"A true friend stabs you in the front."
-Wilde
I talk more about reviews and their value. Oh yeah, and the ever-lovin' SANDMAN effect.
-Wilde
I talk more about reviews and their value. Oh yeah, and the ever-lovin' SANDMAN effect.
But apparently, I don't. New Full Bleed is up.
And I'll add that the site that hosts this new incarnation of Full Bleed, one Comics Waiting Room, has been revamped and remade into a twice-monthly magazine. I may feel compelled to post something interesting in the off-weeks, but more likely, I'll take it as a chance to skip out writing and watch more David Cronenberg flicks. You know me.
Full Bleed is up, on the subject of comics journalism. Read if you dare.
The moment that you've all been waiting for, I'm sure. The Full Bleed archives are now back, hosted on this here blog. I'm only going to post this page once (though I'll keep a link to it on my sidebar) so that you can spin all those golden oldies one more time and laugh at how little my tastes have changed in the intervening time.
Now if only I could find a way to convince Graeme to do the same thing...
San Diego Con report, 2003
Fill in on Grim Tidings
Full Bleed Intro
Ed Brubaker Interview
League of Exraordinary Gentlemen (Absolute edition) review
Clear Cut - Marvel's Dilemma
Interview with Epic's Teresa Focarile
The Transmigration of Flex Mentallo
Spirit of '86
Joe Quesada interview dissection
Why I Love Marvel Comics
Dollar Discoveries - Night Force
Goon Love
All Killer, No Filler
Ssh. Strangeways announced
That ain't no Catwoman I know
Marvel Cover Follies
Interview with retailer Robert Scott of Comickaze
Ultimate Marvel - the post-Jemas-era begins
Home Cooking
Epic aftermath
Why I hate monthlies
A Small Confession
Random reviews
2003 in Review
2004 Resolutions
The problem of words in comics
Jimmy Olsen Adventures review
Surviving NuNu Marvel - Quesada/Buckley interview dissection
Quesada/Buckley interview disssection continues
Continuity: A Mug's Game
New Frontier 1&2 reviewed
Elektra: Assassin reviewed
The Last Marvel Comic I'll Ever Buy (I'm Lying)
Wizard World LA 2004 travelogue
Thwack! Cancellations and you
Walking Dead reviewed
Wondercon 2004 travelogue
The Interman and Age of Bronze reviewed
26 potentially rhetorical questions Some mechanics of writing comics
On the possibility of a Gran Morrison Superman book
Why I have a column and you don't
Why most comics covers suck
Gyo/Uzumaki and vol. 1 of Nausicaa Reviewed
More random reviews
The Good Old Days and why they weren't
San Diego Comic Con Survival Tips
SDCC 2004 travelogue
Oh Seaguy, My Seaguy!
Slouching towards a canon
Captain America: Madbomb reviewed
Coevolution I
Coevolution II
So, should I spring the surprise on you now or make you read to the end to find out?
It’s not that much of a surprise, is it? No, I didn’t think so, either. You’ve already figured it out. You’re smart cookies, and given the overwhelming scent of finality (or rather, penultimateness) from last week’s column, you know that this is my last column for Broken Frontier. Why else would I go to such lengths to expound my views on where the industry stands? I’ve got to use this soapbox while I’ve got it.
For all the good it does. Which, honestly isn’t much. I can hope that I’ve turned folks onto books that they might not ordinarily look at. I certainly know that I’m not rattling anyone’s cages over at the Big Two or any other publisher (“Aw look. It’s so cute. Another columnist criticizing our policies from a safe distance. We never get enough of that.”) It’d be nice to be listened to, but I figure I’m largely preaching to the choir. I’m guessing most people who read this column are already looking for more out of the mainstream and have a higher set of expectations than the run-of-the-mill comics reader.
Coevolution.
Awhile ago on my blog (yes, I have a comics blog, after succumbing to the relentless peer pressure involved) I said something like the following, in response to Brian Michael Bendis saying that, in effect, comics characters belong to the fans:
Unfortunately, this is flatly untrue. The characters, on both Marvel and DC's side, don't belong to the creators or the readers. They belong to the company. Period. End of sentence. You can become attached to them and maybe even believe that you do indeed own them (leading to the formation of the "Save Paste Pot Pete" society and the like), but the harsh reality is that you do not. Even the creators who brought these characters into being don't own them. They are company franchises. That comes with advantages and disadvantages, but it's not going to change anytime soon.
Challenge…accepted
Finally, that is. Weeks ago Joe Rybandt issued “The Madbomb Challenge”, exhorting online reviewers to dig into the freshly-(re)printed Captain America: Madbomb collection. Originally published in 1976, “Madbomb” featured the return of Jack Kirby to the character he helped create. I’m not historian enough to know how this was received back in the day, but the arrival of this volume today is cause for rejoicing.
Not crying sad. Pathetic sad.
So, there I am with my kids in the local Toys BackwardsR Us yesterday, ostensibly to buy a frisbee (don’t ask how the first one broke). I’m ready to leave, when I pass something on an end cap that catches my eye. Comic books. Marvel comic books. A bunch of them.
Hey, what a great idea! People buy toys. They might see comics and take a look, right? Sure, it’s worth a shot. Marketing genius, I say.
As a former (okay, lapsed) English major, I’m always interested in the process of canonization. Not sainthood, though I guess it’s close. I’m talking about canonization in terms of what works get added to the canon of a particular medium. What’s a canon, you ask? Well, typically a canon (as defined in the American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language is the following: “A group of literary works that are generally accepted as representing a field”. So, within the canon of detective fiction, you’ve got writer like Dashiell Hammett, Mickey Spillane and Raymond Chandler (don’t think I’d get any argument on any of those.) In science fiction, there’s writers like Isaac Asimov, Anne McCaffery and William Gibson (though some folks might decree that McCaffery wrote fantasy and isn’t fit for inclusion.)
Oh Seaguy, my Seaguy!
Show of hands. How many people read Seaguy? Seven…eight…nine… Okay, that’s a relatively poor showing. What’s the deal here? Read the first issue and were scared off by it’s deceiving simplicity? Was it the lack of mutant superheroes? It was Chubby, wasn’t it? You couldn’t wrap your head around a floating, talking choona, could you? Hell, you may as well be reading funny animal comics, right?
Was it perhaps the fact that it was three-issue miniseries written by Grant Morrison (arguably Vertigo’s most golden of golden boys; no Neil Gaiman doesn’t count, as he only “consults” for them now, but for the odd Sandman thingy) and therefore you knew it was going to be collected in short order for a decent price? I mean, if they’re getting around to putting out such (relatively) lesser works of his like Sebastian O, then for certain they’ll release his first post-New X-Men project in short order to capitalize on his popularity and the thirst of his fans for some more Morrison Love after a six-month absence, right?
Now Don’t Hold Your Breath…
Ah, the rituals of Summer. The driving, the parking, the walking of many blocks of sidewalk before the walking of many blocks inside the convention center. The looking up panels and scanning of name badges. The queues for autographs and swag and the costumes, oh yes, the costumes.
Once again, the Gathering of the Tribes has concluded. And with it begins the inevitable slouching towards autumn. But I get ahead of myself. Quite easy to do when you’re operating on little sleep and too much caffeine and having your brain gently marinated for the last four days by a powerful concoction of sensory overstimulation, low blood sugar and being part of one of the bigger hive minds on the planet. SDCC was fun, let’s have another one…
Surviving San Diego
So, you want to make it through San Diego Comic Con ’04 with your sanity and health intact? Let’s go through some simple ground rules, shall we?
1) Footwear.
Comfortable footwear that provides ample arch support is a must. Those floors look like soft, cushy carpet, but they’re really only 1/8th of an inch of nylon over solid concrete that the Thing couldn’t bust through on his best day. Your dogs will be punished, particularly if you wander the floor more than one day. Make sure you choose fabrics that are easily washable as well, ‘cause some things that get on ‘em, you’re going to want to get off in short order… So, fetish boots win in the washability department, but over the long haul, they’re not going to be the optimal choice. Choose arch support over aesthetics, unless you’re going to have your tuckus planted firmly in a chair for more than an hour at a time (which has its own perils…)
They Don’t Call ‘em the “Good Old Days” for Nothing.
How often have you heard the following: “Gee, if only comics (and by this, I tend to mean ‘mainstream superhero comics’) could be written like they were in the 1960s all over again. Everything would be great.”
Well, not necessarily. Sure, there were lots of great comics from that time, and the Marvel Revolution was a big part of it. But the old days are old for a reason. They’re not coming back anytime soon (except maybe for the odd nostalgia issue).
What I’ve Been Reading, part the current
So, this is the time where I plunge into the box of recently read stuff and talk about some of it. There’s not gonna be much rhyme or reason, so bear with me.
First out of the gate is Hard Time, by Steve Gerber and Brian Hurtt. I’ve commented a bit on this in the past, mostly commenting on the lack of diversity in the color palette which I’ve gotten accustomed to, but still question. Ostensibly, the Focus Line’s reason for being was to portray superpowers in a realistic manner, eschewing the costumes, but keeping the X-Ray vision so to speak.
Your Manga Minute Today
So, uh, manga. I’ve started reading some, and it’s a mixed bag to be sure. Let’s make one thing clear, though. Most manga, based on its trade dress (which gives Greg Horn a run for his money the fetishization department) makes me want to run away screaming at the top of my lungs. But then I’m likely too old to be in most manga’s target market, too. Hell, I’m probably old enough to disqualify myself from most western comics’ target market. And I will note that there’s plenty of western comics that make me want to publicly avow myself as a member of the comics-hating-society, but there’s a lot of good stuff out there, too.
I’m sure that’s the case with manga, too. I just need to do a little more digging. The first manga title I grabbed (inspired by a recent discussion on the subject of horror and what horror fiction is/isn’t) Gyo by Junji Ito. I know, I know. Umazaki is better, but I wasn’t able to find volume 1 at any of my local comics stores or any of the local bookstores I’ve been to recently (and since I’ve been on a big research kick lately, I’ve been to a LOT of bookstores). I peeked into volume 2 a bit and sorta scratched my head and just decided to wait. But back to Gyo.
Spoilers follow. If you care, then you better stop reading.
Yeah, I know. Real original title. ‘Cause it’s a column about comics covers, get it? Hardeeharhar.
I’m prompted to write this after reading James Sime’s (always informative and readable) latest Comics Pimp (over at Comic Book Resources, doncha know?) and after a barrage of covers that John Jakala posted over at his blog, Grotesque Anatomy. Well, that and Micah Wright’s attempt to differentiate Stormwatch: Team Achilles covers with dialog balloons (too little, far too late) of a couple months ago.
What exactly is the purpose of a comicbook cover? Is it merely a platform upon which to stretch one’s self artistically, adding depth and nuance to the story? Is it an opportunity to get some cache from a guest artist who perhaps couldn’t do the entire work, but wanted to make some contribution (or add their name to get folks to even look at the book)? Is a cover just something to splash a little eye candy on?
“How come you get a column and I don’t?”
Ah, yes. The most touchable of touchy subjects. Exactly from what does my purported authority on the field of comics spring? Why is it that I get to spout my opinions every week and expect you lot to listen and pay attention? Why is it that layabouts like me get a soabpox when there’s plenty of deserving and far more thoughtful writers around getting nothing in recognition for their contributions.
Nuts and Bolts
Apparently, I’m psychic. After asking about Doom Patrol and Defenders trades last week, I’m rewarded by news from Wizard World that both of those are now on the slate. Of course, I’d be happier if it were an announcement of all the Steve Gerber Defenders and all of Grant Morrison’s Doom Patrol, but I’ll take what I can get.
Now if only Marvel would get on the stick regarding those Dr. Strange, Thor and Warlock reprints…
In other news and observations, I’d just like it pointed out that despite the surface similarities between film and comics (and comics and novels, though that correlation is downplayed on a regular basis), writing for different media isn’t just like writing for another.
Yup. Movies and comics are both visually oriented. That’s evident at a glance. Particularly now, as comics are seemingly written as proof of concept for movies, downplaying any text other than dialogue (and, like movies, often overworking dialogue into unnatural contortions or misguidedly trying to sound “natural”). I know, I’ve talked about this before and am repeating myself, what am I, senile or something?
Comics, however, suffer from a fairly major structural limitation. No, I’m not even going to go into the setbacks of the serial format; I’m talking about something as simple as the page. Comics, unlike any other media, are broken into small chunks as a matter of course. There’s only so much that you can realistically put on a page and have it work. Consequently, if you’re padding, it’s evident (unless your artist is creative with their panel layouts and placements). Padding sometimes happens. Not a big deal, unless you’re making a career of it.
No, I’m not going to decry the “writing for the trade” phenomena, though I’ll admit that if an author is clearly writing for the trade, then I’ll just wait for the trade.
Comics offer control over the passage of time unlike any other media. Sure, maybe novels can get close to it, if the author can sustain the patience required to work at that level of time. Movies don’t have a choice. They happen as fast as they happen, twenty-four frames a second. Yeah, they can stretch out things with bullet time and the like, but that’s only for short bursts.
With comics, the page unfolds at a speed determined by the reader. Sure, the creators can indicate a certain passage of time, but there’s no clock on the reader going over the scene again and again, absorbing the art and text, before moving on to the next panel much less the next page.
A page that takes place in the space of twenty seconds could be read in ten seconds or a minute or an hour (if you’re looking at one of Geoff Darrow’s pages, that is). That’s a lot of power in the hands of the reader.
So yes, comics are unsurpassed in marking the passage of time, of event and consequence. However, that strength is also a limitation. Comics can’t show action in progress like films can. Comics show collections of snapshots strung together, but they don’t exceed at the fluid display of events. Sure, a gifted artist can hint at it, but it’ll never match the ease of animation or film.
Why am I babbling about all of this? Simple. I ran into it all when I started writing actual comics scripts. I went ahead and wrote them like they were movies. Of course, the first thing that I ran into is that a page is a page is a page. Each page has to stand up on its own as well as flow into the next one. Not only that, but you need to make sure that you accord the proper amount of page space to events so that they have the proper weight. If you don’t, then your pages lose emotional impact.
This isn’t an issue in movie scripts or in novels. You make as much space as you need. Sure, you have to think about chapter structure and scenes as they relate to the plot, but you don’t worry about running out of page space (particularly on a word processor). If the scene needs to be longer, you just keep typing (yeah, it’s not as simple as that, but you get the drift.)
When you’re writing a comic, you not only have to worry about plot and pacing, but you have to construct twenty-two (or more) pieces that work together as well as convey the larger whole seamlessly. If you’re new at writing for comics, then you better hope that your co-creators know how to slice up a page and serve it (and that they’re not afraid to speak up and point out problems).
Comics are also good at things like juxtaposition, putting two seemingly unrelated events side-by-side. Alan Moore is a master at this, not only with images, but with text. Read Watchmen sometime, but don’t read it for the story, read it for the mastery of the form that’s at play there. Read Peter Milligan’s recently-reissued Skreemer for a different flavor, intertwining three related storylines to form a whole that’s much stronger than the sum of its parts.
I know. Most comics are linear these days. Even an author who’s otherwise utterly demented, like Grant Morrison will often use fairly basic plot structures. Linear isn’t bad. It’s a little dull, perhaps, but not bad in and of itself. Most movies and TV shows are linear, too. Comics are in good company in that respect. Or at least plentiful company.
Am I asking for all comics to be un/structured like a film by Jean-Luc Goddard? Nope. But a little variety would be good to come by. Are my comics all crazy and nonlinear and require roadmaps to follow? Nope. Mine are pretty basic right now. Hell, I’m still figuring out how to fit things on a page and trimming my dialogue to manageable levels. I’ll worry about the advanced stuff when I get there.
I know, I was hoping to have Strangeways news for you this week, but things have been slowed down on the art side. The artist in question has been on the disabled list since the early part of the year (guns don’t kill artists; nailguns do) and is just getting back in the game. I’m hoping that I can post some art next week.
Well, I guess I can get you a little sneak peek now. No sequentials, though, just a pin-up.
There should be an image here, but there isn't, sadly. Google for it on Grotesque Anatomy.
Yeesh. That looks soft when you shrink it down. The original looks a lot crisper. Trust me.
Catch you all next week.
Bear with me, folks. My daughter got me up at 4am and I just haven’t been right since. Too bad that this is the day that I have to write my column, isn’t it? Oh well. Can’t win ‘em all.
So this week we’re going to get something a little different. Both sleep-deprived and caffeine-fueled, my mind begins to wander, and I find myself asking questions. Questions, sadly, that I can only ask of a brain-fried internet commentator. But sometimes that just isn’t enough. So I’m going to ask you, my audience.
Some of these are rhetorical, some not so much so. Let’s start, shall we?
Things to Read in Airports
Yeah, I know. Last week was all about my travels to Wondercon I don’t need to rehash it a second time. Don’t worry. Instead, I’m gonna talk about what I read on the way up there. If you checked in last week, you might remember that I mentioned ‘em. Spoilers for both Age of Bronze and The Interman follow. You’ve been warned.
And Awaaaayyy We Go!
Have I mentioned that I’m spoiled by years and years of San Diego Comicon attendance? I am. Every convention I’ve been to aside from that one has seemed small.
This isn’t a bad thing. There’s such a thing as too big. San Diego is verging on that. I say that it isn’t only because there’s so much good stuff there that it makes it all worthwhile.
Wondercon, held in San Francisco, is far from too big. Though oddly, the longest line I’ve ever waited in for a creator signature was there. But more on that later.
Okay, so that was a little harsh. “What are you babbling about?” you ask.
I’m talking about my column of last week, the one in which there was a paragraph that could be read as a rank dismissal of Robert Kirkman and Tony Moore’s series The Walking Dead. A dismissal on the grounds of it being a derivative work lifted wholesale from the previous work of George Romero and his Living Dead films.
Harsh? Yes. Perhaps even overly harsh.
Don’t Panic.
Okay, well maybe we all should panic. Last week was a bad week. Particularly if you’re a Wildstorm fan. Two of their books, Wildcats 3.0 (which, for the record, I didn’t read regularly) and Stormwatch: Team Achilles (which I did read regularly and loved dearly) were cancelled. It sure felt like it was out of the blue, but given the numbers that they sold every month, it’s not a terrific surprise (something in the 10-12K range).
Not a surprise, sure, but still a shock. Here were two books with solid storytelling and decidedly mature takes on superheroes (without simply being a regurgitation of the standard grim and gritty formula) that should have been selling better than they did. Sure, we can talk about irregular artistic lineups or changing cover designs as getting in the way, but those are primarily cosmetics. The people who wanted to read Wildcats were smart enough to follow the transformations of its (always beautifully-designed) covers, just as the people who were reading SW:TA weren’t all that bothered by the changing roster of artists. Those are relatively minor considerations.
The Toybox and Why It’s Killing Us
“Oh god, what is he on about this week?”
Dunno. Was just thinking really. I do that sometimes, when I’m trying to remain calm in the face of wailing infants and conniving toddlers.
Mostly I was thinking about Marvel’s retread, er, reload of their various titles. I won’t run down the whole list of ‘em, but I’m sure you’ve read a bit about it all, assuming you’ve spent any time at the various comics news sites, etc. Instead of going for the shock of the new, Marvel seems to be going back to a lot of tried and true characters (or at least characters that haven’t been resurrected recently and have a chance at some kind of commercial viability.) Then there’s the whole X-Men thing, where everything’s getting shaken out and started up fresh or something.
I know for a fact that Los Angeles and Long Beach are two completely different cities. They do happen to be in the same state, and they even share border, and yes, they’re both in Los Angeles County. But they are not the same city.
But I guess “Wizard World Long Beach” just doesn’t have the same ring to it. I mean it’d be like announcing Wondercon in San Francisco when it’s actually being held in San Jose.
So, enough kvetching.
I’ll Ever Buy
Guesses, anyone? Anyone care to wager on the title and number? Anyone at all? You, sir, you in the back. You look as if you’ve got a touch of the second sight in you. Care to give it a whirl?
“New X-Men. Number 154.”
No, I haven’t decided to wholeheartedly (or even halfheartedly) embrace the Greg Horn/Jim Balent aesthetic. I know. You’re all very disappointed in me.
The subject of this week’s submission is a wonderful, difficult, infuriating and provocative miniseries, that being Elektra: Assassin. Put out by Epic Comics (it wasn’t always a running joke) in 1986, Elektra was like nothing in the mainstream that had come before it. Let’s set the stage a bit.
Frank Miller had just finished The Dark Knight Returns, which had hit comics like a boot to the face (whose imprint has yet to fade). Bill Sienkiewicz had gone from the second coming of Neal Adams (never really understood how he got tagged with that…) to the chief draw (for me) on The New Mutants, where his jagged, jarring style defined the book on its best run. People were trying to imagine what this collaboration was going to produce (and I remember a lot of disappointment that Mr. Miller was only going to be writing it, not drawing it).
No Donald Fagen Quotes Today
Get it? It’s a column about The New Frontier by Darwyn Cooke and Donald Fagen had a solo hit with a song of the same name and…
Ah, forget it. It wasn’t that funny anyways.
So let’s see. If you’re not a fan of the DC heroes, stop reading now. You should also stop reading if you don’t like “cartoony” artwork or if you don’t like iconic takes on superheroes or if you think they should dress in black leather or don’t like retro styling in your artwork. That should just about cover it. Everyone else, feel free to stay with us. The rest of you should go, oh I don’t know, just about anywhere else. It’ll save everyone a great big headache.
For those of you who are scratching your head and wondering what the hell I’m going on about, I’ll explain. The New Frontier (which is apparently titled DC: The New Frontier) is artist Darwyn Cooke’s take on the DCU of the 1950s. They might as well call it an Elseworlds story, but I guess Elseworlds has run its course and they’re just admitting that if something doesn’t fit in continuity it’s no big deal (this is a Good Thing, mind you.)
Uhm, spoilers follow. If you’re wafting for the trade, stop now.
However, in Mr. Cooke’s tale, the DC heroes aren’t widely embraced by postwar America. Rather, they’re shunned and forced into one of two roles, that of government sanctioned law-enforcement slash military adventurism (Superman and Wonder Woman) or unlawful vigilante (Batman and Hourman, as well as the Flash). That’s really all you need to know. The overall narrative isn’t really propelling the story vignettes, not yet anyways.
“You mean they’re not REAL?”
The above was spoken by my wife in reply to the little disclaimer at the end of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, stating that the preceding movie was a work of fiction and had no basis in fact, etc. A standard legal disclaimer, but a great springboard for some deadpan sarcasm (which from my wife is a rarity beyond compare.)
Can you see where I’m going with this yet?
Sure, I’m a geek. I’ll be the first to admit it. I use obscure Marvel U/DC U references in various net communications (particularly when talking with other geeks), obscure movie references, obscure book references, and hell, even obscure postmodernist theory references when I’m around literature geeks. Oh yeah, and music, too. Weird music. Yeah.
And the fun continues
Part 2 of your survival guide to NuNu Marvel.
Asked about the publicity that Marvel comics received over the last month or so, Mr. Quesada had the following to say.
Funny, as I remember it, there was a fair amount of press over those three #1 movies. That was last year wasn't it?
Remember folks, in case you’ve just tuned in, it’s not about the comic books. It’s about movies and ancilliary merchandise. Without that, the comics are only pretty colored pages. I don’t want to begrudge Marvel their successes in movies. They’ve done fine, maybe even better than fine (though I don’t know how much they get directly from their movie deals, as I recall, it’s not much compared to the grosses). However, I don’t really care about the movies and won’t until Marvel takes those opportunities to expand readership or even tell people that they publish these things called comics. Would it kill anyone to do ashcan giveaways at movie theatres? Would it kill ‘em to have some kind of cross merchandising?
State of the Union
or
Your Survival Guide to NuNu Marvel
Being it’s the day that the State of the Union address is set to be delivered, I’d come up with this big allegory/metaphor and was going to go all litereary on you. But it’s proving to be a trying enough day as it is, so I’ll jut cut to the chase.
Here is your handy-dandy translation guide for the recent Dan Buckley/Joe Quesada interview held by Matt Brady over at Newsarama.
http://www.newsarama.com/pages/Marvel/Ques_Buck_2004.htm
Read it if you haven’t already. Though you probably have, as it came out about a week ago (making it almost as fresh as reports of the Wright Flyer, but there ya have it.) I’ll excerpt the relevant portions here (and thanks to Mr. Brady for doing this in the first place, give him a hand folks.)
People often ask me, “What’s your favorite comic?” From now on, well, at least until I get bored of it, I’m going to reply “Jimmy Olsen Adventures, thanks for asking.”
That’s right. Jimmy freaking Olsen adventures. You heard me.
So this Christmas, I made out like a bandit. A bandit, I tell you. I must have been pretty good this year (I know, shocker), as I found myself laden down with all manner of comic book goodness. To reprint the entire list would be classless, not to mention tacky. However, I will call out a couple of entries in particular, mostly because they got my mind to working.
Hmm. So it’s the end of the old year. In theory, this column will be going up on the first day of 2004 (assuming that the BF staff aren’t out like regular humans and having a good time, as opposed to myself who’s just as likely to be bouncing a baby and trying to stay awake.) What do folks write about at the end of the old year, anyways? This is my first new years with an actual writing gig, so the dilemma has never ocurred to me before.
Oh, I know. New Year’s resolutions. That sounds like a great idea, doesn’t it? A chance at self-examination and an opportunity for improvement and new achievement based upon shedding old bad habits and adopting new ones. Sure, it’s a little easy, but cut me some slack. I got something like six hours of sleep last night, in three two-hour-long chunks. I’m lucky that I can remember my name and that the first comic I ever read was an issue of Kamandi…
But, as someone pointed out to me, choosing resolutions for yourself isn’t any fun. Much more entertaining is picking resolutions for other people, don’t you think? Let’s begin.
It’s Jemas’ world; we just live in it.
Hey folks. Given that things are totally out of whack now, I’m just gonna be safe and say that this’ll probably be my last column of the year. I’ll try to make it a good one, but given that I’ve only been getting four hours of sleep a night and spent the last couple weeks juggling both sets of in-laws and trying to convince my son Eric that his little sister isn’t a virus from outer space that’s going to kill us all, it might be a little…scattered.
So yeah, how about that 2003? That was a fun year, wasn’t it? Well maybe not if you’re a Marvel Zombie (and I say that with all the affection that a lapsed Marvel Zombie himself can muster). Let’s face it, last year was a litany of failed initiatives and missed opportunities for Marvel. I won’t detail them, as Graeme and a bunch of other folks already have, and probably did a better job than I could hope to.
Yes, I’m back. Sorry about the skipped week, but that happens in a month with 5 Wednesdays, doesn’t it?
Things have been a bit crazier than usual, maybe a tad melodramatic, too. Sorry if that slopped over into your readings of the last couple of weeks. I’ll try to keep that sort of thing to a minimum.
So, let’s talk about a few things that have come through my pile of comics to read, shall we? Aw, c’mon. It’ll be fun.
A short column this week folks, for reasons that are likely obvious, should you plow your way through my latest serving of self-indulgence and safely-from-the-sideline coaching.
It strikes of late, that I may indeed come across as a supremely confident know-it-all with a resolution of adamantine steel and unshakable determination. At least I like to think so. After all, I’m about to become a fearless self-publisher, right?
If you’re looking for more talk about Epic comics…
You’ve come to the wrong place. I figure that last week should be pretty much enough on the subject (and hey, I wrote that on Monday, so I feel less stupid than usual about my prognosticatory skills.)
So let’s pick a different subject. I’ve been on Marvel’s back for a little while it seems, and really, it’s beginning to get old. Sure, it’s fun, but like any kitten playing with a ball of string, eventually I’m going to get bored and wander off and find something else to pick on.
Like monthly comics. Yeah, that’s a ripe target.
Ah, the wit and wisdom of Bluto Blutarsky. Timelessly classic.
So, I’ve a tiny little confession to make. No, nothing as embarrassing as having an entire run of Dazzler (though I’d have to say that I think I still do). Wanna know what it is?
Okay, here it is. I bought into the Epic hype. Not that I thought it was my ticket to the comics industry (‘cause it certainly wasn’t; as I got my “Dear Marvel Fan” letter a couple weeks back.) You haven’t heard about it until now because I’ve been crying into my pillow every night, too broken up and too hurt to talk about it to anyone but my analyst.
Continue reading ""Was it over when the Germans bombed Pearl Harbor?"" »
Probably not the best title for this week’s submission, but entirely appropriate. I spent Sunday glued to the television, after driving out for breakfast. Before said drive, I was commenting on an odd cloud formation, low to the ground and dark, wondering what happened to that fogbank. My wife said “It’s smoke from a fire.” “Nonsense,” I replied. “If it were that close, we’d be smelling it,” and I couldn’t smell a thing.
We drove down for our breakfast and got about halfway there when we’d realized that we were driving into the open jaws of hell. The sky turned black with smoke and the sun was rendered to a relatively inconsequential pinky-orange disc. Everyone had their lights on and you still couldn’t see all that well.