Pushing the Limits: A Close-Up Review

"No one knows what happened the night Echo Emerson went from popular girl with jock boyfriend to gossiped-about outsider with "freaky" scars on her arms. Even Echo can't remember the whole truth of that horrible night. All she knows is that she wants everything to go back to normal.But when Noah Hutchins, the smoking-hot, girl-using loner in the black leather jacket, explodes into her life with his tough attitude and surprising understanding, Echo's world shifts in ways she could never have imagined. They should have nothing in common. And with the secrets they both keep, being together is pretty much impossible.

Yet the crazy attraction between them refuses to go away. And Echo has to ask herself just how far they can push the limits and what she'll risk for the one guy who might teach her how to love again." (from Goodreads)

Pushing the Limits by Katie McGarry

Characters:

Echo: she's obviously gone through a lot of trauma. It's been suppressed, but under the surface it's tearing her up inside. Since she doesn't know what happened, she's been blaming some people — and there are a couple of people to blame. Namely, her mom and dad, neither of whom really handled the situation well.

Noah: I wasn't crazy about Noah (for reasons which will be mentioned below). However, he has a lot of good qualities — despite his "stereotypical tough guy" facade, he actually really cares about his brothers and his friends. It's sad what he had to go through, but it's great to see how much family means to him. It's also rewarding to watch him opening up to Echo and letting himself love her, since he usually suppresses his emotions and/or covers them up with sex. I liked that he was willing to reach out to Echo and get to know her. He doesn't care very much about what other people think (for instance, what his friends think about him dating Echo), which is also admirable.

His voice occasionally lapses into the overly poetic, but for the most part he sounds fairly authentic for a teen guy (complete with swearing and a general ineloquence about expressing himself).

Echo & Noah: The romance worked on some levels for me, but not entirely. It's a slow-burn romance at first, and the sexual tension is done really well. In some ways their relationship is a lot like Alex's and Brittany's from Perfect Chemistry. However, the romance itself lost some of its appeal for me once they started dating, mainly because of Noah's Neanderthal-like "manly instincts." He's got a bit of a possessive streak, always thinking of Echo as "his girl" or "his siren," etc. Also, this is a personal preference, but I really didn't like the way he called her "baby." (I'm sorry, some people may find it sweet or affectionate or whatever, but it just makes me cringe and think feminist thoughts.)

In a way Noah and Echo balance each other out pretty well. For Echo, Noah is someone who can protect her, and also someone she feels she can count on. He's a bit rough around the edges, and he challenges her and sparks something inside her that guys like Luke never did. And she can stick up for herself with him. However, I think sometimes he pushes her a bit too hard, and doesn't realize how much his words can hurt her.

The friends: Grace bugged me — she cared way too much about status and reputation and wasn't really a friend at all to Echo. Both Grace and Natalie could have used some more dimension, but Lila I liked. She sticks with Echo through thick and thin, and I have to admire her for that. She's really focused on Echo's wellbeing, and she doesn't ever try to make it all about herself. Furthermore, she understands how much support Echo needs and how fragile Echo is. In essence, she's a great best friend.

I thought Noah's friends Isaiah and Beth were more distinctive characters than Natalie and Grace. Isaiah's a really good friend to have in a pinch, and even though Beth comes across as thorny and prickly at first, she's got a soft side (even if she doesn't want to admit it).

Echo's parents:

I didn't like her dad very much. Well, I really didn't like him at the beginning, and by the end I was feeling slightly more charitable towards him. He made some major mistakes, but he seemed to care about Echo and her wellbeing. He's not the greatest dad, but not the worst one either. (His wife Ashley, on the other hand, I didn't like from the start and it stayed that way.)

As for Echo's mom, I think she really has a lot to answer for. I feel like even though the mom has some excuse for her behaviour, what she did later when she met with Echo was not at all what a loving mother should have done. She should have taken more responsibility for her actions, especially considering that she had made what appears to be a selfish choice and it had serious repercussions for Echo. I ended up feeling quite mad at the mom; I don't know how someone could do that to their child. (Major spoilers, highlight to read: I know she was in a deep depression when this happened and she didn't really have control of her actions at that point but A) she shouldn't have gone off the meds and B) when she met up with Echo in the cemetery, she should have said something different. Instead she kept all her emotions at distance, didn't want to talk about what happened, and it wasn't what Echo needed at all for closure. You'd think the mom would have been devastated by what she'd done to her daughter, but instead she just wanted to blame it all on her mental illness and shrug it off. Perhaps her decision to go off the meds was influenced by her bipolar disorder, but you'd think if she'd been on them for a significant period of time, her symptoms would have been mostly under control. I think the only reason she stopped taking her medication is because she wanted her creativity back, and it sounds like this was not the first time she'd gone off them, so I suspect she knew full well what she was getting herself into.)

Premise:

Pushing the Limits provides an excellent portrayal of the difficulty of living with a bipolar parent. Echo feels so torn about her mother. In one way, she loves her and she has good memories of her mom (some of her best memories are of when her mom was in her manic phase), but then she's also scared of her mom, and confused about why her mom would try to hurt her. And that, too, she attributes to her mom's bipolar disorder. Plus, because she looks a lot like her mom and they share an artistic streak, she's worried that's going to translate into her being bipolar too.

I wish Echo could have been told more about her mom's bipolar, and we could have gotten a better glimpse into what her mom was going through, and why she acted the way she did. We don't really get Echo's mom's side of it — namely, because the mom isn't willing to tell it, which is one thing that really frustrated me about her character. Still, I think someone should have sat down with Echo and talked to her more about bipolar disorder. 

And then of course there's the matter of Echo's scars, and everyone judging her. I thought there might actually be more specifically about the scars than there was — she never actually describes them or stares at them herself, although perhaps she's gotten used to them.

The therapist, Mrs. Collins, is very non-thereotically-oriented. She asks a lot of questions, but doesn't really come off as any specific type of approach (like client-centered or CBT, etc.). Mostly she just wants to know how things are going with Echo and Noah. We also see a bit of hypnotism in here too, which is interesting. I'm kind of conflicted about them attempting to pull Echo's memories out. While I understand that Echo wants to know what happened, hypnotic retrieval of memories is really something you should approach with caution. Admittedly, the therapist does this for the most part; she tries to perform the hypnosis in a safe space and she's there with Echo while she's being confronted with all these memories. I have to wonder if maybe it would be better if Echo didn't remember anything at all, but obviously this suppression of memories (causing what feels like a "black hole" in her mind) isn't working for her. She's clearly got some post-traumatic stress disorder — not surprisingly, after what she endured.  

Plot:

This book is compelling in a surprising way. The romance is an essential element, but there are also a lot of "issues" that are handled well for the most part. The mystery of what happened to Echo that night she can't remember gives the story some direction, and keeps you wanting to read.

That said, there is a part in the book where the general plot lags, and there's not much going on besides the romance. There's also quite a bit of repetition in the kinds of conversations that Echo and Noah have — usually it's either "I need to find out what happened" or "I love my brothers" or "Let's make out." Since the book is fairly long, I think some of these conversations could have been condensed or eclipsed into each other.

I felt good about how things were resolved in the Noah-and-his-brothers storyline. He makes an important decision that allows him to do what he wants in the future. (Spoilers: I'm glad that he realized his brothers were better off with the foster parents. While I admired his tenacity in wanting to keep his promise of having his brothers live with him, ultimately he made the mature decision. His life is his own, he can go on to college, and he won't feel tied down to his brothers. I think he could have grown to resent them if he'd tried to get his brothers back, because they'd be preventing him from doing what he really wanted to with his life.)
 

Both Echo and Noah end up in a pretty good place, and I was pleased about that because they have both been through a lot and deserve some breaks for once. However, I thought it was just a little too much of a happy ending — almost everything gets resolved nicely, and it's rather drawn out. Spoilers: Echo's relationship with Ashley starts to get repaired, she's on much better terms with her dad, she and Noah both get scholarships to the same college, he can see his brothers whenever he wants, and they're going on a trip to Colorado. Basically, there are several conversations with some kinda cheesy emotional bonding going on. Also, it's a shame that we don't get a bit of closure with Mrs. Collins — it's like she drops out at the end.

Final verdict: 3.5 shooting stars. I thought it was overly stretched out, without enough substance (there was a heavy focus on the romance) and too much repetition in the conversations. But, on the whole I enjoyed reading it and found the psychology quite interesting.

Note: There is some mature language/content in this book.

Disclaimer: I received this as an e-book through Netgalley.

This book counts towards my goals for the Debut Author reading challenge and the Just Contemporary reading challenge.

 

Something Like Normal: A Psychtember Review

Patient: Something Like Normal by Trish Doller

Presentation (from Goodreads): "When Travis returns home from a stint in Afghanistan, his parents are splitting up, his brother’s stolen his girlfriend and his car, and he’s haunted by nightmares of his best friend’s death. It’s not until Travis runs into Harper, a girl he’s had a rocky relationship with since middle school, that life actually starts looking up. And as he and Harper see more of each other, he begins to pick his way through the minefield of family problems and post-traumatic stress to the possibility of a life that might resemble normal again. Travis’s dry sense of humor, and incredible sense of honor, make him an irresistible and eminently lovable hero."

Assessment:

Axis 1. Characters

The characterization in Something Like Normal is wonderful. Travis has one of the most authentic and yet still appealing guy voices I've read in quite a while — and this is coming from someone who doesn't typically like 1st-person teen guy POVs. It's difficult for me to find books with a male teen narrator where I'm interested in what they're saying and can connect to them on some level, and I feel like Trish Doller really accomplished that with Travis. He's a flawed character, to be sure; his behaviour's less than ethical at times, he shows spurts of temper, and though he recognizes he has some psychological issues, he's not quite ready yet to take the step of admitting he needs help. And yet despite these flaws, there's something very attractive about him. I like his honesty, and the way he doesn't take flack from people. 

I feel like he wants to be a better person, and he realizes that he's a better person when he's around Harper, so he wants to be with her. It's neat that we get to be inside Travis' head and see him starting to fall for Harper and care about someone in a way he hasn't before. As for Harper, I appreciated that she stood up for herself and didn't let him walk over her. I think they're good for each other — Travis is pretty bitter and jaded at the beginning, and as Harper softens him up he starts to become more hopeful. She seems like a steady girl who will keep him grounded. Paige provides a nice foil for Harper, since Travis feels very differently about each of them.


Travis' dad is a very generic, "All American" sports dude. He doesn't ever really venture out of cliche, but he's obviously intended to be disliked — and he certainly succeeds at serving that purpose. Basically, he's one of those really irritating dads who want to live vicariously through their kid, and want to see their kid do well so they can be hotshots. He reminded me a lot of the jock's dad in The Breakfast Club, who's pressuring his son all the time. In short, he's a jerk.

In contrast, Travis' mom actually cares about her son, and it's really sweet to see that. I like that he's standing up for his mom, and that they're getting to know each other better after so many years of her sitting on the sidelines while his dad railed at him. 

It's clear that Travis had a strong connection with Charlie (a fellow Marine and friend who was killed) and that their friendship was very important to him. We don't see that kind of emotional bond very often with male characters (at least, not in YA), so it was refreshing to see that level of connection here.

Axis 2. Premise/plot

There isn't much action happening here, but it's quite short and surprisingly readable — I breezed through it in just a couple of days. It could have been a little more dramatic in places (for instance, the PTSD could have been amped up) and I wish a few of the storylines had been more fleshed out. I never felt like we had a good grip on Travis' relationship with his brother Ryan, so I would have liked to have seen more of that (Ryan just seems to get dropped out of the story after a certain scene). More information about the political side of things in Afghanistan would also have been interesting, although obviously that isn't the point of this book. Rather, it's all about Travis' recovery and his emotional healing process, and that is done really well.

In terms of the ending, things wrapped up awfully fast, with a lot being resolved within just the last few chapters, and I think it could have been stretched out a bit more. It seemed too neat and easy a conclusion, with a couple of "heart-to-heart" conversations that dipped into cheesy/sappy. The closing letter was a nice touch, though. While the ending is hopeful, it left me feeling sad in some ways, too. Overall, it's a kind of bittersweet book, not entirely uplifting — Charlie's dead at the beginning and so obviously he's still dead at the end. I was glad that Travis winds up in a better place emotionally, though.

Axis 3. Writing Style

Trish Doller's ear for the male teen voice is impressive. A lot of female authors writing YA novels with male perspectives don't succeed at this aspect, but the way Travis talks and thinks seems quite "guy-like". Most of the dialogue is authentic, and Doller does not shy away from coarse language/references and distasteful jokes in some situations (for example, when Travis is hanging out with his Marine pals). While crude conversation isn't something I really enjoy, I can appreciate that it feels real.
 

Axis 4. Psychological Accuracy

Travis' main psychological problem is quite obvious: post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). He displays some of the classic symptoms, such as nightmares/difficulty sleeping, startling easily (gunshots set him off), flashbacks, and a dislike of talking about his time spent in Afghanistan. These symptoms fit quite neatly with the DSM-IV criteria. 

In addition to these, he exhibits signs of psychosis in the form of hallucinations — usually of Charlie. Apparently it's not unusual to experience psychotic symptoms along with PTSD, so this is also in line with research on trauma. 

It's interesting that we're shown a little of how another soldier has reacted differently. Kevlar turns to alcohol and thrill-seeking; he wants an adrenaline rush all the time, the kind that he got in Afghanistan and doesn't get anymore. Adrenaline seems to act similarly to an addictive substance for some individuals. I suspect these are also signs of PTSD — indeed, the upcoming DSM-V has added "reckless or self-destructive behavior" to the list. 

I would have liked to have seen the stigma of mental health issues, especially in the military, discussed a little more. It's touched on slightly (in particular, Travis states, "The evaluation is also supposed to gauge our mental wellness, but that's a joke. We say everything is okay because the fastest way to wreck your career is to admit it's not.") but not addressed in detail. I also wish we'd gotten a glimpse of Travis' therapy, but it's just mentioned at the very end in passing.

 
Validity Score: How psychologically accurate was Something Like Normal?

Axis 5. Miscellaneous

I liked that it's not too preachy, and that the author isn't taking a strong political stand here. As I mentioned earlier, politics don't play a big role, but when they do surface they aren't handled in a black-and-white kind of way. 

A couple of the blurbs on the back of the book use the word "unflinching," which makes it sound like it could be gritty and violent. It's emotionally tough and depressing, definitely, and feels like this is something that someone who's come back from Afghanistan would experience, but there's nothing really graphic in here at all. In fact, I think the "grit" factor could even have been raised a bit more (although I wouldn't want it to degenerate into gratuitous violence).
 

Patient shares symptoms with: BADD by Tim Tharp, The Things a Brother Knows by Dana Reinhardt, Purple Heart by Patricia McCormick

Patient's statement:

I lift my beer cup for a drink. Dirt fills the lines of my hand, and my fingers are stained with blood. The cup slips from my grasp, splashing beer across the top of the table. Paige jumps off Ryan's lap, shrieking something at me, but I don't understand what she's saying. My chest is tight and I'm having trouble breathing.

I have to get out of here.
 

Diagnosis: 4 shooting stars. This is definitely a good book to check out if you're interested in PTSD or soldiers' reactions to war, or if you're looking for a distinctive and sympathetic male teen narrator. It doesn't bring anything really novel to the subjects of war and trauma, but it excels in characterization and relationships.

This book counts towards my goals for the Debut Author challenge, the Just Contemporary challenge and the New Adult reading challenge.

Note: This book contains some coarse language/references and sexual content. 

Also, I interviewed Trish Doller earlier this month! 

For more information about PTSD, see here.

Guest Post: Where Real Meets Unreal

I'm happy to welcome Dr. Sarah Fine, author of the upcoming YA novel Sanctum, back to the blog for another Psychtember guest post! (You can read Sarah's guest post from last year here.)

Where Real Meets Unreal: Characters’ Reactions to Trauma in YA Speculative Fiction

When I was in the early stages of writing SANCTUM (which comes out only a few weeks from now! October 16^th! Yipes!), I made a decision: The protagonist, Lela, had to be a tough, scrappy fighter, someone who could believably sneak her way into hell and battle whatever she came up against. Out of that decision blossomed Lela’s past, which is marked by abuse and loss. But … as a psychologist who’s worked with kids who’ve been through some pretty tough stuff, I couldn’t give Lela that kind of history without consequences for her as a character. It left her wounded. Vulnerable. In need of some healing even though she couldn’t yet ask for it.

Basically, I created a character who exhibits many symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), though in the contemporary urban fantasy world of SANCTUM, it is never called exactly that. But if we consider the formal diagnostic criteria in the DSM-IV, Lela’s experience definitely meets Criterion A (a trauma which involved a threat to her “physical integrity” and her own helpless reaction to it), Criterion B (re-experiencing of the trauma; I’m trying not to spoil things so I won’t get specific), Criterion C (at least three symptoms of avoidance/numbing of responsiveness), and Criterion D (at least two symptoms of hyperarousal, things like exaggerated startle response and hypervigilance to threats) for PTSD. The trauma occurs two years prior to the start of the story, and the symptoms have dogged her ever since. How they impact her actions and relationships—and how she evolves as a result of what she goes through in the dark city beyond the Suicide Gates—is a significant part of her development as a character throughout the series.

In fantasy, there’s often not a lot of room for formal diagnostic talk or labels, which is something you see more often in contemporary YAs like Wintergirls, Hold Still, Willow, and Life Is But A Dream. A few contemps, such as Compulsion, are specifically about a mental illness but don’t necessarily label it. A notable exception is Jackie Morse Kessler’s fascinating fantasy series about the Riders of the Apocalypse, in which several of the characters have diagnosable disorders, including anorexia and self-harm (which is a nonspecific symptom of several different disorders, actually).

But usually, in speculative fiction, we don’t see this so much. Considering the occurrence of mental illness in adolescents (1 in 5!), you might think we would, but the sci-fi/fantasy genres tend to have a different focus. The big exception here, however, is reactions to trauma. Which makes sense, because the characters regularly go through terrifying, life-threatening things. In fact, I might argue that we don’t see truly impairing reactions to traumatic events in YA sci-fi/fantasy/dystopians as often as you might expect, given what authors (including myself …) put their characters through. I mean, there aren’t a ton of studies on how frequently PTSD occurs after a traumatic event, but in a study of folks in Manhattan after 9/11, it turned out well over 50% had at least one identifiable symptom of PTSD in the 5-8 weeks afterward. In other words, it’s pretty common to experience some lingering effects after something that scary.

The Marbury Lens is all about what could be considered an acute stress reaction (ASR) but is not at all a clinical examination of it (because it’s A LOT more complex and wild than that). And in Insurgent, Tris exhibits several clearly identifiable symptoms of Acute Stress Disorder, the only thing she could really be diagnosed with so shortly after a trauma (PTSD can only be diagnosed a minimum of one month after the trauma). She has some re-experiencing of the event, avoidance of things that remind her of it, and symptoms of increased emotional arousal. HOWEVER … she doesn’t exhibit any dissociative symptoms (that I could detect), so she doesn’t actually meet formal criteria for the disorder. That doesn’t mean she isn’t deeply affected by what happens at the end of Divergent, though.

In Catching Fire and Mockingjay, Katniss experiences debilitating symptoms of PTSD (so do a few of the other characters). In reading those books, I really felt like Suzanne Collins captured how persistent and crippling those symptoms could be. I appreciated how, in books that portray incredible brutality and violence, she did not shrink from showing the severe and lasting effects of those things on the characters. It wasn’t like they got out unscathed—quite the contrary. They (most of them, at least) were not destroyed by their experiences, but they were changed by them, and not in a good, healthy way. Despite that, they persisted, and in my opinion, there’s true heroism and bravery in that alone.

What are some other fantasy or sci-fi books you’ve read that cover the characters’ reactions to traumatic events? Are there any that strike you as being particularly well done? Have you read books where you wonder how the character manages to endure intense trauma and come away seemingly unscathed? Where do you think this type of thing—true PTSD or any other mental disorder—fits within the scope, plots, etc. of non-realistic/contemporary YA fiction?

Sarah Fine got her doctorate in clinical psychology and specializes in working with children and their families. Her YA urban fantasy debut, SANCTUM, will be published on October 16th (Marshall Cavendish Children's Books/Amazon Children's Publishing). She is represented by Kathleen Ortiz at New Leaf Literary. Her blog, The Strangest Situation, is about the (messy, awesome, blurred, thrilling) intersection of those two endeavors.

Thanks so much, Sarah, for this insightful analysis of trauma portrayals in YA fantasy and sci-fi! Readers, what are your thoughts on this topic? How would you respond to the questions Sarah raises?