Comic Life

 Earlier this year, I began working at a comic book store.

If you're a subscriber, you may have noticed my reviews this year have included both manga and comic trade paperbacks. A story in any form is still a story, and being surrounded by these mediums on a daily basis has seen me include them quite regularly into my reading habits.

It does mean my reading of novels has dropped a little, but comics have also helped me out of what was becoming a slump - I'm back to reading regularly, where before I was opting more for TV, movies or video games ( hello to my new Minecraft habit, but that's another story).

One thing that's been interesting with this new comic-loving lifestyle is the jumping on point.

I've found it quite interesting how some comics are easily digestible for the uninitiated, whereas others are almost impossible to enjoy when you're not up to date with the characters, events, and storylines that have come before.

For example, I saw advertised the forthcoming title, Artemis: Wanted from DC, which sounded fantastic. However, I learned it was a spin-off that followed Trial of the Amazons - a six-part series that ran across Wonder Woman, Wonder Girl, and its own, two-issue, Trial of the Amazons. I went back and read issues 3-6 of this series so I had a better idea of what was going on, but it's a lot of work for someone looking for a good title to start with. (As it turned out, only one single issue of Artemis came out, which was incredibly disappointing. Read my Goodreads review for the single issue HERE)

My first foray into the collected editions went much better. I chose to start with a character that fascinated me: Venom. He's only relatively new to the spotlight, so fortunately there aren't too many options to cloud the judgement. I wanted to start at the very beginning, so I chose Volume One of the Venom Epic Collection - Symbiosis.

Marvel's Epic Collections are now my go-to recommendation for people looking for a starting point for comics. They collect a whole lot of various issues into one cohesive story, so even later volumes stand on their own perfectly well. In Symbiosis, I was able to read about the very beginnings of Venom (as a suit of Spider-Man) and his development from a villain of the web slinger to a hero in his own right. (You can find my Goodreads review for this volume HERE)

Since then, I've read widely across all publishers, though I do tend to favour Marvel. Titles I've enjoyed include Saga, The Boys, DCeased, Batman: The Long Halloween, Savage Avengers and House of M. I'm addicted, now, so I'm constantly digging into the worlds and trying to discover the best collections to read. Next up, I'm looking at the very popular Batman story, Hush.

I've also been reading a bit more manga in an effort to learn the most popular stories, but I've found myself more attracted to the stories that were around a decade or so ago, when I first discovered manga/anime. That's why you'll see reviews for titles like Inuyasha and Dragon Ball, as well as a lot of first volumes of the newer titles.

It can get quite overwhelming at times - there are so many stories I want to experience, while I've also got a stack of novels sitting around begging to be read. But I really do feel blessed to be a reader, and to have so much available to me.

You won't find any of my reviews for the single issues on this blog - they tend to be quite short, and there are a lot of them - but you can follow me on Goodreads if you want all of my reading updates and reviews.

If you're a comic/manga reader, I'm interested in hearing your thoughts on these things, too!

Blogger Life (1)

So apparently if you want people to actually read your blog you have to put effort into it?

I mean, that sounds HARD.

But here I am anyway, writing an actual post instead of just clicking the 'post to blog' button on my latest Goodreads review.

So.

What is it that book-loving blog readers like to read about? I need hints here people.

Shall I start with why I'm giving this blog-writing thing another crack?

Yes, I say 'another' and that's not a typo. I've tried in the past. I have. I'm not lazy, I swear. I'm just too busy reading. I'm a book lover, remember?

But I've decided to start making a little more effort because I'm one of those book lovers who is a wannabe writer. And of course part of being a writer is writing. Regularly.

I HAVE SO MANY IDEAS. I just completely suck at putting them on paper.

So here's to this blog getting my creative mojo flowing.

I'm hoping it'll be a fun learning experience, and that maybe I'll write stuff that people will actually want to read. If you're paying attention, you might even get that sneaky access to my rough drafts. Which may not seem that exciting now but, trust me, it's gonna make you feel super special when the polished versions are published and I become a household name. (So modest, I am so, so modest.)

So thanks for reading and feel free to leave your thoughts!

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Question Time: (I've seen this on other blogs; it's clearly an important part.) Do you blog? And if so, why?

The Pebble

There was only Darkness.

A great, all-encompassing Darkness that filled every corner of the world with a blackness that tainted and devoured. An endless motley shade of midnight and grey, indigo and deep purple, it raged like a mad beast; frenzied and terrifying. Its undulating movement pummelled like the waves of a ferocious storm called forth by the old sea gods—had they still existed within this Darkness that left no question of life beyond itself.

It seemed to have no purpose other than to spread fear and pain, and seep into every vulnerable crack. Whether it was barraging abandoned shores or poisoning the air, it searched for everything that could be destroyed. Nothing was permitted to survive.

Yet there was a survivor: a tiny white pebble completely at the mercy of the Darkness yet resilient. Swept up in the storm, it was battered and tossed around; or sometimes still—surrounded by a menacing calm as the Darkness lay in wait. With the Darkness enveloping everything, it was inevitable that the pebble would be struck repeatedly; so insignificant that it seemed likely the pebble would be destroyed alongside everything else. Yet still the pebble remained whole, somehow unable to be completely destroyed by the Darkness. The Darkness only became more enraged, and concentrated its efforts. Eternally trembling from repeated blows, the pebble felt the Darkness consume and rage, each blow leaving its mark yet still failing to destroy. The tides of the Darkness carried the little pebble along in its madness, and the battle between the monstrous Darkness and the tiny pebble became its own legend.

After three years of submitting to the tide of Darkness, the battered pebble washed up unexpectedly on a new shore. Although the rage of the Darkness had simmered somewhat, it still hung poisonous in the air. Yet the shore the pebble was now part of seemed less affected; the Darkness was broken by patches of light, which exposed a beach full of fine sand, and dust and  ̶  more pebbles. As the pebble lay in the momentary calm of this new reality, the matter around it drifted closer. Some combination of light and untainted water allowed the various fragments to become fused together, so that the first pebble was unexpectedly strengthened against the Darkness’s inevitable forthcoming attacks. When the Darkness renewed its raging, throwing the pebble back and forth sporadically, the pebble was hardier, and every time it rolled into the light a little more sand and pebble dust stuck to it so that it became increasingly bigger with each hit it took.

Almost as though in response, the Darkness became less. It was no less menacing, but its presence became smaller; its attacks, fewer. It took on a more solid shape; grew smaller.

Transformed.

By the time the seven year mark came around, the Darkness had become a three-headed Demon with six eyes firmly focused on the pebble. It had three ugly faces, long claws and sharp teeth and was constantly gnawing on the pebble with each of its mouths.

The rest of the world was left to rebuild, regrow. It began to flourish with this new opportunity for life, and colour crept back into the world. It used the newfound peace to develop and spread light wherever it could, determined to counteract the destruction caused by The Darkness. The new world was stronger for what it had suffered, and peace reigned.

The legendary battle between the Darkness and the pebble continued, but now it was a discreet, personal battle. The Demon knew it was losing—the sandstone shell now encasing the pebble had hardened, and though there were weaknesses these were few. Truth was, with all of the extra layers the pebble had accumulated over the past four years, it had now become almost a boulder, and its size was much bigger than that of the Darkness Demon.

The persistent Demon leapt around the pebble, lunging in to attack and then withdrawing to disappear into an inky cloud, only to attempt again from a different angle. It was merciless.

Yet each time the Demon attacked, the pebble withstood the blows a little better. The weight of the sand and pebbles that made up its skin now anchored it, keeping it stable in the chaos of the Darkness Demon’s attacks. The Demon diminished. The demon became small.

Despite its less frequent successes, the demon was not to be underestimated. When it did manage to take a bite with its sharp teeth, or slice the pebble with its claws, something of a scream issued forth from the pebble. But the pebbles and sand that made up the hardened new layers were strong. Each blow was absorbed by many, and thus weakened. The demon became less.

The final blow was a realisation, and it was this:

The shrinking of the darkness was no mere coincidence. It was no inevitable decline caused by time. The Darkness, darkness, demon—in every form it shared one thing.

Does the darkness …?

Seven years of madness and raging and hate and bitterness.

Maybe?

Seven years of storms and poison and pain.

Just maybe?

Seven years attempting to destroy that which refuses to be destroyed.

Fear the Pebble?

Thus the demon was vanquished, and light was restored.

And the Pebble was free.

NaNoWriMo

So I've signed up for NaNoWriMo for the first time in my life.

NaNoWriMo: That's National Novel Writing Month, for the uninitiated. November, every year, people from all over the world dedicate themselves to churning out 50,000 words of a complete novel. Apparently the prep is a year-round thing - so I'm a little late, boarding the ship at the start of the designated month - but hey, I've always been decent at 'winging it'. (I definitely had to Google how it all works, though.)

I have found that it really helps with the motivation. I've felt the urge to write quite strongly this past month or so, and have been attempting short stories and other writing adventures. But NNWM (is there a rule against shortening it further?!) has inspired me to put some serious effort into a novel I've been working on for years. I've got outlines, sketches, spin-off stories, character summaries etc. but haven't put a great deal of effort into writing the actual story and bringing it all together. So it's nice to finally be spending some time nurturing this one, and coaxing the story out of my mind and on to the page.

At the same time, I'm so eager to get my work out into the public domain, so I'm frustrated at how long this writing process is going to be. So I'm also toying with the idea of putting more effort into the side projects and short stories. But I also feel like I can only write these things when I get creative flares and can punch out a story in one go. I'm notorious for failing to finish my work.

All I know is that I have this burning urge to tell my stories, and have other people read them. I need to create, and I want to give birth to characters that truly come alive. I have such high hopes for my big dreams.

Writing is hard work, man. But I'm looking forward to the extra motivation that NNWM will provide.


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Find me, friend me! And share your writing journeys with me! Username: KrystalLee6363

A Modern Legend

I never had any intention of sharing a lot of personal information about myself here. This is really about writing, and books, and stories. However the story I feel driven to share needs a little background info.

As much as I love reading and writing, these things alone don't pay the bills. My full time job is actually retail: I work for Foot Locker. Retail has a pretty bad rep, but I quite enjoy it. Every day is different, and I get to meet some really interesting people.

For the past few months, I've been spending most of my work days running our store's House of Hoops section. This branch of FL is dedicated to Nike basketball, and brings me plenty of customers who are dedicated to the sport. 

I love interacting with people who are passionate. People who have been wearing Jordans since they were kids, people who have to have the latest in b-ball fashion, young people who are just starting to build their collections. People of all ages who feel alive every time they set foot on a court. People who are just learning to play. People who are looking for their very first pair of basketball shoes, and people who are replacing the latest pair of shoes to be falling apart from abuse on the court. People who idolise Lebron, Kyrie, Kobe ... people who are inspired, and inspiring.

I love to hear their stories, and yesterday I met a girl whose story will stay with me for a long time.

She was young - eleven or twelve, I think. Athletic, and decked out in her basketball uniform after the morning's game. She came in with her mum, looking to try a pair of new Kyries, being familiar with the previous model.

When we realised the Kyrie IV wasn't going to work for her, I suggested some other models, and her mum saw more time was needed so she went to move the car, leaving her daughter alone to continue trying shoes.

I'd been flat out since I'd started, but somehow it was suddenly just the two of us, and not another customer in sight.

So to fill the silence while we tried some different styles, I asked this girl how often she played basketball. And she opened up to me.

This girl plays seven days a week. 

She trains with her team(s), she trains on her own, and she plays games on weekends. She plays during school, and after. She would play more if she could, but something was stopping her.

See, during her lunch hours, she wanted to play basketball. As her friends preferred to sit around gossiping, she would instead play ball with the boys. This, however, caused a bit of trouble for her because some of the boys she played with were the boyfriends of her friends. 

She was bullied for it. Some of the girls played on the same ladies team, and they would throw balls at her, claiming it was accidental. They seemed to think she was trying to steal their boyfriends. So she had begun to avoid playing with the boys.

The way she spoke so plainly about it broke my heart.

In truth, it took my back to my own high school days.

I had been the same as this girl - I chose to spend my lunchtimes playing soccer with the boys, because sitting around gossiping about reality TV just didn't excite me. The fallout wasn't a good time for me. 

This girl's story took me back to my own experiences, but I could tell I was facing a girl who was much stronger than I was at that age.

She moved on to tell me how she was training hard for upcoming tryouts, working to be equally dexterous with each hand because that was important in being picked for the team. She spent her own time honing her skills, working hard to become better. I admire the hell out of that.

This girl was being bullied because of the insecurities of others, but she was still out there, busting her guts to be better. To progress, and advance. She wouldn't have mentioned the bullying if it didn't bother her, but she wasn't letting it slow her down. I told her she should never stop doing something she loves because of what others think, and she nodded as though she was inclined to think that way already.

I wanted to offer some meaningful words of encouragement, but it felt inadequate when I was already so floored by her resilience. In the end, I just said exactly what I was thinking: 'You know what? With your dedication, and your attitude, you are going to go far in life, girl. You're incredible.'

The small talk dwindled, her mum returned, customers came flooding back, and the girl picked out some Hyperdunk X that fit her like a glove.Time resumed.

The whole experience was so valuable to me, and I'm so glad to know that there are young people out there like this girl who will become the strong, fierce women of the future. 

These are the stories that are so easily overlooked, that I want to tell. People who are fighting their own battles, pushing themselves every day for things they believe in. Today, this girl is fighting bullying so that she can play more of the sport she loves. Who knows what future this will build for her? Maybe one day she'll go pro, and be a role model for girls who will be in the same position she once was. And she'll be able to make their lives that much brighter because she'll be the living proof that says, 'Look what we are capable of.' 

There are so many stories like this one, waiting to be told. So many people carving paths that will make this world a better place. It's the small acts of rebellion against the boxes we are forced into that will allow society to grow and thrive.

My writing veers towards myths and legends, and I feel like yesterday I caught a glimpse at the early days of a modern legend. This girl will go on to do great things, I am certain. 

I feel so privileged that she opened up to me, and shared a little of her story with me, and I hope one day I can share stories like hers with the world so that more people can take notice of the overlooked who are so worthy of our admiration.