Showing Superman without showing Superman

As if I need to clarify this, I don’t own Superman.

While the fair use doctrine meant we could legally show a proportionately small number of Superman images inside Boys of Steel: The Creators of Superman, the same does not apply to covers. Therefore, the dilemma: how to show Superman on the cover without showing Superman on the cover?

Here's our solution:

(Before this concept existed, my suggestion was to keep Jerry and Joe in the center oval and add a red and blue streak in the sky behind them, a streak that ends with a silhouette of a man in a cape. Even without the word "Superman" in the subtitle, and even though many well-known characters have a cape or red and blue outfits, this flying shadow would still be instantly identifiable as Superman. But obviously, our illustrator Ross MacDonald found a more dynamic approach.)

We have not been the only book to face this challenge. Here’s how other Superman-themed titles (both before and since mine) have handled it. (To be clear, using the word “Superman” is permissible. It’s using his trademarked look that isn’t.)

Some reference the familiar ripping-the-shirt-open pose:

Some want readers to leap tall buildings in a single glance:

(This is the paperback version of the hardcover immediately before it.)

(This is a novel and not about Superman. I include it because 
it nonetheless clearly takes inspiration from Superman.
I found this image online and originally thought it was cropped,
then was reminded in the comments that this is likely how it
is meant to look.)

Some are confident that all it takes to conjure the thought of Superman is blue tights...

...or a red cape...

...while some take it a bit further...

 
Even with a yellow cape, we see Generic Hero but we think Superman:

Like we did with Boys of Steel, some others went the silhouette route:

(Obviously, this one also qualifies for the "red cape" category above.)

The following book counts on people (a) knowing who Clark Kent is and (b) associating a man in eyeglasses and a fedora with Clark Kent:

Men of Tomorrow is about the comic book industry as a whole so its cover is more all-purpose superhero, yet even its undetailed solo figure in flight suggests Superman:

Some avoid visual ties but rely on a verbal one:

Many of the above also incorporated the Superman color scheme into the design.

In sum, Superman is so iconic that many of his parts do telegraph the whole:
 

• a man pulling his shirt opening to reveal an emblem underneath
• a figure flying against a tall building, especially from low angle
• a figure flying period
• a cape (particularly but not exclusively red)
• a muscle-bound male silhouette
• a suited man in glasses and a fedora (sometimes even just glasses)
• red and blue together (if yellow is there, too, it’s unmistakable)

If you know of other covers that belong in this category, please let me know!

5/3/12 addendum:
 

A new Unicorn

On 4/10/10, I was one of the authors speaking at the inaugural Unicorn Writers' Conference in Connecticut. For a first-time event, attendance was impressive, so much so that the parking lot and lunch lines were bottlenecked.

The conference filmed all presenters, burned DVDs of each talk immediately afterward, and offered those DVDs for sale to attendees. (Authors, of course, negotiated in advance the terms of this with the conference.) My DVD also features the video of my cover of Chumbawumba's 1997 hit "Tubthumping":

I debuted a new presentation at Unicorn: "Nonfiction is Non-Boring." The topic, however, is not new for me. The presentation is based on the relatively new release Quick Nonfiction Writing Activities That Really Work.

That book, in turn, was based on another, more specialized presentation I've been doing for several years called "Draw a Story, Write a Cartoon."

It's all so meta.

The Golden Age of Comics you’ve never seen

On 3/31/10, I spoke at the Newport Public Library in Newport, Rhode Island.

It wasn’t my talk that merits a post but rather what happened afterward.

A man named Joseph Alaino came up to me and politely showed me superhero drawings he’d made as a kid. That alone was not remarkable. Many kids draw superheroes and some still have them as adults.

What was remarkable with respect to Joseph is that he is 79 years old. That means his drawings—made at least as early as 1943, when he was 12—are from the Golden Age of Comics.

Comics from the Golden Age of Comics are the most valuable comics in history.

Original, professional comic art from the Golden Age of Comics is also highly valuable.

But what about fan art from the Golden Age of Comics?

Though not valuable in the financial sense, it’s probably nearly as rare. And what makes it rarer in this case is not only that Joseph kept it all these decades but bothered to bring it to an event like mine and show it to someone.

Joseph’s art is a vivid window on the superhero culture in its earliest years. Kids these days have more than a half a century’s worth of characters to draw upon when creating new ones. Joseph had about five years’ worth. And granted those were five colorful and crowded years for capes, it’s still interesting to see what character names and designs Joseph used.

Before Joseph, I’d never wondered what kid-made superheroes of the Golden Age might’ve looked like. With his permission, here are but a few of his many drawings:




I suspect this was influenced by the Green Lantern oath, though Joseph didn't remember:











This last one caught my eye because I could instantly tell the cover he swiped the pose from:

Joseph also has a scrapbook of images he cut out from Golden Age comics when he was a kid:


Of course I had to say "You know how much these would've been worth if you'd kept them intact?" And his unsurprising answer was "Don't remind me."

Joseph was more than kind to allow me to post these images. So please show him the respect he deserves by not reposting without asking first.

My first April Fool’s author visit

On 4/1/10, I did my first school visit on April Fool’s Day. I was expecting (and hoping) to be fooled! Especially since it’s a school I had spoken at just two months earlier, so we were all buds already.

The kids didn’t try to get me, but I pulled one over on them.

Since I’d been there so recently, they’d been told I’d be giving a different presentation this time. I explained that I’d spend the hour on my newest book.

About socks.

And how not to wear socks.

And where socks are made.

And April Fool’s!

I then began the real presentation, a look at the “Easter eggs” of Boys of Steel: The Creators of Superman. And in the end, I did get a surprise during it.

Save the magazines

Here is a clever public service announcement that appears in the 4/16/10 issue of Entertainment Weekly:

It makes a compelling argument.

Most gutsy thing about it

It's laid out "old school magazine" style—just blocks of text with virtually no design. No callout boxes, no art, barely any color. This sends a message that magazines don't have to look like websites to survive.

Most troubling thing about it

Aren't the people who need to read it not going to see it because they're not reading magazines anymore?

And is it supporting or undermining the cause to post it online?

Rhode Island news and notes (including great ideas for schools #2 and 3)

Happenings during a recent round of speaking engagements in Rhode Island:

For the first time, a school had me sign in as a guest by computer. Prior to that, I’d signed in only by hand, either by writing my name in a log or filling out my own visitor nametag. But this way, the computer generated the label. I know—in the iPad Age, this should not surprise me, but I’m calibrated to record any first.

Speaking of which...

...at another school, I showed the cover of my first published title, The Felix Activity Book, which came out in 1996 and didn’t have a long shelf life. A teacher excitedly raised her hand to say she has it. After my talk, she proved it—and it looked like new. She insisted, however, that she uses it regularly. She just takes good care of her books.

At yet another school, I learned of not one but two inspiring events. The first is Quiet Week, during which all classes compete to see which can be the quietest in the hallways. The winning class (and in our PC climate, I’m always thrilled when I encounter a school that still allows for healthy competitions that yield winners) gets a pizza party. I was told the competition was (silently) fierce—the kids did a great job. I suspect this is an idea other schools will not need to be forced into adopting.

The second is a principal willing to go the distance for his kids and for a good cause. To kick off their “Blast Off Into Reading” campaign, the school’s principal (who I’ve got to name—Steve Ponte at Forest Avenue School in Middletown) went skydiving...while the student body watched.

So the distance he went is two miles, but it was two miles up. Rather down. I was majorly impressed with that. Plus, several other teachers signed on to join him. The lucky kids at that school surely got a memorable lesson not only in literacy but bravery.

And finally, at a fourth school, a student told us all that, at his house, he had found the most valuable comic book of all time.

A single comic that can pay for college

Boys of Steel: The Creators of Superman includes an illustration of a man looking at Action Comics #1, the first appearance of Superman and therefore the most valuable comic book in history. (Of the 200,000 printed in 1938, only 100 are known to still exist.)

Whenever I speak to students (or any group, really), I show that scene followed by a picture of the actual cover:

Then I suggest that kids get permission to look through their grandparents’ attics and basements. If they find an original copy of it, I urge them to call a lawyer (if they don’t live with one) because that one comic will pay for college.

On 4/1/10, I was honored to speak at Wheeler School in Providence, Rhode Island, for the second time in two months. It was a different presentation but at one point I did (re)show Action #1.

A boy who had seen me present the first time raised his hand.

He said he’d done what I’d suggested. He looked for that rare comic. And, he claimed, he’d found one.

It did not seem to be an April Fool’s joke.

The room itself suddenly felt adrenalized.

In front of the whole group, I asked him questions about it. He said he’d come across a pile of old comics and Action #1 was one of them. I asked if he was sure and he said yes.

After my presentation, I spoke privately with the student and the Head of the Lower School. I asked the Head if I could contact the family to find out just what they’ve got. If it was indeed this Holy Moley Grail of comics, I’d be happy to refer them to a trusted contact at a comics assessment company. The Head graciously put the family and me in touch.

The boy’s family had given the comics to his uncle but his mom kindly e-mailed me a photo of one of the issues, presumably representative of the bunch. I was not surprised to learn the reality. The comic is from 1969 and it’s generally worth between $5 and $20:

(That plot looks like an April’s Fool joke.)

The mother said her son wasn’t clear on just what he’d found. But I understand. And I love that this eager young man really did go on my treasure hunt.

Even though what he turned up didn’t turn out to be newsworthy, it is still a great story. And that, of course, is something I’m always interested in.