Essay about Barret Wallace on Unwinnable

Just in time for the Final Fantasy VII Revelation announcement, my essay “Barret Wallace Was Not Wrong” was published on Unwinnable (here)! This essay is about the joy of blowing up data centers Mako reactors, and I had a lot of fun writing it.

The truth is that I’ve been thinking about the relationship between precarity and stochastic violence a lot these days, and I really can’t blame anyone for fantasizing about it. If I’m being totally honest, I have to admit that I’ve had some daydreams about it myself. My pet fantasy at the moment involves planting poison ivy all around the building that’s rumored to be the de facto [redacted] field office in Philadelphia, and I’ve also indulged in more than a few vivid daydreams about the Waymo cars and Uber Eats delivery robots I sometimes see around town.

As satisfying as setting community hazards on fire might feel in the moment, though, I’m not convinced that individual acts of violence ultimately serve any greater purpose. But then what? Are we supposed to just make angry posts online without actually doing anything?

We have plenty of stories about fictional teenagers and superheroes saving the world from archvillains to use as models of action, but they’re not obviously not grounded in reality. We also have stories about real-life wealthy philanthropists using their resources to make a difference, but that’s not really useful to the vast majority of us either. Then I started thinking about Barret Wallace in Final Fantasy VII, who is dead broke and disabled in his mid-thirties but decides to take on a giant corporation anyway. And you know what? That’s a model of heroism that resonates with me.

Here’s an excerpt from my essay:

At the end of the game, Barret Wallace does end up saving the world, but not through terrorism. Instead, he becomes a key figure in a loosely federated community of people committed to practical action that transcends individual acts of violence. This community includes Shinra’s victims as well as its former and current employees, from veterans of its space program to disgruntled middle managers. Barret wasn’t wrong when he took action against Shinra; he just didn’t yet see how powerful a global resistance movement could be.

You can read the full essay on Unwinnable here:
https://unwinnable.com/2026/06/08/barret-wallace-was-not-wrong

The Book of Murmurs Review on Comics Beat

I recently had the opportunity to write a review of The Book of Murmurs, a new graphic novel from Fantagraphics about a young girl who goes on a magical journey through a fantasy world.

You probably think you know what you’re getting from that description, but this is an incredibly rich and dense story. I actually had to push back my review because, as I explained to my editor, I wasn’t expecting this book to be House of Leaves Junior. Formulating the basic outline of the plot was an intriguing challenge, and I had to do a fair bit of outside research, which included finding interviews with the artist while studying her social media posts. In case this sounds like a bad thing, please rest assured that The Book of Murmurs is well worth the time and effort.

Here’s an excerpt from my review:

In a launch day interview, Purwin describes her work as a reflection of her experience as a child growing up in the 1980s, when lush fantasy films like Labyrinth and The Secret of Nimh were suffused with sinister undertones and didn’t always make sense. Purwin says that she created The Book of Murmurs for her younger self, who would stay up late to watch movies like Stand by Me and then spend days dwelling on the unfamiliar imagery while processing a lingering sense of unease. The Book of Murmurs perfectly captures the sense of fascination with forms and meanings half-glimpsed through shadows, always asking compelling questions that don’t have straightforward answers.

I’d like to expand on my review here and say that I would have loved The Book of Murmurs as a kid. As an adult who appreciates the fragmented and nonlinear storytelling of The Magnus Archives and Bloodborne, I really enjoyed getting lost in this graphic novel. Based on the artist’s gorgeous and heartbreaking social media minicomics about Palestinian refugees, I also get the sense that there are strong political currents underlying the adventure story, and I hope this book receives the sympathetic scholarly attention it deserves. It’s so good.

You can read my full review on Comics Beat here:
https://www.comicsbeat.com/book-of-murmurs-review/

My New Hobby Craves Violence Review

I’ve got a review of a minicomic zine appearing in Issue 4 of The Comics Courier, which is crowdfunding until July 1 on Kickstarter (here)!

I wrote about My New Hobby Craves Violence, a botanical horror story that’s also about becoming trapped in an addiction to receiving positive feedback online. Kristyna Baczynski is famous for her wholesome nature illustrations, so seeing her take on botanical horror mixed with toxic positivity is a lot of fun.

Here’s an excerpt from my review:

Pip’s situation is all too relatable as she ignores the warning signs of an unhealthy obsession while devoting her attention to the uncanny plant that serves as a consistent source of new content. Still, the analogy of “unhealthy growth” doesn’t work if the botanical horror doesn’t operate on a visceral level, and Baczynski’s horrible little houseplant is amazingly creepy. Its thickly veined leaves twist and squirm across the pages as the comic panels become increasingly crowded and claustrophobic. Text message bubbles pop up between scenes of Pip’s collapsing life, competing for the reader’s attention and engendering a palpable sense of urgency as Pip grabs a pair of pruning shears and struggles to disentangle herself from the clutching vines. 

The Kickstarter project has already met its funding goal, so the issue should be out soon. The Comics Courier is a fantastic publication – I really enjoyed the first three issues – and I’m very happy to see it loved and supported.

You can preorder a copy of The Comics Courier with my review here:
https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/tiffanybabb/the-comics-courier-a-comics-criticism-journal-issue-4

That One Matt Bors Comic

I have an essay appearing in a book called That One Matt Bors Comic, an anthology about internet meme culture that has a lineup of incredible names attached, including Ryan North of Dinosaur Comics fame and Ryan Broderick, the host of Panic World podcast. Many of the artists who work with the comics journalism website The Nib are onboard, as is the amazing Matt Bors himself.

I’m not entirely sure why I’m included in this constellation of stars, but I’m not complaining! I have a lot to say about online discourse, especially in progressive spaces. When people talk about “how the internet warps our minds and culture,” I think there’s a tendency to focus on right-wing discourse on mainstream platforms like Twitter and TikTok, but people in left-wing communities on Tumblr definitely have their moments as well.

The book is currently crowdfunding on Kickstarter here:
https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/glennf/that-one-matt-bors-comic

Review of The Art of Slay the Princess on Comics Beat

Although this book came out back in October 2025, Comics Beat offered me the opportunity to write a review of The Art of Slay the Princess, which is something like a graphic novel adaptation of the horror game (on Steam here).

It’s difficult to summarize the story of Slay the Princess, and a serious discussion could easily turn into a substantial essay. What I therefore ended up doing in my review was discussing the success of the cross-media adaptation. You might wonder how a print book would be able to convey the multiplicity of the game’s branching storylines, and the answer is that it does so in a remarkably artful way.

Here’s an excerpt from my review:

In order to function as a book, The Art of Slay the Princess omits a substantial amount of text from the game’s script. By necessity, many of the game’s multimedia horror elements, including its viscerally upsetting soundscapes, are also missing. Regardless, Howard’s illustration work is sufficiently disturbing even in a montage of static frames, and the page layout is utilized to showcase the various forms of the Princess in their full uncanny glory. Though it’s not a traditionally linear reading experience, The Art of Slay the Princess is still more than capable of immersing the reader in its dark and labyrinthine world.

You can read the review on Comics Beat here:
https://www.comicsbeat.com/the-art-of-slay-the-princess-review/

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/

The Annotated Kitab al-Azif on The New Absurdist

I’m excited to announce that my short story “The Annotated Kitab al-Azif” is free to read on The New Absurdist here:

📖 https://newabsurdist.com/editors-picks/the-annotated-kitab-al-azif/

“The Annotated Kitab al-Azif” is a queer Lovecraftian romance about the slow decline of American academia and the supernatural perils of translation. In this story, a burnt-out Millennial podcaster flees the high rent of Boston and accepts a position as a departmental admin assistant in the suburban Miskatonic University, which is suffering from budget cuts and declining enrollments. During the lull of his first summer on the job, the podcaster meets a grad student working on the Gnostic religious traditions of the southern Mediterranean while attempting a translation of the Kitab al-Azif, more popularly known as the Necronomicon.

As you might imagine, this area of study has consequences for the grad student. The podcaster isn’t too concerned, however. He’s already seen all manner of awful things while doing research online, and why let something as trivial as ageless extradimensional horrors get in the way of a budding relationship?

Though I’ve never accidentally summoned an eldritch abomination, the setting of “The Annotated Kitab al-Azif” is partially based on my own experience as a grad student at the University of Pennsylvania. The “horror” part of this experience is the constant scramble for funding, the awkward negotiations with libraries for access to research material, and the unspoken expectation that you’ll work in decaying buildings that haven’t been maintained since the early twentieth century.

Meanwhile, the “romance” part is the opportunity to share space with people from all over the world. When you use the same office (and the same refrigerator and bathroom) with other people, pre-existing differences in culture, language, and nationality quickly become secondary to the warmth of the personal relationships that form between you. Universities aren’t cultural melting pots by any means, but they’re as good of a place as any to realize that cultural differences really don’t matter all that much in the face of genuine friendship.

Though I’ve largely set aside my ambitions to become a translator, one of the reasons I got into academia was to model the positive change I wanted to see in the broader field of literary studies, especially with regards to de-mystifying stories written by authors from “non-Western” countries. Even when it’s done respectfully, the academic tendency to treat these stories as “subaltern” and “marginalized” is frustrating. To begin with, nobody thinks of their own language and culture as “other”; but, more importantly, people are just people.   

The Necronomicon is an interesting base for an exploration of this theme. In my understanding of the lore of the Cthulhu mythos, the Necronomicon is essentially an expression of popular turn-of-the-century Spiritualism, which was in turn inspired by the various strands of medieval Gnostic thought that sprung up along the Silk Road.

Though this sort of spiritually inclusive worldview may have seemed “mystical” to people living in Christian-majority cultures in the late nineteenth century, it’s completely normal to someone coming from a Buddhist or a Hindu tradition. All things considered, the cyclical view of time and the multidimensional view of space suggested by the Necronomicon are completely normal for many people who weren’t raised as Christian, and it’s interesting to consider the real-world foundations of this infamous fictional text without the narrative trappings of Orientalism.

But also…… What if magic were genuinely real? What then?

I’m grateful to The New Absurdist for taking a chance on this odd piece of weird fiction. I also want to express my appreciation to the story’s cover artists, Katie Rejto and Wally Tigerland, for creating such a unique and intriguing illustration.

If your curiosity is piqued by the prospect of true-to-life dark academia haunted by a touch of cosmic horror, please check out my story on The New Absurdist (here).

Review of Shadows of the Sea on Comics Beat

I recently had the privilege of writing a review for Comics Beat about Cathy Malkasian’s new graphic novel, Shadows of the Sea. I have to admit that I struggled with Malkasian’s previous books, which are brilliant but tonally dark and emotionally devastating. Shadows of the Sea is just as strange and heartbreaking as the artist’s earlier work, but it ends on a gloriously high note that gives me hope for the future. I was prepared to write a review about the value of portraying despair in dark times, but man. Hope is good too.

Here’s an excerpt:

In his review on The Beat, John Seven assesses Malkasian’s 2017 graphic novel Eartha as one of the artist’s characteristic “gloomy, apocalyptic parables that don’t make you feel so great about humankind.” It’s difficult to disagree, as Eartha is deeply disquieting. In contrast, Shadows of the Sea feels like a gentler turn of the same thematic wheel, presenting a story that’s smaller in scope but richer in emotional immediacy. The fantastic world Malkasian has painted is cruel and strange, to be sure, but it still affords the possibility of healing. Shadows of the Sea lingers not because of its darkness, but because of the hope that emerges after a brave confrontation with bitter truths.

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

The Annotated Kitab al-Azif

My queer Lovecraftian romance, “The Annotated Kitab al-Azif,” was just published in the latest issue of Black Sheep, a magazine for weird fiction. This story treats the gnostic origins of the Necronomicon with respect while being slightly silly about grad students.

You can order a copy of the issue with my story here:

🐙📖 www.amazon.com/dp/B0G25R82TY

It’s very cool to have the opportunity to publish a Lovecraft pastiche in an honest-to-god pulp magazine, which seems appropriate. At the same time, I definitely feel the friction of using Lovecraft’s own tropes to push back against the ugly Orientalism surrounding the Necronomicon.

The truth is that, while I admire Lovecraft, but I wouldn’t consider myself a fan. Rather, I spent a formative part of my childhood in a small town in the Deep South whose public library was severely limited by budget constraints. The only thing remotely close to fantasy fiction they had on their shelves was Stephen King, the lone second volume of Lord of the Rings, and a handful of ancient paperback collections of H.P. Lovecraft.

I didn’t really have the cultural context to understand Stephen King, and I wouldn’t recommend The Two Towers as the place to start reading Tolkien. Lovecraft grabbed me, though. Even as a kid, I understood the xenophobia expressed in Lovecraft’s stories. Believe me, I understood all too well. Still, I guess I was young enough that this wasn’t a dealbreaker, especially since there was nothing else to read during the summer where I practically lived at this tiny little library.

I had more resources the following year, when I started attending an international school in Atlanta and began to read more widely. But Lovecraft stuck with me, and a small but significant goal of my writing now is to try to capture and explain why that is.

I sincerely believe that people should write whatever they want, but a part of me still questions the value of aligning myself with the work of such a problematic author. The truth remains, though, that these Lovecraft stories only occupy a small closet in the house I’m trying to build with my writing. What I want to do is expand the scope of the small rural library that only had room for Stephen King and H.P. Lovecraft, as well as to create space for original work that dismantles the toxic feedback loop of preset responses to human difference.

Much love to Black Sheep magazine for giving a home to this story. 

Review of The Corus Wave on Comics Beat

I really enjoyed writing a review of Karenza Sparks’s debut graphic novel, The Corus Wave, for Comics Beat.

The Corus Wave is a cozy science mystery about a grad student who inadvertently tumbles down a research rabbit hole while writing her thesis about an unusual (and potentially supernatural) fossil. The story quickly becomes a low-stakes Da Vinci Code adventure with a lot of local color borrowed from the artist’s home in Cornwall, and it’s super charming. I really love this book.

Here’s an excerpt from my review:

The Corus Wave is a celebration of the joys of research. The hunt for Corus’ manuscripts begins with a footnote that becomes a rabbit hole, but the story evolves in a more practical direction as the two students find friendship and support in a scholarly community. Their fieldwork provides opportunities to appreciate the human stories behind a built environment whose unique design flourishes might otherwise be taken for granted. The Corus Wave is about going offline and touching grass, the pleasure of which is conveyed through gentle and attractive art that presents lively and expressive characters navigating interior spaces that only reveal their secrets under close observation.

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