Best friends Amber, Tiffany, Michelle and Courtney perform as princesses at their local theme park, The Enchanted Park (which has seen better days) and are looking forward to their futures. However, as obstacles keep them from their perceived dreams, our heroines in Monica Gallagher‘s Part-Time Princesses (Oni Press, 2015), realize they can use their strengths and abilities to save their park from those who want to destroy it.

It’s refreshing to read a comic about teenage girls that’s not focused on them being misfits. Although our heroines are popular, they’re more Clueless than Mean Girls — they can be a bit self-involved but they’re well-meaning and each has her own motivations and interests, from the ambitious, smart Michelle to the dramatic Tiffany

Gallagher has a wonderful eye for fashion and the way teen girls actually interact. Each girl looks unique — down to her body type and style (Courtney is athletic and sporty, wannabe model Amber is tall and graceful). While Gallagher’s backgrounds are sparse, they focus the attention on her strong ability to convey personality and emotions through body language and facial expressions. The girls not only feel like friends to each other — they feel like girls you know.

While the story mostly proceeds with the expected beats as each girl finds her true abilities, there are a few curves — an unexpected romance, a hidden conspiracy — that keep the plot from feeling too obvious. Gallagher’s gift for the playful rhythms of life keep her storytelling strong and fresh.

As much as I love comics about girls and women in extraordinary circumstances (whether it’s real life or fantastic), it’s refreshing to read a graphic novel that’s about normal girls doing mostly normal things. I would love to see more comics like Part-Time Princesses in the world.

Digital review copy provided by Oni Press.

But my one thought after reading it was “That could’ve been a Minx book.”

An imprint of DC, Minx launched in 2007 and was dead by 2008, but there were problems as soon as it was announced. The name Minx never bugged me — it was cute and just salacious enough — but the lack of female creators was an issue. Minx had too much to prove and had to do it too quickly.

But Minx ultimately faced a bigger problem than just skepticism: The books just weren’t very good.

The majority of the 12 titles follow this extremely set format: An introspective, outcast teenage girl flirts with danger and boys before learning some very important life lesson, delivered with some moralistic overtones. They play a bit too safely, shying away from any real issues. For a moment in Confessions of a Blabbermouth, there was an implication of possible sexual abuse before it was quickly resolved into a “twist” that had been obviously almost from the beginning. Emiko Superstar isn’t the worst of the bunch, but when compared to the devastating and beautiful Skim, also written by Mariko Tamaki, it feels obvious the Minx editors didn’t trust their audience’s ability to handle anything that could be perceived as “dark.”

If this was just one or two of the titles, it could be forgiven. But when faced with about seven titles that all share what is more or less the same character and the same plot dressed up in different ways, it begins to feel a bit paternalistic and tiresome.

Not every one is like this, though. Ross Campbell‘s Water Baby is refreshingly crude and physical and has teenagers that actually act and talk like teenagers. The New York Four, by Brian Wood and Ryan Kelly, has its issues, but at least felt like something teenage girls would want to read. I don’t know where Aaron Alexovich‘s Kimmie66 was originally pitched to, but with its twisty sci-fi story about identity, it’s definitely the oddball of the bunch (and is perhaps the most interesting because of it).

But I think beyond issue of repetitive plot structure, what bothered me the most about the Minx books is that they’re all basically a waste of good talent.

The editors had a good eye at hiring creators who appealed to young women but then buried the exact things that made them appealing to that audience.

Jim Rugg is a phenomenal artist, and while his work on both of the Plain Janes books is attractive enough, it lacks the kinetic, playful energy of his Street Angel. Both Andi Watson and Derek Kirk Kim are poetic, thoughtful writers, but Clubbing and Good As Lily suffer from the lack of their art. For the most part, there’s very little chemistry between the writers and the artists. These books feel like work for hire and it shows.

Still, there’s a part of me that admires Minx not for what it ended up as, but for what it wanted to be. Minx was definitely an attempt to capture the young female readers of manga, but I think it provided a point of transition for publishers to realize this was an audience worth catering to. I can’t think of too many graphic novels aimed specifically at teenage girls before Minx. I can think of way too many that have come out since then.

I don’t think it’s quite right to say that Minx opened the door for those graphic novels. But, at the very least, I think Minx deserves some credit for making publishers realize that there was a door worth opening.

Near Miss is a semi-regular feature that will be appearing on Comicsgirl throughout 2013-2014. This project is sponsored by Big Planet Comics.

(I tracked down Whorf a few years ago and talked to her about all of this. For more background, please read Remembering BoHoS: A conversation with Maggie Whorf. There’s no need to repeat all of that here.)

Does BoHoS hold up? No, not really. Whorf had a good grasp on what it was like to be a teenager at the time, and her stand-in lead, Catherine Wheal, provided an easy entry point for readers (you know, if you were a teenage girl who could relate to a protagonist with blue hair) and that carries over pretty well, but jagged, technicolor art by Byron Penaranda and the dated references to Hanson and MTV’s Tabitha Soren place this firmly in the late ’90s. This is not one for the ages.

I actually read BoHoS at the time (the publishers reached out to me — an early web address for Comicsgirl is actually listed in the back of issue #2) and it may be the only Near Miss comic I read as it was actually being released. It’s far from perfect, but it’s still a comic I have a lot of affection and appreciation for. There was nothing else like it at the time and I’d say there really hasn’t been anything like it since.

True to Whorf’s zinester roots, the back of each issue had essays, reviews and poetry from other teenage girls as well as links to web sites of interest (this was the late ’90s — the Internet was still young for many of us). I liked that beyond the main story, it just wasn’t about Whorf. It was about other teenage girls that may not feel like they fit in and it wanted to give them a voice.

And certainly, teenage girls have always found places to share their thoughts, but I do wonder what shape BoHoS would’ve taken in today. I look at Tavi Gevinson and Rookie (and the fact that comics publisher Drawn & Quarterly was the one to put out Rookie: Yearbook One) and I just wonder what would’ve happened if Whorf had been in a world where she could’ve created a blog instead of a zine.

Which isn’t to say BoHoS was ahead of its time. It was very much of its time and not really worth reading beyond it being a piece of comics history. Still, it continues to delight me that nearly 15 years ago, a teenage girl got to write a comic that was published by a major publisher.

I think that continues to be an important thing.

Near Miss is a semi-regular feature that will be appearing on Comicsgirl throughout 2013. This project is sponsored by Big Planet Comics.

As much as Raina Telgemeier‘s Drama (Graphix/Scholastic, 2012) is about crushes and young love, it’s also about the theater and the community of friends it creates.

Our cute, purple-haired protagonist, Callie, has found her passion early. She loves theater — but refreshingly, her heart is backstage. It’s great to see a young girl character in a story about theater that isn’t interested in being on stage. She’s too busy making big plans for her set design and puzzling out special effects. She’s not toiling away in obscurity waiting to be discovered; instead, she knows exactly what she wants to be doing and does it well. She has her moments of self-doubt and confusion (usually involving her relationships with boys!) but her confidence in herself is delightful.

I loved the realism of Callie’s relationships with the boys in her life — her initial boldness with Greg and her tentative affection toward Jesse as well as her playful and sweet friendship with Justin. Equally great is how she relates to the girls in the book — while there is a bit of conflict with her best friend Liz, they’re clearly best friends. Even Bonnie, who’d be a “mean girl” in another book isn’t presented to be that much of a threat but just someone who runs in a different social circle.

I don’t think Telgemeier’s art has ever been stronger.  She seems to have pulled in a few more manga-inspired touches — big, expressive eyes and exaggerated facial expressions. As sharp and perceptive as her writing always is, much of the joy of this book is in the silent panels. Her ability to communicate complex emotions, from Callie’s joy, concentration and worry, and quiet moments with deceptively simple lines is unrivaled. Telgemeier makes comics look so effortless.

While my advance reader copy was mostly in black and white, the few pages of color by Gurihiru that I did get went far to set the mood of this book. I can’t wait to see the whole thing in color.

Perhaps the greatest joy of Drama is how perceptive an eye and ear Telgemeier has for kids of this age. She never talks down to them. One of my major complaints about a lot of middle grade and young adult novels is that the characters seem to act like an adult’s conception of what kids and teens should be like rather than how they actually are.  In some ways, Callie and her friends may seem a bit older than their 12 and 13 years, but in other ways, they’re exactly how I remember being at that age, just with more computers and text messages. You don’t realize how young you are: you end up being a strange mix of innocent and perceptive, smart and awkward. These are kids figuring out who they want to be and that’s something that’s easy to relate to at any age.

And to me, that’s the greatest takeaway of Drama: how much of myself, even now, I saw in it. I’d love to tell Callie and the kids her age reading about her that these things get easier — that boys stop being confusing and that everything goes the way you want. But I can’t. What I can say, though, is that if you believe in and admire Callie, you’ll have a pretty good head start on the rest of us.

Teen Boat is mostly a typical teenager — he has a platonic best friend, Joey, and is in love with the exchange student Niña Pinta Santa Maria. He tries to impress the cool kids and he gets into trouble. He runs for class president and gets a part-time job. And yes, quite often he turns into a boat.

Roman and Green clearly had a so much fun making this — there’s a giddiness to the writing and the goal seemed mostly to make each other laugh first. They throw in pirates just because, why not? The characters travel to Italy mostly so Teen Boat can fall in love with a gondola (and the silent montage sequence of the date between Teen Boat — in his boat form — and the gondola is probably one of the funniest things I’ve ever seen). There are explosions and mysteries and monster trucks. The writing is quick and clever and Green’s art has an animator’s eye for character design and expression. The rich primary colors do give a new dimension to the art that wasn’t present in the minis.

Despite all the references that are packed in here, Roman and Green just use those as a starting point. They provide a bit of a backdrop and texture, but the book doesn’t rely on them for its humor. If you’re too young to be familiar with them (or just don’t catch them), the book is still a delight.

I have one tiny complaint, though, but I want to emphasize it’s tiny. I don’t think the new material has quite the same energy as the material that appeared in the minicomics. I think this is probably only something you’d noticed if you’ve read the minis and that’s not to say I was at all disappointed. It’s all such great fun I just almost felt like I needed to complain about something.

Buy this book! Read it! Laugh! Tell your friends! I absolutely love that things like Teen Boat! exist in this world.

And just to link to it again, here’s Abby Denson‘s Teen Boat! song:

Uglies: Shay’s Story
Buy at Powell’s

I absolutely love Scott Westerfeld‘s Uglies trilogy. It is actually one of my favorite dystopian stories, actually. The general premise works — who, as an awkward adolescent, wouldn’t want to be turned gorgeous and get to party all the time?

While Westerfeld’s ideas aren’t necessarily the most innovative, he had a fresh and relevant take on them, and ultimately, the books are a beautiful metaphor for growing up and finding (and accepting) your own power.

While I basically knew a comics adaptation of them was inevitable, like any beloved material, I approached the announcement of it with some skepticism. Two things, though, reassured me — that Devin Grayson would be leading the adaptation and that it was going to be told from Shay’s perspective (who was the best friend/rival of the main character, Tally). That it wasn’t going to be a straight retelling made it more intriguing to me.

The manga-esque art by Steven Cummings did not, though. I don’t think manga-style art was a bad choice for this story — in a lot of ways I think it suits it — but the early images I saw just felt a little generic.

I’m giving all of this as background to say: I went into reading this with quite a lot of baggage. Uglies: Shay’s Story (Del Rey, 2012) had a lot to live up to and a lot to prove.

And it did both things. Mostly.

If the title didn’t tip you off, without a doubt, this is Shay’s story. I like that this adaptation shows things that were only mentioned in the novel. Shay’s motivations are much clearer, and at least this early in the story, she’s much bolder and more savvy than Tally. Even though much is made about Shay not wanting to get the surgery that will turn her “pretty,” it feels in character. Shay is thoughtful and willing to face life, even if it means hardship. She took a while to get there, but her willingness to not take things at face-value makes her intriguing.

While I was never anti-Shay — she is nearly as important to the trilogy as Tally is — I think I’m going to like seeing her journey and her perspective on these events.

Grayson and Westerfeld do justice to Shay’ story while still making it a compatible companion to the Uglies novel. I was happy that this didn’t feel at all redundant.

All those things are great. But I do have complaints.

I enjoy the early scenes with Shay, certainly, as she and her friends play tricks on the Pretties and learn about the people who’ve set up their own society outside the cities. I also like that the sinister Special Circumstances is much more present from the very beginning. However, these parts take up the bulk of the graphic novel and I feel like Shay’s experiences out in the Smoke are kind of shortchanged. The conflict between her and Tally also feels rushed toward the end, almost as if the page count was quickly approaching and the story needed to be wrapped up.

While Cummings’ art grew on me and he certainly has a dynamic eye for page layouts and action — the hoverboard scenes are fun and full of movement — I feel like the character design suffered. No one really looked distinctive to me and I don’t think there was enough differentiation between the pre-operation characters and the post-operation characters. Yes, I get that the “uglies” aren’t necessarily ugly, but everyone in this book was just a little too good-looking for it to work. With a story that’s so much about appearances, this was distracting.

Still, I’d like to continue following Shay through the next two books. And I realize I’m due to read the Uglies trilogy again.

Interior art taken from Scott Westerfeld’s blog.

Ivy
Buy at Powell’s

I’ve been rewatching My So-Called Life on Netflix streaming.

When that show first aired, I was just the right age for it (a freshman in high school to Angela Chase’s sophomore) but now, I see very different things in it. I love the beautifully troubled Rayanne more than I used to — I think she probably became someone amazing — and whereas the teenage me found Jordan to be mysterious and intriguing, I now see how ridiculously unworthy of Angela he is. Also, poor Brian Krakow.

Now, while talking about My So-Called Life is plenty of fun (as is the ’90s fashion. Let’s bring some of that back!), I think really, stories about teenagers are really just a matter of perspective.

I liked a good deal of Sarah Oleksyk‘s Ivy (Oni Press, 2011) but I also think I see it in a different way than I would have if I was Ivy’s age.

Ivy is an artistic senior looking to escape her life in small-town Maine. She lives with her hard-working single mother and has fallen in with the other misfits at her high school if she really doesn’t like them. After meeting a trouble boy at an art school fair, Ivy tries to take her life into her own hands, with mixed results.

Oleksyk’s art is approachable and open — Ivy’s short hair gives her a punky edge while her nondescript facial features make her someone who doesn’t stand out. You went to high school with dozens of girls like this. Maybe you were one. Ivy’s friends, while a bit more distinctive, still look like people I knew (or at least knew people who were like them). It makes the story feel intimate and personal as well as universal.

Still, the dramatic turn — Ivy runs away with Josh after being suspended for school — feels a little false. It’s not that I don’t believe teenagers do this, but nothing in Ivy’s character really seemed like it was something she would do. The adults feel pretty one-dimensional. Ivy’s math teacher has it out for her for no real reason I can discern, and Ivy’s mother’s anger toward her feels misplaced. I can understand that Ivy’s mother wants a better life for her daughter, certainly, but I think she’s presented as being overly harsh toward her daughter.

But like I said, it’s maybe a matter of perspective. Oleksyk’s sympathies are with Ivy through and through, so of course the adults are going to be against her. Of course it’s a reasonable thing that Ivy would run away and that Josh would turn on her once they slept together. It’s a teenager’s world — everything is mostly black and white. People are good or bad and there’s not much in between.

The gray washes and Oleksyk’s strong lines do give Ivy the appropriate mood and her ability to express emotion both through quiet images and exaggerated drawings is admirable. She also composes beautiful pages, with borders closing in her characters or isolating them in open spaces. I have no complaints about her abilities as a comic artist.

I will love to see what Sarah Oleksyk does next. I just hope she leaves Ivy behind.

I was never really a Spider-Man fan so I don’t know that much about Mary Jane. She has, however, always struck me as your basic pretty girl character — she only has a personality when it suits the comic. And as you know, she’s been ditched in favor of Gwen Stacy as the love interest in the upcoming reboot of the Spider-Man film franchise.

But that brings me to Mary Jane: Homecoming and Spider-Man Loves Mary Jane: Sophomore Jinx. These, if Wikipedia is to be believed, are more or less part of the same series although they don’t feel all that connected to me, honestly (granted, though, these two parts aren’t directly continuous, so I have missed some things in between the two).

Mary Jane: Homecoming Buy on Amazon.com

In Mary Jane: Homecoming, Mary Jane is dealing with her relationship with Harry Osbourn as well as Flash’s crush on her and troubles with her friend Liz. It’s all pretty typical high school stuff — Harry is aimlessly angry and he and Mary Jane just seem to be together because they are. Liz and MJ have a conflicted friendship — they like each other, sure, mostly because they’ve been friends forever, but they’re competitive with each other, too. Oh, and Spider-Man shows up and fights some bad guys a couple of times, but that’s pretty inconsequential (except MJ does feel a growing connection to him — and to Peter Parker).

In writer Sean McKeever‘s hands, the story’s twists have the right amount of drama without ever becoming over-the-top. These kids are just trying to figure themselves out as well as each other. The shifting alliances and confusing relationships feel natural. He has a wonderful grasp of how teenagers behave without being condescending. Takeshi Miyazawa‘s art is cute and soft and is just manga-like enough to make it distinctive from a superhero title. I love the eye for detail he has, from MJ and Liz’s updos for the homecoming dance to the emotional glances characters give each other.

Spider-Man Loves Mary Jane: Sophomore Jinx Buy on Amazon.com

Spider-Man Loves Mary Jane: Sophomore Jinx feels a bit different. It has another creative team of Terry Moore and Craig Rousseau and everything feels a bit bigger — more drama, more action, more conflict. Here, MJ is just starting her sophomore year of high school (hence the title) and struggles to find her place after someone starts some cruel rumors about her.

I don’t think anyone would accuse Moore of not being able to write women well. Even when Strangers in Paradise began getting more and more convoluted, it was always clear his female characters were fully realized. He does less well with teenage girls, though. This isn’t particularly bad, but he doesn’t seem to quite grasp the intricacies of teenage relationships (and maybe I’m wrong, but I’m almost sure no teenager was appending “not” to the end of a sentence to make it a negative in 2008). Rousseau’s art is stylized and has an exaggerated, animated feel to it, but also comes across as a bit more generic. I don’t think he gets to shine here.

Neither of these books are bad. I liked Homecoming more than Sophomore Jinx, but I liked both. But I was left with one major question: Who was this title for?

Now, I ended up with them because I am interested in this sort of thing (you know, comics aimed at girls). Homecoming was a dollar at a comic con and a friend gave me Sophomore Jinx because he ended up with it and figured it had a better home with me.

But other than me, who was this intended for? I can’t really picture the audience for this title.

Mary Jane is presented as likeable, sweet and smart, but she’s also one of the popular kids. She has some problems at home, sure, but a lot of that just feels thrown in to keep her from seeming too perfect.

I can only use myself as an example, but as a teen — even as a preteen — I wouldn’t have been interested in Mary Jane. I was a misfit and I didn’t hang out with cheerleaders or football players. I wasn’t interested in reading about them. And I’d guess that a lot of teen girls that are into comics wouldn’t really either.

(I did see some girls excited by Archie comics, so maybe I’m wrong.)

While I was critical of a lot the Minx titles for feeling too young for their intended audience, they were mostly about girls I would’ve wanted to read about at that age. I could see a 12-year-old enjoying Homecoming that her loving father (or even older brother) bought for her, but I do think Sophomore Jinx, while still pretty innocent, is probably too old for her. I don’t think any older teen girls who like comics would’ve sought this out on their own. It’s possible I’m wrong there, though.

I think Marvel has done some interesting things aimed at women (even before last year’s push, and even when they’ve put stupid covers on them) but I’m not sure why they felt like Mary Jane needed to be its go-to teen girl character, other than the company thought she was (or would be) “popular” following the Spider-Man movies.

Which I guess means we can look forward to some comics starring Gwen Stacy.

The War at Ellsmere
Buy at Amazon.com

Along with Raina Telgemeier and Hope Larson, Faith Erin Hicks is part of a new wave of female creators making really awesome comics aimed at younger female readers (vaguely “young adult” but their work tends to cover a range from probably 12-16 or so).

I think Hicks’ Zombies Calling is utterly delightful, but this month, I’m going with The War at Ellsmere (but do pick both of them up). Ellsmere follows Juniper, who has transferred to Ellsmere Academy and immediately makes an enemy of the school’s queen bee, Emily. She find an ally in her roommate, Cassie, who is as quirky and awkward as she is. Throughout, Hicks’ bold, cartoony art — her characters are all big eyes and smirky expressions — creates a wonderful portrait of female adolescence and how there’s really not that much separating the popular girls from the unpopular ones. Maybe you didn’t go to boarding school like the characters here, but you’ll find something to relate to.

This is one of those books that I don’t know why more people aren’t talking about it. It’s a wonderful example of an awesome comic for teenage girls. Or anyone, honestly.

Hicks is someone to watch and I’m overjoyed to see she has two works-in-progress for First Second Books. And if her Wolverine short story isn’t enough to make you love her work entirely, I don’t think I want to talk to you anymore.

The Dreamer

High school senior Bea is beautiful, talented and rich. A theater lover, she’s a shoe-in to play Juliet this year and she’s finally caught the eye of hunky football star Ben. Everything seems to be going well for her.

But she’s having these dreams where she’s in 1776, in the thick of the Revolutionary War.

Lora Innes‘ The Dreamer: The Consequence of Nathan Hale (IDW, 2009) introduces us to Bea, her friends and her story. In her waking life, she’s far from being a poor little rich girl or anything as cliche as that — rather, she’s playful and popular, teasing her friends and tormenting her cousin. In her dream life, she becomes taken with the heroic Alan Warren.

Innes’ art is gorgeous. Her teenagers are drawn to look like teenagers and her faces are bright and beautiful. She’s as capable of creating action-packed battle scenes as she is drawing more intimate, quite moments between two of the characters. Innes also seems to have a lot of shoujo manga’s appreciation for clothes (look — it’s a comic about teenage girls. There are going to be — and should be — many different outfits here).

But as much as I love the art, it would just be eye candy without the story. Bea is likable and accessible. She has a little bit of a fantasy life (since most of us aren’t rich and beautiful) but she’s also capable and can think on her feet. While she makes a few asides while in the 18th century, she adapts quickly to the rules of that time period while still remaining strong. Innes has obviously done her research and the scenes in the past feel as authentic as the modern-day ones

You can read the whole thing online (the book collects issues 1-6; Innes’ site also has 7-9 with more coming) but I love having the collection. I’m completely dazzled by the comic and I can’t believe I haven’t read it before.

And I think you should stop what you’re doing and go read it right now.