I first read Kindred in a college class about dreams and time travel, and Octavia Butler's searing story of blood, family, morality, and racism never left me. I knew any adaptation wouldn't be able to capture the painful magic of the original, but Damian Duffy and John Jennings's graphic novel comes pretty damn close. The linework, the coloring, and the pacing breathe new feeling and even sharper edges into an already dark tale. I read it in one sitting before and man, the nightmares after. A thoroughly chilling work.

The Prince and the Dressmaker has been well-celebrated in the online book community, and, after finally reading it myself, I can see why. Jen Wang's adorable comic is a feast for the eyes and a balm to the heart.

Frances is a seamstress who dreams of becoming Paris's top fashion designer. Prince Sebastian is a royal with a secret: they like drag and going out at night as Lady Crystallia. The two forge a contract that Frances will keep Sebastian's secret and design her dream clothes for them, and Lady Crystallia will go out, network, and make Frances famous. At first the deal goes brilliantly, but as Lady Crystallia's fame grows and the Prince's parents put pressure on them to marry, everything begins to unravel.

Honestly, what is not well done in this book. The characters, the art, the mood, the plot, the themes: all in sparkling form. Sebastian and Frances feel like real friends, and the tension between their friendship and their goals is palpable. I read the comic before bed and I knew I was going to have sweet dreams. Reading The Prince and the Dressmaker is a heartwarming act of self-care.

What can I say about They Called Us Enemy that hasn't already been said? From the art to the telling, it is a feeling masterwork: a dark reminder of our past, a timely read for our present, and a hope for our future. Read this comic.

I am a simple woman. I see a comic about how women rule the world and I read it.

In the not-too-distant future, a scientist discovers a genetic defect in the human genome that's causing all those with a male gender identity to die young. In addition, the genetic quirk increases the chances of new humans to have a feminine/female gender identity. In a process reminiscent of how world leaders/corporations treat climate change, everyone ignores the problems until it's too late. Within generations, men are wiped out. Women are left to rebuild a society devastated by global warming, natural disasters, and zero men.

Despite the grim premise, the comic is surprisingly humorous and hopeful. The round, pastel art, the newspaper funny comic format, and the casual diversity of the cast make for a light-hearted read of a soft apocalypse. The characters muse over big questions (is feminism a reality now; will men come back; how does healthcare and reproduction work; how do we connect & relate to each other; what norms do we keep, what gets lost) and smaller ones (how to deal with anxiety, I'm in love with a married woman HELP, awkwardness about female bodies and scars). For those worried, a main cast member is a trans woman, and it's explained that having a vagina is not necessary to being a woman. I was left wondering about nonbinary folk's fate, but that might be addressed in a comic not included in the collection.

Though the comic succeeded in being feminist and funny, a niggling feeling made me forgo the fifth star. I wanted more answers to the big questions and, while we're assured of everyone's positive fate at the end, I wanted the comic to be longer and show us more of that journey. For example, two characters express their loneliness and sit on a specific log when their feelings are especially bad. Over the course of the comic, the characters finally acknowledge they must deal with the loneliness. In the end sequence, they burn the log. It's supposed to signify that they've overcome their problem, but the moment didn't feel earned to me. Acknowledging the problem is only the first step. What do they do to combat loneliness?

In any case, Woman World is a quick and entertaining comic collection of a soft feminist apocalypse. If any of that sounds fun to you, definitely pick Dhaliwal's work up.

A quick, colorful read! Likely Stories adapts some of Gaiman's short fiction into comics. While the art was wonderful and the stories successful (gotta love those signature Gaiman reversals), the utter focus on the male experience was a little off-putting. The various protagonists were punished for their objectification of women, but I found myself longing for a female protagonist that took control of her own story. Other that that, a solid collection of fantastical and horrifying stories with great art to boot.

I wasn't planning on reading Laura Dean Keeps Breaking Up with Me. But then I was in the bookstore. And it was there. So I sat down in a comfy chair and somehow an hour passed and the pages ran out.

The blurb hits the nail on the head with this one. Freddy's journey of love asks the reader to "consider what happens when we ditch the toxic relationships we crave to embrace the healthy ones we need." There are very few stories out there about lesbian characters breaking up with each other, and even fewer where the toxic love interest isn't instantly replaced by a healthier romantic relationship. Laura Dean Keeps Breaking Up with Me is a very important book to have for the young queer teens out there. Breakups aren't the only heavy topic, and I admired how Mariko's discussed

abortion, adultery/cheating, teen sex, coming out, and underage drinking

with great respect and dignity towards her characters. The artwork's soft, round lines and pink colors are beautiful and reflect the warmth of the story's world.

With the importance of this book, I wish I could give it the full five stars. However, the ending disappointed. While Freddy did improve and grow over the story, I felt like she wasn't done growing by the story's end. It's a definite "happy for now" vibe, with perils and pitfalls just around the corner. I almost wonder if Tamaki is planning a sequel.

I love Angela. She's one of my favorite characters in the Marvel universe, and she and Sera are one of my favorite couples. Most of that is thanks to the excellent writers who attend her, so when I saw Marguerite Bennett wasn't writing this comic, I was wary. I went into Asgardians of the Galaxy, Vol 1: The Infinity Armada with low expectations, and, I'm sad to say, the story didn't even meet those.

This by-the-numbers space opera is so apparent in how it's just ticking boxes that I was bored to tears. I have read this story before in a hundred other Marvel comics, and Cullen has nothing fresh to say. The outlandish plot, costumes, and poses; the outright character assassination of Nebula, Angela, Loki, and Valkyrie; the humdrum, standard art: I expect that from 1950s comics, but we are better storytellers now. Cullen managed to clear the hurtle of acknowledging Valkyrie and Angela's queerness, at least, but not before Thunderstrike got some homophobic microaggressions in.

Another reviewer mentioned that this comic reminds them of what is wrong with Marvel Comics today, and I agree. Marvel owns such interesting characters, with such great potential, but wastes them on pointless plots that mean nothing and have little impact. They don't uplift readers, provide comfort, or inspire them to be better people, or you know, anything a hero is supposed to do.

Now THIS is a f*cking comic! The online comic community has sung Saladin Ahmed's praises for a long while, but this is my first time reading his work. Abbott seemed like a great read to end Pride Month on, and the comic more than delivered.

Elena Abbott is a bisexual black journalist in 1970s Detroit, and her investigative articles report on police brutality and other crimes against the black community that the white press would rather ignore. Big societal and governmental systems that STILL support white supremacy and oppress people of color get a thorough discussion here. Her Malkavian hippy vampire sorcerer friend calls her the "Bringer of Light," and Elena certainly sheds light on the heady mix of racism, misogyny, and homophobia queer black women experience. The breathtaking art and coloring really come to the fore in the fantastical elements of the story, as Elena starts investigating some suspicious eldritch happenings.

As a reader I felt enriched and entertained. A fantastic, brilliant story (and hopefully series??) that I recommend to all adult comic fans.

My partner and I picked up and read this whole comic while shopping at Target! It's that itty bitty.

The book consists of short, one-page comics about a T-Rex trying to do an everyday task, but failing. The T-Rex is foiled by being huge, having tiny arms, a large nose, or by another inconvenient body part. At first it was funny, but then the "lol short arms" joke repeated enough to be annoying, and finally the ending of the book made me feel sad.

Maybe I'm taking this small humor book too seriously, but it reminded me of disabled struggles and how the myth of modern life has simply not been built to accommodate disabled folks. Like the dinosaurs, disabled people sometimes force themselves to perform tasks the same way non-disabled people do, in a quest to be "normal," even when there are different ways to perform the tasks that will aggravate less.

Since perhaps I'm reading too much into a short comic about dinosaurs, I'm still awarding T-Rex Trying and Trying three stars. This is a book for odd, idle moments and is sure to elicit at least one giggle.