Author: Martha Thomases

There used to be ten comic book stores within a mile of my apartment. Now, there are two.

To be fair, this is two more than most people have. And when I expand the radius to two miles, there are more than a dozen. Which, again, is more than most people have. There used to be a lot more bookstores, too, even before the Borders bankruptcy. Some of this is the ebb and flow of commerce, and some of it is specific to publishing.

Most of the comic book stores near me closed in the early 1990s, when the direct market imploded. Speculators stopped buying, and there simply weren’t enough reading fans to support so many stores. With bookstores, the same kind of competition had an effect. Instead of speculators, bookstores suffered from Internet offering lower prices and free delivery. More recently, the success of Kindles and other e-readers means that fewer readers are buying physical books.

Comic fans have been reading comics online for years. You, yourself, can read comics – for free – on this very site. It’s possible to illegally download comics you’d otherwise have to pay for, through a process I’ve always thought was too complicated to bother with. Also, I don’t mind artists and writers getting paid.

Starting next month, DC Comics will offer readers the chance to buy comics digitally at the same time (and at the same price) they are available in stores. Naturally, comic book stores are less than thrilled about this.

This is a long and winding way to get to my rant.

(more…)

According to stories like this, there was quite the kerfuffle at this year’s San Diego Comic-Con about the decline in the number of female artists and writers on the new DC reboot.

Raising questions about this is guaranteed to get one labeled a bitch (or worse). Kudos to Batgirl for being the bitch. It’s a thankless job, but somebody has to do it. However, I’m disturbed by DC’s response. They claim they were looking for the “best available” talent. Apparently, the best indicator of talent is a penis.

Look, I understand that DC (and Marvel, and Dark Horse, and IDW and so on and so on) want to hire writers and artists with built-in fan followings. It’s a competitive market, and anything that helps to sell the product is desirable. I also understand that these publishers want to hire people who have demonstrated an ability to meet deadlines reliably, and the easiest way to do that is to employ people you’ve already employed.

But…

The entertainment media require a steady influx of new talent. Some, like music and movies, demand youth, and too much experience can be considered a drawback. Other branches of publishing, such as books and magazines, all have systems in place to not only keep successful writers, artists and photographers, but also to develop new ones.

Mainstream comics, not so much.

I got my break at Marvel because I hung out at the office a lot. This was back in the mid-1980s, before heinous security measures engulfed New York office buildings. I had interviewed Denny O’Neil for High Times magazine, and exploited our acquaintance (and subsequent friendship) so that I could hang out, use the photocopiers, and make free long-distance calls. Because of this, I was a familiar face, and when Larry Hama wanted to expand the kind of comics he was publishing, he took a chance on me, and we developed Dakota North with Tony Salmons.

No one has since taken a chance on me. Dwayne McDuffie once told me this was all the evidence he needed that comics is a sexist business. As things stand now, most people who enter the field of mainstream comics are former fans. The business won’t attract more women until it creates more comics that girls like. And it probably won’t create more comics that girls like until there are more people who used to be girls making comics. It’s a vicious circle.

The easiest way to break this chain is to make it less profitable. The first step in that direction, at least at DC, seems to be the failure of the Green Lantern movie to make a boatload of money. Geoff Johns, fanboy in chief, seems to be getting the blame. I admit that I kind of liked it, but that’s because I’ve been reading the comics for 50 years … and, also, Ryan Reynolds in a skintight suit. Most people who buy movie tickets don’t have my knowledge of the backstory, and so didn’t have the patience to sit through it.

Bringing in new perspectives isn’t easy. The old ways are easy. Unfortunately, the old ways inevitably produce the old results. Since this is comics, it doesn’t have the same impact as, say, firefighting, but the results of this laziness are the same – ostracizing newcomers and alienating the general public.

Comic book editors, look beyond your slush piles! Seek out new talent at places other than portfolio reviews at comic conventions! There’s a whole world of talent out there.

SATURDAY: Marc Alan Fishman

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• DC Responds to Concerns over Lack of Female Comic Creators (comicvine.com)

Androids may or may not dream of electric sheep. Lately, however, I dream of Paul Levitz.

No, not like that. Get your mind out of the gutter. Yeesh.

Having said that, it’s still a disturbing experience.

I’ve known Paul since the late 1970s. He was my boss’s boss for the ten years I worked at DC Comics in the 1990s. His daughter is around the same age as my son, and sometimes we would both bring our kids to a convention and watch them work the booth together. I don’t see him very much these days, but our relationship has never been worse than cordial.

That’s not why he’s prowling through my sub-conscious.

In my dreams, I’m back at DC. The only problem is, no one else knows it. No one has actually hired me. I’m sneaking into an empty office, unpacking my Rolodex, and booting up the archaic IBM computer.

I’ve secured a space, and now I need to start doing my job, so I can justify my position. When I had the job, I’d go and talk to editors to find out what we were publishing, whether it was a newsworthy storyline or an interesting creative team. This technique worked pretty well for me. I got stories into gossip columns (e.g. the Lois and Clark engagement, the Death of Superman), and I got writers and artists interviewed by mainstream magazines (e.g. Neil Gaiman in Details).

Now I have to sneak around, crawling into offices to snatch photocopies of upcoming books. And then, I find out that Warner Bros. is going to make a Justice League movie. This fills me with fear.

Why? What does this mean?

I was one of the last people to actually get my own computer at DC, so clearly, my sub-conscious wants me to assert territorial rights. The crawling means my self-esteem is low, hardly a news-flash.

But a Justice League movie?

During my tenure, it was policy that any time there was a story involving a character scheduled for television or the movies, my work had to be approved by Warner Bros.’ publicists in Burbank before I could contact any media. This was cumbersome but doable when the only character involved was Batman. For the most part, corporate was reasonable.

The most frustrating exception, from my point of view, was when Chris O’Donnell was promoting a Batman movie on the Letterman show, right across the street. I wanted to send over a copy of a Robin comic, maybe get a picture. I was told I couldn’t, because Chris didn’t like to promote “licensed” products. My attempt to say that the movie was licensed from us was not successful.

A Justice League movie would mean that no character could be promoted without corporate approval from Burbank.

And everything would have to go through Paul. I have to keep myself a secret, but still be spectacularly successful to keep my nonexistent job. In my dream, Paul is the logjam. I must simultaneously perform a miracle and get the credit I deserve, while acting like I’m not really there, just visiting.

At least I kept my clothes on.

SATURDAY: Marc Alan Fishman