4 out of 5

While leaning more toward the type of indie bio ‘my life experiences are important’ comics that I’m not so keen on, issue 8 of Meanwhile… maintains editor John Anderson’s keen anthology sensibilities, sequencing and pairing together a good blend of strips and tones / visual styles.

Gary Spencer Millidge’s Strangehaven continues on its weird trajectory, told in its dry, soap-opera-y format while treating its own inherent oddities with a plaintive shrug.  This chapter is particularly satisfyingly Strangehaven-y and wonderful, with a first person account of being born and talking animals and stuffed animals.

Bad Bad Place typifies writer David Hine’s somewhat clumsy forward momentum writing style, but also showcases his quirky imagination, and gives Mark Stafford plenty more Place oddballs to dream up.  The history of the house is gripping.  This will make a great collected story.

Sarah Gordon’s The Collector continues to elicit a ‘meh’ from me.  The idea of a man collecting voices is interesting, but Gordon has yet to give the story any sense of trajectory.  Why is he doing this?  Where’s it going?  Meh.

Another entry of Ginny Skinner’s Psychic Lost Item Helpline, and I much preferred this to the opener, as it can now be focused on its mystery killer storyline without having to frontload it with an explanation of Gail Key’s abilities.  Wrapping up the entry with Key’s application of her quaint prowess was well effected.

The first part of Martin Simpson’s The Needleman makes for some fantastically moody artwork (and a grabbing cover), but the story seems to cover some pretty typical 1984-ish dystopia Feelings Are Outlawed stuff.  We’ll see how it turns out, though.

On the standalone front, we get:

• A sample of Ross Murray’s Rufus Marigold, which does the social misfit shtick with a lampshaded twist by having our POV outcast be a human-sized chimp.  Very droll, but amusing, with some great comic timing.
• Serge Baeken’s ode to cats, another snippet.  I dug the dreamlike flow of this day-in-the-life tale, but I frankly loathed the 24-panel format.  It just made my vision glaze over, but I’m sure that’s just a matter of taste.  The blocky, black and white art simply wasn’t stunning enough to make the format worth it for me.
• Steven Ingram gives us some quiet, park-sitting introspection, recognizing that we’re all just strangers to everyone else.  This was a fine slice of indie work, reflective without trying to hard to pontificate, and it had an actual conclusion!
• Work Hard, by Shing Yin Khor felt a tad forced – associating feelings I think many people have with a particular experience: that of the immigrant.  Removing that aspect, though, and just viewing it as a representation of a state of mind, it’s effective.
• Daryl Cunninham’s The First was a rather obvious political snipe, but that it goes over the top with its concept made it more amusing than not.
• Remember Me Later by Jonathan Scott, Labour by Boum, and Spinning by David Crane are the kind of personal artifacts that do nothing for me.  Whoops.