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Stewart Foster has a long list of titles that draw readers into the fullness of life – from deep struggle to downright jubilation and everything in between.

His newest title Pieces of Us is written for an older audience than previous titles.  It will take hold of readers’ hearts and break them open – you very well might cry.  And to be honest what Stewart has written for us to share here about why he wrote this book might make you cry as well.

Thank you Stewart for this book and this blog.

NB: Please be aware this book is for older teens and does includes themes of disordered eating which some readers may prefer to avoid.

Not a synopsis, more a Reasons Why.

When I was asked the above question, I was going to sit here and type up my answer, in maybe 1500 words. But then I realise I have answered the question a long time ago after a lunch meeting with Rachel Denwood at Simon and Schuster. During that time, we got to talking about eating disorders… perhaps it was just how I was feeling at the time, a conversation about a girlfriend when in my teens, or simply the nervous way I’d been pushing my food around my plate. All I know was that conversation became way more emotional than any other publisher meeting.

On my train journey home, I couldn’t get the conversation out of my head, the stuff about drastic weight loss, dysmorphia, bulimia – things my girlfriend had done, but there was one huge thing I couldn’t get out of my mind. I had lied to Rachel, I had made that girlfriend up, because all the things I said she had done, were all the things I did when I was eighteen.

The next morning, I sent an email to Rachel, apologising for lying and along with it I attached a letter, and rather than summarize it, I thought the best thing to do is to share it here with you now.

Rachel, this is not a Synopsis, more an explanation and reasons why.

When I was sixteen, I met a boy at college. His name was XXXX. By some weird fluke we chose exactly the same ‘A’ level subjects. After barely speaking for a term, one day, he caught me up as I walked home. We chatted about how we were both hating English Literature, and that we wanted to write our own stuff. I told him I wrote lyrics, that no one had ever read them, they were just piled into plastic bags, under my bed. He told me he played guitar and sang covers because he couldn’t write lyrics to save his life.

The next day I met him at break, showed him some of my lyrics. He loved them, took them home, then at the weekend, invited me to his house. We became pretty much inseparable, confiding stuff, him telling me he was pretty sure he was gay, me telling him I was eating and then puking my food up (Totally unaware of it being Bulimia). I’d been doing it for six months before I met him. He said he had no idea, no one did, and why was I doing it, when I looked okay.

We spent most of summer writing and playing music, him getting more confident, started doing the voices of characters and reading my poetry out loud in poetry club. But all the while I was still making myself ill, my weight dropping away, though still feeling huge. He was struggling with the secret of his sexuality but somehow, we both got through. But one evening as we hugged before saying good-bye, he said he could feel my ribs, said he would go with me to see a doctor.  We had a huge argument, where I was in complete denial.

He moved away with his parents at the start of the next term, promised we’d keep in touch, and he so tried… Sent me letters, called me at home. But all the while I felt my deceit was costing me the best friend, I ever had… A one-way friendship where he would stop at mine, but I could never travel to his.

He died at the age of 21. Left the biggest hole behind.

So. Rachel, maybe i want to make up for a mistake, for all those lies, even though I know it might be the hardest thing to write. But I want to, so that others in the same situation now, can see a way out, so their friends and family can get a better understanding of what is going on, and not hide their feeling away under a bed in lines of poetry like I did for all those years.

It might be a forlorn hope, but I think it would be amazing if we could do that.

Rachel replied. ‘Stew, we need to talk.’

And we did.

And I wrote, Pieces of Us.

~

You can read more about Pieces of Us and some of Stewart’s other award winning and nominated titles by clicking below.