Wrestling is in the middle of a quiet cultural renaissance. Sure, we’re not exactly seeing a return to the high-water marks of the 1980s or the Attitude Era of the late 1990s, but wrestling’s getting big again. One of the best ways to see how this particular form of entertainment is sparking the imagination is by looking at your local comic shop. Titles like Do a Powerbomb and Wrassle Castle have brought wrestling into the four-color world, but they’re just the tip of the iceberg in terms of the squared circle’s presence in comics. Ahoy Comics’ THE GIMMICK (Joanee Starer, Elena Gogou) is another great example of how well comics and wrestling can go together.
Pro wrestling and crime are more closely related than one might think. After all, the whole thing more or less got started as nothing more than a pretty elaborate con, and the rap sheets of some of the men and women who have been involved in the sport tell their own tale. Honestly, it’s a little surprising that more writers haven’t mined this particular vein, especially since it’s full of larger-than-life characters routinely putting their health on the line for the promise of what’s generally a pretty small payday.
What exactly does it mean to carry on a legacy? Does it matter who you’ve learned things from? Does it matter if it’s a family or cultural aspect versus something that you’ve picked up just by living your life? Do you have to know you’re doing it for things to count.
These are all questions that get asked by The Legend of the Night Owl #1. Or attempt to anyway because let’s be real getting an answer to those questions would probably break the world.
There are so many ways to tell a story. You can start at the beginning and make sure the reader know everything that’s going on. You can have a point of view character who learns things as an excuse to teach the reader what is going on. You can do it all as a flashback or memoir and have a different frame for everything.
Or you can just throw all of that out the window and trust that your audience understands the conventions of the genre you’re in and can fill in a lot of the blanks for themselves.
The new run of Savage Avengers by David Pepose (Scout’s Honor, The O.Z.) and Carlos Magno (Avengers Forever, Kang the Conqueror) at least feels like it’s going to be more of a team book than a team-up book. It certainly still centers on Conan, at least for now, but our first issue brings in a truly interesting team.
Regrets, we all have them. Whether it’s a typo noticed too late on a work email, a spoonful of salt in a cup of tea instead of sugar or a morning wasted trying to think of a third example for a throwaway bit at the start of a review, we all have things we wish we could go back and change. But what if you could go back and fix those mistakes? What if you could ensure you had the future you always dreamed of? And how much would you be willing to sacrifice to get it?
Reburn is set in a futuristic or alternative universe where AI, holograms and memory implants exist. We’re in the future baby! This is a dystopian story a la Brave New World: too shiny and everyone is just a bit too “unified.” There’s a giant pre-recorded hologram of their government leader that stands over the city at night, regaling the locals with her rhetoric. “We are one,” she says.
Scouting has always been a little weird to me. Even as a kid, I wondered what exactly all of this preparedness was going to be for. As a child of the suburbs, I wasn’t entirely convinced I would ever need to know how to tie a thousand types of knots or navigate through the woods with only my knowledge of woodcraft. Besides, all the made up words and loyalty rules seemed a little, you know, cult-y to me even at the time.
I come into Barbaric with a few things in mind:
Vault Comics is on top of their stuff and if I could easily pull it off I’d have the shop just get me all of their #1 issues
I love fantasy based stuff
The ax’s mouth is dripping blood, so we can assume it doesn’t ask for a well done steak. I’m guessing mid rare at the most