So I’m saying goodbye to the comics.
Over the last few months, I’ve been trying to reduce the clutter in my home. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t go full minimalist on my house, but I did get rid of anything that hasn’t been utilized in a year or so. Most of the comics have been sold.
But today is the difficult one. Today I’m posting the few series to which I’m emotionally attachment.
When I first got into comics, I was amazed at the strong feelings fans had for them, both positive and negative. I didn’t understand the level of anger and disappointment one could feel about a publisher’s choice. After all, they could always change their minds again, right? Maybe even, oh, reboot the entire series?
Then there was Batwoman.
It has been two years since the original creative team left Batwoman, and my heart still hurts when I look at the books on my shelves. It’s dramatic and crazy. Yet I feel like I’ll never forgive DC.
Hell, look at the note I impulsively scribbled in my copy of “The Secret History of Wonder Woman” by Jill Lepore.
And yes, those are Batgirl pajama pants that I’m wearing behind that book. Mostly because they don’t make Batwoman pajamas.
But that’s it. The series I love ended twice now: Once when the creative team left, and again when the next team to step up failed and the series was canceled. The TPBs are on my bookcase. It’s time to part with the pile of comics, many of which I never read, but kept ordering out of some twisted loyalty.
Wish me luck.