Interview with Mary Wilshire

Mary Wilshire is an American comics artist renowned for her influential work on Marvel Comics' Red Sonja and Firestar. Wilshire's career began in the underground comix scene with her first credited work appearing in Wet Satin #2 in 1978. She joined Marvel Comics in 1980, contributing to Crazy Magazine. In 1983 she became the artist for Red Sonja, including the comic adaptation of the 1985 film. Wilshire co-created the Spider-Man villain Alistair Smythe with writer Louise Simonson and later collaborated with Tom DeFalco on the Firestar limited series. Her talent also extended to National Geographic World, where she illustrated "The Amazing Travel Bureau" feature, and to the graphic novel Fat Free: The Amazing All-True Adventures of Supersize Woman! published in 2006. Wilshire's art has been praised for its sensitivity and sophistication, making an impact in the comics industry and beyond.

Where were you born, Mary? What was your childhood like?

I was born in East Orange NJ, at the hospital where my grandfather was president of the board, East Orange General. My childhood was difficult, heartbreaking and hard to describe. But I was rescued many times. I was saved by the nature outside of the walls of my home and by my ability to draw. I’m sure I have a generational link to people who worked with their hands in the dirt, moving rocks and channeling water because I lost myself in play that way as a kid and still love the same activity.

My mom was an artist before she got married, and even earned a degree. I stole her art supplies and would lock myself in my bedroom laboring feverishly to try to capture physical and emotional likenesses of people whose looks intrigued me. Then I’d hide my sketchpads between the mattress and the boxspring. I think I was trying to parse the mysteries of human relationship for myself to create what was absent in my family.

I was creative as a child, as I believe most children are. But I learned to hide my creativity unless it would serve someone else’s need.

I was utterly fascinated with books illustrated by Maxfield Parrish, Andrew Wyeth, Arthur Rackham and just as fascinated by the work of Jack Davis and Mort Drucker, and the commercial art commonplace in print media at the time. Bill Gold, Bernie Fuchs, Bob Peak, the pulp fiction artists. I studied them with every bit of concentration I could muster, and tried to copy whatever I could. Also, Bill Mauldin, whose work we had in our library I imagine because my mom had been in the Red Cross and was immersed for a period of time in the subculture of soldiers returning from active duty.

I loved reading the funnies on Sunday but only Apt. 3-G and The Phantom. Never really got into comics. I thought for a long time I wanted to be a fashion illustrator, but eventually came to understand that it wasn’t the garments I loved so much. It was the beautifully captured body language, facial expressions and reaction shots of Stan Drake, and of course his superbly rendered women. Meeting him later in life and having him sign a copy of one of his graphic novels is a real highlight in my memory. (thank you, Bill Sienkiewicz!)

I almost got kicked out of school as a preteen for writing a bawdy poem about the nasty gym teacher, and for selling drawings of girls on surfboards to other middle school students for 25 cents apiece. I saw how much my dad liked the art of Alberto Vargas and didn’t understand why I couldn’t embark on the same career path. With virtually no mother to help me shape my identity and a broken father who was a victim of 20th century upbringing I fixated on creating what I thought the ideal woman should be on paper as my own best effort at growing into one myself.

In high school I did cartoons and caricatures of other kids just for fun. I never took money for them. I just loved the appreciation.

I was blessed with a college education at a good school in a horrible neighborhood–Flatbush/Fort Greene in Brooklyn NY. decades before gentrification transformed the area. I took the laziest path through college and graduated with a lot of bad habits and no idea whatsoever of how to support myself.

I sketched portraits on the boardwalk in Wildwood NJ for 2 or 3 summers and had a lot of fun and success with that. I was incredibly fortunate and somehow managed to survive until I got hired as a staff artist in production at Time-Life Books, drawing toilet tank interiors and the like. (A million thanks Rosi)

I don’t remember clearly the exact sequence of events during that time but once again I was saved. A friend (God bless you forever Ira) saw an ad in the NYTimes for artists and writers interested in contributing to an anthology of women’s humor. It was three women; one of them, Ann Beatts, was working as a writer for Saturday Night Live (I had no idea what that was about) while living with the editor of National Lampoon. One of them was an independent author, Deanne Stillman. The third was a graphic designer and humorist married to one of the SNL principals , a guy named Belushi. I got a lot of freelance work from them as they put together “Titters”, the aforementioned anthology of women’s humor.

Mrs. Belushi, aka Judy Jacklin, gave me the gig drawing the Blues Bros. logo.

If only I had had even an inkling of the investment I was wasting on that phone call with the legendary Bernie Brillstein. as they prepared to use my logo art. for no royalties in perpetuity. But this was how I and many of my peers learned about business practices in those days: after the fact, when it was too late to change anything.

It was still great fun, and I’m still thankful.

Somehow during that time, I also got connected with Trina Robbins, who gave me the opportunity to write and draw my own work for some underground women’s comix on the west coast. I think that was around the time I met Larry Hama, probably at one of the strange artist parties I was in the habit of attending. He gave me a chance to try my hand at some pieces for Crazy. I had no understanding of the technical skills required for illustrating material for publication, so many of the early pieces I did were quite sloppy and not well thought out. But Hama was a good mentor and a task master.

I also had no real awareness of the royal road I was walking when I entered the offices of Marvel back then in the late 70s and early 80s. From Crazy, Larry gave me a shot at Red Sonja, and got a legendary inker from the golden age of comics to ink my work, Nestor Redondo, who made my work look 1000 times better than it did when I turned in my breakdowns. Walt Simonson inked my first 2 penciled covers and suffered through my rookie drawing style, making me look again, like a much better artist than I was.( I will never stop being grateful to you Walt) I got to try my hand at several titles, including Conan, The New Mutants, Firestar, and Barbie. I did one terrible Spider-Man issue. By this time, I had picked up a freelance gig illustrating all the talent for the World Wrestling Federation licensing and merchandising, and even though my superhero illustrations weren’t the best, I did well with the wrestlers for a while.

I could never have imagined so many stellar chance meetings and opportunities happening the way they did in my life; I was incredibly fortunate. I’d have to say working for Marvel was a real highlight of my career, and though I did a lot of other different work for publication and merchandising, once I got married and started a family my creative focus shifted to a much deeper and more personal direction. I’m still active from time to time doing art for professional clients, but have expanded my study to learn about painting in a way I missed in college (that’s on me).

I still love to cartoon things that happen from time to time, and Hama taught me an abiding love of the well-crafted visual story.

I love good continuity.

I don’t rule out doing a graphic novel or a strip, I just haven’t figured out exactly how to make use of the best material I’ve lived through without destroying the relationships I’ve worked so hard to nourish with family and friends over the years…I’m not done yet.

What was the difference working for Marvel and independent publishers?

Um, well, ha ha, for independent publishers I got to draw and write pretty much whatever I wanted in whatever way I wanted.

For Marvel, things had to be a lot tighter, much more carefully reviewed and edited for clarity, design and execution.

I never wrote anything myself, and I redrew many pages many times as my editors worked hard to teach me the best ways to present characters, establish POV and context, etc. See Larry Hama’s immortal treatment of Wally Wood’s 22 Panels That Always Work.

Did you submit your work to Crazy Magazine or were you specifically hired for the magazine?

Pure blind dumb luck

What was your first issue?

No idea!

I have to say, the strip you did for the Fantasy/Reality strip in Crazy Magazine, is one of the funniest features in the entire run of the magazine. Was it your idea or an assignment? What was the origin and influence on those?

You are very kind. That was entirely Larry Hama’s baby. Sometimes I got to mess with the dialogue and certain ideas but he was the one who dreamed it up. I just got to enjoy the practice and the paycheck.

I also loved Reginald Pooter’s tales for Teens you did with Steve Skeates. How was Steve to work with? Did you know him?

I don’t think I ever met Steve; I’d just have Larry hand me a script with some general direction about the way he wanted me to handle it. I loved illustrating his scripts because I got to play with my illustration style according to Larry’s direction. On a good day I’d have a chance to meet other artists or writers wandering in to pick up or deliver work and that was always a real treat but I don’t think I ever met Steve

You’ve had an amazing career. You’ve worked on so many projects, so many characters, from Barbie to Red Sonja. What character or book did you like illustrating the most?

Sonja, definitely.

I just wish I had been better at rendering monsters and architecture, weapons, armor and horses. It was only because of Hama that I was forced to study the construction of a siege machine or period costumes from medieval Russia, or anything else. Did I mention how lazy I was in college? I think I could do it better now but my interests skew in a different direction these days. I’d still love to do a romance sometime with the right writer.

Who were your favorite collaborators to work with?

Hama and Louise Simonson, Hildy Mesnick, Shary Flenniken

What memories do you have working on Crazy Magazine?

Just hanging out in the offices there. Met so many great artists and editors, got to hear incredible stories about other artists and writers, see their work in progress. It was tough sometimes getting lectured, scolded and tutored by my editor and made to fix things on the spot but it was also wonderful, unforgettable, a priceless education. I enjoyed the indescribable pleasure of just being in a very large pool of percolating, swirling completely unpredictable creativity. I’d be a liar if I didn’t say that it was fun being a cute girl in the middle of all that masculine energy, though sometimes it was problematic. ‘Nuff said.

How do you feel about people saying that Crazy Magazine was a third-rate rip-off of Mad Magazine?

The answer to that is that everyone is entitled to their opinion. I’d say Crazy was less of a rip-off and more of an homage. I had the chance to tell Mort Drucker to his face, in front of his wife and kids, that he was a living legend and that 2 generations of artists had tried to copy his style–and failed. Later his wife thanked me emotionally saying how much it meant to her for her kids to hear something like that. And that was a sweet moment indeed.

You got my response to this and I’ll stick with it.