Last year, I met David Avallone, writer of Drawing Blood, at Los Angeles Comic Con. After getting a signed script for the first issue, he thanked me for still hanging with it. I told him that what he and the rest of the creative team were doing hooked me, and it did: seeing how Shane Bookman, aka “Books”, dealt with his life going from bad to worse was a compelling read.
Part of what makes the series so compelling is how it slowly unravels Books’ past, and Drawing Blood #7 takes it to its ultimate extreme, as he returns to his childhood home in Maine. But it’s far from a refuge. He doesn’t really connect with his mother, he’s bombarded by messages from friends, family, and foes (including a visit from an FBI agent), and he is constantly hit in the face with reminders about why he chose to leave Maine.
Avallone, along with co-creator Kevin Eastman, shows that Books is haunted by the past in more ways than one. He can’t really communicate with his mother, and she can’t understand his complicated feelings about the Radically Rearranged Ronin Ragdolls. His relationship with his brother Paul is as fractured as ever, since the two disagreed about Books selling the Ragdolls. But there’s also a glimpse into Books’ relationship with his first girlfriend, which takes a harrowing turn in the present – and will remind the readers that people, unlike comic book characters, don’t stay frozen in amber. Their lives go on.
Eastman, Ben Bishop and Troy Little take a rather unique approach to the artwork in this issue. Most of it comes in the forms of flashbacks, which Eastman applies his signature black and white style to. But those flashbacks take place in side by side panels, which show what things were like when Books still lived in Maine, and what they’re like now. A movie theater is long closed, its signs rusted and missing letters. The swing set where he and Paul used to play is grounds for their latest argument. What makes this impressive is how Bishop is able to match Eastman’s layouts panel for panel, providing a great distinction between the old and new.
Little is no slouch, either – especially since he draws one of the most heartbreaking moments in Drawing Blood #7. Early on, Books’ mom says that everyone in town is proud of the work he does and loves him. “They love me?” he cries out. “What about you?” Little then illustrates a younger Books, whose clothes are hanging off his body and whose eyes are filled with desperation. It’s a perfect visual for how he feels like he never really connected with his mother, or how he connected with anyone. Even more striking are the colors from Luis Antonio Delgado, which bring a splash of brightness despite the emotionally heavy moment laid before the reader. Ditto Taylor Esposito’s lettering, who frames Books’ words in the same tone a lost child would have.
Drawing Blood #7 is a sobering look at how people’s dreams can place them at odds with their family – and that you rarely ever go home. It makes me think that I should have told Avalone there’s another reason why I’ve stuck by this book: the emotional journey is a tough one, but it’s one that’s rooted in truth – and that’s what makes it such a great read.
