Another weekend passes. I’ve done some more reading of Norma Fox Mazer’s What I Believe; but I still haven’t quite finished it yet. I actually started it weeks ago, but put it down because it was depressing. It still is, so I’m not sure why I chose past tense there. It has no connection to what I normally read. No computer or technology connection. I had Lisa get it from the library for me because it looked like it might help with the “This I believe” sort of lesson plan that we need for the site. I knew back then that it didn’t fit; but I hate to not finish a book unless there’s a really very good reason.

Maybe it was the style that kept me reading the book. The School Library Journal review on Amazon does compare it Sonya Sones’s What My Mother Doesn’t Know (2001) and Margaret Peterson Haddix’s Don’t You Dare Read This, Mrs. Dunphrey (1996), both of which I have read; so maybe it’s not that strange that I’m reading it. But I wonder how much of it was the content and emotion. The protagonist, Vicki, struggles to deal with the fallout of her father’s lost job and his depression, the family’s related move into a small apartment, and their ongoing financial issues.

I’m not sure why I’ve given to read of folks with depression and other woes. Misery loves company I guess. Sometimes I wonder if there are any truly real books though. There must always be some knowledge born of the woe, some lesson learned in the process of facing so many challenges. Reality, however, can often be cruel and mean for no reason whatsoever and with no related lessons other than that the world is a harsh place. So I’m sure that no matter what the many challenges that the protagonist faces in What I Believe, things will turn out. They always turn out it seems, even when real life rarely does.