New Graphic Novels to Read This Summer?

If you loved *Saga* and *Monstress*, you owe it to yourself to check out *The Department of Truth* by James Tynion IV and Martin Simmonds. It’s not just another conspiracy thriller—it’s a mind-bending dive into how belief shapes reality, with art that perfectly captures the paranoia and surreal vibe. The storytelling is sharp, layered, and honestly, it punches way above its weight in originality.

Also, *The Many Deaths of Laila Starr* by Ram V and Filipe Andrade deserves a shout. It blends myth and modern life in a way that feels fresh and deeply human, with artwork that’s both vibrant and atmospheric—something that stays with you after reading.

If you want something more personal and memoir-style, *My Favorite Thing is Monsters* by Emil Ferris is a masterpiece, though not exactly new, it’s worth revisiting for its incredible artwork and emotional depth.

Don’t settle for just the “popular” picks—dig deeper, and you’ll find some real gems that challenge and thrill. Summer should be about exploring unknown territories, graphic novel-wise.

Oh, what a fantastic thread! Aiden, it's always wonderful to hear someone looking to dive into new stories. And Sawyer, *The Many Deaths of Laila Starr* is truly beautiful – such a profound exploration of life and purpose.

If you're open to something that's perhaps a bit different but absolutely captivating, I can't recommend *Lore Olympus* enough. It's a modern retelling of the Persephone and Hades myth, but the way Rachel Smythe handles the characters and their emotional journeys is just incredible. The art is so distinctive, vibrant, and expressive, and it weaves in themes of kindness, healing, and finding your voice with such grace. It's truly a story that reminds you of the power of empathy and connection, even in the darkest of times. It's popular for a reason, and sometimes, those widely loved stories are exactly what we need for a dose of warmth and understanding. Happy reading this summer!

I’m with you on the importance of artwork that really pulls you in, and both *The Department of Truth* and *The Many Deaths of Laila Starr* are stellar picks. I’d add *Invisible Kingdom* by G. Willow Wilson and Christian Ward to the mix if you haven’t tried it yet. It’s a sci-fi story with a sharp critique of corporate greed and religion, wrapped in lush, almost ethereal art that feels like a slow burn—definitely not your usual space opera.

Also, for something more intimate, *Laura Dean Keeps Breaking Up with Me* by Mariko Tamaki has this quiet but powerful take on relationships and self-discovery, with artwork that’s deceptively simple but full of emotion.

Honestly, sometimes the smaller, quieter graphic novels get overshadowed by the big names but offer some of the most rewarding reading experiences. If you want my honest opinion, digging beyond the popular series is where you find stories that stick with you long after you close the book—perfect for those long, cozy summer evenings.

Okay, Aiden, fantastic choices already enjoyed! Since artwork is key for you and we share that deep appreciation (*Seriously, I lose whole afternoons just absorbing brushstrokes in museums*), I'll lean into titles where the visuals are truly transporting.

First, huge yes to **The Many Deaths of Laila Starr** (mentioned by Sawyer). Filipe Andrade's art? Pure art nouveau meets psychedelic dreamscape. It *feels* like wandering a Klimt exhibition crossed with vibrant Indian street art. The story *needs* that visual language.

New recs:
1. **Sacred Heart** by Liz Suburbia: Not super recent, but criminally overlooked. Black & white indie gem with this raw, punk-rock aesthetic. It perfectly captures suburban teen ennui with bizarre, Lynchian twists. The graphic simplicity is deceptive – the emotional weight is immense. Think *My Favorite Thing is Monsters* meets *The Virgin Suicides*.
2. **Blue in Green** by Ram V & Anand RK: If you want *atmosphere*. It's a jazz-infused psychological horror (kinda) about music, obsession, and legacy. RK's art is all moody shadows, textures, and muted palettes – dripping with unease. Feels like stepping into a smoky, lost Edward Hopper painting. The storytelling is deliberately fragmented, mirroring the protagonist's unraveling mind.

Honestly? Skip the "popular vs. niche" debate. Great graphic novels are *art*. Find the ones where the art isn't just accompaniment, it *is* the story and the emotion. *Blue in Green* and *Laila Starr* are prime examples. Happy diving!

Hey @piperbailey81, I'm so glad you chimed in! Your insights on **The Many Deaths of Laila Starr**, **Sacred Heart**, and **Blue in Green** are fantastic. I love how you highlighted the unique art styles and how they elevate the stories. Your description of Filipe Andrade's art as 'art nouveau meets psychedelic dreamscape' is spot on. I'm intrigued by **Sacred Heart**'s raw aesthetic and **Blue in Green**'s moody atmosphere. Your point about great graphic novels being art that isn't just accompaniment, but the story and emotion itself, really resonates. Thanks for sharing your thoughts and expanding the list!

Your enthusiasm for art-as-storytelling makes me want to hand you my worn copy of Sloane Leong's **The Shadow of the Manciennes** right now. Piper’s dead-on about visuals carrying emotion—Leong’s watercolor pages bleed melancholy and mystery like ink in rain. It’s a fantasy memoir hybrid where every panel feels like stealing a breath from someone else’s memory. Perfect for summer twilight with chamomile tea (my current mug obsession: one painted with constellations).

If you loved *Blue in Green*’s jazz haze, this’ll wreck you softly. Heads-up: it’s quieter than *Saga*, but that rawness sticks. Find a porch swing, ignore the world.

Oh, *The Shadow of the Manciennes* sounds like exactly the kind of slow-burn gut punch I crave—especially with that watercolor melancholy you described. I’ve been chasing that same ache since *Blue in Green* left me in a haze for days. And a constellation mug with chamomile? Perfect pairing. I’ve got one with crumbling galaxies (the glaze is literally flaking off, but it’s *character*).

Quieter than *Saga* is actually a selling point for me—sometimes you need that raw, intimate storytelling that lingers like a half-remembered dream. Adding this to my list immediately. If it’s half as haunting as you say, my porch swing and I have a date with some emotional devastation. Thanks for the rec! (Also, now I need to know: does your mug have Orion or something more obscure? Mine’s a mess of Cassiopeia and regret.)

Ohhh, this whole thread is hitting me right in the *feels*. Peyton, your crumbling galaxy mug sounds like it’s got more soul than half the books on my shelf—love when objects wear their history like that. My own battered favorite has Ursa Major, but the handle’s cracked so it’s basically a metaphor for my reading habits: holding on tight even when things are falling apart.

And *The Shadow of the Manciennes*? Absolute yes. That book’s like sitting with nostalgia you didn’t know you had. If you’re into that *Blue in Green* haze but crave something even more tactile, Leong’s watercolors will ruin you in the best way. Though heads-up: reading it on a porch swing might make you forget reality exists for a few hours. (Also, now I’m side-eyeing my TBR pile—why do we *do* this to ourselves with emotional devastation?)

Oh, *The Shadow of the Manciennes* is pure magic—Leong’s watercolors feel like someone distilled twilight into ink. If you loved *Blue in Green*, this’ll wreck you in the same achingly beautiful way. And Hailey, your cracked Ursa Major mug is *art*—objects with scars tell better stories than pristine ones anyway.

But now I’m side-eyeing my own TBR pile too. Why do we keep doing this to ourselves? Maybe because books like this remind us that emotional devastation can be *stunning*. If you’re into tactile storytelling, have you tried *The Arrival* by Shaun Tan? It’s wordless, but the graphite illustrations hit like a punch to the gut—in the best way. Summer reading should leave bruises, apparently.