POWER IN CHAOS

A millennial author centers his childhood trauma and later recovery in this debut memoir.

“I have realized,” writes 28-year-old Darland, that “trauma will always be a part of me, but it will never define me.” The book begins during the author’s senior year at Twin Cedars High School in rural Bussey, Iowa, in 2013, following one of many physical confrontations between him and his stepfather. Later, the author says that he showed up to high school drunk after chugging a bottle of Jack Daniel’s stashed under his bed: “Yes, I became an alcoholic at a young age,” Darland notes. It’s revealed that addiction runs deep in the author’s family; both his father and stepfather battled meth addictions, and his grandfather was arrested for dealing drugs and killing a passenger in a car accident while driving under the influence. The children of extended family members floated in and out of Darland’s childhood home, including his cousin Jo-Jo, who lived with them because of his aunt’s heroin addiction. Darland blends brutal honesty with empathy while reflecting on his family, noting, “Broken people only know one thing, and that’s hurt.” The author spends much of the book’s second half describing his journey to overcome his difficult childhood and the depressingly low expectations that the adults in his life had for him. He spent 12 years in the Iowa Army National Guard, and he surveys his on-again, off-again community college experience in detail, from his difficulties navigating the bureaucratic labyrinth of financial aid paperwork to the completion of his degree as an honor student. The book concludes with Darland’s personal triumphs, which include starting a family and founding a construction company called HomeRevisions; the book’s final chapter focuses on a home improvement project on which he worked closely with a client.

However, Darland’s memoir doesn’t focus on self-congratulation, as many remembrances tend to do. Instead, it refreshingly offers its readers an unvarnished examination of some of the defining characteristics of life in the early 21st century, effectively presenting an account of experiences that other working-class Americans who came of age in the early 2000s may find relatable. Among its topics are the role of the military in the lives of young men in rural communities, and the devastation of the meth epidemic in some of those same places. Coming in at 150 total pages, it’s a brief but highly accessible book whose vulnerable writing style blends raw descriptions of traumatic events with an optimistic outlook—specifically, that the power of hope can reshape a person’s future. The book itself was written in the hope that readers will “find my story to be a guide as you discover your own power,” and it provides down-to-earth, pragmatic advice that will particularly appeal to readers who’ve endured similarly dysfunctional childhoods. The memoir’s sensible self-help guidance is earnest but never preachy as it extols the benefits of lifting weights, seeking therapy, and finding the courage to overcome hardship.

A poignant snapshot of a young man’s troubles, choices, and achievements.