I’m sorry I won’t be able to attend. I’m told there will be “lotsa good minicomics”, including a printed version of the webcomic Girl Ninja.

Blink is a young woman who talks about life with friends in realistic-sounding interludes. The series reminds me of Kris Dresen’s Max & Lily in its interesting conversation. Whether solving crossword puzzles or pondering lost childhood, the linework’s great, capturing the expressions that make the interaction live. True conversation is more than just words, but also the pauses and gestures that go on between the participants.

The second issue, “Experiencing Creative Difficulties”, is a bit too self-referential, in that it turns out Blink’s an artist who can’t think of something to write about, so a friend proposes writing about being blocked. (Multi-level much? But then again, Robinson’s Box Office Poison co-starred a wannabe comic artist.) “Space to Breathe” is quieter, more reflective, with the friends sharing a starry sky and favorite quotations.

But my favorite is the last, “Let It Be As It Is”, a reflection of John Lennon’s demise and what music can mean. I’d advise buying all of them, but none of the store links worked for me. Shame. I’d like to be able to reread them whenever I want.

Amy Unbounded

Spin-off series Return of the Mad Bun is published as a webcomic, although I can’t tell when it was last updated. Author Rachel Hartman is mommy-blogging. From that site, I gather that she’s working on a novel. Collection, published 2002, still available through used book dealers.

Galaxion

Also now a webcomic that actively updates. Author Tara Tallan has a blog. Collection available used as well.

Xeno’s Arrow

Online as a webcomic, only at a different site. There’s also an interview with the creators talking about their plans. If you want to talk to them, they have a forum.

Johnny Public

There was an additional issue, #9, since those I recommended. The publisher’s website was last updated in summer 2005. A tenth issue shows up at a different online shop run by the artist as of last August, and she has a blog. I imagine life got in the way. Shame. It was intriguing, but needs to be read in large lumps.

You know, I follow very few webcomics, and I’m not good at reading page-at-a-time online, so I haven’t been keeping up with the first three, much as I enjoyed them in print. Yet the one that’s still in print, I’m not bothering with either. I’m not a very good customer.

Zero Hour

No, not that one. Patty Leidy did a strip of that name from 1995-1997, collected as minicomics. I enjoyed her humor, but haven’t seen anything from her in a decade, only to find her blog. Yay! Right now she’s having some pain issues that take up her posting, but if you scroll down, there are new comics. What a cool discovery!

Hatton’s usual iconic circles are joined here by an expanded visual vocabulary. Meph has a fedora-like hat perched over his horns, while the femme fatale is the outline of a fox head. (Hatton: not above obvious puns. Still funny.) Her diamond has been stolen, and Meph is going to find out by whom.

That’s when the reader comes in. As Meph tells us, “some choices will solve the case. Others will lead to my horrible and painful demise…. Please pick wisely. Pretty please?” He might wind up in jail, or with broken bones, or there might be a death or a wedding. And the other characters cameo briefly. Silly but amusing, and the different options sum up different kinds of lives.

By the way, the webcomic has a new RSS feed that reliably delivers the comic and James Hatton’s comments as well. Go subscribe!

(Why are all the minicomic-specific awards on the west coast? The same is true of the Isotope Award, which I was a judge for earlier this year.)

The Kukoc Award comes with a cash prize, $350, which is a very nice gesture. (Next year, they hope it will be $400.)

Unfortunately, I’m not familiar with many of this year’s nominees. I’ll have to do some research before voting. (It would have been nice if the award site had included some links.) I’m not sure I should vote, actually, without being able to see the particular issues nominated. Without them, I’m relying on other people’s opinions. One of the nominees, Andy Hartzell, has the advantage of having his book picked up by Top Shelf, which provides him much more name recognition than the others, always a problem with ballots of this sort.

If you read “hand-made, self-published comics” and you’d like to participate, you can find information on requesting your own ballot at that link.

We are an all-female group of comic creators with the common interest of writing character driven stories of drama and romance. We have a growing selection of free online comics as well as print comics on the site.

They’d previously put out an anthology, Fractured Kisses, which ended with issue #4.

That issue contained four short stories. The first, by Robin A. Soblewski (now Edwards), was intended to start a new series, “Cardboard Angel”. It’s since moved to the web, where you can read the first chapter (although the second chapter has apparently been in progress since 2004).

That example demonstrates so many of the decisions facing young comic creators today: it’s easier to publish on the web than in print, and you’ll get a potentially larger audience without nearly as much expense, but without publication deadlines, it’s easy to let a project languish. (Edwards has progressed further on another series, Ganbare! Shimura-san!.)

As for the story, after the demise of her favorite pop star, a girl finds his cardboard cutout talking to her. He wants her help in making things right with those he’s wronged before he can move on to his final reward. It’s all premise setup, which makes it unsatisfying since there’s no continuation. Plus, Edwards is doing some complicated shading effects for black-and-white work, which can lead to murky panels. On the web, of course, it’s in color, which looks much better.

Next is Gina Biggs’ “Never Again”. It’s a stand-alone mood piece in which a boyfriend remembers the history of his current relationship. Unfortunately, given the short space, it winds up being a list of clichés. She’s not good enough for his friends, he works late a lot, she wants a kid, he doesn’t…. I didn’t see anything I hadn’t seen before elsewhere, and the characters never became three-dimensional to me.

The artist’s choice to create pages with large central images and few numbers of panels (many are 3 or under) doesn’t make the most effective use of the short space, and while she’s clearly good at pinups/solo images, she doesn’t have much storytelling flow through the panels and pages. The message is trite, requiring a stronger presentation to overcome its familiarity.

Amy Stoddard’s “Forgiveness” is a six-page debut based on song lyrics. The images were attractive (if sometimes out of proportion) and by letting the reader bring more of themselves to the page, it was slightly more effective for me than the previous story.

The last is “One Sweet Thing” by Ann Fujita, who’s obviously read a LOT of shojo. Her piece is about a girl wanting to get the guy she’s crushing on to notice her by baking him cookies. He’s a jerk, and the boy she should be looking at is her best friend.

The story feels comfortable in the way it evokes other, more polished manga. It’s a kind of fanfiction based on premise and tone instead of characters. Each of the stories has its own splash page/cover-style image and ending author’s note, which makes the anthology resemble several publications in a bargain grouping. I don’t mind — it’s nice seeing how each author would package their work.

Overall, I was more impressed by Gina Biggs’ solo work as seen in the minicomic Love of Sausage. It’s eight pages about adopting a miniature dachshund, and it’s more accomplished than the story mentioned above. It’s denser, for one thing, with more panels per page and the splash-style pages saved for emotional impact.

It also tells more, with each page serving as its own little story of one of the incidents that make up becoming dog owners. The character designs are consistent from page to page (a tricky lesson for many artists), and the dog is cute but still dog-like. I’m a sucker for cute animal stories, but this was a fun read. She hints at more to come; I hope so.

Both of these comics can be bought online.

Illustrated by her husband Steve Lieber (Whiteout), it’s a story about a character from her young adult novel Empress of the World. Katrina wants to be in the school play to avoid friction at home, but she’s instead selected to make costumes. Her resulting studies of famous Hollywood designer Edith Head open up her unexpected talent in the area.

For a 16-page minicomic, it’s surprisingly meaty, with a full character arc and thoughtful details worked in around the edges. The subject, costuming, may sound flighty, but Katrina’s mentor makes some excellent points about the importance of how we choose to present ourselves to others through dress (or how that choice is made for us).

Lieber’s art is very well-suited to it, since his style tends to be down-to-earth with realistic character expressions. His work with detail is needed to support all the different costume looks and background setting. Read it online. The script is included in Panel Two along with comments from both writer and artist.

Ryan and Lieber followed that up with the first issue of a minicomic series called Flytrap. Maddy’s trying to balance work, love, family … thus the subtitle, “Juggling Act”. This issue is about how she starts doing marketing for a small independent circus called Flytrap.

It’s a situation ripe for good lines and great art, and this has both. I love the way the ringmaster talks like one all the time, flowery words and old-fashioned phrasing. Maddy’s also impressive in the way she keeps it together after a really bad day.

The second issue, “Deep, Too”, has a new artist, Ron Chan. Maddie’s trying to get some good publicity photos, but the two clowns she’s shooting are playing “can you top this?” with each other. They combine classic circus feats — wire work, trapeze, stilts — with more out-there stunts, like juggling broken beer bottles. Chan’s style seems to me smoother than Lieber’s, with fewer rough edges. It’s a little prettier, which isn’t bad, just different.

He continues as the illustrator on Flytrap 3, “Over the Wall”, in which a tattooed performer thinks back on the reasons behind his first ink. It’s a classic story — kid doesn’t know what to do with himself, picks up some odd skills, gets in trouble, runs away and joins the circus — told sideways, with allusion and inference. Ryan relies on Chan in several spots to carry the story with silent art, and he comes through.

I suspect I won’t be able to shake it from my head for a while, even though I miss learning more about Maddie. She made such an impression on me in the first issue that I feel the loss of the spotlight on her. More Flytrap is promised for later this year, and I’m eager to see it.

She has also written Click (link to review by Greg McElhatton), with art by Dylan Meconis.

Since then, though, I’d forgotten about it. Thankfully, great conversation with James reminded me how much I’d enjoyed it, and this time I picked up some of his print collections.

First was the simple Primer, which isn’t described on his site, although it serves the same purpose as the cast page. Like the webcomic, it’s mostly text, although color backgrounds dress it up a bit.

That was just an amuse-bouche. The main book is The Centurion, a collection of the first 100 comic strips. At $20, it’s a tad pricey for its slim digest size, but it’s in glossy full color, which the jokes sometimes depend on. (Note: price will soon be reduced to $15.)

It begins with God’s introduction. Now, I could wax symbolic about the genius of representing the supreme being with a black dot — its infinite depth, the universality of the circle — but that would likely drive all the humor out of it. And it’s goofy fun, especially once the Devil (a red circle with horns) shows up for some conflict.

He’s the star of the show, really, and he’s the only one with an entourage. The Devilettes (aka demons) are three little horned dots who run around causing trouble. (They first appear in strip 34.) He’s also the most iconic of all the gang, best recognizable as representative of the concept and Hatton’s treatment of it in most any context.

The strip really gets rolling once Hatton is comfortable with the personalities. They get more individual voices and begin interacting more frequently with each other, resulting in running gags.

A few caveats (aren’t there always when dealing with the supernatural?): The book is digitally printed. The early strips are a little fuzzy and pixellated. (Perhaps he only had low-res originals at that point? It clears up after the first 20 or so.) And someday, Hatton will learn how to properly use “its”.

Don’t think it’s all fun and games, by the way. Like the best humor, there can be significant philosophical observations hidden behind the jokes, as when God answers the question of why there is pain and suffering in the world.

I find this comic inspiring. Not in the usual way (when you’re talking about spiritual beings), but in Hatton’s creation of a technique that’s true to the medium (blending words and images to create something more than mere combination) even though he can’t draw.

There are two additional minicomics that take more of a departure from the classic four-panel comic strip structure.

Meph: The Case of the Big Holes & Our Nature is a 24-hour black-and-white comic in which one of the Devilettes becomes a private eye. His case involves a firegod whose village of worshippers burns up. The solution might seem obvious, but the easy explanation isn’t the right one. The tale incorporates elements of Indiana Jones and Buffy the Vampire Hunter into a single story that makes more sense than most of these kinds of sleep-deprived creations.

Viva Las Vegas is an all-new 32-page color minicomic that works in an extended format based around a 16-panel grid. The whole cast gets bits that are like the strip, only longer.

God and Poseidon are building a giant robot, while the Devil is working on summoning a demon. I’m not sure why the Devil needs to go through a ritual to summon a demon, but it has something to do with the Devilettes not getting along with the Four Horsemen. (Professional jealousy, don’t you know.) It’s wacky fun, like all of Hatton’s work.

When I reviewed it back in the summer of 2004, I said this:

She uses a cute manga-influenced style that is well-suited to her chatty approach to teen life and interests, including Halloween, shopping, goth fashion, and craft tips. Her early work is clearly just that, but her art improves as it goes on. The layouts gain a better sense of flow instead of just putting the elements on the page, and she has a good sense of humor about herself and her cat Tuna (the main characters). The lengthy piece called “Atrophy” tackles the typical topic of depression, but it does so in a fresh, honest way. I also very much liked the last piece, about what went into making 18 Revolutions.

Her next work was a 24-hour comic, A Brief History of Grifonton. This historical fantasy about a town asking a griffin for help can be read online. It’s rough, which is typical of that type of artistic exercise, and the word balloons are sometimes arranged as to make their order of reading confusing, but there’s a surprising message underneath this fable that I found thought-provoking. It’s a tale of everyone using their strengths to build an inter-operative community.

Then came another graphic novel, Crow Princess. It’s her attempt at a modern fairytale. It seems aimed at a goth audience, what with its love of the big black birds and its story about a smart, creative, misunderstood loner picked on at school and by her family.

This book is typical comic size, and Rachel’s spare art style looks somewhat blank on the larger pages. I found it interesting mostly for its aspirations, what it wanted to be instead of what it was. The magical ending doesn’t speak to me, but I don’t have those particular fears and motivations. Others, who dream of finding their true tribe and being discovered to be a princess, may enjoy it more. Greg McElhatton did (although for other reasons).

Rachel has a comic running weekly at gurl.com. Her two most recent publications are collections of those strips under the Subculture of One title. The first collects three stories having to deal with physical image.

I was pleasantly surprised to see the first entry, dealing with attitudes about female body hair. It’s not a subject frequently tackled in comics (unless one goes all the way back to John Byrne reportedly quitting the She-Hulk series when another writer revealed she shaved her legs, if I’ve gotten that legend right), but it’s one every woman has struggled with. The next tackles the question of whether a tall woman should wear boots, given men’s insecurity with height issues while dating, while the last is about the classic problem of finding a guy who shares your interests and is willing to look beyond the surface attraction.

The second issue opens with the lead planning to attend a comic convention. As part of her packing, she decides to be prepared for any eventuality, which means buying condoms. Tuna plays the part of an unusual Jiminy Cricket, questioning how that applies to her belief in chastity. It’s a good question that leads to some important points. There are also stories about bus travel, how Tuna got his name, and two holiday pieces.

I think these semi-autobiographical style monologues in comic form play to Rachel’s strengths in both writing and art — her style keeps the word-driven scenes moving — and I’m glad to see her continuing with them. They’re funny and insightful, and my favorite of her work. She’s grown up doing comics, and it’s refreshing to see how far she’s come and how far she’s still reaching.

Congratulations to Rachel for winning the 2007 Friends of Lulu Kim Yale Award for Best New Female Talent.

This time around, I’m focusing on several works by a particular creator. First up: Brandon Hanvey. I don’t remember how or where we met online, but I liked his clean, simplified character design (makes sense, since he’s a graphic designer in his day job), so he sent me some print books to try. His figures are reduced to the basics but still expressive with personality, even when they’re standing still. (See, for example, the introduction character who titles this strip.)

I first tried his diary strips, The Little Things. I have two print collections, one from 2003 and one from 2004 (half the size and price of the previous, since he did fewer strips that year). This is a popular genre, because it seems so easy to do, but it’s tricky capturing just the right incident in the right amount of space without boring your audience. The reader needs a reason to care.

I like Hanvey’s approach. He’s optimistic and cheerful about things, and we have some of the same likes and interests. Comics, of course — almost half the strips are about attending conventions or meeting famous creators — but also exotic food and Alton Brown and the simple interaction of two people who care for each other. The strips feel like a comfortable conversation catching up with a friend (even though we’ve never met).

I even liked his strip, which everyone does at some point, about why he hasn’t been doing strips, because he looks a little beyond himself to categorize his reactions.

These minicomics are no longer available in print, but they’re online as webcomics, a medium better suited to the ephemeral daily content. Here are the beginnings of the 2003 book and the 2004 book. There’s a bunch from 2002, too, although those are in an earlier, less accomplished style. They’re too short, too reminiscent of Kochalka, and too dependent on color to make up for a lack of confidence in the linework. The strips really come into their own when he moved to black-and-white (starting here). Based on the URL, he also took a six-month break before returning with the new look, which likely helped.

The Little Things stopped when he started working on The Stereos, about high schoolers who put together a band. There were two comics. The first, Battle of the Bands, falls into the gap between a minicomic (black-and-white, self-printed) and a small graphic novel. It’s square, the size of a single, and out of print (although the first six pages are online). You won’t miss it… instead, look for In the Garage, a more professional publication. Although created later, the story starts earlier, with the formation of the band.

This self-published graphic novel has more accomplished art, distinctive linework, and better writing than its predecessor. The four band members are diverse, allowing for natural conflict — a goth, a nerd (a girl nerd!), a slacker, and a punk are going to have different styles, but they all want to work together for the band as a whole.

The opening uses the same approach as the previous book. A row of four panels with a time caption shows how each different character simultaneously starts their day, setting up their personalities wordlessly. As we follow them hour-by-hour, we’re waiting for their threads to cross, which they do in study hall detention. The band is born!

The story isn’t anything new, but its familiarity works in its favor, and it’s executed with good feeling. The parents are suspicious of the kids’ activities, until they’re won over by wanting the best for their children.

The writing can be a little stiff at times; I wonder if Hanvey needs to read the dialogue aloud in order to double-check that it sounds plausible for high school students. He seems to avoid contractions, which doesn’t help. (And he has trouble with homophones: “effect” should be “affect”, “vice principle” should be “vice principal”.) He also needs to work on developing distinct voices for characters with different backgrounds and motivations. These are common areas of improvement for younger creators, so they shouldn’t be held against him.

I haven’t read Hanvey’s followup book, Entanglement, a romance across class boundaries in a longer format, but it looks even better. That’s great to see, an artist continuing to stretch and improve. His latest work is Realms and Reality, about online roleplayers. These books can be purchased online.

The Executioner Is a Lonely Man

Written by Sam Costello, art by Brian A. LaFramboise

This caught my eye not only because of its skill but because of its unusual subject matter: the relationship between two men on death row. It’s horror, but unlike the too commonly seen visceral, blood-soaked zombie comics currently popular, it’s all psychological. The expression-centered, heavy on faces, grey-toned art carries the thoughtful dialogue, creating a moody whole suitable for immediate re-reading. Read it online.

Sequential Life

by Mathew Digges

The small press collection of daily life strips is an overused concept, but Digges makes it work here. Perhaps it’s because his comics started as letters to his girlfriend, giving them more content than some. Perhaps it’s his oddly simplified figures, with their creepy blank eyes. Or maybe it’s just that I related to many of his concerns and fears.

His second strip, dealing with the creative process, hit a particular note, about trying to not think too much, and working out of desperation. I also appreciated his Valentine’s Day strip, where he and his sweetie appreciate each other for the small things. And his “lazy bones” strip wonderfully captures the feeling of a day off. There are cats included, which is a cliché for journal comics, but he captures their fluidity of movement well. Read strips online.

I walk with my wife in the evening

by Christopher Davis

This is the kind of odd way of looking at life that I read comics for, showing me another way of thinking about things, accompanied by lovely thin-line illustrations. Below its surface are meditations on class distinctions, the importance of money, the possibility of disaster, and the fear that permeates today’s daily life. It’s a disturbing indictment of how psychologically tortured we are, that we no longer have mental room for simple pleasures. View Davis’ art or read Shawn Hoke’s review.

Oil Can Drive

by Sean Tiffany

This last one doesn’t belong here, really. It’s a slipcovered full-color comic with CD marked 15 out of 20. Instead of a minicomic, it more resembles a limited-edition special collector’s item.

I remember reading Tiffany’s Exit 6, oh, 10-12 years ago now. I liked it, but as happens to so many small press efforts, it never concluded. The artist has great style and creative ideas, but it’s tough to sign on to the introductory chapter of a large adventure by anyone without knowing there’s major support (read: money) and commitment to conclude behind it.

Ok, enough digression. The story is about a rock band in a post-apocalyptic America. The CD is a natural tie-in, containing their music. It’s a familiar concept, taking the idea of punk rebellion one step further. Oni Press has a similar-sounding book coming out in July, Apocalipstix. With a gorilla and a young boy in the band, it also reminded me of Grease Monkey.

It’s an eye-catching package, but with so much to set up — new world, ongoing premise, set of characters — the comic itself is mostly introduction. The impression I came away with was that of surface flash over substance, which is probably unfair of me. Still, very nice limited edition. Read about it online. Sean also talks about his Isotope experience, which was a fascinating glimpse into the “other side” of the event.

Just look at that art! I love his lines and the way he captures the love of music. It’s a simple story, but a classic: will Lorenzo’s dancing be good enough to defeat his rival and capture the love of Sandra?

I fell in love (as suits the title) with the girl’s expression and the soft colors. There’s just enough pink to be topical and girly, but not so much it overwhelms the piece. (The purple and yellow do a lot to help keep it from being too Easter-eggy.) And I love her quizzical look, as though she’s thinking … well, any number of things. It engages the viewer well.

In addition to this and another illustration, With Love contains a selection of short (two or three page) stories on that universal topic. (Two of them can be read online.)

Her style is manga-influenced and gentle, which I find very appropriate for these poetic meditations on relationships. Her two-page pieces remind me of haiku, in a way. A mood is introduced, developed, and then departed from, leaving the viewer pondering. For such a short length, they aren’t unnecessarily abbreviated or overstuffed, traps many others fall into, yet they still have a point and a purpose.

Her figures are expressive and enigmatic at the same time — like real people, you see them react, but you can’t be sure that they’re being fully honest with you, as though they had complex interior motivations that might not be accurately reflected in their faces and actions.

Touches are subtle. In the first story, “Love Come and Go”, the passage of time is obviously indicated with month labels, but it can also be determined by the indications of mood in the background and the lengths of the characters’ hair. Time passes visually, not just textually.

The second piece, “Disgusted”, is an anti-smoking ad, but the time Lin spends wordlessly showing the couple together makes her rejection of his bad habit all the more powerful and saddening. “Love Is About Time” experiments with panel construction, varying shapes and sizes and including boxes of only words to make a universal point.

The book concludes with the most traditional story, a six-page effort called “Sisters” in which two girls sharing a room cope with the upcoming marriage of the older. Fighting camouflages their uncertainty about the future and unwillingness to admit how much they care for each other. A more experienced artist might have cut back a little on the captions, which often confirm what the reader already knows or can guess from the characters and situation, but that’s a suggestion for improvement, not a flaw.

I was very impressed by this effort, and I’ll definitely be on the lookout for more — Lin is one to watch.

It’s a sensible strategy: they’ve got something relatively inexpensive to sell at their appearances to dedicated fans or those who want a sample, and at the end of day, their next graphic novels are ready. $3 for 32 minicomic pages isn’t exactly cheap compared to the standard color comic package, but toss in a signature, maybe a sketch, and it’s not a bad deal, either, especially as a memento.

Consiglio’s Titanius kicks things off in issue #1. He’s a guy who looks like Juggernaut but is placed in Consiglio’s typical milieu. For much of this story, Titanius and his brother argue over family history while sitting in an apartment at 2:30 in the morning. They’re both goofy- and angry-looking, which suits the casual violence later in the piece.

Titanius previously appeared in a story in Project: Superior, where he stole a suit from a tailor before beating him up. I don’t like him, but I don’t think I’m supposed to. (I hope I’m not supposed to, anyway.) I’m not sure what the point is, but then, I don’t always share Consiglio’s sense of humor.

2 Cool 2 B 4gotten is the first chapter of Robinson’s new graphic novel. It opens with Robert Wicks undergoing hypnotism in order to stop smoking. That allows for an elegant early device to tell us a lot about the character efficiently: we’ve shown his intake paperwork, which describes his family members, background, and self-image. There’s also an impressive word picture, where Wicks’ subconscious monologue is formed into a shaded profile of his face.

The twist in the tale, though, is that after the procedure, Wicks finds himself back in high school. It’s not a new idea, and Robinson’s well aware of that — the back cover to #1 draws his characters placed in the Back to the Future movie poster — but what matters is how well it’s executed. So far, I’m very intrigued. There’s an immediate appeal to the idea of getting the chance to do it again knowing what you know now, and comics is a great medium for it. (Anyone else remember 2002’s Do Over or That Was Then?)

Of the two, this story is much more to my taste because it’s much more ambitious… and successful. These characters I want to know more about (instead of wanting to rush out of the room they’re occupying, as with Titanius).

Issue #2 is even bigger, 40 pages, which means three chapters of 2C2B4G in addition to the Titanius installment. Bonus! Husky can be purchased from Alex Robinson’s website.

Tsunami! True Travel Tales of South East Asia covers Justin’s trip through Myanmar, Thailand, Laos, Cambodia, and Vietnam over the winter of 2004-2005. The opening four-page story isn’t his, though. It happened to someone else, a woman who told him about being caught in the Christmas tsunami. It’s a dramatic beginning illustrating how life-changing travel can be. One person’s experience, what she remembers and chooses to mention, brings the huge event to just this side of comprehendable.

Tsunami!

After that comes prose journal entries that make up half the book. Justin discusses the religious realizations and cultural differences he observes, as well as historical sites he visits. Reading his stories is like listening to a great after-dinner conversation. They’re things I’ll never do, but they sure are interesting to hear about.

The last two stories in the book are short comics. The first is about smuggling drugs through the former Burma in a jar of peanut butter; the second, about the universality of art, when a traveler can swap a sketch for a motorbike ride. Justin’s simple, unembellished style makes him seem more like a reporter. Certainly, he’s interpreting things and deciding what to show us, but the direct art makes us forget that in its straightforward approach.

The newest issue in the series is Swallowing a Cobra’s Heart and Other True Travel Tales. The material in this issue is more adult, and it’s mostly journal entries. This time, the trip was through Singapore, Malaysia, Indonesia, and Australia in early 2006. And yes, the title is true.

The ten-page comic story included here also appears in color in The Book of Boy Trouble. It’s called “Pink Dolphins”, and it’s about a sexual encounter during a boat trip up the Amazon. (It’s got explicit gay content, for those interested in seeking it out or avoiding it on that basis.) What starts as an exotic “things you’d do in another country” kind of story ends up being about more as cultural differences come into play. It almost becomes a twisted after-school special, with a lesson on safe sex.

You can buy his minicomics online.

The next one, I’m just going to quote their website: “Broken Chain is a wordless short story comic about a guy and a girl who live in the same apartment building and the games they play as they court each other.” You can download a 40-page preview at the site as a PDF or CBR or read it online. I find that wordless comics can sometimes be a bit puzzling, as it takes more effort to figure out the artist’s intent at times, but it’s a great way for creators to challenge themselves.

Several webcomic creators were there, passing out postcards and selling compilations of their strips. I find that I’m very adverse to buying something that can be found on the web for free. Perhaps I just haven’t seen a strip I’ve loved enough to want to reread it. Questionable Content comes closest, and artist Jeph Jacques was at the show, but after I said “I like your work”, I didn’t know what else to do, because I didn’t want to buy a t-shirt. Is the nature of fan/creator interaction inherently different with webcomics than with print?

I also picked up an amusing postcard for Wondermark.com, a webcomic that uses old-fashioned (like circa the 1900s) style clip art to make funnies. I liked enough of what I sampled, due to the contrast between the art and the modern tone of the text, that I added it to my RSS feed to keep up with new strips.

You know, it is a heck of a lot easier to recommend something that lives online. I don’t have to worry if I’m describing it fully enough; instead, I just point readers to the site, say what I thought, and they can check it out for themselves. Then again, that might make critics obsolete. Although I think there will always be room for selected lists, because people are too busy to look at everything out there. Someone’s got to provide a filter.

I also was glad to find out about 10,000 Drawings. The name is based on a comment from Donna Barr, and while there are journal-like strips around the site, the main thrust involves Roman history.

SquareCatComics puts a slight twist on the daily journal comic; Jennifer draws herself as a cat (well, mostly a rectangle with ears, thus the name) and her boyfriend as a bird (cylinder with beak). Cute, in small doses, but not very memorable.

While I was doing my final, in-depth pass of the room, I was trying to look at every table. While I was examining yet another minicomic, the artist was apparently checking out my press pass. I look up, and he says “didn’t you used to be in Legion fandom?” I said, yeah, I was. He thought he remembered my name, and we discussed the current series briefly (he hadn’t tried it, I thought it was ok but didn’t have the emotional punch for me anymore). Then he handed me one of his minis, titled “Legion of Super-Heroes Sketchbook”. He explained that he wanted to draw the characters but he didn’t draw in anything like a traditional superhero style, and this was the result.

It was really odd in a neat way. David King’s art reminds me of 50s advertising, especially when it comes to cute mascots. The faces alternately look like Bob Hope (who also appears in one pinup) and Richard Nixon with Orphan Annie’s dot eyes and for the women, the zaftig figures of an old men’s cartoon. Most of the pages are simple character illustrations, but there are two four-page comic sections, with silly gags more suited to Boys’ Life than LSH. His preview page links for this comic are broken, which is a shame, because there’s no substitute for seeing it for yourself.

I’ll close with a wonderfully demented idea. “Willy Wonka Candyman” looks at the Chocolate Factory head through a Scarface filter, inspired by the original drawings of Oompa Loompas as African Pygmies. It’s “what if Wonka was a slave trader”.

The sketchy art bears witness to its origins as a 24-hour-comic attempt, but it hangs together surprisingly well. Everything familiar from the children’s story is cast in new light, even a drug-addled freak-out and child abuse. Silly and mean, but quite amusing to the jaded. You can read it here.

On the bright side, artist Ryan Claytor put it online (a smart thing to do). You’ll miss out on touching the fuzzy cover (made from velvet paper), but it’s free.

This is the first of a series of journal comics. Each page is a short strip capturing a small moment of Ryan’s life. This isn’t an original concept — many people have done similar comics — but he won me over with the second page, where he tries turning off his car stereo for a while. Not everyone is willing to admit to a love for Justin Timberlake and then punctuate it with some advice I needed to hear.

While some of these comics tell incidents that could as easily be a blog entry, the best strips are those that make distinct use of the comic medium. Later on, there’s an homage to Scott McCloud where Ryan’s joy at meeting his idol clearly shines through.

There are more comics to read at Ryan Claytor’s website, including this impressive 24-hour effort featuring a turtle, a bear, and a mean little pig in high school. He’s recently been interviewed by Sequential Tart.

These small minis were inspired by Ouija board sessions. Each page is a panel, with a question at the top and a simple ghost figure answering underneath. Here’s a sample two-page spread to demonstrate:

There’s more to the comic than just the pictures, though. The letter is beautiful, and the heavy cardstock cover in an antique beige complements the old-fashioned feel of the material. Documenting a seance this way reminds me of an old “scientific” journal from a couple of centuries ago. The panel corner decorations contribute to that impression.

The first issue is the story of “Theo Wallis”, murdered when he was 40-something. Issue #2 is “Chip”, a jokester who wants the living to enjoy themselves. “Naomi”, a 10-year-old, is the subject of #3. Issue #4 talks to “Mack, Agatha, & Samantha”.

The conversations are about what you’d expect. Once the interviewer (and reader) find out what happened to create the ghost, we’re out of space. After all, you can’t get a lot of in-depth information from a Ouija board without a lot of patience. The playful nature of some of the ghosts contrasts nicely with the innately bummer concept (we are, after all, talking to dead people), but it also raises the question in my mind of who was involved in these sessions and how much of a jokester they might have been.

Issue #4 is by far the most puzzling and ambitious. Mack and Agatha are brother and sister ghosts looking for their mama. They won’t pass on until they are forced to confront a shocking secret. Judging from this comic, ghosts tend to have the most outrageous backgrounds, full of terrible things. Which makes sense, I guess, since the happy dead people don’t need to hang around talking to us. Still, it all seems a bit convenient, that the answers they need come so quickly. This is definitely a series improved by the right frame of mind, one ready for the possibility of crossing the borders between life and dead. Candlelight would probably help, too.

Find out more at Sarah Becan’s website. She also creates the Shuteye series, where each issue is a thought-provoking short story.