A relatively new face on the American literary scene, Kristen Radtke has been recognized for her unique take on the genre of nonfiction. Her first book, Imagine Wanting Only This, is a graphic memoir – an essay based on the author’s life told through a series of illustrations that are blocked out in panels. In essence, the piece reads like a simplistic comic book, but instead of superheroes or cartoon characters it centers on Radtke and her life leading up to the book’s publishing. While many authors are known for writing essays and memoirs about their own experiences, Radtke’s approach to telling these stories in a comic book-like form has earned her a reputation as a “graphic memoirist.” Since Imagine Wanting Only This will be celebrating its first anniversary this month, it seems appropriate that Radtke recently paid Penn State Harrisburg a visit to talk about this unique book.

The plot of Radtke’s graphic memoir lets readers experience the loss of her uncle to a genetic heart condition that the author fears she may also contend with later in life. It also tells the story of her fascination with ruins and abandoned sites, chronicling her early twenties when she traveled the world in search of answers. It’s a very personal tale with a message about living one’s life, but it has been criticized as being “boring” and slow-paced. Maybe this is because the types of stories told in graphic novels tend to be fictional, and even if they’re grounded in a realistic setting they still have a plot and pacing that has been carefully designed without the limitations of adhering to real events.

In my own opinion, the book has other downfalls. As someone who grew up reading American comic books with smooth, detailed, vibrantly colored illustrations that pack a lot of detail and depth alongside Japanese manga with their clean black-and-white style, consistent lines, and dynamic panel layout, the visual component of Radtke’s memoir felt lacking. Her art style is simplistic; her lines are inconsistent and rough on the eyes, and the faces she draws are always located somewhere in the uncanny valley. Her panel layouts are rigid and sterile. Unfortunately, this makes the graphic component of her work feel like a gimmick to garner attention. Her writing, on the other hand, is fantastically crafted, and does not get enough of a chance to shine through since she insists on visual storytelling. Along with the published book, I had the privilege of reading a much shorter piece – an excerpt modified to read as a standalone graphic essay that was published in a literary journal on which Penn State’s own Professor Jen Hirt worked. This piece featured much more narration, and while I originally thought it defeated the purpose of visual storytelling, I’m now glad that I got to see such large chunks of Radtke’s writing. I would love to see her write a straightforward essay with no illustrations at all.

The book itself aside, I want to discuss Radtke’s appearance on campus. Unfortunately, it was a slightly disappointing experience. She read a short excerpt from the book, a brief audience-led Q&A session followed, and then she signed books for anyone who wanted to stay after. There was no discussion, no talk with the audience about how and why she came to write her first graphic novel, no answers to the questions that I didn’t have. I guess I expected that she would have some sort of short presentation prepared, but if the audience hadn’t done their best to ask the author questions, then the entire affair would have been pitifully short.

In a course that I’m taking this semester on nonfiction, the aforementioned Professor Hirt explained to us on the first day the differences between a reader and someone who reads. One of her main points was that a reader analyzes the text and comes up with questions, answering what he can for himself. By comparison, someone who reads waits for the interpretations to be handed to him in class the next day. In this instance, perhaps the problem was that I was waiting to be handed answers. It’s such a rare opportunity to get to meet an author face to face and ask them about their work, and it was one that I squandered.

So to all the people who read this post, I say: don’t just read; be a reader. Visiting author events are what you make of them. They can be mandatory slogs, disappointments, an opportunity for knowledge, or the experience of a lifetime. Whatever you’re reading, even if you don’t like it, always ask yourself why and try to find meaningful questions. You never know when you might have the opportunity to ask those questions to the author herself.