Review by Booklist Review
What happens to survivors of a school shooting? It's a vexing question and one that Bliss seeks to answer in this richly realized novel, which is divided into three parts, each focusing on a different survivor of the same shooting. In Part 1, it's Claire, who was so deeply traumatized by the experience that she and her older brother have moved from their small North Carolina town to Minnesota, hoping to leave the trauma behind only to discover that it has come with them. In Part 2, it's Eleanor, who has worn a hand-lettered shirt to school that says "Fuck Guns," an act that has attracted national attention and made her a pariah in her gun-crazy town. And in Part 3, it's Brendan, who has fearfully returned to school after a year's absence during which time he has obsessively played Wizards and Warriors with his therapist, a game that has taken over his life. The considerable length of this book--each part is nearly long enough to have been published as a standalone novel--affords Bliss more than ample room for plot and character development, at both of which he excels. The theme, of course, is a powerful one, and it is passionately and successfully presented in this inarguably important book, which offers no glib answers but invites serious thought and discussion.
From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.
Review by Horn Book Review
"When was the last time she'd actually felt safe? She knew the exact minute of the exact day." Claire didn't die in the North Carolina school shooting that took the lives of three fellow students and a teacher, but she is a victim nevertheless, and so are Eleanor and Brezzen, whose lives are intertwined with Claire's, in Bliss's affecting narrative triptych. Claire's troubled existence at her new school in Minnesota is plotted out with precision, as she must decide "which routes to take in the hallway, which teachers would understand when she needed to just put her head down," and how to keep "monstrous" thoughts at bay. Where Claire is troubled, Eleanor is angry, her rage-infused first-person voice represented by the iconoclastic FUCK GUNS T-shirt she made after the incident. Her fury is directed at teachers, coaches, school board members, the whole town in North Carolina, where "it has been an entire year and nobody has done a damn thing." Brezzen has retreated into his fantasy-game world of Wizards Warriors, with its Game Masters, dragons, and skeleton hordes. In each memorable narrative thread, characters are distinct and carefully drawn, though the author's hand is at times evident in language too adult-sounding ("It must be difficult to be a creation...To lose all sorts of...I don't know. Agency, maybe. Control?") and in advice offered by helpful teachers. But the three stories do yield "an honest picture of healing after trauma," as the author hopes for in his acknowledgments. Dean Schneider January/February 2021 p.99(c) Copyright 2021. The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
(c) Copyright The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Review by Kirkus Book Review
Three high school students cope with the aftermath of a school shooting. About one year ago, three students cowered together under a staircase during a mass shooting in their school. Now, each one is attempting to move on with life in their own way. Claire has fled to another state and tried to forget, Eleanor rages against the establishment, and Brezzen has retreated into the escapist fantasy of a Dungeons and Dragons--like game. This book shines in certain areas while stumbling in others. The characters are real and likable, and their trauma is honest and raw. Bliss raises unanswerable questions that will allow teenage readers room to reflect and debate. He offers no trite solutions yet does not feign political neutrality. An element of the story having to do with zero-tolerance rhetoric that promotes criminalizing and expelling troubled kids instead of helping them may not be sufficiently contextualized for some readers. And though the characters and their trauma feel real, the depictions of their respective subcultures of skateboarding, basketball, and tabletop role-playing have the distinct flavor of an adult trying too hard to be hip. Ultimately, the book may leave some readers wanting a stronger thesis or at least a conclusive end to the kids' stories. But as in trauma and life, sometimes there is no neat ending. Characters default to White. An affecting story of trauma and healing. (Fiction. 14-18) Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
