Thoughts – Sam Stark

I’ve been lax at updating this blog, so I thought I would take a few minutes to review a book I read yesterday. The book is “Summer Sons” by Lee Mandelo, and it’s awesome.

Andrew and Eddie did everything together, best friends bonded more deeply than brothers, until Eddie left Andrew behind to start his graduate program at Vanderbilt. Six months later, only days before Andrew was to join him in Nashville, Eddie dies of an apparent suicide. He leaves Andrew a horrible inheritance: a roommate he doesn’t know, friends he never asked for, and a gruesome phantom with bleeding wrists that mutters of revenge.

As Andrew searches for the truth of Eddie’s death, he uncovers the lies and secrets left behind by the person he trusted most, discovering a family history soaked in blood and death. Whirling between the backstabbing academic world where Eddie spent his days and the circle of hot boys, fast cars, and hard drugs that ruled Eddie’s nights, the walls Andrew has built against the world begin to crumble, letting in the phantom that hungers for him.

Okay.

I’ve seen this novel compared to Maggie Stiefvater’s “Raven Cycle” series a few times and I agree. There are many, many elements of this story that mirror and compliment that one. However, it must be said that this book is far more adult and far less whimsical.

But trust me, that’s a good thing. Seriously, read this book.

This story is about grieving. Bottom line. The pain Andrew is going through after losing his best friend Eddie is visceral. If you’ve experienced loss of a loved one, some of this will be hard to get through because it will cut a very deep and familiar path through your heart. Compound that with the anxiety of coming into your sexuality and coming out? It’s a powder keg of raw, real shit. And I’m so here for it.

If you’re not a fan of slow burns, then you should probably get out now. This story’s pace is edging at its finest. Masterfully holding on to its tension and keeping us from any kind of respite or relief for so long that when it all starts to finally unravel It. Is. Exquisite.

I cannot recommend this book enough.

A few extra thoughts: The horror elements are subtle at first but unlike the slow burn of the story, they amp up pretty quickly. There’s a fair amount of gore, especially toward the end, but nothing so traumatizing it needs mentioning. That being said, I should put a warning for suicide and suicidal themes here. Please proceed with caution if this is something that triggers you.

There are also heavy sexual themes, and yes, there is sex (fist pump). It’s not overly graphic, but it’s not a fade to black either. The romance element of this story is a bit in the background but at the same time, it’s one of the main cogs driving things forward. You’ll understand once you read it. It’s excellent, trust me.

And last, but certainly not least, I am ecstatic over the trans representation. Thank you, Lee Mandelo for writing a major character who is trans but not having their “transness” be their defining feature.

In closing: Read This Fucking Book.

Stories are everywhere.

I met an old man in line at the grocery store yesterday. He was friendly and from what I could tell, he was kind. He acquiesced his place in line to a mother with two kids and a cart full of stuff, even though I think he had gotten there first and he had maybe five items in his basket. Someone who gives up a spot in line at the busy hour, to someone who has at least two hundred dollars worth of stuff to ring up, is probably a saint.

I was curious so I stepped in behind him and struck up a conversation. I have experience with the elderly from my time working geriatric care, and I’m pretty confident in my ability to engage. He really was extremely friendly, and funny. I discovered that he had lived in one of the big houses down the street from my parents while I was growing up. Crazy coincidence. He and his wife had nine children, and are right now expecting their twelfth great grandchild.

It took four minutes to get to know the basics of this man’s life. He remembered his last three addresses, all the way back to the 1940’s. He could tell me about machine shops during the war, about his kids swimming at the lake on hot days, and all the names of every dog he had ever owned. It was amazing.

Only when he had finished paying for his small bag of groceries and started to head out, turning to give me a little wave and a sweet smile, did I realize I never asked his name.

I have no idea what the point of this musing is, not really. I was just thinking about how every person you pass on the street, or say “excuse me” to on the bus, or stand behind in line at the grocery store has a life, and a story. Not every person is going to be a nice old man that likes ice cream and telling stories about his kids–most are probably shit bags actually, but the whole thing just got me thinking.

I love discovering bits and pieces of lives like that, it’s very inspiring. I highly recommend taking some time to just listen to people once in a while. Ask questions. Collect characters and ideas from real situations. It makes it more authentic and believable, immersive.

Again, I have no idea what the point of this post is. I’m 190,000 words into the novel and my brain is starting to function on some strange plane between exhausted and teetering on the edge of a fourth dimensional epiphany. Or psychosis. One of those.

I hope everyone is having a good week.