Indy Comics Writer

Well, Christmas is over, and I can happily report that a trip to my local chain bookstore is on the horizon.

Yes, I received that most coveted of all gifts on Christmas morning: the bookstore gift card.

I know that some folks when they need to blow off steam head to the bars. Others jump off bridges or shoot themselves. Me? I go to the bookstore. I don’t always buy anything; In fact, I leave empty handed most of the time. But the big-chain bookstores — and they know who they are — are where I read most of my mainstream comics. You see, I don’t like to waste my precious bucks on Marvel and D.C.’s offerings when I can spend them instead on necessities, you know, baby food, gas, comic books from independent companies, the important stuff.

So tonight, I’ll head out to the chain store, find a seat and read through some comics by Brian Michael Bendis I’ve been meaning to read. I like Bendis’ writing, a lot. But I’m not quite as fond of his work with Marvel — outside of the consistently fun and witty Ultimate Spider-Man — as I am of his other work, such as Goldfish, Jinx and Sam and Twitch.

To me, a trip to the bookstore is a nice reward after a long and sometimes annoying Christmas season has come to a close. Besides, next week stands to be a busy week: We have friends coming from Texas. If it happens to snow in Chicago while they’re here, I’ll be busy pumping them with hot chocolate and coffee and wrapping them up in electric blankets. They’re not used to our “magical” Midwest weather.

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