David Patneaude's Blog: Different Worlds - Posts Tagged "conrad-wesselhoeft"

I've said it before and I've probably written it before, but the "buzz" thing is an ongoing puzzle to me. In other words, how does one book, maybe good, maybe not so good, maybe awful, get tons of attention, and another, maybe very good, go largely unnoticed?

I don't know exactly how much notice Conrad Wesselhoeft's Adios, Nirvana received when it was published in 2010, but I don't recall seeing it featured on bookstore shelves or lauded in reviews or given awards. Those things should have happened, though. The book has flawed and wounded but likable and memorable characters who change and grow, a believable narrative, credible language, conflict, humor, and a strong voice. What else do you need?

Overall, Conrad's writing is excellent, and he does a fine job of balancing the various elements he has going on in the story. And then there's the feeling that this could be real, that these are real people, kids and adults, that you want to get to know better. This is the kind of fiction that involves you enough that you want to know what's going on with the characters now, now that the ending has been written. Jonathan, Conrad's main character, is a smart kid, but he's believably smart. He's a kid, not an adult in kid's clothing. He behaves like a kid, feels like a kid, hurts like a kid, takes risks like a kid.

This kind of verisimilitude is what is missing in some of the stories I've read (yes, even those that get "buzz") that are written about and for young adults. But this story gets it right, and the author should take a deep bow, even though his show may not have attracted a full house.

One curse of being a writer is the temptation to read other writers' stuff and analyze the hell out of it. Instead of simply enjoying a story, doing that old suspension-of-disbelief thing, you tend to look at its bones--the style, techniques, methods, theme. You isolate the pieces--context, characters, conflict, choices, changes. You look at the balancing act of show versus tell, the word choice, the figurative language, the point of view, the tense, the authenticity of dialogue. You note the amount of research that must've been involved.

But in a way all of that can be a blessing, too. Because when you read something really good, and it transports you into that suspension-of-disbelief zone despite your critical leanings, you KNOW it's good. And when you do peek below for a glimpse at the underpinnings of the story, you appreciate what the author has done, the work that's gone into it.

DIRT BIKES, DRONES, AND OTHER WAYS TO FLY is one of those books. Conrad Wesselhoeft doesn't live in rural New Mexico. He isn't seventeen. He isn't trying to figure out seventeen-year-old girls. He doesn't converse regularly with seventeen-year-old friends or members of a national security team. He doesn't fly drones over Pakistan. He isn't a world champion gamer. He doesn't spend hours riding a dirt bike through the desert or jumping it from suicidal heights or diving from airplanes. He's not a kid dealing with the death of a parent and a sister's terminal illness and a shattered family.

But he makes you believe all these things. Which is the mark of a writer who's done the work and the homework. The research. The writing. The revising. He's done the teamwork thing--listening to critique, listening to your agent, listening to your editor.

I appreciated everything Conrad accomplished in DIRT BIKES. But more importantly, I ENJOYED it.