How Exactly Does One Pitch a Superman Book?
But really: a love letter to the editors who know how to make authors magical
Greetings from the worst non-break on a tour. I’m catching up on some random e-mails and debating if I’m recording a podcast from my car or if I spring for a hotel room between SF and Portland. Fun times!
In keeping with using this space to demystify the experience of how comic books get made, I want to share a story that I bring up on panels and such, but now in much greater detail, and with much deeper gratitude for the editors who work tirelessly to make great comics.
A question I’ve been getting since the summer is “What drew you to Superman?” My honest answer is that I wasn’t drawn to him… he flew to me.
Before the pandemic, Michele Wells was heading the young readers line at DC, and she put me in touch with then-editor Diegs Lopez to chat about me doing a project there. I was in the midst of doing a Power Rangers book and Ghosted in LA for Boom Studios, so my YA vibes were strong. Diegs and I set up a meeting, and I decided to come in with a pitch at the ready.
(Pro tip: Don’t assume every meeting with an editor is one where you should try and get work from them, but it’s always smart to have an idea or two in your pocket just to be the cool casual person with great ideas like it’s no big deal.)
There I am, sitting in front of Diegs, and I give her a nearly 40 minute pitch about why I’m the person to tell an epic Green Arrow/ Black Canary “wrong side of the train tracks” high school love story where they stop a modernized (and sexy) Pied Piper from getting drugs to teens. I thought in my head that Green Arrow was a character they wouldn't be too precious about and that I could be trusted in that sandbox to try and tell a dynamic new story. Diegs was so sweet, nodding through it all. Finally at the end, after a perfunctory “yeah, write that pitch up if you feel like it,” she followed with: “But I was wondering how you would feel writing about a teenage Clark Kent dealing with XYZ issues?”
I never thought about Clark Kent because I never thought I deserved to live in his world.
Maybe part of why I’m not more “successful” is that I don’t have great ambitions to take over the industry and leave a lasting mark on the biggest characters ever. I just want to make great comics, and never stop. Some people have imposter syndrome, and I wouldn’t call that my affliction. Fear of being Mid, perhaps? Like, I’m too Mid of a creator to be handed the keys to the Batmobile. I never thought about what my take on Batman or Superman would be mainly because I never thought they’d be options for me as a creator.
Spending a weekend wondering what a teenage Clark Kent is like through my lens turned out to be the most life-affirming experience ever.
Looking back ay my original pitch documents (which I don’t think I’m allowed to share, sadly), the book you have in your hands (YOU ORDERED IT, RIGHT!?) is pretty much the book I wanted to pitch from the get-go. I wanted to write a Clark Kent who is universally compassionate, starting to deal with the gray areas of problems he can’t immediately fix or punch away. I wanted to give love to Smallville as a whole, because I really loved the non-coastal cities I was visiting on tours of yesteryear.
More than that, I wanted to put my high school experience on the page. Much like with Iceman, I wrote from the truth of my own life. The most vulnerable words came from real-life interactions I was having in my teenage years: when teachers didn’t know how to continue with class on 9/11, when counselors had to take entire groups of kids out of school because they saw a classmate stabbed to death at a party. I wanted to give love to people who got lost in the cracks of adolescence, and I also wanted to make Lex Luthor someone you can love to hate like a Chuck Bass character.
Diegs was instrumental in making sure the shape of these deep and bold feelings fit into the mold of how books get greenlit at DC Comics. I can’t remember if I did this with her, but I have in the past asked past editors if I can review documents that get greenlit, so I can see structurally what goes in and what stays in the notes folder on my google drive ‘til go time.
It still feels like a small miracle that the book exists. DC was going through a handful of internal shifts, and I was pitching a book that started with a suicide and ended with a scary act of violence for Clark to stop… in the Young Adult genre… with one of their most sacred characters.
Oh, and Michele Wells was super awesome and daring enough to allow me to pitch the book with me attached as artist, so it really was like “yeah DC, do you want Sina to take on a teenage Clark Kent?”
Diegs and Michele (and later Sara Miller) saw something in pairing me and Clark together that I didn’t see, and here we are! I had a small epiphany yesterday, or a restructuring of thoughts. I hinted before that I’m a bit dazed from this tour, exhausted and wondering if I’m moving the needle at all. Up until writing this specific post, “the needle” was my career, but I was writing this, then procrastinating and watching a video about Alan Moore talking about “the plot” vs “the story” and what a book is about, and I remembered: the touring and promo and podcasts and social media posts and substack entries and all of it is for my version of Superman. These editors believed my version of Clark was something worth existing and now I’m picking up the baton and advocating for how I used this universal and beloved symbol of hope to bring light when darkness feels like it’s always prevailing.
The moral of the story here is: if you’re not the kind of person who thinks they shit gold, then surround yourself with editors who believe in you, and want to work with you to nurture your talent. Look at who’s editing which comic books you like, because that person’s perspective and taste has much to do with how excellently the book comes together.
Thank you again, Diegs & Michele, for believing I can fly. Thank you Sara, for jumping in and giving the book your love instead of treating it like a chore. Thank you Jim Chadwick, for a well-timed text message telling me I should be proud of the finished book. Thank you, Marie Javins, for being hands-on with the cover and making things a little more excellent.
Back to tour!
xoS