Wikipedia: The Half-Way Story
Jack Frost's new novel, The Half-Way Story, was not instant bestseller, but overtime has reached its place on literary shelves. In the earliest editions of the book it was titled The Half-Way Story (of an anorexic boy and his lovely, lonely life), which was eventually shortened down to The Half-Way Story in 2012, two months after it came out.
The Half-Way Story is known for its prose and the overlay of humorous overtones against the serious subjects (plural) it covers. Titled appropriately, The Half-Way Story tells itself in minute little half stories. Everything is there, it is just interspersed, told in a nonlinear manner, filled with the vague endings and conclusions that Frost is known for.
As quoted in the last lines of the book, "It's funny, if you look at it sideways." – Jack Frost, The Half-Way Story
The book itself is a non-fiction biography of Jack's own childhood dealing with his lifelong anorexia and his raising schizophrenic sister. One of the heartbreaking truths Frost reveals to his audience is that ED's (eating disorders) are about so much more than just looking pretty.
This is Jack Frost's first nonfiction novel; all his previously known works have been young adult fantasy which
"Jack! Are you reading about yourself again?"
Jack looks up from his computer, from his MacBook Air (portable, fast connections and twelve hours of battery life may he just say because he has apparently become an infomercial), and grins, fast and tight.
"Hey, hey, Tooth. I'm the poor, tortured, hero. Would I do that?"
A gruffer voice responds. "Think question there is have you, and answer is yes, many times. Now, come and celebrate Jack!"
Jack's hands flew out, seemingly of their own accord, shutting the page and clearing his browser history. It was a good idea, because seconds later, his entire door was moved as North muscled his way in.
North did not wait for pleasantries, choosing instead to pick up Jack's slender body and, holding him with both arms in front of his chest, the two of them lumbered downstairs.
"Oi! Tooth! Let me in!"
The giant gripping Jack looked delighted. "Bunny!"
"Oi! It's Bunnymund to you idiots, and Frost? Go … freeze, or something."
"Damn, Kang. Really got all terrified and shakin' right there." Jack grins wickedly. "Still can't keep myself from questioning why we let him around kids."
No one really responds as Jack skips over to the door and flings it open. A wild looking Australian is glaring at Jack and holding a box, presumably, of wine. Purposefully ignoring the glare, Jack reaches out for the alcohol and –
"Why there nothing to drink? Bunny –"
"Aster," Jack warmly corrects, "Come on in. I was a just about to cut the cake." He smiles, joy welling up like a balloon to fill his chest as he looks around the room, around at his family, smiles and cannot stop, not even when biting down into his mini slider without a pause.
The door shuts, on a nice July evening. Two hour later, everyone stands on the deck and watches the sunset, Jack resting his head on Bunny's shoulder. It's been two years.
"I like this ending best," is the first thing Jack tells Dr. Bennet, after she finishes.
"Let's make it happen," she replies.
It's three months of inpatient treatment and three years of intensive out-patient and before Jack can make good on that scene but he does.
It's conversations with Bunny and apologies (and Pippa is still dead, is always dead and Jack still misses her too much on the bad days).
It's North and it's Tooth and it's Babytooth and it's Sandy being his family and trying and learning and knowing what not to say and how not to act and it's even so them when they fuck it all up.
It's screaming fights for seven hours and days tranquil as a still lake, days where it seems nothing has ever gone wrong and indeed, nothing could.
It's long. It's hard. It sucks. But even when it sucks it's better. And it doesn't always suck.
"Let's make it happen," Jack agreed, and it did.
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