A frustrating book. Parts were very relatable because the author and I must be about the same age, have similar interests based on the pop culture references, and were both raised partly in Wisconsin. And he really drew me in with the way we differ, giving his perspective on being the son of a Native American mother and an Irish American father, but just when things are getting interesting in how one might cope with that multiracial heritage, the book turns into yet another testimony about alcoholism, recovery, and sobriety.

"I'm getting the feeling that women don't like drunks as much as Bukowski says they do . . . " thinks Jim Terry at one point, and frankly this reader doesn't like them either. I detached from the standard descent to rock bottom and back narrative as it just went on and on for 100 pages. By the time he is able to deal with other things in his life, the book is practically over.

In the penultimate chapter, I really balked at the artistic choice of dealing with the huge impact participation at the Standing Rock Dakota Access Pipeline protest had on him by retreating from the traditional graphic novel format used in the rest of the book and making that chapter almost entirely text-based. What could have been one of the most visually striking passages in the book doesn't even average one spot illustration per page.

That chapter also highlights another problem with the book. Terry travels to the protest with Wetha, one of his "favorite people." A favorite person who has not previously been mentioned until now on page 200 and who is not distinguished at any point as either a friend, relative, or romantic partner. Wetha is just there until she is gone, leaving me to wonder why she was there at all. The focus is so narcissistic, that this is how most side characters are treated; we barely learn their names, much less anything about their personalities. He does a little better with his parents, but even they disappear for large periods of time and barely have the intervening years of their lives sketched out. Mom lies down on a sofa on page 84 and apparently stays there until she is needed for a big scene on page 192.

I'm on the borderline of rating this two-stars, but I find myself grateful for the many little nuggets that turned up while tunneling through Terry's life. And I liked the art, so I might seek out the Crow book he did with James O'Barr. ( )

An autobiographical graphic novel, this is Terry's story of the hardships of being half White and half Native American, his dysfunctional family, seeing his parent's alcoholism, and then becoming an alcoholic himself.
While the artwork is very good, I found the story to wear thin by his college years. Nearly every page features the main character having a meltdown over something, even normal teenage insecurities are amplified and overwrought. To me, a few touches of humor here and there would have been a big relief, as at 231 pages, this is the longest graphic novel I've read, and the misery is unrelenting. ( )