Niklas Eriksson started Carpe Diem in 2007, but it only began getting syndicated from King Features in 2015. Like many syndicated single panel comics, it has no regular characters or continuity, and just trades on gags. Here is the strip that ran this past Saturday...

Setting aside whatever you think of the joke itself, you might find yourself scratching your head a bit trying to parse the dialogue. The problem with it is that it's missing the word "from" as evidenced by the vertically oriented version of the strip...

It's pretty obvious that, in re-working the strip from one format to the other, the word balloon had to be re-sized and re-placed, and in changing the word-wrapping, the word "from" accidentally got deleted. These strips -- or at least the lettering -- were handled digitially, so dropping a word is extremely easy to do. An unfortunate accident, but not overly detrimental to the joke. It almost still works as is since it's not an uncommon trope to portray cavemen speaking in broken English anyway.

I'll point out, too, that I don't know what language Eriksson works in natively and, if it's not English, whether or not he does his own translation work. It's entirely possible the strip was written in Swedish and translated/re-lettered by an employee of King Features. In fact, it's possible Eriksson has never seen this English version of the strip.

But I'd like to point out the different issue in the vertical strip. The smoke rising from the volcano in the background is drawn in almost the exact same way and follows a similar parallel path to the word balloon. So it almost looks as if there's someone behind the volcano saying the exact same thing at the exact same time as the strip's actual speaker. The horizontal strip avoids this problem by A) not overlapping the word balloon with the volcano at all and B) depicting the word balloon in a different style, using a dashed line to convey more of a whisper.

Here again, I don't know precisely how Eriksson works. I know I've seen other artists who do similarly formatted strips -- notably Wiley Miller of Non-Sequitir -- draw their single panel comics in a kind of plus-sign format that allows for two sets of cropping. (See right.) This gives the artist a fairly high degree of control over what the multiple formats look like. But it's also possible that Eriksson draws his strip in a single format and, again, a King Features employee digitally re-crops it to fit an alternate format. That would explain why we're seeing two different styles of word balloons above. In fact, between that and the poor word balloon placement in the vertical format, I'd guess that Eriksson normally draws in the horizontal format and it's a graphic design intern or something handling the modifications.

(Look closely at the top of the volcano smoke in the the vertical strip. You can see a small glitch or "bump" in the line width where the original top of the horizontal panel crossed through, and someone had to extend it upwards to meet the word balloon.)

I don't point all this out to fault either Eriksson or King Features. I don't think Eriksson himself had anything to do with the "errors" to begin with, and trying to re-format a daily strip to a format it's not designed for... well, I get they're trying to work with different cultural/societal standards, and doing this on a daily basis is going to be a grind. And of all the possible things that could go sideways with this kind of situation, this is minimally problematic. But it does showcase how just the simple, regular production processes can impact a comic. Not every strip has to deal with precisely these issues, of course, but I point all this out to highlight that there are frequently unseen-to-the-casual viewer ways that a strip's humor or even basic legibility can be compromised at no fault of the creator!

There was a period, back in the late '90s/early '00s, when I considered the notion of writing comics professionally. I did eventually realize that I'm simply not that good writing fiction, and what I'm interested in saying with my writing can be better expressed without using broad metaphors like superheroes or sci-fi or whatever. But while I was toying with the notion of becoming a pro, I used a few tactics to increase my visibility. One of which was letterhacking.

This was back in the day, of course, when publishers still regularly ran letter columns. (They still do, but it seems more sporadic these days, I think.) Each issue they'd print between four and six letters from fans, and often a short response from the editor. I knew that editors weren't reading my submissions -- I'd actually called and asked for critiques after sending in several; the editors I talked to were nice and polite but flatly admitted they don't read unsolicited submissions -- but I knew they read all the letters. So my goal in submitted letters was to get my name in front the editors, and show that I could at least string together a series of coherent sentences.

To a degree, it worked. I heard second-hand later that my name was in fact recognized around some of the publisher offices, and was once even brought up out of the context of letter-writing. Of course, that never panned out to a job as a comic author, but that's partially due to both DC and Marvel discontinuing publishing letters around that time and my realization that I wasn't actually good at fiction.

But that said, I did wind up with a number of letters published over the years. I even had a string of a few months where I was averaging a published letter every other week! I was almost a celebrity at my local comic shop of the time.

Anyway, in being reminded of all this, I thought I'd throw up a quick cover gallery of the issues I know I've been published in. I might be missing a few as I didn't bother keeping track at the time, and I think there's a couple more issues in which I'm referenced on the letters page without actually having my letter published. But, if you're curious, here is in no particular order where you can find a few of my 20+ year old thoughts on various comics...

For some reason, it popped into my head to come up with some anagrams of "Fantastic Four." I've tried iterations of my own name before with nothing of note, but some of these FF anagrams seemed much more interesting...

Raincoat stuff
A tariff counts
Fanatic of rust
Fruit of sancta
Nut cost affair
Strict of fauna
Snot cuff tiara
Air nut castoff
Fat runt fiasco
If tuna factors
An outfit scarf
Our faint facts
Fact fan suitor
Fun fact ratios
Fast fur action
If toucans fart
Unfit oaf carts
Fair act futons

Why did I come up with these? I don't know. But if you happen to be doing a spoof or parody of the Fantastic Four, there are some interesting title options there. A steampunk version called "Fanatic of Rust" for example. Maybe one that focuses on long-time enemy/associate the Sub-Mariner called "If Tuna Factors..." Political intrigue in "A Tariff Counts." How about a homage to FF #1 called "Fat Runt Fiasco"?

Next Month: Susan Richards goes to the mall in search of... "An Outfit Scarf!"

I recently came across the original series of Sonambulo. It was the creation of Rafael Navarro that he began self-publishing in 1996. The original series was only three issues but it took nearly four years to complete. He followed it up with a one-shot the following year, another one-shot in 2002, and then another three-issue series that began in 2004. I can't seem to find how long that last series took to come out, but it doesn't seem like Navarro has returned to the character since then. Although he did release a 25th anniversary edition of the original story in 2022.

The basic premise is that Sonambulo is a luchador-turned-detective that cannot sleep, but is able to see other people's dreams. It's a fascinating mix of lucha libre with noir detective mysteries. I've only been able to read the first series, but I quite enjoyed it. Navarro's art style in particular was striking, with some really strong blacks, almost to the point of eschewing lines altogether in some places.

Since reading the original issues, I've done some digging to see what else Navarro has worked on. I don't believe I've come across his work before. While he has done a few other comics, most of his time has been in animation, working on everything from Rugrats (1991) to The Spectacular Spider-Man (2008).

And that's what I find interesting. In the interviews I've seen with him, he's been very clear that Sonambulo would regularly take a back seat to whatever is day job was in order to pay the bills. That's hardly an uncommon idea in comics, but he seems to have approached it with that not only top-of-mind, but as a foundational point. He wasn't trying to make a living at comics; he was making comics because he enjoyed making comics. And if it took him a year or two to come out with a new issue, that's fine; he would have something he owned that he was pleased with and he didn't need to sacrifice on anything to get it done by some arbitrary deadline, so that he could in turn sell it on a more regular schedule and pay the bills on time. The Spider-Man stuff was commercial work, and he'd do what he needed to do for it and, while he does seem to enjoy it, it's not his passion. I don't recall seeing many comic creators take that approach.

A lot of creators, like I said, do hold 'regular' jobs to be able to pay the bills, but they seem to be only doing that as a stop-gap until their comics career takes off. Whether that means getting a job drawing Superman officially for DC every month or just that their independent voice resonnates enough that Scholastic or Abrams or whomever gives them a contract to do whatever graphic novel they want to do next. Navarro seems pretty clear -- and has always seemed to have been clear -- that he was going to make a career out animation because that was realistic, and that it was an honest-to-goodness career meant that he was getting paid enough that he could self-publish some Sonambulo comics from time to time as he wished.

Could Navarro have been a comics "success" if he had put his time and energy into a comics career instead of an animation one? Maybe. But I think one thing he was very conscious of is that if he were already working for animation studios, that meant he had a regular paycheck and some sort of benefits package. A comics career, even while working for a major publisher, is still ultimately the life of a freelancer. (I mean, if you're working on the creative end of things. You'd have a regular salaried position if you're one of Marvel's accountants. But clearly Navarro wants more of a creative outlet for his work.) This is a choice I made myself when I first graduated college with a graphic design degree; I could be more expressive in my work if I freelanced but I'd also have to constantly be on the hunt for more work. If I've got a corporate job, there's a paycheck every two weeks and, sure, it's not as creative but I can better afford to do what I want in my free time. And that includes stuff liking maintaining a daily blog for two decades that I've literally never made a dime on.

In one of the interviews, Navarro noted that he had originally killed Sonambulo in his last story. Only to realize literally five minutes after finishing the page that he would like to do more, so he added a new ending in which the death was just a fake-out. He was able to do that -- both kill the character and then retroactively decide not to -- because his career isn't at all dependent on it. Whether the character was dead or not, whether Navarro ever draws another comic again or not, he's still going to be able to stock the fridge and make sure the electricity stays on and whatever.

And there is absolutely nothing wrong with that. There are eight Sonambulo comics in the world that would not exist otherwise, and whether there are ever any more, the world still has those eight. If Navarro gives us more at some point, that's fantastic. If someone takes the movie rights and makes the next summer blockbuster, that's excellent. But more importantly, Navarro himself is doing what he wants to do, telling the stories he wants to tell in his time and in his fashion. Call me crazy, but I really appreciate the realism in his entire approach here.

Here are this week's links to what I've had published recently...

Kleefeld on Comics: Obscure Invisible Woman Trivia
https://ift.tt/IJLPHGV

Kleefeld on Comics: Does Marvel Even Publish Most of Their Own Comics Any More?
https://ift.tt/SJVHGKz

Kleefeld on Comics: Agile Lettering
https://ift.tt/cG4i3gX

Kleefeld on Comics: Self-Reflection on the Harveys
https://ift.tt/5SycHkq

Kleefeld on Comics: The Space Cat Review
https://ift.tt/LRpTbUv

With a title like The Space Cat, this is a book that could easily go in hundreds of directions. So to sum things up quickly, it's basically just the life of author Nnedi Okorafor as she works on her next book. But instead of it being told from Okorafor's perspective, it's from her cat's. Which is to say that Okorafor is kind of ancillary side character at most. ☺️

Pumpernickle Pickle Periwinkle Chukwu Okorafor -- Periwinkle for short -- unlike most cats on Earth, has a father that was from Neptune. Perhaps owing to his father's adventurist spirit, Periwinkle frequently waits until his humans are asleep and then takes his self-constructed space ship out for a spin, sometimes racing alongside a six-legged cat called Orange Meow. She pretty much always beats him, so he'll work on trying to improve his ship when he's not racing. Or sleeping. Or saving his humans from miniature space aliens that look like hot sauce. Pretty much just acting like every other cat, you know?

Okorafor is sent by her publisher to Nigeria for a year to work on her next book, and Periwinkle does take some getting accustomed to the new environments, meeting a lot of the local strays and trying to stay out of the way of other humans, who have a tendency to treat cats as evil spirits. Also, there's an invasion of small, plant-looking, mind-controlling aliens that Periwinkle and the various locals animal friends he's made stop from invading. Again, pretty standard cat behaviors while Okorafor is working on her book.

If you've ever lived with a cat, you'll immediately recognize Periwinkle. He is 100% a cat in every way and following the story through his narration helps to enlighten the rest of us what must have been going through their heads when they tried to tear to shreds that stuffed toy until the squeaker came out and then they just carried the thing around like a totem. And it's also enlightening to find out what they get up to at night when you're asleep. Really, this book should be given out to people who are in the process of getting their first cat so they know what to expect.

I believe this is the second time Okorafor has teamed up with artist Tana Ford. They previously worked together on the Eisner- and Hugo-winning LaGuardia. (Which I could've sworn I reviewed here when it came out, but I can't seem to find anything.) Ford here does an excellent job portraying Periwinkle; she provides a perfect blend of realism with classic Warner Brothers style exaggerations such that every story beat seems to have just the right visual tone, even if the only difference from the previous scene is a slight change in facial expressions or something nuanced like that. And if you don't believe me, there's a few photos of the IRL Periwinkle at the end of the book and he also looks like the perfect blend of realism with classic Warner Brothers style exaggerations!

Unlike LaGuardia, I don't see much here in the way of social commentary or anything. It's just a fun story about a cat, done very well. It's a fairly light, entertaining read and made for a great way for me to wind down my week.

The Space Cat came out just this week, published by First Second. The paperback retails for $14.99 US and the hardcover for $22.99 US. If it's not stocked on your local bookstore's shelves already, they should have no problem ordering a copy for you.

The Harvey Award nominees were announced recently and, as I read through the list, I noted some of my own preferences as I expect most fans do. It got me to thinking about lists like this.

I've been aware of various comic book related awards for years. And I typically look through them with only a vague sense of their significance. I'm not historically the type of guy who gives much credence to an award; the work will either stand or not on its own merits. But I do see that the recognition inherent in an award can be very validating and motivating.

It used to be, though, that I'd look through a list like this and only recognize a couple of names. If I was asked who I'd prefer to win that year, I'd rattle off the one or two names I actually knew, oblivious to how good I felt the work actually was when put up against its competition. I had no real frame of reference to pass judgement, even if I was fully versed in what the judging criteria was.

As I grew older, and more widely read, I began to recognize more and more names that showed up on these lists. I didn't necessarily read the works that showed up, but I was at least familiar with the names there. If asked, I'd still argue in favor of the handful of names whose work I actively knew, still without really having a good frame of reference.

As I look through this year's Harvey nominees, I'm pleased to recognize virtually ALL of the names and, more significantly, have read many of them. I feel somewhat qualified to actually make some reasonable judgements on whether one should win over another. The problem, of course, now is that there's sure a wide range of talent even within one category that comparisons are almost impossible. How do you rate Beneath the Trees against Ultimate Spider-Man? How can you compare the work of Sarah Anderson against that of Gig Murakami? Excellent stuff, to be sure, but we're talking about totally different ballparks here. Apples and oranges. Mixed metaphors. Speaking as a former Eisner Awards judge myself, it's an impossible task with no right answers.

Well, I suspect that, like in past years, I'll just scan through the winners once they're announced and will take some small pleasure in those few that I personally think are much better than the others and were awarded something. And I'll take some satisfaction in having been shown that my choices in casual comic book reading are of a particularly high caliber.