I Return!

For the last 10 days or so, I've taken a short hiatus from my daily writings in this blog.  This is mostly due to a number of factors in my life, from having a whole bunch of things going on in my personal life to burnout from writing every day to even having some confidence issues with regard to where this endeavor currently stands.  While I'm glad to be back, I think it's important that I touch on at least a few of these issues.

Those of you who have stuck with me these last few months know how proud I am of how much I've written in the Comics Cove.  From my first post, I made it clear that I was afraid this could be one of those efforts that get started and never get off the ground, that this might turn out to be a blog that gets started and then soon abandoned just because I can't think of anything to write about, or I can't keep the motivation going to write.  Clearly, that has not happened, and I couldn't be more pleased with how much I've written about comics in the time since late 2011.

The last few weeks, however, have been especially taxing for me.  Balancing the time to work, write, relax, and still meet the multitude of responsibilities I have in my personal life has really become difficult with the onset of the summer season.  With everything going on, writing ahead became impossible--I was writing up against a daily wall for much longer than I'll ever admit--and even keeping a daily essay up proved too taxing to maintain.  I am a little disappointed that I won't have written for a full year everyday, but I think if I hadn't taken a break, I simply would have burned out in some vital area of my life, and I wasn't willing to sacrifice any of that, most especially my desire to write.

Things haven't gotten much easier in the adjoining time off, and I'm pretty sure I won't be starting any more grand writing streaks any time soon here.  But I have kept reading comics, and having opinions about the storylines I uncover, so you can safely expect some more reviews and musings in the near future.

With that said, I will probably be taking a more casual approach to this blog, at least in terms of my frequency.  This is for several reasons, including the aforementioned danger of burnout.  Some of the others, however, are more personal.

As I've mentioned before, I'm very happy with my work on the Cove.  It is far and away the longest and most well-maintained blog I've ever undertaken.  And my enjoyment of comics in all forms has led me to keep it going for so much longer than any of my other efforts.  It seems as long as I had a good topic, that I was interested and passionate about, then I would have no shortage of things to post.  And it has been so liberating to discover that firsthand.

But something has changed.

I'm a decent writer, I think.  And I've wanted to be a writer since I was little.  But my first love has always been in fiction, and creating worlds, plots, and characters for people to read about and fall in love with.  And I have done very little fiction writing since I started the Cove.

Don't get me wrong; my output before the Cove wasn't exactly stellar, either.  But with the Cove, I've at least established that consistent writing is an attainable possibility for me.  I know I can do it, but lately it feels like I've been hiding behind the shield of all this creative nonfiction because it's easy for me to choose a topic and go.  I need to stretch my creative muscles more, and take that consistent writing of which I'm capable and try to make it work for the writing of which I'm presumably supposed to be doing more.

What this will all entail isn't exactly clear to me at present.  It may well mean fewer posts in the Cove, but I can't promise it will translate into more posts on my fiction blog, A Glimpse Through the Door.  I'll probably be a lot more miserly with showing off my fiction, as I'm less confident in my ability to write it than I am about my output on the Cove.  Scripts, too.  We'll see.

I do think this is the right direction to go, though.  In listening to Neil Gaiman's recent commencement address, I've come to realize that I have to take the steps that feel like progress towards my goal of being a writer.  I have to walk toward the mountain, as it were.  And this feels like a step in the right direction.  I will walk that path for a while, and hopefully I can share with you how it goes.  In the mean time, wish me luck, keep your readers tuned to this blog, and I promise you'll hear more from me here in the near future.

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 -- Marvel 1602 / Neil Gaiman, Andy Kubert, and Richard Isanove

I've been meaning to read Marvel 1602 for years, but only just recently hit that magical convalescence of having the time, energy, inclination, and proximity to put my hands on a copy and read it.  It's an imaginative take on my favorite superhero universe, by one of my favorite writers, and has an epic span that weaves history and fiction so seamlessly that you're almost convinced it could have been a part of the 1600s.

In other words, I can't believe it's taken me so long to read it.

In the year 1602, it is obvious that the world is in deep turmoil.  In addition to all of the provincial strangeness of the era--from the politics between England and its rival countries to countless assassination attempts on the life of Queen Elizabeth--there are other troubles brewing.  The witchbreed, humans born with freakish abilities that set them apart from everyone else, are hunted and persecuted by the Spanish Inquisition and others alike; strange individuals with fantastic powers and abilities are starting to emerge; and most disturbingly, a large, unusually powerful storm from afar is causing instability throughout the entire world, causing rulers and commoners alike to fear for their lives and very existence.

Warning: spoilers abound in this review.  I typically do spoilers, but if you haven't read this, do yourself a favor and stop.  Read the book first.  Enjoy the story as it unfolds.  You have been warned.

Stephen Strange, court physician
to the Queen.

When the queen's court physician, Dr. Stephen Strange, tells her top spymaster, Sir Nicholas Fury, that a powerful and mysterious weapon must be brought to the court from Jerusalem so that Strange can protect it, Fury employs his top freelance agent, the blind troubadour Matthew Murdoch, to retrieve it.  Strange, meanwhile, seeks answers about the far-off storm, while Fury travels to consult with his friend Carlos Javier about the witchbreed and their relationship to the Spanish Inquisition, headed by a Jew named Enrique.  A ship from the colonies, containing Virginia Dare, the first-born American, and her Indian protector Rojhaz, docks in England, marking the first sign that the strangeness affecting Europe is not necessarily confined to it.

As each of these threads twist, turn, and interact with one another, assassins leap from shadows and betrayals are set into motion as we are introduced to a number of other remarkable individuals and plots.  Queen Elizabeth is assassinated by Count Otto von Doom, allowing James VI of Scotland to assume the throne and enact his anti-witchbreed agenda, which Fury reluctantly executes himself.  Doom, a handsome man in this reality, has kept four Fantastick individuals captive, exploiting their abilities for various purposes; Fury takes the captive witchbreed to help him free his friend.  And Strange, who has been given knowledge of current event from Uatu the Watcher, is beheaded as a traitor by James.  Bound to keep the Watcher's secrets while he lived, he communicates from the dead with Clea's help that Virginia Dare and Rojhaz must be taken back to the New World, to the anomaly that is the source of the disturbances, to make the storms stop and preserve existence.

Rojhaz, revealed to be Captain America from the future, does not wish to return to his present time, and is deceived by Fury into a false sense of security before knocking him out.  With Enrique's help, Thor is able to execute Reed's plan and activate the anomaly, sending Fury and Rojhaz through it, gone from their existence forever.  Uatu, both shamed and praised by the Watchers for his part in preserving existence, is given a gift: an alternate universe, the 1602 universe, which he looks at to see how the individuals in it continue their lives.  Now in the New World, the heroes resolve to make an existence and declare independence from England.

I've said before that Neil Gaiman is one of my favorite writers--hell, he's one of my writing gods, frankly--and this story is yet another reminder of why.  In taking the pantheon of Marvel heroes and moving their existence to the time of the colonies, he weaves history in with the established lore of Marvel, subverting both just enough to craft a tale that is both believable in its execution and touching in its devotion.  The small but pivotal story of how this alternate reality's existence ties in with the other realities also pays loving acknowledgment to both the prime reality and the character responsible for its existence.

It made me wonder if perhaps the 2009 Star Trek film got some inspiration from this story in terms of how it both handled and acknowledged the two separate realities.  Just consider: Captain America is Spock...

Matt Murdoch, Fury's blind
freelancer.

We see both the characters and the historical conventions as they existed, but not quite the same as they were.  Matt Murdoch, blind and superhuman, is not Daredevil in this universe, but nevertheless plays the part with aplomb as Sir Nicholas Fury's go-to man.  The Spanish Inquisition, while it never hunted the witchbreeds that populate these pages, is still executing its historical charge of maintaining the status quo of those in power.  It's a surreal and breathtaking experience seeing each subversion each time it occurs, and one that can make you laugh, cock your eyebrows in disbelief, or in some cases, even shed a tear.

Gaiman also does a fantastic job of taking a measured approach to the heroes in this tale.  There aren't too many, and some fairly familiar faces do not show up in this tale, Iron Man being one big example.  Even Spider-Man, arguably Marvel's most iconic character, is downplayed as Peter Parquagh, Fury's assistant, in this tale.  Up until the last few panels of the story, you're left to wonder if that particular hero will even exist in this reality.  Again, the execution is unforgettable.

Artistically, this is a breathtaking story.  Andy Kubert's pencils, which are already nothing if not fantastic, are taken by Richard Isanove and digitally enhanced to give the artwork a finished, painted look that adds a visual flair to the fantastic narrative.  It really helps hold to the sense of magic and surrealism inherent in the story, and keeps you turning the pages to see what's coming next.  Excellent work!

Overall, I again find myself in the position of raving about Neil Gaiman's writing.  This was a story that made me laugh, kept me intrigued, and very nearly made me tear up towards the end.  Anyone who likes Marvel, likes historical fictions, or just likes good storytelling should check out Marvel 1602.  Gaiman, Kubert, and Isanove collaborate beautifully to bring us an epic masterpiece.  Highly, highly recommended.

GN Review -- The Sandman, v. 1: Preludes and Nocturnes / Neil Gaiman, Sam Kieth, Mike Dringenberg, and Malcolm Jones III

I'd been reading comics for years before finally making time to browse through the collected trades of Neil Gaiman's The Sandman, and in many ways, I'm glad I did.  Simply put, the frustration of having to wait every month for the next issue probably would have driven me crazy.  The fertile imagination of writer Neil Gaiman takes various elements of the DC universe and weaves them together into a mythology that transcends the conventional superhero comic book tropes while at the same time creating its own rich environment.

It's not the kind of thing you want to wait for.

The first volume, Preludes and Nocturnes, introduces the character of Dream, a very old, very powerful god, who is the living embodiment of dreams.  In the year 1916, he is bound and captured by an occult magician who was actually seeking Dream's sister, Death.  Held in captivity for seven decades, Dream finally escapes and must embark on a quest to find and  retrieve his objects of power, which were taken from him and sold by his earthly captors.

His search leads him back to the dreamworld, where the three weird sisters, the witches Hecatae tell him who last possessed his three objects of power.  He goes to England and enlists the help of John Constantine, who accompanies him to an ex-lover's house to retrieve the pouch of sand, which had wreaked horrific tragedy on her life with her addiction to it.  His next, considerably harder quest, takes him to Hell itself, where he must challenge one of its many demons for the return of his helmet.  Finally, he must return to earth, where he must confront the demented and psychopathic Doctor Destiny for the ruby that contains the largest share of his power, who has taken possession of it and uses it to torment and mutilate innocent people and to attempt to destroy Dream.

Neil Gaiman's gift for imaginative storytelling and mythological expansion is well known, and this initial set of stories shows why he's been so successful in just about any medium.  To say the scope of this story is epic, while fitting, doesn't seem to capture the depth of imagination I experienced while reading it.  Gaiman does an excellent job of creating his own mythology, and then connecting it to the existing mythos established by the DC Universe.  I'm not even that well-versed in DC's mythos--there are probably plenty of connections I've missed--but it's abundantly clear to me that there are many relationships he's established between the realm of his narrative and the larger one, however tenuous.

Artistically, there are a number of pencilers and corresponding styles, all of which evoke an otherworldly feel and support the ever-changing tone of the narrative.  Some of the stories are dramatic, some are horrific, and some are wonderfully cheerful.  All of the artwork goes to those places along with the writing, making for looks and setups that establish a diverse array of emotions, settings, and circumstances.

Overall, this is one of my favorite comic series of all time, written by one of my writing gods.  Gaiman isn't perfect, but he's a damn fine storyteller, and Preludes and Nocturnes demonstrates this amply.  The story is epic and otherworldly, the artwork is evocative and intriguing, and the feeling you get after reading this story is that this is one of the classics in modern storytelling.  Highly recommended.

GN Review -- Batman: Whatever Happened to the Caped Crusader? / Neil Gaiman & Andy Kubert

What would Batman's funeral be like, in the event that he actually did die?  Who would attend?  What would they say about him?  Would the stories match up, or would they all be accounts of a different man, a different person?  Neil Gaiman and Andy Kubert take a crack at a possible answer in their tribute to the Dark Knight, Batman: Whatever Happened to the Caped Crusader?

The story begins with the funeral-goers gathering for the deceased Batman's service.  Their ranks include friend and foe alike: Dick Grayson, Catwoman, Joker, Alfred, Harley, Commissioner Gordon, the Penguin, Poison Ivy, and so on.  As they gather to pay their respects, they tell stories of how he died, and it seems none of them is talking about the same Batman.  No one mentions the contradictions, though, and simply continue the service in respectful somberness.  Adding to the confusion is the disembodied presence of Bruce Wayne, watching the people from his various lives gather to tell these stories, wondering if he's actually, really dead and if this isn't another clever ploy by an enemy.  The stories told are different in scope, tone, and plot, but they all have one thing in common that makes Bruce realize instinctively that no one is lying: the Batman in all of their stories never gives up, never compromises himself or his brand of justice, never gives in, no matter what the situation.

Neil Gaiman is one writer you can always trust to have a unique perspective on a popular, well-loved mythology, and from the start of this story, you can tell that Batman has had a profound influence on him creatively.  In choosing to shed the specifics surrounding Batman's "one, true" off-panel death, he's using the setting of Batman's funeral as a stage to pay his respects to the various interpretations of Batman over his 70-year publication history.  It's a clever ploy, and one that is both entrancing and haunting in its exploration of the character's soul, as we see the various lives he's touched at various points, and how they, regardless of whether they liked him or not, were profoundly impacted by his existence.

If there's a criticism with this story, it's that it's lacking in particulars.  Batman's various stories and the deaths in them are of course conflicting accounts in terms of character, time, and place.  Things are therefore left with a very metaphysical, surrealistic feel that may come off as disappointing to anyone wanting a more concrete story.  This was all undoubtedly intentional, and I can understand Gaiman's desire to keep mum on the specifics in order to pay homage to all of the various interpretations of Batman over the years.  I can just also understand if other readers are more than a little turned off by it as well.

Art-wise, you generally don't get much better than Andy Kubert.  He had to not only draw a plethora of characters in Batman's extended family, but he also had to do varying interpretations of them in different eras.  He does a good job of this, and conveys emotion, clarity, and purpose to what could have otherwise been a rather muddled and perplexing story.

Overall, I'd say this was a decent story, and very typical of Neil Gaiman in its atypical-ness.  Anyone who enjoys his works will at least want to give Whatever Happened a read, as will Batman fans.  I'm not guaranteeing either will like it, particularly if you expect more traditional modes of storytelling, but for those with the patience for a more surreal experience, I think will find a loving and well written take on the Dark Knight mythos.  Recommended.