Vertigo a go-go!

The writing is on the wall in regards to Vertigo. Thankfully, the message written is a positive one. With the promotion of Shelly Bond to executive editor, it appears evident that DC plans to pursue the same avant-garde material it had been known for publishing during the reign of Karen Berger. However, with the promotion of Hank Kanalz—known for his work at Wildstorm, an imprint that dealt heavily with movie and film tie-ins—it is also clear that creating commercial successes is also a key factor. Vertigo will likely become a R&D farm for cult classics, creating comics that in time will mature into a strong backlist of graphic novels to be cherished for decades. The strength of the Vertigo brand will hopefully also improve DC’s reputation in regards to creative freedom. In layman’s terms, Vertigo will be expected to create an army of Watchmen and a legion of Scott Snyders to hold down the fort.

In the future, how can Vertigo cater to demands for commercial success while continuing to create quality material that veers off the beaten path? Perhaps a Frankenstein’s monster of an imprint is in order, merging parts of Vertigo, Wildstorm, and Milestone to create a new imprint that usurps the dominion of all three.

Like Wildstorm, Vertigo should aggressively pursue cult classics in film, television, and video games in order to create tie-in works. It is important to seek works that have made an impact in American culture: the Grand Theft Auto series; Django Unchained, etc. However, I think it is important that the imprint bring something new to the table in order to create a lasting desire for its graphic novels. New stories must be told. For example, the adaptation of Django Unchained was a fabulous idea, but it is odd to me that no editor at Vertigo made an attempt to also produce a graphic novel featuring all-new material set in the Django universe. Imagine an anthology featuring Priest, Hama, Vachss, Hudlin, Miller, etc. With the inclusion of an introduction by Tarantino its status as a backlist tent pole would likely be a given. Why was an editor not assigned the task of sweet-talking Tarantino in order to bring such a work to fruition?

The list of creators I compiled featured individuals from a variety of ethnic and racial backgrounds. It is an arena in which Vertigo can take its cue from Milestone. Not limited to the narrow selection of mainly white male creators adored by mainstream fans, Vertigo can—like Milestone—reach out to underrepresented groups in the industry and provide them with a voice. Milestone was always labeled as a black imprint providing black books to black readers. While there is nothing wrong with said goal, it is not what Milestone was about. Milestone was multi-ethnic in all forms: creators, characters, and consumer base. Vertigo should be as well. Vertigo should be an imprint that reaches out to groups that mainstream DC has been unable to grasp. Imagine a miniseries penned by Junot Diaz and drawn by Ming Doyle, or a Scandal one-shot written by Shonda Rhimes and drawn by Amanda Conner. I’ve listed popular writers from other fields because I feel that it is the best way to add diversity to the talent pool while maintaining or improving the quality of work submitted. Look at Marvel’s success with Marjorie Liu. Vertigo must replicate it.

Finally, Vertigo must maintain the status quo in regards to the creative freedom offered to its talent. It must find a way to wrest its title back from Image as a place where an artist is provided free rein to share his vision. Perhaps it can also become an arena where a creator is able to maintain some semblance of control over her creation; this will be important if the imprint wishes to foster good will and lure creators away from independent companies.


Foursquare.

Hey, remember when you asked me to give you my thoughts on the basic construction of the Marvel and DC universes? Oh, that never happened? Well, too bad. You’re getting my breakdowns anyway.

The Marvel universe doesn’t take much time to explain. It’s a beautiful mosaic. And though the irregular, jagged pieces of history do pull together to make an interesting and comprehensible whole when one steps back and views the full line in its entirety, the majority of a reader’s fun is derived from zooming in to follow intricate curves and plot twists. The joy is found in the messiness of it—the dangling plot threads, lost trails, and minutiae. I can see why Marvel’s editorial staff is so wary of a reboot given how readers read Marvel comics. The focus is placed upon relationships—how characters interact given their history. Should you remove the history, what is left? I suppose that is why the Marvel staff has opted for a careful simplification of Marvel history rather than tossing decades of carefully constructed relationships into the dustbin. While new readers will be able to “jump on,” older readers will not feel slighted by drastic changes.

DC, however, was able to weather its recent relaunch due to the fact that DC generally deals in archetypes. Moreover, its universe is not a mosaic, but a simple square and two strings. Sounds dull, no? Surprisingly, it makes for a universe equally as interesting as Marvel’s. Allow me to explain.

The DCU's square

Again, two strings. Two tug-of-wars between four houses—justice versus injustice and order versus chaos—it’s as simple as that. The excitement comes from watching the knot in the center, the symbol for power and control in the DC universe, veer uncontrollably from side to side as strategic moves are made by different players in each kingdom or house.

Justice

  • Batman (king)
  • Wonder Woman (queen)
  • Superman (knight)

Injustice

  • Lex Luthor (king)
  • Gorgeous (queen)
  • Catwoman (knight)

Order

  • Steve Trevor (king)
  • Amanda Waller (queen)

Chaos

  • The Joker (knight)

The brief list I’ve provided above is woefully incomplete due to the fact that I do not believe all of the major players are currently on the stage. After all, it has merely been a year. Also, the roles of king and queen are not assigned via one’s romantic relationship, but according to tactical value and importance. Note that injustice and order, defined by commerce and government, are decidedly human. Justice and chaos, defined by heroes, villains, aliens, and gods—or in more generic terms, science and religion—are predominately otherworldly. For those wondering who Gorgeous is, she is an old Stormwatch: PHD character I feel would be a solid addition to the DC universe given her skill set and personality.

There are other minor details to take into account. Chaos and order are neither good nor evil. What brings order does not always bring justice; a chaotic individual may actually wish to improve the lives of others with his or her actions. Romances, friendships, and family ties that cross houses also muddy the waters considerably (ex: Bruce and Selina, Steve and Diana, Lex and Amanda).

The simplicity of the DC design makes things rather difficult for the DC staff. Constant communication between creative teams is required. This can result in a endless barrage of email.

Anyway, this is what I think about while waiting for my food to cook, folks. Hence, I am a pretty boring date.


The illustrated interview.

I had a series of tweets about this idea months ago, but I’m not sure if I’ve blogged about it until now. I’m hoping that a comics publisher will pick up the ball and run with it.

I’d love to have an illustrated graphic novel containing interviews with some of the comic industry’s most illustrious personalities. Allow me to explain. Each section of the graphic novel would feature a short interview with a famous creator. The interview would then be set into a script, as if the creator and the interviewer are simply two characters in a comic, and illustrated. All interviews would appear to take place in the actual comics the creators worked on: Neil Gaiman would observe Morpheus’ funeral as he discussed how he created the Endless; Stan Lee would watch a brawl between Spider-Man and the Green Goblin from the Brooklyn Bridge.

The work could be a yearly series as more creators agreed to interviews. Just a thought.


To the max.

I would love for DC Comics to launch a very small line (five titles maximum) for mature readers. No, I don’t feel that the “Edge” or “Dark” lines are suitable for older readers seeking adult themes. I would like to see a line akin to the Marvel MAX imprint. Honestly, I was an avid reader of the Wildstorm line of comic books and I feel as if those properties have been watered down and mishandled since the recent DC revision. I think introducing alternate “MAX” versions of these characters in a mature line would satisfy readers like me.

In DC’s mature line, superheroics would shift to the background. The focus would be on smart crime, spy, war, humor, and adventure stories. The line would focus on cult favorites such as Wildcats, Lobo, Hitman, The Authority, Xombi, Team 7, and Checkmate. It would not be a place where children’s icons ran amok. Batman would be nothing more than an urban legend in this universe—akin to the Jersey Devil. There’d be no Diana or Amazons, only Coda. And, of course, Kal-El would happily spend his days as a lead scientist on Krypton. And would never be mentioned or seen.

Think about the modest success of the Extreme line. Think about a Waller war hawk gunning for old Team 7 members who have gone off the grid. Think about a Wildcats book exploring superhero decadence. Think about “bang babies” and urban blight. Think about a satirical space adventure or “buddy cop” comic featuring Guy Gardner dragging his prisoner Lobo across the galaxy to stand trial.

I’d have two ongoings—Wildcats and The Authority. Rotating miniseries would account for the remaining three books.

Why not give it a shot? You’ll need something in that vein once Before Watchmen is no longer shiny and new—properties for the cable companies to salivate over. Remember, there are some places the trinity simply cannot tread.


Three the hard way.

I’ve spent quite a bit of time lately mulling over the topic of marketing as it pertains to comics. I love the publishing industry as a whole, but comics and magazines hold a special place in my heart. Perhaps the marriage of pictures and words charms me? Who knows? But as Book Expo America looms on the horizon, my thoughts have drifted to the shores of sales. For today’s post I examine three novel marketing ideas for comic publishers hoping to increase brand awareness.

Macrocomics

Macrocomics is an idea I came up with many years ago. I still think it is a solid attempt at increasing recognition—sadly, one that many companies have not tried. Storefront security gates are a common sight in any urban community and a known blight upon the beauty of the city. Occasionally, a graffiti artist will use the metal canvas provided to make something beautiful. But instead of viewing each gate as a canvas, why not view each gate as a panel? Linear stories can easily be told via this format. A comic company in a particular city could obtain a permit and “adopt a block” for a weekend. Storeowners who received painted gates could have sidewalk sales to coincide with the event. Perhaps an old-fashioned block party could be held. And, of course, the local news media could certainly be alerted.

It is a situation in which everyone would benefit. Store owners would receive publicity and a renovation of their storefronts. Local news media would have a “puff piece” to investigate. Members of the community would have a beautiful art installation to appreciate. Finally, the comic company in question would have its IPs showcased each night at closing time—not to mention the initial positive attention received from a large-scale public donation of time and art. And should the company involve local children and graffiti artists in the project, allowing them to contribute their own tags and images throughout the work? The move would allow community members to feel a sense of ownership and prevent the work from being defaced. Moreover, graffiti artists would obtain the chance to freely show exactly who they are—real artists. However, leaving an empty word balloon or two for the publicly shy would be a good idea. Those artists could contribute their tags another night sans police observation.

Why macrocomics? Well, why shouldn’t comic companies benefit from what is already occurring in a slightly different form? It is much better than the negative press that stems from suing another nursery school. And what better place to showcase the marriage of art and commerce than the storefront of a business?

Magazine features

Most comic publishers are well aware of the fact that they cannot rely solely on marketing to a small pool of existing comic readers. In order to keep the industry afloat, readers who are completely new to the medium must be enticed. But how can readers be reached cheaply and in large numbers? Via magazines, of course. (Sadly, newspapers are a dead end.) Once again, most comic publishers acknowledge this fact and have taken advantage accordingly. A recent example can be seen in Playboy‘s showcasing of The Walking Dead. However, most comic publishers seem to have forgotten that, like soap operas, comics are a serial form of entertainment. Repetition is required to capture consumers—especially in an age when attention spans are short. Instead of a 6-page story appearing in a popular magazine for one month, it would be beneficial to have that story run in a popular magazine over the course of six months—one powerful page at a time. Any story used should certainly be substantial—something that takes some time for the reader to finish and makes the reader feel satisfied upon completion. It should also be visually arresting. Imagine an Empowered feature in Playboy, or perhaps a Richard Stark’s Parker feature in Esquire. If the publisher of a magazine is not open to the idea, ad space can simply be purchased to achieve the same result. One can’t skip ads in magazines. Comic publishers should use this to their benefit. Create a 6-page prequel for a self-contained series that has also been collected in a set of graphic novels and run one page a month in a popular national magazine for six months. But one must be sure to pick a magazine read by one’s potential audience! There’s no pointing placing a Watchmen tale in Seventeen.

Postcards

I can see that derisive sneer from here, you know! Yes, postcards! I stumbled onto the idea once upon discovering how showrunners for popular conventions often gouge publishers financially via numerous exhibition fees. Yet how can comic publishers access librarians outside of popular publishing conventions such as Book Expo America? Through the utilization of 600 postcards and one diligent intern, perhaps?

First and foremost, a comic company should create a “sampler” PDF. It is something each should have in one’s arsenal. The PDF should contain five pages from every graphic novel the company currently has in print. Creator information, target ages for potential audiences, ISBNs, ordering information, and prices should also be made available. The file should then be (1) uploaded to the company website and (2) given a URL that is easy to remember.

Next up, a postcard should be created. On one side? The company’s “hottest” properties. On the other side? A very brief introductory message and the PDF’s URL. Six hundred postcards in total should be printed. A postcard should then be mailed to the main library of the twelve largest cities in each state. Time consuming? Yes. However, that’s why a diligent intern is required! For the price of a gaming console, contact with 600 librarians is achieved. Not a bad haul. And should you have additional funds left over? Why not send a card to each state university library as well? But before one invests even a modest sum, be realistic. Many libraries are only open to all-ages material or critically acclaimed works. If your company produces substandard T&A, you are simply wasting valuable time and money using this particular method.

As always, in regards to any marketing campaign, one must take into account the product produced and available company resources. Next up, steps individual artists and smaller studios can take to grab the attention of the masses, and an upcoming report from Book Expo America. If you plan to attend, drop me a line if you’d like to talk comics!


Your friendly neighborhood Anansi.

I recently polished off Neil Gaiman’s American Gods and Anansi Boys—and enjoyed both immensely. As a humorous side note, I’ve also come to find myself troubled by spiders. Each day since finishing the last page of Anansi Boys, I have encountered one of the eight-legged fiends. I am sure each experience has been as unpleasant for the arachnid as it has been for me. The first encounter was too intimate to share and, frankly, too hilarious not to. Dropping my shorts at my feet to take a shower, I noticed an odd skittering back and forth beneath folds of cloth. I screamed and leapt across the width of the bathroom. (Don’t bother marveling at my athleticism. It’s a tiny bathroom.) Sure enough, a medium-sized brown spider darted out from the terry cloth and high-tailed it for the radiator. I was horrified. The occasional spider in the bathroom isn’t a catastrophe—but what if he had been carried from my bed? Needless to say, I ceded the bathroom to the arthropod and sheets were immediately stripped. Thankfully, no bites. Having endured a spider bite right on the small of my back, I can accurately state that they are (1) painful as hell and (2) do not bless one with Spidey sense. Or even common sense.

The second spider came a day later, hovering in the middle of the hallway at work, diligently spinning a web as if a check would be collected upon its completion. Huge. Black. Dare I say it? Muscular. He looked at me. I looked at him. Coolly, he pulled himself up to the ceiling and settled in the crevice of a light fixture. We both decided to pretend the moment never happened.

By day three it had come to be an expected annoyance. Nestled in a notch in my bathroom door frame was a tiny, almost translucent spider. Too small to cause fear and too remote to reach, I allowed him his rent-free existence.

Annoyance morphed to anger on day four when a thin, tan spider dropped down right before my face, and arrogantly plopped down on my computer screen. By this time, I had taken their appearances as some sort of sign. I roughly nudged him with a piece of paper, hoping he would hop on so I could carry him to the hallway. He refused. While I warned him not to make me kill him, he was slain by a coworker. Oh, well. I had given him options. If I’m being sent a sign from a higher power, I’d prefer one of the non-arachnid variety. In the meantime, let’s talk books, shall we?

American Gods is fantastic, though emotionally draining. I love the casual, easy way Neil Gaiman builds worlds and Gaiman’s ability to play with various shades of gray—both in terms of color and in terms of varying degrees of good and evil. I found myself charmed and repelled by both black hats and white. Sympathies were extended to chief villains; heroes were occasionally off-putting. However, I think my favorite aspect of the book is its ability to pull American readers away from America, forcing us to look at this bizarre and glorious circus we call a country from an outsider’s perspective. The title’s lead character, Shadow Moon, receives his first metaphorical death early on in the novel, as he is stripped of both the life he knew as well as the life he expected. His circumstances making him a blank slate and his grief leaving him completely numb, he is able to view the country’s quirks and rituals sans preconceived notions, something no American is able to do. Shadow simply accepts this country—the hate, the adoration, the violence, the customs—for what it is, refusing to edit what he sees to create the America that “should be.” It makes for an America that is chaotic and horrible, disjointed and extraordinary.

I followed Shadow as he recovered from a devastating loss; at the same time, I dealt with a personal loss of my own. Like grieving, it made the reading of American Gods a difficult, but essential experience. However, Anansi Boys is light-hearted and cathartic—a return to joy after a great deal of pain. Set in the springtime, both literal and metaphorical, of the world established in American Gods, Anansi Boys presents a world that is comfortable and familiar. Though Fat Charlie and Spider are beset by consistent bumbling, as a reader I never felt out of step with the world presented. With American Gods I had to relearn. Nothing could be taken at face value. The visible world was an egg shell and one false step could pull the main character and the reader down into a quagmire of yolk—a world beyond the world. The world of Anansi Boys is solid, comfortable. Perhaps it is because, unlike Shadow, the lead character is such a known figure. A black, hyphen-American with a pink collar job, struggling to make ends meet and saddled with a legion of older relatives who seem ancient and magical and completely ridiculous? It is as familiar as the reflection in the mirror—a foundation in which one can be sure.

However, just because it is familiar does not mean that it is mundane. There are stories and there are songs; some of them are true and some of them are not. In our world, a world without magic, we simply accept that and continue to enjoy the tales told. For Fat Charlie, this is not the case. Fat Charlie’s world is magical, and that means all of his songs are true. Everything is as it seems. A man can be a spider and a god, and still be a man—just as we’ve been told by our fairy tales and folk songs. All Charlie must do is accept this—and keep singing. And yet, that is not as easy as it sounds. But that’s what makes the tale all the more fun.


Ether.

My last post concentrated on damage control tactics for DC regarding the Before Watchmen project and DC’s early termination of Chris Roberson’s stint with the company. I’d like to use this post to “hop over the fence” and discuss possible ways in which independent companies such as Image and Dark Horse can capitalize on DC’s large public presence and apparent marketing weaknesses.

Watchmen artwork

DC is an industry behemoth—fat, sluggish, and slow, but also massively powerful. Its size is a blessing that affords it the best spot in Previews, constant press from popular news sites, and the rapt attention of a legion of long-devoted fans. Its size is also a curse. It has become an antiquated bureaucracy, limiting its speed. It is unable to make adjustments quickly in regards to negative press, unhappy fans, or dissatisfied talent. Any action required is initially bound by ribbons of red tape unfurled by editors elucidating edicts from on high. Its inflexible nature forces it down narrow paths that will one day restrict its growth, for example, catering to a shrinking subset of homogeneous readers or allowing nepotism to dictate the talent pool. But we all know what DC is. The question for the competition is this, how can we—as independent publishers—make money from it?

In my last post, I stated that DC should make moves to appear creator-friendly. Dark Horse and Image need to show that they are truly creator-friendly and sabotage any inroads made by DC into their creator-owned domain. And much to my pleasant surprise (because there is nothing that delights me more than a shrewd PR move), this is already occurring—cheaply and efficiently. Again, DC’s size affords it instant publicity. Attacks on the behemoth bring publicity too. A simple blog post from Stephenson or a Facebook interaction between Mignola and Hama will be picked up by news blogs and fan sites to be carried far and wide. And, amusingly, DC has played directly into their hands by responding, naming, and calling attention to both the attacks and the competition, assuming the role of Ja Rule instead of Jay Z. Think long and hard about the fates of both of these public personas, and of the two men who challenged them.

Watchmen artwork

But it is not enough to simply stick and move. The comic industry is, to put it mildly, incestuous. Of course, its incestuous nature allows for certain deals to be easily made. Creators move from project to project with a speed that rivals the label-hopping of current rap stars or suitor-switching of video vixens. A young industry hotshot cuts his teeth at Image, builds his reputation at DC or Marvel, and perhaps has another dalliance with an independent publisher when the restrictive nature of the two conglomerates occasionally curtails his creativity. The goal of the independent publisher is to increase the frequency of said dalliances until a permanent relationship with a creator is formed and it becomes the first option a creator considers when attempting to launch a project. How can one accomplish this goal? Spit game. Editors from Image and Dark Horse need to aggressively pursue well-known creators working at Marvel and DC—especially now that budgetary concerns at both companies have forced the conclusion of certain exclusivity contracts. Woo them with words that prove you can provide the best of both worlds—the freedom of Kickstarter and the security of a long-standing company. Not only will you be rewarded with a successful project, but the publicity that comes from a former unhappy and currently famous creator raving about his new “crew” and disparaging his old one is icing on the cake.

Watchmen artwork

However, some successes cannot be stolen or sabotaged. Sometimes, they must be methodically recreated. DC sits upon a tower of icons and industry lynchpins. Said tower was not created overnight, but required decades of creative input and calculated marketing. When I say that DC’s success should be recreated, I do not mean that companies should produce thinly-veiled versions of DC characters. No, what should be copied is DC’s slow and steady method of building franchises and brands. I want Graham’s excellent work on Prophet to be bound as soon as possible to be pushed as a mainstay for college literature courses. I want to see Hellboy and B.P.R.D. constantly cycling through high-profile film, television, and comic projects, never getting a chance to fade from the mainstream’s collective memory. I want to see an Empowered short story published in Playboy. I want a copy of King City to be found in every Barnes & Noble.

What I don’t want is for a creator with exceptional talent and an interesting project to be handed nothing more than a logo and a handshake. Foster loyalty, foster a crew, and then foster an image (no pun intended). Show and prove.


You played yourself.

The title of this post, apt and rapped, owes its life to De La, of course, from a song that has long been one of my favorites. DC has indeed played itself, and we’ve all watched—some of us in horror and some of us in amusement—as the company rode an initial wave of success brought about by its superhero relaunch only to crash upon the shores of a horrid public relations catastrophe with Before Watchmen. With each negative statement publicly made via blog posts, interviews, and news reports, DC is in grave danger of losing the reins of this publicity behemoth, something no company wants to have happen. When you lose control of the marketing, you lose control of your money.

I’m not going to discuss the ethical implications of Alan Moore’s treatment (or Chris Roberson’s, for that matter) here. A much better job of that has been done elsewhere. Besides, my tweets were mercenary in tone and were focused on the only thing of importance to DC: How can we get people to stop badmouthing us in the press and embrace the Before Watchmen project?

The solution is found in something near and dear to many of us—rap music.

In the earlier days of the nineties and aughts, when rap could equal commercial success but still had legitimate ties to black urban youth culture, record executives who wanted to sell their new rapper to lucrative middle and upper class white audiences still had to have the “streets cosign.” In other words, poor black kids made stars, rich white kids gave them money so they could shine.

Before Watchmen is that star. The indie comics community—both reader and creator? “The streets.” And the rest of us? Bored white kids with pockets chock full of money. DC’s first mistake was thinking it could sell directly to the masses and ignore rumblings from the indie circuit. Jamal Henricks standing out in front of Marcy Projects in 1995 damn sure didn’t want some suit trying to sell him soulless suburban rap. And he and his crew could end a career with one bad comment. Ask Kwame. Likewise, Brendan the English professor who reads The Comics Reporter and uses Watchmen for his class on ethics in literature doesn’t want to hear a slick Before Watchmen sales pitch. The trust fund kids who play poor in Williamsburg and dig the indie comics scene don’t want to hear from company men in Green Lantern t-shirts and baseball caps. And the men and women who are the working poor that make up the indie comics scene certainly don’t want to hear from Lee (who, though a nice man, has a terrible reputation for being a sell-out), Didio (who bleeds and breathes commercialism), and JMS (who, whether deservedly or not, currently has a reputation for being a rich blowhard dismissive of creators’ rights).

That’s a serious problem, because those groups I just listed? That’s DC’s free Before Watchmen street team. You think the retailer who tweets about Scarlet Witch’s tits is going to sell Before Watchmen to college bookstores and libraries? You think the fanboy cosplaying as Nightwing is going to push Before Watchmen projects at Barnes & Noble? No. And the people who would? Right now DC’s free street team thinks the worst of DC and the Before Watchmen project—an assembly of scabs, leeches, and cornball sell-outs. This attitude must be rectified. But how?

First and foremost is to announce a creator-owned imprint—big names, big press, and contracts that are deemed fair and acceptable by the industry. DC needs to be seen as creator-friendly. I commented earlier regarding the subject:

“What’s needed is a ‘keep creators happy’ imprint. Are you a big name? Have you produced a commercial success for us? Let us do the same for you. Terrible Company Man POV: Look, we swiped you from Image and let you beef your name up with DC characters, why should we hand you back? Main goal: Keep that DC logo on all books that draw eyes. Some will make a ton of money, some will make a little. It’s all publicity. Most articles about the Walking Dead TV show have an Image mention tucked away. Tying your company name to a success is always good.”

Cheryl Lynn Eaton

Next up is to quietly pull incendiary hucksters from the table. This is a Watchmen project, not Teen Titans. Move creators with good reputations like Conner and Azzarello to the forefront. Focus on Jae Lee instead of Jim. Think quirky instead of commercial. Biggie never danced in a shiny suit.

Finally, damage control for the Roberson situation is required. Of course, the best approach would have been to let Roberson leave when he had announced he would leave instead of pulling him from a project.

“So, you slip in a co-writer with Roberson. Someone young and eager that Roberson can shape and show the ropes. And you treat that kid nicely. When Roberson bounces, you have a baby Roberson in place that has swiped some of Roberson’s shine and his small fan following. As talented? Maybe not since she’ll be younger and less skilled. But she’ll only get better. And yes, you get a woman in there to keep fans from bitching about the co-writer deal. ‘Oh, we thought you wanted more women in comics.'”

Cheryl Lynn Eaton

Of course, DC went for the worst possible PR move and yanked Roberson instead, but they can improve upon the situation by assigning a female writer of YA fantasy novels to the Fairest title.

Long story short, I’m very interested to see if DC manages to turn things around. Right now the company is walking a tense tightrope between Drake and Yung Berg and Image is eyeing chains hungrily. We’ll see.


Wonderful. Terrific. Fine.

With the introduction of Helena Wayne and Karen Starr as Huntress and Power Girl, DC Entertainment has given fans what they have clamored for in a way that some readers are still a bit unsure about. However, the World’s Finest are here, with a gender and sex change to keep things fresh and new.

Of course, I was always a bit irked by the original incarnation. An assembly of the “World’s Finest” without the inclusion of Wonder Woman feels incomplete and exclusionary. Wonder Woman has always been both there but not there, her gender often keeping her separate and regarded as an afterthought by many male readers. And that’s sad. It’s not a dynamic duo—that would be Batman and Robin—it’s a trinity. And I always get a little ping of delight when the comics reflect that.

I think what is most interesting about the arrival of Huntress and Power Girl is the possibility that not only does it provide a warped reflection of the World’s Finest that most fans are used to, it also provides a warped reflection of DC’s most well-known and lopsided triangle due to Karen’s connection with Mr. Terrific.

Like Diana, Mr. Terrific is both there and not there. His connection to Earth Two is merely tangential—as is Diana’s connection to the world that Clark and Bruce were raised in. An attempt has been made to place him in a romantic relationship with Karen—as Diana has often been foisted on Bruce or Clark. And hilariously, that romance has been largely ignored as fans rush to embrace the romantic subtext between Helena and Karen—subtext that is also evident between Bruce and Clark and has long been cherished by fans.

And of course, there is the elephant in the room. As Diana’s gender makes her seem of lesser importance due to the casual sexism of some readers, Mr. Terrific’s race will likely result in the same due to the casual racism found amongst comics fans. I will be amused to see if the excuses match up!


BHM: What can brown do for you?

I’ll make this one short and sweet. Originality is not achieved through color. Applying a pallet swap to someone else’s story does not qualify as a “new spin.” It’s a cheap trick, a shortcut to reach a previously untapped resource—minority audiences.

It’s not uncommon to want to pay homage to the stories that precede us, to revisit the myths that we will hand down to our children and grandchildren. An alien falls to earth. A vigilante haunts the streets. A patriot fights for justice. We repeat these stories like ballads in old watering holes, each incarnation shifting slightly to fit our culture and our desires.

But how that slight shift matters! And that shift must be more than just a variation in shade. Point blank? If you make the decision to create a black character pastiche, you best make that decision mean something. It should alter the nature of the work. We don’t need a black Superman. We have Superman. To make audiences sit up and take notice, to truly examine the theme of the alien beneath the lens of race?

You establish an Icon.