What Alice Forgot by Liane Moriarty: (An Impromptu) Book Review

I had this book for a while before I got around to reading it. I actually like reading books in that way: I forget the book for some time and then when I finally read it I can’t remember what it’s about so I have no expectations and minimal disappointments. Before I go into the book I’d like to mention the author, Liane Moriarty, I only realised after I finished the book that she’s the woman who wrote Big Little Lies and now it makes sense. It seems to me her niche is writing about scandals in suburbia, about the wealthy and their secrets. She writes about it well. I don’t think I’d want to read another story so soon that is set in that same setting because quite frankly I can’t relate but I respect her talent in character building and her writing style.

Okay, the book. I have thoughts. I have feelings. I have thoughts and feelings about this book, but I won’t share much of those because this is a book review and not about me (all I will say is that I saw a lot more of myself in younger Alice than I liked and I’ve been thinking about this ever since.)

What Alice Forgot is about Alice – who forgets. Alice is in a spin class one day when she falls over (somehow), knocks her head and when she wakes up she thinks it’s 1998 and not the present year which is 2008. In other words, Alice has lost all her memories of the last 10 years. Including the memory that she’s getting divorced from the love of her life. Alice also believes that she’s pregnant and about to have her first child…only to find out that she has in fact 3 entire children that she can’t remember.

The premise is a bit crazy isn’t it? When I started the book I thought it would be a silly little romance, reminiscent of 50 first dates (Drew Barrymore, Adam Sandler), but it was so much more than that. The book deals with depression, trauma, amnesia, loss, and suicidal ideation. So please be warned it will not be a light read. It also deals a lot with love and what is first love? and what remains of love after love has been through the most?

I enjoyed the book a lot. It dealt with heavy topics without making light of them but still maintaining a lot of humour. And it played out like a mystery; I felt as if I was with Alice trying to piece together the past 10 years and what went wrong and how had she become the person she was now? I felt like I was growing up with Alice, and wondered who would I be in 10 years? If someone showed me that version of myself would I recognise her, and would I be happy with who I’ve become and the decisions I’ve made? Would I be happier and more at peace, or still spinning in this hamster wheel to who knows where?

I recommend this book to anyone, women would probably feel the book more deeply but I don’t think this is a book that’s hard to read and well, it has a satisfying ending and who doesn’t like those?

Re-birth

She claws her way out slowly. Her eyes are closed so she feels for the smooth, tough texture that encapsulates her new body. She feels a new sensation in her back, it’s the wings. They’re thin but strong. She shimmies and struggles, and uses her wings to push her way through. The casing cracks with the combined pressure of her fluttering and kicking and clawing. Rays of light streak through and she feels the sun calling out to her, to come outside. She’s nearly there.

What will the world look like now? She ponders as she works away at the chrysalis. I’m not the same as I was a few months ago; but have I truly changed for the better? Will my new wings take me to where I’ve always wanted to go? High above the rainbow fields and gardens; to far away lands I’ve only heard whispers of.

The Leaf

I was feeling inspired to write something out of the box, inspired by the cold winds that we experienced in early April. So here is The Leaf.

***

It started with a breeze that blew more strongly than usual.

I found it strange, this cold breeze blowing for days on end, but the sun was still shining so I forgot about it.

The sun, the one and only constant in my life. Nourishing me, nurturing me, loving me.

The sun was always there when I opened my eyes, tickling my insides and pouring life into me.

The breeze persisted.

Five days on and I heard a whisper that sent chills down my veins. The others heard it too.

We looked down to where the whisper led us. I shivered. I don’t usually shiver.

I could see some of the others down below were losing their colour. The weak ones. The ones that hid from the sun under the shadow of the others.

They looked a sickly green. They were flaccid and frail. It was the breeze.

This was a winter breeze, I realized too late. It was early, we were only in April.

But sure enough when I saw my lower level counterparts they showed all the symptoms of a winter breeze attack.

I tensed.

I was only a few months old. I had been told about the winter breeze but I thought I still had a few months left.

The winter breeze is the first sign of death.

The mass death that comes to us all in either June or July and by August there’s no one left.

No one except the trunk.

The trunk we are born from, the trunk we remain with ‘til our pre-determined resting time.

The trunk that churns out our replacements year in and year out with no remorse or memory for the lost ones.

I shiver again, the breeze is getting stronger.

I look to the sun. she’s still there.

She doesn’t sense my fear. No, she shines as she always has.

Illuminating the sky with her perfect smile, her rays reach out to me as always. They hug me. They comfort me.

I breathe. In and out.

***

The whispers have been getting louder and louder every day, they’re at about a banshee level scream right now.

It’s me and a couple of others that are left hanging onto our last moments.

The blue sky above me is padded with those wispy cushions that sometimes play hide and seek with the sun.

Today they’ve decided to pause the game. Maybe they can tell it’s my last day here. Maybe they can tell how much I need the sun right now.

I hear a small sound next to me. A whimper. As I turn to the side I see my last comrade fall to the ground beneath us. The ground – I don’t recognize it covered with all their dry, brown remains.

I turn my eyes back up to look at her. She’s still smiling her perfect smile. She’s still hugging me. I can feel it all the way through me.

I make a wish as I feel the weightlessness that comes before the fall.

My stalk breaks.

I fall.

I land on top of the others. Most of them have been here for weeks now.

The trunk towers above me. A mammoth of a trunk, it expands further than I can see.

I look up at the sun as I feel the last bits of carbon dioxide enter my chest.

She’s a lot further than she used to be but she heard my wish.

I know she did because she’s still there, smiling her perfect smile.

Writing Prompt 1

I saw this writing prompt (in bold) online and felt inspired, after a day or two I wrote what I felt about it.

9 October 2017 21.38

His eyes were cold and lifeless as he stared at me. 

“You have no idea who I am, do you?” 

I stared at him wordlessly for a moment, I wasn’t sure how he’d react if I admitted that I had no clue who he was.

“You seem familiar,” I admitted and shrugged, “But in a far away kind of way. I can’t remember whether I know you or not.”

His eyes narrowed and he looked me up and down. A sour look of displeasure morphed his face into something ugly. He seemed offended in some way.

After a few seconds of glaring at me, he let out a breath and said in a matter-of-fact voice, “I am your deepest fear.”

The tone of his voice seemed to click something into place in my brain and a small memory popped back into my head. The memory was of me, miserable and crying. I couldn’t connect with the feeling, it was as if an old, unused part of me that had been turned off for a while had been dusted off and switched back on momentarily.

“My deepest fear?” I asked, more to myself than to the figure standing in front of me. He rolled his eyes impatiently and crossed his arms at me as if I was a child who was taking too long to understand a simple concept.

“Yes. I know you remember me. We’ve known each other for years. I’ve been a part of you for as long as you can remember, so don’t be stupid. Let me in.”

His words came out with an arrogant assuredness, that shook me. Did I truly used to know this thing? This thing that claims it is my biggest fear? Fear. I haven’t known fear for a long time, not in the way I used to anyhow.

Fear. The memories returned like a slap to the face. Memories of a little girl afraid of failure, a little girl afraid of rejection, a little girl afraid of being alone, a little girl afraid of everything.

The memories wafted above my head and refused to settle on me, it seemed as if my body was rejecting them, rejecting the fear the memories held.

“What are you doing?” Fear shouted impatiently, “Let me in, I belong here! This is my – “

He didn’t get to finish off his sentence because in that moment, I realised that I truly didn’t know him. Not anymore.

I remembered him, yes, the memories were there clear for me to see. Although it had been a while since I had revisited those feelings, they were there tucked away in a hiding place in the deep recesses of my mind. But I didn’t know this fear anymore; I didn’t know how it felt to be afraid to be myself, I didn’t know the fear of rejection, I no longer felt fear in the way I had before. Fear was an old adversary, one I admittedly still battled with from time to time and lost. But the difference between then and now was that I no longer feared Fear. As fear stood in front of me, seething with anger, a smile spread across my face and a radiance crept through my chest.

“Oh, you. I remember you.” I beamed at him, “You and I knew each other a while ago and sometimes I still run into you. But if you’ll excuse me, right now I have a new life to start and you’re in my way.”

Insecurity

24 September 2017 23.29

That’s the thing about insecurity, it has no basis.

It doesn’t work on facts, on truth, on reality. Insecurity whispers lies, bold-faced lies, into our lives and we accept them as if the truth doesn’t surround us everyday.
You’re not ugly.
You’re not stupid. You’re not annoying.
You’re not weak.
You won’t fail in life.
You will amount to something.
You will find love.
You are loved.

Those are the facts.

The facts that are evident in everything you do, in the things you say, in the actions you take. But insecurity coils itself around you and squeezes the truth out, replacing it with falsities that cling to your insides. Insecurity settles like a two tonne rock at the bottom of your core and weighs you down every time you try to breathe. Insecurity makes a home inside of you. Insecurity rips apart your self-love and self-awareness and replaces it with its own decor – self-doubt and self-hate. Insecurity paints the walls of your mind black and shuts your eyes, it seals off your ears and controls your every thought.

Insecurity is an evil plight, an infectious disease that, in some cases, lasts a lifetime.

Despite all this, friends, I believe insecurity can be overcome. It can be overcome from within, and it can be overcome with the aid of others. But essentially insecurity can only be defeated when you, yes you reading this; when you decide every single day to fight. To fight insecurity every time it knocks on your door, to choose every day to say no. Not today Satan.