Below is an excerpt from Jonathan Glassman’s new novel A Thousand Full Moons available to purchase by clicking here.
In a small room off the back of a large book store in Manhat- tan, Leigh Buttonwood pulled a piece of paper out of her pocket. Tattered and folded several times over, child-like writing on the paper read “Two Robots” above a whimsical sketch of two humanoid robots sitting on the roof of a small cabin in the woods, looking up at the stars.
There was a sublime electricity in the air that Leigh Buttonwood loved. She had butterflies in her stomach as she nervously glanced at her watch. Sipping her tea, she held up a fresh new copy of Wolf Boy & The Doubleback Giant, Volume II to inspect the vibrant cover art.
Shirley Kleinhofer, Leigh’s agent, slipped in the room, closing the door quickly behind her.
“It’s a bigger crowd than we expected,” Shirley said as she brushed her hair out of her face.
Leigh stood up, “I’m ready.”
This was Leigh’s first book signing. She wasn’t ready to face the crowd, but she would do it nonetheless.
The first Wolf Boy & The Doubleback Giant graphic novel had been selling well while the publishers were pushing volume II to be released world-wide in one week. There were 250 advanced copies waiting for Leigh to autograph. She decided against reading excerpts as it wasn’t her style. She did not like attention. She was doing it to get out of Oregon for a bit and help her forget the last few years. She didn’t want to forget Silas or Daniel, or even the Giant. She just wanted to forget how things ended and leave behind the unanswered questions surrounding what happened to her young son, Silas — the muse for Wolf Boy.
Shirley led her down a narrow hall, past a break room where the smell of coffee was thick, and finally, to the doors that broke out to the main lobby. As Leigh stepped out into the large bookstore, the crowd pushed forward and camera flashes exploded in her face.
The wood paneling and high ceilings reminded Leigh of the old ornate libraries she frequented as a child. Book displays had been moved and red velvet ropes helped to organize the jubilant crowd as they were funneled toward a large mahogany desk in the center.
Shirley shook the store manager’s hand, while a young store clerk extended her hand to suggest Leigh have a seat behind the desk. Stacks of Wolf Boy & The Doubleback Giant, Volume II were spread out on the desk with a mug full of pens. The mug had a picture of a wolf on it, silhouetted by the moon (not an official product of the Wolf Boy line).
Leigh smiled and waved at the crowd. Shirley sidled up for a few photos. The store manager snuck in for a shot or two as well.
When the camera flashes subsided, Leigh noticed dozens of small children lined up, both boys and girls, wearing wolf headdresses and fur capes, emulating the Wolf Boy. Most of the costumes were brummagem, unrealistic replicas, but she was overly humbled and pleased to see a sea of children, and even a few adults so inspired by her son, Silas. But quite suddenly, her nerves were further tested as the crowd pushed forward and people started yelling questions.
“Have you seen Wolf Boy lately?” Yelled a portly man holding his young daughter.
“Is his dad still in jail?” A hawkish woman interrupted.
Shirley moved forward, raised her arms up and shushed the crowd, “Please folks, let’s all take a step back and save your ques- tions for when you reach the front of the line!”
A meek girl of about eight years old led the line and shook with excitement as she held a tattered copy of the original Wolf Boy book. Shaking with anticipation, she stepped forward with her mother and father.
“Hi there, sweetie, thanks for coming and being a fan of Wolf Boy,” Leigh said with sincerity. “What’s your name?”
“I’m Jennifer! I just love Wolf Boy. He’s so cute!” The girl slid her old copy forward on the desk.
“Nice to meet you Jennifer,” Leigh said as she opened the old copy and started to write: “To Jennifer, howl with me!”
Leigh slid it back, “And you get the new book today too, honey.”
As she’d signed, the girl’s mother leaned forward and whispered, “Is the boy living with the crazy grandmother? Because that’s where he seems to fit, no?”
“Live with? Ma’am, Wolf Boy lives under the stars,” Leigh said with a smile.
“Yeah, ok,” the mother said incredulously.
After a dozen or so signatures and brief conversations around delusional interrogations from parents, Leigh saw the face of a small boy poke around the corner of the line, about twenty people back, with the most perfect wolf headdress and face paint. It was so perfect, in fact, that her stomach dropped and she almost yelped out loud, thinking it was Silas. The thought of Silas in New York City was preposterous though.
When Leigh looked up, a boy of about twelve years of age stepped forward with his mother. He also had a tattered copy of the first volume of Wolf Boy and held it open to a particular page. He came around the side of the desk to be beside Leigh. The store clerk whose job it was to keep people organized began to stop the young boy from coming around the desk, but Leigh motioned that it was fine.
“I’m Chad and I can’t tell you how many times I’ve stared at this picture, wanting to run through these forests with Wolf Boy.”
He pointed to the page, where there were three action cells— artwork that was Leigh’s favorite.
The text on the page read: “Wolf Boy left the wizard that day, not sure if they were still allies or not…”
The first cell showed Wolf Boy in action, easily scaling a large tree.
“As he crouched on the back of the battered fuselage of an old aban- doned plane, the giant shifted, and the vines holding the plane up in the air stretched and groaned under the pressure. Wolf Boy adjusted his wolf headdress and pounced forward…”
The next two cells showed Wolf Boy sliding down the forty-five degree angle of the old fuselage, while the eye of a giant peeked from the cockpit. The final cell was Wolf Boy, baring his teeth, face to face with the giant’s puffy face.
As the boy slid the graphic novel across the table for Leigh to sign, it split open to a page near the back. It took Leigh’s focus out of that crowed room for a moment that felt like an eternity. The first cell of the multi-panel sequence beheld the most whimsical drawing, despite being a still image, it was almost as if it had move- ment. Years after she first saw it, Leigh was still baffled by the trickery of the art. The cell was bursting with color, with just the right combination of action and drama — Wolf Boy was hurdling across a boulder, almost jumping off the page. Skimming the out- stretched paw of a ferocious mountain lion, he was spinning a shep- herd’s sling with a glowing rock in its launcher. Not far behind, but slightly over the precipice of the mountain side, was Golnaar the Giant, watching like a semi-protective father. The giant was giving Wolf Boy the space he needed to prove that he could defend himself in the dangerous Whulakian Woods of Oregon.
