Memoir/Biography

Book Review: Strung Out by Erin Khar

By Tiffany Miller

Erin Khar’s memoir Strung Out: One Last Hit and Other Lies That Nearly Killed Me sucks you in from the very beginning.  Strung Out starts with Erin Khar’s son Atticus asking his mom “if she ever did drugs?”  A loaded question for someone who had been trapped in a cycle of addiction for years. Like any parent, Erin panics to find the words to answer her son’s question. But quickly she finds the courage to tell her son the truth of the perils of her personal drug use.  Not only because he is growing up and will eventually be able to read how his mother publicly and honestly writes and speaks about her own experiences, but also because she doesn’t want to shelter him from the truth that could potentially save his life. This book was appropriately dedicated to “all those who didn’t make it, who left too soon. You are missed. You are loved.” and from page one this book had my undivided attention.

I live in a town like many others that has seen a growing opioid epidemic. An epidemic that has killed more people over the pandemic than COVID-19 itself. As someone who experimented with drugs in my youth, I’ve always wondered what the fine line is between drug experimentation and those that get drawn into addiction. The truth is that there is no line, there are no rules, and everyone is susceptible.  As an adult I have seen it happen to many people and I know that anyone can fall victim, but it wasn’t something I could understand as a young person. When most people think of addiction, they imagine the marginalized, but the truth is addiction touches every corner of society and it affects a variety of people and families.

This book was vivid, eloquent, emotional, intellectually and philosophically engaging, and truthfully, I believe, a gift to humanity. There is something really special about seeing the world through someone else’s eyes.  I think it profoundly helps us as humans to connect, build empathy, and understanding.  I think it’s one of the primary things that draws me to books, connecting to other’s experiences, both real and fictional, and reading their thoughts and feelings as they navigate life’s ups and downs.

Erin Khar’s Strung Out captures you in her personal story of drug use, addiction, recovery, mental health issues, trauma, and unconditional family love. Erin’s family’s commitment to help her recover shows that there is always hope, that often people suffering from addiction are loved by someone, and that offering that supportive hand, whether it be the second, third, or fifteenth chance, could be the one that saves a life.

Thank you to Park Row Publishing for providing a complimentary copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.

Book Review: What My Bones Know by Stephanie Foo

By Meagan Stockwell

Stephanie Foo’s What My Bones Know: A Memoir of Healing from Complex Trauma is a powerful and deeply personal account of her journey towards healing from childhood trauma. The book offers an intimate glimpse into the author’s struggles with anxiety, depression, and complex post-traumatic stress disorder (CPTSD), and acts as a guide for others navigating the world of CPTSD.

One of the strengths of the book is its honesty and vulnerability. Foo doesn’t shy away from discussing the darkest aspects of her trauma, including physical abuse and neglect. She also candidly describes the ways in which her trauma has affected her relationships, career, and sense of self-worth. By sharing her story with such candour, Foo invites readers to reflect on their own experiences with trauma and to consider the ways in which they might also be struggling with the lasting effects of past wounds.

Another strength of the book is its emphasis on the importance of somatic healing. Foo writes about the ways in which trauma can become “stuck” in the body, leading to chronic pain, tension, and other physical symptoms. She also describes the various somatic practices that she has found helpful in releasing this trauma, such as yoga, dance, and meditation. Foo’s book leads others to discover a new sense of connection to their bodies and a deeper understanding of the ways in which our physical sensations are linked to our emotional and mental states.

The book is also notable for its nuanced approach to healing. Foo acknowledges that there is no one-size-fits-all solution to trauma and that each person’s journey towards healing will be unique. Foo set out to write the CPTSD book she didn’t have when she was first diagnosed. She emphasizes the importance of finding a therapist or healing modality that resonates with one’s individual needs and values, and she also acknowledges that healing is an ongoing process that may never be fully complete. This nuanced approach to healing is refreshing and empowering, as it encourages readers to take ownership of their own healing journeys and to seek out the support and resources that will best serve them.

Overall, What My Bones Know: A Memoir of Healing from Complex Trauma is a compelling and thought-provoking read that offers valuable insights into the often messy process of healing from trauma. Through her personal story, Foo inspires readers to confront their own traumas and to take the necessary steps towards healing and growth. The book is a testament to the power of vulnerability, self-reflection, and the human capacity for resilience and transformation.

 

Thank you, Penguin Random House Canada, for the complimentary copy in exchange for an honest review.

Book Review: Cooking Tips for Desperate Fishwives by Margot Fedoruk

By Christa Sampson

I love a good memoir, and I was intrigued by this one from the beginning because of the title. In this book, author Margot Fedoruk weaves the tale of her difficult upbringing with her life spent dedicated to a man whose heart is forever indebted to the sea—something that she initially loved about him, but also something that became the bane of her existence as she navigated motherhood.

Although she has lived on the west coast of Canada for most of her adult life, Margot was born and raised in Winnipeg, MB. Her parents divorced when she was very young, which led to a turbulent childhood trying to avoid her mother’s subsequent and equally deplorable partners. There was one stepfather figure that treated Margot and her sister well, but unfortunately that wasn’t the one that lasted the longest. She did, however, find solace in the homes of her grandparents, especially her grandmothers, both of whom she affectionately called “Baba,” per Ukrainian custom.  

As life at home became more toxic and heartbreaking, Fedoruk decided to remove herself from everything she’d ever known and move a considerable distance away. In one sense she reinvented herself, but on the other, her new experiences kept building on the strong character she always seems to have had. The relationship with her biological father was sporadic and strained at best, but she reconnected with him later in adulthood and was able to reconcile what happened in the past. Margot also maintained a very close and strong relationship with her younger sister to whom she was a surrogate mother basically from the time she was born.

While working as a tree planter in British Columbia, Fedoruk met Rick, who would eventually become her life partner. While there weren’t immediate romantic sparks, she describes being drawn to him in the same way he’s drawn to the sea. Although this is an extreme story of how to navigate a long-term, long distance relationship, this memoir really highlights the fact that every couple faces struggles. Some struggles may be difficult and some not so much, but at the end of the day, making it work one way or another is about making choices and acceptance.

I do like Fedoruk’s writing style. She has a unique way of bringing a topic into the narrative and weaving it back to something in her past. However, at the end of the book, I was a little disappointed. It left me feeling a bit wanting, and I felt like the story wrapped up too quickly. The ending didn’t reconcile the main points of the book for me, which is something I need as a reader to feel “complete” when finishing a book. Overall, I would still recommend this book, especially for the unique recipes at the end of every chapter. The recipes sound delicious, although I haven’t tried any yet, and for those who are into making things, Fedoruk even includes a recipe for natural soap, the product of her main entrepreneurial venture.

 

Thank you to Heritage House for the complimentary copy of Cooking Tips for Desperate Fishwives in exchange for an honest review!

Book Review: Welcome to the Jungle by Anneliese Lawton

By Christa Sampson

Welcome to the Jungle is one woman’s memoir of losing and then finding herself in motherhood, but it really speaks to many mother’s stories in these times and how modern living forces us to recalculate, recalibrate, and eventually remove ourselves from how society thinks we should mother. Described as “A frantic journey through motherhood and self-discovery,” this books takes the reader through all the life events that shaped the author into the person and mother she is today, and all the things she realized that she needed to let go of in order to be the best version of herself and the best mother for her family. That said, there is no “best” way, there are several, because each family and each child is uniquely different and the life events that shape you on your journey are not the same for everyone. That is, essentially, the premise of this book: it’s more of a “here is my story—this is what went down and what’s worked (or not) for me” than an “if you do what I did, you will be successful too” kind of narrative, and that is very refreshing.

I personally identified with a lot of what Anneliese talks about in her book. I, too, found myself lost in motherhood and I didn’t really find my way back to myself until about a year ago (my kids are 13 and 11). Yes, motherhood can really put you through the ringer because just when you think you’ve figured it out, something else will come up and it will call into question everything you thought you knew.

I’ve followed Anneliese, or Annie as she’s often known, on her social channels for a few years, so I was thrilled to hear that she was putting all of her stories into a book. Many of her blog posts on pregnancy and motherhood have been shared widely and one in particular on maternal mental health and postpartum care went viral. She is a true advocate in the mental health space and through a transparent account of her own lived experience with anxiety and postpartum depression, she aims to break down the stigma that still exists and the barriers to proper care a lot of people face.

In this real, nothing-is-off-limits memoir, Lawton calls bullshit (yes, she swears in the book, so if you’re not a fan of four-letter words like one online reviewer I came across, this book is probably not for you), on everything from society’s expectations, the stuff no one tells you about before baby arrives, and also what to expect after. There are of course those popular instructional “what to expect” books that were made into a movie, but they are not a nuanced account of the realities like this book is. If you want the real dirt on what it means to mother, this is it. No glossing over, no bullshit.

Welcome to the Jungle is organized into chapters but reads like a collection of essays. All are related in some way, but each one has its own arc and overriding lesson or anecdote. Some of the stories date back to Lawton’s formative years. One could argue that as a child you’re not even close to the person you’ll be when you start a family; however, when you start a family, you’re nowhere near the person you’ll become after going through the hard times, the highs, the lows, the OMFG can-this-day-get-any-worse type stuff. Every experience shapes us. Looking back on where you came from is a prompt for “where do I go from here.”

Lawton’s writing style is very conversational and pulls the reader in. She’s relatable. She doesn’t make excuses or try to cater to anyone specifically. It’s very “this is me, take it or leave it,” and I appreciate that. The mom space, whether it’s online, out in public, or within the comfort of your own home, is hard. Full stop. Sometimes all you need to get through the hard is knowing that there are others out there who see things for what they are—the beautiful messiness of it all—and provide support by sharing their experience rather than imposing a “fix.” Through this book and her online content, Anneliese Lawton does exactly that, and I’m here for it. 10/10 recommend.

 

Thank you to Pandamonium Publishing for the complimentary copy of Welcome to the Jungle in exchange for an honest review!

Book Review: Tracking the Caribou Queen by Margaret Macpherson

By Lauren Bell

Tracking the Caribou Queen is Margaret Macpherson’s memoir of her settler childhood, in which she does the minimum of what every settler in Canada should be doing: coming to terms with our privilege and acknowledging our complicity in the colonialism and microaggressions that shape Canadian society today.

Macpherson’s childhood was spent in Yellowknife amongst her siblings and family, with much of her social interactions being tinted with their “otherness” from the individuals around them. She grew up painfully close to the colonialism of the North; her father was the principal of a local residential school. Now, as an adult, Macpherson is painfully aware of the discrimination that happened around her and looks back at her memories with a critical eye. That being said, I found that her analysis lacked a certain depth. For example, she would finish a narrative recount by asking, “Why? Why did I do this? Why did I think this?” yet never spent time exploring possible reasons to answer those questions, seeming resolved to stay in the ambiguity of it all.

Tracking the Caribou Queen started as a personal reconciliation project for Macpherson, as acknowledged in her author’s note. I think readers must be aware of this to ensure their expectations for this book. For instance, Tracking the Caribou Queen provides limited cultural and historical context for the events in the book; this is effective, as she is writing from the perspective of a child who wouldn’t be well versed in that information, however it may not meet the needs of a reader hoping for something more educative on the policies and colonial context that occurred in the North. This book is much more suited to someone looking for one personal perspective of life in Yellowknife in the 1960s–1970s.

I would have also liked to see some more character development for the individuals in her story. Despite seeing significant characters multiple times, I feel like they’re quite flat, and that I can’t attribute many traits to them. Colonialism and systemic racism, two major themes in the novel, are layered concepts and it would have been nice to see that reflected.

The part of the book that I was most pleased with was the ending. Macpherson finishes with public school and is finally able to acknowledge the biases she encountered and her privilege growing up, and she is beginning to make amends with this. Moreover, the theme of the final chapter seemed to include the importance of being in the moment, something that Macpherson struggled with throughout the memoir. Most importantly, it let the memoir conclude neatly, but not perfectly, reflecting the reality of settlerhood, and the long way still needed to go to reach true reconciliation.

 

Thank you to NeWest Press for the complimentary copy in exchange for an honest review.

Book Review: Making a Scene by Constance Wu

By Lauren Bell

If you’re like me, you’ll recognize Constance Wu from the movies Crazy Rich Asians (2018) and Hustlers (2019), but you may also recognize her from the sitcom Fresh Off the Boat (2015–2020). Making a Scene is her memoir in essays about her life; from growing up in Richmond, Virginia to discovering community theatre and “making it” in Hollywood. That is the synopsis on the back of the book—however, after reading the book (or to be more honest, even just from reading the introduction), I have come to reject that description. On the whole, it is much too surface level of a depiction, especially when the point of Wu’s book is to “make a scene” or make meaning out of her experiences—regardless of how ordinary or mundane they may seem on the outside.

As the summary describes, the title comes from Wu being told “good girls don’t make scenes” growing up, but also from a time when she wanted to give her unnamed character (“Girl”) her own story. I believe this is what Wu wanted to do with her essays—name the background individuals, give them histories, and find themes in the beginning, middle, and end of her essays. Because of this, you don’t mind reading about the mundane and ordinary things in life because Wu writes them to have significance.

Her essays are not told in chronological order, nor are they placed by significance, but rather as to reveal another trait or layer to herself: passionate, hardworking, stubborn. Some of the essays I particularly enjoyed were “Montana Gold,” where she describes working in a bread bakery, And “Of Course She Did,” about a traumatizing elementary teacher she had.

I picked this book to read not as a superfan but as someone who enjoys reading memoirs, and curious about the actress that starred in two movies that I enjoyed. Moreover, I was also interested in her perspective on being an actress in a whitewashed industry and in the #MeToo era. She discusses this in the essay “Jurassic Park,” where she uses an analogy to the T. rex to explain the mix of emotions she felt toward her cultural identity from working on Fresh Off the Boat. “Do As I Say” is probably the other most important essay on her career, because this is where she describes the series of events (instances that readers may already be aware of) that pushed her into choosing to step out of the limelight and prioritize her needs by seeking handpicked roles over publicity-based ones. My respect for Wu sincerely grew after reading that essay and her unheard media narrative, not only for the bravery it takes to put her peace first but also for rejecting the media’s perception of being a successful actress, and truly dedicating herself to her art. What I have also come to admire about Wu is her unwavering ability to hold herself accountable for her actions, whether they be from serious mistakes (e.g., her cruel relationship to her younger sister), or less scarring ones (e.g., writing “penis” all over the set of Fresh Off the Boat).

I would recommend Making a Scene to readers like myself, vaguely aware of Wu and curious about her life, but also superfans, or individuals who haven’t heard of her at all. I think each reader would come out with something different, but still feel the underlying theme: that we are all complex, multifaceted individuals that shouldn’t be held hostage to one image of us.

 

Thank you to Simon & Schuster Canada for the complimentary copy in exchange for an honest review.

Book Review: Laughing with the Trickster by Tomson Highway

By Carmen Lebar

Content warning: physical abuse

Laughing with the Trickster by Tomson Highway is a collection of essays from his CBC Massey Lecture series. This collection is based on five topics: Language, Creation, Humour, Sex and Gender, and Death. Highway explores Indigenous perspectives of each of these topics comparatively to polytheistic and monotheistic mythologies. A prolific storyteller in fiction and theatre, Highway now shows off his nonfiction writing that borrows from his brilliant storytelling. This book is funny, innovative, and will capture your attention from the very beginning. I enjoyed reading every word, sentence, and page of this collection. I particularly think Laughing with the Trickster excels in its use of storytelling and playful teaching.

Within each and every essay Highway writes in this collection, there is always beautiful storytelling interwoven to his arguments. These stories range from personal anecdotes to stories within Cree mythology. Some stories lean towards humour, while others lean towards a more serious tone. These stories are accessible, entertaining, and educational when juxtaposed with Highway’s arguments. In his essay “On Language,” he mentions how his father learned four different languages, and positions that next to the fact that hundreds of Indigenous languages and mythologies have been lost—demonstrating the importance of preserving languages. Weaving together nonfiction writing, personal essays, and storytelling, Highway creates a captivating and inspiring collection of essays that is both knowledgeable and playful.

The historical and mythological facts that are presented in this book are never delivered in a dull or pretentious manner. Highway invites his audience to fully engage in what he is saying, and actively writes to teach them new things. He is having fun teaching, and he allows readers of this book to have fun with him and easily access the information he provides. Not only is it fun, but there are many hilarious points in his collection—especially when discussing the Trickster. Like the title suggests, the Trickster is an entity that is here to make us laugh. Highway shows the parallels of Tricksters in Indigenous mythologies (like Nanabush) and pop culture (like Lucille Ball and Bugs Bunny). As with the storytelling he provides in each essay, there are many humorous things that occur that make reading his work engaging. This collection is short, but Highway’s playfulness allows for an attentive and captivating experience throughout the entire book.

I highly recommend Laughing with the Trickster for anyone who wants to read more nonfiction by Indigenous authors, and who wants to expand their knowledge on the above mentioned topics. It’s a fun and easy read that will make you realize how many mythologies share similarities. I learned a lot of new things about Indigenous mythologies, but also a lot about Greek and Christian mythologies as well. Highway also graciously compiles a list of sources for readers of this book to expand on topics he mentions in his lectures. (It’s a great list for further reading!) If you’re familiar with Highway’s other works, you will love this essay collection. And if you’re new to Highway, I am certain you will be absorbed by his great storytelling and impeccable writing.

Thank you to House of Anansi for sending a complimentary copy in exchange for an honest review.

Book Review: Our Voice of Fire by Brandi Morin

By Carly Smith

Content warning: rape, child abuse, racism, suicide, pregnancy loss

Our Voice of Fire documents the life of Brandi Morin, Indigenous journalist and Indigenous rights advocate. This memoir takes readers through a roller coaster of a journey that is Morin’s childhood and adulthood. Morin recalls experiences both heroic and horrific, stories that move you deep in your soul, which make you feel like you’re right there next to her as these events happen. She shares stories of an unstable home life as a child and precarious living situations as an adolescent. She recalls experiences of physical and emotional agony from rape, substance use, psychosis, and attachment issues. She also recalls bouts of triumph with the birth of her children, her constant progress with her mental health, and her successful career in journalism. Beautifully braided into each of her memories is a necessary reminder that the trauma endured by Indigenous peoples as a result of Canada’s actions and inactions is not extinct but is still very much alive and patiently awaiting healing.

Throughout the hardships and traumatic circumstances that Morin chronicles, readers gain insight into her resilience and her profound strength that is endless, albeit at times difficult to locate. Continuously rebounding and reinventing herself after each and every heart-wrenching injustice or poor call of judgment is beautiful, hopeful, and a testament to her determination.

Morin’s writing is very satisfying. It’s as if she is answering questions in an interview and has prepared the ideas for her responses but not the responses themselves. She writes eloquently yet conversationally, creating a comfortable atmosphere between the pages. She juxtaposes heavy topics with easy reading and the combination is addicting. Chapters are not too long, so the book can easily be paused if the content becomes too loaded. It’s the type of read that is timeless; rereading it in ten years will still tug at heartstrings as much as the first time.

Cathartic and evocative, Our Voice of Fire is a beautiful memoir that needs to be accessible to all Canadian adults. This book is not just for the oppressed, it is for all adults, including, and maybe especially, those who think they’ve had their fill of or don’t need any more Indigenous content on their coffee tables. This book is not just a memoir, it’s a wake-up call to Canada’s settlers and the politically indifferent.

 

Thank you to House of Anansi for a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.

Book Review: Finding the Mother Tree by Suzanne Simard

By Shantell Powell

Suzanne Simard is the world’s leading forest ecologist, and Finding the Mother Tree is part memoir and part scientific investigation of forests as living organisms. This is her debut book, and it is a New York Times bestseller. It tracks her life growing up in the logging industry of British Columbia and her studies into what makes forests tick. 

I grew up in the same forests, and reading this book was of particular interest to me. Simard and I both lived in the same rural and remote areas, so when she describes particular regions, it fills me with corresponding memories. She was a 20-something forestry worker, and I was the pre-teen daughter of a man who worked in the forestry industry. Like her, I travelled all around British Columbia, from the towering rain forests of Vancouver Island to dense evergreens of the high Rockies to the arid pines of the Okanagan Valley. We both lived, worked, and played out in the bush. We both foraged and evaded grizzly bears. When she writes of the desolation of clearcuts, and how they look like battlefields, I too am taken back to these sylvan sites of mass murder, where traditional foods and medicines of Indigenous peoples and animals alike have been stricken from existence. When she writes about spraying glyphosate on healthy forests to kill “weeds,” tears prickle my eyes as forests and habitats die. I find it very easy to empathize with her experiences.

Finding the Mother Tree is also a type of mystery story. Why do some seedlings thrive and others wither away? Do regimented monocultures grow cash crop trees more prodigiously than the messy, hard-to-harvest natural forests? Does killing off competing plants let economically valuable trees grow better? Simard writes of her scientific experimentation done in order to learn how forests thrive. She writes of how plants and fungi have evolved to form symbiotic relationships, how humus and mycorrhizal fungi are vital for forest health, and she does so in an engaging manner. You do not need to have a background in forestry or biology to be swept away by this engaging book.

Forests have an intelligence all their own and co-operate and compete with one another. Like humans, forests learn and adapt, and can recognize their neighbours. Finding the Mother Tree demonstrates the spirituality of scientific investigation and shows that there is more to science than quantitative measurements. Finding the Mother Tree also shows what it is like to be a woman in a male-dominated field and is a David and Goliath-type story where she confronts rooms full of foresters to tell them their methodology is deeply flawed.

Finding the Mother Tree will appeal to readers of Braiding Sweetgrass by Robin Wall Kimmerer, The Hidden Life of Trees by Peter Wohlleben, and Underland by Robert Macfarlane.

I love this book and will be returning to it again and again.

 

Thank you, Penguin Random House, for a complimentary copy in exchange for an honest review.

Book Review: Up the Coast by Kathryn Willcock

By Fayth Simmons

In Up The Coast, author Kathryn Willcock takes a deep dive into the complex and illustrious chapters of her childhood, spent in logging camps off of the rural BC coast. With emotive prose and clear narration, Willcock describes a rugged and wild existence, and highlights the trials and tribulations of everyday life in Orford Bay and beyond. Set within a land of unparalleled natural beauty, the logging camps provided a home base for Willcock’s family and all of the loggers. Such beauty, however, came at the cost of isolation and sometimes danger—with grizzlies as close neighbours, almost consistent financial strain, and challenging weather patterns, there was no shortage of challenges to the logging lifestyle, and many obstacles stood in the way of company success. Through Willcock’s gaze, however, and her remembrance of childhood, the reader is able to see through the challenges of such a life to the equal doses of joy and freedom that it provided.

The novel presents as being almost autobiographical in nature, with Willcock providing historically accurate depictions of life in Orford Bay, and her family’s journey to arrive there. The narration allows the reader to be carried smoothly through the novel, and at just over 200 pages, it is a fairly fast read and accessible to a wide variety of readers. Witty observations are accompanied by doses of harsh realism, though the overriding tone is one of warmth and authenticity. Willcock successfully condenses vivid landscapes into her writing, and each character holds equivalent depths of layered emotion. At its core, this is a novel about family, and the resilience required to etch out an alternative life amidst the sometimes unforgiving elements of the BC wilderness. Willcock’s capacity for storytelling shines through, and her thoughtful approach has resulted in a novel that is both eye-opening and enjoyable.

 

Thank you to NeWest Press for the complimentary copy in exchange for an honest review.

Book Review: 17 Carnations by Andrew Morton

By Sara Hailstone

Famed celebrity biographer, Andrew Morton, meticulously takes on the wartime life events of Edward VIII and broaches the politically concealed controversies of the royal’s interactions with Hitler and the subsequent cover-up of this uncomfortable chapter of British Royal history with Churchill, the monarchy, and Eisenhower afterwards. Laden with psychoanalytic and historiographical methodology of deconstruction, Morton digs through the topographical workings of a man born into royalty not fully embracing the bloodline and a figure associated with a dangerous political web of power dynamics, anti-Semitism, and defiance. Morton laid the foundation for groundbreaking biographies by revealing the secret world of Princess Diana, expectations of liberating narrative with 17 Carnations, in my opinion, does not illuminate a layer of storyline as ‘the biggest cover-up in history’ or seem fully shocking, or surprising in all facets of a leader and their association with Nazism.

Morton lays the groundwork in understanding how a member of the royal family could conceivably have been roped in by Hitler’s schemes, but the slow-winded unravelling of discussion around ‘The Windsor File,’ and subsequent cover-up, seems folded carefully back into a narrative of control by the crown in keeping one of its members ‘in-check.’ European leaders viewed the Nazi State as modern, and Morton places Edward with his peers: “As for the so-called Jewish question, the prince was, like many of his class; instinctively anti-Semitic—Buckingham Palace did not employ Jews or Catholics in positions of any prominence in the Royal Household until well into Queen Elizabeth Il's reign.” Edward VIII was essentially ‘excommunicated’ to the Bahamas and stripped of his title. The duke’s polemic, as identified by Morton, was to reinstate himself and his scorned American wife, Mrs. Simpson, on the throne. In doing so, the negotiations with Hitler could be a power move.

The title of the text, 17 Carnations, is a reference to a rumour of the number of times Mrs. Simpson and a Nazi diplomat, Joachim von Ribbentrop, were thought to have been intimate. The story is merely gossip, which signifies to me the overall tone of the text as tabloid enmeshed with heavy chronology and historical detail. However, I would have liked to come away from the novel feeling confident about the contents of the cryptic Windsor File that was central in a top-down cover-up by Churchill and Eisenhower.

“The Windsor file exposed that man, his faults, his frailties, and his petty indulgences. He may have been blackballed from the club, but he was once a member of a very exclusive guild of kings and sovereigns without a throne.” Aligning stances like this with citations from the primary document would help transform the text from being a celebrity narrative. Despite the release of the Windsor File in 1957, the duke denied its contents. His story is neatly fitted into a narrative of control and the risk of an almost slip in history when a monarch collaborated with ‘the enemy.’ I do not think Edward VIII’s engagement with Hitler was the biggest cover-up in history. There are far more dangerous and orchestrated cover-ups left undetected, far higher-up organizations, political and economic bodies that likely worked with the Nazi State yet to be fully realized in current imagination. The Vatican, for one, would be a subject that would be ‘the biggest cover-up in history’ by working with Hitler and National Socialism.

 

Thank you to Grand Central Publishing and Andrew Morton for the complimentary copy in exchange for an honest review!  

Book Review: The Ghosts That Haunt Me by Steve Ryan

By Carly Smith

Content warning: sexual assault, murder, suicide, domestic abuse, child abuse, blood

In The Ghosts that Haunt Me, Steve Ryan, a former homicide detective in Toronto, Ontario, recounts the cases he worked on that have had the most profound effect on both his career and personal life. Ryan takes readers through a series of investigations that happened as a result of brutal, merciless murders. His stories include sordid details surrounding spousal abuse, child neglect, relationship troubles, and remarkable loneliness. Neither the murderers nor the victims fit one particular demographic or description, but although the accounts of these crimes differ greatly, there is nonetheless a sense of connection between each story.

The book begins with a forward by Joe Warmington, a reporter and columnist for the Toronto Sun. After this, and before Ryan delves into his homicide stories, he briefly explains his youth and family life, the reasons he entered the police force, and the beginning of his career. His writing is very readable; it is not overflowing with jargon and is personal yet professional. He offers his perspective on each case as a father, partner, community member, and also as a detective. This creates an element of back-and-forth that will have readers analyzing the stories both subjectively and objectively. Readers need not be seasoned true crime enthusiasts or detectives to follow along. The stories are just the right length, capturing the circumstances of each murder from beginning to end concisely and with great suspense.

This book is a great read for new and experienced true crime readers alike. I caution that the stories can be very gruesome and heart-wrenching, and suggest that the trigger warnings not be considered flippantly. I particularly enjoyed this book as an Ontarian living only several hours from the crime scenes; it was exciting to recall these events as news stories back when they happened, check out the crime scene locations on a map to learn that I had once been so close by, and converse with others who remember these stories as I read on. The Ghosts that Haunt Me can be a story-a-day type of read, a binge book, or for picking up whenever you have a few moments. However you choose to read this book, the ghosts that haunt Steve Ryan will quickly become ghosts that haunt you, too.

Thank you to Dundurn Press for the complimentary copy in exchange for an honest review.

Book Review: Good Mom On Paper edited by Stacey May Fowles and Jen Sookfong Lee

By Christa Sampson

It is said time and again that writers should “write the book they want (or need) to read.” That is precisely what editors Stacey May Fowles and Jen Sookfong Lee set out to do with Good Mom on Paper. Both writers and mothers themselves, Fowles and Lee became frustrated with the publishing and creative landscape with respect to the lack of support and understanding of mothers, and the experience of trying to make art in the midst of motherhood. They put together an anthology of essays by a diverse group of Canadian writers, highlighting the push and pull of writing while mothering. Each writer’s life experience and writing style is different, but the common theme throughout all of their stories is the struggle to find, maintain, and nurture a creative life, while at the same time nurture and raise a family. 

As a writer and mother myself I was eager to read this book, and my expectations were exceeded. Some of the essays broke my heart. Some of them made me smile. Some of them gave me hope that there is a way to forge a path in this space. Some of the writing I’ve done I wouldn’t have been able to do without being a mother; other times I feel that the pressure of family life stifles my creativity. This is a book I could have used at the beginning of motherhood, and I would highly recommend it to anyone who is at that point right now. Even mothers who aren’t writers or creators would benefit from reading this book, because we all lose a sense of ourselves when we become mothers. Sometimes the possibility of getting that pre-mom self back isn’t possible, and maybe it shouldn’t be, but you can still find yourself within the role of motherhood. They don’t have to be separate and can even complement each other.    

All of the essays in this anthology captivated me. The stories that really stood out to me, or rather the ones I could most relate to are:

“Dog Rescue Romance Novels and Other Survival Tools” by Jennifer Whiteford, in which she discovers the joy of reading romance novels while trying to get pregnant. After becoming a mother and not finding the ability to write in the manner she was used to, Whiteford continues reading romance novel after romance novel, until she writes one herself. This piece highlights the fact that mothers and society often brush off the emotional labour of mothering as “no big deal,” similar to how novels in this genre are often dubbed “just a romance novel.”

“What Have You Done Today?” By Kellee Ngan, about finding the small moments to write and recognizing that all of the small moments eventually add up to something bigger.

“Tantrum Series” by Teresa Wong, about letting go of the perpetual mom guilt and realizing that in the midst of motherhood, what you create may not be “good” but the act of creating, whatever the result, is progress and feeds your desire to create.

 

Thank you to Book*hug Press for the complimentary copy of Good Mom on Paper in exchange for an honest review!

Book Review: The Shaytan Bride by Sumaiya Matin

By Sara Hailstone

Content warning: domestic violence, racism, kidnapping

 

         The Shaytan Bride: A Bangladeshi Canadian Memoir of Desire and Faith is memoir that lyrically follows the courageous self-actualization and fight for her life by Sumaiya Matin, who was essentially held hostage by her family during a trip to Bangladesh and pushed into the prospect of an arranged marriage. Matin resisted the marriage and was helped by the High Commission of Canada to return to Toronto alone. She pursued writing and social work. She is now a part-time psychotherapist and strategic advisor for the Ontario government.

           Matin moved from Dhaka to Ontario when she was six years old, and records with literary eloquence what life was like growing up in Toronto in a post 9/11 discriminatory society. She fell in love with a young man outside of her society and Muslim faith, and she traces the pains of the heart in her adolescence as she navigates the rigid ideological currents of how and who she was supposed to be as a woman within her culture. This young love later advocated for Matin and petitioned her case to the High Commission of Canada.

         Matin expertly crafts the concepts of the jinn and the Shaytan Bride throughout the narrative. In Matin’s world, the woman is afflicted by jinn—demons—and is therefore used up, unable to be folded neatly into society. But Matin brilliantly identifies freedom for women in these wretched states:

Yes, I imagined the Shaytan Bride as forewarning, but not as terrorized by the bad jinns, the sorcerers, her human or non-human lovers, or even the Shaytan, like they said. She moved freely and in ways most others didn’t because they weren’t sure how, or they were afraid, or such freedom of movement existed entirely outside the spectrum of their imaginations.  

She knew, in her own life, the cautionary lesson of the Shaytan Bride was to avoid becoming one. There is no redemption for a woman in love with or touched by a jinn. Obey. Do not become the Shaytan Bride.

        This memoir is important for women. Matin works through the reality of the historical wars waged on women’s bodies. “By them I imagined the bodies of women raped, abandoned, and killed, corpses covered in rotten filth. Their bodies washed over with the echoes of voices of both strangers and kin. It was always the women who got the brunt of it, their bodies the battleground for all the sins.”

Considering the gravity of the adversity that Matin stood against and wrote through, and the mastery of her narrative, The Shaytan Bride should be eligible for awards. The memoir is that well written. It flows with a natural literary voice and has a powerful message for women: that story can shape the trajectory of a life, a life worth protecting and nurturing. Matin honours her inner truth again and again throughout the memoir.

Matin also shows layers of Canadian society that are important for Canadians to face now in turbulent times: our colonized bedrock exposes and isolates vulnerable members of society. Imagine returning from being kidnapped and almost forced into an arranged marriage and not being able to make that reality understood to an academic institution that requires one to pay the full tuition during the missed time. She gracefully and subtly shows the barriers within our country’s infrastructure, which permeate academia, government, and healthcare.

I see the full value of this text in the extension of the life Sumaiya Matin has carved out beyond the page. Her story is not over, she is just beginning. I recommend you follow her on social media to witness the flourishing of The Shaytan Bride as a novel that will most likely contribute to the canon of Canadian literature.

 

Follow Sumaiya here: @sumaiya.matin

Thank you to Dundurn Press for the complimentary copy in exchange for an honest review!

Book Review: Deadly Triangle by Susan Goldenberg

By Erica Wiggins

Content warnings: murder, suicide

Deadly Triangle tells the story of the 1935 murder of world-famous architect Francis Mawson Rattenbury and the arrest and trial of his younger wife Alma and George Percy Stoner, the family’s chauffeur and her lover. Written by Susan Goldenberg, an award-winning author who writes for magazines and newspapers and currently resides in Toronto. This story called to me with its Canadian link as the victim designed the iconic Parliament Building and Empress Hotel in Victoria, British Columbia. I love a well-laid-out and researched true crime story and this did not disappoint. The cover of this book draws you, and once I read the synopsis, I was hooked.

The story begins with a quick snippet of the murder and then we move back in time to be introduced to our main characters—first Francis, then Alma—then how they connected and moved to their beautiful home. Finally, our last main character, George, the new chauffeur, enters the story. Goldenberg has a way of writing that makes you feel like you are reading a fictional story. She immerses you in the story. You enter the daily lives of the characters. I was enthralled by the story of multiple marriages, divorces, scandals, and adultery that was present in the early 1900s. It was a reminder that people from that era and present day still have the same issues.

The author includes photos throughout the story that helped further draw you into the story and connect you with the people and places at the time.

After Francis’ death and Alma and George’s arrest, the trial in England begins. It is quite the event with people lining up to get a seat in the courthouse. I felt that instant connection with these attendees, wanting to learn the details of the story. Goldenberg covers the trial in a detailed, easy-to-read format. I found myself unable to put the story down at this point. I really enjoyed the snippets of transcript included.

This story is captivating. The parallels between life then and now is unnerving. The author does a phenomenal job of structuring the story to make accessible. True crime stories can sometimes be overwhelming in detail, but this was a perfect blend of information, court records, and photos. I especially loved learning how each person got to this pivotal moment in time.

If you can’t tell, I love reading true crime. Historical true crime has always held a special interest to me. Comparing what led up to the murder, how it was investigated, and how justice was served back then and what this might look like today. This story is a perfect example of how a well-researched and thorough story can be brought to life by a talented author.

I loved this book! I would highly recommend it to anyone who enjoys true crime. I would also recommend it to those who aren’t sure about true crime and want to dip in their toes. As the murder occurred in 1935, there is some distance from the story, and it is more focused on the people and less on providing graphic details.

 

Deadly Triangle is available October 2022. Thank you Dundurn Press for the complimentary copy in exchange for an honest review.

Book Review: Freezing Order by Bill Browder

By Carly Smith

Freezing Order details the many events—some incredibly surprising and others unfortunately not—in author Bill Browder’s life in relation to tax fraud and money laundering rooted in Russia. The book begins with a recap of Browder’s previous book, Red Notice. Browder’s lawyer, Sergei Magnitsky, was beaten to death in a Russian prison. Magnitsky had been investigating tax fraud and money laundering committed by Russian officials, and Putin did not like this at all. As Freezing Order continues, Browder chronicles the ups and downs of working hard to pass the Magnitsky Act, which bans government officials who take part in human rights offences from entering the United States and freezes their assets. Not thinking this is enough, Browder turns to the European Union in hopes of grasping their interest and having the Act passed in EU nations as well. What follows is chaos, including, but not limited to, working with a judge who doesn’t seem to have all his capacities, an attempt of a honey trap on Browder in Monaco, poisonings of his acquaintances, and unexplained passport hiccups.

Browder writes the book like he speaks, which is not to say that the book is filled with colloquial language and casual syntax or grammar. Browder is a smart, well-educated man, and his vocabulary supports this. While he works hard to ensure that readers understand his anecdotes, he does not avoid legal, business, and financial jargon. Photos are periodically included, as well as footnotes, but the story nevertheless can be convoluted at times. This isn’t attributable to poor writing; the story itself is tricky to follow and confusing no matter how it’s presented.

I found myself rereading paragraphs, dog-earring important pages for reference, and making side notes, but this did not take away from my enjoyment of the book. I would have appreciated a glossary and an index and often wished that I could turn to the back of the book and find a page of the names, faces, and most important details of the people Browder writes about. Fortunately, the hard copy offers several blank pages at the back, perfect for jotting down the most important bits.

Unbelievable, jarring, and at times spooky, Freezing Order unveils the power that Putin’s Russia has on the rest of the world. The book’s stories left me with conflicting feelings—cynicism and hope, relief and angst, and frustration, and satisfaction. I felt pulled in many different directions and looked forward to the glimmers of humour that Browder included. Freezing Order is the right book to pick up and delve into when you have  sufficient time and mental energy. You won’t regret having read it.

Thank you to Simon and Schuster for a copy of the book in exchange for an honest review.

Book Review: The Castleton Massacre by Sharon Anne Cook and Margaret Carson

By Erica Wiggins

Content warning: femicide, abuse, domestic violence, stalking

The Castleton Massacre tells the story of the massacre committed by Robert Killins in Ontario, Canada. Robert Killins was a well-educated man working as a minister and went on to kill every woman in his family but one on a night in 1963. Sharon Anne Cook is a university professor and the author/editor of twelve books on Canadian women’s history. Her father is Robert Killins’ brother. Margaret Carson is a retired college instructor and the only female to survive the massacre.

I have always been drawn to true crime books. My pull towards these books was the “why.” Why did this happen, why did they do it—does their brain work differently? The Castleton Massacre caught my attention because I had never heard of it and live only about 4 hours from where it happened and it’s written by family members also trying to make sense of “why.”

“Dad and I are flying to Ontario today to be with your cousins, Peggy and Brian. We anticipate being back in about ten days, but we will call you long-distance when we know more. A terrible thing has happened. Your Uncle Bob has murdered his family, Florence, Gladys, Pearl and little Patsy.”

The authors took the time to carefully research and interview those touched by this story and compiled the information into a succinct timeline. They began with Robert’s family in the 1900s and moved through the years. They carefully included illustrations that help to clarify the details and create a personal connection to this family.

Reviewing true crime stories can be challenging, as the details are generally well known. In this story, the authors use this tragedy to shine a light on how women were treated at the time and how they are still treated. Killens was abusive to this family, verbally, and physically. His wife, Florence, left him and was unable to divorce him. She moved across the country and Robert followed. When she moved in with her new partner, he would build shacks near where they lived to keep an eye on the family. Florence stated on multiple occasions that she was scared for her life. Reading the progressively erratic behaviour that Robert exhibited was terrifying. You can see it escalating, and it is unfathomable that this behaviour was acceptable. Even after the massacre, he was highly spoken of, and it was suggested that Florence “brought it on” by living with a new partner. It was eye-opening, distressing, and heartbreaking to read the account of how these women lived and died.

The statistics in this book are horrifying, and it is a difficult read. I would set it down only to be drawn back in with the hope that my question of “why” would be answered. I felt more of a personal connection to this story, as it came from a survivor and family member of Killens. In telling their story, they shed light on domestic violence, stalking and the lack of resources, especially in rural communities. This is such an important topic and caused me to pause and reflect. I don’t want to say that I enjoyed this book, as this topic is so challenging, but I am coming out better informed and aware of changes that still need to be made. I would highly recommend this book to anyone who enjoys reading true crime.

One final note, while this story is incredibly shocking, I found hope that the two young survivors were taken in by a stable family and able to be supported in adulthood. While this night will never be forgotten, there is a light in them reflecting and creating this book.

 

Thank you, Dundurn Press, for the complimentary copy in exchange for an honest review.

Book Review: Coming Undone by Terri White

By Christa Sampson

Content warning: addiction, self harm, child physical and sexual abuse, suicidal ideation

Terri White is a writer and magazine editor from the UK. Coming Undone is her memoir detailing a very difficult childhood, which she tries to leave behind by building a career that will catapult her into a new life. After working her way up the ranks in London, White eventually lands a dream job with a major magazine in New York. Here, she assumes her life will finally turn around. Unfortunately, the exact opposite happens. All of the trauma White experienced during her formative years, which she never had the opportunity to properly deal with, comes flooding back at a time when she is the most vulnerable she has possibly ever been. 

I enjoy reading memoir, especially when the author is already a writer. White takes this memoir to another level because it reads like fiction. The harsh realities of an abusive and lonely childhood and the difficulties she continued to face into adulthood are written with such realness that you can’t help but be immersed. I was myself, but I found that despite the exceptional writing, the subject matter made it a difficult read and one that you have to be prepared for. As noted at the beginning of this review, there are various content warnings for this text, so it’s definitely not for everyone. It is a gritty read, similar to Wild by Cheryl Strayed, so if you’re a fan of that book, Coming Undone may be a good one for you to pick up. I’m not one to shy away from a difficult read, but as is the case with this book, the subject matter takes a toll on your emotions. For that reason, this is not a book that, in my opinion, can be quickly read or easily absorbed.

Throughout the book, White unapologetically describes her struggle with addiction in such a way that puts the reader in a place of being able to understand it, even if they can’t identify with it. Each chapter weighed heavy on my heart, and I just kept wondering: how is she going to recover? Most of her problems with addiction take place in New York City, a place where she thought she’d make a real name for herself.  While she excelled professionally, the city was a drain on her personal life. New York became a secondary character, and White’s metaphorical adversary. There is a constant push and pull between White and the toll that living in New York takes on her. This is a very unique perspective; every other time I’ve read or watched something that takes place in New York, the city is romanticized. If you’re looking for that in this memoir, you won’t find it. 

For me, the ending of the story is a bit abrupt. Personally, I was expecting everything to be tied up neatly, but in retrospect I don’t think that’s what White was trying to achieve in writing this memoir. The poetic imagery of the ending is superb, and I assume the conclusion was more about White figuring out where she needed to be in a big picture sort of way, and not homing in on one aspect of her life. Overall, this is a beautifully crafted memoir. The subject matter may be hard but pushing your reading boundaries can sometimes yield an unexpected reward.

 

Thank you to PGC Books for the complimentary copy in exchange for an honest review!

Book Review: Blood Orange Night by Melissa Bond

By Erica Wiggins

In Melissa Bond’s memoir, the journalist and poet describes her journey through addiction to benzodiazepines. A mother to two young children, Bond suffers from terrible insomnia, compounded by losing her job as a magazine editor and the fact that she is growing apart from her husband. She visits her physician and is prescribed a benzodiazepine to help her sleep. Bond takes these pills each night, and as her insomnia continues, her physician increases them until her body starts to fail. Only then does she learn the dangers of taking and stopping this medication.

“The blood orange night turns red and screams through my eyes. The room tilts around me. Consciousness shuts again. Velveteen black. Silence. Time stretches and disappears.”

Bond describes her journey in an open, honest, and accessible way. The story starts off with the birth of her son, born with Down syndrome, followed by a quick second pregnancy with her daughter. This is when Bond first begins having trouble sleeping. After many sleepless nights she sees her doctor, putting her trust in medical professionals the way that many of us do.

I found myself putting this book down and thinking about what I just read, picking it back up and re-reading sentences and paragraphs. Bond drops you into her life. You walk alongside her in her sleepless nights, her fatigue and brain fog. Even just reading about the effects that benzodiazepines can have is completely terrifying. She takes her journey and uses it to shine a light on this family of drugs and what can happen from taking them.

“Among benzodiazepines, Ativan has a relatively high physical addiction potential and is recommended for short-term use, up to two to four weeks only.”

“I’ve been taking Ativan every night for over a year and a half.”

This is such an important topic because these medications are prescribed often, and the serious potential side effects are not well communicated. While this is a memoir of Bond’s journey, she uses the opportunity to teach her readers about this class of drugs, its effects, and how it can be misused. She describes the risk of addiction, the effects of withdrawal, and the difficulty in stopping this medication. She explains her journey of decreasing her dose over time, which can and often does take months, even years. She creates a glimpse into this world, vividly describing losing feeling in her leg, having no energy, experiencing strange smells, and generally feeling unwell. While we are focussing on her journey, there is no choice but to also describe how it affected her relationship with her husband and children, as well as her extended family, who had difficulty understanding this struggle.

It feels hard to describe this book in a way that does it justice. Bond shows vulnerability describing her lowest moments and a strength and resiliency that is admirable. She not only struggled through this journey but also made it public by publishing her story with a goal to spread awareness.

While this story is difficult at times to read, it is so worth it. Thought-provoking and moving, it will leave you better informed and more open to discussing this topic. I would recommend it to anyone who has dealt with addiction or who just wants to learn more. This book will leave you with renewed hope that with more information we can safely use these medications for their intended use.

 

Thank you to Simon & Schuster Canada for the complimentary copy in exchange for an honest review.

Book Review: Modern Whore by Andrea Werhun Photography by Nicole Bazuin

By Lauren Bell

The publisher’s blurb of Werhun and Bazuin’s book Modern Whore says that “it’s Playboy if the Playmates were in charge,” and that is honestly the most accurate summary one could give. I’d even add that reading it is also like listening to a Lizzo song: you finish a chapter and come out high on girl power. The sense of love and respect the two creators have for each other is genuine, and this adds to the sense of female empowerment the audience gains from reading Werhun’s story. The book is a blend of memoir and image, the result of a collaboration between Andrean Werhun and filmmaker Nicole Bazuin.

Ultimately, everything we know about the “Modern Whore” is wrong. Encounters with them are more than just sex; they’re whatever their client needs them to be (e.g., smart, funny, a conversationalist, sincere, accepting), and they deserve the same fundamental respect deserved by all women. Werhun’s development into a Modern Whore begins in her adolescence: she’s self-assured, confident, and unapologetic (everything my teenage self wished she could be), and she keeps the values she establishes as a youth with her as she begins her sex work career in university. There’s a lot one can learn from her stories on the job—and not just different positions, but also how one can best support a sex worker (e.g., what’s stigmatizing to say vs. what’s meaningful). Her work is funny in a cynical and satirical way, conveyed by anecdotes she includes aside of the main text, such as her takes on erotic board reviews and tips like “Remind any boundary-pushers that it is your body, your rules, and your safety!” But Werhun also does not shy away from serious topics. For instance, I found her experiences in giving up alcohol and in outreach to be particularly thoughtful.

In the second half of the book, Werhun chronicles her experiences as a dancer and outreach worker, which emphasize the sense of community amongst sex workers and dancers. There’s an unspoken “whore code,” where the workers support each other outwardly in giving advice and cheering their peers on, but also in more subtle ways like leaving supplies in their locker room donation bin. This extends to other, non-sex work-related things as well, which Werhun saw firsthand as she released Modern Whore during the difficult time when the COVID-19 pandemic was shaking the industry. Werhun highlights how resilient and supportive the community is.

What I liked most about her writing is that it is honest, bordering the line of bluntness, regardless whether she’s sharing a personal story or calling out rape culture. Her lack of sugar-coating is refreshing; she writes as if she wants her words to be a mirror in which you can see yourself, and her unique perspective on sex work is insightful. What’s more is that along with her brutal honesty, she’s also forgiving towards her younger self, which I’d argue is one of the most important themes in the book. I hope other readers can take away the theme of self-love the way that I did, among the many others embedded in Modern Whore.

 

Thank you to Penguin Random House Canada for the complimentary copy in exchange for an honest review.