Aimee's book

Aimee’s journals and photographs of her two months in New York are spellbinding. I’ve been saying that since the first time she sent me a slice. Now I have proof I was right. Sue can’t put the book down. She keeps reading bits aloud. It’s shockingly honest, utterly revealing, and the more personal it is, the more you feel it’s about you, moments you’ve hid from yourself or pretended to forget. But there it is, and you recognize yourself. Here’s a sample:

I felt like I was covered in tar, in a pool of tar trying to stretch myself out onto a sidewalk made of tar. Anxiety hit me in the gut as I was trying to leave the apartment again and I recognized the edges of panic. I thought back to a time I had a full blown panic attack and how it felt, mentally measuring how far away this one was. It sucked.… I had a valium I had stolen and I broke it in half and then in half again and ate that tiny slice of the pie. It’s so weird how I have to take the maximum dosage of adderall to function but give me more than a sliver of a downer and I’ll pass the fuck out like Sleeping Beauty. Or barf. Or both. 

So I slipped out the door leaving bits of tar on the door handle. I struggled to unstick my hands and drudged my feet along the tar painted hallway to the elevator doors. I was going to the Village. I had been trying to get myself there for days…

I got off the train at Union Station and promptly headed in the wrong direction then walked around the block so no one would notice I was actually lost. Eventually I made my way past Union Square and kept going towards the Hudson River. A lukewarm rainy mist began to fall. Then the valium kicked in. I was suddenly and somewhat pleasantly wading through sidewalks made of tar soup. 

If you want more, you can “preview” and read the whole book, and see Aimee’s photographs (she sees as well as she writes). Sadly, it’s impossibly expensive to buy from Blurb, but if anyone has any idea how to find a publisher who might consider it, please let us know. It’s much better than a thousand other books I’ve read that have been published, but I have no clue how to get it seen by someone who might say yes to it.

I skipped posting yesterday. I was immobilized by grief. I couldn’t buy groceries, I couldn’t function. Today is better. This grief business is a different story every day.