We Are Inevitable by Gayle Forman (read aloud txt) 📕

SAMHSA (Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration) has a 24-hour-a-day, 365-day-a-year information-service hotline for individuals and family members facing mental or substance-use disorders. Call 1-800-487-4889 or visit samhsa.gov. The calls are confidential—no one will tell your parents, your doctors, etc.—and can help you figure out the next steps, such as rehab options or twelve-step meetings, or offer support so you can tell the trusted adults in your life. According to several studies, many people with substance-abuse problems have underlying untreated conditions (like anxiety and depression), and SAMHSA can help you find mental-health support as well.

If you have a friend or family member who has a substance-abuse problem, you can also reach out to SAMHSA. You might also think about joining an Al-Anon (al-anon.org) or Nar-Anon (nar-anon.org) group, which supports friends and relatives of people struggling with substance abuse. (Al-Anon focuses on alcoholism and Nar-Anon on narcotic addictions, but the struggles with substance abuse transcend the substance, so you would be able to find support in any such group.)

Anyone can attend a twelve-step meeting anytime. So if you think you might have an issue, Google “twelve-step meeting near me.” There are meetings happening all the time—most of them virtual until the pandemic ends—and you can attend nearly any of them.

According to SAMHSA, in 2016, of the approximately one in thirteen people ages twelve and older who needed substance-abuse treatment, only about 18 percent were able to access it. Other studies suggest that only 11 percent of those needing treatment can access it. There are many reasons for this—stigma, denial, proximity to facilities (particularly a problem in rural areas)—but one major obstacle is the scarcity of publicly funded rehab facilities. This is not an accident. Many states have defunded public-health programs that pay for rehab, leaving families like Aaron’s to fend for themselves. If you are of voting age, you should vote, and especially you should vote for candidates, particularly in state government, who support funding necessary public-health services, including rehab.

Whether it’s you or someone you love dealing with substance abuse and addiction, understand that you are not alone. And as you move forward on your journey, whatever it is, try to walk with compassion. Forgiveness is hard. Forgiving others for their stumbles is harder. Forgiving ourselves can be hardest.

—Gayle Forman, January 2021

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

This book is a love letter to books, and to booksellers, so I want to begin by thanking all the booksellers I have had the pleasure to know and those of you I have yet to meet, those of you who have hand-sold me (and millions of other readers) books, and those of you who have hand-sold my (and millions of other authors’) books.

I will not try to gloss over how difficult this past year has been for you all. What I will say is that it has reminded me and so many others how much we rely on you, not just for the books you sell but the great, good places you provide. That so many of you managed to create great, good places in the virtual world speaks to your power. That said, I look forward to seeing you again in the crowded aisles.

Along those lines, I want to thank librarians, teachers, and other educators. I cannot imagine how challenging a year this has been for you, but I have seen firsthand the way you have risen to the occasion, turned destruction into creation. Words alone cannot express my gratitude. But words are all I’ve got.

Writing outside your own experience is both a necessity of fiction and an act of humility, and I want to thank all of the people who educated me and helped me, particularly on disability issues. Thank you to Andrew Skinner of the Triumph Foundation, to Jennifer Korba, who read carefully and thoughtfully, and to Dean Macabe, who did not blink when in our first conversation, I brought up erections and catheters. Thank you to Zoey Peresman for guidance and insight on addiction and recovery issues. Thank you, Andreas Sonju, for helping me make sure I got my lumber lingo and sandpaper grits just right. And to Heather Hebert for reading this book with an open, honest heart and for being everything I love about booksellers in one human.

Thank you to Leila Sales, who pushed me hard on this one. Every time I would hot-potato it over to her, claiming (wishing) I was done, she’d send it back and kick my ass a little further. If you cried at the end of this so-called comedy, blame Leila.

At Penguin Random House, thank you to my amazing team, Christina Colangelo, Felicia Frazier, Alex Garber, Carmela Iaria, Brianna Lockhart, Jen Loja, Lathea Mondesir, Shanta Newlin, Claire Tattersfield, and Felicity Vallence. Tip of the hat to Theresa Evangelista for the striking cover design and Anna Rupprecht for the spot-on illustration. Thank you to Eileen Kreit for ongoing support and good cheer. Finally, a bear hug of thanks to the ringmaster of it all, the incomparable Ken Wright.

I also want to thank the PRH book reps: Susie Albert, Jill Bailey, Maggie Brennan, Trevor Bundy, Vicki Congdon, Sara Danver, Nicole Davies, Tina Deniker, John Dennany, Cletus Durking, Joe English, Eliana Ferrier, Drew Fulton, Sheila Hennesesy, Todd Jones, Doni Kay, Steve Kent, Vance Lee, Mary McGrath, Jill Nadeau, Tanesha Nurse, Deb Polansky, Mary Raymond, Colleen Conway Ramos, Talisa Ramos, Jennifer Ridgeway, Samantha Rodan, Christy Strout, Judy Samuels, Nicole White, Allan Winebarger, and Dawn Zahorikm. Many readers might not realize that reps are on-the-ground champions of books, the conduit between author and bookseller. I’m not sure how they all managed to keep the train on the tracks when there was no actual train but they did, and for that, and so much more, I am grateful.

Thank you to Michael Bourret and Lauren Abramo, and everyone at DGB. To Mary Pender, Alyssa Lanz, Gregory McKnight, and everyone at UTA, and to Suzie Townsend and Dani Segelbaum and everyone at NLLM. Thank