Alex James's Blog: AlexJamesNovels Blog - Posts Tagged "autobiography"

A semi-autobiographical coming-of-age story exploring a fractured personality through the author’s inspired alter egos, Toxic Nursery is a dark humour parody of the main protagonist’s/Carlie’s deranged journey for inclusion and struggle with accepting herself. Her characters frequently “internalise” into the Mindscape, a protective creation of the protagonist’s imagination. They then “externalise” into the real world using the “physical vessel”. There’s angry Alicia, who is furious at how poorly she and others are treated, feminine Honeysuckle who strives for attention and acceptance, Morgana the kind mother figure and spiritualist, Estella the assertive and confident ego alter, and Serena the studious and serene. Each personality dominates or splits as the situation demands.

I read Toxic Nursery as a personal true account of the author’s past, written figuratively. The writing was captivating, flawless, and poetic; and the events flowed logically. The first hundred pages were exceptionally crafted glimpses into fragmented personality, and the dark humour had me in fits of deranged laughter. The author battles through hell to understand herself, and when some light is shed on her predicament, she must keep it together and succeed without lapsing toward self-loathing and self-destructiveness. It is an effortless read that made me flick through pages rapidly to know what would happen next. I understood and empathised with much of the protagonist’s point-of-view, and respect the author; not only for her struggle, but her bravery in reaching out with Toxic Nursery and by splashing it with hilarious comedy without reverting to sentimentalism.

Criticism: There was an abundance of adjectives, mainly in the opening chapter.

Don’t hesitate with Toxic Nursery, read it! It’s original, fresh, horrific, and inappropriate. The sentences have that rare impact and depth, and it really puts reality into perspective.

‘When you write a book, you spend day after day scanning and identifying the trees. When you’re done, you have to step back and look at the forest.’ Stephen King.

On Writing is Stephen King’s semi-autobiography and writer’s tips book. For the first 120 pages, Stephen King summarises his writing history, from a small publishing enterprise with his brother when he was young to writing for magazines at university. We get a number of fragmented ‘glimpses’ into his family, jobs he has held, and some of his early writing successes and failures prior to first publication. These ‘glimpses’ showed what made him the writer he became. Stephen King has since battled through family death, drug addiction, and alcoholism. At the end of this agonising road he came to the conclusion that ‘art is a support system for life’ and not the other way around. It’s a quote I intend to keep in mind.

The second half of On Writing provided writing tips to the aspiring writer; tips King has learnt to use to edit his writing and keep readers engaged with his stories. There are even a few examples of editing at the end of the book. Whether it’s the use of adverbs or dialogue attribution, King keeps it simple and relatable, without assuming a profound knowledge of English grammar or creative writing. The tone of the writing wasn’t snobbish at all. In fact, it was a surprise to read about his background. Without knowing any different, I wrongfully assumed the situation once-a-bestselling-author-always-has-been-a-bestselling-author .While reading, I felt like King was teaching me straightforward lessons while having a conversation.

Criticism: I didn’t agree with the following statements: ‘it is impossible to make a competent writer out of a good one’, ‘equally impossible to make a great writer out of a good one’, ‘if you’re a bad writer, no one can help you become a good one, or even a competent one’, and ‘if you’re good and want to be great fuhgeddaboudit’.

A lesson of note was that although King had been writing since a young age, it was his commitment, perseverance, and his willingness to listen to others that made him a successful person and author.
On Writing is candid, evocative, and bursting with writer advice coming from experience and hindsight. King delivers with personality and humour. On Writing is more than a book, it’s an experience!

‘This autobiographical novel is therefore not about me, it’s about you.’

The close emotional personal experiences of author Nick Crutchley – many painful – were not easy to write about in this review, never mind for the author. I shall try my best.

Initial impressions
I didn’t know what was happening at first, or why, but it was a serious Incident (no spoilers here). The following chapters give us an insight into why it may have happened, but nothing is clear. What I did grasp afterward was that beyond Nick’s initial positive interest in the spiritual and fantasy there’s a lot of pressure on him, evoking great sadness. My interpretation of Deadweight early on was that trouble in family and in teenage friendships/relationships may have had an impact on the Incident, but it’s difficult to be certain.

We move on, and though Nick is often with friends his isolation grows, like a fracturing away. I noticed fewer new positive friendships were mentioned later on, and it’s more awkward with those he already has. I’m unsure how I felt about this fracturing away when reading. As far as I know, there were elements of a few mental illnesses involved. And Nick sought a solution to his problems himself. There was a memorable point in the book after the Incident when he said, ‘the deadweight compresses memories and feelings as I realise no one will ever listen’.

What’s it about?
It’s an autobiography about serious mental illness, pressure, betrayal, friendship, desperation, and hope. To elaborate, Deadweight is author Nick Crutchley’s journey from teenage years to adulthood, covering his friendships, his experiences, and his hard times.

The subject matter is serious, yet I found the delivery addictive as we dive into personalities and situations that move the ‘protagonist’ forward, and so to me it reads like interwoven short stories, with some characters reappearing or getting mentioned again and others fading into obscurity without conclusion; that’s life, I suppose. Part II held most of my attention, being focused on strong bonds and revolving around a spiritual game. In the way it was written I foresaw two possibilities occurring, and one did.

What did it remind me of?
Initially I thought – not being a big autobiography reader – that Deadweight dives into personal experiences in vivid detail that reminded me of Fingers in the Sparkle Jar by Chris Packham. Soon I realised it was not like anything I had read, unlike a fiction story with a beginning-middle-end structure, and compressed with lots of subtle hidden meanings; with a magical, spiritual, and conspiratorial edge.

Is there something to learn from Deadweight?
I think there is. The following thoughts are my own conclusions. I gathered that the author grew up in a time when mental illness was less understood and accepted. When communication with family fails, and when friendships fail and become more distant, there is no support. There is no open channel of communication with those you do know, and none from any external provider. You’re treated as if you have a disease, left alone to find your own solution, and I think this must make things worse. The aim of Deadweight is to promote a more compassionate society, and I think it certainly does this by showing what happens when there is no compassion. A reader only displays a smidgen of the author’s bravery: the author who recorded his close, personal, and painful experiences to the public to help others. It brings a tear to my eye.