So, I started reading Excalibur mainly due to a girl crush on Rachel Summers. She was bad ass, clad in red leather and spikes, with the power to devour worlds. But add in Kitty Pride, her dragon Lockheed, and Nightcrawler? Yeah. I’m there.
Yet I couldn’t tell you any of the storylines. I remember pages, specific panels, but not a single plot point, really. Just Rachel floating in space, on fire, looking down on worlds and stars. It didn’t really feel like an X-Men spinoff, and the sheer number of women was really attractive. My interest was quickly grabbed by other, richer stories, but I do remember Excalibur with quite a bit of fondness.
One of my favorite picture books was Did I Ever Tell You How Lucky You Are? It’s a total departure from the usual upbeat tone of Seuss books; a bizarre endorsement of schadenfreude. The premise is that no matter how bad your life is, other people have it worse. The pictures are desolate and existentialist. I remember that reading it really stressed me out but I was also perversely fascinated with it. Kind of like how people read horror stories and enjoy being scared. The imagery was sparse, desolate, and surreal, as though Salvador Dali had done the drawings. This was my first scary story.