At age sixteen, James Tate Hill was diagnosed with Leber's hereditary
optic neuropathy, a condition that left him legally blind. When
high-school friends stopped calling and a disability counselor advised
him to aim for C's in his classes, he tried to escape the stigma by
pretending he could still see.
In this unfailingly candid yet humorous memoir, Hill discloses the
tricks he employed to pass for sighted, from displaying shelves of
paperbacks he read on tape to arriving early on first dates so women
would have to find him. He risked his life every time he crossed a
street, doing his best to listen for approaching cars. A good memory and
pop culture obsessions like Tom Cruise, Prince, and all things 1980s
allowed him to steer conversations toward common experiences.
For fifteen years, Hill hid his blindness from friends, colleagues, and
lovers, even convincing himself that if he stared long enough, his
blurry peripheral vision would bring the world into focus. At thirty,
faced with a stalled writing career, a crumbling marriage, and a growing
fear of leaving his apartment, he began to wonder if there was a better
way.