I love this book. It was really validating to identify so strongly with Cindy's journey even though, despite some important commonalities, we've had reasonably different lives. But that's not the only reason I liked it.
This book is a great example of "form mimics content." It's a neurodivergence memoir written in a very neurodivergent, and neurodivergent-friendly, way. Yes I recognize that that sentence was redundant.
The vignettes are all pretty short so you can really focus on them. But they're also densely packed with intense meaning and image. You get a whole-ass scene from just half a page sometimes. They're earnest and they're genuine. It's very clear what Cindy is getting at in each one, there's no dancing around the bush about things. And taken all together, the vignettes proceed according to their own logic to paint a very crisp and coherent picture of Cindy's story. Maybe like pointillism or something?
And despite the earnestness, I feel the realness of Cindy's story. Like, I feel she's being real with me. When other writers try earnestness it can sometimes come off smarmy or preachy or weird. But Cindy is direct because Cindy is direct. That's how she is and that's how her vignettes are, but since she has lived such a varied life with so many events, digressions, adventures, anticlimaxes ... etc, there still is quite a journey to go on in this memoir.
And as a neuro-curious person (is that a thing? it's gotta be because that's what I am) that's the part of this book that I identify with the most- the directness and the naked depth she's going for. It's a thing I think weirds people out about my own self. Always wanting to be earnest, to get to the meaning of things, to dig deeper, and especially to do better. Without an alternative motive, without all the other games that can go on. What is the deal with that?? I don't know. It just is.
I think some neurodiverse brains be like that and this neurodivergence book be like that too. Enjoy.