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asmanybooks · 7 years

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3. All The Bright Places

It’s been awhile since I’ve written about a book. I could sit here and explain that or I could just get on with the post. I’ll do a bit of both. It’s hard to write when you’re having trouble reading. You know that of all people for me not being able to get into reading is a real problem. (that was a poorly structured sentence but read it aloud and it comes out the way I would say it) In short, sometimes I get down in ways I don’t understand. And the books in my hands become something I can feel myself starting to resent. It feels like turning on family when that happens to me, so I simply stop reading. And I sleep a lot, and I stay in my room. Or I turn overly social and try to focus on anything but what might be bothering me. It always fades back, melts away so that I feel myself again. Then I pick up my book or my pen, and I get back to reading or writing. But when it hits, it hits. I have to let it pass. So I’ll disappear from time to time, and I won’t post for weeks sometimes. But I’ll come back, always. I wouldn’t leave without saying something. That I can promise confidently.

This is a book I’ve read before. I’ve read it several times, and the highlighter and dog-eared pages of my copy show how much thought I’ve put into this book. I know a book is good when I come back to it again and and again, whether that means the book is good overall or just good for me. This book is both. It’s well-written, tells an important story that I firmly believe helps call attention to serious issues, and has characters you both identify with and wish to interact with. And it’s good for me as well. By this I mean this story speaks to me on multiple levels, and teaches me something more every time I read it. I see myself in both characters, which is a good thing. Characters are meant to be relatable. I see myself in their behavior and their thoughts. I see other people I know within the story as well, which helps me understand people a bit more. The writing style conveys a tremendous amount of voice, vital in helping me bring out my own voice as I write. The story itself bends and breaks my heart. It mends my heart in parts as well, gives me hope for a great and/or terrible future. The real world shows itself in glimpses within the pages of this book, and it leaves me wanting more every time.

It’s five AM so this post is going to be all over the place, but aren’t they all kind of all over the place? Anyway, let’s talk more about the content of the book, shall we?

The death of Eleanor is a piece of the story that some don’t connect with very deeply, but when I read this book I always reflect on that first. My older sister means so much to me I have extreme difficulty putting it into words. If I lost her, my world would likely stop spinning as well. And I’m not sure how I would get it spinning again. I want to believe I would think of this story, and all the others I’ve read, and somehow pull myself back into the waking world. But my sister, like Eleanor to Violet, was such a major factor in forming who I am today. Books and writing might lose meaning without her. It would take so long to get that meaning back, or form a new meaning. Violet had a hard time adjusting to a world without her sister, but with the help of a friend and a project to put her thoughts and energy into, she managed to pull it together. I think about this a lot. I believe strongly in Projects. There is power in creation, in putting time and passion into something outside of yourself. It’s therapy, or as some would put it therapeutic. Projects are therapy in my mind, and this book is a bit of the reason I think that way.

Violet is a strong character and I see myself in her, but I see myself more in Finch. The stop and go, the rushing thoughts and a need to do do do something. However, I understand the differences between myself and Finch as well. we are both birds, but we are not the same when it gets to the core of the character. Finch was very unwell. This cuts me deeply, because I know that I have this thing about wanting to save people. I believe in bright places, and I want so deeply to turn back the pages and give Finch so many more, and I want him to stay in those bright places until someone sees, understands, and helps him. Real help, the kind that hurts and is so so hard. The kind that terrifies you and those around you. The kind that changes and saves lives. Finch was unwell, but he was not unreal. His character was very realistic and you got to know him even as he and his troubled mental status cracked apart. You fell in love with the good and maybe even the bad. You feel it when his dad hits him, you feel it when he kisses Violet, you feel it when he remembers the cardinal. Maybe because he felt so much he gave some of it to you even across the distance between paper and reality. A strange concept, but some books feel like they might have that power.

Like Finch I often rearrange my room. I dress in phases, acting differently depending on mood. I wish people were kinder to each other and wasted less time on the things that might not matter very much. I like to think I live as if I had only two days, but I know that I do not. I have no idea how much time I have but I refuse to believe in just two days. Two days is just too short. Two days is a thought which makes me feel sad rather than brave or Awake. I want more than two days. So did Finch, but in his shrinking world two days was all he could hold onto, all he could conceivably grasp as he fell into the Asleep.

However, I am not the kind of Unwell that dragged Finch down. Finch was truly sick, and not the kind you can easily see. I see possible Bipolar depression, I see possible anxiety, I see possible depersonalisation disorders, I see a boy who was dangerously sick and needed a doctor. Not Advil and a cold shower, but an evaluation and therapy and information. I see opportunities for someone older and more qualified to have stepped in and assessed the situation. I see missed chances, because the boy was Bold and the others were, if not unwilling then most definitely unsure. But listen, if it were a matter of improving and/or saving a life, wouldn’t it be better to take those chances? I would rather misread a situation and cause irritation from my concerns than feel the guilt of not reaching out to someone who maybe just maybe would have reached back.

This book is a great example for showing why it’s so important to pay attention to the people around you. If you see erratic and unsafe behavior, ask questions. If you see sadness so deep it’s past the point of being excused as typical, ask questions. If you can’t get through to someone, reach out and tell someone who might be able to. If the parents don’t listen, go around them. If the teachers don’t listen, go around them. There is someone out there who will listen and care. There are counselors and Good teachers and Good parents. There are principals who might actually be princi-pal-s. There are doctors and police officers and trusted mentors and people on the beautiful and vast internet. There are authors with twitter accounts who do reply. There are youtubers who read every comment. There are classmates whom you’ve never spoken with that would listen and try to understand and help you reach out if you maybe weren’t strong enough to do so on your own. There are books you can read that will help you. So many books. As many books as there are reasons to stay alive and awake and reaching out, even more books and reasons than you could possibly fathom.

I got carried away but I think more people should get carried away and not apologise for it, so I am in no way sorry.

This might be my longest post so far, but I don’t care. You can read it or read parts of it or not read it at all. I do this as much for me as I do it for my sister as I do it for you. This is also therapy.

I want to go on about wandering but in this case I think maybe brevity could be on my side. In short, go out for a Wander. Don’t overthink it. Just go. See. Do. Take away and Leave behind. Maybe write about it. Maybe vlog about it. Maybe just talk about it to a friend over the phone. Maybe keep it to yourself and have that always. Just go, Wander. It’s a massive and incredible world and I don’t want you to miss it.

I also, like Finch, have ‘this thing about water’. Our things are different, but they both exist. I can’t explain it to you, not really. Maybe Finch couldn’t really have explained his thing about water either. Maybe he could have. All I can say is water means something to me. Something more than hydration and erosion and the sound of the ocean. Something I don’t understand, but feel inside. If you have a ‘thing’ like that, like me or like Finch, maybe we could talk about it. It boggles me a bit. I love and hate water. I fear and trust it. I condemn and praise it. I think about it regularly, which might be odd. Or maybe not. Let me know.

This was supposed to be about a book, not turn into a book, so maybe I should call this the end. I might come back to this book as well. I have so much to say and this is just the tip of the iceberg. I would actually really enjoy discussing this book, so if anyone would like to talk with me feel free to start up the conversation. This book means a lot of somethings. I want to share and discuss and advocate. This a platform where such things are possible.

This is a huge amount of text to add but I can’t help it, here’s a shit ton of helplines you can call should you need it. Sorry to be a bit of a PSA here, but it’ll help me sleep at night.

Adolescent Suicide Hotline 800-621-4000

Adolescent Crisis Intervention & Counseling Nineline 1-800-999-9999

AIDS National Hotline 1-800-342-2437

CHADD-Children & Adults with Attention Deficit/Hyperactivity Disorder 1-800-233-4050

Child Abuse Hotline 800-4-A-CHILD

Cocaine Help Line 1-800-COCAINE (1-800-262-2463)

Domestic Violence Hotline 800-799-7233

Domestic Violence Hotline/Child Abuse 1-800-4-A-CHILD (800 422 4453)

Drug & Alcohol Treatment Hotline 800-662-HELP

Ecstasy Addiction 1-800-468-6933

Eating Disorders Center 1-888-236-1188

Family Violence Prevention Center 1-800-313-1310

Gay & Lesbian National Hotline 1-888-THE-GLNH (1-888-843-4564)

Gay & Lesbian Trevor HelpLine Suicide Prevention 1-800-850-8078

Healing Woman Foundation (Abuse) 1-800-477-4111

Help Finding a Therapist 1-800-THERAPIST (1-800-843-7274)

Incest Awareness Foundation 1-888 -547-3222

Learning Disabilities - (National Center For) 1-888-575-7373

Missing & Exploited Children Hotline 1-800-843-5678

National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI) 1-800-950-NAMI (6264)

Panic Disorder Information Hotline 800- 64-PANIC

Post Abortion Trauma 1-800-593-2273

Project Inform HIV/AIDS Treatment Hotline 800-822-7422

Rape (People Against Rape) 1-800-877-7252

Rape, Abuse, Incest, National Network (RAINN) 1-800-656-HOPE (1-800-656-4673)

Runaway Hotline 800-621-4000

Self-Injury (Information only) (NOT a crisis line. Info and referrals only) 1-800-DONT CUT (1-800-366-8288)

Sexual Assault Hotline 1-800-656-4673

Sexual Abuse - Stop It Now! 1-888-PREVENT

STD Hotline 1-800-227-8922

Suicide Prevention Lifeline 1-800-273-TALK

Suicide & Crisis Hotline 1-800-999-9999

Suicide Prevention - The Trevor HelpLine (Specializing in gay and lesbian youth suicide prevention). 1-800-850-8078

IMAlive-online crisis chat

Teen Helpline 1-800-400-0900

Victim Center 1-800-FYI-CALL (1-800-394-2255)

Youth Crisis Hotline 800-HIT-HOME

#jennifer niven #all the bright places #mental health #writing #reading #books #journal #asmanybooks #unedited #helplines #reach out #water

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asmanybooks · 7 years

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What's your favorite place to read books and think about them?

That’s a hard one, my friend. It’s not so much about a place as it is about good conditions. Quiet time during a class for instance, when you’ve finished your work and pull out your book. Lots of company, but nobody wants your attention and you can just sit there and go into your head. I liked that a lot about school, and I would often get home and find I couldn’t sink as far into the story there as I could in a classroom. Other prime locations for finding good reading conditions: buses, but probably not public buses? I’ve not been on public transportation outside of the metro in DC and the Disney buses. Sorry. Car rides are good about half the time. It depends on the music preferences and conversations of the other passengers, as well as the purpose for the journey. Stressful destinations make it harder to read on the way. I like reading in other people’s houses, but I find it hard to get into a book on my own couch or even in my room. My room is good, but I have my laptop there and can get distracted if I’m not careful. I have a weakness for YouTube. Other people’s houses are great, but I can’t pinpoint why exactly. My grandmother’s house is perfect. She has this one couch that I would happily die on, book in hand. Her house is quiet, but has all the typical life sounds necessary for a good reading session. Silent buildings are terrifying, end of story. Libraries are a bad idea because I might never leave, but also I don’t like to be looked at, which always seems to happen when I chill in libraries.

As for thinking about books, I’d say the same conditions are good. Add in whenever I’m waiting in a line, or pretending to watch a movie with my siblings, or pretty much any other scenario in which my attention is not actively required. I’m a super-nerd, I’m always thinking about them in one way or another. They’re what I like, where I feel most myself and they’re where I want to take my life.

I realised while writing this that my favorite place to read might just be any motor vehicle. I even like reading in parked cars. Something about being in a vehicle lets me disappear between pages in a way any other place couldn’t provide. Look at you anon, getting me on a path of self realisation. Good on you. I’m exhausted, and I have a book on my lap so I’m going to go get into that now. Hope this answered your question in an acceptable manner. This is shit, I’m tired. Goodnight, homie.

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asmanybooks · 7 years

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2.1 Flowers for Algernon

I started Flowers for Algernon as I was falling asleep last night and I’m now more than halfway through. I wanted to do a little post before I read on because the story is fascinating and upsetting me, but mostly making me think. I’ll tell you the moment I needed to stop and recollect my thoughts; it was the bit in the book where Charlie remembers his mother and father arguing about what to do with him.

The father’s view I fully expected, because what parent would want to send their child away when the child was neither a danger nor could he understand ‘being sent away’ to begin with? So Charlie’s father wanted him to stay, and didn’t think he should be locked up just because his sister had the intelligence he did not. One child simply does not replace another.

Charlie’s mother, however, upset me. She wanted to send him off, because now she had a child she could ‘be proud of’. His own mother wanted him gone to keep his sister away from him, to help the family’s image, to finally be a ‘normal’ parent. Charlie recalled his mother’s transition to cruelty after his sister’s birth, the way she would respond coldly when he approached her seeking comfort. Even when he was living with his disabilities he was hurt by his mother’s anger. And when he gained intelligence the hurt went even deeper, because finally he understood it.

And Charlie’s sister, led to believe he was dead when in reality he was being kept from her. I am having trouble putting into words the emotions I felt when I began to think what life might be like if I were in his sister’s shoes. I would be angry, and I would use that anger. I sincerely hope in the coming pages Charlie’s sister uses the intelligence she possesses to fight for Charlie’s benefit and the benefit of those like him, but I don’t think this is that type of story. Only time will tell, I suppose.

I’ll be back with another post about this book when I finish, just so I don’t leave y’all hanging.

#flowers for algernon #reading #books #daniel keyes #writing #journal

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asmanybooks · 7 years

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1. Forgive Me, Leonard Peacock

This was not the book I was going to start my series with originally, but after rereading it I had no choice but to sit down and start typing. When I read, hear, or watch something that gets my head whirring I absolutely need to sit down and let it out. Need, not want. And this book gave me that whirring. This is not a happy book. I repeat: this is not a happy book. This story, if you’re like me, makes you step back and reflect on what might go on in a damaged teenage mind. It makes you search for your similarities to the main character, and when you find them it makes you search harder for the differences. In every book you read you look for connections to the characters, but when it comes to Leonard you search for the connections that character might have to you. Can you save Leonard Peacock? No. Do you want to? I did. I still do. I didn’t want him to feel homicidal, and I didn’t want him to feel suicidal. I didn’t want him to cut his hair. I didn’t want to think about my own hair cutting adventures late at night, because that would mean I might be able to fall as deep into darkness as dear Leonard. I didn’t want him to put the gun in his backpack, I didn’t want him to take it out once it was there. I never wanted him to fire the gun.

I wanted to tell him his four friends would believe he didn’t need to be more than he was, or is. I wanted to wish him a happy birthday. I wanted to tell him that Herr Silverman leaving his long sleeve shirts unrolled was not cowardly, but brave in a way. I wanted to tell him to sit down and force his mother to listen, to tell her all the evil and let her try to fix what she could. I wanted him to just go to his neighbor’s house and watch more ancient movies, until Humphrey Bogart gave Leonard the courage to tell Walt what was going on. I wanted, I wanted, I wanted. But Leonard, of course, couldn’t hear me.

This is not a happy book, and it tells what you know is not a happy story. There is truth in it and that hurts. Real people have the very real thoughts laid out among the pages in this book. Real parents leave their children, even when those children need them. Real children chop off their hair, harass their teachers, plan their suicides, and plot the murder of their classmates. And some go through with those plans, those terrible plans. This is a well-written story, a good book. But an unhappy one. I loved it. It broke my heart and it made me want to reach out my hand to anyone who might be in as much pain as Leonard Peacock. And it made me want to forgive him, although of course he doesn’t need my forgiveness.

I want to go on but I’m emotional and in my opinion this isn’t very good. I hold myself to a high standard and this doesn’t technically make the cut, but maybe everyone should learn to give themselves a break now and again. This is the first of a series of posts, so I’ll let it be rough and unedited.

Read this book. Let it hurt you. Let it make you wish for a better world, because that might inspire us to work for a better one. Look out for each other. Learn the signs, do what you can to help people. That’s all I can say.

#forgive me leonard peacock #reading #books #suicide #homicide #mental health #potential spoilers #spoilers?#Matthew quick

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