A memoir of sex, angst, and rocks, Turn to Stone chronicles one woman’s ascent—on walls of stone and within herself—as she faces her demons and finds freedom and power in the raw and wild adventure of rock climbing.
Down on the ground, it was hard to connect, hard to attach, hard to untangle, hard to let go. But up here, I understood. Up here, I could make it good.
Broken by an abusive relationship, lifelong New Yorker Emily Weinstein impulsively tries rock climbing on a California road trip, following strangers into the vertical world. Soon, she is consumed by her addiction to the freedom she feels when she’s up on the wall. Holding on to the rocks, she is free from societal constraints and expectations, free from her own sorrows and longings.
In a poignant, fierce, and funny voice, Weinstein describes the steep learning curve of becoming a climber, spending weeks at a time sleeping in the back of her Subaru, and a long, dark night stuck on top of a mountain. Like Cheryl Strayed’s Wild, but in the vertical, or William Finnegan’s Barbarian Days, if lived by a Jewish woman from Long Island, Turn to Stone tells the story of a journey into nature that becomes a crucible of self-discovery.
Against a tapestry of van-dwellers, anarchists, and Jedi-like Stonemasters, Weinstein explores a world where each leap of faith is an existential lesson. From living on the edge, stepping into the unknown, and falling through thin air, Emily learns to forgive her own failures, heal her deepest wounds, and find courage in the face of fear. Throwing herself at walls of stone, she learns what it means to be human. Fitting her body into the rocks’ broken places, she makes herself whole.
Emily Meg Weinstein was born in New York and raised in Queens and Long Island. She lives on a houseboat in the San Francisco Bay, roams in her second home, the Free Ford Freestar, and roots for the New York Mets.
Without navel-gazing or data dumping, Emily Meg manages to teach us spiritual things, practical things, but matters of the heart elude her. Never before have I seen such bravery in the face of life and death, such openness in the face of new community, and such fear at letting oneself be known, even to oneself.
Emily throws herself into a new way of life right at the book’s start, when a toxic relationship shakes her very foundation of trust and she chooses rock-climbing to escape the rubble. One thing I love about this story is that Emily throws us into things the way I imagine she did for herself, piecing together important information on this extreme sport gathered in the moment. She doesn’t spend time analyzing herself or her bad relationship, but rather allows revelations to organically unfold, trusting the very nature of inquiry itself.
The memoir and Weinstein’s gratitude for her experience felt authentic, and I’m in awe of her bravery, her focus, her determination and self-trust. She writes in a clear language that can sharpen the senses one minute and have you doubled over with laughter the next.
The book left we wanting more: (more, Emily Meg, more!). I want a novel about this fringe community with psychological probing and complex relationship dynamics. I want a sequel memoir where Emily learns to love and be loved in her one-step-at-a-time approach. But I have a funny feeling Emily Meg doesn’t need my ideas and hopes and visions; she seems to have plenty of her own.
I've read a lot of climbing memoirs but this is the first one I've found that's not a celebrity tell-all. It was really refreshing to read a climbing book that captures the magic from the perspective of a very average climber who is in it more for the lifestyle than the actual sport. "I didn't think I could do the big thing and then I did the big thing" gets kind of boring as a takeaway, and this book contains none of that!
I definitely didn't agree with all of Emily's hot takes, especially the weird rant where she calls women's spaces a "pink and dickless barbie world." I found this passage particularly confusing since it is nestled amongst multiple stories of the author's own experiences being sexually harassed or feeling unsafe around men... Fine by me if Weinstein doesn't need/like affinity spaces, but her white lady takedown of affinity spaces in general felt a little tone-deaf.
But, overall the writing about climbing was good enough that I could overlook our differences in opinion. Turn to Stone was page-turny and nostalgic for this former dirtbag, and I would love to read more non-celebrity climbing stories like it.
Thank you to the publisher for giving me an arc. I don’t know a lot about rock climbing, other than that one El Cap documentary, and thought the author did a good job teaching the reader about climbing as she learned in the memoir. Until the 50% mark I was really enjoying this memoir. then things took a sharp turn.
The author is Jewish but not religious. She doesn’t observe any holidays, which is pretty common for American Jews. She specially says she dislikes Passover because, “The believers said it was all about freedom, but if you actually read the story, it was about praying to G-d to free you by killing other people’s children… not pray to some fake G-d for a real brown child to die.” The text makes it clear that this is directly connected to her pro Palestine beliefs. However this kind of falls apart when she meets a man who served in the IDF special forces, rock climbs with him, and has sex with him. Some quotes from that 3 page section that stood out to me - “Yoav chuckled. “You have a lot of fire,” he said, “for someone who has never seen war.” I almost asked him if he thought that what he had done was really just war, or if it was something else even worse, but it felt like we were far away from wars, and even words.”
“We didn’t talk much about where he was from—in fact, we didn’t talk much at all, but I was desperate to ask him what he’d done, where he was from, and why he’d done it, because he was so kind— gentle, even.”
“I’d encountered many Israelis in nearly every foreign city and beach town, all on long trips after finishing their military service, Jewish Rumspringas on which Palestinians were curiously never invited. When I asked why he was taking this trip now, he told me he’d spent extra time in the military, in the Special Forces. “Whoa,” I said. “You must have seen some things.” “Yes,” he replied. “And done some things.” He nodded. So I asked my one question, since we had already been quite naked before each other. “Why’d you do it?” I asked. “Whatever you did.” “I thought I had to,” he said. “To protect my family.”“
Emily is in her mid-30s during this. She’s not a teenager whose politics are still forming. She should be fully able to understand how having sex with this random guy who CHOOSE to spend more time in the idf, including special training, does not mesh with her apparent care for Palestinians. Less than 48 hours after she has sex with this man, when someone asks why her parents are worried about not being able to contact her, she says, ““Because we are Jewish,” I answered. “And very anxious, and afraid of death. That’s actually also why Israel is doing apartheid genocide in Palestine,” I added.” Like I’m absolutely baffled by this choice?? (She also had a freak out about finding out the guy she thought about hooking up with is only 18, asks a friend if that makes her a pedophile, and then has sex with him anyway.) I can’t recommend this book in good faith, no matter how enjoyable I found the early parts. I’m not sure what big thought I should have about the disconnect Emily has, only that I think it’s kind of standard among western leftists. 1 star
I love adventure sports. Also I’m terrified of ending up alone so this book kinda stressed me out
Very interesting how it’s been labeled a memoir about “sex” — p sure many male climbers have had similar experiences to Emily but they choose not to write about it/introspect about it? And if they do, their books are not labeled sex books…
Book Review: Turn to Stone: A Memoir by Emily Meg Weinstein
Rating: 4.2/5
Reactions & Emotional Resonance As a sociologist and public health professional, I was drawn to Weinstein’s memoir for its visceral exploration of trauma, embodiment, and healing through extreme physicality. Her narrative—framed by rock climbing as both literal and metaphorical ascent—resonates with feminist theories of reclaiming agency through the body. The raw honesty with which she describes her abusive relationship and subsequent escape into the “vertical world” evoked a mix of admiration and unease. While her journey aligns with narratives of empowerment (e.g., Wild), I found myself critically reflecting on the gendered dimensions of risk-taking: Is this liberation, or a survival mechanism forged in a society that fails to protect women from violence?
Strengths -Embodied Resistance: Weinstein’s climbing becomes a radical act of self-reclamation, challenging sociocultural expectations of female fragility. Her descriptions of fitting into the rocks’ broken places mirror Judith Butler’s theories of performative identity, suggesting that healing is an active, iterative process. -Structural Subtext: Although not explicitly stated, the memoir critiques systemic gaps in trauma support. Her reliance on transient communities (van-dwellers, anarchists) highlights how marginalized individuals often create alternative safety nets. -Intersection of Risk and Health: The book inadvertently raises public health questions about adventure sports as therapeutic interventions. Her addiction to climbing’s freedom parallels research on “flow states” and mental health recovery.
Constructive Criticism -Limited Structural Analysis: Weinstein’s focus on personal transformation overlooks broader systemic issues (e.g., lack of accessible trauma care, socioeconomic barriers to outdoor sports). A deeper interrogation of privilege (e.g., mobility, whiteness) would strengthen its sociological relevance. -Romanticization of Risk: While her stunts are awe-inspiring, the memoir occasionally glorifies precariousness without addressing how gender, class, or trauma histories shape risk-taking behaviors. A public health lens would demand more nuance here. -Underdeveloped Community Dynamics: The anarchist and climbing subcultures she engages with are fascinating but superficially sketched. A sociologist craved deeper analysis of their norms, hierarchies, and exclusions.
Final Thoughts Turn to Stone is a compelling addition to feminist memoirs of resilience, though its individualistic focus may leave critical readers wanting more systemic critique. Its greatest contribution lies in its unflinching portrayal of the body as a site of both oppression and liberation.
Thank you to the publisher and Edelweiss for the review copy—this memoir sparks vital conversations about trauma, embodiment, and the spaces where healing happens.
Rating: 4.2/5 (A powerful but imperfect exploration of agency and risk, with room for deeper structural engagement.)
This was good and I enjoyed reading about a very mid climber who loves climbing even though she isn’t a pro. I also loved that the author was in her thirties, which felt more relatable and inspiring to me than reading about the experience of a person in their twenties. However, she is a bit of a pick me girl, and went on annoying and eye rolling tangents about “not understanding women who only want to climb with only women”, and long rants about Mormons which, as someone born and raised in Utah (but not Mormon), I always find so dull and uninteresting. Mormons are hardly less crazy than literally any other religion lol. So yeah, really liked the book, very readable, loved the climbing stories and hearing about still pursuing a life of adventure in your mid thirties. But just know the author is a little annoying at times.
Ok well hmmm. I’m not sure what to say about this book.
The first half of the book I was excited, elated even, to have this fellow New Yorker talk about her otherness in the field of outdoor spaces and sports and I was enjoying listening to her talk about her dirtbag “amateur” experience . And then towards the end of the book there were a couple sections that made me question the authors internalized misogyny as there is a whole paragraph about her not “understanding girls only events” and calling them a “pink and dickless Barbie world” and also her ego where she learned from old climbers that hanging onto gear was shameful. Being a novice female climber myself it doesn’t make me feel great to hear this women touting herself as proud and amateur take the advice of men and criticize herself for something as little as hanging on gear when you need to.
It just became less and less inclusive and the real topper on the cake was her sleeping with an Israeli and then asking herself why she couldn’t ask him about the apartheid genocide. She also sleeps with an 18 year old and almost laughs it off as if that’s the kind of things “free spirits” or dirt bags do. Her lack of self reflection just becomes annoying and boring after a while.
Her writing about climbing are the best parts and beautifully described but I’m not sure I could recommend.
I really enjoyed some of the sections about climbing but I don’t jive with idea of refusing to pay for campsites and breaking national park rules on purpose. And the author seems really focused on male validation. I don’t think this book was for me.
Here lies a memoir that slaps harder than gravity on an overhung pitch. Turn to Stone isn’t just Emily Meg Weinstein’s first book, it’s a full-send off the emotional crag, chalked-up with raw introspection, poetic vulnerability, and just the right amount of unshaven armpit grit.
But let’s start with the cover art. As a designer by skill, I love how her cover art “reads” non-binary allowing the viewer to imagine themselves first before delving into the subject matter and realizing this is a memoir of a woman’s journey in self-discovery. Even the “a memoir”, in a script lipstick-painterly-esque font style, isn’t a dominate text graphic. This non-binary approach feels appropriate and appreciated. Kudos to her and her skillful graphic cover art designer @_elimock.
Now delving beyond the cover art and into her world, aka the book. As a fellow lover of trauma healing (read: trauma hoarder turned emotional cartographer), I devoured this like post-climb pad thai, comforting, complex, slightly sticky with some edible scenic greenery.
Emily’s storytelling is less “woe is me” and more “watch me duct tape my soul back together and climb this damn rock.” You don’t need to be a climber to get it. You just need to have ever tried, and failed, to love someone, or yourself!
What struck me (besides the urge to Google “What is an ATC belay device again?”) was how Emily transforms every granite slab and janky van life pit stop into metaphorical gold. Her writing is educational without ever lecturing. It’s like she’s your older, cooler sister who went to therapy and took a NOLS course, and now she’s telling you bedtime stories with beta for your heart.
There were moments I felt like she’d stolen pages from my own journal, like how I feel about hiking, “Trudge, trudge, trudge, schlep, schlep, schlep”. Her account of loving too hard, too fast, then peeling herself off the wall and choosing herself, again and again, hits home. I too have danced with rock bottoms (metaphorical and actual), and there’s nothing quite like flinging yourself into the unknown for the sake of healing. Emily doesn’t flinch. She stares it down and cracks a joke before jumping.
This book is a love letter to the dirtbags, the dreamers, and the damaged. While I don’t ever feel compelled to climb like she has climbed, or ever even attempt climbing myself, Emily made learning about rock climbing appealing nonetheless splicing personal milieu with her rock climbing milieu. Turn to Stone made me want to lace up my emotional climbing shoes and start scrambling toward myself again.
Great first memoir outing. I look forward to your audiobook narrated in your voice to really feel your spirit in your book. I also look forward to your next books as I’m sure there is more to come from you.
I was one of the writers who wrote a blurb for Emily's book. Reposting it here: "With prose that seems magic, Emily Meg Weinstein captures the inmost, almost-inexpressible experiences of climbing: those moments of transmutation, high above the ground, of stone into light, air into freedom, body into song."
"No one is coming to save you. There is only gravity, dirt, rock, and sky."
I've been a big fan of extreme sports (watching, not participating) for ages, so when this book landed in my lap, I was all in.
I was not disappointed.
Weinstein has such a readable writing style. Serious and angst-ridden while humorous and relatable. As good a read for millennials as boomers ... and everyone in between.
Inspirational is probably the wrong word. But motivational isn't the right word either.
Just, honestly, whatever you're going through, Turn to Stone has a moment for that.
This book spoke to my soul in much the same way the Monk & Robot stories do. It's about the journey. The physical one, certainly, but also the very human existential crisis one.
"Sleeping in the dirt soothed my soul. I loved the people and the culture of climbing, the itinerant, traveling lifestyle, the way everyone was an accidental Buddhist because you had to get a little bit enlightened, just to do it at all, and doing it further enlightened you."
Ended up DNFing this one 🫣 I don’t think it’s a bad book, but I think the writing style just wasn’t for me? It felt choppy, and it felt like the author couldn’t choose between writing for a climbing audience or a non-climbing audience (i.e., lots of descriptions of what basic elements in climbing are - which is okay to an extent - but felt excessive and had me skipping over chunks of text whenever those landed on a page). All in all, I think it had the potential to be good but just fell flat for me. I promised myself I’d stick to it for at least 50%, but a few percentage points beyond that and I had to put it down and admit that it’s just not the book for me. Maybe it’ll hit better for a non-climbing audience?
Turn to Stone is a great read for anyone who loves travel and adventure writing. I was excited to see places like Joshua Tree, Yosemite, and Squamish woven into the story. I’ve visited all of them as a trail runner, and her descriptions brought back so many memories of my time there. It was fascinating to experience those landscapes through a climber’s perspective as someone who doesn’t climb. I also really felt her emotions throughout the book and found that many of her experiences and opinions resonated with my own.
As a climber, I liked some aspects of this book — the insight into the climbing culture, her journey learning increasingly difficult climbing techniques and routes. But I was overwhelmed by the different climbing partners who all blended together. I lost track of who was a romantic partner and not. And while I appreciate the deep reflections about family, life and love, it felt contrived and I couldn’t connect with it. Maybe I needed to be smoking one of those big doobs.
This memoir has a great, shocking start, a life-threatening relationship that warns the author to change her life for good. She finds meaning in nature on such an inspiring journey. From the first desire to climb to a life of personal achievement and growth. I enjoyed this one a lot. Also, fantastic cover design.
DNF 20 pages in. The author’s writing style just didn’t work for me - it was simultaneously too choppy, too longwinded, and not detailed enough? Somehow?
I love climbing and was excited to read this but found the author’s voice grating for some reason.
I thought the author did a really great job of both capturing the magic of rock climbing as well as shining a very authentic light on how it feels to be female in a predominantly male activity.
Essayist and memoirist Weinstein finds rock climbing to be one of the first things that didn’t come easily to her. Engaging from the first chapter, this cliff hanger grabs the reader as the author traverses the continent, east to west, metaphorically and geographically to flee the city, the New York culture, she grew up in. Seeking healing following a dark time in her life, she finds both connection in the rock climbing community and beauty and perspective in the vertical space of the natural world of the west coast.
Weinstein embarks on a mission to test her boundaries, become proficient in a largely male dominated environment, literally step by step. She shares her tenderest emotions, her questioning spirituality, and passionate and fervent activism. And still, it’s funny! With disarming honesty, dry wit, and dark humor, this memoir often had me choking with laughter.
As a 70-year-old Jewish grandmother, (what Weinstein aspires to one day become), I am a non-climber. But I have fallen on the sidewalks of New York City. Stone is hard. It’s unforgiving! In contrast, Weinstein is unabashed and sincere about her softer goals, her desire for love, a trusted personal relationship, motherhood, seeking a good fit, and “good oxygen.”
Turn to Stone should find a wide audience, a great gift for anyone in any category of personal journey. I’m recommending this as both a travel memoir in the genre of Alain de Bouton’s The Art of Travel, and a relatable personal reflection that I find unforgettable.