Issue 014: Books That Have Saved My Life

reflecting on the healing power of art in our lives

I recently listened to a podcast discussion between the actors Harris Dickinson and Andrew Garfield. In their discussion, Dickinson says to Garfield, regarding acting: “...we’re not saving lives, we’re not moving mountains with what we do. It’s obviously storytelling and the arts [are] incredibly important…but, we also have to understand what we’re doing in comparison to other people’s work…” 

It’s easy to nod in agreement with Dickinson. When someone has a medical emergency on an airplane, they’re not shouting out, “Is there an actor on the plane?!” Actors and artists are not the people doing chest compressions, administering life-saving medication, or performing cardiothoracic surgeries. They’re playing pretend and getting paid millions for it, that’s what they’re doing. Actors and the art they make can make us laugh, make us think, expand our worldview, and at times even whisk us away from the harsh realities of life. But does their work save lives?

Andrew Garfield, a modern-day philosopher who happens to also act, responds to Dickinson: “I think about the amount of times my life has been saved by a piece of music or by a play... My brother is a lung doctor…and [we] talk about this a lot…look at what happens when a government cuts arts funding for young people…the culture gets sick ... it gets even sicker than it already is…soul sick.” He’s not disagreeing with the bottom line that film and art are not industries that literally save lives. But he’s onto something here, and that is the truth that our cultures and even our souls thrive when they have access to the arts. 

“We don't literally save lives but…” Garfield says, and then he goes on to talk about I Heart Huckabees, a movie that saved him, in a sense. “It’s not one of those films you’d expect would stitch up a broken heart,” he says, “[but] it was tying me to something universal: heartbreak is one of the costs of being alive.”

And again, I find myself nodding. Okay, Andrew, I see your point. Because, I, too, can think about the times my life has been saved and my heart stitched up by a piece of music or a play. Or by a book.

1994: The first time a book saved my life, I was nine years old, and my family had just moved from my childhood home in metro-Detroit to a rural town three hours away. I missed my old neighborhood friends, teachers, and the boxes of books I had to give away when we downsized for our move. Around that time, a relative gifted me a copy of Lois Lowry’s The Giver, a book that was both dystopian fiction and a coming-of-age story. The book’s protagonist, Jonas, is given the role of Receiver of Memory, and in this role he would be the sole person to carry memories of pain, but also memories of joy, color, and music. It’s not surprising now that a book about a dystopian society and a child who was different than everyone in his community struck such a chord with the new kid in town. The Giver was also one of the first books I remember reading that had an ambiguous ending, not wrapped up in a neat bow like so many children’s stories. Perhaps this open-endedness is what I needed to cling to, along with the hope and wonder that come with it.

1997: Two posters graced my bedroom walls when I was twelve years old, and they were both Leonardo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet from Titanic. I watched Titanic three times on the silver screen, each time subjecting myself to three hours of melodrama knowing full well how it was going to end: the ship would sink and Jack Dawson, a.k.a. Leo, would die. And no matter how hard Celine Dion sang her heart out during the end credits, I couldn’t fathom that my heart actually would go on. I couldn’t bear the fact that a sweet guy from Chippewa Falls had to freeze in the icy Atlantic all because his girlfriend didn’t invite him onto the floating debris that obviously could have fit two people on it. Things I also couldn’t bear: the fact that my crush didn’t know I existed and the hard truth that my best friend had totally abandoned me, trading our friendship for a Tommy Hilfiger sweater vest and a seat at the cool lunch table. 

In addition to Titanic, the art carrying me through this emotionally tumultuous time included the Spice World album, Baz Luhrmann’s Romeo + Juliet (because, Leonardo DiCaprio), and my favorite book: Pride & Prejudice. On Friday nights while my ex-bff was roller skating to Coolio with the in-crowd, I was snuggled up with my dog-eared copy of Austen’s masterpiece. I read and re-read as Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy rode the rollercoaster of unrequited love in a world full of people who didn’t understand them. The story allowed me to escape from the terror of the seventh grade social strata while also feeling relatable at a time when every feeling I had was overwhelming and unreciprocated. Pride & Prejudice healed my pubescent heart by just letting it be and letting it hurt. I only wished I could have tossed a man-sized copy of the book to Jack Dawson so he could float on it for a while—that I could use this book to save him the way it saved me.

2007: In April, for my 22nd birthday, a guy I liked gave me a gift card to Barnes & Noble for the exact cost of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, which was due to release several months later. The gift card came with instructions to call the branch of my choosing and reserve a copy in advance. Three months later, and two months post-college graduation, I was living at my grandparents’ for the summer, mourning the end of my college days, missing my roommates, ticked about being ghosted by the guy, and looking ahead with uncertainty toward a year of student teaching and living at home with my parents again. I brought home my copy of the 759-page tome and read the entire thing in about two days on my grandparents’ couch. I cried as much when beloved characters died as I did when the book was over, simply because it was over. I called my best friend Katie to discuss, and we lamented the ends of the book, the series, and our college careers.

2016: Motherhood + a spouse working at the beck and call of the military + expat life without close friends and family nearby = exhaustion. I tried to read a few parenting books now and then, but I’d always lose interest or fall asleep mid-sentence. Eventually, I missed reading fiction enough that I got some book lists off of the internet and started reading again, squeezing in books during naps or at night while my husband worked and the kids were asleep. I joined a book club with other moms and military spouses, and listening to others’ commentary and giving my own opinions on the books provided as much comfort as the wine and charcuterie plates we demolished at our meetings. For three hours every month, I wasn’t just a mom or a military spouse, but Melissa, a reader and lover of words, someone who could have an intelligent discussion about a shared interest. 

2020: We all faced challenges with the shift to homeschooling. My daughter especially  struggled, constantly crying and reminding me that she didn't like homeschool, that she wanted to return to her other school with her friends. Around eight weeks into our homeschool year, I asked my daughter to write a journal response to What is your favorite thing about school? She wrote that reading was one of her favorite things, and below her journal entry she drew a picture of us reading on my bed together with her two little brothers. I gave her a squeeze and told her that was my favorite part, too. 

That year, we read many books together on my bed, a vessel big enough to carry all of us away from our stress each afternoon. One of my daughter’s favorites was Mrs. Piggle Wiggle; I remember her giggling over the radish cure, laughing and snorting as Mrs. Piggle Wiggle cured kids of their ridiculous behaviors with teeny tiny dishes and a back-talking parrot. Hearing my daughter’s laughter increase with each turn of the page was the balm I needed to know we had made the right choice, that we were going to be okay. It was the books that brought her around that year, the books that held us together.

Over and over again, the right words at the right time have been a healing presence in my life. Just as a surgeon’s hands can skillfully suture a wound closed or medicine can fight  infection, I believe art, and books in particular, can save lives. When was the last time a book saved yours?

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Earlier this month, I had the pleasure of meeting up with my writing group in person. We spent a few lovely days together in rainy San Francisco, talking, laughing, and sharing our stories in person for the first time in nearly 2.5 years. I wrote today’s post in conjunction with the members of my group, inspired by the prompt What’s saving my life right now? Click the links below to read their takes on the prompt.

What’s Saving My Life by Fay Gordon

What’s saving my life right now by Erin Strybis

What’s Saving My Life by Kim Knowle-Zeller

With my Story Squad in Sonoma, CA earlier this month

In Case You Missed It:

a few things I wrote…

• February 13, 2025 marked two years since a deadly shooting at my alma mater, Michigan State University. Here’s a poem I wrote shortly after the shooting.

• If You Give a Mom Leftover Birthday Cake: I shared this one from the IG archive. It’s my take on Laura Numeroff’s wonderful children’s books.

• To celebrate turning 40 this year, I started the FORTYsomething project. You can read the first post here. I’d love for you to join me for honest conversations with women about midlife.

Reading Round-Up:

• The Wedding People by Alison Espach

  Phoebe has hit rock bottom and decides to splurge on herself one last time. The only problem is she’s chosen the same fancy hotel as a bride hosting a week-long wedding extravaganza. Neither woman planned for the other, but they find their lives unavoidably intertwined at huge turning points. I enjoyed the audio version of this story, finding it both funny and tender at turns. (tw: suicidal ideation)

• The Guest List by Lucy Foley
  The bride, the groom, the best man, the bridesmaid…everyone has a story to tell and a past to hide at this wedding off the coast of Ireland. A wonderful mystery, this was a great audiobook listen with a full cast.

• To Free the Captives: A Plea for the American Soul by Tracy K. Smith

  I love memoirs by poets, and this is no exception. I appreciated her urging the reader to truly consider what it means to be freed or free, and what we might do with our position and privilege.

• From Here to the Great Unknown by Lisa Marie Presley & Riley Keough
  Before she died in 2022, Lisa Marie Presley asked her daughter, Riley Keough, to help her write her memoir. This is the result of Riley making good on that promise. From driving golf carts at Graceland to marrying Michael Jackson, Lisa Marie’s life had a lot of adventure. It also held a lot of pain. Through her mother’s tapes and her own reflections, Riley excavates some of those painful memories, sharing them with tenderness and balancing them with joy and light.

• Fire Exit by Morgan Talty

  Charles has been able to watch his daughter, Elizabeth, grow up, but only from his house across the river—Elizabeth has no idea he is her dad. As Charles grapples with whether-or-not to tell Elizabeth the secret he’s carried for her entire life, he also cares for his ailing mother, who suffers from dementia and depression. As he faces the uncertainty of the future, Charles also revisits his past. Is telling the secret really best for everyone? Is that even for him to decide? Fans of The Berry Pickers might like this one.
  

  Looking for more book reviews? Here is a list of my 2024 reads with reviews and affiliate links to purchase through my bookshop.org shop. The links above are also affiliate links and provide a small kickback if you make a purchase after clicking. And I’d love to hear what you’re reading, too! Please share your recommendations in the comments.

Reflection/Journal Prompt:

• Make a list of the books, movies, music, or other art that has saved your life over the years.

• Write about an experience reading the “right words at the right time.” What were the words? Who wrote them? How did they affect you?