Daisy Rain Martin

Yesterday, I was immensely privileged to have Daisy Rain Martin guest post for me. Today, I have the honor of reviewing her book Juxtaposed. Full disclosure: Daisy herself sent me a copy, though it was not in exchange for a review. We have never actually met in person, though I hope to remedy that!

Juxtaposed is Daisy’s personal narrative of her journey out of an abusive environment. She doesn’t mince words–she is brutally honest about the harm done to her. For that reason, many people might find that her story elicits their own strong reaction. For some, it may be triggering due to their own history. While I highly recommend this book, it is with caution that the reader should examine him- or herself and decide if reading it is a good idea.

I have long been an avid reader of memoirs. I’ve read people’s stories about self-harm, disordered eating, brain surgery, heart transplants, devastating autoimmune diseases, mental illness, and autism. I have been touched by all kinds of people. The two things I take away each time are a greater understanding of something I’ve never experienced myself and a greater capacity to examine my own life. The best memoirs help us to see both ourselves and others more clearly.

Juxtaposed is no exception; it is every bit as good as every other memoir I’ve read. The first thing I noticed, straight from the first page, is that Daisy writes like she’s sitting down to have a conversation with you. Out of the gate one senses someone warm and personable. And we immediately have a sense of who this woman is–she is descended from show business, and consequently her personality matches. I was delighted with her style.

The second thing is that although the title of the book refers to the combination of Vegas show biz and an abusive religious household, the story itself is also a juxtaposition. Although Daisy paints a picture of horrific childhood abuse, she does it not with angry, black slashes but with bold, vivid colors. There is a thread of confidence and humor and warmth running through the book. It is at once horrifying and inspiring.

I admit, this book is a tough read, despite the humor and the healing power of love and faith. My own childhood looked vastly different from Daisy’s. When the rest of the world was hard and cruel, home was my safe haven. I cannot imagine growing up feeling unsafe under my own roof and among the people I called family. Yet at the same time, I can related to feeling unsafe in a religious environment. I think that despite the fact that we all may approach reading Daisy’s words from different places, we can still find our own experiences reflected back in her raw emotions.

There isn’t a good way to sum up this story. You really need to read Daisy’s words for yourself. She weaves rage, sadness, and joy together throughout the pages, expertly binding them with a hefty dose of love. Despite the abuses she’s survived, she makes a point of telling her readers, often in reverent detail, about the people who have been instrumental in her healing. In fact, she spends more time on the people who have loved her than on those who have inflicted pain on her.

As you read, bear in mind that this is Daisy’s journey. She isn’t offering weak platitudes or sage advice on how anyone else can find wholeness. You won’t find the Ten Steps to a Healthier You in these pages. She never hints that the way she chose to heal should in any way be someone else’s choice. She understands and respects (and says as much outright) everyone’s need to find their own path. Hers began, and continues, with her faith; therefore, she tells us just how that faith sustained her and shaped her.

I hope you will take the time to read Juxtaposed. You can read a sample of the book here, or order a copy here. I can’t recommend this book strongly enough. You can also request a copy of her free book, If It’s Happened to You, at her web site.

Today I am privileged to have the amazing Daisy Rain Martin guest posting for me. We met online by chance, through writing for Provoketive. She is a talented writer and all-around fascinating woman. I hope her words speak to your heart the way they do to mine.

I Was Silent for a Whole Thirty Seconds

A few months ago, I wrote a smokin’ article for Provoketive e-magazine that addressed the slew of anti-public school trash talk that followed the Newtown tragedy in the name of Jesus. You can read it at your own risk here: (That last paragraph was a doozy, let me tell you…)

http://provoketive.com/2012/12/17/thirty-seconds-of-silence/

I got mixed reviews, to say the least. Many people understood my angst, but others, whom I love and cherish and would never hurt to save my life, were less inspired. Insulted would be closer.

I’m not looking to rehash the argument of the public school system being to blame for our societal ills. Public schools have never inhibited a student’s freedom to pray freely and it is not the Great Satan. I don’t need to take that discussion further with people who will never see it any other way. I do believe, however, that the discussion that followed on that thread was amazing and begged some great questions:

What’s a girl to do when she sees that a portion of the church adheres to paradigms that she knows in her knower aren’t true? What’s a girl to do when it feels to her that the church has taken that collective paradigm and seemingly created a mini “subculture” of thought which makes her feel as if she’s in the wrong if she pushes up against it? What’s a girl to do when she’s accused of being (let’s see… how many have I heard?) insensitive to the Holy Spirit, deceived by the father of lies, shaped by the world, or just straight up simple-minded. I have questioned those subgroups and voiced my opinions, sending the saints screaming into their prayer closets on my behalf, while I scratch my head and try to shake it off. I’d love some wisdom on this.

But you know what? I’m also falling in love with the church again. I see Christ’s body acting with patience and compassion all the time. I was Episcopalian for a day and fed the homeless a beautiful meal (which they do all the time—it wasn’t just a one-day shot) with some beautiful friends. A lady in my church is starting a support group for people who have been abused and just can’t seem to love themselves no matter what. She has a cure! I speak at churches whose members just can’t seem to hug me tightly enough when I tell them my story. They even let me sell my book with the f-word in it! Sweet, conservative, God-lovin’ folks who have read the book—all the words—still put their hands on my cheeks and say, “Bless you, child. You went through so much, and we can see that God has brought you from a mighty long way.”

I wasn’t expecting that.

I’ve underestimated the church. I’ve overestimated the church. When is it ever going to feel ‘jussssst right’?

Carlo Carretto captured my quandary when he wrote, “How baffling you are, oh Church, and yet how I love you! How you have made me suffer, and yet how much I owe you! I would like to see you destroyed, and yet I need your presence. You have given me so much scandal and yet you have made me understand what sanctity is. I have seen nothing in the world more devoted to obscurity, more compromised, more false, and yet I have touched nothing more pure, more generous, more beautiful. How often I have wanted to shut the doors of my soul in your face, and how often I have prayed to die in the safety of your arms. No, I cannot free myself from you, because I am you, though not completely. And besides, where would I go?”

Indeed. Where would I go?

About the author (from her web site):

The juxtaposition that is Daisy Rain Martin stems from being born and raised in a show business family in the bright lights of Las Vegas while trying to navigate her way out of an abusive, ultra-conservative, religious home. [read more about Daisy here]

You can find her books here and here, and you can read her blog here.

__________________________________________________________________________________________

Please join me tomorrow when I will be reviewing Daisy’s book Juxtaposed. Full disclosure: She sent me a (signed!) copy late last fall, but it was not in exchange for a review–favorable or otherwise. I read the book over the winter holidays, and I decided that the review and her guest post would fit together nicely.

Book Review: Juxtaposed

Guest post: Thirty seconds of silence, take two

Let's Be Friends

Sharing

Tip Jar

Shopping Cart

Your Shopping Cart

Supposed Crimes Publishing

Beaten Track Publishing

More Content