Look Me in the Eye: My Life with Asperger's by John Elder Robison

“My conversational difficulties highlight a problem Aspergians face every day. A person with an obvious disability—for example, someone in a wheelchair—is treated compassionately because his handicap is obvious. No one turns to a guy in a wheelchair and says, “Quick! Let’s run across the street!” And when he can’t run across the street, no one says, “What’s his problem?” They offer to help him across the street. With me, though, there is no external sign that I am conversationally handicapped. So folks hear some conversational misstep and say, “What an arrogant jerk!” I look forward to the day when my handicap will afford me the same respect accorded to a guy in a wheelchair. And if the respect comes with a preferred parking space, I won’t turn it down.” 
― John Elder Robison, Look Me in the Eye: My Life with Asperger's

Ever since he was small, John Robison had longed to connect with other people, but by the time he was a teenager, his odd habits—an inclination to blurt out non sequiturs, avoid eye contact, dismantle radios, and dig five-foot holes (and stick his younger brother in them)—had earned him the label “social deviant.” No guidance came from his mother, who conversed with light fixtures, or his father, who spent evenings pickling himself in sherry. It was no wonder he gravitated to machines, which could, at least, be counted on.

After fleeing his parents and dropping out of high school, his savant-like ability to visualize electronic circuits landed him a gig with KISS, for whom he created their legendary fire-breathing guitars. Later, he drifted into a “real” job, as an engineer for a major toy company. But the higher Robison rose in the company, the more he had to pretend to be “normal” and do what he simply couldn’t: communicate. It wasn’t worth the paycheck.

It was not until he was forty that an insightful therapist told him he had the form of autism called Asperger’s syndrome. That understanding transformed the way Robison saw himself—and the world.

Look Me in the Eye is the moving, darkly funny story of growing up with Asperger’s at a time when the diagnosis simply didn’t exist. A born storyteller, Robison takes you inside the head of a boy whom teachers and other adults regarded as “defective,” who could not avail himself of KISS’s endless supply of groupies, and who still has a peculiar aversion to using people’s given names (he calls his wife “Unit Two”). He also provides a fascinating reverse angle on the younger brother he left at the mercy of their nutty parents—the boy who would later change his name to Augusten Burroughs and write the bestselling memoir Running with Scissors.

Ultimately, this is the story of Robison’s journey from his world into ours, and his new life as a husband, father, and successful small business owner—repairing his beloved high-end automobiles. It’s a strange, sly, indelible account—sometimes alien, yet always deeply human.

I enjoyed this book so much more than I was expecting too. I pictured it to be dryly written and have the weight of a textbook, instead I found it insightful, interesting and humorous.

The first section focused on Robinson's early childhood and home life, and I found this part depressing and so sad, but that just makes his achievement to overcome his challenges with  Aspergers so much more incredible. How many other people throughout history that achieved great things in their chosen field, might have had a similar spectrum condition?

I didn't really have much of an understanding of Aspergers prior to reading this, but I'm glad I did, as I feel like I would be able to assist them with feeling comfortable with the conversation and then appreciate their unique ability.  I can see how this novel would be very important to help educate school aged children to be more tolerant and understanding to their peers, regardless of any diagnosis.

The Girl on the Train by Paula Hawkins

Rachel takes the same commuter train every morning. Every day she rattles down the track, flashes past a stretch of cozy suburban homes, and stops at the signal that allows her to daily watch the same couple breakfasting on their deck. She’s even started to feel like she knows them. “Jess and Jason,” she calls them. Their life—as she sees it—is perfect. Not unlike the life she recently lost.

And then she sees something shocking. It’s only a minute until the train moves on, but it’s enough. Now everything’s changed. Unable to keep it to herself, Rachel offers what she knows to the police, and becomes inextricably entwined in what happens next, as well as in the lives of everyone involved. Has she done more harm than good?

A compulsively readable, emotionally immersive, Hitchcockian thriller that draws comparisons to Gone Girl, The Silent Wife, or Before I Go to Sleep, this is an electrifying debut embraced by readers across markets and categories. 

Its interesting what sort of assumptions we make about other peoples lives, just based on little pieces of information we see or overhear. This book is a perfect example of that, and how those assumptions can protects us, or get us in to trouble.

This story had a great pace, was easy to read and suspenseful, although I wasn't completely shocked by the ending. 

The characters were well written and they evolved really well once more of the detail came out.

A great read and one that wasn't easy to put down. 

Musical Chairs - Jen Knox

“An intelligent person can rationalize anything, a wise person doesn't try.” - Jen Knox

Musical Chairs explores one family's history of mental health diagnoses and searches to define the cusp between a '90s working-class childhood and the trouble of adapting to a comfortable life in the suburbs. In order to understand her restlessness, Jennifer reflects on years of strip-dancing, alcoholism, and estrangement. Inspired by the least likely source, the family she left behind, Jennifer struggles towards reconciliation. This story is about identity, class, family ties, and the elusive nature of mental illness. 

This was one of those raw stories you read that makes you examine your own life and think how lucky you really are. 

This book COULD have been full of self-pity, but instead it was full of optimism. It COULD have been full of excuses and weakness, but instead it showed strength and determination. It COULD have been hard to read, but instead I found it a refreshing glimpse in to the life of someone who struggles with mental illness, but fights back. 

This is a great book for those who has never really had any contact with someone who has a mental illness, but is interested in seeing how their thought pattern works. A great read!