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GUYAHOLIC
by Carolyn Mackler
Reviewed by Norah Piehl
Hardcover
Candlewick Press
ISBN: 9780763625375
432 pages
Author Biography |
Review |
Excerpt
CarolynMackler.com |
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-- ABOUT THE BOOK --
V Valentine is the queen of meaningless hookups. Ever since her mom dumped her
with her grandparents, she has bounced from guy to guy. But in the spring of
senior year, a fateful hockey puck lands her in the lap of Sam Almond. Right
from the start, things with Sam are different. V is terrified to admit it, but
this might be meaningful after all. On the afternoon of graduation, V receives
some shocking news. Later, at a party, she makes an irreversible mistake and
risks losing Sam forever. When her mom invites her to Texas, V embarks on a
cross-country road trip with the hopes of putting two thousand miles between
herself, Sam and the wreckage of that night.
With her trademark blend of humor and compassion, Carolyn Mackler takes readers
on an unforgettable ride of missed exits, misadventures and the kind of epiphanies
that come only when you're on a route you've never taken before.
Sometimes it takes getting hit with a hockey puck to help you see what's good
for you! Carolyn Mackler is back --- and V is off on a solo road trip --- in
this funny, poignant follow-up to VEGAN VIRGIN VALENTINE.
-- AUTHOR BIOGRAPHY --
Carolyn Mackler (www.CarolynMackler.com) is the author of the award-winning teen novels, THE EARTH, MY BUTT, & OTHER BIG ROUND THINGS (A Michael L. Printz Honor Book), VEGAN VIRGIN VALENTINE, and LOVE AND OTHER FOUR-LETTER WORDS. Her latest novel, GUYAHOLIC:
A Story of Finding, Flirting, Forgetting…and the Boy Who Changes Everything,
came out in August 2007. Carolyn’s novels have been published in several
countries, including the United Kingdom, Australia, Germany, France, Italy,
Korea, the Netherlands, Denmark, Israel, and Indonesia.
Carolyn has contributed to magazines including Seventeen, Glamour, CosmoGIRL!,
Girls’ Life, Storyworks, and American Girl. She has a short story in THIRTEEN,
edited by James Howe, and in SIXTEEN, edited by Megan McCafferty.
Carolyn lives with her husband and young son in New York City. A graduate of
Vassar College, she is currently working on her fifth novel for teenagers.
-- REVIEW --
Carolyn Mackler's 2004 novel VEGAN VIRGIN VALENTINE introduced the unforgettable character of Vivienne (V for short) Valentine. The only problem? V played second fiddle to the book’s main character, her overachieving aunt Mara, who spent her entire senior year trying to break out of her repressive shell --- with a nudge or two from V.
Now, at last, V is the star of her own novel. It's a year later, and V has surprised everyone by staying in Brockport, New York, with her grandparents, graduating from college and even getting accepted to Boston University. It seems that V, who spent most of her childhood bouncing from state to state with her flighty, commitment-phobic mother Aimee, finally has her stuff together.
Even V's love life has been on an even keel for senior year. Former hookup queen V actually has been dating the same guy since March, even though her previous relationship record was three weeks. But she isn’t sure what to call the thing she has with Sam. He wants the two to be a couple, "complete with prom and promises and pictures in each other's lockers." V, however, can't even hold hands in public --- "hand-holding is in another league. It means couple. It means commitment. It means I'd better fill up my tank because I'm going to drive a hundred miles in the opposite direction." Sam, on the other hand, says that V just needs to "let herself love." But can't he see that's easier said than done?
Right after graduation, V does something that potentially could destroy the relationship --- or whatever --- she has with Sam. Fueled by disappointment over her mother's no-show at graduation and by Sam's annoying insistence on talking about feelings (not to mention a few vodka cranberries), V does something rash that soon has her headed for the hills for real.
Or, if not to the hills, at least to San Antonio, where her mother has invited her for part of the summer. V is not sure how to feel about Aimee's invitation --- she hasn't seen her mother since she moved in with her grandparents and is just hoping Aimee doesn't break one more promise. But on her solo cross-country road trip, V reconnects with her past --- and with herself --- and finally might find a way to follow Sam's advice after all.
Readers who loved VEGAN VIRGIN VALENTINE and were left wanting to know more about V will be thrilled with GUYAHOLIC. This is perhaps Mackler's most mature novel to date, and although there is still plenty of humor, the main focus is on V's self-discovery and self-acceptance.
The road trip always has been a classic metaphor for self-discovery, and V's journey is no different. Besides giving V a chance to reconnect with figures from her past (including Mara), the road trip allows V to get lost --- and to find her own way, to confront her fears of being alone, and to make some truly life-changing decisions. Readers will love taking this trip along with V, getting to know her better just as she gets to know her true self.
--- Reviewed by Norah Piehl
-- EXCERPT --
It all started with the puck.
In March of my senior year, I went to a Brockport High School hockey game. I’m
not a big sports fan, but I’d been hooking up with Amos Harrington since
the past weekend and he played center and kept saying I should come cheer on
the team.
I also went to the game because I didn’t have work or rehearsal that afternoon.
And my grandparents’ annoying friends were visiting for the weekend, so
I was steering clear of the house as much as possible. But most of all, Amos
was my only current prospect. And more than anything, I hated being without
a prospect.
Amos and I had fooled around three times in the past week. Once at a party,
once at his house, and once in the auditorium after school. I’d never
had a guy last longer than two weeks, and most of them didn’t make it
beyond a night. So with Amos’s expiration date rapidly approaching, I
needed to milk this for all it was worth or get out and scout new prospects.
I got to the rink late because my grandparents’ friends cornered me in
the kitchen. I had my headphones on, so I was hoping they’d get the hint.
But Chuck hugged me, and Gwen, whose eyebrows were plucked into a permanent
state of shock, gestured at my jeans and sleeveless red top and said, "You’re
leaving the house in that?"
I considered pretending I couldn’t hear her, but my grandparents were
hovering nearby, so I switched off my music. "It’s not that cold
out," I said. "Anyway, I’ll be indoors the whole time."
"Won’t you be at the ice rink?" my grandpa asked. "V, you
just got over a sore throat, and you really should--"
"Fine," I said, gritting my teeth. "I’ll take a sweater."
By the time I arrived at the game, the bleachers were jammed. I stood at the
top, scanning the stands. Finally, I recognized some kids from Chicago, the
play in which I’d just been cast as a lead. They were sitting down in
the front row. I stripped off my sweater, stuffed it in my bag, and squeezed
through the crowd until I reached Chastity and Trinity Morgenstern. They were
identical twins and the biggest party girls I’d ever met, which was ironic
given their names and those delicate crosses around their necks. The only way
I could tell them apart was that Chastity’s necklace was silver and Trinity’s
was gold. Also, at parties Chastity tended to make out in public places while
Trinity consumed massive amounts of alcohol and then conked out for the remainder
of the night.
"Hey, V!" Trinity said. "I love your shirt."
"Where’d you get those boobs?" Chastity asked.
"Victoria’s Secret," I said. "My latest addiction."
"Among others," Trinity said, laughing.
"You’re one to talk," I murmured.
As Chastity cracked up, I scanned the ice for Amos or, more notably, his butt.
But before I compose a novel about the hotness of Amos’s hindquarters,
I have to interject a quick word about my boobs. I’m the first to admit
that I’m not endowed in the mammary department and had recently begun
siphoning my Pizza Hut paychecks into expensive padded bras. But guys love cleavage
and, well, I love guys.
The hockey game charged forward. I was partially chatting with the twins, partially
watching Amos, and mostly exchanging glances with a guy to my left and a few
rows up. As I was maneuvering down the bleachers, I saw him check me out. He
was wearing a canary-yellow jacket with a ski-lift tag hanging off the zipper.
He had a coating of stubble and he looked older, like he went to the college.
I shook out my hair and looked back at Ski Lift Boy. He was saying something
to his buddy, and then he glanced at me with that lusty look that guys save
for video games, red meat, and cute girls.
I’m not saying I’m this gorgeous prom queen, but my skin is clear
and my nose is okay and my honey-colored hair is long and everyone tells me
I have a good body, though it doesn’t help that I’m taller than
most human beings, at least the ones in high school. I think the biggest thing
going for me, though, is that if there’s an attractive guy in my radius,
I can work it hard and generally get him interested.
Ski Lift Boy raised his eyebrows as if to say, Do I know you? I smiled back,
already envisioning how we could meet near the concession stand and exchange
numbers and I’d go to his dorm tonight and he’d have a single room
so we could--
"WATCH OUT!"
I whipped my head around in time to see the hockey puck hurtling toward me,
but not in time enough to dodge it.
I heard the impact as it splintered my forehead. I felt intense pain. I sat
still for a second, totally stunned, before wilting backward.
Someone shrieked, "Oh my god! She’s been hit!"
Someone else screamed, "Call 911!"
Someone else shouted, "Does anyone get cellphone reception in here?"
My head landed in a lap. My eyes were closed, and there was blood leaking onto
my hair. And the pain. Oh my god. The pain.
The person with the lap pressed a sweatshirt against my forehead.
"I’m sure it looks worse than it is," he said.
I wondered how bad it looked.
"Is she dead?" I heard someone ask.
"The ambulance is here!" someone else announced.
"Should they bring in the stretcher, or can she walk out?"
I recognized the voice. It was that genius who’d just wondered whether
I was dead.
"Real genius," the guy with the lap muttered.
If I weren’t dealing with a major head injury, I would have cracked up.
But it’s hard to laugh when you’re drenched with blood and possibly
dead.
The guy with the lap kept pressing the sweatshirt to my head.
I remember smelling basil and garlic.
I remember thinking it smelled good.
Excerpted from GUYAHOLIC © Copyright 2007 by Carolyn Mackler. Reprinted with permission by Candlewick Press. All rights reserved.
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