For his third release from Birdcage Bottom Books in under a year, Twin Cities cartoonist Lance Ward is once again going the autobio/memoir route, but taking more of a “long view” than he did with his tightly-focused graphic novel Blood And Drugs and it short companion/epilogue publication, The Truth Behind Blood And Drugs. Specifically, he’s going back to his childhood, beginning his ruminations at age 11 when he lived with his soon-to-splintered family in the soul-dead “exurb” of Forest Lake, Minnesota — a place that, trust me, anyone is lucky to make it out of in one piece, mentally speaking.

It’s debatable whether or not Ward managed to actually do that, of course, although he seems stable, amicable, and definitely on a creative “hot streak” in recent months, a fact for which we should all be grateful — but getting to “here” from “there” has been no easy task…

A curious and idiosyncratic exercise in collage that predates vaguely similar works by Samplerman by nearly two decades, Mark Liberte’s Explosive Comic remained mothballed after its production and assemblage in 2001 for reasons I really can’t fathom — then briefly popped its head up above ground to see publication via Swimmers Group in 2017 before disappearing again — and has now briefly re-emerged in 2020 thanks to John Porcellino. As someone once said, “what a long, strange trip it’s been —”

That being said, you know that you’re in “grab it while you can” territory with this one, and now it’s incumbent upon me to tell you why you should. Which, all things considered, is a pretty easy gig, because the work speaks for itself.

Arranged and assembled one panel at a time, the intention behind Laliberte’s meticulous and no doubt time-consuming labors is clear from the outset :…

I’ve often remarked — no, I swear, I have! — that the best cartoonists are those with no fucks left to give, but leave it to Casanova Frankenstein (or, if you’re old-fashioned, Al Frank) to prove me wrong : you see, he’s living proof that the best cartoonists are those who never had any fucks to give in the first place.

Long-time fans and admirers of Cassie’s Tad Martin work have suffered from an embarrassment of riches in recent years, beginning with Profanity Hill/Teenager Dinosaur issuing The Adventures Of Tad Martin #sicksicksix after nearly a two-decade publishing hiatus for the title, continuing through the artist self-publishing The Adventures Of Tad Martin Super-Secret Special #1 and, later, The Adventures Of Tad Martin Omnibus hardcover through Lulu, and culminating in Austin English’s Domino Books releasing the dreadfully gorgeous Tad Martin #7. In between all that, however, Gary Groth’s “street cred” imprint, Fantagraphics…

Some might be inclined to think that my choice to review R. Sikoryak’s 2019 self-published mini Constitution Illustrated Sampler at a time when we seem to be rolling from one constitutional crisis into another is a case of good timing, but in truth my aims are far more localized, arguably even egocentric : I’m simply on the lookout for the kinds of things I haven’t reviewed before, just to expand the ol’ horizons and what have you, and the idea of a short preview of a longer, forthcoming work fits that bill nicely. Such a curiosity may be tough to evaluate on its own merits, it’s true, but it should be possible to glean from it a general sense of whether or not you want to buy the longer, no-doubt fancier, D+Q hardcover its contents are plucked from when the time comes — and in fact, getting you “jazzed up”…

A collaborative effort between writer Lane Yates and artist Garrett Young that was self-published toward the tail end of 2019, The Garden is a curious and fascinating mini that weaves an utterly unique spell that exemplifies the notion of, with apologies to Dan Clowes, an iron first under a velvet glove. But that fist is all the more powerful for restraining itself and never quite connecting.

Set in a bucolic and lavish landscape rife with strange growth, an aging couple referred to only as “Neighbor” and “Fellow” strike up an intimate relationship in the midst of “all this dreadful beauty,” largely because — apart from an omnipresent, multi-eyeballed observer — there doesn’t appear to be anybody else around. Details are scarce — aside from those found within Young’s intense, intricate illustrations — and that’s one of the comic’s most intriguing facets : who these people are, what they’re doing here…

Cartoonist Larkin Ford’s 2018-published Birdcage Bottom Books mini, Goat Song, isn’t just a curious beast in and of itself — it’s also, at least partially, about a curious beast. Who’s brought into the world by an even more curious birth. And if you’re getting the distinct vibe that we’re kind of in Eraserhead territory here, pat yourself on the back because you’re absolutely right.

In purely physical terms, it’s sort of a gorgeous-looking little comic : riso-printed in rich black ink on aesthetically pleasing cream-colored paper stock and featuring coolly intriguing shades of blue on the cover, it’s a suitably raw and unvarnished item to hold in your hand, but it’s quality is also such that it almost borders on the lavish, the overall sensation not being all that unlike riding around a worn and scuffed old Rolex or Omega watch on your wrist. It’s rough around the edges…

Once in awhile, if you’re like me (in which case I’m sorry), there’s nothing that does the trick like a little bit of gross-out humor. It’s old-school in the extreme, sure, but that doesn’t mean it can’t have something to say about not just personal struggles but contemporary life in general when done well, and that’s where Mike Centeno and his self-published mini, The Cutaneous Adventures Of P.L. Dermes, come into the picture.

Well, almost. This book’s uniquely elongated format is tough to get “into the picture” in a physical sense, presenting as it does one four-panel strip per one-sided page on blue paper between yellow covers, all riso-printed, but admittedly fun presentation aside, it’s the fact that its contents are pretty tough to get out of your head that makes it worth your time — provided you’re equipped with a reasonably strong constitution, of course.

These strips originally…

A staggeringly, tragically large number of people are losing their grandparents right now “thanks” to COVID-19 — and that’s a loss that, for most, both stings and sticks with you. Our grandparents are more than just our mom’s mom, our dad’s dad, or what have you, after all — when they’re still with us, they represent a living connection to our family’s past; to the past in a general sense. And when that’s gone — when they’re gone — so is a big part of where we’ve come from, and an even bigger part of what made us who we are.

There’s no “solution” to grief, of course, and I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news but the concept of “closure” is a lie — but that doesn’t mean we can’t move forward with the lessons out grandparents taught us, indeed the grounding they gave us, never far…

How are you feeling lately? Stressed? Overwhelmed? Worried? Anxious? There’s no shame in that — we all are, by and large, I’d safely wager. And while there may not be a cure for COVD-19, last year the great veteran cartoonist David Lasky prepared, and self-published, a cure in advance for all of your entirely understandable psychological woes in the form of a deluxe, generously-sized illustration ‘zine called Cat-Tropolis.

Unless, ya know, you don’t like cats — in which case, your opinion holds no weight around these parts, nor among cultured, civilized peoples in general. But hey, good luck with everything, regardless.

Musical cats, astronaut cats, robot cats, detective cats, mad scientist cats, super-hero cats, Log Lady cats, Bowie cats, Cobain cats — and even cats just doing everyday cat stuff, some drawn in black and white, others in lush color, are what this book is all about, and I…