Stories I Can't Tell My Kids Yet

De: Joe Holt

Narrado por: Dave Wright

One of the most important facts I believe shapes my view of the world is that I have a high-functioning case of the Asperger spectrum of autism. It went undiagnosed until quite recently in my life, and I am now 35.

In 1978, I was born prematurely with hyaline membrane disease (now commonly called respiratory distress syndrome). I went without oxygen to my brain for an indeterminate amount of time. I also had fluid on my brain that had to be constantly drained. The first three months of my life were spent in an incubator, not held or hugged by humans. The reason for this plastic isolation bubble was to save my life. I can't help but wonder now if it is what so deeply damaged my ability to understand my own human emotions properly.

I always knew I was different from most of the kids in school. While other kids were on the playground or at lunch, I could be found in the library reading about physics, engine specs on World War II aircraft, and the Vietnam War. I was fascinated with how and why the world worked. I was able to get perfect grades in class without trying, and I was constantly admonished for being the class clown, talking too much, and staring out the classroom window. I was placed in academically gifted classes around the fifth grade and was beginning to excel. Of course, that all came to an abrupt end when I was sent to a forced child labor camp in Florida after fifth grade.

This time, I will give you more than a synopsis of the scenarios. As per reader requests from my first book, my thoughts will be included, instead of just my version of the resulting reality. Of course, along the way, I am going to tell you stories I can't tell my kids, yet. Seriously, if you know my kids, please don't give them a copy of this until they are at least 18 years old. I want them to still think I have all the answers for a while longer.

Some of these stories will make you laugh, and some of them will make you cry. Just know I am not making up stories to toy with your emotions. Our lives are often more bizarre than fiction. Writing these events down is simply my way of letting them go. I am learning to dissipate the anger and negative energy associated with the past and have entered a new state of bliss in my life that can only be described as transformative. I'm not proud of everything you will hear here. However, these stories are the truest versions of some of the more dramatic events of my life that I can recollect at this time.

These are events I do not feel comfortable sharing with my two young sons just yet. They are compiled into this audiobook: Stories I Can't Tell My Kids Yet.

©2014 Joe Holt (P)2018 Joe Holt

Mindbogglingly Idiotic

I read this book on Kindle, and out of, shall we say, morbid curiosity, I wondered if the audiobook brought anything new to it. It was easily the foulest attempt at literature I’ve had the misfortune to read in THAT format, and I can’t frankly say that the audiobook is much better.

As an audiobook, I will say that the narrator does justice to it, because he does an excellent job of sounding like a dumb hick. He’s an actor, so I’m sure it’s part of his job to do that, and he does it well enough. It fits the text and the narrative – but if anything, only makes it more cringeworthy. Even the best narrator in the world – which, Mr. Wright is not, but he’s certainly not the worst either - couldn’t make a good audiobook out of literary garbage like this.

As far as the text, my Amazon review of the kindle edition says most of what I’d be inclined to say about the book anyway. I’m not normally one to stoop to ad hominem statements, but if you’re writing an autobiography, you’ve kind of opened yourself up to them. It’s the bitter reminiscence of a delusional man, who tries to hide those particular traits beneath a veneer of “letting go of anger” and untreated autism.

If you like listening to a book that walks the psychotic line between gloating about blatantly falsified stories of sexual conquest and perceived moral superiority, and blinding, delusional bitterness about the bad things that have happened to him, then this is certainly the book for you. If you value literature, half-decent writing, truth, sanity, and not walking away feeling like you’ve been violated, then please – please – steer WELL clear.