One other benefit of diary comics is that I love rereading them later which is something I rarely do with my written journal entries.

Next week I’ll dive into how to get started making a diary comic of your own—although you don’t really need to wait for my explanation to get started. Just make a comic about something that happened in your day—big or small.

There are also some wonderful Substack creators that talk a lot about illustrated journalling including and so I’d recommend checking them out.

Let me know in the comments: Do you have a diary comic or illustrated journaling practice? I'd love to hear about it—or what's holding you back if you’ve never done it.

If you want to explore working with me to accelerate your work and grow as a cartoonist, here are a few ways I collaborate with creators:

• One-on-One Coaching and Consulting: Learn more here

• Bi-Weekly Mentoring Group Through Sequential Artists Workshop: Learn more here.

Tuck Everlasting Named Best Children Book

I was thrilled to hear from my Taiwanese publisher, Hsaio Lu, that Tuck Everlasting: The Graphic Novel won the “Annual Best Children’s Books Awards” by Best Children’s Books (好書大家讀) in Taiwan. (The English version can be bought here.)

As my author friend pointed out, I’m now an international award-winning creator!

Leif Love

Leif and I had one of our best canicross1 runs this morning at a nearby park dotted with lakes. Leif was focused, ignored the other dogs we encountered, and had the right amount of energy for the whole run. I love when we work well as a team.

Take care and keep creating!

-Katharine

Since I’m always connecting things that happen in my everyday life to my creative practice, I made this follow-up comic:

I don’t always resist feedback like this. Often when I get critique, it’s immediately clear why it’s a good idea (or not) and I accept it. But sometimes I resist it, like in this comic, only to later realize it was a brilliant suggestion that makes the whole work flow so much better.

I’m about to send off a draft of my graphic novel script to fellow kid lit writers for critique and feedback, so this is a good reminder to myself that my initial reaction to feedback isn’t always justified.

Getting outside critique is vital to my creative process in terms of sparking ideas, surfacing issues I’m too close to see, or getting clarity on what’s working and what still needs more attention.

Let me know in the comments: What type of feedback do you find most useful in your creative projects?

If you want to explore working with me to accelerate or find clarity on your own comics or graphic novel there are a few ways I collaborate with creators:

• One-on-One Coaching and Consulting: I offer both hourly and monthly coaching options. Learn more here.

• Bi-Weekly Mentoring Group Through Sequential Artists Workshop: Learn more here.

Book Trailer from the Taiwanese Publisher of My Graphic Novel

My Taiwanese publisher of Tuck Everlasting: The Graphic Novel made this spiffy trailer to promote the traditional Chinese version of my book, which is also sold in China.

I’ve always been curious how the Chinese characters would look since I hand-letter the English text into the landscape or backgrounds. I was relieved to see they did a great job incorporating it into the art.

My graphic novel is also available in English and can be bought here, or wherever books are sold. If you want a signed copy, purchase it from my local indie (who also ships) and let them know you want it signed or personalized in the comments at check-out.

Teen Lit Con

I love doing author visits and last week I presented at Teen Lit Con about adapting classics into graphic novels and the power of working within creative constraints.

Leif Love

Leif, under the spotlight, along the Mississippi River.

Take care and keep creating!

-Katharine

I love seeing these types of pages when reading graphic nov…

Read more

I don’t mean to imply that working in black and white or color is superior by any means. I think they both have their place, and one can work better than the other depending on the subject matter and the artist’s inclination.

I’ve been working with a few comics creators recently who’ve been experimenting making graphic novel pages in both black and white and color. And I’ve been struck at how much stronger their black and white art is. It’s not that they couldn’t get better at color—they absolutely could—but I think limiting the number of creative options can be incredibly helpful in developing as a cartoonist—especially when cartoonists are already making so many creative decisions in terms of story, camera angles, character designs, background, emotions, costume, etc.

I find that working in black and white in comics often makes it easier to:

• Focus on the composition

• See values (light, dark, shadow) which is important in leading the viewer’s eye through a page

• Develop other storytelling muscles like pacing, shot types, and page layout

• Build confidence in your art

• Make decisions

• Print since black and white is so much cheaper than printing in color

Of course, I love working in color because I find it:

• Draws people to the work

• Joyous to create

• Easier to emphasize emotion and mood

• Better for middle grade and younger graphic novels which you rarely see in black and white in the US

Let me know in the comments: What do you enjoy about working—or reading comics—in black and white or color?

If you want to explore working with me on your comic or graphic novel, there are a few ways I collaborate with creators:

• One-on-One Coaching and Consulting: I offer both hourly and monthly coaching options. Learn more here.

• Bi-Weekly Mentoring Group Through Sequential Artists Workshop: Learn more here.

K’s Kettle

In addition to my real life travel in March to Paris, I’ve been traveling a lot in my imagination to Maine, where my work-in-progress graphic novel takes place. So I thought the theme of travel—real or imagined—would be fun for this month’s K’s Kettle: A Cozy Hour of Comic-Making which will be this Tuesday, April 21 at 2pm CST/3pm EST.

​K’s Kettle is my monthly comic-making session for paid-subscribers. Watch me draw live as you work on your own comic at your own pace for about 40 minutes. No pressure—just a welcoming space to create, share, and connect. For the last 15 minutes, for those who want to, we’ll share our comics together. RSVP here.

Leif love

Leif has been compared, not inaccurately, to a kangaroo.

Take care and keep creating!

-Katharine

I’d love to know: what reminds you to slow down and notice beauty in your life?

K’s Kettle: Travel—Real or Imagined

In addition to my real life travel in March to Paris, I’ve been traveling a lot in my imagination to Monhegan Island in Maine, where my work-in-progress graphic novel takes place. So I thought the theme of travel—real or imagined—would be fun for this month’s K’s Kettle: A Cozy Hour of Comic-Making which will be on Tuesday, April 21 at 2pm CST/3pm EST.

​K’s Kettle is my monthly comic-making session for paid-subscribers. Watch me draw live as you work on your own comic at your own pace for about 40 minutes. No pressure—just a welcoming space to create, share, and connect. For the last 15 minutes, for those who want to, we’ll share our comics together. RSVP here.

Leif Love

Poor Leif has had eye infections this Spring, as well as some persisting redness and irritation under his eye that we’re trying to figure out. This is a bit concerning since he only has one eye to begin with, but his spirits are still high.

Take care and keep creating!

-Katharine

Let me know in the comments: How have you managed to free yourself from the pressure to be good at something?

Here I am in Paris, 2002:

And here I am at Smith & Son Bookstore in Paris, 2026:

It was thrilling to see my graphic novel adaptation of Natalie Babbitt’s Tuck Everlasting facing out on the shelf at Smith & Son Bookstore in Paris!

Leif Love

Luckily we have a great dog sitter for Leif when we go away who sends us awesome daily photos.

Take care and keep creating!

-Katharine

Usually, we try to leave the state in March. But this year we’re leaving the country—headed to Paris.

This trip feels extra special because it will be my first time traveling abroad since before COVID.

But I’m also realizing that I feel a bit rusty about international travel. When that happens, my brain tends to cope in a familiar way: perfectionism.

Lately that perfectionism has been showing up as an obsession with packing the right clothing.

One of the things I decided I absolutely needed for Paris was a pair of jeans.

There was just one problem.

I didn’t actually own any jeans. I haven’t for at least ten years.

So the search for jeans turned into a bit of an epic shopping adventure a few days before we left—one that I documented in my journal:

In the end, I found a not-quite-perfect pair for $29. Good enough.

With my jeans secured, it was time to pack—or rather, to draw my packing list:

This idea came from ’s excellent book Draw Your Adventures, which I reread while preparing for the trip. It’s full of encouragement to turn everyday experiences into drawing opportunities—not just big adventures like travel.

One thing that surprised me was that drawing my packing list ended up calming me down.

Seeing everything on the page made me realize that I had plenty of clothes, plenty of art supplies, and that it didn’t really matter all that much if I didn’t pack the perfect things. (Although I did remember to pack underwear and socks, which would have been very disappointing to forget.)

This is often the role drawing plays in my life: when something is making me anxious, drawing it changes the story around it.

Instead of worrying about the trip, I start imagining all the things I might draw when I get there.

Let me know in the comments: What’s the worst thing you’ve forgotten to pack?

Leif love

We are always sad to leave Leif at the dog-sitters, but during mud season, it’s also a relief not to have to deal with his muddy paws for a few weeks.

Take care and keep creating!

-Katharine

I recently tried to switch from the Koh-i-nor Bristol sketchbook I use for my diary comics to a sketchbook with more expensive watercolor paper.

I thought I was finally mature enough as an artist to let myself experiment on nice paper.

Turns out I am not.

My daily journaling stopped. Instead, I was only creating once or twice a week when I felt the art was “worthy” of the watercolor paper.

Since my whole point of art journaling is self-expression, experimentation, and maintaining the creative habit—this was not a good development.

So now I’m back to my Koh-i-nor sketchbook.

And I’m making more art again.

Let me know in the comments: Does anyone else have art supplies that feel a little too nice to use?

Leif Love

Leif also has his own favorite type of paper…

Take care and keep creating!

-Katharine

“We can’t let the f#%*ers take away our joy.”

ICE isn’t gone by any means, but things have been quieter here in Minneapolis lately. Many of us are still figuring out what comes next. In the meantime, I’ve been thinking about how we hold onto joy—even in difficult times.

One joyful moment recently was speaking with esteemed cartoonist for his Substack Live earlier this week. Our conversation touched on the ICE Out Comics movement, my sudden shift into art activism, and the current state of comics and graphic novels.

Kal is someone I deeply respect. He spent years as the political cartoonist for the Baltimore Sun and now draws for The Economist, and shares his comics and insights on his Substack .

There’s something encouraging about conversations with people who have spent decades committed to their craft. Talking with him reminded me how powerful comics can be—and how even when it’s hard to tell if they’re doing anything, they can still help shift the conversation and make a difference. This was something I needed to be reminded of, especially now.

(Recording of our conversation is above if you’d like to watch!)

Another joyful moment came when friends invited us last week to see Yo-Yo Ma perform with the Minnesota Orchestra. What struck me most wasn’t just the music, but the vivacity and feeling with which he played the cello. You almost couldn’t help smiling as you watched Yo-Yo Ma perform and even just walk across the stage—he had such joyful energy—as though he couldn’t believe his luck at being there.

Of course, we felt like the lucky ones for getting to watch him play.

And then there’s Joy Bingo!

During the height of Metro Surge I almost forgot about Joy Bingo. But when I returned to my board recently, I was surprised at how many boxes I could check off. Some of you may remember this practice I’ve shared before: I make a 5×5 grid of small joyful activities to encourage myself to actually do them.

Above is my winter Joy Bingo board that I made during December’s K’s Kettle (my monthly art-making session for paid Subscribers. Sign up for my next one here):

For now, I’m holding onto my friend’s words:

Don’t let the f@#$%rs take away our joy.

Let me know in the comments: what’s been bringing you joy lately?

Leif Love

Leif feeling the joy of freshly cut grass (and modern art).

Take care and keep creating!

-Katharine

Several people asked how the retreats I go on are actually organized, since most of them aren’t run by a formal retreat center. We usually just gather a small group of friends and structure them ourselves.

The good news is that organizing your own retreat doesn’t have to be complicated or expensive. With a little planning, you can create something that gives you many of the same benefits: space to think, time to work, and meaningful conversations with other creators.

Here are a few things that have helped make the retreats I’ve been part of successful:

The people

Choosing the right people is pretty key to a successful retreat. Of course, only go with people you like—or at least people you think you’ll enjoy being around.

I’d recommend a minimum of four people (so if one cancels you still have three). Two could work too, although it doesn’t quite have the same group dynamic. If I did it all by myself, I’m pretty sure I’d go nuts being all alone after a day or two. I’ve gone with up to 10 but the bigger retreats do require more organizational work.

I like to go with people who are at a similar professional stage as me since this creates more of a peer atmosphere. No one takes on the role of the expert, and we often have similar goals. When someone hits a roadblock, someone else has usually been through something similar.

Choosing the location

I usually try to find somewhere free or low-cost. The ideal situation is a cabin or second home that someone in the group has access to. I’ve also done retreats at an Airbnb, or rented part of a summer camp in the off-season.

Ideally, each person has their own private space to work, along with some communal areas for people who want social interactions.

I wouldn’t recommend hosting it at someone in the group’s primary residence. It’s hard for that person not to feel the pressure to host or deal with everyday responsibilities.

I also prefer locations within a few hours of where I live. My goal for a retreat is to work, think, and relax—not to be exhausted from travel or distracted by sightseeing.

Length of the retreat

I usually aim for three nights, which gives enough time to settle in, work, and still have space for conversation and rest.

I’ve also done two-night retreats, which can work well if that’s what people’s schedules allow. I’d love to go longer, but it can be hard for many people—especially those with families—to get away for extended periods.

Even a couple of days can make a real difference. Often it’s just enough time to step out of your normal routine and return home feeling refreshed and full of new ideas.

Proximity to nature

I love trees and wandering around outside, so being able to step outdoors somewhere beautiful is ideal.

I do a lot of thinking while walking, and nature keeps me from feeling cooped up.

Flexible structure

The most common retreat format I do is one where we share lunch and dinner, but mornings and afternoons are unstructured.

People use that time however they want: writing, making art in their room, going for a walk, reading a book, or sketching somewhere outside.

After dinner we usually gather to talk about what we’ve been working on, share work, and offer feedback if someone wants it. That’s my favorite part.

Clear expectations

It’s important to make expectations clear before the retreat.

One helpful thing is to have a short call with everyone beforehand. That way people can talk through the structure, responsibilities, and what they’re hoping to get out of the experience.

A friend of mine once thought he was going to a work-focused retreat and intended to get a lot of writing done, but it turned out everyone else was planning to party all weekend. He had writing deadlines, his computer broke, and he felt stuck there. Not ideal.

So it helps to clarify ahead of time:

• Is the retreat mostly independent work with shared meals and discussion in the evening? (This is usually the type I do)

• Are people planning group “field trips” to draw or write together?

• Is it more of a social hang with fellow artists?

• Does someone want to host a workshop or demonstrate a technique?

None of these approaches are wrong. But it’s much better when everyone arrives with the same expectations.

Personal intention setting

Before a retreat, I like to make a drawing or write a couple bullet points about my intentions for the experience.

Since I started doing this, I’ve enjoyed retreats much more. Setting an intention helps me remember what I actually want from the time.

I also usually make a pact with myself not to check email or social media while I’m there. That’s key for being present.

Handling food

We usually split up food responsibilities among the group so no one has to do the bulk of the work.

People handle their own breakfasts and snacks. Lunch is either something someone prepares or leftovers.

One or two people take charge of dinner each night and plan it ahead of time. I often cook my dinner at home and bring it with me so it just needs reheating—I don’t want to spend a lot of time cooking while on retreat.

A shared Google spreadsheet works well for planning meals so everyone knows what others are bringing—and you don’t end up with twenty avocados (true story).

Why it’s worth doing

For me, the biggest benefit isn’t just the quiet time to work. It’s the feeling of camaraderie—being surrounded by supportive creative friends who understand the challenges of making things.

Over the past couple years, these retreats have given me encouragement when I was stuck, smart feedback that helped move projects forward, and the deep support that comes from people who care about both you and your work.

That combination of solitude and community is rare in everyday life, and retreats create space for it to happen.

I’m curious: have you ever organized your own artist or writing retreat? Or is it something you’d like to try? Let me know in the comments!

Join me for a Substack Live TODAY with The Economist political cartoonist Kal Kallaugher!

Join me TODAY (Sunday, March 8) at noon EST for a Substack Live with esteemed political cartoonist Kal Kallaugher, long-time cartoonist for The Economist, formerly of the Baltimore Sun and more recently tearing up Substack with Kal Draws The Line.

Join our Substack Live

Leif love

Take care and keep creating!

-Katharine

While the expense was part of the reason, the main reason was that I didn’t see the point. Since I already spent most of my days creating graphic novels, I didn’t think I needed to get away in order to make art. I could do that at home, in the quiet and comfort of my own studio, where I have all the tools I need.

But then I moved to Minneapolis in 2020 and quickly became part of the vibrant artistic community here. So when my writer-friends suggested a retreat, I decided to give it a shot.

The retreats we go on aren’t usually anything fancy. We just rent or find a place to stay within a few hours of Minneapolis and structure it ourselves (I’ll talk more about how to make a successful artist or writers in retreat my post next week).

After retreats, I find myself energized, refreshed, and with so many new ideas.

I’ve gone from a retreat skeptic to someone who leaps at the opportunity of a retreat at any chance I get (it’s where I am the weekend this post comes out).

This autumn, I went on my first professionally organized writers retreat through Charlson Meadows1 which was marvelous. There, I made this illustrated haiku:

This haiku is about saying goodbye to my deceased cat Huntington through a wind phone they have on the property. A wind phone is a disconnected rotary phone people use to talk to lost loved ones.

The haiku is really about release which is what retreats are about for me. Releasing patterns, stress, things we hold too tightly.

Here are the five ways I’ve found retreats most helpful:

1. Getting a break from responsibilities opens up space in your mind

When you’re at home, you always have responsibilities and errands you could run. Even if you’re not actually doing those things, they still occupy space mentally. When you go on retreat, you get a break from those responsibilities which helps make space for more creative thought.

2. Changing routine helps change thought patterns

When I’m doing the same thing every day, or in the same place, I tend to fall into the same way of thinking. Being somewhere new and unfamiliar encourages the mind to think differently which is so important to coming up with creative ideas.

3. Being in a calming place calms the nervous system

When you’re somewhere without clutter, your nervous system relaxes and has space to release and hopefully even play a little. This is one of the reasons I often return from retreats feeling refreshed.

4. Soaking in a new landscape expands horizons

There’s something about staring out at vistas that helps me be more expansive towards ideas in my graphic novels. For example, one time I had an epiphany for my story while sitting at an overlook called “Inspiration Point.” This amused me to no end, but the person who named that overlook clearly had the right idea—one could say they were even inspired :)

5. Connecting with other creators nourishes the heart

Since I spend most of my time alone, I always go on retreat with other creators. Being with others who understand what you’re going through creatively and emotionally is so powerful and heart-warming.

If you haven’t been on retreat lately, or have never been one, I encourage you to start planning one of your own. I doubt you’ll be disappointed.

Let me know in the comments what do you enjoy about going on retreat? Or what suggestions do you have for making a retreat of your own?

If you want to explore working with me on your comics or graphic novel project, there are two ways I collaborate with creators:

1. One-on-One Coaching

2. Mentoring Group through Sequential Artists Workshop (SAW)

Star Tribune Article

I appreciate this article in the Minnesota Star Tribune featuring what Minnesotan authors and cartoonists, including myself, are doing in response to the ICE surge in our city.

The article includes one of my comics and this quote from me that I kind of love:

“Cartoonists are an opinionated bunch. We have strong feelings. And we don’t like bullies.”

Truth.

Quietest Places New York City

Watercolor artist and Substacker releases her gorgeous book Quietest Places New York City next week. I was lucky enough to receive an advanced copy of this book and was blown away by the art, hidden gems, and thoughtful research behind it. It’s a must read for people—like me—who get overwhelmed by the stimulation and noise of places like New York City.

Leif Love

After weeks of too warm weather where it was muddy and ugly, we got a gorgeous snowfall which Leif loved too.

Take care and keep creating!

-Katharine

• My favorite tools. See also this post.

• Aging up characters

• Where to publish short comics. This is the recorded workshop on comics and graphic novel publishing I did with Susannah Hainley.

• iPad purchase recommendations (at around 34 minutes)

• Drawing hands

• My favorite thing to draw—emotions…

Read more

Join me tomorrow, Tuesday at 2pm CST/3 pm EST for a K’s Kettle: Ask Me Anything.

Do you have questions about using a certain art material, how to get started with a project, figuring out a process for comics-making, overcoming self doubt, breaking into publishing.... really anything!

This is some of the work I do as a comics coach and mentor, so I figured…

Read more

However, I’m exhausted. It’s taken an emotional toll and it’s just time to refocus on my other work—particularly my graphic novel which has a deadline coming up.

But after being so focused on the I.C.E. Out Comics, it felt strange to just suddenly turn back to my graphic novel.

For example, when I’m done with each stage of my graphic novel, I put a rock in my letterpress tray, a ritual that marks completion and helps me feel a sense of accomplishment.

While I love my letterpress tray ritual, it doesn’t feel right to mark the end of this series of comics.

So I decided to make one final comic to mark the end (maybe) of this series of comics, and also (hopefully) the end of the I.C.E. occupation in Minneapolis.

Sometimes, in order to let something go, you have to commemorate it in some way. And for this project, I did that through art:

But, like the rest of my neighbors, I still don’t have a sense that our work is done. So while I’m thinking of this as a final comic, this is really just a final comic for now.

As I.C.E. increases its spread across the country, I hope that I.C.E. Out Comics continues to tell those stories until I.C.E. truly is out for all of us.

Let me know in the comments: How do you like to mark the end of a project? Do you have a ritual, a piece of art, a poem?

I.C.E. Out Comics Posts:

• Week 1: What Comics Can Do When the News Is Your Neighborhood

• Week 2: The Power of Community—and Cartoonists

• Week 3: A Week in Minneapolis in Comics

• Week 4: What 200 Four-Panel Comics Taught Me About Storytelling

Ask Me Anything (Paid Subscriber Event)

Join me on Tuesday, February 17 at 3PM EST for an Ask Me Anything conversation on Zoom about comics and creative life—just for my paid Substack subscribers.

Bring your questions about getting started, publishing, process, self-doubt, building a creative career, or balancing art and real life. Nothing is too practical or too existential.

I’m a graphic novelist and comics coach, and I’ve spent 15+ years figuring out how to build a creative life. If you’re curious about making comics, publishing, getting started, navigating self-doubt, or just how this whole thing works—come ask.

This is a relaxed, welcoming space. Ask a question, drop one in the chat, or just come listen. All skill levels and stages welcome.

Click the link on this page to register:

Get link

Leif Love

Sometimes Leif sleeps in his bed, sometimes he eats it. It’s versatile that way.

Take care and keep creating!

-Katharine

I’ve been reading so many comics because, along with fellow Minneapolis cartoonists, Jason Walz and Trung Le Nguyen, I created the I.C.E. Out Comics movement. It’s a call to artists asking them to make comics about the impact of I.C.E. on their communities and themselves.

We gave them perimeters of using a specific blue color, dimensions (3:4), and only four-panels each. The comics community has responded in an overwhelming and supportive way with incredibly moving comics coming in from all over the country.

While it’s often painful and heart-breaking to read these comics, we believe it’s an important way to document, spread the word, and process the horrific things we’re seeing in our communities because of I.C.E.

Reading all these four-panel comics has also been a lesson in storytelling. What I see working in short comics also applies to many types of stories—whether novels, film, or graphic novels.

Here are five lessons in storytelling from these short four-panel comics:

1. Keep it focused

In many effective four-panel comics, they stick to making a single main point. Where I see a lot of stories fall short is that they try to do too many things at once and lose track of their core message so the reader isn’t clear what to focus on or what to feel.

Here’s an example of a comic by Drew Brockington that sticks to its deceptively simple message and is so poignant as a result:

Brockington starts the above comic by having his Dad character holding a sign saying “We love our neighbors” and at the end he connects back to the neighbor theme. In the panels in between, we have the Dad talking to his kids about how Alex Pretti was shot, but he isn’t named and very little details are given. It’s just the essentials of what you need to understand the pain in the final panel which packs a powerful punch.

2. Lead the reader through an emotional arc

As humans, we like to read about people who change. A book is (usually) boring if the protagonist stays the same throughout. Showing change in big or small ways is a baisc storytelling technique, but so very important.

In the following comic that I created, I experience a different emotion in each of the four panels:

In panel 1, my characters starts out as excited to be skiing and away from the troubles of I.C.E. in Minneapolis. In panel 2, we’re driving home and I’m happily reporting that I can finally relax. But then, in Panel 3, I’m confused, noticing the unusual formation of vehicles. By Panel 4, I’m startled and chagrined as my spouse points out that the cars were likely I.C.E.

In just a few panels, my character goes on an emotional journey, while moving through different landscapes as well.

3. Don’t tell the reader what to feel

“Show, don’t tell” is an often repeated storytelling maxim for good reason. Letting the reader think and feel for themselves, and not telling them what to think or feel, allows the reader to imagine their own feelings in a situation and feel more emotionally connected as a result.

This comic by Julian Deyo does this extremely well:

Deyo writes about horrific things in places they used to frequent, but their tone is fairly neutral. That voice, in addition to the artistic choice of only showing objects (and not people) allows the reader to better embody the experience for themselves and imagine how they would feel in the same situation—making it more alive for them as a result.

4. Sensory details are powerful

Using senses beyond vision, like sound, smell, taste, and touch, are all extremely effective at bringing a scene to life for the reader in a more visceral way, as demonstrated here by graphic novelist, Jason Walz:

In Walz’s comic we have the sounds of rubber bullets, the smell and weight of tear gas and smoke, and the textual detail of Molly’s hands still shaking as she tells the story. These all make the already terrifying story seem more real and present.

5. The final panel matters the most

I’ve been making four panel diary comics for years and landing the last panel is always something I’ve struggled with. You want that final panel to show change, be funny, reveal a twist, or simply be poignant.

It’s so important to get the final panel right that I will spend days trying to figure out that last panel, as I did with this comic from a scene I witnessed earlier this week:

For the above comic, I realized I need to give context to the scene in order for the final panel to land in a similar way that it landed for me when I saw it and started sobbing.

So I gave those details about the man first—that I thought he was unhoused, that he wasn’t wearing gloves on a winter day, and that he was carrying a booklet. I had to give that context to lead up to the disturbing reveal that he’s carrying his passport as he walked along the side of the road.

If you want to read more I.C.E. Out comics, search #iceoutcomics on Instagram. There are so many moving comics being made every day with each creator sharing their unique voice.

Bonus tip: Make your text large enough and legible! If people struggle to read your comic, they’re already being taken out of the story. Here’s a post I did on other tips for improving lettering since this is something I see cartoonists struggle with frequently.

If you want to read about my progression with the I.C.E. Out comics, here are my past three posts. It’s not been the January I anticipated, but I’m proud to be doing this powerful work.

I.C.E. Out Comics Posts:

• Week 1: What Comics Can Do When the News Is Your Neighborhood

• Week 2: The Power of Community—and Cartoonists

• Week 3: A Week in Minneapolis in Comics

• Week 4: What 200 Four-Panel Comics Taught Me About Storytelling (this post)

• Week 5: How to End a Project When the Story Isn’t Over

Let me know in the comments: If any of these lessons resonate with your own creative practice, I’d love to hear about it. Or any lessons of your own that you notice from reading short comics.

Leif Love

Here’s my spouse and our dog, Leif, during their skijor race last weekend. It’s hard to see, but Leif is sporting the Minnesota flag on his back. I love that he finished next to the only other vizsla in the race.

Take care and keep creating.

-Katharine

Even stuck inside with a head cold, it’s been horrible as I.C.E. continues to occupy and terrorize our city. And I’ve felt torn about making comics about it since part of me just wants to avoid the reality. But another part of me screams that it’s vital to document what’s happening, both for others to see, and for my own mental health.

I find that creating comics about painful things is often cathartic. There’s something powerful about writing a story around something challenging you’ve experienced and then reliving it when drawing it out. Some of the pain is transferred from my body onto the page, and I often feel lighter afterwards.

Some other cartoonists who have joined the I.C.E. Out Comics movement have shared how hard it was to make their comics initially, but report similar feeling of catharsis afterwards. Of course, this isn’t always the case, but when it is, it can be powerful.

Here are my three comics from this week in Minneapolis.

Sunday, January 25, 2026

Monday, January 26, 2026

Alex Pretti’s death felt so close to home since he was killed on a popular restaurant street nearby that we often frequent. I didn’t realize just how close to home it was until I learned this from neighbors:

Friday, January 30, 2026

The following comic started out as one about all the resistance activities to thwart I.C.E. that I’m seeing from my friends and neighbors. There are code names, encrypted apps, secret meeting places... But I realized the heart of that comic was really that I feel like I’m in a movie—and one where I’d like rebels to win and the credits to roll soon.

The final panel shows the “Rebel Loon” which has become a symbol of the resistance here in Minnesota. It’s based on the Rebel Alliance Starbird from Star Wars.

My 2026 motto of “Make it Easy, Make it Fun” feels almost laughable with everything going on in Minnesota, but I’m still trying to let it guide me which is why I used Star Wars in the final comic—it made it fun to draw.

You’ve gotta find joy where you can.

If you are in the position of being able to donate, here are two organizations doing important work in my area: Immigrant Law Center of Minnesota and Monarca.

My ICE Out Series:

• Week 1: What Comics Can Do When the News Is Your Neighborhood

• Week 2: The Power of Community—and Cartoonists

• Week 3: A Week in Minneapolis in Comics (this post)

• Week 4: What 200 Four-Panel Comics Taught Me About Storytelling

• Week 5: How to End a Project When the Story Isn’t Over

Explosion of I.C.E. Out Comics

I’ve been overwhelmed—and thrilled—at the explosion of the I.C.E. Out Comics movement, which I started with fellow Minneapolis cartoonists Jason Walz and Trung Le Nguyen. Two weeks ago, we made a call for cartoonist to create four panel comics about the impact of I.C.E. on themselves and their communities and use #ICEoutcomics (I wrote about it in my past two posts here and here).

And cartoonists certainly answered our call! Over 150 comics have been created in a little over two weeks. It’s was clear that cartoonists were bursting with things to say and we provided the spark and structure. I’ve been struck by the common humanity and shared experiences in the posts. It’s been so moving to read.

We also received some international press coverage in two newspapers in Germany—Taggespiegel and Süddeutsche Zeitung. And the Daily Cartoonist covered it too.

Leif Love

Although this week has been pretty dreadful, one bright spot was Leif and Mike’s skijor race yesterday. It’s always fun to see the antics of the dogs while pulling their owners on cross-country skis. Leif did great!

Take care and keep creating.

-Katharine

I’ve never felt such horror and sadness. But honestly, I can’t write about that now because I’m too upset.

Instead, I’m going to write about how I’ve never felt so proud.

Proud of my neighborhood.

Proud of my state.

Proud of cartoonists.

As I wrote in my last post, a little over a week ago, Minneapolis cartoonists Jason Walz, Trung Le Nguyen and I put out a call to artists asking them to make comics about the impact of I.C.E. on their community. We hope that cartoonists can help bear witness to what’s going on and keep this from spreading further.

The response has been tremendous, with 395,000 people viewing my call to action comic and over 8,000 shares. In only a week, over 60 comics have already been created and shared using #iceoutcomics.

We didn’t expect that cartoonists from around the world—who weren’t experiencing I.C.E. themselves—would offer to make art if people have stories to share.1 People want to help, even from afar.

There have been many moving comics. Here are some that stood out to me:

Rosemary Mosco (Massachusetts)

Christine Lynn Chen (Minnesota)

Haley Weaver (Seattle)

Michiums (New York City)

I’m especially grateful for all the cartoonists who have shared comics, especially since I know how hard it can be to make them when you’re emotionally distressed.

I’ve honestly had to force myself to make the following comics, because it feels too important not to share what’s happening here:

And here’s a different comic I made about the strength of the community I’m seeing on the blocks where I live:

Even thought it’s been hard to make art at a time like this, there’s a catharsis in doing so too. The feelings and the stories no longer feel so lodged as deeply inside of me. All the comics remind me that:

I am not alone.

We are not alone.

And we are not helpless.

Let me know in the comments: Have you seen or made art lately that helped you process what’s happening in the world?

If you are in the position of being able to donate, here are two organizations doing important work in my area: Immigrant Law Center of Minnesota and Monarca.

Leif Love

It’s been extraordinarily cold the last couple weeks, with Friday’s high temperature only reaching -9° F. The frigid cold didn’t keep us—and tens of thousands of Minnesotans—from showing up at an anti-I.C.E. march in downtown Minneapolis on Friday. However, we left Leif at home sleeping and resting, cozy and warm inside.

Take care and keep creating—even when it’s hard.

-Katharine

It seems a bit strange to be hosting a Zoom workshop during this hard time in my city of Minneapolis (please see my post from yesterday on my comics response to it all). But I find my …

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We’ve been facing a huge surge of I.C.E. immigration officers in the Twin Cities area, with more agents than there are local police. So much of I.C.E.’s behavior has been deeply disturbing and on January 7, an I.C.E. agent shot and killed activist Renee Good 2.5 miles from where I live.

The next day, a journalist friend of mine at a national publication asked if I was interested in writing an op-ed about my experience on the ground in Minneapolis. Since I’m not a particularly political person, especially online, I hesitated at first. I also wasn’t sure I had enough to say on what was going on since I spend so much time at home in my studio.

But this was an opportunity to reach a lot of people. And what’s going on with I.C.E. doesn’t feel political to me, it feels like a human rights issue. I believe everyone should be held accountable for their actions.

I thought it over and decided I had an opinion worth sharing. I pitched two ideas for editorial comics—one about a Hispanic man shoveling snow three blocks from my house who was tackled by two I.C.E. agents and whisked away in a car. And the other was a comic about my complex feelings about Minneapolis, both the good and the bad. They preferred the latter, but ended up passing on it since they weren’t technically set up to publish comics. I ended up pitching it to the Washington Post who bought it on Saturday morning. I worked intensely on it all on it all weekend and it went live on Monday:

This comic received far more attention than I normally get for my posts—over 50,000 views on my Instagram and 27,000 on the Washington Post’s Instagram—which was unheard of for me.

Although most of the reactions were positive or thoughtful, I also got my first hate emails, DMs, and nasty messages in the comments. I knew that was to be expected, but I’m a sensitive person so it was still hard. Here’s a diary comic I made about it:

After the Washington Post comic went out, I had to step back from social media for a few days to recover both from the vitriol and exhaustion of creating the piece in such a short period of time.

The situation in my city continued to deteriorate with a Venezuelan man shot in the leg by I.C.E. on Wednesday night, and I felt like I needed to do something.

However, I’m not particularly well suited to a lot of traditional forms of protest or aid. My main skill is making comics which felt so ineffectual in the face of everything.

But then I thought back to the Washington Post piece which so many people saw. I realized: I have the power to reach people through my comics, more power than I ever realized.

I saw that my friends in other states didn’t know the severity of the situation here. I thought of Art Spiegelman’s Maus and what an impact it had in depicting something incredibly painful—the Holocaust—but still people read it and the comics format has a lot to do with that.

There’s a long history of comics as a form of resistance. They’re powerful communicators of experience, emotions, and humanity. Comics impact people in a different way than photos, videos, or writing can.

I thought to myself, Minneapolis has a big comics community. We need to share what we’re seeing through comics and do it in some unified way.

But I wondered if I was brave enough to take action? Was I strong enough to face more hatred online? And was my mental health good enough to handle all that? I decided to sleep on it on on Wednesday night and see how I felt in the morning.

Upon waking up this Thursday morning, I still felt like I needed to do something. And I realized that I could handle whatever came from it. I also had the skills both as an artist, activator, and connector to get something started.

So on Thursday, I called up my friend, cartoonist Jason Walz (The Flip Side), and he agreed we needed to take action. He was even more disturbed than I was with what he was seeing as a public school special ed teacher. Jason wrote:

Just this week, I witnessed two children taken away by ICE a block from where I teach. Everyday, from my classroom window, I see people violently and dramatically pulled into vehicles. Only 40 percent of our students are now attending classes because they are afraid to leave their homes, which means we now collect donations all day long to deliver money and goods to their families… I attended a protest planning session in a church basement only for us to discover that someone from ICE was there.

We knew we needed to get more cartoonists involved so we reached out to Trung Le Nguyen, another Minneapolis cartoonist (The Magic Fish), and Nate Powell (March, a graphic novel about civil rights icon Senator John Lewis). They both swiftly agreed to be involved. Nate stressed the importance of getting this out fast so people could see these stories before it was too late.

Trung, Jason, and I rapidly brainstormed ways to get the word out in flexible and effective way. We came up with the idea to put a call out to cartoonists and artists to make four-panel comics about the personal impact I.C.E. is having on their lives. We realized we needed to make the request flexible so everyone could create in their own way, on their own timeline, and reach the widest amount of people quickly, and do it all without needing permission or oversight.

We created some constraints to cut down on the decision making an artist would need to make, and to make it cohesive and readily identifiable: Four panels, use the same blue color, use certain hashtags like #iceoutcomics, and 3:4 dimensions.

Trung created this graphic about it to include at the end of any comic to explain the project:

And on Friday, we started releasing comics on it, including my post which has gotten 222,000 views thus far and an outpouring of interest:

Here’s cartoonist Jason Walz’s comic:

It’s only been two days, but the comics are already starting to come in from strangers (find them by using #ICEoutcomics on Instagram). Cartoonists from around the world are offering to make comics with other people’s stories since they haven’t personally experienced this. It’s been overwhelming and heartwarming to see the outpouring of the community.

I never expected to do something like this, but I felt a moral imperative to do it.

Now we’ll see where it goes!

If you are interested in donating to help immigrants in Minnesota, here are two organizations doing good work in the area: Immigrant Law Center of Minnesota and Monarca.

Of course, we’d appreciate any help spreading the word of #ICEoutcomics.

I.C.E. Out Comics Posts:

• Week 1: What Comics Can Do When the News Is Your Neighborhood (this post)

• Week 2: The Power of Community—and Cartoonists

• Week 3: A Week in Minneapolis in Comics

• Week 4: What 200 Four-Panel Comics Taught Me About Storytelling

• Week 5: How to End a Project When the Story Isn’t Over

K’s Kettle

It seems strange to be hosting a Zoom workshop during this time, but I love my K’s Kettle, my monthly art-making session for paid subscribers. We’ll be making short comics about pets. I need something light and fun during this hard time.

No experience necessary to join—just bring yourself and something to draw with. It’s a low-pressure space to experiment, play, and connect. The live hour-long Zoom session is on Tuesday, January 20 at 2pm CST/3pm EST. This session is only for paid subscribers who can sign up using the link found in this post.

Leif Love

Since it’s been tough here, and in many parts of the world, here’s an older picture of Leif—basically the cutest puppy ever:

Take care and keep creating!

-Katharine

However, I ended up having to throw away many of those early graphic novel pages—and all that work—as the plot evolved, or because of clarity or pacing issues.

All that changed when I took a weeklong graphic novel course with cartoonist Paul Karasik at The Center for Cartoon Studies, and he introduced me to the concept of making thumbnail drawings—tiny drawings of each page. It’s such a simple process, but it was mind-blowing since it helped give clarity and structure to my graphic novels and it’s become one of my favorite parts of the graphic novel process.

The point of thumbnails is to plan in a non-precious and loose way in the beginning in order to figure out what works and what doesn’t, saving you time later on. That will look different depending on how your brain works and what medium you’re working in whether writing, illustration, design, film, or comics.

I’m going to jump into explaining how I make my thumbnails, which is a bit different from how I was taught. So much of learning to make graphic novels (or any kind of art) is figuring out what part of the process works for you and what doesn’t. So if making thumbnails the way I do—or at this size—doesn’t feel good to you, take what’s useful from this post and leave the rest.

What are thumbnail drawings?

Thumbnail drawings are simply tiny sketches of what happens on each page of a graphic novel. Thumbnails help to plan and write before getting too attached to the art. Because of their tiny size, they encourage experimentation and iteration, which is how I’ve learned I work best. And it saves you time by fixing problems early in the process rather than later on when it would take a lot more time to make those changes.

This is an example of a thumbnail sketch from the start of my Tuck Everlasting: The Graphic Novel:

I write text underneath the drawings stating the major action and subactions on those specific pages. This helps ensure you’re not trying to cram too much onto a page as is often the case when people start out making graphic novels.

My thumbnail drawings are usually about 1.5 inches tall and are created very quickly—usually within a few minutes. Sometimes I’ll make multiple versions on a piece of scrap paper before settling on one I like best.

I always work in page spreads—seeing both the left and right page at the same time— since that’s how my work will appear in a final book. The composition and pacing of a graphic novel is very dependent on if the art is on the right or left page. If you’re interested in learning more about that, read my post about page turns.

In the above thumbnail example, I’ve written “Excitement” and “Annoyance” on the top of each page. These are the emotions I want to convey and I write them there as a reminder to myself since there are many ways I can enhance those emotions through my comics whether with shot type, perspective, color, body language, etc.

I lay out all the thumbnails for each chapter on a 17” x 11” sheet of paper since I like to be able to see the arc of a full chapter at one time:

Once I have thumbnails of all the chapters done, I have a blueprint of the whole book:

When do thumbnail drawings get made in the graphic novel process?

I start thumbnailing after I have a sense of the overall story—usually once I have a detailed synopsis or outline. I work on it concurrent with my script. As I’m visualizing the scene for my thumbnails, I try to capture that in my script where I add in any details I might not have room for in the thumbnails or might forget later on.

In my thumbnails, I always draw in the speech bubble ovals, since those take up a lot of room on the graphic novel page. As I do that, I’m writing the specific dialogue in my script document. Each page of my thumbnail matches a page of the script which means page 46 of my thumbnails is page 46 of my script and also page 46 of the finished graphic novel. This makes organization a lot easier.

Eventually, the thumbnail above became pencil sketches, then lined art, then watercolored by hand, and scanned back in to be this page spread in the finished book:

Read more about my overall process making watercolor graphic novels here.

How do you create thumbnail drawings?

As with much of my process, I like to switch between digital and analogue as I work. I start in Adobe Illustrator, making side-by-side rectangles which represent page spreads. My chapters are usually around 16-24 pages so I add or subtract pages depending on how long the chapter needs to be for the story.

This is how my thumbnail pages look at first in Illustrator for The Great Gatsby: A Graphic Novel Adaptation:

You could easily create these rectangles in another drawing program, or just draw them out by hand on a piece of paper. There’s absolutely no need to go out and purchase Adobe Illustrator for this!

Next, underneath the rectangles, I digitally write in the major actions and subactions that will take place on that page. I call this stage my “written thumbnails” since I spend a while moving around the text before I even start drawing. I change text to red when I’m uncertain whether it will work or not.

Once I’m generally happy with the actions happening on each page, I print them out and draw in the thumbnail sketches using a mechanical pencil. I like to use a real pencil here since it prevents me from getting too detailed as I would be apt to do digitally when I could zoom in indefinitely. The purpose of thumbnails isn’t beautiful art, but figuring out the story.

By drawing the story out, I’m able to see what needs more or less space or needs to be moved around. Sometimes I actually cut them out and paste them elsewhere.

When working on The Great Gatsby: A Graphic Novel Adaptation, thumbnailing made me realize my story had to be a whopping 40 pages longer than I’d originally planned. Thumbnailing worked so well that my editors only had one pacing change in the whole 228 page graphic.

Thumbnails are applicable to many forms of creativity, including writing. If I’d taken my own advice when writing this post and created a rough outline first (the writing equivalent of thumbnails), I would have gotten it done much sooner and with less struggle. Instead I ended up spending much more time cleaning up and rearranging the document than I would have if I’d just started with a bit of plan.

But I find I have to keep learning the same lessons again and again in various ways of my creative life. It’s all part of the process. Maybe next week I’ll thumbnail first!

Let me know in the comments: How do you like to plan (or not) for your creative projects?

If you’re interested in finding guidance and direction with your comics or graphic novel projects, there are a few ways I work with creators:

1. One-on-One Coaching: Get constructive feedback, publishing guidance and accountability with my comics and graphic novel coaching. Learn more here.

2. Mentoring Group: Every other week I lead a small supportive mentoring group on Zoom through Sequential Artist Workshop. Learn more here.

Leif love

Take care and keep creating!

—Katharine