Content warning: Description of C-PTSD flashback, and someone’s last moments in a hospital.
I’m holding The Amazing Spider-Man Library Volume 1 from Taschen in my hands, metaphorically speaking. The book’s so enormous I need a flat surface to read it. But I’ve never felt quite so conflicted about receiving a book before.
I bought it, in a way, as a Christmas present to myself. I bought it with money I got from a refund of the Don Rosa Library Volume 3’s indiegogo money, which is now over 11 years old, and some of my own cash. I did so because every time I saw some non-update on the title, I felt a squeezing in my chest. Heat began to flood my body, and my mind began to back up from my body. At worst, I remembered the quiet, somber sounds of a hospital room. My hearing is strong enough that filtering out the machines was terrible, but it was even harder… God, so much harder, when sounds began to stop, and an involuntary breath was the last one my dad ever took.
I feel this because the book was a Christmas present from my dad in 2012. He waited for years along with me, to see the followup to the book that got me started in comics journalism. It never came out, and I doubt it ever will. The most recent update I got shattered any faith or confidence I had that the creator of the book would ever release it, get help with it, or release the assets to another publisher. Fantagraphics, perhaps. I digress.
When I was doing the Don Rosa in Review series, I decided to put it on hiatus for the third Don Rosa book. I figured looking at his past works would inform my understanding of the material he did later in his career. This is never going to happen under the current conditions.
This is no fault of Don’s. He isn’t the publisher, isn’t creatively involved, he’s just a retired writer and artist who provided materials to someone who failed to deliver.
There isn’t a hidden review here. This is just a post I’m making to get it out of my system, and leave whatever I do decide to talk about with the Amazing Spider-Man Library untainted.
I don’t know how anyone handles grief. I’m not saying you can’t, I’m saying I don’t actually understand how people handle it. Absolute knowledge isn’t present on this one. But if I am to offer any advice… if there’s someone you care about who died, take a look around at your life, your home, garage, attic, wherever it is, consder this.
Look for a project you left unfinished, something you always wanted to do with them, something they loved that just reminds you of them. Really examine what’s in front of you, and one way or another, finish it. Make your ending, because the world can’t create it for you. You have to say “This is the end” and take that step forward without equivocation. Hesitation, sure. I can understand that. It’s not easy or simple. But you might find joy in it.
More importantly, if it’s ended, either by removing it from your life or by taking on that unfinished business, you’re being honest with yourself. And above all else, you know you’re not punishing yourself by wondering what you would have done if they’d been there with you.
See you next time.