This book has just been given the esteemed title of being Indie Reader Approved by top industry professionals and considered by them to be “not merely a great indie book—but a great book, period.”
It would take me forever to explain every quirk that accompanies this kooky noggin, but there are some that stand out as having the potential to be problematic for me or those around me. Some are going to be obvious. For example, I’m forgetful. Duh. My daughter calls me “the Forgetter” and is constantly making sure I keep up with everything she brings home from school…“Here, Mom…sign this…I have a test on this tomorrow…I need to bring this library book back on Thursday”…blah, blah, blah. I’m actually thankful, because if I had the extra cash, I would hire an assistant. But I have Willow, who’s saving me at least a hundred bucks a day. Unfortunately she’s not around me at all times, so on occasion, I’ll have a “forgetter” moment like the following doozy.
Our good friends next door, Ken and Becky, aka Babs, were having their annual St. Patrick’s Day party. It was getting late, and another of our neighbors, Eunice, was getting ready to walk to her house, which was just across the street. Eunice has to be at least ninety years old. She claims to be in her sixties, but if she’s in her sixties, I’m a freaking fetus, and I’m not sure she wasn’t drinking shots at the party, so, between the two, I told her I would watch her walk home to make sure she arrived safely. She thanked me and told me it wasn’t necessary, but I insisted. In the meantime, Babs’ daughter, my good friend Erica, had walked outside. Eunice wasn’t even halfway across the street before Erica whispered to me to join her on the side of the house for some adventure or another, and I forgot all about poor old Eunice, shuffling away. I turned and skipped around to Erica. It was probably a good minute later before my stomach fell when I remembered I was supposed to be watching Eunice walk home. I gasped and ran to the front of the house, stopping at the street just as Eunice reached her front door and turned to wave at me. She had no idea I had been MIA for most of her journey. I felt terrible for forgetting about her, but mostly I just couldn’t believe it took her that long to cross the street!
The forgetter moment that stands out to me as most publicly embarrassing was the time I forgot the gas nozzle was still in my tank as I drove off. I swear, it was the most wretched sound I have ever heard in my life. The squeal of metal on metal, and then a huge pop as the nozzle was yanked violently out of the pump (apparently a safety feature, but too dramatic for my taste). I ducked, waiting for the explosion. When I finally felt like it was OK to sit up, I looked around at everyone gathered around my car and the newly deformed gas nozzle and pump. You could tell that the onlookers were dumbfounded by my stupidity, and I found myself stricken with the giggles. Fortunately, my insurance covered the damage. Unfortunately, one of the witnesses happened to be the fraternity brother of a guy I was seeing, and the entire WSU campus knew the story before I ever arrived at my first class that morning.
Did you also know that if you forget to pay a speeding ticket you WILL get arrested—in front of your kids, the neighbors—the dog—and anyone else who happens to be there? True story. And the thing is, Stacey Turis has a million of them, and she imparts these and other nuggets of wisdom to offer others suffering from ADHD some hope in knowing that they are not alone.
A belly-laugh inducing romp through a life so convoluted and chaotic you know it has to be true, Stacey Turis’s debut gives a voice to the genius yet tormented souls suffering from giftedness, ADHD, or a combination of both (a condition known as twice-exceptional) who are too afraid to speak.
Chronicling her life journey from a state of self-loathing to one of self-acceptance, the stories flow timelessly, always incorporating the resulting lessons and reflections gleaned from each adventure. Including both the tragic, stomach churning details of a horrifically abusive time in her childhood to comic adventures such as deciding to dye her hair plum the day before an important presentation to a bank only to have it turn out purple, her life has never suffered from a dull moment. Though she often thought Karma was the reason she found herself in so many “pickles,” a friend explained to her that when you put yourself out in the world more than anyone else, it’s really just a matter of statistics. Lucky for Turis and the rest of us, putting herself out there all these years allows us all to look at life through her pair of less-struggle-more-sass glasses.
With over three hundred million people suffering from ADHD worldwide and experiencing many of the same debilitating symptoms, Turis’ goal is to share her experiences so that others afflicted can rid themselves of the shame of hiding their behavior. A rip-roaring and bracingly honest look at a twice-exceptional life, Here’s to Not Catching Our Hair on Fire: An Absent-Minded Tale of Life with Giftedness and Attention Deficit—Oh Look! A Chicken! turns the rational on its head in a rollicking depiction of a life that seems to be constantly going off the rails.