I am a firm believer that the best writing – or at least the most entertaining writing to read – comes from authors who hold nothing back. Those that dig so deep that they must’ve felt like they were laying in the gutter after they poured out their words are my favourites. In every day we disappear, Angela Long proves herself to be one of those writers. When she listed the lovers she’s had, I applauded her honesty. When she shared her inability to leave a toxic relationship, I felt her pain. Long spares nothing. It is refreshing to experience in the often politically correct world we live in.
It was glorious to travel the world with Long from the coziness of my reading chair. I could almost feel the chaos of India as we meandered across the country, from Delhi to the Zanskar mountain range and a dozen other places. I felt at home with Long in Montreal. Her time in Italy has me seriously contemplating moving there. And northern BC sounds like another planet, albeit a fascinating one
The majority of every day we disappear takes place in India. For some of her travels through the country, Long enlists the services of a travel husband, a “male tourist who understands that India is, for the most part, still a world run by men, and who wanted to help.” Long’s travel husbands allowed her to feel more at ease than if she toured solo, making the stares of millions of men more bearable.
Long met some unforgettable people during her travels. Amma stands out; a woman intent on “hugging away the poverty of love.” Since 1971, Amma has hugged more than thirty million people including Oprah, Jim Carrey, and Sharon Stone. When Long had her turn, it was obvious she received a hug she would never forget. Another standout, Dr. Louie immediately had my respect. Injection drug use and HIV/AIDS is so rampant in India that the lone doctor from Canada went to India to teach acupuncture that reduces the withdrawal symptoms of substance abuse. She conducts the training in a barely lit room with no running water and plastic lawn chairs for furniture. Hero.
I know a book is a keeper when it makes me cry. The kind of tears don’t matter – happy, sad, funny, it’s all good! It doesn’t happen very often, maybe one in twenty books. every day we disappear did just that. When Long described the anxiety of the first contact she had with her birth mother – a phone call at the age of twenty-three – tears streamed down my face. When Long shared the highs and lows of falling in love with her now-husband, my cheeks were wet. Long delivers big time on heart-tugging content in this highly-recommended read.
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