Today we’d like to introduce you to Taylor Mosbey.
Please share your story with us. How did you get to where you are today?
How did I come up with “Velour and Tweed”, a Roger Rabbit meets Blade Runner online graphic novel? I’ve always loved telling stories. Perhaps it’s because I grew up hearing the great whoppers my granddad -Daddy Buzz is what we called him – would tell about growing up in Hawesville, Kentucky. I grew up listening to my father tell tales of his time as a private investigator and his career in the military, with my teddy bear Bubba by my side. You could say I was born into storytelling.
I liked reading them, and loved watching them. The weirder and more fantastic the better, but they had to have heart and character. I was easily sucked in, almost literally, when a T.V was on, so much so that my mother would have to squeeze between the T.V and my eyeballs in order to break my tractor beam focus on the screen. “Go outside and play,” she’d say. It was just as well; I certainly didn’t hate being outside. There were still more stories out there.
When I was in elementary school I got involved in plays and performances at my church, and I found out I loved being part of that. Not just the acting, which I wasn’t too shabby at, but also the production. Hours and hours and hours were spent, late into the night preparing. There was a lot to do in a church with an average attendance of 3000. I loved every second of it.
In school I got involved in acting which was fun, but it was small potatoes compared to community theatre. I had landed a role as the Fire Truck in Fairburn’s Southside Theatre Guild’s The Velveteen Rabbit. It was the close of 1994 and I had fully realized I wanted to be an actor.
A few months later I was diagnosed with Leukemia. Thirteen years old and given a 40% chance of survival. Thirteen and I had cancer, isn’t that something only old people get? It was rough. Radiation, spinal taps, pills, bone marrow tests, and chemo, chemo, chemotherapy. For two and a half years. It was not as fun as it sounds. But still, it was kind of amazing. Scottish Rite was a fantastic place to be as a sick kid. I was learning about people. Things like adults are just kids that have a little more info and a lot more responsibility. That people are afraid of living as much as they are of dying. That not everyone that makes you feel bad is your enemy, and not everyone who tries to make you feel good is your friend. Plus, there were more movies to watch, more video games to play, more books to read. More stories. Bubba was still keeping guard. Plus, with all my time indoors, I started teaching myself graphic design. It was a fun hobby.
I was done with chemo by the end of my freshman year, so I was able to enjoy the tragedy of high school like the rest of my classmates. The same, but different.
After high school I aimlessly enrolled in college in Georgia, but moved to California after a few semesters so I could aimlessly enroll in a college there. California! That’s where Hollywood is! I could pick up my acting career. Sure, I was living in Monterey, 9 hours away from L.A. but that was closer than five days! I could swing down there any time for a role.
But that never really happened. I ended up getting married and moving back to the Atlanta area in 2006. That was it. The end of me telling stories in the movies. Aside from seeing indie movies in downtown Monterey, finishing writing a sub-par novella, a short play called, “The Dinner Guest”, and writing a kid’s story about a Penguin named Elkbar. I didn’t do much more in the storytelling sense.
However, two things happened a few years after the move. I found an illustrator for Elkbar in the artist Chris Fason, we met online on a forum for an obscure band we both follow, and the film industry started to pick-up in Atlanta which was encouraging, but I still couldn’t find steady work as an actor. What I did find was a good friend, an ambitious actor named Dominick Racano. From that friendship we turned my short play, “The Dinner Guest” into a short film, and we started the goofy Atlanta popular parody web-series “Two Naked Men Making a Sandwich”.
It was all fun; I was telling stories. But not paying the bills, and we had a child on the way. I was scrambling to find any job, any work, anything to make money, and I miraculously – I do not use that term lightly – managed to get, and keep, a gig in Georgia working as Billy Crystal’s stand-in in the movie “Parental Guidance”. I worked my ass off on that film, so when it was over and I was asking anyone if they knew of a job, we’d just had our first kid by now so I was still scrambling, someone came through. It was in Extras Casting with the savvy Tammy Smith. It was another step away from acting, but I was still in the biz. I was still telling stories.
With her help and blessing I made the jump into the Art Department, starting as a P.A. and working my way towards graphic designer. That hobby I kept from all those years ago was paying off, and in a year, I was working steadily, all the while dreaming of one day “getting my own story made.” Always thinking. Always creating. Always working.
I had met the very talented and Emmy Nominated Production Designer Timothy David O’Brien when I was still an art P.A. and he was still an Art Director, but we’d kept in contact. He knew that my creativity and drive didn’t start and end in front of the computer screen making graphics, so when he asked if I was interested in being his art director for this “little tiny show called ‘Atlanta’. It’s got Donald Glover; do you know him?” I jumped for it. I have been fortunate enough to work on both seasons, even earning an Emmy nomination for the second, and God willing I will work on the third and fourth. On this show I saw the value of confidence, and the risk and reward of originality. And I got to be a part of some great story telling.
That more or less leads us to Velour and Tweed. Through all this I had in the back of my mind a story about a toy bear (think Teddy Ruxpin) and worn Private Eye. Classic noir kind of stuff only the bear was the grizzled mean one and the Private Eye was the nice one. Then the movie, “Ted” came out and I knew that idea was shot. But I couldn’t help it, I really liked this story. It was weird and fantastic.
I was going to do this. But I needed a character other than a toy bear. I thought back to when I was a lowly Fire Truck, and about the toy that came to life. The Velveteen Rabbit! And the name, this was great, “Velveteen and Burlap”! No. No, that wasn’t right. It was too on the nose, and I wanted the P.I. to sound smoother. So, I did the sensible thing and searched the internet for fabric types. Fifteen minutes later I had found “Velour and Tweed.”
April 2019, I began writing. And outlining. And writing. I reached out to Chris Fason, and told him I had a job. A big one, and that I could pay him. Paying people for their good work is a joy not enough of us get to have. He was in. I was grateful, and writing.
I outlined ten issues, and came up with a story set in a technologically advanced alternative past. Amidst a backdrop of crime solving, snooping, and sleuthing a frustrated toy rabbit tries to discover who he is, and an worn out optimistic investigator tries to hold on to what is dear. Hijinks ensue.
I sent Fason the first script; he jammed out the cover and 22 pages in a whirlwind and August 5, 2019 the first page of the first issue, “This Thing Really Sucks,” was published.
Nearly every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday since then a new page has been published. Issue 7, “An Affair to Forget,” started this past June 29th.
We have a few months ahead before we round out this story, and I would love to see it play out as a series, animated or live-action, but I won’t complain if that can’t happen. I’ve got other projects that I can work on, other chores to be done, and other stories to tell.
Has it been a smooth road?
The road to Velour and Tweed has had its obstacles and challenges. But working on Velour and Tweed itself hasn’t been a disaster, but it hasn’t been smooth. There are so many worthy things that can distract me from writing, my kids, my wife, a paying job, but those are kind of the norm. Writers’ block is common. How am I going to get these thoughts on paper?
Of course, there’s the roller coaster ride of confidence and doubt. Weeeee! Everyone is going to love this, I’m doing great! Ahhhh! I’m going to die! This is terrible, why would I make this garbage. I joke, but anyone who’s put themselves and their work out there knows that it can be a special kind of hell.
For the first few months it was very depressing to not get the viewership we were expecting. We knew it was going to be low, but we couldn’t get anyone. That was a blow. But it started picking up this April, and that’s been an encouragement.
Velour and Tweed – what should we know? What do you guys do best? What sets you apart from the competition?
Velour and Tweed is published under “Mud Pie Comics,” Right now “Velour and Tweed” is the main focus, but we do hope to support artists by publishing their graphic novels and stories while giving them the most creative control.
Let’s touch on your thoughts about our city – what do you like the most and least?
Best? The Food. When people come to visit and ask what there is to do, I just start naming places to eat. There’s so much love in the food.
Worst? The traffic. Especially since we are OTP. Traffic and parking is always a nightmare.
Contact Info:
- Website: VelourandTweed.com
- Email: info@velourandtweed
- Instagram: instagram.com/velourandtweed
- Facebook: facebook.com/velourandtweed
- Twitter: twitter.com/velourandtweed
Image Credit:
Chris Fason, Taylor Mosbey
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