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This apologetic episode reveals why Eva Marie Saint's death at 102 caused me to reevaluate everything I've shared on this podcast so far, the hidden history of a $600,000 Green Lantern painting, the secret (to me anyway) life of one of my Marvel Comics coworkers, which Scarecrow letter I answered and which one I didn't, what my ancient vouchers have to say about the mid-'70s Jack Kirby letter column controversy, and more.

This episode wrangles with some recent comics-related thoughts, including how Jim Steranko helped me have a 50th anniversary dinner, the surprising way George Lucas secretly surprised us all, my delight over a newly discovered 1972 photo of me hanging out with Howard Chaykin, how Paul Levitz's new book about Marvel's explosive growth proves everything I always thought about my comics career was correct, deciding what to do with my guilt over the life and death of E. Nelson Bridwell, and more.

While shredding nearly 10,000 pages of my accumulated papers, I made several discoveries worth sharing, including memorable hate mail I received while writing Captain Marvel, multiple reasons I'm unqualified to write my own autobiography, a job application at Comico, why I refused to meet editors until after I'd already sold them stories, my unsuccessful score on a DC Comics proofreading test, four rejected Tales from the Darkside pitches which didn't end up published in Elvira's House of Mystery, and more.

I don't have much to say this episode, but I've decided to say it anyway, sharing about the way Stan Lee saved me in a dream, what I was thinking (or not) 52 years ago today on the eve of starting my Marvel Comics staff job, the PTSD of older creators who lived through the creation of the Comics Code, why I won't be writing my autobiography, when I'll be shredding half a century of daily diaries, and more.

This time around, I reminisce about what it meant to have met Gerry Conway in 1971 when I was only 16, the comic book comrades I should have known better but never gave myself the chance, my dreams of decluttering with Bernie Wrightson, the first two origin stories I thought up for The Scarecrow before the one fans got to read in 1975, and more.

This time around, I dream of Action Comics #1, consider how the death of Sal Buscema has me thinking of Vinnie Colletta, decide Jim Salicrup will outlive us all, regret my near-miss with Jim Mooney during my honeymoon, remember the time Mike Friedrich threatened to punch me in the nose, and more.

This episode has me reminiscing about why I think of comics artist John Tartaglione every day, my dreams of Paul Anka's comic book collection and a visit from Gene Colan, my early attempts to get fired from Marvel Comics, a well-earned warning from Marv Wolfman, the puzzle of why covers to romance novels tend to feature aspirational art while comic book romance covers often lean into the problems, and more.

I grow a bit verklempt this time around while I rap about the Spider-Man rock album for which I made sure the band didn't miss a note, remember watching Dave Cockrum and Len Wein create Giant-Size X-Men #1 out of thin air, pass along the surprising truths Steve Ditko's family most wants you to know, critique the Metropolitan Opera's production of The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay, choke up while praising Marie Severin's posthumous induction into the Society of Illustrators Hall of Fame, walk the exhibit hall at Baltimore Comic-Con where only a single item of comics memorabilia tempts me, and more.

In which I track down the Fantastic Four panel which caused me to first enter comics fandom, look back at a 1975 Planet of the Apes contents page where I was credited for no reason I can remember, remain confused about Daredevil's Matt/Mike Murdock subterfuge, laugh at the way "Fabulous" Flo Steinberg gave The Thing a super headache, and more.

Having survived my trip to the Seattle Worldcon, I share a few comic book dreams, learn why I should no longer feel guilty about one aspect of my Omega the Unknown fill-in issue, read up on how Marvel Comics artists felt during the mid-'70s about writers receiving original artwork, explain why the Comics Code Authority didn't seem to understand how to read comics, reveal the way a wolfman was responsible for me being credited on my DC Comics mystery stories, and more.

Rereading my mid-'70s run of Captain Marvel teaches me why I should never have been writing comics in the first place — but it also causes me to reminisce about how I rescued Rick Jones from the Negative Zone, the way the success of Crazy Rich Asians caused Captain Marvel reshoots, the travesty of the Teen Brigade's return, George Tuska's unseen Wonder Man, why I believe in back-shadowing, not foreshadowing, and more.

Tragic events and happy anniversaries cause me to reminisce about the convention where I last saw Jim Shooter, how my immaturity cost me my Captain Marvel gig, my sudden realization DC Editor Mort Weisinger could have had a connection to my quitting comics, the time I considered eating Superman co-creator Jerry Siegel's hair, how the Dreaded Deadline Doom discolored original artwork, my continuing regrets over accepting an assignment to write an issue of Omega the Unknown, and more.

After three conventions in four weekends, I finally catch my breath to celebrate several important personal comic book anniversaries, sort through Marie Severin's classic covers, realize my discovery of horror comics was topsy-turvy, fail to answer a question about how to break into comics, remember Stan Lee's fear of the word "horror," appreciate the increased respect professional writing organizations are now paying comics, look back at the day Jim Shooter stopped sharing original art with writers, wrestle with the morality of my original art collection, and more.

Join me for a rambling panel about Howard the Duck in which I share the Marvel Comics chaos which caused me to be hired there in 1974, my regrets over having written an issue of Omega the Unknown, my ethical queasiness about owning original art, what it means when I say I knew Stan Lee before he had hair, my terrifying Bullpen encounters with "Jumbo" John Verpoorten, what Howard the Duck has in common with the Silver Surfer, my Times Square street theater with Steve Gerber, the time Howard the Duck had to be hatched instead of laid, how immaturity cost me Captain Marvel, the only time I ever saw Stan Lee get flustered, and more.

This time around, I grow anxious over a dream discovery of long-lost original comic book artwork, realize I was wrong about a certain Alan Moore/Frank Miller memory, contemplate the difficulty of condensing the life of Marie Severin into a mere 1,200 words, share the meager remains of what was once a massive comic book collection, remember there's an issue of Fantastic Four I need to track down to solve an early fannish mystery, rededicate myself to Marie Kondo-ing my creative life, and more.