“The true story of a survivor who refused to be silenced.” This quote sits on the front cover of Anderson’s newest verse memoir titled: SHOUT. I had high hopes going into this book because of my love for her fist novel Speak. I must admit that it fell short for me. It was a quick read, but not all parts fit seamlessly together. At times I was bored, looking for more of her experience to be explicitly stated. Instead what was given was a chronicle of her family life from early adolescence through adulthood. She does draw clear connections between her works of fiction and her own life. Many of the poems surround her experiences as a guest speaker in schools. I think fans of her fiction may enjoy the connections provided throughout the verse, but others will be less impressed.

The following is an excerpt that struck me as one of the more poignant:

“diagnosis”

I knew that if I fell and scraped my knee
ejected headfirst through a windshield
chopped off a finger or lost a leg to a shark
I’d apply pressure to stop the bleeding
use towels, blankets, Goodwill sweaters
whatever it took to start clotting,
slow the fluid loss
I’d close my wounds with fishhooks and twine
or a stapler or a nail gun
welding torch to reconnect my spine
I’d knit skin grafts, if necessary.
After I pulled myself back together
I’d need a doctor cuz my dark corners
would be invaded
by bacteria, viruses, parasites, and more,
infections
vectors of disease, some lethal, some merely
debilitating, chronic cripplers.
I knew that. I paid attention in health.

But I had never seen a first aid kit for the spirit
or heard the word “trauma” to describe
the way I’d hide, slide through the days unseen
or scream into the pillows
at the bottom of my closet
door closed even though no one was home.
Rape wounds deeply, splits open
your core with shrapnel.
The stench of the injury attracts maggots
which hatch into clouds of doubt and self-loathing
the dirt you feel inside you nourishes
anxiety, depression, and shame
poisoning
your blood, festering
in your brain until you will do anything to stop
feeling the darkness rising within
anything
to stop feeling–

untreated pain
is a cancer of the soul
that can kill you