Lynda Barry is the queen of hermits. A Wisconsin neo-Buddha, she lives on a remote farm with a wood-burning stove and only her husband around for company. Who better, then, to talk artists out of self-effacing holes than someone who has forged a warm home at the very heart of solitude? Barry studied under Marilyn Frasca at Evergreen College, where she befriended Simpsons creator Matt Groening. Her career burgeoned soon thereafter with the creation of Ernie Pook's Comeek, but her later decline in popularity prompted a period of total withdrawal. That is, until boutique Montreal publishing house Drawn & Quarterly rediscovered her and released What It Is.

In this book, Barry chronicles the methods she employs to combat her looming depression. She offers it as an artistic-therapy guide called "Writing the Unthinkable." To the would-be artist, Barry explains: "The difference between lying and pretending is that when you pretend no one gets hurt." Invoking childhood imaginary friends, she instructs readers to find an image from the past and then follow it — believe in memories and honor the mundane, because, as she says, "the little things are what we remember when someone dies." In other words, follow that flavorful memory of chocolate ice cream from when your father took you to celebrate a good report card, then gaze at the image, look around you, and write down everything you see. This type of immersive practice helps writers to begin.

What It Is also records confessions from an artist nearly undone by the trials of assumed normalcy. The book's autobiographical sections evoke an acute sensation of pain, but this desperation serves as a catalyst for expression. The "guide to writing" activity section helps students revisit painful childhood memories and mine them for wisdom, encouraging the discovery of self as a means of transcendence. Halfway between an art book and a self-help guide, this graphic novel will empower anyone who has ever contemplated a creative future. Barry simply reminds us that art is not good or bad; it's just what it is.

-Robyn Hillman-Harrigan