Small delicate chapters that create a world, each chapter head so precise in all creating a story, a plot of the reader’s own making. Reading alongside, accompanying these thoughts just as ‘the little girl hums strange songs to herself all the while’ as the narrator and her father play their odd game (116).
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Mental illnesses like ____ create and hold definitions. Living with ____ is more of a slog than reading with it. ‘You were done, you were done, you were done with being hopeless.’ (329). Would that the doing could ever be so easy.
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In awe of writerly precision even more this second read, after loving the first bite of its hard honesty. ‘I tried to figure out if I felt calmer with a blanket over my head. No I did not was the answer’ (5).
