Here are this week's links to what I've had published recently...Here are this week's links to what I've had published recently...
But this specific reprint isn't what I want to talk about.
The issue has taken me over a week to get through, despite being only 100 pages of pretty simple stories, none of which are longer than 20 pages. The plots are not complex, there's not a whole lot of characterization; I don't think any single story took more than (conservatively) ten minutes to get through. If I sat down and read the entire book cover-to-cover in one sitting, it wouldn't take me much longer than an hour. But, see, here's the thing: I can't read this entire thing cover-to-cover in one sitting.
It's something I've run into not infrequently before with Golden Age comics. Whether it's a facsimilie edition like this or part of a larger trade paperback or something on microfiche or an actual, honest-to-goodness original issue, it's hard for me to read through them for any length of time because... well, the polite thing to say is that they're all very much of their time. It'd probably be more accurate to say that they're bad.
Don't misunderstand -- I'm not slagging off on any of the creators who were working on comics back then. Comic books, as an industry, was brand new. Despite the broad form of comics (i.e. sequential art) having been around for centuries, the notion of comic books as both an art form and an industry unto itself only really started in the mid-1930s. When Superman, Batman, Captain Marvel, and a lot of those other early characters debuted, things were very much still in a "well, let's just throw everything at the wall and see what sticks" stage. Publishers were hiring anyone who could string a couple words together to write, and anyone who could draw something vaguely more nuanced than a stick figure to draw. And while there were indeed talented individuals who came to the medium, it was a medium that no one had quite figured out yet. And it didn't help that everyone who was getting hired had virtually no experience. Jack Kirby was only twenty years old when he started working at the Eisner-Iger shop. Will Eisner was only a few months older himself. The "old man" of that group was Lou Fine -- he was all of twenty-two.
All of which meant that no one knew what worked or didn't work in comic books yet, and even the most talented people had almost no experience yet. So the comics back then were... bad. Overly simplistic plots "written" by the artists who were just making up the story as they went along. (Air quotes on "written" because none of it was planned, not because the artists weren't developing the stories. The stories were "written" in much the same way improve theater is.) Not to mention that everyone was working on obscene deadlines, often using crap materials. That anything at all memorable got published was nothing short of miraculous.
But those gems, while held up in high regard today, were rare. Creators were churning out a LOT of crap to get to those gems. I mean, sure, Action Comics #1 had the debut of Superman but the Tex Thomson story is garbage. "The Adventures of Marco Polo" story is surprisingly dull. Chuck Dawson, Scoop Scanlon, and Pep Morgan are entirely forgettable. There's a reason why kids in 1938 were asking for the comic with Superman in it when they scanned the new issues' covers and Action Comics #2 didn't show anything noteworthy.
Which is why it's taken me over a week to get through a single comic book. I'd get through the Captain Marvel story and with its lack of characterization and plot holes big enough to drive a tank through, I had to set the book aside for a bit. I tackled the Spy Smasher story the next night; that one was worse. The Minute Man story; worse still. Don't even get me started on the Bulletman story! Sprinkle in some blatant sexism throughout the whole thing, add in a few painfully racist caricatures, and you've got something that I really can't deal with for more than 10-15 minute bursts. Even trying to force myself through it strictly as an intellectual exercise.
That's a large part of why I don't do more Golden Age research than I do. I definitely want to learn about the foundations of the medium so I can better understand how/why it developed the way it did, but I don't have a thesis paper or anything riding on it, so I have no problem setting these types of comics aside frequently to cleanse my comics palette.
Obviously, Diamond's own bankruptcy earlier this year prompted all sorts of problems throughout the comics industry. Problems that, frankly, could have been much worse if several of the larger publishers hadn't switched distributors over the past 3-4 years. But we all knew there was going to be a ripple effect from Diamond's bankruptcy. Publishers would have problems distributing their books, and retailers would have trouble getting new shipments in to sell to readers. I haven't heard of any retailers closing because of this, but I've certainly heard plenty about several smaller publishers running into financial problems because Dimaond has held on to existing stock that should have been returned, and hasn't paid publishers for books they've already sold.
I also mentioned, back in June, that I was seeing concrete evidence that some publishers effectively halted production of everything while they looked for an alternate distributor to Diamond. They certainly didn't want to keep sending material to Diamond when Diamond wasn't paying what it already owed them. And while I've heard stories of several publishers running into cash flow issues because of these problems, I hadn't heard of a publisher actually shutting down because Diamond hadn't paid them yet.
I might be wrong -- there has been an absolute fire hose of comics industry news since January -- so I might have missed something, but I believe Humanoids is the first publlisher formally closing because of Diamond's issues. Not only is this severely unfortunate for all the employees of Humanoids, but everyone who touched their books. And that is the real devastation of Diamond's bankruptcy... that it's started a number of dominoes, none of which will fall favorably for anyone.
- Reed Richards -- The base figure is Indiana Jones (Cairo) from 2023. I removed the gun belt and the bit of untucked shirt. The undershirt is just a small u-shape that I 3D printed and glued around his neck and then just painted that and his base torso white. The head is a Peter Parker one. I bought it by itself online, and I haven't been able to track down the specific figure it's from. It looks to share the same sculpt as the one from the 2019 Spider-Man / Kraven two-pack but it obviously lacks the 'battle damage' paint scheme. The watch is pulled from VF-1 Wolfpack (see below).
- Ben Grimm -- The figure is literally just Ramen Toys' VF-1 Wolfpack from their Aces of Aviation line. (I think this came out in 2024?) The only thing I did was remove the "G-Suit."
- Sue Storm -- The base figure is MJ from 2024's Spider-Man: No Way Home line. The head is from the Marvel Legends Red Onslaught series Sharon Carter from 2016. The head naturally sits way too high on the neck by default, so I had to Dremel out the inside of the head a bit to get it to sit lower.
- Johnny Storm -- The base figure is Peter Parker from the Peter Parker / Ned Leeds two-pack from 2022. The head is from the Luke Skywalker (50th Anniversary) Power of the Force series from 2020. In this case, the neck ball was far too large for the hole in the head, so I trimmed down the ball.
- Alyssa Moy -- This is a 2024 Marvel Legends Bloodstorm with a pair of generic Legends female hands, and a 3D printed resin head of Lara Croft. I purchased the head because I don't believe my 3D printer has the fidelity to pull off a face very well. This is clearly the heaviest paint job of any of the figures here. I believe the only parts of the figure I didn't paint were the arms and boots. Ideally, I should probably have swapped the legs for ones that did not have pants seams and wrinkles sculpted into them, but I just try not to look at her knees very much and carry on.
- Victor Von Doom -- The base here is a Falcon / Winter Solider Baron Zemo figure with the coat and shirt painted shades of green. The hands are extras, painted a flesh tone, from the Dum Dum Dugan / Nick Fury Jr. / Sharon Carter 3-pack from 2024. I 3d printed the head myself from a generic mummy design and gave it a very light wash with some black paint that had been heavily diluted with thinner.
- The library -- This is the Buffy the Vampire Slayer Sunnydale High Library playset from a decade ago. The table, armor, candlesticks, and most of the loose books were 3D printed by me. The brain-in-a-jar was mostly 3D printed by me, but the bell jar portion was intended to be a "dome pendant" that I removed the original base and hook from. The remaining 'artifacts' around the room were just scrounged accessories from other figures I already had.
In any event, that's what I've been working on the past couple weeks behind the scenes. If anyone is encouraged to make versions of these figures yourself, I'd love to see them -- I don't doubt they easily surpass my attempts here!
I wrote the following back in 2009, so I've been sitting with these ideas for over a decade. I think they're all still perfectly valid, but I don't know how widespread this type of thinking is among comics folks, so I thought it might be worth coming back to it again. I've gone through and updated some of the topical references, but the basic points remain.
Cultural capital.
Attention economy.
Social media.
Three phrases that are rolling around in my head right now, and I'm trying to wrap my head around all three concepts as they pertain to comics. How about I start with some definitions so that we're all on the same page?
Cultural capital is a term that was introduced in the early 1970s by Pierre Bourdieu. He argued that there were three forms of capital: economic, social and cultural. Economic capital is what we typically think of when we use "capital." We're talking about money and assets. Social capital is a more analytical view of social standing; it's not unrelated to popularity, though there are some differences. Cultural capital is the knowledge, skill and experience one has tied to a particular culture or sub-culture.
In terms of comicdom, it's how well you know the Spider-Man mythos, whether or not you can recite the Green Lantern oath from memory, being able to determine who inked a comic just by looking at the style... that kind of thing.
Herbert Simon noted in the early 1970s that we, as a society, were beginning to experience information overload. People were bombarded by so many messages and ideas that the attention they could give each one was being substantially diminished. This information overload gave rise to an attention scarcity -- there's more information than attention to receive it. The problem wasn't so much getting your message out there, but filtering out everybody else's. You're battling for people's attention. The number of viewers matters. Your ratings matter. This is an attention economy.
Finally, social media are outlets which foster communities and personal interactions. It's easy to cite things like Facebook and Twitter which showcase popular social media, but old school BBSes and message boards certainly qualify too.
Here's where things get tricky. There seems to be a connection there, like all three notions are somehow related, but it's hard to verbalize cohesively. I think, though, that by trying to walk through a particular example -- in this case, comics -- might help facilitate some understanding. Let's start with social media, since that's probably what most people are most familiar with.
What happens when a creator puts a webcomic online? A group of people find the comic, and presumably some like it. Many, if not most, of the online comic publishing options available include some sort of feedback option, so readers leave a note about how they like the comic. Maybe the creator(s) respond(s). Maybe somebody else just says, "Yeah, I like that too!" Sometime afterwards, a small community develops around the comic in question.
People have a natural inclination to seek out others similar to themselves. It produces a feeling of self-worth and validation, certainly, but when you get down to it, it makes life more enjoyable when you surround yourself with people you're comfortable with. And the use of comics is essentially just a bridge to achieving that end. It provides a common ground for everyone to start from as they get to know one another.
"Hey, you like Questionable Content? I like it too! What do you like most about it?"
It provides a direction for your introduction into a group, as opposed to walking into a room full of strangers and being asked, "Tell us about yourself." That's a totally open-ended question, and anyone could go off in a million different directions. By focusing on one aspect -- your enjoyment of a specific comic -- you can introduce yourself in a more directed (i.e. less ambiguous, more comfortable) manner.
Now, as you probably know, any group is composed of individuals. And each individual is going to bring different knowledge and experience to the table. And what is the sum of our knowledge and experience but cultural capital? This means that, in a group of people founded on the enjoyment of a shared resource, a hierarchy of sorts will emerge as each person reveals their cultural capital relative to that group.
"Wha...?"
Let me explain via a personal example.
One of my favorite comics for years was The Fantastic Four. I read everything about them I could get my hands on, and I developed a pretty keen awareness of the characters and their fictional histories. In the mid-1990s, I started developing a website to collect all my knowledge about the FF. Some of it was strictly factual (who worked on what issues) while some of it was theoretical (how the story from issue #5 could be reconciled -- and expanded upon -- with very real accounts of the historical Blackbeard). I participated in FF fan groups and garnered a name for myself on various message boards and the like. Over the course of the next decade, I became relatively well-known as THE expert on the Fantastic Four.
And I eventually came to be asked to assist on a number of official FF products; you can see me credited in Fantastic Four #500, Marvel Masterworks: Fantastic Four vol. 10 and the extended edition of the Fantastic Four movie DVD among other places. I was being sought after by others precisely because of the cultural capital I developed over and above what most FF fans accumulated.
Now those people with a relatively high amount of cultural capital in a given group? Those folks are what might be called influencers. The group has high regard for them, and are more likely to follow their lead on various opinions. "After all, they are experts, so they must know more than I do on the subject." This is essentially an old practice. Magazines devoted to a given subject are often given review copies of products related to that subject, in the hopes that the magazine will review it favorably and get others to buy it. In the 21st century, though, expertise has less to with having your name in print, and more to do with actual expertise. (Or, more accurately, perceived expertise.) The experts are now Twittering and Facebooking and YouTubing. They're accumulating their cultural capital through social media. Which means they're capturing people's attention.
(See where I'm going with this?)
The people who are out there, developing their cultural capital, are ALSO developing an avenue through which they can break through people's attention filters. People have ALREADY decided that those with cultural capital are attention-worthy, and allow those messages to pass through their filters. Regular readers of this blog have a pretty good idea what to expect when they come here. I've generated whatever cultural capital I have and become an avenue for a certain type/style of message. And if you, as a creator, think the people who typically receive that type/style of message overlaps with your intended audience, then it's a prime outlet to target YOUR message. I have obtained something of value (readers' attention) that can be exchanged for something else (money, comp. copies of comics, etc.). But, it should be noted, it's only of value if my audience, such as it is, is who you are targeting. While I certainly don't have data to back this up, but I doubt my audience has a lot of overlap with, say, The Beat's or CBR's. If you're trying to target the folks who read those regularly, it's probably not worth your time treating me like an influencer because, for that audience, I'm not.
Still with me? On to practical application.
Most comic creators don't have the PR budget of Marvel and/or DC. Options are limited because of resources. Whether we're talking about webcomics or pamphlet books, creators need to understand our three subject areas specifically as it pertains to their creation.
Who is the target audience? There is no comic anywhere that's for everyone. (Even yours.) So creators need to first identify what sort of people are likely to enjoy it. Are they people who read Fleen, fans of Cat and Girl, anyone who kind of likes the Hulk, what? It's crucial to understand who a creator is to speaking to (generally) to understand who a creator needs to speak to (specifically).
Once the general audience is identified, a creator then needs to determine A) who has significant cultural capital in that group (the influencers) and B) what social media does they tend to gather around. Webcomics have something of advantage here over pamphlet comics since most social networks are technologically oriented like webcomics delivery systems themselves. Pamphlet comics certainly can and often do use those same social media, but not necessarily, and not necessarily in as concentrated locations. Fans of Sinfest tend to hang out right there at the dedicated forum; fans of Action Comics have quite a few more locations available to them. But some extended research is probably required; popping up out of the blue and asking, "Hey, who's got clout around here?" isn't likely to garner the best responses. A creator might have to sift through messages for quite some time to get a sense of who might have sway over the group.
Once the influencers are identified, the creator then needs to assuage their attention economy. How much do they feel their eyeball traffic is worth? Are they happy just to look at any new work? Are they so swamped with other things that an extra incentive (like an original sketch) is necessary to stand out a little more? Are they small time and happy to speak to any creator, or do they operate more professionally and have a specific address for review material? A creator needs to do more research, essentially, on how to influence the influencer.
Bear in mind that winning over the influencers isn't a sure sign to financial rewards. It is likely to win some cultural and possibly social capital, but economic capital is another matter. Like it or not, we're still in a society that runs on economic capital and I'm fairly certain we won't be counting Whuffie any time soon. But without making exchanges in the attention economy, monetizing a comic is a lost cause. The greatest comic in the world, after all, has no chance of improving your bank account if no one knows about it.
Cultural capital.
Attention economy.
Social media.
Three phrases that are rolling around in my head right now, and I'm trying to wrap my head around all three concepts as they pertain to comics. How about I start with some definitions so that we're all on the same page?
Cultural capital is a term that was introduced in the early 1970s by Pierre Bourdieu. He argued that there were three forms of capital: economic, social and cultural. Economic capital is what we typically think of when we use "capital." We're talking about money and assets. Social capital is a more analytical view of social standing; it's not unrelated to popularity, though there are some differences. Cultural capital is the knowledge, skill and experience one has tied to a particular culture or sub-culture.
In terms of comicdom, it's how well you know the Spider-Man mythos, whether or not you can recite the Green Lantern oath from memory, being able to determine who inked a comic just by looking at the style... that kind of thing.Herbert Simon noted in the early 1970s that we, as a society, were beginning to experience information overload. People were bombarded by so many messages and ideas that the attention they could give each one was being substantially diminished. This information overload gave rise to an attention scarcity -- there's more information than attention to receive it. The problem wasn't so much getting your message out there, but filtering out everybody else's. You're battling for people's attention. The number of viewers matters. Your ratings matter. This is an attention economy.
Finally, social media are outlets which foster communities and personal interactions. It's easy to cite things like Facebook and Twitter which showcase popular social media, but old school BBSes and message boards certainly qualify too.
Here's where things get tricky. There seems to be a connection there, like all three notions are somehow related, but it's hard to verbalize cohesively. I think, though, that by trying to walk through a particular example -- in this case, comics -- might help facilitate some understanding. Let's start with social media, since that's probably what most people are most familiar with.
What happens when a creator puts a webcomic online? A group of people find the comic, and presumably some like it. Many, if not most, of the online comic publishing options available include some sort of feedback option, so readers leave a note about how they like the comic. Maybe the creator(s) respond(s). Maybe somebody else just says, "Yeah, I like that too!" Sometime afterwards, a small community develops around the comic in question.
People have a natural inclination to seek out others similar to themselves. It produces a feeling of self-worth and validation, certainly, but when you get down to it, it makes life more enjoyable when you surround yourself with people you're comfortable with. And the use of comics is essentially just a bridge to achieving that end. It provides a common ground for everyone to start from as they get to know one another.
"Hey, you like Questionable Content? I like it too! What do you like most about it?"
It provides a direction for your introduction into a group, as opposed to walking into a room full of strangers and being asked, "Tell us about yourself." That's a totally open-ended question, and anyone could go off in a million different directions. By focusing on one aspect -- your enjoyment of a specific comic -- you can introduce yourself in a more directed (i.e. less ambiguous, more comfortable) manner.
Now, as you probably know, any group is composed of individuals. And each individual is going to bring different knowledge and experience to the table. And what is the sum of our knowledge and experience but cultural capital? This means that, in a group of people founded on the enjoyment of a shared resource, a hierarchy of sorts will emerge as each person reveals their cultural capital relative to that group.
"Wha...?"
Let me explain via a personal example.
One of my favorite comics for years was The Fantastic Four. I read everything about them I could get my hands on, and I developed a pretty keen awareness of the characters and their fictional histories. In the mid-1990s, I started developing a website to collect all my knowledge about the FF. Some of it was strictly factual (who worked on what issues) while some of it was theoretical (how the story from issue #5 could be reconciled -- and expanded upon -- with very real accounts of the historical Blackbeard). I participated in FF fan groups and garnered a name for myself on various message boards and the like. Over the course of the next decade, I became relatively well-known as THE expert on the Fantastic Four.
And I eventually came to be asked to assist on a number of official FF products; you can see me credited in Fantastic Four #500, Marvel Masterworks: Fantastic Four vol. 10 and the extended edition of the Fantastic Four movie DVD among other places. I was being sought after by others precisely because of the cultural capital I developed over and above what most FF fans accumulated.Now those people with a relatively high amount of cultural capital in a given group? Those folks are what might be called influencers. The group has high regard for them, and are more likely to follow their lead on various opinions. "After all, they are experts, so they must know more than I do on the subject." This is essentially an old practice. Magazines devoted to a given subject are often given review copies of products related to that subject, in the hopes that the magazine will review it favorably and get others to buy it. In the 21st century, though, expertise has less to with having your name in print, and more to do with actual expertise. (Or, more accurately, perceived expertise.) The experts are now Twittering and Facebooking and YouTubing. They're accumulating their cultural capital through social media. Which means they're capturing people's attention.
(See where I'm going with this?)
The people who are out there, developing their cultural capital, are ALSO developing an avenue through which they can break through people's attention filters. People have ALREADY decided that those with cultural capital are attention-worthy, and allow those messages to pass through their filters. Regular readers of this blog have a pretty good idea what to expect when they come here. I've generated whatever cultural capital I have and become an avenue for a certain type/style of message. And if you, as a creator, think the people who typically receive that type/style of message overlaps with your intended audience, then it's a prime outlet to target YOUR message. I have obtained something of value (readers' attention) that can be exchanged for something else (money, comp. copies of comics, etc.). But, it should be noted, it's only of value if my audience, such as it is, is who you are targeting. While I certainly don't have data to back this up, but I doubt my audience has a lot of overlap with, say, The Beat's or CBR's. If you're trying to target the folks who read those regularly, it's probably not worth your time treating me like an influencer because, for that audience, I'm not.
Still with me? On to practical application.
Most comic creators don't have the PR budget of Marvel and/or DC. Options are limited because of resources. Whether we're talking about webcomics or pamphlet books, creators need to understand our three subject areas specifically as it pertains to their creation.
Who is the target audience? There is no comic anywhere that's for everyone. (Even yours.) So creators need to first identify what sort of people are likely to enjoy it. Are they people who read Fleen, fans of Cat and Girl, anyone who kind of likes the Hulk, what? It's crucial to understand who a creator is to speaking to (generally) to understand who a creator needs to speak to (specifically).
Once the general audience is identified, a creator then needs to determine A) who has significant cultural capital in that group (the influencers) and B) what social media does they tend to gather around. Webcomics have something of advantage here over pamphlet comics since most social networks are technologically oriented like webcomics delivery systems themselves. Pamphlet comics certainly can and often do use those same social media, but not necessarily, and not necessarily in as concentrated locations. Fans of Sinfest tend to hang out right there at the dedicated forum; fans of Action Comics have quite a few more locations available to them. But some extended research is probably required; popping up out of the blue and asking, "Hey, who's got clout around here?" isn't likely to garner the best responses. A creator might have to sift through messages for quite some time to get a sense of who might have sway over the group.
Once the influencers are identified, the creator then needs to assuage their attention economy. How much do they feel their eyeball traffic is worth? Are they happy just to look at any new work? Are they so swamped with other things that an extra incentive (like an original sketch) is necessary to stand out a little more? Are they small time and happy to speak to any creator, or do they operate more professionally and have a specific address for review material? A creator needs to do more research, essentially, on how to influence the influencer.
Bear in mind that winning over the influencers isn't a sure sign to financial rewards. It is likely to win some cultural and possibly social capital, but economic capital is another matter. Like it or not, we're still in a society that runs on economic capital and I'm fairly certain we won't be counting Whuffie any time soon. But without making exchanges in the attention economy, monetizing a comic is a lost cause. The greatest comic in the world, after all, has no chance of improving your bank account if no one knows about it.
The story follows Marguerite, who seems to be doing pretty well for 27 years old. She's got a regular job to pay the bills; she's been living with her boyfriend for the past two years; they have a dog and multiple cats; she has a circle of friends and relatives she spends time with. She does have her challenges, though. She's introverted enough that many of her coworkers think of her as cold; she can get over-stimulated in crowded areas; she gets frazzled pretty easily when something unexpected comes up. None of this seems particularly delibitating or anything, but it can make things awkward for her and often inconvenient for others. She eventually starts Googling her symptoms and realizes that she sees a lot of herself in the descriptions of autistic people. She consults a couple doctors, and eventually gets a formal diagnosis, which she takes as a great relief as she now has an explanation for her seemingly atypical thoughts and feelings. She embraces the autism label and begins deliberately changing pretty much all aspects of her life to accomodate or, better yet, cater to her new-found sense of self. This includes radically changing -- even eliminating -- many of her relationships as well as quitting her job in favor of becoming an advocate for autism awareness, eventually leading to the writing of this book!
The story does a good job of showcasing how a person can get well into adulthood without knowing or understanding how they might be autistic. A lot of stereotypes and caricatures keep many people from even considering it as a possible explanation. Marguerite frequently hears "... but you look me in the eye" as a response when telling people. Several of the people in Marguerite's "support group" weren't diagnosed until they were in their late 30s or 40s; one guy made it to 50. It is a spectrum after all and not everyone manifests the same behaviors in the same ways. This is emphasized by Marguerite's own diagnosis taking two full months as her doctors sorted through all the various options.
I have met and worked with a number of people over the years who have had various neuroatypical behaviors. Some had a formal diagnosis which was explicitly told to me, some seemed to have a formal diagnosis but only spoke to it obliquely, and others either didn't even know or knew and chose not to share that information but their behavior was consistent with others I've encountered. Of those that expressly mentioned it, ADHD has been most commonly cited. And the point of my saying that is part of why it seems a bit odd to discuss this book in 2025. The landscape has changed pretty significantly over the past decade -- for a direct example, author Julie Dachez was originally diagnosed with Asperger syndrome, which is no longer professionally used/recognized in favor of simply saying that a person is on the autism spectrum. It seems to me that the autism activism that Dachez and others have done has worked incredibly well in regards to bringing more knowledge and general awareness of what autism is and how people with it are often forced to navigate in a very neurotypical world.
But on the other hand (and good grief, I literally sighed in exasperation as I started typing this) then we have assipes like R.F. Kennedy Jr. who's going around using an unearned platform he's wildly undeserving of to disseminate completely absurd and wholly unsubstanitated claims about the causes of autism. Claims that are so far beyond wrong that I won't dignify them enough by repeating them here. And, as much as I hate that this is the case, but there are people who will listen to these cruel-for-the-sake-of-cruelty claims and take them at face value because someone in a position of political authority -- though by no means intellectual, scientific, or ethical authority -- verbalized them. So maybe someone who believes his lies will see this latest release of Invisible Differences and learn a little about what autism actually is. (There is, at the end of the book, an excellent summary guide for "Understanding Autism.")
I won't get into the technical aspects of the storytelling, how Dachez and illustrator Mademoiselle Caroline handle things from a strictly comics production perspective. Suffice it to say that the 2020 edition was nominated for an Eisner Award for Best Reality-Based Work. The talent is there.
The paperback version of Invisible Differences came out last month from Oni Press. It retails for $19.99 US, and it should be available from your favorite bookstore.
Here are this week's links to what I've had published recently...
