I received several questions about this video to which I linked. It's the one from a San Diego TV station that has a history covering the San Diego Comic Con — these days, known as Comic-Con International. Someone who identifies as "Just Call Me Dennis" sent three questions which I shall now attempt to answer here. First, Just Call Me Dennis asked…
You've been to that con every year. What year or period of years was your favorite?
Probably the first few because everything was new and everyone was just so gosh-darned happy that the event existed at all. Also, when it was smaller, you knew a pretty hefty percentage of all the people there, whereas today I know maybe 1%, 2% tops.
But I've pretty much enjoyed every one of those conventions. There was a period when I was — as impossible as this may seem — bored with the con after a day or two. I didn't want to sit behind a table and I had nothing to sell and I had no "connections" to be made or nurtured for my career. So I sometimes just ran out of Things To Do. Finally, once I'd intensified my participation in the programming — i.e., hosting or appearing on panels — that problem went away.
What is there that you enjoyed at early cons that is no longer there and you miss it?
Well, seeing certain people, of course. And it wasn't just those certain people. I loved meeting and talking with folks who created the comic books or cartoons of my youth. Almost all of them are gone and they ain't coming back. Still, I have reached the age where I am no longer shocked or upset when people who were once in my life are no longer in this world. Ideally, I'd like everyone to live forever but I'm not surprised when they don't.
In the video, Ray Bradbury said that there was about to be a comic book based on his stories. Did that ever happen?"
Ah, here's one that triggers an anecdote. I'll try to make this as brief as possible but will doubtlessly fail. Bradbury's work has occasionally been adapted into comic book form, most notably by EC Comics back in the fifties. In the video, he was telling that newsperson about a specific project that was then pending and I happened to have been involved in it.
Basically, an acquaintance of mine had the idea that there should be something called The Ray Bradbury Comic Book. That was what he wanted to call it. If it had happened, I think it would probably have been called something more like Ray Bradbury's Amazing Tales but that's not why it all fell through. This fellow had an "in" to Bradbury so he approached the man and said something like "May I shop the idea around to publishers?"
Ray was open to the idea but no terms were discussed. Those would have to be hammered out with Ray's agent or lawyer or someone if/when this acquaintance of mine found a legitimate publisher…which he did. He went to Western Publishing Company (aka Gold Key Comics) — a firm for which I was then writing and told them I had sent him. I hadn't but, hey, that's what friends are for, right?
As things turned out, they were interested. Western at the time was publishing some decent-selling comics full of "ghost stories." That's what they called them even though many of the stories did not involve ghosts. We're talking about Boris Karloff Tales of Mystery, Twilight Zone and Mystery Comics Digest, and they'd recently added a book called Grimm's Ghost Stories. There seemed to be room for more such titles.
Those comics were produced out of Western's New York office. The Bradbury book would have been produced out of the Los Angeles office, which was the office for which I was then writing. The chief editor there, Chase Craig, said something like, "Hey, if Bradbury's okay with it, let's have Mark be the writer-adapter." That was okay with me of course but it amazingly turned out to be okay with Ray as well and I'm not sure why. True, he knew me and we'd spent time together…but I don't think he'd ever read anything I'd written. Anyway, that's how I got involved.
There were a couple of meetings and a couple of phone calls and then it all went kablooey.
One thing I've learned in this business (and in others in which I've labored) is that something can be "99% set" on Monday and by late Tuesday, the project's as dead as dead can be. You might guess in this case that it was because they couldn't make a deal with Mr. Bradbury but no. He and his agents/lawyers/whatever were fine with the terms Western's business folks proposed.
I was fine with what I'd be paid. The artists — we had Dan Spiegle and Doug Wildey lined up — were fine with what they'd be paid.
So what was the snag? It was that acquaintance who'd instigated this whole thing. He was not fine with what he'd be paid. Having no clue as to how much a book like this could reasonably be expected to gross, he tossed out an outrageous cash demand and vowed he would never back off that figure. If sheer stubbornness counts for anything in this world — and it shouldn't — he stuck to his asking price. He killed the whole deal but he stuck to his asking price.
And it wasn't just that. Marvel Comics had recently begun putting "Stan Lee Presents" on every story and he demanded his name appear in the same manner. He also wanted veto power over anything he didn't like even if I, Western's editors and even Ray Bradbury approved it.
He intended to veto there being paid advertising in his comic book. I wasn't present when this happened but reportedly one of the editors at Western told him, "If we don't have ads in it, we'll have to charge way more for the book." To which he — also reportedly — replied, "Well, I'll veto a higher price tag on my comic book."
Yes, by now he was referring to it as "his" comic book. They made him a final — and I thought, perfectly reasonable — "take it or leave it" offer. To which he smugly told the business guy at Western, "I'll leave it. When you're ready to meet my terms, you know where to find me." Then he sent a letter threatening to sue the company out of existence if they tried to proceed with any Ray Bradbury book without him.
And that, then and forever for all eternity, was the end of that. A year or three later when they hadn't come to him and begged to make the deal on his terms, he was still proud of how he'd handled the whole matter. He actually said with a grin, "I didn't let them cheat me!"
Thereafter, whenever I saw Ray, he'd say, with a sad note, "That's what happens when you try to do business with amateurs." I have a lot of stories about getting involved with amateurs and Ray Bradbury, I'm sure, had a lot more. Maybe we should have adapted them into a comic book. The story of how that Ray Bradbury Comic Book didn't happen would have been more unbelievable than anything in The Martian Chronicles.
