Sunday, December 8, 2013

Robyn Schneider's "The Beginning of Everything" + The Neighbourhood's "Sweater Weather"

This book. I knew before I finished the first page that I liked it, and I knew before I finished the first chapter that I loved it. It's quirky and original and well written. 

From Goodreads:

Golden boy Ezra Faulkner believes everyone has a tragedy waiting for them—a single encounter after which everything that really matters will happen. His particular tragedy waited until he was primed to lose it all: in one spectacular night, a reckless driver shatters Ezra’s knee, his athletic career, and his social life.

No longer a front-runner for Homecoming King, Ezra finds himself at the table of misfits, where he encounters new girl Cassidy Thorpe. Cassidy is unlike anyone Ezra’s ever met, achingly effortless, fiercely intelligent, and determined to bring Ezra along on her endless adventures.

But as Ezra dives into his new studies, new friendships, and new love, he learns that some people, like books, are easy to misread. And now he must consider: if one’s singular tragedy has already hit and everything after it has mattered quite a bit, what happens when more misfortune strikes? 

Robyn Schneider’s The Beginning of Everything is a lyrical, witty, and heart-wrenching novel about how difficult it is to play the part that people expect, and how new beginnings can stem from abrupt and tragic endings.

In the UK this book is called "Severed Heads, Broken Hearts" - how great is that? You can go to the Epic Reads blog to see a picture of the cover animated.

I don't really know what else to say, quite frankly. This is one of those books that I really like, but I can't really express my feelings in words. This book is about belonging, and not belonging. About changing, and how you change, and how you see change and where it comes from, and how what you think is happening isn't always what's happening. It's about getting to know people and then really getting to know people.I'll just put in some of the author's words.

That was what excited people around here, getting together a mob to shoo the coyote back in to the avocado groves, to remove the interloper from our perfect little planned community. No one went looking for adventure; they chased it away.

The way I figured it, keeping quiet was safe. Words could betray you if you chose the wrong ones, or mean less if you used too many. Jokes could be grandly miscalculated, or stories deemed boring, and I'd learned early on that my sense of humor and my ideas about what sorts of things were fascinating didn't exactly overlap with my friends'.

"You don't want to quote Robert Frost, for God's sake. Quote John Rawls, or John Stuart Mill." (I did a paper on John Stuart Mill's "The Subjection of Women" in college and it made me feel like a genius to understand him.)

She tasted like buried treasure, and swing sets and coffee. She tasted the way fireworks felt, like something you could get close to but never really have just for yourself.

There's something that might be a reference to DFTBA and Nerdfighters, so that's awesome.

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