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Identity and Loneliness
Allie’s Adventure on the Wonder follows a teenage girl navigating life with Auditory Processing Disorder (APD) and what it feels like to live in a world where words don’t always connect the way they’re supposed to, and how exhausting and isolating that can be. What was the inspiration for the setup of your story?
For those who don’t know, Auditory Processing Disorder (APD) is a neurological condition that affects the way the brain takes in and processes information. I was diagnosed when I was about two years old, as I was not responding to certain sounds or forming words when I should have been. Despite the name, however, I am in no way deaf, nor do I have any kind of physical brain damage. There is currently no medication or cure.
My novel originally began as a college project at UMD (University of Minnesota Duluth) back in 2012. Childhood in Literature and Culture was a course in which I studied the depiction of young people in various media from different cultures, eras, and demographics (i.e., The Cat in the Hat, Children of the Corn, and The Bad Seed, among many others). For my final project, I wrote an original short story based on a studied text of my choice—Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland—with an explanatory 5-page essay attached. This was the first draft of Allie’s Adventure on the Wonder. (For those interested, this draft is available to view on my website, elatales.com.) As I was working out the plot, I realized that much of the faulty logic Alice displays in Lewis Carroll’s story (her tender age of seven years notwithstanding) mirrors many of the symptoms of APD. Like me, she can be easily distracted, doesn’t always think things through before acting on them, overthinks pointless details, and makes inappropriate or inapplicable comments in a given conversation.
Are there any emotions or memories from your own life that you put into your character’s life?
Several. Many side characters are based on real people in my life, with given or only slightly altered names. (I’d rather not reveal these for the sake of privacy.) Many incidents mentioned also in fact happened. For example, at the suggestion of my speech therapist at the time, I once entered an art contest in which kids had to draw cartoon characters on posters; only after it was all over—another girl won for drawing the speech-impeded Scooby Doo—did I find out that mine, featuring Winnie the Pooh and Tigger, had been disqualified because it was drawn so well the judges thought I had traced it, which was against the rules. (I feature a picture of it in the “Photos” section toward the end of the book.) And my fifth-grade art teacher really did dismiss my drawing of Rafiki from The Lion King before lecturing me on how real animators don’t use How to Draw guides. It can be the most maddening feeling in the world when doing my best is considered too good as well as not good enough, especially by those whose job it literally is to encourage children’s gifts and potential. Even worse is how, even in college, I’d sometimes misunderstand or mishear school assignments to the point where it feels like the teacher is suddenly mentioning it for the very first time just to mess with me when I know deep down that’s not true. It can feel like a desperate gamble, hoping and praying that my work or understanding will satisfy someone else’s unknown/arbitrary standards juuuust enough for them to leave me in peace, never mind give me praise. And even now, I still have fears of how APD will negatively affect my professional and personal relationships and my ability to do important tasks, like paying bills or doing taxes, during times when I will inevitably have no one (with or without patience) to guide me.
What were some themes that were important for you to explore in this book?
Identity and loneliness. If there is one lesson that living with APD has taught and ingrained in me, it’s the old proverb, “Every story has two sides.” It’s easy to talk about how Alice is the one “normal” person in the “crazy” world of Wonderland. But I think what many miss is that Alice is the one who invades Wonderland and makes trouble for its inhabitants, whether in a relatively minor way like insulting/disturbing the birds and sea creatures by carelessly talking about her violent cat, or in a much more devastating way like nearly destroying the White Rabbit’s house from the inside as a giant after effectively stealing a growing potion. One person’s curiosity can be another person’s carelessness. But is one truly right and the other truly wrong? How, when, and why? Where do such distinctions and meanings come from? Who decides such things? Of course, objective, irrefutable truths do exist, but there are times when one can’t answer such questions, with the results being confusing at best and detrimental at worst. This can lead to even more negative and painful questions regarding one’s right to voice their thoughts and whether they have any worth. All too often, we forget that everyone sees the world in different lights, good and bad, and constantly shifting in meaning, or lack thereof, depending on a limitless number of circumstances. More than anything, though, I really want to reiterate through my story that just because APD isn’t as dangerously debilitating as some other conditions, mental or otherwise, doesn’t mean that those afflicted with it are any less deserving of help, guidance, and patience. Nor should they be labeled “stupid” or “lazy” just because they may be more prone to making obvious but honest mistakes than the average person without the luxury of such conditions as an excuse.
Will there be a follow-up novel to this story? If so, what aspects of the story will the next book cover?
I very much doubt it. While I still research APD for my own personal reasons and well-being, I feel I’ve said my piece on the subject and have little interest in pursuing it as far as writing and publishing are concerned. At the end of the day, like many, if not all, fiction writers, I write to escape real life! Not to mention, as much as I adore the original Alice books, there’s only so much I can add or reinterpret considering all the other Alice re-writings and reimagings floating around out there. Right now, besides my story-highlight radio show, The Tale Collector, I want to focus on a speculative science fiction novel, my first for an adult audience, along with some unfinished fantasy short stories that I’d like to compile into an anthology someday.
But of course, never say never!
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But one day, during a field trip on a ferry named the Wonder, Allie meets an odd character named Charlie and sees the creative genius and unadulterated joy that madness can bring.
A semi-autobiography of the author’s personal experiences growing up with APD, reimagined through the lens of Lewis Carroll’s timeless nonsensical classic Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, here is a contemporary fairy tale about learning—and accepting—the methods in one’s madness to navigate the real world.
Allie’s Adventure on the Wonder
When I first picked up Allie’s Adventure on the Wonder, I thought I was stepping into just another quirky retelling of Alice in Wonderland. But it’s not that at all. The book blends the dreamlike strangeness of Lewis Carroll with the raw reality of a teenage girl navigating life with Auditory Processing Disorder (APD). It shifts between surreal, wild adventures underground and painfully real moments in Allie’s home, school, and therapy sessions. At its heart, it’s a story about what it feels like to live in a world where words don’t always connect the way they’re supposed to, and how exhausting and isolating that can be.
In the opening nightmare sequence, Allie tumbles through chaos, waves, monsters, riddles she can’t answer, and it all echoes the frustration of not being able to “get it right” in real life. I couldn’t help but feel that panic when she’s spinning in circles with the rabbit yelling orders she can’t possibly remember. That scene struck me deeply, as it reflects how APD later manifests in Allie’s school life, particularly when she misses instructions and experiences humiliation in her English class. The dream world and the real world bleed together in a way that feels both clever and painful.
The writing is sharp, sometimes biting, and it doesn’t sugarcoat Allie’s experience. The way Adams writes Allie’s inner voice, confused, looping, sometimes self-deprecating, feels so authentic. I liked how her thoughts zigzag all over the place, because it makes sense for someone whose brain struggles to process in a straight line. At times, it was almost hard to read, but in the best way, because it felt like stepping into her head.
Another thing I appreciated was how Adams wove in little moments of humor and softness. Allie’s relationship with her rabbit doll, Leiya, absolutely melted me. She talks to it like it’s alive, apologizing when she thinks she was rude. That cracked me up but also made me ache a little, because it’s such a tender survival mechanism, clinging to something safe when the real world feels harsh and unpredictable. Even when Allie is frustrated with her therapist or shut down by her mom’s distractedness, those small moments show that she’s still fighting to stay hopeful.
By the time I reached the middle chapters, I realized the book isn’t just about APD or even Wonderland. It’s about identity, how it feels to be constantly misunderstood, how you start to doubt yourself, and how badly you want to belong. It left me both frustrated and inspired. Frustrated because Allie gets such a raw deal at times, but inspired because she keeps trying, even when she thinks she’s failing. I especially loved the contrast between her disastrous Shakespeare reading and her quiet pride in her art contest drawing. It made me want to root for her even harder.
Allie’s Adventure on the Wonder feels like a strange mix of fairy tale, diary, and survival story. I’d recommend it to readers who like reimagined classics but want something deeper, especially teens (or adults) who’ve ever felt out of step with the world. It’s not always an easy read, emotionally, but it’s the kind of book that sticks with you, because it makes you sit with discomfort and then find beauty in it.
Pages: 204 | ISBN : 1643435264
LITERARY TITAN 