Lauren Haldeman

You haven’t really experienced how weird and beautiful the world is until you see it through Lauren Haldeman’s eyes. These beautiful diary comics by the award-winning poet offer a fresh, humorous, and emotionally resonant perspective on the wonders and weirdness of everyday life. Following the artist and her family—three humans, three cats, and one dog—through twelve months of morning coffees, late night TV, laundry folding, and walks in the woods, Wild That We're Alive invites the reader to marvel at the wonder and weirdness of the ordinary. Depicting herself as a wolf on the page, Lauren embraces the moniker “Momboy”: part responsible child-rearing adult and part lovable feral kid. In her particularity, she is all of us: grappling with anxieties, awed by the little things, and ready to throw her hands up and laugh or cry in the face of social media, squirrels, politics, and figuring out what to have for dinner. In these pages, Lauren intersperses her diary comics, pithy observations, and philosophical musings with a handful of painterly full-bleed illustrations to show the passing of the seasons. Like a Midwestern, sweatpants-wearing Roz Chast, Lauren portrays herself and those around her with affectionate self-deprecation—occasionally grumpy, rarely pretty, but always real. For fans of Lucy Knisley’s portrayals of life with both cats and children and Julia Wertz’s explorations of the ways we struggle and succeed in the work of caring for ourselves and others, Wild That We're Alive is a debut book from an exciting new voice in comics.

"Curious, lonely, mournful, haunted, and strangely funny."—Leslie Jamison, author of the NYT bestseller The Empathy Exams In her extraordinary graphic novel—which masterfully incorporates poetry and elements of memoir—Lauren Haldeman layers the warfare of soccer over the battlefields now called Bull Run Regional Park, where, growing up, her soccer team would practice and compete. The park and surrounding town of Fairfax Station Virginia set the landscape for the book, where the narrator regularly encounters spectral visions of wounded soldiers and very real artifacts of war— “wounded wraiths and faceless shapes” float in her hallway at night, and bullet shells, buttons, and human bones surface around the soccer fields in daylight. The narrator turns to poetry and history to make sense of the town and its bloodshed, of its forever attachment to injustice and its inability to restore erased identities. Team Photograph is a journey from research to illumination, and the result is a tender yet powerful reckoning of time and place, proof that the past and the present are inexorably fused together.