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Rapture Practice

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Sometimes salvation is found in the strangest places: a true story.

Aaron Hartzler grew up in a home where he was taught that at any moment the Rapture could happen. That Jesus might come down in the twinkling of an eye and scoop Aaron and his family up to heaven. As a kid, Aaron was thrilled by the idea that every moment of every day might be his last one on planet Earth.

But as Aaron turns sixteen, he finds himself more attached to his ...

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Rapture Practice

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Sometimes salvation is found in the strangest places: a true story.

Aaron Hartzler grew up in a home where he was taught that at any moment the Rapture could happen. That Jesus might come down in the twinkling of an eye and scoop Aaron and his family up to heaven. As a kid, Aaron was thrilled by the idea that every moment of every day might be his last one on planet Earth.

But as Aaron turns sixteen, he finds himself more attached to his earthly life and curious about all the things his family forsakes for the Lord. He begins to realize he doesn't want the Rapture to happen just yet—not before he sees his first movie, stars in the school play, or has his first kiss. Eventually Aaron makes the plunge from conflicted do-gooder to full-fledged teen rebel.

Whether he's sneaking out, making out, or playing hymns with a hangover, Aaron learns a few lessons that can't be found in the Bible. He discovers that the best friends aren't always the ones your mom and dad approve of, and the tricky part about believing is that no one can do it for you.

In this funny and heartfelt coming-of-age memoir, debut author Aaron Hartzler recalls his teenage journey to find the person he is without losing the family that loves him. It's a story about losing your faith and finding your place and your own truth—which is always stranger than fiction.

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Editorial Reviews

The New York Times Book Review - Jeff Chu
Despite Aaron's repetitive rebellion, cover-up attempts and exposure, Rapture Practice is often effervescent and moving, evocative and tender. Aaron's as-yet-inexplicable romantic feelings are described in a particularly affecting, authentically adolescent way.
Publishers Weekly
Hartzler makes his debut with this accessible memoir about coming of age in a very strict Christian family. Aaron, the oldest of four children, has always been a stellar son, following his parents' edicts to the letter—no television, secular music, or movies—even when he doesn't fully understand them. He's also a joyful soldier of the Lord, happy to help his mother lead their neighborhood Good News Club, or lend accompaniment to his preacher father at church services. But when Aaron turns 16, his natural desire to explore the larger world outside his faith, including listening to pop music, dating and experiencing sexual attraction, and experimenting with alcohol, is perceived as rebellion, stirring up big trouble at home and at his ultra-conservative Christian school. Many readers may find the circumstances of Aaron's sheltered upbringing hard to believe. What rings very true, however, is the author's thoughtful search for answers to his heart's biggest questions, and his pragmatism and sense of humor on the journey. Ages 15-up. Agent: Michael Bourret, Dystel & Goderich Literary Management. (Apr.)
Ellen Hopkins

"Rapture Practice opened my eyes--and my mind--to a segment of society I've never quite understood. Wherever you weigh in on the religion scale, this book will speak to you."
Holly Goldberg Sloan

"Rapture Practice is breathtaking. Aaron Hartzler has the lightest touch when it comes to telling his story. His writing is heartfelt and earnest, while at the same time funny and courageous. I'm in love with this book."
Melissa de la Cruz

"Aaron's Hartzler's Rapture Practice is a sad, wise, funny and life-affirming story of coming of age and finding the courage to be who you are while still remaining true to your family. I was incredibly moved to tears and laughter by this memoir and urge all teenagers to read it, especially those struggling with faith and identity themselves."
Laura McNeal

"This book is a miracle...Aaron Harztler sees that asking others to love you for what you are means loving them for what they are and that, furthermore, they may be as powerless as you are to change...An achingly innocent and sweetly funny book about guilt, rebellion, love, and acceptance."
John Corey Whaley
"I think the best stories are the ones about the absurdity and beauty of growing up--and Aaron Hartzler's Rapture Practice is one whose humor, honesty, and heart make universal even the most unique situations. This is a story about faith that gives you just that--faith in humanity, in family, and in yourself."
Maria Semple

"With a sure hand and fearless gaze, Aaron Hartzler takes aim at life's biggies--God, sex, family, and rock 'n' roll. Whether you're laughing, gasping, or crying and at times I was doing all three, you'll always be in awe of Hartzler's openhearted and clearheaded treatment of his extraordinary life."
Jay Asher

"Rapture Practice is inspiring, hilarious, frustrating, and beautiful. Thank you, Aaron Hartzler, for enriching my life by allowing me to experience important moments in yours."
Shelf Awareness

"Aaron Hartzler's memoir will captivate teens looking for a solid coming-of-age story grounded in strange truths about growing up in a religious family...Hartzler's ear for teenage dialogue is spot-on..."
"Hartzler writes with a keen eye for detail... he is equally sure-footed describing his inner turmoil... One of the best things, however, is how lovingly Hartzler portrays his parents, even as they anger him... Readers will hope for a sequel."
From the Publisher
"With a sure hand and fearless gaze, Aaron Hartzler takes aim at life's biggies—God, sex, family, and rock 'n' roll. Whether you're laughing, gasping, or crying (and at times I was doing all three), you'll always be in awe of Hartzler's openhearted and clearheaded treatment of his extraordinary life. Rapture Practice is a triumph."—
Maria Semple, author of
Where'd You Go, Bernadette

"Rapture Practice is inspiring, hilarious, frustrating, and beautiful. Thank you, Aaron Hartzler, for enriching my life by allowing me to experience important moments in yours."—
Jay Asher, author of #1
New York Times
bestseller Thirteen Reasons Why

The Bulletin of the Center for Children's Books
"This heartfelt memoir [and] compelling story...will speak volumes to adolescents."
VOYA - KaaVonia Hinton
Aaron Hartzler heard the word "no" often while growing up one of four children of a Bible college teacher and a Bible club host for neighborhood youth in Kansas City. No movies. No secular music. No GQ magazines. In fact, Aaron was not allowed to engage in anything that might interfere with his relationship with God, except acting. A knack for acting is a skill he uses on and off stage. While attempting to be the devout Christian his parents expect, Aaron has to pretend he is not hiding a stash of Wilson Phillips, Aaron Neville, and Bette Midler cassettes under the seat of his Tercel or having a bromance with a classmate who has unmarried parents who invite him to engage in underage drinking. The rapture, a belief that at any moment Jesus will take Christians to heaven, becomes a metaphor for Aaron's dual existence. It adds tension and suspense to the book. At any moment, Aaron (and the reader) knows he can be caught up in deceit and be judged, thus ending life as he knows it with his family. Though the subject—one's faith in God—is serious, it is presented in a humorous and entertaining manner. Teenagers growing up in strict religious homes and/or those beginning to question religious principles will relate to this book. Reviewer: KaaVonia Hinton
Children's Literature - Veronica Bartles
In this coming-of-age memoir, Hartzler explores the realities of growing up in a strict Christian home, where the one constant was a knowledge that the Rapture could happen at any moment. Hartzler and his siblings lived each day sure in the knowledge that Jesus could come back at any moment. But while his parents and siblings took comfort in this knowledge, Hartzler questioned the doctrines taught by his minister father from a very young age. By the time he was in high school, he felt like he had to lie to his parents at every turn, to "protect" them from the person he was not supposed to be. Young readers who feel oppressed by societal expectations will find comfort in this narrative, realizing that they are not alone in their feelings. However, Hartzler's account of his struggles to feel accepted in a world of zero tolerance loses some of its power when seen in light of his own intolerance of Christianity. Those who do not already agree with his view of the world might feel more personally attacked than sympathetic to his situation. Reviewer: Veronica Bartles
Kirkus Reviews
An eye-opening, autobiographical account of growing up waiting for the rapture. Since birth, Hartzler has been taught that any day, Jesus could scoop his family off to heaven. To prepare, his mom leads his youth group in a song called "Countdown," in which they sing "BLASTOFF!" at the tops of their lungs and jump as if they're being taken into the sky. Religion shapes every aspect of Hartzler's life, but love is also at the heart of his work. That's what's at stake when he starts making left turns in both his activities and his belief system in high school. He sneaks to movies his parents would never approve of, illicitly listens to popular music, and plans wild, drunken parties. He has his first kiss, and eventually he begins to think that he might like boys (but that's not the main point). His story emphasizes discovery more than rebellion, and the narrative is carefully constructed to show and not judge the beliefs of his family and their community. That said, he's constantly under close surveillance, and readers will wince in sympathy as they experience his punishments for what they might deem trivial actions. Hartzler's laugh-out-loud stylings range from the subtle to the ridiculous (his grandmother on wearing lipstick: "I need just a touch, so folks won't think we're Pentecostal"). A hilarious first-of-its-kind story that will surely inspire more. (Memoir. 14 & up)
School Library Journal
Gr 9 Up—Hartzler grew up in an Evangelical Christian home, where he was taught that the Rapture might happen any minute. As he grew into his teen years, he began to question this belief and to be drawn to more worldly things-movies, rock music, plays, literature, and kissing. To a secular audience, Hartzler's parents' rules about whom he can befriend and how he can live his life may come across as draconian, but the author is open and fair about how they lived their beliefs and how they always loved him, even as their rules drove him away. Hartzler is honest about his sexual encounters with girls (and boys) and about underage drinking that happened at parties he attended. His memoir is appealing because of his honesty, and forthrightness. When writing about Evangelical Christians, he never takes on a condescending tone. He shows where his own questions led him, even as he shows how his parents saw things very differently than he did. His style is clear and lively, and he makes readers see how the questioning of his faith began, and how it grew. Readers will want to spend time with Hartzler to find out how he became true to himself and what choices he made on that journey.—Geri Diorio, Ridgefield Library, CT
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Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9780316094658
  • Publisher: Little, Brown Books for Young Readers
  • Publication date: 4/9/2013
  • Pages: 390
  • Sales rank: 721,600
  • Age range: 14 - 17 Years
  • Lexile: 850L (what's this?)
  • Product dimensions: 5.90 (w) x 8.30 (h) x 1.32 (d)

Meet the Author

Aaron Hartzler

Aaron Hartzler grew up in Kansas City, mainly on the Missouri side. A writer and an actor, he splits his time between Los Angeles and Palm Springs, where he lives with his boyfriend, Nathan, and their two dogs, Charlie and Brahms. Rapture Practice is his first book. Aaron invites you to visit him online at

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Read an Excerpt

Rapture Practice

By Aaron Hartzler

Little, Brown Books for Young Readers

Copyright © 2013 Aaron Hartzler
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-0-316-09465-8


I am four years old, and Dad is teaching me to play dead.

"Remember, when I pick you up, you have to stay limp like a rag doll," he says. "If you swing your arms or kick your legs onstage, the audience will know you're alive."

Dad is directing a play at the Bible college where he teaches. He has cast me in the role of a little boy who gets struck and killed by a Roman chariot while running across the street to meet Jesus. The chariot wreck happens offstage. Dad explained it would cost too much money to have a horse gallop across the stage pulling a chariot, which was disappointing; however, I do get carried on dead, which I find very exciting. This excitement makes it challenging to keep still.

Tonight, we practiced my seventeen lines at the dining room table, then moved into the living room to work on being dead. I lie down on the couch, close my eyes, and feel Dad's arms slide under me. Slowly, he lifts me into the air. I concentrate on letting my limbs dangle loosely while Dad walks around the living room.

"Great, Aaron!" he says. "You're really getting it. Now, keep your eyes closed, but don't frown."

I've been thinking so hard about not kicking my legs I've scrunched up my forehead. When he mentions it, I can feel the tension between my eyes. Slowly, I let my face relax.

"That's it!" Dad says. I can tell he's pleased. It makes me want to smile, but I don't move a muscle because I'm dead. Dad walks around the living room one more time, then gently lays me back down on the couch. When I open my eyes, he is grinning at me.

"Good job, son!"

Rehearsing for the play is the most fun Dad and I have ever had together. He is very encouraging and has a lot of great tips on how to look as authentically dead as possible.

In the weeks before opening night, Mom sews me two identical pale green linen tunics with dark green satin trim. She distresses one of them with scissors and a cheese grater, then smears it with dirt and red paint so it appears to have been worn by a small boy who met an untimely demise beneath pointy hooves and chariot wheels.

Finally, the big day arrives, and when I come offstage from my last scene before the chariot wreck, Mom and one of the girls in the play cover me in dirt and wounds made of lipstick and greasepaint. Once they are done roughing me up, I stop to take a good look at myself in the mirror. My eyes are blackened, and blood appears to be seeping out of my hairline, spilling from gashes on my arms and legs and dripping through the tattered tunic. The effect is startling.

I make a mental note against death by chariot.

The student who carries me on "dead" is very strong, and I can feel his biceps bulge under my shoulder blades when he picks me up. I remind myself not to smile, and completely relax in his arms.

My eyes are closed, but I feel the heat of the bright lights on my face when he steps through the curtain onto the stage, and I can hear people in the audience gasp. I love the sound of that gasp. It means what I am doing is working.

After the curtain call, Dad assures me I was very convincing as a little dead boy. Grandma confirms this by running up and clutching me wildly to her bosom.

"That was terrible!" she tells Dad. "I never want to see Aaron dead again."

On the way home, I can smell the red greasepaint still caked in my hair as Dad tells me what a good job I did. "Aaron, your facial expressions and vocal inflections were excellent," he says, beaming. "Jesus is coming back very soon, and there are so many people who need to be saved. Folks who won't go to church will come to see a play. We are using quality biblical drama to reach lost souls for Christ."

Acting is an amazing gift Dad has given me. It allows me to be close to him in a whole new way—like I'm his partner. It makes us a team. Even better, my acting pleases Jesus, too. What I am doing onstage is not only good, it's important.

When we get home, Mom hustles me into a steamy bath and shampoos the greasepaint out of my hair. The warm water turns dark crimson and leaves a ring around the white tub. Mom gives me one last rinse under the showerhead to wash away the makeup, then wraps me up in a thirsty towel. I smile as I watch the bloodred suds circle the drain.

I can't wait to play dead again tomorrow night.


"Boys and girls, I am so excited that you could make it to Good News Club today!"

I am six years old, and this is how Mom gets the ball rolling at the Bible club she hosts in our family room every Thursday after school. She is pretty and petite, and her light Southern accent wraps pure love around the words "boys and girls," like butter dripping off a crescent roll at Thanksgiving dinner. Kids from all over the neighborhood flock to our front door for a taste of that warmth. We may be the only house in Kansas City that doesn't have a television set, but we've got something better: my mom. Once everyone is settled on the couch or the carpet, she bathes us all in her billion-watt smile and kicks things off with a question:

"Who can tell Miss Belinda what the Good News is?"

Hands fly up all around the room with shouts and moans of enthusiasm. My friend Krista waves like a flag in a hurricane, trying to get her hand higher than her brother's. A homeschooled boy who lives down the block bounces up and down in his seat, shouting out answers over the noise. Mom spreads her hands wide and calls for silence.

"Oooooh! Boys and girls. I forgot, I did! I forgot to tell y'all a secret!"

A hush falls over the family room. Everyone leans forward. What could the secret be?

"Miss Belinda has funny ears. When I ask a question, I can only hear you if you raise your hand and then sit very still until I call on you." Mom clasps her hands across the skirt of her denim jumper and waits. I love watching her in action each week. She's a pro at crowd control, and always happiest when she's teaching a group of children about Jesus. Her face lights up like she's about to offer you the most incredible gift you have ever received, and if you asked her, she'd tell you that's exactly what she's doing. It's a gift anyone can have, free for the taking:

Eternal life.

"Now. Let's try this again," Mom says. "Boys and girls! Who can tell Miss Belinda what the Good News is?"

Hands shoot up from ramrod-stiff arms. Everyone is silent, but the tension of limbs straining toward the ceiling threatens to pop shoulders from sockets. Mom's eyes twinkle, wide with amazement. She makes a show of seeking out the quietest, most earnest would-be answer-giver, but I have a hunch she's already chosen someone.

"Oh ... my. Yes! Boys and girls! You are making this a very difficult decisi—Randy!"

Mom calls on one of the unchurched children in our midst. Randy's drug-addled mother ran off shortly after his birth, leaving him with his aging grandparents on the next block over. One wall of his bedroom is lined with shelves filled floor to ceiling with He-Man action figures. There is something truly intriguing to me about the rippled plastic stomachs and fur-trimmed bikini briefs of the men who inhabit the Castle Grayskull. I often ask if I can go visit Randy, but Mom is firm.

"Aaron, honey, it doesn't please the savior to play with little plastic men who look like demons." She smiles and squeezes my shoulder. "Besides, sugar, Jesus is the Master of the Universe."

Randy doesn't know very much about the Bible. In response to simple questions like "What is the Good News?," he often waxes on at length about characters from Greek mythology. However, in the spirit of ongoing outreach to this poor, lost boy, Mom continues to call on him each week and ignore his answers about Atlas and Cronus.

"You see, Randy," Mom says, "those tales about Zeus are only made-up stories, but Jesus is real. He was an actual person who walked on earth just two thousand years ago, and the Bible, God's holy word, tells us the Good News is that Jesus died on the cross for our sins, rose again, and is coming back very soon to take everyone who believes in him up to heaven."

Each week, Mom patiently explains the Good News, and each week Randy nods and smiles with a quizzical look that says it all: He doesn't understand how the stories he knows are different from the ones Mom tells him.

"We'll talk about that more in a minute." Mom smiles. "Right now, we're gonna get things started off with a song."

In a way, I understand Randy's confusion—I don't know who Atlas is just like he doesn't know who Jesus is—but the songs we sing at Good News Club help explain the plan of salvation. Sometimes, the Gospel message can be more easily understood when set to a catchy tune.

The illustrated song Mom chooses from her stack of visual aids is my favorite. It's called "Countdown!" Rendered in bright shades of purple and red, the front cover is emblazoned with a picture of the Apollo spacecraft hurtling toward the moon. She asks for a volunteer to help her turn the pages so everyone can see the words. Once more, hands are held high and waved with excitement. It isn't so much about holding the song—it's being chosen that feels good. Mom picks Krista, then calls me up to the front as well.

"Aaron is going to help us sing, too, because there is a very special ending to this song, and we'd like to show y'all what it is."

The anticipation in the air is electric. As I take my place up front next to Mom, she winks at me. "Ready?"

I smile back, and Mom gives a quick nod as the signal to begin.

The tune is peppy and joyous, all about how Jesus has gone to outer space to prepare heaven for every Christian who has trusted him as savior. We sing at the top of our lungs about being ready for Jesus to come back, and watching the clouds for his return, and we count backward during the chorus: "Ten! Nine! Eight! Seven! Six! Five! Four! Three! Two! One ..."

As we repeat the final line of the song, our voices get softer and softer, and I show the other kids how to crouch closer and closer to the carpet. By the end, we are almost whispering: "The countdown's getting lower every day...." Then there's a tense moment of silence before we yell "BLASTOFF!" and spring from the floor, hurling ourselves into the air as high as we can.

In this moment, as I fly toward the bumpy popcorn texture of the family room ceiling, the excitement swells in my chest. I love this song so much—not only because we get to jump at the end but also because it explains the way my family lives.

This song reminds me why we don't have a TV, or go to movies, or listen to rock music; why Mom never wears pants—only skirts and dresses. It's all because Jesus is coming back, and each of these things is another way we can be different from the world around us. When unsaved people see that our family is different, they will want to know why, and we'll have the perfect opportunity to share the Good News.

I've already trusted Jesus to be my personal Lord and savior. The day I prayed and asked Jesus to come into my heart I was born again. Now I don't have to worry about being left behind when Jesus comes back to take all the Christians to heaven. I can't wait to be caught up in the twinkling of an eye to meet the Lord in the air.

As I fly toward the ceiling in Good News Club, I am grinning so hard my cheeks hurt. I can't help but smile. I have been chosen by God to help spread the Good News, and it feels good to be chosen. Our whole family is on God's team, helping to rescue souls from an eternity in hell. We are headed to heaven, and no movie, TV show, or Top 40 hit could ever compare to the things God has planned for us there. It's my job to tell as many people about Jesus as I can. Helping Mom with Good News Club is one of the ways I can do that.

Each time I sing "Countdown!" I get goose bumps. What if Jesus came back right as I yelled "BLASTOFF!" and jumped up in the air? I bet I'd keep right on going! I'd zip through the ceiling, and the living room above us, then shoot out the roof to meet Jesus in the clouds!

Today, that doesn't happen. As my sneakers land on the carpet again, I look around and see all my friends laughing and grinning. Mom squeezes my shoulder and whispers "Thank you!" for my help leading the song. She smiles at me as I take a seat on the floor, next to Randy. I'm not the slightest bit disappointed I didn't get whisked away to heaven this time. Whether it happens today, or tomorrow, or a year from now, I know one thing for certain: Jesus is coming back, and I'm ready whenever he is.

In the meantime, Good News Club is excellent practice.


The Memphis skyline looms above Interstate 40, just across the Mississippi River, which meanders past my window, a wide, wet border between Arkansas and Tennessee. As Dad guides our station wagon onto the Hernando de Soto Bridge, we start the countdown:











We all cheer as the car passes under the big sign in the middle of the bridge that reads TENNESSEE: THE VOLUNTEER STATE WELCOMES YOU, and then Mom leads us in a chorus of the hymn we sing at church as the ushers walk down the aisle to start passing the collection plates:

Praise God from whom all blessings flow
Praise Him all creatures here below
Praise Him above ye heavenly hosts
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost

The nine-hour drive from Kansas City to Memphis is a long haul, but worth it. As we drive past the buildings downtown, I know we're only twenty minutes away from Nanny and Papa's house, where the TV is always on and there's sugar-sweetened cereal in the pantry.

Nanny comes out on the porch when she sees the station wagon pull into the carport. There are hugs and kisses, and a twinkle in her eye.

"I declare, children. I went to the A&P to get groceries, but I didn't know which cereal y'all liked, so you'll have to come back with me to pick it out." I cheer along with Josh and Miriam as Nanny takes our new baby brother, Caleb, from Mom, and Dad drags duffel bags and suitcases into the house.

When we get to the grocery store, most of the employees know Nanny by name. They greet her as we walk through the door.

"Hey, Miz Davis."

"Hey, y'all." Nanny smiles and wheels a cart past the checkout lanes. "These are my grandchildren from Kansas City. We're headed down the cereal aisle to go toy shopping."

Mom doesn't buy sweetened cereal at home. "You can concentrate better at school if your blood sugar doesn't crash midway through the morning," she tells me. The Cheerios and Wheaties on our breakfast table never have special prizes in the box, but at Nanny's house Mom makes an exception, and the milk in our bowls turns brown with chocolate or pink with food coloring. "Every now and then won't hurt," she says, smiling.

Each of us gets to choose a box of any kind of cereal we want. The Apple Jacks have a rubber stamp set that comes with every letter of the alphabet and an ink pad, so that's what I pick—I'm seven now, and know how to spell better than Miriam or Josh. When we get home, Nanny pours it all out in a big Tupperware container so I don't have to wait for breakfast to play with the prize, and I set to work hand stamping a copy of the Bible verse she has pasted on the refrigerator door: Ephesians 5:18: "Be filled with the spirit."

The next morning at breakfast, I fill up on a bowl of buttery grits with salt and pepper while Nanny makes eggs, biscuits, and gravy for Papa, Mom, and Dad. Grits are my favorite, but I finish them fast so I can move on to Apple Jacks. Mom smiles and nods at my empty bowl, then Nanny rinses it out and fills it with cereal. The crispy coating on the bright orange loops scrapes the roof of my mouth. The taste is so sweet it's like having dessert for breakfast.

Nanny kisses the top of my head as I crunch, then sits down at the table with a cup of fresh coffee. Her lipstick leaves a red smudge on the rim of her mug. She doesn't wear any other makeup on a daily basis, so the lipstick is important. "I need just a touch," she says, "so folks won't think we're Pentecostal."

Nanny winks at me and squeezes my hand. "Your uncle Bill is bringing Sadie over later." Sadie's my favorite cousin, but we only get to see each other a couple times a year—usually over Christmas and during the summer. "Last week Sadie had this little brown stuffed animal with her," Nanny says. "It was a doll of that E.T. fella from the new alien movie."

Excerpted from Rapture Practice by Aaron Hartzler. Copyright © 2013 Aaron Hartzler. Excerpted by permission of Little, Brown Books for Young Readers.
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.

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Customer Reviews

Average Rating 4.5
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Sort by: Showing all of 5 Customer Reviews
  • Anonymous

    Posted April 24, 2013


    Beautifully crafted with a very dynamic protaganist. He asks questions that many people have asked themselves and others they havent even thought of. Only bummer about this book is how early in the character's life the book ends (right after high school).

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted May 28, 2014

    Nice book.

    Its a nice book though. You could get some from the library, or get the sample or the full story.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted July 29, 2013

    I can't say enough good things about this memoir. This one's f

    I can't say enough good things about this memoir. This one's full of heart and humor. Aaron tells the story of his not always easy youth in a way that makes you wish that you could reach back through time and give his teenage self a hug. Actions that in most other families wouldn't have been considered remotely inappropriate earn Aaron harsh punishments from his strict parents, but even through these injustices, Aaron stays positive. It is with a refreshing candor and a remarkably upbeat attitude that he describes his younger years in a book that will be enjoyed by teen and adult readers, alike

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  • Anonymous

    Posted May 10, 2013

    Hated it. Don't waste your time.

    I consider this book a lot to do about nothing. I bought it in hopes that it would actually be something about the Rapture. But unfortunately it isn't. It's about Aaron's rebellious life style which, according to the last paragrah, is going on yet today.

    0 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted April 9, 2013

    No text was provided for this review.

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