Impulse

\ Without Warning\ Sometimes\ you're traveling\ a highway, the only road\ you've ever known,\ and wham! A semi\ comes from nowhere\ and rolls right over you.\ \ Sometimes\ you don't wake up.\ But if you happen\ to, you know things\ will never be\ the same.\ \ Sometimes\ that's not\ so bad.\ \ Sometimes\ lives intersect,\ no rhyme, no reason,\ except, perhaps,\ for a passing semi.\ \ Triad\ Three\ separate highways\ intersect at a place\ no reasonable person\ would ever want to go.\ \ Three\ lives that would have\ been cut short, if not\ for hasty interventions\ by loved ones. Or Fate.\ \ Three\ people, with nothing\ at all in common\ except age, proximity,\ and a wish to die.\ \ Three\ tapestries, tattered\ at the edges and come\ unwoven to reveal\ a single mutual thread.\ \ The Thread\ Wish\ you could turn off\ the questions, turn\ off the voices,\ turn off all sound.\ \ Yearn\ to close out\ the ugliness, close\ out the filthiness,\ close out all light.\ \ Long\ to cast away\ yesterday, cast\ away memory,\ cast away all jeopardy.\ \ Pray\ you could somehow stop\ the uncertainty, somehow\ stop the loathing,\ somehow stop the pain.\ \ Conner\ Arrival\ \ The glass doors swing open,\ in perfect sync, precisely\ timed so you don't have\ to think. Just stroll right in.\ I doubt it's quite as easy\ to turn around and walk\ back outside, retreat to\ unstable ground. Home turf.\ An orderly escorts me down\ spit-shined corridors, past\ tinted Plexiglas and closed,\ unmarked doors. Mysteries.\ One foot in front of the other,\ counting tiles on the floor so\ I don't have to focus the blur\ of painted smiles, fake faces.\ A mannequin in a tight blue\ suit, with a too-short skirt\ (and legs that can wear it),\ in a Betty Boop voice halts us.\ I'm Dr. Boston. Welcome to\ Aspen Springs. I'll give you\ the tour. Paul, please take his\ things to the Redwood Room.\ \ Aspen Springs. Redwood Room.\ As if this place were a five-star\ resort, instead of a lockdown\ where crazies pace. Waiting.\ At Least\ It doesn't have a hospital\ stink. Oh yes, it's all very\ clean, from cafeteria chairs\ to the bathroom sink. Spotless.\ But the clean comes minus\ the gag-me smell, steeping\ every inch of that antiseptic\ hell where they excised\ the damnable bullet. I\ wonder what Dad said when\ he heard I tried to put myself\ six feet under -- and failed.\ I should have put the gun\ to my head, worried less\ about brain damage, more\ about getting dead. Finis.\ Instead, I decided a shot\ through the heart would\ make it stop beating, rip\ it apart to bleed me out.\ I couldn't even do that\ right. The bullet hit bone,\ left my heart in one piece.\ In hindsight, luck wasn't\ with me that day. Mom\ found me too soon, or my\ pitiful life might have ebbed\ to the ground in arterial flow.\ I thought she might die too,\ at the sight of so much blood\ and the thought of it staining\ her white Armani blouse.\ Conner, what have you done?\ she said. Tell me this was just\ an accident. She never heard\ my reply, never shed a tear.\ \ I Don't Remember\ Much after that, except\ for speed. Ghostly red lights,\ spinning faster and faster,\ as I began to recede from\ consciousness. Floating\ through the ER doors,\ frenzied motion. A needle's\ sting. But I do remember,\ just before the black hole\ swallowed me, seeing Mom's\ face. Her furious eyes\ followed me down into sleep.\ It's a curious place, the\ Land of Blood Loss and\ Anesthesia, floating through it\ like swimming in sand. Taxing.\ After a while, you think you\ should reach for the shimmering\ surface. You can't hold your\ breath, and even if you could,\ it's dark and deep and bitter\ cold, where nightmares and truth\ collide, and you wonder if death\ could unfold fear so real. Palpable.\ So you grope your way up into\ the light, to find you can't\ move, with your arms strapped\ tight and overflowing tubes.\ And everything hits you like\ a train at full speed. Voices.\ Strange faces. A witches' stewpot\ of smells. Pain. Most of all,\ pain.\ Tony\ Just Saw\ \ A new guy check in. Tall,\ built, with a way fine face,\ and acting too tough to tumble. \ He's a nutshell asking to crack.\ Wonder if he's ever let a guy\ touch that pumped-up bod.\ They gave him the Redwood\ Room. It's right across\ from mine -- the Pacific \ Room. Pretty peaceful in\ here most of the time, long\ as my meds are on time.\ Ha. Get it? Most of the time\ ,\ if my meds are on time. If you\ don't get it, you've never\ been in a place like this,\ never hung tough from one\ med call till the next.\ Wasted. That's the only way\ to get by in this "treatment\ center." Nice name for a loony\ bin. Everyone in here is crazy\ one way or another. Everyone.\ Even the so-called doctors.\ Most of 'em are druggies.\ Fucking loser meth freaks.\ I mean, if you're gonna\ purposely lose your mind,\ you want to get it back some\ day. Don't you? Okay, maybe not.\ I Lost My Mind\ A long time ago, but it\ wasn't exactly my idea.\ Shit happens, as they say,\ and my shit literally hit\ the fan. But enough sappy \ crap. We were talking drugs.\ I won't tell you I never tried\ crystal, but it really wasn't\ my thing. I saw enough\ people, all wound up, drop\ over the edge, that I guess\ I decided not to take that leap.\ I always preferred creeping\ into a giant, deep hole where\ no bad feelings could follow.\ At least till I had to come up\ for air. I diddled with pot first, but \ that tasty green weed couldn't drag\ me low enough. Which mostly \ left downers, "borrowed" from\ medicine cabinets and kitchen \ cabinets and nightstands.\ Wherever I could find them. \ And once in a while -- not often,\ because it was pricey and tough\ to score -- once in a while, I\ tumbled way low, took a ride \ on the H train. Oh yeah,\ that's what I'm talking about.\ A hot shot clear to hell.\ Copyright © 2007 by Ellen Hopkins

\ From Barnes & NobleAspen Springs Psychiatric Hospital is a place for people who have played the ultimate endgame. The suicide attempt survivors portrayed in this novel tell starkly different stories, but these three embattled teens share a desperate need for a second chance. Ellen Hopkins, the author of Glass and Crank, presents another jarring, ultimately uplifting story about young people crawling back from a precipice.\ \ \ \ \ Publishers WeeklyHopkins (Crank) weaves together the story of three troubled teens locked up in a psychological facility after suicide attempts, once again writing in artful free verse. Each character is full-bodied and distinct. Conner is a wealthy overachiever who had an affair with a teacher; Tony, who thinks he is gay, was locked up in juvenile detention center for years after killing his mother's child-molesting boyfriend; Vanessa is a manic-depressive who cuts herself to "hush the demons/ shrieking inside my brain." All three have attempted suicide. As they begin to open up to their counselor—and each other—they reveal an almost unbelievable amount of grittiness in their backgrounds. Vanessa, for example, found her own mother dying after an overdose and did not call for an ambulance, and had a boyfriend who "wouldn't even hold/ my hand" while she was waiting to have an abortion. But readers will find themselves invested in the characters by the time the three head to their outdoor challenge—the final piece of their program—and can finally divulge their darkest secrets to one another (Tony and Vanessa even form an unexpected romance). This is a thick book, but the free verse makes for a fast read. By book's end, readers may well feel the effects of each protagonist's final choice. Ages 14-up. (Jan.)\ Copyright 2006 Reed Business Information.\ \ \ VOYA\ - Jing Cao\ Impulse delivers a riveting, fast-paced story of teenage hurt and healing through the power of poetry. All characters reveal new secrets until the end, drawing readers into their compelling stories. Hopkins grapples with a veritable smorgasbord of loaded issues in her story, but seems to want to cover too much. At times, characters come perilously close to becoming sob-story cliches, or caricatures of angst, though Hopkins always manages to save the plot with a new turn of events. Not for the weak of heart, this book confronts many of adolescence's darkest issues with warmth, humor, and gravity.\ \ \ \ \ VOYA\ - Diane Emge Colson\ Connor shoots himself in the chest, Vanessa slices through the flesh on her wrist, and Tony downs a lethal combination of Valium and Jack Daniels. All three teens were thwarted in their suicide attempts by timely rescues and now find themselves residents of a mental health facility. Each one has a gritty, pain-filled backstory. Connor is a gorgeous overachiever with icy parents and a broken, illicit love affair. Tony, who believes himself to be gay because he has only had sex with men, was sent to a juvenile detention center at the age of eight. Vanessa is tormented by her mother's mental illness even as she finds herself plunging through the same desperate highs and lows. They form a triangle of friendship, with undertones of sexual attraction, that carries them through the various stages of their treatment programs, culminating with the outdoor hiking adventure called the Challenge. As in Hopkins's other novels, Crank (Simon & Schuster, 2004/VOYA February 2005) and Burned (Margaret K. McElderry/S & S, 2006/VOYA June 2006), this story is written in free verse, with each teen trading off as narrator. It is a very long book, despite much white space on each page. Hopkins does a good job of feeding the reader a steady stream of shocking revelations, but sometimes the detail drags against the drama. The classroom scenes, for example, read like unbidden political messages. It is also difficult to get a real sense of each teen's character beyond his or her life circumstances, because the narrative voice varies little from one teen to another. Nevertheless readers seeking an understanding of teen suicide will surely appreciate this penetrating exploration of the topic.\ \ \ \ \ KLIATT\ - Myrna Marler\ To quote the review of the hardcover in KLIATT, January 2007: Deciding whether poetry, especially freeform poetry, is good is so subjective. One is tempted to dismiss a thick YA novel written in such a form as pretentious. On the other hand, narrative poetry has a long tradition in English and may appeal to YA readers in a way that a page of dense prose might not. This poetry tends to have lines six to eight syllables long and line breaks in inexplicable places. Yet the story becomes intensely compelling. Three teenagers who have tried in various ways and for various reasons to commit suicide find themselves committed to a mental hospital: Connor, who, in the manner of Edward Cory, seems to be everyone's definition of a golden boy; Tony, who is convinced he's a homosexual because all he's ever known is abuse; and Vanessa, who cuts herself to find relief from oppressive guilt. In spite of the vast differences between them, the three come together as best friends and perhaps something more. This is the story of their struggle towards mental health and a sense of their own value in the world. Their journey ends on a wilderness camping adventure, which is to be the capstone experience of their treatment. Only two of them make it out alive. The three voices take turns narrating, each offering a perspective on their pasts and developing relationships. The ending is both sad and a little too satisfactory, sort of like The Breakfast Club in print. Young people will enjoy this book, though. The characters are relevant and interesting and the story gives readers an opportunity to dip below surface appearances. Reviewer: Myrna Marler\ \ \ \ \ School Library JournalGr 9 Up\ Three teens tell their stories, in free verse, from a psychiatric hospital after failed suicide attempts. Their lives unfold in alternating chapters, revealing emotionally scarred family relationships. An absent father, a bipolar mother, and a secret abortion have caused Vanessa to slash her wrists. As a compulsive cutter, she hides a paper clip to dig into her skin. Tony's drug overdose was triggered by an addiction in which he exchanged sex for money. Abused as a child, he is confused about his sexuality. Connor is the son of rich, controlling parents, and he survives a self-inflicted gunshot wound after a doomed affair with a female teacher. Initially, the narrators are inwardly focused, having arrived at "level zero," the beginning of their treatment. As they become acquainted with one another, the story, told in spare verse and colorful imagery, becomes more plot-driven and filled with witty dialogue. Both boys value Vanessa's friendship and there is an inkling of competition for her affection, although she assumes that Tony is gay. During a wilderness camping trip with other patients and staff, which would graduate the trio to the final level of treatment, it becomes apparent that one of them is mentally backsliding at the thought of returning home and has stopped taking meds. The consequences are played out, leaving the others to grapple with an additional loss and a newfound appreciation for life. Mature fans of the verse format will devour this hefty problem novel.\ —Vicki ReutterCopyright 2006 Reed Business Information.\ \ \ \ \ Kirkus ReviewsIn sharp, searing free verse divided into two-page chapters, Hopkins sketches three adolescents who have just attempted suicide. Vanessa (razors), Tony (drugs) and Conner (gun) tried to "close out / the ugliness, close / out the filthiness, / close out all light." They begin treatment at Aspen Springs residential center in pits of numb despair, unhappy to have failed and lacking human connection. The therapists broach some psychological issues, but Aspen Springs is more behavioral than psychiatric, awarding levels of privilege for acts of progress. Each distinct first-person story slowly reveals its grim secrets, stinging from start to finish. The origins that the text identifies for Tony's sexuality prevent his being a standard-bearer for gayness in literature, but the three main characterizations ring true. There's a tiny place for love here, but readers familiar with Hopkins' Burned (2006) or with signs of serious depression will anticipate the tragic ending. A fast, jagged, hypnotic read. (Fiction. YA)\ \ \ \ \ Booklist“Readers [Laura] Flanagan, Jeremy Guskin, and Steve Coombs bring credible resonance to the respective characters.”\ —Booklist\ \