Shared through intimate snapshots of childhood memories—and framed against an undercurrent of foreboding that runs throughout—Schneider’s recollections pack a powerful punch. He unflinchingly recounts his abuse, sharing the hatred he instantly felt for the man he once loved unconditionally—and chronicles how that hatred remained, unabated, for years. Despite those earth-shattering insights, Schneider never lets the calamity overshadow the rest of his memoir. Using his poet’s touch, he relays thwarted childhood runaway schemes, science class experiments that go awry, hipster cousins ruining the spirit of Christmas, and the lasting effects of shattered young love (“For years I would fall hard whenever I fell in love. And even harder when love departed” he writes).
Schneider’s short essays roll a striking portrait of a distinct time and place into a highly readable story of his early life, delivering a patchwork of potent experiences that feel fully formed and deeply expressive. Classic music and pop culture of the ‘60s and ‘70s invade the memories, from Schneider’s description of Joni Mitchell as a “guide, articulating the minor keys of my emotional state” to his dabbling in drugs on “the beach not far from Nixon’s San Clemente estate.” This is an exquisite rendering of innocence, unraveling, and identity.
Takeaway: Exquisite coming-of-age amid trauma, family secrets, and 1960s awakenings.
Comparable Titles: Rick Hill’s We're All from Somewhere Else, Lawrence Culver’s The Frontier of Leisure.
Production grades
Cover: A
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A
Marketing copy: A
