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Flocks
L. Nichols, a trans man, artist, engineer and father of two, was born in rural Louisiana, assigned female and raised by conservative Christians. Flocks is his memoir of that childhood, and of his family, friends and community, the flocks of Flocks, that shaped and re-shaped him. L.'s irresistibly charming drawings demonstrate what makes Flocks so special: L.'s boundless empathy.
332 pages, Paperback
First published September 9, 2012
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 134 reviews
March 28, 2022
This is one of those books that I wish I liked more than I did. There's certainly nothing seriously wrong with it, just pacing problems. It gets a bit repetitive, and I'd hazard a guess that it originally appeared in a more episodic version--perhaps online?--where this drawback wasn't as obvious.
So L. was born and raised in the New Orleans area, and grew up Baptist. This religious upbringing caused internal conflict because she was attracted to girls (mostly) but was being taught that same sex attraction was a sin. I don't think it's spoiling anything to say that life improves. She realizes she's a man in a woman's body, and becomes a he. Things generally work out. It gets better, as the saying goes.
What struck me most about this book was the ultimately positive view of Christian spirituality that came through. Yes, the Baptist church was no fun for a trans person unsure of their identity to grow up in, but the problem wasn't religion per se, just that particular iteration of it. It's a nuanced view that I don't often see in the media; most stories that deal with religion (both fiction and non) tend to be either strongly pro- or anti-, with very little in between.
In the end, it's definitely a book worth reading. Recommended!
So L. was born and raised in the New Orleans area, and grew up Baptist. This religious upbringing caused internal conflict because she was attracted to girls (mostly) but was being taught that same sex attraction was a sin. I don't think it's spoiling anything to say that life improves. She realizes she's a man in a woman's body, and becomes a he. Things generally work out. It gets better, as the saying goes.
What struck me most about this book was the ultimately positive view of Christian spirituality that came through. Yes, the Baptist church was no fun for a trans person unsure of their identity to grow up in, but the problem wasn't religion per se, just that particular iteration of it. It's a nuanced view that I don't often see in the media; most stories that deal with religion (both fiction and non) tend to be either strongly pro- or anti-, with very little in between.
In the end, it's definitely a book worth reading. Recommended!
September 29, 2018
In the close to 70 glbtq graphic memoirs and fiction I have read in the past couple years, very few deal with the faith complications that coming out can entail. As the Crow Flies by Melanie Gilman was one I recall. I think most of them assume that when you come out you also come clean out of your (conservative) religious background that condemns you as gay sinner. This book is an exception to that rule: Nichols is nearly crushed by his sense of himself as sinner, but never gives up on his faith in God, and finds flocks--church and otherwise that will love and support him. He's gracious, expecting grace.
L. Nichols, "born" (or is it assigned?), Laura, is never comfortable in his body, and a familiar story of coming out is told, in the context of a (conservative) Southern Baptist seventies upbringing. It's a pretty straightforwardly told tale, though it is repetitive in its depiction of the struggles, something I associate with its being adapted from the webcomic Nichols constructed over the years. This could have been thinned down. We know people are often narrow-minded and even gay-bashing, especially true of the Louisiana he describes growing up in the seventies, and we know The Church in this time largely saw being gay as sinful, but we hear this again and again in this book. I suppose it's like a nightmare he can't wake up from, an echo he hears every day. But I think if I had not also just read the lyrical and poetic Passing For Human by Liana Finck I might have appreciated this more. I felt like more time could have been spent on the unique aspects of Nichols's positive engagements with religion that keep him in the faith. So there's repetitions, and there's gaps about relationships he develops Some stuff just seems missing in the story.
These support groups, friends, the church, some of her family, are his "flocks," and this is a cool and important idea. I also liked Nichols's fun and colorful illustrations, that invite all readers in. But the main audience for this seventies (largely) coming-of-age story might be young people, encouraging them to become the selves they were meant to be (and yes, he's still a Christian at the end).
L. Nichols, "born" (or is it assigned?), Laura, is never comfortable in his body, and a familiar story of coming out is told, in the context of a (conservative) Southern Baptist seventies upbringing. It's a pretty straightforwardly told tale, though it is repetitive in its depiction of the struggles, something I associate with its being adapted from the webcomic Nichols constructed over the years. This could have been thinned down. We know people are often narrow-minded and even gay-bashing, especially true of the Louisiana he describes growing up in the seventies, and we know The Church in this time largely saw being gay as sinful, but we hear this again and again in this book. I suppose it's like a nightmare he can't wake up from, an echo he hears every day. But I think if I had not also just read the lyrical and poetic Passing For Human by Liana Finck I might have appreciated this more. I felt like more time could have been spent on the unique aspects of Nichols's positive engagements with religion that keep him in the faith. So there's repetitions, and there's gaps about relationships he develops Some stuff just seems missing in the story.
These support groups, friends, the church, some of her family, are his "flocks," and this is a cool and important idea. I also liked Nichols's fun and colorful illustrations, that invite all readers in. But the main audience for this seventies (largely) coming-of-age story might be young people, encouraging them to become the selves they were meant to be (and yes, he's still a Christian at the end).
April 2, 2019
A trans male recounts his childhood and eventual transition through the fascinating prism of communities. Growing up as Laura in Louisiana, Nichols was constantly torn between the loving support of family and church and terror of the condemnation and damnation from those same groups should struggles with sexuality and gender ever be revealed. Despite spells of anxiety and depression, Laura and later L. are able to continually find communities in high school, college and beyond from which they can draw the positive energy and support they need to find a way to becoming the person he wants to be. And part of that is a strong attachment to religion, which is often absent or downplayed in these sort of memoirs. It was interesting to see how faith can be kept even when your church is attacking the very core of your identity.
My only problems with the book are that some of the author's themes were hammered home with way too much repetition throughout while other huge developments in Nichol's life were glossed over much too quickly, especially the whole last chapter.
My only problems with the book are that some of the author's themes were hammered home with way too much repetition throughout while other huge developments in Nichol's life were glossed over much too quickly, especially the whole last chapter.
March 28, 2020
This book is a journey of faith, sexuality, and gender, and how sometimes those things don’t intertwine as graciously as we would like. 🖤
November 21, 2019
Longtime comics readers are no strangers to memoirs about growing up queer. Many of the greatest cartoonists have at least one book about the complexities of their own gender and/or sexual identities. These works make up an impressively large number of the best comics that the medium has to offer. And while L. Nichols’ book, Flocks, fits into this rich tradition of queer and trans memoirs, it’s among the least compelling.
Flocks is a coming-of-age story about a trans man who grew up in a white, rural, Christian town in Louisiana and who then escapes by way of academic success. On paper, it sounds like the makings of an excellent story. But unfortunately, it’s written much more in the style of a dry, illustrated essay than as a moving graphic memoir or autobiography. The title of the book refers to what one might even call the book’s “thesis statement”—that individuals are the product of the groups (or “flocks”) that we are a part of. The essayistic structure and language removed any real emotional connection for me. And the constant refrain of the argument/thesis that he develops just ended up making the whole narrative arc seem overly “neat” and too cleanly and quickly resolved.
As a professional educator, I’ve read thousands of personal statements from students over the years who apply to a variety of graduate programs. The standard structure of most personal statements goes something like the following: some childhood trauma or hardship led to studying Subject X, and only by entering into University X or Doctoral Program Y will the writer ultimately resolve that early trauma or hardship. The form of the personal statement is an artificial way to narrate one’s own traumas and to make school seem like the thing that will resolve them. Flocks reads exactly like this kind of personal statement.
While I think the suggestion to “show, don’t tell” isn’t always good writing advice, this is a book that could stand to follow that cliched maxim. The story in Flocks hinges on personal transformation, and therefore it needs us to understand where, why, and how that transformation happened. But I am disallowed from sympathizing with or understanding his epiphanies because I am simply told what they are. I have to take him at his word without having any real understanding of his thoughts or feelings. There is a story here somewhere, but this wasn’t the best way to tell it.
Flocks is a coming-of-age story about a trans man who grew up in a white, rural, Christian town in Louisiana and who then escapes by way of academic success. On paper, it sounds like the makings of an excellent story. But unfortunately, it’s written much more in the style of a dry, illustrated essay than as a moving graphic memoir or autobiography. The title of the book refers to what one might even call the book’s “thesis statement”—that individuals are the product of the groups (or “flocks”) that we are a part of. The essayistic structure and language removed any real emotional connection for me. And the constant refrain of the argument/thesis that he develops just ended up making the whole narrative arc seem overly “neat” and too cleanly and quickly resolved.
As a professional educator, I’ve read thousands of personal statements from students over the years who apply to a variety of graduate programs. The standard structure of most personal statements goes something like the following: some childhood trauma or hardship led to studying Subject X, and only by entering into University X or Doctoral Program Y will the writer ultimately resolve that early trauma or hardship. The form of the personal statement is an artificial way to narrate one’s own traumas and to make school seem like the thing that will resolve them. Flocks reads exactly like this kind of personal statement.
While I think the suggestion to “show, don’t tell” isn’t always good writing advice, this is a book that could stand to follow that cliched maxim. The story in Flocks hinges on personal transformation, and therefore it needs us to understand where, why, and how that transformation happened. But I am disallowed from sympathizing with or understanding his epiphanies because I am simply told what they are. I have to take him at his word without having any real understanding of his thoughts or feelings. There is a story here somewhere, but this wasn’t the best way to tell it.
January 31, 2019
Flocks is an emotional story about growing up queer in a community that doesn't support queerness and finding yourself in various supportive groups (flocks) that keep you alive and improving. It's also fairly surface level, more a blow-by-blow recounting of the author's life than an in-depth examination of formative events or the people who helped or hindered along the way. The book works in the sense that it proves there's nothing wrong with being trans and that anyone who is struggling can find hope. It doesn't work in the storytelling sense, particularly the first few chapters where the author repeatedly rails against God and the church. That got old fast and was a precursor to the repetitious themes that the author hammers home. Faith! Community! Groups! Parts of the book felt more like a sermon than a memoir.
April 7, 2019
Oh wow I don’t know how to talk about this book, it’s genuinely a masterpiece but on a level I don’t have useful language for? This review gets a lot of it right, especially the last paragraph: This is a work to love: http://www.tcj.com/reviews/flocks/
October 5, 2018
"Boundless empathy" (from the descriptive blurb) is the perfect phrase to describe L. Nichols. He was one of the first cartoonists I met when I first started publishing my work and attending indie comic conventions, and he was welcoming and encouraging from the start. I always look forward to catching up when I see him at shows.
I've been excited to read each new issue of Flocks when it was being released as single issues and delighted to see that a wonderful publisher like Secret Acres collecting all of the initial issues along with three (I think?) new issues/chapters concluding L.'s memoir.
Nichols details his early realization that he is "different" from most of his peers. Raised in a very observant Baptist family, he struggles to suppress his sexuality and gender identity. This memoir could easily have become a condemnation of Christianity and rigid ideology, but instead Nichols always recognizes the beneficial aspects of the religion he was raised in, namely community. Luckily, he eventually supplements that community with more accepting communities and friendships along the way to deciding to transition from female to male.
I read books and comics to experience different viewpoints or experiences than my own, and this one definitely delivered! A good writer allows you to identify with the protagonist, even if your experiences are vastly different, and again, Nichols delivered.
I've been excited to read each new issue of Flocks when it was being released as single issues and delighted to see that a wonderful publisher like Secret Acres collecting all of the initial issues along with three (I think?) new issues/chapters concluding L.'s memoir.
Nichols details his early realization that he is "different" from most of his peers. Raised in a very observant Baptist family, he struggles to suppress his sexuality and gender identity. This memoir could easily have become a condemnation of Christianity and rigid ideology, but instead Nichols always recognizes the beneficial aspects of the religion he was raised in, namely community. Luckily, he eventually supplements that community with more accepting communities and friendships along the way to deciding to transition from female to male.
I read books and comics to experience different viewpoints or experiences than my own, and this one definitely delivered! A good writer allows you to identify with the protagonist, even if your experiences are vastly different, and again, Nichols delivered.
Read
December 5, 2024And today's pick is Flocks by L. Nichols. Originally published in 2012, I believe I read the 2018 edition published by Secret Acres.
A trans graphic memoir, I also HAD to pick it up because I accidentally read the follow up title I Am Only A Foreigner Because You Do Not Understand earlier this year.
Content notes for c section, homophobic, Christianity, slurs, fatphobia, skeletons, drinking/smoking, disordered eating, and cutting.
Keywords that came to mind were coming of age, queer, community, arrows, escape, leaving home behind, and family conflict.
The summary is "L. Nichols, a trans man, artist, engineer and father of two, was born in rural Louisiana, assigned female and raised by conservative Christians. Flocks is his memoir of that childhood, and of his family, friends and community, the flocks of Flocks, that shaped and re-shaped him. L.'s irresistibly charming drawings demonstrate what makes Flocks so special: L.'s boundless empathy."
If you want to learn more about Nichols I'll point you again to my review of I Am Only a Foreigner Because You Do Not Understand. Although I will also note that since the publication of Flocks L's gender journey has continued on it's way and Nichol's no longer ID's as a binary trans man and instead sees themselves as somewhere in the centre of all this gender chaos (as I like to describe it).
Looking at the writing and art of Flocks, they continued to mesh super well and Nichols uses visuals to communicate a lot of emotion very effectively and without making things overly complicated.
The color scheme and page layouts were pleasing to the eye and Nichol's choice to represent themselves as a doll was imaginative and successfully communicates how Nichols felt.
Community was a real central theme in Flocks. Particularly the way that evengelical christian community can hold you close one moment and spit you out the next depending on if you conform or not. Although L is able to eventually find many other communities, including a new faith community, to be part of as they find themselves. There's also a fair amount of comparing and contrasting between L's parents after they divorced. Both of whom use L against the other. Fun!
Gender exploration is also obviously front and centre. Hair plays a big part in this first volume for L. There's the push and pull between learning how to express oneself even as L's mom tries to corner them in a femme box. There's the all too common arc of moving from the country to the city to find the space to express yourself (highly relatable, although certainly not universal). I thought it was interesting how Nichols highlighted the link between being able to more freely express themselves and their mental health improving.
There's also a fair amount of exploration of sexuality as well. L even seems to have a net positive experience getting involved with a pre-existing couple. Which you almost never hear about - la shock.
Class and place felt highlighted and lightly explored. L is able to pull themselves out of a small southern town through education and losing their accent.
There is some racial diversity but being such an introspective memoir it isn't explored.
Wrapping things up. It was a bit hard to reach a fairly positive ending already knowing that there is more struggle to come because I accidently read this duology out of order. But it was a brave, interesting and important story. A story of moving forward and ultimately sometimes realizing what you thought was the end goal was actually a false peak on a longer journey.
A trans graphic memoir, I also HAD to pick it up because I accidentally read the follow up title I Am Only A Foreigner Because You Do Not Understand earlier this year.
Content notes for c section, homophobic, Christianity, slurs, fatphobia, skeletons, drinking/smoking, disordered eating, and cutting.
Keywords that came to mind were coming of age, queer, community, arrows, escape, leaving home behind, and family conflict.
The summary is "L. Nichols, a trans man, artist, engineer and father of two, was born in rural Louisiana, assigned female and raised by conservative Christians. Flocks is his memoir of that childhood, and of his family, friends and community, the flocks of Flocks, that shaped and re-shaped him. L.'s irresistibly charming drawings demonstrate what makes Flocks so special: L.'s boundless empathy."
If you want to learn more about Nichols I'll point you again to my review of I Am Only a Foreigner Because You Do Not Understand. Although I will also note that since the publication of Flocks L's gender journey has continued on it's way and Nichol's no longer ID's as a binary trans man and instead sees themselves as somewhere in the centre of all this gender chaos (as I like to describe it).
Looking at the writing and art of Flocks, they continued to mesh super well and Nichols uses visuals to communicate a lot of emotion very effectively and without making things overly complicated.
The color scheme and page layouts were pleasing to the eye and Nichol's choice to represent themselves as a doll was imaginative and successfully communicates how Nichols felt.
Community was a real central theme in Flocks. Particularly the way that evengelical christian community can hold you close one moment and spit you out the next depending on if you conform or not. Although L is able to eventually find many other communities, including a new faith community, to be part of as they find themselves. There's also a fair amount of comparing and contrasting between L's parents after they divorced. Both of whom use L against the other. Fun!
Gender exploration is also obviously front and centre. Hair plays a big part in this first volume for L. There's the push and pull between learning how to express oneself even as L's mom tries to corner them in a femme box. There's the all too common arc of moving from the country to the city to find the space to express yourself (highly relatable, although certainly not universal). I thought it was interesting how Nichols highlighted the link between being able to more freely express themselves and their mental health improving.
There's also a fair amount of exploration of sexuality as well. L even seems to have a net positive experience getting involved with a pre-existing couple. Which you almost never hear about - la shock.
Class and place felt highlighted and lightly explored. L is able to pull themselves out of a small southern town through education and losing their accent.
There is some racial diversity but being such an introspective memoir it isn't explored.
Wrapping things up. It was a bit hard to reach a fairly positive ending already knowing that there is more struggle to come because I accidently read this duology out of order. But it was a brave, interesting and important story. A story of moving forward and ultimately sometimes realizing what you thought was the end goal was actually a false peak on a longer journey.
October 11, 2018
The author's graphic novel memoir of growing up a trans man in Louisiana in a conservative church.
I can't imagine being so uncomfortable in your own body that you hate yourself. I wouldn't want to live in a family and community that emphasized church-going to this degree. The mental confusion of realizing you're queer when just the whisper of the word would result in sneers and anger was added pain. This book gave me a peek at all of these. And when I say 'peek', I mean that it was painful to crack your eyes fully open to the pain and confusion and depression and fear on these pages. So I did it with a bit of a protective squint.
It really is an amazing book, including the artwork. The soft flocked body of L. Nichols echoes the flocks of people that he survives with, and is friends with, and loves. The author says that the groups you're with all shape you in different ways. I'll think about that one as I move from day to day.
Mad kudos to L. Nichols and I'm so happy you found your spot that's you.
I can't imagine being so uncomfortable in your own body that you hate yourself. I wouldn't want to live in a family and community that emphasized church-going to this degree. The mental confusion of realizing you're queer when just the whisper of the word would result in sneers and anger was added pain. This book gave me a peek at all of these. And when I say 'peek', I mean that it was painful to crack your eyes fully open to the pain and confusion and depression and fear on these pages. So I did it with a bit of a protective squint.
It really is an amazing book, including the artwork. The soft flocked body of L. Nichols echoes the flocks of people that he survives with, and is friends with, and loves. The author says that the groups you're with all shape you in different ways. I'll think about that one as I move from day to day.
Mad kudos to L. Nichols and I'm so happy you found your spot that's you.
June 23, 2019
I loved this memoir so much, its such a beautiful graphic novel and I want to share it with everyone. I can't stress enough how incredible this book was. It's one of my favorite memoirs and an incredible piece on being queer, finding yourself, and reconciling who you are with your faith system and the world around you. It's heartbreaking, it's affirming, it's full of sweet moments that made my heart sing... It's just so dang good.
September 17, 2019
Dawww. What a meaningful and insightful book by a wonderful open heart.
February 8, 2023
Very relatable.
September 27, 2023
A really honest and illuminating description of what it's like to grow up trans in a community that doesn't accept queer identities. It was hard for me to read at times because I could relate to some of the rawness. This memoir shines a light on trans identity, and how the communities that surround us shape our perceptions, experiences, and ultimately how we see ourselves.
March 6, 2018
A touching and whimsically-illustrated memoir about growing up trans and Southern Baptist.
(Full disclosure: I received a free e-ARC for review through Edelweiss. Trigger warning for homophobia, depression, self-harm, and eating disorders.)
L. Nichols was born in Louisiana (some time in the mid-to-late-1970s, if the rad TMNT reference is any indication!) and assigned female ("Laura") at birth. Raised in a conservative Southern Baptist community, L. always felt different; an outcast, a freak, a sinner.
Throughout his childhood and teen years, L. tried to suppress his attraction to girls - and was further confounded by the occasional crushes he developed on boys. While he enjoyed some parts of the church experience - the emphasis on faith, the sense of fellowship, and the feeling that there are things bigger than oneself - his church's virulent homophobia and adherence to rigid gender roles alienated L. and led to isolation, depression, and self-harm.
But whereas L.'s community failed him on one front, it succeeded on another: despite his being labeled "female," L.'s family and teachers encouraged him to pursue his love of science and technology, culminating in a Master's degree from the MIT Media Lab. It was during his college years that L. pinpointed the reason for the animosity he felt toward his body, and decided to transition.
Flocks is L.'s memoir, told in graphic novel format. The vehicle through which L. chooses to tell his story perfectly encapsulates the many contradictions in his life: while STEM majors aren't typically considered artsy or creative, L. is indeed a talented artist. His sad little rag doll depiction of himself is at once whimsical and rather heartbreaking (doubly so when we witness stuffing fall out of self-inflicted cuts on his legs). Given all he's been through, L.'s upbeat, optimistic attitude is downright uplifting. (And I typically consider myself an Oscar the Grouch type, so that's quite a compliment coming from my neck of the dump.)
While the main thrust of the story is L.'s burgeoning sexuality and exploration of his gender identity, he tackles a number of other serious topics as well: his parents' acrimonious divorce; the pressure of choosing a major and settling on a career path, post-graduation; polyamory; eating disorders; self-harm; depression; binge drinking; an appreciation of nature and the natural world; and the impact of community and in-group/out-group identity on one's sense of self.
It's an engaging, beautiful story, in both form and content. There's a little bit of repetition of themes and ideas early on (and not between chapters, i.e. to string them together, but within the same chapters), which does detract from the story. Even so, it's a must-read, and not just because it's more or less a one of a kind story, at least at this point in time. (Dear publishers, please give us more of this! Kay thanks bye.)
http://www.easyvegan.info/2018/09/14/...
(Full disclosure: I received a free e-ARC for review through Edelweiss. Trigger warning for homophobia, depression, self-harm, and eating disorders.)
L. Nichols was born in Louisiana (some time in the mid-to-late-1970s, if the rad TMNT reference is any indication!) and assigned female ("Laura") at birth. Raised in a conservative Southern Baptist community, L. always felt different; an outcast, a freak, a sinner.
Throughout his childhood and teen years, L. tried to suppress his attraction to girls - and was further confounded by the occasional crushes he developed on boys. While he enjoyed some parts of the church experience - the emphasis on faith, the sense of fellowship, and the feeling that there are things bigger than oneself - his church's virulent homophobia and adherence to rigid gender roles alienated L. and led to isolation, depression, and self-harm.
But whereas L.'s community failed him on one front, it succeeded on another: despite his being labeled "female," L.'s family and teachers encouraged him to pursue his love of science and technology, culminating in a Master's degree from the MIT Media Lab. It was during his college years that L. pinpointed the reason for the animosity he felt toward his body, and decided to transition.
Flocks is L.'s memoir, told in graphic novel format. The vehicle through which L. chooses to tell his story perfectly encapsulates the many contradictions in his life: while STEM majors aren't typically considered artsy or creative, L. is indeed a talented artist. His sad little rag doll depiction of himself is at once whimsical and rather heartbreaking (doubly so when we witness stuffing fall out of self-inflicted cuts on his legs). Given all he's been through, L.'s upbeat, optimistic attitude is downright uplifting. (And I typically consider myself an Oscar the Grouch type, so that's quite a compliment coming from my neck of the dump.)
While the main thrust of the story is L.'s burgeoning sexuality and exploration of his gender identity, he tackles a number of other serious topics as well: his parents' acrimonious divorce; the pressure of choosing a major and settling on a career path, post-graduation; polyamory; eating disorders; self-harm; depression; binge drinking; an appreciation of nature and the natural world; and the impact of community and in-group/out-group identity on one's sense of self.
It's an engaging, beautiful story, in both form and content. There's a little bit of repetition of themes and ideas early on (and not between chapters, i.e. to string them together, but within the same chapters), which does detract from the story. Even so, it's a must-read, and not just because it's more or less a one of a kind story, at least at this point in time. (Dear publishers, please give us more of this! Kay thanks bye.)
http://www.easyvegan.info/2018/09/14/...
September 12, 2018
If the first four sections of this book had been consolidated into one, this would have been a four, maybe five star book. The art is great. The message is fantastic. But the first four sections are the same story over and over and over and over again.
As a device, I enjoy repetition in poetry and prose, when used sparingly. In a graphic novel, it's exhausting. In many ways, the text of a graphic novel is often already a repetition of the artwork. By the fourth time I saw a three panel grid of one person muttering "faggot", one person muttering "dyke", and a third person muttering "gay", I started skipping pages. The point had fully been made.
Even now, being young and queer is hard, but it was certainly more isolating and confusing before the internet. So I understand why so many queer narratives are so focused on the trauma of childhood and adolescence, but the interesting part of this story begins with L's going to college and the journey of acceptance. Unfortunately, by the time that came up, I had come to view the narrator as exhausting, as there was hardly any joy or even neutral events or thoughts in the first 2/5ths of the book.
If you're invested in the metaphor of the long, tedious, tortuous youth before a person starts to accept who they are and who they want to be, then this will probably be a five star book. Again, the art is fantastic. I will absolutely pick up another L Nichols book in the future.
As a device, I enjoy repetition in poetry and prose, when used sparingly. In a graphic novel, it's exhausting. In many ways, the text of a graphic novel is often already a repetition of the artwork. By the fourth time I saw a three panel grid of one person muttering "faggot", one person muttering "dyke", and a third person muttering "gay", I started skipping pages. The point had fully been made.
Even now, being young and queer is hard, but it was certainly more isolating and confusing before the internet. So I understand why so many queer narratives are so focused on the trauma of childhood and adolescence, but the interesting part of this story begins with L's going to college and the journey of acceptance. Unfortunately, by the time that came up, I had come to view the narrator as exhausting, as there was hardly any joy or even neutral events or thoughts in the first 2/5ths of the book.
If you're invested in the metaphor of the long, tedious, tortuous youth before a person starts to accept who they are and who they want to be, then this will probably be a five star book. Again, the art is fantastic. I will absolutely pick up another L Nichols book in the future.
March 6, 2019
Charming but somewhat simplistic graphic memoir of a trans man's journey towards self-acceptance. I liked it a lot, but think there are some pacing problems and I would have liked more depth to the last section. Worth a look, and particularly recommended to young queer peoples.
April 7, 2019
Read for work. Not really my speed -- I didn't care for the art, sections got repetitive, and I'm not really into memoir as a genre -- but I know transmasc memoirs are a bit thin on the ground, and if that's what you're looking for, here this one is!
September 18, 2019
I agree with other reviews that this was definitely repetitive. The story was good and important, but it got somewhat lost in the repetitive nature. I would've loved more about the author's later years, as I did their story inspirational overall.
April 17, 2019
This is one of those graphic novels I read to try to figure out where it belongs in the library, and I still don't know the answer by the end of it.
I really appreciated Nichols's struggle with his faith and his sexuality; as someone raised in an evangelical church, I can really relate to trying to balance what you learn in church with the world around you, and I like that, ultimately, Nichols finds a way to practice his faith in a way that feels true and authentic and accepting.
I didn't love the art in this, but I do think using a rag doll avatar for himself was a good way to add some distance for the readers from his struggle and trauma (the self harm images in particular would have been Too Much on a more realistically drawn character).
I do love the optimistic, happy note this ended one, and fwiw, I am putting this in our teen collection because I think there are probably teens out there who need to read this.
I really appreciated Nichols's struggle with his faith and his sexuality; as someone raised in an evangelical church, I can really relate to trying to balance what you learn in church with the world around you, and I like that, ultimately, Nichols finds a way to practice his faith in a way that feels true and authentic and accepting.
I didn't love the art in this, but I do think using a rag doll avatar for himself was a good way to add some distance for the readers from his struggle and trauma (the self harm images in particular would have been Too Much on a more realistically drawn character).
I do love the optimistic, happy note this ended one, and fwiw, I am putting this in our teen collection because I think there are probably teens out there who need to read this.
October 28, 2018
One of the most honest and touching graphic memoirs I've read. This one really dug into my heart, because my upbringing and journey away from home was so similar to the author's. I know how difficult it was sometimes for me, a cis straight woman who usually fit the molds set it front of me, as I grew and changed my mind on certain things I'd been taught; I can't imagine how much harder it was for someone who had the added difficulty of a secret internal struggle. For the author to have come through the other side and reflect in such a way that brought all my own old memories of anxiety and worry rushing back speaks volumes, for me, about his mastery. I can't tell you how happy I am to see that he made it through and is doing well.
This is up at the top of my list for best graphic memoirs of the year, potentially ever.
This is up at the top of my list for best graphic memoirs of the year, potentially ever.
November 29, 2021
Really touching graphic novel that tells the story of a trans man growing up in a Southern Baptist Church in Louisiana. It touches on themes of faith and community and how they can be both helpful and harmful. Your development and growth is influenced by the people around you, for better or for worse. While I would expect Nichols to feel scorned by the church he grew up in, he has a different take on faith: faith exists within himself and in the natural world around him. Believing that things would get better and happiness would eventually come around takes a huge leap of faith. I myself relate a lot to the themes in this book, so it was great to see somebody going through something similar. I also like how Nichols' background in engineering influenced the art style. Definitely a quick, uplifting read with an artistically interesting style.
April 25, 2019
This book should be added to any list of recommended LGBTQ memoir.
The style is clear, bright, easy to follow. It's a graphic novel, so it also reads really fast.
I have to admit that one of the reasons I enjoyed this book so much was that I could relate to a lot of the author's experiences - growing in the South, being religious as a youth, losing my accent, transitioning as an adult. Some of that was pretty powerful. Mileage may vary.
This is a great choice for young people who are questioning their gender or sexuality. Fair warning - it is written from a religious perspective, but in an honest way.
Overall, great read. Highly recommended.
The style is clear, bright, easy to follow. It's a graphic novel, so it also reads really fast.
I have to admit that one of the reasons I enjoyed this book so much was that I could relate to a lot of the author's experiences - growing in the South, being religious as a youth, losing my accent, transitioning as an adult. Some of that was pretty powerful. Mileage may vary.
This is a great choice for young people who are questioning their gender or sexuality. Fair warning - it is written from a religious perspective, but in an honest way.
Overall, great read. Highly recommended.
August 20, 2021
Somehow I went into this not knowing much about it, and I loved it. Parts were a hard read, especially about the author's childhood - but many excellent childhood reflections are also challenging! I *loved* the imagery, which was really unique - especially the CW was portrayed in a way that was so fitting and horrifying. I liked everything the author did with the doll imagery, especially in the adult portion of the book.
October 29, 2018
Really excellent graphic (comics) memoir. L. grows up Southern Baptist, surrounded by anti-queer messages, but enjoying nature and academics. L. later goes to a residential high school and then MIT, where he finds queer community. He eventually transitions. L. struggles with anti-fat messages, compulsory femininity, and depression. Content note for self-harm (cutting) and drinking too much. I loved this and read it in one sitting.
November 14, 2018
WOW. This exceeded my expectations. The cute illustrations belie the trauma detailed in the first part of the book. But in the end, the author takes a long view. There’s redemption in here, and a whole lotta love.
April 19, 2019
Most of all, this comic relates what it's like to feel different from others. L. Nichols portrays himself as an amorphous sock puppet of sorts, bowing to the weight of his queerness. Ugly humans rain down criticism and pronounce judgment. Reading the book is almost a visceral experience.
September 12, 2019
Reads like a play. Not like a script, though, but a play. I didn't get all the math stuff, but I'm terrible at math, sooooo...
January 16, 2020
This was a very sad and sweet book that I very much related to.
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