What sets this apart from many of the other middle-school graphic memoirs exploring the challenges young people face is the attention debut author-artist Alexander pays to serious issues such as death, loss, loneliness, poverty, homophobia, and classism. While there are graphic memoirs for young readers where some of these issues are represented, all are present here. Alexander does not shy away from depicting many of the troubles he faced throughout his childhood. He shares the challenges that came from losing both of his parents and details many of the struggles that he faced being raised by his grandparents in a low-income household and attending schools where he was continuously harmed by toxic masculinity. The relatable, candid manner of Alexander's memoir is appealing, and many readers will also appreciate his brightly colored, amiable cartoon artwork, which is detailed, dynamic, and expressive, and plays an important role in making the book and its sometimes heavy topics accessible to young readers. Overall, this is a beautiful, brave, and honest graphic novel that will appeal to many preteens. An excellent addition to graphic-novel collections that already include similar graphic memoirs, like Jarrett J. Krosoczka's Hey, Kiddo (2018).

Damian has come up with a foolproof way to go unnoticed at his new school. He was bullied at his previous school. As seventh grade starts, he decides that if he doesn't speak at his new school, no one will notice him or have anything to bully him about. At home with his loving grandmother and his older brother, he speaks; at school, he's silent even when kids are nice to him. The account of Damian's seventh grade year is interspersed with flashbacks. He had friends, mostly girls until fourth grade, when his girl friends learned they shouldn't sit with a boy. He had a few friends that were boys after that, mostly via video games, but he was always hesitant to open up because he felt so different inside and because of his mother's murder when he was an infant, which has always set him apart. His no-talking plan backfires. He's placed in remedial classes and forced to see a therapist at school. Opening up is not easy, especially when he begins to think that he might actually like some boys. Newcomer Alexander delves into his past to craft a sweet, touching, and at-times scary memoir of grief and loss and coming out (mostly to himself). He situates his younger self in bright cartoon panels, a White boy in fairly diverse classrooms. LGBTQ+ tweens will see their struggles and rejoice in his progression toward self-acceptance. An excellent, important debut. (author's note, resources) (Graphic memoir. 10-16) Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

Clearly and honestly, cartoonist Alexander's debut graphic memoir explores familial loss, social isolation, and sexual identity. At the start of seventh grade in a new school, Damian vows to remain silent. "If I never spoke with anyone I couldn't get hurt, right?" Effectively sequenced flashbacks highlight frequent harassment by classmates and relatives for being "girly" and "sensitive," providing context for Damian's cautious behavior. In contrast, tender and supportive memories of his grandparents, along with a small group of elementary-school friends, offer moments of hope and humor. Having tragically lost their mother at the hands of their father, Damian and his older brother were raised by their grandparents. Throughout this tumultuous childhood, doodling, writing, reading, and video games become a source of escapism and companionship. Feelings of attraction to other boys eventually lead an adolescent Damian to realize that he is gay, but it is not until a liberating conversation with a school therapist that his sexual identity is positively affirmed. The digitally rendered illustrations feature an organic, wobbly pen line and an authentic 1990s-to-early-2000s visual aesthetic. Alexander regularly forgoes representational backgrounds for emotive blocks of colors (red for anger, pink for love, blue for sadness), allowing the main characters to take center stage and drive the narrative -- particularly through facial expressions. An often-heartbreaking but powerful -- and empowering -- story of self-discovery, akin to Curato's Flamer (rev. 11/20) and Krosoczka's Hey, Kiddo! (rev. 9/18). Patrick Gall January/February 2022 p.129(c) Copyright 2022. The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

Gr 7 Up--In this graphic memoir, Alexander examines his early adolescent struggles and offers a takedown of gender norms. Damian and his brother, who are white, grew up under the care of adoptive grandparents following their mother's death. Now in seventh grade at a new school, following some intense bullying, Damian has taken a vow of silence to avoid becoming a target. Flashbacks progress through each grade, leading up to the present. Through the years, Damian is told by classmates, family members, and doctors that he should like "boy things" even when he clearly states a preference for princesses, dolls, and domestic play; boys and girls alike ostracize, tease, and attack him for his feminine tastes, quiet nature, and home situation. Pop culture references to music, movies, toys, and video games highlight the different forms of play and escapism available in the late 1990s to mid-2000s. Alexander's story conveys the lasting effects of the trauma that broke up his family as well as the isolation caused by others' superficial judgment. A few friendships and positive encounters stick, as well as a breakthrough with a school-appointed therapist and the personal revelation that Damian is, in fact, gay. Alexander's artwork is widely accessible, depicting both the effortless joy and casual cruelty of children. Bright background colors and large faces broadcast emotional cues, including a fair amount of tears. An afterword addresses the heavier topics of the narrative and lends some context to Damian's perspective. VERDICT Anyone who considered middle school a social minefield, or questioned gender norms will recognize themselves in Damian's painful journey.--Thomas Maluck, Richland Lib., SC

Debut graphic novelist Alexander explores his childhood as a sensitive boy starting middle school in this melancholy queer coming-of-age memoir. Following the death of Damian's mother, he lives with his brother and maternal grandmother in a small apartment, and is the new kid at a school where "it seemed everyone was like the perfect families you see on old TV shows." To fend off the bullying he's come to expect, the aspiring artist stops speaking on the first day of seventh grade ("I would give them nothing they could use against me"). As Damian copes with the subsequent isolation, the story intersperses contextualizing moments from his past--damaging gender stereotypes, uncomplimentary commentary on his preference for dolls and dollhouses over action figures. Stylized art, with blocky designs and sometimes-wonky proportions, has a handmade feel. A rapid, platitudinal conclusion undercuts the real pain described throughout, but Damian's lows (undergoing bullying, mourning his mother's murder) and highs (getting a cat, realizing his sexual orientation) prompt deep empathy. Ages 10--14. (Sept.)■