Saturday, December 12, 2009

How to Ditch Your Fairy - Justine Larbalestier

buy - author site

The Deal: At this point in time, due to an RSI, I can only type for 10 minutes at a time. What you see below is what is hammered out before the timer goes off- and nothing more.

I know. The cover is misleading. The book isn't actually about fairies, no, it's about feeding greedy little black billy goats who will eat your shirt off your shoulder if you do not offer them cucumber sandwiches with the crusts cut off.

(Some of the above paragraph is not true. And by 'some' I mean 'all of it'.)

I picked up this copy of the book at Justine's launch down in Melbourne, and when I started reading it I sent her a note to tell her so. I have to admit, when I have friends who happen to be writers who happen to have books out who happen to have a very strong reaction to knowing people are reading said book at anytime, yes I tell them. Because I am a total turd like that.

This book was a great change in pace from what I'd been reading before. It was fun from page one. Fun! Remember the last book you read that was fun and silly? I do believe we give Serious Works far too much precedence over Not Entirely Serious Works.

Charlie is in high school, and has decided that dammit, she wants to get rid of her fairy. Being that her fairy ensures that she will always get a good carpark and thus means she's dragged to all sorts of places she doesn't want to go just to get a good park and hell, she doesn't even drive, this is quite understandable. Unfortunately, when you're a high school student with a particular inclination towards sports, the means for ridding yourself of a fairy are limited. In fact, they're practically non-existent.

Thus the story unfolds. Apart from the fairy-issues, Charlie has to deal with the fact that she's a teenager, and dude, that's trial enough all on its own.

Charlie is immensely likable. She tries hard, means well, and makes bad choices. I found myself seriously rooting for her the whole way through, and laughing at the mistakes she makes that I know I've made. Especially the ones concerning boys. (Boys, man, who the hell thought they were a good idea?)

It's a fun, fun, fun book, and dammit I need more such books on my shelves.

And seriously, you can't go wrong when the second word is 'spoffs'. Meaning 'boobs'.

Verdict: Yeeeeeeah! How about some stories about the ordeal of being a teenager that aren't super-saturated in angst? Booyah!

Thanks to Miss Apricot, who quite admires Charlie's apricot-coloured singlet.

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