In a style that transitions between traditional prose and a modified verse as well as first, second AND third person, Yrsa tells a heart-wrenching story of her mother’s troubles following a young pregnancy with her older brother and her own life as she grew up, exiled to her grandparents’ house because Marcia (her mother) had a boyfriend who couldn’t be trusted with Yrsa’s growing body. Separated from her younger brother, Roo, and her only parent Yrsa was forced to follow the strict religion of her grandparents and try to understand her burgeoning sexuality. She rarely sees her mother but soon receives news that her philandering Nigerian father, who she never met, has died, and Roo is acting out, acting troubled, likely experimenting with drugs. Yrsa grows up, also experimenting with sex and drugs and trying to figure out herself and how to make money. She gets engaged and her mother is sick and dies and Yrsa decided she can’t go through with a marriage to the man who is too good for her.

All throughout I felt expertly manipulated by Yrsa’s writing, and easily flipped through 80% of the book in a single evening. I’m in awe and aching for the Terrible she experienced, but hopeful that another book from her will show healing and growth and more fabulous prose.