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Cher-y-lynne {sher-uhl-lin} –noun 1. One who formerly sold and recommended children’s books at a bookstore; a specialist in young adult, middle grade, and picture books. 2. A para-educator at a middle school. 3. A struggling young adult writer. 4. A lover of chocolate and popcorn. Archaic: An Audiology and Speech Language Pathology major at Brigham Young University. Questions? Suggestions? Books you'd like me to review? E-mail me at cherylynne1 (at) gmail (dot) com.
This is a blog for my ranting, raving, and occasionally brilliant opinions. You have been warned. Enter at your own risk.

Monday, April 13, 2009

Book Review: My Angelica by Carol Lynch Williams

Williams, Carol Lynch. My Angelica. New York: Delacorte Press, 1999.

Angelica performed CPR on her Indian lover. His lips were blue. Both of his eyes were closed. At least, Angelica thought they were. One eye was covered by a bearskin eye patch. The other lay limply in its socket.
Angelica's perfectly curled hair trembled with fear. Her white-gloved hands looked even whiter on her lover's bare chest. "Get up, 247 Bears. Get up!" Angelica yodeled like an American Indian banshee.
Suddenly the piece of deer meat spewed forth from his mouth. The dark-haired man breathed deeply, then stood on his own two feet.
Angelica, he signed to her. You have saved me. Will you be my squaw?

15-year-old Sage's mother is a famous romance writer, and Sage knows that writing is her destiny too. She also knows that her character, Angelica, will be her claim to fame, the smart, strong, sexy character that will rocket her to the top. But George, Sage's best friend, knows something that Sage doesn't...her writing is atrocious. He puts up with it patiently for years, but when Sage announces she plans to enter her novel in a writing contest at the school, George knows he must find a way to stop her before she is humiliated.

Quite literally could not put it down. Usually I don’t like clueless girls, but Sage is so loveable. I think maybe it helped that we saw her through George’s eyes, and he showed us the good side of her. I loved George! What a sweetheart. And Angelica! Oh, Angelica! I would feel bad about laughing at her so much, but I know that the first female president would simply wipe away a sensitive tear with a gloved hand without disturbing any make-up and run to her eye-patched lover and press passionately against his perfect chest—without, of course, disturbing a single strand of her perfect curls—and all would be well. So I feel no guilt at laughing at Angelica all I want. Williams's humor will keep you laughing the whole way through. A phenomenal book for teenagers.

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