Princess Annabelle was her name: much like Sleeping Beauty, she was cursed from birth by a jealous fairy, who prophesied that by her eighteenth year she would have “a heart as big as all outdoors… and a belly to match.” For fear that their daughter would crush their whole country, the king and queen had her shut up in a tower so that she would never see the outdoors… but at least she had an internet connection and could share her wonderful secret with anyone who wanted to be friends!
That was the ‘storyline’ of Pregnant Princess. The initial conceit was to run the whole site ‘in character’, with Princess Annabelle treating every piece of artwork as if it were a photo she were hosting of one of her friends from the outside world, every story a selection from her personal library, every picture of Annabelle a self-portrait. What fun, I thought! What a unique way to run a site, and avoid the drama and strife that seems to follow all the other ones I read daily! Couldn’t go wrong, could it!
We might well be celebrating the eleventh anniversary of Pregnant Princess, if it weren’t for a regular at Cheviot’s Place who later had a website of his own. He calls himself Pumpkinbelly; apparently entirely too many people interpreted that to mean that he was a pregnant woman himself, often jumping to the conclusion that Pumpkinbelly must be a slutty pregnant woman who loved having random people’s babies, and all you had to do was ask… or worse, you didn’t have to ask.
If a suggestive name alone garnered that much negative attention, then I shuddered to think what element I’d be attracting by actually identifying myself as Annabelle and talking about counting baby kicks all day. Pregnant Princess was put down, its small number of illustrations shelved, and I spent a few months preparing for “the site” as it was now namelessly referred to.
In the middle of my disappointment, a new site appeared to assuage my sadness– PGN Network, helmed by my equally talented and equally industrious comrade-in-arms, TPD (The Pregnant Drawer). PGN was a great site, but came with a few layout problems; it had more site redesigns and name changes in ten months than PG-13 had in ten years. There might never have been a PG-13 if I had been satisfied with PGN, but I was a whiny little kid who wanted to have things his own way, and was determined not to let this stand in my way.
PGN made one major contribution to what PG-13 would eventually become: the single-page comic story “Pregamon”, which touched not at all on what its title suggests, was influential by example. Years later I asked TPD what he had in mind if the comic had continued, and he said he didn’t remember. What I’d had in mind, though, was what eventually became Ninpuchan, the site’s continuing story series.
Watching curiously as all of this took place was The Girl. She didn’t have an Internet handle at the time, and wouldn’t have one for several months after the site was first debuted. Yet that seemed unfair, because we were each other’s world. Despite frequent arguments that always boiled down to “I couldn’t find you,” we were one of the most affectionate couples that many people in our social circle had ever seen. Wherever we went, riding in in the same car, sleeping in the same bed, we would spend hour after happy hour weaving new creations together: ideas for comics, for novels, for movie scripts and cartoon storyboards, introducing each other to our dearest inspirations and taking them in new and different directions. Though we had no children, it felt like we had millions, each with recognizable parts of both of us visible in their faces. We did everything together– why stop now?
She asked for a picture of herself in a kimono. I drew it, and then drew another one pregnant just for myself; she liked the pregnant one better. That was often the case; the very first time I drew a pregnant version of her, she said she hoped she would be as beautiful and content when she was pregnant for real. My warmest feelings for her always showed on the paper in those scenes–but this one was special.
“What would my name be in Japanese?” she asked.
“The same,” I said. “Although it could be mispronounced ‘Lovin’ in some accents.” She laughed. “Quite appropriately, too,” I added.
And there she was, our mascot, our character hook. There was no need to pretend to be a girl when there was a real one who was eager to be our mascot, pregnant in real life or not. Excitement was in the air! New pictures flew from my pen, the best pictures of girls I’d ever drawn– I once described my art style as the worst possible cross between Dragon Ball Z and Life In Hell, but these images were light years ahead of what I’d drawn in high school, or my previous site, or anywhere else.
Both of us had left college. I’d just gotten a job at a movie theater, wanting some life experience– that date was fast arriving, but I was too jazzed about this new path my art was taking to slow down. I found a free internet service provider that didn’t care if I uploaded non-G-rated material, and after a brief amount of waffling whether to call it “PG-13″ or “PG-Thirteen”, thundercats were go.
Content was prepped. Ties were straightened. Jupiter was aligned with Pluto. On 6-29-00, PG-13 was born, with five pictures and the first chapter of Ninpuchan. Links were posted on Cheviot’s Place and the Stuffed message board; I don’t believe we were ever linked on Wren-Spot.
We had a site. Now all we needed was a family.
That was the ‘storyline’ of Pregnant Princess. The initial conceit was to run the whole site ‘in character’, with Princess Annabelle treating every piece of artwork as if it were a photo she were hosting of one of her friends from the outside world, every story a selection from her personal library, every picture of Annabelle a self-portrait. What fun, I thought! What a unique way to run a site, and avoid the drama and strife that seems to follow all the other ones I read daily! Couldn’t go wrong, could it!
We might well be celebrating the eleventh anniversary of Pregnant Princess, if it weren’t for a regular at Cheviot’s Place who later had a website of his own. He calls himself Pumpkinbelly; apparently entirely too many people interpreted that to mean that he was a pregnant woman himself, often jumping to the conclusion that Pumpkinbelly must be a slutty pregnant woman who loved having random people’s babies, and all you had to do was ask… or worse, you didn’t have to ask.
If a suggestive name alone garnered that much negative attention, then I shuddered to think what element I’d be attracting by actually identifying myself as Annabelle and talking about counting baby kicks all day. Pregnant Princess was put down, its small number of illustrations shelved, and I spent a few months preparing for “the site” as it was now namelessly referred to.
In the middle of my disappointment, a new site appeared to assuage my sadness– PGN Network, helmed by my equally talented and equally industrious comrade-in-arms, TBD (The Pregnant Drawer). PGN was a great site, but came with a few layout problems; it had more site redesigns and name changes in ten months than PG-13 had in ten years. There might never have been a PG-13 if I had been satisfied with PGN, but I was a whiny little kid who wanted to have things his own way, and was determined not to let this stand in my way.
PGN made one major contribution to what PG-13 would eventually become: the single-page comic story “Pregamon”, which touched not at all on what its title suggests, was influential by example. Years later I asked TPD what he had in mind if the comic had continued, and he said he didn’t remember. What I’d had in mind, though, was what eventually became Ninpuchan, the site’s continuing story series.
Watching curiously as all of this took place was The Girl. She didn’t have an Internet handle at the time, and wouldn’t have one for several months after the site was first debuted. Yet that seemed unfair, because we were each other’s world. Despite frequent arguments that always boiled down to “I couldn’t find you,” we were one of the most affectionate couples that many people in our social circle had ever seen. Wherever we went, riding in in the same car, sleeping in the same bed, we would spend hour after happy hour weaving new creations together: ideas for comics, for novels, for movie scripts and cartoon storyboards, introducing each other to our dearest inspirations and taking them in new and different directions. Though we had no children, it felt like we had millions, each with recognizable parts of both of us visible in their faces. We did everything together– why stop now?
She asked for a picture of herself in a kimono. I drew it, and then drew another one pregnant just for myself; she liked the pregnant one better. That was often the case; the very first time I drew a pregnant version of her, she said she hoped she would be as beautiful and content when she was pregnant for real. My warmest feelings for her always showed on the paper in those scenes–but this one was special.
“What would my name be in Japanese?” she asked.
“The same,” I said. “Although it could be mispronounced ‘Lovin’ in some accents.” She laughed. “Quite appropriately, too,” I added.
And there she was, our mascot, our character hook. There was no need to pretend to be a girl when there was a real one who was eager to be our mascot, pregnant in real life or not. Excitement was in the air! New pictures flew from my pen, the best pictures of girls I’d ever drawn– I once described my art style as the worst possible cross between Dragon Ball Z and Life In Hell, but these images were light years ahead of what I’d drawn in high school, or my previous site, or anywhere else.
Both of us had left college. I’d just gotten a job at a movie theater, wanting some life experience– that date was fast arriving, but I was too jazzed about this new path my art was taking to slow down. I found a free internet service provider that didn’t care if I uploaded non-G-rated material, and after a brief amount of waffling whether to call it “PG-13″ or “PG-Thirteen”, thundercats were go.
Content was prepped. Ties were straightened. Jupiter was aligned with Pluto. On 6-29-00, PG-13 was born, with five pictures and the first chapter of Ninpuchan. Links were posted on Cheviot’s Place and the Stuffed message board; I don’t believe we were ever linked on Wren-Spot.
We had a site. Now all we needed was a family.