An (Unsolicited) Introduction To A Trade Paperback That Doesn’t Exist (Yet): Johnny Hiro

I hate Fred Chao, the comic book creator.

No, not Fred Chao the person. He’s very nice, very funny, and humble about his gifts as can be. I like that Fred Chao a lot, from our limited interactions at MoCCA and over e-mail. (We still have to do that thing, guy. I know, we’re both busy. My people, your people, etc.)

I’m talking about hating the Fred Chao that puts together the book you’re holding right now. Johnny Hiro. Oh, how my teeth ground when I saw that name in the solicitations. I don’t like pun-based names, especially Hiro-related ones because, hey, I read Snow Crash. After someone like Neal Stephenson calls their lead character Hiro Protagonist and NBC’s biggest hit in years features a hero named Hiro, it’s obviously pretty pointless to go in that direction. Of course, nobody told Fred that, and here we are, with me hating that he makes it work as well as he does, professional jealousy causing a vein in my forehead to pulse in time to ABBA’s “Fernando.”

And this is writerly jealousy, which is a particularly nasty strain of things. Don’t get me wrong, I think Fred’s art sings, especially when he draws action scenes and Johnny’s “sexy girlfriend” Mayumi in the act of being absolutely adorable. It’s just that I can’t draw. Not one bit. Anyone can draw better than me, so Fred’s achievements in that area, while multitudinous, are completely unsurprising in their superiority.

Here’s the thing: it doesn’t really bug me that he’s a better writer than I am. There’s tens of dozens of thousands of people out there that can claim that, too. My problem with Fred Chao is thus: he makes it look easy to do the things he does.

Fred’s characters are clearly defined from the moment they hit the page. For example, under almost any other writer, Mayumi’s broken English would be an unbearable roadblock, but Fred makes it work because she’s not just a cute girl who’s there for the hero (sorry) to rescue or come home to. She’s smart, career-minded, and manages to deal with a giant monster attack with the best of them and Johnny’s adoration of her bleeds off the page and into the reader without it seeming cloying or trite. Johnny himself lives up to his last name with a selflessness that’s endearing – I don’t think I’ve ever rooted for Superman or Batman like I did our title character during the second issue’s quest for a lobster to serve a well-known reviewer. (Yes, I got that joke. And the other foodie joke Fred tossed in there. They make me hate him more.)

When you read the stories in this volume, you may feel that twinge of jealousy, too. Act on it. Tell other people about how much you hate Fred and why. In a perfect world, he’d be among the most hated men in comics.

Kevin Church drinks too much, created and frequently writes The Rack (http://www.therackcomic.com), and has somehow convinced real publishers to let him take a whack at ‘real’ comic books for cash money.