As you can probably tell based on my previous literary choices, non-fiction/memoirs are not typically what I go after. I’m drawn towards fiction because of the “space” I have with it. When reading a non-fiction text everything is set in stone, everything is real. I like tragic fiction (and fiction in general) because it’s fiction, what happens in the book hasn’t actually happened in real life, and you have space for imagination and interpretation. Despite my dislike of non-fiction, I decided it was time to spice things up a bit.

Derailed on the Bipolar Express is about Joie Edson and her two sons with bipolar disorder. Edson tells stories about her sons, their manic episodes, and how their mental state and physical actions affect her life, her son’s life, and other people that she and her sons have met along the way.

One of my favorite things in this book was after Edson shared an example of one of her son’s manic episodes. Edson asks you as a reader to keep an open mind, she asks that you not judge her or her sons, she reminds you that they are people, real people, they have lives, and flaws, and good days, and bad days. This small portion of the book is what kept me going, it made me feel something in my gut or my heart or my brain that just screamed “Keep going! Keep reading!” Something else I really love about this book is how honest Edson is talking about the different hospitals and mental health centers and state facilities that she has gone through with her children. Edson describes horrific events and sights she has seen through her journey dealing with her son’s mental health, and the loop-holes she has had to jump through.

Although I loved that Edson shared her story, I dislike the lack of variety in her writing, she constantly repeats sentences or phrases words in a way that made her writing less enjoyable and more “slow”. The repetition and lack of variety in her sentences wouldn’t have been an issue but, the way Edson’s words flow, they are thoughtful and precise, she tells her story calmly and slowly so you can absorb all the information (which I really loved because I find it difficult to process information sometimes), but by moving so “slow,” mixed with the repetition and lack of variety you can tell Edson’s main purpose in life was not being a writer. Another part of the book that pushed me away was when Edson would to skip/skim over parts of her life, or mention events before giving backstory. For example, “Birdman”. Birdman was something that one of her sons made up, Edson began a story mentioning Birdman without telling readers who Birdman was, at first I thought I had missed a page or skipped a line or two but, a page or two after she explains who birdman is and how Birdman helped her son through a difficult time.

In the end, I really did love this book, I think it was both personal and impersonal,  and for the most part easy to follow. This was a good story to hear, and I would recommend this to anyone who thinks they would be able to handle listening to/about the manic episodes of Edson’s son and the effect they had on her and her life.

 

If you are interested in purchasing this book you can buy it at Barns and Noble or Amazon