As I've said before, if it wasn't for Jack Kirby—who was born on August 28, 1917—there might not even be a comic book business today. Kirby's groundbreaking work with Joe Simon, Stan Lee and on his own continually defined, and redefined, what the medium could be.
Those of us working in this business today stand on the shoulders of giants—and Jack was the tallest of them all.
Today would have been Ray Bradbury's 99th birthday. (Read this post if you don't already know how exalted a place Ray B holds in my literary pantheon.) To celebrate, here's one of my absolute favorite audio adaptations of a Bradbury story: "Kaleidoscope"—from the brilliant public radio series Bradbury 13. Happy birthday, Ray! Your art continues to inspire and the strong beat of your open heart echoes on.
A gentle reminder that the collected edition of The Girl in the Bay will be on sale in August. Here's an interview—from October's New York ComicCon—where my talented collaborator, Corin Howell, and I talk about our twisty tale of time travel, doppelgängers and murder.
Moonshadow: The Definitive Edition hits comic book shops tomorrow, courtesy of Dark Horse and our devoted editor, Philip Simon. The book is a beautiful hardcover, with lots of extras that showcase the development of the series. I also wrote a new introduction for the collection and you can read it below. Enjoy!
In my early years in comics I blundered along, trying desperately to find my own voice as a writer and ending up sounding like a damaged clone, created from the mixed DNA of Stan Lee, Steve Gerber, Len Wein, Roy Thomas and half-a-dozen other comic book writers I admired. It’s not that my work was bad—I poured heart and soul into those stories and I’m gratified that my runs on Defenders and Captain America are still held in high regard—it’s just that I hadn’t found the way to fully express myself in the form. Looking back, I think I was trapped by the super-hero genre itself; unconsciously—and sometimes consciously—parroting stories and styles I’d been absorbing all my life.
Moonshadow changed that—and changed the course of my creative life in the process.
Someone (and for the life of me, I can’t remember who!) once said that whatever story you’re working on should be written as if it’s the only one you’ll ever tell:pouring all your thoughts, feelings, ideas, ideals, passions, philosophies, hopes and dreams—every iota of Who You Are—into it. That’s what I did with Moonshadow. It allowed me to step outside the Marvel-DC mindset and discover my own voice. Over the course of those twelve issues I stopped being a “comic book writer” and became a writer.
Of course it didn’t hurt that I was working with Jon J Muth, as brilliant an artist as the medium has ever seen. The magic of our collaboration became evident to me at our first face-to-face meeting.A mutual friend had given Jon a copy of my original Moonshadow proposal and the two of us met to discuss the project.He arrived at my house with some preliminary sketches based on what he’d read and, as I looked them over, profoundly impressed, I observed: “These are very Dickensian.” “Well,” Jon responded, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, “that’s what you wrote.”And, of course, it was—but the truth is that, despite the many Dickens-like touches in my outline, I never consciously realized the influence until Jon pointed it out!(Moon evolved into a series that allowed me to pay tribute to just about all of my literary heroes—from Dickens to Vonnegut, J.D. Salinger to William Blake, Dostoyevsky to Bradbury to L. Frank Baum.They were all standing over my shoulder as I wrote, encouraging me to find my own unique way of telling a story.)
Muth and I worked very closely:I have warm memories of going out to breakfast at a local diner, discussing the outline I’d just written; Jon doing layouts as we spoke, sometimes on napkins!We worked in a variety of ways over the next two years—Moonshadow was an untraditional story that required an untraditional approach—but always with a mutual respect, and mutual enthusiasm, that I think suffused the project.Jon’s painted pages—which ranged from brooding romanticism to delightful whimsy and back again—always challenged me, dared me to reach beyond my comfort zone and be better than I’d ever been. I hope my scripts did the same for him.
Some necessary acknowledgements:Jon and I had three wonderful editors watching our backs on the original Epic Comics series—Laurie Sutton, Margaret Clark and the late, great Archie Goodwin—all of whom allowed us to tell our story in exactly the way we wanted, providing tremendous support and encouragement throughout our entire run. (And let’s not forget Marvel Comics’ then editor-in-chief, Jim Shooter, who gave my oddball pitch his approval, then sent me over to Archie G.) We also have to tip our hats to our extraordinary letterer, Kevin Nowlan, and two equally-extraordinary artists, Kent Williams and George Pratt, who pitched in to help Jon on the original series when deadlines got tight.
When, a decade later, we jumped ship to my old friend Karen Berger’s DC imprint, Vertigo, we worked with incomparable editor Shelly Bond on our sequel story, Farewell, Moonshadow:a challenging blend of comics and prose—we didn’t want to go back to the same well and tell our story in the same way—that featured some of the most breathtaking art of Jon’s career.
The first issue of Moonshadow came out in January of 1985, which means that Moon, “Sunflower,” Ira, Frodo, the G’l-Doses, the Unkshuss family and all the rest are nearly thirty-five years old now. I thank them, the amazing Mr. Muth and all the readers who took that magical journey with us. Moonshadow transformed me as a writer, changing the course of my career, opening new doors of opportunity, and I am forever grateful.