Seeing that a book I’ve been meaning to read for a long time is being made into a movie is a tremendous push for me to actually remember to read it.

This time, it’s Stephen Chbosky’s “The Perks of Being a Wallflower.” 

The book came out more than a decade ago and I’m pretty surprised it’s taken this long to become a movie.  I know several people who really connected with it — enough for one to say to me last week, “I hope they don’t f@%& it up with the movie.”

Now that I’ve read it, I have to agree.  There are lots of characters we all feel a kinship with, but sometimes a story keeps throwing at you experiences you’ve had, lines you’ve had people tell you and a narrator who might as well be reading archives from your personal thoughts.

I’m not saying my formative years mirrored those of the main character, Charlie, but we certainly had some similar experiences.

This story is about what it’s like to be a little different, to be in view of the mainstream but not inside.  Charlie wants to be like he perceives everyone else.  He wants someone to tell him “how to be different in a way that makes sense.”  But he thinks and reacts in ways that are outside of what his friends and classmates do naturally.  What’s normal and easy for them sometimes seems like a Herculean challenge.

The story begins with him starting his first day of high school, friendless and anxious about what is in store.  He’s got a popular older brother who just left for college and a sister at the same school.  They help him when they can, but they’re so busy with their own lives that those conversations are rare at the beginning.

He makes friends at a football game with step-siblings Patrick and Sam, whom he initially mistakes for a boyfriend and girlfriend.  He’s almost immediately in love with Sam, who quickly tells him not to think of her like that.   

But despite her words, his feelings for her only grow as they become close.  He knows nothing is going to happen, but he can’t help it.  “I wish I could stop being in love with Sam.  I really do.”

Is there a worse feeling?  To understand — to really know — that you shouldn’t feel that way, but you can’t help it? 

There’s so much more I want to say about this book, but that would definitely be veering into the range of things that are far too personal to post here.

Let me say that I knew before I started reading that Sam was played in the movie by Emma Watson, which I don’t think is a bad choice.  But even knowing that, I still pictured Sam differently.  More like Lily Collins.

The story itself is written entirely in letters, which is something I actually once was considering for my writing project.  Since this book came out long before that, I’m glad I went in a different direction.  That wouldn’t have seemed very creative.

My friend Brooke includes a relevant song with her book posts and I’m totally stealing that here.  Out of coincidence, I happened to be listening a lot to a Missy Higgins album with the song “Sweet Arms of a Tune” around the time I was reading.  I think it nails the tone of large parts of this book so well: