My Secret Origin: Rebirth!

Late last week marked the end of my Twenties. It also marked my twentieth year as a comic collector, something that kind of blows my mind. So, to celebrate I embarked on a nostalgic journey across the history of my comic collecting, starting with my first run-ins with the medium and ultimately what forced me to stop for a time. Spoilers, it didn't last. Come join me now as we finish this crazy journey and explore what started my love for comics all over again.
Also, sorry for the dramatic pause between entries. Let's just say the celebrations for my annual day started a bit early and leave it at that.

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I bought my last comic in the Fall of 1999 and was determined to stick with that decision. It actually worked out pretty well, because as a poor college student I didn't have the disposable income I had when I was in High School. Plus, I didn't have the room for anything in those tiny shared dorms. For a time there life was simple, unencumbered, and honestly kind of boring. As much as I didn't want to admit it, I kind of missed comics.

Occasionally during that time, I would find myself in various comic shops and found a renewed vigor in my decision. Say what you will about the early 90s, the late 90s were even worse for comics. Piles of books with crazy intertwining story lines, bored plots, and an increasingly outdated look. The world seemed to be moving forward while comics were just wallowing.



Full disclosure, I was still buying one book (in trades) during this period: Preacher. I would argue though that Preacher was as anti-superhero that you could go in the mainstream and still enjoy on a very visceral level. In recent years, I've given Preacher to people who aren't sure about comics and have instantly gotten them hooked. It's simple, consistent art style mixed with the no-nonsense, over-the-top storytelling made for an experience that proved comics aren't just for kids anymore.



Anyway.

It was the summer of 2001 when my geek habits started to rear their ugly heads again. Living off campus, and being the responsible 20 year-old I was, I needed a job to, you know, live. After a long search, I found the best job a guy like me could want: Sales Associate at KB Toys. For a few hours a week, I was paid to hang out in a toy store with cool older geeks and it was amazing. Plus, I got a 15% discount on everything in the store. Needless to say, my status as reformed geek was in danger.

To make matters "worse", I got a new place and a new, geek-enabling roommate. A dear friend of mine to this day, this guy would encourage me to relapse on my pledge and give into all those geeky urges I was feeling. Basically, I would never want this guy to be my AA sponsor, I'm just saying. It was with him that I made my triumphant return to the San Diego Comic Con.

When I was a kid, I used to go every year, buy a load of books, and just revel in the comic audacity of it all. Returning after a few years of not collecting made me view things in a different way. Instead of hunting for expensive back issues or buying random toys, I was there for the experience of it all. I ended up with a few sketches, a handful of pictures of costumed fans, and a select few trades that seemed interesting. Even though I was in the heart of comic fandom, I wasn't quite ready to give up my pledge. Not quite yet.

While I gobbled up books like Powers, it wasn't until I saw a preview for Daredevil: Yellow that I found myself swept up in the comic madness again.



There's something about that book that defines Marvel at the turn of the century. The focus on characters over action, maybe; the non-traditional (but totally awesome) Tim Sale art (for a superhero story), maybe; Maybe, it was just at the right place at the right time. Whatever the case, Daredevil: Yellow was a turning point for me.

I recently sat down to read it again to see if it actually holds up to my high praise and I gotta tell you, it doesn't disappoint. The story's simple enough: Matt Murdock, in an attempt to get over the death of the woman he loves writes her a letter about how he fell in love with her. Starting with the death of his father through the moment he truly captured Karen's heart, the book chronicles Daredevil's early Silver Age antics through a very modern and emotional lens. Done in mostly desaturated colors and sweeping visuals, the whole thing never fails to blow me away.



It did it's job, I was totally hooked. Suddenly, I found myself as excited as I was when I was a kid to read the latest issues. But instead of collecting in the hope that one day these books would make me money, I was collecting because I loved all the stories therein. I made a conscious effort to only buy the comics that I wanted to read and, more importantly, stop getting them if they were terrible. I was reborn as a collector and the future was bright.

In the years since, I've become the 'comic guy' in my group of friends. If anyone has a question on who Thor is, or how many Flashes there are, or where Spider-Man gets all his webbing from, I'm their guy. Additionally, I've become a gateway for people looking to get into my favorite hobby, offering book, character, or storyline suggestions for anyone who seems interested. Even more fun, I've become a repository for people looking to get rid of their comics from a run of Fantastic Four to a full on seven long box collection (the inspiration for the blog, honestly). Needless to say, my collection has kind of exploded fairly recently.

And that brings us to today, where as a thirty year-old I sit proudly atop my massive collection twenty years in the making. Sure, it might be cumbersome to move and a pain in the ass to sort sometimes, but it's mine and I love it. I don't know what the future of my comic collecting will bring, but I can't wait to find out.

I hope you stick around to find out with me.

My Secret Origin, The Dark Times

At the end of this week I turn 30 which would be weird enough on it's own, but it also marks my TWENTIETH year reading comics. As a celebration (or validation) of this anniversary, I've decided to take a trip down memory lane and highlight some milestones. The past few days I've discussed how I became a fan through circumstance, fate, and some social pressure. Alas, the good times couldn't last forever, and with an imminent move to college, they were destined to come to an end...
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As bad as a rap the 90s gets for being pure terrible comics, it was the perfect time for me to start reading. Issues were relatively cheap (unless they had some gimmick cover), the selection was huge, and they were readily available every where I went. For a kid looking for a hip new hobby, comics certainly made it easy on me. And for this kid, it was all about Spider-Man and X-Men.

Spider-Man was a constant in my collection for years, but unfortunately the 90s were terrible times for the webslinger. While I was intrigued as anyone by the angst-ridden 'There is no man, only The SPIDER' stuff it really didn't grab me the way I suppose it intended. Same thing with the Spider-Clone fiasco. As interesting as it all was, I never felt truly invested in any of the characters. So, when it seemed that the clone saga was never going to end, I got out and never looked back. Besides, I still had the X-Men and life was good with them.



There was nothing not to like about X-Men in the 90s for an eager teenage comic reader like myself. Each issue was jammed packed with intrigue, hot girls, big action, and plenty of plot twists to me on the edge of my seat. Contrary to logical thought, I loved the intertwining storylines, the never-ending flow of events, and the utter ridiculousness of some of those characters (I'm looking at you, Nate Grey).

However, post Age of Apocalypse, the quality of the events started to wane. Starting with Onslaught and continuing through Zero Tolerance and the Magneto War, each event seemed to set up some amazing premise and fall on it's face. For whatever the reason, I always let it slide, hoping that the next event would be the one that returned everything to the franchise's former glory. And then there was The Twelve.



The notion of "The Twelve" was one of those dangling, long standing plot lines introduced by a throwaway line in an early issue of X-Factor (surprisingly not by Chris Claremont). In the issue in question, a rampaging Master Mold tells Cyclops that he's one of the twelve mutants that will form the future. From that one line, fans went all conspiracy theorist and demanded answers.

Almost ten years, a major cultural movement, and countless crazy-ass events later, Marvel decided to give in and figure out what this 'The Twelve' thing really was. And it was terrible.

Nominally a story about Apocalypse and his latest scheme for world domination, this time with the help of twelve cipher mutants, it attempted to be the cap on years of storytelling and that was my major problem with it. It might have been the years building up to it, or the fact that I was getting ready to go to college, but suddenly I found myself just plain not caring about anything that happened.

Where before, when I was a younger reader, I loved the complexity of the X-Men, with The Twelve it became more of a chore, and frankly one that I hated. For every character that showed up, there was some kind of caveat that I needed to know about why they were there and their relations with the rest of the cast. Sounds pretty standard, I know, but when it comes down to "Bishop just showed up and he's confused because in his own series he's running around in a strange future-ish world where he's the last X-Man but doesn't know why" it gets a little tedious.

Plus, I hated all those fucking mutant skrulls that I feel were thrust on the situation. A pox on Fiz and his stupid brethren, I'm glad they were subjugated. Stupid skrulls, got no business being in my X-Books.



Sorry, that was a tangent. Anyway...

As bad as the massive amount of backstory needed to enjoy The Twelve was, the worst thing about it was the ending. Alan Davis actually came up with a pretty neat idea involving The Twelve where each mutant in question represented what would be a part of the new world he was going to create. To wit, The Living Monolith was the Earth; Magneto and Polaris the poles; Iceman, Sunfire, and Storm as the elements; and you get the point, it was clever. So, of course, they all escaped at the last minute to face off against the ailing Apocalypse, who was attempting to jump into a new host body (Hey, there's Nate Grey again). With options running out, Cyclops, the man that started all of this, leaps in the way and ends up becoming the new host for the world's first mutant.



And then the event ended.

Sure, it was supposed to lead into some other crazy event right away, but I didn't care. After roughly six months of explicit set up, not to mention the years of storylines previous, everything ended right when things got interesting. A quick glance at what was coming up the next month - a strange Age of Apocalypse knockoff - confirmed it for me, I was done. Done, not just with the X-Men, but with comics in general.

"Besides," my 17 year-old brain rationalized at the time, "I'm going to college and it's time I grow up a bit. I don't want boxes of comics scaring away all the cute girls I'm going to meet." (ED NOTE- there were none)

And so, that was that, with my boxes tucked safely away at my parents' house I drifted off to college, content in the belief that I was done with comics forever. It was one the most "Spider-Man No More" moments I've ever had in my life.

As I'm sure you can surmise, this new resolve didn't last forever. Come back tomorrow as my love for the medium is rekindled, my outlook on collecting is changed forever, and my collection soars to crazy heights that would make my 9 year-old self implode with jealousy.

My Secret Origin Continues

I'm turning 30 at the end of the week, which is not only a huge birthday, but it also marks my 20th year collecting comics. To celebrate both, I'm taking this week to reminisce about my comic collecting milestones. Today's adventure: My first steps into a larger world.
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Moving when you're a kid is rough. It's even rougher when move during the summer, doubly so if it's hot-ass Arizona. I went from living in a mildly hot climate with plenty of kids my age running around on their giant grassy lawns, to living on the surface of the sun with rock lawns and nary a kid in sight. Needless to say, it wasn't the best summer of my life.

I lucked out, however, and managed to meet the three boys my age that lived in the neighborhood. The kids were great, but very different than what I had been accustomed to growing up in Reno. Instead of loving GI Joe, Baseball, and outdoor adventuring, these kids were into video games, swimming, and most importantly, comics. It was here that the seeds that were planted on that faithful day at the airport came to fruition.

These kids weren't your typical comic nerds, especially for being indoor kids. They had a swagger about them, something that made reading comics the coolest thing in the world, and I wanted to be like them. Still with no good store nearby, and not a lot of extra income (those GI Joes didn't just grow on trees you know), I needed a boost into this new, exciting hobby. The solution presented itself decked out in red and white, reeking of mistletoe.

That year Santa did not disappoint, delivering a small cache of comics for this well-deserving ten year-old, the perfect starter kit. The gem of the collection had to be this:



GI Joe #104, a Snake Eyes solo story following everyone's favorite ninja commando as he lays the smack down on some European country all by himself. I was, on paper, the perfect bridge from my love of GI Joes to this new way to spend my money. Unfortunately, I didn't like it at all.

My version of GI Joe was informed by the cartoon and my own imagination, nothing like what this comic version was. While I appreciated the Snake Eyes action (and that he looked like the figure that I had, something that was rare with the cartoons), everything else was so out of whack I just couldn't get into it. If these books weren't the only comics I had, I surely would have gotten rid of them in a hurry. But alas, at that time, I just needed inventory so I could be cool. Quality be damned.



As a quick aside, I recently gave this issue a second look and it's really not bad. It's no diamond in the rough, but for a full on action issue involving Snake Eyes shooting random dudes in the face while under some kind of ninja trance that turned him into a one-man murder machine it was pretty fucking cool. Also, I was shocked to discover that Snake Eyes is sans mask for half of it, a fact that would have blown my ten year-old mind had I actually sat down to read the thing and not just look at the pictures.



Anyway, my feelings about these books notwithstanding, they did the trick and started me down the path to being a full on comic nerd. Those four GI Joe books quickly became an assortment of Marvel superhero books and my collection was in full swing. After a few months of buying whatever I could get my hands on - and, sigh, whatever I thought would be worth money in the future - I settled into a nice steady habit of X-Force, Amazing Spider-Man and Wizard Magazine, among others. Before you knew it, I had the biggest collection on the block with no signs of slowing down.

For a few years there, everything was peaches and cream with no love lost for this hobby in sight. That is, until The X-Men went off the rails, Spider-Man drowned in clones, and I was set to leave for college.

But the stories from those dark times will have to wait until tomorrow. See you then!

My Own Secret Origin.

At the end of this week I turn 30 and I think that's crazy.

It seems like just yesterday I was a rambunctious college kid drinking too much, eating at all hours, and chasing after pretty girls. You know, living the life. Suddenly I find myself drinking only a sensible amount as to not feel terrible the next day, watching what I eat so my body won't revolt, and getting ready to marry the prettiest girl I know. It's a weird sensation, to say the least.

Turning 30 also marks another very significant personal anniversary: It's been 20 years since I was bitten by the comics bug. Personally, I think that's the craziest thing ever. Who would have thought this little habit that I picked up during the baseball strike of the 1990s would lead to a life long obsession? But here I am, 4000 books later, soaked in the minutia of various comic universes, with no sign of slowing down (much to the chagrin of the afore-implied FutureWife, I'm sure).

So, to mark these various occasions, I've decided to spend this week reminiscing about the seminal books in my collecting history. Today, we start with the book that put comics on the radar for me: Amazing Spider-Man #347.



I was in an airport when I discovered comics.

I remember it was February-ish 1990 and I was in Phoenix's Sky Harbor Airport, either waiting to board the plane to head back to Reno or just arriving, when that cover beckoned to me from the newsstand. "There's no way they killed Spider-Man," my nine year-old self thought, "...right?"

Entranced and enticed, I snatched the book from the stands and flipped through it, desperate to find the answer. As I cracked the cover, I was blown away by the images that were presented to me. Page after page of full on, knock-down, drag-out fighting on the beach between Spidey and some crazy Spider-Man monster welcomed and entertained me. It was amazing!



It didn't matter that I didn't know who any of the characters were or what they were fighting about, there was something about the energy of that book that infected my soul. I may not have known it at the time, but I was hooked.

Of course, this is the part of the story where I beg my mom for cash to buy this magical tome, but alas, it wasn't the case. As exciting as the book was, I already pretty much read it at the newsstand, so I opted for some other filler magazine instead. Dumb kid, I know. But even though I left the physical book behind, the images from it became burned on the inside of my brain. I knew I was missing out on something great.

As the years went by and I started collecting more seriously, I never quite could remember the issue number I saw that day. I'd do my due diligence through the long boxes, but for some reason never seemed to find this mythical issue. It was almost as if that issue only existed in my mind (this was before the internet, of course).

Flash forward to a few months ago, I finally tracked down a copy and decided it was worth the four dollar price tag. I won't lie, I was more than a little hesitant before I cracked those pages again. What I remembered about this issue was just shy of magical, how could reality possibly hold up to that?

Truth be told: Pretty fucking well!



In the twenty years between readings, the only thing that changed for me was that I knew all the backstories and if anything, got more enjoyment out of it. Coming out in that sweet spot between the creative highs of the 1980s and just before the mass artist exodus of the 1990s, David Michelinie and Erik Larsen were clearly firing on all cylinders with this done-in-one classic superhuman dustup. It's so good, that I quite honestly don't want to ruin anything here. Just take my word for it and track down a copy for yourself.



From the moment we departed the airport, my nine year-old knew he had made a mistake. I remember searching at the connecting airport, desperately searching for that same issue to no avail. Without it to guide me, there wasn't a very big reason to go actively searching for other books, so for the time being my comic buying habits remained nil. That is, until after the move, the installation of some new friends, and an unexpected Christmas bounty.

But that's a story that'll have to wait until tomorrow...

How I Learned To Not Be A Troll and Love Peter David.

"PAD sux."

Honest to God, that was my first post on the internet ever. Yes, I was that ornery 15-year old on your favorite newsgroup, trolling before trolling was trolling. And boy, did I get chewed out for it. Never again have I intentionally misspelled (unless it's for effect), not defended a position, or just flat out ignored punctuation since. I learned that lesson very quickly, but the PAD thing took a while longer.



PAD, Peter A. David for you n00bs, has been a prominent comic writer and fan-favorite for years. He's done highly regarded runs on The Incredible Hulk, Spider-Man, X-Factor (the 90s version), and X-Factor (the current version), while also tackling few novels in between. The man's a writing machine. But even with all the universal praise, to my 15-year old brain the man straight up sucked.

At the time, I didn't understand his witty banter, excellent puns, or exceedingly clever takes on any given character, all I knew is the man didn't want to play ball when it came to crossovers. Something that, as a young fanboy, I just couldn't comprehend.

From the rumors I hear, the beginning of his immense distaste for crossovers came from the end of his first run on X-Factor. It was during X-Cutioner's Song (my first big X-Crossover, by the by) that he was forced to write an issue that featured no members of the book, and instead focused on Wolverine, Cable, and Bishop.



It wasn't a terrible issue (well, all things considered), but it did kind of derail his own plots for the book. At the time I wasn't really aware it was a problem (Oh, those crazy pre-internet days...) and presently I'm aware how much that would suck, it was that time inbetween that really festered the hate in me. The thing I really couldn't get over: he dissed Onslaught.



Yeah, yeah, Onslaught's a joke now, but to my mid-90s, crazy X-Fan brain Onslaught was the culmination of years of storytelling. It was the definition of an epic - one that would have consequences that would really last, not just for the X-Universe, but the Marvel U at large - and demanded the be reflected in all of Marvel's books. To put it simply, PAD did not share my enthusiasm for the concept of an evil Professor X and his quest to take over the world.

His problem, from what I remember, was The Hulk's involvement in the fracas. For whatever reason, the higher-ups decided that The Hulk should not only be involved, but that he should be one of Onslaught's henchmen AND would ultimately be split into a monster half and a human half (with the human escaping into the... you know what, let's just leave it splitting). Needless to say, this is a huge change in the character and would severely derail any long term story lines that were already in place. So, as those who are slighted tend to do, PAD was quoted somewhere (probably in Wizard) voicing his dismay in how everything went down.




"How dare he not want to play ball with these large, universe-changing events!" I shouted to no one (I didn't have a lot of friends who read comics). "The Marvel Universe is shared, if something happens in one book, it should be reflected in another," I continued, "He needs to check his ego at the door and start doing what's good for the Marvel Universe as a whole!" Of course, without a physical outlet for this impotent adolescent rage, I took to the internet newsgroups and boiled down my grievance into two words: PAD sux.

Oh, how I was wrong.

After putting the habit down for a few years and returning, I discovered how much fun PAD's work can be. Sure, sometimes it can get a little overly cutesy and punny - like in the mostly fantastic Captain Marvel series from 2001 - but for the most part his stuff is insightful, funny, and overall just swell. I may not actively read any of his books anymore - even though his X-Factor is pretty damn amazing, not to mention the phenomenal stuff he's been doing with the Multiple Man - I've realized, in my maturing years, how refreshing his work can be.

And I wanted you all to know that.

It was a mistake that's been haunting me for years and I needed to set the record straight. To that point, I would like to formally revoke my first internet post and declare that PAD does indeed not 'sux'.

Phew. I feel better already.

Rob Liefeld's Jesus

Are you one of the people bothered by the massive plothole in The Bible? Have you spent years wondering how exactly Jesus came back to life after the crucifixion and where he went after he disappeared from that cave?

Well, hold on to your hats because those answers are coming... via Rob Liefeld.



No joke. Elaborating on versus from the book of Matthew, Old Man Liefeld is doing a webcomic of indeterminate length about what happened after Jesus died on the cross. Namely the legions of zombies that rose and attacked the Romans only to be saved by Lazarus and his mighty zombie-slaying sword.

You know, true Bible stories... 90s style!

I hope he does Sodom and Gomorrah next.

Celebrity Fan Letters

No no, not for this site. Oh heavens no. I don't think any celebrities read this site... or do they? Whatever, onwards.

One of my favorite things to do when I read older comics is to read the letters page. It's here that you see fandom hasn't changed at all from the 1960s. People complaining about DD's costume change (that's to the red, not to the armor), complaints about changing it to Invisible Woman (in the eighties no less! I was baffled), people complaining about all kinds of things that we, as a collective reader, don't see as big deals anymore. And sometimes these letters are written by people who went on to actually write the comics.

While I was reading X-Force #1 for my very first post, I came across a curious letter.

"It's amazing that a book about charaters whose philosophy I object to so
strongly could interest me so much!"

He goes on to muse about the secrets of Stryfe:

"As for Stryfe... I don't see how he could actually be Cable... Maybe Stryfe
is Cable's son"

Interesting theory. He goes on to talk about the upcoming cast and how he was surprised that Cannonball and Boom-Boom opted to stay:

"I was especially surprised that he [Cannonball] and Boom-Boom did nothing
when Cable cold-bloodedly killed Brute"

So who was this wordsmith, published by Marvel before he even dreamed of having a contract there? Read the letter for yourself:



It was Christos Gage, current writer on Avengers Initiative (soon to be Avengers Academy), the House of M spinoffs, among others. Pretty cool, right?

I thought so, but I always find it fascinating to get a glimpse of these full on stars, especially comic stars, before they made it.

I'll keep my eyes open for more! Let me know if you find them first!