This past weekend, I did something that I very rarely, if ever, do. I bought a box (a whole box!) of comics.
At a local flea market I found myself flipping through a single long box
sitting below a vendor's table. I'd been disappointed with this trip to
the Hillhurst-Sunnyside Community Centre, as this was the only box of
cheap comics (and actually the only cheap comics, period) that I could
find. There was one other vendor selling key Silver Age issues at guide
prices, but no other "dollar bins." This particular one had quite a few
issues of the latter bits of Avengers v.1, issues up in the 300s,
which is the section of that series that I'm currently in the process
of tracking down. So I'd decided to pick up a few, maybe $10 worth, when
the lady behind the table said she'd do a good deal on the whole box. I
considered for a few long moments, and then asked what kind of deal.
She said $50 for the whole thing. Again, a few long moments passed, and
then I agreed. I dashed to the ATM, got another $40 out, and left with a
box of comics.
I've spent the last 4 days going through, databasing, bagging, boarding,
removing duplicates. In the end, doubles included, there were 228
comics, which very roughly breaks down to 22 cents per issue. I think I
did alright there.
Up above, there, you can see the collection laid out after I got home.
The stacks of comics are all issues from the same, or similar, series.
Thus, the Avengers pile is all Avengers. The Archie Comics
pile is all Archie Comics (the only bit I haven't finished cataloging
quite yet). I bought the collection primarily on the strength of the
number of Avengers comics in it, though, of all the runs in the
box, that was the one that produced the most duplicates. It was, in
fact, the stuff that I initially dismissed as "filler" that turned out
to be the gold amongst the dross (yep, I'm looking squarely at that
enhanced cover Silver Sable #1 from the 90s).
Up in the top left corner there is a pile of The Official Handbook of the Marvel Universe,
both initial and deluxe editions. I love these encyclopedias, so it was
a nice treat to get them. I'm also in the process of tracking down
duplicate issues of each one so I can remove the covers and use them as
posters. There were a few doubles in that pile, but mostly it was new
stuff. The large pile of Archie comics is mostly mid to late 80s. Betty
and Veronica's fashion sense was, in a word, atrocious in that era. I
remember living through those fashions, both the first time and in the
ill-advised 80s revival that seemed to take the world by storm a few
years back.
Next to the Archies is the pile of comics I was most surprised by. It's an almost complete run of Marvel Two-In-One, Marvel's
solo title for The Thing, from #80 to #100. I had little to no interest
in this run, written predominantly by Tom DeFalco, who I immediately
associate with the deplorable Clone Saga. But, as my impetus for the 40 Years of Comics Project had it, I shouldn't automatically assume that a
comic is bad having not read it. I did read a few of these issues (once
I'm done with Age of Ultron, I'm going to devote a few weeks to
the stuff in this collection), and I have to say I was pleasantly
surprised. In particular, issue #86, and the story "Time Runs Like
Sand," now ranks as one of my favourite comics ever. I'll re-read it and
blog it next week some time.
There was also some late-era Fantastic Four v.1 in the box,
which, again, I had little interest in, until I realized that it
encompasses the majority of Walt Simonson's run on the title that I have
been meaning to read for quite a few years now. So I'll chalk that up
as a win too.
Before I talk about the other piles, I'll note that there were, as you
can see, a number of individual issues of various comics. The ones I've
read (Guardians of the Galaxy, Silver Sable) were pretty unremarkable, which is probably why whoever bought these in the first place didn't get any more.
I've already noted the Avengers comics as being the most important, at least from a collecting viewpoint, in the lot. Most of the pile of Superboy
were duplicates, and in truly terrible shape. That version of the
character was never one I had that much interest in, though the "Zero
Hour" tie-in issue does feature the old, pre-Crisis Superboy, so that should be interesting. One thing I will note about the Avengers
comics is that they included full runs of both Walt Simonson and John
Byrne's tenures as writers on the title, both quite short, but probably
pretty good.
The last little bit is that pile of Marvel Age comics, a good 30
of them in sequential order. This might seem a low point to end the
assessment of the collection on, until one realizes that, by and large,
these are comics that have never been reprinted. That is, of course,
because the series functioned as a news magazine, and only included the
occasional sequential strip (Fred Hembeck's center pages
notwithstanding). What they do contain, however, is a chronological
recounting of the events of each year of Marvel Comics narratives in the
"Marvel Age" feature at the end of each issue. The earliest one I have
starts in 1973, more than a decade after the "Age" begins. The articles
are fantastic for the fact that rather than recounting publication
history, they actually tell the fictional histories of the characters. I
envision this as a scanning-and-sharing/cataloging project for the
future. There's also occasional exclusive comics (like the Kirby/Stern
piece that graces Marvel Age Annual #2, or the Shadowline summary from Annual
#4) and the aforementioned Hembeck work, which I'm assuming has been
reprinted somewhere, but maybe hasn't. Add to this the occasional
article about the workings of the company, faux Daily Bugles, and
such, and it's actually a pretty great find. Not one that I ever would
have gone out of my way for, but pretty great nonetheless.
And that's it. As I said, I don't buy collections like this very often,
due to both space and financial constraints, but I felt like treating
myself on the weekend, and it turned out to be more of a treat than I'd
expected. Look for some examples of what was in the collection over the
next couple of weeks of the 40 Years project.
Showing posts with label crosspost. Show all posts
Showing posts with label crosspost. Show all posts
Wednesday, January 13, 2016
Monday, December 28, 2015
Saturday, November 28, 2015
The 40 Years of Comics Project: Weird Metadata Post #3 (Crosspost from "Giant Box of Comics")
Apparently my database software can make graphs. This is endlessly amusing for me, and I'm going to share them with you.
Not all of my comics have all of the same data entered in the database. Some stories don't have titles, for instance. Or the writer and artist may not have been recorded in the comic. But most have Cover Years. It makes sense that 2001 and 2002 are the most represented, as that's when I had my store. But 1987 comes in after that, my X-Men, Avengers, Animal Man, didn't have to pay for my own food days.
Ha. Animal Man is the only character who makes enough appearances through the database to merit mention. What this actually says is that I was far more caring about keeping track of my Animal Man appearances than any other character in the collection. This'll be an interesting graph to run once all of the comics are properly indexed.
No surprise which genre wins out in my collection. That Adventure comes in second is interesting. I wouldn't necessarily characterize a lot of what I've got as Adventure, though I suppose that term can be applied quite widely.
As with the genre list, no surprises for the top place for writers. I suppose that Chris Claremont is the third-highest representation has something to do with the aforementioned 1987 collection. It would be interesting to find a year, and read only comics from that year for a year.
One last one for today. For publishers, the top two aren't much of a surprise. Actually, none of the top ones really are, simply for the fact that they can handle the kind of volume that produces far more representation than the smaller publishers.
Okay, that's it for now, but that's a fun little toy. I'll see if I can generate some other interesting visualizations another time.
Not all of my comics have all of the same data entered in the database. Some stories don't have titles, for instance. Or the writer and artist may not have been recorded in the comic. But most have Cover Years. It makes sense that 2001 and 2002 are the most represented, as that's when I had my store. But 1987 comes in after that, my X-Men, Avengers, Animal Man, didn't have to pay for my own food days.
Ha. Animal Man is the only character who makes enough appearances through the database to merit mention. What this actually says is that I was far more caring about keeping track of my Animal Man appearances than any other character in the collection. This'll be an interesting graph to run once all of the comics are properly indexed.
No surprise which genre wins out in my collection. That Adventure comes in second is interesting. I wouldn't necessarily characterize a lot of what I've got as Adventure, though I suppose that term can be applied quite widely.
As with the genre list, no surprises for the top place for writers. I suppose that Chris Claremont is the third-highest representation has something to do with the aforementioned 1987 collection. It would be interesting to find a year, and read only comics from that year for a year.
One last one for today. For publishers, the top two aren't much of a surprise. Actually, none of the top ones really are, simply for the fact that they can handle the kind of volume that produces far more representation than the smaller publishers.
Okay, that's it for now, but that's a fun little toy. I'll see if I can generate some other interesting visualizations another time.
Thursday, June 25, 2015
Constructing a Collection - Don't Knock the Quarter Bin
(The second installment, written very close to exactly 5 years later. Next break won't be quite so long. Promise.)
Five years ago, I started what I'd hoped would be a series of articles about constructing a comic collection. Five years later, all I have is that introduction, but I still think it's a pretty interesting thing to talk about. I do love talking and thinking about collecting (as thiscurrently-fallow blog attests), so I'm resurrecting the series. We'll start with a consideration of the quarter bin.
(I'm going to pepper this post with actual scans of things I've found in dollar bins, just to give a sense of the scope and quality of comics available in such places.)
Probably the first question/comment would likely be "What the heck is a quarter bin?" It's a testament to the time in which I was beginning to think about these articles that I would think of the bargain bins of many comic stores as "Quarter Bins." Sadly, the days of quarter comics, except at the occasional garage sale, are over. It' much more likely you'll see a "Dollar Bin" nowadays. But if we consider that some comics hit upwards of five dollars per issue, a dollar is pretty good.
Secondly, let's expand our definition of a Quarter/Dollar bin, which will actually place the notion of a 25 cent comic back on the table. Dollar Bins don't have to be located in comic stores. A flea market might have comics kicking about on a table for anything from a quarter to a dollar. I've found packages of comics for $10, which turned out to mean 50 cents per comic. The Quarter/Dollar bin is a collecting metaphor. Really, we can consider it as any place where one can procure comics for less than they are likely to be new or as collectibles in a comic store.
As far as I've ascertained, there are four categories of comics, one of which I've not yet been fortunate enough to procure. Every so often one will hear a story, be it online or from an acquaintance, about someone who is pouring through a stack of old comics at a flea market or garage sale, and comes across something ridiculous like Action Comics #1. It may not be in pristine condition, but, really, who cares?! Imagine finding that comic, regardless of condition, and getting it for a dollar. Or less. I live in hope that one of these days something similar will happen to me, so I have that kind of story. But not yet. This is not to say, however, that the other categories of comics one can find are not every bit as fun and exciting. It's just in different ways.
The above comic is The Adventures of Mighty Mouse #132, published by Pines Comics in, according to the GCD, 1956-ish. My old copy of the Overstreet lists this issue at $65 Near Mint, and $5 Good. I got this one for 50 cents. The staples are still good, the center page is still there. It's missing a cover, but, really, the cover is simply there to, well, cover things. For readers, at least, it's what's inside that's important. My point for this comic, and similar ones in my collection, is that I likely wouldn't have paid even $5 for a copy of it. I like the mid-eighties Mighty Mouse from Marvel, but the character's not a particular favourite. This comic, however, coming in a stack of similarly aged and conditioned comics, was a wonderful find. It's utterly, utterly strange, and revealed to me that the attributes I admire in the aforementioned Marvel version of Mighty Mouse are not unique to that era of the comic. And if I'd turned my nose up at cheap, coverless comics, I'd never have discovered it. The Quarter/Dollar bin can be a treasure trove of strangeness. Weird independent comics that never got much play on the shelves, battered up copies of old comics from the fifties (a decade that really was another planet). In my delving into these troves, I'll often pick out the strangest covers I can find (I know, I know, judging books etc.). Often they'll be bad. But occasionally, they'll be good.
Comics like this one are often shunned by collectors. They're in bad condition, they don't give the full presentation of what the original material artefact was. I prefer to see these comics as being well-loved. The rounded corners, the slight oil stain at the edge of each page, the dulled almost to brown pages and equally dulled colours. They've been around, seen a lot of wear. They've been read. And really, for a narrative in any medium, to have been told and retold, or to tell and retell, I suppose, is really the highest praise it can receive.
Further up the page is the Steve Gerber-penned Cybernary #1. A good portion of Gerber's output in the nineties was with Image, and much of it suffered from the fact that he had to cleave to the shared universe within which he wrote, a universe of gravity-defying breasts and psychotic superheroes. It is no secret to anyone who's read this blog for a while that I'm a huge fan of Gerber's work. But he's not one of those writers, like Gaiman or Moore, who is voraciously, and more importantly popularly, collected and read by the general comics reading public. Gerber's writing demonstrates another of the categories of dollar bin finds. I've found many, many of his old works in such places, the one-offs he did for Creatures on the Loose for Marvel, his 4 issues of Captain America from the late seventies. They're not well-regarded comics, likely because they were fill-in issues for the regular writer/artist team, but they do have something about them that's intrinsically Gerberian (a notion I'm exploring over at Sequart). If you've a propensity for the work of someone like Doug Moench, or would love to read the old adventures of Morbius, the Living Vampire, the dollar bin is a good bet. That said, I've definitely found obscure works by the likes of Moore and Gaiman in dollar bins. The popularity of a writer/artist/title is no guarantee of high cost for all of the associated works. If you're clamouring to read all of Neil Gaiman's comics output, have a look in your local dollar bin for Elric #0 from Topps, beautifully illustrated by P. Craig Russell. Or Moore's old Time Twisters from 2000 A.D. in Quality's Time Twisters series. The dollar bin is a wonderful place to find oddities that fit your collection that, in some cases, you never even knew existed.
"Those three types of comics are all well and good, Tom" I hear you say, "but what about new stuff?" Well, you're in luck, but only in a few places. The coverless old stuff, the quirky collection stuff, they're staples of the dollar bin. The rare find is just that, rare. The fourth category I've discovered isn't ubiquitous, and often only happens in comic stores that are quite small. My local store in Calgary (Phoenix Comics N.W.) has very limited space, and no back issue boxes, so when comics get too old and don't sell, they're relegated to the dollar bin. To the right is issue #3 of Dark Engine, publication date October 2014. So the comic's just slightly more than 8 months old. I found the first three issues of this series in Phoenix's dollar bin, and picked them up because, well, a dollar! And it turns out to be a really great and intriguing series, which, again, I very likely would not have picked up for the cover price. That said, I'm going to keep reading the series, and pay full price for subsequent issues. This particular use of the dollar bin is quite wonderful, I think. I get to try a new comic for a substantial discount, and the store stands a chance of creating a new reader who will then pay full price for the rest of the series. Phoenix Comics has been remarkable for this sort of find for me. A number of the series I am currently reading I initially found in that dollar bin, and I'm so grateful for the opportunity to try new series without too much of an "am I wasting my money?" feeling.
(I probably shouldn't have mentioned where I got those new issues. All you Calgarian readers are going to go and scoop up all the good stuff now!)
I'll never stop shopping in the dollar bin. At the moment it's a nice way to grab a pile of comics and stay within a graduate student budget, but even when I start making actual money (that does happen, right?), I keep going to the dollar bin. For me, it is the place where the real wonder and fun of collecting comics is crystalised. There is the thrill of finding something cool and unique, of discovering the new or re-discovering the old. The smell of old newsprint wafts from them, the dust of years accumulates on your fingers as you search, your heart leaps when you think you've found something great. Were I ever to counsel someone on starting to build their own comics collection, I would say this: Take $50, go to a comic shop that has a substantial dollar bin, and get 50 comics. Base your purchase on how the comic looks, the characters on the cover, the genre it seems to be. You'll find great things and terrible things. And it will be one of the best $50 you spend in your life.
Five years ago, I started what I'd hoped would be a series of articles about constructing a comic collection. Five years later, all I have is that introduction, but I still think it's a pretty interesting thing to talk about. I do love talking and thinking about collecting (as this
(I'm going to pepper this post with actual scans of things I've found in dollar bins, just to give a sense of the scope and quality of comics available in such places.)
Probably the first question/comment would likely be "What the heck is a quarter bin?" It's a testament to the time in which I was beginning to think about these articles that I would think of the bargain bins of many comic stores as "Quarter Bins." Sadly, the days of quarter comics, except at the occasional garage sale, are over. It' much more likely you'll see a "Dollar Bin" nowadays. But if we consider that some comics hit upwards of five dollars per issue, a dollar is pretty good.
Secondly, let's expand our definition of a Quarter/Dollar bin, which will actually place the notion of a 25 cent comic back on the table. Dollar Bins don't have to be located in comic stores. A flea market might have comics kicking about on a table for anything from a quarter to a dollar. I've found packages of comics for $10, which turned out to mean 50 cents per comic. The Quarter/Dollar bin is a collecting metaphor. Really, we can consider it as any place where one can procure comics for less than they are likely to be new or as collectibles in a comic store.
As far as I've ascertained, there are four categories of comics, one of which I've not yet been fortunate enough to procure. Every so often one will hear a story, be it online or from an acquaintance, about someone who is pouring through a stack of old comics at a flea market or garage sale, and comes across something ridiculous like Action Comics #1. It may not be in pristine condition, but, really, who cares?! Imagine finding that comic, regardless of condition, and getting it for a dollar. Or less. I live in hope that one of these days something similar will happen to me, so I have that kind of story. But not yet. This is not to say, however, that the other categories of comics one can find are not every bit as fun and exciting. It's just in different ways.
The above comic is The Adventures of Mighty Mouse #132, published by Pines Comics in, according to the GCD, 1956-ish. My old copy of the Overstreet lists this issue at $65 Near Mint, and $5 Good. I got this one for 50 cents. The staples are still good, the center page is still there. It's missing a cover, but, really, the cover is simply there to, well, cover things. For readers, at least, it's what's inside that's important. My point for this comic, and similar ones in my collection, is that I likely wouldn't have paid even $5 for a copy of it. I like the mid-eighties Mighty Mouse from Marvel, but the character's not a particular favourite. This comic, however, coming in a stack of similarly aged and conditioned comics, was a wonderful find. It's utterly, utterly strange, and revealed to me that the attributes I admire in the aforementioned Marvel version of Mighty Mouse are not unique to that era of the comic. And if I'd turned my nose up at cheap, coverless comics, I'd never have discovered it. The Quarter/Dollar bin can be a treasure trove of strangeness. Weird independent comics that never got much play on the shelves, battered up copies of old comics from the fifties (a decade that really was another planet). In my delving into these troves, I'll often pick out the strangest covers I can find (I know, I know, judging books etc.). Often they'll be bad. But occasionally, they'll be good.
Comics like this one are often shunned by collectors. They're in bad condition, they don't give the full presentation of what the original material artefact was. I prefer to see these comics as being well-loved. The rounded corners, the slight oil stain at the edge of each page, the dulled almost to brown pages and equally dulled colours. They've been around, seen a lot of wear. They've been read. And really, for a narrative in any medium, to have been told and retold, or to tell and retell, I suppose, is really the highest praise it can receive.
Further up the page is the Steve Gerber-penned Cybernary #1. A good portion of Gerber's output in the nineties was with Image, and much of it suffered from the fact that he had to cleave to the shared universe within which he wrote, a universe of gravity-defying breasts and psychotic superheroes. It is no secret to anyone who's read this blog for a while that I'm a huge fan of Gerber's work. But he's not one of those writers, like Gaiman or Moore, who is voraciously, and more importantly popularly, collected and read by the general comics reading public. Gerber's writing demonstrates another of the categories of dollar bin finds. I've found many, many of his old works in such places, the one-offs he did for Creatures on the Loose for Marvel, his 4 issues of Captain America from the late seventies. They're not well-regarded comics, likely because they were fill-in issues for the regular writer/artist team, but they do have something about them that's intrinsically Gerberian (a notion I'm exploring over at Sequart). If you've a propensity for the work of someone like Doug Moench, or would love to read the old adventures of Morbius, the Living Vampire, the dollar bin is a good bet. That said, I've definitely found obscure works by the likes of Moore and Gaiman in dollar bins. The popularity of a writer/artist/title is no guarantee of high cost for all of the associated works. If you're clamouring to read all of Neil Gaiman's comics output, have a look in your local dollar bin for Elric #0 from Topps, beautifully illustrated by P. Craig Russell. Or Moore's old Time Twisters from 2000 A.D. in Quality's Time Twisters series. The dollar bin is a wonderful place to find oddities that fit your collection that, in some cases, you never even knew existed.
"Those three types of comics are all well and good, Tom" I hear you say, "but what about new stuff?" Well, you're in luck, but only in a few places. The coverless old stuff, the quirky collection stuff, they're staples of the dollar bin. The rare find is just that, rare. The fourth category I've discovered isn't ubiquitous, and often only happens in comic stores that are quite small. My local store in Calgary (Phoenix Comics N.W.) has very limited space, and no back issue boxes, so when comics get too old and don't sell, they're relegated to the dollar bin. To the right is issue #3 of Dark Engine, publication date October 2014. So the comic's just slightly more than 8 months old. I found the first three issues of this series in Phoenix's dollar bin, and picked them up because, well, a dollar! And it turns out to be a really great and intriguing series, which, again, I very likely would not have picked up for the cover price. That said, I'm going to keep reading the series, and pay full price for subsequent issues. This particular use of the dollar bin is quite wonderful, I think. I get to try a new comic for a substantial discount, and the store stands a chance of creating a new reader who will then pay full price for the rest of the series. Phoenix Comics has been remarkable for this sort of find for me. A number of the series I am currently reading I initially found in that dollar bin, and I'm so grateful for the opportunity to try new series without too much of an "am I wasting my money?" feeling.
(I probably shouldn't have mentioned where I got those new issues. All you Calgarian readers are going to go and scoop up all the good stuff now!)
I'll never stop shopping in the dollar bin. At the moment it's a nice way to grab a pile of comics and stay within a graduate student budget, but even when I start making actual money (that does happen, right?), I keep going to the dollar bin. For me, it is the place where the real wonder and fun of collecting comics is crystalised. There is the thrill of finding something cool and unique, of discovering the new or re-discovering the old. The smell of old newsprint wafts from them, the dust of years accumulates on your fingers as you search, your heart leaps when you think you've found something great. Were I ever to counsel someone on starting to build their own comics collection, I would say this: Take $50, go to a comic shop that has a substantial dollar bin, and get 50 comics. Base your purchase on how the comic looks, the characters on the cover, the genre it seems to be. You'll find great things and terrible things. And it will be one of the best $50 you spend in your life.
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