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…)

Way back in 2008, I shared with you some Scarecrow artwork which had never been seen in U.S., since it had been created specifically for Marvel’s mid-70s’ British reprint books. But it turns out there was another piece I didn’t know about. Or rather, according to the artist, I’d known about it but had forgotten.

Andrew John Standish uploaded this post to Facebook yesterday, created by penciller Howard Bender and inker Duffy Vohland.

This originally appeared in Super Spider-Man and the Titans #216 (cover-dated March 30, 1977). As to why I have no memory of this, I imagine it’s because there was no actual Scarecrow story published in that issue, only the poster, so I never received a contributor copy.

Howard was surprised I didn’t remember it, though, because he tells me that he and Duffy showed it to me before it was published.

To which I say—hey, that was 37 years ago!

Thanks for digging this up, Andrew!

So I was on the way home from Fort Lauderdale, where I’d spent a couple of weeks helping my mother pack and move (the details of which are a tale for another time), when I spotted a guy at the airport walking quickly by while wearing a T-shirt emblazoned with the face of a mustachioed man chomping a cigar.

I pointed at his chest as he passed and asked, “Stan Lee?”

“No,” he said, followed by him revealing who it really was, which I heard as “Ditko.”

“Ditko?” I asked, surprised. “Steve Ditko?”

“No,” he answered, baffled by my cluelessness. “Coach Ditka.”

And thus do two fans confuse each other!

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…)

Over at eBay, someone just picked up a bound volume of Incredible Hulk 167-182 which had my name embossed on the cover in gold. (The cognoscenti among you will recognize that run as including the origin of Wolverine.) And he wondered … what’s up with that?

I’ve only been asked about this sort of thing once before, by someone who wanted to know whether receiving bound volumes of comics was a perk regularly given to Marvel Bullpenners in the ’70s. (As if!)

So why does this artifact exist? The short answer is … it seemed like a good idea at the time. (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…)

As you may or may not know, I turned from being a comics fan to being a comics pro (though I did not leave my faanishness behind) the day I started on staff at Marvel Comics editing its line of British reprint books. That day was June 24, 1974, by the way, so we’re creeping up on the 40th anniversary of my transition.

My two main responsibilities were writing a version of the Bullpen Bulletins pages for those weekly magazines, as well as creating new splash pages when Marvel’s U.S. books were sliced and diced for reprint. To explain— (more…)

As I flipped through the March 2014 issue of Marvel Previews late last night—which I’d downloaded to my iPad, as that’s how I do most of my comics reading these days—I came across a listing for the upcoming Marvel Masterworks: Captain Marvel Volume 5, which will include my seven-issue run on that title.

Made my heart glad to see those comics getting renewed life. Back when I wrote them, I’d never have dreamed they’d be reprinted in a hardcover book.

If you ever wanted to get your hands on those issues without having to pore through the ’70s bins at your local comics shop, now’s your chance!

Because my seven-issue run on Captain Marvel will soon be reprinted as part of a Marvel Masterworks edition, I pulled out the original art I’d received for having written those issues. I don’t recall the full details of what share of the finished art the penciller and inker received, but I ended up with two pages per book. And sometimes the backs of those pages are as interesting as the fronts.

On the flip side of page 10 from issue #49—the first issue I wrote—is a rough pencil sketch of the villain The Cheetah.

I assume the sketch is by Al Milgrom, the penciller for that issue. Here’s what the character looks like inked and in color, as seen from his introduction on the cover of Captain Marvel #48, which is the previous issue. (more…)

Sean Howe, author of the wonderful Marvel Comics: The Untold Story, uploaded a recording to YouTube today of Stan Lee speaking at Princeton in March 1966.

There’s a ton of fun stuff you’ll want to hear, such as the boos that erupted when Stan mentioned Steve Ditko’s departure from Marvel and the cheers that arose when he brought up the Silver Surfer.

Plus there’s plenty of ammo for Steve Ditko and Jack Kirby partisans, such as when Stan called Ditko a “peculiar guy” who’s “a little eccentric,” and said that he hadn’t “spoken to this guy for over a year,” or when he talked about how surprised he was when the Silver Surfer turned up in the Fantastic Four, an event which had caused Stan to ask, “Who’s this naked nut running around?”

But what most piqued my interest, and caused me to consider a question I should have asked long ago but for some reason never thought to, was Stan’s explanation of the Marvel method, which begins at the 17:35 mark.

(And don’t worry—the audio quality picks up after the first few minutes.) (more…)