(Some of my) FAVORITE COMICS OF 2015

They say that timing is everything, and in this age of nanosecond attention spans and constantly refreshing newsfeeds that's more true than ever. So it's with great delight that I present here a brief and certainly incomplete list of Some of My Favorite Comics of 2015.

Every year more and more cool comics are released in droves, and every year I have less time to read them. But I buy them, and they stack up in boxes and overflowing shelves waiting for that moment when I can retire from the daily grind and sit down and read all those DeForge books. And mark my words, friends -- That day shall come.

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Extra Good Stuff by Dennis Eichhorn and Various (Last Gasp) More from the genius storyteller Dennis P. Eichhorn, released shortly before his death. Extra Good Stuff (like 2014's Real Good Stuff) teams Eichhorn up with some of the hottest, brightest cartoonists going today (Noah Van Sciver, Max Clotfelter, Tom Van Deusen, Aaron Lange) as well as old time favorites like Mary Fleener and Triangle Slash. A blast from the past blowing open the doors of today! Or something. Excellent.

The Complete Hairy Who Publications edited by Dan Nadel (Matthew Marks Gallery) It's hard to wrap my mind around the sudden increase in interest, or at least in publication, of the Hairy Who, some of the most influential but underappreciated artists of the late 20th Century. Decidedly unhip at a time when conceptual and minimalist art was in fashion, in the late 60's and early 70's this Chicago based artists group produced work that was funky, emotional, bright, weird and graphic, drawing inspiration from everyday life, including comic books. For each of their exhibitions, they produced a catalog that was more of a comic, featuring work from each of the members, Jim Nutt, Karl Wirsum, Gladys Nillson, and this books collects 'em all in ravishing full color.

Big Pussy by Gina Wynbrandt (2D Cloud) A hilariously self-abasing and brilliantly acerbic comic from young wunderkind Wynbrandt depicts the artist negotiating life, lust, and love in the Internet Age. Smart, wickedly funny, and transgressive. More comics like this, please!

Remember This by Disa Wallander (KUŠ) This funny and gently sardonic story examines our memories: why do we have them, why don't we have them, what do they mean? How does art encapsulate time? That sounds stuffy, but this comic is anything but. A delight.

My Hot Date by Noah Van Sciver (Kilgore Books) This one could just as easily have been Noah's St. Cole or Fante Bukowski (Fantagraphics), I Don't Hate Your Guts (2D Cloud) or Blammo #8.5 (Kilgore). The fact is, no one in comics right now is blasting away skill-wise as breathlessly as Noah Van Sciver. His writing continues to get even better, his drawing effortlessly depicts a real, tangible, livable world with ease and understated power, and now that he's figured out his secret coloring technique, in which colors pop and ebb with distinct and beautiful shadowing and tonal effects, he's simply unstoppable. Noah will bury us all, but at least we get to come along for the ride.

Ikebana by (Retrofit/Big Planet Comics) The silent protagonist of Ikebana guides us through a humorous look at the foibles of art school and then moves into the "real world" with a ruthless clarity before climaxing in wonder and surreal ambiguity. This short comic is endlessly surprising and deeply affecting, and stayed with me long after I read it.

Terror Assaulter: OMWOT: One Man War On Terror by Benjamin Marra (Fantagraphics) Marra's ridiculous and pitch perfect satire of masculinity and violence is odd, funny, disturbing, idiotic, and brilliant.

Hey America! Wake the Fuck Up! by Ron Regé Jr. (Self-published online) As Amerika® descends deeper into cruel stupidity and vacuous self-absorption Art can still remind us of who we really are, and who we want to be. Regé's brief response to modern life does not mince words or ideas, but is still full of compassion and heart. Fantastic, powerful, and much-needed. Link

Stroppy by Marc Bell (Drawn and Quarterly) Marc Bell's first extended foray into comix storytelling in some time is a savagely funny and absurd look at hyper-capitalism and corporate control. Poor Sap Stroppy unwittingly gets mixed up in a Capitalist Poetry scheme, while his evil boss Monsieur Moustache plots his fiendish creative coup. All with Bell's trademark nuttiness and surreal good humor, natch.
 

Recidivist IV by Zak Sally (La Mano 21) Harkening back to the fuck all days of alternative comics, when the integrity of one's personal expression was the all-consuming goal of our art, Recidivist IV is a deeply intense, dense, and difficult guide to one person's battle with his life and art. Reading the book requires that you sweat it out in the trenches with the author, and when you finally come out the other side you've had an undeniable taste of his struggle. A real achievement in a world where many cartoonists actually seek mediocrity, and ho-hum is often the most one can expect.

FOR THE LOVE OF COMICS

A few days ago my good friend Noah Van Sciver posted his advice for young cartoonists, and it hit a nerve with a lot of people.  You can find his post here.  My name was mentioned in the essay, so I thought I would add a few thoughts of my own, in addition to what Noah said (which I'm in agreement with).

One thing I would say is that comics is still a small enough world that if you have talent, and cultivate that talent seriously, and find a unique voice and style, people will notice. There's no secret handshake or special gimmick you need to come up with. Just do good work, keep doing good work, and keep trying to improve. And be patient.

Don't let some imaginary perfect genius idea, that will take years to develop, keep you from doing hard, consistent work on what you have at hand right now. Just start somewhere and keep going.

Also, for the record, not ALL professional cartoonists have some "secret" means of supporting themselves. Many do it by working in illustration, web design, animation, making sandwiches at Panera Bread. But the number of cartoonists in the US that survive purely off "comics" is very very small. (I'm talking about people making personal, idiosyncratic art-comics, not genre stuff for big publishers.)

And: There is no shame and should be no sneering towards those with underlying financial support. Artists have had patrons and underlying support since forever. The larger problem is that on the surface comics seems like a "real" industry: there are well-attended comics festivals all over the country, awards given, NY Times Bestseller lists, and on and on. Looking at it from the outside it seems like "Yeah, this is something to get involved in!" The trick is that despite all that, the vast majority of people making their living solely from art-comics in this country work their asses off and still live in poverty.

For me personally, I didn't have a secret safety net, I just learned over time how to be comfortable surviving on $8000 a year. But when I got into comics I had no illusions about what I was facing. And I made that choice. And I wouldn't trade it for anything else.

SPX PLUS Part Four

After leaving Pittsburgh Tuesday morning, we headed west on I-70, into Columbus, the Next Seattle®.

Just waitin' on a friend.

Sold some comics at Used Kids, then headed across the street to the Cartoon Research Library, where we met up with fellow SPX traveler J.T. Dockery, and Associate Curator Caitlin McGurk gave us a behind-the-scenes tour.

I'd been to the library many times -- in fact I think it was the place where I first met Dylan Williams, pouring over old White Boy comics with cotton gloves on -- but I'd never been behind the magic door where all the comics are actually archived.  It was a cartoonist's dream!

JP, NVS, and JTD view an original Jack Davis drawing.

(Photo courtesy Caitlin McGurk)

The back room was full of sliding shelves, flat files, photographic equipment, and books, lots of books.  We got to look at original Windsor McCays, Segars, Bushmillers, and much more.  Amazing.

Caitlin's cat, Zeek.

Just three dudes, hangin' out.

Our Founder.

Whut-zat?!?

Whudizzit?

It's a squirrel.

After selling comics to the good ol' Laughing Ogre, we made our way further west to Indianapolis, where I had a couple shops to drop off King-Cats at-- Comic Carnival and Luna Music.  Then back on the highway for the dreaded trip up to Chicago.

Dreaded because this stretch of interstate between Indy and Chicago is almost always snarled with terrible traffic-- giant trucks going 85 and pickup trucks going 40.  And delays, construction, and slowdowns.  We were cutting it close...  but we made it to Chicago with time enough to stop at Sultan's Market before the event at Quimby's.

Noah at Quimby's.

Is Quimby's the best weirdo bookstore in the country?  The world?

Quimby's not only has cool books, but cool staff too, notably the great Edie Fake and Neil Brideau.

Check out the tattoo!

JP and Felicia, lifelong (I hope-- for her sake!) King-Cat fan.

(Photo by Liz Mason.)

We drove back to Beloit that night, and the next morning I took Noah to the airport.  When I got back I commenced power-sleeping, because the next day I was heading up to Minneapolis, for the last leg of the trip.

NEXT:  THE PARIS OF THE MIDWEST

SPX PLUS Part Three

So every occasion I've been to, or through, Washington DC, I've never been able to spend time there.  I've always had to be somewhere else the next day.  This time I arranged to have a day off on the Monday after SPX, so Noah and I could check it out a bit.

At breakfast we found out that Joseph Remnant needed a ride to the airport, so I agreed to take him down there if he didn't mind tagging along on our little tourist jaunt.  We drove down together to the National Mall.

The Washington Monument is very impressive in person.

World War II Memorial

Lincoln Memorial in the distance.

View from the Lincoln Memorial steps.

After that we walked over to the White House.

Wasps' nest on the White House fence.

We ended up at the Smithsonian for a bit before it was time to take Joseph to Dulles.  

Afterwards, Noah and I admitted we were too tired to walk anymore, and decided to head up to Pittsburgh to visit good ol' Jim Rugg.  One of the treats of my life over the last few years has been discovering what a cool city Pittsburgh is, with so many cool people too.  I've managed to make it out there about twice a year since then, and any excuse I've had to visit I'm happy to make use of.

Jim Rugg's neighbors' cat.

KIRBY!!!

I love this cat.

We stayed up late talking about art and comics, as we are wont to do.  I told Jim I wanted to visit Copacetic the next day to look for a copy of the out-of-print Four Color Fear.  Then we went to bed, and Kirby only bothered me once.

Next morning after the rain, Jim Rugg's neighbors' other cat put footprints all over my car.  (They're still there.)

We hung out looking at old comics and talking about stuff, waiting for Copacetic to open for the day.  When Jim found out it was my birthday, he instantly reached into his shelf, pulled out a copy of Four Color Fear, and placed it in my hands.  Happy birthday, he said.  I was speechless. Are you kidding me?  Thanks Jim!

View from Copacetic's balcony.  Yes, what other comic shop in America has a balcony?

And then we were back on the road, heading to Columbus, where I wanted to sell some King-Cats, and where Caitlin McGurk had offered us a tour of OSU's Billy Ireland Cartoon Research Library.

Zzzzzzzz.

NEXT: COLUMBUS, INDY, CHICAGO