BIG ANNOUNCEMENT! Mom's Cancer Anniversary Edition

In 2006, Abrams ComicArts published Mom's Cancer, about my mother's treatment for metastatic cancer. The story had already gotten some notice as a webcomic, for which it won an Eisner Award, and it's been in print ever since. The book has had a life I couldn't have imagined when I wrote and drew it, including being taught in medical schools.

To mark its 20th (!) anniversary, Abrams and I are publishing an updated edition with 32 pages of new material. That includes 22 pages of comics that tell the rest of the story after the events of the 2006 book, plus a new foreword by my friend and Graphic Medicine co-founder MK Czerwiec, as well as an author's note with background, sketches, ephemera, and my perspective on "what it all means." We didn't touch the original story, just expanded it to bring it up to the present.

The first page of new material.

If you're familiar with the original book, the new cover looks subtly different. I painted it with watercolors rather than digitally this time, which I think gives it a tad more life. We added the "Eisner" seal. Notably, the spine will be pink cloth instead of navy blue to differentiate it from the original. It echoes the pink that symbolizes women's cancer and the stripes in Mom's shirt. Also, a few years ago, a Brazilian publisher put out a Portuguese edition of Mom's Cancer that had a neon pink cover, and we all looked at it and thought, "Gee, I wouldn't have done that in a thousand years, but it's kinda cool!" So it's also a nod to that.

The very pink cover of the Portuguese translation from a few years ago.

My editor, Charlie Kochman, and I are very proud of this new edition. It was his idea to do it and I'm grateful. I hope/think this will become the definitive version of the story. In my mind, it gives Mom's Cancer the ending it deserved but never really had. 

The 20th anniversary edition of Mom's Cancer will be out in March 2026. We're actually reviewing printer's proofs now. You can find it at the Abrams website and, soon, wherever books are sold. Please patronize your local heroic independent booksellers!

Big thanks to my friends and readers (not to mention my editor and publisher!) for 20-plus years of support! It means everything. 

250 Words on the Best Spaceships

[I try to start my day writing 250 words on anything. I’ll post one every Tuesday until I run out of good ones.]

Nerd Debate Day! In my opinion, there are three science-fictional spaceships that stand head and shoulders above all others.

Three: The Discovery from 2001: A Space Odyssey, which resembled a column of vertebrae connecting a skull to a pelvis. Its bulky nuclear engine was at the rear, far from the spherical crew compartment, which had a centrifuge to provide gravity. It was an elegant, practical-looking vessel, and director Stanley Kubrick shot it beautifully.

Two: The Eagle ships from Space: 1999 were better-conceived than the TV program they were on. Eagles were adaptable: different specialized modules plugged into a cockpit/engine superstructure to carry cargo, passengers, or scientific instruments. It was a utilitarian, no-nonsense vehicle and a reasonably speculative extension of NASA's lunar module design.

One: Star Trek’s Enterprise was, I contend, the first make-believe spacecraft that really felt like it flew people through space. Earlier ships looked like the sparkler-spewing models they were; one Enterprise contemporary, the Jupiter 2 from Lost in Space, was an unconvincing pie pan with lights and legs. The Enterprise had it all: scale, grace, dynamism.  

One quality my favorite spaceships share is verisimilitude. They feel plausible. Kubrick was a stickler for scientific accuracy. The Eagle’s modularity was elegantly engineered. Enterprise designer Matt Jeffries applied principles of real-world aeronautical design.

There are many other contenders: the Millennium Falcon, Firefly’s Serenity, Battlestar Galactica, Nostromo, Dark Star. I think much of what makes a spaceship great is the emotion we attach to it. Love the show, love the ship.

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Conjunction Junction

Karen wakes before I do and has standing orders to roust me out of bed if she sees anything interesting in the pre-dawn sky. Today was one of those days. If you rise before the Sun you may have seen it, too, but I can still shed some light (heh!) on a few details.

My iPhone picture isn't great but it's sufficient. Photo on the left, annotations on the right. The spectacular trio that really dazzles is the Moon, Jupiter, and Venus. Their conjunction is happening in the constellation Gemini, headlined by the stars named for the mythological twins Castor and Pollux. 

What you may not have noticed, and is faint in my photo, is the planet Mercury peeking over the horizon. It is said that the great astronomer Copernicus never saw Mercury. I doubt that's true--Mercury isn't that difficult to see--unless he wasn't such a great astronomer after all or just never bothered to look for it.

The scene will look much like this tomorrow except the Moon will have moved closer to the Sun, down near where Mercury was this morning. If you're an early riser, enjoy the show!

250 Words on Living Lighter

[I try to start my day writing 250 words on anything. I’ll post one every Tuesday until I run out of good ones.]

One consequence of the wildfire that destroyed our home in 2017 is that Karen and I are living lighter.

Possessions don’t carry the same emotional weight they used to, partly because very few of ours are more than eight years old. We did save some things when we evacuated, and were given some family artifacts afterward, and those are priceless. The rest of it? Whatever.

When we rebuilt our home, we had to think about how to fill it. For example, I used to have thousands of books and a good comic book collection. Should I reassemble that library? Mostly, I decided not to. I repurchased a few books that I considered essential, but otherwise resolved to start fresh. The fun part of acquiring my old books had been the thrill of discovery and the hunt. Even if I could afford to reacquire them, the fun would be gone. 

And now my bookshelves are packed with new books. 

We have a shelf full of mugs in our kitchen. Whenever we get a new mug, an old one has to leave the house to make room for it. Do I like this prospective mug better than an old one? If not, no sale. 

For nearly everything we buy, we ask ourselves, “Do we really want it? What are we going to do with it? Where are we going to put it?” We don’t live like monks—we still have plenty of junk—but it’s mostly gathered with thoughtful intention. It’s good. 

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250 Words on Three Telescopes

[I try to start my day writing 250 words on anything. I’ll post one every Tuesday until I run out of good ones.]

When I was about 12, my parents bought me a telescope. It was a refractor, the type with a lens at the front—exactly what you envision when you hear the word “telescope.” It was a terrible optical instrument from K-Mart, worthless for looking at anything but the Moon. 

I think well-meaning folks do more harm than good when they buy their kids subpar hobby gear that only frustrates them. Investigate more and get better stuff. Still, I spent hours with it. 

In college, I hosted my campus’s public stargazing sessions with a reflecting telescope inside a little domed observatory. The scope’s tube was about 7 feet long, and I got so familiar with it that I could spin it around to point at a nebula or galaxy with my back turned to the sky. We did real research with it, and I spent many nights pushing both its and my capabilities, hunting for the dimmest deep-sky objects I could see. 

Also in college, I had a few opportunities to visit Lick Observatory, built atop Mt. Hamilton east of San Jose, California. Established in 1888, Lick is a historic institution, and its 36-inch (diameter) telescope looks like a gigantic steampunk hallucination. Viewing the M13 globular cluster through that eyepiece was a religious experience. It’s a dandelion puffball comprising half a million stars, and I swear I could see every one. 

I was awestruck. Dumbstruck. Thunderstruck. I’ve visited some sacred places, but Lick’s dome is the holiest temple I’ve ever entered.

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250 Words on 250 Words

[I try to start my day writing 250 words on anything. I’ll post one every Tuesday until I run out of good ones.]

Exactly one year ago today, August 5, 2024, I posted my first “250 Words” essay (it works out to the same date because I initially posted them on Mondays before switching to Tuesdays). I still enjoy doing them and don’t plan to stop. I hope you’re enjoying them, too.

Some readers have said that these posts are one of the few light or thoughtful things they can count on reading every week, and I appreciate that. That’s the goal. They’re a good length to express one idea with a beginning, middle and end that can be read in a minute.

When I started writing 250-word pieces as a private morning warm-up, I first tried 200 words. That was too short to finish a thought. I tried 300 words but that was too long. I decided that 250 was juuuust right. I think of this as writing a weekly column for a small daily newspaper. 

They’re all precisely 250 words, by the way. I work at that. 

As I review the preceding 52 essays, I see surprising cumulative weight. Each is a bite-sized nugget, but together they also provide a good, granular overview of how I think about things, what I care about, and my life. I always said that if someone wanted to know me better than my longest, dearest friends do, all they had to do was read my comics. Now I’d add these essays to the list. 

On to another year, or until it stops being fun! Thanks.

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PLEASE SUBSCRIBE! I am sharing these little "250 Words On" essays via Substack, which will email a new one to your In Box every Tuesday morning. Just follow this link and enter your email address. It's free, and I promise to never use your address for evil purposes.

Savage on the Hornet 4

Former Mythbuster Adam Savage has posted his fourth video exploring my favorite aircraft carrier museum, the USS Hornet - Sea, Air and Space Museum. I believe this is the last one, although who knows? If Mr. Savage's "Tested" crew got enough good footage out of their day aboard ship, they may go on forever. 

This episode focuses on aircraft restoration, most of which is done by a burly crew of gear-head volunteers as well as a neat corps of high school students. As always, I love Adam's enthusiasm, which is well-matched in this video by his guide, Anthony. One thing that's generally true about the Hornet staff: they're passionate about their jobs and their ship!

The Hornet is in the middle of its summer fundraising push and would love it if Adam's 7 million subscribers donated a dollar each. Well, that's not going to happen, but if you watch the video, maybe consider clicking on this link and sending them a few bucks? In addition, here's the Hornet's wish list that Adam and Anthony mentioned. They're a big ship with a small-museum budget and every donation counts.