Riot Roundup: The Best Comics We Read January–June 2022

There is a particular type of graphic novel that just shoots a rainbow of delight straight into your heart–think Check, Please; Heartstopper– that I absolutely adore. And Cheer Up is another entry in that “genre”. It has found family, friends to enemies to lovers, opposites attract between an overachiever and an anti-social grump, and two teen girl leads you’ll want to ferociously protect (although one may bite you in the process), befriend, and love. 

—Jamie Canavés

Such a little book and it hits so hard! Walden’s short graphic novel is just 56 pages long, but in its vivid black-and-white, it tells a story of growing up, of discovering contentment, of a life well-lived, of carving out space for yourself and a life you fit into. There’s so much heart in these illustrations. It’s relatable and hopeful, and filled my heart right up.

—Leah Rachel von Essen

I read this graphic novel while researching Patricia Highsmith’s obsession with snails, and although it didn’t cover much that I wasn’t already aware of, it covered it in an exciting and vibrant way that I found utterly delightful. From the introduction, it is clear that their intention is to tell a story about a complicated woman; Ellis writes in the author’s note: “The protagonist of this story is not a good person. In fact, Patricia Highsmith was an appalling person.” This context allows the reader to appreciate the story more fully, to understand that it is, well, complicated. The book covers the time before Pat’s first novel, Strangers on a Train, was published, when she was working as a comics writer, hating every minute of it, and trying very hard to stop being a lesbian (also hating every minute of it, except the ones when she went ahead and was a lesbian anyway). The book shows a version of the events that culminated in Pat writing The Price of Salt, or, Carol, and the beautiful illustrations guarantee that I will eventually own this one in hard copy. That said, I was delighted by the ebook I borrowed from my library.

—Annika Barranti Klein

I snagged a copy of the stunning conclusion to Hari Conner’s magical, slow-burn queer romance by backing their Kickstarter. Unfortunately for you, the hard copy isn’t available anymore, and you’ll have to wait for the webcomic to finish releasing sometime next year. Happily for you, it is worth the wait. Is it ever worth the wait. Janek is a human chef slowly making his way home after a long time away; Chepi is a fae healer doing research on the road. They meet, begin traveling together, and slowly—so slowly—fall in love. There is nothing I don’t love about this book. It is honest and tender and so, so gentle. The art is pure magic. The characters work their way through so much trauma as they learn to trust each other, and getting to witness that journey is nothing short of miraculous. I can honestly say only one other comic I’ve ever read that matches the depth and beauty of this one: Saga. Finding Home is something special. Don’t wait on it.

–Laura Sackton

Sometimes you just need comfort food! And that’s exactly what I got with Alice Oseman’s Heartstopper series, which I devoured over a few days. These sweet books are a celebration of love. It’s impossible not to feel your heart melt as you tear through this love story with great supporting characters and thoughtful queer representation. If you’re feeling down and want to be cheered up, this is the series for you.

 —Sarah S. Davis

This is a fantastic memoir about growing up as a queer Wuhanese American in Texas. Laura begins her life in Wuhan, surrounded by a large family and especially befriending two cousins close to her age. But at 4, her parents immigrate to Texas, and her life dramatically changes. Laura Americanizes her name at school to fit in better with her Texas classmates. She internalizes Asian stereotypes at her primarily white schools and brings that internalized racism with her to college, where other Asian American students confront her about them. As a result, Laura has an identity crisis concerning both her Wuhanese heritage and her sexuality. It’s a nuanced, vibrant memoir, covering lots of ground in less than 300 pages.

—Margaret Kingsbury

Riley Mayes isn’t a fan of fifth grade. None of her classmates get her sense of humor, and she’d much rather be drawing than sitting in class. When Riley makes a couple of new friends, she learns how nice it is to be around people who appreciate the weird and wonderful things that make up the real Riley Mayes. I absolutely loved all of the authenticity and heart in this middle grade graphic novel, and I adored seeing a queer kid in Oklahoma explore her identity and unique self. This book is a treat from beginning to end!

—Susie Dumond