boomqueen

Melinda is an outcast. She busted up a summer party by calling the cops and everyone, even her former best friends, hate her. The safest thing Melinda can do is be alone, in her room, in her head, in the abandoned janitor’s closet at school. Because something happened at the party that she cannot think about—something that bubbles up at the edges of her carefully constructed blankness and silence—because if Melinda thought about it, she would have to speak.

It’s one of those books that you hear about in my field: the kind that really stands out for how well it is written and how much of an impact it has had on the people who have read it.

But I don’t usually read teen angst or teen probs books, unless there’s some kind of twist to it. I’m all over fantasy/sci-fi books full of teen angst, but I usually need the cool supernatural premise to hook me and THEN I get invested in the characters and their arcs.

Suffice it to say, this isn’t your average teen probs book. It isn’t your average rape survivor book either. It is incredibly well-crafted and emotionally intense, focusing not on the event but the aftermath and how pervasively trauma affects your life.

This year was the 10th anniversary of the book, and the author released a poem based on the words/phrases/responses to the book people had sent to her in letter and emails over time. It’s pretty amazing: