Mis(h)adra is a graphic novel that vividly depicts the daily life of an Arab-American epileptic named Isaac. Isaac wants nothing more than to be a functional college student -- but managing his epilepsy is an exhausting battle to survive. He attempts to maintain a balancing act between his seizure triggers and his day-to-day schedule, but finds that nothing -- not even his medication -- seems to work. The doctors won't listen, the schoolwork keeps piling up, his family is in denial about his condition, and his social life falls apart as he feels more and more isolated by his illness. Even with an unexpected new friend by his side, so much is up against him that Isaac is starting to think his epilepsy may be unbeatable. Mis(h)adra has resonated with readers and reviewers alike for its vivid and searingly honest depiction of the epileptic lived experience, based very much on my own struggles, triumphs, and journey with a misunderstood condition in today's hectic and uninformed world. Published by Gallery 13 (Simon & Schuster).
Please feel free to read the first scene of the book below. This comic is possibly triggering for severe anxiety, depression, physical trauma, emotional trauma, PTSD, gore, graphic imagery, and body horror.
“A powerful story about not only physical pain, but also the pain of self-doubt and hopelessness. Mis(h)adra beautifully illustrates the struggle to stand up to that inner hopelessness and come out the other end stronger than ever. Iasmin Omar Ata is a singular voice in modern comics, and their work is not to be overlooked.”
-- Kris Mukai
“Mis(h)adra is magical. A stunning, original debut for Ata.”
— Sam Humphries
“The bravery and crushing sincerity of Iasmin's storytelling is only topped by their lyrical and stylistic grasp of comics as a medium; every block of color and every line clearly transcribe moments of fear, desperation and hope. A truly beautifully crafted and genuine experience we are lucky to be able to read.” -- Sloane Leong
"Mis(h)adra is unlike any other comic. It has its own danger and its own light. It cut me to my core."
-- Laura Knetzger