My son was attracted by the cover of a Spider-Girl comic, so we bought it. It’s the last one, apparently; the series is being canceled. She will now appear in the pages of Spider-Man Family, whatever that is.

I’d never heard of Spider-Girl. But if I were going to create a comic called “Spider-Girl,” I’d probably aim it at kids, especially girls. Maybe make the art a little manga-y. Try for some romance, some humor. I wouldn’t even necessarily try to connect it to Spider-Man all that closely; certainly I wouldn’t go hog wild on the continuity. After all, if you’re a, say, 8-year old girl, you probably haven’t read every issue of Spider-Man that’s come out in the last 20 years.

Or, you know, you could go the other route, and for your final issue have a plotline that involves the return of the Green Goblin and references forty years of continuity, with highlight flashbacks to — the first battle between Spidey and the Green Goblin! and to — the death of Gwen Stacy! You could throw in ten different iterations of the Green Goblin himself, and have most of the action take place inexplicably in the brain of Peter Parker, who you can tell is old because he’s grown some absolutely hideous facial hair, apparently, the only way Marvel artists have figured out to show that a character is aging. You could have a clone of Spider Girl waltz on stage because hey, we drooling Spidey fans all know that Peter was cloned once, and besides, why the hell not? And, hey, why not have the last panel of your last comic be a gratuitous crotch shot of your barely pubescent protagonist, because that just screams class. And after completing this triumphantly incomprehensible tribute to fanboy wankery, you can slink offstage, wondering why it is your ass got canned.


Extra bonus points for including two pages of letters at the end, all of them — every single one — penned by guys.