Category Archives: Print compilation review

Friends With Boys

The saying goes that all good things must come to an end. In the case of Faith Erin Hicks’ coming-of-age webcomic Friends With Boys, that ending was planned from the very start, as FWB was intended initially for print (and indeed is currently available in comic book stores). Fortunately for us, Hicks was able to talk her publisher, First Second, into serializing the comic on the internet and develop a larger readership before the comic hit the stands. The drawback to this is that FWB will only remain online in its entirety for another week; by March 6, 2012, it will be removed from the web with the exception of the first 16 pages to give new readers a brief taste before they decide on purchasing the graphic novel.

This is actually an interesting variation on what Studio Foglio and related webcomic companies do; the Girl Genius archives have been available for free since they first appeared online in 2005. The difference is, of course, that at 206 pages, FWB is far more easily read in an archive crawl than the truly massive GG archives; in essence, the difference between the two is that FWB (with its set introduction, climax, and denouement) is a stand-alone novel, while the GG graphic novels are an ongoing series. Thus while I’ll miss the comic when it vanishes from the web, this was never meant to be FWB’s home. Instead, in time I’ll track down a copy and it’ll join my growing collection of print compilations.

The comic itself remains true to life in that there are elements left unanswered. To give a minor spoiler, we never do learn what happened to Maggie’s mother, and if Maggie’s parents ever reconcile and get back together. That does make some sense if you consider Maggie’s mother to not be a plot point, but an aspect of her setting and history; we never meet her mother, and only hear from her through Maggie and the other characters. Ultimately, she’s a cipher… and doesn’t play an actual role in the growth of Maggie into a young lady with attachments to the world outside the shelter of her family.

Likewise, we never learn any specifics of the ghost (though the revelation concerning Maggie’s brothers was intriguing, and amusing when Lloyd points out the significance of his t-shirt). Why does she haunt Maggie and her family? Why can Maggie see her? Hicks leaves this up to the readers to decide, along with the symbolism of the ghost and Maggie’s odd relationship with her. But on the whole, Friends With Boys is a story of a teenage girl making friends for the first time, and moving away from the safety of her old life. It’s a story that’s well told, and worth reading, whether you catch it online before it fades like a ghost in the morning light, or buy the graphic novel so its story can endure.

Weregeek, volume 1 & 2

One of the more interesting things I’ve witnessed over the past decade is the growing number of webcomics that have come out with print compilations of their archives. Given that the majority of webcomics exist because the Internet offers cartoonists an inexpensive venue to publish their stories without having to bow to editorial or reader constraints, it seems odd at times to see webcomics moving back to print venues. The expense of print publications, along with the uncertainty of a market makes the decision to publish one not taken casually. Unfortunately, print compilations often offer one of the few ways cartoonists can actually make money off their creation.

Given that only a fraction of a webcomic’s readership will actually deem to purchase a print compilation (seeing that we readers are notoriously stingy – why pay for something when we can read it for free online, after all), even those comics that possess larger audiences still suffer the risk of low sales. As a result, canny webcartoonists often offer exclusive content to draw in customers. This can take the form of bonus stories, extra artwork, or even creator commentary. Gamer webcomic Weregeek, by Alina Pete, utilized a combination of all three in the two print volumes of her comic. By utilizing all three content venues, she has crafted a product that not only showcases her storytelling, but also gives glimpses into the effort that went into her creation and gave it its soul.

Volume one, The Geek Within, is 54 full-color pages covering the initial three chapters of Weregeek. It also includes bonus art, conceptual sketches, a two-page bonus story, and authorial commentary that helps fill out the edition. Volume two, Creatures of the Night is also in full-color with around twice the material, covering chapters four to nine along with bonus comics, sketches, and similar material.

The comic itself follows the slow awakening of primary protagonist Mark, who wakes up (metaphorically speaking) under the full moon one evening and realizes he is a gamer geek. Seeing that he’s a fairly handsome and physically fit young adult who has a very attractive fiancée, this naturally comes as a bit of a surprise to him. Despite his initial protests to the contrary, he soon finds himself ensorcelled in the mad imaginative world of roleplaying, both tabletop and live-action, and makes several new friends in the process.

I found the storytelling style to be rather interesting, with the readers tossed into the wild imaginings of the games themselves, rather than watching over the shoulders of the gamers in what would likely be a rather boring depiction of gaming. At times this can create a sense of dissonance, given that the game-protagonists are often nearly identical to the comic-protagonists. Given that there are literal Hunters who pursue the gaming geeks in the “real” world (because imagination, science and creativity are a threat to what it means to be American), when a game utilizes Hunters in it, readers can sometimes be left unsure if they’re viewing a game or something that actually happens in the comic itself.

Of course, given Mark’s own slide into the surreal world of gaming, what we may be viewing is Mark’s own wild imaginings gone wild. The Hunters could very well be Mark’s own subconscious scolding him for being into unproductive “geeky” activities, or could even represent some metaphoric aspect of those elements of society that frown upon these activities as immature and the venue of children instead of adults. Pete herself has described the world as being similar to our own, but in which gaming is looked down upon; this description seems at odds with some of the activities, such as gamers gathering in a public park to play games and the like.

At its heart, Weregeeks is a story about friendship and of fitting in. It is about a group of people who share a common bond of imagination and creativity who get together and pretend… and we’re given a glimpse into that imagination and the storytelling they create while playing their games. This element of Weregeeks alone definitely makes it worth reading. Add in the glimpses of Alina Pete’s creative process in creating the comic, and you definitely have a product worth the while of any fan, and something that will draw in new readers as well.

Red String

It’s not often that I review stuff in the print world. Part of this has to do with the fact that I don’t read much in print comics these days. I collect a couple of comics occasionally, sneer at the rest as trite and unimaginative, and focus much of my attention to the web.

Still, there is something fundamentally satisfying about having a comic in hand, compared to one on the web. There is a physicality there, a solidness of the printed page, that is lacking with materials that are posted online. And that is a significant reason why many webcomics are looking to publish their materials in the print world.

A couple days ago I came across a story I’m quite familiar with and fond of, perched in the midst of the manga selection in Borders: Red String, by Gina Biggs. RS isn’t the first print run of an online comic I’ve come across in bookstores; I purchased two others partly to help support artists I consider excellent storytellers who deserve success in both the print and online worlds: Inverloch by Sarah Ellerton, and Earthsong by Lady Yates; I’ve intended on reviewing those works for some time now, but with the other works I’m planning on reviewing and with work and all that, those reviews kind of got put on the back burner.

This is a shame. I’ll state for the record both are professional-quality printings by cartoonists who are easily among the best found both on the internet and in the print world. If you come across these works, definitely buy them. Earthsong and Inverloch are published by Seven Seas Entertainment, and are glossy full-color works. Conversely, Red String is more akin to the paperback mangas that you can find in many bookstores these days, and is put out by Dark Horse Manga. The book fits nicely in the palm of my hand (5 1/8″ x 7 1/4″), and the paper isn’t the glossy full-color text of a graphic novel but rather the thick ordinary paper found with most American printings of manga.

Despite the smaller size than what you get on your computer monitor, you don’t lose any detail, and the text is quite legible. It’s odd, but the printed word can be far smaller in font size on paper and still be read than on the computer monitor (and indeed, I felt that the text bubbles (and font size) could have been redone in Lady Yate’s printing of Earthsong, showing more of her beautiful artwork).

Biggs did a good job with pacing as well. The story builds with the initial tale of Miharu Ogawa learning from her parents that she’s going to be married to someone she’s never met before, and running off and finding a kindred soul whom she later realizes she wants to be with despite her parents wishes. Naturally the laws of comedic irony strike, and she ends up doing what her parents want while still chasing after her own dreams.


The world expands beyond arranged marriages and the like, however, and looks into Miharu’s world in school and with her friends. Indeed, her friends grow from Fuuko and Reika to include the taciturn “lone wolf” Eiji Hayashihara, and tensions grow between Miharu and her cousin Karen. The story ends on an excellent note with Hayashihara telling Miharu to trust her feelings concerning her cousin, stating that while other people might tell her “don’t cause a scene” or “be logical,” that he thinks that she should trust those feelings.

Literarily it’s a perfect stopping point for the manga, and while the webcomic goes on long past that point (revealing why Karen is becoming antagonistic toward Miharu), fans who read just the manga without going online are at a good stopping point. In many ways I consider it a better ending than a cliffhanger would have been; fans have an inkling of what’s going on (if not why), and yet aren’t at a stop in the action, but rather a natural pause in storytelling.

Red String Volume 1 prints the first seven chapters of the webcomic. While there are no additional stories included, a cast page is included with full-page drawings of the characters along with their names, birthdates, height (in centimeters), and blood-type (something which is fairly popular for “matching” people in Japan). More importantly though is the ability to bring the comic with you to places where internet and computers are scarce. And as I said above, there’s something comforting with holding the print run in your hands and nosing through at your leisure, without worrying about the vagaries of the internet.