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Don't Go Where I Can't Follow
Don't Go Where I Can't Follow is a tender collection of letters, photographs, and drawings Anders Nilsen has compiled in memory of his fiancee, Cheryl Weaver, who died of cancer in November 2005. It is an appreciation of the time they shared together, and a heartbreaking account of the progression of her illness. Including early love notes, simple and poetic postcards, tales of their travels together in written and comics form, journal entries and drawings done in the hospital during her final days, and a beautifully rendered tear-jerking account of Weaver's memorial, Don't Go Where I Can't Follow is a deeply personal romance, and a universal reminder of our mortality and the significance of the relationships we build.
85 pages, Paperback
First published January 15, 2007
11 people are currently reading
1231 people want to read
About the author
Anders Nilsen
75 books226 followersAnders Nilsen is an American illustration and comics artist. He is the author of ten books including Big Questions, The End, and Poetry is Useless as well as the coloring book A Walk in Eden. His work has been featured in the New York Times, Poetry Magazine, Kramer's Ergot, Pitchfork, Medium and elsewhere. His comics have been translated into several languages overseas and his painting and drawing have been exhibited internationally. Nilsen's work has received three Ignatz awards as well as the Lynd Ward Prize for the Graphic Novel and Big Questions was listed as a New York Times Notable Book in 2011. Nilsen grew up in Minneapolis and Northern New Hampshire. He studied art in New Mexico and lived in Chicago for over a decade. He currently lives in Los Angeles.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 109 reviews
February 5, 2019
“Don't leave me here alone! It's your Sam calling. Don't go where I can't follow! Wake up, Mr. Frodo!”--Tolkien, Two Towers
All of Nilsen's work that I have read besides this work (Dogs and Water, Big Questions, Monologues on the Coming Plague) seems philosophical, deliberately spare, ironic, Samuel Beckett-like, stripped down emotionally and technically. Controlled, in a certain way. Not personal in any obvious sense. Maybe some people might see the work as flippant, as obviously anti-aesthetic, anti-Art School pretension. I find a kind of shyness, tenderness, vulnerability, humor in it. More philosophical than personal or political, certainly.
Then this terrible thing happens to him that sort of is the personal and professional Speed Bump it would be for anyone: His girlfriend Cheryl gets cancer and dies. And they are young, in their twenties. He does what many normal people do, but maybe more artists than non-artists, he puts together a sort of memorial for family and friends based on sketches and journaling he did while she was sick, then gets help publishing it in a limited edition by Drawn and Quarterly, then rethinks this as too personal and raw and possibly giving the impression of being self-serving, and stops production. Then five years later he decides to allow a second printing. As he says, love and loss comes to us all and we need to process it in our own ways, so maybe it's okay to share his way.
In many ways it is just as minimalist, and unpretentious, as any of his other work; it feels honest, and this is about him and her, her death from cancer, their experience of it together. I liked it very much, was moved by it in many ways, maybe especially by its honesty and simplicity. All these books on death (I think of Harvey Pekar's My Cancer Year, too, though he writes that one) bring you back to other deaths you have faced, or they do this for me, I think, and that is enriching. It's also about how we memorialize the ones we love and lose. And what a great title, eh?
All of Nilsen's work that I have read besides this work (Dogs and Water, Big Questions, Monologues on the Coming Plague) seems philosophical, deliberately spare, ironic, Samuel Beckett-like, stripped down emotionally and technically. Controlled, in a certain way. Not personal in any obvious sense. Maybe some people might see the work as flippant, as obviously anti-aesthetic, anti-Art School pretension. I find a kind of shyness, tenderness, vulnerability, humor in it. More philosophical than personal or political, certainly.
Then this terrible thing happens to him that sort of is the personal and professional Speed Bump it would be for anyone: His girlfriend Cheryl gets cancer and dies. And they are young, in their twenties. He does what many normal people do, but maybe more artists than non-artists, he puts together a sort of memorial for family and friends based on sketches and journaling he did while she was sick, then gets help publishing it in a limited edition by Drawn and Quarterly, then rethinks this as too personal and raw and possibly giving the impression of being self-serving, and stops production. Then five years later he decides to allow a second printing. As he says, love and loss comes to us all and we need to process it in our own ways, so maybe it's okay to share his way.
In many ways it is just as minimalist, and unpretentious, as any of his other work; it feels honest, and this is about him and her, her death from cancer, their experience of it together. I liked it very much, was moved by it in many ways, maybe especially by its honesty and simplicity. All these books on death (I think of Harvey Pekar's My Cancer Year, too, though he writes that one) bring you back to other deaths you have faced, or they do this for me, I think, and that is enriching. It's also about how we memorialize the ones we love and lose. And what a great title, eh?
July 27, 2013
I thought I had a lot to say about this, but I'm going to table any attempt at a review & go hug my husband.
December 23, 2022
Damn I am still crying. It's so sad, happy and beautiful.
All the nostalgic feels.
The reality.
The story of two people and everyone they love.
Their memories.
The photographs.
The dialogues.
The joys and the pain.
The things we remember in the end.
My poor heart...
Life is nothing in the end but the little things that mattered during those normal days.
All the nostalgic feels.
The reality.
The story of two people and everyone they love.
Their memories.
The photographs.
The dialogues.
The joys and the pain.
The things we remember in the end.
My poor heart...
Life is nothing in the end but the little things that mattered during those normal days.
February 10, 2013
There is so much I want to say about this book and yet I don’t think I can quite put it into words. I absolutely LOVE it. When I first saw it at our local bookstore, I flipped through it a few times, thinking, “Hmm. Looks interesting, and kind of a cute love story.” Went back in today and decided to buy it. As I chatted with Skylar (bookstore employee) about why I was buying it, I referenced my friends/family that have been impacted by cancer; I thought Nilsen’s approach would be a unique way to tackle the subject. I braced myself for some sadness, a bit of nostalgia, and hope in the face of love and loss…but didn’t know that it would go much beyond that.
Then, I read it. Twice. In about an hour. It is AMAZING. Stunning in its simplicity—some photographs, postcards, a letter, a few drawings—it captivates you in a way you don’t expect. As you flip each page, you are drawn in by its modesty as well as its significance. Nilsen’s decisions to include (and not include) snapshots of his life with Cheryl affect you in profound ways; he lets you into their little world , allowing you to feel comfortable enough to hang out with them, but honoring their privacy all along the way. As he delves deeper into the issues of illness, love, loss, and what’s left, you find yourself coming to grips with these same experiences—you are challenged, pushed, touched, changed.
The brilliance of this book is that, upon first glance, it’s a “cool” mixture of mediums to tell a story…and yet, in that simple elegance, it is transformative. The photos are ones which any of us might have taken on a similar trip; the camping description, a tale we all might be able to tell. Nilsen’s ability to bring such beauty to the “normal” is the power of this book. By the time you get to the illness, you already wish you knew more about Cheryl, Anders, their world...and are extraordinarily impacted by the ways in which your own life gains deeper meaning.
Most poignant and utterly beautiful (for me) are the last 30 pages. Heart-wrenching, gorgeous, just incredible …reminds us why we are all here. What a wonderful way to honor someone you love—and to honor our remarkable ability to love in and of itself…no matter how long it lasts.
Then, I read it. Twice. In about an hour. It is AMAZING. Stunning in its simplicity—some photographs, postcards, a letter, a few drawings—it captivates you in a way you don’t expect. As you flip each page, you are drawn in by its modesty as well as its significance. Nilsen’s decisions to include (and not include) snapshots of his life with Cheryl affect you in profound ways; he lets you into their little world , allowing you to feel comfortable enough to hang out with them, but honoring their privacy all along the way. As he delves deeper into the issues of illness, love, loss, and what’s left, you find yourself coming to grips with these same experiences—you are challenged, pushed, touched, changed.
The brilliance of this book is that, upon first glance, it’s a “cool” mixture of mediums to tell a story…and yet, in that simple elegance, it is transformative. The photos are ones which any of us might have taken on a similar trip; the camping description, a tale we all might be able to tell. Nilsen’s ability to bring such beauty to the “normal” is the power of this book. By the time you get to the illness, you already wish you knew more about Cheryl, Anders, their world...and are extraordinarily impacted by the ways in which your own life gains deeper meaning.
Most poignant and utterly beautiful (for me) are the last 30 pages. Heart-wrenching, gorgeous, just incredible …reminds us why we are all here. What a wonderful way to honor someone you love—and to honor our remarkable ability to love in and of itself…no matter how long it lasts.
November 23, 2023
everytime i don’t think love exists i read things like this like to me this is what love is like you should dedicate an entire book to me u should save every single momento and letter that i give u like why wouldn’t u if ur literally in love with me also this made me cry so hard my jaw started to hurt also once again everybody life is truly cruel and merciless like why do things like that have to happen to the ppl we love this entire thing is rigged fuck this fuck off
October 3, 2017
A rather raw scrap book compiling memories of the author with a special someone, who sadly passed away from cancer. Not quite an impressive presentation, art-wise.
But still a beautiful tribute nonetheless.
But still a beautiful tribute nonetheless.
July 14, 2015
How do you write a review about a book like this? Anders shares with us a few key memories about the love of his life, Cheryl Weaver.
If I have one valid criticism, I suppose it's that I wish the book was longer. But I figure it's rude to even ask for that-- he's let us pry into this private part of his life for long enough. This book, in its sparseness, makes you want to meet her, want to know her as he does, so perhaps this criticism is also a strength.
Possibly written as a tribute to her, to help conclude (in the vaguest sense of the word) his own feelings, and/or an attempt to help others who have faced similar tragedy-- this is a beautiful little attempt to immortalized her and let the world know that it lost a good person to a horrid illness.
I met Anders very briefly once, and I'm certain I came off as a bumbling idiot (I think I said something to the effect of "I understand comic paneling"). "Big Questions" is one of my favorite, probably my absolute favorite, graphic novel, so I was naturally a bit nervous. I hadn't read this book yet, but I had bought it, knowing what it was about and already blown away by the gorgeously tragic title. I handed Anders a stack of books to sign; "Don't Go Where I Can't Follow" was one of them. I barely thought twice about asking him to sign it; half-heartedly, I figured that if he was open enough about it to publish the book, he wouldn't be affected by signing it. That was an ill considered thought.
He signed it, kindly, with a drawing of Cheryl's glasses, without a negative word about it. Now, having read the book, I've read and obviously realized that he's had reservations about publishing this private look into his life; this should've been obvious. So, I'm sorry, Anders. Publishing this book to memorialize her and to help others doesn't mean you should have to sign it for ill-considered strangers like me.
Famous writers have often said that writers write to expel demons, to deal with the problems and questions in our own lives. This is why I write fiction, this is why I wrote this review, this is why Anders Nilsen wrote "Don't Go Where I Can't Follow," and why I hope he'll continue to write intelligent, yet emotionally-sensitive graphic narrative for years to come.
If I have one valid criticism, I suppose it's that I wish the book was longer. But I figure it's rude to even ask for that-- he's let us pry into this private part of his life for long enough. This book, in its sparseness, makes you want to meet her, want to know her as he does, so perhaps this criticism is also a strength.
Possibly written as a tribute to her, to help conclude (in the vaguest sense of the word) his own feelings, and/or an attempt to help others who have faced similar tragedy-- this is a beautiful little attempt to immortalized her and let the world know that it lost a good person to a horrid illness.
I met Anders very briefly once, and I'm certain I came off as a bumbling idiot (I think I said something to the effect of "I understand comic paneling"). "Big Questions" is one of my favorite, probably my absolute favorite, graphic novel, so I was naturally a bit nervous. I hadn't read this book yet, but I had bought it, knowing what it was about and already blown away by the gorgeously tragic title. I handed Anders a stack of books to sign; "Don't Go Where I Can't Follow" was one of them. I barely thought twice about asking him to sign it; half-heartedly, I figured that if he was open enough about it to publish the book, he wouldn't be affected by signing it. That was an ill considered thought.
He signed it, kindly, with a drawing of Cheryl's glasses, without a negative word about it. Now, having read the book, I've read and obviously realized that he's had reservations about publishing this private look into his life; this should've been obvious. So, I'm sorry, Anders. Publishing this book to memorialize her and to help others doesn't mean you should have to sign it for ill-considered strangers like me.
Famous writers have often said that writers write to expel demons, to deal with the problems and questions in our own lives. This is why I write fiction, this is why I wrote this review, this is why Anders Nilsen wrote "Don't Go Where I Can't Follow," and why I hope he'll continue to write intelligent, yet emotionally-sensitive graphic narrative for years to come.
May 27, 2014
Made me cry, of course.
It's a beautifully designed book, and the story is inevitably heart-breaking.
It chronicles the relationship of the author with his significant other, who died while they were still engaged*.
Letters chronicling their travels, photographs of their adventures, drawings of her in the hospital, postcards from one to the other. It's a bit of a mishmash, a jumble, a potpourri of memories. There's a beauty in the mixed-bag feeling.
I never got the sense of who either of these people really were, though. I don't even know what she did as a career. And I didn't get the sense that she was particularly likable.
I wonder what is missing from the apparently-longer original paperback version.
That doesn't make it any less affecting, though.
My favorite parts where the traditionally paneled graphic novel sections - about their hijinks getting to France and of her funeral. Makes me really hope he does some autobio work in the future.
*I guess that's a spoiler, but really, you should know what you're getting into.
It's a beautifully designed book, and the story is inevitably heart-breaking.
It chronicles the relationship of the author with his significant other, who died while they were still engaged*.
Letters chronicling their travels, photographs of their adventures, drawings of her in the hospital, postcards from one to the other. It's a bit of a mishmash, a jumble, a potpourri of memories. There's a beauty in the mixed-bag feeling.
I never got the sense of who either of these people really were, though. I don't even know what she did as a career. And I didn't get the sense that she was particularly likable.
I wonder what is missing from the apparently-longer original paperback version.
That doesn't make it any less affecting, though.
My favorite parts where the traditionally paneled graphic novel sections - about their hijinks getting to France and of her funeral. Makes me really hope he does some autobio work in the future.
*I guess that's a spoiler, but really, you should know what you're getting into.
July 20, 2017
It's hard to assign a rating to this, particularly a two star one, because it is a beautiful tribute. And that was its original intent, so I can't fault it for that. But as a total outsider, I felt really disconnected. It was too short and disjointed for me to be involved. It felt like it wasn't meant for me--and it really wasn't.
September 14, 2019
A mixed media memoir of a relationship, the trivial and the tumultuous, the letters and postcards between a young couple, and the deep pain of loss. Damn.
July 8, 2021
Tam olaraq komiks sayammaram, amma təsirli idi.
December 4, 2013
This is a sweet and sad story about a fellow's relationship with a woman who ultimately dies (don't worry, that doesn't give it away;). My only complaint is that it seems so short, like read-it-in-an-hour short and almost don't-really-get-a-sense-of-characters short, too.
July 8, 2013
Devastating.
May 27, 2017
Cried in the break room at work.
April 6, 2019
Poignant and good read, loved how personal it was, loved the more light hearted moments that balanced out the end, which made me cry. I think it was a little too short though.
July 28, 2021
Nilsen made this book for himself, and wanted to distribute it to family and friends, "twenty copies or so by photocopy and ink-jet," so don't expect anything but an extremely personal re/collection of bits and pieces, small adventures and postcards, short comics and letters.
There is no story, no compelling characters, arcs nor development, it's a bunch of polaroid tossed together from the memory.
There is no story, no compelling characters, arcs nor development, it's a bunch of polaroid tossed together from the memory.
June 10, 2021
Note: I do appreciate that this was out of the press' usual genre of graphic novels and more a favor for a friend not up to self-publishing a book originally intended for family and friends. However, I wish there had been alt text of the images of handwritten letters due to these being difficult to decipher on my screen.
September 18, 2018
My only criticism is that I wish it had been longer. Very poignant ♥️
April 11, 2021
ugh. this left me in tears. like, there's currently a pile of snotty tissues next to me as i type this. i haven't been typing reviews lately for anything i finish because i just don't think i can do it but with this book i almost want to just get it over with so i can finish processing all of these emotions and move on.
don't go where i can't follow is a raw and honest collection of postcards, sketches, letters, photographs, and all together, is a perfect little memorial for anders nilsen's finacee cheryl who ultimately passes away from cancer. i feel like it can be so rare for a book to really capture this raw kind of emotion, and idk, maybe it's because it's a collection of these very real things from their relationship instead of pages of written words and descriptive monologues, it just feels so real for the reader. or maybe i'm just way too sensitive.
because this book was not reprinted and probably won't ever be (i think), it may not be easy to find a copy. i had to interloan a copy through my library and thanks to a library in illinois i was able to enjoy this amazing work.
don't go where i can't follow is a raw and honest collection of postcards, sketches, letters, photographs, and all together, is a perfect little memorial for anders nilsen's finacee cheryl who ultimately passes away from cancer. i feel like it can be so rare for a book to really capture this raw kind of emotion, and idk, maybe it's because it's a collection of these very real things from their relationship instead of pages of written words and descriptive monologues, it just feels so real for the reader. or maybe i'm just way too sensitive.
because this book was not reprinted and probably won't ever be (i think), it may not be easy to find a copy. i had to interloan a copy through my library and thanks to a library in illinois i was able to enjoy this amazing work.
August 17, 2014
I'm sure this is a nice memorial for readers who knew the couple personally. The comic about the ashes is lovely, as are a few of the postcards. I was intrigued by the mix of letters, postcards, photos, and comics; I appreciated that there wasn't heavy foreshadowing or narrative hand-holding. That said, it didn't feel like all the right moments had been chosen to show us these people or make an arc. It doesn't hold together, for me, as a book for the rest of us.
Perhaps the theme does some work in its favor: "As we've found out, as we've been made so terribly aware by all of this, we're human. "
The afterword explains that the author meant it to be a small run for friends and family. I wouldn't say it's directly written to her, or to their people, or to himself, or to strangers. I guess when an artist makes a scrapbook it can be a lovely scrapbook that other people may want to peek into.
Perhaps the theme does some work in its favor: "As we've found out, as we've been made so terribly aware by all of this, we're human. "
The afterword explains that the author meant it to be a small run for friends and family. I wouldn't say it's directly written to her, or to their people, or to himself, or to strangers. I guess when an artist makes a scrapbook it can be a lovely scrapbook that other people may want to peek into.
September 13, 2013
Very poignant and interesting. Ran a huge interview with the author in The Guardian which was really interesting and made me seek this out at the library. Its a mixture of comic strip, scrapbook and photos about his girlfriend who died of cancer. Originally meant to be a small private publication for her friends and family, he then decided to publish it.
One point, asking in the library where the 'adult graphic novel' section is (not one I frequent or even knew existed before last week) felt like I was asking for porn. Its the 'adult' tag, I know it helps distinguish this from more conventional comics, but its a problem Library of Congress. Sort it out.
One point, asking in the library where the 'adult graphic novel' section is (not one I frequent or even knew existed before last week) felt like I was asking for porn. Its the 'adult' tag, I know it helps distinguish this from more conventional comics, but its a problem Library of Congress. Sort it out.
December 18, 2008
This is one of the most honest and heart-breaking memoirs of love that I have ever read. Period. I should have bought it the first time I saw it at Quimby's in Chicago, and sadly it is now out of print. I actually cried in the book store as I read it. Is it better to have loved and lost? Anders Nilsen makes me think YES.
... but you don't have to take my word for it.
... but you don't have to take my word for it.
May 17, 2009
Gut wrenching, painful, incredible. I cannot overemphazise the simple beauty of this book, and wouldn't want to. Read when you're in a healthy and balanced frame of mind.
October 23, 2011
Wow- that was hard to read but impossible to put down. The artwork is beautiful, the sentiment tugs your heart out. Well done. I can't imagine a better tribute.
December 4, 2017
Anders Nilsen hooked me forever with his gorgeous long and spare graphic novel, Big Questions. This book, which originally came out in 2006 with a minimal run and then again in 2012, is a departure for him. In fact, only a few pages actually involve his drawings. And yet, it is still quite powerful in its reticence.
I do not want you to know the reason he has for writing this book. I didn't, and I am glad I wasn't expecting what was to come in the second half.
The book entails postcards, letters, photos, and drawings that are all about himself and his long-time girlfriend, Cheryl Weaver. They are all real, nothing is fictional. Since I am also interested in telling stories about people through their objects, this had me. I'm not quite at 5 stars, but I can't tell you why without spoilers. I'll just say that leaves me with a lot of questions.
I do not want you to know the reason he has for writing this book. I didn't, and I am glad I wasn't expecting what was to come in the second half.
The book entails postcards, letters, photos, and drawings that are all about himself and his long-time girlfriend, Cheryl Weaver. They are all real, nothing is fictional. Since I am also interested in telling stories about people through their objects, this had me. I'm not quite at 5 stars, but I can't tell you why without spoilers. I'll just say that leaves me with a lot of questions.
July 13, 2023
What can I say... my son died of Hodgkin's lymphoma 2 months and 12 days ago. I was there myself when my son was diagnosed: they tell you that 'it's the best cancer you can suffer from', that there is 80% probability of cure, you don't relate any previous symptoms to it and at the end of the day you choose between suffering due to the chemo and dying or refusing any treatment and dying, with everything it entails. My son chose the latter and could enjoy some months while his bones broke and his whole system got eaten away by cancer. I feel so lucky to have had him in my life, I loved him to bits. He lived his life his own way and died as he wanted; in his sleep, at home and with me.
September 7, 2025
Don’t Go Where I Can’t Find You is a mixed media graphic memoir that is about the death of Anders Nilsen’s fiancé from Hodgkins Lymphoma.
The story is told through a series of travel episodes: camping on a beach, a trip to France, a holiday vacation, and, ultimately, a trip to the hospital and the funeral. The art is made up of postcards, handwritten letters, photographs, and a few comics.
This is really raw writing. It will pull on your heartstrings.
The handwritten stories are often hard to read, but that is a minor complaint.
The soundtrack for this read was Elliot Smith until Elizabeth Cotten was mentioned. Then I switched to her. Both were totally fitting.
The story is told through a series of travel episodes: camping on a beach, a trip to France, a holiday vacation, and, ultimately, a trip to the hospital and the funeral. The art is made up of postcards, handwritten letters, photographs, and a few comics.
This is really raw writing. It will pull on your heartstrings.
The handwritten stories are often hard to read, but that is a minor complaint.
The soundtrack for this read was Elliot Smith until Elizabeth Cotten was mentioned. Then I switched to her. Both were totally fitting.
July 18, 2018
Anders (I guess after reading this I feel more compelled to call him by his first name than his last) writes and illustrates and composes this story with so much love. I felt like I'd stumbled on someone's scrapbooky journal, holding moments that were incredibly tender in their ordinary depiction of what it is like to share a life with someone, to go where they go, to simply witness things in companionship. It's an incredible homage to love, loss, and the small bits of memory that rattle loose when one is going through grief. I cried lol. Please read this.
February 25, 2019
A highly personal collection of letters, postcards, sketchbook drawings, journal entries, and comics that paint a portrait of a relationship cut short. It's simple and honest, and arguably too short, but packs an emotional punch I was in no way expecting. One of the most devastating books I've read. Although I have a few qualms with it - I wish it was longer, I wish we got to know Carol more, I wish the delightful comics took up more pages - it was a beautiful and heartbreaking tribute to love, life, and loss.
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