I Don’t Know Where The Wild Storm is Going

We are eighteen issues out of twenty-four into Warren Ellis and Jon Davis-Hunt’s The Wild Storm, the first of three spin-offs closing out at twelve issues, to be reintegrated into the main title’s narrative. We’re revisiting an old established comics universe, the WildStorm universe, much of the trademarked properties of which have been absorbed into the DC Universe, many of which comics remain in print or cycle in and out often enough. So, there is a lot familiar, and a strict timeline, and it is an extraordinarily controlled comic made up of clear, articulated systems. And, I have no real idea where it is going.

I Don’t Know Where The Wild Storm is Going

Pop Medicine

Travis Hedge Coke

Eighteen issues in, that is, honestly, a glory.

You know that saw from Kurt Vonnegut about the reader should be able to guess that last pages of a book if they happened to be somehow torn out of their copy? Vonnegut wrote audience-congratulatory advertisement fiction. It is good at what it does, for who it intends to do it for, but it is for an audience who would like to not be surprised. By anything.

A lot of commercial fiction follows suit. Some of it is good. This is a decent model.

The current X-Men Black line, every single one of these, you know the end by the first three pages and probably the cover. There are about seven writers, and a small army of visual artists and, even though the Mystique-focused comic is pretty good, in the sense that there’s some wit to her committing mass murder in front of someone and lying to them about it so they won’t worry, it is beyond predictable. God, calling your villains-centric storyline, “X-Men Black.”

Bare plot bones, The Wild Storm concerns the multi-front war between the two true global powers, one handling everything on Earth, the other, everything that happens just off the planet, from their city-sized satellite, and the corporations, pop stars, innovators and aliens who keep that complicated. It’s about innovation and drinks and acceptable casualties and the new wave of a designer phone released in stores tomorrow. The Wild Storm boils the very 1990s skin and fat from a skeleton of perennially cool spy thriller alien invasion secret history rebellion, retaining the ground floor diversity that set WildStorm, the publisher, apart from pretty much all of its big shared universe competition.

I don’t expect The Wild Storm - or its spinoff titles like Michael Cray - to change my life, or blow open my mind. I will be able to read and reread it, and it is likely to show me new things each time, for a long time ahead of us. The character work is subtle, layered, and new information, as we get it, alters how earlier characterization plays. The comic stays in play within itself.

Even the structure of The Wild Storm, deceptively simple, is expanding in ways we could not have tracked from the start. There is a ticker running across the top of each cover, counting us up from 1 to 24, and we know from press releases and could reasonably have assumed regardless, that when it hits 24, that’s all she wrote for the comic. But, the comic’s formulaic grids start to give way as the comic breaks its social, socioeconomic, and cosmogonic forms. The issues contain far more of the old WildStorm universe than anyone was anticipating, to the point that you can go back through the regular reviews or birdwatching posts like the one comparing the two universes, and as soon as someone says, “I doubt we’ll be seeing…” we find out we have been seeing them, or they were hinted at and we missed the cues.

The Wild Storm’s thirteenth issue surprised most of us by “suddenly” becoming about Gen¹³, about “the kids today.” It’s the thirteenth issue. There’s a famous thirteen associated with the universe. Of course they would! But, we did not see it coming and it played completely natural from the start.

Around issue six, we understood that this is a twenty-four issue story framed in four six-part sections, but with six, we also splintered off a divergent track with the Michael Cray solo title. Cray is deceptive, as a character, a riff, and a comic. The character used to be called Deathblow. Jim Lee, his co-creator, did some cool things with him. Azzarello and Bermejo’s After the Fire, is probably one of my favorite pieces from either of them. But, Deathblow is past his sell-by. Michael Cray, which was always his name, is a great name for a hard ass doing his thing. Michael Cray can kick open doors and put two slugs in an asshole any decade, any year you pick.

The comic, Michael Cray, ran parallel, monthly, to the main title, for twelve issues, and the first six were two-issue stories where he took out a variation of a famous DC superhero. Monster-Aquaman. Murdery-Flash. Then, when we are introduced to this world’s riff on Wonder Woman and John Constantine simultaneously, the rhythm shifts to an extended jam and we’re not listening to a standard cover of Little Wing, we’re in Maggot Brain country. The fourth arc runs, not for two, but six issues, folding in and out of rhythms and pitches, growing over itself and getting weird.

We are deep enough in, now, I can tell you that the world we are seeing of The Wild Storm, the one that will soon be expanded by two more branched off titles, is probably artificial. This is Planetary (old WildStorm comic; same writer) from another angle. Planetary was a comic that looked at genre fiction and the interplay between how they’ve shaped a century, how the century shaped stories and story tropes. The universe as a stack of pages, the multiverse as a bunch of books thrown across a coffee table.

This universe, is described by its real-world architect, curator, and head-writer, Ellis, as an “alternate reality story on a parallel Earth.” A number of DC-owned properties of the B and C-level sort, are seen as television programs, pop albums, beers and confections. The “big guns,” like Batman or Wonder Woman are farcical, broke things, letting us see jutting, open angles like a dissected dog. A dissected dog is not a dog the way that George, the lab cuddling by your side at seven pm on Saturday, trying to lick the foam off your beer is a dog. It just lets us see some of the cold structure that, added to other things, could make that dog run.

I don’t think this story is an “alternate reality story on a parallel.” I think this world is an alternate reality story.

There are extradimensional aliens harvesting, correcting, trimming up this universe. Where we start, in issue one, is comparable to a CCTV camera on a street corner, and indeed, some of our first visuals are from just that set up. We move from there to cell videos, cellular calls, and from there to the internet as a global perspective. And, extra-global, as it floats around us and shoots through us simultaneously. Increasingly, when people look in the mirror, in this story, they see something no one can see looking at them. When they talk to themselves it is not always with their own voice. Or, is it, and their own voices only scare them too much?

Perspective is a hard thing to be sure of, even when something is on camera, or on the internet.

I watched footage, the other night, of cops beating the hell out of someone; they’re on the ground, I think handcuffed, and the police are going right for the kidney punches. What I did not immediately suss is that the victim is only fourteen. You go online or bring that up at the grocery store, somebody will tell you in no seconds at all, that she must have done something. “Must have done something” isn’t information we pick up in a moment, in a scene or a photograph or an internet video. That is a perspective we carry with us into a photograph, into a scene or an event. Perspective comes before sight, before interpretation.

I have a perspective on The Wild Storm. I do not, as yet, have a fully-formed or even partly-baked interpretation. I hope my perspective is serving me better than looking at a kid throttled by the cops and seeing “she must have done something” before I see someone beating up a kid. But, I’ve been wrong before, and the beauty of stories is that your perspective can be wrong without injury to anyone, your interpretation can be flawed, wrong, or mixed up without injury to anybody.

Issue twenty may show us the previous has all been a dream. Issue twenty-one could prove that dream had relevance. The world is wide open, because this story is not a scrambled mess, or a free for all, but it is growing in the open. A wild flower is still subject to sky and earth and passing animals. A wild storm, however chaotic or driving it may seem in a moment, as a whole, has structure and evokes interpretation of its dynamics and flow. Hard to know a storm’s path when you’re seeing it coming or up in the eye. Within the eye, you might not even know what the storm is.

And, we have more than half a year to go.

Review: Rainbow Brite #2

So, I’m halfway through this year’s NaNoWriMo and I’m behind a few thousand words. I’m not even sure if I’m attached to the synopsis I wrote up before the month began. But Duy proverbially waved the second issue of Rainbow Brite in my face and I jumped on it like a Black Friday sale at Michael’s. And really, I wasn’t let down.

Review: Rainbow Brite #2

by Samantha Anne

This new run of Rainbow Brite continues to hit me right in the feels when it comes to my love of nostalgia and escapism in general. Jeremy Whitley keeps the charm consistent with this simple and classic story, while Brittney Williams triggers both delight and whimsy with her artwork. I’m giving full props to Team Rainbow Brite here, make no mistake – the comic itself reads smoothly and flows well from page to page. I’m running out to the comic store this weekend though, because this whole digital comic experience is kind of weird for me as a person who will never stop loving the smell of a book.

I don’t like spoilers, so I’m doing my best to avoid that, but we get to see a few new things here as the story progresses forward. Readers are introduced to the Shadow Hound, which I’m sure could be introduced to kids as a scary part of what it means to lose all the color in the world. I, on the other hand, saw a big grey puppy and, aside from wanting to snuggle it back to the good side, am now beyond wildly interested in knowing exactly what a “common canine of Rainbow Land” looks like and when I can get the goddamn stuffie in stores.

Next – Murky and Lurky! I wanted to see these guys, because they were so goofy in their moody dismay when I was a kid that they were never actually a team of Big Bads as much as they were dummies who didn’t like happy things. Brittany’s artistic take on the pair is obviously different, but kind of up the ante in terms of what Rainbow’s nemesis looks like. Lurky’s still a dummy, thankfully, and Murky? I’ve definitely seen this guy in Brooklyn before and Brittney nailed it – the guy’s a jerk and wants to suck the colorful life out of the world to benefit his own jerk agenda. Basically, Murky’s a bad guy you’ll nod your head over; again, no disappointment here.

The last four pages are bright, exciting, and extremely satisfying as kid’s comics go, and I won’t tell you why, because I want you to pick this issue up and lock yourself in a closet with a flashlight to read it and let out a tiny little "yay" when you see it. The wrap up of this issue just confirms for me that this run is shaping up to be a charming and fun ride. I was starting to hope for a new cartoon series on the strength of the storyline unfolding, then I found out that I completely missed a reboot in 2014 that wasn’t exactly well-received. So – okay, then! With any luck, this will revive hope for the cartoon that launched a thousand lunchboxes (and stuffies, and sheet sets, and records).

So, go pick up a copy – support comics and support Rainbow Brite. Because guys, the world is dark as f**k and Stan Lee is no longer on this plane of existence. A rainbow and a smile will do us all good.

In Pace Requiescat: Stan "The Man" Lee

Stan Lee (December 28, 1922–November 12, 2018) has passed away. Known for many things, including being the co-creator of the entire Marvel Universe, Stan needs absolutely no introduction. He's made cameos in almost all of the Marvel movies, and has, since at least 1961, been the face and the voice of Marvel Comics.

In Pace Requiescat: Stan "The Man" Lee

Comics Cube Roundtable

MIGS: Stan Lee taught us that heroes are normal people too. They are flawed. They make mistakes. They have problems. That's what makes them relatable. Stan Lee humanized superheroes. I became a comic book fan because of his creations. Without a doubt, The Face of Marvel.

BRIAN: Comics wouldn't be comics without what Stan brought to 'em.

KATHERINE: I love this quote that’s on Marvel’s homepage right now:

MATTHEW: When I was a kid, I wrote him a letter with a couple drawings inside. He wrote me back. It was one of my prized possessions. I'm going to lose it in the theater when I see the inevitable "In loving memory..."

TRAVIS: My nephew just asked how many days they get off school because Stan Lee died.

BEN: I’ve always found the argument about how much credit Stan should get for his creations to be yet another bit of annoying “see how much I know” fan bullshit. Steve Ditko and Jack Kirby should be lauded and remembered for their enormous contributions to creating Marvel as we know it, but that doesn’t mean we need to tear down Stan Lee to do it. He was the voice of the comics, and the voice of the company loudly proclaiming to the fans and readers, "See how great these comics are!" Not to mention, he edited every single book, which doesn’t mean he just corrected typos. He requested art changes, storytelling changes, reworking entire pages for clarity and impact if needed. Stan Lee, Jack Kirby, and Steve Ditko together revolutionized comics, and changed fictional storytelling as a whole. It’s only unfortunate that he has to die for some of us to appreciate him. I will forever be grateful for his contribution to comics that have impacted my life. Not to mention, he created an all new collaborative style for comics “the Marvel method,” which is still used to this day by superstar writers like Dan Slott and Grant Morrison.

MATTHEW: I honestly think that without his work alongside Kirby and Ditko, ushering in The Marvel Age, comics may very well have become a dead art. At least, comics as we know them.

LIZZY: Absolutely. The world of comics wouldn’t be at all what it is today without Stan Lee. Love him or hate him (and I loved ol’ crusty Uncle Sam, despite his less than savory attributes), he changed the world.

JD: Stan Lee is my personal Walt Disney.

MATTHEW: In the world of comics, there is a Before Stan Lee, and an After Stan Lee... and I don't think anybody else has ever even come close to his impact. Yes, his many wonderfully talented collaborators played heavily into it, and he couldn't have done it without them, but "Stan Lee Presents..." was something that was printed in every book for a reason.

NOAH: Stan going out to speak at college campuses about comic books elevated the art, not just in terms of recognizing comics could be for adults, but by intellectualizing the entire comic book process and making the discussion accessible. We’ll never know what comics would have been without Stan, and I’m glad for that.

MATT: He did make the state motto of New York world famous. The indelible nature and perseverance of “with great power comes great responsibility” will easily stand the test of time. If nothing else, that is the true motto of the Marvel hero.

DUY: There's going to be much debate in the next several days about Stan's merits and flaws, but there are a couple of the latter that I want to address in particular. First, the idea that Stan is "less" for being a hands-off writer, in letting Jack Kirby and Steve Ditko do much of the writing work, like pacing, blocking, and whatnot. As anyone who's ever worked on a group project knows, when you're working with someone who's really good, you stay the hell out of their way. Scottie Pippen's not taking the last shot from Michael Jordan. I will point out that Alan Moore, who writes super-detailed scripts, also leaves leeway for his artists, acknowledging that artists have a better visual sense. And Stan had two of the greatest of all time. And the script, the dialogue, all that stuff's important too. Do I wish he'd been more liberal with the credit? Sure. But let's not take away the credit he does deserve. Without Stan to tie together everything in the Bullpens, in the copies on the covers, in the splash pages; without his distinctive voice; without his narration and dialogue, nothing would have been the same.

MATTHEW: It's impossible to have any type of lengthy discussion about Stan without some of his flaws coming up. That's inevitable. It's important to remember that he never even pretended to be perfect, and he infused a lot of his imperfections and flaws into his characters. Those imperfections and flaws were the foundation for The Marvel Age. He crafted a great big, imperfect world, full of wild, imperfect characters that made mistakes, lost, got knocked down... and the heroes always got back up. He put the flawed hero at the forefront of the genre. Previous to that, a superhero was perfect, always knew what to do, and were the absolute best at what they did.

JEFF:  I enjoyed how he engaged readers, he spoke to us and made us feel like we were part of a special club for reading Marvel.

DUY: That's the best part.

JEFF: No, the enthusiasm he brought was the best. It was such a part of him, no one could fake the excitement he always seemed to have when he talked about what he was doing or promoting. It was like a neverending supply.

LAMAR: In scholarly circles you'll hear the phrase "man created God, so God could create man" thrown around often, and with a bright insistence. When I think about what that means, across ages, Stan Lee is one of the people that comes to mind first.

He didn't just create one God, he gave these Gods all the traits of mankind in a prominent manner not seen often in fiction until he did it.

Comic books are our modern day mythology and folklore, and Stan Lee is undoubtedly the singular scribe responsible for the spreading of these gospels to every corner of Earth. Another caretaker of gods, Julius Schwartz, said that if you take what you love and infuse passion into it, you will have more of what you love for both yourself and everyone else. To do so for 60 years, and never lose an ounce of this passion and fortitude through success as well as failure, is a task us mere mortals were fortunate to have eaten the labor fruits of.

RACHEL: He created things that made me feel. I was afraid of me and it was largely because of the way other people responded to me. I was a mutant and after, after his stories told me my own story, it made sense.

MAX:  I feel like anything I have to say about the man has been said better by others...but what an amazing life and talent.

TRAVIS: Stan Lee is Stan Lee's greatest creation, because no arguing or arbitration will take Stan's Stanness and credit it to anyone else. Stan Lee's hair. You can cartoon Stan Lee just from the hair on his head and face and it's Stan Lee. Did he grow it, did someone else make it? Doesn't matter: It's Stan Lee. And, he did invent this image. Stan Lee played a public role to the hilt for over sixty years of his life, a role so solidly conceived, so individual, that he is imprinted on all our minds.

DUY:  I also want to take this time to talk about Stan's social consciousness, in particular, Joe "Robbie" Robertson, one of the first African-American characters to be treated seriously, and Amazing Spider-Man #96-98, the drug issues that Stan decided to publish even without the Comics Code Authority's seal of approval. But that social consciousness is most evident in the Bullpen Bulletins that he wrote, which were as much a part of the Marvel manifesto as anything else. He wrote three Bullpen Bulletins that are now being reposted today all over social media, about how comics should say something, how they should stand against hatred and bigotry. 

That's as much a part of his legacy as any line of dialogue he's ever written and any character he ever created. And I'd like to close this off with four of the greatest lines in comics, and all of fiction:

"With great power must come great responsibility." -Amazing Fantasy #15 

"Only truth is constant. Only faith endures. And only love can save them. But where shall love be found?" -Silver Surfer, The Ultimate Cosmic Experience

"'Tis not by dropping out -- but by plunging in -- into the maelstrom of life itself -- that thou shall find thy wisdom! There be causes to espouse!! There be battles to be won! There be glory and grandeur all about thee-- if thou wilt but see!" -Thor #154  

"In a sleazy hotel room, in a shabby hotel, some sneaky sinners are startled by the sight of a sparkling spider signal!" -Amazing Spider-Man #22

Q&A With Jeff Smith

I recently reread Jeff Smith's Bone with my girlfriend, and it strikes me that this is a comic that I've used time and again to get non-comics readers to read comics. While reading it, I had a lot of thoughts, namely about the nature  of world-building, the idea that characters need to have story arcs, the  influence of Carl Barks, and a whole host of other stuff. I was gonna write articles about them, but you know what? I decided to go one better. I reached out to Cartoon Books, and with the help of their Production Manager Kathleen Glosan, was able to get some answers straight from the man himself, Jeff Smith.

Spoilers for Bone are up ahead, so if you've never read it, stop reading this now and go buy yourself a copy, and then come back.

Q&A with Jeff Smith

by Duy

DUY TANO: Who do you consider the actual protagonist of Bone? Fone Bone is the ostensible main character, but Thorn is the one who goes through this big heroic arc, while Phoney drives a massive portion of the plot.

JEFF SMITH: Fone Bone and Thorn share the role of protagonist, I think. You are right that Thorn is the one who goes on the classic hero’s journey, but Fone Bone and his cousins are still the stars of the book. It’s like the Marx Brothers in A Night at the Opera. There the “story” is really about two young star-crossed performers in the opera that are thwarted by the powerful elite that run the show, but everybody knows it’s the Marx Brothers who help them succeed that are the real stars!

From the very beginning, the Bone cousins were fully formed.

Bone is notable in 2018 I think because it shows three very strong women: Thorn, Gran'ma Ben, and Briar. It must have been notable in the early 90s as well because these very strong women are presented as full characters and not oversexed secondary characters. This is something I think has led Bone to age very well. May I ask if you have any insight on the readership of Bone, and if perhaps the gender breakdown is more even than with other comic books?



In the early days, my readership was mostly all male because that’s who bought and read comic books. Over the course of the work, the readers changed. First women and then children started showing up at book signings, and to this day I have a pretty even mix of males and females, adults and kids.

I am not aware of the gender breakdown on other books. Certainly, the range of subjects and the influx of female creators and readers has exploded since the days when Bone started, and in general the community of comics is more reflective of real life. That has really upped the quality of our art form and makes me happy.

Does a character really need to have a growth arc? Phoney Bone is the same greedy character he is from beginning to end. There is a bit of a development in him refusing to leave his cousins at the end, but he still tries to steal the Harvestar treasure and is regretful when that doesn't push through.

He’s a stinker, isn’t he? It goes back to my Marx Bros. comparison. Like the Bone cousins, the Marx’s are cartoon characters, but the world doesn’t seem to notice. They exist outside the rules. The rest of the cast and the story advance only with their help. In Bone, Thorn, Gran’ma and even Lucius, along with almost all the rest of the characters had real arcs. Some were life changing. The cousins needed to show a little growth, but only just enough.

The ability to lead the audience into believing that a story is about one thing (humor, slapstick) while then slowly leading them into another genre altogether is something I've seen mostly with the Simpsons and Carl Barks Uncle Scrooge and Donald Duck comics. How did you manage to balance out so many conflicting tones, spiraling from epic fantasy to humorous slapstick? This is a world where some people have read Moby Dick and have copyrights on ice cream and pastries, but where dragons exist in valleys where no one has heard of any of those things. And none of it feels wrong, or out of place. How did you manage that balancing act?

The trick was to keep the story and humor going so fast that folks wouldn’t stop and ask questions. I had rules that I followed but tried to keep them as invisible as possible. I’ll give you one example: whenever Fone Bone and Thorn would talk to animals, like Miz Possum or Ted, it always took place at the farm, far away from the town and humans. That kept the world of Aesop’s fables separate from the more frontier-like setting of the tavern.

If you had to name just three things that you took from Carl Barks (another creator I talk about a lot on the Cube), what would they be? Are there specific Barks stories that have stuck with you?

From a Carl Barks Donald Duck story in the Golden Age. Coincidence?

Three things. Ok. One: The sense of adventure and imagination. The Ducks roamed the earth, visiting distant cultures real and made up. And always on a ridiculous but awesome premise. Two: Pacing. Barks knew how to move a story and make it alive. He knew when to skip around and speed up the pacing or when to slow down and spend time with the characters. Three: The art. I loved the line art! I loved the simple cartoony characters shown against a hyper detailed and realistic background.


There are certain things in Bone that feel to me like Jeff improvised in the middle. I'm thinking mainly of the reveal that Briar was the Hooded One, when prior to it, it seemed that the Hooded One was male, and also that the traitor was originally a nursemaid. But I'm also thinking of Rock Jaw, and how at the very end, he did nothing, despite the build-up going in that direction. How much of Bone was planned out, and how much of it was improvised? How important is flexibility when running a serialized story?


There absolutely was improvisation during the writing of Bone. Things would come up, I’d get new ideas, but I always attempted to steer the story toward the ending that I’d settled on. However, the reveal of Briar as the Hooded One was not one of those things. Ten years earlier, during my first bash at Bone in a college newspaper strip called Thorn, I revealed to a stunned Fone Bone and Thorn that the Hooded One was Gran’ma Ben’s evil twin sister! The fact the rat creatures didn’t know she was a woman and assumed the Hooded One was male (fooled by the whispery word balloons) was an intentional misdirect.

How do you think your background as an animator affect the way Bone reads? Personally, I find that most of your contemporaries had a type of staggered pacing, as if they read a bunch of Peanuts strips and mimicked that type of pacing, but Bone flows completely differently, and more smoothly.

Animation definitely played a role. But even before that, back when I was a teenager looking at comics by Carl Barks and Will Eisner, I thought there was a way to combine those styles and create a more seamless, complete  flow.

Thorn Harvestar, Princess of Atheia

Jeff has said that he didn't create Bone for children; he did it for himself, and that children back then were likely not to be reached by comic shops. Given that he managed to create what I would argue is the go-to all-ages comics recommendation, how would he propose that the comics medium and industry reach a wider audience, and what is the comic shop's place in it?

Well, the thing I latched onto was graphic novels. The format allows for a more durable product and promotes the idea of restocking books for new customers. The relative newness of the form also invites new ideas, new topics and genres, as well as new distribution possibilities, like libraries, bookstores and on-line stores. A wide selection of genres is key. As for comic shops, they started this movement. Most shops have graphic novel and Indy sections, and most are very welcoming to the general public. Women and children have dollars, too!

Milk Morinaga’s Secret of the Princess: Easily Circumventable Trauma

Secret of the Princess, by Milk Morinaga, is an easy fiction. An easy fiction, is an untruth that soothes, that rewards the audience with an inspiring comfort. Secret is the kind of easy fiction that kids, and sometimes adults, need.

Easily Circumventable Trauma

Milk Morinaga’s Secret of the Princess

Pop Medicine

Travis Hedge Coke

Tradition dictates that queer first love stories go dark, go tragic. The world and its microcosms are set against a new couple, definitely the protagonist, whether they come out at thirteen or thirty-nine. This is an anglo tradition, but since this is a Japanese comic (translated into English), let us be clear that it is as well a Japanese tradition. And, in our cynicism and carefulness, we might consider that a most realistic portrayal, a reflection of callous and homophobic society, family expectations, social negotiations. But, Secret is not a reflection of reality. It’s a demonstration of anxiety designed to relieve it.

By and large, the young couple find that their school handles the queer aspect of their relationship without much troubles. The servants in the wealthier student, Fujiwara’s household are enthusiastic, if not entirely cognizant of what their relationship is. Our protagonist, Miu’s mother is ecstatic that she’s dating an awesome girl. The coming out is slow, as the characters, themselves, are not fully aware of their feelings, their sexualities. But, the slowness is not rooted in an uncaring or homophobic world, so much as internalized feelings of worthlessness or flaw. They’re not good enough to date one another, only to pretend to date one another.

The difference, and why it makes a difference, is that self-criticism can be overcome without external changes. If the witch in Snow White just went at Snow with an ax, it would be much harder for a prince’s kiss, or a bear knocking apple from her throat, to bring her back to life. Poison from a witch, is an easily circumventable trauma, because you only have to apply more magic to solve the problem. Fairytales are, by and large, easy fiction.

As adults, reading, these easy fictions can be frustrating or sometimes boring, but I think we can use the reminder that things can be easy, if we need it less often than children and teens. We have life experience to draw on, a cache of days and nights that followed other days and nights to remind us that the world does not completely end even when things go somehow unpleasantly. Young people have less life experience and the world does feel like it might easily end, that humiliation or exhaustion could be the end.

There are students jealous of Miu and Fujiwara's relationship, there are societal barriers, but the societal hardship bars in Secret are set at a level both girls can jump if they want, and they do. The internal struggle is given greater weight, it has the more serious effects, but it, too, can be, and is circumvented. It has to be, for the purposes of the comic. Fujiwara must acknowledge her nerdier hobbies do not need to be kept private. Miu has to acknowledge she is not only valuable for her eventual achievement as someone’s bride.

Even with drama and things to fight past, Secret is here to facilitate some charming date scenes, to let the girls hold hands and admire each other’s clothes, to make zombie-themed lunch boxes and share secrets that to an adult would seem frivolous but to a teen are possibly world-enders. The comic is here as reassurance, and it is a kind of reassuring that even its neighbors on the shelf might not provide.

Review: Rainbow Brite #1

Today we turn the Cube over to Samantha Anne, musician, writer, chef, and comic book reader. I got a review copy of Rainbow Brite #1 and immediately opened it up to the Comics Cube family, and.... here's Samantha!

Review: Rainbow Brite #1

by Samantha Anne

Yeah, so. I’ve never reviewed a comic before. 

I’ve reviewed other things, sure – bands, books, recipes. I’ve even written a couple of novels and recorded an album. But no comics. So, when this landed in my lap, the first hour after involved me questioning whether I was even qualified to review a Rainbow Brite comic. 

“But consider the operative words there, Sam.” I told myself. 

Rainbow Brite. It’s been years, granted, but I’m a pretty big Rainbow Brite fangirl. It was the kind of fangirl love that inevitably led to my Lisa Frank obsession in my teens that, even now, still manages to rear its technicolor head from time to time. I watched the cartoon, I had the dolls, and a vinyl album or two…hell, I’m humming the theme song as I write this. So, feck yeah – I’m qualified. 

Now. After reading Issue #1, I was compelled to track down the variant covers and find out as much about the artists involved as I could. Man, I was not disappointed. I managed to find a total of seven variants, almost all of which I wanted to print and plaster all over a full wall of my apartment. The nostalgia of the Rainbow Brite I remember combined with the fresh imagery presented directly from the minds of Paulina Ganucheau and Tony Fleecs made me smile unabashedly as I Google searched, thirsty for more information and graphics about the new incarnation of Wisp and the Color Kids. The covers are honestly glorious. But that’s just me… I love colors. (Maybe just not on me, I think to myself as I realize that I’m wearing black and white for the millionth day in a row.)

Jeremy Whitley, Princeless creator, handled the writing and I legitimately have no basis for comparison because I admittedly don’t know much of his work. But, as kid-friendly comics go, he worked a great story, nailing it in terms of simplicity while keeping it intriguing enough to be a page turner. And really, if simplicity in storytelling isn’t your thing, bear in mind that this, while it certainly is appropriate for all ages, is a kid-forward comic. This might not be for you, but you’ll be okay! That said, I researched his work for all of two minutes and ended up adding six comics to be TBR list – like *that* needed to get any bigger. Tony Esposito, fearless Letterer, provided a great flow throughout the issue, and I can imagine this series being any kid’s bedtime story and a sweet bonding moment between them and their comic-loving parent. 

The art and color are playful, super complementary of one another, and both really clean and pleasing. Valentine Pinto and Brittney Williams are both delightful artists, and it shows in every panel. The drawing is wonderfully bubbly and easy on the eyes, kind of like a cartoon show that makes you feel like you’re 10 again and faking a sick day. The color is fun, bright, and almost prismatic in places, and it really triggered a feeling of anticipation as the story continued to build (I was all “Oh god, I want to get to Rainbow Land!). Also, you should know every artist involved with this issue got cyber-stalked (including Tony Esposito, who actually followed me back on Twitter. Do I… do I send him stuff now?)

So, I did the thing. And I liked it. Not only did I enjoy the visit with a childhood favorite, but I found a ton of artists to follow which, given that it’s Inktober, is terribly appropriate and amazing. Plus, tonight’s pre-writing procrastination will likely include spiraling down a Rainbow Brite-themed rabbit hole, sponsored by YouTube and Google Images. So, there’s that.