After a rocky attempt at living in London with his partner, Lawrence finds himself single, broke, and back at home in Compton with his mom and great-aunt, moping from bed to kitchen table and back to bed again, with long layovers on the front porch to sit and watch the world pass him by. Everything had been so good—a degree, an animation internship, paid music gigs, the perfect girl. How the heck did Lawrence get knocked so far down, with such little semblance of his former life remaining to hold him together? Well, that’s a long story…
Set to a cacophonous soundtrack of church praise, playground noise, bus-stop camaraderie, and Pacific Ocean waves, Lawrence Lindell’s heartbreaking—and heartwarming—We All Got Something recounts a tragic and random act of violence, the PTSD that follows, lost love, and coming to terms with the underlying mental health crises sabotaging it all. A testament to the healing power of art and the vital role community plays in the process, Lindell’s graphic memoir is deeply personal and specific, but also relatable —because we all got something.
I like memoirs and this short graphic novel did not disappoint. It is clear there is a backstory. But instead of just delivering it, it unfolds and is discovered. Lindell is adept at conveying mood, attitude and emotion through simple drawings of facial expressions. I also enjoyed seeing the hardcore band t shirts throughout the story.
The statement raised by the title of this comic memoir asks the reader ‘What is the “it” we’ve all got?’ Lindell’s answer: a lot of trauma, which will find you, and a lot of support, which you have to try and find yourself. Lawrence is the name the author is referred to in the book, which could be considered autofiction until the 'About the Author' at the book's end. Lawrence has bipolar. The story picks up with him at a bus stop in Compton, CA, his hometown that he has returned to after what seems to be a failed attempt to make it in comic book publishing in Europe. He’s been away in London, Paris, and, maybe, elsewhere, but his attempts at trying to live the dream end up back at home, with his mother and aunt. Back in his bedroom, where each day fades to a black of day-to-day depression, triggered by the sense of failure, he is greeted by badgering, arguments, sermons, advice, and pep-talks: He should eat. “Jesus will fix it.” He should get a job so he can pay rent. He needs to wake up! What are you doing with your life? Speech bubbles quiver and writhe and go fuzzy, imbuing the entire scene with Lawrence feelings in each moment.
Despite using sparse black-and-white cartoons, Lindell suggests the plot and character development. We seem to learn a lot about the character and plot in fits and starts, tiny fleeting moments, like close ups of coffee machines, the names Lawrence assigns his ex in his phone, entire scenes taking place inside thought clouds, or large expressive art-text signifying deeper experiences, so intense they are unable to be constructed visually. Is it too pat to say Lindell's art allows us to impose our own experiences and have them reflected back? Sure, but the balance between what he gives us and what the reader is able to inflect and invent makes the experience unique. These moments hem him in, crowd him out, fade or cut to all-black– as if he’s absorbed into the very thing he’s failing at.
Fans of stories like Jerry Craft's New Kid or Jason Reynold's Long Way Down will recognize the thematic beats. Also (and I feel like this is because I am in love with this book) Frank Santoro's Pittsburgh has a lot of similarities too. The graphic memoir is a rite of passage for a comic book artist. It's a house style that now demands an inventive basket of ideas to maintain novelty. Lindell achieves this.
The statement raised by the title of this comic memoir asks the reader ‘What is the “it” we’ve all got?’ Lindell’s answer: a lot of trauma, which will find you, and a lot of support, which you have to try and find for yourself. Lawrence (a Black man) has bipolar disorder. The story picks up with him at a bus stop in Compton, CA, the hometown that he has returned to after what seems to be a failed attempt to make it in comic book publishing in Europe. He’s been away in London, Paris, and, maybe, elsewhere, but his attempts at trying to live the dream end up back at home, with his mother and aunt. Back in his bedroom, where each day fades to a black of day-to-day depression, triggered by the sense of failure, he is greeted by badgering, arguments, sermons, advice, and pep-talks. He should eat. “Jesus will fix it.” He should get a job so he can pay rent. He needs to wake up! What are you doing with your life? Speech bubbles quiver and writhe and go fuzzy, imbuing scenes with Lawrence’s feelings in each moment.
Despite the sparse black-and-white cartoons, Lindell strongly suggests the plot and character development. We learn a lot in fits and starts, tiny fleeting moments, like close ups of coffee machines, the names Lawrence assigns his ex in his phone, entire scenes taking place inside thought clouds, or large expressive art-text signifying deeper experiences, so intense they are unable to be constructed visually. Is it too pat to say Lindell's art allows us to impose our own experiences and have them reflected back? Sure, but the balance between what he gives us and what the reader is able to intuit and invent makes the experience unique. These moments hem Lawrence in, crowd him out, fade or cut to all-black, as if he’s absorbed into the very thing he’s failing at. Link to complete review: https://ysbookreviews.wordpress.com/2...
We All Got Something (2025) is a memoir from Lawrence Lindell, whose Blackward I thought was good. Lindell's thick-lined, cartoony style is likeable and accessible, which softens the potential anguish of his story. So what's Lindell got? Bi-polar, he says, though we don't spend much time on hos that impacts his life spinning out of control. This is mostly a tale of a rough patch in his life.
(4.2) Lawrence has lofty ambitions but a series of setbacks have brought him back home. His family and friends (somewhat) provide an aggressive yet supportive network with frequent reality checks. Although this network wasn’t as helpful, It opened the door for talking through issues and professional diagnosis. The artwork wasn’t my favorite but it has a familiarity to it that grew on me.
Things are going your way...you are just starting your career...you are getting along really well with your girlfriend...then it all falls apart, and you have to move back in with your mom and your aunt! Lawrence Lindell shares a story that is know all too well: how a series of events can force you to start all over again. Very relatable in the job market of today.
This was a cute read that had so many elements that felt familiar. Seeing the interactions with the mom and neighbors had me wonder "did we all have the same childhood?".
Although the storyline was at times hard for me to follow, I appreciated that the author spoke honestly and bravely about mental health and the struggles so many experience in this area. It's not an easy thing to discuss, but helps readers feel seen and hopeful.
Lindell's story of starting over post-trauma. Takes a very long time to get going, which is kind of his point about that period in his life--- but it makes for a slow read; half the book feels like we're still setting up. Comes together nicely by the end. Short but good.
Fast read, don’t really have any insights about this other then it’s interesting to see Los Angeles from a lower income perspective. It’s rare so it was nice to see that and him getting the lingo right.
We really do all got something. A perfect book for when your plans didn’t quite work out how you hoped and you find yourself directionless and depressed.