Publisher's Hardcover ©2016 | -- |
Nineteen eighties. Juvenile fiction.
Families. Juvenile fiction.
Friendship. Juvenile fiction.
Nineteen eighties. Fiction.
Families. Fiction.
Friendship. Fiction.
Gr 9 Up-This novel featuring Coy, a quirky ninth grader in Red Rock, AZ, might find wider interest among adults rather than teens. The protagonist's partner in crime has always been Monroe, the irreverent outsider with whom he joined forces at the start of middle school. Roe's goth-emo standoffishness has helped to make the two of them a social island. When Monroe's braces or maybe some allergy to nickel or moldor the world itselfcauses disfiguring redness and peeling all around her mouth, face, and hands, she becomes even more of a pariah, missing enough school that Coy even starts to talk to popular "Trees," people from the top of the social strata, like Avree. He likes feeling a bit less adversarial with his classmates, even while he feels guilty for Monroe's ordeal. To make Coy's life even more complicated, his mother has been in mental health treatment for months, and his stepfather, Dan, does all that he can to fill the parental void. Coy's first-person voice is a combination of a witty, world-weary adult and nervous, quirky teen, making him perhaps more engaging and relatable for readers who can appreciate youth and the perspective that comes from surviving it. His interest in many things from the 1980s will put some references out of the comfortable range of typical teens, but those who share his love for the decade will enjoy his enthusiasm. VERDICT A good fit for young adultsand adultswho identify as misfits and can appreciate a character-driven story. Suzanne Gordon, Lanier High School, Sugar Hill, GA
Starred Review ALA Booklist (Wed Jun 01 00:00:00 CDT 2016)Starred Review Bound together by their outsider spirits and a mutual love of 1980s pop culture, Coy and Monroe are each other's closest confidants as they transition into high school. Then Monroe develops a strange illness, causing her to disappear from Coy's life. Suddenly Coy must fend for himself at school while also contending with his mother, committed to a mental institution, and his lovable but clueless stepfather, who is more "bro" than caretaker. In the midst of turmoil, he finds a lifeline in Avree, a girl from science class who becomes his first girlfriend ough, in Wilder's hands, even their connection is bittersweet. When Monroe returns, Coy's relationship with her ong with his relationship with his family, school, and everything else revocably changes. Wilder powers his classic coming-of-age narrative with a ferocious storytelling voice. Coy and Monroe are misfits who sneer at the popular crowd (aka "the trees") from the margins, using their own insular slang. Wilder especially shines when handling ancillary characters, who often steal scenes. The plot, meanwhile, while hardly bombastic, finds powerful moments of illumination in Coy's day-to-day experiences of love and despair, both of which can be world-shattering when experiencing them for the first time. A humorous, poignant, and formidable debut.
Kirkus ReviewsNinth-grader Coy doesn't feel comfortable in his own skin. Neither does his best friend, Monroe. Drawn together by their shared outsider status and a mutual love of 1980s pop culture, the two white teens help each other through the day-to-day craziness of middle school. Coy's father died years ago, and his mother has been institutionalized for six months, leaving Coy to live somewhat awkwardly with his stepfather. The nickel in Monroe's braces have given her a rash around her mouth, which spreads to become a life-threatening medical condition, throwing narrator Coy for a loop. Coy's insecurities compel him to ridicule others, and it's easy to trip over the slurs that come so easily to him, mostly variations on gay jokes: "It sounded so ghey I wanted to die," "Fifty Shades of Ghey," among dozens. Coy himself is a stereotype of a nerdy white boy who mindlessly disrespects others, from an Asian receptionist ("whatever the hell brand of Chinese or Vulcan she was speaking") to the home-schooled ("They're like the Amish, only even less deodorant"). While the story contains a lot of humor, it comes at a cost, as the hefty amount of teen slang threatens to overwhelm the plot. Still, Coy is a likable narrator who wears his vulnerability on his sleeve for readers to see. A witty, angst-filled drama that succeeds in spite of its flaws. (Fiction. 13-17)
Publishers Weekly (Fri Oct 06 00:00:00 CDT 2023)In this solidly entertaining debut, a teenage outsider juggles his best friend's mysterious illness and his own screwed-up family while navigating typical high school pitfalls. Ninth-grader Coy is used to being on the outskirts of things-his only real friend is the acerbic Monroe, who shares his love for 1980s pop culture. But as Monroe gets progressively sicker, in what turns out to be nickel poisoning, all Coy can do is provide moral support, which doesn't work as well as he'd like. Meanwhile, Coy's mother is in rehab, his stepfather means well but isn't exactly clued in, and-much to his surprise-one of the popular girls at school wants to date him. As he swerves between hope and heartbreak, Coy tries to find meaning in an increasingly confusing world. Wilder skillfully uses humor and a complex blend of emotions to chronicle this tragicomic slice-of-life story. Although the main characters have a tendency to sling insensitive insults around ("What exactly are you learning, lezbo?"), their hearts mostly seem to be in the right place, making for a satisfying, sometimes thought-provoking narrative. Ages 14-up. (Sept.)
Horn Book (Tue Aug 01 00:00:00 CDT 2017)1980s-obsessed misfit Coy struggles to navigate modern-day ninth grade while also dealing with issues at home. His equally quirky best friend, Monroe, helps keep him sane until she comes down with a mysterious skin illness. A healthy dose of humor helps balance out the serious stuff, although the combination of eighties references and mature jokes might make this appeal more to adults than teens.
School Library Journal (Fri Jul 01 00:00:00 CDT 2016)
Starred Review ALA Booklist (Wed Jun 01 00:00:00 CDT 2016)
Kirkus Reviews
Publishers Weekly (Fri Oct 06 00:00:00 CDT 2023)
Horn Book (Tue Aug 01 00:00:00 CDT 2017)
CHAPTER 12
I finally made it back to school on Agua Fria with crazy cars honking at me and tagged signs, Stop (It), Stop (War), Yield (To My Power), Speed Hump (Me). Stupid crap like that. When I reached campus, end of last lunch had just begun. The cafetorium waited empty except for a few kids sitting around trays piled high with milk containers, burrito wrappers, napkins, to-go cups, and a few plastic silverware sculptures. Near the long-ago-bailed-upon concession stand, a student band was playing "Message in a Bottle.” Believe that? I had forgotten that this was the week Pornstache was "trying out” having student entertainment during lunch. He’d made this huge deal at assemblage about how this was just a test (everything at school’s always a test), and if any of the groups used profanity or crude gestures or incited inappropriate conduct, he’d shut it all down. Nothing the school did was ever out of fun or niceness or, as the teachers always say, "The right thing to do.” Everything from the principal or vice came with a warning, strings attached, assessments, surveys, or a series of things that had to occur to make this happen or that happen. Stipulations, I think he called them. Nothing was free or easy or, um, I hate to say it (makes me think of The Outsiders), pure. And what Pornstache never realized was that the more complicated it got, the less people gave a tit.
But "Message in a Bottle?” Bitch, puh-lease. I was drenched with sweat from all that walking, and that’s what greeted me? I bought a microwave burger from the vending machine, nuked it in the nasty hot box. My burger: wet. Me: wet. And these four retro hippie dudes were playing the Worst. Police. Song. Ever. The bass player was a dead ringer for John Lennon, with his greasy curtains of hair and round glasses. The drummer was Hispanic, with lip pubes, and the singer thought he was Billy Idol or something, with bleached hair and sawed-off driving gloves, hopping around like there was an adoring crowd. He didn’t look baked, but the act wasn’t a goof either. Idol scrunched his face up like a balled dishtowel while Lennon looked blankly at the bulletin board with the monthly menu stained with dots of gravy. The drummer pounded his kit, and I thought how out of hundreds of kids, from the wall huggers to the pale-skinned cutters to these retro hippies to the AP ulcer kids, Monroe was my only friend at this entire school, and how if she got really sick, I’d be on my own, and as she would say, I didn’t even know karate.
I met Monroe on the first day of seventh grade. We had about an hour of orientation, and I’d just moved to the district with my mom and Dan. We were on the football field, broken up by elementary-school mascots--Wranglers, Criminals, Sand Devils, Sultans. I was in the "other” category: homeschoolers, transfers, kids from special ed, Montessori, Waldorf, little hippie communes, and last-ditch learning centers. I can’t say we would’ve won any beauty pageants. Have you ever talked to someone who’s been homeschooled for seven years? They’re like the Amish, only even less deodorant. All the other elementaries had developed their own fashion and style. You could spot the handshakes, chest bumping, jump hugs, air kisses, haircuts, sunglasses, cell phones, movie clips, theme songs. Each group had its own microcosm except for us: Zah zah loozahs! I’d been through this kind of shite before, and I knew you just wait it out, wait until classes start. Then everyone funnels through the same maze, rats follow rats into different compartments. I tried to walk away from the field toward Red Rock so I wouldn’t feel so pathetic, and no one from any of the other groups would remember that I was in the tard one. These types of labels stick if you don’t watch out--forever. And with a name like Coy, the meatheads don’t need any more fuel.
So. "Dig the shoes,” someone said behind me. I was wearing this pair of checkered Vans that Dan had given me. I turned. Pre-Monroe, before she was sick. She could have been in a magazine, with her blond hair that flipped up at the ends. Mom said she looked like a punk-rock Mary Tyler Moore or Bettie Page, whoever that is or was. Her black dress had all these white pockets crawling on it, and her black Docs were so polished they gave off mad glare.
Her eyes shot to the ground. "So Breakfast Club cool.”
"Okay.” I wasn’t sure it wasn’t an insult. "You like eighties stuff?”
"Best decade ever,” she said, tapping a finger to her temple. She had drawn elaborate rings on her digits with a Sharpie. She shot my Vans the eye again. "Maybe Fast Times at Ridgemont High.”
"Thanks very little,” I mumbled to be funny.
"You a Waldork?”
"Nope. Too much knitting.”
She scanned me up and down. "Montesorry for you?”
I shoved my hands in my pockets. "Strike two.”
"Homo-schooled?”
"Do I look that way?”
She turned to eyeball a bunch of girls in prairie dresses with wheat-colored hair tied back in thick ponytails, playing patty-cake.
"Just moved here too,” I said, trying to keep the talk going.
"Son,” she said, spitting a bit, "I’ve lived in this asstown my entire life.”
"Why are you over here, then?”
"I was stuck over in that wasteland for seven years, including kindergarten.” She jerked her thumb back to a pack of kids across the field, girls with fake tans, oversize glasses, and "JUICY" written across their buttocks, bobbing their heads and flipping cell phones with one hand. Once every few minutes one would toss her head back and laugh, mouth open like she was trying to catch invisible rain from the sky.
"I finally escaped. Monroe,” she said, nodding.
"Coy.”
Excerpted from Nickel by Robert Wilder
All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.
A BOOKLIST Best Young Adult Book of 2016 and a Top 10 Romance for Youth BEING A TEENAGER is hard enough without your mother in rehab and your slightly inept stepfather doing his best not to screw things up. But at least, Coy has Monroe. Coy is a quirky teenage boy and his best friend Monroe is a girl who is just as odd and funny and obsessed with 80's culture as he is. So when Monroe comes down with a mysterious illness, his inner turmoil only grows. As Monroe gets sicker and Coy gets a girlfriend from another social crowd, the balance tips and Coy has tofigure out how not to give up on his friend, his family, or himself. Nickel is a hilarious, heartbreaking and honest portrayal of the complicated world of being a teenager today. "No one has ever written about the pains of being a teenager-physically and psychologically, inside and out-quite like Robert Wilder in his startling debut novel. He has created indelible characters in Monroe and Coy-funny and sad and strong and broken-and NICKEL is about as real as it gets. -AUGUSTEN BURROUGHS , New York Times best-selling author of Running With Scissors