The Wall Street Journal Guide to Understanding Money and Investing

 The Wall Street Journal Guide to Understanding Money and Investing 
1999
Weight: 16 oz
Method of Disposal: Throw Away (not sure it can be recycled)

This was an easy to read and helpful little book in the 90s when my father gave it to me in hopes he could help me figure out how to be a more responsible adult.  Unfortunately for me and him, I had no interest in learning about stocks, bonds, mutual funds, money markets.  I wanted to help people, create art, be involved in the community.  This book was perfect for a teenager.  Pictures, definitions, easy explanations.    I picked it up as an adult and thought, why not?  I read it, but it was so dated.  It is interesting to read about the way things used to be done before the internet changed the world and to see the origin of things we do now.  It is interesting to see how much the world is the same and different after 21 years.  I cannot believe how much I am the same but different 21 years later.

My wife was 8 years old.  I was 14.  It is so hard to imagine two life trajectories, even when they have been lived.

Tiger Eyes

Tiger Eyes by Judy Blume

1982

Weight: 4 oz

Method Disposal: Giving Away

It is no secret that, in general, Americans do not have a healthy connection with death and dying.  I sure do not and have been looking for tools and resources on my own in an attempt to get more comfortable with the most uncomfortable of subjects.  I always think I am preparing myself, but there is no preparation and it is jarring and disorienting in the largest, most earth shaking ways when death touched you, even on the periphery.  I am scared to face the death of my loved ones, but I am also determined to be better at being supportive of those I love who are grieving.  Unfortunately, it is not something that you can learn from reading a handbook, and it is not something you can protect yourself from.

I did not pick up this book to learn about death.  I picked up this book to revisit the work of Judy Blume as an adult, and I had also never read Tiger Eyes.  I recognized the style right away, even though I did not know the story.  Tiger Eyes is about a teenager who loses her father to violence and her struggle to overcome depression, anxiety, and grief afterwards.  She must do this within a family of other people who are also grieving.  She wants and needs her mother, but her mother is lost in despair too.  She is not always her best self and neither are her mom, her aunt, her uncle, but they are also not their worst selves.  They are just hurting people.  

I think young adult books like this, centered heavily on character development, are so helpful and important to our emotional growth.  Young adults do not always feel comfortable asking questions and, if they are like I was, they would not even always know what to ask.  You are learning so much so fast, and what you are learning is not just your school curriculum.  If a young adult will read and wants to read, they can learn without fear of judgement, without having to know what is right and wrong to ask, and you are just led through it without even realizing you are learning.  Learning by experience even if you, personally, are not the one doing the experiencing.  Do not get me wrong, you do not read Tiger Eyes and then become a person who knows what it is like to grieve, but you do develop empathy and concern.  There is a template, if you ever need to see one again or if you needed one to begin with, that shows you that there is still life after the death of a loved one.  Books like this one do not make everything better, but their value is subtle and that value collects in your brain, with all the other information you have gained from life, from other books, from other people.  Thank you, Judy Blume, for tackling the hard stuff, even though it is not easy to face the darkness.

The Letter Q

The Letter Q: Queer Writers' Notes to Their Younger Selves Edited by Sarah Moon
2012
Weight: 1.3 lbs
Method of Disposal: Lending Library

My most exciting discovery from this book was that Bruce Coville self-identified as bisexual and then queer in his essay.  I remember reading his books growing up.  I remember thinking that there was something very wrong with me and being so ashamed.  I remember realizing that I was attracted to women and thinking I might be the only girl to feel that way.  I was so jealous of my brother every step of the way.  Being a boy.  Staying out late.  Dating girls.  All along, gay, lesbian, bisexual, queer, and transgender people were around me, leading the way, making a path, helping me survive, showing me another way, even when hidden behind the words on the pages of books about alien teachers and dragon hatchers in the books I stole from my brother's shelf.

This book is predominantly gay with a capital G.  A few dashes of lesbian.  And maybe a pinch of gender fluidity.  It, ultimately, aims to reassure kids that life will get better for them and that they are not alone.  What would I say to Little Laura?

Dear Laura,

I am proud of you and impressed with you for coming out when you did.  I know it is not always easy, and it will not always be easy.  But you learned to fake confidence when you were not feeling confident, and I think that likely saves you.  You will have your nose shattered, your car keyed, they will put pictures of dead gay people in your locker, say horrible things about you that you still cannot imagine ever saying about another human being, and ultimately they will make your car inoperable.  They will also call you ridiculous names that will make you laugh because they just show you how little they know about sex, pleasure, love, and happiness.  "Leg Licker" will stand out as a particularly ridiculous insult in a stream of insults..  Do not let these things break you.  You will want to let them break you.  You will meet plenty of girls and women that are interested in you.  You will inspire people even when you think no one is paying attention.

People are not at all wrong when they tell you that you will love college.  I know you struggle to believe that because you feel so alone and fit in nowhere, but it is true.  In college, all the things the middle schoolers and high schoolers hated about you will make people respect you and reach out to you.  Some people will want your advice.  You will actually, and I know this is hard to believe, be grateful for all that you went through, at least in some ways, because, while a lot of people are discovering who they are in college and going totally wild, you will feel safe in the security and knowledge that you already know who you are.

The person I most want to speak to is you in 6th, 7th, and 8th grade.  Your mom's friend will tell you that those will be the best years of your life some day and that you will miss them.  You struggle to believe that is true.  Your mom will tell you that she wishes she could tell you that people grow up and are more mature, but it is not true.  The difference, is that you grow up and are more mature.  More able to find your own people and set your own boundaries.  Your mom's friend is 100% wrong (making you 100% right--you are stuck in the worst time of your life), but your mom was right. 

Don't get me wrong, you still have a lot of terrible things to face.  I will warn you now never to drink in that dive bar by the school, or at least to get the fuck out when some random guy you do not know gives you the creeps.  Up until then, there is not much you regret but, if you do not get out of there, you will regret so much for so many years.  Everything else will make you who you are and make you stronger. 

You will never again feel that soul crushing loneliness.  You will never again think that you are so uniquely malformed and maladjusted that you do not deserve to live.  You need to live and you need to meet the woman you will give all of yourself to.  She will not be the woman of your dreams.  It turns out your dreams were extremely limiting and were holding you back.  She is far more amazing than anyone you could have ever thought up, and you spend plenty of wasted time trying to find that imaginary person until the beautiful year you spend finding her.  The good news is that all that trying is what prepares you to be the person she needs when you find her.

Anyway, I do not know what to tell you and what not to tell you that will pull you through those hard years.  I think the most important things are as follows:

1.  One day you will not only be okay with being a lesbian, you will be GRATEFUL for it.  You will not want to change it even if you could!  This part of yourself has sparked in you so much more.  You are caring, empathetic, active, passionate, loving, fighting, worthy, open, interested, intrigued, turned on, compassionate, ever-evolving.

2.  Do not start smoking.  Your mom is so right.  Once you start it IS next to impossible to stop.  And right now, you think you do not have much to live for, but one day you will have so much to live for that, instead of dancing with death, you will start to fear it.  Having been a smoker will not make this any easier.

3.  Get the fuck out of that bar when it starts to feel wrong.  You will be in your senior year of college.

4.  You will one day realize you were and are incredibly lucky.  Your parents are amazing (your dad is not what you think he is), you have friends that love you, and your partner is, as previously stated, incredible.  You have a not so small menagerie of dogs that follow you around and get jealous if you give your attention to anyone else.

5.  Stop with the suicidal whatever whatever.  You will one day realize that you are not just the oppressed but the oppressor.  You've had too much privilege to take it all and throw it away without unpacking it, examining it, and dedicating your life to making change.  You do not get to give up.  There is too much to fight for.

6. Masturbation is normal and wonderful.  I know it does not take you long to realize this, but just in case you need some help.

7.  Dana Scully really is that cool.  You will always think so. 

8.  If you can set your life up to where you and your family can hide away for the year 2020 and have enough food, supplies, money, etc.  Please God, do it.

I need you to be strong for me.  Hold tight.  There is so much more in you and in the world than you know.

Take care of you.

Laura

Dear Martin

Dear Martin by Nic Stone
2018
Weight: 6. 4 oz
Method of Disposal: Leaving in Lending Library

Harriet bought me Dear Martin as a surprise, and I am glad she did.  It is a young adult book about racism, being a teenager, being a black teenager among white teenagers, and police shootings.  It is important that we have books like these for young adults.  Young people are seeing young black men being killed by police in the news.  Black teenagers are in between being kids and adults, but they are so often seen as adults by authority figures and not just adults, but also as a threat just by being in a random place (their home/the sidewalk/the train station/the car/etc) at the wrong time (a time where someone with power is feeling scared or angry). 

Today, I watched "When They See Us."  I think I have written about the Central Park Five here before.  It is a story that never gets less heartbreaking and, honestly, just gets worse the more you know.  The people who made this series did a great job.  For any white people who cannot see black teenagers as children, you should watch this and do not look away.  I do not even have children but, if you do, can we please all just open our hearts to what it would feel like to be the parents of these boys?  For everyone else, the siblings, friends, girlfriends.  Whiteness has been constructed.  There is no going back.  We can only go forward. We do not want to keep ruining lives and embracing an embarrassing and incredibly cruel history or acting like it did not happen.  That helps no one.  We have got to do the hard work.

Yearbooks 1997-2006

Assorted Yearbooks
Weight: 20.2 lbs
Method of Disposal: recycling

I am not lugging these yearbooks around again.  I have looked through them again briefly as a 32 year old, and I have learned some things.  Here they are:

• My first grade yearbook is adorable.  We hardly knew how to write and so it wasn't quite the popularity contest it became later.  My teachers loved me.
• My middle school yearbook is sad.  I clearly hated myself and everyone else.  I was constantly battling off bullies and couldn't see who my real friends were and, while I was nice to them most of the time. I would sometimes blow them off and frequently slam them in my yearbook for being almost as unpopular as me.

• In high school everyone thought I was weird and a lot of people hated it, but it turns out a lot more people admired that I had come out and was so open than I realized.  At the end of the years I may not have had 600 signatures, but I had letters in my yearbook and it was a good feeling to know that I was more true to myself and less of an asshole than I was in middle school. Most of my teachers liked me again and the ones that didn't must have been assholes...kidding kidding.
• More people than I realized knew I was having a terrible time in school and was really struggling.  I think a lot of them tried to fix it in ways that should have been obvious to me, but they really weren't.  I would like to thank them.  They may have saved my life.

• A lot of my most important friends and people did not go to school with me.  I met many of them at work.
• People took college yearbooks far less seriously than middle and high school ones.  People like myself would not even show up for the photograph and therefore have almost erased themselves from the school's history and do not have to be ashamed anymore. 

• I apparently went to school with Ron Weasley.
  
  
  

The Science of Self-Realization

The Science of Self-Realization by A. C. Bhaktivedanta Prabhupada

1997

Weight: 8 oz

Method of Disposal: Tossing

 

 

This one has been chewed on by critters, and so I do not think it is safe to sell, donate, or give away.  It isn't in great shape but, even if it was, I am not sure I would know what to do with it. 

When I was in high school I worked at a smoothie shop in the mall.  I met all sorts of people while I was working there and a lot of them were up to no good.  There was an overwhelming number of adult men and women who were interested in sleeping with a kid like me.  And I do not mean sleeping in the adorable, sweet sense.  I really believe I had more adults interested in me then than I have in all the years combined that I have actually been an adult.  It is disturbing.

If I was not ducking and dodging those creeps, I was trying to get free stuff from the Truth kids on my cigarette breaks or chatting it up with the folks handing out books like The Science of Self-Realization for a small donation.  My mother always warned me, "don't let them brain wash you."  "Don't trust those people."  And I never did, but a free book was a free book and, no matter what the topic was, I wanted to read it.  And I did, though clearly it did not have the impact on me it should have because I have completely forgotten it all these years later.  I have, however, never forgotten that mall and the people who hung out there.

Just this week I was sitting at my desk at work when one of the women who felt like we "connected," insisting "age did not really matter" all those years ago walked in the building wearing a FedEx outfit and had me sign for a package.  I guess I am too old for her now.  She didn't think twice about it or try to charm me in any way.  She had absolutely no idea who I was or that I knew her secret.  If I got her name now and made a phone call would it do anything for anyone?

 

Boy's Life

Boy's Life by Robert McCammon
1992
Weight: 9 oz
Method of Disposal: Donating to the AKS

This book was recommended to me almost ten years ago.  I was working at Barnes and Noble and a woman that I absolutely respected, who had very different taste than me, highly recommended this book.  I bought it right away, but it took me a long time to actually read it.  I finally did this summer, and I really enjoyed it--despite the fact that it is not my usual style at all.  It will sound ridiculous, but it had everything from murder to streaking to dogs to camping to lust to racism to ghosts to magic to teenage boys to hunting to loss to family to underwater monsters...to on and on.  It is hard to imagine that he packed it all in there, but he did.  It is almost like someone challenged him.  Write a novel...and include all this crazy shit...and make it readable.  Like magic, you get Boy's Life.

Moments

Moments: Contemporary Verse from Around the World  Eds. Sharon Derderian and Robert Lawrence
1998
Weight: 2 lbs
Method of Disposal: Donating

This is my first published work.  Given, it was a scam.  You could send your writing into a contest and, if you won, you went in the book for free.  If you did not win you could still get in, but you had to pay a substantial amount of money.  Of course, they did not word it this way but it was obvious.  I was lucky enough to have a mom who thought boosting my ego was worth it--just so I would not lose my creative spirit--and I thought it meant something.  So, I got this bound book with my poetry in print.  Even then I knew it was sketchy, but I thought it still gave me bragging rights, though I never really bragged about it.

Please let me tell you now, that my mom was broke.  Like broke, broke.  And she still thought encouraging my creativity was a valid use of her hard earned money.  Plenty of late nights and a lot of stress went into what would become this poor excuse of an anthology.  I have held onto it all this time.  And I will never forget what it did for me.  Thank you, Mom.  I love you so very much.

Now, I am sure you want to see the piece of shit I turned in.  Here it is:

Love by Laura Lynn McKelvey age-12

My love for you is strong, yours is no more than a mere hello.  I want you and need you every minute of the day.

You'll never understand me or even see me.  I'm just a stranger among strangers.  One of the many who lives everyday, but always seems so far away.

I would die for you, you would scream for me.  I would lie for you, you wouldn't say a thing.  I would kill for you, you wouldn't do a thing!

I love you forever and you'll love me.  Never.

There are a few things I need to say now.  One is that this is a terrible poem, even for me at twelve.  I had better.  Why would I choose this one?  Two is that I might have been a touch dramatic and a little creepy.  I would kill for you?  Wtf?  Three, it is amazing I thought I knew what love was at that age.  Awww....what?  It would be embarrassing except that, at some point, you have to recognize that teenagers (and pre-teenagers) have "no idea", and their feelings are still valid and important, even if only to them and their peers.  You should listen and encourage.

P.S.  I was such a lesbian.

Cringe

Cringe: Teenage Diaries, Journals, Notes, Letters, Poems, and Abandoned Rock Operas
Ed Sarah Brown
2008
Weight: 1.4 lbs
Method of Disposal: Donating

So much fun!  I loved reading Cringe.  It was hilarious.  I really appreciated the adult responses to the teenage love, angst, excitement.  Some of the authors had me laughing quite loudly, while all alone in my bedroom. 

I could, of course, and unfortunately, relate.  I wrote out wills and testaments.  I wrote love letters and fan letters trying to proclaim how not weird I was being to Gillian Anderson.  Things like, "I just really love you.  Not in a creepy way.  But I have to meet you.  Not to be weird."  So so scary.  SO glad Gillian probably never had to read them, but I feel bad for whoever did.  Or not.  I think I want THAT job.  I could read and respond to fan mail.  Totes!  Imagine the stories you could tell at the bar.

I also quoted Ani Difranco ALL. THE. TIME.  And turned in bizarre, worrisome, self-important bullshit to my teachers.  These pictures all show parts of an autobiography I wrote for class in high school.  Note the psychology appointments, the make-up down my eyes, the huge pants, hair colors, the walls of my bedroom, and the sad/absurd pictures of me dressed for a friend's funeral and me crying over breaking up with my "spiritual affinity."  Who thinks these are good picture taking times?  Who?

 

 

I, of course, am the hunched over girl in the Nine Inch Nails shirt.  I was not at all obsessed with the girl on the left...

Thank God for nice, patient teachers that do not write notes to students that say "Get over yourself!  You have hardly lived yet!"  I thought this teacher was MEAN but, after this note, and a few good book suggestions, I secretly loved her.  I am sure I showed her my appreciation by staring at her like I am looking at the camera in the picture with my dad, stepmother, and brother above.



 

Bottled Up

Bottled Up  by Jaye Murray
2004
Weight: 4 oz
Method of Disposal: Leaving in Decatur, GA

I just read this the other day because I was not feeling well and was laying around.  I wanted something easy and quick to read so I picked a teen lit book.  I thought it was pretty good.  I appreciated many components of it.  It was important to see how many positive influences Pip had to have and how a little luck also went a long way to setting him on the right track.  I appreciated that the adults were portrayed as people who didn't always know what the right thing to say or do was.  It could be an important read for many teenagers, whether they are going through something difficult or not.

It has rave reviews on Amazon and a lot of people praise the authentic teenage voice.  I am not going that far.  Particularly in the beginning, I had trouble believing in Tye-dye loving, drug using Pip.  I felt like the description of marijuana use was WAY over the top.  The portrait painted of the alcoholic father was good, but the portrait of the mother was really lacking.  It was an alright book.  I am afraid I will loss it soon to my declining memory.

Black White and Jewish

Black White and Jewish: Autobiography of a Shifting Self  by Rebecca Walker

2000

Weight:  1.1 lbs

Method of Disposal: Leaving somewhere or giving away to the first person to ask for it

In 11^th grade I (finally) had a lot of friends.  I had been on the periphery since coming out as a lesbian in 8^th grade, but people had started to move on and grow up.  Or get intrigued.  My close friend, Chris, ultimately lived with me, and we were always playing with fire or drinking too many screwdrivers.  I dated several beautiful and interesting women.  Some of my teachers seemed particularly invested in me, and I was doing okay despite the underage drinking.  

I was also receiving your standard anti-gay death threats, was taunted on a weekly basis in front of my entire sociology class, had my car keyed, and my nose shattered.  

The memories blur together, particularly with Mrs. Galloway, my 11^th grade English teacher.  I remember, and I fabricate.  I was dressed as Marilyn Monroe for a history class, complete with blond wig and beauty mark.  If you know me at all you will know that is a strange get-up for me, but I did love me some Marilyn.  I excitedly told Mrs. Galloway about it.  I ran to her class early so I would have a few minutes of talking time before the other students filtered in.  She was blowing bubbles into a hallway of teenagers.  A video camera was involved.  My camera, not allowed on school property.  Later that day an administrator would try to take it away thinking it was a cd player.  I remember trying to tell Mrs. Galloway about one of the worst days of my then life and not succeeding.  It was difficult to explain that day in sociology class—how they has finally found a way to wound me.  Did they even do anything different from all the other days?  I just remember that once I was away from them I started crying and could not stop for hours.  I had to leave school early.

I remember when she asked us to write about our feelings the day after 9/11.  We would then read them to the class.  I wrote about my brother, my fear of him going to war and then I volunteered to read it aloud.  I got up in front of the class and the further I went the more I choked on air.  I could not breathe.  I would never again be quite comfortable when speaking in public.

Mrs. Galloway introduced me to Kurt Vonnegut and Flannery O’Conner.  She talked about teaching during the race riots and how much she admired and worried about her students.

I hated everything about the oppressive South before I met her.  She taught me that we had some incredible literature and strong women.  I did not have to ignore the negative aspects in order to appreciate the good.  That many of The South’s shining moments arouse out of adversity.

She let us read and write about books for extra credit.  I read as many as possible and then some.  She would lend me her own.  I remember when she gave me Rebecca Walker’s Black White and Jewish and Black Like Me by John Howard Griffin.  She let me keep these, and I have kept, carried, and cherished them.

I read Black White and Jewish last week.  I read every recommendation she offered me but, for some reason, owning this book allowed me to put it off indefinitely.  It’s too bad because after I finished it I could see why she might have given it to me then.  It would be useful for a teenager, particularly one struggling to find her place.

I do not think Walker realized the full potential of her writing in this work.  It seemed like she had a lot of experiences that she knew were linked together, but that she could not work out in a rhythmic way.  As a teenager I would have loved the style, but as an adult it seemed to stretch out and periodically falter.  Sometimes she seemed to backpeddle, or she included some unnecessary details that took you out of the moment.  Maybe it was how the experiences were ordered.

This is not to say that I was ever bored.  I never was.  I was invested in every word.  I admire her courage and honesty.  I was caught off guard by how much she opened up.  This is a good book.

Unlike many wise readers, I was stunned by the inactions of her mother Alice Walker.  I naively did expect so much more out of her.

Rebecca stands on her own.  She had a strong and important voice.  I feel privileged to have been allowed this insight into her life and now it is time to pass it on to someone else.

The House on Mango Street

The House on Mango Street  by Sandra Cisneros

1991

Weight: 5.6 oz

Method of Disposal: Donating or giving away

I finally read The House on Mango Street.  I could tell within the first few pages that Cisneros was a skilled author.  I fell into it right away, but as I continued through it I lost some of that initial magic.  It almost felt half-realized.  I enjoyed it, but I kept wanting more.  I think that beautiful sentences or paragraphs were surrounded by lackluster ones, and I was never quite sure when the beauty would come back.  All of the sudden, it would appear and I would be impressed again.  

It was short and easy to read, as it was broken up into numerous small vignettes.  I, of course, appreciated her willingness to tackle difficult situations in a way that was not overly graphic, but also does not assume that children are not exposed to horrible things early, like sexual violence.   Her use of imagery was on point most of the time.   She fits so much into one tiny book.  I do think it is one of the better books written for a younger audience.  It is a book that older adults also enjoy.

Her is a sample of Cisneros’ writing, “In English my name means hope.  In Spanish it means too many letters.  It means sadness, it means waiting.  It is like the number nine.  A muddy color.  It is the records my father plays on Sunday mornings when he is shaving, songs like sobbing (10).”

Same deal as usual, if you want it let me know.  It is yours for the taking.

I Will Always Think of MC Paul When I Hear "Sigourney Weaver"

Prayers for Bobby by Leroy Aarons
1996
Weight: 3 oz
Method of Disposal: I am going to leave it somewhere in the Metro-Atlanta area unless anyone out there wants it. UPDATE: Sending to Jenn C.





I read Prayers for Bobby a long time ago, way before it ever became a Lifetime movie starring Sigourney Weaver. At least, it seems like a long time ago. I was a totally different person in 1996—a much younger person who had just realized that she was into women but had no idea how queer-fabulous she really was. At that time, I loved this book. It broke my heart and made me stronger at the same time (I use clichés because my feelings at the time were trite and overdone). I needed this book in order to understand the kids at school, my upbringing, what I would eventually go through at the hands of strangers. Bobby had a very different life than I did, but there were some small, important connections.

I wanted my father to read it, my mother, my friends, everyone. I gave it to my deeply Christian friend, Jacque, and told her that I would go to Church one time in exchange for her reading it. I really do not remember what happened around that. I am fairly certain I never went to Church with her though I had been many times in the past and would go again. I want to say she read the book, but I am not certain. I have it now so if she did borrow it she did not neglect to return it. We still talk, and she is still a Christian woman, and I am still a queer woman. The book came up one last time in some letters we wrote to each other during college about a boy who attended her Presbyterian (?) School.

The book is wrinkled, bent, used. There are just a few markings in it. I read the passages that are highlighted and cannot fathom what it was about those particular sections that made me feel so bold. I do know, even now, that this was an important, sad, and redeeming book about a mother who suffers greatly after the death of her son. She realizes that all the help she had tried to offer him in life was actually detrimental, painful, and tormenting to Bobby. I cannot imagine what it would feel like to realize that after someone you love commits suicide. I am glad she went on to be an advocate, and I hope she is able to find some peace. After all this time, I still recommend reading this book. I think I will even give in and watch the Lifetime movie. I hear Weaver won a Golden Globe when it was all said and done.

OutrageoUS: The Photographs the editors of US Magazine
1998
Weight: 2.3 lbs
Method of Disposal: Donation




This little embarrassing remainder from my teenage-hood came into my possession after I realized that there were two pictures of Gillian Anderson, one of Geri Halliwell, and one of Tori Amos included in its pages. All women I was intrigued by. I took a quick look through the pages once again before tossing it into the donation box. It is like throwing out a landmine. I would hate for someone to find that book in my house. It was fun to see the shifting and ridiculous faces of fame and fortune. My new fascination, Julianne Moore has withstood the changing times. Unfortunately, so has Matt Damon. At least, to a degree. I am fairly confident that Tom Cruise would no longer be one of the first faces you saw in a book like this, with no one at his side like the others had. Just the words, “Icons and Ingenues.” Claire Danes and Sarah Mechelle Gellar look far too young to be in the sexy positions you do not see them in as often now that they are not playing teenagers on tv.

The truth is that I am still a little bit shameless. I tossed the book in a box like it was so much trash and then went back 5 minutes later to tear out the two pictures of Ms. Anderson. You cannot claim that I am not loyal, but you could probably argue that I have trouble letting go.
Ah well. We’re not perfect, are we?

"Wow. I never considered that girls could be transgendered."

Luna by Julie Anne Peters
2004
Weight: 13 ounces
Method of Disposal: Donating—I just found a new place I can donate books. I like the variety. Dr. Bombay’s Underwater Tea Party in Atlanta sells all used books for 50 cents and then donates the money to Noah’s Ark. http://www.drbombays.com --tea shop http://www.noahs-ark.org --Animal Rehabilitation Center and Children’s Care Homes



Luna is a difficult one for me. On the one hand, I am thrilled that there is a book about being transgendered for teenagers and, on the other hand, I feel like it fell short. It could have been so much more! Or, am I putting too much pressure on it because it is such a rare thing? Probably. It should not have to be the authoritative book for teens on being transgendered. We should have a selection.

I respect the author. Julie Anne Peters also wrote DEFINE NORMAL and KEEPING YOU A SECRET. The first one is about getting past appearances and getting to know people who are not like you. The other is about two young women who fall in love in high school and all the shit they have to go through because of it. Thank you, Julie Anne Peters, for giving some variety to our young adult libraries. Some of the best books are made for teens and for kids. They are important, imaginative, and emotional. Children and adults can relate through them, and they hint at a common language/understanding. Adults usually write the books, but they connect to something in the child. This is the kind of book I was looking for in middle school. It came a little late, but not too late.

Luna is simplistic, but it is not such a bad introduction. The story is told from the point of view of the sister of Luna, a wonderful and caring girl who sometimes gets frustrated with how important she is to her sibling. I wish that the book did not have to reinforce such a cliché of transgender experience, but I also know that sometimes that is how it is. It is not that there are not people out there who will be able to relate fully to Luna—there are plenty of people who will. It just seems like it is the only story we hear. A “boy” struggling with his actual identity as a “girl.” “He” has been feminine since “he” was pushed out of the womb, and that is how it is. Period. No blurry lines--just from one thing to another. Again, this is not the fault of the book or the author but the American society at large. Luna recognizes that strict gender roles can cause damage, that there is a difference between gender and sexuality, and that we are all human. We get frustrated.

Overall, I think this is a great addition to any young adult collection, and I will miss it when it is gone. I hope it reaches someone young who is looking for a book just like it. Luna will be a great start in an overall understanding of oneself and/or others, but there will be much more to learn and read when it is over.