5 out of 5

I’ve written three comic book fan letters in my life: one ill-advised non-sober ramble to Joe Kelly – reading back over that one was pretty shameful, and I can’t recall which book, exactly, motivated it; one slobbery one to Steve Gerber that got a response, which I followed up, idiotically, with a ‘What happened with Howard the Duck?’ type question (this was before my reign as King of Finding Information Readily Available On the Internet) that didn’t get a response; and just recently, I was reading Chris Schweizer’s third volume of his Creeps series when I had to put the book down to jot out a quick e-mail of appreciation for the awesomeness I was fortunate to be reading.  (I got a response which only served to confirm my growing love for Chris’ work, so if the goal was for phrases like “I appreciate the kind words but the naked pictures of yourself ‘enjoying my book’ were quite unnecessary” to discourage my passions – HOW HE HAS FAILED.*)

*None of this happened, but on separate occasions I have written an e-mail and have read books and have been naked, so it is “based on true events,” and though I can’t confirm at this point, possibly the setup of the upcoming Transformers sequel.

Not to diminish the importance of those three letter-writing events, but there have certainly been other times when I’ve wanted to write, or to join a letter column conversation.  To get a letter published in a Turtles comic, or to get my two cents in on the backmatter of some book of the month.  But the letter and possible responses play out in my head, and I end up not writing because I realize… what I just said: That the focus is on seeing the letter published.  There’s nothing wrong with that, but I’ve been maintaining a catalogue of reviews here where I get to vomit my opinion on the regular, without the stress of seeing or not seeing some response that isn’t exactly what you not-so-secretly wanted.  So to me, those times where I did actually write were when it wasn’t motivated by that pingback need; I just wanted to express that I liked something.

Had I been sober, I probably wouldn’t have written to Joe (no offense, Mr. Kelly), and with Gerber, I felt like I was super late to the party.  So I’m going to further separate my experience in reading The Creeps and the letter it prompted as it felt very, very Of The Moment.  Clear-headed, each page underlining more and more how effective and accomplished and entertaining I felt like the book was.  The dam finally broke when I laughed out loud at a sequence.   (Yes, I’m the sweaty guy on the treadmill at the gym, laughing to himself while reading youth fiction.)  There had been a run of clever dialogue and fun visual gags leading up to that sequence that had me smiling ear-to-ear as I flipped pages, and I really couldn’t believe the particular gag when it landed.  It was all telegraphed, and yet still immensely satisfying and organic, which is a skill Chris has repeatedly displayed in these books – taking some fairly predictable action adventure tropes and fashioning them into the most sensational read – and it was on point for every page of volume three.  This particular gag involved some man-eating pumpkins, a disbelieving deputy, and some fingers.  And I promise you its just one page of many such examples that will wow you not just with their whip-smart written and visual humor, but also in the way the book’s characters become flooded with personality, which is really how those mentioned tropes end up becoming so revitalized.

Our monster-investigating kids, the eponymous Creeps crew, got slightly shorted on personality last volume, as the focus on Troll lore and the story’s ongoing-chase structure didn’t allow much room for the foursome to work their individual magics, but everyone has their piece to play in Attack-o-Lanterns, both separately and working as a team.  And somehow within these 120 pages, Chris also fits in Sheriff Obie and newcomer Ms. Bitterwood, used initially as specific plot foils (well-meaning patriarch; creepy antagonist) before they each get fleshed out by the story.  I’d also knock the art up a notch: both previous volumes had some busy scenes that were full of a lot of energy; volume 3 has multiple crowd sequences with a fantastic amount of detailing and the final act balloons up in scope in a way I was floored by but wasn’t expected, but Chris wrangles it all in to his panels and pages with stunning slickness.  I don’t want to give a particular shot away, but as our heroes are escaping from a large threat, the blocking in the main panel – the way the figures fall in front of the sound effects; the way the color was digitally tweaked just enough to add depth – is flawless.  I really felt like you get the intended full range of emotions here, thrills, laughs, etcetera, and that’s due to the cohesiveness of the presentation.

I could add some praise here to the colors – opening up the palette from the first two books’ purposefully limited schemes made for some gorgeous pages – and the inking/shading – now landing on a balance between more fine-lined definition and the expressive, thick smudges – but certainly you’ve gotten the point by now that I loved this book.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got more Schweizer books to read on treadmills while I smile to myself.