It’s 2017, and though a lot of Mike Mignola’s books wrapped up in 2016, there’s still much more to come this year. This week Mignolaversity is talking to various creators about what’s ahead. Today we’re talking to writer Christopher Golden, “Baltimore” artist Peter Bergting, and “Joe Golem, Occult Detective” artist Patric Reynolds.

Christopher, you’ve set yourself an interesting challenge with “Baltimore” since it’s a story you’ve already ended once before with original prose novel. But you’ve clearly got more to say about the character. What do you think makes Lord Baltimore compelling in the era beyond the end of the original novel?

Christopher Golden: From the very beginning, Mike [Mignola] and I talked about the story of the novel and the story that would come after. We didn’t have specific plans at the time, but we were always aware that this other enormous part of the story existed. The first four volumes of the comics series are all about reducing Baltimore to this doomed creature, this engine of vengeance, to the point where—by the end—he’s essentially forgotten the man he was. Not literally, but emotionally. He physically removed his heart from inside his chest and found that it had turned to tin. Literally. So he knows that he is no longer completely human, that he’s been turned into something both more and less, and that this is against his will. Larger forces—God and the Devil, good and evil, chaos and order—have made him a pawn in their war. He did not choose this. All he wants is to die, to have the burden of his unwanted obligation lifted from him. He wants an ending. At the same time, over the course of volumes five through eight of “Baltimore,” concluding in “The Red Kingdom,” he discovers that perhaps his humanity isn’t as completely gone as he’d believed. He starts to realize that there are people he cares for, that he has dragged into his fight. He can’t save them, though he does advise them to save themselves. But he realizes that even during the times when he believed himself to be alone in the world, he never was, and he certainly isn’t now. None of that will change his fate, but as I see it, that knowledge makes the fight he’s in about something more than just his own death. There’s more at stake than his own peace.

Yes, that’s certainly true. Ever since “The Witch of Harju” the series has been radically changing as you built up a team around Lord Baltimore, and then stripped it away. “The Cult of the Red King” and “Empty Graves” were truly brutal, but I love the way you’ve broken through Lord Baltimore’s stoic persona to a much more fragile character. In breaking him anew, you’ve revealed to Baltimore that he can’t block out his humanity, no matter how far he may think he’s strayed from it.

I love what you’ve done with Childress. He’s become this last link to the man Baltimore had been before the Great War, and he’s been twisted into the worst possible creature. When did you realize that the Red King had to take Childress as his host?

Christopher: I’m terrible with my own life’s chronology, as my wife will be the first to tell you. What I do know is this: I had sat down to outline Volume Six, which would become “The Cult of the Red King.” We’d envisioned the series going a bit longer than eight volumes—maybe just one more, but certainly more—but I had sat down to outline Volume Six and I just understood it. I knew exactly what had to happen in Volume Six (“The Cult of the Red King”) and Volume Seven (“Empty Graves”), and what it meant for the ending. I called Mike, a little concerned, actually, because the Red King coming into the world using Childress as his physical host had NEVER been a part of the conversation about this story. It was a completely new element that would change the structure of the story dramatically, but it just felt exactly right to me—particularly in light of what I’d been trying to do with humanizing Baltimore a bit (though always in the eyes of others, not in his own view). Anyway, I called Mike and explained it all to him, and he was all in from the beginning of the call. In talking to writer friends of mine, I’m always the guy making suggestions, trying to improve and help them make sense of their plots. I can’t help it. My mind spins that way. One of the best things about working with Mike is that he’s one of the best there is at that. When we start discussing a plot idea, it always spins into something much better than it would have been without that brainstorming.

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With the addition of Lord Baltimore’s companions in his crusade against the Red King, you introduced many characters that need their own endings, though I fear what you have in store for them. You know well my favorite characters are Sofia and Harish, and after the series of deaths throughout “The Cult of the Red King” and “Empty Graves” I count myself lucky that they’re still alive. Though given the state of the world now, I begin to wonder if they’ve only momentarily stayed the executioner’s ax.

Christopher: All I’ll say about that is that I love them too. Very much. And I’ll promise you that there ARE characters who survive this thing. Though at least one of them will wish that wasn’t the case.

Judge Rigo abandoned Lord Baltimore’s cause early in “Empty Graves.” I assume we’ll see him return in “The Red Kingdom.”

Christopher: You will.

“Empty Graves” reintroduced Helena Blavatsky from “The Curse Bells” in a surprising turn of events. How long has that been brewing?

Christopher: Again, in writing the outline for “The Cult of the Red King” and writing about this character I called ‘The Blood-Red Witch,’ I was also planning the last two volumes. I knew Blavatsky needed to come back and that she’d have a role to play with the Red King… that was all set up in “The Curse Bells” (Volume Two). In the middle of plotting out “The Cult of the Red King,” I realized that it made perfect sense that the characters ought to be one and the same. There’s a whole hierarchy and folklore about the witches in Baltimore’s world that I’ve only scratched the surface of, but that’s purposeful. There’s a reason.

One of the fun aspects of the “Baltimore” series has been its exploration of an alternate history. Given how much the world has changed over the series, is this an aspect that becomes a bigger challenge as the series progresses? And is that part of the fun of it?

Christopher: It’s always fun and exciting, yes. And it’s a bigger job than you think it is. Which is all I’ll say about that.

Peter, in “Baltimore” you take the story into real-world locations, like the Basilica Cistern in “Empty Graves.” I’d never heard of this place before reading the story, and so I was impressed by how otherworldly the Basilica Cistern sequence was. The thing is, “Baltimore” exists in both worlds, so when a you need a location like this, what’s the process like between you and Christopher? Is there a search for the right location? And how do you take a location and transform it for your needs?

Peter Bergting: Christopher’s scripts are not only fantastic and grounded in the real world, he provides me with links in the actual script to reference materials. If it’s a very specific building or place I try to stay as close as possible to the source material. Other times I will use it as a starting point and then go off on my own and find details and textures. Could be anything, from cobblestone and how they’re laid out to the specific way paint crackles on a wall. Other times you just have to wing it but still make it look real.

Since you started on “Baltimore,” it’s become apparent you draw ghosts and monsters wonderfully. They’re not just scary, but they have the air of grand fantasy about them, which gives the story this imagined wealth of history. There’s a sense that each monster has its own story. Do you talk to Christopher about what kind of monsters you’d like to draw on an arc at all before the scripts are written? Does your design work influence the scripts?

Peter: I’d say no to both of those questions. The scripts come to me finished, I add bits and bobs to the monsters and characters and hope the rest of the team likes what they see. If there’s one thing I try to add it’s that I want even the scariest monster to emote some kind of feelings or sense of personality.

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Christopher: Actually, Peter’s influenced the scripts here and there in ways he may not realize. From the beginning of his tenure, I wanted to write to his strengths. His first “Baltimore” story, “The Witch of Harju,” was plotted with him in mind. I’d read a bunch of his earlier work and wanted to bring him into the world of “Baltimore” in a place that would feel at least a little familiar. On the other hand, he didn’t yet know the hell I would be putting him through before the end, so it was as if I lured him in with a false sense of security. I’ve also written certain bits for certain characters either at his request or because of his particular interests. To be perfectly frank, some of these characters matter more to me than they might otherwise have because of Peter.

Peter, how much do you know about an arc before you start drawing it? Did you know the ultimate fates of each of the characters before you started on “The Red Kingdom”? If so, in what ways does this affect the way you draw the characters?

Peter: A little bit. I bugged Christopher with questions like, ‘I love this character, I hope I get to draw him/her for a long time,’ and the response would always be a vague ‘Don’t get your hopes up.’ But I didn’t read the final script until I got it just last week, and had no idea how it would end. Well, I knew some things…

Christopher: Be honest, Peter. You didn’t want to know the end. And even if you did… no way was I going to tell you. I wanted very much to get your reaction, and I was thrilled when it came.

Christopher, let’s talk about your other comic series, “Joe Golem, Occult Detective”. This series feels like a cousin to “Baltimore,” since it too stems from a prose novel and became a comic. What sort of challenges do you find in transitioning the series from one medium to another, especially since this isn’t really an adaptation, but an extension of the original book?

Christopher: Only the best challenges. The novel Joe Golem and the Drowning City was an enormous pleasure to write for a host of reasons, not least because building the world—envisioning it all—gave me such inspiration. Creating the comics series, both the world and the timeline—running back and forth along it in my brain, not just for Joe but for all of the significant characters—is a wonderful way to spend my creative time.

In our last interview about “Joe Golem” you spoke about how there was a period when the series was waiting for the right artist. I’m paraphrasing here, but Patric Reynolds came along and gave the series a textural realism to contrast with the weirder elements of the series. Back then, only “The Rat Catcher” had come out, but since then we’ve had “The Sunken Dead,” which I felt really shows this contrast especially well. But there’s another element that I feel is really key to his work, and that’s in the way his monsters are not just monsters. He reminds us that there’s some spirit in there. The tragedy isn’t lost in the horror.

Christopher: Absolutely. The key to translating this thing to comics was in finding an artist with the skill and talent to make it a tangible reality. Patric is just brilliant, and part of that brilliance is that he brings that tangible reality just as much to his horrors as he does to his architecture.

“The Sunken Dead” also teased some events from “The Drowning City” novel, something I hadn’t been expecting at this early stage of the comic’s life given that the events of “The Sunken Dead” take place a decade earlier. How do you approach these elements given that your readership is essentially split between those that have read the novel and those that haven’t? How do you find that line between teaser and spoiler (and is spoiler even the right word)?

Christopher: As far as I’m concerned, the comic is for everyone. If you’ve read the novel, you’ll get certain things out of it that comics readers may not get as quickly, but it’ll come. One of the reasons we’re building this world so thoroughly is that when we get to the events of the novel, we want to have depth and texture and character stuff that just would not have fit into the novel. Normally it’s the opposite, that you lose stuff in the translation, but the way we’re approaching this, what will happen in the comics will mean much more. As I always said with Baltimore, we’re going somewhere with this.

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Patric, this was originally a world visually designed by Mike Mignola, but in the comics you are the sole artist. What has been your approach in terms of remaining faithful to the original source, but also taking ownership of the world of the comic?

Patric Reynolds: As I read through the novel, I found that the Drowning City had such a memorable and distinctive personality as a setting. To me, its presence haunted every scene and crept its way through the narrative—it was a like a ghost with a tragic story behind it, always skulking around the corners of the prose. I wanted very much to convey this feeling in the comic, and as I began to construct the world I wanted to treat the city as a character in and of itself. The challenge for me was that it was a world that no one had really seen before, other than in the form of some beautiful illustrations by Mike in the original graphic novel. These offered hints and guideposts—a mass of tentacles engulfing a skyline here, a some crumbling tombstones there—but for the most part I had to rely on building it from outside research. I think I had a lot of creative leeway, but the trick was (and always is for me) to figure out how to combine the reference and turn it into something unique and give it a soul.

The story in the comic actually takes place in the 1960s, but technology in the Drowning City hasn’t really advanced since a massive earthquake in 1925 shook the city and rose the water level by about thirty feet. I had to research the New York of 1925 first, and then imagine what that part of it looked like with three stories of water engulfing it. Then I had to consider the new makeshift city that was built on top of that one. I first turned to researching Venice Italy, since it’s probably the closest real-life example of what the Drowning City may actually look like. But Venice was built and designed to exist above the water, whereas the Drowning City had to be built on top a previous city and adapted to be on the water after a cataclysmic event. I couldn’t simply reappropriate images of that Italian city and scatter buildings of New York throughout it. I had to remind the reader of the 1925 version of New York that was still lurking underwater, so I tried to add rooftops, marquees, and other architecture peeking up from the surface in strategic places.

New York was, and probably is, very much a street culture. But the streets, stoops, and side walks had now become waterways, I thought that flooded city would then be a culture based on fire escapes, boats, and bridges. These structures had to figure very prominently in the visuals, and I felt I should use them as design elements within the panels every chance I got. But I still had to consider the emotional complexion of the city. I researched a lot of abandoned Victorian buildings (mansions, theaters, etc.), haunted places, and shipwrecks because I wanted to see how time moves through spaces, and how the textures of decay transform things. I think there’s a very emotive quality to these settings, as it’s impossible to ignore the sense of loss and resignation.

I don’t think I can say enough about how influential and distinctive Mike’s illustration style is. It’s so heavy, sculptural, and cast in such deep relief, but it’s very fluid at the same time. There is so much visual weight, but it’s balanced and organized with an incredible amount of sensitivity. I wanted to design the Drowning City so that it reflected that same deep sculptural quality, with it’s geometry imposing itself on the characters in the establishing shots with deep shadows and forms. But those shadows have to be generated with a very conscious light source, and I needed to be actively aware of where that light was in every panel. It helps that the story calls back to the film noir detective stories of the 1930s and 1940s where light has a very emotional and conceptual role in the storytelling. In “Joe Golem,” I’m always trying to use that as a design advantage.

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I think you used the emotive quality of the Drowning City to powerful effect, especially in “The Rat Catcher” in the creature’s home. The lost 1925 world beneath the water, takes on such a desolate quality, and it heightened that creature’s sadness. I love when a location can externalize a character’s internal state like that.

Patric: Thank you! I also appreciate it when comics and films use environments to give us a window into a character’s heart. David Fincher’s Seven and all of the best Guillermo del Toro movies (particularly Pan’s Labyrinth) are prime examples of how we can get a view of a character’s emotional and mental state without them actually being present. The Rat Catcher wasn’t able to to tell (or really show) the reader about what kind of pain it was in, so I had to show it on the walls of his art museum home by leaving clues in the shredded paintings, broken statues, and words scratched into the plaster. Ultimately, I had hoped to make the Rat Catcher more than a monster―it’s a creature afflicted by a very human sense of loneliness. I like thinking about the Drowning City as the personification of its main character, Joe (and to a lesser extent, Simon Church). Much like Gotham City is an outward manifestation of the darkness in Batman’s personality, I wanted the Drowning City to be an extension of Joe; tough, battered, born of tragedy, but very much a survivor.

I find Dave Palumbo’s covers an excellent match for your interiors. Do the two of you communicate at all to work out the visuals?

Patric: Why thank you, and I completely agree! I haven’t interacted with Dave very much, if at all actually. I usually don’t see his marvelous covers until they’re already done and approved. I think that it’s a testament to him and his skill that he, on his own, can consistently come up with such striking imagery that both matches and enhances the visuals in every issue.

I think the two of you must just have a very synchronous vision for this world then.

Patric: I definitely think so, which is a tells us a lot about the clarity of Chris and Mike’s narrative. David’s covers always make me want to push myself a little more, and to make the most striking imagery that I can muster.

Christopher, Patric, what’s your process like working together on this series? Is there much back and forth in the early stages on a story idea?

Christopher: I haven’t had a lot of contact with Patric, which is a shame, actually. I hope we can change that going forward. That said, he’s getting regular feedback from Mike and from Scott Allie and so he sure doesn’t need me mucking up the process. Patric’s fantastic, and Mike is Mike, and Scott is always touching base to make sure that everything is coming out the way we all envision it. What an honor and pleasure it is to work with this group, and to have Patric bring this world to life with me.

Patric: It’s been hard for me not to feel starstruck when working with such an accomplished writer like Chris, (and Mike too, of course). I really don’t want to do anything to compromise his terrific writing.

Outside of his encouraging and very supportive comments when I turn in my pages, Chris and I actually don’t interact all that much. I think that the publishing and deadline schedule don’t really allow time for all that much interaction. As soon as I finish an issue, I’m already on the clock for the next one. I get a script (usually while I’m in the middle of working on a previous issue), and I draw the story that Chris and Mike have created. Its very much their story, but they both have been very supportive when it comes time for me to design and interpret the characters and the rest of the imagery in the world of “Joe Golem.” Every once on a while Mike will send along a concept sketch (like he did for the Rat Catcher creature) that he’d like me to follow or ask me to consider adding more stuff on the Drowning City rooftops, but most of my interaction is with editor Scott Allie. He’s the one who makes sure that the storytelling, continuity, and other details in my pages are all clear and consistent with the script. All that being said, it’s meant so much to me that I’ve been asked to be a part of building this world, and be able to contribute to this vast universe of unforgettable stories.

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“Baltimore: The Red Kingdom” #1 begins February 1. As for “Joe Golem, Occult Detective,” you’ll just have to wait and see…