I’ve always understood that these books aren’t necessarily for me, but for that friend who keeps expressing interest in comics but balks when I try to hand her a graphic novel (this is a metaphorical friend for me — you, however, may have one). This friend is well suited to an anthology — if there’s something she doesn’t like, well, it’s over pretty quickly.

But I think within the past couple of years, series editor Jessica Abel and Matt Madden have figured out the voice they want these books to have. I do think guest editor Neil Gaiman did a good job with last year’s collection, but looking back, there was some of a sense of “Look at all these hip and cool indie creators!” about it. He made fun and thoughtful choices and I would’ve gladly given it to a friend newly interested in comics. I just didn’t need to own it myself.

In Alison Bechdel‘s hands, The Best American Comics 2011 (2011, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt), on the other hand, is a book I would absolutely own (as well as, of course, give it to my friend interested in comics).

I love Bechdel already, but she absolutely won me over in her introduction to this collection where she pointed out how few women these collections have contained (and calls herself out for not doing that great of a job on that part — there’s a chart and everything) and also points out she didn’t manage to include any black creators in this collection. I admire her willingness to show the shortcoming in terms of diversity of this volume.

I admire the diversity of selections Bechdel has picked. Yes, of course creators like Chris Ware and Jaime Hernandez show up here, but so do Kate Beaton and Gabrielle Bell, who both deserve to be included just as much. There were even some creators I wasn’t familiar with, such as Kevin Mutch and Angie Wang. As many comics that have passed through my life in the past year, it’s a thrill to see something new.

I also love Bechdel’s willingness to embrace and showcase the weirder side of indie comics, from Michael DeForge‘s grotesquely colorful “Queen” to the excerpt from Dash Shaw‘s Body World. Surprisingly though, the book never feels alienating or like there’s an attempt to be shocking. There’s definitely some dark subject matter and imagery, like Gabby Schulz (Ken Dahl)’s “New Year’s, 2004” and Julia Gfrörer‘s “Fear of Fire” but those stories are balanced with lighter ones, like Joey Allison Sayers‘ “Pet Cat” and Jillian Tamaki‘s “Domestic Men of Mystery.”

As all collections go, not everything here is going to appeal to everyone, but I think that’s partially by design. Still, Bechdel has selected comics that are both accessible and representative of where independent comics are now.

The Best American Comics 2011 is beautifully and thoughtfully compiled collection of comics. Forget about that friend you usually buy these collections for. Buy this one for yourself. (But then maybe let said friend borrow it when you’re done.)

Advance reading copy provided through NetGalley.

Marvel is beginning a year-long initiative in 2010 about comics for and created by women. Even before I read about this, I had some thought in this direction: Great comics by women, worthy of being read by any comics fan, new or old.

On the first Wednesday of each month for the rest of 2010, I will profile a title that had a strong contribution by a woman, whether she was artist, writer or both. These won’t be reviews as much as it is a call to pick up these books and read them. If they’re on the list, I like them and I think they’re good. And I think you’ll like them too.

La Perdida Buy at Amazon.com

For January, I am starting with Jessica Abel‘s La Perdida (Pantheon Books, 2006).

I’d really like to say I picked this book for some specific reason — like it relates to the New Year because it deals with trying to start over, trying to find one’s self, or even because it’s really cold here right now so being in Mexico seems like a nice thought — but I didn’t. I really just picked it at random. But those reasons do work pretty well.

Carla travels to Mexico to try to reconnect with her father but mostly she’s there to try to find herself. She ditches her community of expatriate friends to ingratiate herself in Mexican culture. While she’s busy more-or-less playing tourist, real life intervenes. Carla isn’t always likable and she often gets in her own way with her naivete. She’s fun to watch, though.

Abel’s art reminds me, appropriately, of a travel sketch journal — her drawings are done in thick pen and ink and have a hurried feel, as if she needed to record events before they slipped away. There’s a beautiful immediacy to this book that’s incredibly satisfying and poignant.

Yes, this is maybe more a book you give your socially-conscious friends rather than your X-Men-reading friends, but I see nothing wrong with offering it to both. It’s imperfect, sure — some plot points felt a little rushed to me — but like all great literature, it’s thought-provoking. I’m actually going to hand my copy off to a friend to see what he thinks of it.