A landmark graphic novel debut and groundbreaking work of trauma recollection told in the style of post-war children’s comics. “If an exorcism can ever be slow and quiet, then every panel I’ve finished has felt something like an exorcism. The gutters give me space to make sense of things: to connect dots and close gaps. To remember.” Kayla E.’s Precious Rubbish is an experimental graphic memoir drawn in a style that references the aesthetics of mid-century children’s comics and tells the story of a childhood shaped by maternal emotional dysregulation, rural poverty, and incest. The author’s childhood is portrayed as a collection of short-form comics and gag panels punctuated by interactive elements like paper dolls, satirical advertisements, games, and puzzles.
While the work is concerned with violence and a particularly Texan brand of Pentecostal fanaticism, it is presented in a playful visual language with a deadpan humor that elevates the material beyond mere graphic memoir. Precious Rubbish is a landmark work of comics storytelling and graphic medicine.
The debut graphic novel from artist Kayla E., Precious Rubbish asks the reader to do the extratextual work of filling out narrative gaps, which mirrors the challenge of trauma recollection. The reader is invited to co-labor in the meaning-making process, an exercise that facilitates an intimacy (between the author, the subject, and the reader) that is at once horrifying and hilarious.
Kayla E. is an American cartoonist. She was born and grew up in Texas and earned a BA in Visual and Environmental Studies from Harvard University, where she served as the Art Director for the Harvard Lampoon. Kayla E. currently lives in North Carolina and works as creative director at Fantagraphics Books. Her graphic novel debut is Precious Rubbish (2025), a work of trauma recollection told in the style of post-war children’s comics.
Heartbreaking, shocking, unspeakable. Some words that come to me thinking about this book. A collection of memories from a horrific childhood, beautifully visualised in a kind of naive art style, that actually makes the whole more horrifying and unsettling.
There is a sense of humour under all of it, I did laugh a couple of times. You'd think the horror of abuse might get repetitive, but it never does. I can't emphasise how great a feat that is, by the way.
Really good.
(Thanks to Fantagraphics for providing me with a review copy through NetGalley)
I had the pleasure of interviewing Kayla E. for an article I wrote about the release of Precious Rubbish! She was such an incredibly intelligent and thoughtful interviewee– link to that piece here: https://828newsnow.com/news/228822-ka...
In the meantime, I highly, highly recommend picking up a copy of this book when it comes out. It'll make your stomach hurt, if you're into that sort of thing in your literature, but it's one of the cleverest memoirs about childhood abuse and neglect you'll likely ever read.
E. uses the imagery of old 40s and 50s cartoons, like Archie digest comics, to create a web of interconnected comic vignettes exploring the abuse she endured as a child growing up in rural Texas.
In my favorite quote from our conversation, she explained, "that is like the main impulse. That's what's underneath this interest in utilizing this work, is to tell stories about what really happens to little girls and to just turn this world on its head and lift the veil of the things that are probably happening in Riverdale that they would never show in Archie."
It's beautiful, devastating graphic storytelling. Find a copy here.
This comic will break you, shock you, punch you in the gut, and make you feel. Really, truly feel.
Kayla E combines the cartooning mindsets of Chris Ware, Ivan Brunetti, and Archie comics with bright primary colors to share her memoir of childhood trauma. It’s horrific and beautiful all at once.
Interspersed between strips are fake ads, always in the color yellow, that act as a momentary disassociation from the events occurring, as if we the reader are daydreaming with Lil Kayla.
I think maybe, if you are someone who has gone through shit as a kid, this book will make you feel less alone
A part of this comic is going to live in my head forever.
Kayla E.’s Precious Rubbish is an artful memoir of a traumatic childhood. It is also unreadable.
Presented through the garish sheen of 1950s type and iconography, the book offers readers a memoir of domestic abuse, incest, alcoholism, religious fundamentalism, and emergent queer identity. Visually, it's excellent.
Kayla E. peppers the fragmented narrative with multimodal activities, willfully objectifying herself and her trauma so that readers are aware of their own complicity in consuming something so horrific. There are recipes, mazes, paper dolls, and word searches that repeatedly invite the reader to make a squeamish choice—participate, and learn more devastating details, or skip over the games for a more palatable, self-preserving read.
Precious Rubbish is so smart.
I also can’t, in good conscience, really recommend it to most readers.
The comic form creates just enough distance to anonymize the narrative, and when the author simplifies herself into a cartoon, she seems to perpetuate the dehumanization she writes about. Without a “real” person at the center of the book, it reads like trauma for its own sake, which ultimately lands as titillation. This problem is further compounded by an overarching, acerbic cynicism. With even the faintest glimmer of optimism, maybe the book would still feel purposeful, but it seems to revel in its aestheticized misery. There's a thin line between vulnerability and self-flagellation, and I think many readers will conflate the two and label this a "brave" and "incredible" book.
Maybe it is, but I am unconvinced.
I'll say this—the best memoirs feel like the natural conclusion of extended reflection. Precious Rubbish feels like an emotional work-in-progress—a therapeutic exercise that could eventually be an incredible book. As it stands, it’s a little too raw to feel complete for this particular reader.
Think like if Little Lulu and Sluggo and that freaky Jack in the box from the Harvey comics logo lived together and had a horrifying love child who they freaking abused enough that the kid exacted its own revenge through a retro-memoir comic and retribLOLation.
Plus crying.
Never seen anything else like this-quite phenomenal. While the story was off-and-on engaging to me, I’m giving four stars merely for its innovation and therapeutic strength.
This is a deconstructed childhood trauma memoir re-built in fragments: vignettes, faux ads, and paper-doll cutouts. Its style borrows from midcentury ads, children’s activity books, and commercial illustration, creating an inviting surface that gradually reveals stories of religious fanaticism and domestic violence.
The stylizing is effective, so much so that it caught the eye of my four year old daughter when I picked it up from the library. I flipped through quickly so she could see some of the less disturbing images and explained it was a book written for adults and we could read it together when she was older.
The childlike simplicity heightens rather than softens the disturbing material. Smiling children, cheery graphics, and bright colors double as masks for violence, forcing the reader to reconcile the surface charm with what lies beneath.
The fractured narrative form mirrors the way traumatic memory emerges in shards. At some points this creates intimacy and immediacy. At others, it alienates and abstracts. I do think this was the author’s intention. They are addressing severe and disturbing abuse in a very open and plain spoken way. The use of biblical verse and Bechdel-ish rehashing of psychological and therapeutic terminology reinforces the abstraction and provides some welcome clinical distance from the harsh reality of the story.
It’s clear that Kayla E has a deep knowledge of the history of comics and their style incorporates much of it effectively all while maintaining an open and raw tone. Though, ultimately I was left wanting a little bit more. This will surely be too much for some, but I’ll definitely pick up whatever they put out next.
Kayla E. has been long involved with the design of several books published by Fantagraphics in her role as a creative director, and now flexes her immense talent as a cartoonist with her debut comic, Precious Rubbish. Having presented excerpts of the work in the last few volumes of NOW (with her artwork gracing the cover of last year's NOW #13), I was interested to see how the complete package came together as a graphic novel. Presented primarily as single page or panel strips, Precious Rubbish takes a penetrating gaze into Kayla E.'s unyielding childhood traumas.
Using a format similar to that of a children's workbook complete with word searches, puzzles and bold primary colored infographics, the design element here is simply impeccable. The juvenile style of the artwork allows the feeling of stolen innocence to hit that much harder, a cruel juxtaposition that resonates the whole way through. Though told in strips, a narrative throughline emerges quickly. A young Kayla E. experiences some harrowing amounts of abuse, putting Precious Rubbish up there with works like Debbie Drechsler's Daddy's Girl and Nina Bunjevac's Bezimina with just how difficult it can be to get through it all. Kayla E. is perhaps a little less blunt than those other works - she finds clever ways of smoothing out some of the rougher details - but there's still an inherent challenge posed to the reader to understand that the stuff here is absolutely not pleasant.
The comic strip styled storytelling coupled with the nonlinear narrative allows individual moments to breathe and be memorable on their own. One might expect a fair bit of narrative repetition with this format, but it rarely feels like it is. There's enough brevity here to not feel like we're ever dwelling on one memory remnant for too long, so ultimately we're left with a mortifying panorama of a hindered childhood that is worth understanding and empathizing with. Precious Rubbish is an artistic feat, not just because of the subject matter, but rather the way Kayla E. finds a way to present an all too common story in a truly unconventional and creative way.
The author shares a lot of pain and insight, but as this isn't a graphic novel but rather a collection of short material that has appeared in a couple dozen publications over the course of many years, the overall impact is lessoned by the episodic, random, and chaotic nature of the material. Traumatic incidents thread through bible passages, ad parodies, activity pages (mazes, word jumbles, etc.), pin-ups, quotations, games, short gag strips, and longer comic sequences. There is some repetition as the same subject is approached from different angles.
The art is curious. It seems to make use of a lot of cut and paste heads. And in the end notes, for almost every page of the book the author credits an extensive list of old Archie and Harvey comic books from which the art has been "adapted." And yet, when I pulled my copy of Richie Rich and Casper (1974 series) #30 and compared the story " . . . And Nothing But the Truth" to page 157 of this book, "I Want to Save You from Your Sorrow," I could find no similarities at all between the two. I don't know if I'm missing something or if it is a very loose adaptation, an editorial error, or an intentional prank on anal retentive readers like me.
The book has interesting moments, and the author has my sympathies, but the nature of the work just kept me at a distance from it.
(Best of 2025 Project: I'm reading all the graphic novels that made it onto one or more of these lists:
A version of some of the comics in this book first appeared in Mineshaft No. 45, F Magazine No. 12 (F Mag), NOW Nos. 11-13 (Fantagraphics), Precious Rubbish Volume 1 Nos. 1-5 (self-published), Precious Rubbish Volume 2 Nos. 1-3 (self published), Precious Rubble "Fun Time Fun Book" (self-published), The Dreadfuls Special (Rotland Press), Black Eye No. 3 (Rotland Press), All of Them Witches (Nat. Brut Inc.), The Comics Journal #305 (Fantagraphics), Not All Men! No. 1 (Nat. Brut Inc.), Resist! Vol. 2 (Desert Island Comics), Booth Journal No. 12 (Butler University), Precious Rubbish: Single Shot (Rotland Press), The Spectacle (Washington University in St. Louis), The Pandemic Post No. 2, NPR Illustration (National Public Radio), The Boiler Journal, The Seventh Wave No. 4 (The Seventh Wave Inc.), The Southeast Review No. 35.2 (Florida State University), and Rough House Vol. 3.
Got an ARC from Fantagraphics Books through NetGalley. This graphic novel was confusing and terrifying me at the same time. It was so dark and unhinged. Yet I kept reading, and at the end of the book, I was speechless because I truly had no word. I could mostly understand the story through the illustrations, but I'm not gonna lie, I might have a nightmare or two from this book because the illustrations were so dark and scary. I couldn't imagine how this is based on the author's true story. I might throw up twice.
I picked up Precious Rubbish a few months ago because I was fascinated by the advertising image that showed a little girl drunk with a bottle of XXX. "Oh", I said, "a drunk little brat...I want to know more."
Well, the little girl turns out to be drunk, but not a brat. More of an angel, actually, bedeviled by a childhood from hell. Psycho mom, incest, poverty...what's not to love? Aren't we all drawn to descriptions of misery?
If that's what you want, you'll be well satisfied.
But wait, there's more! Want taste, humor, style, wisdom and especially surprise, too? Want to be chained in marvel to the unabashed creativity and originality of the page? You won't be disappointed.
Say what? You want even more? Absolutely. Included in this offer is hope. There are no crybabies here, no soul-searching romantic, self-consumed, me me me Debbie Downers. L'il Kayla is a warrior survivor. But she doesn't even go on about that; you know it only because she's written the book and has lived to tell the tale. And let's be frank: she beat suicide. Several times. I'd like to suggest to you that this book could change your life if you feel you can't hang around any longer. L'il Kayla proves you can.
It's been months since I've looked at Precious Rubbish, and yet the thought of it still moves me, and makes me thankful for the beautiful mind of an author willing to share her story no holes barred.
It's beautiful. It's beautiful. Before I go on, I need you to know, it's beautiful.
Because I'm not sure I possess the writing skills to properly give you an idea of what reading this book is like.
I have never had the experience of not being able to put a book down while at the same time not being able to take it anymore.
We use metaphors when we don't know how to put things, right? So let's picture your best friend telling you about a horrific event they have never told anymore, and while telling you this they can't stop laughing about it. And you feel like you should laugh because they are laughing, but you know it's not funny and you feel bad every time you almost laugh. But you feel awkward not laughing too because it's being told to you like it's funny, even though it is so clearly not. You're riveted, you're exasperated, you simply don't know how you're supposed to feel, and you can't stop listening. That's what reading this book is like.
If you like art that makes you feel things, you'll appreciate this book as the masterpiece that it is. The juxtapositions are intense and amazing, the attention to detail and subtle idiosyncrasies in the art are incredible, and the recipes look great to boot.
This book is literally exceptional in 100 different ways, and I recommend it to anyone who can think and feel at the same time.
A gut-wrenching memoir made digestible thanks to Kayla's (ironically) playful, darkly comic, and masterfully executed illustrations. (Notably, the author's baby pic in her bio -- the one piece of the story not shielded by brightly colored illustrations -- was the thing that finally brought me to tears.) Kayla's grim sense of humor about her childhood trauma shines in the ads and games scattered throughout the book. Brilliant incorporation of religion. I really can't even do this book justice with my review, but suffice to say, I will not stop thinking about this genius work for a long time, and I am sure I will continue to return to it on my bookshelf (though I'll have to hide the hardcopy from my four year old since many of the illustrations *go there*). A++++++
Rounded up from 4.5. I love how this book is organized, with its stories, 1-page scenes, puzzles, advertisements, etc to create a multi-layered tale. The contrast between the drawings that are reminiscent of historical children’s comics and the author’s personal story of childhood neglect and abuse is jarring. It’s a difficult story to read but powerful and extremely well-executed.
This book was incredible. I’ve honestly never read anything like it - so playful and yet complex and painful and so so so so beautifully weird aesthetically. Such a potent capture of long term effects of childhood trauma.
In the acknowledgments section she mentioned Chris Ware is one of her mentors. This was noticeable as soon as you open the book for the first time. The design here is incredible.
Her art is simple, but impactful. The stories go into some dark territory, but this is so fast paced that it doesn’t really let the scenes breathe. If it slowed down a bit, then we could sit on some of these events instead of moving along instantly.
I purchased directly from Kayla E at a convention. She was delightful. I’ll keep an eye out for her future projects.
A gut punch of an artistic achievement that I will nonetheless have trouble recommending to most people because of the harrowing content.
Precious Rubbish is a fragmentary memoir of childhood abuse and neglect. Told in a collage-like style of advertisements, games, and comic strips that recall childhood classics like Nancy, Popeye, and Archie, it uses the form and structure of comics to masterful effect. The gaps and lacunae echo the memory loss and blackouts of severe trauma, while the cartoonish visuals offset but do not erase the horror. There is distance, but no relief.
As someone with a non-zero ACES score myself, this book made me physically ill and gave me a panic attack. But in a good way! Five stars!
Reading Precious Rubbish broke my heart for little Kayla, her strength, courage, and resilience. That she could turn her trauma into such a thoroughly original work of genius is a testimonial to the finest qualities of humanity and artistry. … I’m speechless.
Made up of self-contained, confessional vignettes, the book is bound together by E.’s distinctive voice and style. The subject matter is heavy, yet the work is inventive, subversive, unsettling—and at times, even funny. It’s also deeply moving.
Steeped in the visual idioms of mid-century children’s comics, E. annotates her influences and channels these traditions into something entirely her own.
The result is a work that feels both rooted in history and wholly personal.
Really powerful book. The events detailed in the pages are rough but what strikes me most is the pain clear in the art and the fucking guts the author took to publish it.
I had the opportunity to hear Kayla speak in Asheville a few months ago and hearing her talk about her book made me really want to read it. I loved the vintage comic style and the color scheme. The way the “ads” were incorporated into the store made me feel like I was reading a comic from the ‘40s/‘50s but also watching ads on TV. That was really really well done. I have never read an autobiography in graphic novel form, so I found it very inventive. But be prepared for the massive trauma dump and trigger warning for just about everything you can possible think of.
Oh wow. I found this graphic memoir about the author’s horrifying childhood experiences with extreme abuse and neglect really hard to read, but it also was so fascinatingly illustrated and powerfully written that I pushed through. I’m glad I did, but there’s some stuff that will be sitting with me for a while.
i had the absolute PRIVILEGE of sitting in on kayla e.’s book talk at the university i work at and she was so kind and gracious and glowing from the inside out it stuns me the content she provided in this book. i hope that she lives every day in warmth and love because she has CERTAINLY EARNED IT