Starred Review "About a fifth of my life was spent working on this graphic novel," debut creator Lee reveals in their author's note. What began in 2018 as a "weekend project four-page comic on Twitter about transgenerational language barriers" ansformed into "a much-needed, over five-year therapy session that I can carry in my hands." So, too, will lucky audiences be able to admire and empathize with Lee's autobiographical coming-of-age challenges as a young immigrant. As a little girl, she left Korea for the U.S. as Lee Jung-Jin, eventually morphing into Deborah Lee. She always felt trapped: "I'm both non-American . . . and non-Korean. Forever in between." She remembers a kind and gentle mother long ago, but as a high-school teen struggling with grades, friendships, and expectations, Lee also recalls that same mother turns monstrously abusive while her father becomes ever more ineffectual. Her music, once beloved, is no longer a salve, but perhaps art might reignite her passion less she just can't survive the pressures of everyday life. While Lee's narrative will be especially resonating to a generation too often struggling against self-harm amid suffocating social pressures, their breathtakingly meticulous panels in grayish blues and white will be what elevates their work to masterpiece status.

Gr 8 Up —Lee's powerful memoir explores coming of age as a Korean American teen in New Jersey. Deborah (Jung-Jin) was always a good student and first chair violin in her middle school orchestra. It's shocking to her family when Deb barely passes her freshman courses and drops her instrument in favor of art, and Deb's mom becomes increasingly verbally abusive as year one goes on. Deb perseveres, making it to sophomore year and her new elective art class, where she meets Quinn. Though they're inseparable at first, Quinn soon becomes distant, and that heart-sickening gap, paired with isolation from her few other friends and her mom's escalating verbal and physical abuse, contributes to Deb's worsening mental health. After surviving a suicide attempt, Deb begins to work through her trauma in sessions with a therapist, revealing more of her past. Readers see how fraught her relationship is not just to her mother, but to her entire Korean heritage, from which she distanced herself steadily until even her first language was foreign to her. The microaggressions and overt aggressions depicted are painful, which makes the resolution, Deb's return to South Korea and a tentative embrace of her culture, a cautious reconciliation. Filled primarily with digitally created grayscale artwork, Lee's style has the feel of memory, with some images hazy and others sharp, the suicidal moments and abusive treatment from Deb's mother fuzzing out and fading to black. Readers seeking realistic depictions of lived teen mental health experiences will find this beautiful work rewarding. VERDICT Recommended for graphic nonfiction collections.—Abby Bussen

Poignant images and text capture the emotional challenges faced by a Korean American teen in New Jersey.Artist Lee looks back on fraught high school years of longing to fit in. But Lee was withdrawn and socially awkward and suffered frequent microaggressions. Orchestra, formerly a refuge, got more competitive; Lee gravitated toward drawing rather than practicing violin. Having immigrated at age 3, Lee felt neither Korean nor fully American. Anxiety led to intense clinginess, making friendships a struggle. Home was no safe haven-Dad was warmly sympathetic, but Mom is shown as demanding and prone to out-of-control rages. Lee's fragile mental health plummeted, leading to a suicide attempt, but fortunately, therapy sessions allowed space to reflect on a difficult, lonely childhood, and weekly art classes in New York City offered hope and a place to feel seen and understood. Later, a trip to Korea helped Lee move toward acceptance and forgiveness. Confusion and pain are depicted through artful, largely digitally created grayscale images that evoke ink wash and pencil sketches and convey Lee's growing hopelessness. The panels vary dramatically in shape, size, and perspective, bringing readers in for intense, intimate close-ups and pulling back to offer a broader overview of events. The mother-child relationship is especially well portrayed, nuanced, and resonant. Befitting a memoir that addresses transgenerational language barriers, some conversations include Korean phrases that are not translated into English.A raw, relatable memoir exploring mental health and immigrant experiences. (author's note) (Graphic memoir. 14-18)