While this is by no means complete list (we are getting new members all the time!) here are the shops in our group, meaning that they have at least one female employee! We also have a map, for easier viewing.
8th Dimension Comics & Games Houston, TX
Alter Ego Comics Muncie, IN
Looking for safer spaces to buy comics? Check these shops out!
Are you a lady who works in a comic shop, or know one? Direct them or yourself to bewarethevalkyries.com, and help us with our world domination. :)
This list should include Carol & John’s Comic Book Shop - http://www.cnjcomics.com - in Cleveland, OH, co-owned by Carol Cazzarin and her son John Dudas. It’s a sunny, pleasantly-decorated, friendly, and inclusive shop that even has its own cat. Not to mention the fact that Carol, who looks like she could be your mom or grandma, rocks a Green Arrow tattoo.
kamala: right now? i want to be beautiful and awesome and butt-kicking and less complicated. i want to be you.
…ummm …is it too late to change my mind?
This is the scene of the new Ms. Marvel that I’ve seen the most varied reactions to, today. But after some thought, I’ve decided that this is my favorite scene in the comic hands down—and here’s why:
Ms. Marvel is telling a decompressed origin story in 5 parts, if interviews and solicits are to be believed. So what we know about Kamala so far—her ethnic and religious background, her personal conflicts of identity, and her exposure to the Terrigen mists—are only the very beginning of her origin. If we look back on the classics, there’s usually a premise and then a twist. Boy gets bit by spider, loses his uncle. Billionaire loses parents in tragic mugging, falls into a batcave. (There’s a cryptic theme here, and I hope it doesn’t play out in Ms. Marvel to end up with a dead parental figure, but that’s a discussion for another day.) The point is, superhero origins introduce character, powers, and motivations. Kamala’s got two out of three, by the end of this issue.
So, the big question—what is Kamala’s motivation going to be? What’s going to prompt her to put on a mask and dupata-cape and try and save the world?
I suppose we’ve seen a little of it already, in the form of her idolization of and interest in superheroes. But that kind of inspirations only goes so far. You can like someone without wanting to be them—I can admire Olympic athletes without wanting to go through the years of training that they have to.
I think Kamala’s motivation is going to come, at least in part, from issues of identity. In this issue, we see her struggle with the conflicting pressure and expectations of her family and then the outside world of her friends and peers. She’s clearly not entirely part of one world or the other, and she’s still negotiating how much she’s Pakistani or Muslim or a daughter and how much she’s an American student or friend or teenager. I think that entire puzzle is one to be unpacked in tens of issues—it doesn’t need a clean answer, or even the same answer all the time.
But in this issue, Kamala tries to give herself an easy out. She tells the Captain Marvel hallucination: “I want to be you.” Because Carol Danvers might just be everything Kamala admires but can’t be—“All-American” in the way that only comes from being blonde-haired and blue-eyed, and raised on the East Coast in a nuclear family, with a history of military service and crime-fighting in patriotic colors. Kamala may be able to capture aspects of that, or the spirit of it, eventually—but let’s be real here, she can never be Carol Danvers.
She thinks if she could be, it would uncomplicated her life. Maybe if she was wholly “American” or white and blonde, she’d feel less conflicted about everything. And that’s why her powers manifest as they do the first time.
I don’t think Kamala actually wants give up her looks or her identity or her religion or her ethnicity. But I can see, from her vantage point, the appeal of being the default. Anyone who’s ever read a Captain or Ms. Marvel comic knows that Carol’s life is nowhere near that simple, however. And I think Kamala’s going to come to realize that, too.
The thing of it is, we kind of know the end of this story. We’ve seen Kamala wearing a uniform that honors both her culture and the heroine she so admires. She looks like herself—wavy hair and brown skin—and tells us she wears a mask instead of changing her face, even though she can. We know Kamala’s going to get to a place where she doesn’t want to be the default, but still wants to be a superhero.
I for one can’t wait to see how she gets there. And that’s why I don’t see her manifest desire to be Carol as any kind of rejection of who she is—she just needs to work through her very valid troubles as someone of more than one world, and approach heroing and her life from her own unique vantage point.
And that, to me, would be a starting point as powerful as a dead body or a destroyed planet, an island of sisters left behind or a world that hates and fears you.
from ms. marvel #001 (g. willow wilson & adrian alphona)
Yes yes yes to all of the above, and immense thanks to ucarim for putting it out there more eloquently than I ever could.
I adored this comic and while the last page threw me for a loop and gave me small concerns, above all else I am looking forward to see how Kamala comes to terms with her own identity. Throughout my life I have wanted to be skinny, movie-ready pretty, physically male, able-bodied, American, and even heterosexual, and it’s taken me 28 years to be okay with who I am. Most days.
Seeing a teenager go through that metamorphosis is going to be fun, interesting, scary, personal, and above all, I really believe, handled with great love and care.
Bring it on!
"I got a fan letter from a young lady. It was a suicide note.
So I called her, and I said, "Hey, this is Jimmy Doohan. Scotty, from Star Trek." I said, "I’m doing a convention in Indianapolis. I wanna see you there."
I saw her — boy, I’m telling you, I couldn’t believe what I saw. It was definitely suicide. Somebody had to help her, somehow. And obviously she wasn’t going to the right people.
I said to her, "I’m doing a convention two weeks from now in St. Louis." And two weeks from then, in somewhere else, you know? She also came to New York - she was able to afford to got to these places. That went on for two or three years, maybe eighteen times. And all I did was talk positive things to her.
And then all of the sudden — nothing. I didn’t hear anything. I had no idea what had happened to her because I never really saved her address.
Eight years later, I get a letter saying, "I do want to thank you so much for what you did for me, because I just got my Master’s degree in electronic engineering.”
That’s…to me, the best thing I’ve ever done in my life.”
Not going to cry at my desk. Not going to do it.
Bless you, James Doohan.
Gnarled and twisted, these wooden bones and root veins have come together to make a Hand of Glory, more truer to the name.
"Hand of Glory" is a folk etymology; it derives from the French "main de gloire" which is a corruption of mandragore, which is a mandrake.
The Hand of Glory Altar comes with three starter candles, to burn over the hand. It is said that while the candle burns everyone in its presence is immobilized, and that it can open locks.
The hand is the size of an average man’s.
Hey all, if you’re interested, my wife makes beautiful things and tries to find them homes. We’re trying to make ends meet this month (as I’m certain many of you can relate), and it would be awesome if you could check out her Etsy shop Briar and Gloam!
Girls and guys!! Don’t let anyone try to shame you into presenting yourself in a way that doesn’t make you feel 100% confident and good about yourself. Rock your body and your aesthetic and let others rock theirs.
"We’ve been on it for two years."
“Did you do drugs before that?”
“A line of coke at a party, every once in awhile we’d pop a couple Vicodin and watch TV. But we had normal lives. She was an office administrator, I was a cook. Then I got hurt and got a prescription for some Oxycontins. And I gave a few to her. And before long we were crushing them up and snorting them. Then we started doing heroin cause it was cheaper. It’s the same thing, really, as the Oxycontins. Just cheaper.”
“What’s it feel like when you stop doing heroin?”
“It’s like dying. And being reborn again. Your eyes keep crying and your nose keeps running and you’ve got cold sweats. And for like 4 days you’re flopping around and can’t get comfortable, so you can’t sleep for days so you start thinking crazy and seeing things. And if you can make it through those four days without getting a bag of dope, then you come out the other side so exhausted you can’t move. If you’re lucky you can get some methadone from a clinic, but that’s even more addictive than the heroin.”
“Would you say heroin has ruined your life?”
“Do you mind if I share that?”
“That’s fine. Just say one thing. Be sure to say that we really do love each other and we’re trying to fix our lives.”
Seriously, if you don’t follow Humans of New York…