by Savannah Brown (book review)

Sydney is dealing with the consequences of her father’s unexpected death in a car crash. Then come the texts. Derogatory and insinuating what Sydney had had in the back of her mind the whole time – maybe her father’s death wasn’t, after all, an accident. Everything is set in motion as June Copeland, homecoming queen and seemingly stereotypical “popular girl” befriends Sydney. And to this, the protagonist, along with the reader, begs the question: in what way is June linked to her dad’s death?

I was afraid of reading this book.

Savannah Brown is one if my favourite Youtubers, so sweet and gentle and smart. I was afraid of being biased upon reading her first fiction novel, more so than I was afraid of not liking it. One chapter into the book and I sighed in relief – the book was good. Good good.

I hold this book dear, so I’ll start with the negatives to get them out of the way now. I don’t find these troublesome, but I can see why other people do.

Not a thriller, but a coming of age story

The book is marketed as being a thriller. I don’t know to which extent this decision had anything to do with the author, but it did lead to some people feeling let down because they were expecting a thriller and got a coming of age story about grief, sexual orientation, toxic relationships, and anxiety – all the heavy stuff. It was simply targeted at the wrong audience. And although the book has its thriller elements, it is mostly a sad, human story about a teenage girl grieving her father. The second half of the book, where everything is set in motion and the typical thriller twists and turns occur, is actually the weakest part. So if you go into it expecting to read your next John Grisham, forget about it. Think more Salinger or Dunthorne.

At times, the narrative is mildly uneventful, which links with it not exactly being a thriller. A general tension slowly creeps into the story, and the dark tone is set from the first scene. Atmospherically, it feels like a thriller – action-wise, it doesn’t behave like one. I love an introspective read full of bitter-sweet nothings, like the movies Palo Alto or Submarine. But I also know it’s not for everyone.

And now let’s get to the good parts!

I was pleasantly surprised to encounter a very real cast of characters, so well-constructed, at times I’d forget they were fictional. The most fleshed out was, of course, the protagonist, whose 1st person perspective dominated the narrative, with a strong and distinct voice. It is raw, and painful to read, as the author describes, through Sydney, the trauma of death, along with all the others conundrums of her teenagerhood: coming out, bullying, anxiety and depression.

Most of all, through the issues it discusses, the book is a relevant ode to our generation, obliterating the high school cheerleader-jock-nerd dynamic that we’ve seen play out for longer than it should have. It addresses mental health in a way I’ve rarely seen portrayed. Although the writing style flows lyrically (due to Brown’s background in poetry), it never fetishizes suffering by making it seem soft, poetic, or beautiful, in the way recent poetry has been doing. Reading it hurt, especially as Sydney, at core, represents of our current generation – a painfully contemporary protagonist, thrown into a tragic story. It could’ve been any of us, and Savannah makes sure to convey this through her writing.

Brown knows how teenagers work, how they think, and how they talk

I’m saying this because the auctorial voice is fresh and powerful. You can tell Brown is a young writer because she knows how teenagers work, how they think, what they like and, most importantly, how they talk. I might be very selective, but I can’t stand YA contemporary books written by older authors who want to seem “hip” and grotesquely overuse what they perceive as teen slang because it trended on Twitter some time back in 2015. Brown’s dialogue isn’t even overridden with slang, and it still portrays teens better than any other dabbing caricature recent literature has been passing as a relatable character.

Another thing the book accomplishes beautifully is having a very diverse cast, without it being ostentatious – no token POC or LGBTQ+ character, with the only purpose of inclusivity. The protagonist is gay, which is a natural part of the story, without being pondered upon, but also coming with its baggage of hardships marginalized groups face. The love story that unfolds is beautiful and progresses naturally, as the characters have a special chemistry, pleasant and exciting to read.

And… guess what? The protagonist isn’t even the only LGBTQ+ character of the story! And every character, however small, has agency. No one feels like a pawn to drive the plot forward.

Needless to say, I think everyone should give this a try. It’s easy to read, accessible genre-wise, and an important inside look into the lives of today’s youth.