A trifle—but a sustaining one.
Glimpses of the life of the titular Isobel, who sees herself as “just a girl from where nothing really happens,” presented as a charmingly idiosyncratic scrapbook.
Divided into three sections—Me; Friends, Otters, College & Art; and Love—the journal is immediately immersive, placing readers directly into Isobel’s world. It assumes those readers are sympathetically thumbing through its pages, nodding and saying, “oh, me, too!” The narrative is very loosely structured around Harrop’s life-as-inner-monologue, filled with references to Beyonce, friends, British pop stars, thrift shopping and tea. Readers meet family members (but only as a point of reference), and though Harrop sketches her friends, imbuing each miniportrait with real personality and a rather Sendak-ian verve, they don’t play roles in any anecdotes or stories. Indeed, the entire concept of story is beside the point here, as Harrop’s work reads like a Tumblr re-organized by hashtag rather than by date. Although most illustrations are by hand and Harrop includes pages scanned in from her actual diary, the overall conceit is of an online commonplace book brought into print. Some readers may wonder about the point of such an exercise. These readers are not the intended audience, who will see themselves, their interests and their remix approach to life reflected in the many pages of impossibly cute animal drawings and Lauren Child–like collages of sketches and photographs.
A trifle—but a sustaining one. (Graphic memoir. 12-16)Pub Date: Aug. 1, 2014
ISBN: 978-1-63079-003-5
Page Count: 208
Publisher: Switch/Capstone
Review Posted Online: May 13, 2014
Kirkus Reviews Issue: June 1, 2014
An emotional story that beautifully encompasses many sensitive topics.
Two best friends must navigate changing relationships during their first year of high school.
Jack and Immie have been inseparable since they were 7. But as ninth grade begins, Jack becomes more focused on soccer, and Immie finds herself looking for answers about her biological father. She’s always believed he was just a sperm donor, but when her mom shares personalized CDs he made but won’t say more—“he deserves his privacy. This was the arrangement we agreed upon”—Immie realizes that isn’t entirely true. When Jack isn’t as supportive of her quest for answers as Immie has hoped, she feels the distance between them grow. At the same time, Elijah, a sophomore soccer player, steps into her life, and she’s left to navigate her growing feelings for both boys. While the supporting characters’ storylines feel more like vehicles for exploring the love triangle and various heavy social topics, the complex leads are well developed, particularly Jack, whose anxiety and panic attacks highlight the importance of mental health support for boys. Both Immie’s and Jack’s stories are fully explored: Part One is told through Immie’s first-person voice, Part Two through Jack’s, and Part Three follows both of them in the third person. Meiser examines real topics that affect many teens and tweens in a mindful and respectful way. Main characters are cued white.
An emotional story that beautifully encompasses many sensitive topics. (Fiction. 12-16)Pub Date: Nov. 12, 2024
ISBN: 9781665948227
Page Count: 384
Publisher: Aladdin
Review Posted Online: Sept. 14, 2024
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Oct. 15, 2024
Those preparing to “slay the sucktastic beast known as high school” will particularly appreciate this spirited read.
In the sequel to Insignificant Events in the Life of a Cactus (2017), Aven Green confronts her biggest challenge yet: surviving high school without arms.
Fourteen-year-old Aven has just settled into life at Stagecoach Pass with her adoptive parents when everything changes again. She’s entering high school, which means that 2,300 new kids will stare at her missing arms—and her feet, which do almost everything hands can (except, alas, air quotes). Aven resolves to be “blasé” and field her classmates’ pranks with aplomb, but a humiliating betrayal shakes her self-confidence. Even her friendships feel unsteady. Her friend Connor’s moved away and made a new friend who, like him, has Tourette’s syndrome: a girl. And is Lando, her friend Zion’s popular older brother, being sweet to Aven out of pity—or something more? Bowling keenly depicts the universal awkwardness of adolescence and the particular self-consciousness of navigating a disability. Aven’s “armless-girl problems” realistically grow thornier in this outing, touching on such tough topics as death and aging, but warm, quirky secondary characters lend support. A few preachy epiphanies notwithstanding, Aven’s honest, witty voice shines—whether out-of-reach vending-machine snacks are “taunting” her or she’s nursing heartaches. A subplot exploring Aven’s curiosity about her biological father resolves with a touching twist. Most characters, including Aven, appear white; Zion and Lando are black.
Those preparing to “slay the sucktastic beast known as high school” will particularly appreciate this spirited read. (Fiction. 12-14)Pub Date: Sept. 17, 2019
ISBN: 978-1-4549-3329-8
Page Count: 272
Publisher: Sterling
Review Posted Online: June 9, 2019
Kirkus Reviews Issue: July 1, 2019
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