Warren Ellis
The late twentieth and early twenty-first centuries saw the comics medium draw in writers who worked simultaneously across prose fiction, journalism, and screen-based forms. Warren Ellis, born on 16 February 1968 in Essex, United Kingdom, is a writer who has worked across a range of those overlapping roles, producing work in English as a comics writer, comics artist, novelist, screenwriter, journalist, short story writer, science fiction writer, film producer, and blogger.
Among Ellis's notable works in the comics medium are Planetary, The Authority, and Ignition City. These titles represent a portion of a body of work that spans multiple forms and publishing contexts, reflecting the breadth of his activity as both a writer and an artist within the comics field. His roles as a novelist and short story writer extended his practice into prose fiction, while his work as a screenwriter and film producer placed him within screen-based production as well.
Ellis also maintained a presence as a journalist and blogger, occupying roles that brought his writing into contact with periodical and online readerships. His activity as a science fiction writer runs through several of these professional identities, and his work in English has been catalogued under the Library of Congress authorized label "Ellis, Warren," a designation that reflects the formal institutional recognition of his output across these varied forms.
Ellis received the Grand Prix de l'Imaginaire for Best Comics, an award that stands as a documented instance of critical recognition for his work in the comics medium. His notable works Planetary, The Authority, and Ignition City are among the titles associated with his name in the public record, and it is in connection with work of this kind that the award was given.
Quotes by Warren Ellis
Warren Ellis's insights on:
The absolute best thing anyone can do is grab desperately at the throttle. But they don’t. Because it’s a speeding death kaleidoscope made out of tits.” Adam.
Benighted infants,” Strauss laughed, gesturing at Goldmark to get the coffees. “I’d be amazed if anything in here grew on or near an animal. It’s all that printed meat, diddled with by needles.
There are no good futures. There’s nothing to head towards but more garish, unsustainable carnival acts.
If contemporary literary fiction doesn’t read a bit like science fiction then it’s probably not all that contemporary, is it.
He was in blue jeans and a work shirt, which is another weird quirk of Rich Old Men. Just one of the guys here. Blue jeans and a work shirt, salt of the earth, working man like yourself. Like they’re somehow uncomfortable about being rich enough to sleep in a bed made of vaginas being pulled around the town at night by a fleet of gold-covered midgets.
The quiet felt like a huge new country that he could wander around within for years without ever meeting its coastlines. A silence the size of the sky.