Books On Self Help Novels & Stories

Ryan leans back, staring out the window at the fading city lights, his mind a jumbled mess of frustration and exhaustion. He feels Emily’s hand creep over to his knee, but he doesn’t respond, too tired to even muster up a reaction. ~~~ Later that night, Ryan sits up in bed, the dim light casting shadows over the pages of a self-help book. How to Avoid Divorce: A Complete Guide for Reconnecting. His eyes skim the lines with mounting frustration. The author seems to dance around the real issues, suggesting small acts of kindness and communication strategies, none of which feel remotely applicable to his fractured, turbulent life.

I did you a favor by using my photo, and you don't even appreciate it! I was at a loss for words. My face might have been plain, but I had been listed among the top ten prettiest girls in middle school on a popular review site before. Sadie had not always been this crazy. Ever since she started streaming to please her oddball viewers, she had been changing her appearance to look more and more outrageous. They all praised her, calling her a beauty in her streams. I needed to figure out how to explain this mess to my boyfriend. Our relationship might have started online, but I knew who he really was.

Damn, Freckles. The first book I pulled out was called “Images You Should Not Masturbate To”. I snorted, flipping through a couple of pages and shaking my head. That sarcastic streak of hers ran deep. I grabbed another, the title catching my eye: “How to Traumatize Your Children: 7 Proven Methods to Help You Screw Up Your Kids Deliberately and with Skill.” I let out a short laugh, one that came from somewhere I’d almost forgotten existed. Then there were the others—Fancy Coffins to Make Yourself, Do-It-Yourself Coffins for Pets and People, and, for good measure, How to Raise Your IQ by Eating Gifted Children. I shook my head, glancing back at her still sleeping form.

Does he think this is some game, walking in here like nothing happened like he didn’t shut me out and hurt me? I finally reach the row of shelves stacked with books, the bold label ‘SELF HELP’ hanging over the top. I stop there and fold my arms over my chest, not turning to look at him. He wanted a book on second chances and forgiveness? Well, here’s a whole damn section full of them. “I don’t know which one to go for. I think I need a little expert help,” his voice comes from just behind me, too close. It brushes the back of my neck and I can feel him right beside me, close enough that his scent wraps around me.