91. In the Coils of the Snake Clare Dunkle (3.5/5)

I liked this one better than Close Kin, despite my disappointment at the relative absence of familiar characters.

Miranda has been raised in the human world, but ever since she was a child she has been groomed by Marak to become the human wife of his son, Catspaw. But when Catspaw, now the Goblin King, discovers a that a living, civilized group of elves has returned to their old territory, he cannot pass up the opportunity to arrange a truce in exchange for an elf wife. Suddenly robbed of her destiny, Miranda flees the goblin world and runs straight into Nir, the new elf lord, who magically binds her to him for reasons even he doesn't understand.

In some ways this is more slowly paced than Close Kin, but the story is tighter, and the political wranglings of the goblins and elves are fraught with tension. Dunkle does a better job here, I felt, handling the issue of captive brides; we learn some of the history of the practice, and the ways in which it has been both the savior and the downfall of both the goblins and the elves. Which still doesn't address the issue of how eventually all the women in the books happily settle down into their new life, but it's a start, and it also serves to emphasize that the goblins and elves are not humans dressed up in pretty clothes or ugly costumes.

92. Heaven Angela Johnson (5/5)

This was such a sensitive and delicate little novel that I checked several times to see if I was actually reading one of Jacqueline Woodson's best.

Fourteen-year-old Marley lives an almost idyllic existence in the little town of Heaven. Her parents love her, she gets along with her brother (mostly), and she's built a family of friends of all ages who watch out for her. Plus, there are the letters from Uncle Jack, who she's never met, but who writes her regularly and tells her about his life on the road and his dog named Boy. When Marley learns that everything about her family isn't the way it seems, it forces her to re-examine life and her place in it.

This is a novel that, despite its brevity, does not go for easy answers or one-dimensional characters. Everyone has a depth to them. Marley's voice feels authentic; while she is clearly intelligent and sensitive, she is also fourteen and confused, and it comes through beautifully. I loved this book.

93. Runaways, Vol. 1: Pride & Joy Brian K. Vaughan (3/5)

Most teenagers are disillusioned when they discover their parents are not who they thought they were, but in the case of Alex, Nico, Karolina, Gertrude, Molly, and Chase, the disillusionment is particularly shocking: their parents are actually supervillains, part of a syndicate known as The Pride.

It takes a little bit for this to get going, and this volume deals mainly with the unmasking of their parents as villains, and the kids uncovering their own special powers. The artwork for the most part is good; occasionally people's mouths protrude in ways that I found odd, but on the other hand, the kids basically look like actual people in terms of their varying body types.

I've really enjoyed Brian K. Vaughan's writing on other series (Ex Machina, Y: The Last Man), so that's mostly what prompted me to pick this up. Now I'm rather hooked, and I plan on reading any of the volumes I can snag through the library.

94. Runaways, Vol. 2: Teenage Wasteland Brian K. Vaughan (3/5)

In this, the second volume of the Runaways series, the Runaways are still functioning basically in crisis mode, as they try to figure out how to stay out of the reach of The Pride and generally keep themselves alive. Life is further complicated by the arrival of Cloak and Dagger, who have been hired by the L.A. Police to hunt the kids down.

I am really looking forward to reading the third volume of this series. It's basically candy, but it's very tasty candy.

95. Death Note, Vol. 1 Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata (2.5/5)

This is an intriguing premise: a Death God has purposefully dropped his Death Note, a notebook that allows the bearer to sentence anyone to death simply by writing their name in the book. A young man named Light picks up the book, and after a few false starts, embarks on a mission to kill all of the world's most notorious criminals and create a utopia. Interpol, however, considers the deaths to be the act of a serial killer, and a mysterious supersleuth known only as "L" is brought onto the case.

I enjoyed the art, and like I said, the premise is intriguing, but I wasn't entirely satisfied with the overall execution. There is very little complexity to the plot thus far, and the way the author continues to add on additional rules regarding the use of Notebook feels like slapdash writing instead of trickiness on the part of the Death God. I think I'll give the next volume a chance, but I don't really anticipate getting super into this series.

96. Jackie Ormes: The First African American Woman Cartoonist Nancy Goldstein (3/5)

This is a somewhat lackluster treatment of a fascinating and important woman.

First, the positives: Jackie Ormes, who worked as a cartoonist in the black press for nearly three decades, definitely is past due for a full book-length treatment. Because her work was mainly single-panel cartoons, and because she did not work in the mainstream press, Ormes has often been overlooked in discussions of the history of comics and cartooning. It's wonderful that this has been remedied. The book is a thing of beauty, as well; nice glossy pages, big margins, and a large enough format that the sometimes-muddy reproductions of Ormes' art (muddy because they have been reproduced from microfilm, not due to any fault of the author or the artist!) are intelligible and as clear as possible. There are eighty reproductions of Ormes' popular "Patty-Jo n' Ginger" single-panel comic, as well as representative samples of her serial comics "Dixie to Harlem" and "Torchy in Heartbeats."

Nancy Goldstein's writing, however, is pedestrian, and she frequently repeats the same information. The first section of the book, a biography of Ormes, is something of a slog because of this. Perhaps the biggest problem, from my perspective, is that Goldstein originally came to the topic of Ormes' life through interest in doll collecting and the Patty-Jo doll. Thus, Goldstein's analyses of Ormes' talents and role as an artist are pretty shallow, and frequently glossed over in favor of discussion of the fashions displayed in the comics and information about the Patty-Jo doll. The book tends to feel a bit like it's neither fish nor fowl; the biography is pretty sketchy, the art isn't deeply analyzed, and even the interesting historical and sociological aspects of the Patty-Jo doll are often glossed over.

In all, I would tend to think of this book as a good start. Ormes deserved the book-length treatment, and perhaps this volume will spark interest in her life and artwork, giving rise to better books in the future.