Sometime-Stranger contributor Carrie Golus makes comics that are more like illustrated short stories than anything else. Though a Lynda Barry influence is clear here, Golus has her own agenda. As the words move and the highly detailed drawings remain static (with subtle variations), it's as if the author is bearing down on her visuals, commanding them to hold still so she can study the narrative movement or the tiny, susurrant vibrations inside her highly detailed, decorative backgrounds.

The tension between this stillness and movement can make a reader long for more dramatic narratives. Golus' youthful characters inhabit slice-of-life stories: a Halloween night escape from a bully, a couple of deluded teenagers who meet at a party and set up a date, a college teacher who realizes she is mediocre at her job. These narratives are so subtle, they force the reader to ask, "Why is this moment worth telling?" And that question is a warning when it comes up in fiction.

Although Golus successfully portrays commonplace, egoistic teenagers, mean instances of professional jealousies, or the painfully slow process of finding a life after college graduation, mini-escalations or skirmishes of some kind are missing--and what is real life if not dramatic? In addition, Golus' characters all have the same voice--that is, a colloquial speech full of "I means" and "or whatevers," which she would do well to vary in future works. But Golus will attract attention for her vulnerable, nontrendy-looking art; my favorite Alternator story is the lyrically drawn Halloween-memory piece dominated by dreamy stars and mountains. The panels are full of minute, creeping movement and conjure a sense of the deep safety we feel even in the most podunk, inhospitable hometowns.