I‘m somewhat new to the medium of comics in general and graphic novels in particular, which is odd because for 15 years I’ve been married to a guy who owns hundreds, if not thousands, of comic books. They’re all bagged, boarded, and stored away where the kids can’t get their sticky little fingers on them — unless they ask first. I admit I’ve been a bit of a book snob, looking down on comics as a lesser form of storytelling, as genre unworthy of my precious little free time, rather than as a legitimate storytelling medium or format that works well for many genres. Until recently, I not only had no interest in comics, but I actively stayed away from them. I mean, really, aren’t comic books for kids?
Why, yes they are! Some of them, anyway. (But many, if not most, are not.) And miraculously one day my kids started reaching the age where they could appreciate comic books. And poof! I was seeing comic books lying around the house. Turns out, comic books are a fantastic medium for my son because he’s still learning to read. He can follow the basic storyline of a decent comic book even if he can’t read the text. And comic books don’t make him feel like he’s reading a “baby book,” as some of the cute-little-bunny-laden early readers make him feel. Plus, even after he’s read a comic book to himself, he still wants me or my husband to read him the book from cover to cover, so he eventually understands the entire story.
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