I counted Rikki's storms just like I counted God's.

A Quiet Storm by Rachel Howzell Hall

Spoiler Alert: Plot Summary
A Quiet Storm is the story of the Moore sisters, two African-American women growing up in Los Angeles in the 70s/80s. Stacy (short for Anastasia) Moore is a de facto caretaker and off-and-on babysitter to her sister, Rikki (short for Arika) as they try to navigate from their teenage years to adulthood. Rikki struggles with mental illness, though the exact nature of her trouble is not clear, since her parents (her mother, in particular) is averse to seeking help. They try other methods (like that good old tried and true exorcism, for example) and eventually Rikki seeks help in her college years behind her mother's back. There are good spells and bad spells for Rikki, who seems to suffer from manic depression, bipolar, or a bit of both. She is prescribed lithium, among other drugs, but she has a variety of challenging side effects from many of the drugs, so she frequently stops taking them. Stacy is caught in the middle: largely invisible to her parents and completely beholden to Rikki's needs. As the two women mature, and even marry, Rikki's issues in trying to navigate her life fade, then reappear, and Stacy's life is generally the one to suffer, in addition to Rikki's herself. Stacy's husband, Eric, tires of coming second to Rikki, and they separate. Rikki's husband, Matt, eventually disappears, after she's heard rumors of him cheating on her. At first, we think perhaps he has actually disappeared, but it soon becomes apparent that Rikki was involved. Stacy defends Rikki for some time, thinking her capable of many things, but not murder. But when Rikki's suicide note comes in the mail, Stacy realizes that Rikki poisoned Matt and hid his body. It's all revealed when Matt's body is found, and the world reels from this news which is surprising to everyone but Stacy. In the end, Stacy is grieved by the loss of her sister, but also relieved by the release of caring for her. 
Spoiler Over: Continue Here

This book was good. It wasn't quite all the way to the 'best books I've read list', but it definitely carved out a place for itself in my heart, and I'm really glad that it exists. A few brief thoughts:  

I do not believe in snow!
I knew I would like Stacy when she says early on in the book that even though she lives in L.A., 

"I was a child who believed in snow." 

I love a good snow girl, myself. 

Things Stacy and I have in common
Though in some ways I have more in common with Rikki than with Stacy, I enjoyed the various points of alignment that I had with the protagonist. 

• Miss Mary Mack - Stacy plays 'Miss Mary Mack' with her sister in the closet during thunderstorms, and it reminded me of playing the game with my friends in elementary school. 

• Nanas and lithium - Stacy and Rikki have a Nana who they know is not totally mentally sound, and who is eventually institutionalized. From that point on, she's overmedicated and essentially disconnected from the world. While my grandmother was able to function and navigate the world outside of an institution, she had rough patches and her own mental particularities, and I wonder to what extent our privilege, our whiteness, our relative wealth, or our family's protectiveness all acted to keep her from a different life, one more like Stacy's Nana. I'm deeply grateful that I was able to love my grandma and she was able to live her life the way she did, and I hope that everyone can have that same right as we move forward as a society.

• Comparative literature - Stacy is a Comp Lit major in school, because obviously it's the best major. (#notbiased)

• Omnivores - Stacy is constantly dealing with and reeling from Rikki's latest swing in attitude and mood, and at one point, Rikki is living with her but decides she no longer wants to eat any meat. Stacy plays along for a little while, but eventually decides she has no desire to be a vegetarian, and she cooks herself and her mom a nice juicy burger. I respect vegetarians and vegans everywhere, but I have to say I loved this moment. 

POC at private schools
When Rikki's on her upswings, she's a star student, and she gets accepted to private school. Hearing about her experience there reminded me of the complexities of navigating Breakthrough students toward private/independent institutions, which tend to be largely white: 

Rikki fit in and stood out in her new environment. She was black. She was pretty. She was sassy like Nell Carter or Florida Evans, but not disrespectful like Florence the Maid or Wilona the Neighbor. Smart, but not Harriet Tubman/Oprah Winfrey start-a-race-war smart. She was black, but not too...black. So they liked her.

What a challenging line to straddle. 

We're getting there. 
While I am always glad to see more works of fiction dealing with mental health and raising awareness for the full personhood of people with any number of afflictions, reading this book made me feel a little like this, the SEPTA motto for Philly's public transit system. In some ways, it's just a reflection of the book being a little dated already (published in the early 2000s, referencing decades prior). In any case, I would love for us to be able to just speed up the timeline and raise awareness for all populations around mental health like yesterday. Here are a few bones I'd like to pick: 

Psychiatrist ≠ Therapist
Some psychiatrists do talk therapy with their patients, but in today's society (and in my experience) this is rare, and is very much not the norm. In general, psychiatrists deal with medication management and are the actual prescribers (and medical doctors) in the mental health field. Therapists can have a variety of different backgrounds (social work, PhD in psych, etc.) and cannot prescribe medication. There is a marvelous collection of supports that each brings to the table, but it bugs me to no end when people use the terms interchangeably as if the two are synonymous. It's a lot of work to find people to help you navigate your own brain, and I guess I just want people to see how hard you have to work to find your team. It's not a once and done kind of thing, generally.

"You can't inherit something like that."
At one point, Rikki's trying to get pregnant (and sort of not telling her husband, which is a separate issue) and she tells Stacy that maybe she shouldn't get pregnant, because what if she passed her brain on to her children. Stacy comforts her and says 'you can't inherit something like that', and I wanted to throw my hands in the air and raise alarm bells, because you most definitely can. I'm not saying that Rikki shouldn't be empowered to make whatever decision she likes around procreating, but it's SO important, especially in this day and age, that we as women make thoughtful decisions with full information as we attempt to reproduce. 

Title Possibilities

• Stacy: I counted Rikki's storms just like I counted God's.

• On Rikki and Stacy: You two are always keeping secrets from the rest of the world. 

• Stacy, on Rikki: Nothing she does really shocks me anymore. 

Lines I liked

• A draft lifted the curtain's hem the way the wind lifts a lady's dress: innocent, but voyeuristic.

• I added that comment to the other bones of contention that I had collected over the years. There were so many, I almost had a skeleton. 

New Words or References
buppies - a young, upwardly mobile black professional. [1980–85, Amer.; b(lack) u(rban) p(rofessional), on the model of yuppie

Porcelana - skin lightening cream

Well, this has been a short and perhaps not so sweet post, but a good addition to the collection, methinks. I'm off to metamorphose and see what it is that I become. Join me if you dare.

Keep each other safe! Keep faith. Good night.