Nearly half a million children are in foster care. Most placements fail. Will seven-year-old Maresa's?
"It starts with a face in a binder. CHILDREN AVAILABLE, reads the cover." So begins Rachel Howard's intimate and heartbreaking novel about a couple hoping to adopt a child from foster care, then struggling to make it as a family. Seven-year-old Maresa arrives with an indomitable spirit, a history of five failed foster care "placements," and a susceptibility to angry panic attacks fueled by memories of abuse. Maresa's new foster mother, whose name the reader never learns, brings good intentions but also her own history of trauma, while her husband's heart condition threatens to explode. These three flawed but deeply human characters want more than anything to love each other--but how does a person get to unconditional love? Over the course of a year, as Maresa approaches the age at which children become nearly impossible to place, all three must discover if they can move from being three separate people to a true family—or whether, almost unthinkably, the adoption will fail.
Written in a spare and thought-provoking style evoking aspects of Jenny Offill and Rachel Cusk, The Risk of Us deftly explores the inevitable tests children bring to a marriage, the uncertainties of family life, and the ways true empathy obliterates our defenses.
Rachel Howard is a writer of fiction, personal essays, memoir, and dance criticism. Her debut novel, The Risk of Us, will be published by Houghton Mifflin Harcourt April 2019, and is garnering strong advance praise. Jenny Offill, author of Dept. of Speculation, calls it "An emotionally complex and amazingly suspenseful novel about love and fear." Belle Boggs, author of The Art of Waiting, says: "Rachel Howard has given us a portrait of family-building and attachment that is at once beautiful and painful, serious and funny, page-turning and insightful. I was deeply moved by this novel, a powerful reminder of the risks we take on whenever we love anyone."
Rachel’s first book was a memoir about her father's unsolved murder, The Lost Night. She was interviewed about the book by Ira Glass for an episode of This American Life. She is a graduate of the MFA Program for Writers at Warren Wilson College and a fellow of the MacDowell Colony. Her fiction and nonfiction has appeared in Gulf Coast, ZYZZYVA, Waxwing (nominated for a Pushcart Prize), O Magazine, OZY, Canteen, Berfrois, the Arroyo Literary Review, the Los Angeles Review of Books, and elsewhere.
Formerly an arts journalist for the San Francisco Chronicle, she has published arts and dance writing in The New Yorker Online, the New York Times, Ballet Review, and the Hudson Review, among other publications.
She lives in Nevada City, CA, where she founded Yuba Writers’ Workshops, and a reading series, Yuba Lit, now a fiscally sponsored project of the Nevada County Arts Council.
In her mid-thirties, after a lifetime of thinking she was a terrible singer, Rachel learned to sing in an Oakland piano bar called The Alley. She still goes to The Alley about twice a month to be with friends and sing.
This is not an easy book to read, yet I couldn’t put it down. It’s a short book that manages to cover complex emotions as well as the complexity of the foster care system. The story is narrated by a woman whose name we never learn and she addresses her husband, Sebastian and the troubled child, Maresa who they decide to foster with hopes of adopting. “It starts with a face in a binder. CHILDREN AVAILABLE, reads the cover. the recruitment brochure for this foster services agency says they need families that “take risks”......” . It becomes Immediately clear how much of a risk to all three of them this is when they take in this troubled seven year old who was taken away from a drug addicted, drug dealing mother, separated from her sister. The scenes of her anger and screams and hitting are tough to read but not more disturbing than the abuse this child has endured. There are difficult, painful moments with what seems like so few of joy.
I didn’t know who I felt for the most, this broken little girl or this couple whose marriage feels a little at risk and who have a difficult time dealing with Maresa as well as the snarling facets of the foster care system that they grapple with. Our unnamed narrator is burdened by her own past horrific experiences as a child. I couldn’t help but wonder as she did whether this would help or hurt the situation. They have doubts about whether to finalize the adoption. Do they have the capacity to love this little girl? Is Maresa capable of loving anyone? This is suspenseful until the end when we learn the answer. When looking to see what else the author had written, I noticed that she has written a memoir and the description of it is very much like the experience of the narrator in this novel. It certainly had me wondering how much more of the story was was biographical. In any event, this is an emotional and eye opening story that kept me interested wanting to know how it would end up.
I received an advanced copy of this book Houghton Mifflin Harcourt through Edelweiss.
The Risk of Us is an emotional, compelling and heartbreaking story. I found this to be a difficult book to read because of the subject matter and yet I couldn’t put it down.
Sebastian and his wife (who we never discover her name) have made the decision to go through the fostering system which will hopefully lead them to eventually adopt a child of their own. Having researched and attended a few meetings they believe they are more than ready to begin the process. When they meet seven year old Maresa their hearts are filled will love for this little girl. But sadly Maresa is a troubled little girl who holds a lot of anger and with anger comes many outbursts which are not easy to deal with. Maresa’s behavior starts to cast a huge strain on Sebastian and his wife’s marriage, which will lead to them to question if they will be the suitable parents for Maresa.
This is an incredible tale about family, fostering and adoption. A truly beautiful and powerful story that will remain with you long after you’ve finished it. Highly recommended.
I was drawn to the subject matter of this book and was looking forward to reading it. I am glad that it was a short book because I am not sure I would've finished it if it were much longer, except that I wanted to know how it ended. The writing style was distracting and felt very detached and skipped all over the place to me. It took a few pages to figure out who the narrator was- it kept going back and forth between “I say” and “You say” and I never really grew attached to anyone in the story, except the child, Maresa, the only character who had some heart and soul. The therapists were repeatedly called the “blonde bimple therapist”,or the “grey-crowned social worker”, or the “surfer dude” to the point that it was just annoying. Just give them names. Thanks to Houghton Mifflin Harcourt and Edelweiss for the advance digital review copy.
This is the story of a couple’s struggle to fall in love with a child, told with lyrical precision and a complete absence of sentimentality. The unnamed narrator is a woman in her forties, a writer and teacher who comes to parenting relatively late and chooses to foster a child with a view to adoption. No surprise, her foster child is troubled and has been abused. Six-year-old Maresa is enchanting: a physically daring, rambunctious kid who likes to sing in her "opera voice" and has a generous heart. But she also screams “like a knife to your eardrum” and has endured unspeakable things. Howard spares no detail of the challenges of parenting a troubled child: the narrator and her husband Sebastian are artists on a tight budget, and becoming parents means they can afford precious little time to create. Sebastian has a heart condition and Maresa’s rages put pressure on his health. On top of this, the narrator and Sebastian must navigate the foster care system, find the right therapist and negotiate with clueless caseworkers. Howard makes an extraordinarily truthful inventory of the narrator’s feelings, which include doubt, regret, rage and despair. Because parenting is challenging no matter how you do it, this book isn’t just an examination of what it’s like to adopt a troubled kid, it’s also an investigation of motherhood itself. All of this may make this short, intense book sound like a challenging read, but the writing is so deft and extraordinary, that it’s utterly enthralling.
I received an advance copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.
THE RISK of us is an incredible book about parenting, adoptions, relationships, and the judgments and expectations society puts on everyone without any easy answers. The way the protagonist, the mother, navigated a world where there are no hard truths and even the expects weren't always right was so well done. You are with her for every moment of her difficult journey--all the doubts and baggage and hope and love and effort--you feel all of it.
The way the book gives no one, no matter how meaning an out and creates no real villains is much appreciated. Everyone tries to do what is best, behind their biases and their own needs (even the best intention-ed and least selfish). The grayness and complexity of all the minor characters is just so well done, as is the full and richness of the major ones. This book is most certainly a must read for this.
Real. Raw. Those are the first two words that come to mind. A uniquely but beautifully written story of a couple fostering a little girl with the intention of adopting her.
It's billed as fiction, but the narrator sure has a lot of similarities to the author--both have penned a memoir about their father's murder, both are married with a daughter through the foster system, similar faith system, residence--and it rings true. "She knows of which she speaks."
I enjoyed the unique writing style--the way she used the pronoun "you" to refer to her husband, then Maresa, back and forth. I wallowed in the characterization--I know these people. As an adoptive mother myself, I could relate to many of her thought processes and feelings. I saw the struggle with the people of "the system", trying to help, trying to act in the best interests of the child, yet somehow just making it all more difficult. I read of artistic ability, singing, athleticism, risk-seeking, letter reversals, mispronunciation of words, "catapulting from the peach sofas, babbling and singing, like a patient off her lithium" (80) and tried not to diagnose.
Most of all I relate to the growth of unconditional love, loving someone who is so different from you that you never could have imagined it, in spite of the risk. The risk to yourself, some days your own sanity, your marriage. . .in order for there to be an US.
--"I'm struggling with some aspects of her personality, I guess. She's loud, you know? Forceful. And. . .she doesn't really like to read" (48). --"Everyone is always bring Maresa gifts. The way you and I took gifts to the other girls in Maresa's old foster home, I suppose, hoping to brighten their day with some small kindness. Envisioning their deprivations. Wanting them to like us. Wanting to feel we were helping. I see now why Auntie seemed rather cool about our offerings" (68). -"I imagine an alternative online dating universe for foster kids and would-be parents. Interests: art-making, singing, reckless adrenaline-seeking" (74). --"If we don't carry on I wonder if I'll be honest: I chose my husband, my quiet life of garden and books" (97). --"Tammy Dillard was one of the fost-adopt parents. . .'It's much harder than we expected,' Tammy Dillard told me a year ago. Which I took, then, as another pat on the back" (153). --"She's a remarkable person. She's our daughter" (185).
***Thanks to NetGalley for providing me a complimentary copy of THE RISK OF US by Rachel Howard in exchange for my honest review.***
3.5 STARS
When Sebastian and his wife (who narrates and whose name we never learn) decide to adopt seven-year-old Maresa, they think the books they’ve read and classes they’ve taken have prepared them for the challenge. Maresa is more disturbed and her behavior more difficult than they could have imagined. Now, as adoption day draws nearer, they reconsider the commitment.
I interned in a foster to adopt agency and once considered adoption, even taking classes, before ultimately deciding as a single mom I may not be able to handle a child as disturbed as Maresa. Rachel Howard did a spectacular job with the details of Maresa’s likely reactive attachment disorder showing the push/pull of a child wanting and fearing attachment, projecting the pain of trauma and the testing whether her foster-to-adopt parents would accept her.
I had a lot of empathy for the narrator, who hadn’t overcome her own childhood trauma. She said the right things to be approved to adopt, but would have been better served if the social workers can recommended ongoing therapy.
Howard wrote in second person, which became confusing because she changed “you” from Sebastian to Maresa. I would have rated higher if THE RISK OF US had stuck to one you.
This dark, depressing book, was an enjoyable read for me, nonetheless. The ending of THE RISK OF US didn’t live up to the rest of the story for me. I can’t say more without spoiling it.
THE RISK IF US will make readers think about the bonds between family members in this realistic story about parents with all the love to give and a little girl who may be too wounded to accept that love.
This is an engaging story with an ending I wasn't a fan of and a writing style I find to be an utter disaster. If I broke it all down, I would have given the story a four, but the writing style was bringing my overall score down to a three, then the ending seemed underwhelming both because of its abruptness (character motivations seemed to jump too fast toward the end to get to the ending) and...possible mild spoilers until the end of this paragraph...how neatly everything wrapped up. The author even wrote in a comment toward the end saying that they new all the goodness couldn't last forever, but then another week and another, and it just felt like it ending where everything was perfect and there were no more issues.
The writing style was a huge issue for me. The author would jump back and forth in time without clearly delineating these jumps. It was bad enough that I often didn't know if the narrator was talking about her current husband or her previous husband when she was relaying a vignette. The story was told, I think, in a semi-linear fashion which was interspersed with memories or flashes to the future. There were also times where a story would be relayed, then a consequence would be stated for two months in the future, then the story would jump back to the original timeline. These instances were told in a way where I could tell if the consequences were actual consequences or what the narrator imagined was going to happen in the future, then we never saw if that was the way it actually played out. The author also decided to have two readers, both her husband and her foster daughter. She tries to justify this by talking about reading a poem that is written in this manner. It doesn't work. If you use the pronoun 'you' to reference two characters, you are forcing your readers to struggle in each instance to figure out who you are talking about. If a reader gets to a pronoun and can't determine who the pronoun is referencing, I think you have done a poor job writing. I don't want to get three sentences further into a paragraph to figure out the 'you' so that I can then re-structure the whole paragraph in my mind to fit with the 'you' that the author is referencing. Maybe this is a valid writing style, but it isn't a style I want to read, and like many non-traditional writing styles it just feels like the purpose is to be pompous and say "look what I can do". The narrator also uses a lot of nicknames in ways that I think detract from some of the characters. And in an effort to make the characters, especially the narrator herself, seem more real some issues are brought up like concerns about the health of the marriage that are abandoned/never address by the clean wrap up of the ending.
I will say, though, that because of the interesting subject matter and a writing style that I imagine would appeal to some people, of all the books I have ever given 2 stars, this is probably the one I would recommend most highly.
I was not expecting much going into this story. I am a social worker and I am pretty critical when it comes to stories around Foster Care and the Foster Care system. This is not an easy read, but I do think it is an important read.
This is a real and raw look into adoption and fostering children who have been effected by trauma. The author compares trauma and PTSD between a child in foster care and a soldier. It is a really eye opening statement. I can see why others will not like this, as it is a very taboo subject that we want to ignore. The reality is that our children are facing issues like Maresa everyday. Unfortunately, other children are not as lucky as Maresa to have patient and understanding adoptive parents to push through these chaotic, manic, and at times dangerous situations.
The story focuses more on Maresa and her family than the foster care system itself. I really appreciated that! It does still mention gaps and needs within the system including turnover and policy restrictions though. There were some positive and negative aspects when it came to the system itself.
I was not a huge fan of the ending. This is such a short read with only being less than 200 pages. I would have liked to see more of Maresa after adoption.
The one thing I wish the author would have left out was the political piece. It was a very small section of the story, but it was not needed. I wanted to recommend this book to our foster/adoptive parents, but won’t be able too since this small page of details was added. I am not saying the author does not have a right to her political opinion, I just wish it would not have been added to the story.
Overall, I still loved this and am going to recommend it to my fellow social worker friends.
This is the story of a couple’s struggle to adopt a foster child. It comes as no surprise that the child the narrator and her husband Sebastian choose to foster is a troubled child, Marisa. Having worked with such damaged children I fully understand the difficulties in handling such a child. There is no sentimentality here, just hard truths. The couple falls in love with the Maresa because she has a huge voice (her “opera voice”) and is an excellent artist, giving them—and her—some commonalities. She is also physically active and boisterous. Parenting is hard enough, but raising a troubled child is even harder, and Howard writes unflinchingly of these challenges. Sebastian and his wife are artists, and becoming parents affords them little time to be creative. Not only do adoptive parents have to care for the child, they must learn to navigate the arcane workings of the foster care system, find an appropriate therapist, and negotiate with clueless caseworkers who are promoting a book written by a man who has been shown to be unqualified. This book isn’t simply about adoption, it also looks at parenting itself and how a child can warp the structure of the most stable marriage. An excellent read.
This book was difficult for me at first - the terse words, their arrangement in short, stark groupings that often shifted in time and place. But then patterns emerged that for me had the power to elicit memories of my own family and childhood, all the good and terrible things borne out of love. The characters, nameless at first, revealed themselves - all their flaws, their foibles, their gifts on full display. Even the most minor characters - the blonde bimple therapist, the grey-crowned social worker, the surfer dude - were brought fully to life. A harrowing plot emerged. I had no idea how it would end, but I knew that I cared.
And I realized that the style used by Rachel Howard to tell this story, the one that had bothered me so at first, was what rendered The Risk of Us as a universal tale. It was the only way that such a heartfelt story could be told. By the time I reached that final quote from Little Miss Spider, I, like "Mommy," was awash in unexpected tears.
This is a tough story, but one I'm glad to have read.
The narrator and her husband Sebastian in their 40s/50s feel compelled to pursue adoption... and its really really hard with spots of hope. What I liked about this was how raw it was in terms of what the foster parents were going through and I didn't know till the very end whether this new family would make it or would it end in tragedy or some combination. Unlike a lot of books with abused foster children, this one focuses a lot more on the emotional roller coaster the parents experienced and the sometimes difficult interactions with the army of well meaning people trying to help.
The point of view was-different. The narrator is a memoirist who has published her own life story almost up to this point. You almost get the sense that these are her notes for a second memoir,but addressed in turns to her husband and foster daughter.
This book isn’t very long, but I took my sweet time reading it because I was so nervous it would have a touch of A Little Life and go into great horrifying detail of past child abuse. Thankfully, it does not and the book is better for it. Grappling with questions about if and how and when and how much to expand a family is something many readers can deeply relate to, and that struggle was always at the center of the story.
This is a wonderfully raw and emotionally moving account of what it is like to be a foster mother to a girl who has experienced abuse early in life. This young girl reminds me of so many students I worked with at the psych hospital- emotionally unstable and yearning for reconnecting with the birth mother. It is a brave look at an often ignored population. Well done.
This book, while fiction, both makes you want to consider adoption or fostering and simultaneously makes you shudder at the idea of adoption or fostering. That's just how well it's written. It captures the emotions and nuance of a difficult choice.
Finally, a book that gives a realistic, and hopeful, view of foster care and adoption and what it is like to attach for both the parents and traumatized child.
I don't believe it's saying it too strongly to say this was the best book I've read in a while. It was one of those that I made me want to clear my schedule and just sit and read, read, read.
First and foremost, the writing is lovely in this book. There will be some who are put off by its epistolary narration - it is different, and it does set a different tone. But I found it unique and almost voyeuristic - I was seeing this woman's feelings and experiences as she struggled with what to say to the young girl who could become her daughter.
But secondly, what impressed me the most about this book was its absolute honesty. The difficulty of growing close to a child with a horrific background, the desire to be a parent, but the fear of being a parent in this situation, and the feeling that some days, you just want to be yourself and not a parent were all here on the page. This is not a rainbow unicorn book about a family who chose to foster, then adopt. This is reality, and it was engrossing and shocking and delightful.
I can't say more about it. Read it. Especially if you can just sit down and read it straight through, because trust me, you're going to want to.
There is so much tied up in to this short little book. When a young childless couple, decides they are interested in adopting a child, they go through the foster care system. This book takes us through their decision making process of finding, nurturing and loving a child.Their ultimate goal is to make this child a permanent member of their family. This book often reads like a thriller, as all parties discover if this will be Marisas, forever home. This considered auto fiction, in that the author did in fact go through this process. Some facts are tue and others are not. Difficult to read at times but anyone who fosters a child should be commended, this is a calling of the highest level. Highly recommend.
I was initially drawn to this story because I truly have a heart for adoption/fostering. I've been waiting to read it for months after it first came out, until my library finally purchased it. The story itself is heavy stuff. It's not a "feel-good" sort of story, but it's authentic and true. It provides a true glimpse of what so many kids in the foster care system have gone through. The brokenness and utter human depravity many (most) of these these children experience before entering the system is heartbreaking to read. With that said, it's essential to understand the trauma and baggage these kids come with, and this book is an important voice in such a conversation.
This novel is a work of fiction, yet it explores the fundamental questions of unconditional love, forming attachments and bonds, and the choice of love when there's still an exit-plan in place (as it's the case during transitional periods before foster care adoptions are finalized). It also explains the strains that such a family dynamic can have on a marriage and extended family, and many of the flaws inherent in the system. If you are at all curious about a realistic portrait of begging a foster care parent/family, this is an important read for the sake of heartbreaking reality and inherent difficulty involved. The story is emotionally-gripping and will keep you on the edge of your seat as you follow.
As far as the writing itself is concerned, I feel that the novel's saving grace that kept me reading is the storyline and my own personal interest in the matter. The actual style of writing used by the author gave me a severe stress headache. The writing style was often confusing, written more as a "stream of consciousness" letter that changed recipients without warning (between the narrator's husband and foster daughter), who were both addressed as "you". Mind you, a book that is written as letters or diary entries has great potential to be successful, but this novel was not meant to be either. Furthermore, there was no clear timeline to follow throughout the story. All of this confusion made it hard for me to really connect or empathize with anyone in the story on a very deep level (although I definitely experienced compassion all around, it didn't develop beyond that into empathy). But as I said, the storyline itself was so gripping for me that i pushed through the clumsy writing style.
Story: 5 stars Writing: somewhere between 2.5 and 3 stars
My review is ultimately ranked as 4 stars above, because of the strength of the story itself, despite the clumsy, confusing writing style. If fostering/adoption is near to your heart in any way, I think the story itself makes this book a worthy read.
This book's cover is astonishingly apt for the story. It is a night full of stars and we can see that girl on the swing is in motion, and yet, we don't know if she will swing further forward or higher. Maybe, in the next second, she will just be drawn backwards by the momentum?
The Risk of Us shifts similarly between the tenderness and trauma of adopting a child. Both the mother and the child carry memories of violence, and that makes them both turn away and towards each other. We don't know the narrator's name but we regret her missteps, applaud her kindness and patience, and fear for her and her family on every other page. And yet, this is not a thriller. This is a quiet rumination, a journal-- a love-letter.
Many times, it wasn't even about the characters and their difficult backgrounds. Rachel's language is beautiful and precise, and sometimes, when she addresses her child or her husband as "you", you wonder why it feels like she is speaking to you. Even if you, like the one percent of people on earth, have a "normal" family, you'll see a mirror held up to yourself. What does family really mean? What does love mean? How far can these words take us when our struggles change from moment to moment?
The writer and the narrator of this story appear to blur into one another. As a reader, I sometimes thought such a heartfelt book could only have come out of real life. But as a writer, I know that sometimes fiction is more useful in telling the truth, in focusing the light. I'd recommend this book to anyone who is interested in deeply-felt memoirs. I'd also recommend it if you like literary fiction that draws blood from the vein and smears it across a glass slide.
By the end of the book, I began to wonder about that cover photo again. This time, I noticed the stars were all strangely golden. This time, I wondered if it was really a child on the swing -- maybe it was the mother, and she had sneaked out at night to a swing somewhere. The swing now seemed to be anchored up high -- too high-- but maybe, I told myself, the ride is a gentle one.
I had a hard time digesting this book. Granted that it is an expertly written and unflinching look at foster parenting, The Risk of Us is difficult to get into at first. Written from the unnamed foster mother’s stream-of-consciousness viewpoint, it is rife with gutter language that does nothing to assist the reader’s appreciation of what it takes to raise a traumatized child.
The narrator and her artist husband Sebastian want desperately to rescue a child from the quagmire of abandoned children. Abused by her birth parents, separated from her sister, seven-year-old Maresa is a morass of mood swings. Affectionate one moment, destructive the next, she revives the mother’s memories of her own miserable childhood. Complicating matters are the couple’s shaky financial foundation and Sebastian’s health issues.
A well-meaning tangle of social bureaucrats does little to help them. Being a foster parent is much like being on trial, with the child as the star witness when she doesn’t get what she wants. Just when the mother thinks there is hope for Maresa, she pulls the rug out from under them.
One can’t help admiring the narrator’s motives. Harboring guilt over her one-sided first marriage, she is determined to make both the second marriage and the parenting work. Describing how she fell in love with her artist husband, she says, “I liked the idea of raising a child with a man who made weird paintings of people with cities growing out of their heads.”
Thankfully, angels appear to give them hope, especially a teacher who understands angry children and provides support for them and their parents as well. Friends and relatives, if not always helpful, at least offer sympathy.
Rachel Howard is a gifted writer. Her subject matter is challenging and worthy of exploration. I just wish she had not polluted her work with the same offensive language pervading so much of today’s literature.
This was a short novel about a couple adopting a foster child. No names were given or used regularly, except occasionally for the father, and it reads like a journal written by the mother, documenting their journey through first the foster parent system and then the adoption process. The child, a girl of seven, has been separated from her older sister, her mother is in jail and her father is unknown. She has behavioral issues and PTSD from past physical and mental abuse and her new foster parents don't know how to identify what triggers her so they are constantly trying different things, some of which work and others that do not. Sort of like throwing spaghetti and the wall and seeing what sticks. They have a crisis where the police are called because they fear that she will harm herself or them, leading them to question their decision to adopt her. Part of them fears that these issues will snowball, leading to more serious and dangerous problems as she gets older, and the other part of them thinks that she is just testing them to see if they really will stay. They eventually decide to continue with the adoption process, but the book ends once she is adopted and I felt unsatisfied and wanted more, at least an epilogue of the girl's future after the adoption.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Stunning. Reserve judgement going into this at times difficult novel of a woman and her husband Seb who foster to adopt Maresa, a deeply damaged child. Written in some ways as a letter from the unnamed narrator to Maresa, who she refers to as Little One, it details what the couple hoped would be a wonderful experience but what was in fact a challenging, painful, and at times awful one. You can feel the narrator walking on eggshells when things are relatively calm and then kaploeey, they fall apart. I'd not read Howard's memoir and her personal background looms over this novel, which feels more like a memoir but not having read it is not an impediment to appreciating this one. Thanks to Netgalley for the ARC. Those of us who know someone who has struggled with an older adoptee will recognize much of what happens here. You will feel deeply for the narrator, Seb, and indeed for Maresa.
I am a foster mom currently in the process of adopting six little siblings. I don’t know if because of my situation that the subject matter is very relevant to me, or just because the writing is very compelling and well done, but I couldn’t put The Risk of Us down. So much of it seemed so real and relatable. None of my kids have had anywhere near the behaviors or abuse level the little girl in the story experienced, but there was so much in there that we or people we know have dealt with. I really felt for the couple wondering if they were doing the right thing and whether they could really commit to this particular little girl. The narrator was brutally honest even with her own failures. The writing style and choice to use second person was a bit unique and I think it was very effective. The book is relatively short and reads fast. Whether you are a foster-adopt family or not, I highly recommend The Risk of Us.
Rachel Howard’s THE RISK OF US is a difficult, but impossible to put down ,depiction of one couple’s heartrending journey through the challenging decision to adopt a young girl and the labyrinthian system they must negotiate to do so. Adept with language, structure, layering, and pace, Howard takes the reader on a breathtaking ride that never flinches in its authentic rendering of the difficulty of such a process or the challenges of overcoming and healing abuse. At the same time, she holds us in the awareness that no parenting comes with guarantees or without risks. And that all parenting is a commitment to love, however difficult. Short, intense, unflinching, this novel is a superb work of skill and of courage.
I am writing this review in response to having the privilege of reading a pre-publication Advanced Reader Copy.
The Risk of Us is hard to read—and almost impossible to put down. It relates the tale of three souls, each damaged in a different way and each hoping to heal by making a patched-together family. But, as Tolstoy has noted, the shoals are many when it comes to families. This trio has to deal with the ghosts of birth families, the foster-care system, and a host of therapists, social workers, and other sometimes helpful, sometimes hapless characters. What makes it possible for us to bear the heartache of their story is Rachel Howard's writing--intimate, sometimes sardonic, perfectly paced, and poetic in just the right places. We are carried along the river with mother, father, and unforgettable child. When redemption comes, we live it with them.
This was such a beautiful book and touched me deeply. I finished it yesterday, and I found myself thinking about it all day. I found it really uplifting and hopeful that love really can help overcome intense trauma. Just the love the family had for their adopted child was so beautiful. Not to mention that the book is beautifully written as well! Rachel Howard does things stylistically that are subtle yet powerful, from the interesting way she plays with the point of view, to the structure of the novel. I need to re-read it! The first time I picked it up, I pretty much rushed to finish it, and there are so many beautiful places I would love to revisit. Loved this book and highly recommend it!
This book stunned me. Rachel Howard's writing style blew me away; her simple snapshots of family life and its many devastating and blissful moments were entrancing. I read this book carefully for a week, and I was sad once I had reached the end for want of more. The first person narrative feels confessional and almost autobiographical, and despite this being a novel, I kept having the impression of reading the journal entries of a friend--truthful, raw, illuminating. In short, this is really great writing. You don't have to be a parent to be moved by this book. I anticipate reading more of Howard's work.
This story was captivating, I couldn't put the book #TheRiskofUs down. Although the subject matter was hard at times I kept reading. I felt like I was on a roller coaster, clicking slowly up one minute, racing down another. I found parts of myself in the story, the longing for family. The descriptions of the characters and their identifiers: the NRA sticker, the surfer-dude case worker, really helped me track each character. And when I thought the ride was over- I was sad. But then wait, one more uphill and great big downhill, one last opportunity to scream with delight and smile! Thank you @rachelahoward for this tough yet heartwarming book. #TheRiskofUs @rachelahoward