Christopher: Browse The Strips

Friday, February 13, 2015

Lynn's Comments: I had assisted Rod when he was in dental school. There was a free clinic in the evenings, and students got extra experience if they volunteered to work on patients after class for free. Spouses often accompanied the students--just so they could spend some time together. University took a toll on relationships. With this bit of training under my belt, I believed I could fill in for a while in our new clinic.

Wednesday, May 6, 2015

Lynn's Comments: Raising kids is a career. It's the most important one there is. It's unpaid and often unappreciated, but it sets the rules and the temperament for the next generation. Whenever I heard a woman say, "I'm just a homemaker" or "just a housewife," I grit my teeth. Like all women who must take time to earn a living, I relied on good daycare to help me raise my children, but I was a hands--on parent. I earned the "mom" in "working mom."

Friday, July 3, 2015

Lynn's Comments: When Annie had her baby, I wanted to acknowledge those who are born with a difference. I knew this might be a controversial topic and I didn't want to focus on something which was not an integral part of the strip, so I chose a condition known as "polydactyly," meaning "many fingers." It's not uncommon and can be corrected, often very easily, with surgery.

Saturday, July 4, 2015

Lynn's Comments: When this story appeared, I received calls from editors wanting to know what the reader response was to this storyline. Many parents did contact me with stories about their babies' varying conditions at birth, and the one thing they all told me was how accepting their other children were of a new baby brother or sister who was just a little different.

Monday, July 13, 2015

Lynn's Comments: This was a situation which came from my own childhood: My brother had twisted his knee in a soccer game and was being bullied by some bigger kids in the neighbourhood. He was limping and they accused him of faking the limp (even then we were both theatrical and always pretending to be something or someone else, so the accusation wasn't entirely without cause). I jumped between the bullies and him and threatened to beat them up if they touched my brother. At the time, this thought went through my head, "Nobody knocks my brother around but ME!"

Tuesday, July 14, 2015

Lynn's Comments: This story was based on a true story, which might have ended in tragedy.

My husband, who had been flying a float plane just long enough to feel confident, offered to pick up some friends after a canoe trip down the Kazan River in the Northwest Territories.

Tuesday, August 25, 2015

Lynn's Comments: This strip inspired a number of readers to write in. Some were pleased to see the subject of birth anomalies discussed in the comics, and others were outraged by the suggestion that angels might work on assembly lines. It's hard to explain to those who take story-telling so literally that I was not trying to subvert their beliefs. Kids say things like this. The fact that they have faith in something greater and more wonderful than themselves, is part of the magic of childhood! Ah, but now I'm offending those who will object to seeing the words faith and magic in the same sentence. You can't please 'em all.

Sunday, November 8, 2015

Lynn's Comments: I had such an island. I don't know if it was the story of Peter Pan or a project my mom gave us to do, but I had an imaginary island, and it was real.

One rainy North Vancouver day, my mom mixed up a paste using flour and water (and some other things), cut out flat cardboard bases, and helped my brother and me form an island in the middle of each one. We had to make mountains and bays, and when the paste was dry and hard, we coloured our islands with poster paint.

I took this project seriously. The ocean around my island was the deepest blue-green. There was a sandy beach in a rocky horseshoe-shaped bay. There was a forested mountain, and a jungle where I could pick tropical fruit. As I painted my island, I thought about how I got there and what I had to work with. A shipwreck was part of my story, of course, and I built an imaginary shack out of the remnants of a washed-up hull. I had a garden and I made a path to the mountaintop where I could watch for ships. Sometimes, a sailor or a passenger would be washed up on my shore and I would have imaginary adventures with this visitor. The visitors never stayed for long. It was, after all, my private imaginary space.

I daydreamed about this island all the time. When I was being bullied, I went to my island. When I was in trouble (sometimes for being a bully!), I went to my island. If I had a crush on a boy, he might be washed up on the island. Sometimes if a teacher was particularly nice, she might appear there, too. This fantasy went on until I was in high school! Even when I was well beyond childhood, I'd still find myself thinking, "You are allowed on my island." Or, "You are NOT allowed on my island!" It was a refuge. I was safe there. I had supreme control. There were no rainy days. It was a place of peace, and I think it helped me to survive some difficult times.

The island disappeared after many years--but I can still bring it into focus if I try

Tuesday, December 15, 2015

Lynn's Comments: When the first Cabbage Patch dolls came out, I was caught up in the frenzy like everyone else. I managed to score one for my daughter just before Christmas, but then my sister-in-law called to say there were no dolls available in Winnipeg until after Christmas, and could I find just two more. Word came that a shipment of dolls was to arrive at a local store in North Bay, and it would be first come first serve. I ran to the store and stood in line hoping to get a doll that wasn't too ugly. They were ALL ugly! I bought two blonde C-dolls, and mailed them off to Manitoba just in time for the great glut of Christmas. Apparently, I had saved the day. Looking back, it's hard to believe that such a strange looking doll could have made such an impact, and that I waited crazily in line for two of them! This series of strips was my "revenge."

Sunday, January 31, 2016

Lynn's Comments: Wordless strips were always fun. Making a story evident just by drawing a sequence of images kept me challenged and aware. The cartoonists who do this consistently have my admiration and applause.

Wednesday, February 3, 2016

Lynn's Comments: Chris is the son of Elly's neighbour, Annie. He was named for the son of a friend of mine and I thought he would play a larger role in the strip. It still amazes me how some characters would come to life and "talk to me," and some wouldn't--even though I wanted to get to know them!

Thursday, February 4, 2016

Lynn's Comments: When you are used to living in a winter climate, an image like this will tell you the temperature has warmed up and the snow has become "sticky." It will also bring back memories of working long and hard to get to a hill for the sheer pleasure of taking a 10 second ride.

Sunday, March 6, 2016

Lynn's Comments: Here's an example of how the first two panels of a Sunday page are set up to be eliminated if the features editor at the paper wants to save space. The situation here, Chris walking the baby, has nothing to do with "It's snowing again." which is the next opening line. Often this "throw-away" gag is better than the rest of the strip! Cartoonists handle the dilemma of the removable opening panels in different ways. Johnny Hart, for example, always started the B.C. Sunday page with the ants--sometimes an entirely different subject matter from the rest of the strip. Some extend the beginning of the storyline, some play with the title or draw doodles, and some don't bother with these panels at all. Ultimately, we all have to work with the newspaper editors, understand their space limitations, and help them to place our work as best they can in an ever-changing hard copy format.

Friday, June 10, 2016

Lynn's Comments: This was another of my son's off-hand remarks. If he knew how many of his comments became punch lines for the strip, I think he'd have asked for a byline!

Friday May 19, 2017

Lynn's Comments: More real playground memories…I remember the sound and feel of the swings, I remember the pinch of the u-shaped seats, the thump of a loose pole, the sense that I could fly over the top if I pumped hard enough. No wonder you see so many grandparents pushing youngsters on park swings; it’s a way for us to go back in time!

Sunday July 23, 2017

Lynn's Comments: Puns were a favourite punch line. They were untranslatable, however, which made it difficult for my syndicate to sell my work to non-English-speaking countries. I knew that word play limited my sales, but if I could come up with a good pun, I figured it was worth the loss.

Sunday January 21, 2018

Lynn's Comments: One year, the snow in Lynn Lake, Manitoba was perfect for snow forts. The temperature was above -15C, a rare phenomenon in this northern town. My husband took a shovel and followed Aaron, who must have been about 6, out to where there was a snow bank piled up by the grader. He dug and dug, and was so excited about his snow fort that Aaron got cold watching him and came home. He continued to dig until he realized he was alone. Then he continued to dig. The fort had become his! It must have been funny to see a grown man out there happy as a clam, full of fantasy, just being a kid in the snow.

Wednesday February 21, 2018

Lynn's Comments: This is a story from my past. I babysat our neighbour’s four girls. They were a real challenge. I was seriously outnumbered and had to improvise my way through the hours they were in my care. I truly earned the few bucks I was paid.