I’m paraphrasing here but I once heard the novelist Steve Berry say: “Writers need to refuel the tank. Travel does that for me.” I had traveled to be in the room with him when he said that. It was at a ThrillerFest writing convention in New York, probably in 2018 or ‘19.

I agreed with his comment. Travel and reading certainly refill my tank. These days, I don’t do enough of either. I’m a married, working, father of three young children (ages 7, 4 and 1).

My son was born in early 2019; my wife, child and I were still deep in our nesting phase when the pandemic struck and then we just plunged deeper into the nesting crevasse. We weren’t manic about it (I don’t think we were anyway), but we were certainly the most Covid-conscious of our larger families and friend groups.

Since then, raising and protecting the small kids has continued to (rightly) limit the scope of our external lives.

We used to travel, we used to go out, we used to have far more personal leisure time for reading and living.

Now, it feels like this: My wife and I are in the center of the ancient Roman Colosseum. The Emperor signals for the guards to unleash three young and wild tigers into the arena. My wife and I can neither leave nor sleep until we tame the tigers. Also, simultaneously, the guards release a few minor gladiators into the arena for us to battle every so often.

The point is we’re occupied. My wife doesn’t get a break-even at night. Meanwhile, I work and parent.

It will not always be like this.

Travel, leisure, and certain self-oriented activities have been back-burnered. What does this do to my writer’s tank of inspiration? Has this precipitated a dry spell? Has this diminished my tank of inspiration?

Kind of, yes. But, again, it will not always be like this.

We’ve not been out of the country in almost a decade. I myself have done a lot of work travel however, and that’s always helpful.

As a family, we’ve extended our range a little bit in recent years. Since my first child was born, as a family, we’ve been to Lake Tahoe, California; Galena; Illinois; St. Joseph, Michigan; and, most notably, three trips to Disney World.

Three trips to Disney World. Why? Of all the places we could go together, why are we prioritizing that? Can’t we do better? Can’t we be more inventive, expansive, or adventurous than that?

Yes.

My wife and her sister used to work at Disney (College Program). Then, my wife became a full-time employee. We were not married but sustained a long distance relationship during this time. I visited her in Orlando frequently, about once a month.

I wasn’t particularly excited about Orlando but, as one would do anywhere, we found places and people we enjoyed. We found our bars and restaurants, friends, and little towns to explore.

During that time and since, Disney has imprinted on me somewhat. There’s a lot that I love about it. I’m not the full Disney psycho my wife is (I say that with love), but I have run a couple Disney 10-milers, I do enjoy the hell out of our family trips, and I am a deeply committed Indiana Jones Stunt Spectacular superfan.

We introduced our kids to it and they-no surprise at all-love it ecstatically. They’re deeply familiar with Disney+ and they look forward to our (now annual?) Orlando trips.

Last month, becaue we are brave, stupid, or both, we returned for five nights with our three kids.

I feel like writing is pretty much my primary identity. I know how that sounds. But I’d put it level (or even just about) the role of parent and husband. It’s just core. Maybe dangerously so.

I don’t know how many times I’ve been to the Magic Kingdom over the course of my life (I’ll guess about twenty. But I do know that when I visit, I experience it through the same writer’s lens I use to view all of my other and more serious travels. I look for and capture inspiration.

I intentionally seek, feel, and absorb what’s before me. At Walt Disney World, it might all be constructed, synthetic, artificial (choose your word), but it’s still loose inspirational material that can be identified, seized, and ingested.

For example: The Maharajah Jungle Trek at Animal Kingdom. If you’ve not done it, do. What is it? A number of tigers available to be viewed in a retreated habitat. It’s constructed as a walking tour through a series of faux-ancient Southeast Asian ruins.

I don’t know if it’s a popular attraction or not, I doubt that it is. Every time I’ve walked it, it’s not been crowded. This helps. It’s quiet, it’s self-paced, it’s a step out of the loud and busy Disney park flow.

Watching tigers play, lounge, swim or sleep is both invigorating and relaxing. This is true of all animal life. Stopping and watching another creature-especially an exotic creature-simply exist is always a clarifying experience. Life observing another (maybe) strange life form can be grounding. In my experience, it’s soothing. I like animals. Everyone should.

This tiger walk attraction… how is this different than a zoo? It’s different in one observable way: Those faux-ancient Indian ruins I mentioned, they’re beautiful and fascinating if you let them be. The slow, calm, exotic-feeling walk can be transportive if one allows it to be so.

Yes, it’s unreal, but so is film. So is fiction itself.

Appreciating it as a constructed experience that connects you-artificially-with beautiful animal life feels as transportive to me as flipping through a National Geographic magazine. In my experience, it’s a direct injection of new color, texture, and story. Pura vida.

Viewed through that lens-that of a writer seeking and being open to inspiration-Disney World is a sprawling theater detailed with hundreds of such offerings.

As a parent, I observe my kids having the time of their life. I watch as they fill their memory bank with positive emotion and experience. We bond as a family. It’s corny and expensive but that’s really what happens.

I never abandon my writer’s purpose though. I never release my intention to be inspired-to refill the tank. I capture those moments of inspiration like a photographer.

Five nights at Disney with a young family is a lot. It’s tiring, it’s trying, it’s costly. But that’s okay. We knew that going in. And vacations end.

I know a trip is over when our plane lands and I feel that first gust of chilled Chicago air as I step on the jetway. Winter and early spring air in Chicago has a specific flavor: It’s like a sharp and frosty blow of automotive exhaust. Once that hits me, then we shift into comedown mode.

(If you have kids, I can offer this one travel tip: Schedule your return on a Friday so they have the weekend to decompress at home. It might be very necessary.)

I love the midwest, in a way. There are problems, inconveniences, eyesores, sure. But it’s where my family’s lives are unfolding-and mine too. It’s home, and I don’t deny it.

We’ll keep going to Disney World as long as our kids are into it. I know it won’t be forever. Someday (probably soon) they’ll want to see other places and cultures not arranged in a curated experience the way WDW is. And when that happens, we’ll do our best to satisfy their curiosity.

Travel, in my view, is necessary at an atomic level. As far as I know, travel and reading are the quickest and most reliable ways to expand one’s mind and heart.

For writers, travel serves multiple purposes. We get that same reliable benefit others experience, but we also get to refill that inspiration tank.

I’ll never lose sight of that essential other purpose. I don’t think any writer would.

###

So how goes it for The X-Men without the stalwart and stoic Professor Xavier?

Pretty well actually.

Cyclops holds it down as interim leader (he gets plainclothes privileges apparently). Coach Cy walks the Danger Room floor, reminding X-Men not to die as they flit and hurl themselves through the ever-confounding game of human Mouse Trap where they spend most of their time.

But even X-Men need a break every once in a while.

Whilst on their “off time,” Bobby and Hank stroll NYC (in barbershop quartet garb) where they stumble across, natch, a little boy trapped on a water tower. “He must have climbed up there as a prank! But now he’s frightened! He can’t make it down!”

Hank takes it upon himself to unleash the most dexterous pair of feet in creation and haul himself up the building to the rescue.

“Tommy” is indeed saved in a jaunty and playful panel. Kirby’s art is always delightful and he’s at his most piquant when playing with motion like this.

But all doesn’t end well for our X-Men.

After revealing himself to be more than human, the mob (previously gathered to stare and worry after Tommy) turns on and physically assaults Hank, who runs and jumps away while covering his face. Nevermind that Hank just saved a boy’s life. He’s a mutant and so he must be mobbed by people who were, moments ago, going about their everyday lives.

It’s unnecessary to put too much emphasis on this, but it is cool to see that, again, these mutants are just allegories for any minority, any marginalized group, any “other” who is suspect or worse on sight.

This comment is about sixty years late but the texture of societal fringe here really does seem admirable for a funny book.

The experience ruffles Hank. Fuming and maybe a little humiliated, he decides he’s had enough of defending a populace that hates and fears him. Scott tries to talk him down but without success.

Hank storms off, leaving the X-Men and the life he knows. Scott, at a loss, reaches out through a hidden machine to contact Xavier for advice.

Xavier isn’t much help in this department because he’s busy spelunking in the Balkans in a motorized wheelchair rigged for caving. Xavier assures Scott that all will be well and to let Hank go for now-though he also offers almost no explanation to what he himself is up to.

Here the narrative jumps ahead in time (how far is unclear) to Hank’s new, ex-X-Man life. Hanging up the hero costume, Hank begins his career anew as-what else?-a professional wrestler.

Makes a kind of sense: as a mutant with superhuman agility, toughness and the body of a gorilla, Beast would be an undefeatable contender in the ring.

Except, Hank’s first match goes terribly. His opponent is-wouldn’t you know it-a mutant himself: Unus the Untouchable.

Unus’s mutant power? He’s pretty m uch wrapped in a useful forcefield. Every strike and blow from Hank is answered with an automatic and unnegotiable deflection.

This power would be pretty handy for a team of supervillains, right? Unus thinks so.

Turns out he’s been campaigning Mastermind pretty hard for a spot on the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants roster. But it’s not that easy, Unus needs to audition first.

Like the boy trapped on the water tower, an opportunity to exercise his stuff comes along pretty conveniently when Unus finds himself walking directly into a violent bank robbery.

Unus decides he could do with the loot himself and takes it from the robbers.

How does Unus’ power really work you ask? How, when his power is automatic deflection, can he touch anything? How can he grab the money bag? How far does his power go? Why is he even capable of wearing clothes?

Well, that’s just how his superpowers work, okay? Conveniently.

Somebody else is asking these questions too. After Unus successfully robs the bank robber, he returns to his apartment where he finds Hank (back in his X-Man uniform) awaiting him with the business end a ray gun.

The effect of the ray gun is instantly clear to everyone but Unus. Taking a page from the Xavier playbook, Beast finds a way to turn the enemy’s power against him.

By dialing up Unus’s Untouchability to eleven, Beast delivers the death stroke.

But then it gets kinda dark. Unus cannot touch anything -including food and water.

It’s unclear what brought Beast back to the team, but everyone’s glad to have him back in the fold (even though he just nearly damned a man to starve to death in front of them).

So, no Magneto and a minimum of Xavier in Issue 8. But you know what? Their absence isn’t really felt.

The focus on Beast feels organic and actually kind of balanced; unlike the case might have been in, say, Star Trek: this never really feels like a Scotty or a Bones episode.

It reads merely like this just happens to be the unique jam the X-Men find themselves in this week.

Maybe it’s the length of the book (thirty pages seems like a lot of comic), but these issues have actual narrative weight.

Must be the jubilant art that makes ’em feel so airy.

Originally published at https://lanetalbot.substack.com.

“It’s come at last! The moment we’ve been waiting for! We are looking at the uncanny X-Men, accompanied by Professor Xavier as they pose before an automatic camera on their graduation day!”

And so issue 7 begins with caps and tassels, scrolled diplomas, and much handshaking and congratulating. Now that he X-Men have graduated, what new rights and privileges are bestowed upon these strapping young mutants? They’re not just gonna keep fighting and going on the same monster-of-the-week style missions, right? Right?

Well, no, something will change. Xavier turns to his team and says that now that they have graduated, he must say farewell.

Like Gandalf, Xavier has some “unfinished tasks” that require his attention elsewhere. So, off he goes without explanation, but not before selecting a “group leader” to act in his stead.

Xavier pulls aside the natural choice, Scott Summers AKA Cyclops, and walks him through the mansion to the secretive west wing. Xavier introduces Cyclops to a byzantine contraption called “Cerebro” (“from the Latin “cerebrum meaning “the brain”!) explaining that its sole purpose is to scan brainwaves and find mutants. This device is necessary to locate mutants while Xavier is away.

The action cuts away to the dark mirror version of the X-Men: Magneto and his Brotherhood of Evil Mutants.

Magneto, in full costume, walks a carnival seeking out a mutant we’ve seen before: the vividly named Blob.

The next pages are a patent recycling of the courting/fighting of Namor we saw last issue. Magneto’s efforts to recruit Blob could use a little finesse (“Blob! I desire to speak with you!”). It’s not the most elegant seduction. Blob rejects the offer to join the BOEM, which causes-what else?-some rough-housing.

One of Magneto’s assaults on Blob results in an impact that “jars loose part of the mental block which Professor X had previously put over the Blob’s memory-!” Blob, remembering his misadventure with the X-Men four issues ago decides to join the Magneto and his Brotherhood.

On the other side of the comic book, the X-Men are at play among the strange and brave frontier of humanity. Hanging in a beatnik club, Beast and Ice Man take in some jazz and a simultaneous “Zen poetry” reading.

This is as goofy, joyful sequence and it’s sad that it comes to an end so soon when Cyclops summons the X-Men to another battle with Magneto (and now, the Blob as well.)

This battle carries on much the way other skirmishes in these books have so far. The X-Men take on a villain or group of villains whose machinations perfectly tee up opportunities to exercise their mutant powers. This is a typical X-Men/BOEM battle, but there is a clever ending: Magneto’s plot to take out the X-Men requires the sacrifice of his newest Evil Mutant, the Blob.

The X-Men survive, as does the Blob (though he takes three missiles to the gut).

Magneto and his team fly off, foiled again. And the Blob’s arc ends on a decidedly sad note.

The takeaway here is that life is rough for a mutant in 1964. Your choices are pretty limited: you can either get the crap kicked out of you by the X-Men and Magneto, or take your chances as a carny.

It’s hard out there for a blob.

Originally published at https://thrillstate.substack.com.

Central Conflict: Namor VS. The X-Men VS. The Brotherhood of Evil

There’s really just no way around the fact that a lot of this seems pretty inchoate.

It’s certain that in the course of the fifty plus years that lay ahead of the X-Men and their careers much of this will get ironed out, sidestepped, retconned, contradicted and/or ignored, but as of “ now “-issue six-there are some inconsistencies.

Questions a reader of this book series might have at this point include:

• Exactly what are Magneto’s powers?

He can, so far, demonstrate total (and pretty much telekinetic) power over any object that is even remotely magnetic (this includes rocks and people). But also, he can project himself metaphysically across great distance (just like Xavier can) and communicate telepathically (just like Xavier can).

• What are mutants? Traditionally, they’re considered the “next generation of homo superior,” right? But in this issue, Namor-an Atlantean-is identified as a mutant which would indicate-one would think-that, by extension, all Atlanteans are mutants, no? And if that is the case, then that kind of upsets the idea of mutants being the next anything.

Is there any reason to think Atlanteans are not older than humans? Maybe Mutants are the originals, and humanity is the next step. Maybe it’s devolution, not evolution. Or maybe it’s just not thought out yet.

But in this issue Xavier and Magneto are both immediately pretty accepting of the idea that the prince of the undersea kingdom of Atlantis could be a mutant. Which. doesn’t. make. sense.

None of this matters much because the point of this comic book series (up through now) seems to be pretty much just to facilitate fun. And it really is doing a bang-up job so far.

Issue Six begins at home, with the X-Men clowning around a table set with a meal cooked by Jean. The requisite light comedy is enacted before Xavier retires from the scene.

He withdraws to his study and, quite matter-of-factly-enters a trance state, whereby he projects a shade version of himself under the OCEAN(!) to seek out the never-before-mentioned (at least in The X-Men so far) character of Namor the Sub-Mariner.

It’s not much of a surprise that these panels are the most beautiful and energetic of the issue. It’s pretty openly psychedelic.

However, Xavier leaves his tasked unfinished when he “senses” Magneto nearby, doing exactly the same thing. Again, how Magneto’s magnetic power allows him to do this is pretty unclear. It’s like if you were really good at badminton, and that somehow also enabled you to trigger earthquakes with your mind.

So anyway, Magneto gets to the undersea king first. Namor, it should be said, is really the star of this issue by the way.

It’s clear from the editorial notes that this is a character who has recently shown up in Fantastic Four where he both antagonized the team and romanced its matron. So is he a villain, a hero, neither? Neither with a capital N.

The action finds its way to another of Magneto’s secret bases, this one a Magnetic island hidden away at sea. (The X-Men show up in a galleon which gets obliterated spectacularly.)

There’s an impressive amount of tension in this issue. The X-Men and The Brotherhood of Evil Mutants are in pursuit of the same “mutant.” Namor is courted by, then pitted in battle against, both the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants and the X-Men. The Scarlett Witch finds herself crushing on the underwater dude and also beginning to question the infallibility of her leader Magneto.

Magneto is subsequently doubted and tested by nearly each of his underlings. And Jean Grey abruptly reveals herself to be jealous of the Scarlett Witch’s beauty.

Not much happens to or changes with our X-Men here. In this issue, they’re actually very much in the background for most of the narrative. The stars are, again, Jack Kirby’s utterly vibrant art and Marvel’s seaguy Namor-who, it should be said, comes across as a pleasantly dimensional chap.

In a mere handful of panels he displays royal surety, pettiness, rage, and forlornness. It will be fun to see if (and how) the X-Men themselves dimensionalize to the same degree.

Originally published at https://lanetalbot.ghost.io on February 2, 2025.

Central Conflict: X-Men vs. The Brotherhood of Evil Mutants

Well, everything is delightfully batshit now.

In a handful of colorful pages, the X-Men save a mutant track star from a raging mob, Magneto introduces us to his homebase on an asteroid, we meet Jean Gray’s clueless parents, a new villain summons illusory monsters, a Toad succumbs to hypnosis, ice-tunnels bore through the raw material of the cosmos itself, and the audience is swung through a wild, chuckling, left turn of an ending.

This is joyful stuff.

After last issue’s explosion rendered Xavier catatonic (or has he just been robbed of his superpower? Sometimes it’s a little unclear), the X-Men return, leaderless, to New York, where they gather in their den to commiserate and watch a track meet on TV. Okay.

When the athlete on the tube reveals himself to be clearly more than human, the crowd turns on him and riots. The X-Men spring into action, arrive at the stadium in-somehow-a matter of seconds, where they rescue the leaping mutant.

But wait! It was Toad, all along, in a disguise to lure out the X-Men. Mission accomplished, Toad.

But wait!! The X-Men re capture Toad.

But wait!!! The Brotherhood of Evil Mutants show up and capture Angel!

The X-Men hold Toad at Xavier’s mansion while the BOEM hold Angel on an asteroid. The remainder of the issue is basically a rescue mission. But wait! Lee and Kirby giddily throw everything against the wall for the final panels.

The asteroid seemingly comes alive to thwart the X-Men; Mastermind conjures a bloated gumball-fish creature, and Ice Man does pretty much the greatest thing ever by reconnecting sections of asteroid wreckage with an ice tunnel so Angel can save Cyclops.

Oh, and Xavier was just faking his powerlessness. I guess. None of it makes much sense, but it is so, so joyous.

Originally published at https://lanetalbot.ghost.io on January 23, 2025.