In Alan Moore Spells it Out, interviewer Bill Baker and Moore embark upon a wide-ranging discussion of creativity, comics, and much more. The slender volume (80 pages) features a few black and white illustrations but is essentially just a question and answer session with Moore, inarguably one of the most intriguing figures in the comic book industry over the past quarter-century.

From the opening discussion about the power of words, in which Moore discusses language as "the primal technology," to his suggestion that writers ought to write song lyrics just to see how "your mind does different things when you're writing a song," to his initial horror at abandoning thought balloons for Vendetta, there are a host of incisive, insightful observations to be found. While the book's format sticks to the basic Q&A motif that can quickly become a bit dull, by and large Moore's stream of consciousness discussion is worth the price of admission.

Requiem for New Orleans

Mike Sharpe, author of Thou Shalt Not Kill Unless Otherwise Instructed, returns with Requiem for New Orleans, a new book of poetry which tracks the destruction of the city. As he writes, "New Orleans was not destroyed by a hurricane but by abandonment."

Some may find poems such "Katrina," in which Sharpe speaks to the President of the United States about "the rotting corpses and the living dead," to lack poetic subtlety, while others may find additional meaning in its open veins of emotion. Regardless, the volume's lasting power may well be found in poems such as "New Orleans, Where Do You Come From," which drives home the enduring diversity of this tempestuous city (and which reminds one, if only imperfectly, of Carl Sandburg's "Chicago"):

I come from the Mississippi. I come from barges and ships. I come from cargo. Grain, cotton, oil, tobacco. Timber and steel. I come from revelers and gamblers and crooks. From whores and pirates and slaves. I come from corruption and sin and graft. I come from musicians, artists, writers, longshoremen, sailors, and oilmen. Lawyers and clergymen too. Bartenders, hotel keepers, and restaurateurs. From women working all kinds of places behind the scenes. I come from the upscale and the lowdown. I come from master man and slave woman. I am Mardi Gras parades. And blues. I am jazz.

With a mixture of angst and anger reflected in its poetry, snippets of song, sound bites and Biblical allusions, Requiem for New Orleans is both a raw meditation and a hunt for meaning in the midst of catastrophic tragedy.

Outbound Flight

The overwhelming majority of the Star Wars books out there, much like those published in connection with the various incarnations of Star Trek or other such collections, are usually quickly cobbled together and rarely very good. Timothy Zahn's Outbound Flight is that rare exception: a Star Wars book that can actually be enjoyed by someone who doesn't look forward to spending their nights and weekends dressed up as C3P0.