Folks are always asking me \u201chow\u2019d you get so strong?\u201d and \u201cwith a game like that, why didn\u2019t you go pro?\u201d and mostly, \u201chow\/why do you read so many comics?\u201d While part of the answer to all of these is \u201cbaby, I woke up like this,\u201d I\u2019ll also admit that putting three wild young boys to bed every night affords me some reading time on the nights they need me to sit with them for longer. Lately, though, reading comics in the dark has been replaced by watching the NBA playoffs in the dark (I\u2019m a Bulls fan, but at this point in the playoffs, I think I\u2019m just here for Ant-Man \u2013 a sentence no one has ever said before!). This reduction of comics time has given me a strong appreciation of all the great trades and graphic novels on this list, and probably a quicker trigger finger when I need to bail on a new work that just isn\u2019t clicking for me.<\/p>\n
I always worry that keeping up with the best of comics month by month can feel a bit like speed dating, and that my rule of giving everything a 50-page minimum may not be enough, especially for more patient works. At the same time, if a work can\u2019t grab my attention via plot, style, or craft within 50 pages\u2026 that ain\u2019t all on me! This is all a long-winded way of saying I\u2019m endlessly amazed by how many quite good comics I can\u2019t fit onto my picks, and that if you ask nicely, I\u2019ve got a pretty robust honorable mentions list for comics in 2025!<\/p>\n
You can find the full 2025 list of all my favorite comics this year.<\/a> I\u2019m up to 40 for the year! Don\u2019t hesitate to let me know any of your favorites I may have missed via dave@comicbookherald.com!<\/p>\n To get these picks sent directly to your mailbox every month, sign up here for free<\/a>.<\/p>\n It\u2019s a bit of a reach on my part to lump these two together, but there are no rules in this world, and I\u2019ll do as I please. The tether here is \u201cabsolutely gorgeous graphic novels for YA audiences,\u201d and really this is just an excuse to say I was happily blown away with the skill of Taylor Robin (Hunger\u2019s Bite<\/em>) and Ariel Slamet Ries (Strange Bedfellows<\/em>). Hunger\u2019s Bite<\/em> is a classic vampires-at-sea horror adventure, and Strange Bedfellows<\/em> is a futuristic play on late-developing superpowers for a teen who would *much<\/strong>* rather they didn\u2019t!<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n Comic Book Herald is reader-supported. When you buy through links on our site, we may earn a qualifying affiliate commission.<\/p>\n Comic Book Herald\u2019s reading orders and guides are also made possible by My Marvelous Year club support on Patreon<\/a>, and generous reader donations.<\/p>\n Any size contribution will help keep CBH alive and full of new comics guides and content. Support\u00a0CBH\u2019s My Marvelous Year on Patreon<\/a>\u00a0for exclusive rewards<\/strong><\/em>, or Donate here!<\/a>\u00a0Thank you for reading!<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n Neither of those overly tidy summaries appropriately capture the rich depth of every page, though. Robin\u2019s Hunger\u2019s Bite<\/em> uses monsters to explore labor exploitation, and Ries\u2019 Strange Bedfellows<\/em> uses psychic manifestation of dreams to explore queer longing and family dynamics. Although their styles are quite different \u2013 Robin\u2019s chasing gothic Colleen Coover for the Webtoon era, and Ries\u2019 patient character work explodes into psychedelic dreamscapes \u2013 both works are great examples of the unique visual fingerprint needed to stand out in an extremely crowded market.<\/p>\n I became so convinced reading John Kissee\u2019s Doctor Rigby<\/em> that the character was pulled from the free-use copyright haven of the Golden Age of comics that I conducted several very confused searches that mostly led to results for actual real life Doctors (One moment I\u2019m writing a comics review, and the next I\u2019ve scheduled my proctology exam!). Rigby (no known relation to Elenaor) is all Kissee\u2019s, but is rooted thoroughly in supernatural monster-hunting pulp, Doc Savage<\/em> by way of Doctor Who<\/em> by way of Hellboy<\/em>. It\u2019s a testament to Kissee\u2019s confident storytelling that in quickfire short stories through various monstrous maladies, Rigby feels like a long established adventurer in all the best ways.<\/p>\n Tales From the Deep<\/em> spans Frankensteins, Vampires and Zombies<\/em>, but all with a careful, almost casual inversion of all the most well worn expectations. Kissee\u2019s bi-tone cartooning weaves easily in and out of shades of horror, with a design sense akin to early DIY Jonathan Hickman (perhaps I\u2019m reading too much into it, but it doesn\u2019t feel like an accident that both began as graphic designers). This is one of my favorite off-the-beaten-path reads of 2025.<\/p>\n Truthtelling time: The only hesitancy I feel placing Minor Arcana<\/em> among my 2025 favorites is due to the fact that I already gave a nod to Jeff Lemire\u2019s Fishflies<\/em> graphic novel. Honestly, if I had known I\u2019d be this into Lemire\u2019s \u201creturn\u201d to a DIY indie ongoing (there\u2019s a lot of \u201cnot seen since Sweet Tooth<\/em>!\u201d hype here), I wouldn\u2019t have included Fishflies<\/em>. Am I that fickle about overhyping the same creator twice in the span of 5 months? Yes. Yes I am.<\/p>\n But a winning comic is a winning comic, and I\u2019ve been very impressed with Lemire\u2019s 2025 (throwing Absolute Flash<\/em> into the mix as well). Lemire\u2019s not reinventing himself, and admittedly it would be easy to poke fun at his evolution (instead of fathers\/sons Minor Arcana<\/em> dares to explore mothers\/daughters!), but that\u2019s the danger of such incredible longevity and familiarity. Lemire brings his cartooning expertise here to familiar themes \u2013 escaping small towns, addiction, broken relationships \u2013 and adds the supernatural strange of transporting tarot cards. I\u2019m excited to see what a second volume will bring and whether this truly has \u201cyour next favorite long running comic\u201d potential.<\/p>\n Jason Walz tackles grief head-on in this supernatural horror graphic novel about a preteen boy losing his best friend to cancer. The work stems from Walz\u2019s own loss of a dear friend, and you can feel the hard-earned emotional understanding throughout. There\u2019s no question that a work about grief, this focused on the worst kind of loss can be an incredibly tough sell \u2013 life\u2019s hard enough, who wants to put themselves through that kind of emotional ringer for 300 great looking pages? Walz balances the challenge with the mystery of the flipside world, flashbacks that help establish the deceased as a funny, bright child (and not just \u201cthe one who passed\u201d), and a difficult but deserved sense of moving forward.<\/p>\n Walz\u2019s \u201cflipside\u201d universe is a great chance to explore his style, with a featured beast like some unholy gorgeous mash-up of Bill Sienkiewicz\u2019s Warlock<\/em>, Charlie Adlard\u2019s post-apocalypse, and Raina Telgemeir\u2019s middle grade clarity. In a crowded younger readers market, standing out either comes down to truly remarkable story execution or standout style, and Walz has the latter for miles.<\/p>\n I\u2019m starting to think art might imitate life. Someone should write that down. Canto<\/em> is David Booher and Drew Zucker\u2019s story of the little knights that could, underdogs overcoming incredible odds against the tyrannical oppressions of The Shrouded Man, and it\u2019s a similar comics-miracle to see this book find its way to a conclusion. Canto<\/em> debuted in 2019 via IDW publishing, achieved some critical acclaim (including a place on CBH\u2019s 50 favorite comics of 2021), and ran for three 6 issue runs and some one-shot specials until the end of 2022. As so often happens in comics, the \u201cfreshness\u201d of the book wore off a bit, and Dark Horse grabbed the rights from IDW to print a fourth and now fifth (and for now) final volume concluding the Shrouded Man saga.<\/p>\n Booher, Zucker and colorist Vittorio Astone\u2019s Canto<\/em> remains as gorgeous as ever, and as earnestly inspiring as it was from day one. I cannot possibly overstate HOW MANY new fantasy comics there are every minute of every day which makes me really appreciate when creators tap into a seemingly empty well for a taste of something refreshing. So the recommendation for Canto Volume 5: A Place Like Home<\/em> is partly because it\u2019s an effective end to this long-running saga (had they taken the single issue ongoing route, it would be a 30 issue plus one-shots run), but primarily as a plug to go back and start from issue #1 for those who missed the ride.<\/p>\n Marjorie Liu and Sana Takeda\u2019s The Night Eaters<\/em> helps me briefly imagine a world where the YA bookworms flock to the shelves for this magical family fending the demon-apocalypse the way my generation did for that spunky lil\u2019 wizard crafted by that hateful author. This should be a \u201cBig Deal\u201d kind of book, two of comics finest creators churning out big meaty new books in a proper trilogy in the span of 3 and a half years. It\u2019s not that the Monstress<\/em> creative team lacks recognition (the first volume won an Eisner!), but the work does seem to get drowned out like so much in a completely fractured attention deficit economy. Which is a shame because to my mind Liu and Takeda are as much a comics institution as Brubaker\/Philips, and I\u2019d like to see those kinds of duos break through to the Telgemeir and Pilkey level of \u201cI\u2019ve memorized the release date 6 months in advance.\u201d<\/p>\n Admittedly, I drift to big picture thoughts here because the conclusion to The Night Eaters<\/em> didn\u2019t grab me nearly as much as volume two, although all the snappy, charming family dynamics are as strong as they ever were, and Takeda has the visual portrayal of mystical demons down pat (to the point that I would not be surprised in the slightest if Takeda revealed she has in fact been in talks with a mister stick satan that only she can see for years). Liu and Takeda\u2019s worst day is still a pie-in-the-sky ambition for most of the comics-making world. Personally, I think the team gets lost in the weight of Book 3, the only volume well over 300 pages, with some iffy pacing and confused stakes. Nonetheless, if you were here for the first two books, you\u2019ll want to be here for the third, and when Liu and Takeda click on the dynamics between Milly and Billy, or the reveal of a certain design within the family, it\u2019s among the finest moments in graphic novels. It should be a big deal!<\/p>\n I\u2019ve been buying a LOT of mail-order comics this year, often sight unseen from creators I haven\u2019t read. If it weren\u2019t for the packages full of all ages review comics that I can claim are ALSO for the kids, I think my wife might have some questions. You could make a compelling case that I\u2019m rapidly buying comics to try and stem the gnawing sense of dread I feel about force-fed A.I. consuming all professional opportunities and *gesturing wildly* America in 2025, but I prefer to argue that I\u2019m just really into supporting creators this year!<\/p>\n Annah Feinberg\u2019s Goodbye, Dolly!<\/em> was among the most on-a-whim recent selections, and what a ride! Feinberg\u2019s cartoons have appeared in The New Yorker<\/em>, and she brings that acerbic whit and whimsy here to the story of the children of the world\u2019s most famous cloned sheep. The story begins following Dolly\u2019s death (although her spoiled nepo lambs don\u2019t yet realize as much), as the sheeplebrity boasts of her maternal virtues from beyond the grave. Meanwhile, three of the second-gen clone sheep are tossed from their spoiled existence into the wild where a journey of found family and self discovery (well, a bit) ensues. It\u2019s predictably funny in places (You can try to outpun \u201cPhantom Lamb\u201d in a book about Dolly, but you won\u2019t succeed), but surprisingly heartfelt in others. The most interesting element is Feinberg\u2019s use of photography as baaaaaaackground, layering her oddly assembled family over the rustic landscapes of Edinburgh. The approach screams of my favorite thing in comics right now; creatively finding out-of-the-box ways to do it all your damn self!<\/p>\n In many ways, Darcy Van Poelgeest and Ian Bertram\u2019s Little Bird<\/em> universe is everything I want out of dystopian comic book sci-fi. Uncompromising vision, futuristic spectacle, thematic prescience, and a many-headed monster oozing with blood and spikes. As John Galati wrote of 2019\u2019s Little Bird<\/em> on CBH\u2019s year-end best-of list, \u201cThe book itself feels like a classic story out of Heavy Metal<\/em> or Metal Hurlant<\/em>. It is beautiful even when it\u2019s incredibly bloody. Its characters, outfits, and buildings feel like a cross between Moebius and Katsuhiro Otomo, while its story feels wild and unpredictable.\u201d<\/p>\n Reunited with Matt Hollingsworth, Hassan Otsmane-Elhaou and Ben Didier, Precious Metal<\/em> returns to this Eisner-award winning world with a 35-years earlier prequel. It\u2019s a calculated, enormous gamble that speaks to both the confidence of the creative team, and the refusal to take part in anything resembling marketing. It has been 5 years since I read Little Bird,<\/em> which in contemporary attention cycle terms roughly translates to 5 trillion years. The sensible play would be Little Bird<\/em> Volume 2, continuing both the naming and story of the celebrated first work.<\/p>\n Precious Metal<\/em> doesn\u2019t give a damn about sensible.<\/p>\n So yes, it\u2019s ironic that a book this centered on the power of memory is operating in a world where the memories of most of its 2025 readers won\u2019t hold up (mine sure doesn\u2019t!). And truth be told, I don\u2019t know that Precious Metal<\/em> holds up without its Little Bird<\/em> tethers; it certainly doesn\u2019t resonate as deeply as the first volume. Perhaps this a personal problem (and one that won\u2019t mean a thing in the long game where readers pick up these trades consecutively). I needed a little expository hand holding, and instead Poelgeest and Bertram chopped off my arm and replaced it with infinite pink eels.<\/p>\n Ultimately, though, if I didn\u2019t have any Little Bird<\/em> expectations, I\u2019d be sitting here raving about the best looking, most fascinatingly constructed sci-fi world I\u2019ve read in comics in 2025. Ian Bertram is mind-bogglingly good, uniquely gifted at hyper-detailed alien designs and ludicrously visceral action sequencing. Most comic artists would sketch out a monster-hunter wearing a suit entirely composed of pouches and Laffy Taffy and call it a very tiring day; Bertram spreads the spectacle across every one of the 60+ page 6 issues. There\u2019s such a rich depth to everything Bertram builds here with Poelgeest, it\u2019s impossible to imagine getting to November 2025 without thinking, \u201cDamn, I should probably reread Little Bird<\/em> and Precious Metal<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n One of the finer examples of comics as journalism, and an effective call-to-arms for acts of resistance in seemingly hopeless situations. Denali Sai Nalamalapu\u2019s Holler<\/em> (not to be understandably confused with Jeremy Massie\u2019s work of the same name released via Dark Horse late last year) digs into the ongoing activism opposing the Mountain Valley Pipeline project (300 miles of controversial gas pipe laid across West Virginia and Virginia). Through six interviews with individuals resisting the \u2018MVP,\u2019 Nalamalapu covers a full array of approaches to climate justice, but even more than that, showcases the power of people refusing to cede to intimidating forces moving against them.<\/p>\n Holler<\/em> is drawn simply and cleanly, generally settling on no more than 3 colors per page, emphasizing the conversations and acts of protest. Regardless of your investment in this particular project, Nalamalapu proves skilled at highlighting the humanity of each of these characters, and the destructive impact these profit-obsessed corporations and government agents have on their lives. Educational, inspiring, and all-around impressive.<\/p>\n Circa 2018 I had my mind blown by Al Ewing\u2019s work on You Are Deadpool<\/em>, the first time I ever \u201cplayed\u201d (and lost!) a comic. Since then, I\u2019ve thoroughly enjoyed the choose-your-own-path work of Jason Shiga (Meanwhile, Adventure Comics<\/em>), and have enjoyed the likes of Rogue Sun<\/em> and Kieron Gillen and Jamie McKelvie\u2019s Batman: Black and White<\/em> story playing with a similar approach. Marie Enger\u2019s Death to the Wizard Kings<\/em> takes the idea a step farther with a part comic, part TTRPG, in which you roll a dice to create and develop your Vat Spawn character\u2019s abilities and traits as you navigate the D&D landscape of Enger\u2019s exuberant black-and-white designs.<\/p>\n There are two crucial details you should know about Death to the Wizard Kings<\/em>: 1) It is EXTREMELY fun and 2) Enger\u2019s cartooning is excellent, like somebody commissioned a young Mike Mignola to make a zine for Hello From the Magic Tavern<\/em>. Technically the work was released in 2024, but I bought and read it in 2025, so what is time when you think about it, you know?<\/p>\n In the supreme parallel universe where queer relationships are accepted and celebrated for all that they are, I Hated You In High School<\/em> would make perfect romcom material, like an A24-elevated Hallmark movie. Kathleen Gros is exceptionally gifted at selling the expressions and body language of the 20-somethings in this narrative, filling every conversation with heart, humor and authenticity. The graphic novel about a struggling cartoonist visiting home and confronting her high school nemesis is so lived-in that I just assumed we were dealing with autobiography until it occurred to me to actually check (unlike Queen\u2019s Gambit<\/em>, this did not turn my world upside down when I realized it was (mostly) fiction!).<\/p>\n Even some of my comics pet peeves \u2013 the dreaded extended flashback sequence! \u2013 are buoyed with smart interjections that keep the work light on its feet (Tessa\u2019s bestie hitting her up with a \u201cBUDDY\u201d after a particularly revealing high school diary story). It only takes one look at the cover of Tessa and Olive standing next to each other blushing (comic\u2019s universal signifier for CRUSHING) to know where this is going, which honestly leaves me more in awe of Gros\u2019 execution. The journey of Olive and Tessa coming to terms with their feelings, and with teenage bullying is engrossing all the way through, setting the stage for an incredibly sweet romance. Somehow Gros even finds time to bake in a subplot about Toronto\u2019s creeping gentrification. Excellent work all around.<\/p>\n What a delight. I wasn\u2019t quite sure what to expect from Derek Charm\u2019s three-issue teen-comedy, but Charm puts those Jughead<\/em> and Unbeatable Squirrel Girl<\/em> lessons together to form one of the funniest, sweetest YA graphic novels of the year. Toxic Summer<\/em> is the story of two queer teen friends who plot for a summer lifeguarding horny beach hunks (a kid can dream!), but wind up embroiled in a small coastal town overwhelmed with mysterious, supernatural toxic sludge. It\u2019s a classic teen-summer misadventure with a good ol\u2019 Comics^TM twist.<\/p>\n Charm\u2019s characters are shockingly well developed given the space, clearly building genuine laugh-out-loud moments and budding romance in the span of a mere 100+ pages. Honestly, the slice-of-life portrayal of 6 teens stranded in this dead, beachless town is compelling enough that Charm doesn\u2019t really need the Black Lagoon<\/em> meets Clayface monsters that drive an overly familiar plot. Charm\u2019s swirling dark neon greens are a thrill to look at, but the moments Toxic Summer<\/em> lost me are some needless and trope-y moments of exposition (although even here, Charm sneaks in humor from his, well, charming cast). All of which is to say, I\u2019d love to just hang with these characters for a summer. Bring on volume two, perverted hunks, and \u201csome\u201d sharks!<\/p>\n I\u2019d never read the work of Noah Van Sciver before, admittedly due to the poisonous association of his brother Ethan (it\u2019d be like finding out Van Jones was the brother of Alex Jones\u2026 ok, that\u2019d be *slightly<\/strong>* more surprising and toxic). As far as I can tell, though, Noah is very much his own person, with an Ignatz award winning resume of R. Crumb inspired Comix, and the enthusiastic backing of the Fantagraphics cartoonist machine. And whatever he thinks of his monstrous bro, Beat It, Rufus<\/em> is among the best graphic novels of 2025.<\/p>\n Aging dirtbag rockers are catnip for me (what\u2019s up School of Rock<\/em>), and Van Sciver\u2019s Rufus ranks among the sleeziest of them. Better yet, Rufus is an also-ran, still clinging to an almost-made-it moment from decades ago that ended when his two bandmates (apparently) died on the tour jet (that they paid for themselves!). What follows is an immaculate journey into the descent of this oddly charming loser, barely a guitar to his name, and what happens when he finally starts to reconnect from the players who saw the worst of him in that past life. It\u2019s an extremely funny imagining of a particular type of glory-days-dude, with Van Sciver happy to lean into the nastiness of both visual and attitude (Rufus discovering he just might be allergic to cats is a particularly humorous gross-out sequence). If you find yourself thinking \u201cI haven\u2019t watched Spinal Tap<\/em> in a while\u201d a few times a year, Beat It, Rufus<\/em> is a must.<\/p>\n Catch up on all CBH\u2019s favorite graphic novels of 2025 right here<\/a>!<\/p>\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/www.comicbookherald.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/05\/8118j3xIxFL._SL1500_-200x300.jpg\")
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