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lillianhong's review against another edition
5.0
The reason why I took so long to read such a small book, was because I didn't want to finish it. I never wanted it to stop. I loved it too much to let it go.
The book wasn't painful. It wasn't tragic and devastating, but it was raw and it hit me in the heart repeatedly. It struck me with its words and made me cry more than once. I really loved reading it and rolling the beautiful words over in my mind. I wanted to draw Zach's pain. I wish I had the ability to say more.
The book wasn't painful. It wasn't tragic and devastating, but it was raw and it hit me in the heart repeatedly. It struck me with its words and made me cry more than once. I really loved reading it and rolling the beautiful words over in my mind. I wanted to draw Zach's pain. I wish I had the ability to say more.
dlberglund's review against another edition
5.0
All the stars, and all of the tissues were needed to read this book. This was beautifully written, featuring the voice of a confused and introverted teenager who doesn't want to remember why he is where he is, or how he got there. The memories unfold as he gets to know his fellow rehab folks, and even though it got a teensy bit repetitive....it was always a gem. (A gem that made me ugly cry, but still a gem.)
jayistired's review against another edition
5.0
Halfway through the book you’ll find a quote that says : « I’ve learned over the years that if I just begin writing, then I somehow manage to find the right words. I think you already know that I’m a true believer in words. I believe in their power, in their ability to hurt and their ability to heal. »
It pretty much sums it up, not the whole book, but most of it. It also speaks for me, I begun writing this and now, I believe I’ll finish it.
The book speaks about a boy named Zach, who is right now in rehab and doesn’t remember what has happened to him before going there, or maybe he doesn’t want to remember, no one knows.
People in this place, are put into groups: a group of addicts, a group of depressed people, a group schizophrenic people, etc..
it’s more than a simple story, you’ll figure stuff out with zach, you’ll love Rafael, you’ll refuse to say goodbye.
Why are we forced to say goodbye anyways? Goodbyes can be really hard, they can become our monsters.
And now that I mentioned the word monster, what do you think your monster is? Is it a family member? Is it an accident? Is it fear? Is it your mind? What is it?
You’ll find lists there, lists you can use and do the work, as Zach does. You’ll think about a greater force, you’ll think about the power of words, the power of your mind. You’ll learn about breathing, about remembering, about trauma, about addiction, about love, about hate, about isolation and a lot more stuff that can help.
That can really help!
The book is pretty much different from the other books I’ve read of Benjamin Alire Saenz, but still I recommend it. If you want me to rate it, I’ll give it a solid 10 out of 10. Again.
lilyaugust's review against another edition
2.25
eh. didn't love the repetitive language-- i loved it in ari and dante but it really got to me here. kinda overwrought. ending was too easy and sweet and it bugged me. oh well
ervnmts's review against another edition
5.0
This was beautiful. Too beautiful. But I don't mind it being too much.
hulttio's review against another edition
3.0
Yet another book that’s been on my TBR for way too long, since 2012 or so, and I’m finally knocking it off the list! I’ve never read anything by Sáenz before, but I had heard good things and was intrigued by the premise of this book. YA is not usually my thing but I wanted something quick and easy to get through while reading some dense books. Despite being YA, this book deals with a lot of heavy subjects like substance abuse, familial abuse, the aftermath of trauma, and creating a sense of personhood. It was also listed on the page for When Jeff Comes Home by Catherine Atkins, which was my previous read; since I knew this was on my TBR, it felt natural to continue on to reading this book.
The structure and writing style of the book is very poetic; it isn’t a linear narrative, but makes use of flashbacks, monologues to the reader, and the standard first-person POV of Zach, a teenage boy who is spending time in a rehabilitation facility for substance abuse. The conceit of the book is that neither Zach nor we, as readers, know why he is there—what events culminated in his current broken state. Thus, the book takes us on a journey of going along Zach on his path to recovery and to understanding the state of affairs that brought him here. Written in a casual and conversational style, the book was a quick one to get through and I read it in mostly one sitting.
Some of the standard YA tropes annoyed me here. Zach’s voice felt too teenage-like at times, like it was overly forced; some of the ways he said things also felt unrealistic. But maybe that’s just a sign of this book being written in 2009. Somehow, I still don’t remember teens talking like Zach back then…but I digress. His attitude has a razor-sharp edge, which was almost laughable if I didn’t know it was on-the-nose for how you feel at the age of 18. Still, despite this, Zach was a character I could empathize with—his struggles felt real, which is a credit to Sáenz’s writing.
This book also has strong side characters, like Zach’s therapist Adam and his roommate Rafael. It was delightful seeing Zach open up more and more to these characters and see how their relationships and trust developed over the course of the book. Sometimes Zach reacts in frustrating ways, but it only goes to show that the process of recovery is painful and difficult, and no matter the trauma, uncovering those demons will necessarily involve a degree of pain. Of course Zach wants to avoid that pain, and that is understandable. But as a reader, you nevertheless want to root for him overcoming this temporary pain so that he can begin healing from his trauma. Since this is a YA book, it’s more on the optimistic side of things, and the ending was a bit cliched but felt realistic.
Seeing Zach slowly come to understand himself as a person, let alone a person capable of being loved and respected, was quite valuable to read. But I did find that Sáenz’s writing could be rather repetitive. The book is narrated in first-person POV by Zach, but Sáenz has him constantly repeating the same phrases over and over again, and repeating his same stubborn refusal to remember up until the last few chapters of the book. The reveal of what happened to Zach wasn’t particularly difficult to grasp, either. Perhaps these elements would work better for the intended YA audience. But I can only imagine how many times a teenager would even be able to get through reading ‘that tore me up’ or ‘that wigged me out’ before getting annoyed. I can understand that teens might think like this, or deal with trauma in this way, but as a reader, it’s not as engaging to read a book written in this style.
The themes discussed in this book are important, even more so today; addiction and trauma are invisible topics that society loves to pretend to deal with superficially, but in reality, doesn’t want to get their hands dirty to actually understand and deal with them in all of their unpleasantness. Recovering from addiction and trauma is not easy nor painless, but society is not well-equipped to deal with that. In a way, this book was a hopeful read because things were set up nicely for Zach—and all within reason in the narrative—where he was able to spend about two months in an intensive rehab facility and meet people who truly cared for him and his journey. In reality, things might not work out so neatly, but it was nice to read a situation where something like this is possible, and that does give me a little bit of hope. Moving forward, even when the path is unclear and unpaved and littered with painful memories, is hope. Conceiving of ourselves as agents of change is hope. Not limiting ourselves to our trauma and past is hope. This is what this book has emphasized, and these messages are important not just for the YA audience but for anybody. Perhaps this isn’t the most well-written or interesting book, but it is an important one nonetheless.
The structure and writing style of the book is very poetic; it isn’t a linear narrative, but makes use of flashbacks, monologues to the reader, and the standard first-person POV of Zach, a teenage boy who is spending time in a rehabilitation facility for substance abuse. The conceit of the book is that neither Zach nor we, as readers, know why he is there—what events culminated in his current broken state. Thus, the book takes us on a journey of going along Zach on his path to recovery and to understanding the state of affairs that brought him here. Written in a casual and conversational style, the book was a quick one to get through and I read it in mostly one sitting.
Some of the standard YA tropes annoyed me here. Zach’s voice felt too teenage-like at times, like it was overly forced; some of the ways he said things also felt unrealistic. But maybe that’s just a sign of this book being written in 2009. Somehow, I still don’t remember teens talking like Zach back then…but I digress. His attitude has a razor-sharp edge, which was almost laughable if I didn’t know it was on-the-nose for how you feel at the age of 18. Still, despite this, Zach was a character I could empathize with—his struggles felt real, which is a credit to Sáenz’s writing.
This book also has strong side characters, like Zach’s therapist Adam and his roommate Rafael. It was delightful seeing Zach open up more and more to these characters and see how their relationships and trust developed over the course of the book. Sometimes Zach reacts in frustrating ways, but it only goes to show that the process of recovery is painful and difficult, and no matter the trauma, uncovering those demons will necessarily involve a degree of pain. Of course Zach wants to avoid that pain, and that is understandable. But as a reader, you nevertheless want to root for him overcoming this temporary pain so that he can begin healing from his trauma. Since this is a YA book, it’s more on the optimistic side of things, and the ending was a bit cliched but felt realistic.
Seeing Zach slowly come to understand himself as a person, let alone a person capable of being loved and respected, was quite valuable to read. But I did find that Sáenz’s writing could be rather repetitive. The book is narrated in first-person POV by Zach, but Sáenz has him constantly repeating the same phrases over and over again, and repeating his same stubborn refusal to remember up until the last few chapters of the book. The reveal of what happened to Zach wasn’t particularly difficult to grasp, either. Perhaps these elements would work better for the intended YA audience. But I can only imagine how many times a teenager would even be able to get through reading ‘that tore me up’ or ‘that wigged me out’ before getting annoyed. I can understand that teens might think like this, or deal with trauma in this way, but as a reader, it’s not as engaging to read a book written in this style.
The themes discussed in this book are important, even more so today; addiction and trauma are invisible topics that society loves to pretend to deal with superficially, but in reality, doesn’t want to get their hands dirty to actually understand and deal with them in all of their unpleasantness. Recovering from addiction and trauma is not easy nor painless, but society is not well-equipped to deal with that. In a way, this book was a hopeful read because things were set up nicely for Zach—and all within reason in the narrative—where he was able to spend about two months in an intensive rehab facility and meet people who truly cared for him and his journey. In reality, things might not work out so neatly, but it was nice to read a situation where something like this is possible, and that does give me a little bit of hope. Moving forward, even when the path is unclear and unpaved and littered with painful memories, is hope. Conceiving of ourselves as agents of change is hope. Not limiting ourselves to our trauma and past is hope. This is what this book has emphasized, and these messages are important not just for the YA audience but for anybody. Perhaps this isn’t the most well-written or interesting book, but it is an important one nonetheless.
abbe3's review against another edition
dark
emotional
hopeful
inspiring
reflective
sad
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
5.0
An emotional and beautiful book about addiction, recovery, emotions and male vulnerability and love. <Spoiler> I was especially touched about Zach's relationships with all the men in his life, Adam, Rafael, Sharkey, M. Garcia, Amit. With help from the men he learned to express his emotions and to know both that he is loved and that he loves. Watching him go from sadness to realizing happiness and love is also written on his heart. I found it to be a beautiful depiction of male vulnerability, emotions and love. And the end was inspiring and beautiful. </Spoiler>
jrlewke32's review against another edition
5.0
I don't know what drew me to this book. It definitely wasn't its cover. All I know is I'm grateful I was drawn to it and that I got the chance to dive into the heads of two extraordinary characters. It's not an easy read because one way or another you will either see yourself or a friend as one of the characters, which can be heart wrenching at first. But as the recovery process goes on, it becomes a story of pure hope and love. I cried at numerous parts, but depending on your backgrounds, the parts will vary. This book will hit a soft spot for everyone. It's one size fits all.