Panels, Plots, and Nostalgia: How Comics Pulled Me Back In
Rediscovering comfort back in Riverdale.
As a kid, I adored Archie Comics. Whenever my grandparents came down from Indiana to Tennessee, my Papaw would bring us a big stack of them—dog-eared treasures filled with Betty, Veronica, Jughead, and of course, that charming redhead Archie himself. Later, he began adding Calvin and Hobbes to the pile, and a whole new world of reading opened up.
My mom even recognized some of the Archie issues from her own childhood and would sit down to read them with me. But mostly, it was me sprawled across the bed, watching Betty and Veronica compete for Archie’s attention while he got himself into yet another scrape with Jughead or competition with Reggie. Those pages were my comfort zone—my first love affair with visual storytelling.
Life eventually got in the way, and comic books were set aside for serious reading. Still, the joy never really left. I devoured every Calvin and Hobbes collection I could find and even managed to scan them onto my Kindle during my college years. There was something deeply soothing about revisiting Calvin’s mischievous adventures with his tiger companion, Hobbes, as the bus rumbled along. It was my portable slice of childhood nostalgia.
A few years ago, I joined Amazon’s Comixology so I could revisit Archie Comics without the steep cost of individual issues. (At an average of eight dollars a pop, it’s easy for a “just one more” habit to get out of hand!) Comixology made it possible to indulge my nerdy side again—because, let’s face it, reading comics was definitely considered nerdy when I was growing up in the 90s – back before being a nerd became cool.
Archie Comics
Cover by Dan Parent, Rich Koslowski, and Rosario “Tito” Peña
For a while, I dipped in and out of Riverdale, reading an issue here and there, laughing at Jughead’s appetite, and admiring Veronica’s wardrobe. But, as it so often does, life got busy again. Then, just last month, I decided to give it another go.
Calvin & Hobbes
art by Bill Watterson
That’s when I finally treated myself to the Kindle Colorsoft—something I’d been eyeing since it first came out. I’d wanted an e-reader that could do justice to the rich colors of comic art, and this one truly does. Reading on a black-and-white screen was fine for novels, but seeing those panels burst back to life feels downright magical. Betty and Veronica’s stylish outfits gleam again, and Archie’s familiar ginger hair shines with that same boyish charm I remember from childhood.
Of course, it’s not quite the same as holding a glossy comic book in my hands, but it’s close enough—and far kinder on the wallet. In this economy, that matters. Still, what I love most is that it’s helped me step away from my phone for a while. Instead of falling into the endless scroll, I find myself turning digital pages, lost in Riverdale once more.
Before this, I’d been reading through the Kindle app on my phone, squinting at the tiny screen and constantly getting distracted by notifications. I didn’t want a full-sized tablet either—it felt too much like another device for productivity, not pleasure. The ColorSoft sits in that perfect in-between space: just big enough to see every line of art, just simple enough to keep me fully present in the story.
(This isn’t meant to be a promotion for Amazon’s devices or subscriptions - this is just what I use and what has worked best for me.)
Not all of the comics I’m reading are the same ones I grew up with. The gang at Riverdale High now uses cell phones and chats about social media. At first, that was a little jarring. But I’ve come to appreciate how the stories have adapted while keeping their heart. In a culture where entertainment is forgotten the second something new flashes across the screen, Archie has managed to stay relevant and fun.
Lately, I’ve especially loved diving into the Halloween issues—there’s something so cozy about a slightly spooky comic at this time of year. I’ve even been revisiting Sabrina the Teenage Witch, who is still as delightful as ever, full of charm and mischief.
Reading comics again has reminded me that joy doesn’t have to be complicated. Whether it’s Archie navigating high-school drama or Calvin exploring imaginary worlds with Hobbes, these stories feel like coming home. In a world that’s felt a little heavy since 2020, that sense of comfort—of curling up with colorful panels and familiar faces—means more than ever.
So here I am, back in Riverdale or the forests of Midwest, suburban America with Calvin and Hobbies, coffee in hand, smiling at the antics of characters I’ve loved since childhood. The art may be digital now, the ink pixels instead of print, but the feeling? That’s timeless.
Author’s Note
I think that’s what I love most about returning to comics—the reminder that stories don’t have to be long or literary to move us. They can be silly, colorful, or even just a few frames long and still tug at something deep inside. Comics taught me early on that storytelling lives in moments—in the tilt of an eyebrow, a punchline, or the quiet space between panels where the reader fills in the blanks.
Maybe that’s why I write: to chase that same spark of imagination, to bridge words and images in the mind. Comics helped me fall in love with pacing, dialogue, and the rhythm of a story’s heartbeat. Coming back to them now feels like revisiting the root system of my creativity—one inked page at a time.
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Join me next week when I revisit other comics like Blondie, Andy Capp, and The Wizard of Id, among others.
