"Lowball" Collecting 4 4

[Happy Noodle Boy]

I started a thread a couple of months back asking if anyone actually preferred low-grade comics to high grade comics, not just because they were cheaper, but because they actually prefer the aesthetic of low grade books. (Not surprisingly, no one, including me, was willing to make that leap.) I was asking because my preoccupation with condition has resulted in me feeling more and more alienated from collecting. And I'm not a 9.8 guy either, or a slabber. I just like my stuff in near mint with nice corners and well-centered wraps, that's all. Nevertheless, it's somehow sucking the fun out of things for me.I remember when I was a kid first getting into back issue collecting, I hardly even looked at the condition of a book beyond "Does it have its cover? Are all the pages there?" I want to get back to that kid. 

Anyway, Le Chat Noir mentioned something about "lowball" collecting being a thing in coin collecting, but I never followed up on it and forgot about it until today, when I did some googling. AND WOW. That is exactly what I was referring to. These lowball coin collectors like the low grade coins for what they are, not just as placeholders until something graded higher comes along. I was intrigued by one of the coin collectors who mentioned that a low grade coin has a hidden history to it that makes it so appealing--who knows how many hands it went through, who knows what it purchased? Maybe FDR had it in his pocket. Maybe someone flipped a beat-up old quarter and made a major life decision because it came up tails? That history is everything. It isn't just some perfect specimen struck at the mint and sold immediately to a collector, never to be touched again. The flaws give the coin character.

And comics are even better for lowball collecting than coins, because there are so many potential kinds of damage to a comic that signify specific things. Date stamps. Date stamps from stores. Kids writing their names on the cover, or filling in an order form on the back cover. Coupons cut out. A subscription crease. Maybe some kid filled out a crossword puzzle or solved a maze, or filled in the cover logo with magic markers. Maybe they drew a viking beard on Captain America. And then there are the spine ticks. Every tick means a person handled that book. The more spine ticks, the more often a book has been enjoyed.

This is one of those dangerous moments when I think to myself: sell it all and start over. Collect in a different way. Stop obsessing over corner damage and miswraps and enjoy your comics. Sell the mylars and the backing boards too. Buy books in VG, don't bother with plastics or backing boards, and just put them in a box. But before you do, READ THEM, and think about who read them before.

It’s tempting.

   

[KCOComics]

 

What I get the most joy out of in the hobby right now is buying G to VG raw 1950s horror (pre-code, though I usually buy the much more affordable post code) and sci-fi books.  

I like up handle them,  read them. I love the way they look in a box,  bagged and boarded and all lined up. 

I still collect slabs and some high grade BA horror. But there is something to be said for handling books. Smelling old paper - looking at kids drawings and writing. It's just a different way to enjoy the hobby. 

I wouldn't dump your collection yet. Just pick up some raw books and see what you think.... read then and enjoy them. 

[wiparker824]

I just got back a vintage sub of 25 books which ranged in grade from 0.5 to 5.0 with most being in the 2.0-3.0 range. They are all PC books, none for sale.

The last batch of modern I got back were 25 mostly 9.8’s. I’ve sold almost all of them. 

Do I prefer low grades? No, not really but other people seem to prefer high grades more than the money they’re willing to give me for them that I then turn around and buy low-mid grades with. 

I will say I enjoy finding the low grades that I find acceptable. It’s easy to find a modern 9.8, there’s really no hunt to be had, just need to open the wallet. But with a low grade silver or golden age book there are certain flaws I’m okay with within the grade and certain ones I’m not. This is all personal preference but for example I don’t mind at all a child’s name written on an old book in the corner, but a defacing of the art where they drew mustaches and horns on the characters I’d prefer not to own. It’s about what you’re getting at, that kid wrote their name as way to keep track of their book, they took great pride in owning it and didn’t want it to get mixed up when they swapped it with a buddy. Theres a story in the ownership of that book. Or another example - I don’t mind a coffee cup ring stain on the book but a moisture damaged book that has mold and/or rust I’d prefer not to own. I could go on forever but you get the point. If I decide I want this book in a 3.0 it’s a lot harder to find THE 3.0 I’m okay with. And that part of the hunt is enjoyable for me. If I just looked for the high grade versions of these books, I could find them, but the whole process is kind of sterile and dull to me. 

Do I think you should start over? No. Just do what you already said stop obsessing over minor damage and enjoy the books.’

[themagicrobot]

On 8/20/2024 at 3:06 AM, Happy Noodle Boy said:

This is one of those dangerous moments when I think to myself: sell it all and start over. Collect in a different way. Stop obsessing over corner damage and miswraps and enjoy your comics. Sell the mylars and the backing boards too. Buy books in VG, don't bother with plastics or backing boards, and just put them in a box. But before you do, READ THEM, and think about who read them before.

No need to sell and start over. Just relax and enjoy comics. I have comics in every condition and as you said, often the condition they are in tells a story. I bought this Strange Tales Annual from a secondhand bookstall when it was maybe three or four years old. It was in quite good condition then. However that summer we went on a week's camping trip from school. I took along that comic (and others) and they were passed around and read and re-read by me and my friends. Somehow it survived that trip, my various comic collection culls, house moves etc and has over time become one of my favourite possessions. I could buy a slabbed copy in better condition for £££s but it wouldn't be MY copy.

These Archies may be in poor condition but they tell a story. Having made their way across the Atlantic ocean they wind up in Len Miller's warehouse in London. Perhaps it was Len himself who stamped the UK price of 9d. They would have been originally sold in a Newsagents but later made their way into the secondhand marketplace. Someone evidently missed Len's stamp on the Pep and wrote 9 (for 9d) on the cover. Later came a 6 (so it was resold for 6d). The Laugh even has the 6 (for 6d) crossed out and found a home for the princely sum of 4d. I'm sure both comics were "read to death" and enjoyed by children who will now be elderly. 

 

[Ken Aldred]

Even though I’m a severely obsessive-compulsive collector with a perfection bias, I also see the polar opposite focus of collecting and keeping, not upgrading, of beater copies as being just as relevant. 

One has to recognise that everything has a spectrum, and you find the position on that range which works best for you, whatever matches your personality type the closest, is the most natural, comfortable and fulfilling. 
 

Not all mint maniacs are total, inflexible snobs, some of us are quite liberal, tolerant and inclusive.
 

There, it’s just another spectrum of opinion to consider.

Edited August 20 by Ken Aldred

[marvelmaniac]

For me it was always about affordability, completing runs on a tight budget, however, things were different before the internet.

From 1979 - 81 (Mail Order) and from 81/82 to 2002 it was all LCS's (1st one I found was in 81/82), small shows and larger con's (if one became available in your area. Back then con's were actually about comics, not pop culture, yup, talkin about you, Wizard World. When you went to your LCS or show you had a list of books you were looking for and if you found any, even if they were low grade and you really wanted a copy you needed to pull the trigger or it may not be there later on.

In 2002/2003 eBay came along and my buying got out of hand, I was buying extremely low grade books for the price and so I actually had a copy.

Now that I am 69, I look back and wonder..."Why??? 

Here are a few examples of my "Extremely Well Loved Books".

 

[LowGradeBronze]

I love to get a stack of books out (Strange Tales 150 to 168 on the table now,) leaf through them and not worry about damage because they are already low grade (2.0 to 4.0 appx). That's the freedom you get when you just decide to enjoy them. You'll get there. You've had one Eureka moment already. I still handle mine with care, I want them to stay in one piece, but also with an awareness that they are just comics and that I'll get the best value from them by reading and enjoying them, or else having them on display. They brighten up the room! 

[Happy Noodle Boy]

Thanks all for your insightful comments. I'm still dealing with this reassessment of what I collect and why, and, to put it in perspective and perhaps to offer insights some of you may find interesting, I'm going to share with you my history with comics, the ways in which my collecting has evolved, and how I came to this strange impasse, in which I know I love something, but am trying to figure out how best to do it. (Warning: this might be a little long.) 

Like, I suspect, all of you, I started off buying individual issues of comics, in my case at neighborhood variety stores and newsstands off of spinner racks. I was probably about six or seven. It was the 1970's, the Spider-Man cartoon was on my television every afternoon, and like all children I lived for Spider-Man. (It's the costume. It has some mysterious visceral appeal to children.) My comics buying started as a way for me to have more Spider-Man, and was of course strictly regulated by the generosity of my parents on any given day. ("You want a quarter for a funny book?") 

A couple years later I had discovered the paperback reprints Marvel was releasing through Pocket Books. These paperbacks reprinted six issues each of characters like Spider-Man, the Fantastic Four, Doctor Strange, and the Hulk, starting from the beginning of their runs, and I bought them all. I started with Spider-Man (three volumes were released) and expanded from there to the Fantastic Four (I had encountered them in the first issue of Spider-Man) and the rest. I can't overemphasize how foundational these paperback books were for my comic collecting. They were like going to Marvel School. And I noticed that the stories were better than the ones coming out every week on the spinner racks. I still remember reading the fourth issue of Fantastic Four for the first time and being absolutely enthralled by the Sub-Mariner and the gigantic walking whale he unleashes on New York City, and only poor Ben (at that time looking very monstrous and not at all the "bashful blue-eyed Benjamin" he would later become as his look was refined and some of his rough edges smoothed over) could stop the creature, by wearing a bomb strapped to his back and walking into its mouth! I now understood that Marvel had a vast, mysterious and utterly fascinating history. I had to know more. I was officially a Marvel Maniac. 

At this time my comics and my pocket paperbacks were in piles on the small bookshelf in my room, stored flat. No plastics, no backing boards, no comic boxes. I hadn't heard of them yet. "Condition" literally did not enter my mind. You bought the comic off the rack and you read it and threw it on the pile. All the pages were there; that's all that mattered. If I went back in time and tried to explain to my nine-year-old self about condition he would literally not understand. You can still read the book, right?

By age eleven I had discovered a little hole in the wall coin / comic shop called Giarla's Rare Coin Studio. This was in my home town of East Boston, Mass. I discovered it when an acquaintance of mine said that they had Superman #1 for sale. By this point I had greatly expanded my comics buying and was familiar, generally, with all the major Marvel and DC characters. The DC characters I discovered through the Super-Friends cartoon. But although I liked the DC characters on TV, I found their comics lacking. I had also read with interest the occasional newspaper article devoted to how comics were collectible and that some of them, especially the first appearance of Superman, were worth a lot of money. I promptly walked into Giarla’s, which was exactly large enough for a total of two customers to shop at the same time, and said, "Do you have Superman number one?" To which Mister Giarla replied, "Do you have three-thousand dollars?" He then pointed up at the Superman Famous First Edition treasury on the wall, and said, "But I have a reprint of it for two dollars." He took the treasury down off the wall and let me look at it. I had never seen a treasury before. It was a cool new way to read comics. I bought that treasury (it was okay, nothing special, nowhere near as good as Spider-Man), and lots of other ones too, and filled in the blanks of my comics knowledge with the history of the previously unknown DC Golden Age. And I kept coming back to Giarla's after that, week after week, every Saturday morning (he was open on Wednesdays and Saturdays.) I was usually the only customer, and he and his partner (a man about his age--his brother maybe? I never did find out) were very generous with their time, chatting with an 11-year-old kid about comics history, the importance of first issues, the proper way to pronounce "Sub-Mariner", and protecting comics in plastic bags. He had a couple of quarter bins full of comics that weren't in plastics and, behind the counter, a box of more expensive back issues that were in plastics. I would save my allowance money to buy $5 books from that box, including the first appearance of the Inferior Five and Binky #1. These were collectible, you see. You kept them in plastic bags, no matter how goofy you thought they were after you read them. He also introduced me to the Overstreet Price Guide, and sold me one (he ordered it for me.) Here's where I began to understand about "collecting" comics, and that condition mattered. Everything changed.

After this I put all my comics in plastics, stored upright in a long box. (At some point I started using backing boards; I forget exactly when.) Every week I was on the hunt for new first issues. Man-Thing #1 (second series.) Shogun Warriors #1. Moon Knight #1. These were prized objects and they made me giddy with excitement. But it took longer to buy comics now. Instead of just pulling an issue off the rack, I had to inspect them to get the best copy. Comics weren't just stories. They were collectible objects. They went in plastic bags in a box. My collection expanded as Marvel got better and better in the early 80's under Jim Shooter. I had two full long boxes by the time I was fifteen, and I had even gone to the Million Year Picnic with my mother, who bought me Daredevil #7 for $7.50. I was a collector now.

Then I started dating. By the time I was 19, the collection went away. All those books in plastic bags stored upright in boxes were a pain to hold onto and they just didn't entice me anymore. In their plastic bags, alphabetized, they had become more collectible objects than stories. The boxes were heavy. The books were always sliding around inside the boxes. It was a hassle. 

I got back into comics a few years later, as I had heard about the DC Archives: having the opportunity to read all the golden age Batman stories, in order, was too enticing to pass up. (They mostly hold up, but Batman was better before Robin.) They were printed in a hardcover book. It was the 1990s, and trade paperbacks were becoming a thing. Trade paperbacks didn't need plastic bags or long boxes. They were far less hassle to deal with and a better deal for the money. I got back into comics--but I only bought collected editions. As the years went by and Marvel and DC and Dark Horse reprinted essentially everything, it was a viable way to collect. I was reading stories for grown-ups now, in book format. Preacher and Madman and Sin City. The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen. The Marvel Masterworks. Dark Knight Returns and Watchmen. (I had owned the floppies a decade before; now I bought the trade paperbacks.) It was all very...grown-up. But some essential magic was missing. I enjoyed not having to bother with plastic bags and boards and long boxes, but these weren't exactly comics. I couldn't put my finger on it, but something was missing.

I got back out of comics again in the early 2000s--sort of. I got rid of my trade paperback collection and switched to digital instead. Much more convenient. After moving a few times over the years I was thoroughly sick of hauling trade paperbacks around. Unfortunately, I never did find a comfortable way to read digital comics. My computer screen was too large and not shaped correctly. Tablets are too small and their weight eventually becomes a noticeable distraction if you're reading for a while. And holding them one-handed, as intended, is an awkward way to read something that's supposed to open out like a book. To this day I haven't found a way to read a digital comic comfortably. I can read digital books just fine on my Kindle Fire; books look great on it. But comics? No. I got out of comics again around 2012, knowing that Comixology had my purchases saved if I ever wanted to read them in some uncomfortable fashion again.

That brings me to the present. I got back into comics again in 2021 (perfect timing!) This time I was all in on the collectible aspect rather than reading. I wanted a collection of cool golden, silver and bronze age books with cool covers, and I could afford some, within reason. Although I don't like slabbing, Comixology's influence on the hobby, along with ebay shopping, nevertheless changed the way I collect: covers are much more important to me now. Which means, of course, that a book's condition has to be important too, for those covers to look as good as they can. And I haven't read most of the books I've purchased for this new collection. Because I haven't been collecting books I would necessarily want to read, but instead I've been collecting books with great covers from my favorite artists.

One focus of my new collecting though, has been to explore titles I never gave a second, or even first, glance to as a kid. Archie books, and bronze horror. And I do intend to read those. But when “condition” means so much, reading a comic is a little bit nerve-wracking. I miss the books just sitting on a pile on a shelf.

So after that long-winded preamble, I guess I can sum up my situation thusly: I’m trying to figure out how to interact with comics, and what they mean to me. I can never go back to the childhood days of comics being only for reading, because as an adult the collectability of them isn’t lost on me, and they can be truly beautiful objects. But they are still created to be read. They aren’t art prints. An analogy I keep coming back to would be: if you were a rich man who collects classic cars, would you ever buy one that you had no intention of ever driving? Would you buy a 1957 Chevy Bel Air only to look at it, parked in your garage? Sure, the thing’s beautiful. It would in fact be extremely fun to look at. But to never drive it, ever?

And I’ve read a lot of comics over the years, and a lot of them were great. But the idea of collecting all those runs of books all over again, and then to have to put them all in bags and boards and boxes again, and watch as they eat up all my space…it doesn’t sound like fun. I don’t need to own every comic I ever enjoyed as a kid. I don’t need to own some random issue of Roger Stern’s Spider-Man or Simonson’s Thor. I don’t need 100-issue complete runs. Maybe I’m all superhero-ed out. Maybe that’s a big part of it: I’ve done the whole Marvel Universe continuity thing. As fun as it was, I really don’t feel like reading all those books yet again.

I feel like there has to be some perfect balance I can strike, some way of enjoying comics as reading and as collectibles, in a comfortable format, that won’t take over my entire house and be a pain to deal with. Some series seem like they work better as trade paperbacks (Preacher comes to mind.) I’m considering a part trade paperback – part floppy comics collection that still involves collecting great covers by great artists. But there is a purist part of me that just wants to buy floppies only, not put them in bags, and just store them upright in a box. Like Gaines file copies. Gaines didn’t use bags or boards and look how good those books look.

The bottom line is the more hassle they are to deal with, the less fun comics are to collect. And I want to collect comics. Right now I’m leaning toward a collection of mid-grade floppies without bags and boards, all standing upright in short boxes. For some reason those damned bags and boards really are a psychological barrier to reading. It’s a small thing, but having to take each book out of its individual bag and then seal it back up again when I’m done is just…annoying. Looking at a short box full of books in bags and boards doesn’t make me want to read. But looking at a short box full of comics? Yeah. Those, I want to read.

Thanks for listening.

Edited August 22 by Happy Noodle Boy

[Ed Hanes]

I mostly collect for the covers so a 3.0 ASM 4 is fine by me as long as the major defaults are NOT in face of  the cover..spine splits are fine, edge faults are fine, detached is fine ...just want the color mostly retained and any major creases to have minimal effect

Edited August 22 by Ed Hanes

[Krydel4]

On 8/20/2024 at 10:58 AM, marvelmaniac said:

For me it was always about affordability, completing runs on a tight budget, however, things were different before the internet.

From 1979 - 81 (Mail Order) and from 81/82 to 2002 it was all LCS's (1st one I found was in 81/82), small shows and larger con's (if one became available in your area. Back then con's were actually about comics, not pop culture, yup, talkin about you, Wizard World. When you went to your LCS or show you had a list of books you were looking for and if you found any, even if they were low grade and you really wanted a copy you needed to pull the trigger or it may not be there later on.

In 2002/2003 eBay came along and my buying got out of hand, I was buying extremely low grade books for the price and so I actually had a copy.

Now that I am 69, I look back and wonder..."Why??? 

Here are a few examples of my "Extremely Well Loved Books".

 

Yes. What a complete eyesore those books are. You need to get such a horrible collection out of your presence asap. I'll be the good guy here (and as the thread title goes) I'll help you out and take them all off your hands for $100 (you'll have to pay the shipping though) Wadda ya say?🤔

Edited August 22 by Krydel4
Clarity

[David-Lance Roten]

I decided to scan then bag & board some of my comics from back in the day like Disney, Tom & Jerry, etc. Had a blast doing it. The books have honest wear. But also have character and hold memories as well. I'm an almost "any grade" collector these days. If I enjoy it and can have fun with it, why not.  

 

[youfoundjake]

Myself, I'm a completionist first and foremost, so low grade issues are in my wheelhouse.. still trying to finish an uncanny x-men run, missing about 24 issues, #1 being the most obvious.  I am fine with a low grade copy, it helps to complete a set.  I have around 8000 comics ranging from beaters to slabbed 9.8's.  If I'm completing a set, condition is secondary. 

[KirbyJack]

I have always been very comfortable with low grade comics. I remember passing up high grade books so I could afford 2 or 3 readers. These days I’m only buying Comics that I can read and not worry about. 

These were all bought in the last couple of years, and I paid less than sticker! 

[Happy Noodle Boy]

On 8/22/2024 at 10:30 PM, KirbyJack said:

I have always been very comfortable with low grade comics. I remember passing up high grade books so I could afford 2 or 3 readers. These days I’m only buying Comics that I can read and not worry about. 

These were all bought in the last couple of years, and I paid less than sticker! 

I agree with the sentiment that books that can be read without worrying about them are awesome and perhaps even preferable to my current 9.0+ collection. But for myself I would prefer midgrade books--say, 5.5 - 6.5 as MCS grades--to low grade books. Also, certain defects would still be a problem for me. I don't want a book with pieces missing, or large stains, or tears, or a significant miswrap. But creases and spine ticks galore are fine. They give a book character 

I was also considering selling off my more expensive books and rebuying them in mid-grade to save some money, but with current prices I would probably only break even. So I'll keep them. Right now I'm wondering if I dare take my Werewolf By Night #32 out of its mylar bag and just store it naked upright in a box with the rest of my proposed new collection. But I honestly think I would get more enjoyment out of it that way. Right now, in its mylar bag with a backing board, I have the satisfaction of knowing I own it. But, stored without the mylar bag, I would have the satisfaction of actually pulling it out of the box and looking at it regularly. That's the thing: for some reason, and maybe I'm unique in this but I don't think so, once a book is in its plastic bag taped shut and stored away, the idea of reading it becomes a bit of a chore. I know opening the bag and removing the tape and taking the book out only takes about ten seconds. But still. There's some kind of psychological  barrier there.

Edited August 23 by Happy Noodle Boy

[themagicrobot]

I recently purchased this comic in a fit of nostalgia. When I first had a copy someone pointed out to me that there was a spelling mistake on the cover. I explained that in the UK and Australia it may be spelt "neighbours" but Lois spells it differently. Lois also never says humour, flavour, labour or favour. 

PS: Regarding ease of access those comic bags with easy seal tops are ideal. Any good stationery shop sells folders with a dozen or so clear sleeves ideal for comics. If you want something sturdier I have a number of these on my bookshelf to store my favourite (?!?) comics although they are rather pricey and are meant to hold only six issues. I put twelve in mine!

 

[spracknetch23]

I've always cared most about the presentation of the front cover. A well-presenting book with a back cover or interior issue that is 1/4 of the price is a great thing. That being said, I do like the story to be completely intact. But a non-story coupon missing or missing chunk from the back cover is fine with me if the price is right. 

[Robot Man]

I just love comics period. I always have. I have lots of super high grade books including pedigrees like Mile Highs. But I have loads of low grade books even coverless and complete. I bought them as I found them often paying very little for them. I have read most sometimes several times or at least paged through them including the high grade ones.

I upgrade as I go along if I really want to but love the beaters just as much as the HG ones.

I just love comics period…

[marvelmaniac]

On 8/22/2024 at 5:01 PM, Krydel4 said:

Yes. What a complete eyesore those books are. You need to get such a horrible collection out of your presence asap. I'll be the good guy here (and as the thread title goes) I'll help you out and take them all off your hands for $100 (you'll have to pay the shipping though) Wadda ya say?🤔

     

[LowGradeBronze]

Your collecting journey was great to read, Happy Noodle Boy, especially about Giarla's. Like you, I discovered bags long before boards were a consideration. Like you, I got to a point in my collecting when I was maybe 15 or 16, when I had to have the best copy on the shelf, then took it home and stored it and I cannot recall reading those books. I just leafed through to see the art then set them aside. I never got the best value from those comics. I had to buy lower grade copies (in some case many years later,) before I could really get the best from those issues. (Think John Byrne X-Men 108 to 143 as an example.) 

Given where you are now, would collecting Treasury Editions be of any interest? They are an underrated format and can be stored raw, but maybe not upright! 

In your position, I'm not sure I would take WWBN 32 out of its protective bag/board and stack it loose with other books. I avoid any tape or seals on my books for exactly the reasons you state, that unsealing the bags is often enough hassle to put me off taking it out the bag. Don't like mylars much either, because returning a book to a mylar is a pain requiring the comic to be sandwiched between two boards to effect safe entry. The edge of a mylar will damage a book too easily. 

Why can't your collection be a mix of the different approaches? High grade slabs, high grade bagged/boarded for you as the 'adult collector', plus a glorious box of loose lower grades to satisfy you the 9 year old comic lover. I have a doubles box in the living room where many of my favourite books that Ive bought second copies of in lower grades can be accessed fast for reference or just to enjoy the art carefree like 9 year old me. I still take care of them, but they get handled and sniffed a lot. If I want to recall 1973 I just close my eyes and sniff.....heaven. Memories and smell are intricately linked. Give 1973 a sniff today! 

As we grow up in many ways we become more complex creatures than we were when aged 9. But part of us, however complex we have become, still needs the simple pleasures we took for granted at that young age. It reconnects us with our past. That's why comic collectors are so passionate. That's the journey I feel you're on now. 

 

 

Edited August 24 by LowGradeBronze

[Coverdeath]

On 8/22/2024 at 8:25 PM, Happy Noodle Boy said:

Thanks all for your insightful comments. I'm still dealing with this reassessment of what I collect and why, and, to put it in perspective and perhaps to offer insights some of you may find interesting, I'm going to share with you my history with comics, the ways in which my collecting has evolved, and how I came to this strange impasse, in which I know I love something, but am trying to figure out how best to do it. (Warning: this might be a little long.) 

Like, I suspect, all of you, I started off buying individual issues of comics, in my case at neighborhood variety stores and newsstands off of spinner racks. I was probably about six or seven. It was the 1970's, the Spider-Man cartoon was on my television every afternoon, and like all children I lived for Spider-Man. (It's the costume. It has some mysterious visceral appeal to children.) My comics buying started as a way for me to have more Spider-Man, and was of course strictly regulated by the generosity of my parents on any given day. ("You want a quarter for a funny book?") 

A couple years later I had discovered the paperback reprints Marvel was releasing through Pocket Books. These paperbacks reprinted six issues each of characters like Spider-Man, the Fantastic Four, Doctor Strange, and the Hulk, starting from the beginning of their runs, and I bought them all. I started with Spider-Man (three volumes were released) and expanded from there to the Fantastic Four (I had encountered them in the first issue of Spider-Man) and the rest. I can't overemphasize how foundational these paperback books were for my comic collecting. They were like going to Marvel School. And I noticed that the stories were better than the ones coming out every week on the spinner racks. I still remember reading the fourth issue of Fantastic Four for the first time and being absolutely enthralled by the Sub-Mariner and the gigantic walking whale he unleashes on New York City, and only poor Ben (at that time looking very monstrous and not at all the "bashful blue-eyed Benjamin" he would later become as his look was refined and some of his rough edges smoothed over) could stop the creature, by wearing a bomb strapped to his back and walking into its mouth! I now understood that Marvel had a vast, mysterious and utterly fascinating history. I had to know more. I was officially a Marvel Maniac. 

At this time my comics and my pocket paperbacks were in piles on the small bookshelf in my room, stored flat. No plastics, no backing boards, no comic boxes. I hadn't heard of them yet. "Condition" literally did not enter my mind. You bought the comic off the rack and you read it and threw it on the pile. All the pages were there; that's all that mattered. If I went back in time and tried to explain to my nine-year-old self about condition he would literally not understand. You can still read the book, right?

By age eleven I had discovered a little hole in the wall coin / comic shop called Giarla's Rare Coin Studio. This was in my home town of East Boston, Mass. I discovered it when an acquaintance of mine said that they had Superman #1 for sale. By this point I had greatly expanded my comics buying and was familiar, generally, with all the major Marvel and DC characters. The DC characters I discovered through the Super-Friends cartoon. But although I liked the DC characters on TV, I found their comics lacking. I had also read with interest the occasional newspaper article devoted to how comics were collectible and that some of them, especially the first appearance of Superman, were worth a lot of money. I promptly walked into Giarla’s, which was exactly large enough for a total of two customers to shop at the same time, and said, "Do you have Superman number one?" To which Mister Giarla replied, "Do you have three-thousand dollars?" He then pointed up at the Superman Famous First Edition treasury on the wall, and said, "But I have a reprint of it for two dollars." He took the treasury down off the wall and let me look at it. I had never seen a treasury before. It was a cool new way to read comics. I bought that treasury (it was okay, nothing special, nowhere near as good as Spider-Man), and lots of other ones too, and filled in the blanks of my comics knowledge with the history of the previously unknown DC Golden Age. And I kept coming back to Giarla's after that, week after week, every Saturday morning (he was open on Wednesdays and Saturdays.) I was usually the only customer, and he and his partner (a man about his age--his brother maybe? I never did find out) were very generous with their time, chatting with an 11-year-old kid about comics history, the importance of first issues, the proper way to pronounce "Sub-Mariner", and protecting comics in plastic bags. He had a couple of quarter bins full of comics that weren't in plastics and, behind the counter, a box of more expensive back issues that were in plastics. I would save my allowance money to buy $5 books from that box, including the first appearance of the Inferior Five and Binky #1. These were collectible, you see. You kept them in plastic bags, no matter how goofy you thought they were after you read them. He also introduced me to the Overstreet Price Guide, and sold me one (he ordered it for me.) Here's where I began to understand about "collecting" comics, and that condition mattered. Everything changed.

After this I put all my comics in plastics, stored upright in a long box. (At some point I started using backing boards; I forget exactly when.) Every week I was on the hunt for new first issues. Man-Thing #1 (second series.) Shogun Warriors #1. Moon Knight #1. These were prized objects and they made me giddy with excitement. But it took longer to buy comics now. Instead of just pulling an issue off the rack, I had to inspect them to get the best copy. Comics weren't just stories. They were collectible objects. They went in plastic bags in a box. My collection expanded as Marvel got better and better in the early 80's under Jim Shooter. I had two full long boxes by the time I was fifteen, and I had even gone to the Million Year Picnic with my mother, who bought me Daredevil #7 for $7.50. I was a collector now.

Then I started dating. By the time I was 19, the collection went away. All those books in plastic bags stored upright in boxes were a pain to hold onto and they just didn't entice me anymore. In their plastic bags, alphabetized, they had become more collectible objects than stories. The boxes were heavy. The books were always sliding around inside the boxes. It was a hassle. 

I got back into comics a few years later, as I had heard about the DC Archives: having the opportunity to read all the golden age Batman stories, in order, was too enticing to pass up. (They mostly hold up, but Batman was better before Robin.) They were printed in a hardcover book. It was the 1990s, and trade paperbacks were becoming a thing. Trade paperbacks didn't need plastic bags or long boxes. They were far less hassle to deal with and a better deal for the money. I got back into comics--but I only bought collected editions. As the years went by and Marvel and DC and Dark Horse reprinted essentially everything, it was a viable way to collect. I was reading stories for grown-ups now, in book format. Preacher and Madman and Sin City. The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen. The Marvel Masterworks. Dark Knight Returns and Watchmen. (I had owned the floppies a decade before; now I bought the trade paperbacks.) It was all very...grown-up. But some essential magic was missing. I enjoyed not having to bother with plastic bags and boards and long boxes, but these weren't exactly comics. I couldn't put my finger on it, but something was missing.

I got back out of comics again in the early 2000s--sort of. I got rid of my trade paperback collection and switched to digital instead. Much more convenient. After moving a few times over the years I was thoroughly sick of hauling trade paperbacks around. Unfortunately, I never did find a comfortable way to read digital comics. My computer screen was too large and not shaped correctly. Tablets are too small and their weight eventually becomes a noticeable distraction if you're reading for a while. And holding them one-handed, as intended, is an awkward way to read something that's supposed to open out like a book. To this day I haven't found a way to read a digital comic comfortably. I can read digital books just fine on my Kindle Fire; books look great on it. But comics? No. I got out of comics again around 2012, knowing that Comixology had my purchases saved if I ever wanted to read them in some uncomfortable fashion again.

That brings me to the present. I got back into comics again in 2021 (perfect timing!) This time I was all in on the collectible aspect rather than reading. I wanted a collection of cool golden, silver and bronze age books with cool covers, and I could afford some, within reason. Although I don't like slabbing, Comixology's influence on the hobby, along with ebay shopping, nevertheless changed the way I collect: covers are much more important to me now. Which means, of course, that a book's condition has to be important too, for those covers to look as good as they can. And I haven't read most of the books I've purchased for this new collection. Because I haven't been collecting books I would necessarily want to read, but instead I've been collecting books with great covers from my favorite artists.

One focus of my new collecting though, has been to explore titles I never gave a second, or even first, glance to as a kid. Archie books, and bronze horror. And I do intend to read those. But when “condition” means so much, reading a comic is a little bit nerve-wracking. I miss the books just sitting on a pile on a shelf.

So after that long-winded preamble, I guess I can sum up my situation thusly: I’m trying to figure out how to interact with comics, and what they mean to me. I can never go back to the childhood days of comics being only for reading, because as an adult the collectability of them isn’t lost on me, and they can be truly beautiful objects. But they are still created to be read. They aren’t art prints. An analogy I keep coming back to would be: if you were a rich man who collects classic cars, would you ever buy one that you had no intention of ever driving? Would you buy a 1957 Chevy Bel Air only to look at it, parked in your garage? Sure, the thing’s beautiful. It would in fact be extremely fun to look at. But to never drive it, ever?

And I’ve read a lot of comics over the years, and a lot of them were great. But the idea of collecting all those runs of books all over again, and then to have to put them all in bags and boards and boxes again, and watch as they eat up all my space…it doesn’t sound like fun. I don’t need to own every comic I ever enjoyed as a kid. I don’t need to own some random issue of Roger Stern’s Spider-Man or Simonson’s Thor. I don’t need 100-issue complete runs. Maybe I’m all superhero-ed out. Maybe that’s a big part of it: I’ve done the whole Marvel Universe continuity thing. As fun as it was, I really don’t feel like reading all those books yet again.

I feel like there has to be some perfect balance I can strike, some way of enjoying comics as reading and as collectibles, in a comfortable format, that won’t take over my entire house and be a pain to deal with. Some series seem like they work better as trade paperbacks (Preacher comes to mind.) I’m considering a part trade paperback – part floppy comics collection that still involves collecting great covers by great artists. But there is a purist part of me that just wants to buy floppies only, not put them in bags, and just store them upright in a box. Like Gaines file copies. Gaines didn’t use bags or boards and look how good those books look.

The bottom line is the more hassle they are to deal with, the less fun comics are to collect. And I want to collect comics. Right now I’m leaning toward a collection of mid-grade floppies without bags and boards, all standing upright in short boxes. For some reason those damned bags and boards really are a psychological barrier to reading. It’s a small thing, but having to take each book out of its individual bag and then seal it back up again when I’m done is just…annoying. Looking at a short box full of books in bags and boards doesn’t make me want to read. But looking at a short box full of comics? Yeah. Those, I want to read.

Thanks for listening.

A pleasure to read it, thank you!