It was Frank Miller who gave me the name. I'd been telling him of my plan to launch an imprint at Dark Horse, one that would immediately identify and showcase our line of creator-owned, creator-produced comics-comics (great comics!) like Sin City, Groo, Hellboy, Usagi Yojimbo, Concrete, Madman, and more. After all, despite the wild success of Dark Horse's many movie- and TV-licensed properties, when Mike Richardson hit on this crazy idea to throw his hat into the publishing ring some 14 years ago, he and Randy Stradley sought out creators who would write and/or draw their own material as well as retain ownership thereof. At the time, the mid-'80s, this was still a pretty revolutionary concept-like, y'know, pre-Image and all. Anyway, 14 years later, it seemed to me the time was ripe for Dark Horse to get back to its roots. And-wouldn'tcha know it?!-when I finally approached Mike about all this, Fearless Leader had beaten me to the punch by having already begun to formulate exactly the same plan!

But I was stumped by the name. I just couldn't figure out what to call the damn thing! I knew an imprint would provide a kind of recognition for creators and their projects within the larger scope that is present-day Dark Horse. I knew it would group together diverse titles already in the works, like Gary Gianni's Monstermen and Tony Millionaire's Sock Monkey, but would also provide a home for new, upcoming projects, like Christian Gossett's Red Star or Jason Pearson's second Body Bags series-or even Search for Prime, a Grendel novel profusely illustrated by creator Matt Wagner and written by popular crime-fiction scribe Greg Rucka. But what to call the imprint?

I wanted a name that would reflect the spirit of individualism driving all these creators and their work, but "Renegade" had been appropriated in the '80s. I wanted a name that would unite the unique visions of each distinct creator, a "paradoxical" enterprise at best-but DC Comics and Andy Helfer had already beaten me to that name! I wanted-I needed a name. So I called Frank Miller.

And he didn't even give me the chance to ask. His immediate response to the idea of this imprint was enthusiastic. And then, without skipping a beat:

"You know what you have to call it, don't you?" he asked, as if I were somehow prescient.

"Uh . . ." was my clever reply.

"Maverick, of course." Frank said.

Maverick! That sent me scurrying to the dictionary. (I've always maintained, much to everyone's annoyance, that the difference between a good editor and a bad editor is that a good editor uses a dictionary.) The American Heritage gave me the following definition, reprinted here virtually intact:

mav•er•ick (mav'er-ik, mav'rik) n. 1. An unbranded range calf or colt. 2. A horse or steer that has escaped from a herd. 3. An independent-minded person who refuses to abide by the dictates of or resists adherence to a group; dissenter. -modifier: maverick politicians. [After Samuel A. Maverick (1803-1870).

God bless Frank Miller! And God bless Samuel Maverick, a Texas cattleman who, by refusing to brand his calves, lent his name to the spirit of independence-that same spirit that spurs individual creators to come up with their own characters and concepts. There was a time, in the comics industry, when certain publishers were labeled "independent"-to distinguish them from the New York-based conglomerates that refused to offer creators' rights to the same writers and artists who kept them in business. Dark Horse was one of those early "independents," offering ownership, royalties, and partnership to the creators who made it possible for Mike and Randy to publish in the first place. These are roots worth remembering and a philosophy worth reinforcing. And with the new millennium just around the corner, Dark Horse's Maverick line will blaze a trail into the future for those important ideals of the past.

-Diana Schutz
 senior editor