Today in pulp I look back at one of the most terrifying British comics of the 1970s: scary, supernatural and just for girls: Misty.
IPC comics already had a reputation for tough titles by 1978: Action comic had been denounced in parliament for its violent content. But Pat Mills wanted a vehicle for fearful supernatural stories and persuaded IPC to run with his idea: a mystery comic aimed at girls.
Rival publisher D.C. Thompson had already launched its own supernatural girl's comic Spellbound in 1976, but Misty would be in a league of its own when it hit newsstands in 1978.
Mills had just left IPC's 2000AD comic when he set up Misty, although he would only be a consultant editor on the new title. He took the comic's name from the film Play Misty For Me.
Misty stories focused on the occult, horror and the supernatural. It boasted of "Stories NOT to be read at night!" But Mills had wanted it to be even stronger in its storytelling, and apparently believed the comic pulled its punches a little.
Like many IPC titles Misty had a 'narrator' who introduced each issue - the eponymous Misty, drawn by Shirley Bellwood. Her role was to be a point of entry for the reader to the various supernatural stories.
Misty stories were far from ordinary however: in the Four Faces of Eve the amnesiac heroine discovers she is a re-animated entity made from the corpses of four different girls and her 'parents' are actually scientists monitoring her. Pretty strong stuff for a pre-teen audience.
The Sentinels was a story of two huge tower blocks, which were actually gateways to a parallel Earth where the Nazis had won the war. School of the Lost was a macabre twist on the boarding school story, where parents paid a special 'tribute' for their children's education.
But Misty's lead story was Moonchild, about a girl with telekenetic powers. IPC had a habit of borrowing themes from popular movies, and Moonchild is a story strongly influenced by Stephen King's Carrie.
Misty also included a number of single stories, normally across three or four pages. The panel layout often emphasised the drama: lots of jagged edges and tightly framed images.
There's no doubt that Misty was hugely popular with readers: the first issue sold a quarter of a million copies. It genuinely treated pre-teen girls as a mature and savvy audience that would enjoy gothic tales of terror and the occult.
However IPC was notorious for merging comics, even popular ones, at short notice. Sadly in 1980 Misty was merged with Tammy, and soon the supernatural horror stories faded away...
Misty Christmas annuals continued to be issued by Fleetway Publications up to 1986. These mostly contained old stories as well as quizzes, puzzles and jokes.
Misty stories were genuinely frightening, reusing a number of horror movie concepts from the 1970s. It's doubtful whether parents ever knew exactly what their children were reading, though the readers knew they were enjoying it.
Fortunately Misty stories have now been republished by Rebellion comics, so if your mum threw your old issues out you can finally read 'em again. Do check out the epic Misty fan site as well: mistycomic.co.uk/Welcome.html
Will there ever be another Misty? Who knows. Comics of the 1970s treated children as an intelligent audience, and weren't afraid to push the limits of 'appropriate' storytelling for them. That's why we remember them so fondly.
More stories another time...
• • •
Missing some Tweet in this thread? You can try to
force a refresh
He was the terror of London; a demonic figure with glowing eyes and fiery breath who could leap ten feet high. The penny dreadfuls of the time wrote up his exploits in lurid terms. But who was he really?
Today I look at one of the earliest pulp legends: Spring-Heeled Jack!
London has always attracted ghosts, and in the 19th Century they increasingly left their haunted houses and graveyards and began to wader the capital's streets.
But one apparition caught the Victorian public attention more than most...
In October 1837 a 'leaping character' with a look of the Devil began to prey on Londoners. Often he would leap high into the air and land in front of a carriage, causing it to crash. It would then flee with a high-pitched laugh.
Today in pulp I look back at New Zealand's home-grow microcomputer, the 1981 Poly-1!
Press any key to continue...
The Poly-1 was developed in 1980 by two electronics engineering teachers at Wellington Polytechnic, Neil Scott and Paul Bryant, who wanted to create a computer for use in New Zealand schools. Education Minister Merv Wellington liked the idea and gave it the green light.
Backed by government finances, and in partnership with Progeni Computers, Polycorp was formed in 1980 to began work on the prototype for the official Kiwi school computer.
It was the biggest manhunt in Britain: police, the press, aeroplanes, psychics all tried to solve the disappearance. In the end nobody really knew what happened. It was a mystery without a solution.
This is the story of Agatha Christie's 11 lost days...
By 1926 Agatha Christie's reputation as a writer was starting to grow. Her sixth novel - The Murder of Roger Ackroyd - had been well-received and she and her husband Archie had recently concluded a world tour. But all was not well with the marriage.
In April 1926 Agatha Christie’s mother died. Christie was very close to her: she had been home-schooled and believed her mother was clairvoyant. The shock of her sudden death hit the author hard.
Many readers have asked me over the years what my definition of pulp is. I've thought about it a lot, and the definition I keep coming back to... well it may surprise you.
Let me try and set it out.
There are lots of definitions of pulp out there: in books, in academic papers and on the web. And most circle back to the same three points: the medium, the story type and the method of writing.
Pulp is of course a type of cheap, coarse paper stock. Its use in magazine production from the 1890s onwards led to it becoming a shorthand term for the kind of fiction found in low cost story magazines.