ICYMI: The Soft and Creeping Horror of Good Deeds #1

A great horror story is hard to come by but easy to identify. Often, the best kinds are ones where the horror accentuates character-driven motivations and themes that still work even if you get the horror out completely. Without the clown, Stephen King’s It would still function thematically as a rich coming-of-age story. A failing horror tale prioritizes the sensationalism of its ‘horror’ over the character’s suffering. Good Deeds #1 is an excellent, slow, and methodical beginning to a horror series rooted in the supernatural, so much so that it might prioritize its character building a little too heavily, but that’s more of a substance choice than a structural one.

Our story follows two different character narratives that intertwine by issue end. The first follows a struggling author by the name of Jean, who seems psychologically haunted by the mistakes of her past. After receiving a chance to get her name back into the journalist sphere, she takes a puff piece assignment to go down to the town of St. Augustine to cover their 450th-anniversary celebration.

At the same time, mother-daughter duo Rebecca and Cheyenne Rite find themselves trying to start a new life in St. Augustine, purchasing and fixing up an old run-down diner. With Cheyenne starting school and the odd happenings within the town, it’s a time of stress for all of our main characters. This slow-building stress and supernatural hints culminate with a shocking cliffhanger at the issue’s end, one well-earned, dark, and tastefully done.

The writing in this issue is immaculate. Che Grayson is an extremely talented comic book scripter, managing to do this one issue that some professionals take years to nail down. The book is paced excellently, utilizing the paneling layouts and medium stylings to its full advantage to end the first issue with a group of well-established and rounded characters whilst also balancing out the establishment of tone, supernatural elements, world-building, and plotting all in one the first jump.

Their dialogue writing is superb, knowing exactly when to allow the art to speak for itself and when the dialogue is needed to convey plot-related information. Outside of the main characters, who are all very likable, Grayson does a great job utilizing side and background characters to help grow out the rest of the book’s facets. Some are used to build a gross and subtle tension, as seen in the books ending through the line with Mr. Foster, while others are there to fill out the world.

The plot does unravel slowly, but it’s a necessary slowness. The book depends on the characters driving the narrative. As such, the plot follows their daily lives and decisions more so than the interest of whatever supernatural horror awaits them in the corners of this story.

Kelsey Ramsay’s art is rough and somewhat sketchy, which does wonders for the book’s tone and atmosphere. It’s constantly connected and expressive but is rigid when it needs to be to keep the book from becoming tonally disconnected from the story at hand. Ronda Pattinson’s coloring also adds a fair amount to the issue, pairing nicely with the pencils to create a visual reading experience that’s constantly engaging.