I didn’t grow up reading comics.
I loved chapter books, the longer the better. My mom introduced me to classics like To Kill a Mockingbird, The Hobbit and A Wrinkle in Time. Comics always seemed….less than. Comics were the things that my male cousins read and then play-acted, and it was always the same rotation of characters: Batman, Spiderman, Superman, Robin, Joker, Wolverine, Magneto. The one time I did play with them, there was an elongated moment when they had to figure out which “girl character” I could be and ended up with X-Men’s Rogue, which meant I couldn’t touch anybody — an attribute, having not read the comics, I didn’t understand and found excruciatingly boring.
As I passed from childhood into adolescence and young adulthood, I actively avoided comics. From what I saw in bookshops and heard in conversations, my conclusion was that comic books held nothing more than overused tropes, oversized boobs, and underwhelming narratives. Read More