by rory midhani
Kiku Hughes first came to my attention a few years ago when I saw a lovely short comic she did about some space lesbians. I was immediately drawn to her lush and deeply rich character designs and colors. The comic looked like a galactic dessert, and I wanted seconds and thirds. It’s a simple story with only two real characters and only seven pages, but Hughes made it feel as full as a strawberry milkshake topped with whipped cream and a half dozen cherries. As I looked more into Hughes, I found out that she has a bunch of other great short comics that satisfied the same kind of craving that this space lesbian comic did. Now this Nikkei (part of the Japanese diaspora) lesbian cartoonist is one of my favorite artists.
It’s well documented that I have trouble feeling any positive emotions for robots, but Hughes has made a pair of comics about a pair of twin AIs trying to figure out where they fit in the world of humans that honestly really touched my heart. In the first comic we meet Kim, an AI who’s taken on a human body that allows her to pass as an organic person, not a robot. We see her struggle internally with this life that she’s chosen, knowing that she’s left her twin behind. In a prequel comic that Hughes made later we see the other twin, and we see that both of them love each other and miss each other and even though they’ve become very different types of beings, they’ll always be connected in a way that’s truly and deeply human. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m crying thinking about how real and deep their connection is. It’s beautiful.
My favorite comic Hughes has done, though, is about Mt. St. Helens and beauty and and unfair beauty standards and resilience and paying attention to what is real. It’s a powerful metaphor for womanhood and queerness and being a person of color and so many other identities. Another favorite is her autobio comic about the strange places we find connections with out culture, especially when you’re mixed race and/or part of your family history has been lost to oppression and racism. She shows the amazing way that pop culture and recipes can surprise us and connect us to our past and our family. I’m also in love with her strange and pulsating comic from the Elements Anthology. In this comic we see a mix of magic and science as we follow a passenger on a space ship powered by fire. Hughes creates such a vibrant world in this short comic; you can see the fire ebbing and flowing and growing and snapping. You can see all the ways it changes and controls the lives of the people on this ship. You can see how it creates magic and how it has come to life. Kiku Hughes knows how to create a world that feels like you’re living in it.
You can see all of these comics and more on Hughes’ tumblr, and specifically in her tumblr comics tag. She also is the person behind my favorite ever Oh Joy Sex Toy comic, a really lovely and clear explanation of asexuality. She’s currently working on her first graphic novel, Displacement, about Japanese American incarceration.
Wonder Woman by George Perez Omnibus Vol 3 HC
Moon Girl and Devil Dinosaur #31
Princeless: Raven the Pirate Princess Vol 5 Together
Wet Moon Vol 6 Yesterdays Gone
Welcome to Drawn to Comics! From diary comics to superheroes, from webcomics to graphic novels – this is where we’ll be taking a look at comics by, featuring and for queer ladies. So whether you love to look at detailed personal accounts of other people’s lives, explore new and creative worlds, or you just love to see hot ladies in spandex, we’ve got something for you.
If you have a comic that you’d like to see me review, you can email me at mey [at] autostraddle [dot] com.
by rory midhani
I’ve read the first volume of Carly Usdin’s Heavy Vinyl, and I have been changed. I’m back in the 90s except instead of being a depressed and closeted kid, I get to be a part of a great adventure with this great team of teen girls. Before now I had only read the first issue of this series, which back then was called Hi-Fi Fight Club, and I completely loved it then, wishing that I had been friends with the characters when I was a teen. This book was so much better than I thought it was going to be and I thought it was going to be one of the best series of the year. In addition to Usdin, the book was penciled by Nina Vakueva, inked by Irene Flores and has colors by Rebecca Nalty.
Heavy Vinyl is about a teen girl named Chris who works at a record store in 1998 New Jersey. Chris is a total music nerd, kind of clumsy and more than a little soft butch. She’s great. The first issue ends with her finding out that her female coworkers, including her crush Maggie, also have a secret fight club/crime fighting group that they invite her to join when the lead singer of her favorite band disappears. From there we get to see the girls bond and become friends, plus discover that the disappearance is just the smallest drop in a giant bucket of music industry conspiracies and global networks of music-loving all-girl fight clubs.
The obvious comparison is to Empire Records, but there’s also plenty of D.E.B.S., Clueless, more than a little Josie and the Pussycats and some Juno and Dirty Dancing thrown in. Usdin really knows how to perfectly capture the teen voice. She makes Chris cute and trying super hard and anxious and perfect. She gives each girl a distinct personality that would fit perfectly in any 90s teen movie, there’s even a goth Mexican girl, which is super incredible and something I love seeing representation from. There’s this trope in teen movies that I absolutely love where we see a lovable loser, wrong side of the tracks, misfit with a heart of gold who has a crush on the pretty and sweet popular girl-next-door. Heavy Vinyl actually has that, but it’s gay. Carly Usdin has written my favorite trope into beautiful queer comics life.
This art is so perfect for the characters and the story. It’s bright and fresh and dynamic and both cute and tough at the same time in the most wonderful way. Every ounce of these girls’ personality is drawn into them. Vakueva, Flores and Nalty are absolutely literally the perfect combination for this book, I don’t think anyone on the planet could’ve done a better job. You want the art in a book like this to be cool and it is, you want it to be expressive and exciting and it definitely is, you want it to be able to get across emotions, humor and romance, and this art does that perfectly.
The series was a limited series, so this might be it, but the comic does a super great job at setting up the characters for more stories, and it really builds a great world for Usdin to play around in in the future. You can buy Heavy Vinyl at bookstores and online.
Raven: Daughter of Darkness #5
Jim Henson Labyrinth Coronation #4
Welcome to Drawn to Comics! From diary comics to superheroes, from webcomics to graphic novels – this is where we’ll be taking a look at comics by, featuring and for queer ladies. So whether you love to look at detailed personal accounts of other people’s lives, explore new and creative worlds, or you just love to see hot ladies in spandex, we’ve got something for you.
If you have a comic that you’d like to see me review, you can email me at mey [at] autostraddle [dot] com.
Super Mario Kart on the Super NES was my childhood jam. I could never get into sports or racing games, as they were too intense and I preferred watching my older brother play them anyway. But Mario Kart was cute and bright and controlled perfectly and had a perfect learning curve so that novices and experts alike could find infinite replay value. Its multiplayer was also one of the best.
I always played as Toad or Yoshi, which I didn’t know at the time was because I was gay! Or it turned me gay; it’s not clear which. Some Mario Kart characters are more queer than others, and over the many years and 10+ games we’ve had plenty of opportunity to speculate about their IDs.
Note: I’m not including every character here. I’ve taken out the baby and children characters, for obvious reasons (they’ll grow into their queerness eventually, let’s give them space). I also took out characters that only appeared in one game, were alternate costumes/colorways of other characters, or about whom I couldn’t find something funny to say. Also, canon is utilized when convenient. Please disagree with me (and tag yourselves!) in the comments!
Mario is a cis, straight, white dude. I just remember when Mario teamed up with Bowser, Peach’s consistent kidnapper and abuser, in Super Mario RPG and Peach was like, “WTF?” and Mario just shrugged. He plays golf and soccer and races karts with Bowser like every weekend. Sounds like a straight guy thing to do.
Diddy Kong seems like a frat bro, honestly.
I don’t know much about Daisy; she is pretty but seems like she has no personality, which reminds me of a lot of straight women I know? Her only real plot point is she’s a potential love interest of Luigi’s. OK.
Aww, don’t we all know a shy guy? He grew up in the midwest and never got a chance to be “out and proud” or whatever, so he’s really timid and wears a mask (THE MASK IS A METAPHOR)!
Bowser is a late-in-life elder gay. He kidnaps Peach because he wants a mother for his child (Bowser Jr.) from a previous partner. In later games, especially the RPGs, he has become much more of his flamboyant self and isn’t as macho as he used to be when he was straight-acting. Also Mario outed him in SM 64 with “So long, Gay Bowser!” Which is a dick move.
Donkey Kong is also a late-in-life gay with a child from his early days (DK Jr. is actually either his father or his son depending on which timeline you subscribe to… yeah).
Koopa Troopa is a trans guy who joined the military out of high school for lack of gainful employment options in the Mushroom Kingdom but was dishonorably discharged during Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell. :(
Peach is a high femme pillow princess. In Super Smash bros she slaps her opponents around with her white gloves, a frying pan, or her umbrella, which, yes. She has no qualms about requiring Mario to rescue her over and over and giving him nothing but a kiss on the cheek in return, because she deserves better than his basic ass.
Just look at this guy. He’s clearly the gay cousin of the Kong clan, and is “the best dancer on the island” according to Wikipedia, so.
Toadette is actually Toad in drag. Don’t @ me.
Lakitu is a nerdy but sweet pansexual who hopelessly crushes on straight girls and other cuties from her vantage point behind a stack of books in the library.
Wario is a messy, sassy, playful polyamorous bottom. Though he works out constantly and is ripped (look at those arms!), he’s a sweetie who loves playing games and pranks and subverting masculine stereotypes. He’s actually really sensitive about being considered the villain all these years, because he’s really a fun guy (and gets a lot of mileage out of that pun, considering it’s the Mushroom Kingdom after all). “Hot stuff, baby!” Is his catchphrase according to the Wikia Mario Villain’s Wiki. Just putting that out there.
Rosalina is a bisexual hard femme top. She’s tall and cut like an MMA fighter. Look at her white and seafoam leather motorcycle getup. She’s a pro domme. I could easily see her being in the front of the pack for Dykes on Bikes.
Birdo is a trans woman, and not just in my head but legitimately in the Mario CANON. She is arguably the first trans video game character of all time, and as such is a TRUE TRANS ICON.
Waluigi is an ace andro nonbinary person who presents slightly masculine of center. They’re totally comfortable not being in the spotlight and are happy to just be included! Wahhhh!
Toad is a femme vers twink. Obviously.
Yoshi is a tender non-binary lesbian. They’re always there for their friends even though they get much less fanfare and are constantly used and then discarded by the more mainstream bunch.
Luigi is a sweet trans demisexual switch. Luigi jumps higher than their brother but Mario’s the one famous for jumping, which, I know that feel, Lu. I’m a sweetie but would be salty at my mistreatment and have a death stare once in a while too.
The queerest one is you, the player! You are beautiful and important and super gay. I see you.
Last summer I regained touch with the cryptozoological community, a space I adored as a kid. Cryptozoology is the study of cryptids, entities that may or may not exist. This includes animals that aren’t scientifically recognized as real, like Bigfoot or Mothman as well as animals like the Tasmanian Tiger that are classified as extinct but that some believe are still living. While they may not technically be cryptids, creatures like werewolves, vampires, and ghosts are usually included in the interests of the average cryptid-lover. The cryptozoological community is a cultural space where UFO researchers, people who would eagerly buy a haunted house to talk to the ghosts, and people who believe in the possibility of everything from vampires to lake monsters mingle together. I came into the community as a member of that last category. I was a weird little kid who asked her parents for a Count Von Count doll rather than an Elmo doll because I loved vampires. I became obsessed with the Loch Ness Monster so early on in my development that the reason for the obsession is lost to my memory. What I do remember is flipping through the same four or five cryptid books in the library, a fear of the unknown mixing with excitement at the thought that there were so many strange, compelling things on offer in the world. Possessing the stubborn optimism of a child I reasoned that if I ever met a cryptid I would befriend it, because who said monsters were automatically bad? Maybe they just wanted someone to talk to. I know I did. In those days the cryptozoology community existed in pockets, with stories and theories about creatures passed on via books and T.V shows. As far as I knew, there was no other kid in my suburban town who was a member of the Loch Ness Monster Fan Club (a gift from a family friend who’d gone to Scotland) or who made charts comparing Bigfoot to the Yeti. Without a space to share them, I let my interest in cryptids go dormant, indulging it now and then with an episode of Animal X, a book of folklore or, with the help of my mom, a cherished pilgrimage to Loch Ness.
Loch Ness Monster, by Sophie Argetsinger
Fifteen years after little me sat studying monsters, adult me was a displaced Californian in Wisconsin, halfway through a draining graduate program. To lessen my stress, I needed to feed my creativity and explore my surroundings, and I realized Wisconsin had a lot of cryptids. I decided to visit locations associated with cryptids and write about them. I started a Tumblr called Midwestern Monster Hunt dedicated to my adventures and to sharing stories of the weird, macabre, and strange. I began following blogs devoted to lovingly curating blurry photos dotted with red circles, grainy images of discs in the sky, or puns about Mothman.
The more involved in cryptid and paranormal spaces I became, the more queer people seemed to pop up. There were people claiming The Flatwoods Monster is a lesbian, running blogs specifically for men who loved men (but also loved monsters), and designing pride flags featuring a different cryptid for each sexual orientation or gender identity. If this sounds suspiciously like the Gay Babadook meme, it’s because that joke and the queer presence in the cryptid community are close cousins. You can read a full run-down of where the meme came from and how it spread here, but basically The Babadook was miscategorized into the LGBT section on instead of the horror section on Netflix and some queer folks decided to embrace it as a new icon. The Babadook isn’t a cryptid, as it doesn’t inhabit the space between real and unreal and is instead explicitly fictitious. It doesn’t inhabit the “my existence is accepted but also denied” experience that draws many queer people to cryptids. However, the Gay Babadook is a very visible example of how easily queer culture and monster culture bleed into each other. It also emphasizes the role humor plays in that overlap. Lots of the content created by queer cryptid lovers is silly. Sometimes the humor is in imagining something potentially frightening, like Mothman, in a ridiculous situation (like continually crashing into streetlights like the giant moth he is). Other times, the humor is self-aware jokes that you should just date Bigfoot because you too are hairy and would like to live in the woods. But as I dug further into cryptid spaces, I found the overlap with queerness has deeper, more complex roots than a handful of jokes
In order to get to those roots, I interviewed my fellow bloggers and did my own digging to answer the question: Why are cryptid spaces so queer?
The Flatwoods Monster, by Sophie Argetsinger
For starters, they’re just weird. In weird spaces, non-normative orientations and identities feel less stigmatized. This can lead to a cycle where there start to be more and more queer and trans people in a space, further claiming it for those communities. And while there will be bigots in every cultural space, circles with “oddball” reputations tend to feel more accepting. As one blogger put it, in the event that their identity is challenged in cryptid spaces, they feel like they can better defend it because they’ve got a built in trump card: “you’re going to tell me you believe in Bigfoot but not gay people?” To them, and to others I spoke to, the idea of homophobia and transphobia existing in cryptid spaces was absurd because those spaces are explicitly built on the premise of accepting things that “normal” society won’t. Blogger Aislinn pointed out that the kind of people who gravitate towards cryptid spaces are, if anything, too eager to believe and accept things. While some cryptid lovers are skeptics (including myself) and others simply believe the creatures to be folklore, the majority firmly believe that cryptids are out there. They believe that our current understandings of the world are incomplete and that people should be open-minded to ideas that don’t fit tidily into their worldview. In other words, people in cryptid spaces are primed to be accepting of the unfamiliar, making them feel like safer spaces in which to express queerness. When they stepped into cryptid spaces, none of the inteviewees encountered the disbelief or rejection they’d received from family and community members. Some interviewees even cited that rejection as the reason they’d moved towards cryptid communities, as they believed finding the weirdos would bring them to a space where they were welcome. Online this is certainly the case, to the point that nearly every time I follow a cryptid blog it’s run by a queer person or a vocal ally. That pattern falters offline, partially because it’s not as easy to filter your interactions and because well-known cryptozoologists are generally white, cis, straight men. However, internet cryptid communities are acting as launching pad for young, queer cryptid lovers to create movies and webseries and attend conferences. If even a handful of those people maintain their involvement in offline cryptid spaces, chances are good that those spaces will become queerer as time goes on.
There’s also a hunger for representation running through this phenomenon. It’s not news that even in 2018, queer representation in media is not at the levels it should be. This presents a particularly interesting dynamic in the context of monster stories of which cryptids are a subset. Those stories generally hinge on some outside menace, some “other” threatening the status quo. But when you’re part of a marginalized group, be that queer folks, people of color, disabled folks, or any other identity that’s pushed into the shadows, the status quo mixed with the absence of anyone resembles you becomes menacing. The questions becomes: are those who are different being hidden, or are they hiding to protect themselves from harm? Cryptids embody both of those possibilities. They capture the feeling of being hidden because they are seen fleetingly or not at all, something many queer people can relate to. Cat, a Tumblr user, theorised that, “we (queer people) are hidden and so are these things so maybe we just subconsciously find solidarity in that.” Another user, Calvin, added, “enjoying the hidden things that no one talks about can be really fun for those who feel invisible in their own world.” I think we can extend that solidarity queer people feel for cryptids further by considering how both may hide out of self-preservation, because they are seen as a threat to be eradicated. Just as there are endless, soul-destroying debates about whether certain members of the queer community are a threat to various spaces, so too are there debates about whether cryptids are a menace to humans. For instance, blogger Savannah explained her fascination with Mothman as partially due to his being tied to a tragedy he may have had nothing to do with; the collapse of the Silver Bridge in West Virginia. In 1975, author Jack Keel claimed the collapse was in some way connected to the sightings of Mothman that occurred at approximately the same time, leading some theorists to blame the incident on the cryptid. The idea of being falsely framed as a threat strikes a chord for many queer people, and adds another reason why cryptids and queer people may be pushed into hiding. Nice, normal people want them to stay far away so that the community will remain safe. It’s not that those doing the pushing are against things and people that are different, oh goodness no. They just want the abominations to stay over there in the woods, so that they can’t do anything to the children.
Maybe familiarity with that baseless fear is why, when cryptids appear in stories, queer people embrace them. After all, the people who clutch their pearls and bite their knuckles in terror at monsters never really look like you do they? They look like the polite neighbors who clicks their tongue about “those people.” The dashing hero brings to mind the nice young men who hurl slurs at you like handfuls of rocks. If you’re not represented by the heroes and the civilians, that leaves two choices: accept that people like you don’t exist in that world, or lay claim to the creatures the status quo fears. Many queer people do, choosing to embrace the parts of themselves that are labeled monstrous. Queer coding of villains and monsters, and queer people’s response to that coding, has a long and complicated history that I won’t get into here. What I will say is there can be a lot of power in saying, “yes, I don’t fit within your narrow worldview, and I do not give two flying fucks about it.” If they won’t let you swim in their school, become a sea monster and devour them.
It doesn’t all boil down to power and menace. There’s a subversion in taking something unknown and feared and making it gentle and protective. In taking that which is labeled monstrous and naming it lovable. That’s exactly what a lot of cryptid-loving queers do. While cryptids in popular media are framed as dangerous (looking at you, two zillion Bigfoot hunting shows), the queer lens characterizes them as maternal figures, friends, or even potential partners. Over the last few months, especially in spaces like Tumblr, unrelated cryptids (as in, ones that belong to totally different countries) are being drawn in groups, a paranormal embodiment of the chosen family. Mothman is a favorite in these pictures, as is Bigfoot, the Fresno Nightcrawler, and The Flatwoods Monster (with the word monster often swapped out for “momster”). People also draw ads for Cryptid dating sites and joke about dating Bigfoot or Nessie. I asked why certain cryptids are depicted more than others, but many people said they just felt inexplicably drawn to a particular cryptid. Calvin did offer one reason, which is that they are non-binary and feel that a lot of their favorite cryptids could be non-binary too. I can follow that logic, especially in the case of the Flatwoods Monster and the Fresno Nightcrawler as they are presumed to be aliens and thus would not fit into earthly gender binaries. And if these creatures don’t have human notions and biases about gender (or sexuality, for that matter), maybe they’ll see queer people as kindred spirits and take them in. That might sound silly, and it might sound like a stretch, but the more I thought about it the less it surprised me that these friendly cryptid portrayals are created by queer people. Many of the creators are queer youth or young adults, people who want to build chosen families but whose age and resources make doing so difficult. When you’re in that position, you find creative ways to build a community, and maybe one of those ways is stitching together a cryptid family to escape into. Blogger FrankenLouie spoke about their experiences saying, “I’ve been dealing with a lot of parental abandonment and I like making characters and mythical creatures into sort of replacement parents. So giving them aspects of identities that I can relate to can make them seem safer.” Even if you’re an older cryptid-loving queer, these images can still offer you something you hunger for. When the structures and people that are supposed to protect you instead erase, oppress, or harass you, it’s comforting to imagine a world in which you can be welcomed into a space and enfolded in the warm embrace of Mothman or Bigfoot (not to mention Mothman looks soft as hell and probably feels like one of those fuzzy, Nordic throw blankets Google keeps trying to sell me).
Mothman illustrated by Sophie Argetsinger
Playing with the way cryptids are viewed introduces a new narrative, an alternative interpretation of stories both old and new. In that way, we can see it as an extension of something we’re called upon to do all the time: challenge the stories our culture tells itself, whether those are historical accounts that erase queer people or or movies that seldom bother to include us. An element I identified through my research was that interactions between queer people and cryptids act as wish fulfillment on a couple of levels. Cryptids thrive in isolation, in places juuuust out of reach of human hands. In the current social and political climate, a life of isolation in the New Jersey Pine Barrens or the woods of the Pacific Northwest sounds tempting to many of us. Throw in the fantasy of hanging out as part of a big cryptid chosen family and it’s easy to see why queer people become attached to the idea of cryptids. To some, they can basically represent a (slightly) weirder, spookier version of A-Camp.
There’s one more piece at play in this phenomenon. A sentiment I heard from multiple interviewees and have heard elsewhere in my life as a queer advocate, is that queer people have their experiences and existence denied all the time. Aislinn said that collecting evidence and defending the existence of cryptids, whether it’s in a serious or joking way, is doing for others what they wish was done for them. They pointed out that, “we can make the choice to validate the beast as something to fear, or inspire sympathy for it and promote its protection. I know that personally holds something empowering.” My friend Jess stated that cryptid culture provides an acknowledgement of the liminal space that it can feel like you inhabit when queer. For her, when she struggles to claim space in the world, when she wonders if she’s being seen for what and who she really is, the liminal spaces that cryptids inhabit (between known and unknown, real and fictional) start to feel familiar. In her mind, when you’re queer you feel a kinship with creatures that may never have their existence truly accepted and who remain outcast due to that lack of acceptance. Interviewee Jesse explained her interest in cryptids thusly: “maybe I’ve been drawn to them because they’re just as “weird” on the outside as I felt (feel?) on the inside. But I also remember wondering a lot about how cryptids might live. Like, day to day in their environment. I spent a lot of time thinking about them being in the woods alone. Wondering if they’re sad, if they’re lonely, if they’ve made friends with the animals like I do. I guess when you feel like an outcast (I usually had a hard time making friends) you become curious about other outcasts.” The outcast nature of cryptids generates curiosity, but also carries an element of fear. Cryptids tap into the fear of living a lonely, unconfirmed existence that many queer people feel. The worry that you’ll end up isolated somewhere, never fully recognized as valid.
For me, and for many of the people I spoke to, claiming cryptids as queer is a way to fight against that fear. When I step into cryptid spaces, I see people humanizing creatures in a way they wish others would humanize them while also connecting with other queer people. At the same time they’re creating art that de-isolates their favorite cryptids and gives them a big, hairy family, they’re pushing back against their own isolation by finding their people. I know that participating in the community makes me feel less alone. I’ve found other people in the wilderness and they have found me.The cryptids that fascinate us are at once entry point and anchor, introducing and connecting queer people to one another. In a world that’s often hostile, I’m grateful that monsters give me a way to find my community. The phenomenon makes me feel that in the event that the real monsters show up, I’ll have a people standing with me to face them.
Did you know there are more than 1700 episodes of House Hunters? It’s a surprisingly big number, but it’s also not exactly surprising, because I think I have maybe seen all of them. It’s also possible that I’ve only seen two episodes: the one with the guy who was looking for a very specific bathtub situation because that’s where he does his work, and any other episode ever. Because they all have the same plot. Somebody says “man-cave” and I get mad. Somebody says “granite countertops” and I get madder. Somebody says “curb appeal” and I get madder still. The kitchen is “perfect for entertaining.” The ensuite master bathroom does NOT have dual vanities, and that could be a deal breaker. And even the knowledge that it is all a setup does nothing to assuage my frustration that I will be renting forever and these people who are annoying on TV can afford to by their own home. I am furious. And I will watch it all day.
Of course, House Hunters is old news nowadays. Over the past few years the real estate TV market has shifted away from just buying and instead toward renovation, and has made the term “house flipping” familiar to wine moms and freelancers with cable the country over. (The first time I ever heard that phrase was when Jason Street flipped Buddy Garrity’s house on Friday Night Lights, and then I don’t think I heard it again for five whole years.) It’s so much better. Not only do these awful people get to own a house, they get to own a dream house with an open floor plan and custom subway tiled shower! I hate them so much! I want to be them! I would not have chosen to install a built-in entertainment center though in this age of ever-expanding televisions.
I hate them!
Well, have I got the game for me! House Flipper. It is about flipping houses, if you can believe that. And much like the television shows it is so successfully capitalizing off of, I love it so much and want to change everything about it. I could spend the entire rest of this review complaining about the game, but it wouldn’t even matter because House Flipper is perfect for even existing in the first place.
You start out in a filthy shack of an office, a lowly jack of all trades who longs to flip houses but currently has only a lot more money than I have in real life, but not quite enough to invest in real estate just yet. So you go out on some odd jobs to clean people’s houses and knock down a wall or two and install a fuckton of radiators until you can no longer resist the urge to flip. Then you buy a horrible little house, and try to make it less horrible.
It’s a fixer upper.
As far as the gameplay goes, House Flipper is just a lot of clicking, and sometimes holding down the left more button. (You will want an actual mouse to play this game. The scroll wheel is the only way to rotate objects.). Click to dispose of trash. Click to demolish a wall. Click and hold to clean. Click and hold to paint. Click to pick up a tile, click and hold to lay the tile down. Click on each individual screw on every appliance you install. Click. Click. Hold. It’s so much clicking. Lucky for me my carpal tunnel is my left hand, or else this game might kill me. Some of it is actually really relaxing — installing appliances, vacuuming up roaches, plastering over holes in the walls. Other parts are frustrating. Why do we need to paint/tile walls one strip at a time when we are allowed to lay down flooring in one fell swoop? Why does washing the windows feel so bad? Why can’t I stop playing even when I am angrily asking these questions of the heavens? Nobody knows!
Why won’t these cabinets line up right? A MYSTERY.
Here is what about this game, besides that it exists and I need it. It satisfies my love of order and cleanliness that I am too lazy to implement in my own life. You just click on the garbage and it is gone. You wave the same mop at every surface and everything is now spotless. You can put furniture down and move it and rearrange it and see how it looks with this rug, and you can paint the walls when the room is empty or with a full bedroom set in place and nothing needs a tarp and it comes out smooth every time. It’s not even about fanciness or property ownership as much as it’s about imagining if my house could just be clean right now? It’s a powerful drug, let me tell you.
Clean and cozy.
Here is what I do not like, besides that a lot of the controls are frustratingly time consuming. There is just not enough stuff. There are only a handful of tiles to choose from, and most of them are awful. There are not enough kinds of flooring. There are more paint options, but still nothing like the wall of swatches I want to be choosing from like a kid in a hardware store. There is no oven, not even one, that isn’t a part of a larger one-piece kitchen that won’t fit in most of the smaller homes. There are not enough doors, only because for some reason you are not allowed to paint doors. There are not enough curtains. You can’t paint furniture, you’re limited to the options each piece comes in, and those colors/woods are not consistent from item to item. Your steel fridge might not match your steel prefab kitchen, but that’s too bad, because there are not any better options. Everything starts to look the same because there are only so many decent options for a lot of things. Give us more stuff! I love your game but I am tired of installing the same shower in every bathroom! Honestly if they just open it up to modders we will be swimming in interior decorating options faster than you can tile an entire kitchen floor, which is the fastest thing you can do in this game besides making trash disappear.
Other things I want: The ability to demolish exterior walls. Any landscaping, even if just to mow the front lawn. Porches! Patios and patio furniture. Roofing. Dimensions on all furniture/cabinets so that I know before I pay that the two kitchen sections that look like they match are actually different heights for some reason. More stackable stuff — I wanted to put toilet paper into the bathroom cabinet and candles on the windowsill next to one of the two bathtubs that exist in this video game, but it wasn’t allowed.
I’m actually kind of proud of how this one came out okay.
Wow. I really am just complaining about an awful lot. But I feel like complaining is not a bad thing because the game is still in active development and maybe they’ll listen and maybe it will get even better? Because I promise you that it is very good, in that it is exactly what it is, which is a thing that I think a lot of people will find infuriating and satisfying and scratching of a very particular itch. And don’t listen to me anyway, I just now after more than ten hours figured out which curtains fit on which windows, after selling three houses with only blinds and being mad at the game for it. It’s $20 on Steam for Windows and Mac, which sounds like a lot now that I’m typing it, but I never considered not buying it and never felt any kind of way about the price once I started playing because I was too busy becoming a pretend real estate tycoon to worry about real life money. Now that’s what I call escapism.
by rory midhani
Life is beautiful now that I’ve read Julia Kaye’s new graphic novel about the early days of her gender transtion, Super Late Bloomer. This is the Fun Home for transition stories. As soon as I finished reading it I cried and then thought about how lucky we all are that there’s a book that perfectly captures the feelings, frustrations and triumphs of transition this perfectly. Super Late Bloomer, which chronicles the first year of Julia’s life after she decided to transition, could turn any pessimist into the most ardent optimist.
Julia Kaye has made a diary showing every trans person thinking about coming out that they can do it. She’s honest about her struggles and she doesn’t gloss over any of the hard or scary parts. She shows the pitfalls and the joy of transition, and she shows that the joy far outweighs the bad. I want millions of teens to read this book. I want all of them to see that humans deserve love and happiness and the freedom and support to be who they are. I want all of them to know that about themselves, and for the trans ones to know that they deserve the happiness of transitioning.
For decades cis people have been telling trans coming out stories and stories about trans people at the start of our transitions. It’s a story that fascinates them because they can’t comprehend what it’s like to not identify with the gender you’re told to. Obviously trans people shouldn’t have to be humanized and it’s annoying that we have to tell these stories over and over again, but honestly, getting cis people to understand this early part of transitioning is definitely one of the best ways to get people to not just “accept” or “tolerate” trans people, but to affirm and support us. Super Late Bloomer is honestly the best comic I’ve ever seen if you’re looking for something to give to your friends or family members who you’re afraid might be uneducated on trans issues. This book humanizes the trans experience in this really beautiful and compassionate way that shows just how different trans narratives are when they’re told by trans people themselves. No more transition stories written by cis people, I only want ones written by Julia Kaye from now on.
Kaye has mastered this form of comic. Her little daily strips make the comic accessible for all sorts of ages and reading abilities. Her art style is so pleasant and really emotive. I love how you can see the way she draws herself grow and change through her transition and how she feels about her body and gender.
Now, Julia is just one woman, and so she can only tell her story, we also need transition stories from a wide variety of trans people, but I think most of you reading this will already know that. This book is honestly the pinnacle of its art form. It’s a guidebook that will last the years and be an important resource for queer libraries, bookstores, coffee shops, school LGBTQ clubs and bedrooms of trans kids deciding to come out for a long, long time.
Snotgirl Vol 2 California Screaming TP
BTVS Season 11 Giles #4
Wynonna Earp Yearbook Season 2 TP
X-Files Case Files: Florida Man #2
Adventure Time Beginning of End #1
Welcome to Drawn to Comics! From diary comics to superheroes, from webcomics to graphic novels – this is where we’ll be taking a look at comics by, featuring and for queer ladies. So whether you love to look at detailed personal accounts of other people’s lives, explore new and creative worlds, or you just love to see hot ladies in spandex, we’ve got something for you.
If you have a comic that you’d like to see me review, you can email me at mey [at] autostraddle [dot] com.
by rory midhani
First Second Books is one of my favorite publishers, with books like Cucumber Quest, Tillie Walden’s Spinning and On a Sunbeam, The Prince and the Dressmaker and This One Summer — and I’m excited to announce another book that I’m sure I’ll love, Sarah Winifred Searle’s The Greatest Thing. The Greatest Thing is a high school story about a girl named Winifred (the book is a fictionalized memoir of Searle’s teen years) and the group of friends she makes in her sophomore year who help her figure out how to survive high school, body image issues, depression and bisexuality happening all at the same time.
Winifred faces her sophomore year of high school with dread until she meets a pair of queer, punky freshmen. They teach her how to modify her clothing to feel more comfortable in her skin, using pins and patches to create a suit of armor. These new friendships and the comic zines they produce together keep Win afloat as she navigates issues of body image, disordered eating, and depression. The Greatest Thing is a fictionalized memoir about the kinds of well-meaning moments and quiet mistakes that help a person figure out not just who they are, but who they need to become.
You might remember Searle from her work on Fresh Romance, which I’ve written about here before, or her comics featured on The Nib or in Jem and the Holograms and Adventure Time. She also has an upcoming middle grade graphic novel called Sincerely, Harriet. She said she wanted to write this book for several reasons, including giving a highlight to bisexual characters at a time when queer teen lit seems to be thriving. “I fell for girls as well as boys, but it was never to seek attention,” she said, “And despite the fact that I was fat, a broad spectrum of romantic experiences did not elude me –– seemingly against all odds, I was loved. But the fact is, it wasn’t against all odds. This stuff happens all the time, and teens need to know that.” She also wanted a chance to tell her own version of a story about teen mental health.
Searle says that she wanted to tell this story because she wants teens to have a wide variety of depictions of how people their age deal with mental health issues like depression and eating disorders. She hopes this book will give another perspective to these very common experiences, a perspective that can be very important for people to see.
…Popular media often sensationalizes teen suicide to the point that the character who dies ceases to be a fully-dimensional person and becomes this fetishized symbol of struggle, reduced to impetus for other characters’ arcs. It’s not that stories that explore this issue can’t be done well –– the manga Orange will forever be one of my most favorite series of all time –– but Orange’s strength lies in the fact that it’s not about Kakeru’s death as much as it is about his life. I wanted to push that even further; my book will focus the story on survival and how even small successes in mental health management are worth celebrating.
The Greatest Thing will hit bookstores and online retailers in 2020.
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic #66
Supergirl: The Silver Age Omnibus Vol 2 HC
Cucumber Quest Vol 3 Melody Kingdom
Welcome to Drawn to Comics! From diary comics to superheroes, from webcomics to graphic novels – this is where we’ll be taking a look at comics by, featuring and for queer ladies. So whether you love to look at detailed personal accounts of other people’s lives, explore new and creative worlds, or you just love to see hot ladies in spandex, we’ve got something for you.
If you have a comic that you’d like to see me review, you can email me at mey [at] autostraddle [dot] com.
When I turned sixteen, my mom wanted to throw me a big party. You know, Sweet Sixteen, and all that. I told her absolutely not, that I’d much prefer to save us all a lot of stress and money and celebrate my birthday in my favorite way: by ignoring it. We ended up sort of compromising, and I brought a bunch of friends to see Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone when it premiered instead. If I had to acknowledge my birthday, I was going to at least enjoy Harry Potter while doing it.
Like so many other queer kids, I had fallen in love with the wizarding world — with its mail-delivering owls, and chocolate frogs that jump — almost immediately. Hogwarts was a place where being different was something to be celebrated, not hidden, and that sounded like heaven to my closeted teenage ears. I’m not a kid anymore, and I came out a long time ago, but I still love Harry Potter with all of my heart. So it really does pain me to tell you that the new mobile game, Hogwarts Mystery, makes me want to smash my phone into a million pieces.
None of the sense of wonder that made Harry Potter special is anywhere to be found in Hogwarts Mystery. Instead, the game is a hollow and nearly unplayable attempt to cash in on a billion-dollar franchise. It’s advertised as a narrative/RPG-style game “where players can create their own character and experience life as a Hogwarts student,” but none of the choices you make seem to actually impact the story in any meaningful way.
The general plot of Hogwarts Mystery is that your older brother tried to find some Cursed Vaults in Hogwarts, but something went wrong. He was expelled and has since disappeared. It’s your turn to start at Hogwarts now, and you’re determined to figure out what happened. As far as story set-ups go it’s fine, I guess, but the notoriety surrounding you because of things you didn’t do (and don’t really know about) plays out a lot like the beginning of Harry Potter. You even have your very own version of Draco Malfoy named Merula, a pure-blood obsessed Slytherin who despises you from the get go.
Not All Slytherins.
One of the only good things about Hogwarts Mystery is that I was able to create the softest butch imaginable from a pretty limited character creator. She also makes consistently hilarious facial expressions, like this one:
Look at this dork.
Once you create your character, there’s a brief tutorial that introduces the gameplay. Gameplay is a term I am using very loosely here, because the main mechanic, and probably about 85% of the game so far, is tapping on anything that is outlined in blue. I figured I would just go with it, even though it was repetitive and boring, in hopes that the game would pick up once I actually made it to Hogwarts. Reader, it did not.
TAP HERE. FOREVER. YOU’LL NEVER STOP TAPPING.
In fact, the very first time there’s any excitement at all, the game hits a wall. You see, the little blue lightning circles were actually “energy” all along and it turns out you only have a finite amount of energy to complete tasks, which was somehow not really covered in the tutorial. So here you are, being literally strangled to death by Devil’s Snare:
And suddenly you run out of energy! Never fear though, you can just buy more energy with gems. Easy enough, right? But what if you run out of gems (which you will surely do all the time)?
Oh.
So at this point your options are to shell out some cash or wait like an hour for your energy to recharge, which makes absolutely no sense given your current predicament. And that’s basically the whole game. Sure there are dialog options and choices to make, but the main choice of the game is this: do you pause and break up the flow of the story in inexplicable ways or do you pump money in to keep blindly tapping.
WHY DO I NEED ENERGY TO REST, THIS MAKES NO SENSE!!!
“Freemium” isn’t a new concept and Hogwarts Mystery isn’t the first game to use dark patterns in an attempt to make some money, but the blatant lack of effort to create an entertaining game here is disheartening. Puzzle games like Candy Crush that use a similar tactic work because there’s actually some level of skill involved; you want to keep playing to solve the puzzles.
In Hogwarts Mystery, the only thing that keeps you going is the story, which is… still fine, I guess. You mostly interact with Rowan, who becomes your best friend after you meet in Diagon Alley during the tutorial. She’s in your house no matter which one you choose, which is another thing that doesn’t make sense because she is so clearly a Ravenclaw:
She’s a cute nerd though, which is 100% my type, and if I don’t uninstall this game from my phone before year four or five I’ll probably try to romance her (if that’s even an option). Anyway, Rowan is down to help you investigate the Cursed Vaults and also help you learn to how to duel, which is another part of the game that I think was probably created by someone who has never read or seen any of the Harry Potters.
The way duels work in Hogwarts Mystery is that they’re exactly like rock-paper-scissors, and also sometimes if you win a round you can “throw a vial” to reduce your opponent’s stamina (which is definitely not a thing). It makes no sense, but it’s such a relief not to be tapping randomly at the screen that I don’t even care.
Throughout your first year, you also meet a few more friends named Penny Haywood and Ben Copper. Ben is a cowardly Gryffindor and mostly a boring character, but Penny is a total babe with a heart of gold. She takes an interest in you because you stand up to Merula’s bullying and beat her in a duel, like a badass. Penny starts talking to you and reduces you to a stammering gay disaster, which is the truest part of the whole game so far.
This is the collective queer reaction to every pretty girl.
At the end of the year, you can choose whether to take Penny or Ben (along with Rowan) on an adventure to try and find a Cursed Vault. Obviously, the correct answer is to take Penny, which I did, but apparently that choice doesn’t actually matter because in the beginning of the second year Ben is somehow the one affected by the trip. Hey look, it’s another thing that doesn’t make sense!
As of right now, the game is only playable into the third year, but I haven’t made it to that point yet because I’m not willing to spend a single cent on this thing. The idea of a Hogwarts RPG is such a good one, and it had the potential to be a robust and fun experience, but Hogwarts Mystery is a complete let down. Unless the developer, Jam City, makes some serious and fundamental changes, I do not recommend this incredibly frustrating game — even (or maybe especially) if you’re a Harry Potter fan.
by rory midhani
A few months ago I brought you a preview of the comic The Pervert and an interview with its creators; now it’s time for a full review. Michelle Perez and Remy Boydell have created a trans graphic novel unlike anything I’ve ever seen. It’s like removing an ingrown toenail or getting an anal swab to check for STDs: it will make you wildly uncomfortable, but it also makes your life better. The Pervert is definitely going to turn off some readers; it’s full of swearing and violent homophobia and transphobia and explicit sex scenes. But for the people who read it, it will stick with them forever. The book tells the story of a trans woman going through her transition as she does sex work and tries to find a little bit of happiness. She forms relationships with other sex workers, other trans women and johns. The book doesn’t really have a traditional narrative structure, but its story is clear, and it shows us what life is like for a large number of queer women and the people in their lives. This is the kind of book that will give young punk trans kids the final push they need to transition and light a fire of fear and excitement in the hearts of young trans non-punks that will one day catch their whole body on fire with transness. This book is a wakeup call.
God, this book was a brutal read. Perez had told me, “I didn’t wanna write an after school special. The world is more complicated than that.” She was underselling it. This book is full of AIDS tests, full penetration, suicidal ideation and uncomfortable emotions. It’s a real story that doesn’t try to gussy itself up at all. It reads like a Goya painting looks. Perez is telling stories that are so different from other mainstream comics, but will also resonate with so, so many people. You don’t need to be trans or a sex worker or depressed to see yourself in this book. Perez is able to capture a shared experience that Millenials have where we just can’t seem to swim upriver no matter what or how hard we try. Sometimes when I read books I think “wow, I’d love to live in the world this person has created;” with The Pervert, Perez has written a book where I think “wow, I already do live in the world this person has created.”
While it’s brutal, there’s also kindness and love in the book. One of the clients we meet had previously had a relationship with a trans woman and the way he loves her and talks to her warmed my heart. He’s never shown as a perfect person, but he’s given sympathy, because he’s a human being and he’s trying. I love these parts of the book. There are also splash pages of art that is simply beautiful. Sometimes the subject matter is something gruesome, like a car crash or deer carcass, but it’s still overwhelmingly beautiful.
I can’t imagine this book being done by anyone else. Just as Perez’s writing is obviously the only way to tell this unique and personal story, Boydell’s art is essential to this story. She creates a muted and subdued world of furries and humans who always seem like they’re half asleep or ready for the day to end. Even when people are inside, you can still tell that it’s a cloudy, rainy day in the Pacific Northwest. When characters who look like Clifford the Big Red Dog or Snoopy show up, they make the world seem so much more real. It’s like when you’re walking down the street and you see someone who reminds you of an old friend, or when the grocery store clerk reminds you of Mr. Rogers. It’s weird and more than a little surreal, but also life wouldn’t be real life without it.
The way Boydell draws trans bodies in this book is incredible. There’s no politeness, no shame in her drawings. When I say there’s explicit nudity in this book, I don’t just mean that it shows genitals, I mean that it shows nudity and sex that’s not always pretty by mainstream standards. I can’t wait to return to this book over and over again. Reading it was like digging deep into the earth. It was dirty, it was hard and it was sometimes uncomfortable — but it also was good work, the dirt was rich and sensual and in the end, you’ll see things in a completely different way.
Beast of Burden: Animal Rites TP
Jem and the Holograms Dimensions TP
My Little Pony Friendship is Magic Vol 14 TP
Batgirl and the Birds of Prey #22
Exiles #3
Hawkeye Kate Bishop vol 3 Family Reunion TP
Sheena Queen of the Jungle Vol 1 TP
Femforce #182
Welcome to Drawn to Comics! From diary comics to superheroes, from webcomics to graphic novels – this is where we’ll be taking a look at comics by, featuring and for queer ladies. So whether you love to look at detailed personal accounts of other people’s lives, explore new and creative worlds, or you just love to see hot ladies in spandex, we’ve got something for you.
If you have a comic that you’d like to see me review, you can email me at mey [at] autostraddle [dot] com.
by rory midhani
There’s something about your first kiss with a girl, something different. Maybe it’s your first kiss; maybe you’ve kissed dozens of people before, but you’ve never kissed like this. There’s something new, something that changes you. It’s new and it’s big and it’s so many different things. It’s not always all good, though. It can bring out truths you’re not ready for; it can open doors that can never be closed; it can change your life forever. This experience is what Coleen AF Venable and Ellen T. Crenshaw’s new book Kiss Number 8 is all about. The book doesn’t come out until March 3 of next year, but I’ve got a very special preview of some of the pages for you here before anyone else gets them!
The book, being published by First Second, is described as being about a teen girl named Mads going through high school, learning about herself and struggling with new changes in life.
Mads is pretty happy with her life. She hangs out with her best friend Cat, she goes to church with her mom and dad, she goofs off with Adam from next door (who might as well be her little brother) and she kind of muddles through high school. It’s great, it’s fine, until it isn’t anymore.
Because Adam is in love with Mads. And Mads is in love with Cat. And Mads’s dad is hiding something big—something that could tear their family apart. Suddenly Mads’s tidy little life has gotten epically messy—and epically heartbreaking. But when your heart is broken, it takes more than eight awkward, uncomfortable, tooth-clashing, friendship-ending kisses to put things right again.
It takes at least nine.
This book comes from the Eisner-nominated writer Colleen AF Venable and cartoonist Ellen T. Crenshaw. Based on this preview Venable’s writing seems like it’s going to be emotionally devastating in the best way. In these first few pages we get to know Mads really well and we get a great feeling for her temperament, her place in the high school and teen society and her sense of humor. She’s a classic high school coming of age protagonist, but she’s gay. Venable also gets in some light moments and good jokes here, so when we get hit with the emotions, they land even harder. I also love the art. Crenshaw gives the art enough of a cartoony edge that it seems youthful and fresh. But she also knows how to get real emotion and expressions on these characters’ faces. Take a look at Laura’s face after she and Mads kiss — there’s so much there. There’s fear and regret and shame and so many emotions, that, unfortunately, are familiar to a lot of people during the early stages of their gay life. This book looks like it’s going to be incredible and I can’t wait to see it when it comes out.
Exit Stage Left: The Snagglepuss Chronicles #5
Harley Quinn Vol 5 Vote Harley TP
She-Hulk Vol 3 Jen Walters Must Die
True Believers Kitty Pryde and Wolverine #1
Adventure Time/Regular Show TP
Welcome to Drawn to Comics! From diary comics to superheroes, from webcomics to graphic novels – this is where we’ll be taking a look at comics by, featuring and for queer ladies. So whether you love to look at detailed personal accounts of other people’s lives, explore new and creative worlds, or you just love to see hot ladies in spandex, we’ve got something for you.
If you have a comic that you’d like to see me review, you can email me at mey [at] autostraddle [dot] com.
This morning I played the demo for Detroit: Become Human, an upcoming PS4 exclusive about androids I guess. Or at least, featuring androids. The demo played like an exceptionally gorgeous L.A. Noire with lighting so good it was a pleasure to look at the evidence it made me look at. I have no idea if that’s what the rest of the game will be like, but I am very psyched to play it. But since it doesn’t come out for a whole month, I can’t play it yet. So in the meantime I’ve been playing NieR:Automata, a game about androids that came out an entire year ago.
I didn’t playing NieR: Automata last year for a few reasons. The main one is that it came out the same week as Mass Effect and less than a month after Horizon Zero Dawn and got lost in the shuffle. But also it didn’t look very pretty, and I’m kind of superficial? And I heard that it was very hard, and I usually don’t have the drive to get good enough at hard games for them to be fun before I quit out of frustration.
CAPTION: I disagree!
I am playing it now for one reason: it was on sale for half price and I had just gotten paid. And you know what? I like it!
It feels good to play this game. All of the buttons do the things I want them to do without me ever having to guess. The movement is tight and the jumping feels right and the enormous Monster Hunter-style swords swing faster than should ever be possible but I will take fun over realism with this stuff any day of the week. Like, everybody loved Red Dead Redemption but I spent a couple minutes on a horse in the tutorial and the movement felt so bad me that I turned it off and never tried to play it again. I have turned this game on multiple times to play it, which makes it better than Red Dead Redemption in my opinion. (This is sort of a joke, except not really, because subjectively it’s very true!)
CAPTION: Hey who you calling a machine?
So here is what I think the premise of the story is about, but you need to understand there was a lot going on while these things were being explained to me. I know that robots have taken over the Earth. I believe that they came from space, but I’m not sure about that or about how that would be true. It is my understanding that any surviving humans are on the moon, and that they sent us, androids, to fight the robots. It’s pretty standard stuff until a nude somebody falls out of a robot nest and all hell breaks loose. It is a story about one thing that turns into a story about something else and keeps iterating on itself almost forever like for instance the hit television show Lost, which had both too many seasons and not enough seasons. The good news is, if you like playing this game, the game itself recommends that you to keep playing it for a very long time. I confess that I think the story is (very fun!) nonsense and I don’t care about the characters. My only friend is an annoying boy who keeps asking me if I want him to adjust his fighting style. I don’t care about his fighting style, because I am playing this game on easy mode.
CAPTION: A Nude Somebody.
That brings me back to that thing I said before about the game being apparently pretty hard? Well I’ll tell you, through the prologue mission I was playing on Normal mode like some kind of eSports Professional feeling like I must be much better at videogames than everybody who has ever mentioned this game to me. But then the second mission began with a spaceship bullet-hell fighting sequence that I died to one dozen times in a row until I finally put it on easy mode and coincidentally figured out how to do special moves in the spaceship. Some combination of those things got me through on my first try, not counting the twelve first tries before it. And then the game, which had been mostly a sidescrolling platformer in the prologue, and was then a spaceship for a while, suddenly became an open world adventure where I could explore and kill things and find Plant Seed and Complex Gadget, or I could go fishing. So I went fishing, and caught Carp Machine, and I wondered how I could have ever found this stressful? But then I had to fight an opera singer machine and I died three times, now on easy mode with nowhere easier left to go, before I beat her. I can confirm: it is hard. But the combat has a frenetic arcade-iness that makes me a little giddy even as I’m being chewed up by the robot dog that was for some reason built under the metallic skirts of the robot diva that was for some reason deemed an essential part of the robot invasion force. I’m saying, it’s a good game.
CAPTION: YOU ALREADY ARE BEAUTIFUL, INSIDE AND OUT
The only issue I have with the game, apart from some technical difficulties (mainly that I cannot get the resolution to cooperate with my monitor), is the aesthetic. This game is visually exhausting for me. The color palette is washed out in a way that makes it really hard for me to play for long periods of time. And the art for the android characters is kinda goth and stylish and very much A Look, whereas the robots have an Iron Giant whimsy that I really like, but they don’t look like they belong in the same game as the androids and none of them necessarily look like they belong in the same world as the world itself, which is sometimes beautiful but also feels sparse like a last generation console game. And the bullets that a lot of the robot enemies shoot don’t look like anything else, which is probably to make them noticeable for dodging, but they’re so ugly I want to scream. It’s a real mish-mash. The game is at it’s best, visually, in the sidescrolling parts. Those screens feel actively designed in a way a lot of the 3D sections don’t. And the character models look a lot cooler in silhouette too.
CAPTION: Maybe robots aren’t so different from us after all.
I played NieR:Automata on PC, but it’s also available for PS4. It’s on sale on Steam for $30 until May 6th, and it looks like it goes for under $40 on Amazon for PS4 these days. You should play this game if you like or do not mind: hard games, action games, RPGs, platformers, bullet-hell games, hacking mini-games, hot androids, cute robots, nude somebodies. And fishing.
by rory midhani
A few weeks ago I made a list of which female superheroes from Marvel and DC movies I thought would be the most likely to come out in the next year and a half. My gay psychic energy sent shockwaves through Hollywood and that very same week, the blog Manabyte reported that actress Shiori Kutsuna, who’s character can be seen in the preview, is playing Negasonic Teenage Warhead’s girlfriend in the upcoming Deadpool 2. A lot of people guessed that her character was Psylocke or Surge, but according to this blog, she’s neither and her name is Yoiki. There are a few other details about the character on the blog report, but little is known about her character or what role she plays in the movie. This is all still purely a rumor, but it would make sense, and it would be an amazing move for this movie.
The Marvel and DC superhero movies have been pretty much teasing us with queer women for a few years now. As I mentioned before, several characters who are queer in the comics have appeared in the movies, and with Tessa Thompson’s Valkyrie from Thor: Ragnarok, a scene showing her to be bisexual was cut from the final film. This could be the first time one of these movies keeps that part of the character in the movie. As you know, Brianna Hildebrand, the actor who plays Negasonic Teenage Warhead, is queer herself, and she somehow looks even more gay in this second movie than she did in the first one, so everything is set up for the character to be gay.
Now, I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention Becky G as Trini in Power Rangers, who was the first queer woman superhero in a major movie. I absolutely love that movie and have written about it before. Having a queer Latina superhero on the big screen is a huge thing that cannot be ignored. There was a gay Latina super hero in a major studio movie. If you haven’t seen it yet, go do it now. Unfortunately, while Power Rangers was successful, it was not successful enough for us to get sequels, so it looks like we’ve seen the last of Trini on the big screen.
I’m not going to lie. I think Deadpool 2 looks kind of amazing. Deadpool is far from my favorite character, but the first movie was mostly funny and had great action, and this movie adds in a ton of poc. Deadpool is fighting against Cable, a deadly mutant from the future, and assembles a team of mutants to help him face this major threat. On that team are returning X-Men Colossus and Negasonic Teenage Warhead, as long as a bunch of new faces. The one who looks like she has the most screentime is the luck-based mutant Domino, played by Zazie Beetz. Terry Crews as Bedlam, Lewis Tan as Shatterstar and Shioli Kutsuna as the yet-unnamed character round out the team of poc who join Deadpool in his fight. If Negasonic Teenage Warhead and Kutsuna’s characters really are girlfriends, that could be my favorite superhero team of all-time. Deadpool 2 comes out May 18 and you can be sure that if there are lesbians in it I will confirm it on my twitter in the least-spoilery way I can think of.
Hack/Slash Resurrection Vol 1 TP
Jessica Jones Vol 3 Return of the Purple Man TP
Moon Girl and Devil Dinosaur #30
Welcome to Drawn to Comics! From diary comics to superheroes, from webcomics to graphic novels – this is where we’ll be taking a look at comics by, featuring and for queer ladies. So whether you love to look at detailed personal accounts of other people’s lives, explore new and creative worlds, or you just love to see hot ladies in spandex, we’ve got something for you.
If you have a comic that you’d like to see me review, you can email me at mey [at] autostraddle [dot] com.
by rory midhani
When I was perusing twitter a few weeks ago, a post where an artist was coming out as trans passed by my feed. I checked out her twitter and found that she did this super cute comic Rae the Doe about a gay, trans doe. These comics are so earnest they punch you right in the heart. Rae is such a pure cinnamon roll and all you want to do is protect her and make sure she’s happy. She’s out there giving all of us trans folks who probably won’t get surgery some visibility by deciding to keep her antlers. She’s sensitive and nervous, super emotional and super, super gay. She’s a perfect gay role model. Oh, and before you ask: the do re mi/Rae the Doe thing is a total coincidence.
Just like her creator, Rae the Doe had a recent coming out. Shortly after she came out in real life, Brinker posted on twitter that there would be a week of special Rae Comes Out comics. These were great. Brinker has talked about how she wants to show that you can have trans jokes that aren’t making fun of or putting trans people down. These comics do a great job of that, never putting Rae down or mocking her gender or coming out, but still making you laugh while making you say “awwww.” It’s really nice to see a coming out story that’s happy and full of love; I want more coming out stories that are like this!
I’m seeing more and more four-panel comics by queer cartoonists. With Up and Out, Close Your Eyes Look At The Mountains, My Two Lesbian Ants, and now this comic, we’ve got a cool trend going on. They also all share a profound sense of sincerity and vulnerability. These aren’t comics that are filled with layers of irony or metaphor; they tell you exactly what they want to say even if they’re embarrassed to because they know it’s worth it. They’re shaking off the pretense of a lot of Millenial humor and sticking to the simple format of memes and internet humor and creating something really wonderful for the future of comics.
Olive Brinker is a terrific cartoonist and seems like a terrific person. If you want to follow her and her work, you can check out her twitter. Her comic, Rae the Doe has a tumblr where you can read all the pages as they update on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. If you’d like to support her, you can do that through her patreon account or you can buy Rae the Doe shirts on teespring. I personally own the “I’m Gay” shirt, but that “I Love You, You Gay Disaster” shirt looks really incredible.
Harley Quinn & The Gotham City Sirens Omnibus HC
Star Trek Discovery Succession #1
X-Files Case Files Florida Man #1
Phoenix Resurrection Return of Jean Grey TP
Runaways Vol 1 Find Your Way Home TP
Welcome to Drawn to Comics! From diary comics to superheroes, from webcomics to graphic novels – this is where we’ll be taking a look at comics by, featuring and for queer ladies. So whether you love to look at detailed personal accounts of other people’s lives, explore new and creative worlds, or you just love to see hot ladies in spandex, we’ve got something for you.
If you have a comic that you’d like to see me review, you can email me at mey [at] autostraddle [dot] com.
Are you a nerdy queer human who loves crossword puzzles? Do you wish your crosswords were a little less, well, heteronormative? Wouldn’t it be cool if you could donate some money to a queer cause and get some rad queer crosswords in return? If you answered yes to any of these questions, you are in luck, my friend! I would like to introduce you to Queer Qrosswords, I think you’re gonna love it.
Born from a desire to support queer organizations in a particularly dangerous political climate and create queerer crossword content, Queer Qrosswords is a collaborative effort inspired by Puzzles for Progress. Nate Cardin, organizer and editor of Queer Qrosswords, explains that the goal of the project is to “support fantastic and essential LGBTQ+ organizations while also increasing the representation of LGBTQ+ people and experiences in crosswords.” Since its inception, Queer Qrosswords has raised $14,009 with 373 donors!
If you’re not quite sold yet, there is a very cute section of the website titled “Who Would Enjoy Queer Qrosswords” and the answer is basically everyone! “Any and all crossword lovers, especially those in the LGBTQ+ community, any LGBTQ+ folks or allies who might be crossword-curious, those who value supporting indie communities and worthy charities, and your lovably nerdy teenager who just came out to you and needs to see themselves represented in one of their favorite hobbies (or soon-to-be hobbies)”! Like, okay, the NYT Sunday Crossword makes me feel like the least competent human on the planet and my father’s obsession with it through my childhood scared me away from crosswords for a long time but I feel ready to give this hobby another try thanks to this wonderfully queer packaging! You should join me!
I presume that by now you’re sold on this situation, so I’m going to tell you what to do to get your very own pack of 22 LGBTQ+ themed crosswords! 1. Donate at least $10 to an LGBTQ+ charity or organization. Queer Qrosswords has put together a list of their favorites (and Autostraddle and the A-Camp Arts and Resistance Fund make the list, so yes, you could definitely donate $10+ to Autostraddle dot com or to A-Camp and qualify to receive your queer crosswords, mmhmm, you really could!) but you don’t need to choose off their compilation – as long as the organization focuses on LGBTQ+ lives, experiences, and/or resources you’re golden. 2. Forward the receipt to Nate Cardin at queerqrosswords [at] gmail [dot] com and he’ll respond ASAP with a PDF version of Queer Qrosswords. Boom! You’re done!
If you want to get a good idea of the difficulty level of the whole puzzle set before obtaining it, you can check out the sample puzzle on the Queer Qrosswords website. If it looks good to you, donate, send in your receipt, receive your PDF, print out your crosswords, and let’s get nerdy together! It would be very very cute to host a local Autostraddle meet-up where everyone brings a crossword and a brunch item and you have a Queer Qrosswords Sunday Brunch Scenario, JUST SAYING. But also if you actually do that, please take pictures and send them to vanessa [at] autostraddle [dot] com immediately so I can make a cute gallery for this very website and also so I can die nerdy and joyful.
Happy Qrosswording!
It should come as no surprise that I prefer narrative-driven games. They were the very first thing I wrote about on this here website, and I think close to half of the games I’ve reviewed since then have been visual novels. What can I say? I’m a sucker for a good story, so I usually prioritize that above perfect mechanics or exceptionally challenging gameplay.
I’ve been playing Horizon Zero Dawn for the past few months, and I was first drawn to it, as usual, because of Aloy and her story. (And, well, because Ashly Burch. Duh.) And although I did for sure engage with the story from the beginning, it wasn’t until the first combat that I was fully hooked. I mean, holy smokes! I get to hunt and ride giant robotic dinosaur things? That’s cool as heck. Even though the controls are complex, everything feels remarkably intuitive and challenging in a good way.
It’s very possible that the approximately one million combat hours I’ve put toward HZD so far might be why — for the first time in recent memory — I sought out a game specifically because of its gameplay instead of just its story. Celeste is that game, and I’m here to tell you that it turns out that it’s is so much more than just a collection of very difficult levels. (But it’s definitely that, too.)
Just keep climbing.
Celeste is a game about a girl named Madeline. She has come to the notoriously perilous Celeste Mountain with a single-minded focus: she will reach Celeste’s summit no matter what. It becomes clear pretty quickly that Madeline is at a crossroads in her life, though we never find out exactly what events led her here. What we do know is that she feels like she has something to prove — to strangers, to her mother, but mostly to herself.
It’s incredibly relatable. Who hasn’t, at some point in their life, wanted (or needed) to do something big and tangible to prove that they aren’t a failure? Maybe your goal, like Madeline, is to climb a mountain, or maybe you want to run a marathon or to finish that novel, or whatever just popped into your head as you were reading this — whatever that thing is — it’s something you can point to and say, “Hey. I’m not a total fuck up, see? I did this.”
Getting there, though, is no easy feat. Celeste’s gameplay is probably the most challenging I’ve come across. There were multiple stages that I stared at for seconds, or even minutes, before attempting, because they looked actually impossible to complete. The main controls are fairly limited: you can move, crouch, jump, dash, and hang onto or climb vertical surfaces (but only for a limited time — stay there too long and you’ll slide down). The trick is combining them in just the right way; dash a split second too late or land a few inches too high on a wall and you’re dead.
Thank you bird friend!
And I sure did die a lot! Like, hundreds of times each level amount of a lot. Thankfully, it’s not permadeath (I think then it really would be impossible) and you rarely lose more progress than whatever you can see on the screen at the time. The game evolves as you make your way up the mountain, with new challenges like fire and wind appearing at different points. Luckily, the game also introduces mechanics to help, too — things like green diamonds that give you an additional air dash if you pass through them.
In retrospect, this is actually a relatively easy stage.
Even though the game is hard, Celeste lets you control how tough you want things to be with something called Assist Mode. Using Assist Mode, you don’t just change the level of difficulty using preset options, you can instead adjust specific features to decide exactly how much help you need for any given stage. You can do something as minor as slowing the game speed down to 90%, or as major as turning on invincibility and giving yourself an infinite amount of air dashes.
You can tell when invincibility is turned on because Madeline’s hair is pink
Visually, Celeste combines several different styles: 8-bit for the actual gameplay, smooth 3D modeling for the title/instruction screens, and illustration for the end of chapter scenes. On paper, it seems like it should probably be a disjointed hodgepodge of art, but somehow it works and each style brings a different dimension to the game. The color palette is consistently gorgeous, full of cool and vibrant tones, and it helps to tie everything together.
Not to be outdone by the visuals or gameplay, the sound throughout the game is also absolutely top notch. Celeste’s soundtrack is beautiful; the music scoring the mood of each stage perfectly, whether it’s triumphant or suspenseful or haunting or something else entirely.
And even though the dialogue is all written and only “spoken” in a vaguely adults-in-Peanuts kind of way, the voice acting is super expressive. When Madeline was scared or sad, her little voice hurt my heart. I’m not sure how to fully explain it, but it’s somehow very cute while being tragic and distressing all at the same time?
Also very cute is Theo, a fellow hiker that Madeline meets along the way. I will admit that I was a bit wary of him at first — I didn’t want Madeline’s journey of self-reflection to turn into a story about how the love of a boy can save you. Thankfully and happily I can tell you that there is no compulsory heterosexuality in Celeste! In fact, the most romantic vibes I got from the whole game were when Theo was maybe trying to set Madeline up with his sister. (At least, that’s how I read that scene.)
Wingman-Theo at your service
As they make their way up the mountain, Theo reveals himself to be a very good friend. He helps Madeline breathe through a panic attack and Madeline returns the favor later by rescuing him from a creepy temple. But even with Theo along for the ride, the story remains Madeline’s through and through. It’s all about Madeline’s obstacles — both on the mountain and within herself — and she doesn’t need any saving to overcome them.
And how does Madeline overcome her obstacles? Well, you do not have to worry about any specific ending spoilers here, because when I finished Celeste it was after playing D&D/drinking beers for several hours. I turned on the aforementioned invincibility and infinite air dashes, and I just absolutely tore through the last few chapters.
Way back toward the beginning of the game, when I first turned on Assist Mode, there was a disclaimer about how Celeste is supposed to be very challenging and that they recommend playing without help your first time through. At the time, I thought it was a little gimmicky, but now that I’ve finished the game using Assist Mode aggressively I do wish I had heeded the warning more seriously and used the features in Assist Mode as more of a last resort.
Even though (or maybe because) I didn’t complete all chapters of the game without help, I really enjoyed the resolution of Madeline’s journey. Along the way, her attitude shifts little by little. Madeline still wants to summit Celeste Mountain, but the desperate notion that all of her self-worth is tied up in this one climb slips away as she learns more about herself. It’s a really affirming and satisfying game, especially if you’re like me and tend to put a lot of pressure on yourself.
Celeste is available on lots of platforms — I played on PS4, but you could play on Switch or Xbox One or PC/Mac/Linux, whichever you want! I adored this game so much; I am already planning to attempt another playthrough without Assist Mode despite my ever growing “to play” list of new games.
by rory midhani
This past weekend I was in Las Vegas for ClexaCon, a huge fan con that’s all about queer women in TV and movies, and I had the luck to meet Lisa Franklin, a cartoonist from New York who makes the very funny, very gay and very cute four panel webcomic called My Two Lesbian Ants. We had just gotten out of a panel and she told me about her comic and when I went back to my room to check it out, I fell in love. As the title suggests, her comic follows a group of lesbian ants as they dig tunnels, try to date and talk to each other about life, and let me just say, it is a giggle fest.
Each comic is pretty simple in its set up. We usually see two or three ants — a combination of Angie, Peggy and Sandro — but sometimes there are others, and it’s just four simple panels that usually ends in a gag. It’s the kind of comic you’d see in a newspaper, but it’s gay and a lot funnier than Dilbert.
There’s a beautiful art to traditional four-panel comics and Franklin is showing off her skills as an artist in this comic. She has no space to waste in her comics, and so she doesn’t. Instead, she sets up and executes these classic gay jokes with pizzazz, as her comic would say. The art isn’t anything fancy, but it doesn’t need to be, and the ants that populate the comic give it a charming and familiar feel that welcomes you home. She’s even able to get a decent about of character growth in these short gag strips. Sometimes a simple comic is the best way to deliver a joke and Franklin is proving that.
Some of my favorite MTLA strips are when Franklin makes Very Lesbian jokes about dating and love. Whether it’s celebrating an anniversary for you and your ex or winning a bronze medal in the Olympics, these lesbian ants are just like lesbian people. They’re full of emotions and always want to talk about them, but rarely want to actually deal with them in any productive way. They’re both too nervous to talk to girls and too gay to ever talk to guys. They want good ant representation in the media they watch. They freak out and throw up when a girl ant actually says “yes” to going on a date with them. Lesbian Ants! They’re just like us!
Franklin is approaching comic #100, which should happen this week. You can keep up with the comic on both twitter and instagram, where Franklin updates her comic three times a week, on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday. You can also follow Franklin herself on twitter.
Tomb Raider: Survivor’s Crusade #4
Batgirl and the Birds of Prey #21
Wonder Woman by George Perez Vol 3 TP
Ducktales Mysteries & Mallards TP
America Vol 2 TP Fast and Fuertona
Welcome to Drawn to Comics! From diary comics to superheroes, from webcomics to graphic novels – this is where we’ll be taking a look at comics by, featuring and for queer ladies. So whether you love to look at detailed personal accounts of other people’s lives, explore new and creative worlds, or you just love to see hot ladies in spandex, we’ve got something for you.
If you have a comic that you’d like to see me review, you can email me at mey [at] autostraddle [dot] com.
by rory midhani
Way back in July I talked to former Autostraddle writer and intern and Lumberjanes co-creator Grace Ellis about her first ever solo series, Moonstruck and now I’m back talking about it again as the series’ mystical and mysterious first trade Vol 1: Magic to Brew has just been released. Moonstruck is a slice-of-life fantasy series about a town that has some human residents, but is mostly full of people who are werewolves, centaurs, minotaurs, vampires, witches and other magical and fantasy creatures. Our main character is Julie, a chubby Latinx werewolf barista who’s more than a little bit sensitive and more than a little bit gay. The rest of the main cast includes Chet, a centaur barista who uses they/them pronouns and Julie’s girlfriend and fellow werewolf, Selena. What at first seems like a pretty straightforward coffee shop fantasy love story quickly becomes a daring adventure about embracing and celebrating diversity and the things that make you unique.
At the beginning of the second issue, we see Julie and Selena going on a date, but before things can get too mushy and romantic, the magic show they’re attending goes really weird. The magician starts going on a rant about the true meaning of magic, and then before the audience knows what’s up, he pulls something they didn’t even think he could — he turns Chet the centuar into Chet the regular, non-magic person — and then he vanishes. Obviously this freaks everyone out, but especially Chet, who now has to live with the body dysphoria of losing something that was an essential part of who they are. The rest of this first trade follows Julie, Chet, Selena and their vision-having witch friend Cass as they try to figure out who this mysterious magician is and how they can stop him and get Chet’s pony butt back.
Grace Ellis does a great job at writing a story that feels very much like her. The main themes of the book are about friends supporting each other and people learning to love themselves. Julie is sensitive, especially about being a werewolf and not a “normal” human, and we see her stressing out every time someone calls her “puppy” or she starts to transform. Her girlfriend loves her, but doesn’t understand and can sometimes be a little harsh. Chet loves themself and wants their friends to love themselves, but the’re also hilarious and zany enough to make even the heavier moments light. Throughout these five issues we see each one learn some lessons about themselves and each other. Ellis also did a great job of giving each character their own unique voice and they work really well with each other in a way that makes their relationships seem so much more real.
The art, by Shae Beagle, is absolutely wonderful. They combine big and bold hairstyles and fashion choices with a great take on body diversity to make all the characters uniquely themselves in a way that helps to emphasize the point the comic makes about celebrating diversity. In both word and art, this book celebrates people who look different from the very small and select mold that people are supposed to fit in. And none of that is even mentioning that they’ve done a wonderful job designing new and interesting takes on classic fantasy and magic creatures like ghosts and werewolves. Beagle, and colorist Caitlyn Quirk also do an incredible job of making the magic in this world seem real and seem big. When you see the spells and magical forces splashing around the page, there’s no way you can think they’re a minor part of the story, they seem formidable and leave you with a sense of wonder, just like magic should be.
Moonstruck Vol 1: Magic to Brew is available online and in bookstores now.
Angel Season 11 Vol 3 Dark Reflections TP
Supergirl Vol 3 Girl of No Tomorrow Rebirth TP
Welcome to Drawn to Comics! From diary comics to superheroes, from webcomics to graphic novels – this is where we’ll be taking a look at comics by, featuring and for queer ladies. So whether you love to look at detailed personal accounts of other people’s lives, explore new and creative worlds, or you just love to see hot ladies in spandex, we’ve got something for you.
If you have a comic that you’d like to see me review, you can email me at mey [at] autostraddle [dot] com.
Annie Mok is a cartoonist, illustrator, and musician who lives in Philadelphia. I don’t remember when I first came across her work — maybe I was searching for other trans woman artists on Twitter? — but I was struck by it immediately.
Her comics vacillate between charmingly smudgy, nervous, and chaotic, and intricately detailed. They are always incredibly personal, disarmingly matter-of-fact, and intimidatingly gorgeous. They are mostly about her own life and ideas, and often discuss or utilize nerd culture to explore big ideas (Knuckles Comics uses Sega’s Sonic franchise to discuss Proust, for example). Many of her comics center around video games, and recently she decided it was time to create her own!
“They Say That I’m a Witch” was created as a collaboration between Mok and DJ Delish, who co-wrote the story and also provided its soundtrack. It isn’t a “video” game, per se. It doesn’t have any video, or even visual, elements. Instead it’s a text-based “choose your own adventure”-type game; you select from two protagonists (semi-autobiographical versions of the creators) and go through vignettes in their life, switching between 1998 and the present. At certain key moments, you’re required to make a decision, which will affect your path through the game — like a WRPG or a Japanese visual novel.
I don’t want to give away any of the story, because the game is quite short — it can be completed in a single sitting. That being said, playing a game with a trans woman protagonist was exhilarating. Traveling back in time to school days, and getting to confront one’s bully, hit me viscerally. I found myself going through the game over and over, choosing all of the different options to see how things would play out differently, and trying to conceptualize the simultaneous paths of both protagonists and how their stories mirrored each other thematically.
The game works best in the Chrome browser and can be downloaded from Annie’s Gumroad for only $2.00. At that link, you can see many of her other comics and games, much of it free! This TDOV, support an independent trans woman creator and have some introspective fun while you’re at it!
Hi hello and welcome to springtime, when the weather has no predictable pattern and neither does my attention span. I am having a very hard time doing anything for more than a few minutes at a time. Maybe it’s because I have new cats and I want to see where they are and what they are doing every minute of every day? Maybe it is because I have new cats and one of them does not like when I pay attention to things that are not in the cat food closet?
What I am trying to tell you is that my hands are covered in tiny scratches and I don’t really know what videogames everybody is playing right now. But here are things I have picked up for five minutes or thirty minutes or maybe even an entire hour at a time lately.
My girl likes to murder all the time.
I’ve played this before, when it came out originally on Playstation 3, but now I’m playing it on my computer which is even better because I can cheat when I get to the part I got stuck at the first time I played. The Borderlands games, if you somehow have never played one, are pretty straightforward shoot-and-loot adventure rpgs, but the writing is fun and charming to a sometimes startling degree. Plus, all the way back to the first game they’ve always had at least one woman character to choose from, which is a thing I like. They hold up really well and I keep coming back to them the same way I do with Skyrim and Fallout. A fourth game is in development now and I’m hoping to see an announcement for it at E3 in June, but who knows.
Play these if you like arcade-y shooters and Diablo-style looting. They are great for playing alone, and even greater for playing co-op with up to three other people. Mayhem! What could be better!
I really want to incriminate this boy.
This game is about four hours long, but it’s broken down into days so it’s easy enough to play a little at a time. Would you like to be a part of the Surveillance State? Probably not, right? But on the other hand, would you like to snoop around in people’s personal business and solve crimes? Kind of, yes! This game makes you part of an experimental government program wherein people are given the job of The Machine from Person of Interest to stop terrorism but also probably put a lot of innocent people in jail at the same time because everything is horrible. You uncover more story by submitting information into the system, forcing you to become more and more complicit. It’s very stressful and compelling! I played it once, getting a kind of middle-of-the-road ending, but I want to try again to see if I can go full revolutionary or maybe just try to blame the men for everything. There’s a sequel to this that was recently released that I’ll probably also pick up at some point. I really liked this game.
Excuse me?
Codebreaking! Really that’s all this is. Every room gives you a brief lesson on the history of a certain type of cryptography, then lets you loose to try to solve a handful of puzzles using that kind of code. It’s honestly super difficult. If you want to figure out how your own brain works, this game will teach you a few things about yourself. The straight up logic puzzles were a joy for me to work on, but some other puzzles are just like “Legit the words are just diagonal, you dummy” and my brain just could not see it. You’ll want a pencil and paper handy for this one, because it will be necessary for solving a lot of the puzzles and also because you’ll feel like a real secret genius leaving nonsensical codebreaking notes all over the house.
If you think this game has given me sympathy for the MBTA, you are wrong.
I actually just started playing this last night but I am at least temporarily obsessed with it. It’s sort of a puzzle game, but more like an incredibly simplistic city builder. You have to create train lines to connect neighborhoods as they pop up. Every neighborhood is represented by a shape, and you want all of your train lines to connect to at least one of every shape so passengers can get to everywhere as easily as possible. It starts out peaceful and relaxing but the longer it goes, the bigger the map gets and the higher the volume of passengers gets, until suddenly civilization collapses because your stations are too crowded. The UI is simple and gorgeous and the sound is also really calming and nice. Clean UI and design is so pleasing to me I cannot even put it into words, and this game really scratches an itch just by looking so correct.
I am winning, i promise!
Okay, this game is actually one of my top ten games released last year, even though it’s still in early access. It’s a roguelite card-combat game. It’s simple and approachable, but also very hard and surprisingly deep in terms of strategy. You have to build your deck on the fly, so you pick a meta early and hope you get the right cards to make it work. It forces you to try different approaches and playstyles. I’ve only beat it once, but I keep coming back for more punishment. The gameplay is just really tight, everything works really well, and every time I lose I feel like if I had drawn one different card or if I could have afforded that one trinket from the shop I might just have pulled out the win. The game is updated weekly, and They’ve recently added daily runs, so you can see how much worse you are at the game than everybody else is. Or how much better, if you are not me. I love it. I want everybody to play it.
There’s a lot going on here, but basically, sadism is a virtue.
This is a management/strategy game where you play as the person in charge of a culty island that worships some kind of big bad, and you need to keep everybody sufficiently ignorant and pious and disciplined to please the gods, while also finding out people’s strengths and weaknesses so you can choose the perfect human sacrifice at the end of every season. It’s pretty messed up! And it turns out keeping cultists happy is just as difficult as keeping the trains running on time in Mini Metro. I am glad to know for sure now that I definitely do not want to be in charge of a cult. The art in this game is in a two-color woodblock printing style. It’s very nice to look at.
Besides Borderlands, which you can play on basically everything, the rest of these I played on my Windows laptop. Some are also playable on Macs, and a couple might even have mobile ports (Mini Metro does, for sure.) What are you playing lately? What should I be playing? How do I make a giant cat stop scratching my videog ame chair?
by rory midhani
The Legend of Korra comic book is at full steam and recently a second volume, The Legend of Korra: Turf Wars Part Two, was released. Ostensibly, the plot continues to follow the fallout of the Spirit World portal opening, and then the fight between gang members and spirits at the end of the first book. While Korra is trying to figure out how to get the Spirit World back on her side and the side of the people, and she’s trying to balance the two worlds, she also has to put up with the President essentially turning the Spirit Portal into a war zone. Asami is building a housing complex for refugees, but ends up on the bad side of new Triads. Mako, Bolin and Lin Bei Fong are trying to shut down the Triads once and for all. And if you thought Tokuga was a threat in the first book of this series, boy howdy have you got a surprise in store for you. Now, all of that is going on while we also have the Korrasami relationship at the forefront of the whole thing.
I was about to write, “this book almost seems like fan service,” but, nope, it doesn’t just seem that way; it is fan service. So much of the book is focused on Korra and Asami and their relationship. There would be times when Mako and Bolin would show up and I would think, “oh yeah, they’re kind of main characters too.” Even when they do show up, we get to see Bolin pointedly remind Mako that both of his ex-girlfriends are dating each other in a brilliant moment that reminds us who won that shipping war. Korra and Asami continue to grow as a couple and have struggles and victories and flaws and special moments that really flesh them out as both individual characters and as a couple.
One plot point in the book could easily turn into a bad trope for women — but by queering it, the series takes one huge step away from that. Plus, because of the track record of the series I’m fully confident they’ll do even more to sidestep it and turn into something really awesome for both Korra and Asami. That’s one of the things I love most about this series, both the cartoon and the comic; they’re so great at turning tropes on their head and turning them into great moments for representation. If the third book in the series is anywhere near as good as the first two, this is going to be one of the best action comic arcs I’ve ever read.
Of course, Irene Koh’s art remains a perfect fit for this book. Not only is she a queer Asian-American woman, but her style is dynamic and fluid and she does an incredible job of expanding on the fashion and style of the series. In this book we see some people looking like we’ve never seen before in the Avatar world. Koh has drawn in people wearing hijabs and head coverings, something that makes total sense for a fantasy society based partially on South Asia. There’s also a delightfully villainous character we get to see more of, Jargala Omo, who is clearly inspired by Bangladeshi and Indian cultures. Also, if you ask me, I think she might be a trans woman. Koh is the perfect artist for this project and I’m so excited that the future of Korrasami is in her hands.
Steven Universe Vol 2 Punching Up TP
DC Comics Bombshells Vol 6 War Stories TP
Captain Marvel Carol Danvers Vol 1 Ms. Marvel Years TP
Mighty Thor Vol 3 Asgard Shiar War
Moon Girl and Devil Dinosaur #29
Welcome to Drawn to Comics! From diary comics to superheroes, from webcomics to graphic novels – this is where we’ll be taking a look at comics by, featuring and for queer ladies. So whether you love to look at detailed personal accounts of other people’s lives, explore new and creative worlds, or you just love to see hot ladies in spandex, we’ve got something for you.
If you have a comic that you’d like to see me review, you can email me at mey [at] autostraddle [dot] com.