99.11: Dead Man's Knock, The Unwritten Volume 3, by Mike Carey & Peter Gross (script, story, art), Ryan Kelly (finishes) (2011 trade paperback, issues 13-18)

This is the first blog entry I'm writing on my iPad, using an app called Blogger+. My new plan is to write and upload text whenever/wherever I finish a book (hotel, bed, a coffee shop) and then add the finishing touches (pictures, links, and proofreading) when I am at a desktop computer. Hopefully this will eliminate my habit of allowing finished books to pile up in a to-be-blogged pile, which results in multiple entries posted all at once with long periods between them. And now, on to the real business of this entry:

Like many of the comics I follow, The Unwritten was recommended by my sister Sarah. Since Sarah is a librarian and knows me better than anyone else, her recommendations are a custom fit, so it's no surprise that I enjoy this comic. All comics take some time to develop, though, and it's in this third story arc that I am beginning to feel a real appreciation for The Unwritten. 

The authors of this series are committed to the idea that stories have power--quite literally and magically. The comic's unwilling hero Tommy/Tom Taylor struggles with the legacy his author father left him--first as model for his father's popular boy-wizard book character and now, as an adult, as role model to people around the world (imagine Harry Potter on an even bigger scale), who have a hard time separating real-world Tom from fictional Tommy. Even more importantly, though, Tom faces a struggle against a mysterious Cabal that seeks to undo or influence stories in order to control events in the world. While the premise of words having power is interesting in itself, it's the weaving of literature--classic and popular--throughout that make this series particularly compelling. In a single issue within this trade, there are references to Dickens, The Lord of the Rings, Shakespeare's Henry the Fourth, Fielding, Malory, and the tale of Merlin--heavily dosed with J.K. Rowling, with a mention of the Big Brother and Britain's got talent reality shows thrown in for good measure. In a further creative twist, one issue is printed as a pick-a-story book, in which the reader chooses between options at regular intervals to move between 60 half-page story fragments. Overall, this comic is a true reading pleasure for book and word enthusiasts.

98.11: American Vampire, Volume 2, by Scott Snyder (writer), Rafael Albuquerque and Mateus Santolouco (artists) (trade hardcover, issues 6-11, 2010-11)

When reviewing Volume 1 of American Vampire (link to full entry 46 here), I commented on Stephen King's contribution to the series: "Snyder's chapters are better written. . . . King is a gifted storyteller, and I'm sure that more practice will lead him to excellence in the comic format as well. In fact, the second trade was just released, so I'll soon be able to report on his progress." I'm sorry to tell you this, but you won't be getting that report. Having given his name and clout to the series, it appears King dropped out of the project after concluding the first story arc.  While it's disappointing not to have the opportunity to see King develop as a comic writer, in reality it's not a loss to the series. If anything, the narrative consistency provided by Snyder as sole storyteller--and the high-quality illustration provided by Albuquerque--make volume two of the series that much better than its debut collection.

Having established the premise for a new breed of daytime vampire in volume one, volume two moves forward a bit in time. Still in the American west, the main storyline it set in Las Vegas in the mid 1930s, when the town is beginning its boom in gambling and prostitution in order to meet the interests of the 3,000+ workers involved in the construction of the Hoover Dam. Skinner Sweet is still evil vampire number one, but his progeny, Pearl, lets her claws out after years of domestic bliss, and Pearl's own offspring, Hattie Hargrove, is released from the prison she's been held in for years. With three American vampires on the loose, volume three promises to be killer.

97.11: Safe as Houses, House of Mystery 6, by Matthew Sturges, Luca Rossi, Werther Dell-Edera, and Jose Marzan, Jr. (tade paperback, issues 26-30, 2010)

I almost gave up on HoM after trade five, I must admit. It just got a bit too crazy for me, and that's saying a lot for a series that requires you to accept a LOT of craziness. It wasn't the appearance of sort-of-dead relatives, suicidal (or killed) poets, the fictional becoming real, or a house that is no longer a house that got to me, however: it was the chaos. I felt that I was losing my grip on the story line in the last arc; too many things were happening too quickly for me to follow. I just looked back at my review of trade five (Here's the link if your interested.) and am amused to note that I didn't comment on my befuddlement. Instead, I essentially summarized the basic premise of the series and left it at that. In retrospect, I recognize this as a classic strategy my students used when faced with a challenging task: deflect or backtrack to discuss something with which you are comfortable.

Fortunately, trade six slows down a bit and mainly follows a single story arc, with only a couple of tangents. Sure, that single plot might involve Fig (the main character, whose vivid imagination is responsible for the existence of the mystery house and multiple worlds) and the goblins being called upon by witches in order to defeat the Thinking Man, flying robots, huge carnivorous earthworms (think Dune), and an immense monster dampening the torch needed to keep the Summerlands alive.  And, yes, the victory comes when Turgis, a gay goblin, takes over leadership to lead the goblin army (explaining to the former leader as he kills him, "It takes great strength to be gay in this world.") and Fig invents a "big, swirly, cutty thing" (looking like an immense length of toilet paper with a smiley face on it, no less) to kill the monster. Still, this is imagination and mystery I can wrap my head around and follow, and even the few tangents clarified some loose strands from trade five. I'm glad to have things sorted out now, as the concepts of imagination, creation, and reality that originally attracted me to the series are so compelling.

One thing this experience underscores for me is a major difference between classic and modern comics. While characters in early comics did evolve and plots built, you could pretty much pick up any single issue and have a coherent story to read. This is not the case of most current adult series, which depend on readers having enough back story to muddle through some fuzzy parts, often reaching very-limited conclusions within story arcs. If I had picked up trade five without having read the earlier HoM issues, I would have put it aside within a few pages--convinced it was complete rubbish. And, I would have missed out on some thought-provoking ideas as a result. The bottom line: if a comic series appeals to you for some reason, start from issue one.   

96.11: No Way Out, The Walking Dead Volume 14, by Robert Kirkman (writer), Charlie Adlard (inker), and Cliff Rathburn (gray tones), (trade paperback, issues 79-84, 2011)

It recently become popular as a television show, but The Walking Dead began as a comic series in 2006. (Since I started this blog in 2011, only one other review can be found here, for trade 14.) I started following it shortly after encountering the authors at an Image signing table at Comic Con 2006. What started out from circumstance and curiosity--I was relatively new to comics and testing the waters as to what was out there--has grown into a full appreciation for a well-written and illustrated series.

In this story arc, the uneasy comfort and quiet the original cast of survivors have enjoyed in a walled city is shattered when gunshots draw an entire herd (hundreds) of the dead to their walls. The ensuing gore-fest is action packed. As human and zombie bodies pile up around them, the characters further their lessons of loyalty, risk, survival, and zombie ass-kicking (or skull smashing, as is actually the case). More importantly, despite the carnage and stress, the book ends with a feeling not evident in recent volumes: hope. Ultimately, I think it's that element that keeps readers reading.  And the zombies, of course.

95.11: Losers in Space, buy John Barnes (advance uncorrected proof, publication April 2012)

Part of the fun at the NCTE Annual Convention is trolling the exhibit area for freebies. I'm pretty cautious about what I pick up, since I have to haul it across country, and I try to stick to carry-on luggage in my travels. However, the promising sales pitch for this book--teens seeking fame by stowing away on a spaceship with a sociopath loose among them--was strong enough for the novel to make it into my bag. And, pretty much, the sales pitch tells you what you need to know about the book; I'd likely add "futuristic Breakfast Club" to the description to complete the plot. (Of course, today's teen may not find this addition illuminating, but GenXers will get it.) One thing that makes this novel stand out a bit are the 16 regular excerpts--entitled "Notes for the Interested"--that provide explanations of culture, science, and math concepts relevant to the plot. As the book itself points out, these tangents aren't essential to the storyline and an uninterested reader could skip them. Hopefully, though, while considering the effects of celebrity, social media, and romance, a few teen readers may also pick up a few educational tidbits.

94.11: Finger Lickin' Fifteen, by Janet Evanovich (iBook, original publication date 2009)

I've posted entries about a number of books from Evanovich's Stephanie Plum series, so if you are in need of the back story, take a few minutes to visit these earlier entries: Troublemaker (entry 25) and Eleven on Top, Twelve Sharp, Lean Mean Thirteen, and Fearless Fourteen (entries 38-41). As I do when reading every book about the hapless Jersey bail bonds agent, while reading Fifteen I alternately found myself wondering why I was reading such silly stuff and laughing hysterically. I've said it before: for simple fun reading, you can't beat this series. 

In Fifteen the caper includes a barbecue contest, a maniac with a cleaver, and a serial arsonist. But really, who cares? The pleasure here is in the regular cast of characters, silly incidents, and zingy one-liners. I smile just thinking about it and plan to upload Sizzling Sixteen soon.

93.11: The Mystery of Grace, by Charles de Lint (2009 Hardcover)

De Lint is a "master of contemporary magical fiction," claims his book-cover biography, and the evidence firmly supports this. I discovered and quickly devoured the master's Newford series approximately five years ago and have kept up on new releases since then (visit this link to see the 24 titles, the most recent of which was released in 2009). The use of "series" is a bit misleading here, as the books don't  come out as volumes of an ongoing saga. Instead, it's the setting--the fictional North American city of Newford (a hodgepodge of many large cities)--and semi-regular cast of characters--both real and supernatural--that unite the books. There may be several books in which a previously primary character does not appear at all, followed by one in which he/she/it appears tangentially, and and then four or five books down the line finally ends up a focus again. Likewise, events and areas in Newford occasionally overlap, but just as often whole new areas of the city are explored.  The final result is a richly imagined realistic world in which the improbable often occurs.

In The Mystery of Grace, the improbable is still central to the story, but the setting and characters are new. It's essentially a love story set in the American Southwest, but otherworldly elements--such as death--complicate the tale. Like all of de Lint's novels, there are many meaning-of-life questions considered without any answers reached. And, while I enjoyed the book for its non-conclusive exploration, it left me a bit dissatisfied. Partly I missed the richness of the Newford world, but I was also a bit annoyed by the overt "spirituality" of the book. I'm not sure if it's de Lint or me who has changed, but the religious connotations struck me as more dominant in this book than his earlier works. While I would highly recommend it to the increasing number of people who consider themselves "spiritual, non-religious," those with more traditional religious beliefs or those without religious belief may be less enthralled. Instead, I'd recommend checking out the Newford series.