books

Review: The Disreputable History of Frankie Landau-Banks by E. Lockhart

Posted on by kellyvincent

The Disreputable History of Frankie-Landau Banks book coverFrankie’s such a great character. She’s so 15—new to many things and trying to navigate a world with changing expectations. And she’s smart and notices things (regarding a party she was excited to be invited to, and frustrated to be ignored at: “The party was boring. It was people standing around in the cold.”), even though she doesn’t generally over-analyze. She is going into her sophomore year at an elite boarding school with a new, woman-ified body after spending her freshman year as an awkward girl (over the summer, she “gained four inches and twenty pounds, all in the right places”). And a feminism-inspired sense of right and wrong is blossoming within her, as well, partially because of her Berkeley-bound feminist sister and partially because it’s just who she really is. The last point is the best part to me. She’s not willing to accept the status quo when it’s not fair.

She is ecstatic when she manages to bag a popular and very good-looking boyfriend (Matthew) she’d lusted after all freshman year. She is genuinely happy and really does like him. But things aren’t perfect.

Frankie remembered how Matthew had called her a ‘pretty package,’ how he’d called her mind little, how he’d told her not to change—as if he had some power over her.

She was annoyed by this, but:

most of her simply felt happy that he had put his arm around her and told her he thought she was pretty.

Everyone can get that—the desire to be appealing and loved is so strong in all of us, and women and girls are used to having to sacrifice something to get it. But there is a niggling doubt in Frankie’s mind, which makes her different from most girls, according to the author:

Lots of girls … are so focused on their boyfriends that they don’t remember they had a life at all before their romances, so they don’t necessarily become upset that the boyfriend isn’t interested [in their lives].

Frankie’s sister is the voice of wisdom who calls out the reservations Frankie’s feeling. When Matthew gives her his old Superman t-shirt, Frankie’s touched. But according to her sister, Zada, “‘Nah, it’s like a dog peeing on a hydrant. He’s marking you with his scent.” Frankie doesn’t accept this, but the sentiment stays with her. Later, it becomes clearer what bothers her:

Matthew had called her harmless. Harmless. And being with him made Frankie feel squashed into a box—a box where she was expected to be sweet and sensitive (but not oversensitive); a box for young and pretty girls who were not as bright and powerful as their boyfriends. A box for people who were not forces to be reckoned with.

All this doubt and frustration manifests in Frankie as a desire for a little power of her own. She comes up with an ingenious plan to undermine some of the “old boy” power that Matthew and his friends yield. Her sister doesn’t think it’s necessary. She says:

‘Are you seriously going to tell me you buy into the patriarchal notion that power is localized in institutions created years and years ago by people who were overly proud of themselves for having the male set of genitalia, and most of whom are either dead or drooling over themselves in nursing homes by this point?’

And then she continues when Frankie doesn’t have a good answer:

‘Please, that is so antiquated. The institutions of male supremacy only have real power over you if you buy into that notion. Go found your own club and tell them they can’t join. Or better yet, drop the idea of clubs altogether because they’re exclusionary, and embrace some other, more flexible way of connecting with people.’

I love Zada, though I don’t necessarily agree with her. Still, it’s what drove Frankie to undertake a campaign to earn the respect of Matthew and others. I won’t go into what she does, but it is clever and entertaining.

The voice of this novel is wonderful. It’s a little snarkier than Frankie herself is but somehow it absolutely fits her story. It’s quite funny at times and I was really curious about where Frankie’s antics would take the club once she wielded her power over them. And Frankie’s whole idea of “neglected positives” and “inpeas” is awesome and it’s so funny when she uses them throughout. Take prefixes off words that feel like they’re negating something, and assume it’s a positive instead of a negative. Sometimes these are real words that just aren’t used as much as the negative form (“gruntled” from “disgruntled” (a back-formation)), or they’re really words that mean something other than the positive (“criminate” from “incriminate”, which mean the same thing), or they’re just not words at all (inpeas).  and so on.

This is a solidly feminist book that really delves deep into the ideas without feeling preachy. Everything is expressed as real feelings Frankie’s having in response to real events. It’s really about a girl choosing to navigate her own path while staying true to herself and learning who she really is, without defining herself by the people she associates with. After all, as one of the characters asks,

‘Who wants to be the guy on the path?’

The author says:

Frankie didn’t—but she didn’t want to be the guy whose idea of off-roading was an SUV purchase or a shortcut across the grass, either.

That really sums up the novel.

Review: What I Saw and How I Lied by Judy Blundell

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What I Saw and How I Lied book coverWhat I Saw and How I Lied is an interesting historical, set just after WW II. It features quietly bold 15-year-old Evie, whose mother is a bombshell while Evie herself is a bit plain. And she’s not happy about it. Her stepfather is a charming sort but when he gets frustrated by something, they take off in the car and head from Brooklyn to Palm Beach, Florida. There, Evie learns a lot of surprising and not-so-nice things about the world and her parents. She also meets a man who she falls for, despite the fact that he’s 8 years older. It eventually seems to her that pretty much everything she believed about her parents and their life together was a lie. Then she’s put in a position no one wants to be: she has to betray someone—but will it be her parents or the man she’s fallen in love with? And what about the truth—how important is that compared to family loyalty?

The story is told with a lot of foreshadowing. We know from the beginning that something bad has happened and that Evie is going back to tell us what, with references to the future spread throughout. For instance, in Chapter 1:

They knew who we were; they’d seen our pictures in the paper. We knew they’d be saying, Look at them eating toast—how can they be so heartless?

and

Now I had to look at it again. This time without me in it, wanting things to go my way.

Clearly, Evie imagines herself having grown up in the course of the book, which she definitely does.

But there’s this fantastic line that I think pretty much sums up being a teenager:

I was an adult now, just like her. But feeling grown up? I discovered something right then: It comes and goes. I was still afraid of my mom.

The fact that we know that Evie and her parents are considered guilty of something, even though we don’t know what, makes us pay special attention to them as the story unfolds. Neither is very likable to me and I enjoyed watching Evie’s perspective on her family change over time. Character development of all the major players is very good.

Blundell does a great job of capturing the atmosphere of post-war U.S. with great language and the mindset. As I mentioned, Evie is a little spunky in her way, even though she is a girl of her time. Here’s a line from poem she and her friend memorized:

Your virtue you must never squander

But Evie’s first thought is that her friend has seven siblings, so her mom was clearly squandering her virtue “all over the place.”

This isn’t a long book, but it wasn’t a fast read for me. It was more of a slow burn, which meant I savored the sense of foreboding all the more. For those interested in the horrible aspects of the past that Blundell explores in the book, she includes a short guide to finding out more. Finally, I should mention that the book won the National Book Award. Overall, I recommend it to anyone who likes mid-20th-century stories.

Review: The Lie Tree by Frances Hardinge

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The Lie Tree book coverThe Lie Tree is a fascinating and unusual book. The idea of the lie tree itself is interesting and creative. The novel touches on feminism, the nature of lies and truth, growing up, knowing yourself, familial love, and fairness. There’s a sense of foreboding throughout that escalates and escalates until the climax. It took me a while to read, but I think that’s because it made me so nervous for the main character, Faith Sunderly, that I would have to set it down. As I neared the end of the book, it was hard to see what would happen next. It’s usually categorized as dark fantasy, but I’d say it’s at least pseudo-horror for the effect it had on me.

The book is historical, set in England in the late 19th century, during the societal and scientific upheaval that came after the publication of Darwin’s On the Origin of Species. Faith is fourteen and she’s just moved with her family to an isolated island called Vane because her father is in the middle of a scandal in which the public reviles him as a fraud for something related to his work as a natural scientist, though exactly what happened isn’t revealed for a while. The plan is for him to work on uncovering a new fossil, but soon news of the scandal reaches the island, too, and everything turns ugly.

One of the big themes is the evil of gender-based restrictions and expectations, something which has clearly been improved on in the intervening century-plus, but which girls and women nowadays still face. Faith’s father bluntly tells her that she’ll never be able to use her brain because she’s a girl—she’ll just have to behave well. A quote from the book that a lot of people cite sums things up well: “There was a hunger in her, and girls were not supposed to be hungry. They were supposed to nibble sparingly when at the table, and their minds were supposed to be satisfied with a slim diet too.” Faith doesn’t want to behave. She doesn’t accept the restrictions everyone places on her and instead gets angry and fights back in the only way she can—quietly and a little passive-aggressively, changing the course of events on the island.

Faith’s father initially does respect her intelligence and commitment to science so she loves him and despises her societally-acceptable mother, so when her father is found dead in a presumed suicide, she’s set on figuring out what really happened. In the process, she explores the power of lies, learns to respect her mother for making do under crappy circumstances, and explores relationships with others. Eventually she does understand what happened, as well as everything she needs to about her father and herself.

Faith is a compelling character. One interesting thing about her is that she isn’t overly likable. She doesn’t always do sympathetic things, and sometimes I wished she’d make other choices. But her choices were always consistent with who she was, what her options were, and how her anger informed them. I should mention that the writing itself is lovely. I highly recommend the book.

Review: If You Could Be Mine by Sara Farizan

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If You Could Be Mine book coverIf You Could Be Mine is set in modern-day Iran, which is definitely a setting I’m not very familiar with, so I was excited to read it. It’s narrated by Sahar, a seventeen-year-old lesbian, which is not okay in Iran. In fact, it’s illegal and the penalty can be as dramatic as death. The immediate problem for Sahar is that she has been in love with her friend Nasrin for as long as she can remember, and Nasrin loves her back. Of course, they spend a lot of time alone and this allows them to make out uninterrupted, so everything is fine.

Sahar’s mother is dead and her father is detached, so he has no idea. Nasrin’s parents, her mother in particular, are a little more observant. Consequently, they come up with a dramatic solution to save Nasrin from herself and the dire consequences if the girls are caught—they accept the proposal of a man who confesses love for Nasrin.

Sahar doesn’t take to this kindly, of course. She hates him, despite the fact that he’s a successful doctor and seemingly kind and even conventionally handsome. She’s desperate to stop the wedding even though Nasrin herself seems a little resigned. She seems to think they can continue in secret even after she’s married. Sahar doesn’t think that, and she instead comes up with her own dramatic solution. Because while homosexuality is illegal, transsexuality is not and the government will even pay for sex reassignment surgery. It seems perfect—she’ll become a man and she and Nasrin can simply get married.

But of course it’s not that easy. Sahar learns more about the surgery itself and thinks more about the consequences. Does she really want to be a man? What would things really be like if she and Nasrin married as man and woman? Also, is Nasrin truly worth that?

Sahar is a great character, increasingly self-aware as the book develops. She’s a little funny, too. For me, Nasrin didn’t come off so well. She was very believable, but a little selfish and silly for my taste. But there’s more going on in the book than the relationship between Sahar and Nasrin—Sahar’s father has some growing to do, himself. We also see Sahar risking her entire future with her fixation on the sex change, so we’re not sure how things are going to turn out. The book itself is a quick read, and I’d recommend it to anyone vaguely curious about homosexuality in Iran.

Review: Where the Stars Still Shine by Trish Dollar

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Where the Stars Still Shine book cover

Callie’s mother kidnapped her when she was five in order to keep from losing custody of her, something she believed was imminent. After twelve years on the run, they get stopped for a bad brake light and it’s all over. Now Callie has to go back to Florida to live with her father, who’s remarried and has two young boys.

Of course Callie doesn’t know him at all, although he naturally still feels a strong connection to her. Given her transient upbringing, she doesn’t have any idea how to be a normal teenager. She’s never even been to school. She’s never had friends. She’s had few healthy interactions with men. She also learns that her mom suffers from borderline personality disorder, a mental condition that is presented as treatable by medication Callie’s mom refuses to take.

Once back, Kat, a girl she was very close to before she was taken, immediately befriends her. Kat’s grown up knowing all about Callie and remembering their friendship, but Callie doesn’t remember much at all from the time before she and her mom left. So their friendship gets off to a rocky start because Callie doesn’t know how to be a friend. She also meets Alex, the local hottie, who is immediately interested in her. In addition to Alex and Kat, she re-meets her extended large family. Because it turns out she comes from a giant and enthusiastic Greek family. She struggles to navigate all of this and is frequently overwhelmed.

I thought Callie was really well-drawn. She isn’t a very sympathetic character in the beginning, but I felt that was very realistic, given her lack of exposure to normal social situations. It was a little cliche that she didn’t respect herself because of abuse she suffered when she was eight, but her growth toward some level of self-respect seemed realistic and interesting. Alex’s characterization was not quite as solid, as I didn’t get a strong sense of his motivations with her until closer to the end—if he was serious or just in it for temporary fun. Kat was quite likable and it was fun to see Callie grow to love her as a real friend. Additionally, Callie’s mom doesn’t disappear from the story after she’s arrested. She is bailed out of jail by her parents and then pops up to cause trouble for Callie, who feels a strong loyalty toward her and can’t decide if she should run off with her again or stay with her new, stable family.

One thing that did bug me was Callie’s mom’s mental illness. I already knew a little about borderline personality disorder and did a little more digging on it, because although most of the symptoms seemed more or less right, it’s not generally treatable by medication. Additionally, Callie refers to her mom going through a manic period, which doesn’t happen with borderline—that’s bipolar disorder. Borderline is characterized by impulsive behaviors and problems with emotion regulation, which are also common with bipolar during manic episodes, but the two are distinct. It is true that people who suffer from borderline can also have other mental health issues, but it’s never mentioned that she also has bipolar. Borderline is treated with cognitive (or dialectical) behavioral therapy because it’s more a problem with perceptions than a brain chemistry thing.

Anyway, that didn’t ruin the book for me, but it stood out. Instead, I focused on Callie’s growth as she comes into a much healthier view of her own sexuality and her relationship with men. Certainly, her father (who is a great guy) helps her understand that men can be good. Alex’s treatment of her also adds to that. In the end, it’s not clear where she and Alex will end up, but what is obvious is that she has a real extended family that she is a part of and she and her mom have come to an understanding. Older teen readers will see someone they know in Callie, even if it’s not themselves.

Mitigated Rejection

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So, a couple weeks ago I had full manuscripts (Finding Frances) out with two agents and one editor. I got a rejection back from one of the agents last week. It was a no. However, she was nice enough to give me a lot of feedback, which is the first time any agent has done this. And she read the whole thing (!). She said she enjoyed the book quite a lot and was very complimentary of my writing ability. She pointed out a few specific weak areas of the book, which was really helpful because some of them are things no one else has noticed before. She also said she was sure I have a future as a writer and didn’t even recommend craft books or classes—instead she reminded me that it’s a subjective business and pointed me to the Writer’s Digest Guide to Literary Agents Blog. This is all nice, because a month or so ago, I was feeling like giving up. It’s a hard business and you need pretty thick skin. The weird thing is that I’m not thick skinned at all, but I have sort of developed it in the writing world. Critique groups are good training for this. Sharing something you’ve written is a really personal thing.

The Art of Character book coverAnother nice thing that happened that same day is that one of my former writing instructors offered to do a critique of a chapter or story of mine, all because I recommended a book on character that he ended up using in his summer writing class. It’s really popular with his students and he felt like he owed me a favor. I’m not sure he does, but I’ll probably take him up on that. I’ve got a short story I’m working on, which I may post here eventually. If you’re curious, the book is The Art of Character: Creating Memorable Characters for Fiction, Film, and TV by David Corbett.

Then, I emailed the original agent back to thank her, and she responded that she’d be willing to take another look if I address the issues she raised. So that is very awesome.

At this point, I still have my fingers crossed because Finding Frances is also still out with another agent and an editor, so there’s plenty of hope. And of course, even more promising is having the list of recommended changes from the original agent to work on. I was planning to only address them when I’ve heard back from the others, but now I’m thinking I should go ahead and make the changes. Either way, I should be hearing from the editor soon, but don’t know about the other agent.

Review: Getting Revenge on Lauren Wood by Eileen Cook

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Getting Reveng on Lauren Wood book cover

The premise of this book is interesting—Helen was betrayed by her best friend, Lauren, in a monumental way at the end of eight grade, which made the promise of starting high school as the local pariah a bit of a nightmare. But Helen gets lucky and her family moves out of state before that can happen, so she gets to start high school in a new place where nobody knows what she supposedly did.

The book doesn’t show the next three years, but we learn in summary that Helen never forgot what Lauren did, even for a second. She spent the whole time plotting different ways to get revenge. She stalked Lauren a bit so she knew everything that mattered to her. Lauren’s become a cheerleader, is one of the It crowd, is very proud of her relationship with a popular boy, and is very active in drama. When Helen gets shipped off back to the midwest to return to her old school—now as a senior—she has a real multi-step plan to get back at Lauren. Basically, she’ll figure out a way to take away the four thing Lauren cares the most about.

So the question becomes, “Is revenge worth it?”

I’m not going to claim that this is a super-deep, philosophical book, but it does take an honest look at this question. Because Lauren’s betrayal really was spectacular, and in retrospect, it’s also clear to Helen that she was never even a good friend at all. Helen was always second best. Helen’s grandmother counsels her against revenge, but she proceeds with her plan. It goes rather swimmingly for a while, until things get a little out of hand. It’s fun to watch Helen try to handle it as best she can, even not everything can be fixed. It’s also interesting to see whether or not Lauren is really redeemed in the end.

I think this might qualify as a nice summer read. I don’t really do summer reads because I am not a fan of heat and sun, but I think I know what it means. So, if you want an entertaining book, go for it.

Review: Such a Pretty Girl by Laura Wiess

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Such a Pretty Girl isn’t a long book, but it packs a lot in a little package. The back cover copy makes it sound like a dark and disturbing story—fifteen-year-old Meredith’s father is being released from prison after serving just three years of his eight-year sentence—and it is a dark and disturbing tale. Her father’s coming home, putting her in great danger. We don’t know exactly why, but we get a sense that something is very wrong. (Actually, kudos to the back cover-writer, because it actually really triggers your curiosity without revealing much, all while managing to remain wholly true to the book.)

Meredith’s father went to prison for abusing several boys in the neighborhood, and everyone hates her for it. She’s a pariah. But it’s even worse than that, because he also assaulted her. And she knows she’s not going to be safe when he returns.

Now, technically, he isn’t moving back into Meredith’s apartment with her and her mom. Because he’s not supposed to be alone with Meredith. No, but he’s got an apartment in the same complex. Officially, he’s reformed and being let out for that and good behavior. But she’s not a naive twelve-year-old anymore and she knows he’s going to come after her again. After all, there were no kids in his prison, so of course he behaved.

Meredith’s mom is a serious piece of work. She is infatuated with Meredith’s father, who she’s been with since she was twelve and he was sixteen. She is basically an overgrown child herself, unwilling to share him. It’s hard to tell if she simply doesn’t believe what he did to Meredith or if she’s only jealous. She doesn’t take the law seriously, either—Meredith’s father is over at their apartment all the time, and she leaves him there while Meredith is home. When Meredith confronts her about this, her response is the classy, “You won’t let it go, will you?” Some people might find it hard to believe a mom could be like this, but it’s realistic—there really are women out there like that. I went to school with a girl who had a mom like that.

One of the obvious questions is, why doesn’t the law do more to protect Meredith? Well, this is one of the problems with the law, really. It’s pretty rubbish at protecting people. People don’t get arrested just for having the potential for violence (which is right, of course). But sometimes the threat of violence is so great that you really do know it’s inevitable, yet still nothing can be done. In Meredith’s case, her mother definitely could do more to protect her, but she is so addicted to him that she doesn’t care. And definitely the people responsible for the conditions of his release could have made them far more restrictive, but the authorities aren’t always on the victim’s side. For instance, a woman with the Iowa Coalition Against Domestic Violence told me about a case where a man drove over his wife’s legs with the car—he was trying to kill her but missed. What happened to him? He was offered and plead guilty to driving with a revoked license. That was it. So although it’s unlikely Meredith would have been left so completely unprotected, it is feasible.

Fortunately, Meredith does have some allies in the complex. One is her boyfriend, Andy, and the other is a former cop (the one who arrested her father) named Nigel. Andy was one of Meredith’s father’s early victims, and his mother is out to get him for it. Andy wants to help protect her from her father, but he has his own life to live and sort of abandons her right after her father arrives. Nigel helps her figure out her options. She also has a grandma in town, but she’s not exactly aggressive in trying to ensure Meredith’s protected. It’s a little odd that she doesn’t try harder, but again, totally feasible. Not all families are functional.

In the end, Meredith solves the problem herself. The book wasn’t exactly a joy to read, but it was very satisfying to watch a girl deal with a bad situation. After you finish it, you will want to wash your hands. The subject matter is icky.

Review: Before I Die by Jenny Downham

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Before I Die (also called Now Is Good, though I prefer the former) is really a remarkable book. I’ve never read another one like it. It’s definitely the kind of story that stays with you. There are other books about teenagers who are dying, but this one feels different.

Tessa is sixteen and she has terminal leukemia. She has months left to live and is struggling with what to do with herself in her time left. She makes a list of things she wants to experience before she dies. They are pretty reasonable to me, given her age, even if some seem silly: to have sex, say yes to everything one day, break the law, be famous, drive, get her parents back together, and finally experience love. She’s a very level-headed girl and knows that the last is impossible in her situation, but a last bit of bittersweet luck allows her to meet a boy who does fall for her.

We’re dropped right into Tessa’s world. She’s been dealing with the cancer for four years and she’s sullen and feeling a little sorry for herself, but who wouldn’t be? She feels cheated and is having a hard time dealing with it. When she starts focusing on carrying out the items on the list, she finds they don’t bring her the satisfaction she hopes for. She starts paying attention to other things and notices little details about the world that most of us miss, imbuing them with personal importance. A bird flying in a straight line across the sky; light bursting through a hole in a cloud.

One of my favorite things about the book is her dad. He’s so sweet despite the fact that he is heartbroken. He really listens to Tessa in a way I think many parents would struggle to do in the same circumstances. She can say one thing and he knows that she really means something else. He’s trying to still parent her even while giving her a great deal of autonomy since they all know there’s no point in teaching her things about life since she’s not going to get to live it. He sets rules, she disobeys him, and he forgives her. The other characters are also good. There’s her insensitive eleven-year-old brother who alternates between telling her horrible things and expressing his love for her in his awkward way. Her friend Zoey isn’t the nicest person, but she’s a friend and she’s got a lot going on in her own life. Tessa’s mom is never going to win mother of the year, but she is believable and finally sort of comes through in the end. Then there’s Adam. The one weakness in the book to me was that I didn’t quite see why he fell in love with Tessa, but if you just accept that that sometimes happens, it works and he’s a good guy.

There was a quietness to the writing itself that made the experience of reading it more powerful. Through the book, Tessa experiences several rages and if you aren’t paying attention you would miss the intensity of them. But if you are paying attention, they are heartbreaking. The book will definitely take you on an emotional ride. It’s the kind of thing that makes you cry when you’re reading it, then makes you cry again later when you accidentally think about it.

Diversity in YA

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At the RT Book Convention, I attended a session with a rather lengthy title—Staying in Your Lane or Getting Out of It: How to Navigate Writing About People Who Aren’t Like You. As you can gather, it was all about the official It topic in YA—diversity and who is allowed—and obligated—to see that it is improved.

Everyone pretty much agreed that there isn’t enough diversity in YA literature and that something should be done about it. But it’s just not clear what that should be exactly. Most writers of YA are white, straight, middle class, etc. Should these writers start writing outside their experience? That isn’t seen as a good solution because it’s hard for them to make those other voices authentic, which does a disservice to the people who are not being represented accurately as well all the other readers who aren’t seeing an accurate experience of The Other.

Obviously we need more writers who aren’t privileged white people. An interesting question came up: should those of us who do fit that mold stand aside to make “more room” for diverse writers? I feel like this misses the point a little—I don’t believe it’s a zero sum game. It’s not like there is a specific and finite number of possible readers. More teens would read for fun if they saw themselves represented in the literature. It’s really on the publishing industry to give diversity more than lip service. A great suggestion was also made as one of the best ways that all us privileged writers can help: we should help to promote all diverse books. Seek them out, recommend them, review them, blurb them, and so on. Everyone should do this.

Another suggestion is simply to make the world of a book more diverse by putting some characters of color/different sexuality/etc. in there. Like the barista at the coffee shop, or the guy driving by in the Toyota, or classmates. The point was that it should be specifically called out. I think a lot of white authors are afraid to make background and secondary characters specifically one race or another, but the point was that it’s better than just picturing it in your head and letting readers miss it.

I also want to address the idea that someone like me shouldn’t try to write about someone not like me. I think this is silly. If we really believed that an author can only write what they know, we wouldn’t have the majority of modern literature. No historical. No fantasy, no sci-fi, no paranormal. Why are the expectations so different for contemporary? One of the important traits of a writer is definitely creativity, but another is the ability to put yourself in someone else’s shoes and imagine what it’s really, truly like. Because all good literature is about the emotional experiences of the characters, and that requires knowing them deeply.

I think too much emphasis is put on presupposed group experience. As if a handful of shared categories guarantees a single shared experience. For instance, I truly believe that I have more in common with a black middle-class girl from the south-central US who attended a state college and has dealt on and off with mental health challenges than a white girl born and bred in New York who attended Brown and is an eternal optimist. Of course our experiences would not have been the same, but in this scenario I really believe race is less important than the sum of the other characteristics. I also think I could do a decent job of writing a lesbian growing up in the middle of the country, because although I’m straight, in Oklahoma people (very) frequently think I’m a man and when they figure out I’m not, many assume I’m a lesbian. So I have some clue how they’re treated.

I’m not saying that white, straight people don’t have privilege—we absolutely do. But we are also individuals with different experiences and have the capability of listening to and learning from others. One of the examples that came up at the panel was that a lot of books about fat girls have been written—and many of those books don’t ring true for us actual fat girls, because they were written by skinny women.

But I don’t think that’s why—I think it’s because they were written by uninformed skinny women. I have been really fat all my life and suffered for it, but I don’t think that it’s impossible for someone who hasn’t experienced it to understand what it’s like. Similarly, people who have never suffered from depression often don’t get it. But again, it’s not impossible. In both cases, it just takes some effort and a real commitment to understanding. Normal people don’t bother with this—but good writers do.

So I don’t think it’s true that a white woman can never write a major character of color authentically. She can’t do it alone, though. A good mix of beta readers, friends who’ve had similar experiences to the character, and loads of research is necessary.

A couple of interesting sites related to this topic that came up in the panel:
http://www.inourownvoices.org
http://writeinthemargins.org

Review: My Big Fat Manifesto by Susan Vaught

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My Big Fat Manifesto book cover

Big Fat Manifesto (in the paperback edition the title starts with “My”) is another book about an overweight girl. Sort of like the heroine in Dumplin’, Jamie Carcaterra doesn’t carry around deep shame about being fat, though she does carry around a deep awareness of it and how she’s perceived as a result of it. And not surprisingly, she’s not quite as confident as she tries so hard to be. Regardless, for her senior year, she decides to write an entire column about weight and related issues in her school newspaper in the hopes of winning a specific journalism scholarship. But Jamie isn’t stuck in her room, hiding from the world, working on her column. No, she has a lot of other things going on—a couple close friends, a boyfriend, a school play.

The book is set up with Jamie’s articles breaking up the chapters, so we get a lot of her direct voice, and it’s really good. She’s smart and a tad snarky but not overly so. The articles are interesting and show a real understanding of what it is to be overweight in America now, and some of the things that are most irritating about the way the media and people in general perceive and talk about fat people. First off, she takes issue with that annoying thing they do when talking about large people on TV—show obese, headless torsos walking down the street. She refers to the “obesity epidemic” itself as “hoo-ha,” which cracked me up. She talks about the absurdity of sizing for women’s clothing (don’t get me started on the fact that I can’t get shirts with sleeves that actually reach my wrists, but that’s not in the book so I’ll stop). She calls out the fact that it’s become socially acceptable to mock fat people.

For a good portion of the book, much of her column centers around a major event in her life—her boyfriend, Burke, is having gastric bypass surgery because he too is morbidly obese. And Jamie doesn’t like this. She is concerned because of health reasons, but there’s also a little bit of her vulnerability coming into play. If he loses a bunch of weight, will he still be her Burke, and will he still care about her? He experiences several complications along the way, and that and her column lead to some twists in her quest for the scholarship.

Not everyone is going to appreciate Jamie’s voice. She is sort of an angry fat girl with a bone to pick, after all, but I think that the book makes a lot of really interesting points. And it definitely does it with style.

Review: Asking for It by Louise O’Neill

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Asking for It book cover

If I had to sum this book up in one word, it would be ‘devastating.’ I reviewed O’Neill’s first book (Only Ever Yours) earlier and her second book is even harder-hitting. Seriously, Asking for It is a wonderfully well-executed novel with a very important message, but it is agony to read because the story is so depressing. And real.

In the beginning, Emma is a fairly popular and pretty 18-year-old girl in an Irish town. She’s also quite vain and not particularly likable, which makes the book all the more interesting, I think. Her life is grand, full of parties and fun. And one night she does something stupid that alienates her own friends. Then some of the town’s best-loved boys carry out a nightmare assault on her while she’s unconscious. In our woman-hating society, her one bad choice becomes more important to everyone than all the boys’ documented horrific (and quite illegal) behavior.

Really, it’s hard to say too much more because I think it’s important to experience the story as it unfolds. I truly believe virtually everyone should read it (though to be fair, some people will need some guidance to understand the real significance, because they are idiots—not because the book isn’t perfect, which I think it is). The only people who don’t need to read it are those who already fully understand that victim-blaming is bullshit. Anyway, reading it is uncomfortable and will make you queasy because it’s so true. And truth often hurts.

Buy Asking for It on Amazon US

Review: Dumplin’ by Julie Murphy

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Dumplin' book cover

The fact that the main character in this book is fat is important. It is definitely about being a fat teenage girl. But it’s more than that, because Willowdean has more going on than that, seeing as she’s, you know, a person. It’s convincingly set in small-town Texas, which brings another element to the book. One of the things I really liked about it was all the details the author threw in—it really gave a good sense of what it’s like to live in a large body (in Texas, too).

Willowdean is very different from me—for one, she’s relatively confident. She doesn’t let it stop her from going swimming at a public pool, for instance. She’s very self-aware and aware of how she’s perceived but has just not let that get to her too much. But the main reason I found her confidence believable was because there are chinks in it. There’s a scene where she’s kissing Bo and he touches her side—where there is some noticeable fat—and she recoils, afraid he’ll “know”. Of course this is ridiculous because he already knows she’s big by looking at her, but it’s also totally natural on her part. Also, she assumes Bo is inherently better than she is because he’s a jock. She can’t really believe he likes her back—she thinks he’s just slummin’ it with a girl who’s convenient, basically (since they hang out after work). When something changes that dynamic, she assumes she’s going to be tossed to the side so she takes preemptive action, which I sort of understood (though I still felt like she overreacted, given the circumstances).

The book obviously deals with that relationship, but there are several other things going on (that take up more space, too). The pageant is the big one, but it ties in directly with her relationship with her mom. Willowdean thinks her mom doesn’t love her as much as she would a healthy-sized daughter, which is probably true. Also important is her friendship with her best friend Ellen, which is suddenly on hold basically because of something really selfish Willowdean says. Again this comes from those old insecurities. Those things have to get resolved.

I didn’t get super into the whole pageant thing as I do dislike them. But the book has an interesting, somewhat ambivalent take on them. Because the friends Willowdean ends up doing the pageant with are all different, and one of them does take it seriously. Also, there’s Dolly Parton all through the book, which is definitely different. On the whole, it’s a unique book in YA and I’d recommend it.

Buy Dumplin’ on Amazon US

Review: Jersey Angel by Beth Ann Bauman

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Jersey Angel book cover

Jersey Angel is different from most YA books because, frankly, there’s a lot of sex in it. It looks like a fun summer read, with a girl in a bikini at the beach on the cover. But it isn’t that, really. It’s definitely not for everybody, because the protagonist isn’t a super sympathetic character. Seventeen-year-old Angel is promiscuous and not a very good friend at all. But it’s raw and true to some teens’ experiences.

Angel has a couple of younger half-siblings she’s close with and her chill mom gives her way more freedom than a lot of teens have. She sort of has her own house, after all, except during the summer when her family rents it out to tourists. She also has two half-sisters on her dad’s side and strained relationship with her stepmom. She works occasionally but spends most of her free time at the beach and riding her bike around to hang with her various friends.

Angel lives for pleasure and barely bats an eye when her best friend’s boyfriend surprises her one night with a kiss. She enjoys sex and doesn’t want anything more than that out of a relationship, even though her semi-boyfriend Joey wants to make their relationship official. She finds it baffling that he’s called things off because she won’t. I get the feeling that him breaking up with her is the first hit her confidence has taken. Still, she’s oblivious to how shallow she really is. When she takes up with her friend’s boyfriend for real but in secret, she does feel bad, but it doesn’t stop her. Angel does grow over the next few months, but the novel doesn’t go where you’d expect it to. It’s just a nice little portrait of real life, bad choices and all.

Bauman does a great job of making a not-very-likable girl who’s about as different from me as possible into someone I at least find interesting to read about. The dialogue is spot-on—Bauman really nails Angel’s voice, as well as the other characters’. There are also all the little details that make her world real (Joey’s new interest in fancy cheese made me laugh).

Buy Jersey Angel on Amazon US

Review: The Miseducation of Cameron Post by emily m. danforth

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The Miseducation of Cameron Post book cover

The Miseducation of Cameron Post is a pretty unusual book for contemporary YA. First, it’s pretty long. It reads more like a memoir than a novel. I would classify it as literary fiction. I think maybe it’s a little short on clear traditional plot.

But none of those things means it’s not great.

The novel starts with a 12-year-old Cameron, who has her first kiss—with a girl—in the first few pages. Soon her world is shaken by the death of her parents, bringing in her aunt as her caretaker. We don’t see much of her life before her aunt, so it’s hard to know exactly how truly different things end up being, but we do know that her aunt is much more religious than her parents. This high religiosity—and the relatively conservatism of the Montana city they live in—means Cameron tries not to really think about what she knows about herself and how different she is from everyone around her. Eventually, she gets found out about halfway through the book and her aunt sends her off to a radical school.

It sort of ends up like two books, because the only thing that’s not different about the second half is Cameron herself. The setting, the characters, the goals—everything else is new. The two halves read a little differently, too, with the second half faster-paced despite the fact that it focuses on a shorter period of time.

Regardless, I did read the book very slowly, but it was more to savor it the experience than because it didn’t hold my interest. It seemed to demand a slow read, in fact—I needed to digest it piece by piece. I should also mention that while it may be a novel about growing up a lesbian girl, but it didn’t necessarily feel like a coming-out book. It’s more about accepting and embracing who you really are. Personally, I found it really easy to relate to Cameron’s “differentness.” It didn’t hurt that she was born just two years later than I was, so her pop culture references were very familiar, but it was more about the fact that she just didn’t identify with the standard expression of femininity.

Buy The Miseducation of Cameron Post on Amazon US