Author Archives: Alicia Abdul

You want a friend around you and if they can’t be around you, at least you know that they’re thinking about you or you’re thinking about them. You might have a picture of them on your phone or hanging in your house to remind you of a good time and the moment you’re back together, it’s like you never left.

I don’t necessarily remember the ending or even the main character’s name of a book, rather I remember the feeling I got when I closed it. And that feeling stays with me like the feelings of being with or talking to friends. And just like that picture on the wall, I’ve got a bookshelf that’s the perfect reminder of all of our favorite pastimes together. It’s not a cluttered shelf with the new crowding out the best. It’s simply, a bookshelf of the best.

My book friends can be grouped in to a few different categories like we have friends at work, childhood friends, or college friends. I’ve got ‘beautifully written’ friends like A Northern Light by Donnelly, North of Beautiful by Chen, and Flash Burnout by Madigan. I’ve got ‘creative’ friends like The Vagina Monologues by Ensler, Crank by Hopkins, and The Virgin Suicides by Eugenides. ‘Classics’ like Emily Dickinson’s poetry and Brave New World by Huxley. Or, ‘can’t-put-down’s’ like Loving Frank by Horan.

At any time, like calling up a good friend, I can just pull one off the shelf with a cup of tea, snuggle in, and indulge, as I have indulged in sharing what makes Eliot’s quote realistic and apropos for any reader.

Rich characters that shine in stories where hardship, pain, sorrow, or pure joy are played out is the hallmark of a gifted writer, and extra points when the secondary characters are as vibrant as the main one. For the second installment related to a new favorite quote, let’s discuss how books can be accessible and wise counselors.

I’m going to skip over YA titles like Crank by Hopkins or Hole In My Life by Gantos and talk about four newer titles that certainly have their place as catalysts for conversations about the real world issues teens can encounter and how to respond—or not.

Addiction is tough, but when you’re watching an adult continually make horrible decisions that affect them and their families, like Gabi, there’s not much to help navigate through it other than some humor. In Gabi, Girl in Pieces by Quintero, it’s exactly her humor that makes it memorable. So first, you need a dose of humor. Second, like Riordan Hall’s first book, Sugar, you’ll need the help of family. For Mercy, an emotionally abusive mother and brother dependent on her for more than any teenager should have to support, its Mercy’s older brother, who has pulled himself out of the tumultuousness that is now helping her too. Second, you need a cheerleader. And speaking of a cheerleader, Arlie from Mikulencak’s Burn Girl, has a long-lost uncle and best friend along with a new boyfriend who are her biggest supporters. They need her to move on from her mother’s fatal overdose and her burns from a meth explosion years ago. So, third is not just a family member for support but friends who are rooting for you as well.

In each of these three books, our female main characters show perseverance in the face of adversity and how they do it is just a little bit different: humor, family, and friends. For Quinero, Riordan Hall, and Mikulencak, they nailed it. They made the books easily readable, with likeable characters who have just enough to help them get through- and can teach us all a lesson while we’re reading them.

I don’t usually seek out movie adaptations of books, especially if they’re favorite books because let’s face it, there is nothing better than the book. In a few instances, years after the movies have had their releases, I’m presented with watching it and think because of the distance between the actual reading then the viewing, that I will be less critical. I can think of two adaptations that were spot on– Speak by Laurie Halse Anderson, with it’s movie directed by Jessica Sharzer and The Virgin Suicides by Jeffrey Eugenides, with it’s movie directed by Sofia Coppola. Now I can add a third to the list: Temple Grandin’s story. While I’ve only read Sy Montgomery’s book subtitled How the Girl Who Loved Cows Embraced Autism and Changed the World and none of her others… yet, I also remembered that Claire Danes had played her in a movie and thought, I’m going to give it a whirl.

Both the Montgomery’s book and Danes’ portrayal were emotional roller coasters of the historical period where autism was thought of as childhood schizophrenia and parents were pressured to institutionalize, but the importance of relationships that can motivate, focus, or develop others. I was enamored with the conceptual understanding shared with viewers by the director, Mick Jackson, as well as the human element. I was touched with the outpouring of gratitude the movie closed with, I was inspired by the portrayal of a girl who can see in pictures in the book and how obstacles can lead to new adventures. This is a pairing as good as chocolate and peanut butter.

While trolling Pinterest tonight, this quote caught me and especially the last line. In the last three years, I have become so enamored with YA nonfiction both graphic and narrative and immediately thought back to my most recent read, Susan Campbell Bartoletti’s newest, Terrible Typhoid Mary: A True Story of the Deadliest Cook in America, which is as much a biography of her life as it is about discovery, science, and the law inserted sometimes blatantly and sometimes surreptitiously among the pages and images. How did I not know about North Brother Island? How did I not know that typhoid fever and typhus, while somewhat homo-phonic are not the just the same disease in different stages?

I love it for its explosiveness and its research, which leads me back to books being the most patient of teachers. What is one reason that I start most of my conversations with people with “I read…” BECAUSE books are our teachers. And because this quote has captured my imagination, my newest posts will connect books as friends and as counselors.  

Conversations are taking place about mental health. Mental health and guns, mental health and mass shootings, mental health and healthcare, and the list goes on. So it’s perfect that there are so many well-timed YA books recently with characters dealing with mental health and whether they are based in reality or have magical elements, I’m feeling warm from the beauty of the writing and the creativity that the authors have come at the topics that they must be discussed!

• My absolute favorite recently was Challenger Deep by Neal Shusterman, not only for the sensitivity and range of the characters and topic but to read the afterword in which Shusterman describes his own son’s mental health. It only serves to endear readers as books like Stuck in Neutral did with Terry Trueman.
• Next was the short, dark prose of Patrick Downes in Fell of Dark, who is a newcomer as far as I can gather. With intersecting stories of two youth struggling to combat their illnesses and end up meeting, consequences could be explosive. Though as with many books, I enjoyed how well put-together it was complete with fitting quotes to lead off certain chapters.
• The Nest by Kenneth Oppel was reminiscent of A Monster Calls by Patrick Ness, but with it’s own spin that was just as much hallucinogenic and psychosomatic as truly about mental illness, but I’d still put it in this category. With the main character struggling for attention while his parents deal with the forewarned and untimely death of his little sister, he talks with and becomes a pawn of the queen bee in a bee’s nest growing a changeling baby/new sister to replace the ‘broken’ one that is taking up his parents’ attention.
• And last,  Forgive Me, Leonard Peacock by Matthew Quick, whose stunning first line will be as remembered as the actual story of a boy plotting to kill his former best friend and himself after he connects with some of his favorite people– like his senior neighbor, a girl he has a crush on, a violinist he listens to during lunch, and a favorite teacher. The issues are real and the fact that Leonard is looking for people to pull him out of his own thoughts is heartbreaking and vivid.

All I know is that more needs to be published and it definitely needs to be discussed in book groups, individually, and anywhere else and with whoever.

It seemed like I was batting a thousand recently with a string of flops. Does everyone else have those streaks where it seems like every book you pick up just isn’t what you’re looking for in terms of topic, readability, or meeting expectations?

I recently tried Rosamund Hodge’s second, Crimson Bound, after adoring Cruel Beauty. In Crimson Bound, her attempt was Little Red Riding Hood meets the tale, The Girl with No Hands, instead of a creepy, gothic horror with a beautifully-illustrated cover, I felt like all I got was a beautifully-illustrated cover. Likewise, I adored The Paris Wife by Paula McLain but Circling the Sun fell short as another period piece and maybe it was because I tried reading Beryl’s story, West with the Night, and couldn’t engage which is why McLain’s attempt at telling her story fell flat too. And last, a new contemporary YA story, Those Girls by Lauren Saft felt so shallow and toxic that the edgy topic (which I can appreciate it many other YA titles) wasn’t my bag for her attempt.

Maybe in another frame of mind, time, or place, I could have kept with them, but frankly, I know I won’t revisit them because there are too many books and too little time for that.

The first time I read To Kill a Mockingbird it was in high school and there was only one scene that engaged me at all and that was the scene where there was a scuffle in the woods. For most of the book I was indifferent to the writing and situation, whether that was the uncomfortable read-aloud time in class or not, it just wasn’t for me.

Recently though I had a conversation about re-reading books, namely the ‘classics’ that are well-read for a reason: because of universal themes, engaging characters, beautiful language, or historical poignancy to name a few. I had read The Great Gatsby in high school and disliked it also, but re-read it in college and it spoke to me. So I know that time does change things. Who we are as people specifically. Joan Didion wrote “I have already lost touch with a couple of people I used to be” and this is so apt. I’m morphing and changing in leaps and bounds. Finding my voice, making a statement, living out who I am.

With the renewed interest in Harper Lee because of an impending release of a new title, I mentioned that I disliked Mockingbird, but that I would consider re-reading it because of who I am today versus who I was as a self-centered sixteen year old. I’m about to crack open by own copy soon and am eager to discover my feelings for it as an avid reader and adult.

Has an opinion of a book ever changed for you?