It tastes like sunbaked earth that leads to a hidden spring that no one knows about but you. It smells like flowers growing wild and untamed. It sounds like howling at the moon. A middle finger to the only way of life I'd ever witnessed. Grow up. Go to school. Get a job. Get married. Buy a house. Have some kids. Make a lot of money. Buy a bunch of stuff. Work constantly to afford all the stuff. And then hope you're still alive and able-bodied enough to go out and see the world.”

Nowhere for Very Long, The Unexpected Road to an Nowhere for Very Long, The Unexpected Road to an

Nowhere for Very Long is about getting lost and finding yourself along the way. It’s about wearing the go-go boots, swimming naked, and getting a third (or fourth) dog. It’s about falling in love and growing apart. It’s about trauma and fear and guilt and shame. It’s about letting go and living. It’s about healing your inner child. It’s about hope. Even as I stood there in the middle of the road beside that giant orange mess of metal, it all seemed so peaceful. There had been no dramatic explosion, no horrible screeching car accident, no burst of fire consuming her whole. Bertha just rolled silently to a stop one day on a completely nondescript dirt road that sliced through a sagebush field, and it was over.It’s a profitable business, the business of fear. For every terrifying scenario, there is a strategically placed antidote for sale alongside it.”

Nowhere for Very Long: The Unexpected Road to an Nowhere for Very Long: The Unexpected Road to an

Madia is completely detached in some of the sections, especially the section concerning Dagwood’s incident. She writes from what I recognize as a place of self-preservation, one step removed, but it still reads raw. Find this title with Libby, the award-winning and much-loved app for local libraries, by OverDrive.However, pursuing a life of intention isn’t always what it seems. In fact, at times it was downright boring, exhausting, and even desperate - when Bertha overheated and she was forced to pull over on a lonely stretch of South Dakota highway; when the weather was bitterly cold and her water jugs froze beneath her as she slept in the parking lot of her office; when she worried about money, her marriage, and the looming question mark of her future. But Brianna was committed to living a life true to herself, come what may, and that made all the difference.

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We simply traded a set of four walls for a set of four wheels on a Tuesday afternoon in September and the world spun on.” I requested and received an advanced copy followed by a final version prior to publication. (The pub date is set for 4/5/2022.) And, as critical as I am of her, what drew me to and kept me as a follower is only amplified in the memoir; Madia is an extremely gifted storyteller. The desert is such a volatile place that I have often wondered what it is that I find so peaceful about it. Perhaps it’s the silence. Perhaps it’s the ancientness. Or perhaps it’s the sheer intention of anything bold enough to grow there, to thrive there. I wanted to be in the desert, yes, but perhaps more important, I wanted to be like the desert.”But it became comforting to think of fear as a vessel of freedom. I had scared myself right into the kind of life I wanted.” I believe the truth of how we become who we are is layered. Not like onions, but like earth. Traceable at the surface, but tumultuous beneath. Tectonic plates of our pasts shifting violently, or more often subtly, causing great rumbling disruptions in the identities we think we’ve mapped so well.” To Briana’s supporters, consider reading this. I was a big Briana fan and I spouted the exact same messages I see people commenting here, until one day I looked a little deeper and found things didn’t add up. The things I mention here are found in her posts and stories over the years, I am not mentioning any information I did not see myself. of 5 stars 2 of 5 stars 3 of 5 stars 4 of 5 stars 5 of 5 stars Nowhere for Very Long by Brianna Madia But depression, addiction, and suicide were a part of our stories as well; the more unspoken, unfortunate hallmark of those who can’t help but base the value of their existence on whether or not it is seen as beautiful or worthwhile.”