THE POWER CLUB Chapter 2: "Tryout"

Chapter 1.

            “ISTHATTHEBESTYOUCANDO?” shouted Veryl Evans as he raced past Damon.

            “That’s not fair!” Damon shouted back.  “Hold still!”

            Veryl—Vee, as he preferred—ran circles around Damon, easily evading the darkspace.  His voice seemed to come from everywhere.  “If we were criminals, we wouldn’t hold still.” 

Damon tried to make the darkspace come faster.  But it came slowly, as always, a gentle cloud flowing out from every pore of his body.  By the time it spread ten feet, Vee was cackling from the other side of Mackintosh Park.

            Damon inhaled, making the darkspace go away, and glowered.  Vee could run faster than anyone else in the district and, though six months younger than Damon, was already a founding member of a club.  Damon, four months past his thirteenth birthday, still hadn’t been invited to join a club.

            That, he determined, was about to change.

            Damon turned to face his next opponent, Danner (“Don’t call me Danny!”) Young.  The fourteen-year-old liked to show off by standing at six feet almost always, but, no matter how tall he could grow, Damon would make sure it wasn’t tall enough.

            Damon closed his eyes and inhaled, envisioning the darkspace flowing straight up as far as it would go.  When he opened his eyes, his “night vision”activated.  Only Damon could see inside the darkspace, though everything appeared black and white, like an old-time cartoon.

            But Danner didn’t appear worried.  He flexed his muscles and started to grow: ten feet . . . fifteen . . . twenty.  Then, to Damon’s dismay, the older kid’s head disappeared—a sure sign that he had grown too large for the darkspace.  Then his torso and legs turned confidently away from Damon and simply walked out of the darkspace.

            “HEY, DAMON!” someone close to him shouted.   “THAT’S A NEAT TRICK!”

            Damon turned to face his third opponent, Kyle Powell.  At fifteen, Kyle was the oldest member of the Power Club and the most powerful.  So why is he just standing in the dark, shivering?

            No one could hear inside the darkspace unless Damon wanted them to, so he willed a hole—“a soundspace,” he called it—to open.  “Hey, Kyle, why are you just standing there looking stupid?”

            If Kyle was embarrassed, he didn’t show it.  “I don’t teleport when I can’t see where I’m going.  Might merge with a tree or something.”

            Perfect. If Damon could defeat Kyle, he’d be in the Power Club for sure.

            “So, is this it?” Kyle said, looking around at nothing.  “Can your darkness do anything else?”

            It doesn’t have to. Damon carefully closed the soundspace so Kyle wouldn’t hear him.  Then he ran toward Kyle.  All I have to do is trip him.  A feeling of immense power overcame him as approached the unsuspecting kid, then—

             . . . fft!

            Kyle disappeared—as did the darkspace!  Damon found himself floating.  He couldn’t sense anything.  He felt as if his body were liquid, being scrambled and rearranged.  His head lay on his torso.  Now it jutted from under his left knee.  His thumb protruded from the opposite side of his hand . . .

            Normal sensation gradually returned.  Blue sky . . . hot summer air . . . birds chirping . . . and Damon found himself standing in mid air.  He fell three feet to the ground, landed on his feet, and fell to his back.  The park spun, and he felt sick.

            He forced himself to sit up, not believing what had just happened.  Kyle teleported ME!  He looked around and saw a huge, twenty-foot, black cloud floating above where he’d been standing.       Awesome!

            It was his darkspace.  The black cloud lingered like a small child separated from its parent.  Then, slowly, it did something Damon had never seen it do before.  It turned grey and vanished, leaving behind its sole occupant, Kyle Powell.   

            Kyle jogged over to Damon.

            “I thought you said you couldn’t teleport when you can’t see where you’re going!”  Damon scolded him.

            “I said I don’t teleport.  A sly grin came to Kyle’s lips.  “But I keep my teleporter field on, just in case.” 

            “But you could’ve—”  As sensation in his legs returned, Damon struggled to stand and talk at the same time.  “You could’ve teleported me into a tree.”

            “Nah.  I know Mack Park pretty well.  I just had to make sure you were a few feet off the ground.”

            Vee and Danner, who had returned to his six-foot size, joined them.  “You musta tried to attack Kyle, didn’t ya?” Danner teased.  “Don’t feel too bad.  I used to do the same thing.”
            “Yeah, but you tried to sneak up on me more than once,” Kyle responded.  “Maybe Damon’s smart and will learn his lesson the first time.”

            They bantered back and forth like as if they had known each other a long time.  But Damon felt both in and out of the group.  He found himself laughing at jokes that weren’t funny.  “So, what happens next?”

            “Now,” Vee answered, “we vote.”

            “. . . in private,” Kyle added.

            Damon took the hint and jogged several feet away toward the sandpit where a group of younger kids—ords, probably—were playing on a slide.  He snuck a glance back once or twice to see the three Power Club members huddling like football players.  When he glanced back a third time, Kyle was running toward him—alone.

            Damon steeled himself.

            “Your power’s okay,” Kyle began, “but it’s not strong enough for the Power Club.  You need more practice.”

The Order Changeth . . . Again and Again: What The Avengers Can Teach Writers about Shaking Things Up

Avengers # 1   © and ™ Marvel.

While I’m waiting for a chance to see Marvel’s The Avengers, let's take a look back at what made the latest super-team to become a film franchise so popular to begin with.

It wasn't heroes such as Thor, Iron Man, and Captain America. 


It wasn't the villains.  


It wasn’t even the writing or art, both of which vary widely from era to era. 

It was the personnel changes.

The Avengers stood apart from other super-teams in that its membership changed—and changed often.  These days, almost every super-team undergoes radical changes, but the Avengers did it first.

The early issues of The Avengers, written by Stan Lee and drawn by Jack Kirby (and later Don Heck), demonstrated how you can shake things up to keep your own stories interesting.

Earth’s Mightiest Heroes . . . and Then Some

The Avengers debuted in the first issue of their self-titled series, cover dated September 1963. To put this in context, very few super-hero teams preceded them: the Justice Society of America (which debuted in 1940), the short-lived All-Winners Squad (1946), the Legion of Super-Heroes (1958), the Justice League of America (1960), the Fantastic Four (1961), and the Doom Patrol (June 1963). The now mega-popular X-Men debuted the same month as the Avengers.

Most of these teams were built around a core cast of characters. The Avengers' fellow Marvel Universe team, the Fantastic Four, for example, always returned to its core cast of Reed, Ben, Sue, and Johnny.  Even when Crystal, Medusa, and others joined in later years, they were temporary stand-ins.  

Over at rival DC Comics, the JLA and the LSH accumulated members, becoming small organizations. This posed enormous challenges for writers, few of whom wanted to squeeze 14 to 25 heroes into stories on a regular basis.

The JSA, during its initial run from 1940-51, lost a few members here and there, but it revolved around a core team that included the Golden Age Hawkman and Atom. After the JSA's revival in the '60s, it, too, accumulated members. 

The Doom Patrol, like the FF, consisted of the same four characters, and the X-Men, throughout the '60s, featured the same five.

Lee and subsequent Avengers writers, on the other hand, regularly dropped members from the roster—and sometimes almost the entire team.

Marvel’s JLA?

The Avengers initially consisted of Thor, Iron Man, The Hulk, Ant-Man and The Wasp. Borrowing an idea from the rival company's JLA, this lineup boasted all of Marvel's heroes at the time who starred in their own series and were not otherwise engaged in a team, except for Spider-Man.  (Lee apparently wanted to preserve Spidey's loner status.)

Marvel, then a small company, published only a few titles in those days, most of which were anthology series held over from the '50s. Thus Thor starred in Journey into Mystery (which was eventually re-titled The Mighty Thor), Iron Man appeared in Tales of Suspense, and Ant-Man and The Wasp co-starred in Tales to Astonish.  After a six-issue series of his own had failed, The Hulk became the second feature in TtA.

It was quite an eclectic team by early '60s standards, and it didn't last.

Changes started happening as early as the second issue.

Over in TtA, Ant-Man changed his powers and his name, and so, midway through Avengers # 2, he appears as Giant-Man. Then, following the team's battle with the Space Phantom (who had disguised himself as the Hulk), the Hulk became the first Avenger to quit, after realizing the others would never trust him.

I can't be sure why Lee instituted two changes in the same issue, so early in the book's run. After all, this risky move was bound to unsettle new readers.  Storywise, however, the second change made sense.  The Hulk, an unpredictable, rage-filled monster, was hardly team material. And, though no longer a member, he continued to appear for the next few issues: In # 3, he teamed up with Marvel's other celebrated anti-hero, The Sub-Mariner, to fight the remaining Avengers.

As for Ant-Man, I suspect this character lagged behind the others in terms of popularity or fan appeal. Even the change to Giant-Man did little to improve his standing: Within two years, he and The Wasp would lose their own series in TtA (replaced by The Sub-Mariner).  

In any event, Giant-Man provided the team with more muscle—they still had Thor and Iron Man in that department—so they needed something different, something . . . patriotic.

Enter: Captain America

Cap, the stalwart WWII hero, joined in Avengers # 4. He brought acrobatic ability, a shield, and an iconic sense of what a hero should be.

Later writers played up Cap's leadership qualities: his ability to lead heroes much more powerful than he is, the reverence other Avengers hold for him, and his sense of duty which inspires the best in those around him. These qualities are evident during Lee's tenure, as well, although Cap spends much of his time hanging out with teen sidekick Rick Jones, and not so much time interacting with his new teammates. Nevertheless, Cap (who joined Iron Man as co-feature of Tales of Suspense) proved overwhelmingly popular with fans and came to dominate the book.  

Still, something wasn't quite gelling. During the next dozen issues, the Avengers fought the likes of Kang, the Mole Man, and Count Nefaria—hardly awe-inspiring or earth-shaking villains.  Lee and artist Jack Kirby seemed to be saving their best ideas for their other books.  And then Lee decided to shake things up by getting rid of almost the entire team.

Leaner, Meaner, and More Quarrelsome

It was a bold move. It had never been done in a super-hero team comic before. But in Avengers # 16, Lee retired all of the original Avengers, leaving only Captain America. 

Who should replace Thor, Iron Man, Giant-Man and the Wasp?  Three much less powerful characters—Hawkeye, Quicksilver, and the Scarlet Witch.  All three had previously been villains.

This sort of thing usually happens when a book is on the verge of cancellation. I’m not privy to Marvel’s sales figures of that time, but it must be noted that the company itself was still small and struggling. The iconic characters we take for granted today were still in their formative stages, and Marvel as a comics publisher enjoyed little more than cult status. The company was a distant and non-threatening competitor in an industry dominated by DC Comics (then National Comics). 

When a company has little to lose, experimentation is welcome. 

And, in the Avengers’ case, the experiment paid off. Although I prefer having Thor and Iron Man on the team, the stories following their departure remain some of my favorites. Lee played off the personalities of his new Avengers, having them bicker and go through personal angst. Hawkeye and Quicksilver challenged Cap for leadership. Cap doubted his place as a hero in the modern world. And everybody fell in love with the token female, The Scarlet Witch—including The Swordsman, a villain who infiltrated the team in # 20.

Furthermore, the Avengers faced real challenges when they fought the likes of Power Man, Kang (again) and Attuma. They had to struggle to win.

Gathering No Moss

By keeping the team small and not being afraid to jettison fan favorites, Lee set the tone for a series which has endured almost 50 years and is now the subject of a blockbuster film. While the Avengers' lineup has almost always included some combination of core characters—Thor, Iron Man, Captain America, The Wasp, The Scarlet Witch, Hawkeye—the team was built on change, and change remains an important part of its appeal.  

If you find yourself stuck in your story, take a cue from The Avengers and shake things up.

If you like this article, you may also like: 

• How To Avoid Writing a “Travesty”: What Avengers # 200 Can Teach You

• 3 Comic Book Stories that “Work”

  
  
  
  

Super-Hero Leaders

Being a leader means making tough choices. But it also means much more. Good leaders inspire others to follow their lead, know their teammates’ strengths and weaknesses, and serve as role models for the entire team.

If you’re the leader of a super-hero team, you must do all of that and call the shots in battle, knowing that every decision you make may cost lives or even destroy the world.

I began thinking about comic book leaders because of a recent discussion on the Legion World message board. In my novel, my 11-year-old protagonist, Damon, has recently been elected leader of The Power Club. Of course, they aren’t heroes—yet. But Damon wants them to become heroes. If he succeeds, what will be in store for him? Will his greatest challenges come from “villains” or from within the team itself?

Probably both.

Here are my thoughts on two comic book leaders, their personalities, and the tough choices they made:

Mr. Fantastic (The Fantastic Four)

Reed Richards is the classic workaholic who is so devoted to his research (or to saving the world from Doctor Doom) that he often ignores his physical needs and his relationships. In the real world, this obsession is not a good sign for a leader, and, even in the comic book world, Reed often pays a price for his single-mindedness.

In Fantastic Four # 112, Reed’s teammate and best friend, Ben Grimm (The Thing) is locked in deadly battle with The Hulk. Reed refuses to join the battle because he is working on a doohickey that will cure The Thing of a condition that has altered his personality, making him more aggressive. Even when The Human Torch tries to fly to Ben’s aid, Reed -- who needs Johnny's help to build the device -- stops him by dousing the Torch’s flame with a fire extinguisher!

Reed completes his doohickey, but too late. He and Johnny arrive on the field of battle just after The Hulk delivers a death blow to the Thing.

(Of course, this being comic books, Ben eventually gets better.)

Did Reed do the right thing? He thought he did. He weighed the options and determined the best path to help his friend. His gambit failed miserably, but that’s the risk of being a leader.

Invisible Kid (The Legion of Super-Heroes)

Unlike super-teams that have permanent leaders, the Legion elects a new leader every year. Invisible Kid (Lyle Norg) was, as his name implies, one of the least visible Legionnaires – a second stringer on a team that included powerhouses such as Superboy, Mon-El, and Ultra Boy. So, it came as a surprise when he was elected leader for one term back in the 1960s. How much of a surprise? Even one of his own teammates didn’t take him seriously.

In Adventure Comics # 350-351, when the Legion admits two masked members, Sir Prize and Miss Terious, Invisible Kid promises that the team will respect their anonymity. However, some Legionnaires suspect that the newcomers are really villains, so Ultra Boy defies Invisible Kid’s order and starts to use his penetra-vision to see through Sir Prize’s lead mask.

What does Invisible Kid do? He asserts his authority by punching Ultra Boy in the jaw.

In the real world, Lyle would probably be brought up on all kinds of charges or even impeached. But it took chutzpah to go up against one of the most powerful Legionnaires. More, Invisible Kid established that, as leader, he was the supreme authority of the Legion and, when he made a promise for the entire team, everyone better keep it!

But what if Lyle had been wrong? What if Sir Prize and Miss Terious actually were villains? That’s the risk the leader must take. Leaders, as Lyle showed, must stand for something – an ideal that rises above unfounded fears and suspicions. In other words, Lyle had the moral authority to decide what was best for the Legion and the integrity to enforce that authority.

Being a leader is not easy in the real world. In the comic book world it’s even harder. But, at their best, real and fictional leaders make the choices we don’t want to make and inspire us to better ourselves.

Leave a comment: Who do you think are the best super-hero leaders and why?