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I like the title; I like the cover images; I like the setup. This has held true for several of Joseph Schmalke’s series: a creator with an apparent backlog of generally horror-themed tales that smash together some tropes in unexpected / inventive ways, producing fun and grabbing premises. Schmalke also has the passion to go at his work as both writer and artist, purusing the biggest of scopes and trying to push his limited style to accommodate; that has negatives, of course – which do affect the rating – but I really do admire his dedication to keep pushing (and improving).

What’s also often been true, unfortunately, is that Schmalke’s tales can fall apart as they go on, coming across as rushed when the story gets bigger than the books can support. Though I think it’s moreso that Joseph’s style (writing and drawing) just doesn’t scale up well: the more intimate his horror stories, the better.

We Don’t Kill Spiders exactly follows the above trends, pitching a Viking-era detective murder mystery that crosses over into mythological lore of the time, which is 100% a badass idea. And things really hold up at the start, as we’re introduced to tough-guy-for-hire Bjorn, brought to a small village to investigate the slaughter of a family; and the witch once banished from the land, Revna, who is thought to have done the slaughterin’. Both of these characters are well-realized, and not caricatures: Schmalke has a strong vision of Bjorn as a person of reason, and Revna the same in a way, each motivated by their individual drives, and similarly, the book gives us a competent throughline for why Bjorn’s been brought in, the viciousness of the crime, and what brings Bjorn to interrogate Revna as an innocent-until-proven-guilty suspect, instead of vice versa. Schmalke’s preference for bold, flat colors flows juxtaposes well with his stiff, heavy inks / linework and the terse tone.

Of course we align with Bjorn, that Revna is innocent, and thus an odd couple investigatory duo is established, much to the Revna-hating village’s chagrin. Perfect.

But from issue 2 onward, despite a compelling changeup regarding what we know about some characters, the book starts to crumble. We jump into action the book can’t quite sell – again, I appreciate the effort, but it’s to the extent where it’s often unclear exactly what impact / beat we’re supposed to be taking away from a scene – and there’s a sense that we’re zipping through things Joseph wanted to draw or write than what’s required for the story. The tightness of the concept dissipates; the title of the book hardly feels like it matters except that it sounded cool. Whatever we’ve learned about our cast isn’t really applied anywhere.

I wavered on how “bad” this makes the series – how much it affects the rating – but I realized, getting to the final issue of the arc, that I wasn’t even aware the story was wrapping up, and then it did. I was completely un-immersed. Sometimes, if the whole thing is average, it’s easier to swallow than when the beginning is that much stronger as compared to what followup, and I was feeling quite put off by that juxtaposition. And on closer review, the things that had drawn me to the series were short-lived, and the stronger story and character elements largely irrelevant.

I understand the struggle with these indie books, which probably don’t have the time to stick around and “earn” their readership, causing these seesaw vibes, trying to up the ante maybe too much and tell every part of some larger story you can within a limited amount of pages. This can kind of work in Joseph’s more ridiculous or over-the-top books, but Spiders had potential for a quieter, more patient story, and it’s a bummer we didn’t get to read that.