Lots of comics are coming out tomorrow, but I keep getting distracted by thoughts of all the books at the Barnes & Noble that just opened in town. It seems like tons of authors I really love have new books out at the moment, so it could get really ugly.

Add to that the fact that we’re about to go on vacation and will be spending most of our time without a television, so I’ve almost convinced myself that I need to overspend on fiction. It’s a sensible precaution, I tell myself, like bringing extra water on a hike or stocking up on sun block. Prose levels could drop without warning. I should be ready.

But how can I pick? There’s a new Amelia Peabody installment from Elizabeth Peters. Alexander McCall Smith returns with another chapter in the life of Botswana’s only lady private detective, Precious Ramotswe. It doesn’t sound like vacation reading, but maybe I’ll be in the mood for something by Ian McEwan? I knew having another shiny, soulless bookstore in town would be dangerous, and the timing couldn’t be worse.

The only sensible thing to do is distract myself further with some linkblogging.

Dr. Scott at Polite Dissent makes me very happy by singing the praises of Addams Family Values, one of my favorite comedies. It’s packed with great dialogue, but here’s one of my favorite exchanges, from a scene where Wednesday is forced to participate in lifesaving training at summer camp with her sunny, blond arch-nemesis:

It’s made even better by the fact that Amanda is played by Mercedes McNab.

Immelda Alty resumes blogging at Love Manga only to increase my eager anticipation for Bambi and her Pink Gun. I don’t know why I’m so intrigued by this title, but Immelda certainly isn’t helping any.

I don’t really care one way or the other about DC’s new logo, but I do love the images Heidi posted at The Beat. And, thanks to the comments on that entry, the phrase “nipple ring composition” is now etched on my brain. This could be a very lucrative bit of niche marketing for DC Direct.

There’s a new Flipped up at Comic World News. Like James Schee did before me, I review the two new Del Rey titles. Gump also takes a quick look at them at his blog, Keromaru.

Speaking of Nodame Cantabile, it’s one of the finalists for the Grand Prize in the 2005 Tezuka Awards. The list of nominees is posted at Anime News Network.

When I’m Old and Other Stories (Alternative Comics) is a collection of very accomplished mini-comics by Gabrielle Bell. Bell has tremendous versatility as a storyteller, using a wide variety of tones, insightfully creating a wide range of characters, and modulating her distinct visual style to suit very different scenarios.

“When I’m Old” is a marvelous look at the odd glamour of dissipation. Bell gazes into the future and finds her cartoonist stand-in living on the street, hawking home-made drugs and scratchy portraits of naïve passers-by, and badgering strangers about art even as she delivers grotesquely blunt come-ons. It’s a bitterly funny and concise character study, and Bell overlays it with a cheerful narration that’s a perfect contrast to what’s happening in the panels.

Bell shows a different kind of comic flair in the creepy and very funny “Just One Reason.” It follows protagonist Kate through a bout of existential despair and a series of failed suicide attempts and ends with a grimly satisfying reversal. Bell’s visuals for the story have a sweet fairy-tale feel to them, and her script walks just the right line between lighthearted and horrifying.

In “Just One Reason Part II,” Bell picks up Kate’s story again, and she’s living with the fallout of events in the first chapter. Kate’s become something of a magnet for life’s frustrations and oddities. The despair goes from abstract to very concrete, and Bell builds the tension in Kate’s life very effectively. Kate’s world becomes a very menacing place, both because of her deteriorating mental state and because of actual, everyday threats.

Bell offers two very different adaptations in the collection. She takes a playful approach to her telling of Herman Hesse’s “The Fairy-Tale about the Wicker Chair.” Her light touch and inventive visuals beautifully support Hesse’s work while putting Bell’s own stamp onto the portrait of an artist as a young narcissist.

She takes a more direct approach to her adaptation of D.H. Lawrence’s “The Virgin and the Gipsy,” and it’s very effective. Many of the most striking moments in Bell’s work take place in a character’s head or on their faces, so it’s nice to see her demonstrate her skill at turning a straightforward sequence of events into moving illustrations.

I’m always a little reluctant to review auto-biographical work, because it seems strange to tell a creator that they didn’t tell their own story very well. That isn’t a worry with Bell, at least in the samples on display here. In these pieces, she tends to put herself at a disadvantage, whether she’s knocked back one too many or is lost in the unsettling, vaguely paranoid fog of jet let. My favorite is probably “Gabriella Picker-Packer in the Garden,” where she chats up a stranger about the therapeutic value of hypnosis. It’s a wonderfully illustrative bit of conversation.

This collection is packed with such a range of material. There are pointedly funny one-page pieces, longer-form urban fairy tales, dreams, and playful, detailed extrapolations on simple ideas. The unifying element is that Bell’s facility with language is every bit as strong as her visuals. As with all of my favorite cartoonists, Bell’s words and pictures work beautifully in concert.

The cumulative effect of When I’m Old and Other Stories is incredibly impressive, showing an ambitious, evolving cartoonist exploring the range of her abilities and the possibilities of her chosen medium.

Who knew that taking the human-phobic cat to the vet for her check-up would be the highlight of the day?

Like a good little nerd, I got to the comic shop right when it opened for Free Comic Book Day. I was all ready to rip a copy of the Owly freebie out of the hands of a sobbing child if I had to. This wasn’t an issue, because the shop didn’t order any. They didn’t get any copies of the Comics Festival book, either. The shop owner did make sure I knew where to find copies of the Sharknife give-away. I probably deserved that.

On the bright side, I liked the Flight sampler a lot, always enjoy Amelia Rules, and was pleasantly surprised by the appearance of the Shojo Beat preview.

There was a little schadenfreude in seeing the stacks and stacks of Chuck Austen-written comics that the shop had slipped into the FCBD display. The staff always puts some other titles out along with the FCBD comics, mostly stuff they can only give away, and if anyone is looking for a missing issue from “The Draco” arc of Uncanny X-Men, let me know. Actually, don’t.

Bitter and disappointed, I forced myself to buy some comfort manga (Miason Ikkoku and Iron Wok Jan).

In the afternoon, we went to see Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. We sure loved that opening song.

Y’know, I don’t even remember having that clear of an idea of what I thought a movie version should be like. I haven’t read the books since I was in college, and it isn’t like I’ve been waiting for them to make it to the silver screen. But whatever I was expecting, that wasn’t really it. Maybe it was just my mood, but I thought it was shrill and kind of stupid. And I really despised Zaphod and Trillian. I did love Alan Rickman as the voice of the robot. And I’m still singing that song. And it did motivate me to read the books again.

But now I’m going to go make myself a grilled cheese sandwich and try and trick the cat into speaking to me again. Because really, her day was worse than mine.

Sure, Previews is useful for those of us whose shops aren’t able to order a little bit of everything. But sometimes, it goes beyond service as a valuable consumer tool to become something much, much stranger. Take the May 2005 edition.

There’s the solicitation text from Rica ‘tte Kanji!? from ALC Publishing. Rica is an example of the yuri (girl love) genre of manga, and ALC lists one of its features as “a refreshing lack of self-hatred and doubt.” Sold! No, really. I’ve been looking for a yuri title to try. But that blurb does make me wonder if the rest of ALC’s line is filled with portraits of shame and pain. Probably not. And now I’ve got “Jonny and Betty” stuck in my head.

On page 248, a happy tour through the fresh-scrubbed world of Riverdale High. On page 249, Satan’s 3-Ring Circus of Hell! Run, Archie gang, run!

In the Fantagraphics listings, Previews takes a firm hand with the copy for The Comics Journal 269 (the shojo issue). The contrast between what editor Dirk Deppey wrote and what Previews printed is quite striking, so why not pop over here and compare the two for yourself? You can also gaze in wonder at the near-final cover design, which is soooooo pretty.

A high-school comedy featuring super-intelligent monkeys? Why yes, Oni, I will be purchasing Banana Sunday.

I have to hand it to Kazurou Inoue, creator of Midori Days (Viz). In a stunning bit of manga-ka inventiveness, Inoue has come up with a plot where it’s absolutely essential for the boy to have his hand up the girl’s skirt. Well played.

And on page 373, I find perhaps the best review blurb ever: “Tozzer and the Invisible Lap Dancers is Harry Potter done right.” I wish I had better needlepoint skills, because I absolutely must have that on a sampler or a pillow.

I love comics by Gail Simone and Dan Slott. In my opinion, they’re two of the best writers working in mainstream super-hero comics. Any Wednesday where I get comics from both of them is a good day.

Slott has the second issue of GLA, a parody of recent Marvel mega-events. I had expected to like it very much. From Simone, there’s Villains United, part of the run-up to DC’s next mega-event. I picked it up because Simone’s writing, but my expectations weren’t terribly high.

Turns out my reactions were reversed from my expectations. GLA has left me a bit cold, and Villains United looks very promising.

I think part of the problem with GLA is that the stories it parodies are so stupid to begin with. When the target (primarily “Avengers: Disassembled”) is laughable on its own merits, I think it must be difficult to find ways to effectively mock it. In the two issues that have come out so far, Slott has come uncomfortably close to doing precisely the kind of story he’s satirizing. The self-awareness the characters display about the story’s depressing mechanics doesn’t really differentiate it enough from its source material.

Part of the problem might be what normally is one of Slott’s biggest strengths. He routinely makes oddball, marginal characters extremely likable and engaging. It’s no different here, as in the case of throw-away Spider-Man/Iron Man fusion Grasshopper. While I’d never argue for the viability or value of the Great Lakes Avengers, it’s strange to see Slott make them appealing, sympathetic sad-sacks just before they meet a variety of grisly, humiliating fates.

GLA 2 isn’t without its charms. There’s plenty of good throw-away stuff. I love Monkey Joe’s running commentary (and wish Marvel would hire him as an editor, if such a thing was possible). Bits of the recruitment drive, particularly a rather tart look at the customary reaction of loner characters, are smart and funny. But overall, the book is kind of a bummer for me in many of the same ways as the stories that are meant to be bummers.

This seems to be the summer when Gail Simone tests my loyalty. I’m thrilled that she’s getting high-profile gigs like Action, but she’s being assigned with artists I’ll timidly call “polarizing.” Then, there’s Villains United, part of DC’s Infinite Crisis prep. I’d hoped to ignore the pre-Crisis hoo-ha entirely, but I can’t seem to pass up a comic with Simone’s name on it.

I’m glad I didn’t skip this, because Villains United turned out to be a lot of fun. It reminded me a lot of John Ostrander’s Suicide Squad, with a largely unsavory cast put in an impossible situation and managing to emerge oddly sympathetic. It’s also got plenty of Simone’s trademark character-based humor and smart, clear plotting.

In the fallout of recent events, high-profile villains are strong-arming lesser criminals into a sort of collective called the Society. They’re playing on the fear that heroes are routinely dishing out psychic lobotomies and offer a measure of protection. (They also threaten hold-outs with death, so they aren’t quite the Villain Civil Liberties Union.)

Simone focuses on a small group of hold-outs, six super-villains who decline the Society’s rather menacing offer. Maybe it’s just my personal tastes as a reader (I really dislike DC’s current direction), but seeing a group of characters refuse to play along by the prevailing rules is really rewarding. Their bid for independence and subversion has instant rooting value for me.

Most of the character work is excellent. Simone has been talking enthusiastically about her re-imagining of Catman, and it wasn’t just hype. She’s made him both more menacing and more layered, which almost never happens these days. I’ve always liked Simone’s take on vicious, utterly selfish Cheshire, too, and I’m glad to see the poisonous character take a leading role here.

Villains United isn’t perfect. I still don’t have a clear idea on who Scandal is or what she does, and I wonder if my recognition of some of the other characters might not be shared by a more casual reader. And the benefits of signing on with the Society (aside from not being horribly killed) are still vague, but that could be part of the point.

Overall, though, it’s a solid beginning to what promises to be an interesting mini-series. Simone has a solid cast in place and has made strong steps towards generating interpersonal chemistry. She also has fresh and interesting ideas, and I’m looking forward to seeing how they play out.

So, that’s one unexpected misfire (GLA) balanced by one pleasant surprise (Villains United). And really, even with minor stumbles, I’ll still always try anything by these two talented writers. Super-hero comics are much better for their participation.

Maybe it’s the fact that Free Comic Book Day is Saturday, but this week’s shipping list has me in a fog of mixed emotions.

I’m happy to see another issue of Fallen Angel, but I’m sad that it’s the last DC will publish.

I’m happy to see another title written by Gail Simone (Villains United), but it means I’ll have to buy one of those Countdown/Crisis tie-ins.

I’m happy that Marvel has released Essential Defenders Vol. 1, but I have all the issues it collects, so I don’t need to buy it.

It’s not all ambivalence, though. I’m looking forward to Del Rey’s Nodame Cantabile, particularly after reading James Schee’s positive review. (I can’t remember if I pre-ordered it or not. I think I did, but that was a long time ago.) And the second issue of Seven Soldiers Shining Knight is due, so I get to gaze at more pretty, pretty art from Simone Bianchi.

Speaking of Free Comic Book Day, Johanna has some reviews up at Cognitive Dissonance. Oh, Owly. I love you so.

Shortly after posting a review of a Highwater Books title, I found Tom Spurgeon’s piece on the publisher’s decision to shut down its web site. Unfortunate as the turn of events is, it’s nice to hear that Matt Madden (Odds Off) and Jessica Abel are collaborating on a textbook on graphic novels. Another fine piece of comics reportage from Spurgeon.

And there’s another fine piece on comics reportage from Ed at The Low Road. Ed looks at the state of the interview, and he raises some excellent points. I think a lot of them extend beyond on-line comics creator interviews, too. The state of all kinds of celebrity journalism seems so shaky at the moment, driven as much by publicists and hype cycles as anything specifically interesting about the subject, that just about every medium could use a Terry Gross. (And I know “celebrity” is probably a bad choice of words, but it’s all-encompassing enough to suit my purposes.)

When I’m reading a comic and it makes me laugh out loud, my partner almost always asks me if it’s Sgt. Frog. Call it the Keroro Effect. The latest book to trigger this has been Even a Monkey Can Draw Manga by Koji Aihara and Kentaro Takekuma (Viz). It’s cynical and vulgar and sick and wrong and hilarious and perfect. It’s even bizarrely instructive. There are titles on the shelves that seem like they’ve followed this manual religiously.

Wheedle and you shall receive: Lea Hernandez is publishing her 24-Hour work as a mini-comic. Details are here. Try and resist the tulip illustration. I dare you.

Did the world really need a rambling mash note to Kindaichi Case Files? Probably not, but it did make Michael May crave fried chicken.

I wish I could link directly to the full text of “What Lies Behind the Global Success of Manga?” from the Journal of Japanese Trade and Industry, but I found it through Lexis-Nexis. A shorter version can be found here. It tracks manga’s market evolution via a lengthy interview with Stuart Levy, founder of Tokyopop.

Comics are so suited to telling absurd, outsized adventures that I sometimes forget how effectively they can convey quieter, more human stories. Matt Madden’s Odds Off or, L’Amour Foutu (Highwater Books) is an excellent example of the latter category.

Odds Off is a lot like an independent film with an ensemble cast. Madden tracks the intersecting lives of a group of twenty-somethings as they live, work, and study in and around a university. They wrestle believably with ambition, culture, and relationships, comparing what they have with what they think they want. They have problems, but their struggles are all on a very relatable scale.

Take Shirin. She’s becoming increasingly unhappy as she prepares for medical school aptitude tests. Work is an exercise in everyday stupidity, whether its malicious gossip, inflexible authority, or unsolicited outbursts of conservative philosophy from co-workers. It’s actually driven her to take up smoking for the first time in her life, since the habit allows her to get away from her desk at regular intervals.

She’s got a boyfriend, Morgan, who’s cute, good-natured, and emotionally unavailable. He’s not a bad guy, and he loves Shirin, but it’s becoming obvious that he isn’t equipped to provide the kind of support she needs. And he’s becoming obsessed with what he perceives to be the simmering sexual tension in a French-language instructional program on television.

Then there’s Lance. He’s a gifted writing student, but he’s got a frustrating lack of social skills. He’s also been diagnosed with a bizarre (and possibly imaginary) ailment that prevents him from writing or reading while he’s taking his prescribed medication. Lance doesn’t know Shirin or Morgan, but he’s developed a painfully acute at-first-sight crush on Morgan.

Connecting Shirin and Lance is Chad, a cute, emotionally stable hipster. He’s friends with both and provides valuable service as an observant, clear-eyed sounding board. (He can also be relied on to sneak wine into dry campus celebrations.) Beyond being the thread that brings the parallel stories together, Chad’s a gregarious gossip. He’s an engaging vehicle for expository information delivered in an organic way.

Madden takes these people and their respective states of mind and articulates them in gentle, organic ways. He doesn’t underline anything, and he relies on the reader’s intelligence and empathy to identify the ways his cast connects and drifts apart. It’s an interesting kind of narrative minimalism that never seems sparse. Madden picks just the right moments in his characters’ lives to create a cohesive, affecting story.

While Odds Off can be very funny, it’s never uproarious. It’s comedy of recognition. There are plenty of moving moments, but you never hear the strings swell up. There’s a real sense of scale. That makes it sound muted, but that isn’t the case at all. Madden finds the richness and variety in his story while keeping total control of proportion and tone.

Madden’s illustrations are very much of a piece with his writing. His character designs are varied, but his cast looks like people you’d see on the street. He sticks with small panels that help punctuate the conversational nature of his script and keep things flowing. Relatively simple line work is used to fine emotional effect, too, and Odds Off isn’t without the occasional, unexpected moment of visual fancy. He folds in surprising bits of fantasy or brief, potent dream sequences without allowing them to become overwhelming. They’re nice grace notes that actually underline the emotional realism.

Odds Off is a terrific slice-of-life story, populated by challenging but ultimately sympathetic characters. Madden’s approach is low-key, but his work doesn’t lose any of its emotional impact as a result. It’s a real find.

(To see samples of Matt Madden’s work, visit his web site here.)

There’s nothing like a healthy dose of misanthropy to give a comic some kick. Lackluster World 1 (Gen: Eric Publishing) has just the right amount, mixed with mordant humor, lovely illustrations, and smart satire.

Fahrenheit Monahan, Lackluster World’s albino protagonist, works as a newspaper reporter and occasional op-ed writer, and he’d like very much to be left alone. He finds contemporary society painfully banal, and he tries to limit his place in it to that of caustic observer. Unfortunately, the people around him have other plans.

First, there’s his arrested frat-boy co-worker, Cog, who gives Fahrenheit nicknames like “Casper” and tries to drag him on drunken excursions with a pack of his beer-soaked kind. Worse are Fahrenheit’s siblings, older brother Kelvin and younger sister Celsius. Kelvin has a kind of glassy-eyed religious fervor, and he’s determined to introduce his brother to the wonders of faith. Celsius is relentlessly cheerful and enthusiastic; she doesn’t seem to care so much about Fahrenheit’s soul, but she wants him to have fun. Fahrenheit’s only reliable companion is his black cat, the somewhat aloof Mr. Mittens.

Fahrenheit’s frustrations come to a head on his birthday, when the various people determined to engage him converge. In a hilarious sequence, Kelvin and Celsius insist on celebrating their brother’s special day at an establishment called Smiley’s Play Place. Cog and his liquored-up posse stumble across the party, bringing their own vulgar fervor to the mix. A clown is present.

It’s all too much for Fahrenheit, and he takes steps to shake society out of its torpor (or maybe just unsettle it into shutting up for a spell). While it’s often difficult to sell a protagonist who’s fed up with the tediousness of it all, writer/illustrator Eric Adams makes it easy to see things from Fahrenheit’s point of view. He does this by leavening his lead character’s outrage with enough situational absurdity to fend off any sourness. Fahrenheit’s internal monologues could easily become overwritten or shrill, but Adams takes a restrained, character-based approach. The barbs are specific, and Fahrenheit’s perspective has a nice internal consistency and logic.

His work as an illustrator is equally impressive. Lackluster World has the appearance of a grim children’s book, which is just right for this material. Adams finds great variety in Fahrenheit’s persistent scowl and in the fixed grins of Kelvin and Celsius. His sense of composition is strong, too, and panel layouts are imaginative and varied. I’m not quite sure how he managed it, but Adams has also managed to make a black-and-white comic look like it employs a full palette of colors.

We all have moments when the people around us are just too much to stand and the world is exhausting. Lackluster World explores the comic possibilities of those moments as a sustained world view. It’s a very appealing and accomplished piece of satire.

(For more information on the title and to view sample pages, visit the Lackluster World web site here.)