I need to put it out there, I love Emma Forrest.
After reading her debut novel, Namedropper, my life changed a little bit forever. Since reading her other heart-hurt-y, honest and beautifully crafted books, Thin Skin and Cherries in the Snow, I’ve come to realise that this is what happens when you read her books. It’s just the way it is.
On the cover quote of Emma’s new book, Your Voice in My Head, author, Elizabeth Gilbert says “Emma Forrest craft’s the living daylights out of every sentence” and damn, she’s right. Her words weave their way into my soul and I literally crave her books like I crave chocolate. I emailed her once to tell her this and she mailed me back in an email titled ‘Lovely Miss Pink’.
As a writer-girl I should have the vocabulary necessary to share with you how much this book moves me, makes me laugh, makes me feel incredibly uncomfy, makes me shed tears and once again, how it’s changed me. Except, I’m not sure I’d know where to start. In fact, I’m struggling. It’s easy to write a bad review, there are a million words to describe how bad something can be, yet when it comes to writing a good review it’s much, much harder, mainly because I don’t know how to say ‘this book is f**king awesome’ in a more articulate way.
Your Voice in my Head has the potential to be one of those misery memoirs, but it’s not. It’s far from it. Yes, it’s a tale of loss, heartbreak, bulimia and suicide attempts, and I can’t promise it won’t make you feel really uncomfy in places, but underneath it all is hope. Of how she managed to resist drowning in her own insanity.
I also love how she tells of her most important relationships: with her family, with Dr R – the therapist who was her absolute lifeline and the actor who she fell deeply in love with and calls her Gypsy Husband. She lost both men: Dr R died and ‘GH’ ended their apparently idyllic relationship rather abruptly.
Emma is intense, precocious and a li’l bit messy and she writes as if the act of writing itself is her life buoy in a big angry sea that is threatening to swallow her up, and maybe it is, because this book is a survivor’s story. I read it in one sitting and through her word-weaving and strangely odd yet gorgeous and lovely stories you root for her. Really you do. I wanted to, and still do, take GH aside and shake him, hard. ‘Can’t you see how much you love her? Go back. Try harder.’
Yep. I ADORED this book. My beau rang me just as I was reading the last page and I was crying. Big fat salty tears. In public. And a day later I’m still thinking about every word.
Like I say, this book is f**king awesome.