The four technicians took their places and checked the fittings on their gloves. Above them, the solar model glowed orange even through their tinted masks. Millions of miles away, their movements would be precisely mirrored by the massive drones deployed to catch the runaway debris. They were only going to get one chance. Even a single spent fuel rod or chunk of hull reaching the Sun’s core would create a chain reaction that would doom the solar system. They got to work. When it was over, and they’d saved the world, they celebrated with the most epic high-five ever recorded.
Thanks for reading! You can support me and find links to all my other work via my Linktree!
Mission control was filled with tension as the space probe launched. All systems showed green. There was an air of heady anticipation as the instruments powered up and began to gather data. They had spent years of work and vast sums to get the probe into space, but the data it would provide would revolutionize astrophysics. Readings started coming in, and the scientists’ faces fell. They made no sense. The probe, they concluded, must be faulty. Elsewhere, far beyond human perception, dwelt the Cosmic Giants. “Hey, want to see me juggle?” One asked, and scooped up a trio of galaxies.
Thanks for reading! You can support me and find links to all my other work via my Linktree!
Rockstar and Softboy Written & Drawn by Sina Grace Lettering by Rus Wooton Published by Image Comics
Rockstar & Softboy
The Skinny: Sina Grace’s latest oversized one-shot is a paen to queer friendship mixed wit and wackiness.
I was not sure what I was getting into with Rockstar and Softboy, but I’m glad I picked it up. On the surface, it is an autobiographical slice-of-life comic. When Softboy is having trouble dealing with the stress of his day job, Rockstar convinces him to throw a party. With the help of their shapeshifting, talking cat.
Inspired by his real-life friendship with fellow comics creator Josh Trujillo, This oversized, super-gay one-shot story deftly blends the fantastic and the mundane to create a lovely tribute to the power of queer friendship. Grace’s writing is lovely and constantly surprising. This is certainly a book full of surprises, and I found new delights with each turn of the page. His madcap and unabashedly queer energy infuses the book and render his characters in a charming light even when it highlights their flaws. By the time the book reached the inevitable Sailor Moon parody, I was giggling in my chair, drawing curious stares from my husband.
The art is whimsical and transformative, keeping pace with the story and helping to ground the reader in the off-the-wall antics.
At a hefty sixty-seven pages, this book is a bit too long and a bit too short for the story it is telling. I would’ve like to have spent either a little bit more time with these characters, or maybe pared the story down a bit. There are quite a few data pages and explainers mixed in, which occasionally break the story’s flow. Cramming this story into a single issue also raises the price tag, so I’m not sure if I can recommend this book if you’re unsure if you’ll like it. But if you like queer slice-of-life stories that also take big swings, this book is for you.
At the end of the day, this book isn’t going to be everyone’s cup of tea, and at $8.99, I can’t recommend that you give it a try if you’re unsure if you’ll like it. But the world could use more unironic stories that believe in the power of friendship and being your true self. And also the power of power bottoms. You can purchase it online or at Your Local Comics Shop!
She climbed through the abandoned train station, the cat always just a few steps ahead. The platform had a tree growing out of it, and the tracks were obscured by underbrush. She heard the whistle and watched the train pull in, unhindered by the plant life covering the tracks. The train was an antique, painted white and green. She couldn’t make out the destination. The doors opened and the cat sauntered onboard. She followed and took a seat with a threadbare cushion. She looked out the window and saw the ghosts of the station’s past waving as they steamed away.
Thanks for reading! You can support me and find links to all my other work via my Linktree!
She received the ornate silver key with her other regalia on the day she became queen and asked her seneschal what it unlocked. “Why, nothing, Your Majesty. It is symbolic.” “The key to the kingdom, as it were?” He chuckled. “Quite right, ma’am.” As her reign progressed, she couldn’t get the old key out of her mind. She took to wearing it looped on a chain and wandered the corridors at night, looking for a keyhole. It was three months before she found the door in the lowest depths of the palace basements and discovered how deep her kingdom went.
Thanks for reading! You can support me and find links to all my other work via my Linktree!
The wizard’s cat was on fire. It didn’t seem distressed. It just sat placidly and groomed itself. But the guest watched as pale flames and smoke rose from its back. The wizard returned to the sitting room, the tea tray following behind with military precision. “Do you know that your familiar is on fire?” The mage smiled indulgently. “That’s just an experiment. Elemental pets are going to be the next big thing.” “Elemental pets?” “Oh, yes. I have an outstanding grass dog growing out back as well.” The cat rubbed up against the back of a chair, setting it alight.
Thanks for reading! You can support me and find links to all my other work via my Linktree!
The swordswoman’s manager threw down the advanced copy of the magazine in disgust. “Your form is all wrong,” he said. “And those clothes. They’re so impractical!” Aubrey rolled her eyes as she practiced with a pell. “It was a cover shoot for Parry, Leroy. Of course it was posed. And what’s wrong with my outfit?” “You’re an idol to millions of young girls. I worry you’ll give them bad ideas.” She made a series of cuts with her practice sword, then pivoted, stopping the blade centimeters from the man’s throat. “What, you don’t think I could do this in heels?”
Thanks for reading! You can support me and find links to all my other work via my Linktree!
Every working girl had a story about the Prodigal Son, the billionaire who returned home from his youth abroad not long before the city got weird. He would hire girls to get dressed to the nine and come to his stately manor, and they would while away the evening playing canasta with the butler. He brought girls out to his yacht, only to disappear halfway through the cruise. Everyone said he was hiding something, but the money was good, so nobody said anything. Salome decided to uncover his secret. It was the start of her journey to become a superhero, too.
Thanks for reading! You can support me and find links to all my other work via my Linktree!
“I’m telling you, it’s a monster,” the fighter said, raising his axe toward a shape in the gloom. The ranger sighed. They’d never get through the forest at this rate. “That’s a mushroom growing on a dead tree. Don’t they have fungi under that mountain of yours?” “Not ones that are six feet tall with claws!” “Those are branches. It’s not going to attack you. This forest is perfectly safe. Ah!” The snare trap circled the elf’s foot and sent him hurtling skyward. “Safe, you say?” “I got distracted. Now cut me down before whoever set this thing shows up!”
Thanks for reading! You can support me and find links to all my other work via my Linktree!
The witch began the summoning. She swung her ritual stone, with its glimmering silver chain, in all directions. The room filled with miasmic haze. Her grandmother said all a real witch needed was two sticks and a bad attitude. But she wasn’t just a witch. She was a performer. Three figures emerged, lanky and wolf-like with skulls for faces. They bowed to her and went to their instruments. “Let’s all try and stay on key today,” she said as she picked up her guitar. They weren’t the best musicians in Faerie, but they made one hell of an album cover.
Thanks for reading! You can support me and find links to all my other work via my Linktree!
Hugh J. O'Donnell 