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You ever hear the argument that there needs to be more role models in comics for African-Americans, Asians, women, homosexuals, etc.? That part of the problem with mainstream comics is that it's so filled with Caucasian men that it's harder than it should be to draw in those other fans? That they look at those comics and say, "Where are the heroes that look like me?"

It was something I was aware of and understood, certainly, but speaking as a white male, I found it difficult to relate to. After all, most comic book heroes do look like me in that regard. But somehow, and I don't know what caused me to remember this, but my very first favorite superhero was Sun Boy from the Legion of the Super-Heroes. Not because I liked his powers, or he had a cool costume, but because he had red hair. Just like me.

I remember thinking as a kid that was kind of a silly notion. I really knew nothing about the character; he wasn't one of the big names in the Legion stories in the first place, and I didn't have very many Legion comics anyway. But he was the only hero that had red hair. In fact, the only other comic characters I knew that had red hair were Jimmy Olsen and Archie Andrews, and neither of them came across as particularly strong, positive characters. But, nonetheless, I still liked Sun Boy.

Eventually, I "graduated" to Marvel comics. I didn't see ANY redheads there, but the Human Torch had kind of similar powers to Sun Boy and the Torch remained my favorite characters for years.

At some point in the early/mid-1980s, my dad picked up some of the ElfQuest graphic novels. I read them in my free time, and was struck by everything about the story. And who stood out as my favorite character? Redlance.

To be fair, I felt more in touch with the only male lead character in ElfQuest (at the time) that was NOT a warrior but an artist, and I appreciated the kind of hippie vibe that he and his soulmate Nightfall had. But it was by no means lost on me that, of all the characters in the story, Redlance was the one who looked most like me.

A few decades on now, and my hair's gotten more of a dirty-strawberry-blonde look to it. And it's been getting peppered with white the past few years as well. Add on top of that a receding (receded?) hairline, and I really look nothing like those characters any more. Would I have still gotten into comics if I hadn't seen those ginger characters? Almost certainly. I may have gravitated towards some other characters -- maybe Clark Kent because he wore glasses or Spider-Man because he was picked on in school. But the further removed you are as a reader from feeling a connection with the character, the less likely you are to be involved. And in comics, that connection is going to be sparked, at least in part, by the character's visual appearance; it's the most easily and quickly read part of who they are.

While I always appreciated why people bemoan the lack of characters that "look like me", the sudden recollection of my early favorites makes it a lot more visceral. Maybe a trip through your own earliest comic memories might trigger a similar understanding.
By and large, I like just doing my own thing here on my blog and talking about whatever comics ephemera strikes my fancy, but it occurs to me (well, actually, I've known this for a while) that I have no clue what types of posts are well-received and welcome here, and what types of posts are generally ignored or even actively disliked. So, for the I think the first time since I've been running this blog, I'd like to ask what any readers out there think.

What types of posts do you most appreciate?
What types of posts do you least appreciate?
What subjects would you like to see me cover more of?
What subjects would you like to see me cover less of?
What types of posts do you think I excel at?
What types of posts do you think I'm horrible at?

Feel free to leave comments anonymously if you like. I'm just curious what my audience is like, not necessarily who they are. I'm just looking for feedback, positive or negative, so feel free to respond in any way you like. Thanks in advance!

Oh, and as an added bonus, I'd be interested to hear HOW you read my blog. Do you come to the site every day, read it through a feed reader, click on links from my Facebook account...? Just curious.
Somehow the day has gotten away from me, and I've still got plenty to do this evening. Since I haven't had a mash-up since March, I think I'm entitled for tonight even though it's everyone's least favorite part of my blog. As always, the rules are: Text from today's Garfield and art from today's webcomics. This round's contestants are...

The Devil's Panties


Wapsi Square

Music cue: BUM BUM BUMMMMM!!!!
I made my first web site in 1995. My girlfriend at the time was finishing up her last year of school and lived about five hours away, so I had loads of free time available. I learned that my ISP was providing some free web hosting and I spent my evenings learning HTML. Once I had a reasonable handle on it (recall that this was 1995; I learned just about all the coding that was available inside a week) it occurred to me that I had no idea what to do with it. I could make a web page, but to say what?

I first tried a vanity site about myself. It was kind of a cross between a MySpace page and a blog before either of those existed. All of it was hard-coded, and got about zero traffic because... well, who the hell was I? I then realized that I could use it to organize and store information about my favorite comic book, the Fantastic Four.

In late high school, I had started copying information about the FF into a three-ring binder. I had typed up a list of all the issues with creator and character info, I had photocopies of fan press articles, I had an initial draft of an issue chronology. Plus a checklist of what issues I was looking for. But after a few years, the binder was getting a little awkward and unwieldy, and the internet seemed like a perfect way to keep track of everything I was trying to keep track. So I put together an FF fan site.

It took a few months to get things together enough to call it a web site, as I recall. But I was really pleased with the result. As I was putting it together, I was able to include a lot of other things that weren't able to fit in my notebook. And I soon found a few other people who were attempting similar sites for the FF. Interestingly, we didn't have too much overlap in the specific material we were focusing on, but I know I got the sense there was a bit of a friendly rivalry among us to build the best FF web site. It wasn't long before my site was the largest, and eventually the others faded away as I kept building mine up. That was FFPlaza.com which has, since then, also gone defunct.

Somewhere during the site's 13-year run, I married that girlfriend I mentioned. Initially she thought it was good that I had a hobby that didn't revolve around sports and/or beer. But I think she grew to dislike it after several years of my working on the site. I don't know if there was anything else involved, but she voiced the idea that, if I was spending that much time on something, I should make some money at it. (Which kind of goes against the notion of "hobby" in the first place if you asked me, but I suspect that difference of opinion is at least partially speaks to why we got a divorce.)

I did actually make a bit off the site in later years. I sold some ad space, I was getting a small kickback from Amazon's affiliate program, I was selling bootleg copies of Roger Corman's FF movie on videotape... I never actually did the math, but I'm pretty sure I never technically came out in the black on my site. My problem, which I argued to her repeatedly, was that since the Fantastic Four were owned by Marvel, I was pretty limited in how I could make money from the venture. In fact, I eventually got a phone call from the lawyers at Marvel "asking" that I stop selling that bootleg video.

Plus, even if I branched out beyond the FF into the broader realm of "mainstream" comics, what would I do that I could earn money? I certainly wasn't talented enough to make comics professionally, and there were already a few solid news sites that I wouldn't be able to compete with, since they clearly had some personal connections in the industry. The best I could come up with was to write a book on comic book fandom, but I needed more practice writing and I needed to get my name out in comicdom beyond the small circle of FF and Marvel fans that knew of me. Enter, this blog.

My blog here makes very little money. A small kickback on Amazon sales, but that's it. But it has served to show that I know what I'm talking about, and worth hiring. I've gotten more than a couple paying gigs based, at least in part, on what I do here every day. And what's more: all the different comics writing gigs I have don't have much, if any, overlap. There's enough topics to cover WITHIN comics as a whole that I can maintain several different columns and my blog, without worrying about using the same material in two places.

Where I'm going with this is that if you follow your passions naturally and take advantage of opportunities as they arise, you're likely to do better than if you try to force your hobby to make money for you. Granted, I'm still working a day job to pay the bills and cover my health insurance, but I like where I'm at in the broad scope of comicdom. Especially since it still is just a hobby for me, and I'm not on the constant hunt to make money talking about something I love.
If you don't, he might get angry. And you wouldn't like David when he's angry.

Cheers, my friend; you can always count on me to dig up unflattering photos of you for public consumption! ;)
Marc-Oliver Frisch did an excellent job looking at the sales numbers from DC's New 52 project that started late last year. (Thank you, Marc-Oliver!) He goes through both volume and dollar sales comparing the relaunch event to the past decade (nearly; we only have consistent data back to 2003) and the past three years specifically. He sums things up like this...
The good news is that DC managed to boost and stabilize its line after a very tough couple of years. The bad news is that DC took its best shot and it bought them a reset to 2010, basically.
Now, it should come as no surprise to anyone that there was a big sales spike when the New 52 thing launched. A brand new reset of DC's entire line with no ties to past continuity and a slew of #1 issues meant that every issue of every title provided an easy, natural jumping-on point for any reader. And it should also come as no surprise to anyone that sales dropped pretty quickly afterwards. I know several people who bought every #1 issue to try them all out, fully aware that they would drop any/all titles that didn't strike their fancy within one issue. Maybe two. That's perfectly normal with #1s.

But, as Frisch points out, the overall landing point for DC is about where they were in 2010. Now, you could argue that Frisch is using average numbers and not specifics, so one particularly good or one particularly bad issue could skew your impression of the data. But I like the approach here because it points to the larger problem DC has, one that I pointed out when they announced the new Shazam: namely, they're just selling more stuff to the same audience without bringing on anyone new.

Think about that. The New 52 thing was HUGE for DC, and they got some solid, positive mainstream media coverage in the likes of the New York Times and Forbes. This was not something like "Avengers vs X-Men" which is kind of big hype within comic circles but largely ignored outside them. This is co-publisher Jim Lee being a guest on NPR! This is co-publisher Dan DiDio chatting with the Washington Post! We are talking about one of the biggest campaigns from a single publisher specifically for a comics line in years.

And nobody bothered with it.

Well, obviously, not "nobody." Comic fans gravitated towards it. And I expect a portion of those initial #1 sales were folks who did see/hear something in mainstream media. But if the overall numbers DC has now are pretty much the same as a couple years ago, even after all that hype, that suggests that all they did was stir up the pot of current comic fans a bit. Maybe they won some Marvel fans over. Maybe they got an "I only buy Batman" guy to pick up JLA as well. Maybe they got some current fan's girlfriend to try Wonder Woman. But, by and large, we're talking about people who were already going into comic shops. No one new. DC is taking the same pie and just slicing it a little differently.

Now, to be fair, the fact that non-comic fans didn't flock to New 52 likely has other factors involved. There are probably some people who were mildly interested, only to find out that there's no place that sells comics near them. Maybe they would've bought something if there was a place selling them on their way to the bus stop, but they're not THAT interested that they're going to go much out of their way.

Or worse, someone heard about it and found a comic shop. Only to find it one of the most skeevy, uncomfortable, intimidating stores they've ever walked into. Then they see Comic Book Guy leering at them from behind the counter and realize that Matt Groening wasn't exaggerating! Yeah, don't expect to see them ever again!

So, there's some blame to go over to distribution here, certainly, but I think the larger problem rests with DC. For all the new costumes and new continuity and new origins and new creators and everything else, all DC did was make some cosmetic changes. Their basic stories, their underlying themes are no different than they were a year ago. They're still basically all the same heroes doing all the same stuff for the same audience. And while that's great for current comics fans, that's lipstick on a pig for everyone else.

I'll leave you with this recent Little League comic from Yale Stewart.