A Quiet Kind of Thunder by Sara Barnard
Publisher: Simon Pulse
Pub. Date: January 9, 2018
Source/Format: NetGalley/e-galley
**I received a free e-galley in exchange for an honest review. Quotes are taken from the finished Kindle edition.**
I want to bottle this discovery and carry it with me everywhere. Lose the fear, find my voice. So simple. And, yet, so rare.
Steffi Brons is a sixteen-year-old with selective mutism—which means she literally can't control when her voice comes and goes—and severe social anxiety. Steffi has always relied on her awesome best friend, Tem, to support her, stand up for her, and help her navigate the social world of school. But this year, Steffi's and Tem's paths are diverging—Steffi is starting sixth form and Tem has chosen the college route—and without Tem around, Steffi finds herself adrift and unsure of where she belongs or how to navigate through school life. Enter Rhys Gold, a deaf boy who Steffi immediately connects with because she can communicate with him through British Sign Language. As the year progresses and Steffi and Rhys grow closer, Steffi finds herself taking small but victorious steps toward becoming more comfortable with world around her.
My Thoughts
Because anxiety doesn't care if you're happy or not ... Just like cancer doesn't care if you're happy. Or a broken leg. Or diabetes.
This review was really hard to write because A Quiet Kind of Thunder covers a topic that is very familiar and personal to me, and it did so in a way that I so appreciated because it was so real. First, I should start by saying that I don't know much about selective mutism or deafness, so I'll just have to echo other reviewers' thoughts here and say that it seems like the author has done her research on these subjects. What I want to talk about is Sara Barnard's spot-on portrayal of a character who has severe social anxiety. Wow. Just ... wow. I wish this book had been around when I was in high school, back when I didn't know that social anxiety was even a thing and was just drifting from one day to the next feeling so isolated from my peers and like there was some massive defect in my personality. I really hope that this book reaches readers like sixteen-year-old me, who desperately need to see that there are other people like them out there who are going through the same struggles, and that there are things they can do to help themselves not feel so scared and alone.
There were so many times while reading A Quiet Kind of Thunder that I felt like jumping up and down and shouting "Yes! Oh my god, someone else gets this!" Barnard captures perfectly those feelings that I and others with social anxiety have struggled with constantly: the feeling that basic, everyday things like saying hello to someone in the hallway or speaking to a cashier at a store are insurmountable hurdles; the feelings of jealousy when you see "normal" people in social settings interacting with others with what seems like total ease; the feeling like you're not normal, will never be normal, or that there's something inherently wrong with you that can never be fixed. It was so validating to read about a character experiencing those feelings. Equally important were the moments when Barnard showed us Steffi's small victories: those moments of validation when she was able prove to herself that she could do the things that used to seem impossible to her, like answering a question out loud in class, or going to the grocery store by herself, or asking a stranger for help in a dire situation.
Mum has had an anxious daughter for sixteen years, and she still doesn't seem to get the concept of little victories. That spending and evening where I wasn't feeling sick every time someone asked me a question is actually a really big deal, and the fact that it might just be a one-off is the kind of thing I'm already worried about. There's no such thing as getting your hopes up if you're anxious. Little victories are everything in a world where worst-case scenarios are on an endless loop in your head.The depictions of CBT (cognitive behavioral therapy) and Steffi's treatment process for her anxiety were so realistic, and for that reason, so very important. Meds and therapy, while helpful, aren't magical cure-alls; even with these, Steffi realizes she has to actively take steps to help herself. And even then, there are still going to be days that are a struggle. I really appreciated that Barnard didn't shy away from these hard truths. There's a part in the book where Steffi is having dinner with her family and Rhys, and it's been a good day for her, and she says that if her life were a movie, this is were the movie would end—with everything perfect and happy. But Steffi's story doesn't end there, and Barnard goes on to show Steffi's continued struggles. I think that's important. It's important that Steffi doesn't do a complete 180 by the end of the book and turn into a super talkative, vivacious, charismatic person, because that's not how mental illness works. There's no switch that flips or magical pill that you take that turns you into a different person. Steffi does make improvements, but her anxiety doesn't just go away; it's still something she has to manage, and that's okay.
We know you find the world quite hard, and we know we can't make it easier for you, or make decisions for you. But you're growing up and you're learning how to navigate it in your own way. That's fantastic.
What I also loved about this book were all Steffi's different relationships: with Rhys, with her parents, and with her best friend, Tem, who all help her handle her anxiety and selective mutism in different ways. Steffi's parents are divorced and both remarried, so it was really interesting (and sometimes heartbreaking) to see the different parenting styles: one side is super supportive, and one, unfortunately, doesn't fully understand or accept that her selective mutism and anxiety truly are things that Steffi cannot fully control. Tem, who has served as Steffi's protector throughout their school years, is mostly understanding, but as they take different paths and begin to drift apart, Tem tends to throw Steffi's problems back in her face or make hurtful jabs. For those reasons, I both loved and was frustrated by Tem (though it's important to note that Steffi isn't a perfect friend either; she sometimes takes her for granted, because she feels that since Tem is outspoken and social, she doesn't need Steffi as much as Steffi needs her). And then there's Rhys. Their relationship was so adorable and one of my favorite parts of the book! Befriending Rhys is what initially gives Steffi the confidence to be bolder, but, importantly, she learns that she can't be totally reliant on him to make her better; after all, Rhys has his own disability and insecurities to deal with. But together they do help each other.
A Quiet Kind of Thunder is a sweet love story, a relatable coming-of-age story, and a truthful depiction of what it's like to live with an anxiety disorder. I thoroughly enjoyed this book, and I hope that other readers who can relate to Steffi's and Rhys's situations will find it, read it, and hopefully feel less alone because of it.
