Seems as though I never quite have enough time to devote to this blog anymore. And yet, I'm loathe to let it simply die out. Maybe that's just ego talking (and ego is the thing that most often gets in the way), but I feel like we provide a nice little service here.
So I'm going back to my standard bag of tricks and opening the floor to Reader Questions once again.
Standard house rules apply:
1) Each poster can ask no more than two questions.
2) Any poster can veto any question for any reason.
Some people seem mystified by the parameters of that last rule (especially when it's their own question being vetoed.) From my point of view, it's pretty cut-and-dried. We're talking about a vox populai here, voice of the people. I'll answer what people want to know, but I have as little interest in entertaining the long-running personal crusades of some as you do in wanting to listen to it.
So a veto can come from any poster, on any question, for any reason. Nobody needs to justify their choices to anybody else. And you can't Veto a Veto--only I can do that, and will only do so in the most extraordinary circumstances.
So, phone lines are now open. Ask your questions in the reply section of this post only. Tuesday morning, we'll close off the category, and I'll begin answering.
I read a scene the other day in a script that had come in that really made an impact on me. It was just a little six-page sequence, nothing important-but the emotional truth of the scene, what it said about the origins of the principle character, how he'd gotten to be where he was, the compromises he'd made, and the regrets he felt, rang out with a reverberation of honest truth to them. It wasn't a bombastic scene, and in the grand scheme of things, most readers might not even have the same reaction. Nevertheless, I felt like this was a writer who was really on his game that day.
This, then, should always be the goal of any story-to connect with the audience on an almost visceral level. To reveal the emotional truths of existence, and through them, to convey a greater understanding of humanity and existence. Those moments are the ones that stay with people, that lend stories their greatest power.
And unfortunately, they're often few and far between. Everybody working in this field gets so caught up in the pyrotechnics, the continuity, the color and the splash and the action that it's very easy to lose sight of that key, crucial, tiny element that can make a story memorable. (And that's nothing against the pyrotechnics and so forth. All of that is part and parcel of the energy and excitement that make comics fun and engaging to read. But I think that, without a true emotional hook, that stuff begins to lose its luster relatively quickly, empty calories that provide a temporary sugar rush, but leave you crashing afterwards.)
I feel like I keep reading the same scenes, the same exchanges and conflicts, the same false drama over and over again. It's time to set the bar a bit higher for ourselves. Time to rededicate ourselves to illuminating those truths of character, to digging down deeper, probing the characters, turning them over and over and figuring out what makes them tick, why we're fascinated by them, and then placing them in situations that reveal new facets-and, by extension, new facets of ourselves.
I suspect this is why Brian Bendis' work is so popular. Despite the fact that he's not the strongest plotter in the business (as Stephen R. Stahl will relate to you ad nauseum in the comments section below), and isn't always as interested in the physicality of a conflict or an adventure, his stories inevitably revolve around some core nugget of emotional truth, and typically one that we haven't seen expressed before in comics (or at least not quite in that way.) Which isn't to say that Brian gets it right every single time, but his hit-to-miss ration when it comes to striking that chord of emotional truth is really good, and because it's at the heart of what interests him about doing comics, he's always swinging the bat.
So that's my 2010 goal: push back towards the fundamentals of striving to find the emotional truth of the stories and the characters, and place a greater emphasis on that among our writers and editors. Raise the bar. Good thing we've got an editorial retreat coming up here.
Haven't had any time lately to even think about a new blog entry, a condition that may not be changing any time soon. But I thought I'd at least take a minute to try to leave you with some new preview art for the weekend, since that's relatively easy.
There still seems to be a lot of ire over the shipping schedule of REBORN, and the fact that Steve Rogers has begun to turn up in other titles, such as CAPTAIN AMERICA: WHO WILL WIELD THE SHIELD, INVINCIBLE IRON MAN and NEW AVENGERS. Most of the chatter, I suspect, comes from people who don't understand why this all happened, which is understandable.
I posted the following over at the Comics Should Be Good blog at CBR on 12/23 in answer to their post "HOW, EXACTLY, DOES THIS HAPPEN?" in regards to the release of CAP:WWWTS--but I figure that it could use wider dissemenation. So here it is again:
I've touched on this in a couple of other places, but just to go through it all once again:
We misestimated. When Ed and I first spoke about REBORN, we thought we'd be able to do it in five issues. So that's how many we budgeted for, and thereafter we timed everything that was to follow, including SIEGE, from that point.
But by the time we got to issue #5, it became apparent that we needed more space. We needed an extra issue. Ed's first draft of #5, which was to have been the conclusion, was rushed and cramped and unsatisfying. It didn't work--we needed more space, and more pages than Hitch would have been able to produce for one issue on this timeframe.
So after looking at all of our options, and trying to take the long-term view of things as we did with CIVIL WAR earlier, we decided that it was better all around for the conclusion of REBORN to be good and take an extra issue, rather than trying to jam it all into the space we had. But that meant that REBORN #6 was going to ship later than a bunch of the stuff that was supposed to come after it--the cost of doing business.
I know this is going to irritate a lot of people, but I hope not as many and not for as lasting an amount of time as a crappy conclusion would have. All I can really say to you is, "Sorry, folks." (which was on the recap page to WIELD not as a jab of some sort, but as an honest admission that yes, we know this isn't a great situation, we're not blind or stupid, but we're making what we think is the best choice. Sincerely, sorry for the inconvenience, best we could do.)
Also, anybody who thinks that we've spoiled everything about REBORN #6 is clearly underestimating this creative team. There'll still be some things to hopefully shock, thrill, intrigue and tantalize you and your fellow readers--and to create some comic shop chatter when the issue ships. At least that's the plan--we'll see how this all winds up playing out, both in the short and long term. And it'll still look just as lovely, and make for a beautiful collection when all is said and done.
One last point I feel obliged to make. REBORN isn't spot-on on time, but it's really close, especially when you stop and consider that every issue so far has been at bare minimum 28 pages of story and art, rather than our standard 22 (and for no increase in price.) We've put out five issues in six months--not a perfect monthly, but not the horrifying abomination of scheduling that people want to imagine this is. We're not even as far off course as CIVIL WAR was. But because this is Hitch, and people still want to punish him for the lateness of ULTIMATES, the actual extent of the ship-drift is blown way out of proportion. And over those five issues, with the additional pages he drew, that's like an additional issue's worth of material he generated.
Look, the situation stinks. I'm no happier about it than anybody else. And I understand your frustrations with this, and fully expect this chatter not to die down, especially as we move into the early stages of SIEGE proper. We made a call. Time will tell if it was the right one.
The first thing I ever solo-edited was the MARVEL COMICS POSTER BOOK FEATURING JIM LEE, which went on sale in the summer of 1991. It wasn't a tough project to do at all, basically consisting of eight cool Jim Lee covers recolored and printed without logos, and with some brief spot-copy on the backs. I seem to recall that I wrote that spot-copy-I did a lot of that sort of thing working in Bob Budiansky's Special Projects area, where we worked mainly on posters, trading cards, licensing artwork, movie adaptations and custom comics. It gave me a strong, well-rounded education in many different facets of this job, and exposed me to a ton of creators.
Jim Lee was very helpful on the project, despite never having met me before then. He arranged to have the original artwork for most of the pieces we wanted to include in the book sent back to me at the office, so we could achieve the best possible reproduction. The pieces were recolored by Gregory Wright, for whom I'd interned a year earlier and who was one of the stronger colorists of the period. And the typically-cheerful Joe Kaufman did the design and the mechanicals, one of the easiest guys to work with.
There was one big hiccup with the project. On the production schedule, and in every conversation and memo dealing with it, the project was referred to as the JIM LEE POSTERBOOK. So that was what I assumed the name of the thing was, and what we got designed and mechanicaled up. It was only when the cover was sent around for final routing that Editor In Chief Tom DeFalco came to me to tell me that we couldn't name the book after the creator, but that instead it should be called the MARVEL COMICS POSTERPOOK. There was some argument between assorted parties that we needed to say Jim Lee on the cover, since that's what we were selling it based on, which is why the final prominently says FEATURING ARTWORK BY JIM LEE. But I remember having to get the entire cover torn apart and redone, including rewriting all of the back cover copy so as to not spotlight Jim, all under a crushing deadline as the thing was supposed to go to the printer that day. The first of many such crises I've dealt with over the years.
It turns out that I'm going to miss the twentieth anniversary of my hiring at Marvel, as the date (12/27) falls on a Sunday this year. Nevertheless, and despite having talked about this topic in the past, I didn't want to let the moment slip by without commemorating it in some way. And since I'm certain that things are going to be crazy-hectic around here in these last two weeks leading up to X-Mas, I figured I'd better hit this while I have a chance.
It's impossible to convey both just how much and just how little Marvel and the comic book industry have changed since I've been a part of them. On one level, virtually everything has changed. When I started at Marvel, for example, there was only one computer in the place, and I knew how to use it better than almost anybody else already on staff. Type was still being set on a Linotype machine, and pasted up mechanically by hand. Speaking of by hand, that's how everything was done-lettering, paste-up, corrections, etc. Coloring was primitive, though the number of colors had begun to expand (from a palate of 64 to a whopping 128 options!) done using Doc Martin's dyes on Xerox copies of the original artwork, then interpreted by separators cutting rubylith masks for the printer. And while the Direct Sales marketplace of comic book specialty stores had overtaken the traditional returnable newsstand marketplaces, it was still maybe a 60/40 arrangement.
On the other hand, Marvel was then and is now a colorful, chaotic place to work, peopled with the kinds of extravagant characters you thought were found only in fiction. It's the kind of place where people work long hours because they like the work they're doing, and the people who surround them. Were that not the case, we could never have kept the company operating through those long years of bankruptcy, when it seemed as though there was a new company President every week, and morale was low.
When the waves of layoff came, and I looked around to realize that I alone (along with my assistant Glenn Greenberg) has survived from my particular department, I had to question it. Years later, I was told that it had come down to a coin-toss situation between me and another editor, and that it was felt that I would be a better team player. Regardless, I've always tried to prove worthy of the confidence shown in me, to work harder and smarter than the next guy, to give back as much as I took and earn my way. I think I've largely been successful in that, but I don't really have the perspective to put it all into context.
I can only imagine how it feels to be Ralph Macchio, the only person still in editorial to have been hired before me-by more than a decade! Ralph was a long-seasoned veteran by the time I walked in the door. But after me, the next-longest-tenured person in editorial is Joe Q. All of my contemporaries are gone now, as are their successors and antecedents. Soon, there will be assistant editors younger than comics I edited. There are already Marvel interns who can say that.
But still, somehow, Marvel goes on, changing and transforming and adapting as it goes.
In two more years, I'll reach the next milestone: having worked for Marvel for literally half of my life. There's no guarantee that I'll get there, of course-that's another reality that you embrace at Marvel every day-but the odds seem better now than they had been in years past.
Starting today with some brief shilling. In case you haven't noticed it, we recently released Olivier Coipel's interconnected covers to TALES OF ASGARD as a single, stunning wall poster that's in stores now. This sucker is huge, the size of six normal posters-it literally dominates any wall it's affixed to. Plus, you'll want to remember the way Asgard used to look after SIEGE hits in a few short weeks. The super-cool kickoff book SIEGE: THE CABAL is in stores today and sets the stage, with some crucial happenings in a couple other places in the next few weeks as well. Also in stores today, DARK AVENGERS ANNUAL #1 is on my short list of the five best Avengers issues Brian bendis has written, with absolutely stellar art from Chris Bachalo.
I got this letter a few days ago from an industry professional, and I feel like sharing. I've removed his name so as not to cause him any embarrassment or attention. It's always lovely to get this kind of thing from a creator you respect:
Just a quick note to tell you that I am LOVING the Avengers books right now.
Even though Bendis lives in Portland and we have mutual friends, we really don't know each other, and he certainly doesn't know who I am when we do cross paths, but I gotta say-- the man can write comics. I love the tapestry he constantly creates with his books, where events overlap in different issues, and/or are seen from different perspectives. In many ways, it reminds me of what Kirby did with his Fourth World books, where each story stands on its own, but becomes so much richer when all the parts are taken together. (Which, let's face it, is really the heart of the Marvel Universe, isn't it?) I'm also constantly impressed with how SATISFYING Bendis' issues are. Even when, objectively and/or plot-wise, very little happens, the books hold my attention from beginning to end. His dialogue is always sharp and engaging, and there's a thrilling urgency to every issue.
And the art ain't bad, either.
Slott's work is great, too, BTW. Although I'm not totally sold on the "Scientist Supreme" idea-- it seems to be too much like when they say "And now the Flash can run FASTER THAN EVER BEFORE!" which really doesn't mean anything. To me, at least. But other than that, his Avengers is always at the top of my pile whenever a new issue comes out.
And looking at the Bigger Picture, I've also been very impressed with how Marvel, as a whole, has moved from Civil War to Secret Invasion to Dark
Reign-- each emerging very organically from what came before and propelling the Universe forward in what seems, to me, to be a very logical, unforced progression.
The last few years is the best Marvel has been in decades.
Trying to get everything done so I can get out of her for the Thanksgiving break, but I was hoping to get at least one more blog entry up before I went. So begins the quest for the easy win-something that I've got stashed away in my files that I can simply reproduce here and entertain you with, but that won't take me long to do.
And so, here's an e-mail that I wrote to a well-established creator concerning a project that wound up not quite happening. I've taken out the one or two telltale signs that might indicate who it was, since there's no reason to air that sort of dirty laundry publicly. But hopefully, this will give you some idea as to how we might communicate with a creator when there's a difference of opinion on any number of story matters:
CREATOR'S NAME,
It seems as though you took offense to my comments on your outline, but really, no offense was meant. I've got great respect for your many accomplishments in the field. I certainly realize that you're not an amateur, and had no intention of treating you as one--if my comments came off that way, I apologize. But you know as well as anyone that it's the job of the editor to scrutinize the work, to examine it and see if there are any areas that could be made stronger, any options that may not have been considered. I certainly don't have all the answers--heck, I may not have _any_ of the answers--but it's a part of my job to ask these kinds of questions, and to offer up options and another perspective.
You're a professional. I'm a professional. I have confidence in your ability to tell a coherent story, and I'm aware that this is just an outline, with many details and specifics left open until the actual execution of the project. From my experience, however, it's always a mistake to hold off on voicing a concern or offering up an opinion until later in the process. If there's something I see, I'd rather put my cards on the table and discuss the issue up front, rather than have us take two steps forward and then have to take two steps back. If I don't state even what seems obvious up front, then if it doesn't end up in the final work, the fault is squarely on my shoulders.
I don't expect you to simply do what I say, but I think it's reasonable that if I have a question about why you're approaching a certain character/scene/idea/whatever a certain way that you articulate your point of view, and convince me of its correctness. If the logic is impeccable, then it's impeccable. But you and I could both point to plenty of mediocre comics that have been done by talented, seasoned professionals. I don't want to risk contributing to that pile through inaction, and I'd rather look like a moron and state the obvious than run the risk of having something get lost in the process. A good final product benefits all of us, and bringing up seemingly basic issues diminished neither of us. My focus is on the work, not on the individual behind the work. None of what I wrote was intended to be taken personally (bearing in mind that any act of creation is a personal affair), and I certainly didn't mean to insult or belittle you in any way.
So let me throw the ball back in your court. I'd still like to move ahead with the project. I hold to some of my reservations about the specific points raised in my first response, but we can work those out through discussion. But if you think this is just an unworkable situation, let's shake hands and walk away now. And if you'd like to speak about any of these issues directly, you can always reach me at PHONE NUMBER.
Had an interesting conversation with somebody the other day about the evolution of our collecting habits, and he said something that set my mind racing down particular corridors. In talking about how what he was purchasing had changed, he remarked , "I can't justify paying that kind of money for a comic book I might read only one or twice before I die."
Now, focus on impending mortality aside, I've started to feel the same way a little bit in some respects. I don't have quite the same hang-up about the money-it's the time I don't seem to have. My 12-year-old self would be horrified by the three long-boxes of comics that I have sitting around unread, all stuff I've gotten in the regular weekly freebie bundles that I haven't had a chance to dive into just yet.
And that stuff has already made it past the first hurtle, in which I immediately discard anything that I know I'm never going to get around to reading. More recently, though, I've been cherry-picking this stack a little bit, because I've fallen so far behind-and now I can't even seem to keep up with the cherry-pickin' pile on a week-to-week basis.
I'm about as fast a comic book reader as there is. The typical issue of any title will take me under five minutes to polish off, less if I'm not engaged by the material and am just skimming through it. But there's so much good material out there, and so many different options, that I find I'm having to limit my choices and decisions simply in order to be able to get through it all. I find the same is true with other media as well-I watch far fewer movies than I used to, and there's almost always a stack of shows waiting for me on my Tivo at any given point.
What this all means is that the bar is being set higher and higher. I simply don't have enough time to stick with mediocre comics over the long haul. And I suspect, whether it's a financial imperative, or a time one, or an aesthetic one, there are a lot of readers who are feeling the same way. It's no longer good enough to just be good enough.
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