The cover image here is the first variant cover from The Fantastic Four and I think it might be the first variant cover from Marvel. Although it wasn't an intentional one!

The story, from 1971, is fairly unremarkable relative to other issues for a good stretch both before and after it. Stan Lee had been writing the series for a full decade at that point, and John Buscema had several issues under his belt after Jack Kirby left* and would continue on for a few years afterwards. There are no new charaters introduced, nor are any storylines started or wrapped up. It's not a bad story, by any means, but it's largely unremarkable relative to any other given post-Kirby FF.

Except for the cover.

Fantastic Four #110 was produced in exactly the same way every other issue was produced. Lee provided a general outline to Buscema. Buscema created the story and drew the art. Lee came back and added dialogue. It went to Joe Sinnott to ink, and one of the "house" letterers to letter. (In this case, Mike Stevens.) Then the whole ball of wax got shipped off to the printers to do a print run of 250,000 or so.

Quick lesson in printing. You know how your ink jet printer has four cartridges of ink, right? Black, yellow, blue (cyan) and pink (magenta). Those four colors are used because when they're mixed in the right quantities, you can produce an incredibly wide range of colors. Professional printers who print comics use the same colors. The difference is that back in 1971, instead of being controlled by a computer, the colors were controlled by hand. There would be a person who had to take a copy of the artwork, and physically cut out all the bits that required each color. They would end up with four pieces of art: one containing just the black parts, one containing just the yellow parts, one containing just the cyan parts, and one containing just the magenta parts.

Then, a printer would create a metal plate based on each piece of art. These plates are kind of like rubber stamps, but just made out of (usually) aluminum. The image is reversed, then coated with ink and pressed onto a piece of paper. So when you coat the four images with four different inks, and press them onto the same piece of paper, you get a colored image!

Now, what happened to FF #110 is that the cyan and magenta plates got mixed up for the cover. So everything that was supposed be blue was printed using magenta ink, and everything pink was printed with cyan ink. Consequently, we see the FF in pink uniforms, and the orange of the Thing (remember your old color wheel? yellow + red = orange) now looks green (the "red" of that equation was replaced with "blue").

The issues were shipped out before the problem was noticed. Which means there were over 200,000 of these floating around at one point. Marvel issued a recall, and had corrected issues shipped out (I'm sure at the printer's cost, since it was their fault) but not before a good number of the error version had sold. And while we weren't really into the direct market system quite yet, there were no doubt people who had begun speculating on the market, and deliberately held onto their copies without sending them back to get pulped. So these days, they're not exactly common, but not terribly hard to find either.

So the next time someone talks about some exclusive variant cover they picked up at a convention, you can pull this bad boy out and tell them you've got the original variant cover!
* Yes, I know John Romita did a few issues between Kirby and Buscema, despite the implication my phrasing above implies. There just wasn't a smooth way to add in Romita's contribution there, and it wasn't really relevant to my point anyway.

The image you see attached to this post is a full-page house ad for First Comics that ran in late 1984/early 1985. Obviously, there's some amount of hyperbole involved, but I suspect that even setting that aside, most comics fans would point to 1986 as the year where everything you know about comics changed completely. After all, 1986 saw the publication of Watchmen, The Dark Knight Returns, and the first collection of Maus. The difference between those books and what's being touted by First is in the type of change they're instigating, which is why this Feburary 28, 1985 is mostly forgotten.

See, the changes brought about in 1986 were in the storytelling. Functionally, those books were produced in pretty much exactly the same manner as any other comics at that time. The differences were all about the content -- the part of comics that readers engage with most directly and viscerally. What changed with First was a technological change, one that was evident on the printed page, but becasue was such a different approach, many readers couldn't really grasp the implications.

The book the First ad is talking about was Mike Saenz's Shatter, "the first computerized comic." There were a lot of technical limitations at the time. Drawing programs didn't go higher than 72 dpi, hence the very pixelated look. Only a dozen or so fonts were available AT ALL, so all the text looks blocky and utilitarian. I've talked about the book more extensively before, so I won't go into things again here. But what I find interesting here in particular is how First could see where things were headed... but they were just way too early in their prediction of how/when it would change.

It would be almost another decade before computerized lettering started to become adopted as an industry standard. And those efforts originally consisted of doing up the word balloons digitially... and then printing them out to physically paste onto the art boards. There were a couple graphic novels with digital art, but the next regular comic I saw that used it was in the back half of the '90s when they could finally use vector art. (Oddjob was by Ian Smith and Tyson Smith, and came out from Slave Labor Graphics starting in 1999.) It would be another decade or so of artists scanning their pencil art before digital tablets started to become sophisticated enough to adopt as regular production tools.

What I find interesting, then, is that this ad from 1984 was indeed right... they were only off on their timing by a couple decades. Which is enough time for most people to have forgotten about it.

One of the news items over the weekend was that Comix Wellspring -- a popular printer among independent creators and publishers for several years -- has suddenly shut down. Temporarily. Maybe. A message on the company's home page says, "We sincerely apologize, but due to unforeseen operational challenges, Comix Wellspring, owned and operated by Carta Finishing, must temporarily suspend accepting new orders and halt production at this time." They don't offer any further explanation, only to go on to suggest alternative options for customers. So what's going on? Do they offer any clues?

Well, the first thing they say after that opening statement is that any currently incomplete orders will be fully refunded. Which means that they're not having money problems, because they've got the cash on-hand to offer that. If there were debt issues or somethng, any incoming money from the past several months would've gone immediately to pay off whatever debts had already accumulated and they wouldn't be able to make refunds immediately and unconditionally.

They also suggest another printer, Greko Printing, for any future projects. While suggesting an alternative route seems straight-forward enough, Greko Printing was founded by one of the founders of Comix Wellspring and when he left to do so, he signed a non-compete agreement saying he would not print comic books. Non-competes are a fairly standard (if somewhat dubious) practice in those types of situations and that Comix Wellspring went out of their way to negate the existing agreement for the sake of its customers says that this shut down is not going to be short-lived. I'd go so far as to say that it suggests they don't expect to be back in operation ever.

The "unforeseen" part of their "unforeseen operational challenges" seems significant. The company launched a completely overhaulded version of their site for placing orders and such just two months ago; that's not a change they'd undertake if they knew they'd be shutting down soon. Indeed, they had been touting the upgrade for months and just before launching it, they posted a message that said, "THIS is the next era of Comix Wellspring." They were very much planning for the future, and trying to offer more capabilities and services to their customers.

I'm wondering if there's something higher up the chain. The announcement refers to being owned by Carta Finishing. Carta is a relatively new company, coming together in late 2023 when Gatherall Bindery and Allied Bindery merged. Comix Wellspring was wrapped in around the same time. Dan Hills (pictured at right) was promoted up to the CEO role from CMO in March 2024; however, interestingly, his LinkedIn profile includes an end date as CEO -- and with Comix Wellspring entirely -- of June 2026.

So is Hills' departure the cause of this shut-down? Nominally, yes, it would seem so. But I think there's more to it than, "we can't run our day-to-day operations without a CEO." Hills attended the ComicsPRO meeting back about four months ago, and his posts seemed excited about it. The last full interview I can find with him dates to November, and he seemed pretty excited about comics and the company then as well. So it doesn't seem to me like he was feeling burnt out -- although that could indeed be hidden relativey easily online. And besides, if that were the extent of the issue (although, to be clear, burn-out is not a small issue for the individual; I'm talking about this relative to Comix Wellspring as a whole shutting down) Carta Finishing could appoint an interim CEO either from within Comix Wellspring itself or from Carta just to make sure things keep rolling. Because a full shut-down, even if it is only temporary, is an extremely drastic step for a company, and not one that would be undertaken casually. Indeed, as Chief Operating Officer, Brian Thomas could keep the presses running in the short term with no problem; even though he was only promoted to that position in February, he's got a decades long professional history in leadership roles just like that.

This, to me, points to a larger issue. I don't have any evidence of what went on here, but frequently when a CEO steps away like that, it's because of a significant conflict with the parent company. That the larger company made some decision(s) the CEO fundamentally disagreed with, fought against, and ultimately got over-ruled on. Leading to the CEO resigning (or being forced out) in protest. In the past, I've most often seen this when the larger company tries to fully absorb the smaller one causing it to shut down or when they plan to make some significant layoffs to reduce "redundant" operations. (Think along the lines of, "Why do we need two HR departments?") So the sudden shut-down of Comix Wellspring could be a response to Hills' departure where Carta might say, "Well, if there's no CEO anyway, let's just accelerate our schedule to absorb the whole company rather than try to waste time to put a new CEO in place just for a few months or a year."

Like I said, I don't have any hard evidence of what went/is going on. But Hills' sudden -- and quiet -- departure almost immediately before this current shut-down took place strongly suggests to me something like the above. (The notion of Carta absorbing the company fully is 100% speculative, just based on what I've seen historically. It could also be something like Carta trying to force Comix Wellspring to print pro-Nazi comics that Hills personally objected to on ethical grounds. That type of thing does happen, but it's pretty rare in my experience.) The only other thing I can think of would be if there were some massive legal problems with Hills personally (like, at a felony level) but I suspect that we would've heard news of that already separately, and that wouldn't so significantly impact Comix Wellspring's day-to-day operations. With the company having halted all operations already, and the CEO already departed, I suspect we won't hear much else formally though. Maybe Hills or Thomas will drop a tell-all blog post about it a couple years from now, but I think most people will have forgotten all about it by then.

In the meantime, my best wishes to whoever's left at Comix Wellspring. I don't doubt things feel extremly unstable and chaotic for you, and I hope you're able to land on your feet.

Here are this week's links to what I've had published recently...

Kleefeld on Comics: Tom Hanks Is an OG FF Fan
https://ift.tt/NsZJgB2

Kleefeld on Comics: The Fantastic Four's Chest Emblem
https://ift.tt/K5wmqv3

Kleefeld on Comics: Nap Time
https://ift.tt/mOGk7Jn

Kleefeld on Comics: Political Speech Now Illegal
https://ift.tt/RAjGYtC

Kleefeld on Comics: Steranko Histories
https://ift.tt/cbtCFwm

Even if you haven't read them, you've probably at least heard of Jim Steranko's History of Comics. It was one of the first serious attempts to write down the entire history of the medium, and certainly the first from someone already in the business. Steranko's position as a respected professional allowed him access to a number of creators who had worked during the Golden Age of comics. The covers of the two completed issues are rather famous in and of themselves for depicting a fairly wide range of characters from several publishers.

Less well known is that there are actually four different covers between the two issues... As you can see, two of the covers feature no text at all, while the others sport the title prominently across the top. The interiors are unchanged, so you might call these variant covers. (Though they certainly weren't called that at the time.)

Although I've seen the titled versions labeled as "1A" and "2A", I believe that to be incorrect. "Misleading" might be a better word. When I had Steranko sign my (logo-less) copies, he noted that the wordless versions were a little more rare because he initially had underestimated demand. The implication being that they came out first, with the titled version being done as a later iteration. I've seen notes from others who got them when they were first published also say that the wordless versions came out first with the titled copies being, in effect, second printings. This is further backed up by the logo-less versions frequently commanding a higher price. (Although, to be fair, a higher price doesn't necessarily mean greater rarity, just greater demand relative to supply. It's possible that fans just like the wordless version better because there's nothing disrupting the illustrations.)

Further, if you look at the layouts, the illustrations are lowered on the page to accomodate the title. In doing so, several of the characters are uncomfortably cut off -- most notably Joker on #1; and Thing, Hulk, and Hawkman on #2. Not only does it seem unlikely that Steranko would add all of the extra figure work on the logo-less copies, but if he drew the illustration with a title in mind, why would he have placed those figures so low on the page that they might be chopped in half? From a design perspective, it makes more sense that the titled versions came later.

If you are trying to track down copies of these, you should be buying them for the content. I found them surprisingly dryly written, though they are incredibly informative. Even today, with literally hundreds of history books written about comics, they still have a great deal to offer. But if, in tracking these down, you find yourself wondering why there are some copies with a title and some without and what the difference is, it boils down to whether you're looking at a first or second printing, although it won't say that on the interior anywhere.

Go read this news piece that The Beat posted yesterday...

Zines used as evidence to convict in Prairieland case

I mostly just want bring more attention to this matter, so I don't have a lot to add. The first thing I'll note, though, is that there is by definition no such thing as an "antifa cell." Anitfa is not a group of any sort; it's just anyone who is against facism. That's it. Literally by definition. Anti-Facism. Anti-Fa. And I will also say: the article concludes with the quote, “The slippery slope from anarchist zines to conventional journalism isn’t hypothetical, and we’re already sliding fast.” I would argue that we've already slid.

Today's Andy Capp...

A more or less standard type of gag for the strip. Very much into character with Andy being lazy on the couch, and Flo offerring snide commentary. What occurs to me, though, is that Andy always sleeps on the couch that way. Kind of curled up a bit, with his head facing into the couch. He doesn't sleep on his back or facing out away from the couch.

That's actually pretty much par for the course with comic strip characters. Here's Blondie from Saturday...

La Cucaracha from a week ago...

The "classic" depiction of comic strip napping is: kind of curled up a bit, facing into the couch.

You ever try to actually nap that way? Personally, I find it one of the least comfortable ways to sleep on a couch. I'm sure some people find it more comfortable than others, and the level of comfort surely depends a great deal on the specific couch you're talking about too. But why that pose? Why not any of the dozens of other ways you can nap on a couch?

Well, for starters, not every time someone is depicted napping is shown in this way. Sometimes they're sitting upright with their head tilted forward. Sometimes, they're just kind of sprawled over the entire couch. It depends on the situation and, more to the point, to showcase WHY the character is napping.

If you're sitting upright on the couch with your head tilted forward while you sleep, you got that way because you sat down to read or watch TV or something and just nodded off. Perhaps a bit of exhaustion, perhaps a bit of your body forcing itself to relax. But generally, it's not your intention to fall asleep. And that sprawled out pose? That is just pure exhaustion. You collapsed on the couch, and your entire body shut down without regard to how comfortable you are.

But curled up, facing the couch? That's intentional. That's a pose that says, "I am deliberately trying to shut out the world." The Blondie strip above specifically speaks to that idea; Dagwood is NOT asleep, but he's actively trying to ignore the children. He's literally turned his back to them, and even if he opens his eyes, his field of vision would entirely consist of the back of the couch. He's curled up to make himself as physically inaccessible as possible. Andy and Ernesto above are also both not entirely asleep as Andy is talking with Flo and Ernesto is consciously considering what is going on in his subconscious. In none of these strips are the characters successful in shutting out the world, but that IS their intent.

I can't point to exactly when this became the default pose for comic strip naps. Doing a fairly quick search, I've managed to find a Blondie strip dating back to 1944 showing Dagwood on exactly that same couch, though...

I think it's a safe bet that this isn't the first time Chic Young used that visual structure; he's very clearly already comfortable drawing it here. So I'm sure there are earlier Blondie examples if nowhere else. Regardless of who started that trope, though, there is a solid reason for it. And there's a solid reason it continues to get used a century later. That single pose immediately tells the reader not only that a character is napping, but also WHY they're napping.