Skin Deep

Crane, E.M. 2008. Skin Deep.

First sentence: My name is Andrea.
Last sentence: Then it goes dark again.

Andrea Anderson is a nothing, a nobody, but she's fortunate to be an unnoticed nobody. "That's one thing about high school I've learned--even when you're unnoticed, there's usually someone else with a more painful role than loneliness. Girls who get their bras snapped in gym class, boys who endure a fist squashing their brown-bag lunches in the cafeteria. Both noticed and hated. Sometimes that's a solace, to not be one of them." (7)

She's a sophomore in high school. And her life is about to change forever.

Mrs. Menapace. That "crazy" neighbor down the street. When her neighbor is hospitalized, Andrea ends up with the "duty" (that soon becomes a pleasure) of taking care of Mrs. Menapace's dog. A young teen girl. A large and lovable dog. A woman dying of cancer. (And that's just the start of it.) All the makings for a good coming-of-age novel, right? Well, I think so at least!

The writing is really good. Descriptive yet sparse. Very stylistically pleasing.

270 pages.

© Becky Laney of Becky's Book Reviews

Neptune's Children

Dobkin, Bonnie. 2008. Neptune's Children.

From the jacket flap: "A dream vacation at the Isles of Wonder theme park becomes a nightmare when biological terrorism causes the death of every adult on the Islands. Younger teens and children survive, only to face the resulting horror and the chaos of a world without authority. The figure of King Neptune, symbol of the Islands, unites them as they begin to build a society within the park, safe from outside dangers. Led by a group called the Core, made up mostly of former park workers' children, the survivors slowly organize their world. But when mysterious events bring danger, some of the Islanders begin to wonder if their home is as safe as they think and if their leaders can really be trusted. As suspicions grow and rivalries intensify, the stage is set for a war that will determine the future of everyone on the islands."

Intrigued? I know I was. The plot centers around Josh and his "family." (He's an older younger teen--13 or 14--and he's caring for his younger sister, Maggie. From the very beginning, he pairs up with another set of siblings--Zoe and Sam. Together they form a family unit.) In the first few days after IT happens, there is confusion. But within 48 hours, order and structure and authority are introduced into the theme park. Josh is one of the contributors to the sanity. The "king," the boy behind King Neptune's oddly soothing voice, is Milo. He calls all the kids together and asks the older ones--minus the babysitters--to help him. Josh is one of his volunteers, and for a while he is one of the Core, but his "family" responsibilities soon prove more important than his social ones. Through the course of a year--a little over a year--these kids survive on their own without too many glitches, but soon that changes. Little questions, little doubts, a few things that rub our characters the wrong way. Why? Why is Milo so insistent that no one ever leave the theme park? Why can't they have the freedom to leave if they want? To explore the outside world for themselves?

While some adults (and a few teens) might find this one predictable, there is much to enjoy in Neptune's Children. I found that even if I was fairly certain where everything was going, I wanted to be along for the ride, for each step in the journey. It was definitely a page-turner for me. Reminiscent of both a Star Trek episode and a Twilight Zone episode, this one was a darkly fun read.
© Becky Laney of Becky's Book Reviews

Island of the Blue Dolphins

O'Dell, Scott. 1960. Island of the Blue Dolphins.

If as a child I read Island of the Blue Dolphins, I must have blocked it from my memory. And there's a good reason for that: 1 dead father +1 dead brother +1 dead dog + countless years spent alone on an island trying to survive the elements and cope with the loneliness = 1 book I'd just as soon live without. Sometimes I try to fool myself into thinking that I'm all introspective, that I am happy with my alone time. It doesn't work for long. I need people. Not 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. But given enough "alone" time, I start to go crazy.

Island of the Blue Dolphins is about a girl, Karana, and her slightly unusual coming-of-age story. It is based on a true story. Which *should* logically make the dead father, the dead brother, the dead dog, etc. easier to accept because it is so authentic. The author's note says, "The girl Robinson Crusoe whose story I have attempted to re-create actually lived alone upon this island from 1835 to 1853, and is known to history as The Lost Woman of San Nicolas." I cannot imagine, can't fathom, the emotional, mental, and physical strain of such loneliness. To not only have to have the strength and courage and common sense to survive day after day and season after season and year after year, but to have to live with everything psychologically speaking.

The novel begins with the arrival of the Aleuts. Karana's tribe welcome halfheartedly these strangers onto their shores. These hunters are here to kill sea otters. They agree to pay for this privilege; however, there is some distrust. Her family, her community, are unsure about the trustworthiness of these men, these strangers. But what can they do? If they don't allow them to hunt, won't that be challenging them and provoking a war? If they do allow them to hunt, and they don't get what has been promised, that is a challenge or threat of war as well. But there is a small chance that they might actually be honorable. I don't know if there is a right or wrong way to go about it. What is, is.

As you might have guessed, these men are not honorable. And the community is practically slaughtered. By the time these strangers leave, the tribe is down to fifteen men--most of them old men or young boys. There are only a handful of men physically and mentally capable of leadership. Karana's father, the chief, is one of the men that died. She does witness it--from a distance I believe.

The people then decide, over the next few years or seasons, that the island has too many bad memories. That they should try to move to another island. One man goes off in search of a new home, and he later sends a ship back for the rest of the tribe.

The problem? Karana's brother misses the boat. He went back home to get his spear despite Karana having told him NOT to go because there wasn't enough time. She's safely on the boat, but her brother isn't. As they're leaving, she realizes that he is not there. She even, I believe, sees him on the shore. She jumps into the sea and swims home. The tragedy of it all? Within a few days--maybe even that same day--her brother is dead--mauled by a pack of wild dogs. So her brave attempt to be a good big sister is all in vain. Now she's alone, alone, alone.

Perhaps some people love the Robinson Crusoe of it all. I'm not one of them. I didn't like Robinson Crusoe in school--hated it in fact. And this doesn't really read like Swiss Family Robinson. For one thing, it's realistic. But another thing, it's the story of one person's isolation. Maybe the book doesn't focus on the alone-ness of it. But as a reader, it was something I couldn't escape. How do you keep your sanity when you are all alone for years and years?

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She is eventually rescued. But she is never reunited with her community, her tribe. What is perhaps sadder is that she could only communicate with others in signs. No one understood her language, and she couldn't understand other languages. So even supposedly-rescued, she remains isolated in a way. I can't imagine being unable to communicate fully and freely. To be alone in your own little world. There is something so troubling about this whole mess. People need to be heard, be understood. They need to connect.

I think there are many many people who love this book. I don't know that I can grasp the why of that love. But it's there just the same. I am not one of them. This book has a haunting sadness, a heartbreaking melancholy that I just DON'T want to experience again.

© Becky Laney of Becky's Book Reviews

Trouble

Schmidt, Gary D. 2008. Trouble.

Henry Smith's father told him that if you build your house far enough away from Trouble, then Trouble will never find you.

Henry is the youngest in the Smith family. His older siblings, Franklin and Louise, attend high school. Franklin is, in fact, a senior getting ready to graduate. Henry is--and always has been--following in Franklin's footsteps for better or worse. Always being compared to his older and much beloved brother. When a fellow student, a teen, a Cambodian immigrant, accidentally runs Franklin over with his car--he falls asleep behind the wheel supposedly--Henry's life changes forever.

Accident or foul play? That's what everyone (and I do mean everyone) is thinking when they hear the news. The fact that the driver in question is an immigrant makes the accident all that much more complicated. It seems this community has been waiting for the day to let out a bit of hatred towards these new folks in the community.

As Franklin's life hangs in the balance--he's lost an arm and is in a coma--the Smith family (and the whole community) begins to unravel and crumble. The Smith family is in crisis. Big-time crisis. No longer able to function, to communicate, to unite as one in this difficult time. Everyone is reacting in their own way, a way that seems strange and unnatural to the others in the family. But feels right to that person.

How Henry copes is by making a new friend, a dog named "Black Dog." He rescues this dog from the sea one day soon after the accident. This trouble-loving dog seems to be just what Henry needs, what this family needs. My favorite part of this book was any scene with Black Dog. There was an enjoyable character!

Trouble is a strange book for me. And I don't mean the book is strange in the Twilight-Zone sense. I mean I had a strange reaction to it. Perhaps you'll have a different response. Maybe. I hope. Anyway, I felt the characters were very disconnected. They had a hard time relating to one another, it's true, but I had a hard time relating to them as well--both individually and collectively. I had a hard time "knowing" or "liking" or "understanding" these characters. This could be stylistic. Meaning, Schmidt wanted the reader to feel the way Henry felt. Isolated and confused and out of sync with his family, out of sync with his world. If that is the case, then it works beautifully. It felt disjointed. I felt very removed from the characters, very removed from the plot. But as I said, this could be intentional. Or it could be just me. The reviews I've seen tend to love it. So my cool reaction could just be me.

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Essentially my 'trouble' with Trouble is that I didn't care. I didn't care that Franklin was hurt (and later died). What I saw of him, I hated. He was a jerk. He was so not worth shedding any tears over. And Henry didn't seem to "like" him much either. He had to love him because he was his brother. But I don't get the idea that Henry liked or respected him much. And Louisa certainly didn't either. The family seems well rid of him as far as I'm concerned. As far as the whole quest goes for climbing the mountain, I just DIDN'T get it at all. It just seemed stupid to me. I liked the fact that he came to a resolution, made peace, with Chay. I liked that he stood up for Chay. But the whole I-have-to-climb-this-mountain-or-else thing just didn't work for me. My feelings would have been different if they'd been less emphasis on this climbing-mountain (both physically and metaphorically.) As one of the people he encounters says your brother's death is not a good reason to want to climb a mountain.

Julie Prince's review.
Wizards Wireless' review.
Richie's review.
Sarah Miller's review.

© Becky Laney of Becky's Book Reviews

Wicked Cool Overlooked Books: Going for the Record

Swanson, Julie. 2004. GOING FOR THE RECORD. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans. ISBN 0802852734.

Leah Weiczynkowski is seventeen years old. She's a soccer player who has wonderful news for her father: she's just made the Region II Under-18 Olympic Developmental Program team with an opportunity in August of making the National team. But her father has news of his own: during the week she was away at soccer camp, he was diagnosed with terminal cancer and he only has three months to live.

Leah, of course, is in a state of shock and disbelief. She doesn't want to accept the news--and does everything she can to deny it. He doesn't look that sick. Maybe the doctors were wrong. Maybe he'll be miraculously healed. Maybe they're some kind of cure or alternative treatment that will save his life. She goes to the bookstore and finds all of these self-healing, positive-thinking books and she also goes to the nutrition store and buys all these alternative type drugs. But her father will have none of it. He is past the stage of denial....he knows that whether or not he is ready to die...or whether or not his family is ready for him to die...that he really has no choice in the matter.

Leah's father signs a living will stating that he does not want any life-saving measures to be taken. He wants to die at home away from the hospital. He is in the hospice program. They have nurses come to the house regularly to care for him. They give him pain killers to ease his pain and keep him comfortable.

Leah doesn't know how to react or how to live her life with her father dying in front of her eyes. Practicing soccer three or four hours a day...driving around with friends....shopping at the mall...etc...all seem pointlessly unsignificant in the scope of things. She doesn't want to lose a moment of time with her father. But at the same time, he's urging her not to give up her dreams to sit home and watch him die. He wants her to go to soccer camp and try to make the National team--after all, hasn't that what she's been working hard for all these years? During this time she's very angry. She's angry and acting out against her friends.

She goes to camp, but with a heavy heart, a few days into camp...she's called home. Her father's failing. He is not quite ready to die yet. But this close call forces Leah out of denial. The whole family is hoping, praying, begging that he will be able to live long enough to see the birth of his first grandchild due the first week of September. All of the family--Leah's older brother Paul, and her pregnant sister Mary--come home to say goodbye. Her uncles and aunts say their goodbyes. But eventually Leah and her mom are left at home with him watching him die.

A few weeks before his close call, the father and daughter have a chat about how he is ready to die...and how he's ready to go home and be with Jesus. And although Leah's relunctant to let him go...to give him permission to go...the more pain she sees her father in...the weaker he gets...the more disoriented and disconnected he is from reality...she begins to realize the kindest thing in the world would be to let her father go...to not pray for his recovery...but pray that God would take him...that God would spare him another day of pain.

He survives several days past the birth of his grandchild...but as soon as he hears news of its birth...he begins to let go...he disconnects himself from the world...and his family. His condition starts to deteriorate quickly. It was true that he was fighting to hold on to life for the birth...and now he has no reason to keep fighting...he can just let go.

After his death, she's very depressed--naturally--and she is hesitant to enter social life. She has no interest in ever playing soccer again. She does patch things up with her friend Clay...but mainly this is a slow healing process for her.

This is one of the hardest books I've ever read. It is a very accurate, realistic, honest look at how it feels to watch someone you love very deeply die. The book had me close to tears in several places. The feelings were just so true--so honest. My grandfather died of bladder cancer and was in hospice...and reading those chapters about his last few weeks...were just so right. The author just got everything right in those scenes. Anyway, it was a powerful well written novel.

http://www.julieaswanson.com/

© Becky Laney of Becky's Book Reviews

The Dead and the Gone

Pfeffer, Susan Beth. 2008. The dead & the gone. (June 2008)

The dead and the gone is the much-anticipated follow up novel to Life As We Knew It. Though the characters and setting are different--New York not Pennsylvania--the terror and uncertainty of future days is the same. Our narrator is Alex Morales, an older teen (perhaps 17?), whose world is about to be turned upside down. While there was set up in Life As We Knew It, the dead and the gone begins with the BIG event. Wednesday, May 18... At the moment when life as he had known it changed forever, Alex Morales was behind the counter at Joey's pizza, slicing a spinach pesto pie into eight roughly equal pieces. (1). Of course, at that moment, Alex doesn't know that. He's just your average teen. His mom was a nurse called into work that evening unexpectedly. His dad was out of the country attending the funeral of Alex's grandmother. His older brother, Carlos, is away from home and in the Marines. Thus when the calamity happens, it is on Alex and Alex alone to protect his family--his two younger sisters--and begin the fight for their ultimate survival.

In Life As We Knew It, no matter how bad it got, Miranda, the narrator, could relax a bit. Her mom was there for her and her brothers. Her mom was there to tell her what to do. There to make a plan. There to support her, comfort her, and yes, at times to annoy her. But Alex, Briana, and Julie. These three siblings have to face the unknown alone. It's not that they're completely alone, the dead and the gone introduces the element of faith and community in the midst of disaster, but without parental guidance, support, and love. Imagine being that age when the world starts to crumble. When the volcanoes and epidemics start. To know that the world will never be the same again. To know that if humanity is to survive this at all, it will be only a few, only the strongest, only the bravest. There is no safe place anymore. There is no reassurance, no promise of a better day, a brighter day. Now imagine being the caregiver of not one but two younger sisters. Sisters who'd fall apart without you. Sisters who are depending on you, trusting in you to provide for them, to protect them. Alex bears a heavy burden. Not only is he fighting for his own survival, he's fighting for the lives of his sisters.

As for his parents, his extended family, his friends and neighbors and classmates, too many are listed as "the gone" their final fates unknown in this captivating companion novel. While Life As We Knew It showed the private battle of one family for survival, the dead and the gone captures the story of a neighborhood, a community. I'm not sure whether to be surprised or not, but one thing that intrigues me is the element of faith and religion in this novel. When so many elements of society are falling apart, are crumbling, the Catholic church is strong and resourceful. They're not abandoning their flocks. They're a place where the faithful can come to rally, to rebuild their strength, regain their focus. They are actually providing for the needs of others. It's not that they're selfless. But they haven't forgotten the message of Christ either. They are living out the compassion of Christ who said...in this world you will have trouble, but I leave you my peace. That's what I see their mission as in some ways, caring for the physical and spiritual needs of the faithful. They can't stop the bad things from happening, they can't "solve" any problems. But they can be there, they can provide solace and peace for those who feel so downtrodden, so troubled.

Those who have read Life As We Knew It, will know that this is an intense novel. That it will leave you cold and hungry and a bit anxious of full moons. The dead and the gone is a companion novel to Life As We Knew It, but it stands alone. You don't need to have read Miranda's story to embrace this one. Alex's story is just as intense, just as strong, just as captivating, just as memorable. However, I would encourage everyone to go ahead and read Life As We Knew It in the months leading up to the release of the dead and the gone. There are so many memorable scenes, memorable passages that whether you read the book or listen to the audio, it is sure to haunt you.

You may read my review of Life As We Knew It here and here.
You may visit the author's blog here.
Other reviews of the novel are here, here, here, here, and here.

Remembering Raquel

Velde, Vivian Vande. 2007. Remembering Raquel.

Remembering Raquel is an interesting novel. Told from many perspectives, many narrators, it is an examination of one girl, a so-called social "nobody," an invisible, is remembered after her tragic death by her classmates.

It's amazing how much dying can do for a girl's popularity.
I mean, I'm sitting here in the funeral parlor watching Erin McCall and my other classmates standing around Raquel Falcone's dad, each one of them acting like Raquel's best friend. i don't know if Erin's just doing her usual center-of-attention thing, or if she's actually trying to make Mr. Falcone feel better. That's what you do for a dead person's family--tell them she'll be missed even if you never once had a nice word for her or about her.
I know what I'm talking about: I was there in homeroom when Mrs. Bellanca broke the news.
She told us all to sit down, and I have to believe that was at least partly so she could see where the empty desk was--I don't think she was exactly sure which one to connect Raquel's name to. Certain kids have a tendency to be invisible.
"I'm afraid I have some bad news for you," Mrs. Bellanca said.
Her plan to prepare us did the opposite. I couldn't have been the only one who suspected that another standardized test was about to be announced. Or an assembly . . . (1-2)

It's a short read. And it's a powerful one in my opinion. Different narrators, different stories, different observations about life, about living. All voices trying to make sense out of the death. Raquel was coming out from a movie, chatting with people on the sidewalk, when suddenly she was in the street right in front of a coming car. Was it accidental? Did she trip? Did she lose her balance? Was she pushed or shoved? Or did she commit suicide?

Overall, I recommend this one. I enjoyed it. It was fast. And while it wasn't "fun" necessarily--books about death and grieving are never 'fun'--I think it is important. There are many books this year that show that actions have consequences. That actions, that words--either harsh or kind--do make an impact. This is one of those kinds of books. I think the "invisible" misfits or outcasts of a class are ignored by classmates and teachers. Because they're ignored, because they're invisible. I think some must think it's okay. That their inactions aren't harmful, aren't as psychologically damaging as physical or verbal abuse. Anyway, I think this book is good in that it gives readers a chance to walk in many different shoes, to see life through many eyes.

But now, all of a sudden, it's Poor Raquel, and Sweet Raquel, and No-I-Never-Talked-to-Her-in-School-but-She-Was-My-Role-Model-and-Best-Bud Raquel.

And this gem of wisdom comes from Stacy Galbo's chapter:

You can be in (which is a select few), or you can be not in (which is the vast majority), or you can be out (but then you're not part of any crowd, because that's what "out" means). So I do my best to set a good standard to be civil to all, and to talk behind the backs of only the outest of the out. (82)

Now I feel terrible. And I wonder: What would have happened if I had gone out of my way to be nice to her? If I hadn't just refrained from bashing her, but had tried talking to her--about hair and clothes and diet and stuff? Not enough contact with her to jeopardize my own standing, which I've worked so hard to attain, but enough to help her improve herself so she wouldn't be so sad and hopeless. (84)

Blood Brothers

Harazin, S.A. 2007. Blood Brothers.

What can I say about Blood Brothers? Based on the title, it's not one I'd pick up typically. (I don't typically "do" books with blood in the title.) But as with a good majority of books I wouldn't "usually" pick up, I found myself enjoying this one a great deal. From what I can recall, Clay has just graduated from high school, and the narrative begins in the summer before his first semester of college. (Then again I could have my books mixed up, and this could be the summer before his senior year and it's his friend that is getting ready to go to college.) Clay is seventeen and working at the local hospital. He cleans and preps mostly. He does what he's told. He's responsible. He's punctual. He listens. He's closer to the model of a good teen instead of a poster boy of the bad, rebellious sort. But he's not perfect. It's not like he's never smoked or never drank. He's human after all. The book opens with him at the hospital. A girl--a teen girl--comes in in very bad shape. Her death rattles him, shakes him up and snaps him out of the funk that he's been in since he discovered his girlfriend is hitting on his best friend, Joey. Witnessing someone die can put things into perspective. So Clay on his way home from work stops by his friends house. He wants to make up with his friend. He wants to make things right between them. But he finds Joey, naked and alone, in a shed wielding a shovel and going out of his mind. After Joey starts attacking him with a shovel--and does in fact cut him with a shovel--Clay pushes Joey off of him. Joey falls and, I believe, hits his head. Clay calls 911 and soon help is on the way. But Clay's problems are just beginning.

Clay and Joey are from two different classes--socioeconomic classes. Rich kid, poor kid. Privileged and Un. Suddenly Joey's parents, Joey's friends, and to certain (yet small) degree the local cops all find Clay to be the one to blame. Their precious, darling son wouldn't ever consume alcohol let alone drugs if it hadn't been for that rotten kid, Clay. And Joey's friends, well, they're either staying quiet because they know what happened OR they're wildly speculating and spreading rumors that Clay was out to get Joey.

Clay is a likable guy. A good guy. He's a narrator that I really enjoyed. Life isn't fair, but you hope that Clay gets a good break. You want him to succeed. You want him to get what he wants. Joey, well, Joey is a guy we don't see much of in the novel. We encounter him naked in a shed, drunk and out of control. And we encounter him in a hospital bed in a coma. The only other glimpses we see are in Clay's flashbacks.

The situation is tragic. Two friends torn apart by drugs and alcohol. Full of reminders that actions--all actions--have consequences, Blood Brothers is a heartbreaking novel. It's powerful. It's compelling. It's tragic.

Saving Zoe

Noel, Alyson. 2007. Saving Zoe.

Echo is the narrator of Saving Zoe. She's gone from being the youngest to being the only child. The murder of her older sister, Zoe, has changed everything. It has not only changed the family dynamics, it's made a great impact on her emotionally and socially. She's used to the stares, used to the comments, used to the looks. She's the one. Can you believe her sister was murdered? Psychologically, the changes in Echo are HUGE. She's having to redefine who she is practically every day. For her birthday, her sister's former boyfriend gives her Zoe's diary. A diary left in his hands as a promise to return. A promise never kept. Echo reads, learns, understands, grasps. What is surprising to Echo is that the sister she thought she knew...she really didn't know. All these assumptions on her part...all those years...and there were so many things that Zoe wasn't ready, wasn't able to share with her baby sister. Echo reads about her sister's most personal, most private thoughts...and she finds herself drawn to the sister she never got a chance to know, the boyfriend she didn't have a clue about. Marc. The boyfriend. The former boyfriend. Somehow these two are drawn together in pain, in grief. Both needing closure, both needing comfort, both needing to talk, to share, to understand.

Saving Zoe is a good read. It's told through both Zoe and Echo. It's sad but not as depressing as some of the books I've been reading. But more importantly, Echo, Zoe, Marc, are characters that you can like. I'd definitely recommend this one.

They say there are five stages of grief:

1. Denial
2. Anger
3. Bargaining
4. Depression
5. Acceptance

Up until last year I didn't know there were lists like that. I had no idea people actually kept track of these things. But still, even if I had known, I never would've guessed that just a few days before my fourteenth birthday I'd be stuck in stage one. (1)

http://www.alysonnoel.com/

Walking on Glass

Fullerton, Alma. 2007. Walking on Glass.

Verse novel. A teen boy struggling emotionally with the failed suicide attempt of his mother. He found her. He got help. But the 'help' now consists of his mother being on life support. Not much of a save in his opinion. Father and son falling apart. Not turning towards the other. Each alone. Each confused.

The first poem:

Just to Let You Know

I begin this
under protest.

The further you read,
the more you invade my mind.

Take something from me
I don't want to give.

My thoughts.

You will enter a place
I don't want to be.

My conscience.

The second poem:

Journals

Writing a journal
for some shrink
won't make me
feel better.
It won't change
what happened.
It'll just make me think,
and I don't want to think.
Mom thought too much.
Look where it got her.

Obviously this is an "issue" or "problem" novel. The language is concise, spare, powerful. The narrator is unhappy--and rightfully so. Your mother being for all accounts and purposes dead and hooked up on life support, your father so far in denial that he thinks his wife will get better--that she's still "alive", and your best friend turning into a monster are all good reasons not to be yourself, to be miserable, to be angsty.

Another perspective.

Deadline

Crutcher, Chris. 2007. Deadline.

My plan was to focus my senior year on information I could use after graduation when I set out for Planet Earth from the Pluto that is Trout, Idaho, population 943. My SATs said I wasn't even close to brain-dead and I was set to be accepted at any college I chose, as long as I chose one that would accept me.

Thus begins Deadline. Our narrator is Ben Wolf. From the very beginning--page 2 to be exact--we know that Ben is dying presumably of cancer. "Doc Wagner left a phone message a few days after my routine cross-country physical . . .there was gravity in his voice, so I decided I'd better scout ahead to see if his message was PG-13 and suited for all, or R-rated and just for me. Turned out to be X." He opts out of seeking treatment and decides to live life with all the zest and zeal he can muster. He also decides NOT to tell his parents, his brother, his coaches, his friends, his teachers. He'll carry the burden of his impending departure all on his own.

One of the first things he decides is to go out in style. If he is going to die young, he might as well be brave and try out for football. He's a short guy. A small guy. But he's always envied his younger brother's skills on the football field. Now is his last chance to go for it all--both on and off the field. Football. He also has his eyes on one other thing--his dream girl, Dallas Suzuki.

School. Football. Dating. His dysfunctional family. He starts out thinking that he is going to protect his friends, his family, his loved ones by keeping this big secret. That they're too fragile to handle the truth. That it would ruin their lives to have to watch him die and know what's coming. And as a reader, you can see there are reasons why he would think that. His mother is a basket case. She has tons of issues all her own. And she's barely holding onto her sanity most of the time--not all the time though. And his father is so concerned with taking care of his wife that things do get a bit neglected at times.

If there is a theme in Deadline it would be that everything is complicated. Life is complicated. People are complicated. Relationships with friends, families, lovers, etc. are complicated. Nothing is as simple as it appears. Lies. Secrets. Regrets. Everyone has them. Everyone is carrying a burden--be it of shame, guilt, anger, or confusion. Ben isn't the only one keeping secrets. And it is through his relationships--his conversations--that he learns some of life's greatest lessons.

Two relationships stand out. One is with an older man, the town drunk. Ben gets the notion he needs to "save" this man from himself and stop him from self-destructing. The problem is that some burdens can't be eased--not in this lifetime--not without divine intervention. The other relationship is with Dallas. Dallas has a few secrets of her own--about her family, about her past--she comes clean with Ben. But Ben has trouble being honest with her. Will she--can she--forgive him for lying by omission?

I didn't love everything about this book. I'll admit to some personal biases. The conversations he has with Hey-Soos or Jesus, his 'imaginary' guide were troublesome for me. Not everyone will find the messages and 'truths' to be troublesome, however, and there are many many views of spirituality and the afterlife. Just because I didn't click with this particular aspect doesn't mean I disliked the novel. And it won't stop me from recommending it to people.

Deadline is similar to Before I Die. Both have teen narrators that are facing death. Both decide to live life to the fullest why they can. Their philosophies are different. Very, very different. But both are independent and strong-willed. Both have complicated families--dysfunctional families--they're leaving behind. Both want to find love and romance before they die. One is on the surface more honest and forthcoming and the other. I can see strengths and weaknesses in both. Before I Die made me cry at the end, I didn't have that response with Deadline. What was missing for me in both books--and this is a personal thing I would imagine--is that I had a hard time liking--really liking--the characters. I thought Crutcher's were better developed. I thought there was more depth, more development. I think Ben was a bit more self-aware and definitely less self-destructive than Tessa. I think he did better at dealing with what life had thrown him. But that's not to say that Before I Die doesn't have strengths of its own. I can see why they are both powerful depictions.

Before I Die

Downham, Jenny. 2007. Before I Die.

There are no surprises in Before I Die. What do I mean? Well, if you're expecting a happy ending with a miracle cure, you'll be disappointed. Our heroine, our narrator, is dying throughout the book, and does in fact die. Some people are drawn to these types of sad, tragic, heart-breaking dramas. Some authors are known for it, specialize in weepy women as their main audience. While Before I Die is sad, it is so much more than just another sad book. Our narrator, Tessa, is sixteen and dying. That is sad in and of itself. But Tessa's problem is that she doesn't want to die before she has a chance to live. If she's going to die, she's going to make the most of every single moment. She doesn't want to waste her time with trivialities. No school for her. No obeying her parents' rules. No obeying anybody's rules. She wants to experience it all--sex, drugs, alcohol, shoplifting, love, happiness. She wants to feel it all, live it all. She wants to pack a whole lifetime of experience into the few months she has left.

This is a drama or melodrama about life, family, friends, and love. Her relationships aren't easy. Dying isn't a piece of cake. It's hard for her to get along with her mother, her father, her brother, her best friend, her boyfriend. Life is full of ups and downs that goes for everyone--Tessa's dramas are magnified even more by the fact that her time is limited. So normal teen angst can be a bit more angsty and intense.

The writing is good. While this book may or may not be your kind of book--it might be an acquired taste to dwell on death and dying and leaving everyone you love behind--I want you to be aware of it at least. To know that there is a book out there that while emotionally manipulative--it has to be--is quite good. There was a time that I could almost weep on command at any sad story, any sad movie, any sad song. And while that still happens sometimes--I won't lie--I like to think that I've matured some. I was doing so well with this one, but even my heart wasn't made of stone at the very end.

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As a teen, my experiences with death (with losing a