Astonished to Be Back Again
by Dustin Grovemiller
 
I first started collecting comic books back in the days of high school. Like most things at the time, I’d started doing it because some of my friends were into them, and who was I to go against the grain? They’d have conversations about them at lunch, talk about story lines, art, and generally were pretty knowledgeable about the whole scene. So I wanted on board, not realizing that this attempt to be “cool” was in reality moving me down the other end of the spectrum.
 
I picked a perfect time to pick of the hobby, as luck would have it. A guy by the name of Todd McFarlane, now reasonably well known even outside of the comic world, was really breaking out on the scene, drawing the spartanly-named (at the time – no “amazing,” no “spectacular” added to the title) “Spider-Man.” That was the first comic book I bought seriously. Note the gravitas there – I’d bought the occasional comic before, but now I was a collector . Spider-Man #6 was my gateway drug.
 
I still dig Spidey as a character a lot to this day; he’s possibly my favorite still. Even so, at the time -- in my burgeoning sub-career as a comic collector -- I was about to find what would become my book of choice.
 
Many will remember when Marvel did a small reboot of the X-Men, back in a heyday of good writing. The team had grown to such proportions that they actually split them up into two distinct books working on the same timeline. "The Uncanny X-Men" stayed on the shelves in its high-200 number sequence, but a new book simply called “X-Men” (Marvel must have been going though some kind of minimalism period) launched, and when it hit the racks at Finney’s Drugs, I could hardly contain myself. I did my damndest to get every one of the special edition covers that were drawn by another young talent, Jim Lee -- right down the super-special, extra-awesome gatefold cover, which I think I had to trade two other books for to acquire from my friend Ben. True Believer, indeed.
 
I stayed with the book, even getting a two-year subscription, until I graduated and left for college, and my reading habits changed.* Besides, by that time Chris Claremont, the writer that had really steered the book though its recent high period, and the story lines had become less interesting to me. The comics got stuffed into a number of short boxes, which even now are sitting at the bottom of the closet behind me. I’d break out a few graphic novels and read them every now and then, just because I liked the X-Men stories enough, but there was no new serious investment of time or money into getting new books. The golden age of Dustin, comic collector, had come to a close.
 
Now fast forward to some time early in 2004. I still to this day will cull a few particular internet websites that cover things like comics and movies, partly because interest, partly nostalgia, and mostly to kill time at the office. And it was on one of these industry news sites that I saw a blurb that almost made me wet myself. Marvel was rebooting the X-Men universe again (not surprising, since the books had apparently been struggling somewhat) and there was a new title rolling out: The Astonishing X-Men . And the writer for Astonishing was Joss Whedon.
 
Joss. Freaking. Whedon.
 
The creator / head writer of Buffy the Vampire Slayer – which has come to be one of my favorite all-time shows – was writing an X-Men book. Ever since I’ve become familiar with Whedon’s work, I’ve been in awe of his ability to both craft a story and his ability to pepper it with both dry wit and sharp one-liners. The guy has a knack for writing that goes beyond words – it moves into the realm of being able to write a rhythm. So I spent the next few weeks, months – whatever – eagerly looking for more info on the book. And then the day came when it appeared on the Marvel comics website, and knowing that Whedon was working on a year’s contract at least; I bought a subscription without even blinking.
 
After seven issues, the only thing I’ve been disappointed by is the lack of length in the book – more a sign of the times than anything, I’d suppose. I don't think the actual page count has dropped, but all the ad filler somehow makes it seem smaller. So every single issue has been a let down at the end because I want more of it, which I suppose ultimately means that Whedon and artist John Cassaday are doing their jobs. They’re consistently creating anticipation for the next issue. Cassaday’s art is superb, but the writing… oh dear Lord, the writing. Whedon actually manages to bring not only the excellent storytelling, but also his knack for pacing dialogue to the ink on the page. Most excellent stuff, and I can’t do anything except encourage you to seek it out if you’re a fan of comics. It’s the reason that I sit here writing this today, having realized that there’s much more than just reading and collecting comic books. They remain a real and viable medium for both legitimate artists and writers, and I can only hope that others writers of Whedon’s caliber decide to make an occasional foray into the field.
 
 
*Turned 18, got a subscription to Playboy.