Artist, author, and zinester Sofia Szamosi digs deep in her new YA graphic memoir, Bad Kid: My Life as a “Troubled Teen” (Little, Brown Ink, March 10). During Szamosi’s youth, her mother sent her to several “therapeutic” wilderness programs that purported to help teens with behavioral issues. Through a blend of evocative digital art and excerpts from real letters and journals she wrote at the time, Szamosi reflects on the traumatic experiences she endured in those programs, as well as on earlier childhood memories and her evolving relationship with her mother. Kirkus called the book “a raw, deeply intimate account of a girl coming of age.” Szamosi answered our questions via email.
Did creating this book change any relationships in your life?
I’m very grateful to my mom, who has been supportive through the journey of this book. I know having her child publish a book about our hardest times, about which we both carry regrets, hasn’t always been easy.
Publishing a book about real experiences and people has been strange. No matter how hard I tried to tell the full story the way I remember it, the process inherently requires reducing and simplifying. The result captures only a tiny sliver of the full spectrum of reality, relationships included. My mom is far more complicated, nuanced, and real than the character I created, as is our relationship.
Despite our difficult past, we’ve both remained open to healing and growth, and creating this book has been part of that. She is a big part of my life today, and I’m so grateful.
What do you hope teen readers who are currently struggling will take away from your story?
If a teen who is struggling reads it and finds any shred of comfort, hope, or inspiration, that would be so meaningful. During my darkest times, art, music, and books really carried me through, so it’s very cool to imagine this book inspiring others to make art about their own stories.
If policymakers were to read Bad Kid, what’s the one message you’d want them to remember?
Our systems need to heal. I believe that means supporting families and communities, not just focusing on the “bad kids.” Shame-based, punitive tactics don’t work. We need accountability in the troubled teen industry and a shift toward trauma-informed, holistic care.
If you could speak directly to the teen you were when you were first taken from your bedroom, what would you want her to know?
At the risk of sounding cheesy, which I know would make teenage Sofia cringe endlessly, I might say, “Sofia, you’re in a real Tower Card moment right now! I know it's painful. But trust me, you’re collecting very juicy material for your future memoir. You’re an artist, and you’ll find ways to transform your most painful moments into something new. This journey isn’t easy, but it’s yours; you’re the only one who can live it and tell the story on the other side. Keep finding those little moments of inspiration and making art about it all. That’s your lifeline.”
What conversations do you hope parents and teens will have after reading the memoir together?
This book could be a conversation starter about shame; about labels like “bad kid” or “bad mom,” and how constricting those can feel. For all the teens and parents able to have conversations—which was not always so easy for my mom and me—keep on talking! May we all keep sharing and connecting, and keep the line for honest communication and repair open.
Ellie Halleron is an editorial intern.