Books: By the Light of the Moon

Perhaps it’s because I just finished reading By the Light of the Moon, but right now I think it’s the best Dean Koontz novel I have read. (And I actually did readit, not listen to the audiobook, because it wasn’t available on CD – though I forget how I happened to learn of the book and go find it on the shelf.)

It has a lot of elements that I like to find in books. Besides Koontz’s writing style, which I happen to particularly appreciate, it has suspense and paranormal phenomena (of course – this is a Dean Koontz book), some humor, and a bit of science fiction, including time travel. To round off the genres it borrows from, it even has superheroes (what else do you call people with special abilities who dash to the rescue of people in danger?).

The one thing it doesn’t have, which some of my other favorite Koontz novels do, is a dog. But really, a dog wouldn’t have fit in well with the circumstances of this book. Koontz’s dogs are appealing characters because they acts like real dogs, not people in canine bodies – and a dog with paranormal abilities would be too anthropomorphic.

I also like the fact that there are three primary characters. This means that Koontz can develop them through their interactions with one another, rather than having to rely on the narrator’s omniscience to tell what is going on in the character’s mind. It also allows for greater use of humor, and of characters learning from one another – always an important part of real life.

Books: A Friend Like Henry

I don’t normally take an interest in a book about someone else’s pet. Of course that pet is wonderful to the people who know and love it, and its particular habits and quirks are endearing to them. But I suppose I’m not enough of an animal lover to want to read about the animal whose love is tied up with someone who is a complete stranger to me.

This book didn’t interest me until I notice the word autistic in the subtitle: “The Remarkable True Story of an Autistic Boy and the Dog That Unlocked His World.” We had just gotten our new puppy when I decided to buy the book, and I wondered how she might help Al, even if he is hardly “locked” in his own world the way Dale Gardner was.

Somehow the book got buried in a pile of books, and I just unearthed it recently. I read nearly the whole book Tuesday afternoon and evening, while Al was enjoying music and crafts and other activities at VBS (see my recent post Overnight with Noah). This afternoon I finished it – and managed to choke back some tears near the end.

Thinking of our experiences with Al, I can recognize in this account much of what we dealt with. As his autism is much milder, we never went through the total lack of communication that the Gardners had to deal with. I do remember, though, the terrible frustration both he and I felt when he couldn’t tell me what he wanted, the sense that he was sometimes looking through me instead of at me, his indifference as to what adult took care of him, his unwillingness to get near other children, extreme pickiness in eating, throwing up at will, running around in circles, arm flapping, and so on.

Books: Fatal

When I started listening to this book, my first impression was that it was going to be another screed against big business and toxic waste. (The last audiobook I listened to was Grisham’s The Appeal, regarding which I posted a moderately negative review six weeks ago.) Not counting the prologue (an apparently unrelated incident which is not explained until much later in the book), the novel starts with an accident at a coal mine, prompting concerns of safety violations and hints of possible toxic waste.

Then the book jumps to a separate storyline, regarding the pending approval of a new super-vaccine. Here the apparent villains are those responsible for pushing vaccines on the American public, touting their health benefits and minimizing or denying the risks. There are the drug companies, looking for big profits, doctors who benefit from a cozy relationship with the drug companies, and researchers dependent on grant money (much of it coming from drug companies).

Like David against Goliath, a small group of concerned parents (many of whom have watched their own children suffer terrible diseases – some have even died – after getting routine childhood immunizations) is fighting to make their concerns heard. They aren’t trying to get rid of vaccines, just to educate the public about possible risks, ensure that parents have a choice whether to have their children vaccinated, and push for more thorough research on the long-term effects of vaccinations.

Unlike Grisham’s book, this one was very enjoyable simply as a story. The plot is fast-moving, with a roller coaster of suspense as one new development after another reveals new dangers and new villains. The main characters find themselves in danger, escape in the nick of time, and are promptly back in harm’s way. The characters are well-developed and likable, heroic when needed but hardly without their own failings. There were hints which way the story was going but the end contained some surprises.

The controversy over vaccinations was also handled very well, I thought. Despite my initial concerns that the novel would simply feed widespread suspicion of the medical establishment, later on the perspective seems more nuanced. Vaccines do save a great many lives, the book acknowledges (via consumer advocate Ellen Kroft), and it is hard to argue for curtailing their use in order to prevent a muchsmaller number of children from developing disorders which can’t even be proven conclusively to have any causal connection to the vaccines.

Neurotypical Syndrome

I found a fascinating website today while working on an idea for my next Toastmasters speech. I want to talk about autism, but that’s a pretty broad subject – causes (unknown), diagnosis, typical behaviors, treatment, etc. Then I came across a link to Institute for the Study of the Neurologically Typical.

Neurotypical is a term used to refer to people who do not have autism spectrum disorders – in other words, most of us. People with “high-functioning autism,” especially Asperger’s, object to the idea that they are defective, while we are normal. Rather, we are “typical” – most of us have brains that work a certain way – while theirs work differently. Some of them are perfectly happy with the way their brains work, and think the rest of us are a bit odd.

After all, whether something is considered defective depends on what you consider its purpose to be. When I was a student in Spain, I had the opportunity to tour the Lladró factory. Lladró makes very high quality – and high priced – porcelain figurines. I admired them but could not afford to buy one.

Then we ended our tour at the “seconds” shop. Here they sold the pieces with very minor defects – often so minor that it was hard to spot them – at significantly reduced prices. To a collector, such pieces would be worthless. But for me, the presence of a nearly invisible “defect” meant that I could afford to buy a beautiful figurine. To me the piece isn’t defective at all, as I have no interest in its value as a collectible.

Books: The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time

This book was listed in my favorite book club’s catalog (Quality Paperback Books) for years (I just discovered it’s not anymore), but I always ignored it because of the odd name. It sounded like another of those modern literary novels that critics think are so wonderful but ordinary readers don’t. QPB editors seem to like those kind of books.

Then I read somewhere recently that this book is told from the perspective of a 15-year-old boy who has Asperger’s Syndrome. My nephew has Asperger’s, and my son has mild autism (Asperger’s is considered an autism spectrum disorder), so I naturally have a lot of interest in the perspective of someone like that. When I saw the book on CD in the library, I grabbed it.

And it grabbed me – even before the first sentence. I usually don’t pay much attention to chapter headers, especially when they’re just numeric headings. But when the first words spoken on the CD (after the introductory copyright information) were “Chapter 2,” I knew something interesting was going on. It was a very short chapter, followed by chapter 3, then chapter 5. By chapter 11 I had figured out that he was using only prime numbers (which he had mentioned in chapter 3 that he knows up to seven thousand something), though it wasn’t until chapter 19 that he explained why he likes them so much (they are what is left when all the patterns are removed).

Christopher’s perspective is engaging and fascinating. His explanations make perfect sense – but the world seems so different to him than to most of us. He does not lie – not because it is bad but because the possibility of the infinite number of untrue things one could say overwhelms his brain. He is confused by metaphors, so he does not like them. (He can understand what they are supposed to mean, but having two meanings overlay one another is like listening to two pieces of music at one time, he says.)

Your brain can make a difference

Like any parent, I want to do what I can to help my sons face the challenges of life. I can’t face the challenges for them; I have to look for ways to help them gain the skills, wisdom, and courage they need to face those challenges themselves. For my younger son, who has mild autism, this means dealing with frustration in constructive ways rather than having a meltdown, as well as trying new things (but I don’t want to push him too much and create unnecessary frustration).

Looking for books that might help me help him, I found myself at the Autism Speaks website. I had been there before, I think, but hadn’t spent much time there. (As my son grows and develops, the areas of most need change. It used to be language and social skills; now he does well with language and moderately well with social skills, at least for his age. So what I’m looking for to help him changes year by year.)

This time I somehow came across the Autism Tissue Program. I had long ago signed up to be an organ donor. When I am dead, I will have no use for my body, and if there are parts that can be of benefit to someone else, they are welcome to them. One part I hadn’t expected would be wanted was my brain, as brain transplants are strictly the stuff of science fiction.

But brain tissue is exactly what the Autism Tissue Program needs, because somewhere in the brain is the answer to the puzzle of autism. They particularly want brain tissue from people who had autism, but researchers also needs “normal” brain tissue for comparison purposes, and brain tissue from the family members of people with autism, to better trace autism-related genetic traits. So that means they can use anyone’s brain.

I realize that whatever may be found through examining my brain tissue isn’t going to do anything for my son. Research takes a lot of time. But some other mother’s son, someday, may benefit. And that’s a good enough reason for me.

O is for Outstanding

I learned something exciting today. Not about science, or history, or the things I usually have fun learning about. I learned (at a parent-teacher conference) that my 8-year-old son is doing well in school.

As a preschooler he was tested and provisionally diagnosed as developmentally delayed. At age six that was changed to “mild autism.” Since he started kindergarten he has had an aide who helps him cope with confusing (to him) instructions and with stressful situations. 

Autism: a parent’s perspective

My husband forwarded me this link today:
http://www.whatkindofworlddoyouwant.com/videos/view/id/408214
The band, Five for Fighting, is generously donating $0.49 to Autism Speaks for each time this video is viewed. The funding goes toward research studies to help find a cure for autism.

As we have a son with autism ourselves, it is of course an issue of great personal interest to us. Our son has a milder form of the disorder than the little girl in this video, having been able to speak a few words even as a toddler, though he was far behind other children his age. With the help of speech and language therapy, he is considered “at grade level” today in speaking (though behavioral problems remain).