My Secret Identity

By Don M. Ventura

I read comic books.

For me, that has not always been the easiest thing to say. And it still isn’t. I’ve been reading them ever since my Mom bought me my first book: Uncanny X-Men #149 while grocery shopping at Skaggs. Skaggs is long gone, but I believe that X-Men book is still plugging along.

And in those years I have gone from voracious fan to casual reader to stopping all together. And back again. I’d now describe myself as a comic book enthusiast (who is no longer fooled by crossover events or variant covers).

There are hobbies and interests that immediately pigeonhole you into a certain category faster than you can say Comic Book Guy. Reading comic books is such a hobby. Even after a decade where superhero films been embraced by the general public, the source material has not been met with the same enthusiasm. Were it, there would be no need for a “Read Comics in Public Day”, which passed a few weeks ago.

As adult as the themes may get, whether you are reading Superman, Fables, or Chew, there continues to be a stigma that this method of storytelling—and it is an a method of storytelling—is for kids. Or at least a juvenile pastime. Because we are still talking about people running around in capes and boots, or fairytale characters solving murder mysteries, or men with the ability to psychically connect with their consumed food.

And the Comic Book Guy, 40-Year Old Virgin, the social-retarded characters from The Big Bang Theory have only helped to foster the stigma. If I reference an affinity for comic book reading—and I consider the term Graphic Novel a total copout—I am invariably treated to a Comic Book Guy or Big Bang Theory reference by a non-comic book reader. Yeah, those rabid fans exist, but they are not the model of a comic book enthusiast. In the same way I don’t believe that a sports fan is a beer guzzling, loud obnoxious boar. Do these types exist? Yeah, of course.

But I thoroughly recognize that this is nobody’s problem but my own. Right, wrong, or otherwise, in the end, I am unfortunately saying that I care what people think of me. Strangers or not.

So I question if something like “Read Comics in Public Day” does more bad than good. When I first read of it, it simply confirmed what I had originally been thinking: “So I must not be alone in this.” We would probably be better served with an initiative called “Get over yourself and read your damn comics wherever and whenever you like. Loser.”

When I step back and reflect on this, I’m talking about something I have embraced since I was ten years old. Comic books have been there when I was a shy lonely kid in middle school who needed his imagination piqued, helped me bond with my twin brother when we started reading them again at 30, and they’ve given me the inspiration to start blogging about them.

Maybe I just needed two strong Cher slaps in the face and a “Snap out of it!” to knock some sense into me. I don’t know that tomorrow my Facebook status will be “I’m coming out of the closet: I read comic books” but the days of hiding my enthusiasm are behind me.

Make mine Marvel! And DC! And the rest!