Devi Nair
Cancer has always felt like a shadow in my life, something my loved ones have battled, and something I’ve witnessed from the edges. Picking up this book felt like stepping directly into that shadow. What Does it Feel Like is not an easy book to read, and I mean that in the best way possible. Written during her own battle with glioblastoma, it feels like Kinsella poured every ounce of her soul into Eve’s story. This novel is raw, heartbreaking, and intimate, even as she laces it with her trademark optimism and humor. She writes with such raw honesty that it doesn’t feel like fiction at all; instead, you’re sitting at her side, feeling each fear, each fragile hope, each shaky laugh. There’s no distance.
The novella is short, but every page reverberates with emotional weight. It feels to me like this is all Sophie could write on this topic without breaking down herself, like a carefully held breath she dared to share with us. I found myself unable to finish, not because it was lacking, but because it was too good. The writing was so vivid and personal that I felt like I was sitting in the room with her: when she cried, when she tried to reconcile with her diagnosis, and when she reached for humor in the darkest places so her readers wouldn’t have to feel the full weight of her pain.
The brevity, at just under 150 pages, feels deliberate—like Kinsella could only say so much before the weight of it broke her. Her humor is a lifeline, but you can sense the tears behind it, making every page feel like a gift and a wound. It’s not just a story; it’s a glimpse into her courage, and that intimacy overwhelmed me. I DNF’ed this book not because it wasn’t compelling, but because it was too compelling. The grief, the uncertainty, even the smallest details, felt so close to home that it became difficult to keep reading. For families touched by cancer, this book is an unflinching mirror to heartbreak and hope.
Originally posted at viewsshewrites.wordpress.com.
Cancer has always felt like a shadow in my life, something my loved ones have battled, and something I’ve witnessed from the edges. Picking up this book felt like stepping directly into that shadow. What Does it Feel Like is not an easy book to read, and I mean that in the best way possible. Written during her own battle with glioblastoma, it feels like Kinsella poured every ounce of her soul into Eve’s story. This novel is raw, heartbreaking, and intimate, even as she laces it with her trademark optimism and humor. She writes with such raw honesty that it doesn’t feel like fiction at all; instead, you’re sitting at her side, feeling each fear, each fragile hope, each shaky laugh. There’s no distance.
The novella is short, but every page reverberates with emotional weight. It feels to me like this is all Sophie could write on this topic without breaking down herself, like a carefully held breath she dared to share with us. I found myself unable to finish, not because it was lacking, but because it was too good. The writing was so vivid and personal that I felt like I was sitting in the room with her: when she cried, when she tried to reconcile with her diagnosis, and when she reached for humor in the darkest places so her readers wouldn’t have to feel the full weight of her pain.
The brevity, at just under 150 pages, feels deliberate—like Kinsella could only say so much before the weight of it broke her. Her humor is a lifeline, but you can sense the tears behind it, making every page feel like a gift and a wound. It’s not just a story; it’s a glimpse into her courage, and that intimacy overwhelmed me. I DNF’ed this book not because it wasn’t compelling, but because it was too compelling. The grief, the uncertainty, even the smallest details, felt so close to home that it became difficult to keep reading. For families touched by cancer, this book is an unflinching mirror to heartbreak and hope.
Originally posted at viewsshewrites.wordpress.com.