The March issue of School Library Journal includes three letters to the editor in response to Brian Kenney’s February editorial about homophobe Orson Scott Card winning the Margaret A. Edwards Award. One of the letters was written by YALSA president Paula Brehm-Heeger, who provides the official YALSA position.
It should be an interesting Awards Luncheon in Anaheim next June.
Setterington, Ken. Mom and Mum Are Getting Married! Illustrated by Alice Priestley. Second Story Press, 2004.
I read about the Canadian One Shot World Tour today over on Fuse-8’s blog, and, as an aspiring Canadian myself, I didn’t want to miss a chance to participate.
Besides, I thought it would be a perfect opportunity for me to review a picture book by one of my favorite Canadians, Ken Setterington, a brilliant critic and an innovative youth services librarian in Toronto who, happily for us, is also a writer. He’s written one of the best picture books about a gay or lesbian family that’s been published to date.
Published shortly after marriage was legalized in Canada, his picture book focuses on a little girl’s excitement over her two moms’ upcoming marriage and the role she hopes to play in the wedding. At first she’s disappointed that Mom and Mum are having a simple ceremony at the family cottage with no role for her as a flower girl. But she’s consoled when her moms agree that she and her little brother, Jack, can be ring bearers.
At the last minute, however, her mothers worry that Jackis just too young to be entrusted with one of the rings, and decide they should carry both rings themselves. But when one of the mothers gets so nervous that she forgets where she put her ring, the little girl enlists her uncle’s help to calm her mothers’ nerves and fulfill her own desire.
Setterington’s warm story doesn’t try to explain or justify why this is a family with two moms. The family simply is. It’s also nice to see them as part of a loving extended family. It’s a welcome reflection of reality for children who are growing up in lesbian or gay-parented families — let’s just hope this reality becomes more widespread in the next few years.
Mayra Lazara Dole’s first young adult novel, Down to the Bone, was published earlier this month by HarperTeen. It’s a surprisingly funny story about what happens after a 16-year-old Cuban-American girl is publicly outed and ostracized by most of her family and friends. Mayra has a unique ability to make us laugh through tragic circumstances, without making light of them, and she is definitely a rising star in the field of young adult literature. She was born in Cuba and now lives in Miami with her partner, Damarys.
What inspired you to write Down to the Bone?
My inspiration came from my teen experiences and also from a deeply rooted love for my Cuban heritage/culture and a desire for Miami Cuban homophobia to be exposed so it can be discussed openly. After being chemically injured by pesticides which destroyed my immune system at the time, I felt an overwhelming need to leave behind a book that inspired and moved others to promote free thinking, love and tolerance, and that would motivate straight, gays, monkeys, whatever… to stomp on hate.
Are there parts of the book that are autobiographical?
Yes. At fourteen, my first love and I were thrown out of high school due to a muy caliente love letter she sent me detailing our first time making love (too juicy to recount!). Much like Laura, I had a boyfriend but my heart beat passionately only for my one special girl. As a teen, I was a mix of Laura and Soli’s personality (I didn’t sleep around like Soli, though). The rest is realistic fiction motivated by emotions ranging from deep loss to extreme joy.
There are a lot of painful and tragic events that happen in your book. How did you manage to make your book so damned funny?
I haven’t a royal clue! Cubans are a fun, gregarious lot. We could be chopped into pieces after a tragic accident, eyeless, toothless, and pushing in our bleeding liver and we’d manage a final whisper, “Don’t worry. I’m fine. I’ve always wanted reconstruction organ surgery.” In my early teens, my closest friends were drag queens and gay guys. I’m still close with one of my first drag queen friends. We destroy each other via email with outrageous comedy skits that nearly burst our spleens. I do have a pensive, deep side which Laura also shares. It’s about being both extremes and workin’ it ’cause if you don’t, you’d die of the pain…
I was intrigued by the trans character Tazer, and was secretly hoping that Laura would get together with him. Can you tell us a little more about him?
In my first draft, Laura had fallen for Tazer but as I revised, Laura Rumba’d me into another direction: Miami Cuban lesbos’ true life experiences (they’d be terrified to be seen with a girl who looks like a boy, thus why most lesbos here look femme even if they’re butch under the sheets). In other words, in writing Down to the Bone, I stayed true to my culture. On the other hand, if Laura had been an adult, she’d have probably gone for Tazer, the handsome, sensitive, intelligent playwright. Wouldn’t everyone?
I know I would! Another colorful character was Viva, the mother of Laura’s best friend who took her in. I hope every queer kid has an adult like Viva in their lives. Can you tell us a little bit about where her character came from?
Viva’s loving heart was created from the love gifted to me by my now deceased paternal aunt, Nina. Nina raised my brother and me after my father died and my mother took on three factory jobs. Unfortunately, I was too terrified to come out to her and wish I would have. Once, out of nowhere, she said to me, “No matter what, I’ll always love you.” Down to the Bone is truly a tribute to her unconditional love. Viva’s quirky personality was inspired by Beba, my funny/wacky/metaphysical mother-in-law. Earlier today, Beba left us 12 consecutive messages on our phone machine of Walter Mercado’s entire astrological forecast for each sign (he’s an infamous sort of drag queen and celebrity astrologer Cubans adore). She then left her own voice message, scolding me in Spanish, “You’ve never had a cavity yet, so don’t forget to cut your fingernails on Fridays or you’ll start getting them!” She ended the message in her beautiful, broken English. “Me is gonna go to Miami Bitch’s (Beach’s) gay club wiss your book on Saturday night to sell to la familia.” (familia, in Cuban gay circle means, “gays”) I’m not exaggerating–I know I exaggerate for fun, but this is real.
Did you have any difficulty finding a publisher for the book?
At first, yes. I wrote Act Natural!–now Down to the Bone–in Cuban Spanglish and received a barrel of rejections! I quickly deleted the Spanglish, changed the title, and rewrote the novel on fire, with intense vigor and a new set of vibrant characters. Every moment alive counted and I zoomed through the writing while my health allowed, my fingers and brain worked, and with an oxygen tank by my side. Unlike many editors I encounter/ed, I lucked-out that mine wholeheartedly understands Latina/o culture (she speaks Spanish and is married to a Colombiano) or Down to the Bone would still be homeless.
Your bio on the Harper web site says you have worked as a drummer, dancer, landscape designer, Cuban chef, hairdresser, and library assistant. Which of these was your favorite job?
Hairstylist and landscape designer (like Soli and Laura). Creating “art” while having a blast, truly satisfies me deep, deep, down to the… to the what? To the marrow!
How old were you when you realized you were a lesbian?
I was fourteen, 100 percent heterosexual–what a disgrace!–and crazy about boys when a close girlfriend first kissed me (I still remember where we were standing, her rose talcum powder scent, and how I melted). It was so delicious, that I swear, I saw birds flying, heard elephants stampeding, and couldn’t see straight for years thereafter! Our relationship grew in depth until the infamous love letter. I had kissed with a boy I’d had a huge crush on but nothing compared to the one with my first love. Due to having been expelled from school, not ever being allowed to see each other again, the ostracism etc., I became terrified to come out, thus I went back into the closet. I was still physically attracted to guys, but I only longed for my first love. I had a good relationship with an Argentino for a year. Physically, I liked him, but emotionally? Nothing. Niente. Nada. I longed to fall in love with him to no avail. Finally, we ended it.
How do gays, lesbians, and trannies in the Miami Cuban community survive the homophobia?
Most Latinas/os are closeted due to extreme homophobia. Your “married-with-kids” Latina friend just might have a secret female life-partner on the side and her lover is dating a man for pretense. Miami is much looser now. Lots of teens are bisexual and don’t give a flying fricassee what others think. But traditional, religious Cuban-American teens attending Catholic and Christian schools (very high percentage) are still closeted and doomed to live a lie. Older lesbians tend to be closeted and married to men or end up living a celibate, lonely life. Survival for most Latina lesbians everywhere depends upon lying and never coming out.
When did you officially come out?
When I couldn’t take the homophobia in Miami, I split to Boston for nine years. Most of my haircutting clients called themselves, “Lesbian”–yes, the lesbos followed me everywhere!–and I couldn’t relate. I hated the word. Looking back, I realize that “Lesbian” reminded me of “Tortillera” a word that made me feel severely unsafe and disgusted. I shunned those words until recently. In Down to the Bone, Tortillera is used as both derogatory and powerful and ends in a word of empowerment. Miami Cuban lesbians will take issue. One friend exclaimed that Tortillera is, “So disgusting!” She yelled at me. “How could you use it?! No one will be caught dead reading your book! You’re crazy! People are going to think Cuban women are grotesque!” Insulted? I think so. But hey, she’ll get over it if she reads my novel, or she can just write her own! Writing Down to the Bone helped me come to terms with the fact that it’s important to come out when one feels safe in order to fight for your birthright to be who you really are. So finally, I’m an “out” er… l… l… See? Although I’m “out and proud” I still have trouble stating that word when it pertains to moi. Ok! Faked you out! I’m a total Tortillera!
If you’re a Latina reading this and cringing, just try using the word for fun. Call up your friend, “Hey Tort, what’s up?” They’ll laugh and it’ll catch on. The more you use it, the less the word will ever hurt us.
The book is dedicated, in part, to your mother. Has she read it yet?
If my mom reads Down to the Bone she’ll instantly die of a patatú! She speaks zero English, has never read a book in her life, and doesn’t have a computer (don’t get me wrong. Mami is brilliant, just not traditionally educated). I dedicated my novel partly to Mami not only because she’s ill now, and I adore her, but because she’s grown tremendously. She now accepts Damarys and me as a couple. This, of course, is beyond miraculous!
I know the book hasn’t been out long, but have you heard anything from teen readers yet?
Yes! I’ve gotten notes stating how much they love my novel, relate to Laura, and want a friend like Soli. Some quote their favorite scenes which melts my heart. Many express having cried and laughed their heads off. Some proclaim my story is also their own. Just yesterday, surprisingly, a Miami Cuban lesbian in her thirties stated that as a teen, she’d been through “most everything Laura went through emotionally.” My book moved her deeply. I can’t even express how much these responses mean to me. A great surprise is that straight teens and adult LGBTQ’s also love my book. Gay guys go nuts, but mostly, it touches lesbians of all colors, classes, and ages, in ways I dreamed it would.
What are you working on next?
I have many projects going on at once, but the one that’s just finished is a tranny story set in Miami with an all “out” Latina/o cast of LGBTQ characters.
I can’t wait for your next book to come out. When can we expect it?
Thanks KT. That means a lot to me. I’ve finished my next YA novel and would love for editors to be knocking on my door, but that will only happen if Down to the Bone is a success story and it’s too soon to know. I need to work harder than all authors put together at book promotion due to my being a Latina lesbo who lives in a “bubble.” Please, root for me. Ask your libraries to order and carry my book. I’m keeping my fingers crossed!
Speaking of that bubble, if you don’t mind me asking about your health, are you okay now?
I’m trying hard to get better. Thanks for asking. I still must live sealed in a specially made room, but this past month I was able to go outdoors a few times using precaution. My immune system can no longer handle even the most benign chemicals until I get stronger. I was able to pick tiny flowers and made my first bouquet in 4 ½ years. It was a miracle neighbors weren’t spraying pesticides in their lawns and the builders next door weren’t working (they use all toxic chemicals that come my way due to wind direction). I just became a columnist for a Latino gay magazine, Ambiente, where I explain my plight in an empowering column titled, “The ‘N’ Word.” Don’t miss it. Leave me an email if you wish. I’d love to hear from everyone.
Moreno Velo, Lucía.
Manu se va a la cama / Manu’s Bedtime.
¡Manu, No! / No, Manu!
Manu pone la mesa / Manu Sets the Table
Illustrated by Javier Termenón Delgado. Topka, 2006
Apparently you have to go all the way to Spain to find good board books about kids living up in gay or lesbian families. There is much to admire in Lucía Moreno Velo’s appealing series of three square-shaped board books about Manu, a toddler with two moms. The bilingual text in each volume deals with every-day things in the life of a small child: bedtime, helping out with family routines. and being told no.
When Manu tries to help set the table, for example, he manages to carry the table cloth for one of his moms with no problem, but is less successful with the basket of dinner rolls, which he drops en route, causing him to cry. The story concludes with hugs and reassuring words from his two moms.
In tone, the books remind me of Barbro Lindgren’s wonderful Sam series from several years ago. Like Sam, Manu behaves like a typical two year old, determined to do things in his own way.
The spare and spirited illustrations show Manu as a large-eyed toddler. His two moms are distinct enough from each other that even small children will be able to tell them apart.
As an added bonus, the text appears in both Spanish and English. The English translation is not literal, but it aptly captures the way in which Manu and his moms interact with each other.
The books can be easily purchased directly from the publisher, Topka (I did, and they arrived in about a week). Whether you’re building a library collection or a personal one, you’ll want to have them. They’re sure to become favorite baby gifts for lesbian moms.
Shields, Charles J. I Am Scout: The Biography of Harper Lee. Henry Holt, 2008.
Taken from his adult biography of Harper Lee, Mockingbird, published in 2006, Charles J. Shields’ work is edited for young readers. As with the adult version, his focus is on her early life, the only book she ever published, and on her lifelong friendship with Truman Capote.
Harper Lee (known as Nelle to her family, friends and Mr. Shields) is famously reclusive. That that she has never married and has always maintained a fairly butch persona, have led to speculations about her sexuality. But someone as private as Harper Lee is unlikely ever to talk about this aspect of her life when she won’t even talk about why she’s never published another book.
Contrast this with her friend Truman, the inspiration for Dill in To Kill a Mockingbird, who as an adult was always flamboyantly and unapologetically open about being gay, even in a time when most gay men and lesbians were closeted.
Both Harper Lee and Truman Capote realized as children that there was something different about them that gave them a special bond. Young Truman even made up a word for it: apart people.
Although no overt mention is made of the sexual orientation or gender identity of either one, Shields’ frequent descriptions of Lee’s masculinity and Capote’s effeminate characteristics may cause young readers to wonder. Concerning Lee, it seems to be the only thing people in her hometown of Monroeville, Alabama, recall about her, or at least the only recollection Shields finds worth reporting. Here’s a small sampling of how she is described:
p. 1: Nelle had a reputation as a fearsome stomach-puncher, foot-stomper, and hair-puller who “could talk mean like a boy.”
p. 2: She was a “sawed-off but solid tomboy with an all-hell-let-loose wrestling technique,” wrote Truman of a short story character he later based on Nelle.
p. 2: Her eldest sister, Alice, 15 years older, later admitted that her little sister, the youngest of four children, “isn’t much of a conformist.”
p. 3: It was true she was tough and independent. She preferred wearing a scruffy pair of overalls to a dress and hanging upside down from the chinaberry tree in her yard to sitting quietly in church.
p. 19: So if Nelle — the tomboy, the roughhouser — resisted the normal expectations for her gender, perhaps it was because they seemed too limiting. “She was just like a boy!” enthused Taylor Faircloth, a resident of Atmore, Alabama, where Nelle spent summers. “She got rid of all her surplus hair in the summer time, and she could climb tall trees. When we played ‘capture the flag’ at night, she held on longer than anybody!”
p. 22: “Whatever his imaginative gifts, however, at first glance Truman hardly seemed the ideal candidate for friendship with a girl like Nelle. She was a female Huck Finn, with large dark brown eyes and close-cropped hair. Whereas he — as surely as every kids at Monroe County Elementary knew that night followed day — was a sissy, a crybaby, a mama’s boy, and so on.”
And so on, indeed. These sorts of descriptions of Lee and Capote continue throughout the first two chapters that describe their childhood in Monroeville. Even in her college years, Harper Lee was remembered mostly for her unconventional masculine attributes:
p. 53: And to many of the girls in Massey Hall, Nelle’s appearance was the last straw. She did not wear an ounce of makeup, only brushed her hair instead of curling it, and evinced no interest in indulging in any kind of beauty regimen.
p. 54: “I didn’t have anything in common with her because she was not like most of us,” said Catherine [a college classmate]. “She wasn’t worried about how her hair looked or whether she had a date on Friday night like the rest of us were. I don’t remember her sitting around and giggling and being silly and talking about what our weddings were going to be like — that’s what teenage girls talked about. She was not a part of the ‘girl group.’ She never had what we call in the South ‘finishing touches.’”
p. 54: “I noticed her physically,” said Mary Benson Tomlinson, another freshman. “She had a presence. I remember her better than I do anyone else at Huntington, except my roommate and maybe one or two other people. Everything about her hinted at masculinity. I think the word ‘handsome’ would have suited her.”
p. 63: On Friday and Saturday nights, when the other Chi O girls were bustling around, trying to be ready for dates or dances, Nelle never had any plans. No one recalled seeing her with a boyfriend. Practically every weekend, she tromped through the living room, golf clubs slung over her shoulder, heading out for a few rounds. The way she dressed for the golf course, just jeans and a sweatshirt, raised a few eyebrows. “That wasn’t the way we dressed,” said Jane Benton David. The pronouncement on Nelle’s outerwear was that it was “very different.”
“I am ashamed to admit that we made fun of her,” said Barbara Moore, a member of Phi Mu soroity. “Never around her, but behind her back.”
Okay, my gaydar is registering off the charts reading about what Harper Lee was like in college. Such descriptions are bound to lead to speculation but it can never be more than that. It strikes me as odd, however, that the author places such an emphasis on Lee’s boyish/mannish characteristics without ever uttering the L-word or, for that matter, when it comes to Truman Capote, the G-word. Instead, the author would have us believe that they were both somehow damaged psychologically because of their distant, uncaring mothers.
What year is this again?
To me, that’s a far more malicious speculation in a book for teens than one about sexuality would be.
Take a look at these two as young adults and see if they look like family to you. The photo of Harper Lee appeared on the book jacket of the first edition of To Kill a Mockingbird. It was taken by the person who probably knew her best, Truman Capote.
The finalists for the 20th annual Lambda Literary Awards were announced yesterday. Here are the five books vying for the award in the Children’s/Young Adult category:
In addition, Brent Hartinger’s young adult novel Split Screen (HarperCollins) is a finalist in the Bisexual category, and the Lesbian Debut Fiction includes Lu Vickers’ Breathing Underwater (Alyson).
Last year was particularly good year for LGBTQ literature for teens, so I can only imagine how hard it was for the judges to narrow the list down to just five titles in this category. It’ll be even harder for them to choose just one title from the list above.
Dole, Mayra Lazara. Down to the Bone. HarperCollins, 2008.
Laura and Marlena have kept their love a secret for two years out of necessity. They have both witnessed a lot of homophobia in the Miami Latino community where lesbians are derisively referred to as tortilleras. Laura fears rejection from her traditional Cuban-American mother, and Marlena, from her extended Puerto Rican family, should anyone learn about the joy they find in being together both physically and emotionally.
When Sister Asunción intercepts a love letter from Marlena to Laura in her Catholic school classroom, she outs Laura to her classmates, the school principal, and to her mother. Because the two girls have always used affectionate nicknames for each other, no one knows who wrote the letter, and Laura isn’t talking. Her mother, furious and humiliated, kicks Laura out of their home until she is ready to reveal the name of the other girl and act “normal.”
Laura’s best friend, Soli, and her mother, Viva, take her in and become her new family. Laura has been kicked out of her old school, and decides, at age 16, to drop out all together. She gets a full-time job in Marlena’s uncle’s landscaping business, where she witnesses on-the-job homophobia from one of the men in her work crew. It’s not aimed at Laura — no one at work knows she’s a lesbian — but rather at their butch co-worker, Jaylene, and at Tazer, the trans son of the wealthy man they’ve been hired to work for.
And then the worst possible thing happens: Laura gets the news that Marlena, who has returned to Puerto Rico, is engaged to be married. After all she’s been through, and all of their promises to each other that they would some how find a way to be together, Laura feels hurt, angry, and betrayed. Luckily, she has Soli and Viva for support as she recovers from the break-up.
Since she doesn’t want anyone else but Marlena, Laura eventually decides to follow suit and begins dating a man who has been courting her, hoping desperately that she’ll fall in love with him, and win back her mother’s love. Try as she might, she can only pretend to feel anything when she’s with him, despite the fact that he is falling hard for her. In the meantime, Tazer pursues her, too, but she feels absolutely no attraction to him, either, as anything more than a friend. And then there’s Gisela, the beautiful woman who’s been making eyes at her. Laura’s pulse quickens every time she sees her. She can’t avoid the fact that she is indeed a lesbian, down to the bone. And she doesn’t want to be anyone else.
Depressing, right? It’s hilarious! Because, in spite of the dire turn of events, Down to the Bone is truly a funny novel. As I was reading along, I often caught myself thinking, “How can I be laughing at these things when I should be crying?” I’m not quite sure how Mayra Lazara Dole managed to wring such humor out of this story. Partly, it’s her breezy style and the wry dialog. And partly, it’s Laura’s point of view. Through all her adversity, she maintains her sense of humor and an optimistic outlook on life. She’s a survivor who is determined to be happy, even if it means making those she cares about unhappy. She does what so many queer kids have to do — she finds her own community and creates a family of her own.
It’s great to see a new lesbian novel from a up-and-coming author with a fresh, funny, and original voice. I hope this will be the first of many novels from Mayra Lazara Dole.
The Wow! Women on Writing website has a wonderful interview with Lucía Moreno, the founder of Topka Books, in honor of Small Press Month. One of the things Lucía mentions in discussing why she started her own publishing company is the squeamishness of corporate presses in Spain when it comes to picture books about kids with two moms or two dads. (We seem to have that problem here in the U.S., too.) She has now published four picture books featuring kids in lesbian families; all are bilingual (Spanish/English). As soon as my copies arrive in the mail, I’ll review them on this blog.
Topka also publishes books about kids with disabilities, multiracial families, single-parent families, and adoptive families. We get requests all the time for books on these topics, so they will find a welcome home in libraries, schools, and households in the United States. Happily, Topka makes international orders really easy.
Neva Grant’s latest episode of her Morning Edition series “In Character” looks at my favorite literary character, Harriet the Spy. She asked me to talk about Harriet as a lesbian role model and, of course, I happily obliged. If you missed her report on NPR this morning, you can read the transcript or listen to the broadcast here.
You can find out more about Harriet and company at my Louise Fitzhugh Tribute Site.
Malloy, Brian. Twelve Long Months. Scholastic, 2008.
Brian Malloy joins a growing list of authors of adult fiction who have turned their talents toward writing for young adults. Not every adult author has succeeded in this genre. For some reason, gay authors seem to have a greater than average success rate. Perhaps it’s because adolescence, for many of us, was so unforgettable that we can still tap into the emotions connected with our own period of self-discovery and the search for a soul mate. We can never really forget what those vulnerable teen years were like, much as we might like to.
Malloy’s first novel for teens is written from the point of view of a straight teenage girl, Molly Swain, who has fallen hard for Mark Dahl, a high school classmate who is brooding, gorgeous, and, admittedly, way out of her league. They are lab partners in a senior chemistry class and, in spite of the fact that Molly does Mark’s homework for him and lets him copy her exam answers, he never has much more to say to her than “Sup?” She fantasizes about Mark constantly, and she has plenty of time for fantasy because she has no social life outside of school — not that there’s much of a chance for a social life in Le Sueur, Minnesota, a small town famous for its now-defunct Green Giant canning plant.
Molly is an excellent student who wins a full scholarship to Columbia University where she plans to major in her favorite subject, physics. She is eager to leave Le Sueur behind her, especially when she hears that Mark is also heading east to work in his uncle’s house painting business in Montclair, New Jersey. As two kids from the same small town, Mark and Molly begin to hang out together in Manhattan, a dream come true for Molly, especially when Mark begins to crash regularly in her dorm room, rather than to take the long train ride home to Montclair in the middle of the night. They even share her single bed on these occasions. Mark always sleeps soundly, spooned up against Molly, who, not surprisingly, can’t sleep a wink.
The two become such close friends that Mark eventually tells her something that he’s never been able to confide in anyone else: he’s gay. Molly, crushed, doesn’t want to believe it. But she’s such a good friend that, against her better judgment, she agrees to accompany Mark to a gay club that he’s too shy to go to on his own. Seeing Mark interact with other gay men makes it possible for Molly to begin to accept the truth, even though she still feels deeply in love with him. She begins dating a fellow physics major and, although they have a lot in common, she never has the depth of feeling for him that she has for Mark. This is a girl who can carry a torch as big as the the Statue of Liberty’s.
The twelve long months referenced in the title go from May to the following April, representing how long it takes for Molly to work through her unrequited love for Mark. For readers, the months pass quickly because Molly is a genuinely interesting character, as are her new college friends, Lily and Jessie, and even her matrix-theory obsessed boyfriend, Simon. And Mark is a marvelously complex character in his own right. Readers will figure out that he is gay long before Molly does, and that makes her slow realization all the more agonizing.
In a sense, Molly is going through her own coming-out process — she transforms herself from an insecure, small-town wallflower to a self-confident, sophisticated New Yorker. Over the course of the year she learns that she is not unlovable, fat, and ugly, as she has always seen herself, but is instead an intelligent, independent young woman, worthy of love and friendship. “I’m the daughter-of-a-bastard truck driver from the Valley of the fucking Green Giant, and I’m not gonna take it anymore!” she boldly proclaims by the story’s end. Damn straight!
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