I will never stop sighing. Every time my eye falls on this book, I heave a huge sigh. Oh, expectations. I am your slave and you always make my life more difficult if you possibly, possibly can. Why are you like this? It has been ten thousand years since I read a graphic novel that made my heart sing. Yes. Ten thousand. That’s how many years it has been. I haven’t read a graphic novel that made my heart sing since the year 7990 BCE.

Unless Gunnerkrigg Court and The Unwritten count. Just, like, no graphic novel has blown me away for a while now. I loved Bayou and Ordinary Victories, but those were, as previously mentioned, ten thousand years ago. I wanted I Kill Giants to rock my world, and although it was good, it wasn’t quite what I was expecting (hoping).

I Kill Giants is good. It is good! It’s good! It’s about a ten-year-old girl called Barbara who claims that her goal in life is to hunt and kill giants. She wears bunny ears and acts up in school, and for reasons that are not explained, she is terrified to go upstairs. She resents and quarrels with her older sister, who is attempting to take care of everything at home, the cooking and the talking about problems. But Barbara isn’t having any. Nor is she interested in discussing her issues with the guidance counselor at work, who tries to talk to her about her problems with the teachers and other kids.

The thing is, the thing is — here’s the thing. I am not the biggest fan this world has ever seen of magical realism. It’s all well enough in its place, and sometimes I like it a reasonable amount, but most of the time I would say I would rather have magic, or realism. Not some half-ass both-at-once deal. I make exceptions for Salman Rushdie. That’s it. Just Salman Rushdie. If, upon mature reflection, you find yourself not to be Salman Rushdie (or, I guess, okay, Helen Oyeyemi), then make the smart decision: Don’t write magical realism. JUST PICK A SIDE.

Please tell me what graphic novels to read. I’m begging you. I miss them. I want to reread the Sandman, but when I get done with the Sandman, I want to have something equally amazing to read. Surely there is something? I want the Diana Wynne Jones of graphic novels! Which is…yes, the Sandman. Shut up. I want the other Diana Wynne Jones of graphic novels! I will perish if I do not get this straightaway!

I spent this whole weekend in my pajamas watching movies, writing blog posts, and reading Sandman. This may mean that I don’t deserve any good graphic novels, or it may mean I had a long and stressful week and deserve good graphic novels times infinity. I’m inclined toward the latter.

Believe these reviews, not mine:

things mean a lot
1330v
Rebecca Reads
The Zen Leaf
Stuff As Dreams Are Made On
Reading Rants
Book Sake

As ever, please tell me if I missed yours!

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