Comics in America used to have the stigma that they were for little kids, and arguably still do have that image for a lot of people despite all the mainstreaming of “geek culture” in recent years. This was, after all, why Frederick Wertham’s witch hunt in the 1950s gained so much traction; the idea that our innocent and unsuspecting youths were being corrupted by wicked and explicit material marketed directly to them. It didn’t seem like the idea of comics having and appealing to an adult audience ever dented that narrative, and the resulting uproar led to the creative straightjacket of the Comics Code Authority where the major companies self-censored and severely limited the sorts of stories they could tell.

Did that make all the comics stories of the Silver Age bad? Not really, any more than someone could claim (with a straight face) that the grim n’ gritty era of the 1990s made for universally higher quality storytelling. In fact it’s quite arguable that the pendulum swung too far in the other direction, where the industry decided comics were not, in fact, for kids, and the stores and marketing campaigns were in some cases actively hostile to the notion.

So anyhow, this brings us to our current times and the concept of the “all ages” book. Technically speaking you could see this as just another way to say it’s for kids, and some of them really are geared towards very young folks, with minimized possibility of content that might be offensive to their guardians and, shall we say, uncomplicated story concepts. But others are more along the lines of what you might see out of the better Pixar movies, where adults and children can both find equally appealing aspects to enjoy and the storytelling may actually be quite complex in its themes. There might even be subtle naughty bits, which to my knowledge the small children watching have not imploded from.

I might be biased. My uncle took me to see Airplane! during its original theatrical release in 1980, when I was still a rather wee lad. I didn’t get a lot of the parts the adults around me were laughing at, but it didn’t matter since there was plenty of other stuff I got just fine. Still, I recognize and respect that not everyone’s comfortable with exposing their tots to that “white zone shit.” When parents have occasionally stopped by our table to ask if Zombie Ranch is all right for kids, I answer honestly that it’s not meant as an all-ages offering, and while there is no sex or nudity in its pages, there are instances of blood, swearing, and the proverbial “intense situations.” When asked on listing sites, I classify this website as PG-13. Young kids are not really on my mind as the demographic.

So imagine my surprise when a few months ago we gifted my sister a copy of our trade paperback collection and later heard that our seven year old niece was very jealous and had (with her mom’s blessing) grabbed it the first chance she got and read it cover to cover. She’s a smart kid but loves her some Disney Princesses and Barbie, not really what you’d think of as your Fangoria type — and hey don’t laugh, Dawn was just that type at a tender young age thanks to her older brother. Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for little girls (or boys) who don’t find a love of Fangoria and Barbie mutually exclusive, but I couldn’t help thinking my sister might be exaggerating things for our benefit.

Nah. At the top of my niece’s Christmas list this year was her own copy of the TPB, and I watched as she squealed in undisguised delight when she tore open the wrapping paper to find it signed personally to her by Uncle Clint and Auntie Dawn. Yesterday she was asking questions about why Muriel ended up getting so mad, and confiding in me that she was really sad when Popcorn got hurt, but happy again when she heard he was going to be okay. She declared Popcorn and Suzie were definitely her favorite characters, along with (zombified) Zeke as she imitated how she imagined he moaned and groaned. It was all exceedingly adorable.

And gratifying. Here we’d put together a story where I never really compromised on concepts or events towards  the consumption of a younger crowd. If we get right down to it I’ve actually always thought that to be a problematic way to write entertainment, because it so easily slides itself down to the mindset of “kids aren’t smart enough for this stuff.” I do believe kids are far smarter and more capable of nuanced understanding than we grownup folk often are willing to give them credit for, for instance I think the Harry Potter books–and prior to that, entries of “children’s literature” from authors like Mark Twain, Rudyard Kipling and Roald Dahl–are repeated proof that it’s a mistake to think of children as any stupider than adults. What they lack is experience, and in the case of someone lacking experience, isn’t it more laudable to seek to broaden their horizons than narrow them?

But hey, I have to admit that when it came right down to it, I wasn’t interested in marketing Zombie Ranch to kids, either. Not everyone feels the way I do, and perhaps in the course of things I had my own unease on whether or not a kid picking up the book would find it at all interesting, much less navigate potentially troublesome waters of parental limits. I didn’t want to be fingered as the guy whose book taught their kid to say “shit” or “goddamnit,” or made it so they couldn’t sleep at night, right?

Maybe that’s why my niece’s positive reaction was a surprise to me. Should it have been? Should I form any kind of new perspective based on the example of one girl? A girl who happens to be a relative and already was predisposed to be affectionate towards us and our work? Maybe, maybe not–but her enjoyment is undeniably flattering, and does make me think that maybe again, at the end of the day, “all ages” entertainment may be a label best determined by the eyes of the consumer, whatever age they might be.