NJW&C 03: Does An Ending Always Have to Be Earned?
Hey, Kids! It’s Nice Jewish Words & Comics!, the latest installment from Neil Kleid's bi-monthly newsletter with updates and info about his latest projects!
Happy early Thanksgiving, folks!
Yes, it’s my favorite time of year—I live for this week, when things quiet down and the Kleid get to focus on family, food and football for one glorious, pumpkin-centric day. If you celebrate this most glorious of holidays the way I do, I hope you get to spend time with the people you love wherever you love to be, doing the things you love to do. And I also hope, like me, that you pray for a Lions victory.
So, first things first.
CALL ME WRITER OF THE YEAR
Yes, I won an award last week at JewCE. Yes, it was ‘Writer Honoree of the Year.’ Yes, I got recognized for a career spent writing Jewish comic books and graphic novels, and it meant a hell of a lot (especially because my amazing wife was there at my side) and I really appreciate the awards judging committee, everyone at JewCE, and the Center for Jewish History…but you know, for me the real award is when I hear folks have picked up one of my comics or books and them tell me how much they enjoyed it. Sure, getting an award is super nice—especially when not only am I recognized by my peers in comics, but my Jewish peers in comics—but I’m nothing without you, dear reader. And I’m nothing without all the fantastic co-authors who brought my stupid puns and pop culture references to life via brilliant, eye-popping art or illustration. I’m only part of what makes a good comic or graphic novel—without folks like John Broglia, Ellie Wright, Jake Allen, Frank Reynoso, Fernando Pinto, Andrea Mutti, Dean Haspiel, Andy MacDonald, Chris Mitten, Rantz Hoseley, Nicolas Cinquegrani, John McCrea, Mike Oeming, Taki Soma, Alex Nino and all the fantastic editors with whom I’ve worked, none of those books or comics would have made it into readers’ hands. So thank them. Thank you. I appreciate the recognition.
I will say JewCE was fun. Moved a bunch of books, met great folks like Dani Colman, Paul Axel, Ben Kahn and a bunch of others, and saw good folks I know and love. Seeing how folks embraced Jewish comics and Jews in comics was like spending a day in a warm hug with a bowl of matzah ball soup waiting on the side. I got to participate in a wonderful panel, meet a lot of great fans AND I hung out with legendary cartoonist Trina Robbins who is baller & funny as hell. You’re awesome, Jewish comics. Thank you to convention organizers Miriam Mora, Fabrice Sapolsky, Danny Fingeroth and everyone else at JewCE and the Center for Jewish History for including me. Though hands down the best—and most surreal—part was sitting at my table inside what’s essentially a small synagogue, listening to Danny explain the plot of “Weekend at Bernie’s” to Trina Robbins. Comics!
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But back to Thanksgiving. That means we’re close now to the end of the year…and as such, my mind turns to endings and farewell, particularly saying farewell to a story. So I’m gonna ramble about endings and earned moments for a moment of my own.
Saying goodbye has never been my strong suit. Personally, professionally, creatively—walking away from a scenario I've embedded myself into, surrounding myself with the familiar and comfortable always requires a brave face and, with luck, some kind of cake or gift. Farewell means moving forward, closing the books on chapters I can never experience again for the first time—and perhaps never experience again at all.
I'm the same way with the media I consume. How many, like me, grow frantic and depressed watching the pages of a much-anticipated novel fall thin to the right as they read? Who, upon viewing the last installment of a long-running television series doesn't walk away sad to never again have a new episode, caper, or problem for their well-loved characters to solve? Saying goodbye sucks. It doesn't matter if it's saying farewell to a relationship, a friendship, a job, or TV show. Nobody, anywhere, ever wants to see something they’ve enjoyed come to an end.
Stephen King, in the final chapter of his long-running and well-loved Dark Tower cycle, says that endings are heartless; they’re just another way for saying goodbye. King claims there's no such thing as a "happy" ending and that he never once met one to equal "once upon a time" (though beginnings have their own, frustrating problems, too; believe it from a writer who's stared at blank pages for more hours than he'd like to count). When the last Harry Potter novel hit, King penned an editorial for Entertainment Weekly in which he wrote:
"The sense of sadness I feel at the approaching end…isn't just because the story's going to be over; when you read a good one—and this is a very good one—those feelings are deepened by the realization that you probably won't tie into anything that much fun again for a long time. This particular melancholy deepens even more when the story is spread over multiple volumes. I felt it as I approached the end of Mervyn Peake's Gormenghast trilogy, more strongly as I neared the conclusion of Frodo's quest in The Lord of the Rings, and with painful keenness when, as the writer, I got to the end of The Dark Tower, which stretched over seven volumes and a quarter century's writing time.'
Let me amend my earlier claim: sure, I'm not a fan of goodbyes but I'll admit that when it comes to film, television, novels, comics... I crave them. Not in the way we crave to get to the end of a book and find out whodunnit, mind you; I've always seen the ending of a well-loved, long-running story as an opportunity to see the players one last time, tie up loose ends and watch the tale come together in the final seconds, perhaps with a look at where the major players may be sometime in future. King would hate me for that. But whether the ending wraps with a fade to black, dancing Ewoks, a leisurely ride to sea with Gandalf or a straightjacket fluttering in the wind, you can be sure of one thing: the ending, no matter how commercial, popular, anticipated or hopeful, isn't written for you and me. It isn't going to be everything you want it to be, or everything the world thinks it's going to be. What it will be, is the ending that serves its story.
Remember the final episode of Seinfeld? How about the wild theories about who was going to get it at the end of The Sopranos or Game of Thrones? Did the last frame measure up to what you or the world was expecting? Not exactly. Mass, worldwide, media letdown, if I recall. Odds are that the creators didn't write those endings to satisfy the viewe — they wrote the endings the way they needed to be written, in order to end the story the way it needed to end.
Long ago, gnashing my teeth as the camera pulled away from Jerry, George, Kramer and Elaine, I wasn't this enlightened. But age brings wisdom, temperance, and more endings. Bone, Strangers in Paradise, Cerebus, Starman, Sandman, Preacher, Spawn, Phonogram, The Boys, Savage Dragon, Y the Last Man, Locke and Key, Fables, countless superhero titles, and several others whose titles escape me at the moment…so many comic books series have had their cadre of loyal, dedicated, rabid fans eagerly waiting for the last, final, closing word that would leave them happy, satisfied, able to close the door and walk away because they'd read the ending they felt was the right ending. Now, I won't tell you that happened. I'm sure many readers slammed that door closed, angry and unfairly critical of the ending they'd received, unable to understand that the writer/creator didn't craft it for that particular reader but rather in a way that it needed to be told. Some of these endings followed my cravings —Y the Last Man, specifically, set its ending years in the future, allowing me, the faithful reader, to see what had become of Brian Vaughan's wayward escape artist and his irrepressible little monkey Ampersand…and some did not. I’ll admit to being torn about that final issue of Strangers in Paradise, an episode that seemed a bit too good to be true for my jaded taste. But age and wisdom have taught me one thing: the reason that endings are heartless is because they care little for the reader, somewhat for their creator, and devote everything to the story. It's happened time and again, and as more and more comic book series move towards the end, the pages falling to the left with cruel, heartless abandon, it will always happen again.
I've been thinking a lot about earned endings…or earned moments, when it comes to writing endings, especially as we put the finishing touches on the last issue of Nice Jewish Boys. That moment a character (or consumer) earns in the narrative or a piece simply having gone on a journey together within a story. The one story that always brings this to mind for me is Avengers: Endgame, the epic culmination of Marvel’s cinematic ‘Infinity Saga’ with seeded moments & fleshed out character arcs that call back to the many, many previous movies that had come before, where when characters reunite or touch upon earlier episodes, and the audience thrills or cries because it reminds them of the journey. It's because the audience, like the characters, has earned that moment. That's a powerful thing, to earn a moment in a story, to feel emotion for a reunion, thrill, or death. To laugh at a line, gasp at another. It means something because it was earned during a journey. I think that's why Marvel movies have resonated to more to me than the DC Comics ones have (don’t come at me, okay? I like those too). The emotional depth but also the length of the journey from Iron Man to Endgame made me feel like one of the family. I knew the characters. I knew the moments that meant something. Thankfully, those of us devoted to specific fandoms have been awash in opportunities for earned moments the last several years. Marvel, Game of Thrones, Star Wars, The Walking Dead, even freaking This Is Us ... plenty of earned moments for us all.
But as a writer crafting a tale—especially when the tale is what, five issues sometimes at most?— those moments are hard to come by. If if you aren't lucky enough to write a successful and beloved run of movies, comics, episodes, etc., you may not get enough runway to land the moments or the ending correctly. But I’m always trying. In recent books of mine, like Savor and Nice Jewish Boys, I’ve tried to harness the power of a call back or an earned moment to elicit emotional connection with the reader in a short window of time or opportunity; 128 or 110 pages, either all in line or spread out over 4 to 5 issues. That’s not always so easy. The reader may not have had enough emotional connection to build up to that—to truly feel when a moment or ending lands, as much as they may have from a sixty issue run. And then there’s the Stan Lee of it all, right? Stan famously believed that every comic book is someone’s first and perhaps also someone’s last—if could be issue 2 of 6 or issue 201 of a decades-long run. As a writer, Stan believed you have to find a way to emotionally connect with a reader no matter who they are and whichever part of the story that reader is experiencing. That’s easier to do, of course, with a stand-alone book like Savor. Not so easy if someone’s checking out the third issue of Nice Jewish Boys having never read the preceding installments, or issue number whatever of the latest volume of Spider-Man or the Justice League—like a friend or family member, say, sitting down to watch Avengers: Endgame having never seen half the films that have come before.
So which is better for you, readers: earning a moment or ending after sticking with something for so long, or Stan’s rule that every single issue needs to provide an earned ending or moment, because it may be the readers’ first or last?
I can’t answer that, and won’t presume to say that I’m skilled enough to know. I’m still learning as I write, with every single book or comic I write. For me, as a consumer, I’ll admit that I’d rather be satisfied by the former, experience the moments or endings after immersion in the world or narrative. But then, I read fast and watch quickly. Not everyone has time for that sort of thing, or can keep up with everything. I can see wanting to get that emotional punch from everything you watch or read, and often enough that could hook you into experiencing the rest (as I’m sure was the impetus for the rule’s creation by Stan, where in his days the only think hooking a reader to buy the consecutive issue was the one it that reader’s hands!)
But if you're writing, and if—like me—you're crafting moments and endgames of your own...having orchestrated a story train’s narrative journey from Day One to each stop along the way toward its station leg... I urge you to think about earned moments, consider what it took for others writers and filmmakers to make them land. And study them to create earned moments of your own. If you know of some great examples, feel free to comment on this newsletter’s chat page and leave them for others to experience and study when they can.
THROWBACK, UH, TUESDAY: ACTION, OHIO
So as its Thanksgiving, my mind drifts to nostalgia and family—I’m from Detroit, and in years past I’ve driven home from New York to spend it there, usually taking me across a long stretch of Route 80 East, which inevitably brings me through the great state of Ohio.
Now, Cleveland’s an interesting little town, SPACE is a great convention, and Columbus a stone’s throw from Kentucky. I love Cedar Point and one day want to hit the Football Hall of Fame in Canton. Other than that? I don’t have much use for Ohio. Except for one reason—and that’s to talk about my old comic book with co-author Paul Salvi, Action Ohio.
Back in the early Aughts I was thinking about the renaissance of comic book superhero movies. Remember when the first Spider-Man film came out? Everywhere you turned in NYC, you saw a big, billboard Spidey swinging across the the skyline. When you read a Marvel Comic and you see a throwaway billboard as Daredevil jumps across rooftops advertising an Iron Man movie, it's fun because it's comics. But it was difficult for me to think I'd be driving down the West Side Highway staring at a big old picture of Iron Man or Wonder Woman. It was almost as if Wonder Woman lived in our world, a celebrity in herself. Imagine if those heroes...the ones we read about month after month, follow their adventures and watch their films...actually lived in this great nation of ours? As a comic book fan, wouldn't you want to visit? And after reading a lifetime of books about Galactus, the Rogues and various Crises, wouldn't you be scared to death?
That was the spark of an idea I had called Action, Ohio.
In the summer of Ought-Four, I was knee deep in a handful of comics that deconstructed superheroes, taking characters and turning them upside down, shaking them like a martini and dropping them into a cocktail glass of fictionalized wonder. Watchmen. The Authority. Starman. I’ve always admired writers that are able to spin new worlds, new dilemmas using history and mythology, and wanted to try it myself.
When I first wrote Action, Ohio, I'll admit it was a cut and dried pitch for Marvel. Entitled Marvel, Ohio, it gathered the Stan-Jack oeuvre and dropped them in a world where their powers weren't a gift, forcing them to face responsibilities when the veneer Stan Lee and Jack Kirby created to hide them had been shattered by the awakening of a group of misfits. Over the years, I struggled with that story, and both themes and motivations changed. The characters went through dramatic transformations but there was always the underlying fascination of comic books’ Silver Age. What I finally understood was that I was pigeonholing myself: rather than focus on Stan and Jack's contributions, I would use them to open a door to the entire Silver Age of comic books.
The concept explores what you see more and more in comics and films, showcasing how superheroes or the existence thereof might affect the real world. If you discovered superhumans lived one town over, what would that do to your life? How would it affect your family or job? What if the company you worked for made comics?Showcasing the Silver Age, deconstructing the heroes, allowed me to look at our world through the eyes of a Barry Allen, a Steve Rogers, a Charles Xavier or Ray Palmer. It allowed me to see wonder, horror, the gifts and blessing of being a superhero in the Internet Age. And hopefully the story would convey that to the reader.
Having grown up in Detroit, I’m a sucker for setting my books in the Great Lakes Region. Every book out there is either set in New York, L.A. or London and I sometimes wonder if it’s because, well, that’s where the writers are from. Me, I always wanted to shine a light on my comfort zone because apart from the pre-Crisis JLA, how many superhero books took place in Detroit? Ohio, honestly, got picked for this strip for one major reason: DULL. AS, PAINT. When driving to the Motor City, I dread the 4 hour stretch across the vast emptiness that is the Buckeye State. Nothing but trees and fields and identical truck stops. Seriously, if you’re driving across I-80 through Ohio, you’re counting miles down as fast as you can, hoping to get to Indiana or Michigan post-haste, or your damndest to get home. It’s just tiring, is all; a long stretch of road along which nobody wants to dawdle… so much so that you speed past exit after exit, hoping to reach daylight or Chicago before it’s too late. So wouldn’t it be the perfect place to hide something? Especially a town?
It was Paul Salvi, my intrepid co-author on the project, who helped me understand what the story was about and how to frame it: a murder mystery, but also a soul searching exploration for heroism, courage and the truth. It would be about sacrificing what you want for what's right. And who among us can't relate to that? The question became...what to do with it?
In 2008, DC Comics played host to a unique initiative: Zuda Comics. There are multiple sites out there that can explain it better than I can, but the idea was ‘American Idol for comics.’ Ten would compete each month for votes and the winner would get a webcomics contract with DC. So Paul and I entered Action, Ohio hoping for the best. We did all right, coming in second (we were in first place the morning of final count, but a last minute, well-deserved surge had Celadore win the month). Instead, we placed Action on the newly established webcomics hub belonging to Jim Valentino’s Shadowline Comics alongside a handful of fun comic book strips. Paul and I managed to crank out over 50 screens…but schedules got busy and paid work beckoned. The comic book was put on hiatus and never returned.
Below, you can find the first eight screens—the Zuda Comics screens. Maybe one day I can return to this one, or find it a permanent digital home for the ages. Perhaps with time I’ll be able to post the rest (though Paul has I the past asked me to note this is early work, and it would suit him fine if they were never seen by anyone again).
I did a few interviews about the comic, if you’d like to have a read. And we had a work blog here with some behind the scenes stuff.
Anyway; enjoy. And remember that with great fiction, comes great responsibility.
WHAT’S NEIL WORKING ON?
Nice Jewish Boys #2, the second installment of the suburban crime comic I’m releasing via Comixology Originals with John Broglia, Ellie Wright and Sarah Litt, is out via Amazon on December 5th. The cover is below, and the preorder link will be up shortly.
After December 4, you can continue to access your Comixology comics, graphic novels, and manga titles in the Kindle app‚ including all issues of Nice Jewish Boys. Please ensure you are using the same Amazon login you use now for the Comixology app. You must download your books again in the Kindle app in order to continue reading. When you are ready to make the switch, make sure to delete the Comixology app to free up storage space on your device.
Don’t forget, issue #1 is still available now. People seem to be enjoying it, like Alex Segura (Secret Identity), Matthew Rosenberg (What’s the Furthest Place From Here), and Ethan Sacks (Star Wars Bounty Hunters).
You may also continue to read your Comixology books on the web via read.amazon.com. If you prefer to read on your Kindle E-reader, you can go to Your Content and Devices to send individual books to download on your E-reader. Mac users can also read via the recently upgraded Kindle for Mac.
Thanks for understanding…and for reading. Issue #2 is a lot of fun. Hope you dig it.
Other than NJB, I’ve just written the first 2000 words of a new novel I’m code-naming ‘Project Vigilant.’ I’m also working on a horror comedy pitch for a comic book series, and may have made some small headway on a potential Jewish superhero anthology I’m attempting spearhead. More on all of that should any of it progress!
Honestly, it's been a struggle the last month to get any writing done. I finished one horror pitch a while back, but it was like pulling teeth...I've been unable to truly focus since October 7th.
But I just started the new novel. And I’m having fun, so I’m feeling pretty good about it.
WHAT NEIL IS WATCHING AND READING
Busy week, long newsletter, and a lot of my shows ended. We’ll save what I’m putting into my eyeballs for later after the holiday, maybe with a few holiday gift recommendations.
I will point out a few things you should read or watch by some cool people, though!
I can’t tell how excited I am to watch Monarch: Legacy of Monsters on Apple TV+, the new Godzilla show developed by friend of the newsletter Matt Fraction. My son’s a big G-fan, and I am looking forward to digging into this with him over the holidays.
I’m also excited to read The Holy Roller #1 from Rick Remender, Fall Out Boy’s Joe Trohman, Roland Boschi and freaking Andy Samberg (Watch Brooklyn 99 if you haven’t. Then go watch Popstar: Never Stop Stopping). “To care for his ailing father, pro bowler Levi Coen is forced to quit his dream job and return to his hometown, which he soon discovers has been overrun by Neo-Nazis! With only his bowling ball collection to defend himself, Levi becomes THE HOLY ROLLER, a trick bowling ball-wielding Jewish superhero battling to liberate his home and bowl a perfect game against crime! Kingpin meets Inglourious Basterds meets Batman.” I mean. I mean, come on. It’s out this week from Image Comics.
Another pal of the newsletter, Alex Segura, is spinning a new comic strip yarn called Mara Llave: Keeper of Time with Nickolej Villiger at Comics Kingdom. The first strip just went up, and it looks like a fun time-travely comic that’ll gimme the best sort of headache if I think about it for far too long. Give it a try, willya? Alex is a great writer, and if you haven’t checked out his comic book noir prose novel, Secret Identity, do yourself a favor and get it for Thanksgiving and read it while basting dat bird. Just don’t forget to set a time that’ll remind you to keep basting when you inevitably get too engrossed in Alex’s prose to remember.
In the meantime, happy Thanksgiving, good luck to my Lions, and enjoy any time you can grab with the people you love—even if that person is yourself. As for me, I’m looking forward to this Thursday evening when I’ll be like a Thanksgiving cyborg—half man, half tryptophan.
Love, stuffing and turkey grease. See you in two weeks.
—Neil
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