It occurs to me

that I have no more books on their way to me. Which is good. I've got quite enough to deal with as it is. But there's always that nagging hunger, the collector's blight: checking out eBay, browsing AbeBooks, maybe going for a wander round the Lewes bookshops. Surely, the craving calls, there must be something to buy.

Well there is. Comics! (Er, and presents for other people too, of course, what with it being nearly Christmas. But that's not as much fun as buying stuff for yourself.) Let's take a look at what's on my list this week, shall we?

Invincible Iron Man #21. Wait, didn't the last issue only come out two weeks ago? Hurm. And come to think of it, didn't I ask the exact same question about this exact same comic a month or so ago? Hurm. Well anyway, Matt Fraction and Salvador Larocca continue to keep me interested in this. And in this current climate of culling comics, keeping me interested is enough.

New Avengers Annual #3. My passion for New Avengers has waned slightly (as has my passion for comics in general), but not enough to give up on it. It's still pretty smart, and pretty pretty. Apparently this Annual is about Clint Barton, who was banged up by Norman Osborn and has since been forgotten about. I don't really care what's happened to him to be honest, but I'll probably buy it anyway.

Punishermax #2. First issue of this wasn't too bad. I figure give it another issue. But always at the back of my head there's that nagging voice. No, not the nagging collector one; the other one. The one that whispers, "It's never gonna be as good as Garth Ennis's Punisher Max. Jason Aaron ain't no Garth Ennis. And that was then. That was the comics-passionate you. This is now." Shush, voice. One more issue. Then we'll see.

Unwritten #8. Still liking this. Still buying it. Sure, it's not Lucifer, but then what is? And I've just dropped Mike Carey's X-Men, so the least I can do is continue supporting Unwritten.

Walking Dead #68. For me, this has now turned into Chuck. Not in the sense that it's anything like Chuck; it's not. More in the sense that Chuck is the kind of genre show I'll happily watch every week, without feeling any great passion (there's that word again) for. It's like, for a while this year, on Tuesdays, Sky, Virgin and the Sci-Fi Channel were showing Stargate Universe, Chuck and Dollhouse one after the other. It was Sci-Fi Tuesday: a sci-fi sandwich, with Chuck in the middle. Except it was the bread – Stargate Universe and Dollhouse – that was really tasty, and the filling – Chuck – that was merely a perfectly adequate undefined 'meat'. And Walking Dead is kind of like that. Except, it being zombies, the meat's a bit off.

I think we'll leave that one there.