God I loved that book.  And so many of the reviews online were all about how depressing it was.  And yeah, it’s not exactly pollyanna roll-around-in-the-sunshine book, but it’s awesome. 

The main character is a 12 year old girl who witnesses everything going on around her but has no experience or support in trying to process and understand it.  And it’s also about the damage people do to themselves, other people and animals.  But it’s not hopeless, or at least I didn’t think so.  Because it’s also about how the same people can find connection, compassion and committment with others in those situations.

I loved this bit of the book.  Jerry, a rodeo guy is helping her get her head on straight at a horse show.  She’s terrified because her Dad is making her show a horse that is kind of nuts and not really broken, and she doesn’t want to say no to her Dad.  It struck me as an interesting take on mula banda and focus and probably life in general.

“It isn’t about control,” he whispered. “It isn’t about concentration.”

He slide his hand down my arm, resting his fingers lightly on my hip.  “You want to be tight here,” he siad, then smoothed his hands down his own hips, making a frame around the space between his crotch and navel. “Put all the the fear right here.  Just stuff it down until it’s a like a knot, a cold, hard fist clenched right in your gut.”

Jerry’s jaw was hard, his eyebrows knitting as he balled his fist into his stomach.  Then he reached out, touching the pads of his fingers to the center of my forehead. “And here,” he said, “be empty.” His skin felt cool and dry against mine and I closed my eyes, trying to let my thoughts drain away. “Look right between her ears, nowhere else.  Don’t think. Don’t feel. Make your mind as blank as the sky in summertime. Okay?”….. She’ll do the work,” he told me. “All you have to do is stay on top of her.”