Bishakh's Som's graphic memoir, Spellbound, serves as a reminder that trans memoirs need not hinge on transition narratives, or at least not on the ones we are used to seeing.
There's something perversely entertaining for a memoir about the career of its successful author to stay so relentlessly focused on failures as Tomine.
The sensitively depicted graphic memoir I Know You Rider is the story of an abortion, but more than that it's a moment in time in Leslie Stein's life.
Tomine's talent in communicating the intimate, minute details of his life only serve to make them universal, even moreso in these times of COVID-19. The Loneliness of the Long-Distance Cartoonist is his isolationist memoir.
The title of Lisa Wool-Rim Sjöblom's graphic memoir, Palimpsest, is an excellent metaphor for adoption generally and especially the literally erased and rewritten documents that define many Korean adoptions. But it is also a visual metaphor.
The differences between Sylvia Nickerson's realistically-depicted homeless and the blob-like privileged establishes Creation's central dichotomy and critique.
De Jongh constructs a jigsaw puzzle of personalities, life experiences, and national identities, where even contrasts ultimately reveal connections in her graphic memoir, Taxi!
Picking up where Chlorine Gardens left off, Keiler Roberts' graphic memoir, Rat Time, wanders artfully and unannounced into memories.
In graphic memoir They Called Us Enemy, iconic Star Trek star George Takei draws from his family's experience of Japanese-American internment camps to warn of a potentially dark future.