I watched the needle: a "Heroine" review
There's nothing quite like pain. It can be coped with, ignored as we try to make our way through life where we can focus on other things or take some Ibuprofen or another medication via a prescription. But that incessant throb haunts some people even after taking a pill, loving the way pain-reducing medication makes them feel. So maybe they'll take two instead of one, increase their dosage until they recreate the first time they took the drug. Then they become hooked, craving that peaceful feeling, and when things run out, or if they become too expensive, there may be another drug waiting in the wings that could ultimately take hold and never let go. That's the power of addiction. When this book was announced, I was immediately on board with it. Mindy McGinnis has always seemed to write what she wants to, and as such, she's become quite the prolific novelist. I have yet to read her dystopian project or her historical mystery, but the two books I have read from her have been of good quality. The Female of the Species and This Darkness Mine had great writing despite plots that bounced around a fair bit, and from those, I knew that Heroine was going to be the kind of gripping thriller that would grab me by the skin of my teeth, leave me gasping and breathless. And I was correct. Heroine is evocative of Ellen Hopkins' exploration of drug addiction more than a decade ago, but it never forgets its heroine at the center of it all. Mickey's downward spiral into heroin addiction is horrifying and hard to look away from, an inevitable conclusion that will affect her final softball season in more ways than one. The exploration of her mentality and how everything collapses around her is coupled by a dissection of softball, engaging side plots involving well-developed characters, and writing that never glorifies addiction as a whole. To the protagonist, taking drugs may look good now, but to the rest of the world, that's never the case. However, unlike This Darkness Mine and its psychological mind-bending powers, there were some writing choices that rubbed me the wrong way, most notably with an ableist-coded word thrown around and how a minor gay character is portrayed within the novel. This more so has to do with how Mickey sees the world compared to everyone else, though, and it doesn't affect me enough to dissuade readers from checking this one out. If you are a recovering or recovered addict, please note that this novel doesn't shy away from its portrayal of opioid use, so this content may be triggering for you.
Mickey Catalan has a bright future ahead of her. As the catcher for her school's softball team, her senior season needs to be perfect so she can convince D3 schools to offer her a scholarship. But when she swerves to miss an oncoming car in the wrong lane, she ends up needing surgery on her hip. Her friend in the passenger seat, Carolina, only ends up with a broken arm, but as a pitcher, this injury will impact her season, as will Mickey's. While in the hospital, Mickey gets a prescription to OxyContin, and that first pill brings her the best escape ever from the three screws holding her side together. But soon one isn't enough, and when her prescription runs out, Mickey craves more. When she's unable to get more via her doctor, an older woman named Edith provides the connection, introducing Mickey to brown bags personalized with cursive and a girl named Josie who's popping Oxy out of boredom. Soon Mickey meets two boys, follower Derrick and basketball star Luther, that hang out with Edith and Josie, and they all start using Oxy together. But then prescriptions run dry, and Oxy isn't enough. As Mickey's addiction spirals out of control, as she lies to her family and friends about how she's fine, and as she considers whether or not she's happy without the drugs she's grown to love, how much more will it take before her life begins to erode away? First off, McGinnis is quick to humanize addiction. A lot of times in media, addicts are painted in grimy strokes, abrasive and cruel just for the sake of being it to show how horrible drugs can be. But Mickey is human through every step of the way, addiction slowly seeping into her life and affecting the very way she sees the fabric of the world. Soon all she craves is drugs, no longer invested in softball and not even considering a romantic connection with Luther outside of Oxy. Following the events of the book, it isn't hard to see why Mickey favors this. She's incredibly awkward, tall and lanky and unsure where she fits if she's not talking game with her softball team. The Oxy loosens her up, brings words to her tongue that always struggled to form in the first place and makes her forget she was ever in pain. But that dangerous grip as she tries to replicate that blissful feeling, first with pills and then with lines and then with a syringe, is still a dangerous one, and McGinnis recognizes this without making it seem amazing or completely evil. It is what it is, pure and simple and incredibly horrifying. Aside from the addiction, Mickey also goes through the fading of her friendship with Carolina, her inevitable replacement as catcher, sparks of romance and new friendship, and dealing with her family. McGinnis makes each subplot feel as natural as possible to the book, Mickey's life feeling complete and not like addiction is the sole thing that defines her. Carolina's inclusion within the story as part of a Puerto Rican family that Mickey can communicate with in English and Spanish and the distance that spreads out between them once Mickey becomes hooked on Oxy and she gets a boyfriend, a freshman named Nikki who threads herself within the fabric of the team as Mickey pulls away, a budding connection with Luther comforted by the ebbs of Oxy alongside seeing more sides to the brittle and crass Josie, and the guilt of lying to her adopted mom while the mom is still dealing with the affair of her husband and his new wife and son: everything comes together to create a well-rounded narrative where nothing feels out of place. Everything belongs, even though the boyfriend subplot with Caroline is dropped. What helps is McGinnis's command of prose. Her dialogue is always natural and flows on the page, and I appreciate her attention to detail in environments and the minute details in daily movements and thought processes, most notably when it comes to addiction in this novel and Mickey's denial that it's affecting her life as much as she thinks it is. The time jumps in Heroine were also better than those in the two books I've read from her before. However, I didn't particularly like how the word "crippled" was used in reference to Mickey potentially damaging herself to that point as an old lady, as the word itself is incredibly loaded. Additionally, Lydia, a fellow player on the softball team who's a lesbian, is first described as Mickey as someone who keeps on convincing Mickey to be gay, and it's not a good look. However, she's later characterized throughout the book, so I'm forgiving of that, especially because I don't think that was the intention. Heroine, regardless of its minor faults, is still a very great novel. Mindy McGinnis has once again crafted another captivating story that takes a real look at addiction, showcasing one girl's journey without making something it isn't. It's horrifying and harrowing and will be needed to be approached with time and a clear mind, but when that happens, it's going to become a book impossible to forget.