I’ve never thought of myself as an artist. Not a “real” one, anyway. Fiber arts? Psh, those don’t count. Of course not. 2D art? Ha! No, I’m actively bad at that.

But a storyteller? Yeah, that’s me. Prose, poetry, live storytelling, theater, puppets, all the of the above. Anything to get a story across. And that’s where my love of comics is rooted—there’s a lot of story you can tell with pictures, a lot of nuance you can capture when word and image interact. They’ve long been one of my favorite storytelling media to lick off pages and analyze in depth.

Now, if you see yourself as a storyteller, and your brain works anything like mine, you might know what it’s like to get possessed by a narrative. It starts out as a drip that you can’t turn off—the best you can do is stick a bucket under it to collect it all. And if it’s a really big or complicated story, it start to overflow your little bucket, starts to make demands about the kind of bucket you use to catch it.

The narrative drip that’s become Helianthia was one of those demanding leaks. It demanded a visual component, demanded I show in images rather than just describe in words. Basically, it demanded to be a comic. I could kick, pout, and protest all I liked, but that drip wasn’t going to stop. In fact, it got bigger.

So I did what anyone used to bowing to narrative demands learns to do—I met them. I buckled down and learned to draw from scratch so I could tell this story. I hope you enjoy it!

Wait, you wanted to know more about me? Uhhhhhh…

I edit for Game Over Books, and work part time as a bookseller. My short fiction has appeared in some places:

And if it’s the fiber arts you’re after, you can find me on instagram as arachnedoesnotknit.