Drowning Instinct

March 1, 2012

Gr 9 Up-Jenna, 16, is vulnerable, abused, and broken. Her dad is a controlling workaholic, her mom is a drunk, and her brother, who had been her salvation, left to serve in Iraq. Following a stint in a psychiatric facility, she enrolls in a new school where she forms a special attachment with charismatic teacher and coach Mitch Anderson, who has a special way of connecting to students with problems. The novel begins in the aftermath of a tragic event. To explain it, Jenna speaks into a police detective's recorder and relates the story of her life, which she says "begins with Mr. Anderson." Her tale is akin to viewing a slow-motion train wreck. Readers are horrified, and know immediately that there's no sunny outcome, but at the same time they won't be able to tear themselves away. Jenna's voice is convincing; she's intelligent and wryly flippant as she records her story of sexual abuse. Her tone is realistic; at times it is filled with raw emotion and then juxtaposed with a dispassionate retelling of events as though no one could be expected to maintain that level of emotion. The novel begins slowly but quickly builds steam-and controversy-with unexpected turns and revelations. Neither the victims nor the predators are stereotypical and that ambiguity, while unsettling, is sure to spark discussion.-Patricia N. McClune, Conestoga Valley High School, Lancaster, PA

Copyright 2012 School Library Journal, LLC Used with permission.

January 1, 2012
Bearing scars both literal and figurative, Jenna Lord, 16, falls for Mitch Anderson, the married chemistry teacher who helps her survive a rocky start at a Wisconsin science magnet school. Years earlier, Jenna was maimed in a house fire. Today she copes with stress by e-mailing her beloved brother, a Marine in Iraq, and by self-mutilation, which recently earned her a stint in a hospital psychiatric ward. Isolated, with a domineering, plastic-surgeon dad and alcoholic, bookstore-owner mom, Jenna's increasingly smitten with Mitch, who goes out of his way to advocate for her and invite her into his life. Jenna's voice is edgily authentic, but other characters seem to consist entirely of symptoms--case studies in uncontrolled violence, rape, self-mutilation, victim-grooming and sexual and substance abuse. The one exception, a refreshingly normal classmate and potential boyfriend, is soon left behind. The framing conceit (Jenna dictates her story to a detective who has given her a digital recorder) is distancing. Readers will easily unravel the tired, central plot twist, but they may be confused when Jenna morphs abruptly, without explanation, from a teenager under surveillance--lacking cell phone, driver's license, privacy--into a free spirit enjoying all of the above. Readers will find a more challenging, original take on abuse, abusers and recovery in Margo Lanagan's Tender Morsels (2008). (Fiction. 15 & up)

(COPYRIGHT (2012) KIRKUS REVIEWS/NIELSEN BUSINESS MEDIA, INC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.)

February 15, 2012
Grades 9-12 At 16, Jenna Lord has suffered enough misfortune to last a lifetime. Badly burned in the fire that destroys her grandfather's house, she subsequently suffers a breakdown and is briefly institutionalized. Her homelife isn't much better: she calls her plastic-surgeon father Psycho Dad, her mother abuses alcohol, and her beloved older brother and only confidant is in Iraq. To make things even worse, she cuts herself. Jenna is figuratively drowning in disorder until she enrolls in a new school and meets her chemistry teacher, a caring man who strives to help her. Jenna's gratitude turns quickly to love and things get . . . complicated. Bick, a child psychiatrist, writes about dysfunction with a professional's insight, and she goes to great pains to create believable characterstoo much so, making the novel excessively long. Nevertheless, she manages to avoid the didactic and dramatizes dysfunction and disorder in ways that will attract readers and offer opportunities for classroom discussion.(Reprinted with permission of Booklist, copyright 2012, American Library Association.)