Showing posts with label Top Shelf. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Top Shelf. Show all posts
Tuesday, March 25, 2014
Comic Review: Nemo - Heart of Ice
League of Extraordinary Gentlemen is right up there at the top of my list of favorite graphic novels. It taps into all those things I love so much, the wide array of Victorian and pulp adventure fiction, from H.G. Welles, to Jules Verne, to Edgar Rice Burroughs, and beyond. And of course, one of the coolest characters was Captain Nemo, master of the Nautilus, dashing, suave, and deadly. With Nemo, we follow his daughter, haunted by his shadow and his deeds, as she tries to find her own path in life.
In 1925, Princess Janni Dakkar, the new Nemo, lives as a brigand. When she runs afoul of Aisha and Charles Foster Kane, a chase across the world begins. She blazes a trail across Antarctica and all the strange wonders it hides, from Present Land to the Mountains of Madness.
If you’ve read previous League universe books, you’ll know the drill. It’s sad, dark, full of ugly twists on classic characters. But it’s also thrilling and strange, and challenges the reader to figure out the reference. I know there were several I didn’t get. One of these days, I’m going to have to go back through the whole series with some annotations or something. I know there’s stuff I’m missing, meaning I’m not catching.
I’ve never been a huge fan of Kevin O’Neill’s art, but it gets the job done, and helps to set the whole uncomfortable vibe of Moore’s bent literature rollercoaster. Moore is one of those writers I go back and forth on. He’s written some of my favorite books, but he’s also written stuff I can’t even force my way through. He seems like a colossal jackass, and possibly more in love with himself than his rabid fans are. But he’s also good at capturing the magic of the classic fiction I love so much. Heart of ice is surprisingly upbeat; still kind of a downer, but for this series, it’s relatively positive. I could see this being a really nice companion series to the later stuff involving the League.
Nemo: Heart of Ice
Author: Alan Moore
Artist: Kevin O’Neill
Publisher: Top Shelf Productions
ISBN: 978-1-60309-274-6
-Matt
Tuesday, September 17, 2013
Baltimore Comic-Con: looking in the rearview mirror, part 2
In the first part of my retrospective on exhibiting at this year’s Baltimore Comic-con, I went on about the fan-service aspect of the show. The creators I finally got to meet, the books I got signed, the enjoyment I got from attending a “big” comic show for the first time in a number of years. And it was a great time, on that front. But how was the “professional” side of the convention?
Sales were soft, which is really downplaying how tepid our sales were. And I saw a similar thing – a cone of silence expanding in a five-foot arc around the front of an exhibitor’s table – in a lot of areas of Artists Alley. Which is not to say there weren’t some creators who did well here, especially the artists (with prints of zombies or Dr. Who, please, judging by the attendees). We had high hopes for this show, and, admittedly, it was disappointing on the sales front. It certainly seems our audience is at the Small Press Expo, which is usually held the weekend after Baltimore Comic-con just down the road in Bethesda, Maryland. That said, this was a pretty great convention for me, as an aspiring writer.
Early on the first day, Chris Staros (one of the head honchos or Top Shelf Publishing) was walking through Artists Alley. Recognizing me, he stopped to talk for a few minutes, commenting on the wealth of books we had on offer and asking specifically about the collections we had. We discussed rejection letters and publishing and how the perception and the reality of both creating and publishing are very similar. Staros is intelligent, frank, and overly generous with his time, and I’ve been having conversations like this with him since before Dan and I started writing seriously. But since then, we’ve also been sharing our work with Staros, offering copies of our new works when we go to conventions and discussing what works and what doesn’t within our growing body of work. Staros has seen us at these shows, has seen our growth as creators and is aware of our inability to give up on this “crazy dream.” By continuing to create new stories, by setting up at these shows, by having these conversations with Staros in person and through email, we’ve fostered a relationship with him that may pay dividends down the road. He knows we’re serious; he knows who we are; and I know that if I ever had a proposal I believed fit with the Top Shelf brand, Chris Staros would give it serious consideration.
That wouldn’t have happened if we’d given up after our first, disastrous time exhibiting.
Later on Saturday, another, smaller publisher (forgive me for being coy, but I am superstitious, to a point) came strolling through Artists Alley, right in front of my table. I recognized him and called him over. Turns our, he was walking this aisle because he knew I was set up in the area. We’ve gotten to know one another through common online forums, as well as through setting up at smaller conventions these past few years. I love what his new company is doing, as far as their publishing line, and he is another person with whom I’ve shared my newer stories whenever we were at the same convention. We talked comics for a bit (at least at a comic convention you don’t need to come up with a pithy ice-breaker; we’re all there for the same thing), and then he third-eyed me (that’s how the kids put it nowadays, yeah?). Looking to the future, he wondered if I’d be interested in talking with him about possibly working with his publishing company on a new venture they’re hoping to put forth toward the end of 2014 or into 2015, depending, as always, on how well the current scheduling stays on track. Hell, yeah! That conversation, right there, made my day.
This conversation and opportunity (one that doesn’t mean I will be working with them, but does mean I will have the opportunity to share my story ideas and maybe see something get published through them) was only possible because, again, I have continued to write – growing as a creator, as a result of this – and continued to get my stories drawn and fostered a relationship with this man. Never would’ve happened if we’d given up after that first time in 2005.
So, after Saturday I was feeling pretty good. Sunday only improved on that. Joe Hill was going to be signing at the IDW booth that day, and I wanted to get a chance to speak with him for a minute. When I went over to inquire about the logistics of the signing, I recognized the guy running the booth as someone who’d worked for Dark Horse when Dan and I exhibited at Chicago in 2005; he’d been the one handing out tickets for the Frank Miller signing that year. So I asked him if he had worked for Dark Horse and then we chatted for a quick bit. I mentioned that we were tabling as well and he told me to bring some of my work by to show him. Not a fool, I made sure to get copies of both my give-away books for the Joe Hill line. And after meeting Hill and speaking with him, I went back around and handed my books to the guy at the booth, who is the VP of marketing for IDW. He thanked me and asked if I had his card. No. So he handed me his business card and told me to send along some digital copies so he could share them with the editorial staff. Bam! This, coupled with the Joe Hill signing (which is a great story but not pertinent to this “professional-centric” piece), had me feeling pretty damn good for a couple of hours. Obviously, this doesn’t mean my epic graphic novel will be coming out from IDW in time for Christmas, nor does it mean I’m ever going to be published by IDW. But my work will get a look from the editorial staff.
And – I obviously cannot stress this enough – this opportunity would never have come about if I didn’t have a body of work to share with editors and publishers. If Dan and I hadn’t been working toward exhibiting at a new show every year, I wouldn’t have been trying to produce new work and new stories. I would never have gotten to the point I am now, where I am unable to not write. It took a few years, but it has become a habit, something I really can’t live without because when I got a few days without writing, I become irritable and anxious. It’s part of me, and I can see how far I’ve come since 2005, while realizing how far I still have to go. But doors are opening, just a little. And I need to be ready to take that step through. Without having exhibited, without having written or created, without having gotten stories published (a result of those previous facts in this long statement), I wouldn’t be able to create these opportunities. You have to do the work in order to improve, and you have to do the work in order to make your own luck.
Now, the question becomes where to put my focus. I know that SPX is the show where our audience is, and it’s the show where we have the most success sales-wise, and it is a show I love. But there are very few publishers there, as compared to a show like Baltimore. And with the reality that Dan and I can only do one show a year, along with where my life is at this point, being a “publisher” is not something we can pursue, and, truth be told, not something I want to pursue. I want to find a publisher willing to get my stories into readers’ hands. But do we get a table again, especially with Baltimore going to a three-day show? Or do we choose to merely go as attendees and walk around with our books to share, as we see fit? I’m not sure. At least I’ve got some time to think about it.
Meanwhile, I’ll be writing – working toward creating more opportunities for myself. It’s what I do.
-chris
(As always, you can read more from Chris at Warrior 27)
Saturday, July 7, 2012
Dork Art: LXG Century Cover
Take a look at Kevin O'Neal's cover art for the upcoming collection of The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen - Century. Looks like punk rock Mina is standing in a puddle of Oliver Haddo's Moon Child. That's no good. I really cannot stress enough how much I loved the conclusion of this third (we don't count Black Dossier as a volume, right?) entry in The League's saga. The final celestial confrontation kinda broke my mind. Sooooooo good.
--Brad
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
Comic Review: SWALLOW ME WHOLE
In preparation for SPX, which Chris and Dan will sadly not be attending this year, but which Brad and I will be checking out, Chris has this review. Check it out and check out Nate Powell at the Small Press Expo this weekend. -Matt
SWALLOW ME WHOLE by Nate Powell
Swallow Me Whole, written & drawn by Nate Powell and published by Top Shelf Comics, is a heart-rending, engaging, affecting work, fully deserving of the accolades it has received. Powell’s storytelling is quiet and serene, lulling the audience into a strange sense of comfort while subtly drawing one deeper into the narrative until becoming fully absorbed by this world between the covers.
Swallow Me Whole is the story of Ruth and Perry, step-siblings each dealing with mental illness (schizophrenia, obsessive-compulsive disorder) in their own way, while also leaning on each other for comfort and understanding. Ruth is obsessed with insects – they talk to her – and she collects specimens from her school (taking them home without permission), organizing them on her shelf in an attempt to gain some control over her life. Her perspective on the world is unique. Speaking to these insects, Ruth has a greater appreciation for their presence within the world and, when the insects’ voices become louder (often during times of personal stress), Ruth works to navigate through the world in a more cautious fashion, trying not to step on any of the myriad insects that fall across her path in the course of a day. It is overwhelming for her.
Perry, on the other hand, sees a wizard on the end of his pencil. This wizard speaks to Perry – giving him regular missions to carry out – and the only way for him to make the wizard go away is to draw for it. Perry fills sketchbooks with his art – a creativity born of his illness and a metaphor for artistic creation, as well as a literal commentary on many famous artists in human history (Van Gogh obviously comes to mind).
The children’s situation is compounded by the stress of caring for their Memaw – their grandmother whose discharge from the hospital opens the book. She lives on their couch, sleeping and taking her meals there, and the children are responsible for being with her after school while they await the arrival of their parents. Through this interaction, we learn that the feelings that Perry and Ruth are experiencing can be traced directly back to Memaw. She confides in Ruth that she too once heard the voices, but assures her granddaughter things will get better. And we discover that, to cope, Memaw “painted like a woman possessed.”
In the course of the story, we watch Ruth and Perry grow up, as they make their way through high school. Each sees a doctor about their problems – manifesting as behavioral issues in the eyes of their parents and teachers – but only Ruth is properly diagnosed, while Perry is told he is suffering from stress and that things will work out. It is ironic and painful to watch after traveling with these two through much of their adolescence. They have suffered enough, through travails familiar to anyone reading this book, and it is unfair for those common stresses to be compounded by the quiet struggle they both contend with.
Ruth and Perry persevere, but as they grow older they start to drift apart – each finding solace in their respective sweethearts. For most of their young lives each provided support to the other, offering distinct understanding of the problems each faces. As they move apart, readers witness how one is able to silence, for a time, those voices, while the other step-sibling discovers that leaving the voices behind is not what they desire. And, in the end, the choices made by Ruth and Perry – if they can truly be called choices – propel these two toward the climax of the book.
Powell is an incredibly talented storyteller. He deftly weaves this tale through a number of years, subtly moving from one period to the next without disrupting the narrative flow of the book. The pacing is wonderful, moving along naturally as it enfolds the audience within its narrative, welcoming readers into this world he has created – a world just outside one’s door. And Powell is not afraid to allow the imagery to push the story along, offering a number of silent scenes that are made more effective by the lack of dialogue.
Speaking of Powell’s artwork – it is beautiful to look at, and it meshes perfectly with the story. His brushwork evokes just the right emotion through its composition and draftsmanship, and like the comic work of Scott Morse (though in a completely different manner), Powell’s art affords readers a certain level of comfort that draws them into the narrative. And, once invested in the characters, readers are unable to turn away, even when things become disquieting. And this – a feat that is terribly difficult to achieve – is what elevates Swallow Me Whole beyond most of what can be found on the shelves.
Swallow Me Whole is one of those books you will not put down once you start reading – I know I didn’t want to stop, even though I had to work the morning I started it. Powell injects very real emotion, very honest emotion, into Swallow Me Whole in lieu of the bombast and hyperbole found in far too much fiction – comic or otherwise. And when I reached the end of the story, I could feel the heartache welling up inside me for Ruth and Perry. This book truly moved me, and that is something I cannot say about most books I read.
-chris
To read more of Chris’s thoughts or to check out his short prose and comic work, go to www.warrior27.com, the online home for the comics/prose anthology, Warrior27, created by Chris and by Dan Fleming – with contributions from Matthew J. Constantine (half of In the Mouth of Dorkness), among others.
SWALLOW ME WHOLE by Nate Powell
Swallow Me Whole, written & drawn by Nate Powell and published by Top Shelf Comics, is a heart-rending, engaging, affecting work, fully deserving of the accolades it has received. Powell’s storytelling is quiet and serene, lulling the audience into a strange sense of comfort while subtly drawing one deeper into the narrative until becoming fully absorbed by this world between the covers.
Swallow Me Whole is the story of Ruth and Perry, step-siblings each dealing with mental illness (schizophrenia, obsessive-compulsive disorder) in their own way, while also leaning on each other for comfort and understanding. Ruth is obsessed with insects – they talk to her – and she collects specimens from her school (taking them home without permission), organizing them on her shelf in an attempt to gain some control over her life. Her perspective on the world is unique. Speaking to these insects, Ruth has a greater appreciation for their presence within the world and, when the insects’ voices become louder (often during times of personal stress), Ruth works to navigate through the world in a more cautious fashion, trying not to step on any of the myriad insects that fall across her path in the course of a day. It is overwhelming for her.
Perry, on the other hand, sees a wizard on the end of his pencil. This wizard speaks to Perry – giving him regular missions to carry out – and the only way for him to make the wizard go away is to draw for it. Perry fills sketchbooks with his art – a creativity born of his illness and a metaphor for artistic creation, as well as a literal commentary on many famous artists in human history (Van Gogh obviously comes to mind).
The children’s situation is compounded by the stress of caring for their Memaw – their grandmother whose discharge from the hospital opens the book. She lives on their couch, sleeping and taking her meals there, and the children are responsible for being with her after school while they await the arrival of their parents. Through this interaction, we learn that the feelings that Perry and Ruth are experiencing can be traced directly back to Memaw. She confides in Ruth that she too once heard the voices, but assures her granddaughter things will get better. And we discover that, to cope, Memaw “painted like a woman possessed.”
In the course of the story, we watch Ruth and Perry grow up, as they make their way through high school. Each sees a doctor about their problems – manifesting as behavioral issues in the eyes of their parents and teachers – but only Ruth is properly diagnosed, while Perry is told he is suffering from stress and that things will work out. It is ironic and painful to watch after traveling with these two through much of their adolescence. They have suffered enough, through travails familiar to anyone reading this book, and it is unfair for those common stresses to be compounded by the quiet struggle they both contend with.
Ruth and Perry persevere, but as they grow older they start to drift apart – each finding solace in their respective sweethearts. For most of their young lives each provided support to the other, offering distinct understanding of the problems each faces. As they move apart, readers witness how one is able to silence, for a time, those voices, while the other step-sibling discovers that leaving the voices behind is not what they desire. And, in the end, the choices made by Ruth and Perry – if they can truly be called choices – propel these two toward the climax of the book.
Powell is an incredibly talented storyteller. He deftly weaves this tale through a number of years, subtly moving from one period to the next without disrupting the narrative flow of the book. The pacing is wonderful, moving along naturally as it enfolds the audience within its narrative, welcoming readers into this world he has created – a world just outside one’s door. And Powell is not afraid to allow the imagery to push the story along, offering a number of silent scenes that are made more effective by the lack of dialogue.
Speaking of Powell’s artwork – it is beautiful to look at, and it meshes perfectly with the story. His brushwork evokes just the right emotion through its composition and draftsmanship, and like the comic work of Scott Morse (though in a completely different manner), Powell’s art affords readers a certain level of comfort that draws them into the narrative. And, once invested in the characters, readers are unable to turn away, even when things become disquieting. And this – a feat that is terribly difficult to achieve – is what elevates Swallow Me Whole beyond most of what can be found on the shelves.
Swallow Me Whole is one of those books you will not put down once you start reading – I know I didn’t want to stop, even though I had to work the morning I started it. Powell injects very real emotion, very honest emotion, into Swallow Me Whole in lieu of the bombast and hyperbole found in far too much fiction – comic or otherwise. And when I reached the end of the story, I could feel the heartache welling up inside me for Ruth and Perry. This book truly moved me, and that is something I cannot say about most books I read.
-chris
To read more of Chris’s thoughts or to check out his short prose and comic work, go to www.warrior27.com, the online home for the comics/prose anthology, Warrior27, created by Chris and by Dan Fleming – with contributions from Matthew J. Constantine (half of In the Mouth of Dorkness), among others.
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