8 Quietly Reflective Graphic Novels

Covering six seasons, beginning with “High Summer” and ending with “Spring,” this centers on an artist as she prepares for her first solo show at Gallery 6. Through breathtaking colors and fascinating details like beauty marks, wilting flowers, and reddened winter noses, it showcases amazing artwork that I imagine adding to my gallery wall and sparse, poetic prose that begs me to sit with it for a minute or more. One example: “Even clouds have to break down.” With a book dedication like “For those who feel all the feels,” this intimate examination of how different seasons affect creativity, relationships, anxiety, and more remains a go-to reread of mine, and I hope that you, too, fall in love with it.

Through vibrant illustrations, this tracks the progress of Guerrero High’s inaugural girls’ basketball team. The group of five includes Ren and Luna, who become instantly close one summer until a tragedy calls Luna back to Hawai‘i alongside Nell, Jetta, and So. The teenagers navigate abandonment, bullying, family, and teamwork in Los Angeles. In its opening, I admire how the solitary mornings of two strangers on a California beach (Ren playing basketball and Luna surfing — strangers for a smidge longer) blend into one another. In a sequence of images, Ren’s basketball looms milliseconds from sinking into the hoop; the net dissolves into Luna diving under a wave with her board, bubbles surround feet, then Luna ascends to surface for air. Pages later, they play one-on-one.

After her girlfriend breaks up with her, 26-year-old Asako Suga, a manga editor, daydreams of a parking spot and a room dedicated to her books, so she debates renting a house with a live-in landlord outside the city. The catch: the live-in landlord is ever-famous Miyako Kitano, the 19-year-old recently retired lead member of Elm, an “idol” group. Despite the stress of a work colleague’s and a grandmother’s opinions and pressures, Asako and Miyako stumble onto some peace in their newfound relationship and routines, which shines through. Exploring independence, fresh starts, fame, and bonding, the tender moments of shared meals, sofa shopping on the internet, and camping on the garden deck during daylight with iced coffees exude a loveliness.

Spanning from January 4th through Christmas Eve of 1981, this chronicles the days of a mother, actress, artist, and writer who cares for her 4-year-old son, Shōsuke, and her husband, Tsuge Yoshiharu, the well-known manga author. The diary entries first state the date and a concise weather description on the left page, and their corresponding black-and-white illustrations appear on the right. How this organized and dependable format pleases my Virgo heart. Meditating on domestic life, gender expectations, joy, and mental health issues, this — from mended pants and an unclogged drain to ballet lessons and celebratory meals — highlights the quotidian experiences that make up a life.

With the wanderlusty title pointing to the book’s essence, this delight of a graphic novel follows two longtime friends, Zoe and Dani. In their first year of college, they rendezvous in New York for Spring Break to tour Times Square to Coney Island, and Dani brings along Fiona, a fellow art student. With its black, lavender, peach, and white palette, the third title by the collaborative cousins unfolds in five days, and the sweetness and angst of this solidifies that I want to read anything and everything by this duo. I especially adored the inclusion of nearby conversations: a person talking on the phone in the airport, the museum commentary of fellow visitors. How occasionally tranquility allows other lives to seep in.

Featuring art in black, blue, and white, this begins in the woods with the opening sentence, “Things were best when Nessie was about six.” Aunties Bron and Ray gleefully spend Tuesdays and Saturdays with Ray’s young niece, Nessie, which adds an undeniable spark to their shared lives. After the two begin to drift apart, they take some space from their relationship to focus on and repair their strained familial ties. Delving into made-up songs and make-believe, gender identity and intimacy, and boundaries and vulnerability, the blues of this — the shades, the joy, and the sadness — linger long after reading.

You may recognize this artist’s work from the opening credits of Only Murders in the Building. Beautifully drawn, this surreal story begins with a crow locating the body of a missing architect. Eerie, yes. And the hauntingness continues. It weaves multiple stories: two women road-tripping through Arizona and people seeking the talents of someone able to communicate with spirits, among others. Teeming with stunning images, some personal favorites consist of the along-the-highway views: cacti standing tall in the desert, six birds flying high in front of two clouds, and bales of hay lined up and stacked against a barn. They emphasize that serene, gazing-out-the-car window vibe.