Long Weekend Reading Part 2: Princeless

September 9, 2015 |

After finishing up Lumberjanes this weekend (and being very sad I didn’t have more to read immediately), I started on Princeless by Jeremy Whitley and M. Goodwin. This comic ticks so many of my boxes: fairy tale re-telling, a smart girl who can fight, a little big of magic, plenty of snark.

The protagonist of Princeless is Adrienne, a princess whose parents (the king and queen) have imprisoned her in a tower guarded by a dragon. It’s a tradition in their kingdom; the idea is that only the bravest, best (male) warrior will be able to defeat the dragon and rescue the princess, thereby earning the right to be the next king (women and girls cannot rule in their own right, of course). Adrienne learns of this tradition in a very Disney-fied way when she’s a little girl, and there’s some awesome snark where she just rails against this terrible story, begging her mother not to lock her up like that. But of course, that’s how it goes for her. At least at first.

Adrienne doesn’t put up with it for long. She’s formed a bond with her dragon, who has eaten many would-be dragon-slayers over the months (years?) she’s been in the tower. And when Adrienne decides enough is enough, the dragon – Sparky – helps her stage her own death so she can go rescue her sisters, who are similarly locked up in towers.

I love how Princeless plays with fairy tale tropes, mocking them in a loving sort of way. There’s one awesome scene where Adrienne decides to stop by a shop to get some armor that fits her (she had previously cobbled a set together from the dead knights’ leftovers). The female armor offered has names like the Diana, and it’s as impractical as the name would suggest. Of course, Adrienne is able to convince the smith (another girl who becomes her friend and adventures with her) that armor for women and girls doesn’t have to differ that much from armor for men and boys. It’s a perfect scene, great for the comic’s intended age group of middle grade readers.

One of the most important aspects of Princeless is that Adrienne is black. It’s really, really rare to find a black princess in a fairy tale story, particularly one so uber-white as Rapunzel. Whitley and Goodwin call attention to this, too, in an early part of the story, when one of Adrienne’s would-be rescuers refers to her as “fair,” as many fairy-tale knights do in other tales. “Be you a moron?” she says to him. “Do you know what fair means? You’re so anxious to take a wife! Why don’t you take a book first?”

I was reminded strongly of Shannon Hale and Dean Hale’s Rapunzel’s Revenge while reading this, as both focus on a re-telling of Rapunzel where the princess uses her own ingenuity to rescue herself. They’re natural readalikes for each other, though they’re not quite the same in tone, and the story post-escape plays out much differently. There’s also a strong Dealing With Dragons feel to it. I’m not sure how much today’s kids are still reading that series, but the relationship between Adrienne and Sparky is similar to that between Cimorene and her dragon. I have a feeling Cimorene and Adrienne would be great friends.

The art is great, perfectly friendly for a middle grade audience with character expressions full of personality. I’ve only read the first volume, which collects issues 1-4, but there’s a second one out that collects 5-8, plus a handful of other stories. Highly recommended.

Long weekend reading part 1: Lumberjanes

September 8, 2015 |

Long weekends are for reading comics about girls who go on adventures. Or at least, that’s how my Labor Day weekend shaped up. First up was Lumberjanes, which I’d actually tried to purchase from two different comic book stores on two separate occasions and failed both times, as they had run out. Luckily, my library has all of the digital singles.

I’m a little late to the party on the Lumberjanes love, but if you’re like me and haven’t read it yet, here’s the gist: a group of five girls (they all seem to be around 12) are rooming in the same cabin at a camp similar to a Girl Scout camp. It’s a camp for “hard-core lady-types,” aka the Lumberjanes. They get caught up in a series of adventures involving a woman who turns into a bear, foxes who disappear, a secret underground cave, and lots of other fun magic. They also do the normal camp stuff like play capture the flag and make friendship bracelets.

The premise on its own sounds fun (and it is), but what makes this comic special is the humor, most of which is derived from the really great friendships between the girls. This is the first comic I’ve read where it feels like making the reader laugh is one of the main goals, not just a secondary one. And it succeeds really well – I was chuckling aloud to myself the entire time. This is actually a swear-free comic, so the girls say things like “What the junk!” and “What the Phillis Wheatley were you thinking?” instead. They earn badges like “naval gauging” and “everything under the sum” (a math-related badge). And the girls are awesome friends. One of their catchphrases is “Friendship to the max!” which serves as a sort of battle cry as they head into their next adventure. Their friendship is important to each other and it’s clear they care deeply for each other. I feel like they could be the pre-teen versions of the Rat Queens in some ways. And each girl is distinct in personality as well as look (including skin tone).

As a girl who went to Girl Scout summer camp a few times growing up, I appreciate the clever ways Noelle Stevenson, Grace Ellis, and Brooke Allen work with the tropes of such a camp. I can say that I probably would have had a much better time if we fought raptors and solved anagrams in underground caves guarded by animated statues, but then it probably also would have been shut down pretty quickly. (One of the main points of humor in the story is the girls’ hapless counselor who can’t keep her wayward campers from getting into scrapes or make the boss lady understand there are really weird things going on). There’s an overarching storyline – what exactly is going on at the camp? – which provides the impetus to keep reading, but really, I’d read it even if each issue were a totally different story. This is definitely a winner (literally, too, since it’s won two Eisners). One of those Eisners was for best publication for teens, but I’d say this is totally appropriate for and appealing to middle grade readers as well. Highly recommended.

Prison Island by Colleen Frakes

September 1, 2015 |

One of my favorite kinds of nonfiction is the graphic memoir. Absorbing the author’s art alongside the text gives me insight into the author’s experiences that I wouldn’t have gotten otherwise. I get to see how they picture themselves and the world around them, and how they interpret their own experiences in a visual way. I’m not a hugely visual person, but I really like this format – it’s great for the nonfiction reluctant reader in me.

In Prison Island, Colleen Frakes writes about her experience growing up on McNeil Island, located off the coast of Washington state. It was the United States’ last prison island, accessible only by sea or air. Her memoir is told in two different times: one during her family’s time there when she was a middle schooler, and the other when they all return as adults to say goodbye to the island as it is officially shut down. The scenes from the past, therefore, become reflections, musings on her unusual childhood, and the tone is best suited for adults or older teens (though there’s nothing objectionable about it for a middle school audience).

The premise was really interesting to me, not the least because I lived and worked for four years in a prison town in Texas (though I could drive in and out whenever I pleased). There were a lot of similarities. The adults who lived on the island were all employed by the prison; in my case, the prisons were the biggest employer and the main driver of the economy. You also just got used to having prisoners around, as did Frakes and her family. They didn’t always stay in the prison – and I don’t mean escapes (though Frakes does relate one story about an escape). One of my favorite stories to tell people about living in Huntsville was that the city got trustee prisoners to help us move boxes into a new wing of the public library. Each of us had a couple of prisoners we supervised, and the city got cheap (or free, as far as I know) labor. This concept was new to me and it’s new to almost everyone I share it with who isn’t acquainted with the prison system. As the name indicates, these trustee prisoners were the more trustworthy of the inmates – but they were also the ones who had the easiest time escaping if they tried.

Of course, the fact that Frakes lived on a prison island made her situation much different from mine in important ways. Just the fact that it was an island made it a tricky thing to get certain supplies we take for granted on the mainland – like a fresh pizza. Everyone on McNeil Island was associated with the prison in some way, and it was pretty sparsely populated as a result. The kids had to go off-island for school. There would be a telephone call made to everyone when it was suspected a prisoner was escaping or a riot occurring, and everyone was forced to stay inside, which happened frequently (false alarms, many of them). Such things never happened while I was in Huntsville (and as far as I know, there isn’t a system in place for warning anyone anyway, aside from the news).

I wish a bit more time had been spent on the past than on the reminiscing from the present. Frakes and her family take a tour of the island, hitting all spots they remember, and these aren’t the most riveting sections. Overall, the memoir feels a bit slight. Perhaps I was imprinting some of my own expectations onto the book – that it would be a little weirder, or a little more exciting (though I’m sure to Frakes it was weird enough). Still, it’s an interesting look into a pretty unique childhood, and it’s definitely worth a read for fans of graphic memoirs. The orange cover is a nice touch, too – though in Huntsville, all the prisoners wore white.

Finished copy provided by the publisher. Prison Island is available today.

Recent Non-Fiction Reads

August 27, 2015 |

One of the benefits of slowing down my reading this summer has been wandering through a list I’ve kept of books I thought sounded interesting but that I hadn’t yet picked up. Most of the titles on this list are non-fiction and most of them are adult non-fiction. It’s a category of books I’ve always loved, but I don’t gravitate toward them as much as I once did.

Over the last few months, though, I’ve found myself seeking them out pretty voraciously. It’s not just in the act of slowing down, but it’s also because I’ve been working really hard to readjust some of the flow and focus of my life. I’ve really become invested in trying new things and pushing my thinking and creative limits in new ways. This has manifested in taking some risks and completing projects I’ve thought about but never found the [fill in the blank excuse] to do. This summer, I relearned how to cross stitch and picked up needle felting. I signed myself up for a class on pursuing your dreams for the fall, and I am really ready to dive right in to trying my hand at art journaling. I did a massive house cleaning that required renting a dumpster for hauling away the things I no longer needed, wanted, or had room for in my life.

Choosing to pursue the things that are interesting me at the moment means that I am finally picking up those books on the list. They tend to fall under the category of interesting reads on specific topics. I’d call them microhistories, but it’s not quite the correct term, nor does it encompass the books outside of this particular category I’ve been reading.

Here’s a look at some recent non-fiction I’ve read. Each of these ticked a box for me in some way, and I’m really eager to keep pushing through my list and reading more books that are outside of my comfort/quick pick zone. Having decided to finally try my hand at reading on my phone and using the free trial at Oyster (note: that’s not an affiliate link!), I made a big old list of books that have caught my attention and I’d like to dedicate some time to.

The Monopolists by Mary Pilon

How much do you know about the history of Monopoly? This was a fast-paced read that totally took everything I thought I knew about the classic game and turned it on its head. And, perhaps most interesting and/or infuriating about this, was the history of the game was one of removing the female creator.

In 1904, Lizzie Magie created a game that would become the model for Monopoly. Yet, her side of the story was never told when the Parker Brothers began producing it during the Great Depression. Anyone who has purchased the game — at least, I think it’s still the case in modern editions — knows the “story” behind the game comes in the box. But it’s incomplete, and Pilon’s book offers up the underbelly of greed and scandal.

At times, the legal elements of the book weigh down the narrative, but one of the things that works so well for me when it comes to non-fiction is that these parts are easy to breeze through without feeling like I’m missing out. This book lent itself perfectly to that. The parts that really fascinated me I could linger over and the less-interesting elements I could pass by without feeling like I wasn’t getting something from the read.

An easy, readable book that fans of board games, social history, and the overlooked contributions of women to business should pick up.

The Great Beanie Baby Bubble by Zac Bissonnette

Readers of a certain age probably remember the huge beanie baby phenomenon of the late 90s/early 2000s. This book takes a deep dive into the craze, including what caused it and what eventually made the bubble pop. It’s particularly fascinating for anyone who grew up in the Chicago area; I hadn’t realized that all of this sort of originated in my own backyard. It made a lot of the “craze” that surrounded the trend make more sense to me now, as an adult. I have memories of my mom taking me to O’Hare airport — back in the days before security! — so we could hit up the beanie baby store that was inside.

What made this book so compelling was just how rigid and gross Ty Warner was as a leader of his company. Bissonnette isn’t particularly sympathetic, but the way Ty is rendered — and his ego — is well done and eye-opening. “Limited” and “retired” beanie babies were little more than tools used to raise profits for the company, which anyone who understands basic business understands, but what made this fascinating was how those who collected these, hoping to make a profit, were the ones ultimately put out the most, as their toys didn’t do what they thought they would do. The insight into how Ty worked with McDonald’s for the Happy Meal beanies was a particularly interesting element of the book.

Remember old and new face teddies and how having an “old face” bear meant you had something valuable? The reason the bear’s face changed was 100% because of cuteness. Ty’s focus was on creating the cutest toys possible at a price point that virtually anyone could buy into, though his choice in the stores the toys were available in was very purposeful. You couldn’t get them at large retailers, but rather, at specialty stores only.

This was easily one of the better non-fiction titles I’ve read, and I would recommend it to anyone curious about the behind-the-scenes of a huge phenomenon.

Twelve by Twelve: A One-Room Cabin Off The Grid and Beyond The American Dream by William Powers

I’m fascinated and appalled by the tiny house trend. I hate-watch House Hunters: Tiny Homes pretty passionately. It took me a long time to sort of put my finger on what it was that really annoyed me about the trend and the people who are living this way, and it comes down to this: the same people who are being “eco-conscious” and “budget conscious” in purchasing tiny homes are the same people who would quickly ridicule the people who live in trailer homes because they have no other options. It’s exceptionally privileged, especially as many tiny housers end up getting free land from family to park their custom-built shacks.

Enter Powers and his radical plan to live in a 12×12 tiny house outside of Durham, North Carolina. When I started to read this one, I hesitated a bit, worried that it would be about how enlightened he became to this new way of life and how phenomenally important it was to do things this way in order to be a good human. But this book is not that at all. Instead, Powers talks about the very things this lifestyle affords people who are privileged, and he has enough self-awareness to pick apart the choices he’s made in his own life to see how much of a White Man With Privilege legacy he’s left. The insights are smart and thought provoking, and they don’t shy away from talking about race and racism, including what he witnesses on the property where the tiny home is parked. It isn’t his home, either — it’s one he’s borrowing while a local well known doctor who owns the place is off gridding out west.

What really resonated with me, and the biggest take away from this book, was how Powers talks about what purpose we as people should have on Earth and how it is we should figure out our calling. He does this through noting that the tiny house life and choosing to “do less” isn’t the answer. It can be a means to an answer and it can be a distraction to those who think it’s an answer. Rather, everyone has to have periods where they focus and think through their lives and what it is they can do to improve the world. His own moment of enlightenment wasn’t about how he traveled to other countries and “helped the poor” — in fact, he says he regrets some of the White Savioring that he took part in during those trips — but rather, about how he can enter into the world, respecting the world, and offering himself wholly to it as it is. For him, it’s about doing one nice, selfless thing per day for someone else. It’s simple, but it’s powerful.

I loved Powers’s tone and how he navigates himself through complex social and sociopolitical/economic issues. I’m eager to pick up another book of his because I feel like a lot of how he approaches life offers up much for me to chew on. And that’s what he gets at, too: no one can tell you the answers to your life’s mission and no one can tell you the answers. It’s your responsibility to think about it for yourself, listening to others who have forged their paths and taking/leaving from that what does/doesn’t/won’t/can’t work for you. The answer to his life wasn’t in the tiny house.

All three books are available now and were borrowed from either the library or via Oyster.

Graphic Novel Roundup

August 26, 2015 |

FBP: Federal Bureau of Physics vol. 2: Wish You Were Here by Simon Oliver and Robbi Rodriguez

A staff person at the comic book store sold me the first volume of FBP as a good comic for fans of the tv show Fringe, which was a really effective sales technique as well as being true. When I found myself at the comic book store again itching to buy something, volume 2 was a natural pick. Alas, it had been some time since I had read volume 1, and I felt a little lost as I made my way through this one. I vaguely remembered the characters and hoped I’d pick up a greater understanding of the plot as I moved along (sometimes you just have to trust the storytellers). It mostly worked, though I’d still recommend reading this one pretty closely upon a read (or re-read) of volume 1. It involves the two agents of the FBP visiting Nakeet, Alaska for a special experiment where they’re plugged into a machine to allow their minds to create a reality; it’s not meant to bleed into the real reality, but of course, it does in certain ways. A little confusing, but intriguing.

Fables vol. 22: Farewell by Bill Willingham and Mark Buckingham

Late Fables is nothing compared to early Fables, unfortunately. I think the series really ran out of steam near the end, but this final installment is still worth a read. I’m not a fan of the final story arc between Snow White and Rose Red, which was fabricated out of nothing and undid years of deliberate character development. That arc is resolved here in spectacularly anticlimactic fashion. Other threads, too, are wrapped up very quickly. Half the volume is finishing out the main storyline and the other half consists of epilogues telling the final stories of certain characters. I rather enjoyed these (particularly the ones featuring Snow White’s and Bigby’s kids), but I’m a sucker for extended epilogues (I wouldn’t have minded if Return of the King had gone on another half an hour). And while I didn’t care for the last story between Snow White and Rose Red, I was really moved by their epilogue, which takes places thousands of years later. Not a triumphant conclusion, but not a bad one either.

Exquisite Corpse by Penelope Bagieu

Zoe is a “booth babe” with a loser for a boyfriend and no direction in life. One day while on a break at work, she’s sitting outside and notices a man standing out a window in his apartment building. She decides to ask to use his restroom, and he obliges – and they strike up a romance. It turns out he’s quite a famous novelist. Because Zoe never reads novels, she hasn’t even heard of him, which makes it easy for her to remain oblivious to a big secret he’s hiding. He’s quite a bit older than her, eccentric, egotistical. There’s definitely a flavor of a Woody Allen film to the story – until the end, which throws everything for a major loop. I was feeling pretty lukewarm to the story until I got to that point. Then I had to sit there for a long time and really consider whether I like the way it ended or not. And I ultimately decided I did. You’ll have to read to find out, but it doesn’t end like an Allen film, which I think is really the point (I avoid anything he does like the plague now). Bagieu is a French comic and I look forward to seeing what else of hers gets brought to the US.

Rat Queens vol. 2: The Far Reaching Tentacles of N’Rygoth by Kurtis J. Wiebe, Roc Upchurch and Stjepan Sejic

I was in the comic book store wanting to buy Lumberjanes, Nimona, or the second Rat Queens, and all that was available was Rat Queens. One out of three isn’t bad (for my wallet in particular), especially when Rat Queens is as awesome as it is. The second volume collects issues 6-10, and the new illustrator (Stjepan Sejic) begins with issue 9. I really dig Upchurch’s art, but I like Sejic’s just as much (and he’s not an abuser, so extra good human points to him). His lines are a little cleaner, but each character is just as easily recognized, full of sass and personality. I could describe the plot to you, but the characters are really the draw here. We get a little backstory on them, seeing a vulnerable side to each – but no worries, there’s also plenty of bloodshed, foul language, sex, and even some full-frontal male nudity. While a good bit of the story revolves around Dee and a secret person from her past, she still remains the most unknowable to me. Wiebe really seems to love Hannah, and while this is an ensemble story, it’s easy to see how she may be the series’ overarching protagonist. And I mean, she is pretty awesome. Highly recommended.

Strangely for me, all of these graphic novels were published for the adult market. All were personal copies except for Exquisite Corpse, which was provided by the publisher.