How to Draw a Secret by Kendra Fortmeyer caught my eye not just because of its inviting title but also because of the intricate dance between family dynamics and cultural exploration that the story promises. As someone who has always been fascinated by how art can shape our understanding of identity and relationships, I was eager to dive into Cindy’s world—a world filled with both vibrant colors and complicated emotions.
At the heart of this charming graphic novel is Cindy, a young artist navigating the murky waters of her family’s secrets. Living in sunny California with her two older sisters, Jess and Em, and a mother who is intent on keeping family matters under wraps, Cindy’s life takes a complicated turn when her estranged father reaches out with the news of her Nai Nai’s passing in Taiwan. What should be a simple task—creating a project for Mrs. Tembrock’s class about “What Family Means to Me”—becomes a tumultuous journey of self-discovery and understanding as Cindy grapples with her emotions, her drawings, and the revelation that her father has moved on in a way they never anticipated.
The exploration of family in How to Draw a Secret is beautifully rendered. Fortmeyer captures not only the complexities of familial ties but also the layers of culture that define them. My heart ached for Cindy as she faced the tension of wanting to share her family’s reality while grappling with her anger and disappointment towards her father. The balance of these themes—private grief, public expectation, and the struggle to articulate a “perfect” picture of an “imperfect” family—resonated deeply with me, reminding me of my own experiences navigating family legacies.
One of the standout elements of the narrative was the way Fortmeyer employed the medium of graphic storytelling to weave together Cindy’s drawings. The illustrations felt like a window into her soul, a vibrant and honest expression of her feelings that words sometimes failed to convey. The pastel color palette, particularly that soothing shade of green, added a contemporary flair that felt very much reflective of this decade. I found my own creativity ignited while reading, eager to pick up a pencil and create something that expresses my own emotions.
While I appreciated the depth of the story, I also found myself echoing a concern: the prevalence of heavy themes in graphic novels. Characters in stories like Fortmeyer’s often face emotionally challenging circumstances, raising the question of whether there’s space for joyful narratives in this genre. Yet, despite this somber backdrop, How to Draw a Secret retains a sense of hope, showcasing that even amid turmoil, there are opportunities for connection and understanding.
If you’re a reader who has ever felt caught between worlds or longed to give voice to unspoken family truths, I wholeheartedly recommend How to Draw a Secret. This book will be particularly resonant for young readers and tweens grappling with similar dilemmas, or for anyone interested in the cultural elements of identity. It’s a tender exploration of how we anchor ourselves in places and people—sometimes against the odds. In diving into Cindy’s narrative, I found a reflection of my own quest for belonging, making this reading experience not just enjoyable but profoundly impactful.