Perma-Bound Edition ©2011 | -- |
Rape. Fiction.
Photography. Fiction.
Guilt. Fiction.
Best friends. Fiction.
Friendship. Fiction.
High schools. Fiction.
Schools. Fiction.
Gr 9 Up-At first, Exposed reads like many other realistic novels-in-verse. A teen with slightly clich&3;d phrasings effuses about her lifelong best friend, school, dreams for the future, and boyfriend. When Liz and Kate have a tiff during their oh-so-cute monthly sleepover, it seems as if a predictable narrative is about to unfold. Liz, an aspiring photographer in a solid relationship, cannot understand why Kate, a dancer, doesn't plan to pursue her art professionally and why she stays in a one-sided relationship. In the days following the argument, Kate ignores Liz as if she's a stranger. Soon, however, readers learn of a darker plot twist that caused what may have at first appeared to be the beginning of a childish spat. When it turns out that Liz's brother, home from college, raped Kate as she slept downstairs after their fight, Liz's entire world starts to unravel. Nothing that happens after this realization feels contrived; it's just devastating. There are no neatly folded edges. The narrative largely zooms in on Liz's pain and her struggle to ground herself in her photography and gain admission to art school as events swirl around her. As a result of tethering the narrative to Liz's perspective, the ongoing discussion of Kate's rape and ensuing trial are not heavy-handed or gratuitous. In Liz, Marcus has created a sympathetic lead. A worthy addition to any collection. Jill Heritage Maza, Greenwich High School, CT
Kirkus ReviewsIn accessibly poetic free verse, a Cape Cod teen haltingly relates how her brother's violent act changes things. Liz's artistic photos feature her "forever-best friend" Kate, a dancer. They share childhood history and fond nicknames; Kate is Lizzie's emotional core. At a sleepover, they quarrel: Liz insists Kate major in dance in college, insults Kate's boyfriend and storms upstairs. Later that night, Liz's brother finds Kate alone downstairs and rapes her. Although Mike claims it was "just sex," this isn't a who's-telling-the-truth poser—not quite. Liz eventually believes Kate, but she can't offer much to Kate verbally, and Kate can't bear to see her anyway. Liz is frozen, stung by family upheaval and the loss of Kate, which "eats away at me / like a dirty old gull / picking at fresh prey." Liz never places Kate's trauma ahead of her own, which feels as realistically distressing as the ending's lack of reconciliation and the lives capsized by an unrepentant sibling. Well-honed. (Fiction. 14 & up)Â
Liz and Kate are forever-best friends preparing for the next chapter: college. There's no doubting Liz's major otography t she is frustrated with Kate's refusal to pursue her dream of dancing. It's partly this disagreement that leads to a fight during their monthly sleepover, after which Kate refuses to speak to Liz. Soon the secret of that night comes out: Kate was raped by Liz's brother. At least that's what she says z's brother's denial sounds just as credible. Marcus, a writer without a melodramatic bone in her body, handles the plot with utmost naturalism: once spoken, the accusation splinters alliances among Liz's friends and family, and the courtroom conclusion is wonderfully devoid of theatrics. The novel is written in free-verse poetry (My mother has pinned / all her hopes on me. / And I can't pull out / the pins), though it's unclear why, other than that the book would struggle to reach novel length using standard paragraphs. The upside is that it reads in a single sitting and whets the appetite for whatever Marcus does next.
Publishers Weekly (Fri Oct 06 00:00:00 CDT 2023)This provocative first novel, told in free-verse poems, offers a nuanced view of the ramifications of a rape, as seen through the eyes of 16-year-old Liz, an avid photographer. Marcus captures Liz's divided allegiances between the accused%E2%80%94her brother, a college student with whom Liz has an ambivalent but loving relationship%E2%80%94and her best friend, Kate, the victim (""My brother is a track star./ My brother is a partier.... My brother/ is not/ a rapist""). The stages of grief are well developed, as Liz negotiates the social consequences of the alleged rape, the loss of Kate as a friend, and her guilt for leaving Kate alone after a fight at a sleepover. In one poem, ""Distraction,"" Liz claims to accept the loss, but says, ""And except for a few times/ every few minutes,/ I hardly think about Kate/ at all."" Liz's relationships with her parents and peers offer poignant moments, such as when she lies to protect her mother from the rumors she hears at school. Marcus presents a thought-provoking portrait of rape and its irreparable impact on victim and community. Ages 14%E2%80%93up. (Feb.)
Horn Book (Mon Aug 01 00:00:00 CDT 2011)Liz can't figure out why her "forever-best friend" Kate is avoiding her. Slowly and skillfully, through prose poems, Kate's secret is revealed: Liz's brother raped her. When Liz confronts him, he denies it. Who is she to believe? By giving Liz a voice that's expressive yet down-to-earth, Marcus keeps the drama from skittering into Lifetime TV territory and avoids a quick-fix ending.
School Library Journal (Fri Apr 01 00:00:00 CDT 2011)
ILA Young Adults' Award
Kirkus Reviews
ALA/YALSA Best Book For Young Adults
ALA Booklist (Tue Feb 01 00:00:00 CST 2011)
Wilson's High School Catalog
Publishers Weekly (Fri Oct 06 00:00:00 CDT 2023)
Bulletin of the Center for Children's Books
Horn Book (Mon Aug 01 00:00:00 CDT 2011)
ALA/YALSA Quick Picks for Reluctant Young Adult Readers
Darkroom Photography, First Period
I am the first one here.
Viewing negatives on the light table,
I find one and itch
to open the chamber
that leads to the darkroom.
Soon, others stroll in:
Javier, the Hoopster.
Nathan, the Nuisance.
Brenda, star of The Brenda Show.
The bell rings as Mrs. Pratt
breezes through the door,
clapping her hands
to get everyone’s attention.
Everyone’s attention,
I should say,
but mine.
Because nobody needs to tell
Elizabeth Grayson,
Photogirl,
to focus.
Bringing to Light
I slip the photo paper
into the developing solution,
sway it around with black plastic tongs
and wait.
The hum of air from the overhead vent,
the swish of chemicals,
and the sucking in of my breath
are the only sounds shifting
in the dim light of the darkroom.
I’m alone
but not for long.
As white turns to gray,
Kate is with me.
The background of the dance studio blurred
so the focus is all on her—
legs extended in a perfect, soaring split.
The straight line to my squiggle,
my forever-best friend.
In the Hallway, After Last Bell
“Boo!”
The word bursts from my mouth
at the same moment my fingers poke
into each side of her from behind,
and Kate’s books drop with a thud.
She whips around in an attempt
to elbow her attacker,
but I’m prepared and jump back
out of her way.
“Liz!” she yelps , then laughs,
waving her hands at my face,
before we reach to re-gather her books
around and between Friday’s fleeing feet.
“Just trying to keep you on your toes,” I say,
touching her shoulder until it relaxes,
until she gives me a forgiving grin.
“I’m on my toes enough,” she says,
and I can’t help but smile
at this pointed comeback
from the Mistress of Modern Dance.
“I developed a shot of you dancing today.”
Kate shakes her head.
“I can’t believe I let you take
pictures of me sweating.”
But I tell her my begging paid off,
that this shot is going in my portfolio.
She zips her books
into the safety of her backpack,
scrunches her forehead,
and says I may want to rethink that—
that she would hate for her ugly self
to be the reason I don’t get into art school.
I take in her perfect, china-doll complexion,
look straight into her blue-green eyes,
and tell her, “Art schools now require
applicants to submit photos
of the ugliest person they can find.
So you don’t have a thing
to worry about.”
Friday Night at Salvatore’s
We’re at our favorite cheesy pizza place:
plastic-coated, red-checkered tablecloths,
Leaning Tower painted on one wall,
a vineyard, maybe Tuscany, on another.
Sal, behind the counter,
white mustache curled in handlebars,
huge belly threatening to burst
through his grease-splattered apron,
singing along to piped-in Italian music.
A walking cliché.
Amanda piles on
Parmesan cheese and hot-pepper flakes.
Dee Dee blots off extra oil with her napkin.
Kate uses a fork and knife
to cut her slice into bite-sized pieces.
By the time my three friends
are finished preparing their meals,
I’m ready for dessert.
“What time should I come by tomorrow?”
Kate asks as we leave.
“I’m staying on the Vineyard
for a few hours after work,” I tell her.
“How about seven?”
“Sounds good,” she says,
closing the door
on Sal’s serenade.
Work
Most of the kids who work
for the Martha’s Vineyard Ferry Service,
in the parking lots, at the ticket booth,
or in the concession stands
on the boats, like me,
work during the high season.
A cool summer job.
But keeping my Saturday 8–2 shift
year-round
gives me spending money
and the chance to stay on the island
and hitch a later ferry home to Shoreview.
“See ya, Lizzie-Lou!” my father calls from the bridge
as I make my way down the ramp.
He’s just Dad to me,
but to everyone else he’s Cap.
Captain Robert Grayson,
King of the Ferry,
Noble Seaman of Nantucket Sound.
Photo Op
I get on my bike
and pedal right out of Vineyard Haven
until I’m winding down country roads
lined with old stone walls and grazing horses.
I lean my bike against an oak
tinted with autumn’s promise
and raise my camera to catch a shot
of a wistful woman,
gray hair in a long braid down her back,
patting sweat from her neck
with a green bandana
as she pauses atop her ride-on mower
and stares out across her big yard
at all the grass yet to be mowed.
From the Hardcover edition.
Excerpted from Exposed by Kimberly Marcus
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.
In the dim light of the darkroom/I'm alone, but not for long.
As white turns to gray, Kate is with me.
background of the dance studio blurred,
so the focus is all on her--legs extended in a perfect soaring split.
The straight line to my squiggle, my forever-best friend.
Sixteen-year-old Liz is Photogirl—sharp, focused, and confident in what she sees through her camera lens, confident that she and Kate will be best friends forever. But everything changes in one blurry night. Suddenly, Kate is avoiding her and people are looking the other way she passes in the halls. As the aftershocks from a startling accusation rip through Liz's world, everything she thought she knew about photography, family, friendship, and herself shifts out of focus. What happens when the picture you see no longer makes sense? Told in breathtaking, searingly raw free verse, Kimberly Marcus's unforgettable debut will appeal to fans of Ellen Hopkins and Laurie Halse Anderson.