Here's the blurb and three short excerpts from my novel, 49 MIX TAPES:
A humorous and evocative coming-of-age story about the timeless mysteries of dating, friendships, school, parents, and finding your place in the world…It’s the 1980s, and Will McCarthy has two things on his mind. One is the dream of becoming a writer. The other is the hope that someday he’ll break out of Abby Carlisle’s “friend zone”—no easy task, considering her cynical views on relationships and life in general.
Will sets out to find his voice as a writer, experiencing the rewards and the letdowns that come with it. Inspired by a teacher and some of his favorite writers, he learns the value of being true to yourself, even when there’s a price to pay.
Abby wants the freedom to choose her own direction in life, despite her parents’ intention to do it for her. Taking a stand will require her to find courage she didn’t know she had.
As they go through high school, Will and Abby have some life-changing moments, proving that incredible things can occur when and where you least expect them…if you just let it happen.
“They’re making me go to camp again,” Abby said.
“That sucks.”
“It totally does.”
It was after midnight and I was getting ready to watch David Letterman when Abby called.
“We need to find a way to get you out of it,” I said.
“Like what?”
“Maybe you could come down with a serious disease or something.”
“Be serious,” she said.
“I am. We make up a bunch of symptoms and if they make you go to the doctor, he won’t be able to figure it out because it’s all made up.”
“We shouldn’t have seen Ferris Bueller three times,” she said. “It’s gone to your head.”
“How about a kidnapping?”
“Will, I’m serious. This totally sucks. I’m almost fifteen. Why should I have to go to camp like some kind of little kid?”
I couldn’t argue with that. My parents had never made me go to camp, and I was always grateful for it, especially when Abby would return and tell me how much she hated it.
“Maybe I’ll run away,” she said.
“Then what would I do all summer?”
“Run away with me.”
I said, “I don’t have any reason to run away. You’re the one who has to go to camp.”
“I hate you sometimes.”
I laughed. “No you don’t. Oh, I almost forgot. We’re going to watch fireworks at the lake next week. Do you want to go?”
“Who’s ‘we’?”
“Me, Doug, Scott…you can ask Catherine.”
“Do I really want to be around you three pyros and fireworks?” she said.
“That was a long time ago.”
“It wasn’t that long ago.”
“We’re just watching other people light them off,” I said.
“Okay, maybe,” she said. “As long as you guys are far away from the flammable stuff.”
“Will, did you know Scott has a glass eye?” Doug said, as I sat down.
“Nope.”
“I do,” Scott said.
“Why do you have it?”
“You’re not gonna believe this,” Scott said.
He was right—I wasn’t going to believe it.
Scott said when he was four years old he got attacked by an ostrich at the zoo.
“How’d he get close to you?” Becky asked.
“It was a she, and she was pregnant.” Scott looked around at each of us, like he was checking to see if our expressions told him whether we were buying his story. “They weren’t in a cage or anything. Just a wooden fence between them and everyone.”
“Did you provoke it?” I said. “I hear they don’t like to be provoked.”
He said, “You don’t believe me?”
Doug said, “Man, no! We don’t believe you.”
Catherine said, “Take it out and show us.”
“Eww no,” Becky said. “Barf me out.”
Abby said, “Yeah, show us. That’s the only way to prove it.”
Scott looked at Abby and leaned on the table, closer to her. “I can’t take it out. It’s permanent.”
Abby backed away, a grossed-out expression on her face.
“How come you never told us about it before?” I said.
“Hey, you guys don’t believe me? Fine.”
“I heard about this guy who had a wooden neck,” I said.
Abby and Catherine said, “Shut up,” almost at the same time, laughing.
Doug looked at me and caught on. “No, he’s not lying. I saw it on the news.”
I kept a straight face. “Guy broke his neck and they couldn’t fix it. So they gave him a wooden one. Like a wooden leg but…a neck.”
Doug said, “Yep.”
Scott didn’t like being taunted, but he had kind of asked for it. He got up and said he needed to get going.
“You’re not leaving because we don’t believe you, are you?” Doug said.
“You guys have your fun,” Scott said, and started to walk away.
“Oh, come on, we’re just playing,” Catherine said.
Scott kept walking.
Kyle said, “Come back later if you want. We’ll keep an
eye out for you.”
We all cracked up.
Scott flipped us off, turned around, and came back.
Abby and I went to see
Pretty in Pink. I was a little skeptical at first because of the title, but when she told me she heard it was by the same guy who wrote
Sixteen Candles and
The Breakfast Club, I changed my mind.
We both liked it so much that when it was over we snuck into another theater and watched the rest of another movie until the next showing of
Pretty in Pink started.
We talked about it the whole walk home. Abby said Molly Ringwald was probably her favorite actress. “She’s totally awesome,” were her exact words.
She asked me what I thought of Duckie and I said, “He was pretty cool.” I couldn’t tell her what I was really thinking—that I felt like Duckie sometimes, longing for a chance with the girl who was my best friend.
I rooted for Duckie through the whole movie and was surprised that it ended the way it did. I even found myself absurdly hoping he’d get the girl the second time we saw it.
I didn’t look or act anything like Duckie, as far as I was concerned. The similarity ended with the whole hopeless pining thing.
Abby said, “But you know, I don’t think she would have ended up with Blane.”
“You don’t?”
“No,” she said. “People from different worlds like that don’t end up together. No, she would have ended up with Duckie in real life.”
So maybe I did have a shot.
She said, “It’s only in the movies that people end up with the person they really want to be with. In real life, I think you have to settle.”
“You’re probably right,” I said, thinking:
Oh well…
