Waiting for the monsoon

As he was reaching his seventies, foreign correspondent Norland, on assignment in Delhi, collapsed and was diagnosed with glioblastoma, a fatal brain tumor. Instead of despairing, Norland is determined to see it as a "gift," a chance to enter his "Second Life." As Norland recaps his "First Life," he shares stories of an abusive father and the teacher who helped him channel his teenage rage into writing. Working for Newsweek and the New York Times, Norland chased breaking stories, wars, and other conflicts in Africa, Asia, Afghanistan, and Iraq. Although his high-adrenaline life of narrow escapes, constant travel, and demanding deadlines came to a screeching halt with his collapse in India, Norland sees his terminal diagnosis as yet another war to face. He uses his journalistic skills to research the disease, pursue treatments, and keep a determinedly optimistic attitude. His "Second Life" is filled with the love of family and friends and appreciation for his brain and all that it makes possible. Nordland's tale of adventure and hope will inspire readers facing their own life battles.

Pulitzer-winning New York Times reporter Nordland (The Lovers) details the fallout from being diagnosed with a fatal brain tumor in this devastating yet inspiring memoir. In 2019, when Nordland was in India reporting on New Delhi's monsoon season, he was incapacitated by a seizure. Medical tests revealed that the culprit was a stage four glioblastoma multiforme--a tumor his doctor grimly nicknamed "The Terminator." Despite the dire prognosis (only 6% of patients live for five years), Nordland came to consider the news "the best thing that ever happened to me--maybe even if I don't survive it, but especially if I do." Through the lens of his looming death, Nordland came to see how the characteristics that made him a professional success--"the old arrogance, the certitude that dominated my every action"--clouded his personal relationships. He set out to make them right, "exulting" in the power of "love and intimacy" for the first time in his life. In flashbacks, he shares how his personality hardened in the first place: his violent father was arrested for kidnapping and abusing other children, and his beloved mother suffered from his dad's rages. Years into his diagnosis, with no new cancer and occasional, manageable seizures, Nordland writes with palpable gratitude for whatever time he has remaining and provides a stirringly clear-eyed perspective on his own mortality. Readers are sure to be moved by this openhearted account. Agent: Suzanne Gluck, WME. (Jan.)

Fighting back against a nearly fatal health crisis, a renowned foreign correspondent reviews his career. New York Times journalist Nordland, a Pulitzer Prize winner, has reported from more than 150 countries. Working in Delhi on July 4, 2019, he had a seizure and lost consciousness. At that point, he began his "second life," one defined by a glioblastoma multiforme tumor. "From 3 to 6 percent of glioblastoma patients are cured; one of them will bear my name," writes the author, while claiming that the disease "has proved to be the best thing that ever happened to me." From the perspective of his second life, which marked the end of his estrangement from his adult children, he reflects on his first, which began with a difficult childhood in Philadelphia. His abusive father was a "predatory pedophile." His mother, fortunately, was "astonishingly patient and saintly," and Nordland and his younger siblings stuck close together. After a brief phase of youthful criminality, the author began his career in journalism at the Penn State campus newspaper. Interspersing numerous landmark articles--some less interesting than others, but the best are wonderful--Nordland shows how he carried out the burden of being his father's son: "Whether in Bosnia or Kabul, Cambodia or Nigeria, Philadelphia or Baghdad, I always seemed to gravitate toward stories about vulnerable people, especially women and children--since they will always be the most vulnerable in any society--being exploited or mistreated by powerful men or powerful social norms." Indeed, some of the stories reveal the worst in human nature. A final section, detailing his life since his diagnosis in chapters such as "I Forget the Name of This Chapter: On Memory," wraps up the narrative with humor, candor, and reflection. This is a man who has seen it all, and he sure does know how to tell a story. Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.