Nine graphic novels worth reading

First, a heads-up. This isn’t a list based entirely on my own reading. I've read three of these graphic novels myself. I've chosen the others because of their popularity and appeal among both fiction lovers and graphic-novel enthusiasts. I've probably missed many other good ones, so consider this a starting point rather than a definitive list.

The first graphic novel I read was Art Spiegelman's Maus I and II, which I bought many years ago from a pavement bookseller in Mumbai. In fact, I was lucky to find both volumes at the same place and time, and for a steal. I’m guessing a discerning reader, though not necessarily a collector, must have sold them to the bookseller.

New Fiction: Books that caught my eye in 2026

One of the joys of being a booklover, apart from buying and hoarding books, is looking up fiction titles scheduled for release in a particular year, even if it’s not possible to read them all. I frequently read about new or forthcoming books that have generated interest in the media and literary circles. I’m curious to know more about these books and sometimes buy them, depending on whether I read in those genres.

To be honest, though, I don’t buy many physical books these days because I’m running out of storage space and already have more than enough books to read. My collection of comics is another story for another day. So, most of the new books I buy are ebooks, which I read on my tablet.

(As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases.)

My first visit to a comic-book store

It took a long-haul flight from Mumbai to Vancouver for me to finally visit a comic-book store I’d only read about online and watched with envy on The Big Bang Theory.

The comic-book store I went to was on Vancouver Island, in a small, charming place called Coombs, within the district of Nanaimo. Coombs, as you might know, is famous for its Old Country Market—more popularly known as Goats on the Roof—where a family of goats actually lives on the low sodded roof. It attracts over a million tourists every year, apparently.

The comic-book store, as it was simply called, was a single room and not very big. Its walls were lined with storage racks holding dozens of white boxes filled with comics in polyethylene bags, each neatly labelled with the names of superheroes on the side.

When I went in with my family, the place was nearly empty. A young man, presumably the owner, sat at a counter watching something on his phone, while a couple of kids were noisily sifting through trading cards in the centre of the store. I practically had the comic-book store all to myself. I wandered through the shelves, looking for my favourite characters from DC and Marvel, and other imprints. They were all there, and some not so familiar ones too.

With help from my family—since the boxes were quite heavy—I went through hundreds of backdated comic-books, mostly Superman and Batman (my childhood heroes), the Hulk, Flash, Daredevil, Captain America, Punisher, Justice League, Fantastic Four and the Avengers. I picked out several, put them back and then took them out again. Being spoilt for choice wasn’t easy. There were so many old titles, I wanted them all.

(As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases.)

At one point, I decided to collect the multi-part Superman: Funeral for a Friend special series I had always wanted to own. With more help from my family, I spent over an hour searching for all the parts but came up three short. In the end, I dropped the idea and settled for the equally prized Reign of the Supermen! 1993 series instead.

I suppose you could say, “You lose a Superman, you gain a Superman!”

Some three hours later, as I was paying for my stack of comic-books, I suddenly realised I hadn’t seen two other favourite characters from my teens—Tarzan and his son Korak. They were there, all right; I had somehow missed them.

After the owner pointed them out, I got down on my haunches and quickly went through a couple of boxes of early Tarzan issues with their vintage-smelling covers, my comic-book antennae tingling with excitement for a second time that evening. Unfortunately, we were running late, and it was with some reluctance that I put the ape-man back in his box.

Comic-books have brought me endless joy since my school days, and visiting this little haven felt like a dream come true. I’ll be going back to Coombs again, hopefully in the not-too-distant future—for the comic-books and, of course, the goats on the roof.

Confessions of a Book Collector: So Much for Restraint

In the first three months of this year, I bought more books than I did in the whole of 2018. So much for restraint. Any resolve to cut back on book buying quickly disappeared as I walked through book exhibitions and second-hand bookstalls looking for interesting books and comics.

A few titles, including Yuval Noah Harari's 21 Lessons for the 21st Century, were bought online (I already own his Sapiens and Homo Deus.) I also picked up several guides to better writing, two of which are featured below. And although I ordered Neil Gaiman's Norse Mythology for my son, I intend to read it myself at some point.

The highlight of the haul was the discovery of three rare Sudden novels by British author Oliver Strange, including two different Corgi editions of The Range Robbers. The book is the first of ten adventures featuring the Texas outlaw James Green, better known as Sudden for his lightning-fast draw. After Strange's death, English writer Frederick Nolan wrote five more Sudden novels under the pseudonym Frederick H. Christian. They remain my favourite westerns to this day.

(As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases.)

Having explored humanity's past in Sapiens and its future in Homo Deus, Yuval Noah Harari turns his attention to some of the most pressing questions facing the modern world in 21 Lessons for the 21st Century.

Problem at Pollensa Bay and Other Stories shows Agatha Christie at her most versatile, with a mix of mysteries, twists and suspenseful tales featuring both familiar and lesser-known characters. 

In The Wrath of God, Jack Higgins—my favourite writer of all time—combines action, suspense and political intrigue in a gripping tale of revenge set in a troubled South American republic.

The Mating Season is a classic Jeeves and Wooster comedy, filled with Wodehouse's trademark humour, eccentric characters and tangled plots. 

Blind Eagle is one of the many instalments in Don Pendleton's long-running Stony Man series, known for its military action, covert operations and fast-paced storytelling. 

The Wilt Alternative is the second novel in Tom Sharpe's popular Wilt series, known for its sharp satire, eccentric characters and wildly improbable comic situations. 

Captain America: The Secret Story of Marvel's Star-Spangled Super Hero offers a behind-the-scenes look at the character's creators, adventures and cultural significance over the decades. 

 

Norse Mythology is Neil Gaiman's retelling of the classic Norse myths, capturing their humour, wonder, magic and tragedy in his distinctive storytelling style.

Dreyer's English combines writing tips, grammar guidance and editorial wisdom with a generous dose of humour. Drawing on decades of editorial experience, Benjamin Dreyer provides an entertaining and insightful guide to clearer, more effective writing.

100 Ways to Improve Your Writing distils Gary Provost's years of writing and teaching experience into a practical collection of 100 concise tips to help writers communicate more clearly, effectively and confidently. 

The Range Robbers is the first novel in Oliver Strange's Sudden series, introducing James Green, a mysterious drifter better known as Sudden for his lightning-fast draw. Guided by a strong sense of justice, the western hero repeatedly finds himself confronting outlaws, corruption and lawlessness across the American frontier, while making new friends wherever he goes. The book launched a series of 15 adventures, 10 written by Strange and a further five by Frederick Nolan after the author's death.

Timequake by Kurt Vonnegut and other books

I bought no more than a dozen secondhand books this year. I’m pretty sure of that. Let me see—a few westerns, thrillers and spy fiction, some Lee Child, P.G. Wodehouse, Agatha Christie, Erle Stanley Gardner, Enid Blyton and Kurt Vonnegut. Yes, that’s about it. I haven’t read any of the books yet.

© Prashant C. Trikannad

I also ordered some nonfiction from Amazon. They're all there in the picture on the left. I haven't read those either. Although I have been dipping into the books on writing, I don't read them from cover to cover.

(As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases.)

Separately, I also picked up Khushwant Singh’s autobiography Truth, Love & A Little Malice (2002). Singh was a diplomat, journalist, columnist, parliamentarian and author. He was also one of India's most entertaining storytellers. I enjoyed his clear, straightforward style. The book itself had a troubled publication history and was delayed for several years because of a court case.

I also added a handful of comic-books to my collection as well. These included two graphic adaptations from the Warrior Cats series by Erin Hunter, the shared pen name of several children's writers. I also downloaded a few titles offered during Amazon's Free Comic Book Day promotion. Most of my comics reading happens during the daily commute.

Of the fiction books, I plan to start with Kurt Vonnegut's Timequake. It's presented as a novel, though from what I've gathered it's part-fiction, part-autobiography and part-reflection on writing and life. Vonnegut himself described it as a "stew" and his last novel.

The central idea is an intriguing one. A glitch in time forces everyone to relive ten years of their lives exactly as before, unable to change a single decision or action. Vonnegut uses that premise as a starting point, but the book seems to wander freely into memories, observations and stories about family, aging and the business of being a writer.

We'll see how it goes. 

Kurt Vonnegut is one of my favourite writers. I like his writing so much that I'm often tempted to imitate his style. His sentences were short, simple and almost staccato. He had a knack for saying a lot with very little. Add to that a wry sense of humour, and it's easy to see why I keep returning to his books.

It's a bird, it's a plane, it's a comics fan!

When Marvel legend Stan Lee died on November 12, 2018, millions of fans mourned him. Television host Bill Maher seemed puzzled by the outpouring of grief. In a blog post, he wondered why the passing of creator of Spider-Man, the Hulk and so many iconic superheroes should result in such grief, suggesting Lee had merely encouraged people to read comics and watch superhero movies.

As a comic-book fan who has been reading and collecting comics for more than four decades, I didn't mind Maher's remarks. I just thought he had missed the point. To people who don't read comics, they're often seen as children's entertainment or a form of escapism. To diehard readers like me, they're more personal. They entertain us, certainly, but they also stay with us, shape our imagination and, sometimes, even influence the way we look at things.

That probably explains why Maher's comments drew such a strong reaction from comic-book fans. Actor Chris Evans is believed to have said, "The comic book world is so dangerous... they're very opinionated fans. But they're great fans." He wasn't wrong. 

For many readers, comics aren't simply stories on paper. They're tied to memories.

Mine certainly are.

I was about eight years old when an uncle in San Diego sent my dad a carton containing around 40 Marvel and DC comics. Those crisp Silver Age and Bronze Age issues had travelled thousands of miles to reach our home in Goa, and they started a love of comics that has stayed with me ever since. Dad then began collecting comics, and I happily became his young accomplice.

(As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases.)

My comic-book universe wasn't limited to Marvel or DC superheroes. It included the Justice League, The Fantastic Four and the Avengers, and also The Pandavas Princes, the Maurya kings and other Great Indian Emperors, and so many wonderful comics published by Amar Chitra Katha (Immortal Picture Stories)—India’s largest-selling comic-book imprint. There was room, too, for Tarzan, the Phantom and Mandrake the Magician among hundreds of others. To me, they all belonged on the same bookshelf.

One story has stayed with me more than most.

One evening, my dad picked up Gopal and the Cowherd, a popular Bengali folktale from Amar Chitra Katha and read it out to me.

Gopal, a young boy, is frightened of walking alone through a forest to school. His mother tells him to call out to his brother, who will protect him. The boy does exactly that, and a mysterious cowherd appears, wearing a peacock-feather crown and playing a flute. He escorts Gopal safely to school and back each day. Only later does the boy's mother, his teachers and classmates realise that the cowherd was Lord Krishna himself.

As a kid, I found the story deeply moving. Looking back, I realise the story was about courage, faith and kindness without ever sounding like a lesson. 

That, to me, is one of the strengths of comic-books. The best ones entertain first and teach quietly.

Over the years I kept returning to comics—not only for excitement but also for comfort. Heroes like Arjuna and Captain America reminded me that courage isn't the absence of fear but the willingness to do the right thing despite it. At different times in life, comics became a welcome escape, a source of optimism, and a reminder that difficult situations don't last forever.

Today's comics exist alongside blockbuster films, television series and digital editions, but their appeal hasn't changed. To me, they still speak through speech bubbles and pictures in a way few other forms of storytelling can.

One of my favourite comic-book film moments comes from Spider-Man 2, when Aunt May says:

"There's a hero in all of us, that keeps us honest, gives us strength, makes us noble..."

That line isn't just about superheroes. It's about ordinary people trying to do their best every day.

Maybe that's why I still read comics long after I've grown up.

Or have I?

Book Review: Merrick by Ben Boulden

"Thief, gunman, killer. A hero you'll hate, but root for anyway."
 
Every time I watch a heist movie or read a story about an armed robbery, the same thought crosses my mind: Something's going to go wrong. No matter how meticulous the planning, things don’t always go as intended.

That's exactly what Merrick—a tough outlaw with a conscience and the hero of this fast-paced Western short story by by Ben Boulden—discovers when he joins forces with an old partner to ambush an armoured wagon in Texas and make off with a $15,000 payroll.

Merrick, who is brought in as a last-minute replacement, is well aware of the risks involved in the venture. Experience has taught him that a holdup is never easy, even if the dough is. Though reluctant to accept mastermind Clarence Tilley’s offer at first, the .44 Remington wielding outlaw cannot resist the lure of $15,000 and the prospect of moving to the California coast to live the good life.

But Merrick's getaway plan is shattered when Spider Robison, a particularly vile, greedy and trigger-happy gang member, double-crosses his accomplices, clubs Merrick over the head and makes off with the loot. After regaining consciousness, Merrick sets out to hunt Robison, not so much to seek revenge as to retrieve his rightful share of the haul and be on his way.

Merrick is not the quintessential Wild West outlaw. He is an outlaw alright but one with a conscience—a man willing to break the law, yet unwilling to cross certain lines. Tough, dangerous and quick on the draw when he has to be, Merrick also possesses a vulnerability, a sense of fair play and justice, and perhaps even compassion, qualities that set him apart from others of his kind.

At just 25 pages, Merrick is a cracker of a Western that fans of the genre will relish. Its simple but engaging plot—a stage robbery gone wrong—reminded me of the pocket-sized black-and-white Western comics I read in my youth. I could almost see each scene unfolding as a comic-book panel. Merrick would make an excellent comic-book.

I hope Ben Boulden—author of Blaze! Red Rock Rampage (15) and Blaze! Spanish Gold (18) in the Blaze! Adult Western Series—casts Merrick in more short stories, perhaps even a novel or two. I’d like to read more about the Utah outlaw’s exploits in the author's crisp narrative style. 

The lure of secondhand books in Mumbai

© Prashant C. Trikannad

Secondhand books are a little like antique furniture. They have a musty but pleasing smell, can carry surprising monetary value, and are much sought after by discerning readers and serious collectors. But just as it is not easy to buy old furniture, it is not always simple to get hold of forgotten and out-of-print books. You have to cultivate relationships with used-booksellers, rather like a news reporter nurturing a source for a scoop or a cop working an informant for a tip on an elusive gangster. Once you have a contact or two in the trade, you can sometimes track down almost any title on your wish list.

I remember nearly every secondhand book or comic-book I have bought over the past three decades, and none of them came easily.

Some years ago, I visited a prominent new-bookstore in South Mumbai to pick up a 1995 edition of DC Comics: Sixty Years of the World's Favourite Comic Book Heroes by Les Daniels, the well-known comic-book historian. The 256-page hardback, described as “The complete story of America’s favourite heroes and their talented and dedicated creators”, was on sale for the price of Rs.450 ($9 at the time). Naturally, I was elated. But I resisted the temptation to buy it. I thought the money could be put to better use and walked away. When it comes to books, however, even a devoted reader has to be practical sometimes.

It was just as well.

A couple of weeks later, I spotted a near-mint copy of the same volume at a pavement bookseller in the Fort-Fountain area, the central business district about 7 km from the bookstore. It was wedged between a tightly packed stack of academic journals and coffee-table books.

“It’s yours for Rs 150 (a little over $3),” said the bookseller, who knew his books better than I did.

I offered him Rs 100. We finally settled on Rs 125 ($2.5). It was a bargain I would have been a fool to turn down. Of course, it helped that the bookseller had been a “friend” for many years.

Not long after, I stumbled upon a fine—and, for me, rare—copy of The Penguin Book of Comics by Englishmen George Perry and Alan Aldridge, published in 1967. The 272-page volume chronicles the evolution of British and American comic books. While Perry wrote the text, Aldridge designed the cover and illustrations. The book examines the rise and fall of comics in the mid-20th century, in the wake of Fredric Wertham’s Seduction of the Innocent and the Comics Code, as well as the influence of comic strips and comic books on popular culture and on entertainment such as art, films and television.

Until the mid-1990s, booksellers lined the footpaths in that part of South Mumbai. Today, fewer than a dozen remain, thanks largely to eviction drives by the municipal corporation. Interestingly, the civic officer in charge of one such operation left the booksellers alone even as he went after other hawkers in the area. 

“Books are Saraswati,” he told me at the time, referring to the Hindu goddess of learning and knowledge. “I want people to buy and read books." 

Since the turn of the century, many sellers have abandoned books—which few people seem to be reading, let alone buying—for more lucrative goods such as mobile-phone accessories. Book collectors like me have been the losers.

Secondhand books are not as elusive as one might think. You have to keep your eyes open and know where to look. Sometimes they are right under your nose; at other times, you have to sniff them out like a wolf tracking prey. After years of browsing, I can home in on a wanted title like a heat-seeking missile. All it takes is a quick sweep of stacks upon stacks of pavement books, provided the titles are displayed prominently. With practice, book-spotting can become an art.

Some of the most rewarding secondhand-book haunts in my city of approximately 18 million are raddiwalas. These hole-in-the-wall paper marts, scattered across the island city and its extended suburbs, are more than dusty repositories of old newspapers, plastic bottles and assorted junk. You never know what reading treasures you might find there. A few organised paper marts recognise the value of good books and pass them on to professional booksellers, but most stack them near the entrance and sell them cheaply. 

Like an archaeologist digging for bones, I have been prospecting raddiwalas for well over two decades, and with some success. I once bought a dozen rare Phantom and Mandrake comics, published under the Indrajal imprint, from a paper mart close to my home for Rs 10 each ($0.16)—almost as good as free.

The raddiwala clearly did not know their real value. Bennett Coleman & Co. Ltd, publisher of The Times of India, had stopped printing Indrajal Comics in 1990. Since then, booksellers and individual collectors have quoted obscene figures for these comics, which, apart from Lee Falk’s Phantom and Mandrake, included Indian artist Abid Surti’s hero Bahadur (the Brave), Roy Crane’s Buz Sawyer, Allen Saunders’ Kerry Drake and Mike Nomad, Alex Raymond’s Flash Gordon, Rip Kirby and Phil Corrigan, and Steve Dowling’s Garth.

(As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases.)

Among the other prized books I bought secondhand were Art Spiegelman’s Maus I and Maus II; the 160-page The Science Fiction Book: An Illustrated History by Franz Rottensteiner; a hardback illustrated edition of Futuredays: A Nineteenth-Century Vision of the Year 2000 by Isaac Asimov; Cows of Our Planet: A Far Side Collection by Gary Larson; Sudden paperbacks by British writer Oliver Strange; a hardback of Nietzsche’s Thus Spoke Zarathustra; Calvin and Hobbes volumes; and dozens of DC and Marvel comics, including pocket-size war and western comic-books.

In the age of Amazon and e-books, the secondhand-book trade is slowly dying. Until it does—though I hope it never does—I will continue to look for elusive and priceless fiction and nonfiction. So far, I have been lucky enough to find a few gems every year. The secret to a productive secondhand-book hunt is patience, perseverance and, sometimes, luck—when a wanted title leaps out at you even when you are not looking. Those are the ones I like best.

Book Tag: A Q&A about my reading life

On June 17, my blog friend Tracy did a Book Tag post on her popular blog Bitter Tea and Mystery, answering a series of trivia questions about books and reading. She, in turn, had been inspired by similar book tags on other blogs. I found her version particularly enjoyable, not least because of the sheer variety of books she has read—and continues to read and review—across several genres.

(As an Amazon Associate, I earn from qualifying purchases.)

No reader ever reaches the end of the journey. I still have countless authors to discover, shelves of books waiting to be read, and many years, I hope, before I can look back with any sense of satisfaction. So I'm going to answer these questions honestly. Is there any other way? To adapt a famous line from Kurt Vonnegut's 1961 novel Mother Night—“We are what we read, so we must be careful about what we pretend to read and the books we pretend to talk about.”

Let’s see how it goes.

What book has been on your shelf the longest?

My paternal grandfather's 1965 Tudor edition of Shakespeare: Complete Works (The English Library). I'm saving it for retirement, though I suspect the Bard will have plenty of company by then. Every other year I tell myself I'll finally settle down and read Shakespeare properly. Instead, I end up dusting the cover, the spine and the yellowing pages before placing it carefully back in the cabinet.

What is your current read, last read, and the book you plan to read next?

Current Read: The Midden by British satirical novelist Tom Sharpe (one of my favourite writers) and Shall We Tell the President?, an alternative fiction by Jeffrey Archer, one of several bestselling authors I read in college. I enjoy Sharpe's irreverent wit and outrageous humour. Archer, on the other hand, is an old hand at storytelling. Remember Kane and Abel?

Last Read: Past Tense, where prolific writer-blogger Margot Kinger introduced me to her affable sleuth Joel Williams, a former policeman turned academician.

Next Read: To be honest, I have no idea. My next book is usually a random choice, though I'm tempted to pick up a P.G. Wodehouse or an Agatha Christie from my wife’s collection. It's been a while since I last read either. Wodehouse still has me in splits, even if his humour occasionally follows familiar patterns.

What book do you tell yourself you’ll read, but probably won't?

I'm going to answer this one a little differently.

I struggled through the first 30-odd pages of William Faulkner’s The Sound and the Fury and nearly gave up. I had little idea what was happening. It remains one of the most challenging books I have attempted in recent years. At times it almost felt as though Faulkner himself was saying, "My narrative style isn't for you. Read something else." I wasn't amused.

What book are you saving for retirement?

Well, as I said, Shakespeare will probably have distinguished company: Dostoyevsky, Tolstoy, Gogol, Solzhenitsyn, The Rise and Fall of the Third Reich by William L. Shirer, Thus Spoke Zarathustra by Friedrich Nietzsche (which I never finished), and a few other classics. Of course, much will depend on my eyesight and state of mind.

Which book character would you switch places with?
 
James Green, better known as Sudden, the Texas outlaw. I've admired the character ever since my paternal uncle introduced me to the eponymous western series when I was 14.

Created by British writer Oliver Strange, Sudden is my favourite Western hero. He earns both his nickname and his notoriety because of his lightning-fast draw, and is branded an outlaw for crimes he never committed. In reality, Green is a gentleman with a gun, defending ordinary folk against crooked gamblers, ranchers, rustlers and land-grabbers, even as he quietly hunts down the two men who killed the man who raised him. Sudden also has a badge—and a secret identity: Deputy Marshal of the United States, reporting directly to the Governor of Arizona.

While Strange, who never once travelled to America, wrote ten Sudden novels, fellow English writer Frederick H. Christian (better known as Frederick Nolan) added another five after Strange's death. You can hardly tell the difference. This remains the only series, in any genre, that I have read more than once.

What book reminds you of a specific place, time or person?

I'm usually so engrossed in a book that I rarely relate its plot, setting or characters to real places or people. It simply doesn't occur to me.

Which book has been with you most places?

Quite a few spiritual books, but mostly Love Never Faileth by the late Indian spiritual teacher and author Eknath Easwaran, who founded the nonprofit Blue Mountain Center of Meditation in California in 1961. This, and most of Easwaran's forty books, offers a practical guide to leading a more fulfilling life through his simple eight-point programme of passage meditation. You can open almost any page and think, "Hey, this is exactly what I needed."

Which book have you reread the most?

The books I have reread most often are philosophical and spiritual, particularly those by Easwaran and other mystics, including my own spiritual preceptor. They have been my comfort zone—my mental prop—for more than three decades.

(As an Amazon Associate, I earn from qualifying purchases.)

What book outside your comfort zone did you end up loving?

Not one, but two: The Mayor of Casterbridge and Jude the Obscure by Thomas Hardy. I read these powerful classics more than a decade ago on my wife's recommendation. Until then, I had never read an unabridged classic, apart from the abridged versions we encountered in school.

What are your three bookish confessions?
 
1. I collect books. I still own several unread books that I bought in the 1980s and 1990s. Having said that, I have been exercising some restraint. So far this year, I have bought just three books.

2. I will happily miss a bus, train or autorickshaw if I spot secondhand books for sale, even if I end up buying nothing and reaching home late.

3. I never lend books I treasure, such as my Corgi editions of the Sudden novels and my comic-books.

Do you prefer used or brand new books?
 
There is a certain charm about secondhand books, which make up most of my modest collection. This includes over two dozen secondhand—but mint-condition—paperbacks of Don Pendleton’s Mack Bolan: The Executioner. As for new books, I now buy more Kindle editions than paperbacks.

Have you ever seen a movie you liked more than the book?

Perhaps not more than the books themselves, but I thoroughly enjoyed the film adaptations of Jack Higgins' The Eagle Has Landed and A Prayer for the Dying, and Alistair MacLean's The Guns of Navarone, Where Eagles Dare and Ice Station Zebra. I also liked the screen versions of Harper Lee’s To Kill A Mockingbird, John Ball’s In the Heat of the Night, and, of course, the Harry Potter films.

Last page: read it first, or wait till the end? 

I've never read the last page first—not even to finish a book sooner—although I was tempted while reading Irving Wallace’s The Second Lady. If you’ve read the book, you’ll know why.

Name a book that you acquired in an interesting way.

DC Comics: Sixty Years of the World's Favorite Comic Book Heroes (Bulfinch, October 1995).

Many years ago, I found this collector's edition at a new bookstore for Rs 450 ($9). I wanted it badly. But wisdom prevailed, and I walked away, convincing myself the money could be put to better use—perhaps on groceries and things like that.

A few days later, while on my way to the office in another part of town, I spotted the very same book at a roadside bookseller. It was in mint condition and priced at just Rs 125 ($2.5). I bought it without a second thought.

Final two questions, my own.

Which authors you wish you had read by now?

Most Indian authors. There is such richness and variety in Indian writing in English that I often wonder why I have neglected it for so long. In hindsight, the focus of my blog should probably have been more desi than Western. I hope to make up for that by reading—and reviewing—more Indian fiction in the years ahead.

If you didn’t read books, what would you be doing?

Probably painting or learning to play a musical instrument. I think it's important to have non-work pursuits among the arts and crafts. Much of everything else is so ordinary.

Bottom line: If these answers reveal anything, I hope it's not how many books I have—or haven't—read, but the kind of reader I am. There are still countless books waiting for me, and that's part of the pleasure. Reading isn't a race. The important thing is simply to keep reading, even if it's one book at a time.

Other notable Book Tag posts
 
Nancy Elin 

Brona's Books

On Bookes

Howling Frog Books

Mage, Maze, Demon by Charles Allen Gramlich, 2016

A barbarian sent on a mission of no return.

The cover of Mage, Maze, Demon, the latest fantasy story by American writer Charles Allen Gramlich, is so striking that it instantly reminded me of the covers of Conan the Barbarian comics I read as a teenager, and still do sometimes.

I could visualise Bryle the barbarian built like Conan, and like the Cimmerian warrior, filled with raw courage and a grip that never loosens its hold on his mighty blade.

The story begins with the barbarian fleeing a raging forest fire, the howling flames licking his skin and flesh, wolves and deer outrunning him to the safety of dry land and greener pastures.

But Gramlich’s narrative is more poetic than that — “The flames shriek with joy like a fiend.”

He continues in his distinctive style, to recount Bryle’s narrow escape into a dark cavern, where he meets an evil sorcerer who baited the brave protagonist into coming to him.

Bryle is trapped inside the enormous cave. The sorcerer, whose two unseeing eyes are like black holes, offers freedom in exchange for a dangerous task — the barbarian must enter a treacherous maze to retrieve a mysterious talisman and bring it back. To get there, however, Bryle will have to get past a beast guarding the amulet, confront a powerful demon central to the story, and surmount orphic challenges.

Can he trust the necromancer? Will he let him go if he succeeds? Bryle is not sure. But like Conan, he is curious and therefore adventurous even if it means putting his life at risk. Paying no heed to his own safety, Bryle ventures into the depths of the labyrinth, unaware of help from a quiet and unlikely friend.

I think the beautiful part of fantasy and its sub-genre, sword and sorcery, is the uncertainty — neither the protagonist nor the reader are prepared for what is coming next. It’s a literary form where fear and pity have no place. Gramlich, an expert on the phantasmagoric works of Robert E. Howard, creator of Conan, piles on the suspense and surprise with every narrative line.

Mage, Maze, Demon is the first sword-and-sorcery yarn I read, and liked. However, it was my second fantasy story by Gramlich, the first being his Harvest of War. Both stories are about brave warriors turned survivors.

This story is based on “a concept developed by David Cranmer (publisher of Beat to a Pulp) for the Veridical Dreams Series 3, inspired by the dreams journals of Kyle J. Knapp."

Mage, Maze, Demon is a very readable fast-paced action-adventure that will appeal to readers of fantasy fiction, and particularly sword and sorcery.

Musings from my Facebook page

As you can see, I have not been posting much on my blog for a variety of reasons, mainly lack of time and general lethargy. I have been trying to get back into blog and review mode by writing on my Facebook page, where I'm more consistent. I pen my thoughts, and little stories, mostly on sentimental and nostalgic stuff almost every day. I steer clear of controversial topics, politics and religion, about which there is growing intolerance on social media and elsewhere. The forced refrain is: “You have a right to your opinion provided you agree with mine.” There is just too much negativity out there and it is pathetic. 

I'm on Facebook for a bit of fun.

I stick to the simple and ordinary things of life—memories of my childhood years, everyday observations, books I read, movies I'm watching, inner peace, food I love eating, places I visit, life in pictures, and that sort of thing. I write about things that make me feel good—as everything we do, should—and also resonate with others including family and friends.

You’ll get an idea from the following compilation of my most recent Facebook entries published over the past ten days. Some of my blog friends who are also my Facebook friends might have read these before. Others need not be compelled to read at all. It might be dreadfully boring and result in reader mortis. I have edited some of the posts for brevity, if brevity is, indeed, possible these days.

November 8: The Phantom—The Ghost Who Walks and Man Who Cannot Die—married in the mid-80s, a few years before I did. I "attended" his wedding in the Skull Cave. He tied the knot with the beautiful Diana Palmer of New York, in the presence of an odd bunch of guests—Diana's mother and Uncle Dave; Mandrake the Magician and Lothar; the pygmy Bandar led by best man Guran; his adopted son Rex; friend Thal, king of the Little People; Hero and Devil, his white stallion and wolf; and, Hzz, the prehistoric half man-half beast living on his isle of Eden, where all his other animals, including a stegosaurus, eat grass and live peacefully; where lions eat fish.

I thought the Phantom's attire was wholly inappropriate for such an important occasion. But then, he got married as the Phantom and not as Kit Walker, his secret urban identity. If Diana didn't mind, who the hell was I to object? I wore a suit at my wedding. The Guardian of the Eastern Dark didn't show up. Ever since, we haven't been on talking, or reading, terms.

November 6: My dad loved Kapi. He liked his coffee hot and strong with a spot of milk and very little sugar. Sometimes he used to skip dinner and have Kapi and buttered bread or toast, instead. He'd apply a good amount of butter on the bread slices and toast them on an open pan till they were golden brown. He'd then carefully slice each toast into four perfect squares, dip each bit in hot coffee, and pop it into his mouth. He made them for me, too. And was it delicious! The taste of salted buttered toast dunked in coffee or tea, if I may rightly exaggerate, is heavenly. Over the years I have tickled my palate by dipping crisp and crunchy Khara biscuits and Brun-maska in tea.

I'm not fond of coffee unless it is an authentic South Indian brew. Occasionally, I feel like having Kapi when I'm reading about detectives in crime fiction, gulping down mugs of steaming black coffee. I can almost smell it.

November 5: I love slapstick comedy and I'm extremely partial to Laurel and Hardy. They are the best. Such sweet innocence and so much fun. It's a pity there have been such few comedians in that laugh-out-loud category. I left Charles Chaplin out because, while I like him as an actor and have enjoyed many of his films, he is not funny. In fact, he can be quite depressing. When I think of slapstick, I think of mindless comedy. Comedy for the sake of comedy.

November 5: Last evening, I hit pay dirt at one of my secondhand book haunts: a used brand new 4-in-1 collection of Lucky Luke comics. Lucky Luke is a Belgian namesake comic-book series created and drawn by Morris (Maurice De Bevere) and written by Goscinny, who also wrote many of the earliest Asterix comics. I have been reading the adventures of Lucky Luke, the American cowboy known to "shoot faster than his shadow," since early teens. Good fun and absolute value for my Rs.50 (less than $1).

November 5: My reading room on wheels—where I read more Facebook and less book. The 7.45 am siren at the Khar railway yard, en route to work, just went off. A familiar sound back from my childhood. As long as it's not an air raid siren, all's well with our world.

© Prashant C. Trikannad

November 4: At the end of the day

I step out of my air-conditioned coffin.
Street boys hammer drums,
the devil knows why.
Roadside woofers, like black holes,
blast distorted music.
Fuckin' drivers leapfrog signals,
nearly knocking me down.
Crackers go off on my tail,
precursor to the advent of hell.
I rugby my way to the station,
past hawkers and jaywalkers.
I sweat it out in a crammed local.
I sweat it out in a snaky bus queue.
I sweat it out in drunken traffic.
Two hours too late,
I reach home, lose my head.
My pet wags her little tail.
I growl at her, sending her off.
“How was your day, darling?”
My face looks like burnt toast.
A hushed silence descends.
The air-conditioner comes on.
I set off again,
this time on a guilt trip.

November 4: I grew up with images of many iconic films. Of course, I realised they were iconic much later, after I started watching old movies on VCR & VCP and cable in mid-80s and early 90s. Two classics are etched in my mind: the scene where a crop-dusting plane is chasing Cary Grant in Hitchcock's North by Northwest, 1959, and the Burt Lancaster-Deborah Kerr steamy beach kiss in From Here to Eternity, 1953.

Elders in the family fondly recalled actors of their generation, who they grew up watching on the big screen. I'm glad they became actors of my generation too. When I look back on their era, I think of absolute class, style, and substance.

November 3: This Christmas-New Year I'm going on a tour of some of the most fascinating places in the world. My global stopovers will include Gotham City, Xanadu, Metropolis and The Daily Planet, Jaigarh, Gaul, the Skull Cave and Denkali, Asgard, Marlinspike Hall, Dwarka, Riverdale, Mongo, Bayport, Rich Mansion, Coast City, Pellucidar, Disney, Atlantis, and Sherwood Forest. S.H.I.E.L.D. is lending me their Quinjet.

Would you like to join me?

© Prashant C. Trikannad

November 3: Spare a thought for my pet...and me: Next week is Diwali, the festival of lights...and loud noise. The next few days are going to be traumatic for Stubs as deafening firecrackers cause her such fear as to make her lose her appetite and spend most of her time under the bed. She and her affectionate kind must curse humans, as I do. Request a reveller to desist from firing bombs, or light them elsewhere, and the smirky response will be, "Uncle, it's Diwali. No fun without crackers!" or it could be something like this, in crass Hindi, "What goes of your father?" effectively telling me to go to hell.

There is growing awareness about the harm firecrackers can cause to animals and people, but it's never going to be enough without a corresponding increase in compassion.

November 6: The World's Finest comic pictured below was one of 40 DC-Marvel comic-books my uncle from San Diego gifted us in the mid-70s. He inspired my dad, and his elder brother, to add to the lot every month. Before long, we had an impressive collection of Amar Chitra Katha, Indrajal, including Phantom, Mandrake, and Flash Gordon, the Harvey bunch, Archie and the Gang, Walt Disney, Tintin and Asterix, Dell, Whitman, and pocket Commando, and Western.

I took the comics baton from dad in the early 80s and widened the collection to include M.A.D., Maus, Classics Illustrated, and DC-Marvel annual editions. Forty years later, I can still smell those 40 brand-new comics. 

If you've read thin A4-size comics from that era, you'll know what I'm talking about. It felt like heaven to this kid.

November 1: Chess has been the single greatest learning experience of my life. This beautiful game beats school, college, and university education by a long mile. Chess is a seamless blend of passion, excitement, concentration, strategy, management, sacrifice, loyalty, patience, and ambition. I like to think of the 16 pieces as members of a close-knit family who look out for each other, like the mafia. They have their strengths and weaknesses but what holds them together on the 64-square board is blood kinship. 

Chess has taught me a lot in life; everything else I learnt on the job.

October 31: Barring Red Sonja, I have read the wild adventures of the other three superwomen—Axa and Modesty Blaise as comic strips and Xena as a comic book. I first read Axa—the forever-nude female Conan written by Donne Avenell and drawn by Romero—in the tabloid magazine, The Sun, known largely for its coverage of music. This was in the early 80s. I think, The Sun bought the rights for Axa from its British namesake where it was originally published. 

Axa bears a striking resemblance to Red Sonja who came before her. The origins of these two sword-sorcerers is interesting. Modesty Blaise was, of course, a three-unit black-and-white comic strip that many Indian newspapers published, alongside a similar James Bond strip. Sometimes, you didn't know which was which. I'm sure most Indians first heard of Xena the Warrior Princess through her television show. I didn't know she had a comic-book until much later.

Have you read any of these femme fatales of the comics world?

October 29: Every morning, a blind couple enters my coach in the 7.49 local and begs for alms. They sing lovely bhakti-geet, or devotional songs. They don't have much of a voice but together they sound good. I find it soothing, even if it is for a brief moment, till they get off at the next station and hop into another coach and start all over again. Singing blind during peak-hour rush can’t be easy.

I was raised on devotional songs, thanks to my dad who sang to my sister and me at bedtime, almost every night in our childhood and early teens. You can't go to sleep with a more secure and comforting feeling.

October 28: I'm seriously thinking of replacing my car with this single-wheel eco-friendly self-propeller. I could get around much faster. But I'm going to have to make sure I look like a formal guy and not a circus clown. Imagine, I could wheel myself right into my office and up to my desk. No pay and park. The more I think of my fuel-efficient idea, the more I'm convinced it'll work.

This weekend I'll hop over to the nearest stone quarry and place an order for a custom-built spoked wheel with a small headlight and a loud horn that I can control with my feet. I"m pretty excited. I must thank Johnny Hart whose B.C. comic strip was my inspiration. Next step: licence.

October 27: When we dogear the pages of our book, the book must feel like someone is twisting its ears. We know how painful that is. A book has life too. Every word on a page is like each breath we take.

That’s all the corniness for now. If you’re on Facebook, I’d be delighted to connect with you.

© Prashant C. Trikannad