Back when I worked in the Marvel Bullpen at 575 Madison Avenue, we all had to have nicknames. Stan “The Man” Lee dubbed me “Sparkling” Scott Edelman. And it’s all been downhill from there. Check out my four-color fantasies.

I started out editing magazines made out of dead trees more than 30 years ago. These days, I’m editing electronic bytes. But whether forged of paper or pixels, words still remain words.

Don’t touch that dial! Here come my televised works, as performed by the likes of Yeardley Smith, Jeff Conaway, Roy Dotrice, Mabel King, Larry Manetti and the Herculoids.

While we’re all celebrating the fact that the Comics Code is dead, here’s a document that takes me back to when it was very much alive. Let’s see how different things used to be, shall we?

Among the many facts we’re told by a July 20, 1976 newsletter put out by the Comics Magazine Association of America is that “there are now only about 400 wholesalers (against more than 700 not that long ago).” Horrors!

What else was new? “Veteran artist Joe Kubert has opened a school of Cartoon and Graphic Art, to train artists for comics, featuring a two-year course.” Wonder how that worked out?

Plus, “Publishers Weekly reports that sales of books in the first quarter of 1976 were better than in the first quarter of 1975.” (What? No info on how ebooks did during those years?)

Check out the whole thing below.

I wish I could remember courtesy of whose Twitter feed I found out about the 1881 book, The Agony Column of The Times: 1800-1870, because I’m finding it fascinating, and am very grateful.

The book (which I downloaded here) is filled with evidence of how little we’ve changed over the centuries, how people are filled with love and longing and loss (and hope, too!) whatever the year.

I’ve always enjoyed reading classified ads detailing missed connections of those who smiled at each other on the subway, passed in a supermarket, nodded in the street, and then went on, with no word spoken, and nothing exchanged but a dream that enflamed a regret. And so they placed an ad describing the encounter, hoping their possible future could be found.

All such ads I’d seen up until now have been contemporary, but here’s an example from just over 210 years ago.

A Gentlemen wrote to a Lady on December, 18, 1800:

If the lady who a Gentleman handed into her carriage from Covent Garden Theater, on Wednesday, the third of this month, will oblige the Advertiser with a line to Z. Z., Spring Garden Coffee House, saying if married or single, she will quiet the mind of a young Nobleman, who has tried, but in vain, to find the Lady. The carriage was ordered to Bond Street. The Lady may depend on honour and secrecy. Nothing but the most honourable interview is intended. The Lady was in mourning, and sufficiently cloathed to distinguish her for possessing every virtue and charm that man could desire in a female that he would make choice of for a Wife. Deception will be detected, as the Lady’s person can never be forgot.

Did he find her? Did she answer? And if she did answer, how did it go? We’ll never know, unless as I move forward through the book, I discover a follow-up notice.

Such poignancy can be beautiful. And heartbreaking.

As heartbreaking as stories without endings.

I know I was a pretty annoying comic book fan, as my previous posts easily prove. But I’d forgotten how annoying I was when I first became a comic book professional.

As a fan, I was always bothering the pros for sketches, autographs, and behind-the-scenes info. But once I became a pro myself, that pestering was instead directed toward the other pros who were now my bosses.

Pros like … Stan Lee.

I’ve been going through my stash of Marvel memos to pick out ones that might be useful to Sean Howe (who definitely needs a Marvel nickname), who’s writing a history of Marvel in the ’70s, and while doing this I came across one of my many suggestions to Stan. I had the bizarre idea that we could start a Dial-a-Superhero service than would allow fans to hear pre-recorded messages from Marvel’s greatest.

Check out my note to Stan below.

Stan’s response? Take a look.

He liked the idea, and asked me to see if I could make it happen.

I couldn’t.

Why? After all these years, I no longer remember whether I reached out to an existing company that already knew how to provide such services and was rebuffed, or if some other reason prevented the concept from coming together. But consider yourself lucky.

And if you think that was the craziest thing I ever suggested to Stan, well, all I can say is … you’ll see.

You’ll see.

February’s begun, and you know what that means—it’s time to gather in one place all the dreams I tweeted about during the month of January.

As usual, plenty of members of the convention-going crowd are included, but this month you’ll also find Conan O’Brien, Frank Sinatra, Marlon Brando, Martin Sheen, Richard Dreyfuss, and other unusual suspects.

Who knows? Maybe you’re in there, too!

JANUARY 2011

I dreamt I tried to help a drug addict on the subway by telling him how well rehab had worked for my sister-in-law. (Which is not true!) 30 Jan

I dreamt when I left the Syfy office, my elevator zoomed to a basement where I was tossed in a van because they suspected I was an alien. 30 Jan

I dreamt I visited American Idol, where Randy told me of the time he worked with my cousin Herb, and Ryan offered me a low-paying job. 30 Jan

I dreamt I was driven in a speeding car while trying not to spill an overfull bowl of matzoh ball soup delicately balanced on one knee. 30 Jan

I dreamt my father was upset because I visited FL on his birthday rather than my mother’s. (It didn’t bother me that he was suddenly alive.) 30 Jan

I dreamt I was woken by the rowdy singing of “When the Saints Go Marching In,” and looked outside to see a group of mourning AA members. 30 Jan

I dreamt I was a doglike alien creature in a pixelated video game world, cheerfully exploring — opening doors, looking under things, etc. 29 Jan

I dreamt I bought three extremely large almond croissants at a bakery. Together, they were so HUGE no bag was large enough to hold them. 29 Jan

I dreamt I was researching apartments rather than hotels for a long trip to Australia, and the cheapest I could find cost $8,000 per month. 29 Jan

I dreamt I bumped into Eric Van and David Shaw at Readercon, and was surprised to see them wearing identical wild, blinding, garish shirts. 28 Jan (more…)

The Horror Writers Association has released this year’s preliminary Stoker ballot. You can probably guess why I’m sharing that bit of news with you. (And if you can’t guess, then you’ll just have to keep reading to find out … )

You can see the complete preliminary ballot here, but what’s made my day is this—my zombie collection What Will Come After has made that ballot in the category of Superior Achievement in a Collection!

Now this doesn’t mean I can call myself a Stoker nominee yet. First, the membership must whittle down the following ten collections to the five that will make up the final ballot. So I’ve got a 50/50 chance.

OCCULTATION by Laird Barron (Night Shade Books)
BLOOD AND GRISTLE by Michael Louis Calvillo (Bad Moon Books)
THIS WAY TO EGRESS by Lawrence C. Connolly (Ash-Tree Press)
WHAT WILL COME AFTER by Scott Edelman (PS Publishing)
FULL DARK, NO STARS by Stephen King (Simon and Schuster)
LITTLE THINGS by John R. Little (Bad Moon Books)
A HELL OF A JOB by Michael McCarty (Damnation Books)
A HOST OF SHADOWS by Harry Shannon (Dark Regions Press)
FUNGUS OF THE HEART by Jeremy Shipp (Raw Dog (Screaming Press)
HELLFIRE AND DAMNATION by Connie Corcoran Wilson (Sam’s Dot)

Of course, those are some damned fine collections I’m competing against, so it’s hard to tell what my true odds are of making it through to the final ballot. But if you happen to be a Stoker voter, and would like a PDF of the book for consideration (a book which contains three stories that did make the final Stoker ballot in previous years), please let me know at scott@scottedelman.com.

Last March, I shared with you a Phantom sketch I got from Sy Barry on September 26, 1971 at a 75th anniversary celebration for the comic strip which was co-sponsored by the Newspaper Comics Council of New York and the New York Daily News. You may remember I also managed to get a sketch of Joe Palooka by Tony DiPreta.

I promised I’d someday post the picture of the crowd that ran in the paper the following day. A picture that included me. Well, someday is now.

Check out the crowd below. Click on the image as many times as it takes to make it as large as possible.

Can you spot me?

Need a hint? I’m wearing the same jacket you see me in here. And in the first image here as well.

Did that help? If not, you might as well give up and content yourself with a look below at the true stars of the day. (more…)

Of all the original comic book art auctioned recently by my wife and sister-in-law, this page is the jewel in the crown—a classic Deadman splash page by Neal Adams from Strange Adventures #208 (1968). Ellen has owned it for four decades, but now it’s time to let it go.

I don’t expect it to go cheap, but hey, you’re not cheap, right?

The bidding begins Feb. 7 over at Heritage Auction Galleries, so head on over there and check it out—and remember to return Feb. 7 to place that bid!