Less Is More (Real TV Series)

( 1 )

Overview


Abby gets tired of the constant teasing about her weight at youth group. When her PE teacher submits her name for the fitness challenge on her favorite reality TV show, Less is More, it seems to be the perfect solution. But is Abby up for the challenge?
Read More Show Less
... See more details below
Other sellers (Paperback)
  • All (17) from $1.99   
  • New (5) from $1.99   
  • Used (12) from $1.99   
Less Is More

Available on NOOK devices and apps  
  • NOOK Devices
  • NOOK HD/HD+ Tablet
  • NOOK
  • NOOK Color
  • NOOK Tablet
  • Tablet/Phone
  • NOOK for Windows 8 Tablet
  • NOOK for iOS
  • NOOK for Android
  • NOOK Kids for iPad
  • PC/Mac
  • NOOK for Windows 8
  • NOOK for PC
  • NOOK for Mac
  • NOOK Study
  • NOOK for Web

Want a NOOK? Explore Now

NOOK Book (eBook - New Edition)
$6.99
BN.com price
(Save 15%)$8.24 List Price
Note: Kids' Club Eligible. See More Details.

Overview


Abby gets tired of the constant teasing about her weight at youth group. When her PE teacher submits her name for the fitness challenge on her favorite reality TV show, Less is More, it seems to be the perfect solution. But is Abby up for the challenge?
Read More Show Less

What People Are Saying

From the Publisher

Abby's story will bring hope to teens that are struggling with a weight issue.  This must read book will help everyone become more sensitive to how words can deeply wound another person.
-Carole Lewis, First Place National Director

Read More Show Less

Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9780802454157
  • Publisher: Moody Publishers
  • Publication date: 3/28/2005
  • Series: Real TV Series
  • Pages: 180
  • Product dimensions: 5.48 (w) x 8.20 (h) x 0.59 (d)

Meet the Author


WENDY LAWTON, an award-winning writer, sculptor, and doll designer, founded the Lawton Doll Company in 1979. She currently works as an agent for the Books & Such Literary Agency. Wendy has written numerous books, including six for her Daughters of Faith series and four for her Real TV series. Wendy is active in her church and is a frequent speaker for women's groups. Wendy and her husband, Keith, are parents to three adult children and live in Hilmar, California.
Read More Show Less

Read an Excerpt


Abby woke to a blanket of fog on her first day of school. Not that fog was all that unusual. The famous San Francisco cloud cover greeted them almost every morning.

She'd worried about what to wear for days. She didn't want to wear something that screamed "new school clothes," but none of her Georgia clothes fit. What did San Francisco kids wear to school? She'd watched kids around the city, and it looked as if they had the same basic kinds of looks she was used to-from normal to trendy to skater to Goth and all points in between-but each style seemed cranked up a notch or two from Georgia styles. If the look was preppy, it was even more polished. If a student wore anti-establishment gear, it reeked with attitude. Back home her own style always stayed smack in the middle-jeans and a great top and maybe something quirky or fun like a bright handbag or a collection of bracelets. Here in San Francisco, though, she decided to dress subtly-to avoid notice. She was only too aware of her size. When she held up the jeans she planned to wear that morning, they looked enormous. How in the world did she manage to tip the scale at 173 pounds? It's not that she had ever been slender. When she left Suwanee she weighed a little over 145 pounds, but Jen had always said she'd carried it well. How did someone manage to put on more than 25 pounds in a handful of months? Enough worry about clothes and weight. It's too late for that now. She took a deep breath and entered the doors of her new school.

Read More Show Less

First Chapter

LESS is MORE


By WENDY LAWTON

Moody Publishers

Copyright © 2005 Wendy Lawton
All right reserved.

ISBN: 0-8024-5415-1


Chapter One

Changes

"Mom." Abby waved her hand over the dressing room door. "Are you out there?"

"Right here."

"Can you come here?" Abby waited until her mom tapped on the door before she opened it a crack. "I can't even get these jeans over my hips. I don't get this sizing."

"Want me to come in and have a look?"

"No!" Abby didn't mean to snap, but there she stood, jeans jammed midthigh. Saddlebags of dimpled flesh bulged out on both sides, hanging over the strangulating waistband. The sight disgusted her. "I mean, that's okay. I just need you to-" A peal of laughter sounded from the dressing room a couple of doors down, followed by whispers and giggles. Must have been a group of girls shopping together.

"What do you need?" Mom asked.

Abby opened the door a little wider and whispered, "I think I need the next largest size. Not the faded ones, the dark ones." She looked back over her shoulder at the mirror and sighed. "Can you also bring the size above that?"

"Sweetheart, let me in," Mom said as she pushed on the door.

"Just a minute." Abby tugged at the jeans, pushing them to the floor where she could step out of them. She kicked them to one side and slid her worn carpenter pants up to her waist. "Okay, come in."

Mom smiled as she looked at the crumpled pile of jeans on the floor. "See? You really do need your favorite dressing room maid to hang and fold as you go." She reached down and picked up the last pair, smoothing them out. "Let's try another store."

"Okay, but I really liked that last pair of pants. I just need a little bigger size."

Mom folded the jeans without making eye contact. "Unfortunately, this store stops at that size, honey."

"What do you mean?" She watched her mother pick up another pair of jeans from the floor.

"This store only handles junior sizes. They stop with this size." Mom continued to fold.

Abby didn't know what to say. She knew that about this store. At least she'd once known that. Okay. She'd put on weight since the move. Cece's cooking. She hadn't dared step on a scale. Especially since she'd spent most of the last three months snacking while watching television and snacking while reading and snacking while writing e-mails and snacking while sending IMs to her old friends in Suwanee and, well, snacking while staring out the window. But when you didn't know a single person in the entire city besides your mother and grandmother, what else could you do?

"I hate these stores."

"You're just unfamiliar with them," Mom soothed in her best encouraging voice.

"Yeah, I'm unfamiliar, but I also hate them." She looked at herself in the mirror and hated the sound of her voice-almost as much as she hated her reflection. Who was that looking back at her?

"But don't you love the excitement of shopping in a big city? The metro culture and all that?"

"Mom, except for Guess and Gap and Nike, there are mostly old-people stores here. What teen can afford Prada, Versace, or Louis Vuitton? San Francisco is not exactly the most happening place, you know."

"Maybe part of that is because we are shopping on a weekday." Mom stacked the clothes. "Ready to go?"

They walked out of the dressing room area empty-handed. Abby didn't even acknowledge the "how did you dog?" question from the dressing room attendant.

"We didn't find what we were after," Mom said. "But thanks for your help."

They took the elevator down to the first floor and wove their way through the counters and shoppers and out onto the street.

"Can we just go get something to drink? I think I'm sick of shopping."

"Sure. I could use a cup of coffee. Are you up for a mocha?"

"Okay."

"Maybe it will refresh us enough to get back to the task of finding you some cute school clothes."

"Cute?" Abby didn't mean to sound cynical, but she was already sick of the whole clothes thing.

"Oh, Abby," Mom said. "I know I use the wrong words, and I know shopping is no fun when you can't find the right styles and ..."

"You know it's not about style, Mom. It's about size." The words tumbled out. "I need to face facts. I've been living in a cocoon-in a fog. How could I have put on enough weight to change more than two sizes?" Just the thought of it made Abby want to cry.

Mom opened the door of the Starbucks. "Go get us a table. I'll get our coffees."

Abby sat down at the small table in the corner by the window. Her chest hurt. Was she having a heart attack? Don't be stupid. You don't need to become a hypochondriac on top of everything else.

"Here we are." Mom set the drinks on the table. "I'll get napkins. You didn't want something sweet to go with the coffee?"

Abby shook her head, pressing her lips together. She needed to shake this mood. It was one of the few days she and Mom had stirred to go out together. Was she going to let her disappointment ruin everything? Mom didn't deserve it.

She looked at her mother, standing to the side so a businessman could get his cream. Why couldn't she be slender like Mom? Mom looked as pretty as ever-her dark brown hair and blue eyes setting off a great complexion. Cece always called it Snow White coloring.

Ever since Dad ...

Abby stopped midthought. She still couldn't bring herself to say-or even think-that word. Ever since she and her mother had moved to San Francisco to live with Cece, Mom had hardly been able to eat. Abby was the exact opposite. She couldn't seem to get enough. Emotional eating. Dr. Phil had a guest on his show last month who called it that.

"Here you are." Mom laid a napkin down on the table for her.

"Did you ever come here when you were my age?" There. Change the subject.

"Starbucks?" Mom laughed. "They didn't have anything like Starbucks when I was growing up."

Abby made her silly "duh" face. "I know that. I meant Union Square."

"Sure. This is where Cece always took me shopping. Here or else Market Street. Sometimes my dad joined our Easter shopping trip. It was a big deal because we'd go into the Emporium and watch the baby chicks hatch."

"Chicks hatch?"

"I don't know if they still do it, but they used to have an Easter display with eggs in something like a showcase that hatched into tiny chicks right before our eyes."

"Not real live chicks ..."

"Uh-huh. They were fertile eggs, and it must have been warm like an incubator and-"

"Oh, Mom. Can you imagine what the ASPCA would say about that these days?"

"I don't know. I guess I never thought about it. But how we loved to watch." Mom seemed to sort of drift off. The childhood memories must have been easier than thinking about Dad. "Cece always made me dress up for shopping-gloves and all-and we'd take the bus downtown. We'd stand there in the store and watch the baby chicks for the longest time."

Mom juggled her coffee from hand to hand. She didn't complain about hot coffee in paper cups this time, but Abby had heard the objection enough times to know what Mom was thinking as she finally put the cup on the table to let it cool some.

Abby savored the chocolaty taste of her drink.

Things changed so fast. No one even saw it coining. If she and Mom hadn't moved to San Francisco, she'd be shopping with ]en and Michelle at the Mall of Georgia. School clothes shopping with best friends worked so much better, because they'd drag you all over the place until you found something that worked. Jen would know exactly what to do to camouflage all this weight. She'd drape something or wrap something or help find an accessory that would pull the eyes away from the bulging areas.

"You look like you're miles away," Mom said.

"I guess I was." Twenty-five-hundred miles, to be exact.

"So what were you thinking?"

"About fen and Michelle."

Mom waited for her to go on.

Abby loved her mother. She did not want to make her feel bad. What could she say? Shopping is more fun with girlfriends? That she'd much rather shop at a modern mall than downtown San Francisco?

"I was thinking that if we were shopping at the Mall of Georgia, Jen would bug us to do the bungee-swing thing. We'd finally give in ..."

"You wouldn't," Mom said in that voice as she set her coffee down.

"Not for reals. But we'd get in line as if we were going to until Jen would finally let us off the hook. She was more scared than we were, but she always had to force herself to at least consider doing something daring."

"You really miss them." It was not a question.

Abby nodded. "You miss your friends, don't you?"

"Of course."

Two college-age girls walked in carrying artists' black portfolio cases. They wedged their cases between the window and a chair and walked up to the counter to order. Abby liked the way the larger girl dressed. If she could find a V-neck sweater like that-not too short -it might help smooth over some of the problem areas.

"Abby?"

"Oh, sorry, Mom."

"I know this move and all these changes have been hard on you." She bit the corner of her mouth. "Maybe we should have stayed put ... stayed with our friends, but I couldn't seem to get away from memories no matter how hard I tried."

Abby didn't say anything. It was the same for her, but memories were good and helped her stay close to Dad.

"I thought it would be a good idea to get away-new faces, new places ..."

"But I loved the old places, old faces," Abby said.

Mom pulled the cardboard sleeve off her coffee and opened the lid to take a drink. "I'll confess. I felt battered by sorrow. The thought of coming home to my own mom sounded so good. To eat in her kitchen, to show you my old city ... I don't know ..." Mom ran a hand through her hair.

"Well, I like being with Cece." And she did. When Abby was a baby she couldn't manage to say "grandma," but she heard Dad call her grandmother by name -Elsie. Mom had said it wasn't long until Abby started saying her own version of Elsie-Cece. The name stuck.

"So do I." Mom began tidying the table.

"Are you about ready to go?" Abby asked, slurping the last noisy bit of her mocha through a coffee stirrer.

"Uh-huh." She stuffed the napkins and the cardboard sleeve into her cup. "About all these changes, Abby ... nothing is forever."

"You don't have to tell me that, Mom." Abby made a soft snorting sound as she got up to put their stuff into the trash. "That's the understatement of the year."

Mom nodded her agreement. "But what I meant was that we still have our house in Suwanee, and there's nothing to say we won't end up back there. We can pretend this is an adventure-a new start. Okay?"

An adventure? Abby didn't know how to respond to that. "Let's try one more store." Abby dropped her voice. "See that girl over against the window ... the one in the dark sweater? I'd like to try to find a sweater like that."

Finding a sweater that actually fit was about all the adventure Abby could take at this time. Losing her dad, losing her friends, losing her church, and losing the body shape she was accustomed to was all she could handle right now. Who was she kidding? It was way more than she could handle.

In just a week, school would be starting back home at North Gwinnett High. She wondered who would have her old locker between Jen's and Michelle's. Maybe when she got back to Cece's, her friends would be online and she could chat for a while. The three-hour time difference between California and Georgia made it tough to connect sometimes.

As she walked toward Macy's West beside her mother, Abby knew that she needed to make some real live friends.

* * *

"Mmmm, that smells good." Mom slid into the chair to the right of Cece. "Like something you used to make when I was little."

They always ate in the oak-lined dining room-three places set at the end of a heavy walnut table that could have comfortably seated eight or ten. Cece sat at the head, Mom on the right, Abby on the left. Abby wondered what it had been like after Grandpa died when Cece had eaten alone at the head of the table. How lonely.

But tonight Cece was happy as she finished preparing dinner, talking to Abby's mother the whole time. "It's Tater Tot Casserole. I gave you the recipe, Karen. Remember? I got it when you were in ... was that third grade or fourth grade? Let's see ... you had that teacher who came from Indiana. Remember?"

"It was third grade, Mom."

"That's right. I should have remembered. You had that purple sweater vest you loved." Cece stirred something in the kitchen. Abby could hear the spoon scraping against the metal of the pot. Her grandmother often remembered dates by what grade Mom had been in and what she'd worn.

Cece put a 9 x 12 pan on the table. "Anyway, the PTA came out with a cookbook based on the best-ever potluck recipes. You loved this one-all cheesy."

Mom laughed. "Abby, believe it or not, this is comfort food for me. How I used to love these kinds of dinners."

Abby looked at the dish. She hated it when food got all mixed together. At home in Suwanee, Mom used to laugh when she talked about her mother's cooking style and regale them with funny Cece-cuisine stories. Apparently, when Cece was a young wife-before she and Grandpa had enough money to buy fancy packaged food-Mom remembered that her mother used to make bread from scratch and serve plain vegetables and whatever small portions of meat they could afford.

Abby smiled. There was nothing quite like the advent of TV to ruin good healthy food in those days. In the sixties, as Grandpa began to move up in the family business, Cece finally had money to buy all the advertised-on-TV designer foods. Mom would laugh as she recounted the lineup: Spam, Hamburger Helper, Velveeta Cheese, Bosco, and Cheese Whiz on Hi Ho Crackers. Brand-name cuisine.

Abby laughed every time her mom told the stories. Even the names sounded funny to her. Abby looked at the food on the table. Somehow it didn't seem all that funny now.

Here in Cece's house, Abby had to remember to take out the trash every single night, because it was stuffed to the brim with bulky boxes and packages that took up space. Cece liked nothing better than combining packaged, prepared foods into some kind of concoction with a perky name.

"And for dessert I have that Jell-O you love with the coconut, miniature marshmallows, and Cool Whip."

Mom laughed and bumped Abby's foot under the table. Her laughter sounded good to Abby. Mom had rarely laughed in the last seven months. If it took a weird mishmash of food to make her mom laugh, then let the feast begin.

Abby thought about her jeans fiasco today. She knew this kind of food wasn't helping. Cece's three major food groups seemed to be carbs, fat, and sugar.

Continues...


Excerpted from LESS is MORE by WENDY LAWTON Copyright © 2005 by Wendy Lawton. Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

Read More Show Less

Customer Reviews

Average Rating 5
( 1 )
Rating Distribution

5 Star

(1)

4 Star

(0)

3 Star

(0)

2 Star

(0)

1 Star

(0)

Your Rating:

Your Name: Create a Pen Name or

Barnes & Noble.com Review Rules

Our reader reviews allow you to share your comments on titles you liked, or didn't, with others. By submitting an online review, you are representing to Barnes & Noble.com that all information contained in your review is original and accurate in all respects, and that the submission of such content by you and the posting of such content by Barnes & Noble.com does not and will not violate the rights of any third party. Please follow the rules below to help ensure that your review can be posted.

Reviews by Our Customers Under the Age of 13

We highly value and respect everyone's opinion concerning the titles we offer. However, we cannot allow persons under the age of 13 to have accounts at BN.com or to post customer reviews. Please see our Terms of Use for more details.

What to exclude from your review:

Please do not write about reviews, commentary, or information posted on the product page. If you see any errors in the information on the product page, please send us an email.

Reviews should not contain any of the following:

  • - HTML tags, profanity, obscenities, vulgarities, or comments that defame anyone
  • - Time-sensitive information such as tour dates, signings, lectures, etc.
  • - Single-word reviews. Other people will read your review to discover why you liked or didn't like the title. Be descriptive.
  • - Comments focusing on the author or that may ruin the ending for others
  • - Phone numbers, addresses, URLs
  • - Pricing and availability information or alternative ordering information
  • - Advertisements or commercial solicitation

Reminder:

  • - By submitting a review, you grant to Barnes & Noble.com and its sublicensees the royalty-free, perpetual, irrevocable right and license to use the review in accordance with the Barnes & Noble.com Terms of Use.
  • - Barnes & Noble.com reserves the right not to post any review -- particularly those that do not follow the terms and conditions of these Rules. Barnes & Noble.com also reserves the right to remove any review at any time without notice.
  • - See Terms of Use for other conditions and disclaimers.
Search for Products You'd Like to Recommend

Recommend other products that relate to your review. Just search for them below and share!

Create a Pen Name

Your Pen Name is your unique identity on BN.com. It will appear on the reviews you write and other website activities. Your Pen Name cannot be edited, changed or deleted once submitted.

 
Your Pen Name can be any combination of alphanumeric characters (plus - and _), and must be at least two characters long.

Continue Anonymously
Sort by: Showing 1 Customer Reviews
  • Anonymous

    Posted May 1, 2005

    More Wendy Lawton

    Abby is a wonderful hero because she's just like the rest of us. Her big 'flaw' is she's an emotional eater. She gains some weight after her Dad dies, and she and Mom move across the country to the Bay area. Abby's grandmother, Cece, tries to help by cooking rich homemade meals. Abby puts up with the teasing nickname from a student youth group leader. But, with the help of a teacher and a true friend, she finds the Grace to get through the pain. Great book.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
Sort by: Showing 1 Customer Reviews

If you find inappropriate content, please report it to Barnes & Noble
Why is this product inappropriate?
Comments (optional)