You Are Not Here

by Samantha Schutz

Overview

A startling novel about love and grief from the author of the acclaimed memoir I Don't Want to Be Crazy.Annaleah and Brian shared something special - Annaleah is sure of it. When they were together, they didn't need anyone else. It didn't matter that their relationship was secret. All that mattered was what they had with each other.And then, out of nowhere, Brian dies. And while everyone else has their role in the grieving process, Annaleah finds herself living outside of it, unacknowledged and lonely. How can you recover from a loss that no one will let you have?

Product Details

ISBN-13:	9780545328814
Publisher:	Scholastic, Inc.
Publication date:	10/01/2010
Sold by:	Scholastic, Inc.
Format:	eBook
Pages:	304
File size:	455 KB
Age Range:	14 - 18 Years

About the Author

Samantha Schutz is the author of the acclaimed memoir I Don't Want to Be Crazy, which was a New York Public Library Best Book for Teens and a Voices of Youth Advocates Poetry Pick. You Are Not Here was her first novel. Samantha lives and works in New York City as a children's book editor.

Editorial Reviews

Praise for You Are Not Here:

"The death of someone you love will define you in ways small and large. It can defeat you. Or deliver you. You Are Not Here is a story about ultimate deliverance, and one you'll not soon forget." - Ellen Hopkins

"These refreshingly spare lines tackle tough relational issues–intimacy, risk, abandonment–with aplomb, making for a moving tale that also effectively shows teens how life can go on." - Kirkus

From the Publisher

"Death is a period / at the end of a sentence," concludes Annaleah, the 16-year-old protagonist of Schutz's captivating fictional follow-up to her verse memoir (I Don't Want To Be Crazy, 2006). And much like the resolute finality fixed in that tiny dot, Annaleah spends a great deal of this free-verse novel stuck contemplating the harsh reality that her sometime boyfriend, Brian—a seemingly healthy, dark-haired, cloudy-blue–eyed 17-year-old—has just dropped dead on the basketball court. Reeling from both physical loss and lack of closure to the meaning of their clandestine relationship, Annaleah finds herself routinely visiting and addressing the deceased Brian, until a chance graveside encounter yields advice that finally begins to hit home: "Nothing grows here," says Brian's grandmother, "besides grass." At first blush appearing to pull out all the melodramatic stops in classic teen fashion, these refreshingly spare lines tackle tough relational issues—intimacy, risk, abandonment—with aplomb, making for a moving tale that also effectively shows teens how life can go on. (Fiction/poetry. 14 & up)

Kirkus Reviews