Reza Farazmand is the creator of the popular webcomic Poorly Drawn Lines, which he updates three times a week. In City Monster, Farazmand's first graphic novel, a Bigfoot-like creature teams up with a vampire neighbor to investigate a mystery.

Mooncop by Tom Gauld (2016).

Mooncop is about a moon colony that's slowly ­disappearing — not because of any looming sci-fi threat, but because its inhabitants are simply losing interest in the moon and moving on to the next cool thing. It's a quietly funny, reflective book, and Gauld gives the story room to breathe with big lunar landscapes and empty spaces that reflect the characters' loneliness.

Drinking at the Movies by Julia Wertz (2010).

If you've ever been a young person in a new place figuring stuff out, a lot of this graphic memoir will feel familiar. Wertz's writing is honest and constantly hilarious, and her art style is free-flowing and natural, like she's sharing a sketchbook chronicle of her life as she creates it. The book is punctuated by neat architectural drawings and detailed room designs.

Megahex by Simon Hanselmann (2014).

Megahex follows a witch, her cat/boyfriend, their owl roommate, their completely unhinged werewolf pal, and all the weird stuff they get into. While the story veers into absurd and unexpected territory, the characters and their problems feel grounded in real emotions. Once you get acquainted with the madness of Hanselmann's world, you'll find a ton of heart there.

Persepolis by Marjane Satrapi (2003).

Persepolis is one of the best-known graphic memoirs for good reason. Satrapi took a huge ­subject — her experience of the Iranian Revolution and ­emigration — and put it into a digestible, beautifully illustrated series of comics. A great example of how comic art can take readers that extra step into an author's experience.

The World of Edena by Moebius (1990).

The French cartoonist Moebius seems like he was a pretty out-there dude, and his comics totally rock because of it. The World of Edena, starts with a pair of outer-space mechanics who stumble into something vast and incomprehensible; it grows into a surreal tale spanning planets and dimensions.

Hyperbole and a Half by Allie Brosh (2013).

The gold standard for illustrated essays. Brosh's stories are so hilarious and the illustrations so perfectly crude that the underlying emotions sneak up on you, and before you know it, you've accidentally learned something about yourself.

This article was first published in the latest issue of The Week magazine. If you want to read more like it, you can try six risk-free issues of the magazine here.