Like most authors (I guess) I’ve had testreaders reading #TSWWM. The ingenius thing about this book is it is not what it seems. Which is pretty much what my testreaders has commented on. It is not what they expected. One of them asked for more details, but I am going tell you why there are no details in the book.
the Self which wasn’t mine is a book giving the reader the chance to experience growing up under the pressure of emotional extortion from one parent and the lack of handling that from the other parent.
It is not a story leading from A to B et cetera. The reader is brought down the memory lane, filled with experiences of the subtleties that comes with emotional abuse and extortion. How can I tell you exactly what happened, when nothing specific actually did happen?
I can’t. All I can tell you is how I and my siblings felt. The constant pressure we were under. How we were affected by relating to and living with a person who should have been the source of our safety, but was everything but that.
In that sense, the book is terrible. At least to me. At least to one of my testreaders, who happens to be one of my younger siblings who lived with me through these years. We both shudder at how things were, and that we now need to find ways out of the consequences.
That, let me tell you, is easier said than done. It has taken me years and years, and I’m not done yet. And my sibling is much younger than I, so there is much work to be done there.
So #TSWWM is not like any other book about having a twisted childhood. It is not a chronological story giving all the gory details, because there are very few details to be told.
And in all honesty; I don’t think the details is what makes this specific story a good read. There is so much else about #TSWWM that makes it awesome. Text and images are combined in a way that, to me, punches you right where you feel it the most, and at the same time has you stumbling over the edge into the unknown in your own experience of what you just read.
For me, this is a book I hope few people recognize themselves in. Unfortunately, I’m fairly sure too many will see themselves in it. This, I can only regret.
But it is what it is. And this is my story.