Every now and then, a contemporary book comes along that proceeds to fall in love with you, rip your heart out, and place a Bandaid over the wound. All My Rage was that book. I didn’t know a lot about the story when I went into it blind, and to be honest, a lot of content was triggering. I think that’s what makes it so important. This book was raw, real, painful, and a harsh look at the realities of many POC in the United States, specifically our brothers and sisters from the Middle East. The prose in this book was beautiful, each character was rich and full. Even the characters I HATED were so fully written that I couldn’t look away. The story itself was gut wrenching but so damn good. I found myself holding on to this tiny kernel of hope throughout the story’s progression, even when all hope seemed lost. I think that may have been the entire point. Life is pain, struggle. In this, we endure. In this, we are not alone.