TandeWrites

The House For Lost Things is the Patreon exclusive conclusion to The Boy Who Steals Houses trilogy by C.G. Drews, an author and a series that owns my entire heart. They stole it, if you must.

This book was as close as you can get to unputdownable for a book that was published a few chapters at a time each week. It takes place after the events of The Kings of Nowhere and is dual narrated by Avery Lou and Sam, showing Sam’s transition to a life outside juvie, and a life where Avery doesn’t depend solely on him. Sam has to focus on his builder apprenticeship and hurl himself into an extravagant sewing project led by Moxie to raise money to save the house, but his past has come knocking and it’s threatening to tear apart everything he loves.

The dynamics of the De Lainey family continue to be a standout in these books. It’s so overwhelmingly lovely for me to read about good sibling relationships and healthy family dynamics that can still have drama without turning bad. The De Laineys consistently provide hope and moments of light throughout the darkness and still love each other despite the fractures that form. All the De Lainey’s feel like fully fleshed-out characters and have distinct personalities, something that is important to note as there are so many of them. The family has an incredible sense of loyalty and protectiveness towards each other and the people that they’ve decided to keep. Moxie being a teenager who acts authentically like a teenager is forever wonderful to me, and I especially loved how her and Sam’s dynamic changed post-juvie, and how she has the patience and the willingness to adapt to these changes, no matter how hard it may be for her. And, most importantly, we finally learn the baby’s name. Will I ever be using it? No.

Jeremy De Lainey remains the character who owns my entire heart. Jeremy’s character felt like a slow burn in a sense: we were introduced to him in the first book and had an idea of his personality, but his narration in the second added a new perspective, especially as the new side to him unfurled little by little with each chapter. And every single one of those chapters was a personal attack and a stab in my chest. In the third book, he’s not a narrator, but he’s still a very prominent side character, and his snippets of humour and being an anxious wreck who makes impulsive decisions to cling onto a sense of normalcy was one sentence away from being a personal attack.

The House For Lost Things comes with some raw, angry, negative autism representation that we didn’t see in the previous books, and it was a breath of fresh air. A lot of the traits drawn out for Sam and Avery feel very specifically based on their life experiences. Since Avery grew up with zero support outside of Sam, it feels right that he stims a lot to self-soothe. His stims are obvious and prevalent throughout the whole series, but one thing I loved reading was how they changed as the books progressed. Avery’s stims are so self-injurious when we first meet him in The Boy Who Steals Houses. Then, by The House For Lost Things‘s end, his stims are much more relaxed, joyful, and soothing. Because then he is loved, then he is supported, then he is safe. Meanwhile, Sam’s autism is more locked down because that’s how he protects himself. He internalises, he festers, and then eventually he can’t take it anymore and the fallout is a bloody disaster. One of the key ways his autism is presented is through obsession. Obsession over caring for Avery, and of course Sam has his obsession over houses and keys. He’s also extremely sensory adverse, which makes me so soft for him because…same. The main thing to note about the representation is that Sam and Avery are representative of different areas of the spectrum, with one having higher support needs than the other, and the autistic experience is so incredibly vast and complex.

There are many moments I love throughout this book with Sam articulating that he doesn’t want to acknowledge he could be autistic because no one put in the effort to help him like he helped his brother. There’s a scene where Avery notes Sam’s struggle is rooted in the fact that he tries so hard to fit in and be wanted and feel safe, and the fact a lot of his social stumbles are due to autism means he will never achieve that dream of “being like everyone else”. His self-loathing has always been such an intrinsic part of his character from the start. I feel like it’s important to be allowed room to write autism rep that is not pretty and affirming and empowering. We need affirming positive rep the most because historically, autism rep in media has been stereotyped and nasty and inaccurate. We need books about autism where the characters feel loved and seen and wanted. But autistics are complicated, just like everyone is, and we also need representation that autistics contain multitudes and to rage against autism is not always to hate autism.

I will end this review by saying that I have a lot of love for C.G. continuing to work on these books and share them with the world despite all the difficulties they’ve encountered with past publishing experiences. Having these books in my life is a delight, and I especially love seeing how they’ve come out without traditional publishing input: they’re raw and wild and ambitious, yet so authentically the C.G. that I have living on my shelves. In summary, I am lightly devastated that this trilogy has now drawn to a close, and I look forward to any crumb that C.G. drops in regards to this universe, and I will be the first to preorder if they are ever able to publish physical copies of these books that have completely stolen my heart.