Still Life with Tornado
By: A.S. King / Narrated By: Karissa Vacker
Length: 8 hrs and 56 mins
Wow—simply Wow. That said? This should come with a Trigger Warning…
16-year old Sarah is falling apart. As the story opens, she’s aimless, skipping school and contemplating changing her name. “Umbrella,” she thinks. That will be her new name, as her life has become one huge storm of BS that is raining on her. Home? Uh-uh. With a mom who works a 12-hour graveyard shift as an ER nurse, and with a dad whose moods and unpredictable nature set the tone for EVERYthing in their lives. And with a brother who’s far far faaaar away in Oregon, ostensibly part of a hyper-religious cult now and not in contact with the family?
No, there’s nothing. And as Sarah has learned that NOTHING in life, in art is original? That’s the final nail in Sarah’s Existential Coffin. She becomes unwashed, depressed, roams the streets, idolizing a homeless man who at least does chalk drawings. Sarah, once an artist with a treMENdous amount of talent, can no longer draw even a pear. Once her outlet, her joy, Art is now painful. She wants Authenticity; instead she’s mired in that BS with no Hope in sight.
Soon, she’s visited by her 10-year old Self, the Self who remembers what happened to the family on a fateful vacation in Mexico; or by her 23-year old Self who’s a bit smug and all-knowing, and finally by her 40-year old Self who cautions Sarah’s judgment by averring: Yeah, the 20s are hard years, just wait and see. She finds comfort in all these Sarahs who are very MUCH Real, and who counsel, who gripe at her. But seeing them only brings her closer to a truth she’d so very much rather keep repressed, a truth about Life and how it’s lived day by day.
Here’s the thing. I love doing audiobook reviews because I get to add my Squint-Eyed Cockeyed View of the World into my words and review crafting. Sometimes I get a bit personal because a work, a story, will come to mean so much to me. But I doooo shudder, and I doooo understand that on the Internet, words are permanent. Therefore I’m not going to share exACTly how this story affected me, but good golly gosh, to say it had me heartsick, nay: Gut-sick, would be a tremendous understatement. I WAS Sarah, at 5-years old, 8, 12, 14, 17, 19, 20-years old. Author A.S. King NAILED it. With Sarah I lived and breathed a nightmare again, and I wound up angry, and so very hurt. I ached for Sarah, and even tho’ I DESperately wanted to know: What Happens Next? Oh gosh, I kept the speed at my usual x1.3 because I just felt like I was in Sarah’s skin, feeling it when she just could NOT get into fresh clothes, could NOT manage to do anything but think, could NOT manage to be anything but a filthy whazzis with greasy hair, looking for answers, looking for a point to it all.
Add to that? This is just beautifully written with lines that are dropped then are picked up again and are woven into an intricate storyline. Almost like Sarah’s greatest artistic creations: She is devoted to her craft, loses time, but she sticks with her intention, strand by woven strand. This is a MARvelous book!
And Karissa Vacker? Good cow! This is not the first time I’ve experienced her narration, but boy did it stand out. It wasn’t until I was wellllll into it all that I realized that each character was differentiated effortlessly; it all flowed so well to where one is feeling oh so much for the characters, the people who were living these stories, these thunderstorms of BS, wading through, trying to breathe even as they destroyed themselves. Brilliant performance!
I think I’ve given you enough of a synopsis, and I do believe I’ve shared enough of myself, exposed my greatest heartache. After listening to it, I shakily got to my feet and wandered to the Gratitude Journal my husband and I keep. “Thank God that’s over” is what I wrote.
But not until after I wiped the tears away.
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