Dear Marti-

I just finished reading your newest novel "Daniel Isn't Talking". I had read a review of it in one of the magazines while sitting in the waiting room of my son's doctor. I must confess, it's not the kind of book I usually read, since my whole life is full of daily reminders of my own son's autism, but I jotted the name down anyway. I must admit, once I began reading the novel, I couldn't put it down. I kept asking myself, "Does this author know me?"

The feelings, experiences, despair and ultimately hope that this mother experienced are all too true. I went through exactly the same emotions, ultimately had my husband leave me, and sacrificed my personal happiness for that of my son and for my other two children (who are normal). I can't say that I have recovered...but I am changed. I have always said that that single day when I was told of my son's autism humbled me forever. No longer was I the former homecoming queen, 4.0 student, ready-to-conquer-the-world type of woman. I was now the woman who had to camouflage the bite marks that her son left on her while struggling to get away in tha Safeway supermarket, the woman who once contemplated handing out notes explaining her son's disability to those disdainful onlookers who thought I was the worst mother.

I became the "psycho" parent, having to convince everyone that her son had something wrong with him, even though he had the most beautiful face on the planet and it was "I" who was indeed crazy. I began throwing up before church, terrified that my son would crawl under the pews and begin licking someone's feet (he loved doing this). I look around my home and see reminders of his pre-MMR days when he had a smile as normal as any toddler's. A time where he could laugh and count in two languages, play peek-a-boo, and give me real hugs.

Like your heroine, I went through battles to reclaim my child. He went from being normal to not talking, looking at me, would want to spin for hours, and would scream when there were more than 4 people in a room. My daily goal was to get the kids to sleep so that I could watch my son's face and pretend that he was normal. I decided that I had to do something positive...or check myself into a mental hospital. With my mom's support, I went went back to graduate school and got a Masters in Special Education and Emotional Disabilities so that I could be my own son's advocate. I became the LOVAAS expert, and did my own ABA. I was lucky enough to be in one of the best school systems of the United States, where he got the attention that he needed. In short, my son is now entering the 9th grade in high school. He is an honor student and is tackling classes like Algebra next year. He is not Aspergers, but rather has what you would call high-functioning autism, much like Daniel in your book. He went from not knowing that I was his mother at 5 years old, not knowing how to point or communicate, to writing beautiful creative stories, and engaging in in-depth discussions about racial issues in our society. to asking the the guide at the Aquarium if sting rays have echoalia much like bats. He is an intermediate level skier, dives off of cliffs on Greek islands, is an avid horseman, and enjoys long walks with his mom.

I am grateful for my son. Thank you for writing such a lovely book. The love story you added gives me some hope in that area as well. I plan on giving it to my "estranged" husband to read, so he can have some insight on my feelings, and maybe see that I was never that crazy to begin with.