


Tomorrow we’ll return to our regularly scheduled blogcast: The Startling Conclusion of the Submission Saga
JayJay Jackson is an eclectic artist, designer and writer who works in all the coolest media. She lives an unstable existence companioned by a couple of sexy beasts, if Freddy and the cat can be called that. She is available for book signings, illustration work and jaunts to Paris.



There was a sniper in the sales department of the Marvel Comics office.
We were hunkered down behind desks, chairs, filing cabinets but we were slowly getting picked off one by one. It was dark but a little light filtered in from the fluorescent lights of the editorial department behind us and from the windows the lights of New York city reached even to the tenth floor. We strained our eyes into the shadowy recesses, trying to see where the shots were coming from, but the sniper might as well have been Sue Storm.
So naturally we had to give up. Being all dead and all.
Jim Novak had started all of the trouble. He was the “miscreant” Jim mentioned in More Strange Tales: War at Marvel. Jim Novak, master letterer and major talent, was the production manager at the time. One day he brought in this cool pump action toy gun he had bought. It fired these soft rubber bullets and it was so cool! The bullpen and even some of the editors couldn’t stop playing with it. So, of course, we all had to have one. We plied Jim with money and waited anxiously until he went to the toy store again.
War was inevitable at that point.
JayJay here. Jim will write about the comic book business and about his work, but he doesn’t often write about purely personal things. Mostly, no doubt, because his work has been the all-consuming thing in his life and he’s never really “off work” completely. But two incidents stand out in my mind that define who Jim Shooter is to me.
Jim wrote this to me in the middle of the night, making me laugh, while I’m trying to paint the fires of hell for a heavy metal album cover, harshing my whole evil vibe! Argh!
Inbreeniation has lept…leapted…jumped upon me, and I have become drunc…drunnch…tipsy.
I will continue working, as I am much better when I am…you know.
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