Courtney Crumrin and the Night Things, Ted Naifeh

Courtney Crumrin and the Night Things

Like the shadows that flicker in the corner of your eye, Courtney Crumrin and the Night Things doesn’t fill you with outright terror—at least, not at first. Far more frightening is its creeping sense of dread, the nagging feeling that something is unutterably, irretrievably wrong.

Courtney’s tale, like most cracking ghost stories, begins with a spooky old mansion. “Do you know that one house, the most talked-about house in the whole neighborhood?” asks the omniscient narrator. “It is well known that terrible things happen there. And that Old Man Crumrin is madder than a Victorian hatmaker.”

It’s also the house that Courtney and her tedious, social-climbing parents would soon call home.

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Hildafolk, Luke Pearson

Hildafolk

It’s apparent from the outset that Hilda isn’t your typical blue-haired little girl. For one thing, she lives with her mother in the mountains, on the edge of a forest populated by magical creatures. In Hilda’s world, boys are made out of wood, antlered foxes gambol alongside itinerant water spirits, and furry beasts flock across the skies.

Hildafolk is an amuse-bouche of a tale. One of London publisher Nobrow’s 17×23 series, a format for emerging artists to “tell their stories in a manageable and economic format,” the book offers a glimpse into a world that’s tantalizingly, almost vexingly, brief.

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