CLICK ON BOOK COVER TO PURCHASE
277 BOOKS
THIS PAGE = 72 BOOKS
Before the Page = 205 Books
Before the Page = 205 Books
Read in 2022 (This Page)
4 in Top 10
2 in Top 10
2 in Top 10
2 in Top 10
CLICK AUTHORS NAME TO BE WHISKED TO THEIR WEBSITE
- Lucy by the Sea - Elizabeth Strout
- Amy & Lan - Sadie Jones
- Holden: After & Before - Tara McGuire
- Antkind - Charlie Kaufman
- BYSTANDER - MIKE STEVES
- BOY IN THE BLUE HAMMOCK - DARREN GROTH
- THE FUNNY THING ABOUT NORMAN - JULIETTA HENDERSON
- We Spread - Ian Reid
- LEAVING ISN'T THE HARDEST THING - LARUEN HOUGH
- Tales From the Cafe - Toshikazu Kawaguchi
- All the Light We Cannot See - Anthony Doerr
- Olive Again - Elizabeth Strout
- Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine - Gail Honeyman
- The Animals - Cary Fagan
- We Are the Light - Matthew Quick
- We Were Dreamers - Simu Liu
- People Person - Candy Carty-Williams
- Junie - Chelene Knight
- The Fire Next Time - James Baldwin
- Hey, Good Luck Out There - Georgia Toews
- UNREST - EMMA Côté
- Reputation - Sarah Vaughn
- The New Me - Halle Butler
- 10 Days that Shaped Modern Canada - Aaron Hughes
- OwÓknage - Jim Tanner
- Gentrification is Inevitable and Other Lies - Leslie Kern
- NSFW - Isabel Kaplan
- Blue Portugal - Theresa Kishkan
- Is There Bacon in Heaven? - Ali Hassan
- The Education of Augie Merasty - Joseph Auguste Merasty, David Miranda
- Stories I Might Regret Telling You - Martha Wainwright
- THIS BRIGHT FUTURE - BOBBY HALL
- The Picture of Dorian Gray - Oscar Wilde
- Making a Scene - Constanze Wu
- HER PRETTY FACE - ROBYN HARDING
- THE PERFECT FAMILY - ROBYN HARDING
- BLUEBIRD - GENEVIEVE GRAHAM
- Stories From The Tennants Downstairs - Sidik Fofana
- Cold Cold Bones - Kathy Reichs
- Scoundrel - Sarah Weinman
- The It Girl - Ruth Wares
- THE CHAIN - ADRIAN McKINTY
- REMNANTS - Céline HUGHYEBAERT
- the book of smaller - ROB MCLENNAN
- GIRL IN ICE - ERICA FERENCIK
- THE EMPLOYEES - OLGA RAVN
- NEVERWHERE - NEIL GAIMAN
- The Candy House - Jennifer Egan
- CREATIVE TYPES - TOM BISSELL
- HEROIN (AN ILLUSTRATED HISTORY) - SUSAN BOYD
- GOOD MOM ON PAPER
- Dream On - Angie Hockman
- A HERO OF OUR TIME - NABEN RUTHNUM
- PITCHBLENE - ELISE MARCELLA GODFREY
- DADDY STORIES - EMMA CLINE
- GROWN UPS - MARIAN KEYES
- FEVER DREAM - SAMANTHA SCWEBLIN
- For the Love of Learning - Kristen Phillips
- MOTHER TONGUE - BILL BRYSON
- LIVE ONES - SADIE McCARNEY
- BLACKBIRD SONG - RANDY LUNDY
- The Last One To Vanish - Megan Miranda
- Not the Kind of Apocalypse I Was Hoping For - Leslie Greentree
- Participation - Anna Moschovakis
- A KID CALLED CHATTER - CHRIS KELLY
- Call Me By Your Name - Andre Aciman
- HOOPED - MICHAEL BAINS
- LOU WHO? - LOUISE JOHNSON
- NOTICE - DUSTIN COLE
- I WISH I COULD BE PETER FALK - PAUL ZITS
- DUCKS NEWBURYPORT - LUCY ELLMANN
- HIGH ACHIEVER - TIFFANY JENKINS
BLUE = MEMOIR OR BIOGRAPHICAL
BLACK = FICTION
DARK RED = EDUCATIONAL
PURPLE = ESSAY OR STORIES
ORANGE = POETRY
BLACK = FICTION
DARK RED = EDUCATIONAL
PURPLE = ESSAY OR STORIES
ORANGE = POETRY
26
|
Elizabeth Strout
|
Oscar Wilde
|
|
|
Strout is a phantasmagorical writer…
How did the book make me feel/think?
I picked up Olive Again because Lucy By The Sea by Elizabeth Strout was my favourite read of 2022.
I was unaware this was the continuing story of Olive Kitteridge. It didn’t matter. I don’t think it would matter if it was the seventh book in the series. It stands alone.
Strout is a phantasmagorical writer, with her creation Olive being a delightfully quirky and sometimes caustic outsider, like many or most of us, who holds no punches but somehow carries a little of each of us in her soul.
We can all be caustic, but few can reveal unbounded compassion and empathy in their seemingly unapproachable demeanour.
What I find Strout does deftly, like a few authors, is create characters who are polar opposites—but still, somehow, they understand each other, bringing us together in this world where forces are continually trying to tear us apart.
We need more Olive’s in this world. Olive understands that a person’s life belongs to them and only them and that we cannot blame someone for how they have been conditioned by the 24/7 barrage of noise we face daily.
WRITTEN: 3 March 2023
How did the book make me feel/think?
I picked up Olive Again because Lucy By The Sea by Elizabeth Strout was my favourite read of 2022.
I was unaware this was the continuing story of Olive Kitteridge. It didn’t matter. I don’t think it would matter if it was the seventh book in the series. It stands alone.
Strout is a phantasmagorical writer, with her creation Olive being a delightfully quirky and sometimes caustic outsider, like many or most of us, who holds no punches but somehow carries a little of each of us in her soul.
We can all be caustic, but few can reveal unbounded compassion and empathy in their seemingly unapproachable demeanour.
What I find Strout does deftly, like a few authors, is create characters who are polar opposites—but still, somehow, they understand each other, bringing us together in this world where forces are continually trying to tear us apart.
We need more Olive’s in this world. Olive understands that a person’s life belongs to them and only them and that we cannot blame someone for how they have been conditioned by the 24/7 barrage of noise we face daily.
WRITTEN: 3 March 2023
What price is too high for immortality?
How did the book make me feel/think?
I’m now in my sixties.
I’m now at the stage of life where more people are moving on to whatever is next instead of attending weddings.
I’m scared. Mortality occasionally bangs at my door. A stroke. Other crap, and then other crap.
But even so, I want more life.
I’m confident I have many moons left.
I’ve decided I want to live till 135.
I don’t think I could handle more than that because the pain of loss would eventually become too overwhelming.
At my current age, trying to understand the language those younger than me speak is impossible.
I want to stay relevant. But at what cost?
For me, The Picture of Dorian Gray, dissects our soul; it’s a psychological thriller posing the question: What price is too high for immortality?
Life plays out how life is meant to play out in all its glorious tragedy.
When I reach 135, I wonder who I’ll be able to relate to?
What will replace the cell phone—most of us have attached to our right hand?
What language are twenty-year-olds speaking now?
As fascinating as the answers may be, I just want to go for a walk.
I think I may have spent too much time in the sun when I was younger.
Oh yeah, I didn't love this book. At times if felt like I was reading quicksand.
WRITTEN: 23 Feb 2023
How did the book make me feel/think?
I’m now in my sixties.
I’m now at the stage of life where more people are moving on to whatever is next instead of attending weddings.
I’m scared. Mortality occasionally bangs at my door. A stroke. Other crap, and then other crap.
But even so, I want more life.
I’m confident I have many moons left.
I’ve decided I want to live till 135.
I don’t think I could handle more than that because the pain of loss would eventually become too overwhelming.
At my current age, trying to understand the language those younger than me speak is impossible.
I want to stay relevant. But at what cost?
For me, The Picture of Dorian Gray, dissects our soul; it’s a psychological thriller posing the question: What price is too high for immortality?
Life plays out how life is meant to play out in all its glorious tragedy.
When I reach 135, I wonder who I’ll be able to relate to?
What will replace the cell phone—most of us have attached to our right hand?
What language are twenty-year-olds speaking now?
As fascinating as the answers may be, I just want to go for a walk.
I think I may have spent too much time in the sun when I was younger.
Oh yeah, I didn't love this book. At times if felt like I was reading quicksand.
WRITTEN: 23 Feb 2023
| 26._book_thoughts_-_batch_26.pdf |
25
|
Andre Aciman
Toshikazu Kawaguchi
|
Anthony Doerr
Anna Moschovakis
|
Halle Butler
Gail Honeyman
|
Georgia Toews
James Baldwin
|
Leslie Greentree
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
I wanted to love this book, but I did not.
How did the book make me feel/think?
I’m still giving it 5 Stars—does that make me hypocritical?
The movie won an Academy Award.
I’m probably going to burn in the netherworld because of my disdain.
Why didn’t I like the book?
Because I struggled to believe these characters were real, I don’t think there is a 17-year-old on the planet who feels like the main character. Everything is not so fricken important, cerebral, intellectual; which for this reader, turned the prose into something stilted... pedantic.
I don’t know who this book is for?
A 17-year-old falls for a 22-year-old writer, and he pines and pines and pines.
The story was written for a straight audience (I think), perhaps leaning toward a female audience, tossing in Italy to give it a (romantic) cultural footing. I think readers were supposed to feel they are tripping into a different world, making them more accepting of the lifestyles of others?
I’ll stop now; the coals are getting hot.
I didn’t get it.
I tried to watch the movie.
I didn’t get it.
Perhaps I’m dead inside.
Substitute a 17-year-old female for the protagonist, and this book would never exist.
|Full Stop|
Am I dead inside?
WRITTEN: 21 Feb 2023
How did the book make me feel/think?
I’m still giving it 5 Stars—does that make me hypocritical?
The movie won an Academy Award.
I’m probably going to burn in the netherworld because of my disdain.
Why didn’t I like the book?
Because I struggled to believe these characters were real, I don’t think there is a 17-year-old on the planet who feels like the main character. Everything is not so fricken important, cerebral, intellectual; which for this reader, turned the prose into something stilted... pedantic.
I don’t know who this book is for?
A 17-year-old falls for a 22-year-old writer, and he pines and pines and pines.
The story was written for a straight audience (I think), perhaps leaning toward a female audience, tossing in Italy to give it a (romantic) cultural footing. I think readers were supposed to feel they are tripping into a different world, making them more accepting of the lifestyles of others?
I’ll stop now; the coals are getting hot.
I didn’t get it.
I tried to watch the movie.
I didn’t get it.
Perhaps I’m dead inside.
Substitute a 17-year-old female for the protagonist, and this book would never exist.
|Full Stop|
Am I dead inside?
WRITTEN: 21 Feb 2023
The words sing and dance off of every page.
How did the book make me feel/think?
All The Light We Cannot See, is chock full of exquisite metaphors, the words sing and dance off of every page.
Doerr’s writing is beyond gorgeous, and his mastery of painting a picture is second to none.
I’m not sure what the last sentence means.
I loved this book.
We cannot outrun our pasts. We must learn to exist together. Atrocities have been chasing humankind forever and likely will always be. We are flawed, passionate, dysfunctional, full of unlimited possibilities, boundless rage, and the insanity of division.
As humankind lives and relives its past, I hope we move forward swaddled in the prose and hope Doerr provides us with on every page.
Will we survive?
WRITTEN: 14 Feb 2023
How did the book make me feel/think?
All The Light We Cannot See, is chock full of exquisite metaphors, the words sing and dance off of every page.
Doerr’s writing is beyond gorgeous, and his mastery of painting a picture is second to none.
I’m not sure what the last sentence means.
I loved this book.
We cannot outrun our pasts. We must learn to exist together. Atrocities have been chasing humankind forever and likely will always be. We are flawed, passionate, dysfunctional, full of unlimited possibilities, boundless rage, and the insanity of division.
As humankind lives and relives its past, I hope we move forward swaddled in the prose and hope Doerr provides us with on every page.
Will we survive?
WRITTEN: 14 Feb 2023
Love or Anti-Love; is there a difference?
How did the book make me feel/think?
Fragmented. Subversive. Darkly Humorous. Thought eviscerating.
I love you. You don’t know how to love back. We don’t share the same pain, dreams, and fantasies.
How do we survive a collapsing world when tragedy strikes close to home?
How do we elevate beacons of hope?
Is life worthy of us?
A deep thought. Another.
I turn the page.
I’m lost.
I need to think.
I find myself on the next page.
Participation is a rapturous ride, twisting and winding your mind into a fraying coil that slowly unravels, allowing you to discover gems of life hidden inside the delicious and somewhat endearing prose.
Love or Anti-Love, is there a difference?
Thanks to Book*Hug Press, they regularly take readers outside the vapid formulaic world of storytelling into worlds we live in but are often too blind to see.
WRITTEN: 13 Feb 2023
How did the book make me feel/think?
Fragmented. Subversive. Darkly Humorous. Thought eviscerating.
I love you. You don’t know how to love back. We don’t share the same pain, dreams, and fantasies.
How do we survive a collapsing world when tragedy strikes close to home?
How do we elevate beacons of hope?
Is life worthy of us?
A deep thought. Another.
I turn the page.
I’m lost.
I need to think.
I find myself on the next page.
Participation is a rapturous ride, twisting and winding your mind into a fraying coil that slowly unravels, allowing you to discover gems of life hidden inside the delicious and somewhat endearing prose.
Love or Anti-Love, is there a difference?
Thanks to Book*Hug Press, they regularly take readers outside the vapid formulaic world of storytelling into worlds we live in but are often too blind to see.
WRITTEN: 13 Feb 2023
The horrible hand dealt your way has blessed you with individuality.
How did the book make me feel/think?
Your life cards have been dealt.
You look at your hand; OMG.
Your Parents = Whatever.
The world awaits you. Good luck. You are not equipped to navigate life. But the horrible hand dealt your way has blessed you with individuality. You stick out. You don’t belong. But you are self-aware. You understand limitations. You want more. But, really, are you equipped to chase what you want and need?
Probably not.
You are laughed at.
You are shunned.
You are an outsider to the world. You laugh.
You hide inside yourself.
You’re honest.
Someone cracks your shell. Laughter ensues. You chase a fantasy. You know that is all it is. It can’t save you. You can’t be saved. We can’t be saved. We are who we are.
Your shell cracks open more. There is tenderness in your soul. Your oddity makes you vulnerable and loveable. Crack the shell more, and it might surprise you with what you discover inside.
The New Me, is a hilarious and heart-wrenching story about the beauty found in being an outlier in a world moving at an unsustainable pace. Take a moment, read a page or two, and I guarantee you will find a little of yourself inside the main character’s soul.
Smile.
WRITTEN: 10 Feb 2023
How did the book make me feel/think?
Your life cards have been dealt.
You look at your hand; OMG.
Your Parents = Whatever.
The world awaits you. Good luck. You are not equipped to navigate life. But the horrible hand dealt your way has blessed you with individuality. You stick out. You don’t belong. But you are self-aware. You understand limitations. You want more. But, really, are you equipped to chase what you want and need?
Probably not.
You are laughed at.
You are shunned.
You are an outsider to the world. You laugh.
You hide inside yourself.
You’re honest.
Someone cracks your shell. Laughter ensues. You chase a fantasy. You know that is all it is. It can’t save you. You can’t be saved. We can’t be saved. We are who we are.
Your shell cracks open more. There is tenderness in your soul. Your oddity makes you vulnerable and loveable. Crack the shell more, and it might surprise you with what you discover inside.
The New Me, is a hilarious and heart-wrenching story about the beauty found in being an outlier in a world moving at an unsustainable pace. Take a moment, read a page or two, and I guarantee you will find a little of yourself inside the main character’s soul.
Smile.
WRITTEN: 10 Feb 2023
An inmate (person in rehab) is forced to fight demons. How do you survive?
How did the book make me feel/think?
What is wrong with rehab?
If you’re wealthy: Shower. Rich. Repeat.
If not: Good luck.
Hit bottom; be judged and stereotyped.
We’re doing this for you. Not us.
Don’t look at me; I didn’t do it to him/her. I played no role in your fall. So, I’m here to help you get up.
Sure, you are.
An inmate (person in rehab) is forced to fight demons. How do you survive?
You must laugh at life, yourself, those commissioned to pretend they help, the counsellors, instructors, and motivational speakers.
Cliques form. Trust doesn’t exist in the world of recovery.
Addiction = Paranoia = Yourself Against the World.
Sucks to be you.
Thrown back into the world of temptation. Where do you find the strength to go on?
I don’t think anybody really knows. I know that people crashing into the bottom likely don’t want to hear their suffering is not unique.
Hey, Good Luck Out There, is a hilariously subversive ride through the throes and aftermath of addiction, one of the best fiction reads in a long time!
WRITTEN: 10 Feb 2023
How did the book make me feel/think?
What is wrong with rehab?
If you’re wealthy: Shower. Rich. Repeat.
If not: Good luck.
Hit bottom; be judged and stereotyped.
We’re doing this for you. Not us.
Don’t look at me; I didn’t do it to him/her. I played no role in your fall. So, I’m here to help you get up.
Sure, you are.
An inmate (person in rehab) is forced to fight demons. How do you survive?
You must laugh at life, yourself, those commissioned to pretend they help, the counsellors, instructors, and motivational speakers.
Cliques form. Trust doesn’t exist in the world of recovery.
Addiction = Paranoia = Yourself Against the World.
Sucks to be you.
Thrown back into the world of temptation. Where do you find the strength to go on?
I don’t think anybody really knows. I know that people crashing into the bottom likely don’t want to hear their suffering is not unique.
Hey, Good Luck Out There, is a hilariously subversive ride through the throes and aftermath of addiction, one of the best fiction reads in a long time!
WRITTEN: 10 Feb 2023
Ripping the band-aid off the times we live in…
How did the book make me feel/think?
Bold?
Sure.
Disturbing?
Definitely.
Upsetting?
Yes.
Uproarious?
OMFG.
Life. Death. Politics. Fear.
What’s next?
A funeral as art?
That was the first story.
Haven’t we all loved a pet more than the people we must love?
Don’t answer.
Not The Apocalypse I Was Looking For by Leslie Greentree is a thirty-letter title fearlessly ripping the band-aid off the times we live in as humanity collectively tries to figure out what the heck is going on—maybe we need to slow down a little and breathe.
You will thank Greentree for her active mind after you devour the last word of this darkly poignant, somehow hilarious gem.
WRITTEN: 24 January 2023
How did the book make me feel/think?
Bold?
Sure.
Disturbing?
Definitely.
Upsetting?
Yes.
Uproarious?
OMFG.
Life. Death. Politics. Fear.
What’s next?
A funeral as art?
That was the first story.
Haven’t we all loved a pet more than the people we must love?
Don’t answer.
Not The Apocalypse I Was Looking For by Leslie Greentree is a thirty-letter title fearlessly ripping the band-aid off the times we live in as humanity collectively tries to figure out what the heck is going on—maybe we need to slow down a little and breathe.
You will thank Greentree for her active mind after you devour the last word of this darkly poignant, somehow hilarious gem.
WRITTEN: 24 January 2023
When we find the strength to reflect…
How did the book make me feel/think?
I needed this. We live in a topsy-turvy world. Depression and suffering are lurking on every corner. We often feel alone and as if we need to eat our emotions. We must remain strong, unflappable, and superhuman.
Are we doing life correctly?
Nobody knows.
I question my every step, breath, and decision.
Teardrops paint my shirt like bloodstains.
I hurt, I want the past to be just that, the past; it haunts me.
What if there was a place you could go to wash away your regrets and allow you to move forward with a fresh view and a bounce to your step?
Tales from the café by Toshikazu Kawaguchi (and the other books in this series) provide that escape. Only, it’s not an escape; it is a salve for the soul. Whether it is unrequited love or a decision you made that alters the course of life, Kawaguchi, with the utmost tenderness, delivers tears of joy as he helps us understand life is best lived and that the things that may haunt you the most are manageable.
When we find the strength to reflect, we might find warmth and understanding instead of the heavy burden of what if…
WRITTEN: 24 January 2023
How did the book make me feel/think?
I needed this. We live in a topsy-turvy world. Depression and suffering are lurking on every corner. We often feel alone and as if we need to eat our emotions. We must remain strong, unflappable, and superhuman.
Are we doing life correctly?
Nobody knows.
I question my every step, breath, and decision.
Teardrops paint my shirt like bloodstains.
I hurt, I want the past to be just that, the past; it haunts me.
What if there was a place you could go to wash away your regrets and allow you to move forward with a fresh view and a bounce to your step?
Tales from the café by Toshikazu Kawaguchi (and the other books in this series) provide that escape. Only, it’s not an escape; it is a salve for the soul. Whether it is unrequited love or a decision you made that alters the course of life, Kawaguchi, with the utmost tenderness, delivers tears of joy as he helps us understand life is best lived and that the things that may haunt you the most are manageable.
When we find the strength to reflect, we might find warmth and understanding instead of the heavy burden of what if…
WRITTEN: 24 January 2023
I am a white man. Whatever that is?
How did the book make me feel/think?
I am a white man. Whatever that is? I never chose my life.
At the very least, I'm self-aware enough to understand the previous words.
If there is a God, God doesn’t have a plan of superiority for me. I’d have to be delusional to believe a deity floating in the sky created division and hatred and our inability to see each other for what we are: human, flawed, and collectively better.
But no—hate stems from misinterpretations of spirituality. Those who believe they are ‘chosen’ are willfully ignorant in assuming they somehow deserve more, a better life.
Baldwin is a gay black man who wrote this plea, undressing the human spirit’s flaws. In the 60s. What has changed?
It saddens me that in today’s version of the world, not much has changed. Talking heads rail against identity politics, a term they invented to control others and then constantly do everything in their power to strip freedoms from those they disgustingly deem as less—when to really observe less—all they need to do is look in the bleeping mirror.
I’m a white man; when I listen to my kind (I do not have a kind), I often am saddened. I don’t enjoy the conversations often placed in front of me. When I speak up. I’m often shunned and told I take things too seriously. I’m told people are only joking. They’re not. We need to be better.
Individually, I try to do my part daily.
Humanity, collectively, I’m scared.
Isn’t race nothing more than a disease created by whiteness to define itself?
I’ll wait for your reply. Right here.
WRITTEN: 23 January 2023
How did the book make me feel/think?
I am a white man. Whatever that is? I never chose my life.
At the very least, I'm self-aware enough to understand the previous words.
If there is a God, God doesn’t have a plan of superiority for me. I’d have to be delusional to believe a deity floating in the sky created division and hatred and our inability to see each other for what we are: human, flawed, and collectively better.
But no—hate stems from misinterpretations of spirituality. Those who believe they are ‘chosen’ are willfully ignorant in assuming they somehow deserve more, a better life.
Baldwin is a gay black man who wrote this plea, undressing the human spirit’s flaws. In the 60s. What has changed?
It saddens me that in today’s version of the world, not much has changed. Talking heads rail against identity politics, a term they invented to control others and then constantly do everything in their power to strip freedoms from those they disgustingly deem as less—when to really observe less—all they need to do is look in the bleeping mirror.
I’m a white man; when I listen to my kind (I do not have a kind), I often am saddened. I don’t enjoy the conversations often placed in front of me. When I speak up. I’m often shunned and told I take things too seriously. I’m told people are only joking. They’re not. We need to be better.
Individually, I try to do my part daily.
Humanity, collectively, I’m scared.
Isn’t race nothing more than a disease created by whiteness to define itself?
I’ll wait for your reply. Right here.
WRITTEN: 23 January 2023
Eleanor Oliphant is not completely fine, but she’s okay…
How did the book make me feel/think?
I’m odd.
I don’t think so.
I fit in everywhere, but in reality, nowhere. Walking alone suits me. It scares me. It defines me.
I’m a man named Lindsay. Who grew up during the era of the Bionic Woman. Challenges appeared from nowhere.
Wit or fists?
I found wit. I think.
Who says that?
I just did.
Eleanor is a kind soul. She’s a misfit. A damaged upbringing. A theme of these times. Of all times. Her mother wasn’t okay, fit, or capable—she was damaged. Eleanor carried the weight of that burden. Like many of us, Eleanor’s life is laden with insecurities instilled by her upbringing. To survive, she cast herself as an outsider, perfecting the role with everything she did: eating, drinking, dreaming, or fantasizing about a life without crippling loneliness. Eleanor’s life is empty.
I connected with her. I spend so much time alone I can go for entire days without hearing my voice. When that happens, we must learn to hold our own hands.
But, regardless of who we are, we can all be swallowed in the silence of alone, of not being understood, of dreaming for more, but not being equipped with the tools to bring our dreams to fruition.
Eleanor Oliphant is not completely fine, but she’s okay, delightful… and as readers strip away the pages, maybe they will find a dash of kindness in their hearts as they replace judgement with trying to understand. Few of us walking, travelling down life’s roads on this glorious planet, are really who we appear to be(?)—because our backstories remain untold and often are left uncovered--simmering in a broth of crippling fear stewing in loneliness.
I hope Eleanor(s) of the world understands the riches they all give us. I’m better for having spent a day or two inside her world. I guarantee you will as well.
WRITTEN: 23 January 2023
How did the book make me feel/think?
I’m odd.
I don’t think so.
I fit in everywhere, but in reality, nowhere. Walking alone suits me. It scares me. It defines me.
I’m a man named Lindsay. Who grew up during the era of the Bionic Woman. Challenges appeared from nowhere.
Wit or fists?
I found wit. I think.
Who says that?
I just did.
Eleanor is a kind soul. She’s a misfit. A damaged upbringing. A theme of these times. Of all times. Her mother wasn’t okay, fit, or capable—she was damaged. Eleanor carried the weight of that burden. Like many of us, Eleanor’s life is laden with insecurities instilled by her upbringing. To survive, she cast herself as an outsider, perfecting the role with everything she did: eating, drinking, dreaming, or fantasizing about a life without crippling loneliness. Eleanor’s life is empty.
I connected with her. I spend so much time alone I can go for entire days without hearing my voice. When that happens, we must learn to hold our own hands.
But, regardless of who we are, we can all be swallowed in the silence of alone, of not being understood, of dreaming for more, but not being equipped with the tools to bring our dreams to fruition.
Eleanor Oliphant is not completely fine, but she’s okay, delightful… and as readers strip away the pages, maybe they will find a dash of kindness in their hearts as they replace judgement with trying to understand. Few of us walking, travelling down life’s roads on this glorious planet, are really who we appear to be(?)—because our backstories remain untold and often are left uncovered--simmering in a broth of crippling fear stewing in loneliness.
I hope Eleanor(s) of the world understands the riches they all give us. I’m better for having spent a day or two inside her world. I guarantee you will as well.
WRITTEN: 23 January 2023
We can never be sure of the pain hiding behind someone’s eyes.
How did the book make me feel/think?
holden: after & before, is an astonishingly beautiful read in the face of immeasurable suffering. The unfathomable loss of a child.
This book is beyond words. Everyone must read it to become kinder. In the first few chapters, I read what might be the most beautiful paragraph I've ever read. The paragraph ends in unbearable silence.
McGuire's phraseology overflows with unwavering love. While McGuire desperately cobbles her life together, her prose sings, bringing everything gloriously to life; the morning sun, a crow... tomorrow.
I read another page; I’m shaking, crying.
Roadmaps to unconditional; are vacant and nonexistent.
Everyone on this spinning rock needs to read this — McGuire's honesty in pain makes the world a better place.
Pain drips from a stranger's glossy eyes as I stroll down the street. I resist judgment. I don't know where he's been or where he's going.
As much as Holden's story is devastatingly heart-wrenching, if Tara hadn't found the unflinching courage to share, Holden's life would have become nothing more than another tragic story.
Holden is infinitely more. I'm glad I got to know him through Tara's never-ending love.
In holden: after & before, Holden comes to two doors; he makes his choice -- maybe the choice he was destined to make. We all think we can control what we don't understand. We suffer the unrelenting pain of what if…?
I feel for those cradled in Holden's loss. Holden's pain is gone. Not before he left us with the gift of a beautiful spirit. Letting us know life is complicated. Love never dies. Holden's unwavering energy, coupled with Tara's spectacular writing, helps Holden live on -- teaching valuable lessons along the way.
I'm different now; I see the world through a softer filter.
WRITTEN: 13 October 2022
How did the book make me feel/think?
holden: after & before, is an astonishingly beautiful read in the face of immeasurable suffering. The unfathomable loss of a child.
This book is beyond words. Everyone must read it to become kinder. In the first few chapters, I read what might be the most beautiful paragraph I've ever read. The paragraph ends in unbearable silence.
McGuire's phraseology overflows with unwavering love. While McGuire desperately cobbles her life together, her prose sings, bringing everything gloriously to life; the morning sun, a crow... tomorrow.
I read another page; I’m shaking, crying.
Roadmaps to unconditional; are vacant and nonexistent.
Everyone on this spinning rock needs to read this — McGuire's honesty in pain makes the world a better place.
Pain drips from a stranger's glossy eyes as I stroll down the street. I resist judgment. I don't know where he's been or where he's going.
As much as Holden's story is devastatingly heart-wrenching, if Tara hadn't found the unflinching courage to share, Holden's life would have become nothing more than another tragic story.
Holden is infinitely more. I'm glad I got to know him through Tara's never-ending love.
In holden: after & before, Holden comes to two doors; he makes his choice -- maybe the choice he was destined to make. We all think we can control what we don't understand. We suffer the unrelenting pain of what if…?
I feel for those cradled in Holden's loss. Holden's pain is gone. Not before he left us with the gift of a beautiful spirit. Letting us know life is complicated. Love never dies. Holden's unwavering energy, coupled with Tara's spectacular writing, helps Holden live on -- teaching valuable lessons along the way.
I'm different now; I see the world through a softer filter.
WRITTEN: 13 October 2022
24
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Never deviate from your passions…
How did the book make me feel/think?
Much like Ronny Chieng, I thought, great, another celebrity memoir. Oh, Joy.
You don’t have to read it.
My friend put it in my hands and said, read this next.
I loved Kim’s Convenience. After seeing the opening credits, I’m confident I could beat Simu at one-on-one basketball.
You’re 62; what are you talking about?
I challenge you, Simu.
You’ll lose.
Probably.
What struck me right from the get-go of this memoir is Simu is incredibly likeable. All celebrity memoirists need to read this to learn how to win over an audience. Simu will win you over.
This book came at a great time for me. I’m facing daunting uncertainties since my career ended at the start of Covid. I write. Write. Write. And pursue my passions. Friends in my demographic have been barking at me to ‘get a job.’ Did I say I’m 62?
Depression is lurking; not lurking, it is standing by the sofa.
Where are you going with these thoughts?
In We Were Dreamers, Simu not only lessens the cultural divide people face in an ever-evolving (maybe devolving) world. But with the utmost generosity, Simu blasts a powerful light on the necessity of never deviating from your passions if you are lucky enough to discover what they are.
Liu does this with gentleness and understanding, as he reminds us regardless of whether we are a celebrity, we all start close to the same place. Unless of course: you were unlucky to have been born into crippling entitlement. Liu wasn’t.
When you dream, there is no Plan B.
Thank you, Simu; at this stage of my life, you gave me the encouragement I desperately need—you are a true superhero.
Next time you’re in Vancouver, one-on-one basketball?
WRITTEN: 6 November 2022
How did the book make me feel/think?
Much like Ronny Chieng, I thought, great, another celebrity memoir. Oh, Joy.
You don’t have to read it.
My friend put it in my hands and said, read this next.
I loved Kim’s Convenience. After seeing the opening credits, I’m confident I could beat Simu at one-on-one basketball.
You’re 62; what are you talking about?
I challenge you, Simu.
You’ll lose.
Probably.
What struck me right from the get-go of this memoir is Simu is incredibly likeable. All celebrity memoirists need to read this to learn how to win over an audience. Simu will win you over.
This book came at a great time for me. I’m facing daunting uncertainties since my career ended at the start of Covid. I write. Write. Write. And pursue my passions. Friends in my demographic have been barking at me to ‘get a job.’ Did I say I’m 62?
Depression is lurking; not lurking, it is standing by the sofa.
Where are you going with these thoughts?
In We Were Dreamers, Simu not only lessens the cultural divide people face in an ever-evolving (maybe devolving) world. But with the utmost generosity, Simu blasts a powerful light on the necessity of never deviating from your passions if you are lucky enough to discover what they are.
Liu does this with gentleness and understanding, as he reminds us regardless of whether we are a celebrity, we all start close to the same place. Unless of course: you were unlucky to have been born into crippling entitlement. Liu wasn’t.
When you dream, there is no Plan B.
Thank you, Simu; at this stage of my life, you gave me the encouragement I desperately need—you are a true superhero.
Next time you’re in Vancouver, one-on-one basketball?
WRITTEN: 6 November 2022
Creative brilliance is rooted in pain...
How did the book make me feel/think?
Martha Wainwright and I got together in a pub to talk. We sat down and started sharing horror stories from our lives in search of finding stories of belonging and where love and comfort rest.
We got messed up along the way.
Stories I Might Regret Telling You reads like the scene I started painting above; Martha has lived a celebrity life.
As we shared another pint, the layers of her life started falling away: Insecurity, drugs, love found and lost, and a child’s longing for their parents to assume the role of caregiver instead of being swallowed by their own need to be seen. I learned this is an ongoing struggle for those in the spotlight.
How can you care for yourself when you need the world’s validation?
In unflinching honesty, Wainwright shares her vulnerability, letting us all know that just because you’re reaching for the stars doesn’t mean you are not immune to the perils many, if not all of us, face daily.
Stories I Might Regret Telling You you deftly remind us that regardless of life’s paths, we are all on the same road together.
Creative brilliance is rooted in pain; thanks, Martha, for taking the time to share yours.
WRITTEN: 6 November 2022
How did the book make me feel/think?
Martha Wainwright and I got together in a pub to talk. We sat down and started sharing horror stories from our lives in search of finding stories of belonging and where love and comfort rest.
We got messed up along the way.
Stories I Might Regret Telling You reads like the scene I started painting above; Martha has lived a celebrity life.
As we shared another pint, the layers of her life started falling away: Insecurity, drugs, love found and lost, and a child’s longing for their parents to assume the role of caregiver instead of being swallowed by their own need to be seen. I learned this is an ongoing struggle for those in the spotlight.
How can you care for yourself when you need the world’s validation?
In unflinching honesty, Wainwright shares her vulnerability, letting us all know that just because you’re reaching for the stars doesn’t mean you are not immune to the perils many, if not all of us, face daily.
Stories I Might Regret Telling You you deftly remind us that regardless of life’s paths, we are all on the same road together.
Creative brilliance is rooted in pain; thanks, Martha, for taking the time to share yours.
WRITTEN: 6 November 2022
Psychopathy and extreme wealth are one in the same.
How did the book make me feel/think?
What did I learn from Scoundrel?
It is a fascinating read. I never thought I would be into a historical murder story.
I dove in.
What a voyeuristic ride. The writing is captivating. Weinman is a fabulous storyteller. I hope she’s okay (after being immersed in this horrendous story).
Edgar Smith was a monster, and William F. Buckley was a monster as well, who walked lockstep with Smith.
I guess what I learned from Scoundrel is that there is a razor-thin line between psychopathy, genius and the utter manipulation of everything and everyone around you for personal gain.
Narcissism, sociopathy, and psychopathy are deadly bedfellows. Extreme wealth is a disease.
I learned those inflicted by extreme wealth care about only one thing: themselves.
I feel a sense of calm. Now, I understand the news better. We all scream about political figures saying insane things and still being loved. I get it now. The shackles attached to those needing validation, the wealthy + deranged mentally ill (1), do not care. We shriek: These people need to listen. They won’t.
Because after they’ve jumped on a cause, their hearing has been muted. The rest of us suffer the noise of not comprehending why those diseased are not as outraged as the rest.
That’s how Scoundrel made me feel/think.
You can’t change a debilitating illness.
Psychopathy and extreme wealth are the same.
1) I’m not making light of mental illness; these thoughts pertain specifically to monsters of the ilk of Smith + Buckley + those who often rise the political ranks.
WRITTEN: 12 October 2022
How did the book make me feel/think?
What did I learn from Scoundrel?
It is a fascinating read. I never thought I would be into a historical murder story.
I dove in.
What a voyeuristic ride. The writing is captivating. Weinman is a fabulous storyteller. I hope she’s okay (after being immersed in this horrendous story).
Edgar Smith was a monster, and William F. Buckley was a monster as well, who walked lockstep with Smith.
I guess what I learned from Scoundrel is that there is a razor-thin line between psychopathy, genius and the utter manipulation of everything and everyone around you for personal gain.
Narcissism, sociopathy, and psychopathy are deadly bedfellows. Extreme wealth is a disease.
I learned those inflicted by extreme wealth care about only one thing: themselves.
I feel a sense of calm. Now, I understand the news better. We all scream about political figures saying insane things and still being loved. I get it now. The shackles attached to those needing validation, the wealthy + deranged mentally ill (1), do not care. We shriek: These people need to listen. They won’t.
Because after they’ve jumped on a cause, their hearing has been muted. The rest of us suffer the noise of not comprehending why those diseased are not as outraged as the rest.
That’s how Scoundrel made me feel/think.
You can’t change a debilitating illness.
Psychopathy and extreme wealth are the same.
1) I’m not making light of mental illness; these thoughts pertain specifically to monsters of the ilk of Smith + Buckley + those who often rise the political ranks.
WRITTEN: 12 October 2022
Amy & Lan is a heart-wrenching read reminding us of all the beauty found in innocence.
How did the book make me feel/think?
I loved this book; therefore, I don’t want to impose my will on people with too many thoughts.
Amy & Lan are two kids. They’re soulmates. They grow up together on a farm their parents dragged them to — to be joined by a collection of outcasts. A move undertaken because life became too hectic, expensive, and unsustainable in a world spinning absurdly out of control.
The adults seek a better life — far outside their comfort zones. They are outsiders in this world. Amy & Lan joyfully amble through their lives, eyes wide open, experiencing much, and growing into who they will become. Their parents coddle and protect them from things they deem — “too adult” — for Amy & Lan to comprehend and not be scarred from; the circle of life for farm animals. The adults battle classism, racism and other isms plaguing societies today.
As much as parents impose their wills on children, they have a propensity to strip away a child’s innocence by muddying the waters of living with the weakness of thinking the grass is greener elsewhere — often destroying families with their selfishness.
While reading the last chapter, tears sprouted from my eyes, rolled over my cheeks, and floated gingerly to the floor below. If adults were only self-aware enough to understand, it might be best to learn from the innocence only found in a child’s heart — then maybe, they could hear the lessons about love and naivety our children teach daily — that only an adult would see as childish — instead of breaking people apart.
Amy & Lan is a heart-wrenching read reminding us of all the beauty found in innocence.
WRITTEN: 9 October 2022
How did the book make me feel/think?
I loved this book; therefore, I don’t want to impose my will on people with too many thoughts.
Amy & Lan are two kids. They’re soulmates. They grow up together on a farm their parents dragged them to — to be joined by a collection of outcasts. A move undertaken because life became too hectic, expensive, and unsustainable in a world spinning absurdly out of control.
The adults seek a better life — far outside their comfort zones. They are outsiders in this world. Amy & Lan joyfully amble through their lives, eyes wide open, experiencing much, and growing into who they will become. Their parents coddle and protect them from things they deem — “too adult” — for Amy & Lan to comprehend and not be scarred from; the circle of life for farm animals. The adults battle classism, racism and other isms plaguing societies today.
As much as parents impose their wills on children, they have a propensity to strip away a child’s innocence by muddying the waters of living with the weakness of thinking the grass is greener elsewhere — often destroying families with their selfishness.
While reading the last chapter, tears sprouted from my eyes, rolled over my cheeks, and floated gingerly to the floor below. If adults were only self-aware enough to understand, it might be best to learn from the innocence only found in a child’s heart — then maybe, they could hear the lessons about love and naivety our children teach daily — that only an adult would see as childish — instead of breaking people apart.
Amy & Lan is a heart-wrenching read reminding us of all the beauty found in innocence.
WRITTEN: 9 October 2022
Who you are; doesn’t ‘lie’ in the choices you’ve made, but…
How did the book make me feel/think?
I’m swimming in murky water. Five children, their absentee father, and their four mothers swim alongside me. I see a hook in the water. I swim toward it. On the hook is a bizarre premise. I bite.
I’m tugged from side to side.
I struggle to break free.
I’m glad I did not.
The children swim up to me. A page turns, a layer is added, and then another. The bait wasn’t the premise. Instead, it was the relationship between the children. They’re broken. Angry. Confused. Different. In denial. Scared. Another page turns. I’m in. The line tightens. More layers are added. The children and their mothers threaten to cut the cord. But the more they learn about themselves, the more they understand they are all products of the same dysfunction.
The children are mad at their father.
The mothers’ struggle with not being the only one.
The line loosens.
A moment comes where it might be too much to process—but just when everything is about to fall apart, a piece is uncovered that doesn’t let the father off the hook but provides an understanding that maybe he didn’t have a chance - to begin with.
In People Person, Candice Carty-Williams takes readers on a ride, bringing them to a place where we understand if you are a product of dysfunction and you are lucky, you might realize who you are; doesn’t ‘lie’ in the choices you’ve made → but stems from a collection of unknowns. If you are fortunate enough to collect enough pieces, then maybe, just maybe, who, or whatever you are most angry about, you can let off the hook, take a deep breath, and realize it was just what it was.
When I collected enough pieces of me, I discovered my sister was my mum.
WRITTEN: 7 October 2022
How did the book make me feel/think?
I’m swimming in murky water. Five children, their absentee father, and their four mothers swim alongside me. I see a hook in the water. I swim toward it. On the hook is a bizarre premise. I bite.
I’m tugged from side to side.
I struggle to break free.
I’m glad I did not.
The children swim up to me. A page turns, a layer is added, and then another. The bait wasn’t the premise. Instead, it was the relationship between the children. They’re broken. Angry. Confused. Different. In denial. Scared. Another page turns. I’m in. The line tightens. More layers are added. The children and their mothers threaten to cut the cord. But the more they learn about themselves, the more they understand they are all products of the same dysfunction.
The children are mad at their father.
The mothers’ struggle with not being the only one.
The line loosens.
A moment comes where it might be too much to process—but just when everything is about to fall apart, a piece is uncovered that doesn’t let the father off the hook but provides an understanding that maybe he didn’t have a chance - to begin with.
In People Person, Candice Carty-Williams takes readers on a ride, bringing them to a place where we understand if you are a product of dysfunction and you are lucky, you might realize who you are; doesn’t ‘lie’ in the choices you’ve made → but stems from a collection of unknowns. If you are fortunate enough to collect enough pieces, then maybe, just maybe, who, or whatever you are most angry about, you can let off the hook, take a deep breath, and realize it was just what it was.
When I collected enough pieces of me, I discovered my sister was my mum.
WRITTEN: 7 October 2022
Truth + Reconciliation is only the starting point.
How did the book make me feel/think?
The Education of Augie Merasty may be a small tome, but it packs a powerful punch that goes a long way in eradicating ignorance. Some people want to keep their eyes shut, living in denial. However, we’d do the entire world (in this case, Canada) a massive favour by diving into the pages of this important story.
Augie is the definition of heroic. I never knew the evil Indigenous people faced. Like many people, I hid behind the walls of the disgusting attitudes instilled in us all, by a racist society. Some people scream, “get over it” — I didn’t do this to you. But we were all complicit (even if it was through our ancestors), and our willing ignorance only exacerbates the pain and slows the path to an inclusive world.
Augie’s courage has made us all better. Educate yourself. You might not like what you discover, but you’ll likely be a better, kinder, and more empathetic person — after you’ve read the last word of this essential read that will linger with you, long after the cover has been closed.
Thanks to heroes like Augie, he has kindly offered us all a salve for our souls.
Powerful. Evocative. Essential. Courageous.
WRITTEN: 28 September 2022
How did the book make me feel/think?
The Education of Augie Merasty may be a small tome, but it packs a powerful punch that goes a long way in eradicating ignorance. Some people want to keep their eyes shut, living in denial. However, we’d do the entire world (in this case, Canada) a massive favour by diving into the pages of this important story.
Augie is the definition of heroic. I never knew the evil Indigenous people faced. Like many people, I hid behind the walls of the disgusting attitudes instilled in us all, by a racist society. Some people scream, “get over it” — I didn’t do this to you. But we were all complicit (even if it was through our ancestors), and our willing ignorance only exacerbates the pain and slows the path to an inclusive world.
Augie’s courage has made us all better. Educate yourself. You might not like what you discover, but you’ll likely be a better, kinder, and more empathetic person — after you’ve read the last word of this essential read that will linger with you, long after the cover has been closed.
Thanks to heroes like Augie, he has kindly offered us all a salve for our souls.
Powerful. Evocative. Essential. Courageous.
WRITTEN: 28 September 2022
Strout's prose oozes an abundance of love. A definite favourite.
How did the book make me feel/think?
Lucy by the Sea is an absolutely gorgeous read.
I felt tears welling on every page.
I now look at life through different lenses. Strout's writing is divine. Her words helped me understand the splendour in living different lives and listening. We are not all the same; we must strive to find kindness in our hearts. Many of us are in pain. The world is a confusing place.
Strout's prose oozes an abundance of love. Lucy by the Sea is a beautifully woven tale about what it means to be alive.
I absolutely loved this book—it etched a place in my heart, warming my soul!
WRITTEN: 19 September 2022
How did the book make me feel/think?
Lucy by the Sea is an absolutely gorgeous read.
I felt tears welling on every page.
I now look at life through different lenses. Strout's writing is divine. Her words helped me understand the splendour in living different lives and listening. We are not all the same; we must strive to find kindness in our hearts. Many of us are in pain. The world is a confusing place.
Strout's prose oozes an abundance of love. Lucy by the Sea is a beautifully woven tale about what it means to be alive.
I absolutely loved this book—it etched a place in my heart, warming my soul!
WRITTEN: 19 September 2022
The past pulses to life in this sublime coming-of-age story!
How did the book make me feel/think?
I live in Vancouver. I have walked, driven, across, under, and around the Georgia Viaduct thousands of times, ignorant of the vibrant black community that used to lay where the viaduct is now.
I was introduced to Hogan’s alley in the fantastic book, Becoming Vancouver (Daniel Francis). Even with the introduction, I remained blind to the thriving community erased by gentrification and the displacement of those who added matchless character to the city.
Systemic racism saw to that. The city’s leaders decided moving cars in and out of the city’s core was more important than protecting a beating, thriving heart. I’m appalled.
Thanks to Junie, when I walk under the viaduct now, in the now nondescript area once known as Hogan’s Alley, the area springs to life. I can hear cheerful souls rejoicing, jazz floating through the air. The fragrance of different tickles the senses.
Chelene Knight is masterful at bringing what once was to life and reminding us of what could have been if we had only evolved. Are we evolving, even today?
In this enchanting coming-of-age story, Knight explores what it is like to be a young black girl growing up in a harsh world where her mother does not relish the role because alcohol and unreachable dreams have muddied her mind. Her mother’s unquenchable thirst for the spotlight, coupled with neglecting her daughter’s needs—turns Junie into the matriarch by default as she tries to find her way in a racist world.
Knight arouses the enormity facing Junie (including sexuality), as she has to be strong, not only for her mother but also for her best friend, whose mother, the polar opposite of Junie’s, also doesn’t relish the role of motherhood.
I walk by where Hogan’s Alley used to be once more; it pulses to life. I see Junie walk on by, smiling.
WRITTEN: 15 September 2022
How did the book make me feel/think?
I live in Vancouver. I have walked, driven, across, under, and around the Georgia Viaduct thousands of times, ignorant of the vibrant black community that used to lay where the viaduct is now.
I was introduced to Hogan’s alley in the fantastic book, Becoming Vancouver (Daniel Francis). Even with the introduction, I remained blind to the thriving community erased by gentrification and the displacement of those who added matchless character to the city.
Systemic racism saw to that. The city’s leaders decided moving cars in and out of the city’s core was more important than protecting a beating, thriving heart. I’m appalled.
Thanks to Junie, when I walk under the viaduct now, in the now nondescript area once known as Hogan’s Alley, the area springs to life. I can hear cheerful souls rejoicing, jazz floating through the air. The fragrance of different tickles the senses.
Chelene Knight is masterful at bringing what once was to life and reminding us of what could have been if we had only evolved. Are we evolving, even today?
In this enchanting coming-of-age story, Knight explores what it is like to be a young black girl growing up in a harsh world where her mother does not relish the role because alcohol and unreachable dreams have muddied her mind. Her mother’s unquenchable thirst for the spotlight, coupled with neglecting her daughter’s needs—turns Junie into the matriarch by default as she tries to find her way in a racist world.
Knight arouses the enormity facing Junie (including sexuality), as she has to be strong, not only for her mother but also for her best friend, whose mother, the polar opposite of Junie’s, also doesn’t relish the role of motherhood.
I walk by where Hogan’s Alley used to be once more; it pulses to life. I see Junie walk on by, smiling.
WRITTEN: 15 September 2022
| |||
23
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Canada is a cultural mosaic, and despite its flaws, Canadians always seem to unite.
How did the book make me feel/think?
Back when I was attending university, if I had a book like Aaron Hughes’s 10 Days–That Shaped Modern Canada, life might have taken a different path.
At the very least, university would have been more interesting.
The world is at a crossroads; we are facing choices affecting who we are (globally and as Canadians). How do we want to live? And who do we want to be?
Hughes addresses these questions with glaring clarity in this fabulous read about the modern-day history of Canada. Every day mentioned is connected and helped cobble Canada into the vibrant mosaic we’ve become.
But it is fragile. Forces are trying to pull us apart; our history is littered with complications. Do we move forward together as proud Canadians, or do we trip into the abyss of divisiveness, allowing the evil voices on our shoulders to dismantle what has taken generations to create?
What Hughes helps us understand is as much as Canada is a cultural mosaic—he exposes our flaws; and how, like few nations on this planet, we’ve come together despite our differences—seemingly insurmountable--at times.
Because if we don’t collectively live as one and reckon with the warts of our journey and past, we could come to a place where we surrender our progress and wave our future goodbye.
Every Canadian must read 10 Days–That Shaped Modern Canada—if they want to gain an understanding of who we are.
Each of us could benefit from the inspiration Gord Downie of the Tragically Hip gifted us—a man who showed us what unconditionally loving who we are—means. (Chapter 9).
WRITTEN: 13 September 2022
How did the book make me feel/think?
Back when I was attending university, if I had a book like Aaron Hughes’s 10 Days–That Shaped Modern Canada, life might have taken a different path.
At the very least, university would have been more interesting.
The world is at a crossroads; we are facing choices affecting who we are (globally and as Canadians). How do we want to live? And who do we want to be?
Hughes addresses these questions with glaring clarity in this fabulous read about the modern-day history of Canada. Every day mentioned is connected and helped cobble Canada into the vibrant mosaic we’ve become.
But it is fragile. Forces are trying to pull us apart; our history is littered with complications. Do we move forward together as proud Canadians, or do we trip into the abyss of divisiveness, allowing the evil voices on our shoulders to dismantle what has taken generations to create?
What Hughes helps us understand is as much as Canada is a cultural mosaic—he exposes our flaws; and how, like few nations on this planet, we’ve come together despite our differences—seemingly insurmountable--at times.
Because if we don’t collectively live as one and reckon with the warts of our journey and past, we could come to a place where we surrender our progress and wave our future goodbye.
Every Canadian must read 10 Days–That Shaped Modern Canada—if they want to gain an understanding of who we are.
Each of us could benefit from the inspiration Gord Downie of the Tragically Hip gifted us—a man who showed us what unconditionally loving who we are—means. (Chapter 9).
WRITTEN: 13 September 2022
Are we all dying, shackled in routine, long before we fade away?
How did the book make me feel/think?
I sit down and read a few pages.
Fear races through my veins.
It’s 30 degrees Celsius out (86 Fahrenheit).
The sun is beating down like a tinsmith working his craft. Goose bumps are popping all over my body like dominos rolling in reverse.
I walk three more blocks.
I need to stop and read more.
I don’t want to—I can’t stop myself.
I walk another three blocks. My spine is tingling. I shiver.
I stop again.
I walk three more blocks. Stop. I plop down on a brick wall along the sidewalk. I’ve never sat here before.
I’m terrified. I want more. Am I living the life of Penny?
What is the point of tomorrow if you can’t remember today?
What’s worse, losing yourself and your memories or being kept alive to have the last ounces of productivity squeezed from your vanishing life?
Are we all dying, shackled in routine, long before we fade away?
We Spread, shakes the psyche to the core. It’s a non-put-downable ride, far more terrifying than any horror story imaginable. There is no wasted word; terror drips from every page—I walk three more blocks and realize I eat at the same time daily, and I go to sleep at the same time nightly. As much as the dread of facing the end is an inescapable reality; what scared me most in this sublime read is the realization, at least for me, that we need to live life to the fullest because when the end arrives, what’s the point of being well rested and fed?
Ian Reid subtly expounds on the vital importance of fully shaking life up, to live it; something I will do—once I stop shaking.
Death may be final, but at least, while we’re still here, we must protect our memories; for as long as we can.
WRITTEN: 4 September 2022
How did the book make me feel/think?
I sit down and read a few pages.
Fear races through my veins.
It’s 30 degrees Celsius out (86 Fahrenheit).
The sun is beating down like a tinsmith working his craft. Goose bumps are popping all over my body like dominos rolling in reverse.
I walk three more blocks.
I need to stop and read more.
I don’t want to—I can’t stop myself.
I walk another three blocks. My spine is tingling. I shiver.
I stop again.
I walk three more blocks. Stop. I plop down on a brick wall along the sidewalk. I’ve never sat here before.
I’m terrified. I want more. Am I living the life of Penny?
What is the point of tomorrow if you can’t remember today?
What’s worse, losing yourself and your memories or being kept alive to have the last ounces of productivity squeezed from your vanishing life?
Are we all dying, shackled in routine, long before we fade away?
We Spread, shakes the psyche to the core. It’s a non-put-downable ride, far more terrifying than any horror story imaginable. There is no wasted word; terror drips from every page—I walk three more blocks and realize I eat at the same time daily, and I go to sleep at the same time nightly. As much as the dread of facing the end is an inescapable reality; what scared me most in this sublime read is the realization, at least for me, that we need to live life to the fullest because when the end arrives, what’s the point of being well rested and fed?
Ian Reid subtly expounds on the vital importance of fully shaking life up, to live it; something I will do—once I stop shaking.
Death may be final, but at least, while we’re still here, we must protect our memories; for as long as we can.
WRITTEN: 4 September 2022
Sometimes, saving yourself first is the only way to become a superhero.
How did the book make me feel/think?
A massive INTERNATIONAL BESTSELLER takes the literary world by storm.
The Animals by Cary Fagan carries a powerful, nuanced punch.
I could barely feel it; a page flips, and I find myself inside the book.
Dorn is dull. The town he lives in is dull. Competitiveness fuels every village in the world, in order to survive.
Tourism is the answer. Can tourism ever be the answer? Or is tourism not the means to devastation and the end of everything?
Dorn simply wants to live. He wants love, but he is far too awkward to bring desires to fruition. He’s a simple man. Characters are injected into the plotline. Mixing them all together, the characters become each of us.
Another punch.
I’m feeling it now.
I’m deep inside the book.
I’m absolutely; what’s a word more than absolutely?—loving it! An all-time favourite.
Dorn’s brother is a selfish jerk, but is he?
A wolf kills a man, but does it?
Stay away from the mink.
Sometimes, saving yourself first is the only way to become a superhero.
And if and when you do, maybe love will catch your fall.
The Animals deftly will draw you in, and by the end, you will be absolutely ecstatic it did as it lingers with you long after you’ve devoured the last word.
If you only read a small stack of books this year, The Animals should undoubtedly rise to the top.
WRITTEN: 22 August 2022
How did the book make me feel/think?
A massive INTERNATIONAL BESTSELLER takes the literary world by storm.
The Animals by Cary Fagan carries a powerful, nuanced punch.
I could barely feel it; a page flips, and I find myself inside the book.
Dorn is dull. The town he lives in is dull. Competitiveness fuels every village in the world, in order to survive.
Tourism is the answer. Can tourism ever be the answer? Or is tourism not the means to devastation and the end of everything?
Dorn simply wants to live. He wants love, but he is far too awkward to bring desires to fruition. He’s a simple man. Characters are injected into the plotline. Mixing them all together, the characters become each of us.
Another punch.
I’m feeling it now.
I’m deep inside the book.
I’m absolutely; what’s a word more than absolutely?—loving it! An all-time favourite.
Dorn’s brother is a selfish jerk, but is he?
A wolf kills a man, but does it?
Stay away from the mink.
Sometimes, saving yourself first is the only way to become a superhero.
And if and when you do, maybe love will catch your fall.
The Animals deftly will draw you in, and by the end, you will be absolutely ecstatic it did as it lingers with you long after you’ve devoured the last word.
If you only read a small stack of books this year, The Animals should undoubtedly rise to the top.
WRITTEN: 22 August 2022
| |||
|
Charlie Kaufman
|
Sidik Fofana
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
A mouth-watering delicious mess…
How did the book make me feel/think?
A mouth-watering delicious mess that had me giggling on every page.
Pick a better word.
Guffawing. No. Shrieking.
It’s a book, not a cookbook: Delicious mess makes no sense.
But it does. I ate it. Up. Up. Yum. My trucks on fire. Where am I? In a cave. Okay. I kept eating. First raw. Sushi? No. Then, with mustard. Then, sriracha. Full of fibre?
What are you even saying?
I’m strong. I’m an ant. Pound for pound stronger than →
Anything?
Sure.
The world is crumbling around us. Greed is out of control. Slammy’s Burgers. Trunks.
I’m done.
This book (a favourite), what’s another word for trunking? Great!
What are you even saying?
I get it. I loved it. Kaufman was writing just for me.
Go on.
Yes.
WRITTEN: 14 July 2022
How did the book make me feel/think?
A mouth-watering delicious mess that had me giggling on every page.
Pick a better word.
Guffawing. No. Shrieking.
It’s a book, not a cookbook: Delicious mess makes no sense.
But it does. I ate it. Up. Up. Yum. My trucks on fire. Where am I? In a cave. Okay. I kept eating. First raw. Sushi? No. Then, with mustard. Then, sriracha. Full of fibre?
What are you even saying?
I’m strong. I’m an ant. Pound for pound stronger than →
Anything?
Sure.
The world is crumbling around us. Greed is out of control. Slammy’s Burgers. Trunks.
I’m done.
This book (a favourite), what’s another word for trunking? Great!
What are you even saying?
I get it. I loved it. Kaufman was writing just for me.
Go on.
Yes.
WRITTEN: 14 July 2022
Blue Portugal is a poetically lyrical read that will surprise readers with its undeniable depth.
How did the book make me feel/think?
Soon, I might find out who my father is for the third time in my life.
The first time, I watched him take his last breath, the day after I turned 25 (1985).
Eighteen years later (2003), I accidentally discovered he wasn’t my birth father, which spiralled me into a search for my identity. I found my birth father. Met him (2006). He welcomed me into his family with open arms. Two weeks passed, and I had to inform him he wasn’t my father. My mother had lied on my birth registration.
Recently, after discovering I’m 45% Norwegian, a first cousin popped up in my DNA string—her uncle might be my birth father.
How does this relate to Blue Portugal?
Well, after the first two fathers, not being my birth father, I thought I’d never care, and as I age, why does it even matter, I thought?
That’s where Blue Portugal comes in.
First off, it is chock full of poetic lyricism and, for me, at least, highlights the importance of retracing our roots. As Kishkan ages; she thirsts for an understanding of who she is and why (?) and a longing for the comfort only found in the threads of life which make us whole.
Second, in her search for understanding, Kishkan sheds a powerful light on how, as much as the world improves daily, humanity is on a slippery slope, slicked by the limited minds of those who desperately think they need to hold on to the advantages of entitlement.
One hundred years ago, corporate greed brought over immigrants to do back-breaking work to build nations—only to deny these working slaves the rights they (the entitled) fought-tooth-and-nail to keep for themselves. When war broke out, Kishkan’s ancestors were deemed to be the enemies of the country, denied home ownership, and faced racism because the entitled railed against Immigrant Workers. The same workers’ corporations exploited for profit. Does this ring familiar today?
Blue Portugal is a poetically lyrical read that will surprise readers with its undeniable depth.
WRITTEN: 28 June 2022
How did the book make me feel/think?
Soon, I might find out who my father is for the third time in my life.
The first time, I watched him take his last breath, the day after I turned 25 (1985).
Eighteen years later (2003), I accidentally discovered he wasn’t my birth father, which spiralled me into a search for my identity. I found my birth father. Met him (2006). He welcomed me into his family with open arms. Two weeks passed, and I had to inform him he wasn’t my father. My mother had lied on my birth registration.
Recently, after discovering I’m 45% Norwegian, a first cousin popped up in my DNA string—her uncle might be my birth father.
How does this relate to Blue Portugal?
Well, after the first two fathers, not being my birth father, I thought I’d never care, and as I age, why does it even matter, I thought?
That’s where Blue Portugal comes in.
First off, it is chock full of poetic lyricism and, for me, at least, highlights the importance of retracing our roots. As Kishkan ages; she thirsts for an understanding of who she is and why (?) and a longing for the comfort only found in the threads of life which make us whole.
Second, in her search for understanding, Kishkan sheds a powerful light on how, as much as the world improves daily, humanity is on a slippery slope, slicked by the limited minds of those who desperately think they need to hold on to the advantages of entitlement.
One hundred years ago, corporate greed brought over immigrants to do back-breaking work to build nations—only to deny these working slaves the rights they (the entitled) fought-tooth-and-nail to keep for themselves. When war broke out, Kishkan’s ancestors were deemed to be the enemies of the country, denied home ownership, and faced racism because the entitled railed against Immigrant Workers. The same workers’ corporations exploited for profit. Does this ring familiar today?
Blue Portugal is a poetically lyrical read that will surprise readers with its undeniable depth.
WRITTEN: 28 June 2022
| |||
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Boy |in the| Blue Hammock is worthy of classic status.
How did the book make me feel/think?
The classic book The Road (Cormac McCarthy) is one of my favourite books. A boy and father navigate a dystopian landscape. Survival is the only goal.
Switch out the father for Tao (Dog) →, and Groth takes us on a heart-wrenching ride through a fracturing world. In this world, a failed service dog and an autistic teenager face a gauntlet of division and hatred.
Slide over The Road; a new book is nudging past you on my favourite list. Groth’s writing is extraordinary, heart-eviscerating, and gripping. Tao Dog + Boy (Kasper) fight for survival after Tao (Dog) discovers that Man, Woman, and Girl, have been gruesomely murdered. Kasper is the only human family survivor, hiding in the security of his blue hammock when Tao finds him.
Boy |in the| Blue Hammock is worthy of classic status; every page yanked at my emotions → my tears blending with the chills racing through my veins.
We are all judged. The entitled and privileged, walking amongst us, label us as they tread in the shallow end of life. Hindered by denial. All to make them feel more by tagging others as less. The judgement is flawed. Groth blasts bright lights on the flaws. Tao and Kasper share the beauty of vulnerability, compassion, and empathy. Along the way through their struggles, they share unlimited powers unconditionally.
Backing up to the entitled, in the grand scheme of things, they are lacking because many cannot understand equal is not something to strive for. If they only opened their hearts, they could learn valuable lessons about being human from Boy and Dog.
I was born in a place where women deemed unfit by society were sent to be fixed. If their children survived, they were sold or adopted out, never to be spoken of again. I have carried the weight of the unwanted label, and the darkness of stigma attached to it throughout life. I am not comparing my journey to an autistic child. But I understand vulnerability and the piercing eyes of those often looking down on me.
A friend of mine believes homeless people are lazy. My heart cringes. Life isn’t always easy, especially if people hold you down.
I’m lucky. Why?
Somehow, I avoided bitterness, finding compassion, empathy, and an understanding that each person is capable of unconditional love if only given a chance. And despite being deemed expendable, I’m still here.
Thanks, Boy, thanks, Dog, you make the world a better place.
WRITTEN: 23 April 2022
How did the book make me feel/think?
The classic book The Road (Cormac McCarthy) is one of my favourite books. A boy and father navigate a dystopian landscape. Survival is the only goal.
Switch out the father for Tao (Dog) →, and Groth takes us on a heart-wrenching ride through a fracturing world. In this world, a failed service dog and an autistic teenager face a gauntlet of division and hatred.
Slide over The Road; a new book is nudging past you on my favourite list. Groth’s writing is extraordinary, heart-eviscerating, and gripping. Tao Dog + Boy (Kasper) fight for survival after Tao (Dog) discovers that Man, Woman, and Girl, have been gruesomely murdered. Kasper is the only human family survivor, hiding in the security of his blue hammock when Tao finds him.
Boy |in the| Blue Hammock is worthy of classic status; every page yanked at my emotions → my tears blending with the chills racing through my veins.
We are all judged. The entitled and privileged, walking amongst us, label us as they tread in the shallow end of life. Hindered by denial. All to make them feel more by tagging others as less. The judgement is flawed. Groth blasts bright lights on the flaws. Tao and Kasper share the beauty of vulnerability, compassion, and empathy. Along the way through their struggles, they share unlimited powers unconditionally.
Backing up to the entitled, in the grand scheme of things, they are lacking because many cannot understand equal is not something to strive for. If they only opened their hearts, they could learn valuable lessons about being human from Boy and Dog.
I was born in a place where women deemed unfit by society were sent to be fixed. If their children survived, they were sold or adopted out, never to be spoken of again. I have carried the weight of the unwanted label, and the darkness of stigma attached to it throughout life. I am not comparing my journey to an autistic child. But I understand vulnerability and the piercing eyes of those often looking down on me.
A friend of mine believes homeless people are lazy. My heart cringes. Life isn’t always easy, especially if people hold you down.
I’m lucky. Why?
Somehow, I avoided bitterness, finding compassion, empathy, and an understanding that each person is capable of unconditional love if only given a chance. And despite being deemed expendable, I’m still here.
Thanks, Boy, thanks, Dog, you make the world a better place.
WRITTEN: 23 April 2022
This Might be the Best Read of the Year!
How did the book make me feel/think?
I crack the book open.
Page 1: A smile breaks on my face.
It won’t leave me. I haven’t felt this joyful in a long time.
Peter Simon is a mess, beyond the messiest of messes. He wants to be a hero, → thinking he’d be more than worthy if the right crisis moment presented.
But in reality, his mind is rioting in disarray. Peter wants to be the star in his life story as his stream-of-consciousness flows, no, blasts through his mind in tsunami after tsunami of what he really is → milquetoast to the nth degree. Plus 1.
We’re all conflicted.
On the one hand, we want to get off the life sidelines and make a difference.
On the other, we realize we’re not the main character in our own lives, but instead, we have bit parts.
Loners constantly update their Social Media + read long-form articles as they desperately work at nothing but blending in. Gentrification attacks us all, hyperbolic on steroids. Unfortunately, there is no place to hide.
Our minds race.
Why am I laughing at a breaking mind? I’m lonely. Every page I read is about someone I know, or about me, my dreams, hopes, fears, and wondering who wants to sleep with me?
Is city life about hiding?
This might be the best read of the year.
Page 253: I’m still smiling.
I close the book, I’m spent, in a good way!
We all want to be heroes → but why bother?
Tomorrow brings a new day.
WRITTEN: 19 April 2022
How did the book make me feel/think?
I crack the book open.
Page 1: A smile breaks on my face.
It won’t leave me. I haven’t felt this joyful in a long time.
Peter Simon is a mess, beyond the messiest of messes. He wants to be a hero, → thinking he’d be more than worthy if the right crisis moment presented.
But in reality, his mind is rioting in disarray. Peter wants to be the star in his life story as his stream-of-consciousness flows, no, blasts through his mind in tsunami after tsunami of what he really is → milquetoast to the nth degree. Plus 1.
We’re all conflicted.
On the one hand, we want to get off the life sidelines and make a difference.
On the other, we realize we’re not the main character in our own lives, but instead, we have bit parts.
Loners constantly update their Social Media + read long-form articles as they desperately work at nothing but blending in. Gentrification attacks us all, hyperbolic on steroids. Unfortunately, there is no place to hide.
Our minds race.
Why am I laughing at a breaking mind? I’m lonely. Every page I read is about someone I know, or about me, my dreams, hopes, fears, and wondering who wants to sleep with me?
Is city life about hiding?
This might be the best read of the year.
Page 253: I’m still smiling.
I close the book, I’m spent, in a good way!
We all want to be heroes → but why bother?
Tomorrow brings a new day.
WRITTEN: 19 April 2022
| 21._book_thoughts_-_batch_21.pdf |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Humans are like vandals being asked to fix our vandalism.
How did the book make me feel/think?
Girl in Ice reads like a world-renowned DJ dropping beats, layering their set, inserting elements. Love. Lose. Fear. Sorrow. Deception. Ego. With the bass line thumping, you guess what’s coming next. And with your heart about to burst out of your chest, you’re taken on an exhilarating free fall. Gasping for air as the layers are uncovered. What you may have thought was coming arcs in a different direction. You are left spent, satisfied, shaking, and wanting another beat at the end of this ride. A ride that is exhilarating + terrifying.
The most horrifying layer in this immensely readable ride is a plastic toy troll found in the belly of a walrus in the Arctic.
I draw a bath; I look around my bathroom. Almost everything is plastic. Noise for decades has bombarded and conditioned us, humans, telling us what to do, how to live, what to buy. We’re excellent students. Mostly, we’ve done what we’re told.
A giant finger is being pointed at us, telling us we are destroying the earth. We must get our egos in check and listen to the new message. But the thing is, we humans are like vandals being asked to fix our vandalism. It’s overwhelming. We need decades of new conditioning for it to sink in.
How can we fix earth when we debate plastic straws and bags when a plastic troll is found in the belly of a walrus in the Artic?
Maybe it is too late for us to say sorry?
WRITTEN: 25 March 2022
How did the book make me feel/think?
Girl in Ice reads like a world-renowned DJ dropping beats, layering their set, inserting elements. Love. Lose. Fear. Sorrow. Deception. Ego. With the bass line thumping, you guess what’s coming next. And with your heart about to burst out of your chest, you’re taken on an exhilarating free fall. Gasping for air as the layers are uncovered. What you may have thought was coming arcs in a different direction. You are left spent, satisfied, shaking, and wanting another beat at the end of this ride. A ride that is exhilarating + terrifying.
The most horrifying layer in this immensely readable ride is a plastic toy troll found in the belly of a walrus in the Arctic.
I draw a bath; I look around my bathroom. Almost everything is plastic. Noise for decades has bombarded and conditioned us, humans, telling us what to do, how to live, what to buy. We’re excellent students. Mostly, we’ve done what we’re told.
A giant finger is being pointed at us, telling us we are destroying the earth. We must get our egos in check and listen to the new message. But the thing is, we humans are like vandals being asked to fix our vandalism. It’s overwhelming. We need decades of new conditioning for it to sink in.
How can we fix earth when we debate plastic straws and bags when a plastic troll is found in the belly of a walrus in the Artic?
Maybe it is too late for us to say sorry?
WRITTEN: 25 March 2022
| |||
|
|
|
But the funny thing, The Funny Thing about Norman, took me on a ride through the definition of unconditional. A master lesson—narrated through the lens of a young boy who understands better than most what matters, and a mother doing the best she can, who oozes love as her wonderful boy teaches all of us what it means to be alive.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Beauty + laughter harvested from the depths of vulnerability + pain.
How did the book make me feel/think?
Magnificent. Superb. Splendid. Warm. Grateful.
Lauren grew up in a cult. She escaped the cult to join the cult of the Military only to be discarded into the cult of America?
Is America a cult?
Probably. If you’re paying attention.
I live in Canada. Are we cultish?
Maybe. But at least, we’ll say sorry for it.
Leaving isn’t the Hardest Thing sprung to the top of my most loved books list.
Lauren is spectacularly vulnerable. Courageous really. She has endured much. Survived. Shared depression. Taught us how to keep battling. Back to the courageous, Lauren is fearless in her calling out the injustices thrust upon the margins of society by institutions + greed. She has this incredible capacity to love despite the boundless amount of WTF she has faced with an unfathomable ability to talk about her hardships in such a way her kindness toward those struggling, many less than her, many who haven’t had the same luxury of being white. White talking about anyone else is a challenge. Lauren is a master.
It is a unique gift she’s been given. Compassion. Empathy. Pain. And in the end, regardless of whatever cards thrown her way → as she navigates her way through life and depression → Lauren shares a noble trait → a sardonic wit layered in nuance to where I laughed so hard at a brilliance only found in pain, thinking maybe she wrote certain lines: Just for me!
“… the worst bleeping song in the Family, was called “My Family. My Family.” It’s a love song about the Family.”--AND--“But I’m not good with vodka. And I’m really not great with coke. Drugs affect me.”
I laughed and laughed and laughed.
Thank you, Lauren, for sharing beauty only found in vulnerability + pain. Your words have made the world a wee bit kinder!
Near the end of the book, I felt like I was being punched in the gut. I was born in a place where unwanted children were born, only to be discarded and labelled as shameful. I guess I was part of a cult → another dark secret condoned by religion, not yet revealed because Catholicism is reeling from the Residential School crisis (there is no word, crisis is not enough). Religion is not prepared to deal with more injustices, yet.
I survived. Sort of. I write.
WRITTEN: 21 February 2022
How did the book make me feel/think?
Magnificent. Superb. Splendid. Warm. Grateful.
Lauren grew up in a cult. She escaped the cult to join the cult of the Military only to be discarded into the cult of America?
Is America a cult?
Probably. If you’re paying attention.
I live in Canada. Are we cultish?
Maybe. But at least, we’ll say sorry for it.
Leaving isn’t the Hardest Thing sprung to the top of my most loved books list.
Lauren is spectacularly vulnerable. Courageous really. She has endured much. Survived. Shared depression. Taught us how to keep battling. Back to the courageous, Lauren is fearless in her calling out the injustices thrust upon the margins of society by institutions + greed. She has this incredible capacity to love despite the boundless amount of WTF she has faced with an unfathomable ability to talk about her hardships in such a way her kindness toward those struggling, many less than her, many who haven’t had the same luxury of being white. White talking about anyone else is a challenge. Lauren is a master.
It is a unique gift she’s been given. Compassion. Empathy. Pain. And in the end, regardless of whatever cards thrown her way → as she navigates her way through life and depression → Lauren shares a noble trait → a sardonic wit layered in nuance to where I laughed so hard at a brilliance only found in pain, thinking maybe she wrote certain lines: Just for me!
“… the worst bleeping song in the Family, was called “My Family. My Family.” It’s a love song about the Family.”--AND--“But I’m not good with vodka. And I’m really not great with coke. Drugs affect me.”
I laughed and laughed and laughed.
Thank you, Lauren, for sharing beauty only found in vulnerability + pain. Your words have made the world a wee bit kinder!
Near the end of the book, I felt like I was being punched in the gut. I was born in a place where unwanted children were born, only to be discarded and labelled as shameful. I guess I was part of a cult → another dark secret condoned by religion, not yet revealed because Catholicism is reeling from the Residential School crisis (there is no word, crisis is not enough). Religion is not prepared to deal with more injustices, yet.
I survived. Sort of. I write.
WRITTEN: 21 February 2022
| |||
