It always gives me a good feeling to see other people happy. . . . It is so easy to achieve.” —Kim’s journal entry, May 3, 1988 On the night of April 15, 1990, Jill Bialosky’s twenty-one-year-old sister Kim came home from a bar in downtown Cleveland. She argued with her boyfriend on the phone. Then she took her mother’s car keys, went into the garage, closed the garage door. She climbed into the car, turned on the ignition, and fell asleep. Her body was found the next morning by the neighborhood boy her mother hired to cut the grass. Those are the simple facts, but the act of suicide is anything but simple. For twenty years, Bialosky has lived with the grief, guilt, questions, and confusion unleashed by Kim’s suicide. Now, in a remarkable work of literary nonfiction, she re-creates with unsparing honesty her sister’s inner life, the events and emotions that led her to take her life on this particular night. In doing so, she opens a window on the nature of suicide itself, our own reactions and responses to it—especially the impact a suicide has on those who remain behind. Combining Kim’s diaries with family history and memoir, drawing on the works of doctors and psychologists as well as writers from Melville and Dickinson to Sylvia Plath and Wallace Stevens, Bialosky gives us a stunning exploration of human fragility and strength. She juxtaposes the story of Kim’s death with the challenges of becoming a mother and her own exuberant experience of raising a son. This is a book that explores all aspects of our familial relationships—between mothers and sons, fathers and daughters—but particularly the tender and enduring bonds between sisters. History of a Suicide brings a crucial and all too rarely discussed subject out of the shadows, and in doing so gives readers the courage to face their own losses, no matter what those may be. This searing and compassionate work reminds us of the preciousness of life and of the ways in which those we love are inextricably bound to us.

    A modern day fairy tale of New York, Your Voice in My Head is a dazzling and devastating memoir, clear-eyed and shot through with wit. In a voice unlike any other, Emma Forrest explores depression and mania, but also the beauty of love—and the heartbreak of loss.

    He avoids taking subways, using elevators, or crossing bridges—in short, he is agoraphobic, which means he is afraid of both public spaces and of any form of isolation. part memori, part scientific inquiry, part meditation, Wish I Could Be There is a brave book about the experience of being afraid.The search to understand his own crippling condition led Shawn into the world of people who study brains and human behavior; at the same time, he looked back to clues from his own childhood. He grew up in one of America's premier literary families; his father was William Shawn, editor of The New Yorker for thirty-five years, and his brother is the distinguished playwright and actor Wallace Shawn. He also has a twin sister who is autistic and who was sent to live in a special home when they were eight. His father led a double life that introduced strict taboos into the household.As he looks at his own life for the sources of his phobias, Shawn also talks to professionals who are trying to decode the ways the human brain—and mind—works. These include researchers who are mapping the physiology of fear and psychologists and psychiatrists still wrestling with the mystery of how we form and change our habits of thought and behavior. Shawn deftly moves back and forth between science and personal history as he tries to solve the psychological and biological puzzles that have plagued him for so long. In doing so, he offers poignant insights into the role of pain, the nature of fear, and the definition of normality. We can all find ourselves in some part of his story.Allen Shawn's droll, probing, and honest book explores the mystery of the many ways we become who we are, whether through our upbringing, our genetic makeup, or our own choices. From inside the isolation of fear, he confronts the universal struggle to face our demons.

    As Professor of Anatomy and Forensic Anthropology, she focuses on mortal remains in her lab, at burial sites, at scenes of violence, murder and criminal dismemberment, and when investigating mass fatalities due to war, accident or natural disaster. In All that Remains she reveals the many faces of death she has come to know, using key cases to explore how forensic science has developed, and what her work has taught her. Do we expect a book about death to be sad? Macabre? Sue’s book is neither. There is tragedy, but there is also humour in stories as gripping as the best crime novel. Our own death will remain a great unknown. But as an expert witness from the final frontier, Sue Black is the wisest, most reassuring, most compelling of guides.