Oh, how I loves me some Alex Robinson funny books. His first graphic novel, Box Office Poison, was a revelation (forget the mutoids in tights, if I get to be somebody from a comic I want to be Stephen Gaedel). Now, finally, after a four year wait, I have in my hands tonight all 350 pages of Tricked, a tale, it says here, that "follows the lives of six people--a reclusive rock legend, a heartbroken waitress, a counterfeiter, an obsessive crank, a lost daughter, and a backstabbing lover--whose lives are unconnected until an act of violence brings them spiraling in on each other." I have student work to critique and, from the other side of the desk, student work to produce. I have some freelance assignments that need polishing and some proposals that need propositioning. So I'm only gonna read the first half tonight.
Probably.
Two more things to note. First, the image here (even if you click on it to see an enlarged version, which you can) doesn't do even a tiny bit of justice to the cover, with its hypnotic background paintings by Bwana Spoons backing up Robinson's always deft characterization. Design is by Robinson and Brett Warnock. Second, you can buy Robinson's books--gorgeous editions from Top Shelf Productions all--straight from the man himself. Just click right here.
Tomorrow, we ramp up to the next "virtual collection" entry by whining about the desire to have every story you write "contribute to the conversation," and the angst that desire produces in light of reading your own juvenilia. Then again, why should I subject you good people to the whining and the angst, when the juvenilia has a guy parallel parking a Peterbilt in the very first paragraph. Plus, Elvis.