Lifeline

I received a free copy of this book through Book Sirens and am leaving this review voluntarily; it contains my personal opinions on the book. I wasn't sure what to expect of the quality in such a program, but I'm now extremely glad that I participated as I doubt this book would have ever crossed my radar otherwise... and now it's one of my favourites.

This novel follows the path of recovery for the narrator, a high school senior named Eli with some serious issues. Chief among those issues is his heroin addiction, which nearly costs his life. Sounds a bit Lifetime Movie, I know, but this is far too well written and raw to feel like some moral about not doing drugs wrapped in a book-shaped package. There are no out of place exposition dumps, no anvil-on-the-head morality pushes, and no sugarcoated euphemisms. In fact, while the story does end on a hopeful note, it pulls no punches in admitting that addiction is a cruel and cyclic disease which controls and damages the people who fall into its grasp.

The author, Abbey Lee Nash, is an absolute master of the “show, don't tell,” rule and has found the perfect way to weave important exposition into place without just dumbing it down and dumping it on readers several paragraphs at a time (like some other authors). Nash has a wonderful way with words which makes the writing flow well while genuinely feeling like a story told by a boy Eli's age in his life circumstances. She doesn't treat readers like idiots and hold their hands; instead, she puts the hints and clues where they belong and trusts us to see them. I've outlined a few examples of this among my public notes (edit: I have not, because in sending a document version of the book instead of a genuine copy Book Sirens takes away the ability to link notes from kindle on goodreads because the device doesn't realize you're reading an actual book), but I strongly encourage anyone curious about this book to buy it and see for themselves how well-written and compelling a story Nash weaves onto the pages.

At its core, this book is almost a character study in addition to a story of addiction and rehabilitation. Even the background characters are fleshed out people with distinguishing traits and personalities. I did have a few issues with some cliches - which I'll discuss in further detail during the spoiler section - but overall everyone felt raw and real, as if I were reading an autobiographical story instead of a fictional novel. My heart broke for these characters, my rage soared at their missteps, and my heart swelled with hope when they had personal triumphs. Even the characters I disliked managed to worm their way into my emotions, as they were three-dimensional and layered. The most selfish person still had good intentions at times. The most obnoxious character still tugged at my heart strings. The most surly character still managed to warm my heart a time or two. And, just like a story told by a real person, the narrative weaved a biased tale which left me taking Eli's side at times only to realize that the way he laid out certain facts had made me jump to unfair conclusions - and, in one significant case, I was emotionally floored right along with him when a life-altering revelation happened. It was as much a surprise to me, the reader, as it was to the narrating character.

Reading this novel was an intense experience. It's very much the kind of story which sucks the reader in and keeps them on the edge of their seat, reading ‘just one more chapter' ad nauseum... but it's also the kind of story which wrenches guts and shatters hearts and tightens lungs. Perhaps that's because I've dealt with my own addictive tendencies and deeply-rooted emotional problems of a nature similar to those seen in Eli, Red, and Libby in particular. I can't be sure, because empathizing with these characters just came so easily that I can't imagine trying to assess how someone might feel about this book if they don't connect on a personal level to the people brought to life in the pages.

That is not to say, however, that the characters are likable - at least not in the traditional sense. I did like them at times, but at others I wanted to reach through the book and smack them upside the head like Gibbs from NCIS. They are raw and real, vulnerable and flawed, damaged and damaging and in some cases outright toxic. But such is how life goes. This deviation from the standard is a breath of fresh air. Not everyone in real life realizes when they've done wrong or when they're being an insensitive jerkwad. Not everyone in real life is nice all the time or friendly all the time. Sometimes, people do stupid things because they're hurting and lashing out makes them feel better. So, too, do some of the characters in this novel behave irrationally and cruelly. They are, every last one of them, people affected by addiction. Yes, even those who aren't in the clinic are affected because they have close friends or family members suffering addiction and the disease touches everyone in its path.

I wasn't particularly pleased with one particular plot arc, as I felt it would have gone much better a different way and I just wanted to be done with it from the moment it began. This is tied to the cliche issue I also had. But overall, I enjoyed reading this. I would class it as one of my favourites, even though I can't quite rate it five stars due to personal gripes. There were also a few formatting issues (particularly, random lines written in different fonts) and typos (‘lightening' instead of ‘lightning,' for example), but not enough to make me feel it detracted from the reading experience.

I also want to give major props to the author for having characters' injuries and scars be more than just window dressing. One character has bruised ribs which impact their daily activity throughout the entire book, since the book only spans one month and bruised ribs take longer than that to heal. Likewise, Nash pulls no punches with the ever-present urges addicts face and just how easy it is for them to slide right back into using if faced with even the slightest bit of temptation. This is, by far, the most realistic portrayal I've ever read in a work of fiction, and I admire it for that. However, as I've never been through a rehab or detox facility, I can't say whether that aspect was realistic. It felt genuine at times and absurd at others, sometimes like a place for healing and sometimes like a prison by any other name. But then, we're seeing the place through a specific lens - that of Eli's experiences - so perhaps the dichotomy is actually a very clever attempt to show that someone in the throes of addiction will see help as an unwanted restraint.

So, as I've mentioned, I feel like the book is raw and realistic and I praise the fact that it doesn't pull punches. I stand by this completely, but I will say that the first 25% of the book is far, far better than the majority of Eli's time in rehab. And I don't mean that I like him better before he's getting help or anything like that; I mean that the writing feels a bit more visceral and realistic in the earlier quarter of the book than it does in the latter parts. While there's an ever-present current of realness and rawness in the writing during Eli's time in rehab and I absolutely love some of the characters (Red and Mo, especially), it's hindered by the subplot with Libby.Yes, Libby, one of the characters I saw a bit too much of myself within. She was horrible and bratty to Eli from the start, but I was willing to forgive that as being troubled and easily triggered by Eli's remarkable ability to open mouth and insert foot (metaphorically speaking). However, from the very beginning, Eli kept pining after his girlfriend Savannah in one breath then obsessing over this girl who'd gone full on Psychotic Episode at him. While it's later explained that they've developed a toxic dependency upon each other, that doesn't explain why he decided not to write her off completely after she exploded at him the first time they met. It was painfully obvious that the YA book trope of a love triangle was about to play out, and so many events and character decisions conspire toward this end without making any sense, such that most things leading to Eli and Libby having a bond feel highly contrived.For some reason, Eli is creepy levels of obsessed with this girl he only just met who's extremely hot-and-cold with him - emphasis on the cold. At one point, Eli offers her unsolicited advice on how to have a more effective workout in the gym. Libby is grumpy about it, but they actually appear to be bonding a bit... until, she outright assaults him by putting a weight on his back unannounced while he's doing pushups. Since he has bruised ribs, it hurts him more than she intends, and it's that rather than the fact she could have hurt him regardless which causes her to eventually show a bit of remorse. And he continues to pine after her. He continues to obsess. It's as if he lives and breathes solely for some chick he doesn't really know, at times. Not only that, but he seems freakishly obsessed with noticing her self-harm scars. If Libby is in a scene, you can safely bet that her scars - or what wardrobe element is covering them at the time - will be mentioned.They use each other emotionally, both for comfort and for tearing down each other. The circumstances which bring them together frequently come across horribly inauthentic. For example, Eli's girlfriend who supposedly loves him (and he, her), has moved on within a week and started dating and sleeping with the guy who takes his place as lacrosse captain. Yes, within a week of being terrified someone she loved was going to die from overdose, she moves on to someone else. And then agrees to come visit him, pretends to still like him, and breaks the news to him after he's been affectionate with her. Why? Because she needs to be out of the way to push Eli/Libby. At least, that's how it seems.In another example, Libby chooses not to say goodbye to someone she considers a brother when he 'graduates' from the program, so that she can hang out on a 'date' with Eli. She's very clearly shown as wanting to linger behind, but agrees to go with Eli who selfishly encourages her away. Yet during this 'date,' she goes from warm toward him to kissing him... to pushing him away and being cruel to him and storming off. When it comes time for her to 'graduate' the program, Libby spends her speech talking about how she doesn't believe love is real... after, in a more private setting, she'd berated Eli and basically told him to grow up and get over her, despite her being the one who kissed him and left him further confused about the emotional bond they had.Then, later, she just so happens to end up being rushed back to detox at precisely the time that Eli is facing temptation to go back to doing heroin due to contraband his so-called best friend smuggled onto campus. We're given the fake-out that maybe it's Will - a character who recently accepted drugs from someone else and then disappeared from the facility - but nope. It's Libby, here to bring back the worst and most toxic 'romance' since Twilight and Fifty Shades. How does Eli react? By deciding he absolutely must chase after her and find a way to break into the detox unit to be with Libby. The girl who broke his heart. The girl he decided had played with his emotions for funsies. The girl who was extremely psychologically damaged and kept jerking his emotions around. The girl who once hurt him physically because he dared to give her friendly advice in the gym - advice she seemed to accept and appreciate at first. He's so confusingly and inexplicably devoted to her, that it's downright infuriating, especially by this point in the book.At the risk of being kicked out of the facility, Eli decides to steal a staff member's passkey to get into detox ward... and Red, who previously tore Eli down for being so stupid and so willing to throw away a chance he was lucky to have, decides to help him. This is explained away as Red feeling sympathetic because he'd have wanted to spend his dead girlfriend's last moments with her just to comfort her, but it feels extremely contrived as a means to explain a convenient Eli/Libby plot point. She's in a detox ward of a rehab facility, not the emergency room of a hospital; we'd already been shown via Eli that overdoses go to the hospital first, and the wounds on her wrists were already medically bandaged. Libby was very clearly not dying, and Red had no logical reason to risk being kicked out of rehab himself just to help Eli with an obsession he'd already called out for being toxic a chapter or two prior.Then, once Eli somehow manages to sneak into the detox ward, he's able to sneak around in the shadows unseen like he's playing a game of Dishonored on easy with extra sneak-aiding runes. He gets into Libby's room, spends time with her, is very creepily vaguely sexual after finding out that her mother's boyfriend molests her... and manages to not be seen from the doorway to the room while he's laying on the floor between the two medical beds in the room. Seriously. There were previously established security cameras on campus, but apparently in the detox ward with high-risk cases, there aren't any to be found or at the very least nobody actually monitors them. Just... what??? I've been in a clinic that handles rehab, brain trauma, and mental health issues and I can promise you that there are cameras in the rooms and facing (but not inside) the bathrooms - as well as staff constantly monitoring the rooms to make sure nobody is hurting themselves, in distress, having a seizure, etc. And when all is said and done, he walks to the reception desk and pretends the doors were open and he'd just walked in. They believe him without question, leading to more video game level sneaking through the facility without ever being caught. It's a horribly contrived and unbelievable element, which makes me very frustrated since the rest of this book and most things outside of Libby are so well-written and so beautifully portrayed with raw, unflinching realism.This also leads me to the one cliche issue I took issue with. Libby! Where everyone else has a nuanced backstory and feels more like a real person, Libby is the stereotypical girl from every Lifetime movie and Law & Order: SVU episode (and poorly written fanfic) ever. She has tattoos, is a bit emo/goth in style, has dyed hair, cuts her wrists "just to prove she's alive," pops pills, and is molested by her mother's creepy on-again, off-again boyfriend. She's basically what feels like the tv-level inaccurate depiction of bipolar: one second she's friendly, then the next she's attacking a person for doing something trivial or possibly even nothing at all. While I did see elements of myself in the way she felt like getting close to people made her too vulnerable and so she'd pull away at the slightest hint of them not caring, I still didn't particularly like her for a vast majority of the book. And I certainly didn't like the weird pseudo-romance and obsessive co-dependency she and Eli formed with one another.Had Libby and Eli been solely friends and had the most ridiculous, contrived things not happened to push them toward a weird faux romance, I would have easily rated this book five stars. I think I'd have even forgiven Libby's cliche nature if only I wasn't extremely sick of hearing about her every five seconds and watching Eli spiral as if she were the sun around which his world revolved (even BEFORE his girlfriend broke up with him!) by time her story was revealed. And, y'know, if the self harm scars weren't mentioned in literally every scene where she appears, as if she's just a prop there to be edgy. (I don't at all think that was the author's intent, it's just an unfortunate side effect of her choosing to give Eli a predisposition toward focusing on Libby's scars.) I wish they'd been friends. I wish they'd been buddies at times and chilly acquaintances at others, leaving Red to remain Eli's best friend in rehab and giving Eli a less disturbing tie to Libby. I wish Eli hadn't latched onto Libby so much. Certainly there could have been a better way to portray his need for an emotional crutch relationship?I also wish that the book hadn't rushed so much toward Eli feeling like maybe he can handle recovery on his own. I was hoping that he'd recognize he wasn't ready and ask to have his stay extended, setting up for a potential sequel novel covering more of his time in rehab alongside Red, who was capable of admitting he needed to enter the extended stay program. In one chapter, Eli is admitting he's not ready to go home and jonesing for another hit because he's so overwhelmed. In the very next chapter, he's suddenly finding hope and thinking he might be okay. It's rushed. Not unrealistic, necessarily, just too rushed - as if the author realized at the last minute she was running out of days and had to cram everything remaining into a small amount of in-universe time. I'd have also liked to see Eli and his little brother, Benny, reunite.However, as I've said before, I do love that the ending isn't one of 'happily ever after' but rather a realistic one of trying and hoping but knowing that the journey with addiction is a very difficult path to walk. And, ultimately, I loved the other characters and I loved the dynamic between (nearly) everyone so much that I was completely willing to forgive the annoyance of the Libby/Eli relationship.Perhaps, in the end, my gripe with Libby and Eli is that I've been in horribly toxic friendships and relationships and it scares and irks me to see similar play out in a book where I relate so well to one (partially both) of the characters involved. It certainly wouldn't be the only element of this novel which made me face uncomfortable truths about myself at the same time as the characters. I think I love it for that element.