I don’t do links every week, but that just makes the weeks I do even more special!
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Phil Sevy, from the Line it is Drawn, is contributing to an interesting-sounding anthology called Playlist, which is 200 pages long and consists of comic book adaptations of songs (the text in each comic comes entirely from song lyrics).
You all love you some Phil Sevy, right? So support his project! I did!
Click here to back the project.
Inside this episode! We review Kelly Sue DeConnick and Dexter Soy’s Captain Marvel #1 and Brian K. Vaughan and Fiona Staples’ Saga #5. We then have an awesome interview with Becky Cloonan so we can talk about her upcoming work on Batman #12! We talk about all of her books, her process, and what you can look for next from here. In lieu of Chick of The Week this week we talk a bit about SDCC 2012 – what we like and dislike, and what we’re excited about. Sue also gives a mini (non-spoiler) review of The Dark Knight Rises and very graciously “forces” me to talk about the last hours of my Kickstarter campaign – it ends Wednesday!
Here are the breaks:
Captain Marvel #1 – 01:00
Saga #5 – 13:24
Becky Cloonan Interview – 26:12
SDCC & The Dark Knight Rises talk! – 91:18
3 Chicks Review Comics is a podcast featuring female comics lovers and bloggers Sue from DC Women Kicking Ass and Kelly Thompson from She Has No Head! Tune in to CSBG every other Monday at noon as we review comics and discuss hot topics of the week. In addition to the blogs above, you can also follow us all on twitter as well: Kelly and Sue. Special thanks to Nik Furious for our awesome 3 Chicks theme song.
*As always beware of spoilers if you haven’t read the books in question!
When I wake up in the abandoned building it’s late afternoon judging by the sun and I feel new, like I have been slumbering in a cocoon and am now emerging strong; like being reborn. My clothes look the opposite of new however, stiff and caked in dark blood. I unzip my bag and pull out some of the few items of clothing I own and change into them, testing my muscles as I stretch, my mind swimming about what I should do next.
I’ve had doubts about finding Jasper ever since he didn’t come for me six years ago, and they’ve only been compounded since things have gone so horribly awry for me since leaving the home. But when you hold onto something so tightly for twelve years it’s hard to let it go. Maybe impossible. He’s still all I want in this whole world. If he doesn’t want me around, he’ll have to tell me himself.
If you’re intrigued click here for The Girl Who Would Be King Chapters 17 – 20 or follow this link to my blog to read it online in full, or to download the first 20 Chapters in full (they’re on the short side!)
And if you like what you read, don’t forget to visit the Kickstarter and pledge – only 6 days left to get the limited edition hardcover (and more!)
This is the last week that pages will be going up on CSBG, but there will still be another week of pages on 1979 Semifinalist. Thanks for indulging me everyone – and for all of the support!
I’d like to open today’s column up a bit to your thoughts as I ask the question “Is it worth it?”
And when I say “it” I mean, is speaking out online and trying to move the needle on issues that are sometimes unpopular worth it in the end? We’ve had an excellent (and rather extreme) example lately in the case of Anita Sarkeesian’s Tropes vs. Women in Video Games Kickstarter, which I visited relatively early on and was weighing whether or not to fund (I was leaning toward yes when her Kickstarter went viral). But Sarkeesian’s project went viral and earned an unprecedented $158k+ (against her original $6k goal) primarily because the haters, misogynists, creeps, “ole boys club”, and trolls came out in force against her to a staggering (and frankly, horribly alarming) degree. Thus Sarkeesian’s project became a big news item, earned a lot more coverage, and a whole lotta people (nearly 7k) cried foul in the form of support – and cold hard cash.
Berks County, Pennsylvania
The car hits the tree going at least forty miles an hour and I go through the windshield like I’ve been tossed gently by a hurricane. I land thirty yards away from the car on some bright green grass, barely missing the tree directly in my path.
Everything is black for a while.
When I open my eyes again all I see are these vivid green leaves floating casually above me, and I wonder for just a moment about their casual ways, trying to understand why certain parts of life just don’t care about the other parts.
And then the smell hits me.
It isn’t gentle like the leaves, but assaulting and violent. It fills my nostrils with the same metallic flavor that fills your mouth when you suck on your thumb after cutting it way too deep, when the blood is dark and black, not pinkish like a party. My head rolls back under me as my chest heaves up, toward the green leaves above me, and I turn my head to the side to throw up. Spitting into the grass and leaning up on my elbow I squeeze my eyes closed as tightly as I can, afraid of what I’m going to see when I finally have to open them. Tears leak out the sides of my eyes, hot and wet on my cheeks. The smell of my parents’ blood makes me throw up again and again until there’s nothing left and I’m just coughing and breathing hard, my small ribcage ready to break with the pressure.