Finding Quiet Moments in Slices of Life by Qu

There is something special about wandering through a comic fair.

You go looking for one book and come home with another.

That is exactly how I discovered Slices of Life: A Comic Montage by Qu at the Toronto Comic Book Fair 2026. It wasn't on my wish list. I hadn't read any reviews beforehand. It simply caught my eye, and before long I found myself talking with the publisher from Bulgilhan Press.

Those conversations are one of the reasons I love graphic novel fairs. You discover books you might never have found online, but you also hear the stories behind them. Why a publisher believed in the work. What drew them to the artist. How a book found its way into the world. As someone who hopes to see our own graphic novels on those tables one day, those conversations are every bit as inspiring as the books themselves.

Of all the books I brought home that day, Slices of Life was the one that stayed with me.

When I finally sat down to read Slices of Life, I wasn't prepared for how quietly it would work its way into my heart.

There are no words.

Not one.

Just beautifully observed moments told entirely through pictures.

Originally created as Qu's thesis project for her MFA in Illustration Practice at MICA, Slices of Life was first published in China before Bulgilhan Press introduced it to English readers.

Then you notice the page count.

Three hundred pages.

I actually paused for a moment.

Three hundred pages of silent comics is an extraordinary achievement. Every expression, every gesture and every emotion is carried entirely by the artwork. It's a remarkable labour of love, and one that left me quietly turning each page a little more slowly than the last.

• 

• 

Reading this book felt less like reading stories and more like remembering my own life.

I would linger over a page, then find myself drifting away from the book for a moment. Looking out my window at the trees swaying gently in the breeze. Watching raindrops race down the glass. Reaching down to stroke my cat as she slept beside me. Qu has a wonderful way of reminding us that the smallest moments are often the ones that stay with us..

These aren't dramatic stories.

They're moments we've all lived.

My work as an animation editor has always made me appreciate timing. It lives in the pause before someone smiles, the extra beat before a reveal, the quiet space where emotion slips in. Qu understands that instinctively. Every page has its own rhythm. Without dialogue, your eye does all the listening.

There is a confidence in that kind of storytelling that I deeply admire.

The ordinary becomes extraordinary simply because someone noticed it.

One passage from the introduction stayed with me long after I closed the book.

"We may differ from each other in millions of ways, however, when a single moment connects our lives, then in that slice, there are no differences. There is just me and you."

That thought echoes through every page.

It reminds us that while our lives may look very different, we all share the same quiet moments. Waiting. Laughing. Missing someone. Helping a stranger. Those small moments connect us more than we realize.

As Dimitri and I develop our own graphic novels, books like this remind me what comics can do.

They can whisper.

They don't always have to shout.

There is a courage in creating a book that trusts a quiet moment is enough.

Slices of Life reminded me that some stories don't need dramatic plots or pages of dialogue to stay with us. Sometimes all it takes is a quiet observation, beautifully drawn, that makes us pause and recognize a piece of ourselves.

Sometimes all we need to do is notice.