I started reading comics in my late teens. They were not readily available near me, so when I managed to grab a few books during a trip to New York City, I got hooked. I read and re-read them, and fell in love.

That started a life-long addiction to collecting comic books. Like every collector, I started by getting everything I could put my hands on. Then, I started tuning out stuff I didn't like - either the art, the story or the themes. I bought books from several companies, and gave equal opportunites to old and new characters, and various genres.


I fell head first into the 90s speculation market - buying certain books, or variants (a variant is a book with the same content, but a different cover than the mainstream publication - see above 4 out of the 5 available covers of X-Men 1 by Jim Lee, circa 1991), in the hope they'd appreciate in price (kinda like alt-coins 🙂). And I learned the lesson that speculators in a mass-market learn quickly, or perish: you can't profit from an item that has 200,000 copies available out there, some sitting in $1 bins of comics stores.

So I stopped speculating, and started diving into the content: I started appreciating the quality of the story and art. I started discerning which factors made me like, or dislike a book.  I learned which genres I liked most, which page breakdowns (the way frames are strung together on a comic page) made more sense to me, which art approaches spoke to me more, and made me experience the story in a better way.

Comics are a visual art form. The art needs to move the story, and push it forward. If you need a lot of text and exposition to explain what's going on the page, the writer/artist failed at their job. In fact, some of my favorite issues are ones with "silent stories" - no text whatsoever (case in point: Batman #433 by John Byrne and Jim Aparo - no words needed).

But then I decided to take one extra step, and learn about the way comics are made. Creating comics is a team sport,  where a team of writer, penciller, inker, colorist, letterer, editor, and publisher all come together so that I can end up with a 22-page book, with a stunning cover and a satisfying story. 

So I learned the names and histories of the artists and writers I liked. I learned to understand the subtleties of their approaches to telling a story in comics form. I studied the behind-the-scenes of the industry: who's dependable, who's a jerk to colleagues, who's there for the art, and who's there to make a quick buck (I have no qualms with that - this is an occupation, after all).

But most of all, I learned to enjoy reading comics. For the first time I understood how the book I was holding was made, and that made me appreciate its contents more.

My collection grew and shrank in ebbs and flows. Moving cities (and countries) forced me to sell, or give away most of my collection, and then re-grow it where I sat down roots. eBay, and Reddit made it easy to get entire collections, or specific books. I started subscribing to some online comics, so that I can carry more on my iPad. But I always kept some of the books that I really liked personally. And some have even appreciated in price.

And then Covid hit, and my collection took a sharp turn...

To be continued...