Comicsgirl

Posts Tagged ‘teenagers’

First, we’re going to watch a video:

Like every other former English major in the world, I love that song. I love The Smiths. I love Morrissey’s solo stuff a little less, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have piles of it.

Unlovable Vol. 2 Buy at Amazon.com

So do you remember how awesome you thought you were when you were 15? How you thought you were doing all of these totally awesome things and you were the coolest person alive? And then, as you grew up and go older, you realized what an idiot you were.

That’s exactly what Esther Pearl Watson’s Unlovable is like (you may remember some of her work from the back page of Bust magazine). Purportedly based on a teenager’s diary that Watson found, it’s funny and it’s painful in that “this is too true and it borders on embarrassing” way. It’s hard to know if you’re laughing with or at the characters here. You’re actually probably doing quite a bit of both.

Named after The Smiths song, Unlovable Vol. 2 (Fantagraphics, 2010) follows the latter half of Tammy Pierce’s sophomore year in the late ’80s. She gets in fights with her brother, hangs out with loser guys and her best friend Kim, who is always looking to borrow a dollar and, later, develops a crush on a senior named Ken, who may idolize Morrissey a little bit too much.

Watson’s art is exaggerated and sometimes borders on the grotesque, but it’s funny and ridiculous. I love the close-ups of the faces of the characters, done in hilarious caricature. There are also plenty of fun non-sequitur pages of ’80s motifs, like Cabbage Patch Kids and Max Headroom. This keeps from feeling too mean.

I have no idea how much Watson embellished the details in the diary she found (nor am I completely sure I buy her story — but I mean that with love. It’s great if it’s true but it’s great if it’s not), but so many things are dead-on here — the mixtape of Smith songs Tammy gets from Ken (and that she transcribes the lyrics incorrectly), how much time she spends trying to impress idiot 15-year-old boys through make-up and outfits and the digestion of cliques (including The Smokers, The Rappers, The Thespian New Wave and The Invisibles). Even if this wasn’t specifically Tammy Pierce’s high school experience, I think that doesn’t matter — it’s actually all of ours.

It’s a chunky book with glitter on the cover and inside pages done in black, white and green. The drawing spill off the page. The design of this book is delightful and does feel like something a teenage girl in the late ’80s would love.

If you want to relive part of your teenage years without much sentimentalism, Unlovable Vol. 2 is the way to go.

Now we’re going to watch another video:

Yes, that’s Neil Finn covering “There is a Light That Never Goes Out.” And yes, I’m including it just because I can.

Review copy provided by publisher.

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I reviewed Hope Larson’s Mercury over at Geek Girl on the Street. I did link to it on Twitter, but since I won’t be reviewing it here, I just wanted to make sure I pointed to it in a more permanent manner. (Here’s the short version: It’s awesome and you need to buy it when it’s out.)

If you’ve read my blog or, you know, looked at the title of it, you’ve probably pretty much figured out that a) I’m a girl b) I like comics and c) I like women making comics.

Given all of the above, do I really need to tell you I love this? I swear, it’s like someone went into my brain made a comic just for me.

But let’s get past all the initial giddiness and just get to how awesomely good all of this is.

First of all: Marvel, please please please make a poster of Colleen Coover’s intro piece. It deserves to be hanging in every girl’s bedroom. I will buy five of them if you make it into a poster. And it’s not just me — I have friends who also want it as a poster. I love it.

Starting with a lyrical, nearly wordless tale written by G. Willow Wilson with art by Ming Doyle, Girl Comics #1 definitely starts off right — it’s feminine and mysterious but not stereotypically “girly” at the same time.

The next story by Trina Robbins and Stephanie Buscema is, however, but playfully so. Robbins tells the story of Venus trying to return to her job on earth as a fashion magazine editor, only to find things have changed, and not for the better. Buscema’s retro-inspired art is a delight and all of this is cute and romantic and way too much fun.

Valerie D’Orazio’s Punisher story, with art by Nikki Cook is probably the most straightforward and traditional of all of the stories here, but these four pages do a lot with a little — an entire backstory is told through several, simple images — and the effect is very powerful.

Lucy Kinsley’s Doctor Octopus story is hilarious and adorable, and Robin Furth’s and Agnes Garbowska’s steampunkish retelling of Hansel & Gretel, featuring the Richards kids is inspired and different.

Concluding the issue is a dreamlike take on the Jean Grey/Cyclops/Wolverine love triangle by Devin Grayson and Emma Rios.

I absolutely adored the profiles on Flo Steinberg and Marie Severin (also, Marvel, when you’re making a poster of Colleen Coover’s intro image, will you also manage to collect some of Marie Severin’s work into a book? Please?). These were unexpected and fun bonuses.

This is an awesome showcase of the diverse talent of female creators — and just comic creators, period. I can’t wait for the next one.

It’s a wonderful little anthology, but it’s more than that.

I started Comicsgirl way back when as a teenager because I knew there was more to comics than what most people saw. I knew that comics had some great things to offer women. But even now, especially in mainstream comics, I often don’t feel like I’m recognized. Sometimes, I have to struggle to see myself in the comics I read. But Girl Comics makes me feel like I’m being acknowledged. No, maybe it’s not going to be everyone’s thing, but I wish I could go back in time and give this to my 17-year-old self. I wish I knew a bunch of 15-year-old girls I could buy copies of this for. And for me, that makes this is a beautiful thing.

Smile Buy at Amazon.com

I hated every minute of having braces.

Yes, that’s a dramatic statement since I’m sure there were times I didn’t think about my braces too much (plus I did also sleep, so I doubt I was doing too much hating in my sleep). But ultimately, I remember nearly two years of aching teeth and discomfort.

I don’t regret having braces but I adored the day I got them removed. Of course, then there was the retainer.

In the autobiographical Smile (Scholastic, 2010), sixth-grader Raina Telgemeier trips and knocks out one of her front teeth (and pushed the other up inside her gums — cue the cringing now). This began four long years of trips to the dentist and orthodontist and other -ists as they try to repair her mouth.

Along the way, she grow into herself. She deals with leaving her childhood behind as she experiences first crushes and fights with friends. There’s even an earthquake. Telgemeier’s art is animated and cute. It’s curvy and dynamic and filled with exaggerated facial expressions. It moves the story along and I love the subtle changes Raina goes through as she moves from girl to young teenager.

Telgemeier is only a few years older than I am so I could relate to the time period in which she came of age. I was delighted at how she wasn’t in a particular rush to grow up (she was a girl who loved video games and The Little Mermaid) and her family is loving and supportive. This was a refreshing portrayal of being a young teenager to me, and very easy to relate to.

(The scene where Sammy gives Raina a Valentine’s Day present and it’s painful and awkward for both of them? Yes, that happened to me, too.)

The dental aspect is handled in a playful way. Something that should be horrifying is rendered as fun. Onomatopoetic words such as “snap” “poke” and “twist” accompany scenes of the tightening of braces and Telgemeier’s art is always so lovely that nothing is ever too gross. The only scene that made me squirm was when Raina had her gums cleaned. Still, I did have my teeth ache in sympathy throughout the book.

While I didn’t (thankfully!) experience the kind of dental trauma that Telgemeier did, I still saw a lot of myself in her story. Smile is a quick and fun read. It’s a lovely book for any older child worried about middle school (or braces!) and for those of us who have been there. And that just about covers everyone.

With all the talk of women in comics and comics for women that has gone on over the past few years, I’m always surprised that very few people brings up BoHoS. Unlike most comics aimed at teenage girls, this was actually written by one.

Published in 1998 by Flypaper Press/Image, writer Maggie Whorf tells the story of four friends — the contemplative Catherine, the sarcastic Amy, hippie Vicki and rock-star wannabe Stew — as they navigate late ’90s pop culture. References to Hanson, Kevin Smith movies and Dawson’s Creek do feel a little dated now, but the emotions and interactions between these friends still remains genuine. Byron Penaranda’s quirky angular style and the candy colors give the comic a bright and distinctive look. The issues also featured essays and commentaries by teenagers and women about topics ranging from dating to pop culture.

Inspired by the latest round of “women making comics for women,” I decided to track down Maggie Whorf to get her thoughts on her experiences with BoHoS via e-mail.

The comic had its origins after Whorf and two friends created a zine called “Whore-Hey,” which was “filled with the teen angst of three over-taught and highly privileged private school girls,” Whorf wrote, adding “We also said fuck. A lot.”

This, along with the fact that they were selling their zine on school grounds, led to some trouble for the three — they were suspended for three days. (The punishment “wasn’t very effective,” Whorf wrote and that the girls’ parents were proud.)

After attracting some media attention, Flypaper Press came calling and Whorf was the one to respond.

Whorf says she had creative control over the comic: “There was an amazing sense of freedom and my opinions were always respected. I was set up with a great editor and she taught me how to break down a scene and write with the panel in mind.” and that she “created the characters, the storylines and supervised the design.” She does admit “There were times I was treated like a commodity” but also understood “The story of a 16-year-old girl writing a comic book was the thing they could sell.” She wrote that she “loved it” and “felt very grown up” during the whole process.

After some movement on pitching it to production companies, Whorf headed off to college, thus ending her comic book career (for now, anyway).

I asked Whorf if she had been comic book fan previous to BoHoS and she wrote that she used to draw pictures of X-Men to sell to friends in elementary school and came back to comics through Tank Girl. She wrote that she’ll “always love Batman” and loved the Civil War run. Other than that, she hasn’t kept up with any of the other attempts to entice teenage girls to read comics, like DC’s Minx line. “That’s kind of shameful, isn’t it?” she wrote.

Whorf is currently working for “a large internet company” and writes a fashion blog call The Pudge.

I was delighted to be in touch with her and even more delighted to hear her experiences with BoHoS were good ones. As for the comic itself, it’s never been collected, but issues are pretty easy (and cheap!) to come by on eBay.

(Hi to everyone who is getting here via Neil Gaiman’s journal. I am happy to have you here.)

In 1994, growing up in the suburbs, if you were a girl who liked comics, there weren’t too many options. I was quickly outgrowing Elfquest and I was no where near cool enough for Love and Rockets. I still liked the superhero stuff, but I was getting bored. Strangers in Paradise was just getting started and anyway, I had no way of knowing about it (this was pre-Internet). There was no Y: The Last Man, the was no Persepolis.

Basically, being a teenage girl (not to mention one of a certain sensibility) in the ’90s who liked comics, it was pretty much inevitable I was going to read The Sandman.

Nearly 20 years after it first began (and more than 10 after it was completed), the reputation of The Sandman as being a comic girls like continues to be pervasive, to the point there’s a growing chorus of women who are saying “I don’t actually like The Sandman.” And I can understand that: After all, in the decade and a half since I first started reading it, there are many more comics out there that easily appeal to women. It’s no longer quite the go-to “my girlfriend will like this” series it once was.

It’s been years since I’ve read the whole thing (at least five for most of it, possibly 10 for some of it). So, is The Sandman still good? Does it hold up? Do I still like it?

I’m pretty sure I know the answers to all of these questions. Mostly, I just want an excuse to read the whole thing again.

So: One of the 10 collections a week until I’m done, starting tomorrow, to see if The Sandman is what I remember it to be.

Update: Here’s all of them, conveniently linked below. The cover images are from the editions I have and are obviously not current.

Preludes and Nocturnes
The Doll’s House
Dream Country
The Season of Mists
A Game of You
Fables and Reflections
Brief Lives
World’s End
The Kindly Ones
The Wake
In conclusion