Your New-to-Comics Glossary
by Jim Mroczkowski
Dear relatively normal friend,
Thank you again for your well-meaning, three-quarters-hearted attempt to take an interest in what I do out here on the internet. For months now, every time we run into each other, you say, “I miss your blog updates. You should totally write more. Why don’t you write more?” and then I reply, “I write all the time. I write every week. Remember? iFanboy.com? I’ve mentioned it to you twelve times? Even forwarded you a couple of the articles? Printed some out, left them on your windshield? The domain name over your house in skywriting that time, remember?” and then you reply, “Oh! Oh, sure. Eye fan boy, with the comic strips. I totally need to check that out,” and then you quickly turn your head in a vain attempt to keep me from noticing as you roll and roll and roll your eyes until you start to look a little like Cookie Monster.
I dig where you are coming from, old friend. You have tried to venture onto the comics internet a couple of times, only to scuttle back to Yahoo filled with confusion and agita. You’re even someone who’s a little interested in comics– you always have so many detailed, almost-not-even-patronizing questions for me every time an X-Men movie comes out– yet the things you find when you try to search for more information online always leave you puzzled and frustrated. After spending a little time on Newsarama, you start to feel like a child lost in the streets of a foreign country; what are all these people saying, and why do they sound so mad? Never mind actual comics: even conversations about reading comics have their own continuity, jargon, and inscrutable inside jokes that are a barrier to entry strong enough to keep out the Huns.
That is why I thought I would prepare something to greet you the next time you dip a toe into these roiling, piranha-filled waters. Since I know those of us who spend $40 a week on comics use a language that only we understand without even realizing that we’re doing it, I have prepared for you this small but helpful glossary of terms. Enjoy!:
Trade: short for “trade paperback,” which is in turn long for “TPB.”
A trade is the collected edition of the individual chapters of a comic, which were originally published as periodicals one month at a time. (These individual chapters are also occasionally called “floppies” by no one I have ever met in my life, probably because “comic book” is already the perfectly good name of those things.) If you have ever purchased a comic only to find yourself frustrated that it seemed to end abruptly and that reading it took less time than paying for it in the store did, then “waiting for the trade” is for you. Publishers use the term often, despite the fact that 80% of the population has no idea what it means; often the abbreviation “TPB” will be included in the book’s listed title, such as “Spider-Man: New Ways to Die TPB,” which in context might as well stand for “Try to Prevent Buying.” “TPB” tells the 1,200 guys left on earth who always buy this stuff that the book isn’t a hardcover, but to the other 250 million prospective buyers it might as well be a hieroglyph of an angry bird. Outside of comic collector circles, trades are better known by their more common name, “books.”
Jumping-on Point: the point at which I finally jump on someone for asking this question about readability for the millionth time.
Longtime comic enthusiasts have become increasingly obsessed with the fear that they might buy the wrong issue of a given comic only to discover that they have no way to figure out what is going on, as if the first issue of a story arc contains a decoder ring without which all the subsequent chapters are in Flemish. Every one of these same people began reading comics by buying issue #271 of something at random with no “recap page” in the front twenty years before the existence of Wikipedia, and based on what they read went on to spend $71,000 on comics. This would suggest that the mythical, Nessie-like Jumping-on Point can actually be virtually anywhere if the writing is compelling enough. The legend of the Jumping-on Point also fails to acknowledge that the Jumping-Offramp can be stuck smackdab in the middle of any page of any arc. You can start at issue #1 and understand everything for half a year when the author decides, “Now we’re going to go ahead and explain what the real deal with Xorn was, followed by a three-part lecture series on the nature of the Speed Force which we will hold in a big, featureless red cloud.” Wanting to start at the beginning is noble, but these aren’t DVDs. Season one was in 1962. Life is short; buy an issue and go with it.
Fan: someone who hates something so much it’s all he can talk about.
If you’re a new reader who’s interested enough in something to seek out its every error, problem, and flaw, fan sites and their message boards are an excellent place to look. How does the most recent issue fail to live up to expectations set in 1978? A fan knows. How much should Wolverine be shorter? A fan will tell you. In 2009, truly hardcore fans are enough to make you cut your DSL line and switch to building ships in bottles.
Event: as the name suggests, Events are comics in which something happens. Fans love Events. Typically, Events happen roughly once a year and are approximately two years long. The period when an Event is ongoing is known in the fan community as a “fatigue”; the month between Events is known as a “slump.”
Name: a writer or artist who can do terrifying things to your favorite character without anyone trying to stop him.
For example, Mark Millar is a Name Writer. Over the years, I have liked any number of Mark Millar books set in worlds other than the Marvel Comics universe. He is an extremely talented writer, currently working (?) on the last chapter of one of my favorite Wolverine comics possibly ever. The other day, I read that Mark Millar was pondering revamping the X-Men in the coming years and I began trembling uncontrollably. “Oh, no! What is he going to do to my paper friends??” Mark Millar will blow up the entire nation of Latveria like it’s a G.I. Joe tied to a bottle rocket, then he will just hand it off for the next guy to deal with. Every time I hear about him mulling over a new Marvel Universe project, I feel like the waiter watching Galactus look over the menu. (Galactus will be explained in a later appendix to the glossary.)
Big Two: The towering titans of the comic book industry, these are the two companies that dominate 90% of the market share for comic books. Their best-selling titles in a given month draw 1/40th of the audience of a summer Friday episode of Are You Smarter Than a Fifth Grader? Neither sells their comics digitally in 2009 A.D. but both are actively developing comics for 8-track tape. The sky’s the limit!
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These are just a few of the terms you need to know to navigate the choppy seas of comic fandom. I am sure others will think of many more to add below. If you still have any questions about comics not related to Dr. Manhattan’s manbits, we can talk about them at our next awkward grocery store encounter. Until then!