![]() There’s nothing particularly YOUNG ADULT HERO about it. His situation is odd, but not exceptional. ![]() The erstwhile suitor, Sam, is super ordinary. She’s prickly but not painfully desperate. She’s hard to be friends with, but she isn’t particularly naive or untrusting. The main character, Penny, is difficult and set in her ways. ![]() Entering college is a strange world, and Choi really captures the strangeness of leaving home but still feeling indelibly tied to your home while trying to navgiate the newess of being completely independent. These characters aren’t high schoolers though, and that was a plus for me. Sometimes you need a sweet, simple young adult romance. And it was everything its cover promised me. I ignored other things that I had to do on Easter Sunday afternoon and read half of it before bed. I took this precious book home with me from the store. Still, they swap numbers and stay in touch-via text-and soon become digitally inseparable, sharing their deepest anxieties and secret dreams without the humiliating weirdness of having to see each other.Īwkward turtles falling in love over text messages? WHERE DO I SEND MY CASH MONEY? Oh, to this B&N cashier right here who knows me by name? Cool. When Sam and Penny cross paths it’s less meet-cute and more a collision of unbearable awkwardness. He knows that this is the god-awful chapter of his life that will serve as inspiration for when he’s a famous movie director but right this second the seventeen bucks in his checking account and his dying laptop are really testing him. He works at a café and sleeps there too, on a mattress on the floor of an empty storage room upstairs. Literally, figuratively, emotionally, financially. When Penny heads to college in Austin, Texas, to learn how to become a writer, it’s seventy-nine miles and a zillion light years away from everything she can’t wait to leave behind. Her friends were okay, her grades were fine, and while she somehow managed to land a boyfriend, he doesn’t actually know anything about her. Dust jacket copy time:įor Penny Lee high school was a total nonevent. They are marketing in its most basic element: what trends, colors, fonts and negative space can we exploit to maximize the likelihood that 14 to 48-year-old eyeballs will be drawn to this product? But for this book, the cover is not just about making sure that teenage and young adult girls (and ok 30-something-year-old moms) are drawn to the design. And I really wanted to read the book because of it. ( Sidenote: at 11 and 13 BOTH of them have finally agreed with their mother that reading is the best.) Emergency Contact was sitting on an endcap between the information desk and the teen romance section. This weekend I was in my local Barnes and Noble getting Easter gifts for my girls. And to be real? It’s also that Rainbow Rowell endorsement. It’s how intimate they look while curled away from one another and staring into their phones. It’s not the black-lined contrast of the stylized characters. Choi’s Emergency Contact in all its dustjacketed glory: Judge This Book By Its Coverīehold, the cover of Mary H.K. We do us, and we do good reads no matter what they look like.īut when I say it’s time to judge a book by its cover, I mean this: sometimes a cover is SO good, it deserves to be a reason you love the book. And we have no problem reading a dorky, embarrassing cover on our commute. And despite all that well-meaning encouragement, all of those things definitely should have been judged by their covers.īut rarely is it ever really applied to books, and even more rarely is actually applied to book covers. And maybe someone, somewhere, once encouraged a 15-year-old girl to ride the Zippin Pippin with it. A few of us had a choir teacher who nudged us toward that skinny, zit-ridden baritone who wanted to sing All I Ask of You with us for All West auditions. ![]() We all had a great aunt who served some sort of half-jiggly, half-solid salad/treacle/ambrosia concoction every holiday and who encouraged us to dive into it with this idiom. “ Don’t judge a book by its cover,” goes back to at least the mid-20th century (although someone on the internet said it was as old as an 1860’s newspaper that they could barely make out), but we have all grown up hearing it. ![]() It’s an adage that really has nothing to do with reading. ![]()
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |