International School of Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia

I thought I learned the name “Kuala Lumpur” from Jurassic Park, but I can’t find confirmation online and don’t have the book handy. In any case, I’m here now, speaking for seven days at the International School of Kuala Lumpur—the first school I’ve seen that has both a turtle and koi pond on site. Or, for that matter, either.

I connected in Dubai, and as I have seen on past trips to parts of Asia, they cap the boarding process with the spraying of insecticide.

The Petronas Towers, the world’s tallest buildings from 1998 to 2004, were the tallest buildings visible from my hotel room. At night they look ghostly. 

And unlike American skyscrapers, they don’t stay lit all night. 

Inside one lobby in the towers, I saw an advertisement for a superhero symphony.

When I learned a place called Batu Caves was a 30-minute subway ride away, I could not resist. It’s one of the most visited Hindu shrines outside India. It’s also one letter off from my favorite of all caves.

This area on the subway platform would warm the heart of any author (though in KL, everything is warm all the time).

En route, I encountered a couple of signs that drew attention from other Westerners as well.

From inside the entrance of the Dark Cave (part of the Batu Caves complex), you can look into the distance and see the Petronas Towers.

Views from either side of the biggest cave:

More glimpses of Batu:

Passing a pharmacy counter back at the mall at the base of Petronas Towers, I saw a book you won’t find laying around your average CVS.

My favorite of their ‘80s hits is a tie between “Rio” and “The Reflex.” I didn’t know they run juice bars, too.

At the base of KL Tower (which resembles Seattle’s Space Needle) is the last remnant of what used to be on the site of KL: rain forest. 

You can enter and wander freely. On the canopy walk throughout part of the forest, I saw a few others, but back on the ground, I was alone. 

I found out the weird way that if you don’t exit by 5 p.m., they lock you in—and some people on the outside don’t lift a finger to let you out.

One guy (whom I believe was an employee of the park/grounds) sitting at one locked exit instructed me to “go around”—but I had no idea what that meant exactly, so I walked back about 20 minutes till I found the only other exit I was sure I could find. That was locked, too.

Two other surprised guys showed up on my side of the gate, and we all waited while someone went to find a key. After a short while passed with no sign of rescue, I considered climbing over and probably could have, if not for my hands being slick with sweat and the bars being metal. Luckily, the gatekeeper eventually did return.

And all that was just Sunday.

I walked a lot farther than I realized.

The next day was my first of seven at ISKL. Another adventure begins…

I hand-carried 76 books. By day three, I had sold them all but did not bring enough.

Thank you, ISKL for bringing me to KL, which I find easy and enjoyable to explore.

How I met Bill Finger

After the historic credit announcement of September 2015, Bill the Boy Wonder: The Secret Co-Creator of Batman artist Ty Templeton touched me deeply by creating this:

I included this toon in my announcement of the announcement, but it more than deserves its own post.

Third presentation at the 92nd Street Y

On 2/9/16, the day after Bill Finger’s 102nd birthday, I had the privilege of speaking for the third time at the 92nd Street Y in New York City.

Midtown Comics kindly agreed to help me spread word (look for the little flyer they put out).

But otherwise, in the days just prior, it seemed like forces were conspiring against me.

The previous week, I was speaking at schools and a conference in Denver. My flight back east was a Saturday night red-eye with a three-hour layover in Phoenix. I landed in Philadelphia Sunday morning at 6 a.m….but the suitcase I gate-checked did not. Apparently three hours was not enough time to transfer it from one plane to another, and it was still in Arizona.

Complicating this, I was not staying in Philadelphia—I was traveling on to Connecticut for two days of helping my mother downsize. That meant they would have to drive the bag farther than typical—or put it on another flight, then drive it.

Further complicating this, I’d packed my winter coat and gloves in my suitcase.

In two thin layers and a T-shirt, I took Amtrak to Connecticut. While you were watching the Super Bowl, I was cleaning out my mom’s storage unit, making multiple trips to the dumpster. On one of those trips, I tripped—rather slipped. Ice ice baby.

I expected my bag would have been delivered by evening, but no such luck. I called American Airlines. A rep said it appeared that my bag was in Philadelphia but could not tell me with certainty. So much for tracking numbers and computers.

The next day was also dedicated to helping my mom—during a snowstorm. In between, I called American multiple times, reminding them that I would be leaving Connecticut early Tuesday morning so the bag had to be delivered by Monday night. Each rep told me something different, giving me the impression that no one knew anything.

The one outfit I had with me was more suitable for manual labor than for presenting at the 92Y. So on Monday night, with still no sign of my bag, I Ubered to Marshalls in the snow to buy a new shirt, pants, and belt.

Then I called American yet again, this time giving them the delivery address where I was headed next. Two reps told me that my bag was still in Philly and I was updating my info in time. Still, I had a feeling that the bag would be delivered at the Connecticut address an hour after I left.

Tuesday morning, I left a note, then left.

An hour later, a courier called me. He was standing in front of my sign, asking for the new address (and no doubt assuming it was elsewhere in the same town).

My bag was rerouted again, arriving at the new address the following morning.

After I thanked the courier, he texted me “I’m glad it all worked out for you. Have a nice life.”

I started my 92Y presentation with this story, then showed Batman’s emblem and said “Now a story of real drama.”

The crowd (before a few more came in):

During Q&A, an elderly woman said she was a friend of Bob Kane’s and felt I villainized him. I tried to assure that I am not passing judgment on the man as a relative or friend; I did not know him personally. But I stood by my assessment of him as a professional—someone who took advantage and lied. After the talk, I signed books and she came up to me to ask if I partner with her and write a book based on a concept she had.

Courtesy of Jeff Trexler.

The 92Y talk was also the occasion on which we resumed filming a documentary begun in 2008 with Time (the now-defunct film division of the magazine), then put on hold, then resumed in 2011 with A&E Indie Films, then put on hold again. Soon I will reveal the details on this, including why it went on hiatus and what content provider we have newly partnered with.

Afterward, friends from different chapters in my life (youth group, first job, comics colleagues) decamped for a bite at a nearby restaurant I chose because of its name: The Milton.

Then I went back to my pod hotel (first time), happy at having had another chance to tell Bill’s story.

Thank you to the 92Y’s Christine Chen for hosting me, and thanks to all who attended. Watch your step, watch your bag, and before year’s end, when the doc comes out, you’ll be able to watch a portion of this talk.

2/11/16 addendum: Thanks also to Heidi MacDonald and Alexander Lu at The Beat for this humbling coverage.

Bill the boy neighbor

Recently I heard from a man named Robert vanMaanen, who lived in the same building as Bill Finger in the early 1970s, when Robert was a boy. This was the building in which Bill died.

Bill and young Robert became friends. It’s somehow poetic that Bill had a positive experience with a Bob at the end of his life considering how an earlier experience with a Bob was quite the opposite.

An interview with Robert:

How did you know Bill Finger?

I grew up in Manhattan. My father was a building superintendent at the building where we lived, 340 E. 51st Street (the Allen House). I was in 6th grade (1973).

Robert is the boy in the tie in the front row.

 Robert in his father’s office in the basement

of the Allen House

I was into comics, and I loved the Batman show. My father found out that Bill was the original writer of the Batman comics, so he introduced me to him.

How often did you see him?

I would see him in the lobby on occasion, probably met with him about six or seven times (sit-downs).

How would you see him? Did he come over? Did you go to his apartment?

I always went up to his apartment.

Did he socialize/interact with your parents?

He did talk to my father, but not my mother. First time I met him, my father went with me. And then I went either alone or with friends who were comic fans.

What was your impression of him?

He seemed like a nice man. He had lots of stories to tell. It was a long time ago (40+ years). But he left an impression on me and my love of comics (especially Batman) grew.

How was his attitude when discussing his Batman work?

He was proud of his contribution in creating Batman. It was almost as if he was talking about his son. He would tell me about his research he would do for his stories. He would explain that you just can’t write about something without knowing about the subject. Looking back on the things I have read about him as an adult, I see why he would have trouble with deadlines.

Why do you think he was so nice to you?

I think he saw in me a person who was touched by a character he co-created. A fan.

What do you remember about his apartment?

I think it was a one-bedroom, living room/dining room combo. We would sit at the dining room table and talk. The wall that was towards the front door had a china closet. Dining room had an oval table, I think four chairs. One of the chairs had a huge pile of papers/comics/research notes on it. In the china closet left lower door, he had more papers and notes. There was a small TV cart (on wheels). The TV was always on when I was there.

What memorabilia did he have?

He showed my some copies of comics he had. I asked him about Detective Comics #27. He told me that a few years back, National Publications had asked him to auction off his last file copy (I believe for charity). He had all sorts of notes for stories he had written. I remember a paper with clocks and watches with cutaways. He found a Batman and Robin sketch signed by Bob Kane which he gave to me. He inscribed my Batman with Robin the Boy Wonder From the 30’s to the 70’s [sic] “To Robert, more than a fan—a friend, Bill Finger.”

Unfortunately both the items I had from him were stolen years ago. But when I saw the only known copy of his handwriting, I immediately recognized his writing style. I wish Bill would have signed the Batman sketch; I’m sure someone out there still has it. He also had a script of The Green Slime on his TV stand. There were other papers and magazines under it (not sure what they were).

How were those items stolen?

After we moved from the city to Staten Island, we lived on Howard Avenue and there was a building fire. We had mostly water damage. But the building was not habitable. We temporarily moved into a building that my father was building manager of. It was a smaller apartment, so some of our stuff went into storage. Most of the stolen stuff was collectibles and comics.

So the items were stolen out of the house or out of storage?

Out of storage, probably winter of 1979.

Do you remember hearing that he died (January 1974)? How? What was your reaction?

I was sad. I never got to say goodbye. I did not tell Athena or Travis this, but my father Jack (Jelke) vanMaanen is the person who found Bill dead. There was a complaint of a smell on his floor and people had not seen him. Being the super, my father went into his apartment and found him. I know his son came and took what he wanted from the apartment. But there was no memorabilia left. Just furniture. 

If the experience changed your life in any way, how?

It did change me. I became a bigger comics fan because of it. Through the years, there would be small snippets of info about Bill. I always remembered the stories, the passion he had for his part in the creation of Batman plus all the characters; even if he wasn’t officially recognized, it was fine just knowing in his head what the truth was. Looking back now (as an adult), the most amazing thing: he was never bitter. He never had a bad thing to say about National Periodicals or Bob Kane. I always corrected people when talking about who was (in my opinion) the creator of Batman.

Do you remember anyone else in the building Bill would hang out with?

No one else in the building that I know of. I know he was friendly with one of the doormen, Eddie.

Are you still in touch with any of your friends who came with you to Bill’s apartment, and if so, could I reach out to them, too?

Two friends came with me to visit him. I’m in touch with one of them, George Pappas. He remembered meeting Bill, but thought it was Bob Kane (being it was so long ago and Bob’s name is always associated with Batman). The other friend I lost track of, Tom Ward (two kids to the right of Miss Weissman, in a pink shirt and red pants). He had the same book as me signed by Bill, different inscription. He may have only known handwriting of Bill.

Do you have any photos of Bill or his apartment?

Unfortunately, I do not.

What are you doing these days?

I work at New York University’s Co-Gen Power Plant (32 years).

Where do you live?

I live on Staten Island in Eltingville since 1976. I’ve lived in New York City all my life.

Anything you’d like to add?

I’m glad that Bill is finally got recognized for all the work he had done in comics. I’ve been telling people the truth for years. I wish I had heard about you when you were doing your research on your book. I may have been able to help you with some leads. There is probably not much I can tell you at this point. You did a fantastic job on your research.

I know Bill would be proud to see his name associated with Batman and the many other characters he helped create.

Happy 102nd birthday, Bill

A couple of heartfelt tributes: 

Comics Alliance 

Batman News (partial screen shot); I love the last line:

An apt week to be in Denver

On Monday 2/1/16, I flew to Denver—many hours earlier than planned. I was originally booked on a flight set to arrive at 8:30 p.m., and had my first school visit scheduled for Tuesday morning, but upon learning the Saturday before of a winter storm bearing down, I waited for the travel advisory to be issued (it was on Sunday morning) so I could change my flight for no charge. Reducing the risk of not getting there as much as possible, I opted for the flight departing at 5:40 a.m.

Good thing, too. That flight arrived before noon, no delays. And the snow arrived after noon. My original flight was indeed canceled.

But then, so was school on Tuesday. So I got to Denver in time to have a day in a hotel.

I had two hourlong presentations (at different schools) booked for Tuesday, and was able to reschedule one for later in the week. The other will get first priority on my next return.

I spoke at four other schools, all lovely. I spoke three times at CCIRA, the Colorado Council International Reading Association conference, on Thursday. And on Saturday, I ran two writing workshops for middle schoolers as part of a program related to CCIRA. 

My conference badge showed I was in for a good time. 

Thank you to Amy Nicholl, Cindi Bryant, and all others who helped me be a part of this event, my third time (after 2010 and 2013).

This was an apt time to be in Denver is because it was the buildup week to the Broncos playing in Super Bowl 50 AND the buildup to the 102nd birthday of Bill Finger—who was born in Denver. The sweatshirt of this Littleton Academy student (Brady) could not have been more appropriate. And I’m not even a football watcher.

At Littleton, a first: a student (Sam) gave me a tour of the school. I am a big fan of schools that empower students with leadership opportunities—making the morning announcements, introducing guest speakers, etc.

Also at Littleton: even before I left the building, one of the teachers showed me work her students created immediately after the assembly.

They designed memorials for Bill, their native son.

I’m told more are on the way.

And I believe that an actual Bill Finger memorial in Denver is possible…with a little help from the kids. Stay tuned…