If you're ready to get cerebral while also being hypnotized by prose,
this slim memoir is perfect. Golberg writes about isolating herself in
the night, rejecting the world's attachment to day. The dark brings on
all kinds of meditation on psychology, death, art and what it means to
be awake. This might be the ultimate quarantine read. -- Seattle
Times? Have you had a reason to avoid the morning? To wish you didn't
have to wake up and face your life? For Stefany Anne Golberg, the
morning itself became a possibility she could no longer tolerate, and at
age fourteen she erased it all together. In a ranch house in a Vegas
suburb, Golberg's peculiar brand of insomnia lives alongside an ailing
father, a professor on permanent leave from the local university. Her
mother has moved out, her older brother has gone to college, and she is
alone with the night, resisting the fundamental unit by which we measure
our lives: the next day itself. Startling, poignant, and harrowing,
Golberg's voice is informed by an eclectic range of interests, from
Bruegel to Jung, Loren Eiseley to Marina Tsvetaeva. Equal parts
coming-of-age memoir, art history, and philosophical inquiry, My
Morningless Mornings is a young person's reckoning with consciousness.
