Through her words and pictures Forney immediately gets the reader inside her head. Sequential art (stuck-up nerdspeak synonym for comics) is, without a doubt, the correct medium for this story. These two tracks weave in and out smoothly, at times distinct and at other times completely blended. This is simultaneously a memoir of her experience and an examination if one has to be crazy in order to be creative. Throughout the memoir she is incredible open and honest, giving readers remarkable insight into her life and experience managing mental illness. Throughout the book Forney documents struggle through therapy, balancing medication, and the impact of bipolar disorder on her life and work. Marbles is indeed hilarious, and it’s a rough ride. Marbles is an extraordinarily intimate work. I’d thought Forney’s work just wasn’t my thing and I was wrong. Beware pretty blue books right rainbows on them. Sherman Alexie said I’m hilarious on the back cover!” A couple days ago I figured, may as well, let’s dive in. “Come on, read me, yeah it’s about mental illness, but it’s not all bad. Over a few weeks, the sky blue cover stared out at me for a while, slyly whispering. I was already reading some heavy stuff, and I figured it’d be an uncomfortable read. To add to my hesitation, I’ve never been a huge fan of Ellen Forney’s work, whether it’s her comics in the Stranger, or the critically acclaimed Monkey Food or I Love Led Zeppelin.
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