Review of Pig Wife on Comics Beat

I recently had the immense pleasure of writing a review for Comics Beat about Pig Wife, a massive graphic novel drawn by Abbey Luck, a Hollywood animator who specializes in Adult Swim style bizarro art. Pig Wife is definitely Hollywood, and it’s definitely got a Gen-X style “alternative” edge to it. Neither of these things is to my taste, usually, but I love Pig Wife for what it is: namely, a gothic “weird girl” coming-of-age story set in a not-quite abandoned labyrinth of mine tunnels in rural Pennsyltucky.

I say in my review that it’s easy to read this 500-page book in one sitting, and I mean it. Pig Wife tells an incredibly entertaining story; but, appropriately enough, there’s a lot going on below the surface. Here’s an excerpt from my review:

By forgoing the nuances of character, Pig Wife can focus entirely on plot, and the plot is a well-oiled machine that grabs the reader and aggressively drags them down into the tunnels. Moreover, by virtue of the broad strokes of its characterization, Pig Wife is also able to convey the allegorical elements of its scenario.

The coming-of-age story in which a young hero embarks on a journey has a universal appeal, but teenage girls (and slightly older girls, if they’re trans) often undergo a separate ascent from innocence to experience that I think of as “climbing out of the pit.” By “the pit,” I mean the everpresent tarpit of internalized sexism and misogyny, and the mine tunnels of Pig Wife are as good of a visualization of this pit as any.

You can read the full review on Comics Beat here:
https://www.comicsbeat.com/graphic-novel-review-pig-wife/

Review of Transfiguring Women in Late Twentieth-Century Japan

I had the immense honor of writing a short review of James Welker’s monograph Transfiguring Women in Late Twentieth-Century Japan for the online academic journal Studies on Asia. I have to admit that I love this book beyond reason. As a queer artist myself, this is something I’ve wanted since I first entered grad school – a serious and careful reading of classic shōjo manga that takes the actual lives and politics of the creators into account. Welker’s book is so smart, and so kind, and such a pleasure to read, honestly. Here’s an excerpt from my review:

Transfiguring Women in Late Twentieth-Century Japan is especially admirable in its clear and cogent demonstration that queer and feminist histories remain vitally relevant for our understanding of contemporary transcultural media flows. Welker is writing against the backdrop of intense (and often discursively violent) conversations on social media regarding the appropriation of queer and racialized identity among international fans of anime and manga. By demonstrating that both fictional stories and real-life communities in Japan have always engaged in a process of creatively transfiguring identity, Welker encourages the redirection of energy to an appreciation of the history and complexity of feminism and queer identity.

This monograph also serves as an important critical resource for the study of transcultural Japanese media cultures and a welcome reminder that, while the settings of manga may be fantastic, the concerns of their creators are grounded in social and political realities. Through the depth of Welker’s archival research and the insight of the interviews that illuminate the spaces between printed words, Transfiguring Women in Late Twentieth-Century Japan stands as a proud contribution to feminist scholarship on Japan’s intellectual history.

You can read the full review here:
https://studiesonasia.scholasticahq.com/article/154868-book-review

The Green Dreams of Kyō Machiko’s Manga

At this year’s Modern Language Association conference, I’m looking forward to giving a paper about historical memory, ecocriticism, and the work of the superstar manga artist Kyō Machiko. My paper is titled “The Green Dreams of Kyō Machiko’s Manga,” and I’ll be presenting in Session 658, “The Future of Graphic Narrative in Japan,” at 1:45pm on Sunday, January 11.

Let me share my abstract for the paper here:

Kyō Machiko is a graduate of Tokyo University of the Arts, and she won the prestigious Tezuka Osamu New Artist Prize in 2014. She’s since published more than two dozen books while attracting upwards of ninety thousand followers on her account on Instagram. In an interview with Matt Hill for The Comics Journal, Kyō explains that translations of her books have been published in Spain, Italy, Taiwan, Vietnam, and Korea, but she has not actively sought English-language publication because, she claims, “I am not a super major author in Japan.” Kyō’s modesty aside, her bibliography is impressive, and she typically publishes at least two softcover manga volumes every year while serializing multiple stories.

In June 2023, Kyō’s publisher Akita Shoten announced that her 2013 graphic novel Cocoon would be adapted into an anime. This film aired on the public broadcasting channel NHK during August 2025. Tateno Hitomi, who worked as an animator on Studio Ghibli films such as Spirited Away, Whisper of the Heart, and The Wind Rises, served as the chief animation producer. The level of care and talent dedicated to this cinematic adaptation is fitting, as Cocoon is an intensely upsetting story about an unfortunate chapter of Japanese history that’s nevertheless important to remember and pass on to future generations.

In this talk, I’ll introduce Kyō Machiko’s work and examine the critical relevance of her political messages. I’ll discuss Cocoon before turning to her more recent graphic novel Kamimachi. The argument I’d like to make is twofold. Specifically in relation to Kyō’s manga, I’ll demonstrate how the artist’s contextualization of characters within their natural environments facilitates an emphasis on the refuge sought by young women navigating a society that refuses to view them as human. As a broader observation that relates to this panel’s theme of “The Future of Manga Studies,” I want to argue that artistic political statements are no less trenchant and cutting when drawn in a “softer” style often associated with more entertainment-focused media.

If you’re interested in the subject of this presentation, I published an article about “Nature and War Memory in Kyō Machiko’s Cocoon” on Women Write About Comics (here), and I posted an informal reflection on the artist’s manga Kamimachi on my Japanese fiction blog (here).

Review of Witchcraft on Comics Beat

My most recent review for Comics Beat is about Witchcraft, a graphic novel by Sole Otero, an internationally famous Argentinian comic artist whose style has developed in a cool and unique way during the past decade. Witchcraft is a massive book, but it’s an incredible page turner. The writing is brilliant, and the art is both extremely stylized and exactly what it needs to be to tell the story, a gothic cautionary tale that jumps between the present day and various periods in the history of Buenos Aires. And the story is indeed about witches and magic and power. This book is so goddamn good, and I feel very honored to have been able to write about it. Here’s an excerpt:

Witchcraft is primarily set in Buenos Aires, and the narrative jumps between historical periods when the witches were active and the present day, when the gender politics of their activities are far more complicated. It would be easy to see the witches as feminist saviors as they run women’s clinics and shelter members of the local indigenous population, but their benevolence is called into question by the nature of their magic, which requires the victimization of men and the silent complicity of their fellow women. Instead of a feminist message, what Witchcraft offers is a fast-paced and high-stakes story about cycles of abuse and the human cost of the sacrifices necessary for the marginalized to survive.

You can read the full review on Comics Beat here:
https://www.comicsbeat.com/graphic-novel-review-witchcraft/

Strange Tales and Modern Legends

My zine Strange Tales and Modern Legends collects three illustrated short stories based on demonic Japanese folklore.

When I was an undergrad, I had the honor of taking a class called “Demonic Women in Japanese Fiction” with a professor I truly admire. This course was a foundational experience, and I ended up writing a lengthy senior thesis with the same title. The project served as an introduction to literary theory and feminist thought; but, more than anything, I really enjoyed stories about women behaving badly.

I taught my own “Demonic Women” class at the University of Pennsylvania for the first time in Spring 2024, and it was a resounding success. Everyone in this class was just as fascinated by the stories as I was, which was a minor miracle. In all fairness – demonic women are a lot of fun.

Though I teach and publish (and blog) about Japanese literature, and though I’ve spent a significant amount of time living in and around Tokyo, I generally don’t write original fiction set in Japan. Still, I love demonic folklore so much that I couldn’t help but be inspired by the literature in my “Demonic Women” class. I therefore put together a short zine that collects two previously published stories and one original piece of flash fiction, and I commissioned a coven of talented artists to create illustrations.

In the zine’s opening story, “The Smile of a Mountain Demon,” a 21st century yamauba entraps a YouTube influencer with Buddhist pretensions by using Airbnb and the language of New Age spirituality. The young man is looking for a scenic “spiritual retreat” to use as a source of content, and the yamauba is looking for a tasty snack. I was inspired by the medieval Adachigahara folktales in which a cunning yamauba entraps a less-than-devout Buddhist priest, as well as Minako Ohba’s beautiful and heartbreaking short story “The Smile of a Mountain Witch.”

The zine’s main story, “The Kumo Diary,” is set in the Meiji period, the era of Japan’s industrial revolution. As Japan established itself as a nation that could compete with Western powers, its intelligentsia were motivated to create a unified sense of “Japanese culture.” Scholars were therefore tasked with making The Tale of Genji a respectable classic to be held in esteem by a modern nation. While I was studying the history of The Tale of Genji, I couldn’t help but wonder about all the apocryphal chapters that never made it into the canonical version, and I created a few fragments of a medieval text to be discovered by a reader who dwells in the shadows cast by the light of modernity.

The final story, “Hanahaki,” is about a neglected cat who vows revenge on the small child that has monopolized his beloved human’s attention. The title comes from a trope in underground manga and fancomics of the late 2000s and early 2010s. In these stories, someone suffering from unrequited love painfully coughs up (haki) delicate flower petals (hana) in lieu of the words they can’t say. The cat in this story is unable to communicate in human language, but he still finds a way to make his displeasure clear. If nothing else, the child must go.

Strange Tales and Modern Legends explores themes that have fascinated me for years, specifically the intersections of folklore, feminism, and the unruly joy of problematic characters. I hope readers find these stories as delightfully unsettling as I did when I wrote them.

If you’re interested, you can order a paper copy of the zine from Etsy or download a free digital version from Itch.io.

👹 https://digitalterrarium.itch.io/strange-tales
👹 https://www.etsy.com/listing/4299187840/strange-tales-horror-fiction-zine

The art at the top of this post, which is one of the illustrations featured in the zine, was created by Le Soldat Mort, a dark fantasy artist who shares their work on Bluesky (here) and on Instagram (here).

Dark Souls Fandom Essay on Sidequest

“The Softer Side of Dark Souls Fandom,” my essay about a major shift in internet culture, was published on Sidequest. Everybody loves Bloodborne and Elden Ring now; but, ten years ago, FromSoft fans were a fairly isolated group, not to mention some of the most hateful people I’d ever encountered online. At about 1,400 words, this piece is far shorter than it should be, but I still had a fun time writing about how FromSoft fandom has become much more welcoming and inclusive over the past decade. Here’s an excerpt:

I’ve put untold hundreds of hours into Dark Souls and its sequels. When the game first came out almost fifteen years ago, however, there was nothing I hated more than Dark Souls. I refused to play it. I associated the game with the worst people on the internet, who spewed hate while using Dark Souls memes to shame and attack anyone they felt challenged the hegemony of their male-dominated subculture of video game fandom.

I therefore feel an ironic pleasure in the fact that, these days, Dark Souls and the other FromSoft games have been embraced by women and the queer community, the exact people these angry online gaming communities loved to hate. In a strange twist of fate, the games weaponized to mock diversity have become a sanctuary for many of the people who were once excluded.

You can read the full essay here:
https://sidequest.zone/2025/07/14/dark-souls-fandom/

An earlier version of this essay was published in Act Your Age, Vol. 2: Dark, a fandom memoir anthology zine that you can check out (here).

I decided to publish this piece online when the host of one of my favorite video game podcasts, Bonfireside Chat, came out as transgender. Since she’s not really a public figure, I don’t mention her in the essay itself, but her announcement made me incredibly happy. Regardless of gender and sexuality, I hope everyone can find a place where they feel accepted and supported in their interests… even if their interest is in dark fantasy games about dying in all sorts of grisly and horrifying ways!

The Wisdom of the Waiting Princess

The Wisdom of the Waiting Princess is an empowering feminist reading of how the trope of the “captive princess” applies to the Zelda of the original 1986 game. While this Zelda is an action hero in her own right, her wisdom manifests in her remarkable ability to lay plans for the future.

You can read the essay on AO3 here:
https://archiveofourown.org/works/67410167

I had the honor of contributing this essay to Silent Princess: A Zelda Zine. The zine’s website is on Carrd (here), and you can check out the art and writing featured in the zine on its Tumblr site (here). Leftover sales of the zine merch are currently open (here), and you can still pick up a digital copy of the zine (here). All profits from zine sales will go to support Doctors Without Borders.

This original design for Princess Zelda was created by Hollarity, who put an incredible amount of love and care into portraying the character as a courageous young woman who is fully capable of going on her own adventures. You can find more of Holly’s gorgeous artwork on her website (here).

Essay about Elden Ring and Dark Academia

I’m excited to share an essay I wrote for Bloodletter Magazine, a stylish biannual anthology of queer and feminist horror. The piece is titled “Dark Academia for Dark Times: Elden Ring and the Fall of the Academy,” and I’m writing about how the haunted lore of the game’s cursed university reflects real-world academic anxieties. 

You can read the essay here:
https://bloodlettermag.com/dark-academia-for-dark-times-elden-ring-and-the-fall-of-the-academy/

While I use the character Rennala from Elden Ring as an illuminating point of focus, my piece is really about the uncanny connections between the crisis currently facing universities and the social media aesthetic of “dark academia” embraced by young women. I’m arguing that the association of dark academia with the corruption of female bodies reflects deeper concerns regarding the ties between academic liberalism and the decay of imperial privilege. 

Basically: Is the wokeness of postcolonial queer feminism ruining college? I would like to believe that it is, and I think this is kind of neat, actually.

My piece is graced with a creepy spot illustration by the magical Katy Horan, who goes by @goodyhoran on Instagram, and you can follow Bloodletter at @bloodlettermag, where they post eye-catching film stills from indie horror movies created by emerging female directors. 

Silent Princess Zine Preorders Open

I’m proud to have contributed a nonfiction meta essay to Silent Princess, a fanzine celebrating Princess Zelda.

My essay, “The Wisdom of the Waiting Princess,” offers an empowering feminist reading of how the trope of the “captive princess” applies to the Zelda of the original 1986 game. My goal is to demonstrate that, while this Zelda is an action hero in her own right, her wisdom lies in patience, strategy, and the careful coordination of allies.

Silent Princess contains a sparkling treasure trove of essays, stories, comics, and illustrations, and I can’t wait for everyone to see the amazing work the team has created.

Preorders for the fanzine are open until January 6 on Bigcartel here:
🌟 https://silentprincesszine.bigcartel.com/

The Smile of the Mountain Demon

Liam is a budding content creator who specializes in guided meditation videos. Seeking to grow his following, he jumps at an Airbnb listing for a spiritual retreat in the Adachigahara mountains of rural Japan. At the end of a long journey, the stylish cabin enclosed within a verdant forest is everything Liam could hope for. The beautiful young woman who manages the property offers a warm welcome, but there’s something strange about her smile…

I was extremely honored to contribute to this year’s 13 Days Advent horror anthology. My story, “The Smile of the Mountain Demon,” is about a 21st century yamauba who entraps a YouTube influencer with Buddhist pretensions by using Airbnb and the language of New Age spirituality. The young man is looking for a scenic “spiritual retreat” to use as a source of content, and the yamauba is looking for a tasty snack.

This story is based on the medieval Adachigahara folktales in which a cunning yamauba entraps a less-than-devout Buddhist priest, as well as Minako Ohba’s beautiful and heartbreaking short story “The Smile of a Mountain Witch.”

If you’re interested, I’ve posted my story on AO3 (here), and you can download a free digital copy of the anthology via its page on Itchio here:

🌟 https://13daysadvent.itch.io/13days-demons-divinity

The illustration that accompanies my story was created by the brilliant dark fantasy artist Maxyvert, who posts strange and ethereal paintings on Tumblr (here), on Instagram (here), and on Twitter (here). This artist takes commissions for both digital and physical watercolor portraits (here), and it was an amazing experience to work with them.