Book-A-Day 2018 #381: Exit Strategy by Martha Wells

Yes, I did maneuver so that this would be the very last book of Book-A-Day -- what better than something called Exit Strategy?

This is the fourth and last book of Martha Wells's "The Murderbot Diaries," a series of excellent novellas in book form that have already won her one Hugo. All Systems Red, Artificial Condition, and Rogue Protocol were the previous books. A follow-up novel is promised, and I expect there will be a one-volume edition of The Murderbot Diaries in late 2019 or 2020 as well. But don't wait for either of those things: this is a great series of compelling page-turners narrated by a uniquely enticing voice.

That's Murderbot itself: a rogue SecUnit in a vaguely cyberpunky medium-future FTL-equipped setting. The larger human-inhabited universe seems to include areas with functional governments, but out on the Corporate Rim, where Murderbot has spent its career, everything is run by competing companies -- sometimes more-or-less decently, often very badly. What oversight there seems to be is provided by insurance companies and security outfits, and is entirely based on payments today and the prospect of being around to collect further payments later.

Which brings us to GrayCris, which has been doing some very nefarious deeds that Murderbot has been uncovering -- partially without wanting to -- for three books now. Murderbot was under contract to GrayCris and at the scene of a massacre: it went back there in Artificial Condition to find out why, and whether it hacked its governor module before or after that massacre. Along the way, it's accumulated a lot of data on GrayCris activities, mostly involving secretly collecting interdicted alien artifacts, the release of which would trash GrayCris's relationships with all of its counterparties and possibly even bring the company down. (Remember: this is an all-corporate environment: there are no "laws" as such to violate, only negotiated agreements among large profit-seeking entities.)

GrayCris, though, won't go quietly. Murderbot realizes that they have kidnapped Dr. Mensah -- head of the survey team it saved back in All Systems Red to start the whole thing -- and that they're trying to find Murderbot, too. Murderbot, through some combination of growing emotional attachment to specific humans, a sense of righteousness, and a faulty risk assessment module, decides to go to the station where Mensah is being held. And, of course, it gets caught up in an attempt to break her out.

As I said, a further Murderbot novel is promised, but that's as far as I'll go with spoilers.

Murderbot is a wonderful, deep character, and its voice is true and conflicted and immediately gripping. The Murderbot Diaries aren't about what it is to be human -- Wells is telling stories here, not making a sermon -- but Murderbot is a fascinating person, unique in its universe, trying to figure out where it fits in and what it can do with its life. (Besides watching The Rise and Fall of Sanctuary Moon over and over again.) These are great books from one of our best SFF writers, and it's great to see not just how strong they are, but how much the SFF readership has grabbed onto them and celebrated them.

Book-A-Day 2018 #380: Royalboiler by Brandon Graham

This is not a comic. It's an art book by a cartoonist, featuring covers (from his own books and guest covers for others' comics), sketchbook pages, odd single-page comics from in-house Image newsletters, convention posters, a T-shirt design or two, some logos for porn companies and stars, a little bit of movie concept art, and other assorted stuff that Brandon Graham has created in the twentyish years of his comics career.

Royalboiler is an oversized paperback with full-bleed art most of the time -- it's a great size and format for an art book, and really makes the covers (here presented without logos) show up well. That does mean, though, that text is minimal and mostly restricted to some captions on pages where they can be accommodated. The captions are also all in Graham's lettering font -- I can't say if they're all hand-lettered or not; does anyone actually still do that? -- so they look like they're part of the underlying art if you don't slow down and pay attention.

But the point of an art book is to slow down and pay attention, so I don't consider that a problem.

There is minimal text here, again: just enough to say what this piece of art is, maybe who worked on it with Graham or what year it was done. But there is enough, from those captions and a few semi-autobiographical strips and some collages of photos and artwork from conventions, to piece together a bit of Graham's life, or at least the parts of his life that he wants to present in his art in public.

So it starts out with covers from King City and Multiple Warheads and then goes into some of his odder, earlier, obscurer, or more collaborative projects -- Prophet and Perverts of the Unknown and October Yen and so on, and then into lots of art for conventions and covers for other comics. After that comes the Comic Lovers strip for Image Plus, other odd pieces about comics, and so on.

There's a lot in here -- the book has no page numbers, but informed sources claim it's 248 pages, and that seems about right. That's almost 250 big pages full of interesting art by a quirky creator -- the one thing I would note is that his cover/sketch work is often less dense than his story pages, so there aren't as many buried jokes or puns in Royalboiler as there are in his narrative comics. Or, maybe, they're buried even more deeply, so I missed them....

Book-A-Day 2018 #379: Emma by Kaoru Mori (5 hardcover 2-in-1 volumes)

Is it damning with faint praise to say of a painter that you love her brushstrokes but aren't crazy about her paintings? I hope not, because I'm about to say that about Kaoru Mori's first major manga series Emma.

Emma originally ran for 72 chapters -- 52 of the main story, and a follow-up 20 side-story chapters -- in Japan's Beam magazine from 2002 through 2008. It was collected into ten volumes, with the side-stories taking up the last three, then the volumes were translated into English. At some point, there were hardcovers, each collecting two of the smaller paperback tankobon volumes. And that's what I just read: 72 serial chapters, 10 paperbacks, or five hardcovers. (Links to Volumes One, Two, Three, Four and Five)

It's set in the transition from the Victorian to the Edwardian era in England, starting in what seems to be the late 1890s and continuing for a few years past Victoria's death in 1901. (There are no actual dates in the series, but Mori does contrast Victorian and Edwardian clothing styles in her afterwords without a whole lot of explanation...I don't think she believes that everything changed poof! all at once. It is also difficult to judge how much time is passing, since even the old characters are mostly drawn with young faces.) The central character is Emma, a young woman of uncertain parentage and no actual last name, initially working as the maid-of-all-work in the London home of retired governess Kelly Stowner.

Emma meets and falls in love with William Jones, scion of a rich and rising merchant family, who also loves her. But there are the usual impediments: their respective positions in life, William's engagement to the daughter of a Viscount, his stern father, blah blah blah and so on.

Reader, of course they get married in the end. We all know that. So I won't pretend otherwise.

My problem is that the problems in their way are neither fish nor fowl. I'd be happy with a Dickensian drama with melodramatic problems solved in melodramatic ways -- if one party were kidnapped to America by characters who look a lot like 19th century Jewish stereotypes, for example, and the other party had to chase her there and save her from durance vile -- and I'd also be happy with a more serious, sedate story of manners and closely examined social mores of the time. Emma is neither of those. This story instead throws in a couple of melodramatic moments for no clear reason (like that abduction by racist stereotypes), but generally steers a sedate course without actually closely examining the actual standards of the society it concerns.

Emma, frankly, is a caricature of circa-1900 English society as seen through the lens of circa-2002 Japanese society: the aspects that resonate with Mori and her audience are emphasized, and the ones that would be inconvenient to this story are ignored or changed or misunderstood.

Some of my major issues with Emma:

• the narrative seems to have never even heard of a "breach of promise" suit
• a "former governess" lives in what would be an expensive London townhouse, perhaps because she became a governess as something to do after her husband died
• in general, money may exist, but the lack of it does not seem to harm or motivate a single person in the world
• an honest-to-God kidnapping happens and is never mentioned afterward
• the entire race of the "the Irish" seem not to exist in this world, or at least to have no connection to domestic service
• it's yet another comic series whose narrative is apparently driven primarily by what the artist wanted to draw, and not any actual story purpose
• fans of the series, and possibly even its creator, seem to be mostly interested in "stories about maids" and details of their clothing, rather than any actual story points

This is not an exhaustive list.

On the other hand, Emma looks gorgeous, and the character interaction on a scene-by-scene level is true and engaging. I might not always believe that all of Mori's characters actually are British people born in the 19th century, but they're interesting, distinct people no matter how ahistorical they may be. Their interactions are realistic, and if Emma had not insisted on its historicity, it could all be taken as the ways these people in this society interact.

I expect most readers won't care about any of that. It's a nice love story, sweet and totally innocent, as befitting the time-period. (Though there is quite a bit of female nudity in Emma, both of an older married woman and of a high-class prostitute, so it's not appropriate for anyone looking for absolute purity of the Christian Dominionist strain.) And, again, I'm quite happy with ahistorical melodramatic stories -- or solidly historical melodramatic stories, for that matter -- but if something pretends to be serious and grounded, it should actually be so, and not just pretend to it.

Book-A-Day 2018 #378: Bacchus by Eddie Campbell (2 Vols.)

Bacchus was Eddie Campbell's first taste of comics success, his "American-style comic book" about idiosyncratic versions of the Greek gods, in an idiom occasionally congruent with crime and/or superhero stories but often just focused on the joys of storytelling, camaraderie, and the pleasures of the vine (and, somewhat more darkly, the things one might do while under the influence of that vine).

He made stories about the aged god Bacchus and the rest of his milieu for more than a decade, starting in the spring of 1987 as a regular comic from the British publisher Harrier and eventually built his own minor self-publishing empire (out of the front room of his house in Australia, as he put it), with a Bacchus comic mixing reprints of the early stories with the new end of the saga, ending in 2001 after sixty issues.

And then, a decade and a half later, Top Shelf collected all of those stories -- which had previously been collected into ten storyline-focused books from Campbell's own Eddie Campbell Comics -- into two big fat books to match the design of their earlier Alec: "The Years Have Pants". Each volume collects five of those earlier volumes, and the two books end up almost exactly the same length, as if it were all planned that way from the beginning. (As far as I can tell, Campbell hasn't done any recent tinkering: these stories were finalized for the Eddie Campbell Comics volumes, and they're going to stay in that final form from now on.)

This is one of the great quirky comics of its era, maybe of any era. The way it swings back and forth from nearly-farcical action to languid retold mythology to occasional moments of stark drama to actually farcical action is distinct and wonderful: whatever kind of comics you like, Bacchus has a moment that will delight you. And if you like comics in general, Bacchus has hundreds of those moments.

Bacchus, Volume One has most of the more overtly "American-style" stories, starting with Immortality Isn't Forever, a crime-drama set in the nonspecific American city preferred by Scotsmen who haven't made it across the pond yet and with a plot set in motion explicitly by the mythological underpinnings. (Bacchus is still pissed at "Joe Theseus" for abandoning Ariadne all those years ago, even though he never would have met her if Joe didn't abandon her.) Immortality starts the standard whipsaw plotting, jumping back and forth from all-out action, mostly with Joe and the Eyeball Kid (more on him later), to quieter moments of Bacchus, and occasionally others, retelling myths with his own spin on them. As the series went on, those two modes got more separated, landing in different storylines, but they were both there from the beginning.

The rest of Volume One mostly bounces between those modes -- The Gods of Business is more all-out action, bringing Hermes into the mix, Doing the Islands With Bacchus is a long series of retold myths with a light frame story of Bacchus and companions wandering the Greek isles and causing trouble with those they meet, and Eyeball Kid: One Man Show is an even bigger-scale action series with the Eyeball Kid and Hermes fighting again for other characters' amusement.

(The Eyeball Kid, by the way, is a twenty-eyed grandchild of Argus -- he of the hundred eyes -- who was Hera's lover and revenged her death at the hands of her husband Zeus by killing the old man and stealing his power. He's also the only straightforward, non-conflicted, centered main character, undercut by also being wackily random and prone to malapropisms.)

Volume One ends with the epic Earth, Water, Air, and Fire, which connects the Bacchus-plot of Islands with the Joe-and-Hermes-and-Eyeball plot of Show in Sicily. It also brings in a couple of Haphaestus-created magical/mechanical eyeballs which will be important for several later stories -- by this point, Joe and Bacchus and the Kid are all missing eyes.

During that first half of Bacchus, Campbell was the originator and central creator but not always working solo. Appropriately for these "American-style" comics, some of the superhero stuff was art-assisted by or just drawn by Ed Hillyer, and much of the mythological stuff was co-written with Wes Kublick, until the two had a falling-out over plot points.

That separation of the two modes continued at the beginning of of Bacchus, Volume Two: 1001 Nights of Bacchus is another group-of-retold-stories roundelay, set in a pub in England where the patrons can drink past closing time if they tell stories that keep Bacchus awake. The superhero material comes roaring back in the next two stories, Hermes Versus the Eyeball Kid and The Picture of Doreen Grey, which close out that strand of the overall story. And then the focus turns back to Bacchus as the focus first of that pub seceding from England in King Bacchus and then his subsequent incarceration for related crimes in Banged Up, the final Bacchus story.

It changed a little towards the end -- Bacchus got a new girlfriend, Collage, and even a baby -- but he was a remarkably passive title character for most of the run of his comic. Bacchus talked a lot, but he never did much. Things would happen with him around -- bacchanals are spurred by his mere presence, and license flourishes when the god of wine is near -- but Bacchus himself would mostly sit and drink and talk. That's a very unlikely thing for the hero of an "American-style" comic, but Campbell made it work for more than a decade, stringing out his own takes on actual mythology and superhero-style "mythology," plus the kitchen sink of every other kind of storytelling he felt like tackling at the moment.

To all of that he brought a scratchy, expressive line -- perfect for the banged-up faces of his multi-thousand-year-old main characters, and adaptable enough to shift to suit many modes of storytelling that he explored along the way -- and a seemingly bottomless enthusiasm for both story and wine. Bacchus is a great comic of myth and modernity, of the things people get up to when their inhibitions and tongues are loosened, and of the trouble they all can get into.

Book-A-Day 2018 #376: Poochytown by Jim Woodring

Here I go again, trying to eff the ineffable. I admit up front that it will either not work or be stupid for any one of a dozen reasons. But, if I'm reading books and writing about them, I need to do it even when it's doomed to fail.

Jim Woodring is a unique comics creator who makes wordless comics set in a world apparently called The Unifactor -- we know the names of many of his characters from his descriptions and occasional notes, but that's about it. Those worlds are full of nightmare-like transformations, full of organic forms growing and consuming and splitting and combining. I don't think anyone other than Woodring really understands any of it. I certainly don't.

I've written, badly, about Woodring books before: Fran and Weathercraft. And now I will write badly about his newest book, Poochytown.

From the flap copy -- supposedly a letter written to Woodring by "Walter Foxglove, The Smartest Artist" but I believe actually written by Woodring -- and from the odd subtitle "Discontinuing Congress of the Animals and Fran," I think Poochytown is something of a reboot. Woodring seems to be arguing that those two previous books were him trying to mold the story, and that the godlike Unifactor has since smacked him down in some way and forced him to tell the "real" story.

None of that actually makes much sense to me, but, then, neither does the actual story here, so that's fine.

So, two minor (unnamed?) characters have a squabble on the first few pages, which leads to various luggage being strewn across the landscape. Frank, the central character of the series, finds that luggage, along with his housemates/friends/pets Pupshaw and Pushpaw. Among the stuff is a tuba-like device that, when blown, generates an organic mass. The mass, for the first few blows, is interesting and falls to the ground to dissipate, but then one mighty breath makes it even larger, buoyant, and self-sustaining. That thing is filled with other creatures like Pupshaw and Pushpaw, and those two climb up into the thing to fly away with it. Frank, as happens so often, is left behind, alone.

Frank goes back to his house to find Manhog there, and initially drives him out before the two of them fight a horse-monster (?!) together and start to live in that house together. Manhog is a slob and Frank is randomly histrionically sad. They have some minor explorations together, and then find a steering wheel coming out of the ground (?!) and drive that (?!) into a crash (??!!!) which leads to some phantasmagorical stuff I can't even characterize.

Eventually, Frank finds and saves (?) Pupshaw and Pushpaw from the flying land of things like them, since they were being mutated/transformed by being there (?!). Everything goes back to the way it was in the end, and Manhog is kicked out of the house.

My sense is that Woodring's work is something like a classical allegory, based entirely in Woodring's own dream-logic and imagery: every character and object stands for something in his private schema, and each book presents a fable of how those elements of mind, or society, or life, interact in various ways, and provide positive or negative object lessons.

I've never managed to figure out the key to those allegories, though -- never quite figured out what Manhog or Frank or the tuba represent. So reading a Woodring book is like scanning a poem in an unfamiliar language -- well, more that it's like reading a language that re-uses all of the words from English but means entirely different things by those words.

There is no one else like Jim Woodring; his books are marvelous in their unique, inexplicable power. But I don't understand them, and I've never found anyone else whose understanding of them is explicable to me.

Book-A-Day 2018 #375: Five Rings, Six Crises, Seven Dwarfs, and 38 Ways to Win an Argument by John Boswell and Dan Starer

A lot of supposedly new things have been around for a while. For example: that quintessential piece of Internet content, the listicle.

Those used to appear all of the time in magazines -- some still do. And people would actually pay money for large collections of listicles in book form. This right here is one of them.

Five Rings, Six Crises, Seven Dwarfs, and 38 Ways to Win an Argument is a 1990 book, late in the flourishing of listicle books that followed the great modern originator, 1977's The Book of Lists. This particular version was compiled by John Boswell and Dan Starer, who have no biographies in the book itself, and organized into the usual thematic chapters.

Those chapters are organized in a lazy alphabetical list, from American Culture to Sports and Games with stops at Christianity, Eastern Religions, European History, Literature, Military, New Age, Philosophy, Politics, and Psychology along the way (along with more than a dozen others). Each chapter is arranged in ascending order, so, for example, Judaism begins with "The Four Questions" and runs up to "The Thirteen Articles of Faith."

Much of this book is still applicable and true. Some sections, though -- particularly those dealing with the then-current world -- are now outdated or superseded or just counting things no one cares about anymore. (In one of my areas of knowledge, they list the Big Eight accounting firms, which is now down to a Big Four.) Almost all of it is trivial, obviously.

One piece which is not trivial is called out in the title: Schopenhauer's Thirty-Eight Stratagems, excerpted from the 1896 English translation of his Art of Controversy. It's a depressing list for several reasons, primarily because it shows people have always tried to bamboozle others; these are all end-runs around logic and clear argumentation, and all will be very familiar to anyone who has followed the politics of any nation in any era. It's eye-opening to see them all laid out, one by one, as options to the unscrupulous arguer -- many of us could provide contemporary examples of most of the stratagems. And being able to identify them by number could definitely be useful in life: it's one way to point out bad-faith arguments. Luckily, you don't need to dig up a long-out-of-print minor book of lists: Schopenhauer is well out of copyright, so I can just link to an online version of the list. (You're welcome.)

Other than that, this is solid book of lists: full of minor quirky facts that the reader might remember for a little while or that might accidentally lodge deep in the brain to come out at some random time later. That is the joy of random facts, so this definitely does its job.

Book-A-Day 2018 #373: Tales of the Beanworld by Larry Marder

OK, since I looked at the first Beanworld omnibus a couple of weeks ago, I've done a little Bean research. That big book collected the first two smaller Beanworld collections, and there are two more books out since then, continuing to collect the main series.

All good news for me! But my recent trip to a comics shop did not turn up either of those books.

What it did turn up is the lone full-color Beanworld book, which took some random pieces from other publications and wrapped them into a frame story. Larry Marder calls it "Beanworld Vol. 3.5" -- all of the pieces are in-continuity, real stories of his characters in their world, but they're not part of the main sequence.

That sounded good enough to be the next thing to read, so I grabbed Tales of the the Beanworld from the shelf.

This is much shorter than the other Beanworld books -- only 64 pages, with everything else running close to 200 for the regular books and double that for the Omnibus. It collects "While We Wuz Eatin'" from the mid-90s Asylum anthology from Maximum Press -- which I expect most Beanworld readers would not also own -- plus two short stories from the online MySpace Dark Horse Presents and one from a Beanworld Holiday Special.

Normally, that would make the usual odds and sods collections -- the pieces that didn't get integrated into the main storyline -- but Marder instead reorganized them, set them into a single framing story, and entirely re-did the color from those Asylum pieces (which apparently were in very Image-style '90s hues originally). So Tales is a story of its own: an episodic one, true, but Beanworld is episodic anyway.

The Asylum story is another one where something strange visits the Beanworld from the wider corners of this universe -- Marder calls it a Red-Hatted Gangster Racketeer in his afterword, but it's unnamed in the story itself. It makes threats, but is driven off by Mr. Spook and the rest, leaving some pieces behind. Tales, as it turns out, is all about pieces left behind -- the rest of the stories are about toys that the "Cuties" (juvenile Beans) have outgrown, and what to do with them.

Marder's Beans, in these stories at least, come down on the side of saving everything, since it will be useful later. That's not necessarily the best advice in the real world, but I'll take it -- I tend to that direction myself.

Tales is not the place to start with the Beanworld. And it might be better read after volume 3, which I haven't done myself. But I think as long as you've to the point where the Cuties are introduced, it'll be just fine. And Beanworld is unique and special: you should check it out, eventually.

Book-A-Day 2018 #372: House of Holes by Nicholson Baker

You know how some genres are massively unrealistic, all tied up in their specific tropes and expectations?

Some people see that as a limitation. Nicholson Baker sees it as a challenge.

House of Holes is his post-modern porn novel -- well, Vox and The Fermata were also porn novels, of a kind, but House of Holes is a porn novel for our Internet-steeped, all-kink-all-the-time world, where everything is fine as long as you don't do it in the road and scare the horses.

(Note that I am not saying it is a good novel. It isn't. But let's see where my typing fingers take me.)

Porn, like improvisational comedy, relies on the "yes, and" reaction. In the fictional world of a porn, everyone is happy to have sex with the people who want to have sex with them, and everyone magically lines up perfectly in interests and kinks. If one person in a sex scene suddenly wants her toes sucked, her partner loves the idea.

Ironically, porn is frictionless. The world in which porn takes place is one where it's always easier, preferable, and more pleasant to just have sex. That's not any real world, but when so many stories take place in patently unreal worlds, why should we balk at this one version?

There are a lot of names in House of Holes, but none of them are really characters. Like a lot of porn, there are a lot of names so supposedly different characters can do different things with different people over time -- it would be boring if there were only two names, even if nearly all of the scenes here are deeply conventional one-man-having-sex-with-one-woman sessions.

The title House of Holes is a mildly extradimensional realm, run by a woman named Lila. It seems like anyone can go there, through various mystic portals found in various holes here and there, but there's clearly some kind of sorting mechanism: only those people who match the porn paradigm (at least relatively young, attractive, and having the mindset I described above) make it through. For some undefined "season" -- which is only mentioned at the end, in a slightly awkward way an unfriendly reader might characterize as Baker suddenly realizing he has no plot and no characters and has to make up some way to end the damn thing -- those people gambol and cavort in various sex-themed resort-type activities.

A few of them are employees. Most of the women are allowed in free, or nearly free, for the obvious reasons. Men pay through the nose, gladly. It's not clear if Baker means this as some kind of metaphor for sex in general, but House of Holes is generally too sunny for cynical interpretations.

Each of the first eight or ten chapters shows a new character, mostly alternating between male and female, stumbling upon the House of Holes and looking for fun there. These scenes all have something in common with portal fantasy, but none of the new arrivals are particularly surprised by their new surroundings, and all are thrilled to get down to the serious fucking. After a large cast -- or at least a large number of names with a couple of attributes each -- has been assembled, Baker begins to mix and match, and to return to some of the thin plot-like threads he has set up, but new characters continue to arrive until nearly the end: endless novelty is an absolute requisite in the land of porn.

The sex these names have is generally very conventional: the major real-world fetishes are vanishingly rare in the House of Holes. (Nothing in the vast realm of BDSM, surprisingly no serious group action, partner-swapping, or anonymous activities, and so on.) Baker seems more interested in sex as masturbation, so there's a lot of couples manually pleasuring themselves or each other, and some mild bukkake related to that -- the old "woman is sexually excited by seeing a man obviously sexually excited" porn trope. He does make use of his mildly SFnal setup for some body-part swapping and similar stuff -- warehoused heads, runaway arms, dick swaps, and one super-shrunk woman. So if your fetishes happen to head in that very particular direction, you may be in luck.

There's a little mild situational lesbianism, as I recall, but no male-male activity. This is disappointing, even for me as a deeply straight man -- most of the other sex-positive stories I've seen (mostly in comics) make a point of including non-straight sexualities across the QUILTBAG spectrum. Baker, on the other hand, is pretty much locked into a somewhat old-fashioned Tab A into Slot B porn paradigm. (Even when a male-female couple swap bits, that's what they then do with their borrowed bits.)

So the plot isn't the point of House of Holes. Nor the characters, nor even (maybe surprisingly) the sex itself. Baker is a literary writer, so the appeal here is his invented thesaurus of sex. Let me pick some random pages for examples: titboobs, "his purple cameroon," "her cuntal hand," crotchy holders, the pornmonster, dickybird, Monsieur Twinklestump. He uses the standard Anglo-Saxon terms a lot, too, but gets into silly flights of linguistic fantasy regularly when describing what the body parts are doing in this scene.

I found the language often painfully goofy, and regularly distracting, but I think "distracting" is the point. Baker doesn't want the reader to have the usual reaction to porn; he wants that reader to keep being pulled out of the porn-world by his strange terms, and keep dropping back in again. In fact, I think House of Holes is exactly the book Baker wanted it to be: mildly arousing, entirely superficial, arguable as a commentary on porn by a writer who clearly hasn't been particularly engaged with porn for a few decades at best. It's a fine book for vanilla people who want something a little naughty, but it can come across as pretty thin to anyone looking for more than that.

Book-A-Day 2018 #371: Saga, Vol. 9 by Brian K. Vaughan and Fiona Staples

If you know anything about Saga, you know there's a big change at the end of this book, and that the series is now on a longer hiatus than usual. If you know nothing about Saga, you might just have been living in a hole for the last seven years, and nearly anything I could say would be a spoiler for the first fifty-some issues and nine volumes.

But that's always the issue with writing about a long-running media thing: there are the people who follow it passionately, who know everything you could possibly tell them, and the ones who have ignored it, who won't get any of the backstory. What I try to do is write down the middle -- for the people who know the thing exists but aren't uberfans, who might be caught up or might not, since life is complicated and this media thing isn't going to be everyone's biggest priority.

That brings me to Saga, Vol. 9 today. It's written by Brian K. Vaughan and illustrated -- pencils, inks, colors, the whole deal -- by Fiona Staples, as all of the issues to date have been and all of the issues to come are supposed to be. If you want to remind yourself of how we got here, you could check out what I wrote about the previous books: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.

It's a soft-SF epic, set in a a universe influenced by Star Wars but full of its own quirks and specifics. Two soldiers from opposite sides of a very long-running war -- their people are set up to be opposites in as many ways as Vaughan could manage -- met before the series began and fell in love. The first issue depicted the birth of their daughter Hazel; Saga is meant to be her story, and she's been narrating the comic more and more as she's gotten older. Now she's somewhere in the middle of what we'd call her elementary-school years -- maybe six, maybe eight. She and her parents, and various helpers, have been on the run her entire life, and have been chased by various others, on and off, the whole time. There are a lot of moments of peace, but the war is always in the background: both sides would very much like to capture and/or kill both parents, and do that or worse to Hazel.

Vaughan and Staples have been clear from the beginning that Saga is Hazel's story, not that of Marco and Alana, her parents. But she was a baby for the first twenty or thirty issues, so that message wasn't as clear as they might have thought. And, frankly, even now she's not old enough to have a story really separate from her parents and keepers -- the emphasis on Hazel in the interviews around the most recent issue and hiatus seem to me to be signposts to say "Saga is going to run for a lot of issues -- well over a hundred," given how long it's taken to get Hazel to this age and how little agency she has had so far.

I don't mind long stories, as long as they are stories. Saga has a lot of serial comics in its DNA, but I think it still has the bones of a single story. I wouldn't be surprised to see Saga come back after the hiatus with a time-jump, bumping Hazel up to an age when she really can affect events. Maybe not, though: maybe I'm just trying to hurry along something that will continue to go at its own pace.

Saga is still a very strong, humanistic work of SF, a story of people in danger and how they react to various stresses and demands and threats. Not all of them do what we'd hope they would, just like life. But they're all real, and they're what keep Saga worth reading.

Book-A-Day 2018 #370: Paper Girls, Vol. 5 by Brian K. Vaughan and Cliff Chiang

Hey! The time-cops finally get named in this book! They're called WATCH -- we don't know what that stands for, but baby steps, man, baby steps -- and the old guy who runs them is Jahpo Thapa.

And our heroines learn more than his name, which I won't spoil: they learn who he is and how he matters to them.

So, just maybe, Paper Girls Vol. 5 sees this series moving on from throwing out ideas at random and is now finally starting to knit them together into something coherent that can move towards an ending. I'm not holding my breath, but the signs are getting better.

(See my posts on the earlier volumes: one, two, three, four.)

As always, this story of a complicated (and not actually explained, even now) intergenerational time war focuses on four tween girls who were delivering newspapers early in the morning of November 1, 1988 when one piece of that war erupted into their home town of Cleveland. They've been to prehistory and several versions of the future -- including the amazing world of Y2K! -- but this time they're in an actually futuristic future some fifty or sixty years up the line.

(Bad news for me: this locks down the stupid leet-speek future talk to that era, which is even more stupid than when I could pretend in my head that it changed over a few centuries. But it's still Wicked Rad Kewl, which is the real point.)

So Erin, Mac, K.J., and Tiffany -- plus the Y2K version of Tiff they picked up in the last volume -- are stranded in dystopian future Cleveland, with a population in stylish jumpsuits and headgear and the occasional flying murderous police. But they head to the library, and actually piece together a few bits of the backstory in between fighting library golems, being shot at by the aforementioned flying cops, and interrogating senile old women.

They learn that they're considered criminals, maybe because of the kid terrorist time-travelers we've seen before and maybe just because everybody is completely confused about the real origins of the time anomalies and war. That doesn't help much, since they're still a bunch of twelve-year-olds stranded in a city with no way home, among people who talk like particularly stupid members of the gang from Dark Knight Returns.

And, in the end, there's another big problem for the four of them, and they're all stranded in time again. I hope it won't take another five volumes to learn what's the vague deal of the junior combatants in the time war, but I'm not going to hold my breath. My sense is that Paper Girls, like any good serial comic, is going to spin out its central conceit for as long as the audience is willing to keep paying for it. Since I like time-war stories, I guess I'll just keep giving it one volume at a time, and keep up with it as long as there's still something new and interesting in each volume.

But I'd still rather have a real ending rather than endless recomplication.

Book-A-Day 2018 #369: Mage: The Hero Denied, Vol. 1 (or maybe 5) by Matt Wagner

Kevin Matchstick is supposedly retired from the nasty-hunting game, to protect his family. He and his wife Magda have two young kids -- Hugo is in third grade and Miranda is in pre-school -- and they seem to be moving around more often than they'd like, to keep a low profile and stay one step ahead of the big nasties that would be after Kevin.

(What does that mean for the metaphor, in that Kevin is transparently a stand-in for creator Matt Wagner and nasty-fighting the equivalent of his comics career? I don't know of a period when Wagner was semi-retired, but maybe I wasn't paying attention.)

If you don't know what any of that means, you probably need to go back and see the first two stories about Kevin -- The Hero Discovered from the mid-80s and The Hero Defined from the late '90s. He's a supernatural hero in a world with both heroes and villains -- plus some others around the edges, like the witch he married -- and the usual mass of humanity unknowing about any of them.

Kevin is The Pendragon: the reincarnation of King Arthur, more or less. And of others, too -- there's a moment in this book where a major nasty calls him Gilgamesh, and that fits about as well. All of the avatars -- we saw a bunch in Defined, and may see more before this series is done -- are mythic figures, and myths are tricky, changing things. They show up, fight something bad, and often win in the end. Often, not always. A lot of hero-myths end with the tragic death of the hero, after all -- Beowulf, Hercules, Theseus.

And, more pointedly, King Arthur.

I don't think Wagner is planning to kill off his fictional avatar for the climax of Mage: The Hero Denied, but I could be wrong, and it would be appropriate.

This book, Vol. 5 [1], collects the front half of the Hero Denied series -- the first eight issues. We see Kevin, living quietly and trying to stay retired but not doing a very good job of that. The Umbra Sprite is back, still seeking the Fisher King: now in a female form, with a new group of children, the female Gracklethorns, who are just as cruel and dangerous as their predecessors. The Umbra Sprite also seems more organized and focused this time around, more in control of herself than the male version was in Hero Discovered, more able to summon major supernatural entities to find and attack Kevin.

Let's not forget that Kevin is much more vulnerable now: he has a wife and children to protect. Magda may be a witch, but her power doesn't have any combat applications -- she can help them stay quiet and safe and protected, but there's no sign she can do anything once the nasties arrive. And the kids are...well, kids, though Miranda may have some budding power.

Worst of all, the third conflict is rising and there's no sign of a third mage. The magic ATM card still works, but no matter how much Kevin talks at the machine, there's no response.

So: the nasties are more organized, and more focused on Kevin. They learn he has a weakness, a family. And there's no one to help him -- Joe Phat is out of the hero business, Kirby Hero is dead, the new breed of avatars are self-obsessed light-weights, and there's no new mage anywhere to be seen.

It is called The Hero Denied, after all.

I still think Wagner will pull out a triumphant ending, but the hero's journey must be difficult and fraught with dangers -- that's the whole point. At the end of this book, we're in the middle of the third, climactic story of Kevin Matchstick, which should be, by all laws of fiction, his lowest point.

Well, it could get worse before the end. There's always more low points.

Hero Discovered started a little shakily, with too-overwrought dialogue, but settled down quickly. Hero Defined was crisp and professional, but a little surface-y, particularly in its inconclusive ending. It remains to be seen how Hero Denied will end, but, so far, Wagner's building a strong story and avoiding any cheap outs. And his art is strong and expressive, particularly well-supported by his son Brennan Wagner's colors. We're not at the end yet, but it's in sight.

One last consumer note: oddly, this book does not include the individual issue covers, unlike every other comics collection I've ever seen. I have no idea why, but don't be surprised if there's a bigger, full-Hero Denied hardcover collection later in 2019, with the covers and some additional bells and whistles.


[1] The current reprinting of the three Mage mini-series uses overall numbering, which is confusing for anyone who wants to come in with this book. Vol. 5 is the first book of Hero Denied.

Book-A-Day 2018 #368: Michael Moorcock's Elric: The Balance Lost, Vol. 1 by Roberson, Biagini, and Downer

I looked at a Michael Moorcock "Eternal Champion" comic -- primarily by other hands -- a couple of months ago, and noted that Moorcock made several attempts overt the years to end that series. Well, I'm back with another EC book, from 2011. And that era is, as far as I can tell, well after the point when Moorcock realized the EC would outlive him, and that he only needed to give it as much attention as he felt like at any moment.

What I mean is: he seems to have given up on closing out the series, which is all to the good. What sense does it make to have an ending for the Eternal Champion?

This series is titled for the most popular (and first) incarnation of the EC, Elric, but he's joined by several others -- Dorian Hawkmoon, Corum of the Silver Hand, and a guy from what I probably shouldn't call Earth-Prime named Eric Beck -- to make this another multi-EC story like Sailor on the Seas of Fate and several others. Writer Chris Roberson is clearly a serious Moorcock fan, so he knows these characters and does them all well.

But what I have here is just the beginning. As I understand it, Elric: The Balance Lost ran for twelve issues, and this Vol. 1 just reprints the first four issues (plus the prologue from a Free Comic Book Day giveaway). So the very last pages here see those four heroes, each holding a big pointy sword, probably about to meet through some interdimensional hoo-ha of the kind the Moorcock Multiverse is so full of.

But it hasn't happened quite yet.

So this first volume is all set-up: Elric is wandering between worlds, somewhere in the middle of his career [1], and Hawkmoon is suspicious that his insect-helmeted enemies are resurgent somewhere, and Corum saves his old companion Jhary-a-Conel, and Eric gets caught up in the street thuggery of the Law Party. All are told by a companion that the Balance -- the comic force that keeps either Law and Chaos from completely taking over -- has been endangered, and may be capital-L Lost.

We see that some worlds are overrun by Chaos, and those are full of bizarre monsters and about to collapse into nothingness. Others are overrun by Law, filled with fascists like the ones we learn are led by Eric's evil twin Garrison Bow. And both of those things are Bad, so our four heroes will eventually need to band together to hit things with swords to make the universe better.

For now, though, they're each out on their own, in different worlds, hitting things with swords individually, under the care and tutelage of various mentors, friends, and mysterious personages.  Some of them are hitting Law-things, some of them are hitting Chaos-things, but it's all part of the same problem, and eventually -- around the end of Volume 3, I expect -- they'll manage to find one big thing they can all hit with their swords at the same time and save the balance.

Eternal Champion stories do get pretty formulaic: that's just the way they are. It's fantasy adventure of a particular kind, and generally quite entertaining. Roberson clearly has a deep knowledge and affection for the Moorcock Multiverse, and throws in a lot of little bits from other stories to show that this is one of the big stories that effects everything. Artist Francesco Biagini does the script justice, though I do think he has the standard problem of making Elric look too strong and powerful -- Elric can barely stand up without his sword, and only survives because of it.

So Elric: The Balance Lost is a good EC story, with lots of Easter Eggs for long-time Moorcock fans -- or, lat least, this first third is. Let me see if I can find the other pieces to find out how it comes out in the end....


[1] Elric's timeline is a little muddled because Moorcock wrote his death first and has been filling in middle ever since. There probably is someone -- maybe even Roberson -- who knows how all of the Elric stories are related in time, but that person is not me.

Book-A-Day 2018 #367: Calla Cthulhu. Vol. 1 by Dorkin, Dyer & Humiston

I have to believe the name came first. Maybe semi-serious, maybe entirely as a joke. But someone said "Doesn't Call o' Cthulhu sound like a girl's name?" and it all went on from there.

In the end, it's not quite that on-the-nose -- the green-haired teen on the cover of Calla Cthulhu, Vol. 1 is actually named Calla Tafali. But she is descended from the Great Old One who lies dreaming in R'lyeh. [1] And she is being urged, rather strongly, to join the family business. (By her "Uncle Hastur," the fellow in the yellow mask at lower left.)

So, yes, Calla Cthulhu is a YA coming-of-age action-adventure story set in the Cthulhu Mythos, with the usual kid who rejects her evil heritage in favor of goodness and awesomeness and niceness. It's a little bit like a Lovecraftian-flavored distaff version of Hellboy, aimed squarely at a teen audience. This first volume collects the first four issues -- or maybe episodes, since it was originally published on-line, and the panels are reproduced larger here than I expected.

Since those panels are large, and there are fewer of them on the page than you might expect, Calla Cthulhu has less story than you'd expect from a book of 250ish pages -- the "action-adventure" aspect also adds to that, since fight scenes take more time and page-space than long scenes of talking heads droning on about things that are squamous or rugose or possibly both. (Note: Calla contains quite a bit of the former but none of the latter.)

The four episodes here are just enough to introduce Calla, give us her origin, and set up the opponents/family and some potential allies in her battle to keep humanity sane and alive. Her origin has the usual tragedy, and actually explains how her hair turned green. (It doesn't seem to be as tentacle-like in the actual story as on the cover, but maybe that's a power-up she hasn't entirely unlocked yet.) She also has a spooky old ancestral house, because all of the Old Gods need to have a pad in town, dig?

(Narrator: None of the other Old Gods have a pad in town.)

It's hard for me to say if the impetus behind Calla Cthulhu was silly, cynical, or honest -- it's such a high concept that it makes me suspicious, but it's all done straightforwardly and directly here, without any winks to the reader. I'm not sure if Lovecraftian ideas are that embedded in the culture that you can just use them in a YA story like this and expect a large audience of actual young people will recognize and accept them, but young people are probably smarter and more genre-savvy than I'm giving them credit for.

If you do know the Mythos, and are interested in a story about a spunky teen girl trying not to live up to her destiny, Calla Cthulhu does the job nicely. It's smart enough about its tropes in the writing (by Evan Dorkin and Sarah Dyer) and has a clean webcomics look from artist Erin Humiston. It might be dead, though: the thirteen episodes to date on the webcomics platform Stela seem to have been reconfigured into the four chapters of this book and the website hasn't been updated since launch in 2016. So there's a bit of a caveat there: if you want the beginning of a story that will possibly never go any further, check it out.


[1] The book does not explain how, and perhaps it's best not to try to envision what kind of matings would lead to a human child of human parents whose distant ancestor is a sea-dwelling space monster made of tentacles. That's not the genre of this story, at least....

Book-A-Day 2018: Post-Mortem

Introductory

First of all: yes, I know. It does seem odd to have a post-mortem for something not yet dead. But, trust me, Book-A-Day 2018 is dead: everything is read and all of the posts written and scheduled. [1] It's just going to twitch a bit for the next two weeks while the dying makes it out to all of the extremities.

2018 was my fourth run of Book-A-Day here on Antick Musings -- before that, it was something I did myself in a desultory way for a few weeks or months, to kick myself out of a reading doldrum. Those prior runs are the year of 2014, a year-long stretch covering 2010-2011, and a 200-day stretch in 2006-2007.

Book-A-Day can be either of two things: either I'm reading a book every day, or I'm writing a post about a book every day. Over the course of a year, the latter turns into the former, obviously. And every time I do this, I try to do both, and I think it's been more successful each time. (Of course, I would think that.)

This is probably the last time I do a Book-A-Day year. I have two reasons for that, one serious-logistical and one silly.

The silly reason first: I just realized that I was laid off soon after finishing every other Book-A-Day run: first in April of 2006 (after ending in February) and then in January of 2015 (after the 2014 run). I should be safe this time, but I'm not planning to tempt fate.

The more serious reason is that I just don't have the vast masses of quick-to-read books coming into my house that I did back in the SFBC days, and I've now worked down all of the remnants of both those days and what I've bought since then. (Well, the quick-to-read portions of both: I still have far more unread books than I can get to in the next five years.)

So even if I wanted to do Book-A-Day again, in 2021 or so, and tempt the Job Gods, I probably wouldn't have the books to do it with. I relied heavily on the library this time out, and the only way to do that again would be to read a lot of junk that I don't care much about just to pad out the totals. (Which, come to think of it, I did quite a bit in the 2014 and 2010-2011 runs.)

Given that, let me take a look at what I did read in 2018, in the manner of the previous Post-Mortems for 2006-2007 and 2014. There will be only one graph, I think, and this is it.

In 2018, I read 433 books in 365 days and wrote 379 blog posts covering 437 books and 6 individual comics issues. Careful readers will note that I wrote about more books in 2018 than I read; I started the year with a small cushion of stuff read in December 2017. I also read more books than I wrote posts, because I wrote about longer series (all comics) more and more as the year went on. The numbers and percentages in the chart and below are based on number of books rather than number of posts.

I don't know if everyone likes placing books into tidy little categories as much as I do, though the wars over the SF/Fantasy border seem to prove they do. But it's how I organize these Post-Mortem posts, so here's what I read, as I categorize it:

Fiction: SF and Fantasy (18, 4.2%)

• Steven Brust, Vallista
• Diana Wynne Jones, The Pinhoe Egg
• Stewart O'Nan, The Night Country
• Dan Wells, Nothing Left To Lose
• James Morrow, The Asylum of Dr. Caligari
• Charles Stross, The Delirium Brief
• Peter Watts, The Freeze-Frame Revolution
• Peter S. Beagle, In Calabria
• James Alan Gardner, All Those Explosions Were Someone Else's Fault
• Matthew Hughes, The Commons
• Steve Erickson, Days Between Stations
• Martha Wells, Artificial Condition
• Kage Baker and Kathleen Bartholomew, Nell Gwynne's On Land and At Sea
• Steven Brust, Good Guys
• Martha Wells, Rogue Protocol
• Jeff Vandermeer, Annihilation
• Nicholson Baker, House of Holes
• Martha Wells, Exit Strategy

This is what I used to do for a living: I know, I'm surprised it's this small a portion of my reading these days, too. I keep saying that I'd be happy to go back to SFF publishing if they wanted me, but I have no idea how my current expertise would align with that world.

In 2014, this was 4.4%, with 16 books.

Fiction: Mystery and Thriller (5, 1.2%)

• Lawrence Block, The Girl With the Deep Blue Eyes
• Lawrence Block, Borderline
• James Crumley, The Wrong Case
• Massimo Carlotto and Marco Videtta, Poisonville
• Dennis Lehane, The Drop

The larger genre right next door to SFF, in which I also used to read a lot more. Several of my would-be reading projects are in this area; maybe one or more will happen in 2019.

In 2014, this was 0.5%, with 2 books.

Fiction: Mainstream (10, 2.3%)

• J.M. Coetzee, Waiting for the Barbarians
• P.G. Wodehouse, A Pelican at Blandings
• Haruki Murakami, Men Without Women
• Nicholson Baker, The Anthologist
• Tom Perrotta, Mrs. Fletcher
• Simon Rich, Spoiled Brats
• P.G. Wodehouse, Young Men in Spats
• Carlos Fuentes, The Old Gringo
• Stewart O'Nan, The Odds
• Jay McInerney, Story of My Life

I'm reading fewer long books of prose in the first place these days, but it seems like about the same percentage of it is not obviously genre. But I tend to think of this category as defined negatively: it's what doesn't fit into clear genres.

In 2014, this was 2.7%, with 10 books.

Non-Fiction: Narrative (15, 3.5%)

• Deborah Blum, The Poisoner's Handbook
• Kevin Underhill, The Emergency Sasquatch Ordinance
• Ben Blatt, Nabokov's Favorite Word Is Mauve
• Georges Perec, The Art of Asking Your Boss for a Raise
• Bruce Chatwin, In Patagonia
• Richard Gehr, I Only Read It for the Cartoons
• Jackson Landers, Eating Aliens
• Chris Offutt, My Father, The Pornographer
• Robert Niles, Stories from a Theme Park Insider
• Reverend Jen, Live Nude Elf
• James Thurber and E.B. White, Is Sex Necessary?
• Kelly and Zach Weinersmith, Soonish
• Barbara Ehrenreich, Nickel and Dimed
• Tony Horwitz, One for the Road
• Adam Resnick, Will Not Attend

This is the category for relatively serious non-fiction -- histories, travelogues, memoirs, stuff like that. It's really miscellaneous, obviously.

In 2014, this was 6%, with 22 books.

Non-Fiction: Lists and Frivolities (17, 3.9%)

• Paul Theroux, The Tao of Travel
• Randall Munroe, Thing Explainer
• Scott Rubin, Sean Crespo, and Mason Brown, editors, National Lampoon's Big Book of Love
• Shannon Wheeler, Sh*t My President Says
• Andy Warner, Brief Histories of Everyday Objects
• Terry Pratchett*, The Compleat Discworld Atlas
• Laura Lee, Around the World in 80 Cliches
• P.G. Wodehouse, Louder and Funnier
• Baboon Metaphysics and Other Implausibly Titled Books
• Howard Mohr, How to Speak Minnesotan
• Jason Novak, Et Tu Brute?
• Russell Ash, It Just Slipped Out...
• Jesse Sheidlower, The F Word
• Christopher J. Moore, In Other Words
• Neil Gaiman and Kim Newman, editors, Ghastly Beyond Belief
• Marc Sobel and Kristy Valenti, editors, The Love and Rockets Companion
• John Boswell and Dan Starer, Five Rings, Six Crises, Seven Dwarfs and 38 Ways to Win An Argument

And this is the non-fiction category for things that aren't serious at all -- a lot of these were bathroom books, and this category has often been the place for things I read quickly in an evening when I realized I hadn't read a book yet that day. But my sense is that the cute little gift-y thing that sits by the cast register isn't really a big book category anymore.

In 2014, this was 2.7%, with 10 books.

Comics: Strip and Panel Collections (27, 6.2%)

• Tom Gauld, Baking With Kafka
• Richard Sala, The Bloody Cardinal
• Jennifer Hayden, Underwire
• Julia Wertz, Museum of Mistakes
• Dan Piraro, Bizarro Heroes
• Gabrielle Bell, Everything Is Flammable
• Jillian Tamaki, Boundless
• John Porcellino, The Hospital Suite
• Berkeley Breathed, The Bloom County Library, Vol. 4: 1986-1987
• The New Yorker Book of Mom Cartoons
• Jason Shiga, Demon (4 vols.)
• Fran Krause, The Creeps
• Frederick Burr Opper's Happy Hooligan
• Roz Chast, The Four Elements
• Dave McKean, Pictures That Tick 2
• art spiegelman, The Complete Maus
• George Booth, Think Good Thoughts About a Pussycat
• Matt Furie, Boy's Club
• Keith Knight, What a Long Strange Strip It's Been
• Rick Geary, A Treasury of Victorian Murder, Vol. 1
• Liz Prince, Look Back and Laugh
• Peter Bagge, Everybody Is Stupid Except for Me
• Shannon Wheeler, Memoirs of a Very Stable Genius
• Dan Zettwoch and Kevin Huizenga, Amazing Facts and Beyond! with Leon Beyond

I divide the world of comics into possibly idiosyncratic categories, based on how they first appeared. I think it makes sense; you may disagree. First up are books of comics that originally appeared as individual strips somewhere -- online or in print. This used to be mostly collections of newspaper comics, then mostly collections of webcomics, and now it's pretty miscellaneous.

In 2014, this was 10.4%, with 38 books.

Comics: Floppy Collections (194, 44.8%)

• Frank Thorne, The Complete Iron Devil
• Roger Langridge, Fred the Clown in "The Iron Duchess" 
• Matt Fraction and Chip Zdarsky, Sex Criminals, Vol. 4: Fourgy!
• Jeff Lemire, Royal City, Vol. 1: Next of Kin
• Teri S. Wood, Wandering Star
• Greg Rucka and Matthew Southworth, Stumptown, Vol. 1: The Case of the Girl Who Took Her Shampoo (But Left Her Mini)
• Howard Chaykin's American Flagg!, Vol. 1
• Brandon Graham, King City
• Paul Grist, Jack Staff, Vol. 1: Everything Used To Be Black and White
• Howard Chaykin, Black Kiss and Black Kiss 2
• Paul Hornschemeier, The Collected Sequential
• Jeff Smith, editor, The Best American Comics 2013
• Zander Cannon, Kaijumax, Season Two: The Seamy Underbelly
• Marjorie Liu and Sana Takeda, Monstress, Vol. 1: Awakening
• Cecil Castellucci and Marley Zarcone, Shade the Changing Girl, Vol. 1: Earth Girl Made Easy
• Jonathan Lethem, editor, The Best American Comics 2015 and Roz Chast, editor, The Best American Comics 2016
• Batton Lash, The Soddyssey and Other Tales of Supernatural Law and The Werewolf of New York
• Ryan North and Erica Henderson, The Unbeatable Squirrel Girl, Vol. 3: Squirrel, You Really Got Me Now
• Frank Miller, Brian Azzarello, Andy Kubert, and Klaus Jason, Batman: The Dark Knight: Master Race
• Kyle Baker, Nat Turner
• Paul Grist and Phil Elliott, Jack Staff, Vol. 2: Soldiers
• Charles Forsman, I Am Not Okay With This
• Sergio Aragones, Mark Evanier, and Thomas Yeates, Groo Vs. Conan
  
• Jeff Lemire and Dustin Nguyen,  Descender, Vol. 4
• Brian K. Vaughan and Cliff Chiang, Paper Girls, Vol. 3
• Ted McKeever, Meta4
• Mike Mignola, Chris Roberson and Paul Grist, The Visitor: How and Why He Stayed
• Mike Mignola, Chris Roberson and Christopher Mitten, Rise of the Black Flame
• Brian K. Vaughan and Fiona Staples, Saga, Vol. 8
• Mike Mignola, Chris Roberson, and various artist, Hellboy and the B.P.R.D.: 1954
• Paul Levitz and Steve Lightle, Legion of Super-Heroes: The More Things Change
• Gary Spencer Millidge, Strangehaven: Brotherhood
• Mike Grell, Jon Sable Freelance: Ashes of Eden
• Roberta Gregory, As Naughty As She Wants to Be!
• Jamie Hewlett and Alan Martin, Tank Girl, Vol. 1
• Ryan North and Erica Henderson, The Unbeatable Squirrel Girl, Vol. 4: I Kissed a Squirrel and I Liked It
• Neil Gaiman, et. al., Free Country: A Tale of the Children's Crusade
• Kurt Busiek and Brent Eric Anderson, Astro City: The Dark Age, Vol. 1: Brothers and Other Strangers
• G. Willow Wilson and various artists, Ms. Marvel, Vol. 5: Super Famous
• Noelle Stevenson, Shannon Watters, and Carolyn Nowak, Lunberjanes, Vol. 3: A Terrible Plan
• Tom King and Gabriel Hernandez Walta, The Vision (2 Vols.)
• Jamie Hewlett and Alan Martin, Tank Girl, Vol. 2
• Stephen Murphy and Michael Zulli, The Puma Blues
• Mike Mignola and various collaborators, Abe Sapien, Vols. 8 and 9
• Dave McKean, Cages
• Howard Chaykin and Jose Luis Garcia-Lopez, Twilight
• Joe R. Landsale, Tim Truman, and Sam Glanzman, Jonah Hex: Shadows West
• John Allison, Lissa Treiman, and Max Sarin, Giant Days: Not On the Test Edition, Vols.1 and 2
• Kate Leth, Brittney L. Williams, and Natasha Allegri, Patsy Walker A.K.A. Hellcat!, Vol. 1: Hooked On a Feline
• Andi Watson, Skeleton Key (5 vols.)
• Dennis O'Neil, Denys Cowan, and Rick Magyar, The Question, Vol. 2: Poisoned Ground
• John Layman and Rob Guillory, Chew: The Omnivore Edition, Vol. 4
• Jaime Hernandez, Maggie the Mechanic
• Hartley Lin, Young Frances
• Gilbert Hernandez, Heartbreak Soup
• Brian K. Vaughan and Cliff Chiang, Paper Girls, Vol. 4
• Jeff Lemire, Royal City, Vol. 2: Sonic Youth
• Jaime Hernandez, The Girl from H.O.P.P.E.R.S.
• Richard Sala, The Chuckling Whatsit
• Matt Kindt and Tyler Jenkins, Grass Kings, Vol. 1
• Peter Milligan, Chris Bachalo, and Mark Pennington, Shade, the Changing Man, Vol. 1: The American Scream
• Gilbert Hernandez, Human Diastrophism
• Alan Moore and various artists, Saga of the Swamp Thing (6 vols.)
• Jaime Hernandez, Perla La Loca
• Bill Morrison, Roswell Walks Among Us
• Greg Ruth, Sudden Gravity
• Gilbert Hernandez, Beyond Palomar
• G. Willow Wilson, Adrian Alphona, Takeshi Miyazawa, and Mirka Andolfo, Ms. Marvel, Vol. 6: Civil War II
• Keith Giffen, J.M. DeMatteis, Kevin Maguire, and Joe Rubinstein, Formerly Known as the Justice League
• John Stanley with Lloyd White, Tubby, Vol. 3
• Michael Chabon's The Escapist: Amazing Adventures
• Los Bros Hernandez, Amor Y Cohetes
• Ryan North and Eric Henderson, The Unbeatable Squirrel Girl, Vol. 5: Like I'm the Only Squirrel in the World
• Noelle Stevenson, Shannon Watters, and Brooke Allen, Lumberjanes, Vol. 4: Out of Time
• Jaime Hernandez, Penny Century
• Marjorie Liu and Sana Takeda, Monstress, Vol. 2: The Blood
• Gilbert Hernandez, Luba and Her Family
• Warren Ellis, Chris Sprouse, Karl Story, and Colleen Doran, Ocean/Orbiter: The Deluxe Edition
• Various writers and artists, Star Wars: A Long Time Ago...: Dark Encounters
• Jamie S. Rich and Megan Levens, Ares & Aphrodite: Love Wars
• The Pander Brothers, Girlfiend
• Jaime Hernandez, Esperanza
• Philip Gelatt and Rick Lacy, Labor Days 2: Just Another Damn Day
• Cullen Bunn, Shawn Lee and Matt Kindt, The Tooth
• Linda Medley, Castle Waiting
• Keith Giffen, J.M. DeMatteis, Kevin Maguire, and Joe Rubinstein, I Can't Believe It's Not the Justice League
• Gilbert Hernandez, Ofelia
• Gilbert Hernandez, Comics Dementia
• Paul Grist, Jack Staff, Vols. 3 and 4
• Chris Oliveros, editor, Drawn & Quarterly Showcase: Book Two
• Dave Sim, Cerebus
• Jaime Hernandez, Angels and Magpies
• Mike Baron and Steve Rude, Nexus Archives, Vols. 1-9
• Brandon Montclare, Amy Reeder, and Natchas Bustos, Moon Girl and Devil Dinosaur, Vol. 1: BFF
• Kelly Sue DeConnick, Christopher Sebela, Dexter Soy, Emma Rios, and Filipe Andrade, Captain Marvel, Vol. 1: Earth's Mightiest Hero
• Gilbert Hernandez, Three Sisters
• Ian and Tyson Smith, Oddjob
• Kristen Gudsnuk, Henchgirl
• The Hernandez Brothers, Love and Rockets: New Stories, No. 1
• John Allison and various artists, Giant Days: Extra Credit, Vol. 1
• Matt Fraction and Chip Zdarsky, Sex Criminals, Vol. 5: Five-Fingered Discount
• Grant Morrison, Steve Yeowell, and Jon J. Muth, Sebastian O/The Mystery Play
• The Hernandez Brothers, Love and Rockets: New Stories, No. 2
• Brandon Graham, Multiple Warheads, Vol. 2: Ghostown
• Jeff Lemire and Dustin Nguyen, Descender, Vol. 5: Rise of the Robots
• Dave Sim, High Society
• The Hernandez Brothers, Love and Rockets: New Stories, No. 3
• G. Willow Wilson, Mirka Andolfo, Takeshi Miyazawa, and Francesco Gaston, Ms. Marvel, Vol. 7: Damage Per Second
• The Hernandez Brothers, Love and Rockets: New Stories, No. 4
• Howard Chaykin, David Tischman, Marc Laming, and John Stokes, American Century, Vols. 1 and 2
• The Hernandez Brothers, Love and Rockets: New Stories, No. 5
• Carla Speed McNeil, The Finder Library, Vol. 1
• Matt Wagner, Mage: The Hero Discovered (2 Vols.)
• Andi Watson, The Complete Geisha
• Gilbert Hernandez, The Adventures of Venus
• Batman: The Jiro Kuwata Batmanga, Vol. 3
• Kelly Sue DeConnick and others, Captain Marvel: Earth's Mightiest Hero, Vol. 2
• The Hernandez Brothers, Love and Rockets: New Stories, No. 6
• Brian Wood and Ryan Kelly, The New York Four
• Jason McNamara and Paige Braddock, The Martian Confederacy, Vol. 2: From Mars With Love
• Gilbert Hernandez, Julio's Day
• Alan Moore, J.H. Williams II, and Mick Grey, Promethea, Book 1
• Noelle Stevenson, Shannon Watters, Kat Leyh, Brooke Allen, and Carolyn Nowak, Lumberjanes, Vol. 5: Band Together
• Gilbert Hernandez, The Children of Palomar
• Grant Morrison, Richard Case, and others, Doom Patrol (3 and/or 6 vols.)
• Brennan Lee Mulligan and Molly Ostertag, Strong Female Protagonist, Book Two
• The Hernandez Brothers, Love and Rockets: New Stories, No. 7
• Matt Wagner, Mage: The Hero Defined
• Matt Kindt, 3 Story: The Secret History of the Giant Man
• Zander Cannon, Kaijumax, Season 3: King of the Monstas
• Jamie S. Rich and Nicolas Hitori De, Spell Checkers (2 Vols.)
• Mike Mignola, John Arcudi, and James Harren, B.P.R.D.: Hell on Earth, Vols. 11-13
• The Hernandez Brothers, Love and Rockets: New Stories, No. 8
• Evan Dorkin, Dork
• Keith Giffen, J.M. DeMatteis, Kevin Maguire, and Al Gordon, Justice League International, Vol. 1
• Larry Marder, Beanworld Omnibus, Vol. 1
• Matt Wagner and various artists, Grendel Omnibus (4 Vols.)
• Ryan North and Eric Henderson, The Unbeatable Squirrel Girl, Vol. 6: Who Run the World? Squirrels
• Brian K. Vaughan and various artists, The Escapists
• Jeff Parker and various artists, Batman '66, Vol. 1
• Gilbert Hernandez, Birdland
• Michael Kupperman, Tales Designed to Thrizzle, Vol. 1
• Charles Forsman, The End of the Fucking World
• Gilbert and Jaime Hernandez, Love and Rockets, Vol. 4 (6 comics issues)
• John Allison, Max Sarin, and Liz Fleming, Giant Days: Not on the Test Edition, Vol. 3
• Evan Dorkin, Sarah Dyer, and Erin Humiston, Calla Cthulhu, Vol. 1
• Chris Roberson, Francesco Biagini, and Stephen Downer, Michael Moorcock's Elric: The Balance Lost, Vol. 1
• Matt Wagner, Mage: The Hero Denied, Vol. 1 (or maybe 5)
• Brian K. Vaughan and Cliff Chiang, Paper Girls, Vol. 5
• Brian K. Vaughan and Fiona Staples, Saga, Vol. 9
• Larry Marder, Tales of the Beanworld (Vol. 3.5)
• Tim Truman, Scout and Scout: War Shaman (4 Vols., more or less)
• Eddie Campbell, Bacchus (2 Vols.)
• Kaoru Mori, Emma (5 Vols.)

The second category of comics includes things that were mostly reprinted from periodical comic books. Most of this stuff reprints series (ongoing or mini-) in an obvious way, but there are a few oddballs like the Best American Comics series, which I put here to put them somewhere. But, generally, things in this category appeared as a publication under the same overall name as the eventual collection. Since the American comics market is what it is, and I was reading a lot of comics this year, it's the largest category -- almost half of all books.

In 2014, this was 19.5%, with 71 books.

Comics: Originals in Book Form (66, 15.2%)

• Rick Geary, The Lindbergh Child and The Saga of the Bloody Benders
• Michel Choquette, editor, The Someday Funnies
• Rick Geary, The Secret Room at the White House
• Peter Bagge, Fire!!
• Mawil, Home and Away
• James Vance and Dan E. Burr, On the Ropes
• Mimi Pond, The Customer Is Always Wrong
• Sarah Glidden, Rolling Blackouts
• Mike Mignola and Warwick Johnson-Cadwell, Mr. Higgins Comes Home
• Colleen Frakes, Prison Island
• Catel and Veronique Grisseaux, Bluesy Lucy
• Svetlana Chmakova, Brave
• Jeff Lemire, Roughneck
• Tillie Walden, Spinning
• Ananth Hirsh and Yuko Ota, Lucky Penny
• Carla Jablonski and Leland Purvis, Defiance and Victory
• Fanny Britt and Isabelle Arsenault, Louis Undercover
• Thu Bui, The Best We Could Do
• Pascal Girard, Nicolas
• Eleanor Davis, You & A Bike & A Road
• Bill Corbett and Len Peralta, Super-Powered Revenge Christmas
• Cassandra Jean, Reindeer Boy
• Alan Moore and Kevin O'Neill, Nemo: Heart of Ice, Nemo: The Roses of Berlin, and Nemo: River of Ghosts
• Jeff Lemire, Essex County
• Nina Bunjevac, Fatherland
• Nick Bertozzi, Lewis & Clark
• Lynda Barry, Syllabus
• Kyle Baker, King David
• Joe Ollmann, The Abominable Mr. Seabrook
• Roz Chast, Going Into Town
• Brahm Revel, Guerillas, Vols. 1 and 2
• H.P. Lovecraft and I.N.J. Culbard, The Dream-Quest of Unknown Kadath
• Alan Moore and Kevin O'Neill, The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen: Century
• Jane Yolen and Rebecca Guay, The Last Dragon
• Larry Gonick and Art Huffman, The Cartoon Guide to Physics
• Kristen Radtke, Imagine Wanting Only This
• Hope Larson, All Summer Long
• Eleanor Davis, Why Art?
• Tony Cliff, Delilah Dirk and the King's Shilling
• Gabby Schulz, Sick
• Benjamin Frisch, The Fun Family
• Pamela Ribon and Cat Farris, My Boyfriend Is a Bear
• Nate Powell, Come Again
• Ted Rall, Real Americans Admit: "The Worst Thing I've Ever Done!"
• Jim Ottaviani, The Imitation Game
• Rick Geary, Chester & Grace: The Adirondack Murder
• Ryan North and Erica Henderson, The Unbeatable Squirrel Girl Beats Up the Marvel Universe
• Michael Kupperman, All the Answers
• Nick Drnaso, Sabrina
• Kyle Baker, I Die at Midnight
• Pratap Chatterjee and Khalil, Verax
• Anonymous, editor, Outrageous Tales from the Old Testament
• Jen Wang, The Prince and the Dressmaker
• Michael Moorcock and Howard V. Chaykin, The Swords of Heaven, The Flowers of Hell
• Kyle Baker, You Are Here
• Jim Ottaviani and various artists, Fallout
• Al Columbia, Pim and Francie: "The Golden Bear Days"
• Joyce Farmer, Special Exits
• C. Tyler, You'll Never Know (Vols. 2 and 3)
• Jim Woodring, Poochytown

This category should be pretty self-explanatory: comics, by people working in the English language, that first appeared as a book, without any previous serial publication.

In 2014, this was 29%, with 106 books.

Comics: Translated from Japanese (and other Asian languages) (17, 3.9%)

• Inio Asano, A Girl on the Shore 
• Kaori Ozaki, The Gods Lie
• Makoto Shinkai and Yukiko Seike, 5 Centimenters per Second
• Nico Tanigawa, No Matter How I Look at It, It's You Guys' Fault I'm Not Popular!, Volumes 8 and 9
• Katsu Aki, Manga Sutra, Vol. 2
• Satoko Kiyuduki, Shoulder-a-Coffin Kuro, Vol. 4 and 5
• Naoki Urasawa with Takashi Nagasaki, Pluto, Vol. 1 and 2
• Kim Dong Hwa, The Color of Water and The Color of Heaven
• Masamune Shirow, The Ghost in the Shell
• Nagata Kabi, My Lesbian Experience With Loneliness
• Taiyo Matsumoto, Sunny, Vols. 5 and 6
• Masamune Shirow, The Ghost in the Shell 2.0: Man-Machine Interface

Comics, mostly manga, translated for an American audience.

In 2014, this was 12.9%, with 47 books. I used to read a lot more in this area, but that was mostly stuff that came in as publicity packages and that I didn't necessarily like all that much. Once the flow of free product stopped, there were only a few things from that flood I wanted to keep up with on my own.

Comics: Translated from French (and other European languages) (42, 9.7%)

• Velhmann and Kerascoet, Satania
• Cyril Pedrosa, Equinoxes
• Michel Rabagliati, Paul Has a Summer Job
• Santiago Garcia and David Rubin, Beowulf
• Brigitte Findakly and Lewis Trondheim, Poppies of Iraq
• Frederik Peeters, Aama, Vol. 3: The Dust of Mirrors
• Pierre Christin and Jean-Claude Mezieres, Valerian: The Complete Collection, Vol. 1
• Herge, The Adventures of Tintin, Vol. 1
• Marcel Beyer and Ulli Lust, Voices in the Dark
• Mawil, We Can Still Be Friends
• Joann Sfar, Lewis Trondheim, and Christophe Blain, Dungeon: The Early Years, Vol. 1: The Night Shirt
• Joann Sfar, Lewis Trondheim, and Christophe Blain, Dungeon: The Early Years, Vol. 2: Innocence Lost
• Lewis Trondheim and Joann Sfar, Dungeon: Zenith, Vol. 1: Duck Heart
• Lewis Trondheim and Joann Sfar, Dungeon: Zenith, Vol. 2: The Barbarian Princess
• Joann Sfar, Lewis Trondheim, and Boulet, Dungeon: Zenith, Vol. 3: Back in Style
• \Joann Sfar, Lewis Trondheim, and Manu Larcenet, Dungeon: Parade, Vol. 1: A Dungeon Too Many
• Joann Sfar, Lewis Trondheim, and Manu Larcenet, Dungeon: Parade, Vol. 2: Day of the Toads
• Joann Sfar, Lewis Trondheim, Mazan and Jean-Christophe Menu, Dungeon: Monstres, Vol. 1: The Crying Giant
• Joann Sfar, Lewis Trondheim, Stephane Blancquet and Andreas, Dungeon: Monstres, Vol. 2: The Dark Lord
• Joann Sfar, Lewis Trondheim, Carlos Nine and Killoffer, Dungeon: Monstres, Vol. 3: Heartbreaker
• Joann Sfar, Lewis Trondheim, Jean-Emmanuel Vermot-Desroches and Yoann, Dungeon: Monstres, Vol. 4: Night of the Ladykiller
• Joann Sfar, Lewis Trondheim, Blutch and Bezian, Dungeon: Monstres, Vol. 5: My Son the Killer
• Joann Sfar, Lewis Trondheim, Stanislas and Keramidas, Dungeon: Monstres, Vol. 6: The Great Animator
• Joann Sfar and Lewis Trondheim, Dungeon: Twilight, Vol. 1: Dragon Cemetery
• Joann Sfar, Lewis Trondheim, and Kerascoet, Dungeon: Twilight, Vol. 2: Armageddon
• Joann Sfar, Lewis Trondheim, Kerascoet, and Obion, Dungeon: Twilight, Vol. 3: The New Centurions
• Joann Sfar, Lewis Trondheim, Alfred, and Mazan, Dungeon: Twilight, Vol. 4: The End of Dungeon
• Jason, On the Camino
• Jacques Tardi, The Extraordinary Adventures of Adele Blanc-Sec, Vol. 2
• Lewis Trondheim and Nicholas Keramidias, Mickey's Craziest Adventures
• Jacques Tardi and Leo Malet, Fog Over Tolbiac Bridge
• Jason, Why Are You Doing This?
• Guy Delisle, Hostage
• Jason, Pocket Full of Rain
• Lewis Trondheim, Mister I
• Manuele Fior, Blackbird Days
• Penelope Bagieu, Brazen
• Labiano and Dufaux, Dixie Road
• Brecht Evens, Night Animals
• Herge, The Adventures of Tintin, Vol. 2
• Herge, The Adventures of Tintin, Vol. 3
• Claudio Persanti and Lorenzo Mattotti, Stigmata

In 2014, this was 7.7%, with 28 books. This one swapped size with the translated-from-Asia category since 2014, interestingly. I think part of that is just that there's more "art comics" coming over, accessibly, from France than from Japan, and part is that I did a big re-read of the whole Dungeon series, which contributed 17 books all on its own.

Art Books (9, 2.1%)

• Chris Achilleos, Amazona
• Jonathan Barli, Vip: The Mad World of Virgil Partch
• Stephen J. Sansweet and Peter Vilmur, The Star Wars Poster Book
• Kate Ascher, The Works: Anatomy of a City
• Gretchen Edgren, The Playmate Book
• Julia Wertz, Tenements, Towers & Trash
• Bruce Marshall, Building New York
• Edward Lucie-Smith, Erotica: The Fine Art of Sex
• Brandon Graham, Royalboiler

Back in my SFBC days, this was a huge staple of my book-a-day runs, and often the trigger for them: when I had too many art books stacked up, it was time to run through them comprehensively. But I think there are fewer books like that being published at all, in this Internet age, and I haven't had a way to get them free for a decade now.

In 2014, this was 2.2%, with 8 books.

Books for Children of Various Ages (12, 2.8%)

• Lorena Alvarez, Nightlights
• Ben Costa and James Parks, Rickety Stitch and the Gelatinous Goo: The Middle-Route Run
• Chad Sell and various writers, The Cardboard Kingdom
• Mark Siegel, Alexis Siegel, Xanthe Bouma, Matt Rockefeller, and Boya Sun, 5 Worlds, Book 2: The Cobalt Prince
• Joan Aiken, The Wolves of Willoughby Chase
• George O'Connor, Hermes: Tales of the Trickster
• Hope Larson and Rebecca Mock, Knife's Edge
• Jaime Hernandez, The Dragon Slayer
• Molly Knox Ostertag, The Witch Boy
• Kristen Gudsnuk, Making Friends
• Svetlana Chmakova, Crush
• Pam Smy, Thornhill

This is one of my fuzziest categories, since nearly everything here could be counted as something else -- a novel, an original GN, or whatever. But this is where I put things that are very specifically for younger readers, and not just accessible to younger readers. I try to put "YA" books -- which regularly bleed into adult readership -- in the general categories, and books aimed at middle-grade or younger readers here. But I don't promise absolute consistency.

In 2014, this was 1.6%, with 6 books.

Poetry (1, 0.2%)

• Philip Larkin, Collected Poems

I read a book of poetry this year! And I have a bookmark in another one, so I may actually finish a similar book next year. I used to read more poetry, ten to fifteen years back -- the book I had going in the bathroom was generally poetry, until some particularly horrible British historical survey anthology knocked me out of the habit.

I have not read any poetry, as far as I can tell, in any prior book-a-day run.

Playscripts (1, 0.2%)

• Tom Stoppard, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead

I did read one playscript in 2014, for 0.3% of the total. So that number holds absolutely steady.

That's what I read in 2018. I should come back in about two weeks and add in the last links, once all of the posts have gone live. If you're reading this later than January 16, 2019, you can judge whether I did that or not.

If you've read this far, let me leave you with one last thought. There's probably some similarly crazy project in the back of your head -- maybe for your work, maybe gardening, maybe exercise- or diet-related, maybe housecleaning, maybe running for Congress!

Do it. Do it this year. Start in on it as soon as you can. Jump onto your crazy hard-work ideas and make them real. There's nothing like finishing up something you really wanted to do and looking back on it. I want all of you to have that feeling. So do it. Start the planning today.


[1] With one tiny asterisk: the post for the book I finished today isn't quite done yet. I wrote the post for book #380 today (which I read yesterday) and started #381, but it's not final. So, tomorrow morning I will finalize and set to post the very last Book-A-Day 2018 post.