Ghost issue 1
So some books really stick to your ribs, for one reason or another. It is an appalling read, or a literary gem, or there is some quirky character that really grabs you and won’t let good for some reason or another.
Ghost is the story of a woman who was betrayed, cast to the depths of hell, and then returns to earth to put the ever loving smack down on demon-kind! Sounds awesome right? I won’t lie, the premise is super fun, but that is about all that stuck when I turned the last page.
The first issue carries oddly dull writing by Kelly Sue DeConnick. The characters manage to drift through the pages in a mediocre way. Everything felt vanilla. No one character really resonates a personality quite their own, and by the time the book is done, I really felt like I had not met anyone, or really sorted out any semblance of a plot direction. The wrap up does point in some vague direction, but honestly, has not really enticed me to walk any further down the path. It was as if nothing happened for twenty four pages, but there were definitely demons and car chases, and I am still not entirely sure why it comes across so painfully vanilla.
The art oddly carries a similar tone. There are some intense scenes, but they felt so forced and rushed that they were not able to really carry much weight. Panel to panel I was waiting to feel something, but nary an emotion was stirred. The thing is, I can’t peg what was missing. The scenes fell well choreographed, but it was like some deeper essence was lacking in every panel. I certainly won’t claim Ryan Sook’s work was bad, but it also fell strangely flat. I could forget every page. I essentially have forgotten every page, and that is what bothers me about this book, it does not resonate, good or bad.
In summation, the book read like a hollow introduction. I honestly think if a reader were to skip it and hop straight into book two, little to no damage would be done. It just feels like a space filler.
2 out of 5.
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About the Author - CajunBean
He was born in the swamps of Louisiana, where he spent his days punching gators in the crotch and funneling gumbo til his eyes bled. Then one day, a powerful foreign entity dragged him across several state lines, and tethered him to the Colorado Rockies, where he lives in perpetual fear of freezing to death and there is nary a gator crotch in sight for punching. Now he hides inside, dreading snow flurries, and hammering away reviews and non-nonsensical ramblings for the outhouse overlords (cuz apparently someone saw fit to lord over outhouses).
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