As one of the authors, I'm biased towards this book from the start. However, this was also the first time I was able to read the other contributors' works.

And I am deeply honored.

From the beginning with Tash McAdam's ring fighter to Helle Reiersen's Daughter of the Night, every story knocked me right out my usual headspace into a new, starry universe of (blood-drenched) possibility. My heart ached and sang and tore. I reveled in each character's triumph. Each author brought their big guns to the page, wow-ing me at every plot twist and delighting me with their complex, diverse characters. Is it too late for me to learn knife-throwing? I want to learn knife-throwing after this book, since fairy portal closing and battle mage-fighting are a bit beyond me.

So in summary: I laughed, I cried, I want to learn a new skill, and I can't believe my little running werewolf snuck into this phantasmic anthology, among all these fantastic, brilliant, & splendid authors. Thank you for writing and keeping on writing when the going got tough. Thank you to Nica and Amelia, to all the Kickstarter backers, and to everyone who made this anthology possible. Keep fighting and keep writing.

I've been meaning to read Knit One, Girl Two since it came out.... Oops. Better late than never!

Shira Glassman's novella follows Clara Ziegler, a part time yarn dyer and full time fan of Captain Werewolf. While searching for yarn color ideas for next year's sock club, she bumps into Danielle Solomon's paintings and it's love at first sight. The love only grows when she meets Danielle, and the two hit if off and support one another through life's ups and downs.

Do you ever read a book and feel so SEEN by it? That's me and this book. I'm typing this review while wearing a new scarf my partner made me. I'm taking breaks to watch a queer vampire/werewolf show. My life and the characters' lives are so similar that I felt all the more for them and their struggles. I've been in the places they are. In addition to relatable and well-drawn characters, the visuals and pacing of the novel are superb. Unlike with other short fiction, I didn't feel it had been cut too short. Knit One, Girl Two is a bite-size novella of adorable, like wrapping oneself in a fluffy blanket after a hot bath. Check it out if you want need some sweetness for your romantic soul.

Following Amara Lynn on Twitter, I knew Into the Deep was coming for awhile before it was released. I enjoyed all the cute snippets and rushed to get my copy when it finally came out. This is my third Amara Lynn fiction, and I enjoyed how different it was from the Masks novellas and short story. The cute was dialed up to 11!

In the Golden Age of Piracy, Lamark is the son of a successful pirate captain and set to inherit his father's ship. That would be great except (1) Lamark is the worst pirate ever and (2) upon the captain's death, the crew mutinies and dumps Lamark on a dingy. As he floats about, waiting to starve, he encounters a trapped merman, and, in thanks for saving him, the merman leads Lamark to an enchanted, deserted island. The merman calls himself Yuvie and...well, this is a romance novella. You can figure out the rest.

This novella's adorableness is out of this world. Is it trope-y and the plot predictable? Yes. Is that exactly what I wanted reading this work? Also yes. I went in looking for a good ol' gay nautical time and I got it. Lamark and Yuvie are instantly lovable characters and it was a joy to witness them fall in love. Lamark's clumsiness did seem a little exaggerated at points, but it didn't distract too much from reading. The pacing was also on point, hitting beats like nobody's business. At its best, Into the Deep is a simple, tender love story between a pirate and merman, with a happy ending.

In fact, I think Into the Deep is at its weakest towards the ending, where it deviates from the predictable path. About 85% of the way through the novella, new characters, complications, and twists come out of the woodwork seemingly at random. I'd almost says they're deux ex machinas, but they rather raise more questions than provide answers. Maybe some of it is preparing for a sequel? Though I wasn't overly concerned about nautical accuracy, there's a big glaring one that's never addressed. I made a lot of "wtf really?" faces.

Overall though, Into the Deep is a cute gay pirate-merman novella. I definitely recommend it to Tall Ships era romance fans who want to treat themselves to some fluff.

First Year Out: A Transition Story was an impulse borrow from the library. I haven't read or heard of Sabrina Symington before, and after reading, I'm interested in investigating her other work. Her patient, empathetic style and feeling illustrations made for an engrossing read.

A blend of Symington's personal experience and other trans women's, First Year Out tells Lily's transition story, yes, but it is clearly designed to educate cis people and trans folk looking for more information on transition. Newly out, Lily wants a body that has been traditionally seen as female. This process demands a complete overhaul of her physical self and her social relationships. Like any other coming out, it's a long, ongoing process. Her relationship to her parents, her friendships, and her dating life change drastically. Her father refuses to speak with Lily and refers to her by her deadname. Her mom starts with outrage, confusion, and a brief foray into TERF ideology, before finally accepting her daughter. Her cis friends slip up a few times, but overall remain staunch allies. The local trans community and support group have their own stories and offer history and perspective. First Year Out is ultimately a tale of triumph. Though the journey is ongoing, Lily's growing happiness is wonderful to witness.

While I've read other transition stories, I think the greatest thing First Year Out impressed upon me is how many aspects are involved in transitioning. From laser hair removal appointments, wig shopping, and voice lessons to avoiding chasers, fighting job discrimination, and coming out to even casual partners, it is a lot. I knew in my head all these things happened individually, but to see them all at once was...wow. And Lily's neurotypical, middle-class, and white!

Some of the interactions felt pre-determined or canned, but I chalked that up to the educational part of the comic. Symington clearly wanted to provide a guide on how to respond to transphobes, or dismantle the reader's prejudice. It's effective.

Overall, I recommend First Year Out to anyone looking to learn more about transition. That is the author's intent, and she fulfills her goal well. The comic is educational, first and foremost.

I've been interested in Chelsea Cain and her work ever since the misogynists at Marvel Corp fired her for Mockingbird's "Ask Me About My Feminist Agenda" t-shirt. I followed that controversy, and the following controversy over Man-Eaters with both sympathy and critique. When I saw a lonely copy of Man-Eaters at my local library, I knew it was time to dive in.

Man-Eaters is an alternate world where a formerly harmless virus found in cat poo has transformed. When people with a uterus are infected with this virus, they turn into feral, murder-happy panthers during their period. The time of blood-letting has turned into a time for blood sport. The world goes a little crazy about it. The United States government launches a massive campaign to stop periods, including spiking water supplies with suppressants, organizing teams of "S.C.A.T." police officers to capture/detain the panthers, and disturbing a metric ton of propaganda. Young girls, boys, and those who are neither are swept up in this toxic gender paranoia...and a few of them are starting to fight back.

This CBR article provides a good summary of the public critique of Man-Eaters. Cain forgot about trans and nonbinary people, and the comic's narrative centers around the cisgender woman experience. Man-Eaters is a satire reminiscent of those found in the '60s, '70s, and '80s, where trans issues were a Rocky Horror Picture Show-shaped blip on the mainstream feminist scene. That, and Cain's response was not the most mature: she inserted her detractors' tweets into following comic issues, without permission. Cain's oversight and response are very unfortunate, because the art and writing of Man-Eaters is otherwise very good.

The puns, the meta-articles, the art, the plot: they all hit the nail on the head with patriarchy's obsession and demonization of female-identified bodies. All bodies grow hair during puberty, but only feminine bodies are told that hair is unclean and they need to shave it off. That's a real world thing. The universe of Man-Eaters plays this patriarchal reality further. Corporations pop up to help people combat the threat of their daughters. Water "for boys" is advertised as "estrogen-free" because even its normal hormonal presence must be evil!!! Safe, gender-exclusive spaces are implemented in public schools in the name of protecting boys from predatory girls. The boy ones are large, comfortable, and filled with exclusive "boy" activities such as video games, comics, and action movies. Safe-spaces for girls are small, bare after-thoughts, and they only have books and crafting materials. Puberty textbooks are quick to assure people with a penis that their puberty process is natural and great. The other type of puberty is dangerous, gross, and all their fault.

There is a lot of solid, good feminist points in this comic. Like all of us, Cain is still learning and expanding her feminism. I hope her future works are more trans-inclusive and intersectional.

Jane was an impulse borrow from the library. My partner and I are big fans of Jane Eyre so we were excited to see a modern AU comic adaptation. While the story had some hiccups, Ramón Pérez's flawless art more than made up for it, granting the comic a sense of graceful panache.

The broad strokes of the comic plot are recognizable. After her parents' death, Jane is sent to live with an abusive aunt and cousins. Determined to one day escape her hell, Jane endures tortuous school and grueling work until she saves enough to go to art school in NYC. To keep her scholarship, she must take a job and who is hiring but one Mr. Rochester, who is in need of a nanny for his daughter Adele. The mysteries of Rochester's strange home and life loom over Jane as she finds a sense of belonging and family for the first time. Until one night the secrets come out and everything comes crashing down.

The comic focuses on the Thornfield arc of Jane Eyre, with the Rivers family or an explicit Lowood school arc nowhere to be seen. Even with this intense focus on the bit where Jane & Rochester fall in love, the comic struggled to show their romance. The framing of the narrative suggested that Jane and Rochester were experiencing sweeping emotions, but their actual chemistry fizzled. I couldn't figure out what was appealing about Rochester besides (a)he's a man, (b)he won't tell people things, and (c)he possesses a jawline. Otherwise, he's a sort of absent-minded scowl to the side the action, leaning against panel walls or disappearing out of them altogether.

The real, heartfelt meat of the story was between Adele and Jane. Their mother-daughter relationship leapt off the page, quietly centering the comic on one former lonely kiddo helping another lonely child. Jane's empathy for Adele's loneliness leads to the stuff of nostalgic childhood montages, such as park picnics, museum walks, and cooking adventures. As time passes, Adele opens up, and Jane thrives. They both heal from their respective traumas. The happy art subtly suggests that it is not dating Rochester that brings this healing, but being a good mother to Adele. Even at the climax, when Jane comes to the rescue, it isn't Rochester's text that sends her running, but Adele's plea for help.

Even if it's inadvertent, the comic's focus on Jane & Adele is a new one for me. I found it refreshing. As other reviewers have noted, Jane doesn't feel like an adaptation of Jane Eyre. Major themes and plot points are missing. Jane's comic counterpart is conventionally pretty. The third floor twist is bizarre. Yet I enjoyed the experience nonetheless. I recommend Jane to Bronte fans who want a modern AU variation on canon. Those seeking a strict adaptation need not pick up.

I know we're all into the consequences of violence coming home to roost, but

[Cap'n Jack Sparrow voice] STOP KILLING YOUR CHARACTERS, Vaughn.