Synopsis
It begins as an
assignment for English class: Write a letter to a dead person. Laurel
chooses Kurt Cobain because her sister, May, loved him. And he died
young, just like May did. Soon, Laurel has a notebook full of letters to
people like Janis Joplin, Amy Winehouse, Amelia Earhart, Heath Ledger,
and more; though she never gives a single one of them to her teacher.
She writes about starting high school, navigating new friendships,
falling in love for the first time, learning to live with her
splintering family. And, finally, about the abuse she suffered while May
was supposed to be looking out for her. Only then, once Laurel has
written down the truth about what happened to herself, can she truly
begin to accept what happened to May. And only when Laurel has begun to
see her sister as the person she was; lovely and amazing and deeply
flawed; can she begin to discover her own path.
Review
There are books which become an experience, that are more
like a journey than a story, and this is one of those precious few. Its premise is simple enough: Laurel, a high
school freshman who’s lost her sister, May, in a tragic accident, is assigned
an English project to write a letter to someone who’s passed. What happens from there is an inadvertent
journey of self-discovery, as Laurel chooses former celebrities like Kurt
Cobain, Judy Garland, E.E. Cummings, Amelia Earhart and Jim Morrison, to name a
few. Touching on their own tragedies,
Laurel weaves together her own story with those of each deceased person she
reaches out to, questioning their choices and their histories as she divulges
the truths of her own. There is no
damnation, simply a pure and honesty curiosity to discover the secrets behind
each life and how they factored in to the untimely deaths of each person. In each one, there is a lovely and poignant
connection, though sometimes it takes several letters to uncover.
The storytelling is so unique, yet so unassuming and gentle,
that you hardly notice that there’s very little dialogue, as everything is
being recounted in letter format. It
makes those moments so special and so perfect, that they practically sing. Each word is carefully selected, there is no
excess in this novel, not a single moment that felt out of place or contrived,
and the voice is so very authentic it felt every bit a fifteen year old girl
coming of age.
As Laurel struggles to come to terms with her older sister’s
imperfections, someone she thought to be untouchable and unblemished, she
begins to discover herself on her own very self-destructive path. Every letter, each story, provides a glimmer
of hope and a gut-wrenching reality. At
times it was difficult to get through, the brutal honesty of Laurel’s secrets
and the way she clung so desperately to this idealized version of her sister, that
I had to walk away. But Laurel’s story
was so intriguing that I always returned.
Initially I thought it would be impossible for the author to
make me care about secondary characters, being that the letter writing format
seemed rather limiting, but I found myself deeply entrenched in those stories
as well. Characters like Hannah and
Natalie, who at first I thought of as enablers, turned out to be suffering
through issues of abuse, sexual preferences and the loss of a parent. As these friendships flourished, these
situations come to light, exposing the depth and difficulty of each. Other characters, like Tristan and Kristen,
demonstrate true friendship and what a healthy, loving relationship looks like
and provide support and guidance. And Sky,
Laurel’s love interest, battles his own demons throughout the book as he tries
to love Laurel during her self-destructive period while also struggling to cope
with his mother’s mental illness and abandonment by his father.
What I appreciate about this book is that the parental-types
are not forgotten or brushed aside. Laurel
spends half her time with her Aunt Amy, her mother’s sister, allowing her to go
to a school outside of her old district and away from May’s legacy, and the
other half with her father. Her mother,
who struggles with May’s death, has packed up and moved to California, leaving
Laurel to question her role and responsibility in May’s accident and causes her
to feel abandoned and unloved, and further exacerbating her need to numb
herself. Yet, she too is included in the
story as Laurel fights to claim her identity and come to terms with the concept
of letting go. These very different
relationships evolve with Laurel over the course of the novel. At first she has no idea how to connect with
her father, the loss of his wife and child seeming to overwhelm and detach him
from life, but as Laurel finds her voice, there is a lovely, very organic,
coming together of these characters which allows each to begin the process of
healing. Amy, so terrified of her own
empty life, at first clings hard to Laurel and really any idea of love, to the
point of obsession. But Laurel’s
revelations and moments of truth, offer Amy opportunities to grow and what at
first seems a very disjointed and uncomfortable relationship, grows in to one
of mutual understanding.
The true beauty of this novel is its voice. Ava Dellaira adopts a very adolescent,
conversational tone and is able to easily convey the childhood wonder and
bravado teens experience as they find their voice. Laurel makes observations which are very
unique to that period of development and I applaud the author for being able to
tap into that without it sounding disingenuous.
The simplicity of the words chosen shows a true understanding of that
age group. Often I find myself pulled
out of novels by the descriptions or language I know to be uniquely adult. Not so with this book. Each sentence, every page, felt authentic to
me, as if written by a young girl. And
the letters themselves were honest in a way only children know to be.
This is the rare book that I would recommend to anyone. There is no need or want to limit this to the
Young Adult fan. The material is
accessible to younger readers but is a stunning and captivating read for those
older readers as well. A definite must
read for 2014.
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