SHIPWRECK

A Christian woman gives an account of the trials of her life and how she overcame them in this self-help guide.

In her nonfiction debut, vocalist and motivational speaker Calhoun conceives of life as a ship laden with all kinds of cargo and also plenty of waste, which, she asserts, everyone should throw overboard as soon as possible. She organizes this detritus under four headings that come together to form the acronym “S. H. I. T.” First comes Shame, “that unrelenting, sneaky little bastard that slithers into your mind and convinces you that one mistake defines your entire existence.” Next is Hurt, which “doesn’t arrive and leave quietly – it sets up shop, redecorates, and builds a nest in your most vulnerable places.” “I” stands for Insecurity, “a con artist, convincing you that your worth is determined by outside validation.” And finally, there’s Trouble, the culmination of all the others, “the storms of our own making when we operate unconsciously out of old wounds.” For each of these elements, Calhoun includes both its “molecular structure” in an illustration showing related phenomena and also a series of “Practical Tools for Release,” things like breathwork, journaling, or finding reassuring communities. Interspersed throughout these observations and strategies are stories from the author’s own life, from her childhood seeking refuge in the bathroom from her short-tempered mother (“It’s the one room where you can lock the door and pretend the outside world doesn’t exist, even if it’s just for a few stolen moments”) to her three marriages, including 17 years with an abusive man named Timothy.

The decision on Calhoun’s part to weave her own autobiography so tightly into her motivational sentiments is canny; it lends an air of immediate authenticity to what might otherwise seem like a collection of sometimes over-familiar self-help stories. This personal feeling is enhanced by the book’s accompanying “Shipwreck Playlist,” songs chosen to suit the mood of each chapter (there’s a QR code readers can scan to play the music). The author writes with directness and honesty about the high and low points of her life, consistently referring back to her fundamentalist Christian faith. “As long as we cling to offense and division, we will remain impoverished in love, trust, and unity,” she writes. “But Christ calls us into His abundance, where healing isn’t just possible – it’s promised.” Readers of Christian inspirational literature will recognize the author’s pattern of attributing everything good in her life (including her own strength and resolve) to God (whom she calls “Daddy”) and everything bad to ill luck, poor decisions, or evil people. She’s appealingly tough on herself in her descriptions of some of those poor decisions, and it’s ultimately touching that such warmth and humanity can peek through even her darkest memories of her parents or her family. Readers will mostly appreciate the hard-won experience behind some of her insights, as when she knowingly pairs pride with insecurity. Calhoun’s advice is heartfelt and often disarmingly straightforward: “Some of us are walking around clutching dead emotional leaves like they still belong on our branches,” she writes. “Let it drop.” The combination of tough, experience-informed counsel and religious faith will likely appeal to the author’s fellow Christians and non-believers alike.

A tender, grounded action plan for dumping the personal junk out of your life.