Wow, it’s the 31st installment of Letters to Dead Authors & Artists! In this week’s letter, Dana Jeri Maier shares some of her favorite cartoons created by Richard Thompson, the beloved, smart, and hilarious cartoonist who died ten years ago at age 58. Thompson’s colleague and fellow cartoonist at the Washington Post, Nick Galifianakis, called him “a breathtaking talent, an artist who was better at writing and drawing than most people will ever be at anything.” Thanks to Dana for this wonderful tribute!
Read along with Dana Jeri Maier
Dear Richard,
I didn’t know you that well, but we did meet a few times and exchange a couple emails. Mostly, however, I knew of you from reading Richard’s Poor Almanac and Cul de Sac in the Washington Post as I was growing up. My family would talk about the Otterloops as though they were real people (“oh, did you see what Petey got up to?”) and to be honest, I think my mom is still a little sad that she does not have an Alice Otterloop equivalent as a granddaughter.
My favorite cartoon of yours is this one, and I wish I got a chance to tell you how much I loved it before you died:
Like you, I grew up in DC suburbs, and was often dragged to museums I failed to appreciate as a child. But Watson and the Shark (i.e., “the picture with the shark in it!”) always held my attention, even as a distractible little kid, and to draw this cartoon, you too must have had a soft spot for it. And I’m delighted by the idea of you also guiltily breezing past the Rembrandts and Impressionists and the whole Italian Renaissance just to find the one ridiculous painting you had to see before you could properly enjoy anything else.
Also, every time I go to the National Gallery of Art, I take a moment to appreciate the vents, thanks to this one:
Alice was right. They really are nice vents.
You were a brilliant cartoonist because you were a such a good writer, and a sneakily good one at that. I loved how your cartoons were always winking at the reader. “Get a load of THIS,” your work seemed to say, “between you and me, we know better.” Another great example:
Who is this disdainful narrator who is SO unimpressed by the cosmos?! And just look at those hilariously bad star names, proving him right. And wait—you threw in speculum?! That’s some #feminism right there.
Here’s another classic of yours I think of often. Give me this over Rick Rubin’s creative guide any day:

I wish more people could discover your work easily. Granted, Team Cul de Sac is still going strong thanks to your amazing friends and cartoonist buddies. And by researching this letter, I rediscovered how easy and fun it still is to go down rabbit holes into your old blog (thanks Mike Rhode!). But the best collection of your work, The Art of Richard Thompson is out of print, which is criminal, and most Cul de Sac editions go for collector’s prices. In a just world, everyone would have a dog eared collection of Shapes and Colors next to their copies of Calvin and Hobbes for their kids to find. But making great art was always your prime directive, not chasing recognition for it. Thankfully you left behind a team of enthusiasts who are happy to have any excuse to talk about how brilliant you were.
With all my admiration,
Dana
About Richard Thompson
Richard Thompson was a Reuben Award-winning cartoonist best known for creating Cul de Sac and Richard’s Poor Almanac. He illustrated for The Washington Post and other publications for decades before an editor finally convinced him to create a regular feature. Richard’s Poor Almanac earned him a devoted local following before Cul de Sac brought him national recognition. Bill Watterson, creator of Calvin and Hobbes, was among its fans, and credited it with renewing his faith in newspaper comic strips.
Thompson was diagnosed with Parkinson’s in 2009, and tragically died from complications of the disease in 2016. Team Cul de Sac was created in his honor by Chris Sparks to raise money for the Michael J. Fox Foundation.
About Dana Jeri Maier
Dana Jeri Maier is an artist and cartoonist, and the author of Skip to the Fun Parts: Cartoons and Complaints About the Creative Process. She has been a contributor to the New Yorker Daily Shouts since 2018.
She has illustrated for The Phillips Collection, the DC Public Library, Politics and Prose, and Museum Hack, and her artwork and murals can be seen at various restaurants in the DC area.
She lives with her husband and their two cats in Washington, DC.
Follow her on Instagram at @DanaJeriMaier.
Dear Reader! Thank you for reading Letters to Dead Authors & Artists, a weekly newsletter curated by me, Kelcey Ervick. I’m an author, artist, creative writing professor, and a lover of letters. I write The Habit of Art newsletter on Substack. This is a new venture where I’m thrilled to publish letters from the community. I’m open to pitches!
-Kelcey











Oh, my. You chose to write to my absolute favorite. Richard Thompson slays me. “The Art of Richard Thompson” is on Kindle & costs 9 dollars and you can enlarge different images and just genuflect at his skill as well as humor. He was called “Michelangelo with a sense of humor” and all you have to do is Google his name-designate “cartoonist” or “illustrator” -cuz there is a musician with same name, and click on images. Look at his Beethoven. Mark Twain. Mario Cuomo. Jesse Jackson. Brahms at his piano. And be forced to accept that he stood in line at conception and got EVERYTHING. We got the left overs. I first discovered him years ago when I saw his drawing of a freaked out woman waking up in the middle of the night. It is my daily look these days and I try to draw her to calm down. There are also great YouTube videos that celebrate him “The Art of Richard Thompson” but will break your heart. The love of his fellow cartoonists, some reputedly very remote & prickly, show up to pay homage. It is testimony to his skill yes, but also his person. He started drawing with his Mom. There is a book, “The Incomplete Art of Why Things Are” that is available and worth every penny. Am I gushing?
I love this so much. I feel like I'd be a way happier person if I'd been brought up reading these fabulous cartoons, too. I especially like the little red slide from "What the..?" to "Nothing."