List-y List #1: My Favorite Writers, aka, The Writing Gods

Starting off my series of lists, I thought I'd do the one that was most thematically relevant to me on a personal level.  Wanting to be a writer, I've studied and observed a number of them, from a variety of mediums, with a particular focus on comics.  I'd like to think that they would be happy to know that their works and efforts have helped inspire me not only to write, but to start and maintain this blog, which I've so far managed to do at a daily clip.  They are, in short... my writing gods.

These kinds of lists tend to be a matter of personal taste, and are in no way meant to disparage anyone else's favorites.  They are simply my favorites, my gods of writing, and there are plenty of other excellent writers who didn't make this iteration--Chris Claremont, Alan Moore, and Ed Brubaker come immediately to mind, as will doubtless others.  

The writers who have had the biggest effect on my reading experience, and who hopefully influence my writing the most, are:

1. Neil Gaiman - Sandman.  Neverwhere.  The Graveyard Book.  Coraline.  Marvel 1602.  American Gods.  An episode of Doctor Who.  If there's a medium for which Neil Gaiman can't write, I have yet to experience it.  Truly one of the most imaginative and culturally aware writers of this day and age, his ability to take the fantastic and marry it to the mundane with such effortless aplomb never fails to amaze and surprise me, even when I'm expecting it.  He's resurrected comic book characters, and reinterpreted mythological and historical figures with a deft touch that makes you wonder from where his insightful characterizations come. It's no wonder his work translates well to comics, television, film and prose works.  I can only hope to come anywhere near matching the depths of his fertile imagination.

2. Joss Whedon - Another master of many mediums, Joss Whedon had actually made a big impression on me long before I knew who he was, and impressed me less when I started to realize who he was.  Some of his episodes of Roseanne are among my favorites of the show's run, long before I cared who was scripting individual episodes.  My first "knowing" exposure to his name and work was the fifth season of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, which at the time, didn't impress me.  Then along came Firefly, and I emerged a Whedonite converted.  Film, comics, television... especially television.  There's nothing the man can't do well.  Whedon's witty dialog, strong women characters, and clever subversions of storytelling tropes are things I admire about his writing, and hope inform my own.  I particularly adore the Firefly and Serenity comics he's worked on, and the Buffy continuations as well.  All this before any mention of The Avengers, to boot!

3. Steve Moffat - The first non-comics writer on my list, Steve Moffat rates highly for his amazing work in television.  I first got acquainted with his writing on Coupling, a clever British comedy series about sex and the  thirtysomething characters trying to get it.  I loved its clever humor, occasionally imaginative plot structures, and the evenness generally portrayed when the sexes battled it out.  When I started watching Doctor Who, appropriately during the Matt Smith episodes, I didn't even realize at first that this was the same guy writing and running it!  It was a delightful treat.  Now this guy has gone and put a fantastic series together called Sherlock... perhaps you've heard of it?  He's a magnificent bastard of a writer, whose talent for suspense, adventure, and comedy are that rare blend that make for amazing television.  If you haven't seen any of the TV shows I've mentioned here, do yourself a favor and check them out.

4. J. Michael Straczynski - Most of JMS's writing work is stuff I've only been tangentially familiar with: the occasional episode of Babylon 5, a glimpse of an issue of Thor he worked on--and did you know he also wrote for the He-Man and the Masters of the Universe cartoon in the 1980s?!  But the two works that have stood out most starkly for me have been his run on Amazing Spider-Man--in which he took bold, imaginative risks in interpreting Spidey's powers and his relationships with those closest to him--and Superman: Earth One, a dynamic and insightful retelling of Superman's origin story and debut as the Man of Steel.  I don't often go in for Superman, but then again, I don't often go in for Thor or Babylon 5, either.  Yet I've never been anything but awed by the stories this man tells.  An excellent writer, of whose works I need to read more.

5. Scott McCloud - Though I've only ever read his most famous work, the graphic book Understanding Comics, I still hold Scott McCloud in immeasurably high regard for his insightful, playful, and easy-to-understand handling of the material.  In a clever sequential art style that matches the content and subject of the book, McCloud explains with simple thoroughness and plenty of visual aides how comics are made, and how writing and pictures are used to create this most wonderful of mediums.  That level of dedication alone is worthy of admiration; that he does it so eloquently and passionately is what makes him great, in my opinion.  It was after reading Understanding Comics that I was inspired to start writing my own comic scripts and even drawing some of my own pages occasionally.  And while I'll probably never draw as well as I'd like, I'll credit my own start as a writer of comic scripts to him.

6. H.P. Lovecraft - Though occasionally verbose and a little archaic in his diction, Lovecraft is undoubtedly one of the most influential figures in modern horror, serving as the inspiration for such modern masters as Stephen King, Anne Rice, Clive Barker, and John Carpenter--not to mention the aformentioned Neil Gaiman.  His stories about otherworldly cosmic horrors, ghoulish cults and creatures have had an undeniable effect on the collective psyche of horror writers and readers--not to mention my own sensibilities.  I think what intrigues me the most is the inescapable dread that infuses his stories, which seem to generally hinge on the idea of man's general cosmic insignificance, and that there is knowledge out there that we simply can't handle.  It doesn't make for the most uplifting of storytelling endeavors, but it does make for interesting and challenging storytelling.

7. Brian K. Vaughan - Having only read Y: the Last Man of his works, I can say that there are plenty of other titles out there that Brian K. Vaughan has worked on that have either been highly recommended to me by friends and family (Runaways), or that I just can't wait to read, based on that title alone (Pride of Baghdad, Saga, Ex Machina).  He clearly has a talent for taking supremely unenviable situations, thinking them through, and creating great opportunities for character development and exploration from them.  My little sister has started reading his run on Runaways, and given me the best feedback you can get about a writer's title, namely, "Buy me more of these, please!"  I'm aching to read his current series, Saga, but am currently waiting to get my hands on issues 1 and 2 before I can start.  It's a bit of a torturous undertaking, but some things are worth waiting for.

8. Terry Moore - A Houston institution, Terry Moore's strong depiction of women characters has set him apart as a writer who understands that beauty goes far beyond physical perfection.  Both a skilled writer and a good artist, his Strangers In Paradise strikes emotional chords in both the touching love story it tells as well as the expressiveness of the characters that populate it.  Moore can take a simple situation, such as a break-up, put a humorous spin on it with just the slightest clever twist, and make it unforgettable, just as he can shatter your expectations with a single, well-drawn look of pain on his heroines' faces.  His women, who tend to be his main characters, have a range of imperfections and flaws, from self-loathing to body image issues, but his ability to imbue them with humanity and depth make him an unforgettable writer and an amazing storyteller.

9. Scott Snyder - If there's been a best side to reading the New 52, it's that it's enabled me to discover Scott Snyder.  His deft guidance of Batman through the mystery of the Court of Owls saga and the subsequent (and current) Night of the Owls storyline have left me with my jaw hanging open more times than I can honestly remember.  Whether he's doing creepy nightmare illusions, mind-bending labyrinths, or unbelievably taxing physical trials, Snyder shows that he's not afraid to put heroes through the ringer, physically, mentally, or emotionally--and it makes for amazing storytelling.  I've yet to read any of his other titles, but I know he's got several projects going, and I intend to sit down and check them out as soon as time allows.  For now, the Court of Owls and Night of the Owls storylines alone have made Snyder one of my fastest-rising writing gods.

10. Dan Slott - I'm primarily familiar with Dan Slott through the recent and current issues of Amazing Spider-Man, but I'm very impressed with what I've seen so far.  He's taken different approaches to telling Spidey's story--some humorous, some dramatic, and some that are off the scales epic--and made them all very successful.  He obviously knows the characters, and I've been particularly amused at his banter and thorny relationship between Spidey and Mayor J. Jonah Jameson, as well as his writing of the supremely bright and quirky individuals at Horizon Labs, who serve as Peter Parker's colleagues and oftentimes as Spider-Man's allies.  With the current Ends of the Earth arc, we're seeing Spidey at his most serious, as well as his most resourceful, as he effectively takes on the Sinister Six with the entire world turned against him.  If that's not gutsy storytelling, then I don't know what is.

GN Review -- Superman Earth One / J. Michael Straczynski and Shane Davis

I've read a good chunk of Straczynski's run on Amazing Spider-Man, and it makes for some of the most interesting stories for that hero I've ever read.  I've also read various re-tellings of Superman's origin story, and I have to say, as far as they go, Straczynski's Earth One is probably the best one I've read at this point.

What makes it most interesting, for me, is that it takes place during a specific point in Clark's life.  He's on the point of adulthood, having just come to Metropolis from Smallville, and is trying to figure out what he wants to do with his life.  He's bound by nothing: he can be a star athlete, work for a pharmaceutical firm, virtually anything he wants, as long as he takes pains to conceal his alien origins.  He's struggling with that point, as well as his mother's desires for him to do what he truly wants, whatever makes him happy, despite a wish to make a lot of money and support her the way he thinks she should be supported.

All that changes when an alien fleet, led to Earth by a signal from the ship that brought Clark to the planet, flood the skies and threaten the entire planet.  Suddenly left with no choice, Clark puts on the costume his mother made for him and dives into the fray to stop the invaders.  What he finds is that the aliens are the murderers of his people, the Kryptonians, and they've tracked him to Earth to finish the job.  With things suddenly a lot more personal and the fate of the entire planet at stake, Clark must use every ability, talent, and resource he can to protect his adopted home and make a life for himself on Earth, his home.

I've enjoyed every JMS story I've experienced, be it in comics or on television, and Earth One is simply the latest in a long line of them.  One of my favorite parts of the story involved Clark's search for a job--how was he going to define his place in the world?  What was he going to do, and why?  It reminded me very strongly of Good Will Hunting, in how he was bound by nothing, and could choose any field in which he would automatically excel, making for some amusing scenes as well as setting up a compelling character exploration.

Clark's decision, at the end of the story, is not surprising--we all know he ends up at The Daily Planet--but his rationale for making the decision says a lot about him.  He clearly doesn't care about money; he is much more interested in the ability and willingness of people to help others.  When the rep from Neodyne offers him a boatload of money to sign him for their company, but brushes off the recent destruction and tragedy from the alien invasion as not being their problem, Clark immediately blows him off.  The staffers of The Daily Planet, however, risked their lives to cover the alien attacks, in dogged pursuit of the truth, even helping Superman in the fight.  In gratitude, Clark decides he wants to work alongside them in his civilian guise.

Artistically, I was pretty blown away by Shane Davis's work.  His pencils made for a realistic look to the narrative that really brought the visual delivery to a whole new level.  I also really loved the colors employed by Sandra Hope; they were very pleasing to the eye without being overwhelming, and really helped the story pop.  Both make a beautiful delivery of the visual package for this story.

Overall, I found this story to be very compelling, and that's saying a lot.  Superman has never been one of my favorite comic book heroes, but as always, JMS writes a story that really makes you root for him.  The art is breathtaking, and the writing makes for a story that is both familiar and freshly reinterpreted.  Highly recommended.

Hitting the Reset Button on Continuity, part III: When It's Done Badly

The reset button, while a potentially volatile and dangerous thing, is not inherently bad.  In the last post, I gave an example of a good use of the reset button, as well as some reasons why, in the hands of a respectful and skillful writer, it can be a necessary and benevolent change to an established mythology.  Unfortunately, there are for more examples of how the reset button can cause confusion, resentment, and even outright anger at the caretakers of a mythology.  My example for this post is a storyline from one of my favorite superheroes that left me feeling insulted, the Spider-Man known as One More Day.

Must... pull... finger!

Think what you will about the One More Day storyline, but you can't deny that it was heavily controversial among fans of the comics.  It came about from the editorial decision at Marvel to end Peter Parker's marriage to Mary Jane, under the guise of preserving the character's longevity for the next couple of decades.  The reasoning was that a younger, single Spider-Man was more easy for readers to relate to, therefore Spidey's marriage would be dissolved.

What ended up happening was this: due to Peter's public unmasking during the events in Civil War, his Aunt May gets shot and sustains a mortal injury.  He goes to every friend, foe, and possible resource he can to save her life, all of whom end up telling him that there is no hope, that Aunt May will die.  Some of his more sensible friends even tell Peter that he's obsessing and needs to let his aunt die; it is, after all, the way life works for everyone.  Peter, well known for never being able to lay down his guilt, can not bring himself to do this, and is at prime vulnerability for Mephisto, Marvel's version of the Devil, to make him a very special deal.

Mephisto proposes to Peter and MJ that he will save Aunt May's life in exchange for their love and their marriage.  He would make it so that it simply never happened.  Aunt May would be alive, the world would be unaware of Peter's identity as Spider-Man, and he and MJ would never have been married.  After some agonizing over the decision, they both agree to Mephisto's terms, and share one last embrace and kiss before reality comes apart around them.  Peter wakes up in Aunt May's house, single and apparently always having been, and kisses her good-bye before rushing off into the new status quo.

O-kay...

Before I launch into a tirade of what my problems are with this particular use of the reset button, let me just make a few things clear.  I have never been a particular fan of Spider-Man's marriage to MJ.  I have nothing against the institution or the character, but I've often seen them as more of a crutch or all-too-convenient plot device for writers to rely on or impede the character in some way.  This isn't always the case, but happens enough that I have noticed and sometimes imagined things would be better without that part of his life.  So the idea of ending Peter's marriage in and of itself is not and has never been a problem for me.

I will also say that Straczynski's actual writing of One More Day is really very well done, as is the artwork.  Despite my issues with Joe Quesada on the existence of this story, I can't deny he did a beautiful job of portraying the two lovers with a horrific decision to make in amazing visual detail.  No, the story itself is actually pretty well told.

My issues are with the existence and the perceived necessity of this story at all.  And even as it is well told, there are still a multitude of sore points that emerge in the narrative.  Let's queue up the bullet point list and go through them:

If I had a kid this insightful who turned it around on me, I'd

probably choose the reality where she wasn't born, too.  

That'd show her.

• The Reset Didn't Happen Organically.  There are those who would argue with me on this.  They point to Peter unmasking during Civil War, Aunt May getting shot and Peter's vengeful tear upon the perpetrators, even the journey he takes trying to save Aunt May.  And I would agree, all those were organic developments.  What I have an issue with is the sudden, very timely, very supernatural appearance of Mephisto to Peter.  Offering Peter a deal with the devil for purely selfish reasons, which he takes despite all logic, all the advice of his friends, purely to allay his guilt.  I think the scene where his own child rips into him for being selfish at least shows that the Powers That Be were aware of the wrath they were risking (hey, I did say this story was well-written).  But I also think the fact that they went ahead and chose this path makes its deliberate nature all the more insulting to the character.



Hey Spidey, let's make a deal...
You can trust me!

• It Felt Like a Total Deus ex Machina.  I'm sorry, make that a diablo ex machina, since Mephisto is the one involved.  Still, it's the same basic device.  You put the hero in a supremely untenable situation, with no apparent way out, and then a cosmic being or occurrence appears to set everything right.  Okay, not everything in this case, but in the end, Peter gets what he wants: his elderly aunt is restored to perfect health.  All he had to do was give up his marriage to his beautiful, loving wife in exchange.  Overall, it felt like the creative types at Marvel had done all these ground-breaking things with Spidey, then suddenly felt painted into a corner, and decided to use this mighty reset button device to get themselves out of it.  This is what I consider a prime example of lazy, cowardly writing that could have gone in so many interesting directions if the Powers That Be had displayed some moxie and left the reset button alone.  Even if you don't consider it in those terms, the fact that we have a supernatural solution being utilized in a primarily science-based title also lends to the feeling that none of this rings true.
• Original Continuity Was Not Destroyed, But Starkly Altered.  Hey, look!  Harry Osborne's back!  What?  He was never dead now?  What about the story in Spectacular Spider-Man where he... oh, he's actually been in Europe all that time?  Oh, well thanks for that one!  I thought none of this made sense!  Quesada made a big deal about preserving the stories already told in the comics, basically stating that the only detail that has changed was that Spidey and MJ simply weren't married during them.  So for example, when Venom went and terrorized MJ upon his inital emergence, that was the only detail that was changed.  MJ was just living with Peter, but not married to him when that fun bit of business went down.  So now, whenever we read any of the stories retconned by this reset button, we need to remember to add that one little detail into our Augmented Reality algorithm.  Having to do that, aside from creating headaches for new and old fans alike, just makes it feel like the people at Marvel just didn't care about the readers.  "Hey look, reality's changed, but it hasn't!  See?"  Yeah.  Lovely.

And don't even get me started on some of the other "details," like how Spidey apparent still unmasked during Civil War, but no one cares to remember the event.  Lazy.

In both the good and bad instances, we can see that use of the reset button is a powerful thing.  And, to quote a relevant source, with great power comes great responsibility.  Stewards of our modern mythology have access to this tool, but they need to respect its power, its potential effect on the audience, and the dire consequences it could entail.  To rely on it as a crutch diminishes the mythology overall, and shows a lack of sophistication among the creative staff.  It can be a wonderful thing when used well by the right people, but it should never be abused, overused, or poorly utilized.  

Take heed, creators.  Use this device at your whim, for it is yours.  Just remember the potential for both good and ill, and be willing to accept the consequences of either.  You have been warned.

Respect mah au-thori-tah!!!

GN Review -- Amazing Spider-Man: Ultimate Collection, v. 1 / J. Michael Straczynski and John Romita, Jr.

Some spoilers in this review if you haven't read this yet. You've been warned.

In Understanding Comics, Scott McCloud makes a persuasive case that comic books don't have to be the juvenile, two-dimensional form of entertainment that they've been pigeon-holed as for decades. He suggests that the blend of text with pictures with pictures in sequential form has every bit as much potential as prose literature, film, and painting at their highest cultural, aesthetic, and narrative pinnacles as a medium for storytelling and expression. When you consider how comics had been perceived (up until, arguably, the late 1980s), it was difficult to find an example of the medium that could delight both critics and fans.

J. Michael Straczynski's run on Amazing Spider-Man was certainly not a grand first in terms of elevating comics to mature remarkable storytelling when it came along, but it was an excellent example of how a talented writer, in collaboration with a good artist and creative team, can breathe new life into a title and cause fans to fall in love with a character and his world all over again. From the get-go, JMS puts Peter Parker through the paces as fate's personal chew toy, delighting readers with clever dialog, imaginative new foes, allies, and situations, and a rock-solid depiction of Peter's persistence to do the right thing as Spider-Man even during the worst of times. Multiple overlapping story arcs and plot points converge to shake up the status quo of Peter's world in ways that both matured the series while bringing it back to its roots.

JMS has always been strong at writing engaging story arcs for characters in a series, and he really shines here, weaving a large number of events right on top of one another. We have the introduction of the totemic aspect of Peter's powers--which, like it or not, gave readers some interesting food for thought with regard to his origin--and two characters central to the concept, Ezekiel, an ally who knows Peter's identity as Spider-Man, and Morlun, a super-human who hunts and kills totemic recipients with single-minded devastation. We have Aunt May learning Peter's identity as a result of the fight with Morlun. We have her talking to Peter about it and them dealing with it. We have Dr. Strange showing up to help Peter as he tracks down missing teenagers. And we finally have Peter and May going to Hollywood to attempt to reconcile with Mary Jane--and, incidentally, help Doctor Octopus take down an upstart who's stolen his technology.

What works with all of these arcs is not only the pacing, which is varied and realistically handled, but also the dialog and plotting, both of which are pithy, fast-paced, and remarkably well tailored to the story. For example, when security guards ask Peter about his web shooters, Aunt May, who now knows her nephew's other occupation, lends a hand by mentioning that they are hers, used for gynecological purposes, making the security guards back off fast. It's a laugh-out-loud resolution to a potentially compromising situation, and one that wouldn't have been possible without May's discovery of Peter's life as Spider-Man. Peter also handles a variety of problems, from the typical super-villain fights (Dock Ock and Morlun) to the lower-powered but no less important mysteries of homeless teens disappearing from their refuge. JMS depicts a Spider-Man who's never lacking in people to help, and whose interest in helping other guarantees many and varied requests, none of which he's too good for.

Helped along by John Romita, Jr.'s strong pencil work, JMS chronicles Peter's life in and out of costume in iconic fashion. There was a time (long ago) where I didn't care for his artwork and dismissed it as too cartoony, but he really has come a long way since then. Either that or I have. His style is extremely well suited to Spider-Man and his world. Peter is his perfectly cheesy self as he struggles and perseveres through the loops he gets thrown for in his personal and "professional" lives. Mary Jane, his wife from whom he's currently separated, is beautiful and stunning in her independence she develops her career in Hollywood away from Peter. Yet she is also vulnerable and uncertain as she tries to reconcile her need to be away from the uncertainties of his costumed life with her deep and undeniable love for him. And Aunt May is the picture of quiet strength as she learns more about her nephew's life and comes to understand and accept more than she ever thought possible.

Right after the Morlun fight and Aunt May's discovery of Peter lying, bloodied, bandaged and unconscious in his bed, his torn Spider-Man costume nearby, the narrative is interrupted by a commemorative issue. It's the 9/11 acknowledgment from Marvel, which originally had a grave black cover. It depicts the aftermath of the terrorist attacks, with superheroes helping police, firefighters and EMS personnel rescue survivors, as super-villains look on, shaking their heads in acknowledging that these terrorists have gone too far. It gives weight to an horrific event that we all remember, and paid homage to the true heroes of 9/11 with a salute from Marvel's own heroes.

This volume of Spider-Man lore is a prime example of Scott McCloud's assertion that comics do indeed have the potential to be more than the juvenile, low-brow entertainment that they are commonly derided as. Super-hero stories can, with the right touch, be as captivating, poignant, and emotionally relevant as any other form of literature or art out there. With dramatic storylines, deep emotional investment, and breathtaking artwork, this tome is my go-to example of how deeply rewarding comic books can be. Very highly recommended.