Comicsgirl

My real life has kept me preoccupied for the past couple of months. There are comics I want to review (and to those of you who sent me stuff a couple of months ago up until now — I’m going to get to it! I promise I promise I promise!) and other things, but the end-of-the-yearness has set in. Unless something really exciting happens, this is likely it for me until 2012.

This year is already kind of blurry. It was certainly dominated by Small Press Expo for me but I’m OK with that. It was an incredible amount of fun and I’m already looking forward to next year (we’re already working on it!).

I also read a tremendous amount of comics. There were plenty I loved — many I didn’t expect to — and I still get a thrill picking up new comics. Yes, there was certainly some silliness with regard to the DC reboot, but Wonder Woman has me hooked (in a lazy way — I read it when I remember). It was also an amazing year for indie comics — I am awed by all the talent that’s out there.

I didn’t get to travel to shows as much as I would’ve liked to — most of that was a money issue, but I was feeling pretty burned out on the usual ones. I didn’t attempt to go to the MoCCA Festival or New York Comic Con; KingCon III was postponed and as much as I would’ve loved to have gone to Brooklyn Comics and Graphics Festival, the timing just didn’t work out. SPACE was fun but I don’t know if I’d go back. I always love the Baltimore Comic-Con, but that was more of just a hanging out opportunity for me this year.

(I will totally take sponsorships if people want to send me to Stumptown or Alternative Press Expo next year. Kids Read Comics Celebration is taking place in Ann Arbor on my birthday weekend and that’s a definite possibility. It may end up being mandatory.)

For some reason, in 2011, I expanded my “media” “empire.” I started up a Tumblr account (or started using it?) and a Facebook page. I also appeared on local show Fantastic Forum and Rusty and Joe interviewed me during SPX (I need to learn to speak into the microphone better. Also? No real idea what I said).

I was also greatly honored to be a part of Big Planet Comics Podcast #17 and I do hope they invite me back at some point because it was a great deal of fun (you should always listen to the podcast — even when I’m not on it).

And the photo on this post? Well, that’s me sorting through Dean Haspiel’s minicomics. Now, everything is going to the Library of Congress (I believe all are in the LoC’s possession now), but Warren Bernard just wanted to do an initial sort/inventory before we sent them off to see what was there. And certainly, it’s fresh in my mind, but when I think about all the things I’ve been privileged to be able to do this year, this felt like one of the bright spots. It was thrilling seeing all these incredible comics, even if I didn’t get to keep any of them.

I am lucky to know such amazing people who let me do so many cool things. I hope that continues in 2012.

Gingerbread Girl Buy at Powells.com

Annah Billips is an unreliable narrator in Gingerbread Girl (Top Shelf, 2011). Of course, she’s not really the only one who’s unreliable here. In their graphic novel, Paul Tobin and Colleen Coover play with identity, sanity and what makes us who we are.

Annah, when she first introduces herself to readers, is in her underwear and says she’s a tease. She says she dates both men and women but is reluctant to label herself as bisexual. Annah may be slight manipulative — she tells readers she’s made two dates and she’s going to go out with whoever shows up first — but Coover draws her in such an adorable way, it’s all too easy to understand why she gets away with it. Annah is presented as someone who thinks she’s more seductive than she actually is.

The bulk of the story involves Annah’s belief that her father separated her Penfield homunculus from her brain and created a sister, Ginger, from it. Annah’s been on a quest to find this sister, who is, more or less, the keeper of her physiological senses. Annah’s story is not only told by her, but by her more-or-less girlfriend, Chili; Annah’s other date, Jerry; a fake psychic, Alphonse Spectra; a doctor, Greg Curling; and a few others — including a couple of animals and bystanders.

It all sounds pretty metaphorical but that’s part of Tobin’s and Coover’s purpose here. We all divide ourselves into pieces, and it’s ultimately the people who love us despite our fragments that are worth it. Is Annah crazy? Did she really have a mad-scientist father who made a sister out of a part of her brain? Does it matter?

While Coover was clearly the artist here and Tobin the writer, the book feels like a true collaboration. Coover’s art does carry the story — her characters, especially her women, are cute and appealing and the black, white and sepia tones give imbue the book with a mysterious and shadowy quality. Tobin’s dialogue is playful and he doesn’t shy away from the absurd. By putting some of these points in the mouths of pigeons or petty thieves, it keeps the story from feeling overly serious even when it is.

Maybe in the end, people who are who they are. You can put up with the fact your girlfriend is possibly crazy and a tease because you like enough other things about her. You know enough other things about her. Maybe, in the end, we’re all still growing and changing and that’s all that matters. And I like that’s what Colleen Coover and Paul Tobin had to say. I’d love to read more about Annah (she is a tease, after all, so you want to), but I’m happy to know her in whatever way this book allowed me to.

(You can read the whole book here at Top Shelf’s site, but it’s a really lovely book to actually physically hold and read.)

Two notes that are only tangentially related to the book:

• I was planning on making the switch over to Powell’s partner program anyway, but since Annah and Chili both worked at Powell’s Books, this seems like an appropriate time to start.
• And since I did buy this at Big Planet yesterday, I feel completely justified in linking to the “The Alternative Endings to Laika Show” just in case you happened to miss it when I linked to it about 500 times earlier today.

Comic book stores have a wonderful ability to create a sense of community. (I think all comic stores do this — it’s just the bad comic book stores create a community I’m not interested in being a part of.)

At the Nick Bertozzi and Jason Little signing yesterday at Big Planet Comics in Bethesda, that’s what I thought of — that sense of community. The actual purpose of being there — buying Bertozzi’s Lewis & Clark and getting it signed — only took a few minutes. (Due to not having much money, I was only able to buy that. I do want Little’s Motel Art Improvement Service but since my mom expressed interest in reading Lewis & Clark, that one won out. Little and I did exchange buttons, though.)

And while I couldn’t fault the people who got their book signed and left, I thought it was a great excuse to spend a couple of hours in a comic book store. I saw friends, met a few people and finally met Jim Dougan in person. And in the time I wasn’t talking, I enjoyed looking at comics (that I can’t afford right now). I hadn’t been in a comic book store in a while due to the aforementioned “not having much money” bit so I had fun picking up and looking at quite a number of books I had yet to see in person.

To me, that’s what events like this should be about: Giving people a reason to hang out with each other.

Whether someone is reading them or making them, comics can make people feel a little isolated. Reading, drawing and writing usually take place when people are on their own. It’s also not uncommon to feel like you’re the only person you know who likes comics or feel like you can’t discuss them in the way you want with friends or coworkers (I don’t particularly have this problem with my friends, but I know my social circle is probably a bit different from most people’s).

I like comic book stores (the good ones, anyway). I like the feeling of interaction, of feeling like I’m a part of something. Yeah, online shopping is great and social media is a great way for us to keep up with each other, but it’s not the same thing.

Which is a really long way of saying: Yesterday afternoon was the fun of the best kind. And now I have Lewis & Clark to read and enjoy. All in all, that I came away with a comic after having fun feels like a good bonus.

(I forgot I had my camera with me — it’d been a long day — but Mike Rhode of ComicsDC took some photos, one of which I borrowed for this post.)