My Favorite Thing is Monsters
Today went better than I thought it would.
I had to peel myself out of bed to fix the kids breakfast this morning. I sleepwalked through the first few hours of the day, then napped with the baby while the oldest played with Legos. Afterward I felt not quite restored, but almost. Enough to take them to the children's museum and do an hour of yard work.
I also finished the first volume of My Favorite Thing is Monsters, the graphic novel I was so anxiously awaiting when I got scammed on Amazon. It lived up to my (admittedly high) expectations. The book's artwork is stunning and the story is first-rate, full of memorable characters and captivating plot twists.
One passage in particular, brought to mind my mother's memories of the cult:
Anka wasn't a liar. Actually--like a lot of crazy people--she had this way of cutting right down to the truth. But the stuff she described ... was pretty weird. I wondered if any of it came from inside her head, or had it come from another darker place?
Since I noticed the parallels between Monsters and my own memoir, I've been harboring a fantasy of collaborating with Emil Ferris. As passionate as I am about good writing, I find myself getting the most excited over books that offer a little something extra: graphic novels and memoirs with experimental bents. I don't think I'll ever have the drawing chops to create a graphic memoir of my own. But with the right partner...
Ferris seems like she'd be pretty cool to hang out with, too. I love this New York Times article, in which she says, "It’s a delicious thing, to think about the artists you love. I tend to taste chocolate.”
And: "I never quite became the monster I wanted to be. I feel mostly monstrous as I more become myself. Because the more you become yourself, the more it disturbs other people.”
But perhaps the best part of my collaboration fantasy is getting an advance reader's copy of My Favorite Thing is Monsters, Volume 2.