Publisher's Hardcover ©2017 | -- |
Paperback ©2018 | -- |
Coma. Fiction.
Interpersonal relations. Fiction.
Family life. Fiction.
Supernatural. Fiction.
Nursing a seriously bruised ego, out of sync with friends and family, Eden slipped, hit her head, and plunged into the icy river; in the coma that follows, she's approached by a strange girl whose urgent message she's unable to hear.Unresolved issues slow Eden's recovery. The white teen's embittered by her humiliating epic fail in the class she took with Russia's Bolshoi Ballet. The brown-skinned girl from her coma proves to be another hospital patient, Jasmine, still comatose, her only visitor a quiet, intense white boy named Joe. Through their shared interest in Jaz, Joe and Eden form a bond, at first halting and awkward, intensifying as their mutual attraction grows. Joe's mother died when he was 8; he helps his florist dad and stepmother grow flowers, some sold at the hospital. Middle-class Eden has been free of domestic chores to pursue her interests. Joe and Jaz, a former foster child, have been friends for years. They'd been each other's world; without her, he's as off-balance as Eden is. Though Eden fears losing Joe, she's as committed to reaching Jaz as he is. If what the coma signifies for Jasmine remains mysterious, for Eden, it's a chrysalis. The protective cocoon may initiate rebirth—transformation is up to her. Her deliberate, almost meditative present-tense narration chronicling her metamorphosis is punctuated by excerpts from a book she reads about near-death experiences, anchoring readers to her existential journey. Rendered with insight and compassion, Eden's struggles to make peace with the human condition add up to a riveting coming-of-age story. (Fiction. 14-18)
ALA Booklist (Thu Dec 01 00:00:00 CST 2016)Laure revisits characters and the landscape of This Raging Light (2015) with the romantic and thoughtful story of Eden Jones, a 17-year-old dancer. Eden is the twin of Digby, whose fierce love for Lucille (Eden's best friend) drove that debut novel. Eden, still reeling from Lucille and Digby's relationship and feeling she's lost both her best friend and twin, tries to mend things with Lucille one icy night by the river, but instead slips, falls, and ends up in a coma for one month. Her recovery is slow and stilted, but she comes back with memories of a place in-between life and death, as well as an intense interest in Jasmine, another patient in a coma, and Joe, Jasmine's loyal visitor. It's clear where the plot will lead, but the appeal lies in Eden's original, creative, and thought-provoking first-person (mostly) narrative. Fans of the first title will be happy to see Lucille through Eden's eyes, but this companion novel stands solidly alone.
Horn Book (Tue Aug 01 00:00:00 CDT 2017)After she comes out of a coma, Eden, once an aspiring ballerina, must confront uncomfortable truths in her recovery. She's plagued by memories of the otherworldly place she spent her coma in and recognizes still-comatose fellow patient Jaz from there. Laure conjures a relatable teen voice and pulls together a dense but satisfying semi-speculative plot with steady pacing and dreamlike prose.
Kirkus Reviews (Fri Oct 04 00:00:00 CDT 2024)Nursing a seriously bruised ego, out of sync with friends and family, Eden slipped, hit her head, and plunged into the icy river; in the coma that follows, she's approached by a strange girl whose urgent message she's unable to hear.Unresolved issues slow Eden's recovery. The white teen's embittered by her humiliating epic fail in the class she took with Russia's Bolshoi Ballet. The brown-skinned girl from her coma proves to be another hospital patient, Jasmine, still comatose, her only visitor a quiet, intense white boy named Joe. Through their shared interest in Jaz, Joe and Eden form a bond, at first halting and awkward, intensifying as their mutual attraction grows. Joe's mother died when he was 8; he helps his florist dad and stepmother grow flowers, some sold at the hospital. Middle-class Eden has been free of domestic chores to pursue her interests. Joe and Jaz, a former foster child, have been friends for years. They'd been each other's world; without her, he's as off-balance as Eden is. Though Eden fears losing Joe, she's as committed to reaching Jaz as he is. If what the coma signifies for Jasmine remains mysterious, for Eden, it's a chrysalis. The protective cocoon may initiate rebirth—transformation is up to her. Her deliberate, almost meditative present-tense narration chronicling her metamorphosis is punctuated by excerpts from a book she reads about near-death experiences, anchoring readers to her existential journey. Rendered with insight and compassion, Eden's struggles to make peace with the human condition add up to a riveting coming-of-age story. (Fiction. 14-18)
Publishers Weekly (Fri Oct 06 00:00:00 CDT 2023)If you-re in a coma, where are you? Is there a place between life and death? Unanswerable questions, but not for 17-year-old Eden Jones, a type-A ballerina who hits her head and nearly drowns. When she wakes up after a month, she has another question to face: what-s it like to get your old life back? Eden is having visions she doesn-t understand; she can-t stop thinking about Jaz, a fellow coma patient; and then there-s handsome, worried Joe, Jaz-s best friend, who may be something more for Eden. Laure creates an intriguing blend of realism and the unknowable in her sophomore novel, a companion of sorts to
Gr 8 Up-fter waking from a monthlong coma, 17-year-old Eden struggles to speak, eat, and swallow. Nerve damage threatens her future as a dancer. Formerly the life of the party, now Eden can only sleep, mope, and lash out at those around her. She is haunted by images from her time spent in a coma, in the place between life and death. How can Eden be sure that she even came back at all? The only person she feels connected to is another coma patient, Jaz. She finds herself drawn to Jaz's hospital room, where she meets Jaz's friend Joe. The two begin a friendship, which quickly blossoms into something more. Laure's writing is thoughtful and lyrical. The disconnect between Eden's plans for her future and her new reality will feel heartbreakingly familiar to anyone who has ever faced unexpected change. Unfortunately, the teen's existential crisis is largely overshadowed by a typical YA romance. The end result is a charming love story that feels lacking in conflict. Readers hoping for more answers about Eden's mysterious experiences "in between" will be left disappointed. Laure's sophomore novel is a companion to her This Raging Light. While the narrative stands alone, the relationships among the characters will feel underdeveloped to readers unfamiliar with the previous book. Beautiful writing and an enchanting love story will appeal to romance fans. VERDICT Give to fans of Gayle Forman's If I Stay, Lauren Oliver's Before I Fall, or Gregory Galloway's The 39 Deaths of Adam Strand.Liz Overberg, Zionsville Community High School, IN
Voice of Youth AdvocatesHigh school senior Eden wants nothing more than to dance ballet, but when a fall into an icy river sends her into a month-long coma, her life will never be the same. Although she wakes, she feels that a part of her has not returned; while dealing with all the physical problems, she keeps experiencing waking hallucinations focused on Jasmine, another coma patient in the ward. Jaz has had only one visitor, a handsome teen named Joe who draws Edens attention both for his connection to Jaz and for his mysterious qualities. As Eden struggles at home with changing dynamics in family and friend relationships, made even more difficult by her physical and mental problems, she looks to Joe and Jaz for meaning and a reason to go on. Did she really see Jaz on the other side? What was Jaz trying to tell her? Is there any hope that Jaz will wake? The first part of this book is confusing; readers might struggle to understand what is happening. It does not help that Eden is not a particularly likable character, being extremely self-centered and single-minded. While some of her moodiness and disregard for others feelings can be attributed to recovering from the coma, some of it is just Eden. As she spends more time with Joe, she becomes more sympathetic, and readers will appreciate their gentle, kissing-only romance. Hand this to readers who like angst, romance, and a touch of otherworldliness.Rebecca Moore. Laure's Then I Came Back is definitely a page-turner despite its slow start. Readers connect with the characters and will engage with most of the book, though at times they may not be sure what is real or not. This may not be a problem, though, as it adds to the mystery of the novel. Laure provokes new ideas through a twisted and impactful novel. 3Q, 4P.Kate Lawson, Teen Reviewer.
Starred Review for Kirkus Reviews
ALA Booklist (Thu Dec 01 00:00:00 CST 2016)
Horn Book (Tue Aug 01 00:00:00 CDT 2017)
Kirkus Reviews (Fri Oct 04 00:00:00 CDT 2024)
Publishers Weekly (Fri Oct 06 00:00:00 CDT 2023)
School Library Journal (Wed Mar 01 00:00:00 CST 2017)
Voice of Youth Advocates
YOU BLAME THE INTERNET FOR THE WHOLE THING.
Your mom made tequila-lime pie for dessert. You didn't have any because dessert always tastes like too much, but you did pilfer the bottle of Patrón Silver she used and sneak it to the river. You needed it because you had to walk down the hill in the middle of the night and your leather jacket wasn't warm enough for early November, but you were stubborn and stupid and wouldn't wear a puffer coat because gross. You didn't wear snow gear, either. Not even your combat boots, idiot. You wore flats. Flats in this weather, Eden. But you also took the tequila because, aside from an awkward exchange at Fred's Restaurant where Lucille works, you hadn't talked to her in six weeks and you figured, why not bring a little help for the both of you? Still, you don't blame the tequila for what's happening now.
You blame the Internet. It informed you, on a site it tricked you into, that there was going to be an epic once-in-five-years supermoon and that the universe was demanding you change your ways.
Move or be moved, it said. It was like a storm watch for the soul. You could practically hear the voice, see the guy standing in front of the monitor in some bad suit, waving his arms about in warning.
Fatepocalypse is coming in from the southwesterly direction at roughly eighty miles per hour, you imagine him saying in his uptight voice. Citizens should be on the lookout. It's headed straight for all of us, but I'm especially talking to Eden Jones. Oh boy, oh buddy, this one is coming for you, girl. Safety Department recommends you cease carrying on like a human and stay indoors. Preferably forever.
If you were naive enough to believe in a universe that communicates with humans (which you are not), one that you might, in fact, be able to have a conversation with (which you cannot), you would demand to know why it speaks in staticky gibberish made up of planets and symbols and expects people to understand it.
At first you blew off the Internet's warning because astrology is ridiculous nonsense, but then the whole week was such a suckfest, you began to wonder. It was so bad that you got paranoid about that moon, and ever more pissed off at the Internet, because brains are so powerful, just the fact that you read the warning could have made it true. But when Lucille texted you telling you she needed you, you thought maybe if you went, things would go back to their regularly scheduled pleasant level of suck instead of this extreme. Secretly, even secretly from yourself, you thought you might appease the nonexistent, confusing entity that was having its fun toying with you, by showing up for Lucille after, admittedly, being kind of a bitch to her when she needed you most.
You never meant to be horrible to her. You have long claimed that the only thing you really hate is mean girls, and you wouldn't be one on purpose. But ever since Lucille decided your newly philandering, almost engaged twin brother is her soul mate, being around her has gotten really hard to do without violent impulses. Every time Digby moped all over you about her and loving her and Elaine, and his deep, angsty struggles between right and wrong, and what should he do, you wanted to shake Lucille by the shoulder until her head jiggled free of her neck socket.
Because first of all, if a girl has any ambition, she shouldn't be a pawn in someone else's drama, much less be the cause of it. Second, cheating is sordid and cheap. And third, it is a conflict of interest that isn't actually all that interesting but is all anybody can talk about. At first the entire seamy debacle (because it is a debacle) was something to watch, but after a while, it seemed to you that it was nothing but pathetic.
So the bad moon rising is how you found yourself on your rock tonight, the flat one at the river's edge that you used to pretend into a throne when you were little. You still do, because you fancy yourself a queen and the river your queendom. This bend of the river, flanked by rocks and ancient trees and an old train car, is your private place. The willows are all stripped down this time of year, except for the sheen of icicle glass. You like willows best of all the trees, because they know how to bow to a lady, but also because if you cut them deep, they cry.
Lucille was crying, sitting under them looking like a giant snowball in her winter jacket and hat, and the ice in you was melting as she shifted around, chewing on her lip, her nails, her nail beds, crossing her legs then uncrossing them, moving, always moving, apologizing for her flaws with every twitch.
Heart-in-her-hand girl.
You were glad to have come so you could remind yourself all about your mad, passionate love for her, which had hurt so much to try to forget, but you were distracted, too. Your whirlpool mind wouldn't stop circling the drain, whirring on and on about your stupid, average, small-town New Jersey mediocrity, that your future was now nothing but an endless, murky path. Your third cigarette in a row wasn't doing any good either. It spilled through your lungs. They ached, and your head, your stomach too, and you knew you should--but you couldn't--stop chain smoking.
"I'm really sorry about the ballet thing." Lucille's voice glued you to the rock just as you were about to stand, to tell her you were going home. "You should keep on," she said.
"I will." You tried not to think about the lady in New York with the deer bones bending toward you, whispering nightmares about your future low into your ear. "Just now I know it's not going to do me any good. Denial is for losers." You said this out loud, because Lucille needed to hear it as much as you did. "Face your crap and move on. Otherwise you'll get old and depressed and turn into a scary pod person whose most pressing issue in life is when they get to trade in the can of Dr Pepper for the can of Bud. It's true." You took one last drag of your smoke. "Look around."
Lucille tittered, but that easy-chair reality wasn't funny. It was entirely possible. Probable, even. People settle down in front of the idiot box and never get up again because it requires too much effort. Sometimes, though you would never speak it, you think it would be a hell of a lot easier to want a simple life. You long for a recliner, and for a dull, compliant mind, instead of the one you got, which is a lot more flailing octopus than floating manatee.
You crushed your smoke and stood high on your toes. You stretched, reached your arms toward the sky, and asked the moon if it was satisfied now, if you had done enough to turn things around and avoid the storm by being here, by paying respects, by cleaning up your friendship with Lucille.
That was it . . . the moment it happened.
Your feet lost their grip like an answer.
You teetered on ice, tried to steady yourself. It was too fast.
You wanted to call out to Lucille for help, but before you could, a thud that was your own head. A bright jangle. Pain. You tried to fight. You couldn't. You were already in the water.
You waited to go unconscious, but you didn't. At least, you think you didn't. Rocks battered your legs, and water slipped into your lungs, heavier than the smoke but just as achy.
This was a crisis, and you knew it in your flailing octopus brain, but it didn't touch you. Because you weren't you anymore. You were nowhere near yourself. Not in any way. You weren't even human. No, girl. You were the wind whipping at the pages of a book; you were a grass ocean, swaying. You were the willow, weeping, weeping, and you hum-hummed every lullaby all at once, and it was soft and beautiful and infinite.
And the cradle will fall.
And down will come--
Hey, pay attention!
I'm telling you this so you'll remember.
Because you're weightless now, and you have to remember this so you don't forget who you are.
Eden Jones. Eden Austen Jones. Age seventeen. Daughter to John and Jane Jones. Twin sister to Digby Riley Jones. Best friend to Lucille Bennett. You live in Cherryville, New Jersey, in the brand-new subdivision on the top of the hill, in your parents' dream house. You handpicked the carpet in your room, the paint on your wall. You are a ballerina. You collect quotes from books by people wiser than you, mostly dead. You write down those quotes and repeat them aloud to yourself until they are embossed on your soul. You dream of fame. What's in a name a rose by any other name would smell as sweet it means nothing nothing and everything and youdon'tcareyoudon'tminditatallnotonebit.
Which is why you let go.
It's so damn sweet to be nothing but a riversong.
Patient name: Eden Jones
Glasgow Coma Scale Test
Eye Opening Response: None (1)
Best Verbal Response: None (1)
Best Motor Response: None (1)
Total score: 3
Prognosis: Poor
Excerpted from These Mighty Forces by Estelle Laure
All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.
Gayle Forman meets Francesca Lia Block in this dazzling story about two coma girls and the boy who connects their lives. From the author of This Raging Light , a debut that New York Times bestselling author Morgan Matson calls "remarkable." "Something does exist. I saw. It's a place. Like this but different." "Okay, so let's say we do reach her, that something like that is even possible. Then what?" "Then we ask her to come back." Eden: As far as coma patients go, Eden's lucky. She woke up. But still, she can't shake the feeling that she might have dragged something back from the near-afterlife. Joe: Joe visits the hospital every day, hoping that Jaz, his lifelong friend, will wake up. More than anything, he wants to hear her voice again. But he's not sure anyone can reach her. Eden & Joe: Even though she knows it sounds crazy, Eden tells Joe that they might be able to talk to Jaz. Opening themselves up to the great unknown--and each other--Eden and Joe experience life: mysterious and scary, beautiful and bright.