A review by kylenestrella
The Becoming of Noah Shaw by Michelle Hodkin

4.0

it's 3am and my mind is half in dream land, half wide awake yet incredibly incoherent either way. this is going to feel less like a review and more of a diary entry--which is what i'm intending.

i feel very whole right now, more than i have in years. mentally n psychologically, it's been pretty rough lately. typical teenage woes, but it's the worst i've ever felt and i'm not sure what to do next with my life. everyone's been there. i've felt very lost, though. i live in a town separate from everyone else, i have failed my permit twice, i need a job yet can't get one bc of my living so far away--it's a real bitch, in summary. again, typical teen shit.

i used to be that kid who gave a new response every day when asked, "What do you want to be when you grow up?" i settled on marine biologist for some time (i'm still not sure why; i love animals, but the ocean frightens me), but one day it kind of just clicked that i wanted to act. i'm not sure what prompted this or started me on this path, but here i am over a decade later, more passionate than ever.

my birthday was 4 days ago (ironically, when this book came out lmao). i first read mara dyer in 7th grade. it was a terrible year for me. i had a crush on a boy who i thought about every waking moment; he convinced me that he liked me back, only for me to discover he was leading me on. good times. even though these two events--my blossoming obsession w/ mara dyer & this asshole fucking with me head--happened in the same year, it feels very separate. i never associated one with the other, even if both gave me a sense of freedom i never felt before.

i wanted to play mara dyer in a movie. (admittedly, i still want to.) this kept me going. acting has always kept me going. when i found out this book was coming out, i was scared to dive in. i thought it would bring me back to the terrible, terrible version of myself i was--so desperate and insecure, displayed in such an unhealthy manner.

because of my slump lately, i read a lot early in the year, but the past few months have been difficult for me to get into things i once loved. i don't watch as many movies, shows fall past me, and books don't capture me the way they once did. because of how terrible i've been feeling, i was terrified to jump into this book. what if i went back to how i once was?

i bought a few books today. i think the ride home is what made me pick it up tonight:

one of--if not my favorite person alive--is my brother. he's six year older, but i think we're actually twins. typical, cliche shit: we finish sentences, we know what the other's thinking, we have more inside jokes than i can count. he took me up north to a town we love to go shopping for the day. one of the stops was barnes & noble, naturally, and the first book i saw and picked up was this. with little to no thought. in fact, i didn't consider it much until i picked it up to read once he went to bed and i was left alone in the living room. on the car ride home, we joked around and laughed until our sides hurt. i can't even remember all that was said, but we started discussing relationships. then, our futures. then, my dreams.

i voiced out loud--for the first time, ever, i think--how i can't get myself on a stage because i keep holding myself back. "i would rather be clueless about my future than know what i want and not be able to get it," is what i told him in so many words. it brought me back to the worry i used to experience in middle school: what if they make this into a movie and i'm not old enough? what if i'm not confident with myself yet? what if i fail completely and have to watch someone else play this character i have fallen in love with? the thought killed me. i hate to say it, but it still, still does.

so. we watched some of baby driver and he went to bed. i stayed up, dog by my side, and cracked it open with no thoughts. i don't think i've ever, really, stayed up to finish a book. i know, i probably seem like a fake book lover by saying that, but i don't know. i've just never been like that. tonight, i did. it's even more surprising when you consider i haven't been able to get through a book, truly, in months. the last time i remember being so hungry while reading was during the fever code, from another series i dearly love.

now it's 3:30 and i seem to have lost the Big Thought i intended on writing when starting this review. my friend is coming over in nine hours to sleep over, rooster teeth has an extra life stream starting in four hours, and i want nothing more than to just sit. but i'm also glad all this is happening this weekend. my parents are in that town up north i mentioned before to celebrate their anniversary. i'm alone w/ my thoughts. my friend is going to be here--the first real, REAL, friend i've ever had, someone i can unapologetically be myself with and she understands--and i get to go outside and feel free for once. we'll eat pizza and watch downton abbey, i'll analyze the performances like i do with everything, and by monday i'll get to start anew. i'll be braver. i'll practice for my permit. maybe i'll go driving w/ my brother in his car, get the feel of it.

i'm of the belief--maybe because of my anxiety, maybe because of something more--that everything is destined. that you can will things into existence just by thinking it. no doubt i've willed into existence that i'll be an actress and that i'll, one day, be happy. thinking something does make it true; wanting something does make it real. something, tonight, feels right. i think i've struck some strange gold mine in my mind. i feel really, really good. i have hope for the first time in so long that i could cry. it's pretty great.

anyways. book was great. give it a whirl. ignore my weird diary bullshit. it's therapeutic.