One Woman's Writing Retreat: Book Review

Short of a Picnic
By Eric Shapiro

Review by Jillian Leslie

For people who don't suffer with mental illness, reading about it or seeing a film on the subject can seem, simultaneously, disturbing and spellbinding. From a safe distance, mentally healthy folks (whatever mentally healthy means) safely can observe, without having to be directly involved with, the person who's exhibiting odd behavior. If the topic gets too heavy-duty or too uncomfortable, the solution is to walk away.

The sad fact: Mental illness always has carried a stigma, as if it were contagious. The mentally ill, over the centuries, have been shunned, locked away, and mistreated. Having someone in the family with mental illness, by some, is considered to be shameful. And heaven forbid, if this person decides to go for therapy! Such a person mars the image of the "perfect" family and becomes fodder for tongue clucking and whispering during family gatherings.

("Oh, poor Marc and Tina! Their son, Bob, you know, isn't quite right in the head. Such a shame! Such a waste!") As if living with mental illness isn't enough, these folks are taunted by cruel neighbors and children ("Moron! Retard!"), and shunned by society in general.  

In literature, mental illness always has carried powerful themes. We shed tears for mentally slow Charlie Gordon while reading about his mental rise and fall in Flowers for Algernon, by Daniel Keyes; we shared Randal P. McMurphy's hatred for icy Nurse Ratched, in Ken Keysey's One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest; and we sympathized with the troubled siblings' angst in Pat Conroy's Beach Music and Wally Lamb's I Know This Much is True. 

Because of the stigma mental illness carries, writing fiction about it is tough. Since many people feel uncomfortable with the subject, garnering sympathy for these characters as protagonists can be difficult. Finding a well-written book about the subject is as welcome as a lighthouse beacon in the fog.

I found such a book.

 Writer Eric Shapiro has written an amazing book of short stories called Short of A Picnic. Eric is no stranger to mental illness. He suffers from O.C.D. (Obsessive-compulsive disorder) and acknowledges, "I'm everywhere in the stories. More than I'm probably comfortable admitting outright. Every character shares an imaginary bloodline with me."

In this book you'll find twelve short stories. Very short stories. A few are no more than a handful of pages. Initially, as I thumbed through the book, I wondered how Eric could immerse the reader into the hearts and minds of his characters with such few pages. It didn't seem possible.

My doubts were quelled from the get-go by the unexpected, off-the-wall hook in his first story, Carl, a story that grabbed me by the gizzard and shook me to attention. From the first paragraph, I was swept into the dizzy world of one man's schizophrenia. The story seemed so realistic, I felt as though I could hear the clicks and beeps in Carl's skull, as he sat in a booth of a two-bit greasy spoon, espousing his perceived world truisms to all within earshot. When I finished the story, I wanted more--much more. I worried about Carl. I wanted to know what he did with the rest of his day. I wanted to know if he'd be all right. All this from only five pages!

In other stories you'll attend a party and meet some people with social anxiety disorder; you'll feel the helplessness and despair of Alzheimer's disease; you'll get a ringside seat to the extreme frustration of living with obsessive-compulsive disorder; and, you'll feel exasperation for a character who lives with Tourette's syndrome. Twelve short stories; twelve unique takes on various mental challenges; twelve slices of life, each packing a king-sized wallop with every page turn.

Eric's stories shine light on a variety of mental illnesses with jaw-dropping frankness, razor wit, emotional honesty, and welcome neutrality--never whitewashing the seriousness of the illnesses, never judging his characters, never promising candy cane and rainbow endings. Best of all, he doesn't condescend to his readers; instead, he let's us draw our own conclusions and learn our own lessons. His sense of word economy and clear phrases ring clearly and purposefully. Eric has a keen sense of word play; he mambos with the language, making proficient use of each word, delighting and surprising the reader at unexpected times. Each story boasts lungs and liver, heart and bones. The character I met along the journey still live in my memories. 

Frankly, this is the best work of fiction I've ever read about mental illness, not just because it's exquisitely written but because Eric exposes the reality of mental illness candidly and passionately, helping to educate and to erase the "untouchable" stigma. That's quite a feat, a feat he accomplishes to a tee.

 In Eric's interview, [soon to appear at Everyday Warriors.com], I asked him what he hoped readers would take from his book. He said, "Making people think is an ample goal, but hitting people on a gut visceral level is much more appealing to me. Because once you've stirred people up that way, you have a greater chance of leaving some kind of mark; hopefully a positive and progressive one." Eric's words did just that to this reader. I empathized with these characters and I wanted to learn more about these illnesses. Eric's book is a mind-opener. That's a great gift to us all.

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