Spotlight on Trilogy, Continued - Berta's Bounceback by Nadine C. Keels - from the Malt Shop Milestones series

 It was Saturday afternoon in the community of West Hill, nicknamed "Black Diamond District," and teens were flooding to Bro Brown's Malt Shop to push coins, first into the Jukebox, and then head over to order their favorite drink, to get started... My choice? Orange Cream, but I doubt it was available in the 40s...LOL But no matter what era, I was there to enjoy the music and check out another kind of whodunit...

Hear that, the flavor of Autumn Leaves, which is one of my favorite Nat King Cole vocals, is right in there at the beginning... Now at my time, the word was groovy...in the 40s, I don't know what they called smooth jazz... but it's what most was happening at Bro's place... a central location of these books--where friends could gather and talk, hear the latest news, or meet up with others from school for a little out-of-school JOY...

In fact, the trilogy surrounds the lives of a threesome of teen girls at all times--with one change when a family had to move to another part of the country. And Ari came in to find herself in a safe place finally... More on that later... Vicky was in book one; however, you should also know that the lives of all three girls are continuously within the pages of the trilogy. Here, you'll find just a few main facts that I found of personal interest and wanted to share with all of you!

Berta considers herself just an average student, in most ways. In fact, she only began to find herself recognizing her value, when a certain young boy came stumbling into her life... You see, Howard sat in front of Berta in one of their classes... While Berta was dreaming of ever having a date with the most popular boy in school and deciding that wasn't going to happen. My thought immediately was that Howard was secretly interested in Berta... And shy around her...

So much so that when he was coming to class, one time he stumbled right before he got to his own chair and fell onto Berta's desk... How humiliating! All the class was laughing; but, it was only later that Berta, remembered, that, when Howard's head popped up and he leaned on her desk, he had asked if she was ok! You know, that's when my mystery solving mind decided, Yep, he's whodunit! He's the guy for Berta!

And I was right...

So, one day, Berta was meeting Vicky... And, there she sat wearing Willie's sports jacket! How Cool! Berta had her own secret to share; but, being Berta, she allowed her friend to share her joy of wearing Willie's jacket first... And, only then, did she reveal that her family had a new addition! No, you're wrong if you immediately thought what most people would think, LOL... Her father had bought a Television!!!!

Ahhh, that did bring back memories for me... We were too poor to have a television for many years after they came out... But a neighbor of ours had purchased one--he worked for the railroad where a train traveled right in front of our house and I guess he made lots more money than my widowed Mom... Anyway, my sister was a good friend of his daughter, plus we all went to the same church... Soooo, we got to go to their house to watch TV, just like you'll read about, when Berta invites her friends! Cool, right?! And by that time, Howard was definitely invited, especially when Berta found out he had been their paperboy and had routinely interacted with her Dad! But she had never known him then... True... 

But I have to tell you about their first date! Howard fumbled around and finally got it out that his sister was getting married and, like, would Berta be his date at the wedding? She almost swooned... Her first grownup event--what would she wear?! Thoughts flooded into her mind, until she finally remembered she had to say "yes" to Howard!

And the very first thing she noticed at the wedding? Howard  was not awkward or stumbling around... She realized that he was in a safe space, where everybody loved him and came to hug and talk to him... I believe it was then that Berta began to see Howard for who he really was... And that, somebody, was somebody she really began to like--a lot!

Until Berta began to have trouble understanding the material of a couple of her classes. She found she had to spend more time studying and less time with her friends and the malt shop... But what are friends for? Vicky one day just came out and asked her friend what was wrong. And Berta confessed she needed to study more but some of it she just couldn't understand... It was algebra for me... I had to take a class to be able to take a few management courses on campus when I started working right after I graduated... All I can remember now, and immediately after I passed the course, was that there was an 8 on its side and it meant infinity... LOL Anyway, Vicky forced her to make time to meet with her to study together... until she moved on to the other major concern that had developed...

Vicky had career goals even early in her teens... It wasn't until Berta began to have trouble with some of her classwork that, perhaps for the first time, she realized that she'd never thought about plans for the future--that she didn't even think about it enough to wonder if she wanted to work, what would she do? Her self-doubt became so great that she was no longer able to deal with the reality of her day-to-day life activities... She even began to worry about Howard when he said that a new girl was pretty...

Until she opened up, at Howard's insistence, to him...

This, then, is one of the reasons, I wanted to spotlight this trilogy. Keels has a personal connection to all that has happened within the Black Culture. Her books reveal that connection and her desire to create the books that she could never find when she was growing up and going through her teen years... She wanted to share those books and I believe she has done a fantastic job... Sure, these books all have Black characters... But, I have to say, I've never found anything that makes me think that color of the skin makes our teen years, or, in fact, any part of our lives, different because one is black and one is white. It's NOT true... Circumstances may be a problem, but never the people unless... well, you all know what I mean...

One of the first books I read by a Black woman, had a cover with a white woman. I asked her why. She told me there were no covers readily available with Black people! And that's been within the last twenty years! I am a fan of book covers. It's the first thing I do when I get a new book... Kudos to Keels for making sure this historical trilogy reflected exactly what she wanted to have found when she was a teen! And for again, providing a final narrative on, this time, the Black culture and capitalization/writing concerns... is covered...

I especially enjoyed the three characters that Nadine created... Each one entirely different in so many ways; yet, they had become friends... Reminded me of the trio I was part of in junior high and on through graduation. One Black girl, One Catholic girl, and one white girl, who thankfully believed that God had created all people! And, isn't that the way it's supposed to be?! But, just as we are experiencing once again, our Black neighbors being persecuted. We need to question, don't we?! We are all God's children, every one of us. And, surely, if in the 1940s, the Black songs were not even allowed to be played by many radio stations, then surely we should have progressed by 2026! And we have to some extent... but not under the president that I don't recognize...as...mine...

GABixlerReviews

The Hayloft: A 1950s Mystery (and Music!) by Alan Cook - Young Adult On... Another Personal Favorite!

I have great faith in the people of the United States

to do the right thing in the long run.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“It’s what keeps me going.”

Apparently Ralph stayed behind and was there all alone.” None of this made any sense. “Does Dad know?” I asked. “I just called him,” Mother said. “He’s on his way home.” My father was the brother of Aunt Dorothy and the uncle of Ralph. I asked more questions, but my mother had given me all the information she had. If it were anybody else, I might have almost believed it—but Ralph. Ralph was indestructible. He climbed the highest trees, dove off the biggest rocks. We were the same age, but he did everything a little bit better than I did—and a lot more flamboyantly.

I heard our car pull into the driveway and turned off the radio. I was tired of hearing about communist-hunting by the House Un-American Activities Committee, anyway. And tired of listening to pop songs that had lost their music and meaning since Ralph died.

(My song selection based upon words; all others in book)

I admit, when I saw the 1950s mystery designation, I immediately bought it--for less than a dollar I surely got my money's worth...and more! By now you all know that I love books with music as part of the background story...So prepare to spend time with me as you read this review...

The book opens as Gary is isolated with measles and his family are coming back from the funeral for his first cousin, Ralph. Gary is confronted with his not being able to be there, but also with the confusion as to how he could possibly have died the way that he did. He fell off a balcony at his school... Gary didn't believe it and so, this quickly turned into somewhat of a cozy mystery as Gary was determined to find out exactly what happened--he wondered who else had been with Ralph that night and whether he was pushed!

A jukebox in the corner blasted out the Bill Haley and the Comets version of “Rock Around the Clock.” Rock and roll was still new, and some adults saw it as the latest form of teenage depravity. There had been a jukebox in the Atherton cafeteria that took nickels. Sylvia told me this one was free. Ralph had listened to this jukebox...

Gary's home room was in the cafeteria so music was playing quite often and some of the girls even did the Charleston. He laughed wondering how they'd learned those steps!

Gary met Sylvia on his first day at Carter. She was the class president and assigned to show him around the school. But before she came, Gary had been greeted by his new principal, Dr. Graves...

But Dr. Graves, first, spent time talking about Gary's being transferred to Carter, noting that it was at his discretion that he be accepted... And, he then mentioned that Sylvia would be coming in soon and that he needed Gary to work with him secretly. He noted that Sylvia's father had undergone a congressional investigation related to whether he was a communist... Dr. Graves wanted him to watch Sylvia and report back on anything that seemed suspicious...

Now that Ralph was gone, there was only one reason Gary was happy to be at Carter... He had fallen "in love" with the head cheerleader when they played at his old school... Even though she was, of course, dating the football hero here, he couldn't forget about her great beauty... But he got to know her through Sylvia while keeping one of those secrets... In the meantime, Gary began asking questions, and even risked going to a dance, alone, hoping to learn more...

I didn’t think anybody would hear me if I rang the doorbell, and the door was unlocked, so I walked in. The music instantly became much louder. I followed the sound to the living room where cigarette smoke curled lazily toward the ceiling. A fire in an old brick fireplace produced more smoke, most of which went up the chimney. Several couples were dancing on a hardwood floor, darkened with age, doing some version of the swing or dirty bop. The music was coming from a phonograph playing 45 RPM records. The girls who were dancing wore skirts with several crinolines underneath, which flashed when they spun. I saw a couple of poodle skirts. 

The boys, who outnumbered the girls, were dressed as their version of juvenile delinquents: blue jeans, T-shirts with rolled-up sleeves and a cigarette pack on one shoulder. A couple of them wore black leather jackets. Most wore their hair long. 

I immediately felt out of place with my short hair and neat clothes,especially because I didn’t recognize anybody. Then Willie materialized from someplace near the table that had been set up as a bar and grabbed me by the arm. He had a cigarette hanging out of the corner of his mouth and had obviously been drinking. He pulled me over to the table where I recognized his brother, Dennis, larger and stockier than Willie, but with the same hair. When Dennis spotted me in tow of his brother, I stuck out my hand and said, “Gary Blanchard.” He shook my hand and said, “You’re the new kid. Have a beer.” He pulled a bottle out of a tub filled with ice, opened it deftly, and handed it to me. I took a sip. It was cold and slid down easily. One beer wouldn’t impair my driving ability. Although there were a few older boys and girls there, including Dennis, who had probably flunked a grade or two, I was willing to bet that most of the partygoers were under eighteen. And that included me. There wasn’t a parent in sight. No adults—just booze and broads. It reminded me of a definition I had heard of the difference between a good girl and a nice girl. A good girl goes on a date, goes home, goes to bed. A nice girl goes on a date, goes to bed, goes home. Although the saying was mostly wishful thinking, as was most sex talk at the high school level, it was tempting, if perhaps unfair, to imagine which kind these girls were. 

I had briefly thought about asking Sylvia if she would like to come, thinking that she needed to get out, just as I did. Now I was glad I hadn’t. And what was I doing here? I obviously didn’t fit in. I wouldn’t stay long. Willie was probably the youngest one at the party, and he was sitting by himself. I went over and sat down beside him on a folding chair. “Nice party,” I said. He smiled at me, a little bleary-eyed. “I have a question for you,” I said. Might as well take the opportunity to try and get some information. I continued, speaking loud enough to be heard over the pounding beat of the music, “I…I’m interested in Ralph Harrison. You said there was something funny about the way he died.” Willie took a drag on his cigarette and said, “Did I say that?” Of course, he had been in a drunken stupor at the time, just as he was now. I tried a different tack. “You said he taught you to walk on your hands.” Willie’s face brightened. “Ya wanna see me walk on my hands?” “No thanks.” Even if he succeeded, I was afraid he’d leave a trail of destruction in his path. “You must have known Ralph very well. How did you meet him?” Since they were two years apart in school. “He was on the varsity baseball team when I went out for JV. We both played catcher.” “Who’s the coach?” “Mr. Jarvis.” One of the gym teachers. 

“Dr. Graves sometimes comes to our practices.” “Oh.” I recalled Dr. Graves had said he watched swimming classes too. “Yeah, he knows a lot about baseball. He used to play semi-pro. He would give us tips.” “It sounds like Dr. Graves takes an interest in sports.” “That and he has favorites among the guys. Ralph was one of them. I’m another.” “What, do you brown-nose him?” “Naw, don’t have to.” “So what does he do?” Willie stubbed out his cigarette in an ashtray sitting on an end table. He picked up a pack of Camels from the table, offered me one, which I refused, then took one for himself. He lit it with a lighter, also from the table. He inhaled deeply and blew smoke out through his nostrils. He looked at me and said, “Promise you won’t tell anyone?”

~~~ 

And then the unthinkable happened. Sylvia's father was fired from his job. He had admitted that he had once joined the Communist party, but once he realized what it was all about, he left. That didn't matter to anybody in the surrounding area of Carter. Both the father...and Sylvia...were ostracized!

Gary and Sylvia had become closer, as friends, and moving toward more... But all of a sudden both Dr. Graves, Gary's father...and the Communist Craze was coming between them. At first he would sit with her at lunch and had been driving her to school... Then that was forbidden...

And somewhere along the way, a family heirloom, a necklace, was discussed, which immediately led to the young teens of the family on treasure hunts... And they began in The Hayloft!

And then as school was nearing the last day, a special program was held on the estate of one of the students. Gary was putting his clues together, but was it too late for him to find the murder of his cousin because, suddenly, he was caught in a trap from which he may never be able to escape!

The climatic ending is exciting, nail-biting, and certainly unexpected! As Gary turns into a school hero as the final dance occurs... And, in appreciation of this writer's fantastic storytelling, I want to close with a scene I had highlighted early in the book...the writing drew me in for a short escape before tragedy started... song by one of the most famous singers of the time ... Nat King Cole...

On Saturday afternoon, Carter played Atherton in football. At Carter. I knew I should be rooting for Carter, but my heart was still with Atherton. However, I decided that I had better sit on the Carter side of the field, since I attended Carter High now. Besides, the visitors’ bleachers faced west, and the spectators had the afternoon sun in their eyes. I was sure the field had been designed that away on purpose.

It was unseasonably warm—shirtsleeve weather. Perhaps too early to be called Indian summer, since it was officially just barely autumn, but the leaves were starting to turn to their autumn colors. The reds and golds made it the most beautiful season of the year—except for winter when a blanket of white covered the ground. And spring, when new green life appeared. And summer, when yellow grain filled the fields scraped flat by an ancient glacier. It was the kind of day that made me almost forget about my problems and just be happy I was alive.

Until I saw some Atherton people I knew across the gridiron. That brought a pang in my heart that I had been trying to quell. I arrived just before the game started, by design. The Carter stands were pretty much filled. The Carter band played the school fight song in the middle of the field with more enthusiasm than skill. The band members stood in the shape of a large C. I walked along in front of the bleachers, looking for a friendly face. The first one I saw was Sylvia’s. I turned away, feeling like a traitor. The band stopped playing, and I heard my name called. It was Sylvia...

And it was with Sylvia that he now had his last school dance... 

I was glad when the dance was over, but for different reasons. I finally got to dance with Sylvia again, to the band’s version of “Autumn Leaves.” Appropriate.

GABixlerReviews

Young Adult Female Hero Stars in The Crossroad Guardian by Allice Rippley!

Living in a city half populated by gang bangers and criminals isn’t easy. Most young girls my age use the buddy system and are in their homes before dark. Some carry pepper spray or a taser in their purses. I guess each person has their own way of ensuring their safety. In Crossroads, Virginia, one of the most infamous gangs in the United States was created. The Crimson Shadow Gang is known for its brutality and lack of mercy. 

I’m known for the same thing.

~~~

I slide my purple hoody over my shoulders and place a half mask over my eyes. I pull my striped, cream colored scarf over my mouth and place my long bow across my body, the string secured between my breasts and handle between my shoulder blades. My backpack is placed over my bow, containing chalk, rope, and sharpened arrows. Finally, I put on my leather combat boots over my black leggings and place four sleek black throwing knives around the boots, two hidden on the inside, two latched on the outside.
I exit my house and skulk up and down the abandoned downtown streets. Nobody in this town is arrogant enough to roam the streets past dark, unless of course they are the predators. I listen down each alleyway for voices and finally come upon one full of them. I silently pull two knives from my boots and eavesdrop on the conversation. 
“You know the price,” one voice says angrily 
“Man, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” another voice says exasperatedly. 
“Then you’re obviously useless.” I hear a click and immediately pounce into the alleyway, side arming the knife in my left hand in the direction of the gun. It hits the barrel and the man drops it, looking in my direction. I wave with the knife in my right hand. The man who dropped the gun grins at me and I grimace at his rotting teeth. “Do you own a toothbrush?” I ask disgusted.
The man’s grin tightens into a scowl. “Actually, I might have one in here,” I pull my backpack from my back and set it in front of me. I make obvious eye contact with the victim and nod my head in the direction of the alleyway entrance. He nods in understanding, I pull the quiver from my bag and place it over my shoulders. I kick the bag toward the brick wall. 
“I ought to teach you some respect, girl,” the man grinds out.
I walk to him and stop two feet away. “Do you know who I am?” I ask. 
“Yeah. That’s why I brought them,” he says, pointing behind him. I look in the direction his thumb is pointing and see three figures heading in our direction from the end of the alleyway. 
“Go,” I say to the boy. He turns and runs from the fight. I smile and look the man dead in the eye. “More fun for me,” I say and throw a quick roundhouse kick to his chest. He falls backwards and collides with the brick wall. I pick up my knife and throw the gun in my belt. Let the real fun begin. Within ten minutes, I had each man on the ground and no bruises to show for it. Four grown men against one 5’2 teenage girl should have been a difficult fight, but in reality, it was a one sided battle. I tie each man's hands together individually, then knot each set of hands together. I pull the chalk from my bag and hold the glow in the dark blue in my left hand. Yes, I’m left handed. On the brick wall I write the letter “J” in chalk and call a tip into the cops. I check behind each mans ear and see the symbol behind each one; the gang symbol. A small line is tattooed behind each right ear.

~~~

The Crossroads Guardian

By Allice Rippley

When a gang takes over a community, everybody becomes frightened, staying inside...sometimes, even wishing for a hero... But that was not the reason that Dana had single-handedly started going against gang members... It was to avenge her brother...

At school, she always wore her hoodie and loose clothes, trying to never attract anybody's attention. So far, covering her face had kept her avenger activities a secret... That was until she had come across a teenage boy who had been bothered by a gang member and when she'd heard a click, she moved in, gained control and signaled for the boy to leave...

Until, later, when she was heading home, someone came up behind her, stating that he knew she was the one who had saved him... Dana was dazed, he was only "the most sought after bad-boy at East Crossroads High." Still, she thought he was safe until as she went on toward her house, saying, "Thank you Dana..."

I am indeed confident, 

though nobody at this school helps my 

confidence. People often call me ugly

 and worthless, but I know that I’m not ugly.

I know I am far from worthless. 

I just feel more comfortable smarting

 off to criminals rather than smarting off

 to teenagers with no apparent reason

 for being rude

~~~.

She immediately stopped, went back to where he stood and threatened him...

Dana puts on a major front--and deserves to with the types of skills she has achieves, as taught by her brother. But no matter, what, she is totally alone, on her own, and not only handling her own needs, but has been working for two months to move against gang members in the act of some type of violence.

Interestingly, she performs no violence, merely gaining control via her speed, skill, and then expert rope tying... She leaves the men tied up and calls the police with the address where they can be found.

Now, however, things have changed. When a bully girl recently tried to get her to do her homework, Dana had it handled, but before it was over Eli had pulled the girl away, and pushed her away from Dana...It was kinda funny really...

“Oh, hi Eli,” she says to her assailant, twirling a strand of bleach blonde hair around her finger. I look up to Eli and scowl. I just had to save the bad-boy. 

“Sue, leave her alone,” he says seductively. I groan and turn away. Before I am able to get out of reach, Eli’s hand grasps my arm and holds me in place. With one quick maneuver I could break his arm, but I decide to wait instead.

 “Awe, but Eli. You know she’s nobody. It doesn’t matter.” Her harsh words cause me to physically wince. I’m the same nobody that saved her from losing everything to a creep...

Eli leans into her until he is directly in her face. “She matters more than you,” he whispers. He pulls my arm and leads me toward the schools front door, leaving Sue gawking and being primped by her friend. His thoughtful words echo in my mind, but I force a passive look on my face.

~~~

It must have been especially hard for Dana to accept the bullying at school, from, especially, those who she have saved during her skulking in dark places, to save those need her help from the gang...She did get a little snarky but, you know, when you're a community hero, those of us...readers...enjoy her defending herself and refused to give in to bullies, even though she looked like the perfect one in school to be picked on!

Eli, however, was not going to leave her side and slowly each of their feelings grew and Dana even agree to help train him--he had almost demanded that he go out with her to protect her, especially when he learned that her parents had been killed... Guys are funny, like that, don't you think, especially since Dana could easily put him down and tie him up like a calf...LOL

I enjoyed this quick read. The story was perfect for young girls who are looking to stand up on their own. It might not be as a vengeful hero, but, since I know how my niece did so well in martial arts, I am a supporter of teens getting into something like this to be able to physically handle potentially dangerous situations... 

And it's always nice to find a young man who respects your goals and ambitions as Eli did. Please check this out for your young adult readers. It is one that I am happy to recommend...

GABixlerReviews

Before I can comprehend what’s happening,

 my back is pressed into the front door and his breath is dancing on my lips.

 “Have you ever just known when someone was made for you?” he asks huskily. 

I lean into the door for support and meet his perfect green orbs

 with my desperate brown ones. “I think so,” I whisper. 

His lips gently brush mine, leaving me craving so much more.

~~~

Steven Manchester's Latest, and My Favorite of His Books, Brings Memories of Lassie...and His Owner...Meeting Life 12 Years Later!

Take one small boy and his dog, add 12 years into the future of their lives, and you can begin to understand the latest book--I think my favorite--from Steven Manchester! We have a different dog and a different boy, but the love and loyalty that many of us experienced with Lassie and Timmy--the one I most remember--is the  same. Reading the book is almost like a sequel, except in today's quite different world!


The Changing Season

By Steven Manchester

The traditional "Coming of Age" genre never quite meant as much to me before this book. In fact, I was interested enough to do a little research and found the word Bildungsroman! This seemed to fit wonderfully to place The Changing Season, especially regarding "the psychological and moral growth" of the young boy... 

In literary criticism, a Bildungsroman: "novel of formation, education, culture,"  a coming-of-age story (though it may also be known as a subset of the coming-of-age story) is a literary genre that focuses on the psychological and moral growth of the protagonist from youth to adulthood (coming of age)  in which character change is extremely important.

With that, I am quite able to commend this book as exceptional in responding to both the normal coverage of this genre, but more importantly on the additional psychological and moral issues that greatly strengthens the story line. For me, it is the best I've read in coming-of-age novels.

Why was this important to me? Because I had already fallen in love with Billy and Jimmy as the boy and dog main characters. But then I began to notice that Billy spent a lot of time playing computer games...and lived in a pig sty room. Ok, to me, these are signs of immaturity, at best. He also drank excessively and was not strong enough on his own to make, for instance, a decision to pull over and wait during a heavy rainstorm, while his two friends were with him... I was not really sure about Billy at all. In fact my opinion of him went downhill, as they say...

Until that summer...

Billy was in his final year of school and, unfortunately, seemed like many of the boys of today. He spent most of his time outside of school playing computer games, along with his other two friends. They, however, had a plan for their future, while Billy had no idea what he might do. He was enrolled to enter college but had not picked a particular subject in which to major. Nor was he prepared to deal with the expense of that endeavor, since his parents could not support him. 

The thing that draws you to him is his love and interaction with Jimmy, his best friend. This is especially poignant since Jimmy is old in dog years and had greatly slowed down and is dealing with age-related issues such as arthritis. Still, Billy was able to accommodate to his age and had even begun to worry about losing him, wondering why dogs didn't live as long as humans...

Jimmy was so excited to see Billy that— as if his canine frame were made of rubber bones— his body bent in half from his tail wagging so hard. The dog barked and spun in circles a few times, unafraid to hang his heart out on his furry sleeve and show his love for Billy. 
Billy quickly went to his knees. “Shhhh. We don’t want to wake up Mom and Dad,” he whispered to the dog, raking his fingers through Jimmy’s heavy coat. “I’m okay, buddy,” Billy added. “You missed me, didn’t you?” 
Jimmy barked again, answering the question. He smelled musty, like he’d just come in from the rain himself. 
“Shhhh,” Billy repeated and laughed. Like most Americans, Jimmy— named after Billy’s late uncle— was a mixed breed, a mutt— Labrador retriever blended with one or two unknown breeds. His shiny, raven-black coat was broken up by two white socks on his front legs and paws— and a discolored patch of fur on his hind quarter; it was an old battle scar, proof of his love and devotion to his family. A perfect white stripe ran down the length of his snout, and there was lots of snow on his muzzle and around his eyes, thick swaths of silvery fur that betrayed his advanced years and experience. His milk-chocolate eyes were soft and kind and his left ear stood up straight while the right one normally flopped onto his forehead. He had a thick barrel chest which didn’t lose any girth all the way to his back hips. And his black bushy tail, dipped in white, was always on the move— as if controlled by some over-caffeinated puppeteer. As Jimmy convulsed for attention, Billy rubbed his chest up and down— fast and hard— exactly the way the dog liked it. “Let’s get a drink before we turn in,” Billy told him and started for the kitchen, with Jimmy hobbling closely behind. 
The two of them stepped into the dark kitchen. In the refrigerator’s soft light, Billy placed the gallon of milk to his lips, tilted it toward the ceiling and took a few long gulps. In the shadows on the floor, Jimmy lapped at his water bowl, spraying back wash all over the worn linoleum. After placing the milk back into the fridge, Billy wiped his sleeve across his mouth and looked down at the sitting dog. “Do you have to go out, boy?” he asked, while the refrigerator door slowly closed and the kitchen went dark again. As he limped past Billy, Jimmy’s nails scratched across 
the floor. “Jimmy, your toenails need to be cut,” Billy told the dog. “You sound like a ferret on tile.” Billy took a few steps toward the back door and laughed, realizing his own nails needed to be trimmed. Jimmy waited at the back door to be let out. Years ago, the mutt had been trained to go out to the wood line to do his business. There was no need for an electric fence, just a little discipline and a whole lot of love. Jimmy always went out alone, did his thing and came back in without having to be yelled at or even summoned. Billy opened the door. “Make it quick,” he said. “It’s bad out there.”
 The rain was still coming down hard. Two minutes later, the mildewed-smelling dog hurried back in, shaking the rain from his coat and tracking mud through the kitchen like a small monster truck. 
“Oh Jimmy…” Billy complained, grabbing the paper towels and haphazardly wiping up the linoleum behind them. After Billy relieved himself— and Jimmy waited by the bathroom door, being just as patient— the two of them stepped into Billy’s bedroom. The room smelled like a mix of high school locker room and the moment a forgotten lunch box— that’s been sitting in the sun for a full August afternoon— is opened. Billy huffed at the stench and looked down at Jimmy. Like a canary heading into a coal mine, the mutt didn’t seem to notice; with his head down, he marched straight in. A half dozen hip-hop posters covered the cracks in the plaster walls. The only window in the room was covered by an old throw blanket, which was intended to block out every ray of the sun, whether it was morning or noon. It was a tight space containing a single bed, a small desk supporting a television and video game console, a bureau and a closet that might have comfortably stored two-dozen outfits. Instead, it was used for storage. The spring-loaded door was rarely opened, though, as everything would have spilled out. It was also the door that Billy feared throughout his childhood: the monster’s front door.
A bag of cheese puffs had spilled out from the bureau onto the floor and a box of pizza crusts sat on the desk chair. “Home, sweet home,” Billy told Jimmy and snickered. With all that covered it, Billy couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen his bedroom carpet. A year before, his mother had abandoned any hope for the room and refused to enter it again. “You want to live like a pig, then go ahead,” she’d told him. “Whatever’s not in the laundry room doesn’t get washed.”
Besides Charlie and Mark, Jimmy was the only soul brave enough to enter the landfill...

~~~

One of Manchester's strengths is as a storyteller. He develops the plot but fills it in with detail to give readers an opportunity to walk into his stories. His stories are character-driven and allows us to look into the lives of people--people like each of us--with whom we form a brief relationship, with the prevalent question, have we enjoyed meeting them. As I mentioned above, I wasn't too sure about Billy. On the other hand, we see his thoughts as he realizes that he is not even comparable with his two friends who already know what they plan to major in. He is ashamed, wondering if he's so out of it that he in unable to know himself well enough to consider what lies ahead in the future.

Peer pressure and first love play an extremely important part in the book. Billy is caught between loyalty to his male friends, while immediately recognizing he could lose the girl of his dreams. He procrastinates, he tries to act by challenging his male friend, but in the end, he, alone, faces the results of his actions...

During the summer after graduation, his father finds a potential job for him and  Billy starts working at an animal shelter. For those who love animals, (and for animals who love reading, LOL), this heightens the fun part of the story, while allowing Billy to learn from his boss and mentor. That relationship, actually, became the most important one in the book, especially when, in today's world, the parents are not who teenagers listen to in forming and making decisions. Too bad we can't duplicate Arlene Uslander*--we need her "skills" in helping young adults find their way in the difficult days as "teenagers."

I worry about our teenagers...those who are close to me and those who are caught in the web of deceit that comes unexpectedly through human trafficking and other criminal activities. I believe this book could very well be a must-read for many of today's teenagers. Parents...highly recommended for gifting to your children...

From Manchester's FB Photos

When I saw that Ed Asner (actor, Mary Tyler Moore, et. al.) and who I once met as a favorite star, had recommended the book, I was sold... But then I started seeing quite a number of other well-known authors who had provided early thoughts. So I should probably add that this is not only my favorite, but I believe the best written and most inspirational and memorable of his books...in supporting the needs of today's readers.

I don't normally add a personal note about the author, but I've been amazed at this writer's steady rise in quality of writing, plot, and importance of his books to readers and especially families across the world. If you haven't read Manchester yet and are looking for a great contemporary family-oriented book, this is the perfect novel to read and see what you're missing!

GABixlerReviews

Steven Manchester is the author of four #1 bestsellers: Twelve Months, The Rockin' Chair, Pressed Pennies and Gooseberry Island. His long-anticipated, critically-acclaimed novel, The Changing Season, has just been released. Steve is also the author of the award-winning novel, Goodnight, Brian. He has written A Christmas Wish (Kindle exclusive), Wilbur Avenue (novelette), Just in Time (novelette) and The Thursday Night Club (novella), while his work has appeared on NBC's Today Show, CBS's The Early Show, CNN's American Morning and BET's Nightly News. Three of Steven's short stories were selected "101 Best" for Chicken Soup for the Soul series and he is the produced playwright of Three Shoeboxes. When not spending time with his beautiful wife, Paula, or their four children, this Massachusetts author is promoting his works or writing. Visit: www.StevenManchester.com.

*Arlene was a dear friend (through our writing). She passed away two years ago and I wanted to honor her by putting her name in a book. 

I recognized Arlene's name as soon as I found it and many may also recognize Arlene's name as editor and author--she wrote on Fate and I reviewed her book many years ago...Kudos to Steven for his decision to honor her in this lovely way...

See also... My Reviews for Many of Manchester's books...

http://gabixlerreviews-bookreadersheaven.blogspot.com/2010/05/have-we-traded-american-family-for.html
http://gabixlerreviews-bookreadersheaven.blogspot.com/2010/06/review-pressed-pennies-inspiration.html
http://gabixlerreviews-bookreadersheaven.blogspot.com/2012/08/steven-manchester-takes-us-where-all.html
http://gabixlerreviews-bookreadersheaven.blogspot.com/2013/03/steven-manchesters-goodnight-brian-is.html
http://gabixlerreviews-bookreadersheaven.blogspot.com/2015/01/guest-author-steven-manchester-sharing.html

Giorgina Liguori Pens First Y.A. Novel, E. V. & Rome

(Kathryn Prescott)

E. V. Blog

1. My name is E. V. Well, obviously, that's not a name. I've reinvented myself. I did that when we moved to Florida. Hated my name. Named for a great-aunt I've never met. She'd been dead a while when I was born. Just shows you the family's prioriy: honor the dead. Screw the kid.

I've wanted to do a blog for a long time. I think I want to be a writer. I love putting words on paper. The only thing wrong with being a writer is that so many never make it and I like a full fridge and nice clothes. So I'm not sure.

Anyway, since I know no one down here, I guess this is the time to begin.

~~~

September 2

Mr. "L" says part of my IEP (buzz word of the decade, if it's a word) is to keep a journal. That he believes might let me get rid of some of my anger. Yeah, so you know what? If I wasn't pissed off all the time I'd be crazy. Want to get your jollies Mr. L. well here goes.

My mother is a screwed up psycho. My dad never married her. He married someone else and they had two kids. Her name is Marion.

(Alex Pettyfer)

Dad is OK. I mean he calls, gives me some money sometimes. But you know what I think about a lot? I always wonder about?

Would Mom be the freakin nut job she is if he'd married her? Please notice Mr. L. that I am trying not to use "profanity" - I hope you appreciate it, as I love to use p-rofanity especially like here where it would be so totally right.

My name makes me sad. Rome. I asked my mom where she'd gotten that weird name and she said she named me that because she'd never gotten there and always wanted to. She said the name was about maybe I'd get there, but I could see in her eyes that she didn't think that would ever happen - I'd end up a total loser like her.

~~~

E. V. and Rome

By Giorgiana Liguori

This is a debut young adult novel for Lignori, although she has two other books available--Samsara and Creating the Creative Child. She has 18 years of experience as a teacher and counselor with teenagers and this book is actually true situations that really happened, although the characters who are fictional have been endowed with all those situations.

It took me a few minutes to get used to the book's format--two teenagers are responding to a school assignment to keep a journal--a blog for the year, at which time it will be turned in. Readers do not know what the plan is for the IEP for either, but we quickly begin to understand each teen's issues. Somehow it felt more like we are reading their diaries--something that should not be read unless it was permitted... Nevertheless, I read on...

Ms. M gave me a nickname. Cobain. She thinks
I look like him. I'm flattered, I guess. But I
don't really look like him...Rich before he blew
his head off, he on on this show Unplugged. I
watched it on the Internet and he was so good.
Just him and his guitar. Acoustic. Playing
Apologize. It was so haunting. So beautiful.
Then he kills himself... I heard someone say
he was on drugs. But I remember thinking.
He just felt too much. Then one day Ms. M
Played "Dear Vincent" for us and used it
for a writing prompt.

~~~

I had no real reason to choose those playing the two characters, except they are actors playing in YA movies. And, they are of an age when all of the teenage angst is the hardest to understand, both for themselves and for others around them.  Both E. V. and Roman start out telling us about themselves.

Basically E. V. hates her mother and it seems the feeling is mutual according to E. V. Even if her mother doesn't hate her, she's a snob and plays the role to the extreme, so there is a good reason for E.V.'s feelings, it seems. E.V. is considering becoming a writer so she tends to provide longer entries than Rome. 

Charlie. I really love Charlie.
The dog really looks at me. He
listens when I talk to him.
He seems to know what I'm
thinking or feeling.
~~~

There is a distinct difference in the writing style for Roman and it is easy to move from one entry to the next--more specifically, the entire book contains nothing more than entries from each of the two characters! Somehow it works, although you may have to wait to learn something you are curious about, to find on another entry. Roman is a normal guy and just shares a little about what he enjoys--music, his dog, Charlie who you can tell is Roman's best friend...

...I guess I'll put down some stuff I like. I really like Metallica. That song, One, especially. They are so good. I like a lot of the old stuff. Like the Goo Goo Dolls and Nirvana. Yeah, I really like Nirvana. A teacher once called me Kurt Cobain. I could kinda see that I look a little like Him. Not so fragile looking. Me, I mean. And I would never off myself. No. I think I'm too curious about stuff. I'd want to see what was going to happen next. But I love playing the guitar

Overall, it was apparent that the author does indeed have excellent skills and knowledge from her counseling experience. The blog/journal entries are solid with the voices from each character being realistic based upon their age and sex...Their interests are varied and reflect the particular setting from which each have grown. 

For instance, it was refreshing to see that E. V. had found the life of the rich and famous not to her liking and that, although it did drive a wedge between her and her mother, she could logically see that something was not right with her mother's choices. But then, she, too, played the routine games between teens and parents...

I made myself throw up today. No, I'm not bulimic. I just wanted to stay home from school. So, I had to convince my mother that I was ill. That finger-throat-thing worked well, but my throat hurt afterwards and I was nauseous the rest of the day. It's actually too disgusting. I think I'll find another way to stay home. Gagging is a terrible feeling...

~~~

10  I just saw August Rush. It's a great film. I wonder: does love like that exist? 

Can a person really hope for that? Do such men really exist? Are there men

who are romantic? Who can really love someone so much? To search for her, to give up so much to find her and to KNOW, to just KNOW that this is the one and to settle for nothing else. And, also, if a man did act like that, was so fixated to find this woman who so haunts his thoughts and dreams, how removed would that be from Sting's "Every Breath You Take..."

At the same time Rome lived a life where he had few choices--his parents were who they were and he had reacted emotionally and intellectually to that environment. For instance, Rome writes about his younger life, admitting his own choices were not the best...but right for him...

Ever since fourth grade I've been labeled a gifted underachiever. I see it more like a kid who doesn't give a sh.. (see Mr. L, I'm being a good boy) If I could skateboard, play video games and put graffiti around the neighborhood, I found that a lot more fun that studying times tables.

Then I got some social worker who would sit me down and tell me how lucky I was to be gifted. How I can choose any area of "endeavor" for a career. So, I'd say with a straight face (she was a total idiot) "I want to sell shoes. I love sneakers. Do I need a college degree for that? Somebody's got to sell shoes, right?" And she's tongue-tied. The first time I did this I was only nine. I think that's a pretty cool kid. I mean what could she do? Say people who sell shoes are dumb? So the next year, they sent me to another one. This one was prepared. He wore some t-shirt with like Twisted Sister on it. Like I was supposed to think he was cool...

~~~

E.V. and Rome--of course, they know each other. They are doing the same project, right? But how they meet, how they feel about each other...well, that's all woven up in the daily activities of each individual. How does their relationship affect the other parts of their lives? Does it change them in some important ways and does their relationship develop into something more?

The real lives of any of us are affected by daily activities. No matter who or what we have strong feelings about, there is always something else that pulls us away from something or someone we prefer to do or be with. Frustration, longing, fear, anger are all emotions that we face in so many situations...If you, perhaps, are facing some of your own, you will undoubtedly find something in this book that will express what someone else is doing or saying about the same things. It's an excellent book for teenagers--and any adult who wants to know more about their own or their teenagers friends. 

The book itself if very well written and moves constantly from the perspective of E. V. and Rome. The amazing character development is readily apparent as readers begin to know each of the characters and respond to their respective situations. Truly an authentic and provocative book that will not only intrigue, but may be helpful related to tough personal areas of life that teenagers, in particular, may face. For instance, I found the brief touch with bulimia uniquely done and yet with such found determination in response to trying it of potential value to all those who may have or could consider this type of action.

Highly recommended for YAs in particular! But a great read for anybody!

GABixlerReviews

Giorgina Liguori is a writer for television, of novels (Samsara) which is based on Brian Weiss' ideas on reincarnation and asks the question: what if..., books for parents and grandparents (Creating the Creative Child), and the true-to-life story of real teenagers in E.V.& Rome. She has had published hundreds of articles in magazines and newspapers. She is also a counselor, group leader and workshop leader for women and parents and does public speaking engagements around the country. As a teacher and counselor, she has 18 years experience. For five years she worked as a supervisor for the NYC drug and alcohol prevention program, teaching parents, teachers and guidance counselors how to work with at-risk teens. As a writer she has worked in NYC as a television writer and as a journalist and editor. In addition, she has worked on newspapers in Florida and North Carolina. She has done, and continues to do, workshops on writing, and "re-writing your life" which blends writing and psychology. She was trained by Cambridge University in England to teach American high school students Cambridge University writing and literature classes. She is a born and bred New Yorker, a proud "downtown" girl, but is now working in Ft. Lauderdale. She's lived in Morocco and "the furthest place from home for this New Yorker", a mountaintop in North Carolina. "My greatest achievement", Giorgina will tell you, "are the amazing young adults I have raised: each so different; each so wonderful."