Three longboxes of unread comics

I have three longboxes full of comics I’ve never read.

Not monkeyrocks stock. Not comics waiting to be sorted, priced or listed. My comics. Comics I’ve deliberately gone into a comic shop, picked up, paid for and brought home because I genuinely wanted to read them.

And then… didn’t.

Since starting monkeyrocks, I’ve probably spent more time surrounded by comics than at any other point in my life. I’m constantly buying collections, sorting comics, grading them, bagging and boarding them, pricing them, listing them, packing orders and taking boxes of them to comic shows.

But somewhere along the way, I stopped actually reading the bloody things. The ridiculous part is that I never stopped buying them.

I still visit my local comic shop pretty much every week. I still look through the new releases, spot things I fancy and bring home another little pile. I’ve apparently been completely unwilling to accept the fairly obvious evidence that I wasn’t actually getting around to reading any of them.

So the pile grew. Actually, “pile” makes it sound far more organised than it was.

There were carrier bags full of comics. Piles in various places. Half finished runs mixed up with completely different series. Comics I’d bought months apart nowhere near each other. Some weren’t even bagged and boarded.

I know!

I sell comics and my own collection wasn’t even bagged and boarded. Sacrilege.

It eventually reached the point where the mess itself was stopping me reading them. I’d fancy carrying on with a particular series but wouldn’t have a clue where the next issue was. Did I have issue #4? Had I actually read #3? Was #5 in one of the bags? Had I even bought it?

Rather than excavating half the house to find out, I’d inevitably think “I’ll sort them out another day.” And then I’d go to the comic shop and buy some more. This week, “another day” finally arrived. I got the lot out and started sorting.

Everything went into order. Runs were put back together. Comics that had somehow been living completely naked were finally given the dignity of a bag and board. And by the time I’d finished, my enormous chaotic pile of unread comics had become three properly organised longboxes.

It was while I was sorting them that something unexpected happened. I started enjoying my collection again.

When comics are stuffed into carrier bags or disappearing into random piles, you stop really looking at them. They’re just stuff you need to sort out. But picking up every single issue, bagging it, boarding it and putting it alongside the rest of its run meant I actually looked at them again.

There was some absolutely gorgeous artwork I’d barely noticed when I bought it. Series I’d completely forgotten I owned. Covers that made me immediately want to know what was going on inside.

I’d shelled out money for all of these because at some point I’d looked at each one and thought, “I want to read that.”

Somewhere along the way, my collection had stopped feeling like a collection and started feeling like a backlog.

Sorting it changed that and, more importantly, I started reading again.

I’ve read quite a few comics this week. Not as many as the existence of three enormous boxes suggests I probably need to, but it’s a start.

And I’ve bloody loved it!

I’ve already found some fantastic stories from the last few years that had completely passed me by, which is particularly ridiculous considering they’ve been sitting in my house the entire time.

There’s also been a little bit of relief in all this. When I started monkeyrocks, I did occasionally wonder whether turning something I loved into a business might eventually spoil it for me. Comics became stock. They became SKUs, grades, prices, orders and boxes that needed sorting. I was handling thousands of them, but rarely sitting down and actually enjoying one.

I wondered whether I’d accidentally turned my hobby into work. Turns out I haven’t, I still love reading comics.

I still love finding a new series and getting completely sucked into it. I still love the artwork. I still love finishing an issue and immediately reaching for the next one. And apparently I still love buying them at a considerably faster rate than I can read them.

The three longboxes are evidence of that. They’re still very full, so I’ve got a lot of catching up to do. But they’re in order. They’re bagged and boarded. I know what I’ve got. I’m reading again.

And for the first time in ages, they don’t feel like three boxes of comics I need to get through. They feel like three boxes of comics I can’t wait to read.

Obviously, I’ll still be going to the comic shop next week and buying more.

I’m not a f***ing miracle worker. 😉