Indy Comics Writer

The original Spider-Man movie, directed by Sam Raimi, was on TV earlier this weekend. My son and I watched it again. And, again, I had the same reaction: This is fun. But it could have been better.

In fact, that’s the same reaction I’ve had every time I’ve seen any of Raimi’s three Spider-Man movies.

The problem, I think, is that I’m always comparing the films to the pages of my favorite mainstream comic, Ultimate Spider-Man.

If you’re not familiar with Marvel’s Ultimate line, it’s basically a re-telling of some of the company’s brightest titles. In addition to Spider-Man, there are Ultimate versions of the Avengers, Fantastic Four and X-Men. Ultimate Spider-Man, though, is the best of the lot.

The comic is far superior to the Sam Raimi movies, too. In Ultimate Spider-Man — written by Brian Michael Bendis — we are introduced to a young Spider-Man who’s smart, funny and likable. The Spider-Man in Raimi’s movie, by contract, remains a doofus even through the third movie. The Peter Parker in the third Spider-Man movie was a complete bumbling fool. In Bendis’ comic, he’s a kind, witty, thoughtful teen, trying to balance high school, a romance with Mary Jane Watson and crime-fighting.

It doesn’t always work. Which is refreshing to see.

In Ultimate Spider-Man, the supporting characters shine. Flash Thompson, Aunt May, Gwen Stacey, Curt Connors and, especially, Nick Fury, all have terrific moments. In the movies, characters like Flash Thompson, Gwen Stacey and even Aunt May have been largely forgettable.

And the villains in the comic far outclass the ones in the movies. The Green Goblin on the pages of Ultimate Spider-Man is crafty, scheming and truly monstrous. The Doctor Octopus kills without a shred of regret. Venom is a mixture of vicious animal and flawed man. The Sandman is almost an unstoppable force of nature.

Finally, Ultimate Spider-Man blows away the movies as far as humor goes. Peter Parker is funny, both as himself and Spider-Man. In the movies, his wit is mostly hidden.

Yes, the movies aren’t bad when compared to many other superhero films. But when you compare them to Bendis’ work, they suffer greatly.

Spy vs. Spy has been a regular feature in Mad magazine since 1961. Hard to believe, but that white-coated spy has been trying to kill that black-coated spy (and vice-versa) for more than 45 years. That’s an awful lot of bombs, daggers, poisoned darts and machine-gun fire.

Spy vs. Spy, in its own silly way, is what we all aspire to as novice comics writers: We all want to create something that will last, that people will still read decades after we write it. Antonio Prohias, the creator of Spy vs. Spy, has done just that.

I bring this strip up, because my 9-year-old son recently discovered the simple joys of it in a bound edition at our local public library. He gobbled up the entire book in one evening, taking breaks only to laugh.

The strip inspired him enough so that he has been writing his own comic: Kid vs. Kid. I admit, it is a bit derivative. But it’s also inspiring to watch my son draw his own paneled comics. It’s a real kick.

I know it provided some inspiration for me to keep on experimenting with new characters, stories and adventures in my own comics scripts. Maybe some day, 45-plus years in the future, some kid will try to duplicate my comics on his blank sheets of paper.

I always hate opening my newspaper on major holidays and seeing the artists on the comics page cheat. You know what I mean: Garfield and Odie will be sitting in front of turkey dinner and grinning back at the reader. Above them, a banner will say “Happy Thanksgiving.”

And that’ll be it. Not exactly a cartoonist flexing his creative muscles.

So I vowed to never do the equivalent with any of my blogs. (I don’t want to compare myself to Jim Davis, the creator of Garfield. I don’t think we have quite the same number of regular readers.)

Today, I shall break that vow. Why not? Why resist the urge to be thankful on Thanksgiving?

So here’s what I’m thankful for today. I’m thankful that I have a wonderful wife and two wonderful sons. I’m thankful that my wife supports me in all that I do (within reason!) and that our 9-year-old son is a sweet little guy with loads of imagination and creativity to spare. I’m thankful that our 14-month-old son has given our household a shot of energy this year. You see, we adopted this guy from Ethiopia. He’s turned our home upside down, in a good, good way.

I’m thankful that I’m able to make a living as a writer, even if I don’t always get to write what I want to. And I’m thankful that my first published comics — the four-issue mini-series GEARZ, pick it up today from Bluewater Publishing — hit the shelves this year. They even received some nice reviews from online comics sites. (There were a few reviews that weren’t so nice, too, but I’m not all that thankful for them.) I’m glad, too, that Bluewater will be publishing three more of my comics mini-series in 2009, and that six different publishers bought either my short fiction or short comics scripts this year. Hey, I even received a check today from one of the anthologies. You can’t help but be thankful for that.

Of course, 2008 has had its share of challenges, too. The rough economy has forced me to write more non-fiction stories than ever just to tread water with my monthly income. The publisher where I work as a full-time, part-time editor has struggled to fill its pages with ads. We lost a dear family friend to cancer recently. And my wife suffered a rather serious leg injury — though she’s A-OK now.

On the whole, though, there’s much to be thankful for. Heck, if all that we accomplished in 2008 would have been completing the lengthy, frustrating and incredibly expensive process of adopting our youngest son, the year would have been a great one.

I’m extremely proud of my 9-year-old son. We had parent-teacher conferences yesterday, and our son’s fourth-grade teacher told us that he’s not only a “delight in the classroom” and very “well-liked by everyone,” but that he’s also reading far above his grade level.

(Forgive my brag. But what do you want? If I can’t brag about my son here, where can I brag about him?)

My wife and I will take some of the credit for my son’s reading skills. We read to him from the day he was born. And we’ve encouraged him to read on his own.

And now I’m turning him into a fan of comics. The comics industry doesn’t have enough young readers anymore. Any new one helps.

My son’s newest favorite comic is Knights of the Lunch Table by author and cartoonist Frank Cammuso. The story takes the famous King Arthur legend and transports it to an ordinary high school. For instance, the main character is the only one able to open a mysterious locker, even though everyone knows the combination.

I’m constantly on the lookout for graphic novels like this for my son. Fortunately, there are a lot of good options to choose from. My goal to build a young comics fan is easily attainable.

Some books are destined to cause arguments. Gene Kannenberg, Jr.’s 500 Essential Graphic Novels, published by Collins Design, is such a book.

To try categorizing the best graphic novels in a single book? That’s a hefty challenge.

Kannenberg, who has earned a doctorate degree in comics(!) from the University of Connecticut, is up to the challenge. Of course, I don’t agree with all of his choices. But I do agree with most of them. And I’m especially pleased that he included several of my favorite graphic novels.

He includes, for instance, Stuck Rubber Baby, by Howard Cruse. This amazing tale covers the Civil Rights movement, racism and the coming-of-age of a young homosexual narrator in the U.S. deep South. Kannenberg also includes Ghost World by Dan Clowes, the source behind the critically acclaimed movie of the same title.

There are a few titles Kannenberg throws in that I can’t quite understand. For instance, he includes the X-Men’s Dark Phoenix Saga. Really? I just thought that whole mess was confusing.

Search out this book if you have the chance. It’s great not only for starting arguments, but for finding those great graphic novels you might have missed. Ever read The Steel Claw: The Vanishing Man by writer Ken Bulmer and artist Jesus Blasco? Didn’t think so. Well, it’s in Kannenberg’s book.

It’s time for another brag post. Like I always say, if I can’t brag on my own blog, where else can I?

I found out last week, that the editors at Firefox.org, a site devoted to comics, movies and fiction (and not, of course, the wonderful Firefox Web browser), have purchased my short story “The Greatest Supervillain in the World.”

This prose story is a sequel to my story “The Greatest Superhero in the World,” originally published more than a year ago on the same site.

The story continues the exploits of Infra-Red, a reluctant superhero, and a character of which I’ve grown quite fond. He’s a superhero who doesn’t like to fight and, especially, doesn’t like it when super-powered robots, monsters and aliens hit back.

It’s always a nice ego boost when an editor likes a story — whether it be in prose or comic form — enough to buy it. I’m still getting started in the world of fiction and comics writing. Every little success feels great. Now, if I could just string together a few more of those successes, I’ll be flying very high!

If you live in the Chicago area, you probably know Svengoolie. He hosts his own creature-feature type show Saturday nights on a local station here. Sometimes he’ll show classics such as Bride of Frankenstein or The Black Cat. Other times he shows movies that are classically bad, films like The Car or Son of Godzilla.

Last week, Svengoolie showed Swamp Thing, the 1982 movie version of DC comics’ sorta’ popular character. I watched the movie with my older son, and it brought back memories of the days when comic book movies boasted cheesy special effects, low budgets, terrible acting and lots and lots of boring science talk.

I think we’re a bit spoiled these days. Even Spider-Man 3, considered a disappointment last summer, looks like high art compared to films such as Swamp Thing.

If you get a chance to rent this movie, do it. It’s worth it for the terrible acting and the God-awful effects. The villain’s transformation into a wolf-like creature is especially jaw-dropping in its ineptitude.

Apparently, though, there is a bit of a cult following that has built up among the film. And it did well enough to warrant a sequel, The Return of Swamp Thing in 1989. But watching it today is painful. It’s hard enough to watch the original Superman with Christopher Reeve, a film many consider a classic but which I consider immensely dull. It, though, looks like Citizen Kane compared to Swamp Thing.

Today is a tough one. I’m staring at the script I’m supposed to turn in next week and I’m not liking what I see. It’s for a one shot story, a crossover sequel to two of the publisher’s existing series. I’m grateful for the job, and for the chance to get my name on the shelves of comic-book shops across the country again.

Problem is, I don’t feel like writing a word. And describing the action in a panel? Seems like a monumental task right now.

So, do I give up? Nope. These are the kind of days when you really have to force yourself to be a writer.

I try to keep to a strict schedule when I’m writing. I have to, because the majority of my income comes from writing non-fiction stories for newspapers and magazines. If I don’t schedule in time for my fiction writing, I’d never get to it. There are days, though, when I’m tired, cranky or just feeling lazy, when I don’t want to even think about fiction writing.

Thing is, even though it seems like I won’t be able to force out a single word, I find that if I do, if I do force myself to start hitting the keyboard, that not only can I write that single word, I can write a whole lot more, too. Funny thing, once I get going, the rhythm of writing takes over. The sentences turn into paragraphs and the paragraphs turn into complete pages. Before I know it, I’ve made a serious dent in whatever project I’m stalling on tackling.

The same thing probably happens to you. I know I’m certainly not unique. People who don’t write always tell me how lucky I am to do something I love. It’s true, I am lucky. There are many, many worse jobs out there. In fact, I’d bet that most jobs are worse than writing. But, that doesn’t mean it doesn’t feel like work 70 percent of the time.

But when it does feel like work? That’s when you have to sit down, put your fingers on that keyboard and get to work. What you write might end up being crap. But it’s just as likely to turn into treasure.

I often buy my son copies of Ultimate Spider-Man. I’m a fan of Brian Michael Bendis, and I think his work on Spider-Man is about the best that mainstream comics offers.

This week I picked up the comic’s third special annual issue. It was a good read. Bendis introduces the Ultimate version of Mysterio, and this villain would beat the tar out of the original, mainstream universe one. For one thing, this Mysterio doesn’t wear a goldfish bowl on his head.

But I haven’t yet given it to my son. And it’s not because of the violence. It’s because a major subplot of the book involves Peter and Mary Jane possibly going “all the way.”

Maybe it’s because I don’t want my son asking me what “going all the way” means. Maybe I’m too chicken to have the sex talk yet. My son is just 10. Isn’t that too early? Maybe it’s not. But regardless, the comic is still sitting on my desk.

Sigh, maybe it’s a sign that I should stick with the Marvel Adventures series of books for my son. They are always harmless. But, and this is a big “but,” they’re just not as good as Ultimate Spider-Man.

I’ve long heard from comics publishers that too many creators have an extremely narrow view of what comics can be. Too many new writers, especially, focus on the superhero crowd at the expense of everything else.

That’ unfortunate, because the comics form can encompass so much. For example, in my local public library I found a graphic novel from Sterling Publishing and adapting Franz Kafka’s famous story, The Trial, in graphic form. The graphic novel, which you can read more about here, is an interesting read. The black-and-white artwork by illustrator Chantal Montellier does a great job of infusing the story with a mood of paranoia, a mood that Kafka’s stories so often depended on.

This graphic novel can serve a number of important functions. First, it can introduce a whole new generation of readers to Kafka, readers who might not otherwise have picked up one of his works. Secondly, it can help prove to creators, and readers, that the graphic format isn’t just for superheroes. It’s for serious literature, too.

The Trial is far from the only graphic version of serious literature out there. Search your library shelves or your bookstores for them. They might make a nice change from the adventures of all those muscle-bound showoffs.