Hardly a manual for joy and success, Eleanor Davis's deceptively titled book doesn't direct its readers toward happiness so much as it documents its characters' desperate yearning for peace. Davis's "how-to" is no confident self-help mantra: it's a question asked endlessly, frantically, throughout each of these aching stories. Using approaches that range from the sci-fi to the slice-of-life, from the parable to the diary entry, Davis creates people visibly ill at ease with themselves. Whether they're medieval troubadours, back-to-nature survivalists, or teens just embarked on summer romance, her characters are all hulking shoulders and spindly legs, their ungainly bodies somehow graceful despite their troubles. While they suffer the loss of a loved one or crippling self-doubt, Davis renders their perseverance with moving and empathic beauty. Often doing away with pen-and-ink linework entirely, the artist sculpts scenes with solid blocks of sombre colour – ochre and crimson and cornflower blue – that make loneliness lovely, and anxiety art.