Hand to Hand Stories

I've been reading Roz Chast's Can't We Talk About Something More Pleasant, a graphic narrative memoir about her parents' getting up in age and eventual passing. It's good; I recommend it. But between it and the comic that my boyfriend is having me read, I'm starting to consider graphic narrative a little bit more closely.

As an art form.

That maybe I could try.

I don't know.

I mean, I've drawn before. And I know my way around Illustrator, InDesign, and Photoshop—enough to create a marketing document or an announcement, anyway. I deeply miss photography (and wonder if there were a way to mix the two—photography and long form writing are so disparate to me). But particularly with drawing.

The way Chast draws is certainly very entertaining and now (and perhaps forever) intertwined with what I think of whenever I think of the New Yorker.  But it's Chast handwriting that really made the memoir for me. There are few things more personal than handwriting; couldn't one say that drawing is an extension of that?