Neal Shusterman rose to stardom in the late 2000s with master works such as the Skinjacker trilogy and Unwind, but his career started decades earlier. His first novel, The Shadow Club, is on par with the best fiction he ever produced, but I've found that to be something of an outlier. Not all of the Storyman's releases from the 1980s and '90s were as morally complex and emotionally explosive as The Shadow Club, though they were at least pretty good. The Eyes of Kid Midas, Darkness Creeping, and The Dark Side of Nowhere hinted at the Shusterman who would someday take center stage as perhaps his generation's finest storyteller, but those books didn't attain the magnificence of his later ones. I include Speeding Bullet in that lower tier of achievement, but it's not without exciting action and deeper meaning. Like everything Neal Shusterman writes, there's value to this offbeat tale of urban discontent.
Fifteen-year-old Nick Herrera of Manhattan, New York is less than pleased with his lot in life. He and his pal Marco eke by in high school with dismal grades, hoping to graduate at age eighteen, and the future Nick sees is no bed of roses. He wants more from life than a dull, dead-end job to hold down until he's too old to enjoy retirement, but has no clue how to pursue higher goals. His humdrum trajectory changes on the day a gory accident occurs on the subway tracks...at least it would have had Nick not intervened. A little girl falls in front of the oncoming train and no is close enough to prevent the carnage but Nick, who jumps down onto the tracks, lifts her to safety, and is freakishly lucky to escape the behemoth headed his way with only moderate injuries. Nick is Manhattan's celebrity of the day, but he senses there's more to his heroic deed than instinctive bravery and dumb luck. Suddenly he can't flip a coin without it landing heads up, and he feels empowered with a supernatural streak of good fortune. Putting this notion to the test, he performs another dangerous rescue and catches the eye of Linda Lanko, teenage daughter of one of New York's richest moguls. Linda senses a special aura around Nick and invites him into her exclusive circle, where they become more than friends. A hero is hard to resist; how much more a hero immune to bad luck?
After tasting the adrenaline and reward of saving people, Nick can't stop. He's sure this is his calling, that whatever jeopardy he places himself in, he'll survive. Fascinated by his courage yet frightened that Nick could be badly hurt or killed, Linda attempts to dissuade him from patrolling for rescue opportunities, but there's no arguing with destiny. As word of his feats spreads like floodwaters in the city, Nick begins feeling uneasy about bearing so much responsibility. He can't save every poor sap in New York, and shouldn't be expected to. With Nick trying to ignore his own foreboding, Marco encouraging him to embrace exceptionalism, and Linda begging him to quit while he's ahead, circumstances align for a day of doom in the heart of Manhattan, a day that screams for the city's boy savior to come to the rescue. Are Nick's accomplishments truly the result of destiny, or could his luck fail with his life on the line? In the grim situation he's about to enter, a misstep will mean death not only for Nick, but the people he cares about.
Nick may seem motivated to be a hero by glory or wealth, but it's deeper than that. He wants to leave a legacy in this world where people die each day who won't be remembered by anyone in ten or twenty years. If you don't carve a mark on history that can't be ignored, it's as though you never existed, and who in their right mind would be okay with that? Who would cheerfully accept that the lifetime of unique beauty they've witnessed and created, the people they've loved and nurtured and sent out into the world to make a difference, will disappear from the memory of the collective unconscious? Millions never think about that because it's depressing. Like Marco, they cling to their illusions and live an unexceptional life, going the way of the dodo when it's over. But Nick, like many ambitious souls, isn't content with that. "He wasn't like Marco—Marco's mental wiring was just right. It was a closed circuit that functioned fine, but Nick was seriously miswired—he knew it had to be true. God had made some weird circuitry mistake in his head, because Nick knew his dreams far outreached his ability to ever achieve them. He wondered if having high-voltage dreams in a low-voltage brain would cause him to pop a major blood vessel sooner or later." How do you cope when your reach infinitely exceeds your grasp? Is it possible to be happy when the best you're capable of is less than you're satisfied giving the world? If you're facing that sort of existential crisis, tune in for Nick's story. You'll find a kindred soul, and maybe new perspective on the eternal riddle of life.
I've heard Neal Shusterman say he's not supposed to use the same name for main characters in more than one book, but Nick isn't his only lead by that name. Twenty-three years following the release of Speeding Bullet in 1991, Shusterman and Eric Elfman came out with the first novel of their Accelerati trilogy, featuring a main character named Nick Slate. I wondered briefly why Neal Shusterman would break policy like that, but figured it's because of some important plot points in the Accelerati trilogy. He must have decided they were worth violating his rule about character names, and I concur. Speeding Bullet isn't a favorite of mine, but it moves at a decent tempo, has three-dimensional characters, and the paranormal elements can be explained away if the reader chooses not to believe. I might go two and a half stars for this book, and fans of the author's early material will like it. In my opinion, a day with any Neal Shusterman novel is a day well spent.