The taste of beef is dark blue. The smell of almonds is pale orange. And when tenor saxophones play, the music looks like a coiling snake-ball of lit up purple neon tubes.

As both a synesthete and an academic researcher of synesthesia myself, I strongly applaud Wendy Mass’s book A Mango-Shaped Space. It is my hope that this book will be read by every pediatrician and grade school teacher.

Unlike some other current non-synesthete authors who have attempted to create synesthete characters, from the start, Mass determined that she wanted strict accuracy in her depiction of Mia Winchell’s condition, and thus sought out synesthetes and researchers to gain as much of that precision as she could. Mass and I corresponded for months, she burying me with questions and I trying to provide answers and references, clear up misconceptions, tweak descriptions, and give insights into certain lesser-known nuances. Going beyond that, she also joined an international correspondence group for synesthetes and researchers, and kept careful note of the overlaps and differences in what the various group members wrote.

The end result is that Mass’s character Mia Winchell is a very accurate depiction of a teenage multiple synesthete. I greatly appreciate that Mass provided Mia with two of the far most common types of synesthesia, colored letters and numbers (graphemes), and colored sounds, rather than becoming enamored of the far more rare forms, such as synesthetically tasting things you touch or synesthetically feeling different touches on your body for each of the different odors you smell. This makes Mia far more “typical,” and the book much more relevant. Synesthetically seeing colors for pheromones or other chemicals (odors) in the air is far more rare, but also quite within the realm of possibilities; I have a variant of this type of synesthesia myself. Although Mia has a few peculiarities as to how certain aspects of her synesthesia works, all in all, Mass’s depiction of Mia remains wholly within the realm of the possibilities documented in many case reports of actual synesthetes. It makes Mia far more convincing and believable.

I also like the way Mass deals with Mia’s “coming out of the closet” to her family and friends about her synesthesia. Again, Mass handles this matter very accurately and realistically. Such situations are not the experience of every synesthete. For example, since synesthesia is most probably in part genetic, passed down apparently on the mother’s side, there have been many families where one or both of the parents, plus perhaps a brother or sister, were also synesthetes, providing a fairly accepting atmosphere for a teen with the condition. However, since synesthesia is rather rare, and still unfortunately quite unknown to most general medical practitioners and grade school teachers, far more often, the teen is very much alone, facing the often harrowing question of “Why am I different?” The scene in the cafeteria, with everyone asking, “What color is my name?” is very familiar to me, too, and handled quite well by Mass.

For many years, people have asked me, “Why study such a rare neurological condition?” Granting that studying synesthesia is fascinating just because of how bizarre, unusual, and fun certain types can sometimes be, it also holds interest to neurologists, linguists, and other scientists for what insights it may shed on other indirectly related conditions such as certain types of autisms, epilepsies, migraines, schizophrenias, and phantom limbs, as well as providing us in general with sometimes radically new views as to how the brain works and how we shape our cognitive perceptions.

However, to me, these things are quite secondary. What is by far most important to me is that there are people out there—particularly young people—who have one or more types of synesthesia and who have no one around to tell them what is going on, that they are not “going crazy,” nor are they “brain damaged,” and that, although their perceptions of the world are somewhat different than others’, difference is okay. These people need to meet someone like Mia, who also comes to find that being different is okay—and sometimes sort of fun!

We really don’t know yet how rare or common various types of synesthesia are yet. We are, however, quite certain that the numbers are severely under-reported, mainly due to fear of ridicule, ostracism, or worse—such as forced “treatment” or institutionalization. This is tragic, since all forms of synesthesia are harmless and, furthermore, neurologically, may be considered within the realm of “a normal variant” rather than a “defect.” I think my favorite part of the whole book is when Dr. Jerry Weiss replies, “There is nothing wrong with her.”

This book will play a major role towards patching a hole that desperately needs to be filled.

As an aside, however: The sounds my cat Ming makes are distinctly emerald green and sapphire blue, and have never been any shade of yellow-orange!

But that’s just me and my cat. And Mia’s right when she says French horns sound school bus yellow.