A GUEST EDITORIAL...BY MARC HANSEN

(Appeared in all March 1989 NOW Comics books.)

I feel like a weary soldier after three weeks at the front lines. My clothes tattered, blood stained. My eyes glazed over from battle shock. I thought working for a comic book company would be a piece of cake.

Actually working here at NOW Comics has been a great learning experience. For the past three years I've always been on the outside. An artist or writer can never fully understand the business until he or she has engulfed themselves in it.

I was hired on as a staff artist to help out with the other books and to edit my own book, Ralph Snart Adventures. I won't be here long though, just long enough to help out as NOW Comics expands. Starting in January I'll be returning full-time to work on new stories for RSA. I can't wait! I miss the daily grind.

Usually I work full-time as a freelance illustrator for an advertising art studio here in Chicago. I'll still dabble in that. Advertising pays a ton of money, but you get treated like a piece of meat.

As I look back on my first three weeks, I'm amazed at how much work got done. I lettered two books, did back-up inks on another, colored three, inked and colored the Astro Boy cover, and editted RSA. And that's plain laziness compared to NOW's assistant editor-in-chief, Katherine Llewellyn. She's a real work horse. I've gotten along great with her, except she listens to some really bizarre and obscure music. Very primitive stuff.

For all of you youngsters and rugrats out there who want to get into this nutty business, it's not easy. Too many people trying to get jobs in the industry are googly-eyed, sweaty-palmed fan boys with no formal training. Loving and collecting comics is not something that is looked for on a resume. Go to art school, for Pete's sake.

Speaking of art school, if any of my old school chums read this, then write already. And if any of my vagabond friends from Michigan read this, then write to RSA. Speaking of letters, why don't you people write to the crazies at NOW? Of course we can't print every letter that is sent to us, but we do read them! We need your input. We need the laughs too. I've read some hilarious letters addressed to Ralph Snart.

I'm writing this little editorial on one of those new fangled machines, whattaya call'im...oh, yeah, computers. Boy, I hate these things, they scare the bajezzas out of me. I'm only twenty-five years old. You'd thinks this kind of crud would be old hat, but it's like science fiction to this backward bozo. Heck, for the price of one of these babies, I could buy a good used Vokkswagen Beetle, but that's another bitter story.

Oh, no, I'm running out of room. This darn machine is telling me to stop writing. Hah! I'll simply ignore this silly product of our technological insanity and continue my babble-fest! What can it do? Stop inputting? Hah! I just thought of a great story I could tell...........

Marc Hansen

December, 1988