SIGNING ON FCBD

SIGNING ON FCBD

This Saturday, May 5th, 2012 is FREE COMIC BOOK DAY. (It's also the premiere of YOUNG JUSTICE: INVASION's second episode, "Earthlings", on Cartoon Network.) Victor Cook and I will be signing copies of issue #1 of MECHA-NATION (and whatever else gets stuck in front of us) at MELTDOWN COMICS from 12 noon to 2 pm.

Meltdown Comics
7522 Sunset Blvd.
Los Angeles, CA. 90046
http://www.meltcomics.com/blog/

So if you're in the neighborhood of Los Angeles, come on down. Check out the Mecha-Nation. We've completely finished the final issues of the mini-series, which will see print in time for ComicCon this summer in San Diego. (Mecha-Nation was created by Vic, developed by Vic, Greg Guler and myself, written by me, illustrated by Antonio Campo and published by Ape/Kizoic.) We're very excited to finally get this great project out to everyone. So stop by and take a peek. You can harass me about the time-skip (but please keep the language clean). Or you can just say hi. Plus, hey, Vic Cook!! The SpecSpidey partners together again!

Hope to see you there!

Sue Weisman 1910-2012

Earlier this week, my astounding grandmother, Sue Weisman, passed away just a couple weeks shy of her 102nd birthday.

She led an amazing life that saw the world change in amazing ways. There are hundreds of stories. Stories her of growing up on New York's lower east side with five older brothers, two younger sisters (all gone now) and the restaurant that her father owned and her Yiddish-speaking mother ran, stories of the three young girls in their pretty dresses driving back from New Jersey with liquor hidden under the seat. There are stories of her meeting and marrying my grandfather Aaron Weisman and moving to Chicago during the days of Frank Nitti, of whom she had - from personal experience - a very negative view. There are stories of moving to Los Angeles and Beverly Hills in the fifties. And stories of her over 40 years as a volunteer at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art.

But mostly, there are stories of her family: her three children, eight grandchildren and TWELVE great-grandchildren, not to mention numerous, spouses, nieces, nephews, cousins, etc. She was a most astounding matriarch, and she will be missed.

But the truth is she's been missed for quite some time. She was with us and WITH IT right through and past her 100th birthday. But in the months that followed, I firmly believe she decided she was done. Somewhere inside her, she flipped a switch and was gone, even though her physical body hadn't received the memo. She hasn't been herself in over a year, and her finally passing is, I believe, a blessing.

I think that's why it's taken me so long to write this. I'm trying to get my head around my LACK of response to this loss. Its hard not to think that there must be something wrong inside me not to feel worse - let alone... anything. Maybe it'll hit me later. The entire Weisman clan is gathering next week on what would have been her 102nd birthday, not to memorialize her but to celebrate her life. And I'm looking forward to it - even if (or maybe especially if) it results in the death finally hitting home. (Heck, I thought writing this might trigger something, but no.) Mostly, I think the culprit is that the mourning for me took place some time ago. It began when she made the decision to stop going to the theater with me and the kids. We had a subscription to A NOISE WITHIN, a classical theater company here in the Los Angeles area, and she enjoyed it thoroughly, even as her hearing deteriorated, making it increasingly difficult for her to follow what was going on. But I was still stunned when she chose not to accompany us any longer. And bits and pieces of her faded away from there. Our last real conversation was extremely frustrating for both of us. She thought I was my father, even though my father was sitting just a few seats away. And she kept asking me how "Sam" was - when none of the rest of us assembled could figure out WHO Sam was. Finally, something else she said finally made me realize she was talking about my son Benny. But even when I offered up that name, she didn't recognize it. At the very end, she couldn't recognize anyone. So perhaps I was overly prepared for this eventuality. Perhaps one day when I least expect it, it will knock me for a loop. But not today.

In the meantime, join me in celebrating a wonderful lady and a great broad: Sue Weisman.

LIVE PODCAST

Meant to post this days ago at ASK GREG, but I forgot. I'm being interviewed for a live podcast at http://www.blogtalkradio.com/123-film TODAY at 4pm PDT, i.e. in less than half an hour. Sorry for the lack of warning...

DICK GIORDANO, R.I.P.

Just over a week ago, Dick Giordano passed away. I've been meaning to write this ever since but haven't felt equal to the task. But it's time...

Dick was one of the all time great comic book inkers, but he was also the single individual most responsible for bringing me into the comic book business, which directly lead to me working in animation.

It's a story I've told many times, so feel free to skip down if you've heard it.

I was a nineteen-year-old college sophomore when Marvel Comics announced a New Talent Search. I was excited, but reasoned (correctly) that Marvel would be inundated with submissions. I also reasoned (rather cleverly) that if Marvel began a New Talent Search, DC Comics would too. So instead of preparing submissions based on Marvel characters, I immediately set to work, prepping stuff based on DC characters. Sure enough, DC announced it's search, and I immediately sent in my stuff. YEARS LATER, I saw the logbook that was used to log in each submission as it arrived. Mine was literally the second submission received.

It was duly logged in -- and then lost. (Likewise, years later, I found it in the DC offices in the back of a file cabinet.) DC still had my address in the log book. But not the submission itself. Because 70% of all submissions were artist submissions and only 30% were writer submissions, the person in charge of the talent search at the time took a chance and sent me a packet for new ARTISTS. I was OUTRAGED!!! Outraged, of course, in the way only a 19-year-old know-nothing can get outraged. So I sent a LETTER to DC Comics expressing my outrage. I said (lying) that I was a professional, and if they lost my submission, a simple admission of this fact would have resulted in me sending copies. There was no need to GUESS (incorrectly) that I was an artist and hope for the best. I stated that this was no way to run a business.

Somehow this letter found it's way to Dick Giordano's desk. Dick was at the time the EXECUTIVE EDITOR and head creative muckymuck at DC. Most guys in that position would have found a nice round file for my letter, but Dick was amused by it... and maybe a little impressed with (not the content) but the writing of it itself.

So sometime later, the phone in my dormroom rings. My roommate answers and says it's for me. "Who is it?" "Some guy named Dick Giordano." Now, I knew EXACTLY who Dick Giordano was and figured there was no way I was getting a call from him. So I got on the phone assuming it was one of my geek friends playing a prank. Nope. It was Dick. He wanted to meet me and asked if I had any plans to be in New York City. I (lied again and) told him that coincidentally, I was planning to be there over spring break. He invited me up to the DC Comics offices, and we set a date and time.

So I scraped the money together to buy a plane ticket, crashed at my cousin's apartment, put on a SUIT (what did I know, it was a job interview, right?) and headed out during a torrential Manhattan rainstorm to FIND A CAB to take me to DC. (Somewhere out there New Yorkers are laughing at the thought of me trying to find a cab in the rain.)

Ultimately, I found one, but not before I was (despite an umbrella) soaked to the bone in my stupid suit. I arrive at DC looking more like a drowned rat than a professional writer (which, of course, I was not), and met with Dick. And we hit it off. He was great. From Day One, he believed in me and tried to get me freelance work. He eventually gave me a job as an Editorial Assistant (read Xerox boy) and quickly promoted me twice over twenty-one months to Assistant Editor and then Associate Editor.

I was impatient, of course. I couldn't stick it out, and moved back to Los Angeles to go to grad school and eventually start a career in animation. I remember how disappointed Dick was. How he tried to get me to reconsider, but how he also supported my decision, when I made it clear it was final.

After that, every time Dick and his right-hand woman and good friend Pat Bastienne came to Los Angeles, they would take time out to meet with me. They met my fiancee Beth long before she became my wife. They were both always cheering me on. Eventually, Dick retired from DC and moved to Florida, and we lost touch. Which is on me. And I regret it.

When I heard/saw that he had passed at age 77 from complications from Leukemia (over the same weekend when my Grandmother turned 100), it was a real blow.

Dick was a terrific and extremely talented guy, and I owe him just... TONS.

Thank you, Dick. You will be missed.

Greg Weisman
April 2010