I killed the Blue Beetle.
It wasn't my intention. It wasn't premeditated. It was murder by omission. I killed him because he slipped my mind.
I had intended to send for comics once I'd settled into my new home but time just slipped away from me and I never meant to just let it go on for weeks and then months without a new pamphlett. But when I got here life moved so fast and I had a backlog of regular books I caught up on, and I had a new job to learn and a new place to explore and the time just slipped away. You know how it is. And there was always trades through Amazon.com and the mail and I could get back issues. Surely the book was safe. But I was wrong, it dipped below the cancellation line shortly after I crossed the ocean and Jaime paid a heavy price for my shameful neglect.
It may sound melodramatic, but I killed this book. Yes, yes I did. And I must take the blame for this, not because I didn't buy something that didn't interest me or that I didn't buy something I didn't want or that I didn't buy something that I couldn't afford but that I didn't buy something that did interest me, that I did want and that I could afford.
Of course, I didn't do it alone. I had accomplices in this crime. I wonder how many of my accomplices were out there. And I wonder why they didn't buy.
I wonder how many of my accomplices simply found life in the way of their reading habits, as I did.
I wonder how many of my accomplices wanted a fun, playful book with a sympathetic hero who passed this on the stands because it wasn't starring a familiar character.
I wonder how many of my accomplices wanted a fun playful book but passed this by because they thought a hispanic teenaged replacement for Ted Kord was a gimmick and would die quickly.
I wonder how many of my accomplices would have adored this book but were hoping it would fail so that Kord would be resurrected.
I wonder how many of my accomplices read scans of this book online, complained that their favorite series wasn't so lighthearted anymore and then passed by this book on the shelves in favor of the very book they complained about.
I wonder how many of my accomplices wanted DC to publish more books like this, but were angry and irritated at the state of other books in the DC line and so they passed on this as part of a boycott. A way to punish an editor who changed things a bit too much.
I wonder how many of my accomplices dropped it because of the Spanish-language issue and some political misgivings about it.
I wonder how many of my accomplices read scans of this book and chuckled and made notes to themselves to buy it next trip to the shop but just never got around to it.
I wonder how many of them are sorry to see the book go. I wonder how many of them will discover it in trades or backissues years down the road and will wonder why this book isn't being published still.
Oh well, we'll survive. This isn't the first book I've killed. This isn't the first book I've read that's been killed. It isn't even the best book I've killed. It certainly won't be the last or probably even the most lamented. Still, I have to wonder if I had bought my copy, if the people who showed some curiosity had bought their copies, if the people who complained about their favorites getting too dark had skipped a month and bought their copy and if the people who were boycotting the company had bought their copies how things would be different at the moment in not just Blue Beetle, but in other books put out by DC.