Today, with a deep satisfied sigh limned with the sadness of saying goodbye, I can announce that I am stepping down as the writer of MILES MORALES: SPIDER-MAN.

To be clear, this is an intended ending, not a cancellation. Readers have been supporting the book wonderfully, and I've been given all the space I need to tell the stories I wanted to tell. This is a long-planned exit, with the symbolically significant issue #42 having been a target departure for some time now. That oversized special issue is out in September with an all-star roster of Miles artists and this PHENOMENAL cover by the great Taurin Clarke.

I've been trying to find a way to sum up how I feel right now, but words fail me depsite being a writer. When Marvel asked me to take over writing Miles' main series in 2018 I was thrilled but also intimidated. There's a particular pressure that comes from tackling a much-beloved but newly minted hero. But I really believe iconic superheroes become icons by having their stories told from many angles by different sorts of people. So I took my shot. In the many many months since I've put more of my time and energy into MILES MORALES: SPIDER-MAN than any other project I've ever been a part of. I tried to make it a book about family and community. About coming back from trauma and helping others to do the same. About what responsibility means in our world today. And, uh, about beef patties and gloopy clones. For nearly four years this book was the center of my creative and professional life.

Obviously there are a lot of powerful emotions involved in wrapping a work like this, even when it's done under the best of circumstances. Some of those emotions are personal and private. Something that's not, though, is the sense of gratitude I feel in having been a part of telling a character like Miles' story. Gratitude toward Miles' creators Brian Michael Bendis and Sara Pichelli. Gratitude toward my amazing collaborators, in particular Nick Lowe, Javier Garron, Carmen Carnero, Christopher Allen, David Curiel, Cory Petit, Marco D'Alfonso, Patrick O'Keefe and Taurin Clarke.

But most of all, I feel gratitude toward the incredible community of Miles fans and readers I've met -- both virtually and in person -- along the way. At local signings, at big conventions, at online Q&A's, in random conversation -- when you talk about Miles Morales, people's faces light up. And I love them all -- the old-school Marvel heads, the kids who only picked up the comic because of the SPIDER-VERSE movie, the cosplayers (shout out to Khalid Brooks!), the playlist-makers, the fan artists, the theorists (OK, the theorists are a little scary but I still love you). Working on a character as beloved as Miles, a hero that rallies all of these folks together, makes you keenly aware that the character's story is bigger than you.

And part of that awareness is knowing when to let go. It’s about that time.

My relationship with Miles isn't exactly parental -- others created him and raised him in his early years. But because of the amount of time we've spent together (and, ahem, given my age) I feel almost like an uncle. I won’t spoil what's next for him. But know that I am very protective of this young man. And that I can say with confidence that there is VERY exciting Miles news coming, the sort that makes me geeked for the direction Brooklyn's own Spider-Man is heading.

Miles Morales is here to stay. You guys are gonna be thrilled to see where he goes next. And for my part, it's been an honor and a privelge doing my little bit to help him get where he is today.