Walked into a small manga shop in Portland last week and noticed something cool

Honestly, I went to this little place called Floating World Comics downtown. It's not one of those big chain stores, just a narrow shop with creaky floors. What caught my eye was a shelf near the back labeled 'Staff Picks Since 2012' with handwritten notes still pinned up from years ago. One card talked about a series called 'Blame!' and said it changed how they saw sci-fi. I stood there for maybe ten minutes reading through old reviews and spotting which books people kept recommending. It felt like a time capsule of real opinions, not just algorithms pushing what's popular. Has anyone else stumbled on a shop that has those old handwritten staff cards?

3 comments

3 Comments

veramiller2mo ago

My friend Jen was in Philly last year and wandered into this dusty shop called The Comic Book Clubhouse. They had a whole wall of handwritten staff reviews from the 90s, with some cards yellowed and curling at the edges. One review for "Akira" was written in ballpoint pen and said "this will melt your brain in the best way." She said it was like stepping into someone's personal diary of what they loved. Kind of makes you realize how much we miss with just scrolling Amazon ratings.

karen_hart2mo ago

@veramiller "This will melt your brain" hits different than any Amazon review.

harper_wright27d ago

Actually, there's something deeper going on with those handwritten cards that nobody's mentioning. They're essentially dead media in an age of digital everything, right? But here's the twist: those cards preserve a specific moment in time when someone sat down with actual paper and a pen and formulated their thoughts about a comic. No retweets, no edits, no deleted comments. You're reading the exact words they wrote, with their handwriting quirks (like how some people dot their i's with circles or write in all caps) and maybe even a coffee ring stain from 2012. Compare that to an Amazon review that could be edited, drowned out, or even gamed by bots. The physical permanence of it makes it feel more honest somehow, like a promise that can't be taken back.