Category Archives: Autobiographical

Robbie D. is at it AGAIN

A) Please don’t call me Robbie D. I immediately regret writing that. If it wasn’t a universal truth that things on the internet can neither be erased or untrue, I would undo the grievous mistake I’ve made by offering this nickname to you. Alas.

B) Guardian of the Forest, that lovely book I made with lovely people, has been selling well and has been pretty well reviewed, and honestly it makes my heart swell with pride. A big, big, BIG thanks to everyone who has read it, and for those who haven’t, it’s not too late friend of mine…

C) Let’s get to the REAL news for today: I’ve whipped up a blog to archive the Rob-Box posts I (and my prestigious guests) make on the Southern California Comics homepage (socalcomics.com)! Tres wonderful, yes? Go check it out, NOW NOW NOW:

https://socalrobbox.wordpress.com/
https://socalrobbox.wordpress.com/
https://socalrobbox.wordpress.com/
https://socalrobbox.wordpress.com/

And in case you WOULD like to check out my comic…

Guardian of the Forest

Guardian of the Forest
 

Written by: Robert James Mediavilla
Lettered by: Danny Djeljosevic
Art by: Diana Naneva
Price: $0.99

A one-shot comic by Robert James Mediavilla, Diana Naneva and Danny Djeljosevic exploring the frightful vengeance of Nature.

“What is a guardian of the forest without a forest?”

This question has plagued family man Ben Taylor’s life since he unwittingly unleashed a supernatural force upon his small town. Now, as the body count rises and the creature draws closer, he and his daughter will come face to face with the brutal answer.

Buy now on comiXology!

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Multiple Projects

Amazingly, my project with Diana Naneva is not the only literary blessing in my life. After several months of working at the welcoming and endearing comic shop Southern California Comics, the owner and my boss, Jamie Newbold, made an offer to me. Knowing that I frequently film youtube videos both in my spare time and specifically for the shop regarding my irrational passion for comics, he inquired as to if I’d be interested in voicing my opinions through another venue– namely, the store website.

And thus, the ROB-BOX was born!

Processed with VSCOcam with a6 preset
Processed with VSCOcam with a6 preset. Carrie turned me on to it. She’s quite the lady.

It’s a bi-weekly opinion piece generally about whatever I fancy. Admittedly, that’s a lot of power to bestow upon one such as myself, but I think I’m doing the store proud so far.

Check out the store website: socalcomics.com periodically to see if I’ve updated it (it’s on the lefthand side in the toolbar), although I think I may bundle both of my posts from the website together on here at the end of each week as well to catalogue them. Here’s a sample of my most recent post:


…I thoroughly enjoyed the shifted status quo for these familiar franchises, and ABSOLUTELY think you should check ’em out! So do it, and let’s be done with these blasted reviews, because there’s some exciting Marvel news I would like to (and will) highlight. As Secret Wars progresses, Marvel is gradually revealing what the Marvel Universe will look post-Secret Wars. They’ve announced that their “All-New All-Different” universe will see certain Secret Wars series continue, such as “A-Force” and “Old Man Logan,” but will also see the introduction of new, unexpected, and quite “frankly awesome” titles (this is a pun. Continue reading for reference)…


So go over there and check it out!

The Future is Now

Well…

it’s been quite a while since I updated this site, and quite a bit has happened in that. My short story was rejected for being “too predictable,” despite “some wonderful writing.” A mixture of disappointment and abject sadness struck me, but ultimately I felt relieved. Throughout the months after submitting my short story I had suffered anxiety attacks and frequently despaired over (as dramatic as it may be) my own mortality and the likelihood that I would leave a lasting legacy on the Earth. When I received that email, which was much kinder with its rejection than I had ancticipated, I found solace in knowing that reality was no worse than my worst, most anxious expectations, and reveled in the fact that I had been awarded a compliment at all. But after another week or so, I came to a new, more liberating realization, one that I had thought of as nothing more than a common platitude before– contrary to being dissuaded by rejection, I was fired up by it. I felt twice as motivated to find an outlet for my passion. And thanks to that rejection, I made some revisions to the story and set upon a path that I had always dreamed of but had not seriously pursued…

Thanks to some motivation from a friend (Danny Djeljosevic, co-founder of Loser City and an amazingly talented writer) I contacted Diana Naneva, a truly phenomenal artist who Danny had worked with previously, and together we’re creating something new, something cool, and something I’m immensely proud of.

I’ll be revealing more information about the project soon, so please look forward to that!

The Fruits Of My Labor

It’s Monday of the first week of March. Today is my anniversary. A woman beyond loveliness and wonder–who subsequently is emitting adorable yelps of frustration as she combs through her magnificent, albeit apparently temperamental, mane of hair–is accompanying me on an odyssey to a glorious cornucopia of all-that-thoust-shall-consume meat.

And the first video of our nonstop week of creativity and fun begins! Hopefully someone enjoys it. I suffered greatly for the craft.

[[Is This O.k.? : Steak Sauce Brownies]]


Warmth

Sagittarius ichor flows like sap,
through my mortal coil.
Brewed from the savage tears of frost giants,
by just Gabriel.

A myriad celestial patrons,
toiled together in
imperceptibly divine harmony,
So boy can bleed.


I don’t know if I’m crazy about that last line. I’d love to know what y’all think.

[The Guy Pt. 1] The Dreamers and Me

Moreso blogging than writing today… Just fyi, folks.


I have very odd dreams. Extraordinarily odd, in fact. Dreams so vivid that waking feels more like a binding than a beginning. Someone else wakes up my mortal coil (which I do not appreciate) and infects me with his or her affections, his or her dreams, his or her reality. I become a man between worlds, sure of his existence but unsure of his nature.

But inevitably, be it twenty minutes later, or an hour later, I am me again, with only a faint and fuzzy recollection of a place that seemed more natural and sensible than my own home. It’s pretty damned wild, if I do say so myself. I pride myself on my dreams. Save for my nightmares.The shadowy corners in the subspace of my consciousness are cesspools of horrors and demons– man oh man, that sentence was deliciously dramatic. My mother says I have a penchant, a predilection if you will, toward dramatic writing and I am somewhat inclined to agree with her. But I think that’s a conversation for another day.

As I was saying– dreams. The frequency and intensity of my dreams have influenced my outlook on life greatly. I ought to have “pinch me, I must be dreaming” tattooed on my forehead. One of my biggest fears is that (no laughing) my life is all an illusion, a very, very long dream  I maintain because whatever reality I originally occupy is so lousy I can’t handle it. Therefore a lot of my work revolves around this idea– the power of dreams, what constitutes consciousness and reality, and the possible implications of “the observer effect,” both on the observer and what is being observed.

I don’t think I’ve written a single short story or comic script that didn’t in some way expand on my struggle to cope with those concepts. I think I’ll always be preoccupied with dreaming– even now, as I find my current good fortune in life too surreal to believe it’s true, although that might be influenced by the pessimistic, self-depreciating aspect of my mentality more than anything else.


Either way, that’s an insight into my brain. I’ll probably do this periodically as a tangent series to my regular work for… insight, and junk. That sounds about right.

Rest In Pieces/Arctic Emotion

Alright, so I hadn’t actually planned on posting this, but it’s Valentine Day and what better way is there for you to show love for yourself than by making fun of yourself? These are two songs (I know, more bloody songs from someone who fancies himself a fiction writer) I wrote in high school. They’re… interesting, if for no other reason than serving as insight into the mentality of high school me. I think only a handful of people have ever see these, so I hope y’all enjoy.


Rest In Pieces

So just break down this shell of a man,
my spirit won’t linger on much longer.
If your hands won’t then your hatred can.
Trust me the latter is much stronger.

So pull me limb from limb,
and scatter every bone,
bury me deep,
just let me and my casket alone,
and far away from you.

If there’s not an ocean between us, then I’ll never rest in piece.
(You better stay away from me, you better stay away from…)
I’m so damned tired of this battle arena you planned for our eternity
(So unsure of of what you wanted, so unsure of what you wanted for me)
You tightened your grip much to far and now I’m just out of reach.

So how does it feel to know I’m not around?
That I’m 1000 feet underground?
Where my life is my own, and you have no place.
And all you have left are my bloodstains,
On your face.

So pull me limb from limb,
and scatter every bone,
bury me deep,
just let me and my casket alone,
and far away from you.

If there’s not an ocean between us, then I’ll never rest in piece.
(You better stay away from me, I know you’ll stay away from…)
I’m so damned tired of this battle arena you planned for our eternity
(So unsure of of what you wanted, but now I know just what I want for me)
You tightened your grip much to far, and accidentally set me free.


My Arctic Emotion (Seriously this title)

Winter was cold this year.
(A frigid gust, a current that I just wasn’t ready for)
I think I’m glad I spent it here.
(At least I was, because, )

But now I think to myself,
what if I’d spent it somewhere else?
The answer’s buried inside,
I couldn’t tell you if I tried.

Frosty love turns and blows in in the evening.
Saving’s over, but for me it’s just beginning.
The cold air’s gotten colder, and in here I think it’s freezing.
My heart is hungover as she wishes she was leaving.

Oh how I wish she wasn’t leaving.

Cause under the snow I’ve been bombarded since this winter has begun.
And those soft lips that have been hardened left my favorite song unsung.
No longer well-kept or well-guarded, silhouettes of devotion.
This winter finished what it started, so says my arctic emotion.

My arctic emotion
(Frosty love turns and blows in in the evening.)
My arctic emotion.
(Saving’s over, but for me it’s just beginning.)
My arctic emotion.
(The cold air’s gotten colder, and in here I think it’s freezing.)
My arctic emotion.
(My heart is hungover as she wishes she was leaving.)

You should have finished what you started,
so says my arctic emotion.


Yah… so… there’s that. Angsty Rob (back when people called me Bobby. *shudder*) Reading them over, I suppose there are some elements that could be salvaged– I was and still am particularly found of that and those soft lips that had been hardened left my favorite song unsung line. Who knows? Sometimes it’s important to look back at what we’ve done.

But here’s looking to the future.