c.2023, Well House Books, Indiana University Press                $24.00                             196 pages

It didn’t arrive in a package.

It wasn’t wrapped in fancy paper. It didn’t arrive with cake or candles. And yet, the gift you got, that thing that someone gave you was better than anything that could’ve come in a pretty box. It was bigger than you ever expected. As in the new memoir, “Lucky Medicine” by Lester W. Thompson, the gift was a life-changer.

Born and raised in Indianapolis, Lester Thompson grew up with “rules” that his Southern-born parents instilled in him all his life. Even though Jim Crow racism wasn’t entrenched in the North like it was in the South, such rules were “the frame of reference.”

And that lent mystery to a very curious relationship Thompson’s father had with a white Jewish man, Mr. Goodman. Cal Thompson cut Goodman’s hair in the privacy of Goodman’s home; Thompson sometimes accompanied his father there, but he never fully understood the friendship between the two men. He says “It didn’t occur to me to wonder…”

When he was thirteen, he learned the truth: he was named after Goodman, who was his father’s closest friend. Furthermore, Goodman was Thompson’s godfather and he’d made a vow to pay for Thompson’s entire college education.

That he was going to be a doctor someday was another thing Thompson had known all his life. His father, an authoritarian alcoholic, never left any room to question it. And so, after high school graduation, Thompson headed to IU in Bloomington, Indiana.

It was an eye-opener, in many ways.

An only child, Thompson had to learn how to share. He had to learn to live with white people next door, and how to study for classes that seemed impossible to ace. He fell in love, and fell again. And he watched the world change as the Civil Rights Movement began.

“I will never know what prompted Mr. Goodman to make his gift,” Thompson says. “But in the end, I suppose, all that matters is that he did.”

Sometimes, change can come with a big ka-BOOM. Other times, it sneaks in the back door and sits quietly. That mixture’s what you get with this unique memoir, “Lucky Medicine.”

Unique because while racism figures into author Lester W. Thompson’s story, it’s not a very big part, considering the mid-last-century setting. The Movement is barely a blip on the radar; only a handful of troubles with white people are mentioned, and they’re not belabored. So, racism is in this book, but only at whisper-level.

Instead, Thompson focuses on his relatively insulated life, his parents and friends, his studies, and the mysterious, still-unsolved relationship his father had with Goodman. And that’s where this story glows: Thompson’s tale is nostalgic and mundane. It’s not overly dramatic. It doesn’t shout or beg for attention. It’s just warm and happily, wonderfully, ordinary.

Be aware before you share this book with an elder that there are four-letter words in here and a rather eyebrow-raising, too-much-information bedroom scene inside. If you can handle that, though, “Lucky Medicine” is a one-of-a-kind gift.

c.2023, various publishers, $26.99 – $29.00, various page counts

By Terri Schlichenmeyer

The last two apps you downloaded were for diets. Ugh.

Friends say that you’re perfect but you’d like to lose your flabby arms, your thick thighs, and a few inches from your belly. You imagine what you’d be like if you were a size 6. You wonder if you could wear skinny boots again. But before you download another app, read these books about Black women’s health and body image…

There’s not just one, but at least two books out this spring that ask if it isn’t time for Black women to reclaim positive self-images about their bodies.

“It’s Always Been Ours” by eating disorder specialist Jessica Wilson (Go Hachette, $29.00), looks at the politics of Black women’s bodies. You don’t need to be told that this isn’t a new thing but the true history of Black women and the harm such negativity has done may still surprise you; Wilson also pulls in the works of novelists, friends, influencers, and others to get the best, most interesting look at the subject. If you want a call to action, this is it.

Along those lines, author Chrissy King says that body liberation is what Black women should strive for, and in “The Body Liberation Project” (Penguin Random House, $28.00), she offers ways to achieve body freedom. What sets her book apart from the Wilson book is less history, more personal tales and thought-provoking question-pages to get readers thinking about how they’ve been thinking about their bodies. Again, there could be surprises in what you learn about yourself.

With these books, King and Wilson advocate for the individual as well as for all Black women and if it feels difficult for you to pick between these two books, then don’t. Read them together or concurrently and you’ll be happier.

But okay, you love your body. Your legs, your arms, your shoulders and hair and smile — so how do you keep all that gorgeousness healthy? You can start with “Black Women’s Wellness” by Melody T. McCloud, MD (Sounds True, $26.99) and learn. Indeed, even if you’re feeling well and looking great, this book explains how to keep yourself that way, starting with what healthy looks like for a Black woman. From there, McCloud touches upon things like cancer, HIV, heart disease and diabetes before moving on to reproductive health, sex, relationships and mental health. It’s written in real language and everything is in simple, easy-to-understand, authentic terms created for grown-ups.

Beware that “Black Women’s Wellness” isn’t a replacement for your doctor or clinic, but it’s a nice question-answerer and a good launching point for knowing your body.

If these three books aren’t exactly what you’re looking for, be sure to ask your favorite librarian or bookseller. Admittedly, there aren’t a lot of modern, new books out there about body image for women of color, but a bookish person can help you find what you need. They’ll be able to put the book in your beautiful hands, your soft arms, for your gorgeous eyes.

There’s no app for that.

By Janis Mara
Bay City News Service

Cartoon enthusiasts, graphic novelists and folks from all over the Bay Area braved the rain to meet Wonder Woman – or at least the first woman to draw her – at the Cartoon Art Museum Saturday and Sunday.

The occasion was a pop-up Women’s Comic Marketplace, and Trina Robbins, the first female illustrator of the feminist icon, was on hand along with 20 or so exhibitors whose work reflected the rich variety of styles and subject matter in women’s comics today.

“We love comic books. We are vibing out,” said Valaree Garcia of San Francisco, who attended the event with her partner Sunday. “Every single booth is amazing, every woman is telling her story her own way.”

Exhibitor Avy Jetter of Oakland displayed her indie comic “Nuthin’ Good Ever Happens at 4 a.m.” which offers an Equal Opportunity look at the world of zombies, with an all-black cast of undead.

Around the corner at another table was cartoonist Jules Rivera, a surfer who detailed her dive into the largely male world of surfing in one of her first zines.

“I was already an aqua creature. I grew up in Orlando and had always lived on the beach,” Rivera said. When she moved to California, becoming a surfer came easily.

Rivera took over the decades-old Washington Post cartoon strip “Mark Trail” in 2020. The conservation-minded but rather conventional male character quickly got a makeover.

Rivera said, “I made him hot. They always intended him to be hot, they just went about it the wrong way.” In her zine, “Thirst Trapped in a Cave,” Rivera depicts Trail in a series of seductive poses she describes as “pinups.”

While many of the exhibitors create material intended for adults, Jen de Oliveira, a Livermore resident, is the co-creator of Sunday Haha, a free weekly comics newsletter for kids.

Children were much in evidence at the event, grouped around a table in the back industriously coloring and drawing, gathered in front of a big screen in another room watching (what else?) cartoons, sprawled on the floor reading (what else?) comic books.

At 4 p.m., the event adjourned to the library for tea with Robbins and Marrs.

Sitting at a round table sipping tea and eating gingersnaps, the two shared stories of their lives in the comics field.

Marrs, a Berkeley resident, created the comic book series, “The Further Fattening Adventures of Pudge, Girl Blimp,” which was nominated for an Eisner Award in 2017, the highest honor bestowed in the comic book world.

In 1972, Robbins, a San Francisco resident, wrote and drew a short story called “Sandy Comes Out,” starring the first lesbian comic-book character outside of pornography. Shifting gears, she began drawing for DC Comics in the 1980s, and since then has authored several books and continues to write and draw comics.

“Lee Marrs and Trina Robbins talking about feminism, and the younger artists writing graphic novels about their lives – you don’t have to create a universe. You don’t have to make up a planet” the way traditional cartoonists have done, said Ron Evans, chair of the museum’s board of trustees, who was on hand for the event.

“It’s what you experience, and it’s much more relatable,” Evans said. Reading about common experiences in graphic novels and cartoons can make people, especially young people, feel less alone.

“In school you’re taught to write about what you know, and that’s what they’re doing. It’s cathartic, and who knows? Maybe it will help other people.”

Copyright © 2023 Bay City News, Inc.  All rights reserved.  Republication, rebroadcast or redistribution without the express written consent of Bay City News, Inc. is prohibited. Bay City News is a 24/7 news service covering the greater Bay Area.