Even though I am an avid reader, I rarely latch onto an author. My philosophy is that books are experiences that will find you at the right time, so anxiously waiting on the releases of a select group of writers was never my style. However, I recently made an exception to this rule and couldn’t have been happier.
Emily Austin first caught my attention with her debut novel, “Everyone in This Room Will Someday Be Dead,” but her second book found me at the perfect time. Her sophomore novel, “Interesting Facts About Space,” quickly became one of my favorites after it prompted me to look deeper into myself. That is Austin’s true talent — not only does she master charmingly awkward protagonists, but she seamlessly lets her readers identify pieces of themselves in her characters.
Austin tackles tough topics such as mental health, queer identity and family relationships in a way that makes her audience feel a little less alone. Her added sprinkle of humor feels like a helping hand as I navigate my self-reflection journey while reading her stories.
When I discovered that I could gain early access to Austin’s upcoming novel “We Could Be Rats” through a Book of the Month subscription, I ran to make an account. I never even considered using BOTM before, but I knew I needed my hands on this book. I was desperately craving Austin’s heartfelt wisdom.
The story follows two sisters, Sigrid and Margit, who seemingly could not be more opposite of each other. Straight-edged Margit is a typical people-pleasing older sister who desperately tries to calm the tensions in her tumultuous family. Sigrid, on the other hand, is more prone to fanning the flames.
Her reckless demeanor and inability to bite her tongue often clashes with her conservative parents’ argumentative nature. After dropping out of high school, Sigrid remains confined by her small hometown, working at her local dollar store. In Margit’s eyes, Sigrid’s inability to adapt to adulthood is a significant frustration, but after realizing her sister’s ongoing mental health struggles, Margit begins to understand her sister’s perspective.
Although my personality type more so reflects Margit, I was immediately drawn to Sigrid’s imagination and wonder. In the novel, Austin masterfully reveals the core of both sisters’ personalities through stories of their shared childhood experiences.
As a child, Sigrid’s imagination ran wild. Her basement was a safe haven where she crafted an intricate neighborhood for her Barbies and stuffed animals. Anything she saw became a part of her magical world, like the fiberglass basement insulation transforming into pink cotton candy clouds hanging over her toy village. When her parents violently fought, she imagined they morphed into swamp monsters. Within Sigird’s magical world, the realities of adulthood were thwarted by her creativity.
Escapism was never as natural to Margit. When she played with dolls, she re-enacted adult life rather than create narratives of pirate adventures or superhero abilities. At her core, she could not relate to her younger sister since she was heavily burdened by her parents’ frequent and explosive arguments. This divide only deepened as the sisters grew older, with Margit eagerly bracing for maturity as Sigrid longed for childhood to never end. However, as Margit comes to understand Sigrid more throughout the novel’s events, she grows a deeper appreciation for her sister’s whimsical nature.
It is no secret that growing up is hard. Adolescence marks the first time we are launched into the world without the safeguards of imagination. You can no longer walk up to a stranger and ask to play princesses with them. It is unclear when the transition exactly happens, but there comes a day when all children seem to put down their capes and crowns. For people like Sigrid, it can sometimes feel like the memo of childhood ending was missed. For others like Margit, it can be hard to even remember what it was once like to let your imagination guide you.
Like my experiences with Emily Austin’s other novels, “We Could Be Rats” prompted me to think about my life. I was a very imaginative child. My Barbie Dream House was my most prized possession, and my favorite pastime was performing Hannah Montana and Taylor Swift songs for a crowd of stuffed animals. Thinking about who I was as a little girl is a very bittersweet experience for me. I am incredibly grateful for the memories I made solely through my creativity, but I get sad thinking about how this imagination feels like a lost skill.
Reflecting on her rocky adjustment to adulthood, Sigrid concludes: “I decided deep down we’re all who we were when we were kids. I think being a teenager is about hiding all of your quirks and contorting yourself to fit in and impress people, and being an adult is about re-finding who you were when you were eight years old.”
I agree that we can all benefit from re-finding our inner child. The world would be much happier if we all leaned into our imagination a bit more. On a practical level, this could simply be taking yourself less seriously. Of course, we should prioritize our school and work obligations, but taking time to make arts and crafts or sing our favorite childhood songs with our friends is also important.
“We Could Be Rats” is a beautiful ode to imagination, especially when the world feels highly intimidating. Austin challenges her readers to remember their eight-year-old selves and learn a few lessons from how they once approached life. Hopefully, we can all find our imagination again.