Crazy for the Storm: A Memoir of Survival

There is more to life than just surviving it. Inside each turbulence there is a calm—a sliver of light buried in the darkness.

Eleanor prepared dinner. While boiling the spaghetti she explained to me about bad pretends and good pretends. You have a choice, Norman. You don't have to believe Nick's bad stories. Those are his bad pretends about what may or may not happen, she said. You can make up your own good stores. Good pretends.

Beautiful things were sometimes mixed up with treacherous things, they could even happen at the same time, or one could lead to the other

I needed something else, some kind of juice. He gave me a hooked-eyebrow glance and took a showy swig of the water. Mmm, he said, smacking his lips. Water-juice. It's fantastic.

My dad had previously spoken about 'fighting through things to get to the good stuff' or some such concept, and as he shook the salt water out of his curly brown hair, he talked more about people 'giving up and missing out on fantastic moments'.