HAPPY PRIDE MONTH!🏳️‍🌈

SO HERE’S the thing: queer characters existed in comic book form long before mainstream superhero books finally caught up. Unambiguous LGBTQ+ representation in comics predates both Flash villain-turned-ally Hartley Rathaway’s (The Pied Piper) declaration of his homosexuality in DC Comics’ The Flash Vol. 2 #53 (Aug 1991) and fellow Canadian Jean-Paul Beaubier’s (Northstar) coming out in Marvel Comics’ Alpha Flight Vol. 1 #106 (Mar 1992).

There was some overt stereotyping of earlier superhero/villain characters to hint that they were queer, such as the flamboyant DC character, Extraño (Gregorio de la Vega), with his stereotypically gay mannerisms and sass, who first appeared in Millennium #2 (Jan 1988). And then there’s Marvel’s Mystique and Destiny, who, in 1980s X-Men comics, were shown to live together, raised a child together (Rogue, from her early teens), and display a level of emotional intimacy that many readers, myself included, interpreted as romantic. However, confirmation of this relationship would not come for decades.

In the mid-20th century, explicit queer representation was largely prohibited in mainstream American comics because of the Comics Code Authority, which discouraged or banned depictions of homosexuality. As a result, queer readers often found meaning in subtext—characters who felt different, concealed parts of themselves, or struggled to belong, like the mutant X-Men. Superheroes in particular resonated with many LGBTQ+ readers because of themes of dual identities, secrecy, and self-acceptance.

As censorship loosened in the 1990s, creators began introducing LGBTQ+ characters openly. Today, queer characters can be found across major publishers, including Marvel and DC. Characters such as Northstar, Batwoman, Shatterstar, Apollo, Midnighter, Nubia, Wiccan, and Hulkling have become important symbols of queer visibility. Even Superman and Batman have queer sons, in Jon Kent and Tim Drake, both of whom declared their bisexuality a few years back.

Beyond representation, comics have also served as a medium of queer expression. Independent and underground comics have explored LGBTQ+ themes long before mainstream publishers were willing to do so. Artists used the format to tell personal stories about coming out, relationships, discrimination, joy, and community—queer experiences that were overlooked in traditional media.

None did it better than GAY COMIX, later renamed GAY COMICS, a deliciously transgressive series I discovered long after it had ceased publication.

Several years ago, I found six issues of this series in the clearance section of one of my local comic stores. To say I was shocked that such a series even existed would be an understatement. Of course, I immediately grabbed them. The second time I discovered them “in the wild” was at another local comic book store that had purchased someone’s personal collection. When I found four issues during my bin-diving, I “gay gasped.” I would have loved to know who the original collector was.

Gay Comics, titled Gay Comix for the first 14 issues, was an underground series published from 1980 to 1998 by Kitchen Sink Press (1980–1984) and by Bob Ross (1985-1998), publisher of the Bay Area Reporter gay newspaper. And no, not the painter.

The idea for Gay Comix originated with Denis Kitchen, founder of Kitchen Sink Press and one of the key publishers of underground comics. In 1979, after learning that underground cartoonist Howard Cruse was gay, Kitchen approached him with an idea: edit an anthology showcasing the work of LGBTQ+ comic creators. The two were already familiar with each other’s work. Cruse’s long-running comic Barefootz had been published by Kitchen Sink Press, making him a natural choice to spearhead the project.

To find contributors, a call for submissions was published in Cascade Comix Monthly, inviting gay and lesbian cartoonists to share their stories. While the anthology focuses largely on gay and lesbian experiences, it does include stories featuring bisexual and transgender themes as well, though the terminology used in some of those comics is unsurprisingly dated.

One of the greatest strengths of Gay Comix/cs was the remarkable range of queer artists and writers who contributed to the series over its nearly two-decade run. Aside from Cruse, the anthology featured work by pioneering LGBTQ+ cartoonists such as Robert Triptow, Jennifer Camper, Andy Mangels, Ivan Velez Jr., Roberta Gregory, Alison Bechdel, Mary Wings, Marc Lynx, and Rupert Kinnard, among many others.

Sadly, there are only 25 issues in this groundbreaking series, spanning its eighteen-year run. And though much of the early content is autobiographical, later editions explored a broader, more diverse range of queer themes and narratives. A few issues of the series contained superhero-themed stories, which were generally humour-driven. The content of Gay Comix/cs primarily focused on depicting gay relationships, personal experiences, and humour rather than being centred around sexual content. This was something Cruse was adamant about. Aware that gay people were frequently portrayed as caricatures in popular culture, defined solely by who they had sex with, Cruse sought to publish comics that highlighted the humanity, diversity, and everyday experiences of queer people.

That said, there are definitely sexually charged narratives and images to be found in the series. Not every issue will appeal to every reader. Stories touch on subjects that readers may find challenging, uncomfortable, or particularly meaningful, including homophobia, polyamory and monogamy, infidelity, gender expression, and the use of, as I mentioned earlier, now-dated terminology. There truly is something in this series for every queer person—whether to relate to, discover, or be offended by. That’s simply the reality of a collection this diverse. And I’ve experienced all three of those reactions myself, reading these comics.

While I have many favourite issues, I want to shine a spotlight on Gay Comix #11 (Dec 1987) and Gay Comics #25 (April 1998), the final issue of the series.

Issue #11 features a cover by writer and artist Robert Triptow, whose work in the 1980s and 1990s helped shape early visibility for queer narratives in sequential art. Triptow became involved with Gay Comix/cs early in its run, first contributing with issue #2. Over time, he took on a more central editorial role, succeeding Howard Cruse as editor and overseeing issues #5 through #13 between 1984 and 1991. During this period, the series continued to evolve as a key platform for queer cartoonists, balancing personal storytelling, political commentary, and experimental comic forms.

Beyond his editorial work on the series, Triptow also edited the 1989 anthology Gay Comics, which is often cited as one of the earliest efforts to document queer life through cartooning and comics history. The anthology was recognized with the first Lambda Literary Award for Humour, marking an important moment in the formal acknowledgement of LGBTQ+ contributions to literature and comics.

Earlier in his career, Triptow worked as assistant to publisher David B. Goodstein at The Advocate, placing him close to significant developments in gay media and activism during a pivotal era. In that context, he was indirectly connected to the historical period surrounding gay rights leader Harvey Milk, whose legacy became emblematic of the broader struggle for LGBTQ+ rights. In later years, Triptow expressed interest in reviving Gay Comix/cs as a series of trade paperback collections under a new publisher. In 2009 and again in 2013, he described plans to reintroduce the material as a platform for queer cartoonists, though those plans have not yet resulted in a published relaunch.

Today, Gay Comix/cs #11 is often viewed within the broader context of the series’ editorial evolution under Triptow’s stewardship—an era defined by expanding representation, archival intent, and the gradual shaping of a queer comics tradition that continues to influence creators today.

Now, on to issue #25 with cover art by the amazingly talented Craig Hamilton. And on the cover is a little cheeky gay play on Batman and Robin, or perhaps the Kryptonian heroes Nightwing and Flamebird. Either way, I’m into it.

There are two interesting elements surrounding this last issue I want to touch on. First, in the story “Clone Ranger” by Howard Stangroom, a gay Rawhide Kid makes a brief appearance (like one panel!). Now, the blond-haired Rawhide Kid first appeared in 1955 in his self-titled book from Atlas Comics. However, the version most people know is the revamped red-headed hottie who debuted in Marvel Comics’ Rawhide Kid #17 (Aug 1960), a continuation of Atlas’ numbering.

Marvel’s Rawhide Kid was updated from his Silver Age Western comics and later Bronze/Modern Age Avengers appearances, redesigning him as a gay character in the Wild West for a new-millennium audience.

In a 2003 miniseries that featured art and innuendo akin to this one-page story here in Gay Comics, he subsequently “came out.” Now, despite the beefcake, highly phallic, and suggestive 1st issue cover, the queerness in that Marvel miniseries was anything but overt. Nice try. Still, it’s a great “fun-fact.”

Let’s take a look at a vastly more poignant feature from issue #25. I want to highlight the story “That Was Then, This Is Now… a story of a future without AIDS” by Marc Lynx, which is dedicated to comic book editor, art director, and writer Neal Pozner. Neal was one of the few out gay comic creators at the time, who passed away due to AIDS in 1994 at the age of 39. Before joining DC Comics’ staff, Pozner designed the first gay-themed bus ads for New York City as well as several posters for Lincoln Center. He was also responsible for incorporating DC Comics characters into a series of AIDS awareness house ads published in the company’s comics. He was a truly amazing talent and man.

Lynx’s story is a continuation of one from issue #24, and was billed as “to be continued,” but since this was the last issue of Gay Comics, the next instalment was unfortunately never released.

The comic book art form and queer culture both recognize the power of imagination. They’ve created spaces for individuals who feel different, who question dominant social norms, and who celebrate the idea that identity can be discovered, embraced, and expressed proudly rather than concealed.

Though I don’t currently have the entire 25-issue run of Gay Comix/cs in my collection, I remain undeterred in my goal of completing it. And I’m pretty close! While I didn’t feature all 25 covers, I hope this post inspires you all to explore the series for yourself. And I would also highly recommend taking a look at the life of Howard Cruse, who passed away in 2019 at the age of 75. To call him a pioneer of gay rights and queer comics is no exaggeration.