Why Comics?
I don’t recall exactly how old I was when I discovered comics, but I do recall that it was when my father was in the army and was staying at my grandparents’ house while on leave, so I couldn’t have been more than 9 years old. In preparation for my visit, my grandmother pulled out some comics that my uncle had when he was a kid. There were maybe a dozen assorted titles, none of which I remember the names of. I don’t remember if I spent the whole weekend poring over them or if I gave them a disinterested glance and went outside to play, but I do remember seeing them for the first time.
The second time I encountered comics was at a friend’s house in 4th grade. We read comics; I enjoyed them, but there were no standouts that really spoke to me until…
1985. I was in 5th grade. That same friend and I went to a comic shop, and I saw the most dynamic cover I had seen up to that point. It was John Romita Jr. and Al Williamson’s cover for X-Men #203. The internet tells me it was Glynis Oliver, but I can’t verify if she colored the cover or just the interior. Whoever colored the cover deserves as much credit as Romita and Williamson for hooking my 10-year-old self because, along with a stellar cover layout, the stunning colors were what drew me to this particular book.
Once I read the story, I was completely hooked. The words penned by Chris Claremont leapt from the page straight into my brain thanks to the amazing lettering of Tom Orzechowski.
To this day, Claremont and Orzechowski are at the top of the list of my favorite comic book creators. If you know their work, you know why. Claremont wrote heartfelt personal stories about the family you choose and what it means to belong to a subculture while constantly delivering on the interpersonal relationships that made these characters seem more real than real life. This comic book was more of a soap opera with superpowers than a traditional superhero comic book. And Orzechowski brought depth and emotion with his masterfully nuanced lettering that to this day still blows my mind.
Looking back on it, over four decades later, I was powerless in the hands of these masterful creators. To say I was hooked would be the understatement of my lifetime. I was enthralled. I was smitten, I was addicted.
From that day forward, I read every X-Men comic and spin-off I could get my hands on. The art teams rotated, but Claremont and Orzechowski were consistent. Had I not picked up this particular X-Men book, I might not have continued reading comics at all. And my life would have gone in any number of other possible directions.
As I entered my teenage years, I began thinking of what I wanted to do when I grew up, and for me, there was no other option. I HAD to make comic books. I had to find a way to do so. There was nothing else that held a candle to the brilliant beacon of the creation of comic books.
To this date, I am grateful for the comics my grandma laid out for me, grateful for the comics my friend shared with me, grateful for X-Men #203, and grateful for making the right choice for my life and pursuing it at all costs, with reckless abandon, determination,l and tenacity. Besides my daughter, there is absolutely nothing that has brought me more joy in my life.
And THAT is why I make comics.