Back when I worked for Marvel Comics in the ’70s, the Dreaded Deadline Doom was (to steal a phrase Stan Lee often used in comics) wreaking havoc. Late writers and artists were resulting in thousands of dollars in penalty fees from the printer. And it was no fun for readers either, who wanted their comics on time. The only ones who benefited were beginning writers like me, who thanks to Marvel’s attempts to prevent those delays from messing up publishing schedules got to write fill-ins and back-ups.

That’s how I got to script issues of Master of Kung Fu and Omega the Unknown, as well as countless shorter stories, such as John Romita, Jr.’s first published piece.

But not every story I pitched or plotted made it to the page. Amazingly, there were a few, approved by editors, which were never turned in by the artists, creating their own Dreaded Deadline Doom. You wouldn’t think a new artist would blow a chance to get published by Marvel, but several did.

One pitch, however, meant for a fill-in issue of Marvel Team-Up, never made it to an artist, for it was presumably rejected. I have no memory of the circumstances, and only know that it was submitted on August 14, 1978 because that’s the date written on it.

As it’s the only Marvel method plot in existence for any of my published comics (none of my DC Comics full scripts survive either), I thought it worth sharing here to give some idea of how I worked back then, when I was 23 and still trying to figure out how to write comics. (And just in case it’s not obvious—the images below that I grabbed to break up the text here were not a part of my original proposal.)

And so …

Spider-Man’s Lonely Hearts Club Fans!

SPLASH: Spidey is swinging by the main branch of the New York City Post Office. His patrol is interrupted by a cry for help coming out of an upper window of the building.

THE STORY CONTINUES: Spidey-sense tingling, Spidey swings in the window. From inside we see a costumed goon with a futuristic gun on either side of the window. Spidey, still holding onto the webbing, does a split-kick, knocking each thug back off his feet. Spidey sees no sign of the person he’d heard cry for help just seconds before, and he thinks this odd. Spidey disarms the crooks with webbing and a tug. He grabs an empty mail sack and then, flipping over so that his feet are holding him to the ceiling directly above the two crooks’ heads. he grabs them by the scruff of their necks and stuffs them in the sack as they protest:

“Wait, Spider-Man, you don’t understand— ”

“I only understand that something wacky’s going on here!” says Spidey, as he holds the sack out the upper story window and begins questioning the crooks. Suddenly, from behind Spidey, a dry, cracked, withered, and shaking voice says:

“Stop that right now, y’hear, you young whippersnapper!” (more…)

The New York Times ran an article today about how artist John Romita Jr. was jumping from Marvel Comics over to DC to draw Superman, calling it “the equivalent of Derek Jeter leaving the Yankees to play for the Mets.”

I was touched to see that John mentioned me by name in the piece, repeating a comment of mine which he’s shared many times before. (more…)

Letters columns, when they exist at all in comics these days, are no longer what they once were—their importance has been supplanted by the Internet. They used to be where readers discovered they were not alone, and learned that their tribe was out there. It’s where we debated what we loved, found friends, formed fan clubs, and sometimes (as with Dave Cockrum and Andrea Kline) even met spouses.

But there was a time when Stan Lee, as the Marvel Universe was exploding, almost put the kibosh on all letter columns but one.

I imagine it must have been tough to keep up when all those superhero titles were launching, each requiring its own letters column. His solution—drop them, add the freed pages to the stories themselves, and answer all Marvel mail in the Fantastic Four.

In Spider-Man #7 (cover-dated December 1963), he asked readers if they thought this was a good idea.

Spider-Man #8 (January 1964) was way too early for Marvel to have received any letters, so Stan just asked for more feedback. (more…)

We all remember why Peter Parker decided that with great power came great responsibility, right? It’s because way back during his first appearance in Amazing Fantasy #15, Spider-Man decided that “from now on I just look out for Number One,” and let a common criminal get away …

… resulting in … well … you know how that decision turned out. Bye bye, Uncle Ben!

And it was all Peter’s fault.

But if you’d first encountered Spider-Man via his second appearance, you would have found a subtly different origin path. (more…)

Over the past week or so, I’ve shared scans of pages I found in a Marvel Bullpen file cabinet during the mid-’70s—so far, you’ve seen the X-Men, Captain America, Thor, the Sub-Mariner, Doctor Strange, and the Hulk—and along the way I mentioned I had a feeling based on the content that these were written no later than the mid-’60s.

Today’s sheet will give you more of an idea of why I think this. Take a look at Spider-Man and his supporting cast and tell me what you see.

Or rather … what you don’t see.

Well? Did you not see what I thought you might not see? (more…)

Remember my mysterious October mission? We’re almost at the end game.

As I told you back then, Irene decided to sell her copy of Amazing Fantasy #15. You know … the comic that introduced Spider-Man. She got some wild idea in her head that she should sock money away for our retirement so we’re not forced to eat cat food a few decades from now. Crazy, huh?

Anyway, if you’d like a shot at a beautiful copy of the book, Heritage will be auctioning hers off starting on February 3, 2012. Check out more details about the auction here.

If Amazing Fantasy #15 is too rich for your blood … (more…)

Steve Thompson, aware of my strong feelings about the paintings of Sharon Moody, alerted me to the comics-inspired art of Vin Vicini. Funny thing is, in spite of what could be seen as superficial similarities, the new images I saw didn’t bother me at all. So let’s take a look at a couple of Vicini’s paintings, and then I’ll explain why.

First, a 12″ x 12″ oil painting titled “Chapter 7: ‘Catch the Hero.'”

This first example includes details from the covers of Amazing Spider-Man #19 (December 1964), Batman #219 (February 1970), and Avengers #35 (December 1966), all of which I’ve rotated so you can more easily compare them to how they were used above.

Here’s one more, “Batman and the Crate,” an 11″ x 14″ oil painting. (more…)

I’ve always prided myself on knowing in my bones that it’s Spider-Man (with a hyphen) and Superman (without), and I recently gave somebody I know a smackdown for leaving out that all-important hyphen. But I see now that even Marvel itself got mixed up at first, as this page from Amazing Fantasy #15 (Spidey’s debut, remember?) proves.

The third paragraph refers to the web-slinger not just as “Spiderman,” but as “The Spiderman”—something that as a former Marvel Comics proofreader makes my skin crawl!

I’m pretty sure this wasn’t the last time Marvel messed up … but at least now I understand why others might get it wrong, too.

I created my earliest fiction (well, save for the lies I told my parents) somewhere between age 8 and 11. And the story I wrote was an adventure I couldn’t then get from comic books; not because it couldn’t be done, but because comics hadn’t yet evolved to the point where the corporate entities had the will to do it. It starred all of the Marvel and DC heroes of the day in an epic melee, battling across company lines. Because that was a fannish dream—to erase the boundaries between Marvel and DC and put those heroes and villains in one big playground.

I’d have to wait until 1976 to see the real thing, in the first ever company crossover, Superman vs. The Amazing Spider-Man, written by Gerry Conway.

One of the many documents I’ve been saving since my days in the Marvel Bullpen has been a photocopy of Gerry’s original Marvel-style plot for the book. I haven’t bothered sharing this synopsis online up until now because I was sure someone else must surely have already done it. But an Internet search, as well as a survey of those who ought to know, revealed to me that no one’s ever posted the following outline of Superman vs. The Amazing Spider-Man before.

And so—because information wants to be free—check out something I’ve been lugging around in a file folder for more than three decades. Enjoy another taste of behind-the-scenes secret history.

With my birthday at the other end of this month—why, it’s exactly four weeks from today!—I know you’re wracking your brain trying to figure out exactly what to get me to celebrate the date. Well, wrack no further, because over on eBay, I’ve located the perfect gift.

Back in 1994, just two months before his death, Jack Kirby recreated his original cover for Amazing Fantasy #15 (first published in 1962), and that beautiful penciled artwork is now up for sale. The asking price is a mere $60,000. And I know that when it comes to showing your love for me, cost is no object.

Don’t worry. If a couple of you feel you need to chip in together, I won’t hold it against you.