Hi ya, bookish friends! Here’s a (long-awaited) follow-up to my open letter to Louise Penny - an open letter to another one of my favs!
Dear Casey McQuiston,
I am probably not the first reader to say this, but I still think it needs to be said - your books changed (or at the very least improved) my life. Let me explain.
I often refer to Red, White, and Royal Blue* as my favorite comfort read, but I also, just as frequently, rush to explain why it is more than just a comfort read. I first picked up RWRB in my second year of law school. Much like I did in high school and then college, I often bit off more than I could chew in law school. The difference, though, was that in law school, my support system was smaller and more dispersed, my free time was less, and my mental health was declining. You’re probably wondering how RWRB fits in here - I promise, I’m getting there.
So, second year law school. Overwhelmed. Lost. Angry. Questioning every life choice that led me to this particular juncture of my life. And I got the call that I had been elected to a prestigious position in one of my law school organizations. And I burst into tears. I applied because I thought I was supposed to. And the second I got it, I knew I had made a mistake.
Cue RWRB. My book club - the one I talked about in this post - really the only support system local to me at the time, filled with some of the best friends I’ve ever made, was reading RWRB at the time. The book was heavier than I expected - quite a bit of angst in what I expected to be a world of only fluff - but that heaviness, interspersed with a happily ever after, is exactly what I needed in that moment. So, after crying for a bit because I knew my already stressful life was about to get significantly more so, I sat in my bed ignoring all of the things I probably should have been working on, and lost myself in its pages, just for a little while. It was also a hit with my book club, btw.
And if that’s where my story with RWRB ended, that would be enough. I survived law school. I survived the extracurriculars I forced myself into long after I’d lost the passion for them. I even survived the bar exam - the one in 2020 that felt like it would never happen.
And then I got a job. Not just a job. I got my dream job. And instead of feeling proud or like I’d finally found my place after a tumultuous few years, the crippling imposter’s syndrome came careening back. During that time, I had a really hard time reading physical books or ebooks. Then, and now, when I’m too overwhelmed, too anxious, or too depressed, trying to read words on a page is almost impossible, but the second I’m in the quiet I usually need to read, my brain becomes so loud focusing on the things weighing heaviest on me. It was then that I really started getting into audiobooks. And much like sinking into the tightest hug from the best of friends, the RWRB audiobook provided comfort in a time where that was at a minimum in my life.
But the journey doesn’t end there, either.
Each time I’ve read RWRB (and trust me, there have been many), I get something else out of it - or there is something in the narrative that I need just at that moment. Alex Claremont-Diaz is often the source of these life lessons and epiphanies.
Perhaps it need not be said, given the last few paragraphs, but Alex’s drive for perfection, his fears of failure, and the crushing weight of expectations weighing down on his shoulders, were all things that spoke to law school me and early career me. (I’m still very much in my early career me era, if I’m being honest.) He found peace. He found balance. And I so desperately want that for myself, that seeing a character I so self-identify with find it for himself is itself a comfort. I don’t have peace yet. I don’t have balance. But in stories it’s possible, and because of that, I can believe it’s possible for me too.
As if graduating during a global pandemic, starting a new job, taking the bar exam, becoming vegetarian, having a death in the family, and adopting two more cats on top of the one I already had, wasn’t enough, I once again turned to RWRB when I started to realize I wasn’t quite sure where I fell on the sexuality spectrum. Perhaps 27-28 seems a bit late for such an identity crisis, but, I’d been focused on academics and work for so much of my life, I never quite paused to figure out who I was. I still don’t really know, though I think I’ve gotten the bisexuality bit figured out. Thanks, ACD, RWRB helped with that too.
Finally, let’s talk about the RWRB movie. Like many of your readers, I was aggressively excited for its premiere - I used my flex time from work to psyche myself up for it, my friend bought me royal-inspired cookies, and I was dressed in my RWRB best (see here lol), and I loved it. It was different than the book, and I consider them different media experiences, but I did like it. But, much like its literary predecessor, the RWRB movie came at a time, and offered comfort at a time, when I needed it most. In August 2023, I started having some medical issues that are still yet to be diagnosed or fixed. These issues created problems in personal life and in my professional life (as if that wasn’t strife-filled enough as is), and the RWRB movie quickly became a comfort watch. I don’t think I’ve watched it as many times as I’ve read it, but it’s getting close. In fact, I might actually throw it on now as I edit this letter. (I’m only half kidding.)
So that’s been my journey with RWRB so far. I’ve also enjoyed One Last Stop - here’s my discussion post, have I Kissed Shara Wheeler on my TBR, and CANNOT wait for August 6, 2024 to get my hands on The Pairing.
So thank you, Casey McQuiston. I can’t read your books in the future.
-Ami
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