Long before Lawrence Lindell was publishing cartoons in the New Yorker, he was eagerly consuming any comic books a quarter would buy him.

Raised in Los Angeles’ Compton neighborhood, he recalls the trips he’d take to local comics stores, where he’d immediately paw through their bargain bins in search of reading material.

“I grew up on superhero comics, which is weird, because I mostly make indie and autobio stuff,” Lindell told the Chronicle during a recent Zoom call. “But I grew up reading old Image Comics because they were in the 25-cent box and that’s what I could afford. I would get the knockoff comics of the big guys.”

By the time he got to college at Otis College of Art and Design, Lindell had discovered underground comics. Influenced by the work of award-winning Sonoma County-based cartoonist Julia Wertz, among others, his connection to the Bay Area began when he met his spouse, fellow cartoonist Breena Nuñez, at the 2013East Bay Alternative Book & Zine Festin Oakland. Lindell would go on to receive his MFA in comics from San Francisco’s California College of the Arts in 2020. Today, he and Nuñez co-run a small press calledLaneha Houseout of their San Francisco home.

This month, Lindell’s passion for speech bubbles, bleed lines and shading will enjoy its biggest audience yet with the publication of “Blackward,” his first book.

Setfor releaseon Tuesday, Sept. 26, “Blackward” collects the work of Lindell’s web comic of the same name, which he launched as a daily Instagram series in 2018. Focused on a quartet of queer and nonbinary Black folks who find community through the act of self-publishing zines, the book has plenty of local flourishes, including a character named Mr. Marcus, in honor ofOakland’s Marcus Books.

In “Blackward,” Lindell has crafted a story that celebrates the self-publishing of comics and zines as an underrated outlet for creativity, education and community.

“I love zines because you don’t need permission to make them,” Lindell explained. “They also have a history of being used to spread information, and the beauty of zine fests is that they bring all these different genres and people and communities together.”

A similar mentality guides the work of Laneha House. The couple have turned it into a communal font of ink and paper powered by their unwavering commitment to an indie ethos. It’s a true DIY operation; they can often be found stapling pages into booklets.

For Nuñez, running a small press alongside her spouse has provided a welcome opportunity to push boundaries and indulge creativity.

“I enjoy the work I put into Laneha House because it reminds me of how playful I can be when it comes to graphic design and making art and comics,” she said, “and I don’t want to lose sight of that playfulness in my art-making process.”

Through Laneha House, the couple also issuethe Kinnard Awards,which debuted in 2022 and are named in honor of former Bay Area resident Rupert Kinnard, a pioneering queer cartoonist best known for his Brown Bomber character. Winners in eight categories — including “beyond retail,” honoring comic shops and bookstores that are “much more than just retailers and are integrated into the community,” and “brighter future,” which recognize creators who “see a new path for comics and do what they can to make that happen” — are selected from candidates across the Bay Area comics community.

Though Lindell remains committed to keeping things in-house, he’s seeing his own career blossom into new and exciting territory.

The publication of “Blackward” marks his first time collaborating with seminal comics publisher Drawn & Quarterly. He also has ayoung adult graphic novel, “Buckle Up,”about a young boy navigating his parents’ divorce, due for release next year from Random House.

But even as things continue to level up for him, Lindell’s desire to celebrate the Bay Area zine and comics community remains as robust as ever. That’s evident in the character of Mr. Marcus, who serves as a source of wisdom and support for the young protagonists of “Blackward.” Partially based on several of Lindell’s own mentors, Mr. Marcus was initially intended to be a minor figure in the story before the artist decided the character demanded a larger role.

In the narrative, Mr. Marcus runs a bookstore called Books N Thangs, which Lindell says is a tribute not only to the closed San Francisco chapter of Marcus Books, which shuttered in 2014, but to “all the Black-owned bookstores in the Bay Area, both the ones closed and the ones that are still here.”

For Lindell, the loss of such institutions makes the continued viability of annual conventions and expos like San Francisco’sBlack & Brown Comix Arts FestivalandOakland’s AfroComicConeven more essential.

毕竟,这是他一直ab的场所le to find Nuñez, kick off his career and launch an acclaimed small press. Now he hopes to return the favor by turning the spotlight back on them.

“It was important to me to highlight a lot of Oakland and San Francisco communities and events in ‘Blackward’ because, even as a transplant, they adopted me into their space,” Lindell said. “A lot of folks who were born and raised in the Bay took me in and made me feel safe and seen, especially in Oakland, and this book hopefully serves to honor that.”

Zack Ruskin is a freelance writer.