– I received a free copy in exchange for an honest review. –
To be published by St. Martin’s Press on 16 Aug 2016
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As the daughter of a meth dealer, Wavy knows not to trust people, not even her own parents. Struggling to raise her little brother, eight-year-old Wavy is the only responsible “adult” around. She finds peace in the starry Midwestern night sky above the fields behind her house. One night everything changes when she witnesses one of her father’s thugs, Kellen, a tattooed ex-con with a heart of gold, wreck his motorcycle. What follows is a powerful and shocking love story between two unlikely people that asks tough questions, reminding us of all the ugly and wonderful things that life has to offer.
I chose this book because…
I’m not big on love stories, but I am big on relationships between unlikely people. I like universals and the idea that we’re all connected. I’ve always been interested in stories that humanise damaged characters and those perhaps categorised as “the wrong crowd,” including but not limited to stories to do with drugs/crime/secret lives. The ugly and wonderful things are what give life texture and I want to unearth the dust that collects in its crevices; it’s infinitely more interesting than a perfect life. Also, the book cover is really pretty; I’m a sucker for stars, and I love the delicate gold meadow.
Upon reading it…
Ooooookay so “unlikely” was an understatement. This book was giving me some serious Lolita-ish vibes. I’ve never read Lolita before, but my roommate was coincidentally reading that book while I was reading this one and she told me a lil’ about it. Looking back on my spiel on why I chose this book, I realise that I was such a naive romantic.
Wavy’s story starts from the perspective of other characters, and the way she was portrayed creeped me out a little. Then I read “Butch put his hand on Liam’s arm again and turned him toward Wavy, who stood there watching in that eerie way she had. Like the little girls from The Shining,” and even though I’ve never watched The Shining before (because I’m scared of watching horror/psychological thrillers, so instead I read them), I thought yes that’s exactly how I feel about Wavy. I was intrigued and wanted to find out the reasons for her strange behaviours, wanted to understand the misunderstood.
And to an extent, I do think I understood some aspects of her behaviour, but for me, a relationship like this is a huge no-no. How can you back a relationship in which someone thinks, “The rape made other girls nervous, but it reminded me that Kellen loved me.”
There was a weird tension early on from the first time they met–“I got to blushing with her staring, memorizing me, so I pulled on the first shirt I could lay my hand to”–and it was kind of uncomfortable, but when the tension became undeniable–it gets real sexually graphic–it got really uncomfortable. On one hand I can appreciate that their connection starts off emotional rather than physical and I could have handled a platonic love, and I even warmed up to their relationship when they were both of legal age, but history cannot be unwritten, and they had a complicated one.
The story is written beautifully for sure, maybe even too beautifully. I’m just worried that some readers may romanticise this situation and/or relationship, and perhaps even have the same mindset as Renee during her first year of college and want to have a story of their own about being in a relationship like this. Not ideal. Because of the weight of this topic, I would only recommend this book to a mature audience, whatever that means to you. A narrative like this definitely makes you pause and reconsider. For that, I think the book has done its job. It really is the ugly and wonderful, though perhaps I’d rather call it the wonderful and ugly.
★★★★☆
**quotes have not been checked against a finished copy of the book**
As the weather got colder, I wanted to stay at home in bed, but when Wavy got up and dressed, I did too. If I didn’t go, she would go alone. Half of my fear was that something would happen to her. The other half was a fear that she would have adventures without me.
I thought about how he left spaces for me when he talked. If I saw him again, I decided I might put words in those spaces.
I laid the potatoes out on the table and petted them like little animals. They were dirty, but good potatoes.
It soothed me and I didn’t want to be soothed.
Summer had so many tricks. The nights lasted longer than the days, even though the angle of the Earth’s axis meant that was impossible. The night couldn’t be longer, but summer made it seem that way. Summer sneaked time for me, taking a minute from February, three minutes from English class in March, ten whole minutes from a boring Thursday in April. Summer stole time to give me another hour under the stars with Kellen.
I felt dead. I woke up in the mornings surprised my heart was still beating.
I mostly liked high school. I liked learning things. How numbers worked together to explain the stars. How molecules made the world. All the ugly and wonderful things people had done in the last two thousand years.
There was no sense in rushing toward being dead. It would find you soon enough, and before it did there were pleasures to make your heart hurt less.
Renee liked to take quizzes out of women’s magazines. They were silly, but good for the same thing knitting was good for. The quizzes helped Renee empty her heart, and she filled it so quickly with the wrong things, it was no wonder she needed to empty it.
That probably wasn’t what Renee meant when she said I had to try. That was me being impossible. Aunt Brenda said that about me. You’re impossible! Most days I was impossible. Like a unicorn.
I was lying on the tracks under a train I was in love with.
When I reached her, she was a star, pulling me into her orbit.