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------------------------ Yahoo! Groups Sponsor --------------------~--> In low income neighborhoods, 84% do not own computers. At Network for Good, help bridge the Digital Divide! http://us.click.yahoo.com/S.QlOD/3MnJAA/Zx0JAA/bGIolB/TM --------------------------------------------------------------------~-> ----------------------------------------------------------------- [8] Lines On Paper Bruce Canwell bruce.canwell@verizon.net [Freelance writer Bruce Canwell is a New England native who has worked for both DC and Marvel Comics. His essays have appeared in TOMORROW SF, THE CORTLAND REVIEW, COMIC BOOK WEEK, the PORTSMOUTH (NH) PRESS, and AMAZING HEROES. In the summer he is often found at Fenway Park; in the winter, he enjoys playing high-stakes poker against really dumb opponents.] Installment 50: All Fall Down When death strikes in a comics story, it is swift and dramatic. Bucky Barnes, atomized as the drone plane explodes -- Captain Stacy, buried beneath all that rubble -- Kara Zor-El, gasping her final ragged breath cradled in Superman's arms. In real life, death sometimes occurs that way. Sometimes. More often, however, death is a process -- slow and inexorable, extracting a toll not just from its victim, but from all in its vicinity. # My father grew up in a rural New England town during the late- 1930s/early-40s. In his fourteenth year, he left his parents home to work on a privately owned dairy farm, sandwiching his school day between the morning and evening milkings. That was also the year he smoked his first cigarette. Tobacco was ubiquitous in the 1940s: it was cheap, it was heavily advertised, and Surgeon General warnings were still decades in the future. My father was not the first high school freshman of his era to light up; certainly he was not the last. But on the day he inhaled that first lungful of tar and nicotine, he signed his death warrant. # When I think of my father, the first word that comes to mind is "size." My father was a big guy: six-foot-three, 185 pounds during his twenties and early thirties, up to 225 or 230 by the time he reached his fifties. He grew up living off the land, served in the Army after high school, became an electrician at a major New England Naval shipyard once his tour of duty expired, then moved within the company to become a supervisor of technical writing. This was the life-path that created the avid hunter and fisherman, the capable Mr.-Fix-It I grew up knowing. When you're a little kid, it's an impressive thing to watch a Dad that big effortlessly net a twenty-eight inch salmon, or change spark plugs in the car, or bleed and dress the deer he shot during the last weekend of hunting season. It's even more impressive when you know you're unlikely to grow up able to do any of those things yourself -- because things came so easily to my father, he was not much of a teacher. My father smoked steadily throughout, coughing more and more violently as the years passed. When I was a teenager, I would see him outside: often he would stop walking, double over, rumble several violent coughs, then spit black phlegm before resuming his pace. Many persons told him to see a doctor; he brushed aside the notion. He knew what he would hear, and he did not want to hear it. # To this day, I have no idea what my father made of me while I was growing up. My brother inherited my father's love of things mechanical. A decade separating them, my two sisters grew up fishing on the wharf at our northern New England lakeside summer cottage. It was easy to see where and how my father connected with my siblings . . . but what, I have often wondered, did he think about the son who preferred reading a book to baiting a hook, who dreamed not of backwoods hamlets, but of cities teeming with activity? That was, is, and always will be a mystery. # Eventually my father had no choice: he visited a doctor. The result was as bad as expected: emphysema from cigarettes plus asbestos in his lungs, absorbed from his electrician days. Erosion of his lung capacity was ongoing -- the question was, how quickly did my father want to lose his ability to breathe? "Keep smoking," the doctor told him, "and you'll be dead before you're fifty." That day, at age thirty-eight and after nearly a quarter- century of puffing tobacco, my father quit smoking. # My father was a stubborn man: I believe pure cussedness kept him active long past the day when others would have folded their tents. Every April and every November, he would go to the lakeside place by himself to dip smelts in the springtime and hunt deer in the autumn. (During those trips, my mother stayed behind at the house in which I grew up, because the younger of my sisters was still in school.) In the summer months, my father cut wood for winter burning: he was most content when felling trees with his chain- saw or splitting wood with his axe. If there were changes as the years advanced -- if he was able to do less wood-cutting, if his smelting and hunting trips became increasingly short -- they were subtle enough so his children did not dwell on them for long. We were busy building our own lives, after all. # In January 1998, my mother and father sold their primary residence and bought a new home in Florida, near the older of my sisters. Returning to New England in mid-April, my parents went back to the lakeside cottage where they would continue to spend their summers. In May, on Mother's Day, my father went into the hospital. He emerged reliant on oxygen. August of that year marked my parents' 40th wedding anniversary. My siblings and I marked the event by joining them at the lakeside place. My "Huntress" story had been published in BATMAN CHRONICLES # 14 only days before; my comps had yet to arrive, forcing me to scramble at local comics shops in order to get copies to give to my relatives. The pleasure of having my second BATMAN-related story see print was tempered by the reality of my father's condition, which had deteriorated throughout the summer until he was restricted to his favorite chair, the rocker in the corner of the living room that gave two different views of the lake. A trip to the bathroom and back was a trial for him, keeping focus when a conversation involved three or more persons a challenge. That Sunday morning, my siblings and their families decided to visit one of the mountainous recreation spots in the area; I stayed behind and played cribbage with my father. "You could'a gone with them, y'know," he said at one point. "I'm not much for the whole mountain/hiking thing," I said with a shrug. I'm sure he looked at me and saw the kid who was immersed in funnybooks and had no trouble believing that. # My parents struggled through that last summer, isolated at the lake, 14 miles from the nearest town. My father was determined to stay there until the week after Labor Day (he really WAS a stubborn man.). That's when my mother drove him 150 miles south to the town where I grew up, to keep a long-standing appointment with his original respiratory doctor, the specialist who had treated him for over two decades. My mother later told me that, as she started the car and they began to drive away, my father looked back at the summer cottage he loved more than any other spot on Earth. "I think this is the last time I'll see the old place," he said. And of course, he was right. # Immediately after the appointment, the doctor admitted my father into the hospital for special respiratory treatments and twice- daily physical therapy. Often from his hospital bed my father told me, "Y'do what y'gotta do." What he had to do, he reasoned, was regain his strength so he and my mother could return to their new Florida home in November. There was some concern among my siblings and I that this plan was unrealistic. From her Florida home, the older of my sisters spoke to the doctor and came away encouraged. My mother expressed doubts only rarely. I was struggling too hard at that time to question the situation beyond its surface level. I was surviving on approximately three hours of sleep each weeknight from September through mid-October, thanks to my full-time job and my writing responsibilities. On Friday nights I drove across state lines, traveling more than two hours to visit my father in the hospital. I would see him again on Saturdays and Sunday mornings, then return home late Sunday afternoon and write until at least midnight. The cycle started all over again with Monday's sunrise. If my father said he was going to get well and winter in Florida, a lifetime of experience had taught me not to bet against him. And I needed to put a significant portion of my attention elsewhere: storm clouds were brewing at Marvel. # Installment # 49 of this series chronicled the hurdles and slow- downs artist Lee Weeks, editor Joe Andreani, and I experienced while striving to put new NICK FURY material on the schedule at Marvel. No sooner had the FURY projects come under control than Marvel editor Tim Tuohy informed me there were internal rumblings about the DEATHLOK series he and I were launching with artists Sal Velluto and Bob Almond. Marvel's editorial structure was especially chaotic at the end of Bob Harras's tenure as Editor-In-Chief: there were editors in the office whose names never appeared in the credits of the comics (like the "Editorial Director" who vetoed my original FURY miniseries proposal after Harras had approved it). Now, according to Tuohy, one of those "hidden" editors had hatched his own idea for a DEATHLOK series, one in which SHIELD Agent 18 -- a supporting player in the then-ongoing CABLE series -- would be installed as Deathlok's human component. This led other editors in the Marvel offices to re-think the entire "Heavy Metal May" start-up of four separate new series. Suddenly there was a faction determined to make all the new series interconnect, to tie them into a planned FORGE mini-series (thus tethering them to X-MEN continuity), to change the name of the launch from "Heavy Metal May" to "M-Tech." As stated in Installments # 46-47, Tim Tuohy was always totally open and honest in his dealings with me; he did not change his approach during this time. I have notes from my discussions with Tim about the editorial faction proposing a group concept called "Mannites," which would not only immediately be granted a series of their own, but would also be woven into the concepts of other "M-Tech" books. Agent 18 would be fed into the Deathlok body specifically to hunt the Mannites. "It sounds like the M-Tech books are planned to launch before any 'Mannites' book," my notes from 10/06/98 say. "Maybe .... FORGE [is] a weekly 4-issue mini-series focusing on the quest for .... the Mannites. Meanwhile, the M-Tech books would .... kick off, tangentally affected by what's going on in FORGE. "What's the 'hook' behind each title? Taglines being kicked around: "X-51: The Soul of The Machine "DEATHLOK: The Killing Machine "BETA RAY BILL: The God in The Machine "SPACEKNIGHTS (working title): The Brotherhood of The Machine" This concept sounded as lame to me as it did to Tim. Tuohy's frustrations were high: Marvel had already approved and scheduled the DEATHLOK series my team had put forth -- they had made cash outlays to Sal, Bob, and me for our development work and the 5- page "series preview" we had created -- but new ownership put Marvel in flux, every new project was suddenly at risk, and some editors realized that where there is risk, there is also a chance for reward. They moved to engineer a major "event" so they could reap the rewards from its success . . . and if they had to hijack a character another editor already had deep in development, they were OK with that. Tim fought to preserve our concept for DEATHLOK, and to keep our series debut on track. I offered to make a trip to the Marvel offices to help him campaign; he felt this was a matter the editorial staff had to resolve on their own. He did give a thumbs-up to another of my suggestions: I had a hundred copies of our DEATHLOK 5-page preview copied, then distributed them to my friends in the retail community. Each contained a letter giving the Marvel address and asking readers to write and say they wanted to see more Canwell/Velluto/Almond DEATHLOK. Tim reported this campaign did indeed generate a handful of letters. # Even as the foundations for DEATHLOK shifted uncomfortably beneath our feet, I was busy scripting the first batch of artwork for the NICK FURY 12-pager Lee Weeks and I were producing for Joe Andreani's SHADOWS & LIGHT anthology. My father never understood my love of comics, in my youth, he would occasionally pick up one and mock it as he thumbed through its pages; BATMAN: THE GAUNTLET had passed without any sort of comment on his part. FURY, I felt, might be different. No long-underwear costumes, no gimmicky powers, no righteous moral credos -- just a guy who beats the odds using his brains, muscle, stubbornness, and ingenuity. If a comics character could be my father's kind of guy, Nick Fury was that character. I desperately wanted to finish the story before it was too late. FURY, I hoped, might cause my father to admit that maybe I hadn't wasted all those childhood hours reading comics. # I had just received stats of Lee's pencil roughs for the last batch of FURY pages when I got the news my father was in a very bad way. My older sister flew north from Florida. I packed the FURY material and my comics-writing notebook before driving up to the hospital, where my mother, my brother, and his family had already gathered. It quickly became clear my younger sister needed to be present as well, so I placed a call to Massachusetts; she and her fiance joined us a few hours later. "Don't cry for me," my father told his daughters when he saw tears in their eyes. "I made my mistakes a long time ago." # That night the women and children went to stay at a hotel; my mother, brother, and I remained with my father. Only once was he not lucid -- he had been dozing, but woke up around 1:00 AM and thought he was working on some fix-up project around the house. He told us what we needed to do and tried to get out of bed, but we held him down. "I can't get my breath," he said once, twice. The third time he said it, he added, "This is all the breath I'm going to get, isn't it?" And that realization brought him back to reality, where he stayed for the rest of that night. My brother and mother napped as the night unfolded; I stayed awake at my father's bedside the entire night, even when he himself was dozing. I had things I wanted to say to him and I didn't know what they were and I was sure he wouldn't want to hear them, even if I somehow found the words. At 8:40 the next morning, I had my final conversation with my father. "I'm going over to the hotel to pick up the girls," I told him. He nodded. "We'll be back in about three-quarters of an hour." "Yeah," he gasped out, nodding again. By the time we returned, he had slipped into a coma. At 10:35PM on Friday October 23rd, 1998, my father died at age 62. # Saturday morning the process of notifying relatives and friends began. My brother and I split those duties. I worked alone, using the phone in the back bedroom of my brother's house. After a half-dozen calls, I needed a break from delivering such bleak news over and over again; I called my home to pick up any phone messages recorded while I was away. I found a Friday evening message from Bob Almond saying, "There were editorial firings at Marvel today. No one knows for sure who or how many. We're trying to get the details, and as soon as we hear anything, I'll let you know." I opened my comics-writing notebook to the page containing contact information, then I paused. I understood how my father must have felt years ago, when others told him to go see a doctor: I knew what I would hear, and I did not want to hear it. Still, what choice did I have? I dialed Joe Andreani's office number at Marvel, got his standard voice mail greeting, hung up without leaving a message. Next I dialed and listened to my other editor's greeting. "Hi, this is Tim Tuohy, and I USED to work at Marvel Comics . . ." I leaned forward, resting my forehead against the wall as I hung up the phone. In a phone conversation early the next week, Lee Weeks confirmed what I knew at that moment: Andreani was gone, Tuohy was gone. More than my father had died on October 23rd, 1998. Even with that realization hitting me like a physical blow, I had to push it aside the situation at Marvel and deal with the immediate tasks at hand. I had to make more calls to family and friends, then I had writing work to be done. I had to write my father's eulogy. # The funeral was Tuesday, October 27th, 1998. My mother decided on a closed-casket ceremony, but the family arrived early in order to see my father one last time before the funeral directors shut the coffin. I arrived with a sheaf of papers in hand; I had one last gift for my father. I placed the unfinished FURY story into his coffin: copies of the 12 pages of Lee Weeks's art, of my plot and the partial script I had written. We are not a religious family: none of us is wagering on any sort of afterlife. "If Dad DOES have some sort of journey ahead," I told my siblings, trying to inject a bit of levity into my actions, "he might want something to read along the way." I never told them the other, more important aspect of that line of reasoning. If there truly is an afterlife, the time may come when I see my father once again. Should that happen, I'm hoping he'll say to me, "Now, that NICK FURY thing -- that one, I liked." _________________________________________________________________ ----------------------------------------------------------------- [9] Suspended Animation Michael Vance & Mark Allen MiklVance2@worldnet.att.net http://www.starland.com/sus [Michael Vance, a professional writer since 1977 and has been published in dozens of magazines including Starlog and Jack and Jill, and as a syndicated columnist and cartoonist in over 500 newspapers. His history book, Forbidden Adventure: The History of the American Comics Group, has been called a "benchmark in comics history". He ghosted an internationally syndicated comic strip, and his wrote own strip, Holiday Out, that was reprinted as a comic book. Vance also wrote the comic books Straw Men, Angel of Death, The Adventures of Captain Nemo, and Bloodtide. He is listed in the Who's Who of American Comic Books and Comic Book Superstars. His short stories have appeared in dozens of magazines and recorded by actor William (Murder She Wrote) Windom. Suspended Animation, has been published for more than sixteen years, and Vance worked in newspapers for 22 years as an editor, writer and advertising manager. Mark Allen lives in Western Oklahoma with his wife and daughter. He has been a Baptist minister for over 15 years, and has also written for the Oklahoma news industry. Having indulged in comics for nearly 30 years, Mark now enjoys using the written word to share with others what he believes is a true, and extremely under-acknowledged, art form.] Jokester Magazine #1/$2.99 & 48 pgs, Tool/Thwak/Jokester Pub./ various writers and artists/ available at comics shops & www.jokestermag.com Humor is in the eye and ear of the beholder (unless you are deaf and blind; he, he) There are a few handicapped cartoonists in Jokester, a new yuk sheet in the tradition of Mad and Cracked magazines. Let's get them out of the way. I don't like jokes about bodily functions like flatulation. Why? They aren't funny. Now to the funny stuff, and there is lots of it in Jokester which is a collection of single panel cartoons, comic strips, one page and multi-page pieces, and advertising parodies. My "best of..." list includes Randy Glasbergen's single panel cartoons filled with cucumber-nosed men and women who actually made me laugh inside. As example: A father says to his son: "At your age, Tommy, a boy's body goes through changes that are not always easy to understand." His son does not respond. How could he with a hand growing out of his mouth? Also on that list would be the art of Bruce Bolinger. His manic style transforms even bland material into something fun. His piece on "Jobbies"--jobs merged with hobbies--has a nasty kick to it that is the hallmark of solid social satire. As example: A dentist fishes in the mouth of his patient. The caption reads: Why wait until the weekend and have to wake up at dawn to enjoy your favorite hobby? Just think of all the time you'll save hooking wide-mouths in the comfort of your very own office! Jokester is recommended for those who can't get mad or cracked enough to kick the ha-ha habit. MV MINIVIEW: The Pin-Up Art of Dan DeCarlo [Fantagraphics} Imagine the girls from Archie Comics mostly undressed. Before and while DeCarlo drew Betty and Veronica, he drew nice but naughty girls in single-panel cartoons for humor digests in the '50s and '60s. Recommended with reservations. For information on Vance's short stories, comic books, and available work, query MiklVance@Yahoo.com. _________________________________________________________________ ----------------------------------------------------------------- [10] ComiX-Fan Reviews Eric J. Moreels x-fan@bigpond.net.au http://www.comixfan.com/xfan [Editor's note: Some of the following reviews have spoilers to plot details. This is a TEXT ONLY newsletter so those spoilers are not hidden by HTML code as they are on the ComiX-fan site.] NEW X-MEN #13 Reviewer: Michael Clarke, micha3lc@gmail.com Story Title: "Into The Light" Northstar fondly remembered. Writers: Nunzio Defilippis and Christina Weir Penciller: Michael Ryan Inker: Rick Ketchum Letterer: Dave Sharpe Colorist: Pete Pantazis Assistant Editor: Nick Lowe Editor: Mike Marts Editor In Chief: Joe Quesada President: Dan Buckley Publisher: Marvel Comics New X-Men is a strange book, not because of its quality, which is always high but because, in my opinion, it should be regarded as one of the core X-Men titles, with the focus on the school, the heart of modern X-Men stories, but instead this title has got declining sales, and I cannot see why, especially looking at this issue as an example. This issue contains somewhat of a belated tribute to Northstar, who was killed in Wolverine #25 a couple of months ago and it seems to be a particularly fitting place for a tribute as Northstar's main role of late was that of a teacher. This issue also serves to introduce Northstar's eagerly awaited squad, Alpha Squadron and I think that the scenes with these kids are particularly successful, as I think that they convey what the children must be going through having learned about the death of their mentor. The seeming introduction of Victor as a gay student in the institute is interesting, and fills a vacuum left in the Marvel Universe left by the death of Northstar. I cannot help but think, though, that this storyline would have been more successful should Northstar still be alive. I think that one of the problems with this issue is the step backwards the New Mutants squad seems to have taken, with Josh becoming the outsider once again, and I don't think that this is a good idea as this issue had already been dealt with in the New Mutants series but, for the moment, I want to give the writers the benefit of the doubt and I am looking forward to seeing where this is going. One of the biggest strengths of this issue, I think is the portrayal of Northstar as a hero, without focusing on his personal life and using stereotypes and I think that this is one of the reasons why the final scene with the unveiling of the statue seems to work so well, as the words spoken by the cast, particularly Dani's final piece, are moving and a poignant reflection on Northstar's life. While this series has had 5 artists so far and keeping one seems to be a problem, I think that my favourite art is Michael Ryan's, especially the art shown in this issue, as it is attractive and dynamic, and yet has something about it that makes it suitable for both action scenes and talking scenes, both of which Ryan handles with ease. I particularly like his renditions of Elektra and Captain America. Overall, I think that this issue is without a doubt the strongest of the series so far, and is a fantastic send-off for Northstar although it does not look like we have quite seen the last of him. If you want to read real quality, pick up this book. ART: 4.5 STORY: 4.5 OVERALL: 4.5 Thanks for subscribing to the Comic Book Network Electronic Magazine (CBEM) --------------------------->Disclaimer<--------------------------- This is an ANNOUNCE only mailing list, only the Editor can send messages to the list. No one else has access to the subscriber list. Replies to these messages will be received by the Editor ONLY, so you must CC: individual contributors if you want them to get your E-Mail. The E-mail to the E-mag MAY be used in future issues at the Editor's discretion UNLESS you specifically request that they not be. It is our policy to withhold names and/or Addresses, by request only, from letters of comment. All contributors are required to use their real name and have a valid Email address for their columns to be published. Send Email comments to: ComicBkNet@aol.com Material for inclusion in the Emag - press releases, solicitations, column submissions, Letters to the Editor, guesses for the trivia contest should be sent to ComicBkNet@aol.com The EDITOR, not the submitter, has final approval and edit rights on ALL material. Printed comic books and advanced copies for review in the Emag should be sent via US Mail or UPS to David L. LeBlanc 84 Heather Circle Jefferson, MA 01522-1419 TO Subscribe send a message FROM the intended address to: ComicBookNetworkEmag-subscribe@yahoogroups.com TO Unsubscribe send a message FROM the address to be dropped to: ComicBookNetworkEmag-unsubscribe@yahoogroups.com You may also unsubscribe from the Egroups Web page at the short cut below. Shortcut URL to the Egroup page: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/ComicBookNetworkEmag All contents COPYRIGHT 2005 The Comic Book Network. This messages may be reproduced only in its original form, and in its entirety for non-commercial purposes. Contact the original author(s) or the Editor for permission to use individual items. Yahoo! Groups Links <*> To visit your group on the web, go to: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/ComicBookNetworkEmag/ <*> To unsubscribe from this group, send an email to: ComicBookNetworkEmag-unsubscribe@yahoogroups.com <*> Your use of Yahoo! Groups is subject to: http://docs.yahoo.com/info/terms/ |
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