Stop Me If You've Heard This One: Three Comics Fans Walk Into A Comics Store ...

Reading Nick's post again the other day got me thinking about my experiences with Free Comic Book Day. There are two instances in particular I'm remembering, and I think both shed some light on the importance of retailers in the comics industry. I'll tell you about them chronologically.

Waaaay back in 2008, my boyfriend and I traveled to Deerfield, Massachusetts to spend the weekend with one of my best friends and her boyfriend. Deerfield was her hometown and we had a grand time getting shown around all the cute shops and cool boutiques and rural walkways of the area. One morning, we drove to an adjacent town for no specific reason I can remember, and looking for something to do, we wandered into a storefront that had large posters of comic superheroes plastered all over the front windows.

Upon entering, the store immediately reminded me of the comic stores I avoided when I was a little kid. The walls were painted a dark color and books were stacked everywhere, with boxes upon boxes filling tables with cardboard-supported back issues. Instead of having a delightful, stuffed ambiance like every used bookstore ever, leaving me ready for a browsing adventure, these crammed comics shops usually filled me with a sense of dread. If I ever passed one and looked in the window, I often saw bunches of middle-aged men flipping through books intensely, or searching for something intensely, never looking or talking to anyone around them. Or if they did talk, they were loud and opinionated; I could hear their voices rattling through the glass sometimes. I bought all my "Batman: The Animated Series" comics at Media Play, so scared was I to enter these grim places.

Anyway, L, Z, R (R being my boyfriend) and I entered this shop and started to browse. There was a group of three guys hanging out at the front counter, but I didn't pay much attention, since such shops turn me into one of those intently staring people. I've become convinced over the years that you never look up in crowded comics shops because if you did, all the superheroes in the posters slapped up on the walls would jump all over you. And who wants Wolverine to poke you in the eye with one of his claws?

So, there I was browsing, and I came upon a book I'd been meaning to read for a while. It was Superman: Secret Identity, written by Kurt Busiek and with art by Stuart Immonen. If you like Superman and haven't read this miniseries about a Superman growing up on an Earth without other superheroes, you're missing out! Busiek's exploration of identity and maturation through the eyes of a being with miraculous powers is pretty breathtaking, so I'd recommend it to everybody. Here's a sample of some of Immonen's amazing art and inks to entice you:

All of these panels showcase both the awesomeness and the loneliness of the character as he discovers his powers and tries to deal with them in the natural world. And it's totally worth buying if you're comics fan. But I gush and digress.

I flipped through this beautiful book by one of my favorite writers, and decided today was the day. I was going to buy it. I left my comrades nosing through some back issues and ambled up to the counter where three dudes were standing. One of them had his own nose stuck in a book and didn't really look up when I mentioned I had something I'd like to purchase. The guy actually manning the register gave me a patented dude head nod so I put the book on the counter and looked through my bag for my wallet while he rang me up. The third dude, a guy I very distinctly remember as wearing a black leather jacket over a black t-shirt, and whose black hair was slicked back to high heaven, spotted the title of the book when the register guy put it in a brown bag. He got bug-eyed.

"THAT'S A GREAT BOOK," he said way too loudly.

"Uh, thanks," I said, taking out my credit card to be swiped.

"NO, SERIOUSLY. IT'S -- LIKE -- REALLY, REALLY GOOD."

"That's good to hear. It looks good."

"LIKE, ONE OF THE BEST SUPERMAN BOOKS OUT THERE. I BET YOU DIDN'T KNOW THAT."

I sighed, mentally. Oh, here we go. There's a girl in the comic shop, she must not know anything about comics. "Well, I'd heard a lot about it and read about it and Busiek's had a really good run on Superman and Astro City, so ..."

"IT'S REALLY UNDERRATED. IT'S REALLY AWESOME THAT YOU'VE GOT GOOD TASTE LIKE THAT."

I looked to the back of the store. There was L, Z and R. And no one was lifting their heads up at this guy's voice. I thought his tone was really kind of endearing in its enthusiasm, when I got right down to it, and I wanted others to witness it for themselves.

"YOU KNOW, IF YOU EVER WANTED ANY GOOD RECOMMENDATIONS, YOU KNOW, THERE'S CARDS RIGHT HERE WITH THE STORE'S NUMBER AND STUFF ON HERE. IF YOU WANTED TO GET IN TOUCH."

He stared at me without blinking, like he was trying to tell me something.

Wait a minute. Was this dude hitting on me?

"YOU KNOW, IF YOU WANTED TO TAKE ONE."

"Thanks, but I don't really live in the area."

"OH. WELL, IF YOU'RE EVER BACK HERE ..."

"Sure."

By this point, my card had been swiped and my brown bag was ready to go. But the register guy hadn't handed it back yet. He had put his hand over its brown surface so I couldn't just grab it from the counter, and I wasn't sure why, but he seemed to be sizing me up with his eyes. Then he finally spoke: "I've got something for you."

"Oh, yeah?" I said. "Well, I really just wanted this, so--"

He waved my words away with a hand and walked out from behind the counter to one of the black wire racks nearby. "No, you like good comics, you deserve something extra." He plucked a thin issue out of the racks and handed it to me. The cover read something about the DC universe and a crisis and it was labelled zero and it wasn't something I'd ever pick up for myself in a million years, even though it had Superman on the cover bestriding a sky full of stars. I looked up at the register dude. He looked back at me solemnly as my hands closed around the book.

"That's for Free Comic Book Day," he said. (First I'd ever heard of the event, which had been earlier that month; he explained the concept to me, which I thought was rad, because -- free stuff!) "Right now this issue's supposed to be fifty cents. But you're cool, you can have it for free."

"Oh. Really?"

"Yeah. Like the man said, you've got good taste."

I shuffled over to the counter, slid the issue into my brown bag and creased the opening shut. "Gee, thanks, guys," I said, trying not to answer their serious and genuine offer of street cred with a giggle or something else they might deem inappropriate. It was actually kinda nice they made a fuss over something that cost fifty cents (something that at this moment I realize I may have given away or tossed in the trash within a year or two of receiving it).

What I'm really saying is that it's nice they made a fuss over me. Lots of times, girls in comics shops raise eyebrows of all varieties, but for once I didn't feel put-off by loud talking or serious study of books. These three guys just cared A LOT about what they were reading, and what's more, they cared a lot about what I was reading and they wanted to help me read more (the book I'd gotten for free was a preview for events that would affect the next three years of DC comics; it put me ahead of the curve on continuity). That doesn't happen often, even in used bookstores. And it's worth mentioning now, because it shows the marks of smart businessmen, who are vital to the comics industry ...

... Even if I did return to the counter with R a few minutes later when he wanted to purchase a trade and I mentioned that he was my boyfriend eighty times in two minutes, just to make things clear to Mr. Loud Talking Leather Jacket. Because I'm a spaz.

Anyway, moving forward. It's 2010 and I'm working in the tourist industry in Philadelphia. Now in the tourist industry, you always work weekends; it's impossible not to work weekends. That's when people want to see stuff. So I was in a pickle on Free Comic Book Day that year; I had to work that weekend. And it might not have been important to me, except I'd found a home at a lovely comics store on South Street called Showcase Comics (sometimes referred to as Atomic City Comics, depending on what sign you look at).

This shop is one of the friendliest places I've ever frequented on a regular basis (now semi-regular; I go back on breaks from school; they still recognize me there). The staff is charming and fun, more than willing to show off the low-budget ninja movies they're making on the side via their big screen TV, and yet ready to help you search for anything you could possibly want if you look lost. When checking out, they will strike up great conversations about what you've purchased, what's comparable to it, what they like about the artist or writer, and also how you found the artist, writer or story. When I came in week after week to buy a new Astro City trade (seriously, I bought the entire available run of that book in about three weeks), they understood my excitement and argued the pros and cons of what Busiek was doing with the series, instead of looking at me like I was a happy-spending, obsessed freak.

To boot, the store's selection was (and still is) great; the manager clearly had his head to the ground and adjusted his selection layout based on what was popular, but didn't let the upcoming comic movie of the summer take over the whole place. They also had racks of indie comics, back issues, memoir comics, an amazing trades section and a great little section for kids. And everything was painted white or bright primary colors! Plus, for a while, they had the X-Men arcade game from the 1980s!

I loved this store and its staff, I always felt safe in the family-friendly environment they created (there were always lots of kids running around, many belonging to staff members, who were basically all adults with family, etc.), and I loved being able to talk about comics stuff with professional people. So missing out on FCBD was a bummer in Philly, because it meant I wouldn't be able to talk about what was hip and happening with some of the most knowledgeable people in comics I had access to. Not that I knew any of the staff members' names; I was always too timid to ask. But on FCBD, I felt like I should be spending part of my day with them.

But I couldn't; I had to make that money, son. So instead, I went in on my day off, which was probably some random day like the next Wednesday. I wandered into the store, picked up whatever I felt like buying, etc. The manager was at the counter, and he looked up when I stepped over to pay. He smiled and said, "Hey, we missed you this weekend."

"Yeah," I said. "Had to work. I bet it was a madhouse in here."

"You bet. Every year, this thing gets more popular. We ran outta books! Kids're just ripping stuff off the shelves, you know."

"That's awesome," I said.

"Yeah, well, like I said, you didn't come in. And when I didn't see you, I saved some stuff for you."

"What?" The whole point of FCBD is to give away a bunch of crap in order to get people to buy more crap. Why save something for someone who isn't going to show and doesn't want to buy Green Lantern comics? That's losing you money.

"I mean, there were some little kids that came in this week who missed the free books, and I mean, they're little kids, so they had to get into the stash first, but ..."

The manager turned to the back rack of comics behind the counter and pulled out three or four books for me (a Spiderman, a Green Lantern I ended up giving to R, and some other things I can't remember exactly). He slipped them into my brown bag as he continued to check me out.

"Hey, we gotta look out for our own, don't we? I mean, you're a regular, we gotta keep you up to date."

I was a regular, I'd never been a regular anywhere before that ever.

"ManmynameisSarahandIthinkyouguysareawesome."

"What?"

I stuck out a hand for a shake, which he took, and I slowed down.

"I dig this store so much and I think you guys do a great job."

"Oh. No problem." And he handed me my comics.

See, both the Massachusetts store and the Philly store have something in common. The free books didn't matter, marketing-wise or industry-wise; more often than not, they were filler. But both these memories mean something to me because of the gesture involved in each. We can get mad at DC and Marvel for not giving their audiences what they want because they're corporations, but when it comes right down to it, retailers are the first line of defense in their arsenal, and they should give retailers more credit and give them better stock, as Nick suggested.

Because I've been to the comics store in my current grad school town once. R and I went in on one of my breaks and the sales people sat back by their gaming tables the whole time, never said hi, never wanted to chat, nothing. They stared at us like we should leave, so we did. And I've never gone back there. And I never will.

Running a good business means being good to your customers. And when you're working in a niche market like comics, the little gestures, the little kindnesses pay out for you in the end. I know they meant everything to me. These two stories are yarns I still tell years down the line, and they're part of what makes me love comics culture, despite my constant anger and frustrated expectations at major comics companies in general. The people are what make things go, however.

It's good to remember that once in a while. That there are people out there who love what you love and see the possibilities that you see in something. And it's worth reaching out to them the same way they reach out to you.

In that spirit, I'd like to take a moment to thank everyone in these two stores I mentioned, though I doubt they'll ever read this blog. But if they do, they should know they made one comics fan happen one day or another, and she's tried to spread that enthusiasm on to others. Trick of the trade, you know.

POST-SCRIPT: On that note, I tell you with extreme excitement that in the next few weeks, I will be doing round-table reviews with my learned friend and fellow comics fanatic Ed. We aim to read a gaggle of the DCnu 52 books, like JLA 1, Action Comics 1, Batwoman 1, etc., etc.

I'm looking forward to it, even if this company decision causes me a lot of pain. Talking out this new direction should be fun for us, and I hope it's fun for you. Stay tuned for the first set of reviews!

Free Comic Book Day And Its Pitfalls

-A guest post by Nick Philpott-

Ever since I was young, I've been what some would call a voracious reader and what some others would call a total dork. I learned to read early, and basically devoured whatever I could. Usually my choice of book was entirely dependent on the cover art (a lot of judging books by their covers, har har), which led me to reading a lot of somewhat lurid fiction, which probably wasn't enitely appropriate for a kid my age.

Most of the blame for that falls squarely on R.L. Stine's shoulders, because I read his adult novel, Superstition, thinking it would be like a really scary Goosebumps book. It wasn't. It was the first book I ever read with the word "masturbation" in it, and led therefore to the first of many awkward conversations with my parents as the result of reading books which were at my reading level but not necessarily my life level.

Oddly, comics books didn't really appeal to me until I was freshman in high school, even though they had some of the best cover art. I think part of it was the idea that comics only came one at a time and the stories never truly finished. Half the fun of reading, for me, is seeing the story wrap itself up, tie a bow, and finish itself off. But one day, a capricious trip to my library's Teens section yielded a new result: the graphic novel. Somewhat shockingly, my local library in suburban Cincinnati (such a small branch that it fit comfortably into a strip mall, right next to an Ace Hardware) was well-stocked with comic books, running the gamut from the entire Dragonball magna to single issues to the collected landmark series, such as The Dark Knight Returns and Crisis On Infinite Earths.

Being an awkward, unathletic teenager with no real goals in life, The Dark Knight Returns appealed to me on a gut level because Batman was everything I wasn't: focused, driven to a singular goal, and athletic as shit, not to mention had a hefty bit of Bruce Wayne swag and could have gotten all the ladies. I went home that afternoon and devoured the sucker. I think I skipped dinner, which is unusual, because if there's one thing I love, it's dinner. Now that I knew that comics could tell self-contained stories, I couldn't get enough of them. I read all of the graphic novels, the collected editions and whathaveyous I could get my hands on from the library. It didn't matter what it was, I'd read it.

Shortly thereafter, I saw on AOL's homepage (if that doesn't date me a bit, nothing will) that there was this magical day in May called Free Comic Book Day. I loved comic books! I loved free things! I loved days! What could be better?? So I dragged my friends to our local comic book store (Queen City Comics and Cards, which I'm convinced is the only comic book store in the Greater Cincinnati area, right across from the best record store in town, Everybody's) with promises of free issues of whatever comics they wanted, and hell, maybe I'd buy something, just for laughs.

And then we saw the selection of books.

Free Comic Book Day is a horrendously obvious marketing tool for the industry in general, but we let them get away with it because, God bless 'em, at least they're trying. They give away a free comic book to anyone who wants one as a sort of gateway drug into the Scarface mound of cocaine that is the comic book world. As a friend of mine once put it, "Oh, so it's like with coke, where the first one they give you is a real good batch to get you hooked and coming back for the stuff cut with milk powder." Yes. Yes, it's exactly like that, except for one difference: the first one is almost all milk powder.

All the books on Free Comic Book Day, in my experience, fall into one of several categories:

Issue 0's: As a backhanded way of trying to get you involved in reading a company-wide crossover and get some of the exposition out of the way, a lot of "Issue 0's" get handed out on FCBD (I'm tired of typing that all out, forgive the abbreviation). The most recent example that comes to mind was Issue 0 of DC's Blackest Night, a crossover centered around the Green Lantern Corps, which is making a comeback in a big way, and has been for several years now. I think I can safely say that it was an entirely unnecessary issue that was basically just the Flash (Barry Allen) and Green Lantern (Hal Jordan) standing around, talking about death. It was interesting as a Platonic dialogue between two people have died before about the nature of death and the loss of friends, but it didn't move the story until the last page, when the Black Lantern showed up; basically a whole sequence that was repeated at the beginning of Issue #1 of Blackest Night. Nothing about the issue gave me a sense of urgency, of needing to read Blackest Night immediately when it hit the stands. I'm pretty sure Blackest Night started in the summer of 2009 and I didn't read it until the collected hardcover came out, which was something like winter of 2010/2011.

Reprint collections: There's usually at least one comic that's a couple old EC horror comic stories that have been reprinted with new color and whathaveyou. They're satisfying stand-alone stories, and the new color is always nice, but they're rarely the pick of the litter. I mean, I love those old horror comics, and God knows I love Creepshow, but honestly, if it's either that or an Issue 0, I'm gonna go with the Issue 0, because I don't know what's in it. It's like on Let's Make A Deal: You can either have the sweet new guitar that you've already got, or you can open the mystery door and possibly get a bitchin' new car. Unfortunately, in this scenario, usually there's a heaping pile behind the mystery door.

Dark Horse: Dark Horse is one of the few comic publishers that I think gets it right every year on FCBD. Their offering is usually something Mike Mignola-related, be it a Hellboy story (which are always fairly stand-alone to start with) or a random short that Mike cranks out, plus, they usually have something Star Wars, which is always nice. I'd venture to say that Hellboy and Star Wars are Dark Horse's two biggest properties, so it's sort of like if DC and Marvel would ball up and put a Batman, a Superman, a Spiderman and an Avengers title on the shelf. For free.

Not enough books: This isn't a kind of book, but the past couple years, I've gotten to the comic book store and they've been out of free comics, which means people even took the weird outlier books from Top Cow and whatnot. I don't know if that's the fault of whoever runs the store because they didn't order enough, or if that's even how it works, so let's not place blame for this one, we'll just say it's an unfortunate reality and we'll move along.

Alright, we've made it this far, here's where I finally deduce the problem. I feel like Free Comic Book Day is going about its marketing in a wholly wrong way, which could be extrapolated to the industry as a whole (but that's an entirely different essay). They're offering a free product to supposedly an untapped market of non-readers, but because they're offering sub-par material, they're not getting the readers they should be. There is a scummy undertone to this whole affair, where you can essentially smell the fear of the companies that they are losing a profit for a whole day.

My admonition to the industry as a whole is this: You're multi-billion companies. You put out movies that make staggering amounts of money, like, feed-a-third-world-country-for-years money, and that's not even counting the cash cows like Iron Man and The Dark Knight. Would it kill you to put some A-list talent to good use and have someone write a free comic book that would just knock it out of the park? If you want people to know what they're missing, you have to give them what they're missing. You need to get Grant Morrison to just unleash himself on a single issue, get Tim Sale to draw something rad, I don't know, SOMETHING.

But until that happens, I'll still be in line on FCBD this May, waiting for my milk powder.

Just A Kid From Brooklyn

I'm coming late to the party, in terms of seeing "Captain America: The First Avenger." But when I really think about it, that's a little apt. I knew the movie had potential, I just needed to wait for the right break in my schedule to take action and watch it, much as Steve Rogers the ninety-pound weakling just needed the opportunity to prove himself in order to change the world as Captain America.

Hmm, that's a pretty shameless shirtless Chris Evans shot, isn't it? Oh, well. Onward and upward!

I've always wondered myself what it is that draws people to Captain America. I mean, in the movie, he wears a very tailored soldier's armor that just happens to be painted red, white and blue, thanks to a USO debacle (easily the funniest sequence in the movie):

But in the comics, he's historically looked like this:

Watch out, guys! Here's a huge moving target coming right at you! With winged ears, to boot!

Now I realize thinking of this costume as a bit too much is pretty nuts, and at least, hypocritical. I mean, some of my favorite superheroes have dressed like this in the past:





1) Superman Red and Superman Blue, you both look like you stepped out of Tron.
2) Wonder Woman, there is no space in your costume to store that arsenal. Also, watch out for super-wedgies!
3) Green Lantern Kyle, I do not understand that white stripe or your fingerless gloves.

But I digress. Captain America's gaudiness and longevity has always struck me as particularly crazy, given his phenom heyday was as a propaganda comic bolstering American optimism during World War II. I was never sure what it was about him that captivated imaginations so long after Hitler was defeated.

The movie put things into perspective for me, though. Several times, the characters point out that they're not following Captain America, but the kid from Brooklyn who wanted to serve, powers notwithstanding. Steve even points out that when getting the crud kicked out of him by the Red Skull.

And much is made of Steve exceeding expectations before or after becoming a Super Soldier, precisely because he is a good person. That's the basic point of the movie, actually; Steve was always a hero, he just needed the opportunity to take action, and that requires others to believe in his capabilities as a human being. (SPOILER?) Taking this tack, his sacrifice at the end of the movie is sad in that he loses the chance at a happy life with the totally awesome Peggy Carter by making the ultimate sacrifice, a heroic choice that will save millions of people. But it's a happy moment in that he relies on his humanity to do right by others; he fulfills the need to serve and protect he's been nourishing the whole movie. (END SPOILER!)

So, all in all, this movie showed me exactly WHY this character is still popular today. A youngster getting the chance to make good is a typical story in early American fiction, but I'd also argue it's the lens through which we view America throughout history. We were the underdogs who understood we had so much more to offer than imports for our colonial fathers. As a nation, despite growing cynicism over the past thirty years or so, there's still a current of "can-do" spirit surging in non-profit work or even in canny political moves. As Americans, we started as the 90 pound weakling, and then because we believed in ourselves and our scrappy strength, we come out on top as a world power (not always morally, but with the foundation of our country relying on a moral imperative).

Now. What's going to happen to that world power in today's reality is not what was going on in WW II, but what happens in our fantastic belief in our abilities -- well, that's up to each individual, just as it was up to Steve in this movie.

POST-SCRIPT: Captain America is the result of mythologizing, but the complications of what "Man As Symbol" does to a person has been a large part of Ed Brubaker's stunning years-long run on the Captain America comic. Check it out if you want to see America viewed through a variety of lenses, both heroic and compromised.