The Creator's Guide to Comics Devices is OPEN!!!
comicsdevices.com
An online library of visual-narrative devices that are used in the medium of comics and other sequential art.
Happy Halloween! I'm really excited to be finally launching* what is maybe one of my most ambitious, largest work yet.
This online library is the next phase of a research project that began in May 2020, when I first mused on how comics as a field doesn't have a resource that catalogues devices used in the medium. Like, theatre has devices, so does literature, and film! So why shouldn't comics?
I always had an interest in comics studies and analysis. I love reading, making and thinking comics. However most of my knowledge was intuitive - I learned comics from osmosis and experience. This is true for many of my peers. Speaking about comics as a creator is hard, because we don't have a robust system of language. When we had to speak, many of us tend to reach for the language developed for film by film practitioners. If there is language specific to comics, it's either scattered in multiple blogs or hidden away in academic journals.
The Comics Devices library is meant to aggregate everything and everybody into a single hub! After exploring some multiple resources, alongside some original, independent research, here is the first edition!
* The Comics Devices project is still a work-in-progress! It's not final, nor will it ever be. This is why I am seeking contributors to help build this library. Translations, comics examples, etc. There is a lot of work to do! If you are interested, reply to this post or submit an expression of interest on this page.
Have fun everyone!!
(Now time for me to melt x_x)
love when men cry about body hair bc "it's hygiene" and yet 15% of cis men leave the bathroom without washing their hands at all and an additional 35% only just wet their hands without using soap. that is nearly half of all men. that means statistically you have probably shaken hands with or been in direct contact with one of these people.
love when men say that women "only want money" when it turns out that even in equal-earning homes, women are actually adding caregiver burdens and housework from previous years, whereas men have been expanding leisure time and hobbies. in equal-earning households, men spend an average of 3.5 hours extra in leisure time per week, which is 182 hours per year - a little over a week of paid vacation time that the other partner does not receive. kinda sounds like he wants her money.
love that men have decided women are frail and weak and annoying when we scream in surprise but it turns out it's actually women who are more reliable in an emergency because men need to be convinced to actually take action and respond to the threat. like, actually, for-real: men experience such a strong sense of pride about their pre-supposed abilities that it gets them and their families killed. they are so used to dismissing women that it literally kills them.
love it. told my father this and he said there's lies, damned lies, and statistics. a year ago i tried to get him to evacuate the house during a flash flood. he ignored me and got injured. he has told me, laughing, that he never washes his hands. he has said in the last week that women are just happier when we're cooking or cleaning.
maybe i'm overly nostalgic. but it didn't used to feel so fucking bleak. it used to feel like at least a little shameful to consider women to be sheep. it just feels like the earth is round and we are still having conversations about it being flat - except these conversations are about the most obvious forms of patriarchy. like, we know about this stuff. we've known since well before the 50's.
recently andrew tate tried to justify cheating on his partner as being the "male prerogative." i don't know what the prerogative for the rest of us would be. just sitting at home, watching the slow erosion of our humanity.
I truly, TRULY do not know how to say this, because the fact that I have to say it makes me feel like I am losing my grip on reality. But no, in the post-capitalistic anarchist utopia, I will not be relying on “autistic minecraft girlies” to be building inspectors because - and this may shock you - one of those occupations takes years of education in how to read and interpret hundreds of thousands of lines of regulations based on complicated math and physics that were the result of decades of tragedy and death, and the other one involves playing a children’s video game.
“i must have been real sweet on you,” eddie murmurs as he runs his fingers over his husband’s cheek, sleepy and sated, warm in their bed.
steve chuckles, twisting his head to catch the tips of eddie’s fingers with a kiss. “why are you talking past tense? you’re not sweet on me now?”
the room is peacefully still. years of baby monitors are long gone only to inevitably give way to their daughter’s teenage years of slamming doors and too loud stereo speakers. but in this moment, with the pale moonlight streaming in through the windows and crickets chirping in the distance, the room is peaceful, thick with love.
“quit your pouting, ‘course i’m sweet on you now.” eddie wipes away steve’s fake frown with a kiss, turning it into a sticky sweet grin. “it’s just something my mom used to tell me. that freckles are all the places your soulmate in a past life kissed you.”
eddie pushes steve back so he’s laying flat on the mattress and dips his head to press featherlight kisses on the side of his neck. across his shoulders. over his cheeks. his fingertips flutter over the spots afterwards, leaving goosebumps in their wake despite the heat radiating between them.
“must have loved you a whole lot in our last lives to leave so many on you now,” eddie whispers, pulling back to stroke the back of his hand over steve’s face once more, letting his lips curl up in a dopey half smile that only steve ever gets to see.
it doesn’t take long for steve to tilt his head up and press kisses of his own where he can; under eddie’s eye, the bottom of his chin, right over his heart. it doesn’t take long for eddie to giggle as his sensitive spots are found and attacked with ticklish kisses and fluttering eyelashes. it doesn’t take long for their legs to tangle together underneath the sheets and their breaths to get caught in their chests and their hearts to start beating a beautiful melody of their own making.
steve lays a firm kiss to the side of eddie’s chest, over jagged white scarring and half bitten away tattoos. over memories that somehow don’t haunt them as much anymore.
“what was that one for?” eddie asks, eyes half lidded, the adoration in his voice loud across the quiet room.
another kiss on another scar. “wanna give you some freckles. for your next life and for this one, too. so you know just how sweet on you I am-” kiss, “ -and was-” kiss, “- and forever will be.”
they won’t know for however many more years if it worked or not. but here in this lifetime, they have all the time in the world to try their damndest to make sure it does. in this lifetime, they don’t have to worry, because they know they’ll find each other in the next one.