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From Wondery, I'm Rach Jackson, and this is Who's Amazing Life.
You've heard of people who changed the course of history, but before they made their mark on the world, they were people like you and me still figuring out what they wanted to do with their lives.
On this episode, you will be that person everyone knows.
You might be a musician or an athlete. a scientist, or a painter.
You may know what the person accomplished later in life, but now you can experience everything they faced along the way, from challenges and heartbreak to triumphs and excitement.
All the moments that built this person into someone who would change the world.
There will be clues, so pay attention.
But only at the end will you find out who you are.
So sit back and imagine your amazing life as The Cartoonist.
Imagine, you're nine years old and it's dinner time.
As usual, your kitchen table is crowded.
Can I have some more?
Watch out!
And loud.
Has anyone seen my fork?
You duck as your dad passes the salad bowl over your head to your mom.
You put your head down and try to block out the noise as much as you can.
It's so funny.
Your sister looks over at you.
Hey, what are you laughing at?
It's this comic, see?
The dog locked itself in the bathroom.
You turn the book towards your sister just as your baby brother knocks his milk over.
Oh, no!
You snatch your book away, but it's too late.
There's milk all over it.
Your baby brother picks up the empty cup.
Tears fill your eyes.
Your first book of comics ever.
And it was brand new.
And now, it's ruined.
Your mom hands you a paper towel.
It'll be fine, honey.
Just wipe it off.
You sop up the mess and sniff back your tears.
Deep down, you know she's right.
None of the pictures got smeared.
It will be fine.
But still...
You feel really jumpy and stressed out.
Your heart is racing, almost as if you ran a marathon.
Everyone goes back to eating, but you can't relax.
You've got to get out of that cramped kitchen.
I'm not that hungry.
You stop down the hall, close the door to your room you share with your sister and sit at the art table.
It's frustrating to never have any space to yourself, but at least it's quiet here.
You spread your book out to dry and pull out a clean sheet of paper to draw.
That always makes you feel better.
You try drawing a cartoon version of your family dinner.
You're already feeling calmer as you outline your kitchen and add your brother's spill.
You make it look even messier than in real life, with milk dripping down the walls and oatmeal in everyone's hair.
You add speech bubbles.
Cartoon you says, ew, gross.
Your cartoon brother says, yay.
You can't help but smile.
He just looks so silly.
You glance at the book next to you, still drying out, and it gives you an idea.
Maybe you could turn your picture into a whole story, like a comic strip.
You draw more pictures.
Your family sitting at a nice, clean table.
Then the milk spilling.
Then the oatmeal flying.
I like it.
It's fun to draw.
But something's missing.
You try putting boxes around each picture.
That's it.
It's a comic strip.
You just made your own.
You sit back to admire your work.
It feels good to turn something that made you upset into something funny.
You pin your first ever comic to the wall.
You're not sure if it's as good as the ones in your favorite book, but that's okay.
You just know you want to make more.
You keep reading your favorite comic strips and drawing stories about your life.
You even show some to your friends.
But in fourth grade, something starts happening that you don't know how to draw.
You've always worried a lot, but now your fears feel stronger, especially your fear of getting sick.
You and your mom recently got food poisoning and spent a night throwing up.
It didn't seem like a big deal at first, but the next time you feel sick to your stomach, your whole body seems to freeze.
You're terrified of throwing up again.
The fear gets worse and worse.
Your teeth chatter and you can barely talk.
The fear eventually goes away, but it happens again a few days later.
And when it comes over you this time, you feel so bad that you don't even want to leave the house.
Part of you knows that you don't have to be afraid.
It's normal to get sick once in a while, but it feels like you don't have control over your fears.
Worst of all, you can't use your art to make yourself feel better.
Drawing used to calm you down, but you can't bear to make a comic about your fear of throwing up.
Just thinking about it makes you queasy.
Your parents can tell something's wrong, and you try to explain it to them.
You're not sure they understand, but they promise to find you some help.
You're 10 years old, sitting in the back of your fifth grade classroom drawing.
Your stomach hurts a little.
Are you getting sick?
You start drawing yourself bent over, holding your stomach and turning green.
But then you stop and turn the page.
It still feels too real and too nauseating to draw.
You pick up your pencil and try again, this time drawing things as you wish they were.
You draw yourself on the beach, sipping lemonade, feeling happy.
The picture is a little boring, but it's easier than drawing the truth.
When the bell rings, you rush outside, excited to get home and read some comics.
But you stop short when you see your mom waiting to pick you up.
You almost forgot.
She's taking you to see a therapist today for the first time.
As you drag your feet, slowly making your way to the car, your best friend spots you in the crowd.
Hey!
Want to come over and draw?
My mom says you could stay for dinner.
I can't.
Oh, why not?
You want to tell her the truth, but you're too embarrassed.
You know that therapy helps a lot of people.
It's nothing to be ashamed of.
But you've never even said the word therapy out loud.
And you've never heard any of your friends talk about it.
You don't want to be the only one.
What if people make fun of you or think you're weird?
I just, I have to do something with my mom.
You duck into the car before your friend can ask anything else.
Hi honey.
Hi mom. you ride in silence.
When your parents told you about this therapy appointment, you were fine with it.
But now that it's actually happening, you're not sure it's a good idea.
What if you don't like this therapist?
What if she doesn't like you?
What if she tells you there's something wrong with you?
You put on your headphones, close your eyes, and try to let the music distract you from your nerves.
But soon, we're here.
Your mom's voice jolts you back to real life.
She walks with you into the therapist's waiting room.
Normally you like looking around a new place, imagining how you'd draw it, but now you're too anxious to let your eyes rest on anything.
You slump down on the waiting room couch and chew your fingernails.
Your mom puts her hand on your shoulder, Hey you don't have to worry.
All the therapist is going to do is listen to you.
She wants to hear your story.
That's her whole job.
Your mom knows how much you like telling stories from your life.
She's trying to make therapy sound fun, but you tell stories through your comics.
Not like this.
Not out loud, in front of a grown-up you've never even met before.
You stand up and take a breath.
You want to tell your mom you have to leave, but the words don't come out fast enough.
The door to the therapist's office creaks open.
It's too late.
Your heart pounds.
Your mom nudges you to step inside the office but you freeze.
How are you going to share your story when you feel so scared?
When you meet your therapist, she says it's okay to be scared.
Gradually, over a few sessions, she helps you find the words to talk about your anxiety.
The full-body freezes you've been having are called panic attacks, and your fear of throwing up is emetophobia.
It's actually pretty common, and talking about it really helps.
The panic attacks start happening less often.
You worry a little bit less about getting sick, which makes it easier to go to school and have fun with your friends.
You even tell some of them about therapy.
Much to your surprise, some of them have therapists too.
It feels so good to know you're not alone.
You continue making comics and you feel more confident drawing your life and how it is now.
Even the hard stuff.
Therapy has taught you the power of speaking the truth, both the good and the bad.
After high school, you enroll in art school and start printing your own mini comics to sell.
Your work attracts the attention of a publishing company and they hire you to make comic book versions of some popular novels for kids.
You're officially a published author.
You continue making your own comics at night and posting them online.
Sharing your story has always made you smile.
You hope your work will make other people smile too.
You're in a huge high school gymnasium, but you're not in high school.
You're in your 30s now and attending a book fair where kids can buy new books and sometimes meet the authors.
On the table in front of you are copies of your very own book.
It's a graphic memoir and it's about your life.
You feel nervous as kids file into the book.
Fair, superhero and manga comics are what most kids buy at these events.
Your book is just a story of how you knocked your two front teeth out in junior high.
Will anyone be interested?
You hadn't realized how full the gym would get, and a familiar anxiety creeps into your body as more and more people come in.
You still worry about getting sick, and big crowds can be intimidating.
You pause and remember some of the techniques you learned in therapy.
You look down at your feet and concentrate on how they feel touching the floor.
You take a breath in and out.
Better.
You're taking another big breath when... Oh my gosh!
Hi!
Did you write this book?
You look up.
A bright-eyed sixth grader is standing at your table.
Oh, yeah.
I did.
It's about... I know what it's about.
I've read it six times.
You did?
I knocked a tooth out two summers ago.
I had braces just like this girl in the book.
She's just like me.
Is that you?
Did that really happen to you?
Wow.
Yeah, it did.
Everything in the book is basically true.
I love it so much.
Can I have your autograph?
Your sixth grade fan goes on to tell you how hard it was to have braces, retainers and what felt like a million dentist appointments to fix her teeth.
She was teased by some of her friends, just like you were.
Your book helped her get through a really tough time.
She finally felt like there was someone out there just like her.
You can't believe how excited she is just to meet you.
And she's not the only one.
More and more kids crowd your table.
Can I take a picture with you?
I love your book.
Look, I have braces right now.
When the book fair ends, you're still talking to the last kid in line.
He seems shy.
Did you draw everything in this yourself?
I did.
Do you like to draw?
He nods eagerly, then looks down at the floor.
You know, your story is just as important as mine.
Maybe you should make your own comics.
He smiles.
Then he asks if you're going to make more books.
Of course you will.
As he waves and walks away, you realize you've been smiling so much your cheeks hurt.
You loved meeting so many kids, and you're proud your book is making a difference in their lives.
It inspires you to head home and immediately get back to work.
You know your art can make you and your readers feel less alone, and you can't wait to tell more of the stories you care about most.
Your graphic memoir, Smile, becomes a number one New York Times bestseller.
Your comic book adaptations of the Babysitter's Club novels are successful, too.
You write two more graphic memoirs and two graphic novels, and all four hit number one on the New York Times bestseller list.
Your third graphic memoir, Guts, is especially personal.
It's about your experience with anxiety, emetophobia, and therapy.
At book signings and events.
You meet hundreds of kids who tell you that your story helped them talk about their own mental health.
Many of them found the courage to go to therapy because of you.
Your realistic stories about your life are so popular, you helped launch a whole new category in your industry the middle grade graphic memoir.
You proved to the world that kids will read comics that aren't just about superheroes, and that boys and girls love comics of all kinds.
So many kids tell you that you inspired them to start making their own comics that in 2019, you published a young writer's guide for beginning cartoonists.
You're the winner of five Will Eisner Awards, the most prestigious awards in the comics industry.
Today, with more than 18 million books in print, you're one of the most beloved and successful graphic novelists of all time.
You are Raina Telgemeier.
If you like, Whose Amazing Life.
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From Wondery, this is Who's Amazing Life.
This episode contains reenactments and dramatized details.
While we can't know exactly what was said, we use many sources when researching our stories.
Some that were particularly helpful include The Magic of Raina Israel from The Atlantic.
In the podcast episode, graphic novelist Raina Telgemeier taps into adolescent anxiety from KQED's Forum with Mina Kim and Alexis Madrigal.
I'm your host, Rach Jackson.
This episode was written by Lizzy Prestel.
Sound design by Andre Plus.
Additional audio assistance by Sergio Enriquez.
Desi Blalock and Matt Gant are our managing producers.
Our senior producers are Megan Begala, Jenny Bloom, and Jennifer Klein Walker.
Executive producers are Lauren Dee, Marshall Louie, and Aaron O'Flaherty for Wondery.
