YA chiller
" I don't mind living in a small town; I just don't want to die in one.
I also am not interested in serving time in one, either, but that possibility is growing exponentially, as I seriously consider murdering the guidance counselor's secretary."
If you're a chiller affecianado I'm betting those first few lines from Mindy McGuinnis' A Long Stretch of Bad Days will catch your attention. Especially after I tell you that the whole book lives up to their promise.
Lydia Chass comes from one of the best families in her small town. They must always live up to a certain image. Any slip on the part of one of its members would be a public relations nightmare. For instance,
"Dad inherited the three-story brick mansion on what's known as the 'nice street' in Henley. He makes enough money so that we get to live the American dream: two-car garage, a stay-at-home mom, and a cat. But we're not as well off as some people would believe. My car is leased, the deck on the back of the house needs to be replaced, and Mom and Dad have been leaning on me a little more heavily about applying for scholarships--state and national, of course. Not local. That would be embarrassing."
Bristol Jamison comes from a family that's as far from the Chass clan as possible on the Henley social status scale. They inhabit the wrong side of the tracks part of town. There's a saying that there's always a Jamison in the high school...
...and she's pregnant. For the record Bristol is not in the family way. In fact she's on track to be the first in her clan to earn a high school diploma.
So what could a Chass and a Jamison have in common?
How about a alcoholic guidance counselor who screwed them over. As he's being fired it's discovered that both girls are short one history credit they need to graduate.
Lydia has clout and isn't afraid to use it.
"'But being sorry doesn't put me any closer to what I need,' I say, keeping my voice calm. "So, before I go home and tell my parents that the guidance department at Henley High has ruined any chance I have of getting into a first-class journalism school, why don't you tell me how this is going to be fixed?'"
Lydia is told that an independent study project can fill in for the missing credit. She has a podcast: On the Ground in Flyover Country. She decides that she'll cover her town's long stretch of bad days. It's a week in Henley in 1994 during which a tornado created a swath of destruction, a flash flood killed all the inhabitants of the dog pound, and the body of the only murder victim in the town's history was discovered. And she decides to bring Bristol along for the ride.
So the academic odd couple will go through old records, distill their findings into podcast content, and walk at their graduation?
Well that's far from a done deal. To walk you have to not die. As I've said before, small towns can have very dark secrets and people willing to do whatever it takes to make sure they don't see the light of day.
So if you're a chiller affecianado, make sure to join Lydia and Bristol on their pursuit of dangerous truths.
On a purrrsonal note, Monday at UMaine was pajamas day. When I explained that to Eugene he asked me why in the world I'd want to do that. He seemed kind of skeptical when I said it would be so much fun. I can see how on a construction job it would go over like a lead balloon. Then he said I'm an adult meaning I should be "above" such "nonsense". Bull crap. It's possible to be responsible and trustworthy without being fun aversive. That's like the best of both worlds. So I wore my best (cat, of course) pajamas and matching slippers, got lots of compliments, and had a wonderful time. (Jules)
Nothing wrong with pajama day. (Tobago)
A great big shout out goes out to the people who decided to have a pajamas day.
Tobago and Jules Hathaway
Sent from my U.S.Cellular© Smartphone
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