Let’s talk about a real dilemma in our field today: homelessness.  The good news is we’re seeing the publication of a more diverse and more numerous range of graphic novels than ever before in America, and arguably anywhere other than Japan.  The bad news is we’re barely seeing this, because the individual titles are racing past our eyes into a retail desert of homelessness with a speed that would make The Flash or Quicksilver feel like slowpokes.

When decent-size graphic novel sections first evolved, about 25 years ago, they were messy assortments of everything then-available.  A memorable moment in one executive’s job interview was when he pointed out to me that this was actually a good thing, showing how prospective buyers were examining the books faster than any planogram could organize them (hi, John).  But the truth is, at that time, the range of what was available was still pretty narrow: lots of super heroes and adventure titles, some very successful series from Vertigo, a few historical reprints, and a handful of more experimental projects every week.  We hadn’t seen the return of kids’ comics in graphic novel form, the emergence of a vibrant audience of women, the graphic memoir was in its adolescence…and manga hadn’t reached our shores.

Over the time since, graphic novel sections have grown in both traditional bookstores and comic shops, but have failed to keep up with the explosion of creativity between the covers, or the sheer number of titles.  Because of their different trim size, manga got segregated quickly, and many stores have figured out that having a kids’ graphic novel section is a good idea.  But the vast majority of new titles are displayed very briefly face out and then…then they’re homeless.

Oh, they get shelved.  There’s a roof over their head, sort of (at least another shelf), but for the most part, they’re spine-out, anonymous and neglected, lost in a sea of other orphans.  The ones that are brand-name characters are easy to find, and probably the ones by legendary creators, but the rest are lost in, at best, alphabetical hell.  You can Google-search the creators’ names or title as you search the shelves, but seriously, how often do we bother?

It’s not an easy situation to remedy.  No one in the comics community wants to close the door to the diverse flood, and few retailers have the time or ability to carefully evaluate each new title that emerges to judge its worth and devise an individual plan to best display and market it.  Publishers’ propaganda helps, but their resources are limited too, and many titles are published without a real coming out party.

Over time, we’ll see the evolution of real sections within the world of graphic novels, just as the fiction section gave birth to a science fiction and fantasy section in the late ‘70s and early ‘80s.  I’m not sure what those sections will be called, or what their creative boundaries will be, but I have confidence that as we continue the relentless march forward of graphic literature in America, we’ll see it happen.

But meanwhile, here’s a modest proposal: adopt a book.  If you’re reading ICv2, you likely have some influence in the comics community, either as a creator, retailer, publisher, or someone working in our wonderfully crazy ecosystem.  Pick a single graphic novel you really like every now and then, and adopt it.  Plug it on your social media, even if the only folks reading your Facebook page are real world friends and family.  Talk your local retailer into keeping it face out for a few weeks because it’s so good.  Nudge your librarian to order it.  Review it on Amazon (they only recommend books that get a certain number of good reviews).  If you’re a retailer, give it a good home—a decent plug on an index card and a face out spot on an end cap or by the register, perhaps?  Even tell your fellow retailers who you connect with that they should adopt it, too.

The most amazing thing is how much of a difference this can make.  The majority of graphic novels published today have very small print runs, many of just a few thousand copies.  Obviously advocacy by a major retailer or someone with great social media reach will do more, but even an effort that results in sales of a few hundred copies can make a big difference in the bottom line for the folks who created it, and encourage the publisher to support them on future projects.

One small project like this that I helped with this year was getting Humble Bundle to do an offering of the Eisner-nominated titles in several categories.  Not all publishers chose to include their titles, for a variety of reasons including some I could sympathize with, and by its nature Humble Bundle doesn’t deliver an enormous dollar return per included title to the publishers and talent…but over five thousand bundles were sold, placing that many copies of a wide range of worthy comics in peoples’ hands to read and, potentially, fall in love with.  For a lot of the titles included, that exceeded the number of copies they had initially sold.  Imagine what would happen if every comic shop or bookseller devoted space to a rack of this year’s Eisner nominees and winners?

I’m not saying that means I do enough to address homelessness in the graphic novel aisle, but I try to do what I can.  How about you?  Will you adopt a graphic novel today?

Paul Levitz has been active as a comic fan (The Comic Reader), editor (Batman), writer (Legion of Super-Heroes), executive (30 years at DC Comics, ending as President & Publisher), historian (75 Years of DC Comics: The Art of Modern Myth-Making), and educator.

The opinions expressed in this column are solely those of the writer, and do not necessarily reflect the views of the editorial staff of ICv2.com.