“In the year of our Lord 2019, thirty-two-year-old Eva Mercy nearly choked to death on a piece of gum. And even if she were to share it, “her disability was invisible…her level of suffering seemed unfathomable for others to fathom” (12).īut Williams makes clear from page one that chronic migraines do not define Eva, rather they are just one aspect of her life. Because of problematic, societal assumptions, Eva hides her pain. However, Eva has a “well-practiced fake-out” she uses when experiencing a migraine in public, shifting her facial expressions and mannerisms to pretend nothing is wrong (Williams, 11). Since she was young, Eva has been suffering from chronic migraines, a disability that requires pain tranquilizers and daily medication. Seven Days centers three important, interwoven conversations: the dismissal of chronic illnesses, the problematic assumptions people possess about disabilities, and Black joy.Ī romance novel, Seven Days follows Eva, a bestselling author, single mother, and Brooklyn transplant. Yet the title is an example of the type of stories such book clubs should be spotlighting. They encourage the necessity of literature and, with their wide reach, the popularity of some critical titles-however, whether they live up to the latter of these is debatable.* To many, Seven Days in June by Tia Williams (Grand Central, 2021) might not have been the “obvious” pick for Reese’s Book Club-a club that has a history of centering stories by white, cis, straight women. On the one hand, these clubs possess a strong importance. From Reese Witherspoon’s to Belletrist to Read with Jenna, there are a number of ways for readers to “read with” their favorite celeb. Over the past few years, there’s been a surge of celebrity book clubs.

Seven days in june novel