I need to listen to myself. I don't like poetry, the feeling I always have of being talked at by the poet not to by the writer; and this is, make no mistake, poetry with prose's line breaks added. I relate to the lady's grief at the loss of her child and the many issues surrounding being Other in the increasingly hostile US. If you like poetry, give it a whirl, but for me it felt like many more than its two-hundred-ish pages of being told I'm defective for not "getting" the ever-so-pretty (I suppose) phrases.

This was a difficult memoir to read -- Laila Halaby's pain and grief are raw on the page. Her prose is lyrical and somewhat meandering. Halaby is also a poet and this very much influenced her style. Sentences which might feel disjointed in prose suddenly become poignant and beautiful when viewed as poetry. This book requires slow reading to appreciate. It feels a bit odd rating a work that is so deeply personal -- it was like listening in on the inner thoughts of the author.

3.5 stars

Thank you NetGalley for this eArc. All thoughts and opinions are my own.

Thank you NetGalley for this ARC and, in turn, my honest review:

I could not get through this book. The premise of this sounded raw and emotional and like memoirs I’ve read in the past, but the writing was just all over the place. How sentences were structured and topics were thrown about left me confused and I just couldn’t continue on through it.