Monday, January 8th, 2007
Last week I posted “Getting Lucky,” a memoir-in-progress I admired, in part, for its total divergence from anything familiar to me. Today, I’m ridiculously excited to post an excerpt from “Lucky,” an already-published collection of autobiographical short stories in graphic novel form. The appeal of this one is just the opposite: I think author/artist Gabrielle Bell may be sketching from a tiny drafting table inside my brain.
In simple line drawings and clear, evocative prose, Bell documents life as a twentysomething New York artist with both universal relatability and her own unusual perspective. Sure, there is angst and self-doubt, ambition and small victories, but there is also the quest for the perfect loft-bedded room in a Brooklyn apartment full of strangers. Bell covers a series of menial day jobs, but prefers nude modellng and jewelry assembly to waitressing and espresso-pressing. She captures the mundane rhythms, instability, and ennui of young New York creative life, while making it completely engaging and sometimes strangely lovely.