
Me, Mom & the Monster
Corinne Brown
Tellwell Talent (2026)
ISBN: 978-1834383958
Reviewed by Denise Donaldson for Reader Views (07/2026)
Me, Mom & the Monster: Our Dance Through Huntington’s Disease is a haunting read, a first-person trip through personal and family hell. Corinne Brown relates, in matter-of-fact terms, the story of her mother, Mae’s two-and-a-half decades of living with Huntington’s disease, along with the toll it also took on herself, the second-oldest daughter. It’s a journey of suffering most people can only imagine. It’s a history continually written in the present moment. At the same time, it’s a memoir of supreme courage, extraordinary devotion, and overwhelming love. The honest, plain dialogue compels readers to put themselves into Corinne’s place, and even more so into Mae’s, with profound effect. Those two people are the center of the book, with Corinne’s three siblings and father playing only minor roles.
Corinne begins by explaining the pathology of Huntington’s disease; what it means in clinical terminology. That done, she thereafter refers to it as the Monster who attacked and eventually dominated her mother. It’s a creature that must be fought continually. As she says in the introduction, “Once HD is in the family, it is impossible to cut the cord.” Anyone who has the severely mutated gene knows there’s a 50% chance of passing it along to offspring—the threat is always there. The modern era has simply made it possible to quantify the danger. The struggle becomes, then, dealing with the disease versus trying to live as normal a life as possible. Corinne and her family went through all the choices that devolve from the HD threat: getting tested or not knowing; getting married or remaining alone; having children or not. Mae’s diagnosis and subsequent battle put all those choices in sharp relief.
Throughout the narrative, Corinne is searingly honest about her anger and despair, her feelings of helplessness and unfairness. She can never accept what the HD Monster is doing to her mother. She rails against the inevitable, deciding that anger dispels helplessness. Her almost paralyzing anguish is a stark contrast to her mother’s acceptance. Mae never indulges in self-pity; she never asks, “Why me?” Her sole concern is for the welfare of her family. Her worries are about how her disease will affect her children and her husband. Her stoicism and steadfastness are remarkable. She steels herself to endure, acknowledging that excruciating milestones mean that what happens is, “…no longer what I want, but what is required.” Her fortitude is breathtaking.
Isolation and loss of independence are two of the most powerful themes in this book. As the years pass and Mae can no longer participate in the community or even in her marriage, she mourns her aloneness. The Monster takes her socialization and her friendships, then, finally, her speech. One by one, her functions deteriorate, and with each step, she loses more independence. It’s a sorrow to her when she can no longer knit or bake, but then she must depend on a walker and surrender her driver’s license. With Gerald’s death, she must leave her beloved home and go into long-term care. Eventually, she must move from her walker to a wheelchair, the final loss of independence.
During Mae’s journey of isolation, Corinne is unable to focus on her marriage or her friendships, and she largely withdraws from the world outside her mother’s orbit. In the end, both women are shut down.
Likewise, per Corinne’s account, the rest of the family deals with Mae’s illness as individuals. They’re all determined not to add to each other’s burdens, not to cause grief to Mae or to Gerald or to each other, so they all keep silent about their fears, their sorrow, and their anguish. Surely there must have been a few conversations, some sharing, but we never get the particulars, because the story is about the relationship between Mae and Corinne. The entire focus of Corinne and the rest of the family is making sure Mae knows she is seen and unconditionally loved.
After twenty-five years of living with the Monster, the last eleven of them spent in a long-term care facility, Mae quietly slips away, gentle and undemanding to the end. She remained mentally sharp throughout all those years.
Corinne Brown wrote Me, Mom & the Monster as a way to honor her mother’s indomitable spirit and generosity, and also to share Mae’s experiences with other people who have Huntington’s disease, so that Mae’s determination to never give up might serve as inspiration in that community. Corinne also needed to confront the effects of the Monster on her own life and reckon with what those twenty-five years meant to her. She centered her own life around her mother’s disease, and had to find a way to banish it from her here-and-now. At the end, she says that, despite the heartbreak, hope was always a part of her makeup. The dragonfly on the book cover symbolizes to Corinne her mother’s resilience and her own hope for a cure for HD.
Me, Mom & the Monster does a masterful job of showing us who Mae Brown was, and who her daughter is.
At a Glance: A memoir about a family living with Huntington’s disease over twenty-five years, told through a daughter’s deeply personal perspective. Explores caregiving, anticipatory grief, resilience, and the emotional cost of chronic illness with candid, emotionally intense content.
Best for Readers Who Enjoy: memoirs about caregiving, books about Huntington’s disease, family resilience, medical memoirs, grief and loss, mother-daughter relationships, chronic illness, inspirational true stories, emotional nonfiction

