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Zero Fade
The debut young adult novel by Chicago writer Chris L. Terry. Zero Fade chronicles eight days in the life of inner-city Richmond, Virginia teen Kevin Phifer as he deals with wack hair-cuts, bullies, last-year fly gear, his uncle Paul coming out as gay, and being grounded. Chris has an MFA from Columbia College Chicago, where he now works in Student Engagement.
294 pages, Kindle Edition
First published September 10, 2013
7 people are currently reading
453 people want to read
About the author
Chris L. Terry
5 books89 followersChris L. Terry is the author of the novel Black Card, about a mixed-race punk bassist with a black imaginary friend. NPR called Black Card, "hilariously searing." Terry's debut novel Zero Fade was on Best of 2013 lists by Slate and Kirkus Reviews, who called it, "Original, hilarious, thought-provoking, and wicked smart...not to be missed."
Terry was born in 1979 to a black father and white mother. He now lives in Los Angeles, where he teaches creative writing. His work has appeared in Best Small Fictions 2015, PANK, Very Smart Brothas/The Root, Apogee, Razorcake, and more.
Terry was born in 1979 to a black father and white mother. He now lives in Los Angeles, where he teaches creative writing. His work has appeared in Best Small Fictions 2015, PANK, Very Smart Brothas/The Root, Apogee, Razorcake, and more.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 48 reviews
February 11, 2021
looking for great books to read during black history month...and the other eleven months? i'm going to float some of my favorites throughout the month, and i hope they will find new readers!
i'm not sure who the target audience for this book is - i think it is YA, but it is one of those rare gems that manages to simultaneously skew both younger and older. i could see a ten-year-old boy loving this, and i - an old lady, found it completely charming. and i am not one usually swayed by "charm."
and, yeah, full disclosure, i know the dude - he is married to my friend sharon, and they are one of those infuriatingly talented couples that make you feel like you have accomplished NOTHING and that's cool whatever, guys.
but my point is - i'm not just being a blindfolded friendly-friend here - this is a legitimately awesome book, and it's the kind of book that some young kid will discover in their school library and it will be just what they need to read at the time. count on it.
kevin is thirteen, black, and living in richmond, virginia in the 90's. he is preoccupied with girls, his hair, avoiding getting bullied at school, and most of all - with not coming across as gay. his idea of what "gay" actually is and what its characteristics are is a little murky. when he listens to his eddie murphy tape and hears him talking "faggot this" and "faggot that," it is funny. the idea of two men getting it on is "nasty," but so is the thought of his mother having had a sex life, or most adults for that matter. to the pre-sexual kevin, "gay" is much more than a bedroom situation:
kevin's father walked out on his family when he was very young, and his closest male role model is his uncle paul, his mother's much-younger half-brother, who is the epitome of cool to kevin, with his leather jacket, nice car, easygoing but direct attitude, who laughs "like water bubbling down the drain" and can even make wearing glasses look slick.
paul is also, unbeknownst to kevin, gay.
this is a coming-of-age story that covers all the coming-of-age touchpoints: family squabbles, peer pressure, first crushes, insecurity over physical appearance, changing interests that distance him from his best, and only, friend, the all-encompassing selfishness of the teen years, and the dawning realization that grown-up life is full of disappointments:
the situation with paul is, of course, one of the most important conflicts, and the novel is told from both paul and kevin's points of view. this is one of the things that makes it appeal to an older audience; the adult voice as paul tries to find love, comes out to kevin, and deals with kevin's resulting feelings of betrayal and discomfort. that, and the many pop culture references that are blasts from the past.
for example, this book reminded me that jodeci existed.
it's just a great book with a far-reaching appeal, and a very strong voice. i loved it to pieces.
watch the trailer sharon made!
http://vimeo.com/71023892
read the book-signing aifaf-postscript here:
http://www.goodreads.com/story/show/3...
and also, obviously, read this book!!!
come to my blog!
i'm not sure who the target audience for this book is - i think it is YA, but it is one of those rare gems that manages to simultaneously skew both younger and older. i could see a ten-year-old boy loving this, and i - an old lady, found it completely charming. and i am not one usually swayed by "charm."
and, yeah, full disclosure, i know the dude - he is married to my friend sharon, and they are one of those infuriatingly talented couples that make you feel like you have accomplished NOTHING and that's cool whatever, guys.
but my point is - i'm not just being a blindfolded friendly-friend here - this is a legitimately awesome book, and it's the kind of book that some young kid will discover in their school library and it will be just what they need to read at the time. count on it.
kevin is thirteen, black, and living in richmond, virginia in the 90's. he is preoccupied with girls, his hair, avoiding getting bullied at school, and most of all - with not coming across as gay. his idea of what "gay" actually is and what its characteristics are is a little murky. when he listens to his eddie murphy tape and hears him talking "faggot this" and "faggot that," it is funny. the idea of two men getting it on is "nasty," but so is the thought of his mother having had a sex life, or most adults for that matter. to the pre-sexual kevin, "gay" is much more than a bedroom situation:
Being gay is the worst thing possible. Being gay is fighting bad, sucking at sports, not getting girls, wearing hand-me-downs from forever ago, doing good in class, and looking at other dudes in the locker room. I won't lie, except for doing good in class, I've done all those things. They're easy for a guy to do, but only the gay ones really let it happen.
kevin's father walked out on his family when he was very young, and his closest male role model is his uncle paul, his mother's much-younger half-brother, who is the epitome of cool to kevin, with his leather jacket, nice car, easygoing but direct attitude, who laughs "like water bubbling down the drain" and can even make wearing glasses look slick.
paul is also, unbeknownst to kevin, gay.
this is a coming-of-age story that covers all the coming-of-age touchpoints: family squabbles, peer pressure, first crushes, insecurity over physical appearance, changing interests that distance him from his best, and only, friend, the all-encompassing selfishness of the teen years, and the dawning realization that grown-up life is full of disappointments:
…I stopped thinking about it and just saw the city at a crawl, looking in the windows of the car dealerships and doctor's offices I passed.
How do grown folks wind up working at these places? When kids get asked what they wanna be when they grow up, they all say, "A firefighter," or "President," or "David Robinson from the San Antonio Spurs." But there's only like two hundred guys in the NBA, and only one president, and he's white, and ain't but so much on fire. So, I guess other people have to sell cars and sit at the desk at a doctor's office telling people when to go in. Not what I want, though.
the situation with paul is, of course, one of the most important conflicts, and the novel is told from both paul and kevin's points of view. this is one of the things that makes it appeal to an older audience; the adult voice as paul tries to find love, comes out to kevin, and deals with kevin's resulting feelings of betrayal and discomfort. that, and the many pop culture references that are blasts from the past.
for example, this book reminded me that jodeci existed.
it's just a great book with a far-reaching appeal, and a very strong voice. i loved it to pieces.
watch the trailer sharon made!
http://vimeo.com/71023892
read the book-signing aifaf-postscript here:
http://www.goodreads.com/story/show/3...
and also, obviously, read this book!!!
come to my blog!
January 18, 2016
Posted at Shelf Inflicted
If it wasn’t for Karen's review, I’d probably never come across this book, and that would be a terrible shame.
The cover was embarrassingly bright, the characters on the front are green and the one in back is yellow. I loved the book’s compact size, the bright white pages and the comfortable text size. It aroused some curiosity on the bus, probably because I’m in my 50’s and there’s a prominent Teen Urban Fiction label on the spine, or maybe because I had a silly smile on my face reading about 13-year-old Kevin’s “mushy tushy.” Yeah, it’s a kids’ book, but adults can enjoy it too.
I liked how this story shows just 8 days of Kevin’s life. It is not all mundane, though. He’s a very typical teenage boy at that awkward age where your body and emotions are in turmoil. His dad left when he was a baby, his sister is distant, and his mom is smart in lots of ways. It’s just too bad she can’t give her son a decent haircut.
I also liked how the story takes place in urban Richmond, Virginia, and features black characters that are richly drawn, vibrant and real. Their skin color is not the focus of the story, yet this is very much a story about the black experience. It deals with the complexity of relationships, identity, sexuality, and growing up without being preachy.
Kevin’s sharp observations brought me back to my own childhood growing up in the Bronx. Though we didn’t share all the same experiences, there were enough similarities that made it very easy for me to relate and empathize with his character. He wasn’t always likable (what 13-year-old is), but he is genuine.
Kevin deals with bullying, competing with his best friend to get a girl, and his discomfort with all things gay. His dapper gay uncle, Paul, certainly is not making that easier for him. At least Kevin now has a great haircut.
As thoughtful and entertaining as this story was, I’m glad it’s over. Like many kids, Kevin was really hard to take at times.
If it wasn’t for Karen's review, I’d probably never come across this book, and that would be a terrible shame.
The cover was embarrassingly bright, the characters on the front are green and the one in back is yellow. I loved the book’s compact size, the bright white pages and the comfortable text size. It aroused some curiosity on the bus, probably because I’m in my 50’s and there’s a prominent Teen Urban Fiction label on the spine, or maybe because I had a silly smile on my face reading about 13-year-old Kevin’s “mushy tushy.” Yeah, it’s a kids’ book, but adults can enjoy it too.
I liked how this story shows just 8 days of Kevin’s life. It is not all mundane, though. He’s a very typical teenage boy at that awkward age where your body and emotions are in turmoil. His dad left when he was a baby, his sister is distant, and his mom is smart in lots of ways. It’s just too bad she can’t give her son a decent haircut.
I also liked how the story takes place in urban Richmond, Virginia, and features black characters that are richly drawn, vibrant and real. Their skin color is not the focus of the story, yet this is very much a story about the black experience. It deals with the complexity of relationships, identity, sexuality, and growing up without being preachy.
Kevin’s sharp observations brought me back to my own childhood growing up in the Bronx. Though we didn’t share all the same experiences, there were enough similarities that made it very easy for me to relate and empathize with his character. He wasn’t always likable (what 13-year-old is), but he is genuine.
"Our school’s old. When you first walk in, there are class photos from the ‘50s to now. The school was segregated before Martin Luther King, so the pictures from the ‘50s and ‘60s are all white people wearing funny-shaped glasses and sitting on corncobs. By the ‘70s, there are a few black people in the pictures with big ‘fros and beaded necklaces like pictures of Mama in high school. They’re bits of pepper in a salt spill. But it’s reversed by 1980, and the pictures look like Oreo cookies—mainly black, with a little white in the middle."
Kevin deals with bullying, competing with his best friend to get a girl, and his discomfort with all things gay. His dapper gay uncle, Paul, certainly is not making that easier for him. At least Kevin now has a great haircut.
As thoughtful and entertaining as this story was, I’m glad it’s over. Like many kids, Kevin was really hard to take at times.
August 7, 2013
We're the publisher yo
September 15, 2013
BLURBLOG:
entry 1.
Hazards of reading this book on a bus include Chris Terry's friends wanting to talk about the ubiquity of people reading this book on buses--near you, but not TO you.
entry 2.
Almost missed my bus stop both TO and FROM work today because of this book. On the way home it was because I was reading the line, "Couldn't believe she'd touched my butt."
entry 3.
Saw Chris Terry read at WORDS+MUSIC4 and, by coincidence, he chose the passage I had read on the way to work. #zerofadecommute
entry 4.
I'm mostly noticing that Chris Terry has a far better recollection of what it was like to be in seventh grade than I do. The being-reminded is cool/uncomfortable.
entry 5.
Here is something remarkable: Chris Terry (through the vehicle of his narrator) manages to depict the way a person's little routine--something small, something thoughtlessly part of moving through one's day--gets picked up and perceived by their children; monumentalized and made epic through that perspective that belongs only to kids looking at their parents--who were their whole world before their worlds expanded. The little things still reign large.
"Her Pattie LaBelle tape came on, and I knew she was laying on her bed with her arms and legs stretched toward each corner like she was in medieval times, about to be drawn and quartered. She'd do that for a while with her eyes shut, then get up and make dinner."
I mean, who knew 12-year-old boys noticed things like that? Totally beautiful.
entry 6.
"Ssssmokin'"
entry 7.
This is a subtle and important work of social justice with a fantastic number of references to "The Mask."
entry 1.
Hazards of reading this book on a bus include Chris Terry's friends wanting to talk about the ubiquity of people reading this book on buses--near you, but not TO you.
entry 2.
Almost missed my bus stop both TO and FROM work today because of this book. On the way home it was because I was reading the line, "Couldn't believe she'd touched my butt."
entry 3.
Saw Chris Terry read at WORDS+MUSIC4 and, by coincidence, he chose the passage I had read on the way to work. #zerofadecommute
entry 4.
I'm mostly noticing that Chris Terry has a far better recollection of what it was like to be in seventh grade than I do. The being-reminded is cool/uncomfortable.
entry 5.
Here is something remarkable: Chris Terry (through the vehicle of his narrator) manages to depict the way a person's little routine--something small, something thoughtlessly part of moving through one's day--gets picked up and perceived by their children; monumentalized and made epic through that perspective that belongs only to kids looking at their parents--who were their whole world before their worlds expanded. The little things still reign large.
"Her Pattie LaBelle tape came on, and I knew she was laying on her bed with her arms and legs stretched toward each corner like she was in medieval times, about to be drawn and quartered. She'd do that for a while with her eyes shut, then get up and make dinner."
I mean, who knew 12-year-old boys noticed things like that? Totally beautiful.
entry 6.
"Ssssmokin'"
entry 7.
This is a subtle and important work of social justice with a fantastic number of references to "The Mask."
January 18, 2013
I'm publishing this so yeah I love it!
January 31, 2015
So what this is is a pretty great novel that fits in the overlapping part of the great Venn diagram containing Lit Fiction and Young Adult.
It's that rare contemporary book that has an insightful but still realistically naive and at times unlikeable teen boy narrator -- and the unlikeable isn't an insult here. Name one teen boy who at times isn't unlikeable. That's the greatness in a novel like this that doesn't omit that stuff and make the guy unbelievably thoughtful and an all-around good guy. Kevin in the book does some shitty stuff. But he's got a realistic complexly loving relationship with his older sister and his Mom, and his Uncle Paul who comes out to him.
So we've got a teen guy dealing with his gay Uncle too, and it's handled with care, and Uncle Paul is the kind of cool Uncle so many of us have been lucky to have.
Zero Fade is the best kind of Lit small presses have to offer -- some pretty raw and real voices you might not otherwise get. This one is worth seeking out, bigtime.
It's that rare contemporary book that has an insightful but still realistically naive and at times unlikeable teen boy narrator -- and the unlikeable isn't an insult here. Name one teen boy who at times isn't unlikeable. That's the greatness in a novel like this that doesn't omit that stuff and make the guy unbelievably thoughtful and an all-around good guy. Kevin in the book does some shitty stuff. But he's got a realistic complexly loving relationship with his older sister and his Mom, and his Uncle Paul who comes out to him.
So we've got a teen guy dealing with his gay Uncle too, and it's handled with care, and Uncle Paul is the kind of cool Uncle so many of us have been lucky to have.
Zero Fade is the best kind of Lit small presses have to offer -- some pretty raw and real voices you might not otherwise get. This one is worth seeking out, bigtime.
November 29, 2019
Loved it!
December 16, 2013
I decided I wanted to read a contemporary young adult novel after reading The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn earlier this year, which got me thinking about all the books I enjoyed as a kid, from The Lord of the Flies to Superfudge. Along came Chris L. Terry's Zero Fade, which follows its pubescent protaganist, Kevin, through the harrowing territory of junior high.
I don't read a lot of YA fiction because, well, I'm not a YA anymore, but Zero Fade, like some of those books I remembered from my own adolescence, resonates as well for adult audiences as I imagine it will with younger ones. It's tough, sensitive, and accessible, and it handles heady themes of race and sexuality genuinely, without ever seeming issue-y. It's just the kind of book I'd want my own son reading around the time he's Kevin's age.
I don't read a lot of YA fiction because, well, I'm not a YA anymore, but Zero Fade, like some of those books I remembered from my own adolescence, resonates as well for adult audiences as I imagine it will with younger ones. It's tough, sensitive, and accessible, and it handles heady themes of race and sexuality genuinely, without ever seeming issue-y. It's just the kind of book I'd want my own son reading around the time he's Kevin's age.
August 21, 2013
All Splendor and Fade. It changed my life.
July 29, 2014
This first novel from Terry (MFA, Columbia Coll.) centers on Kevin, a teen in urban Richmond, VA, whose cassette player and love for Redman place this a few years back. Informed, no doubt, by his experience teaching writing and theater to juvenile inmates, Terry has a gift for presenting realistic teenaged swagger. The author also manages to parlay this aggression as covering for inexperience; it is born from innocence and ignorance rather than depravity. The story chronicles a week in the life of Kevin, who is overweight and lives with his mom and sister. He falls in puppy love, gets in fights, does his best to avoid bullies, and yearns for the titular zero-fade haircut. Kevin’s main male influence/man-crush is his uncle Paul who has “…a chuckle that sounds like water bubbling down the drain. He’s the man.” Though the narrative focuses on Kevin, it is half Paul’s. Though young, Paul is presented as the older and wiser grownup who takes seriously his role as paterfamilias. Readers get an intimate look at his sexual awakening and how it infuses his everyday life. When Paul tells Kevin that he’s gay, Kevin retreats emotionally, immaturely, and out of ignorance. After Paul and his gay friend save Kevin from a playground beating, Kevin’s mind changes. Paul successfully sums up the week by asking Kevin, “We cool or what? I’m your uncle. It’s not like I’m gonna try and make you my boyfriend.”
Verdict Terry’s unsentimental bildungsroman will grow on readers as they adjust to Kevin’s voice, and anyone with a heart will appreciate his genuine maturation. This is an excellent value at a bargain price.
Find this review and others at Books for Dudes, Books for Dudes, the online reader's advisory column for men from Library Journal. Copyright Library Journal
Verdict Terry’s unsentimental bildungsroman will grow on readers as they adjust to Kevin’s voice, and anyone with a heart will appreciate his genuine maturation. This is an excellent value at a bargain price.
Find this review and others at Books for Dudes, Books for Dudes, the online reader's advisory column for men from Library Journal. Copyright Library Journal
January 10, 2014
One of the most unusual realistic teen novels I've ever read -- the author made a strange choice to narrate some chapters in the voice of the protagonist's gay uncle. Usually, you don't see inside any adult's perspective in a teen book, must less a gay uncle who hangs out at bars and ogles a cute hairdresser in like, chapter 3. So, that may blow some kid's minds or put them off.
I hope not tho, because the chapters from the kid's point of view are hilarious and really deeply felt. Protagonist Kevin is a chubby nerd from Richmond who only has one friend. He's got bully problems, invisibility to girls problems and style problems. This book portrays his likeable nerdery deep from the inside. I love the description of one lonely Friday night he spent alone when his mom went to see the OJays and his social-climbing sister ditched him for a night with the real teenagers. He wishes that a giant party would emerge when he opens the refrigerator door, but alas, no hot girls in fishnets appear. The kid has been watching too many 90s beer commercials.
There's also a wonderful, life changing Saturday at the mall that really serves as the climax of the book. The 90s teen experience is really captured here. I would certainly recommend this to any Gen Xers who want some pitch perfect nostalgia or any teens who like funny books and can be mature about the gay uncle content.
I hope not tho, because the chapters from the kid's point of view are hilarious and really deeply felt. Protagonist Kevin is a chubby nerd from Richmond who only has one friend. He's got bully problems, invisibility to girls problems and style problems. This book portrays his likeable nerdery deep from the inside. I love the description of one lonely Friday night he spent alone when his mom went to see the OJays and his social-climbing sister ditched him for a night with the real teenagers. He wishes that a giant party would emerge when he opens the refrigerator door, but alas, no hot girls in fishnets appear. The kid has been watching too many 90s beer commercials.
There's also a wonderful, life changing Saturday at the mall that really serves as the climax of the book. The 90s teen experience is really captured here. I would certainly recommend this to any Gen Xers who want some pitch perfect nostalgia or any teens who like funny books and can be mature about the gay uncle content.
August 28, 2014
How many people can look at some of the most formative moments in their early teenage years and say that almost all of it happened in the span of a week? Allow me to introduce you to Kevin, a middle school kid from inner city Richmond, VA, in the mid 1990s dealing with all the trappings that life throws at him. From his mom re-entering the dating world for the first time since the abrupt departure of his dad to the entanglements of having a high school-aged sister to trying to be cool to impress your first girlfriend to balancing this burgeoning love life with hanging out with your best friend to avoiding being pounded to a pulp at school by the token bully. Oh, and Kevin's Uncle Paul is gay. Did I forget to mention that?
It's an exhilarating romp through the rough and tumble teenage years and how Kevin does (or does not) deal with it. Written mostly from Kevin's point of view but occasionally interspersed with Paul's own POV, this is a great look at life. And, even though he may be from the inner city, his lessons learned can apply to all of us regardless of background.
It's an exhilarating romp through the rough and tumble teenage years and how Kevin does (or does not) deal with it. Written mostly from Kevin's point of view but occasionally interspersed with Paul's own POV, this is a great look at life. And, even though he may be from the inner city, his lessons learned can apply to all of us regardless of background.
August 20, 2013
Kevin is in middle school back in the 1990’s trying to look good (especially after getting a jacked up haircut), get a lady, avoid bullies and just get through each day the inner city of Richmond, Virginia. His mom works, goes to school and keeps their family running and his older sister Laura is in high school now and she seems to be getting into some shady things. Kevin’s Uncle Paul used to be like a father figure to him, but now he’s just come out to Kevin. Kevin isn’t sure what to think, especially since Kevin and his classmate throw out gay and faggot out as insults on a daily basis. Zero Fade is a funny read with all of Kevin antics, but at the same time Kevin is dealing with a lot of issues that many teens can relate to from friendship and family issues to how to deal with rejection. Definitely worth checking out especially if you’re a fan of realistic fiction (with some laughs).
August 10, 2016
Here are the things I did not like about this book: (1) I did not find it humorous, (2) I did not like the vernacular narration, and (3) I was mostly bored and just wanted it to end. Most people loved it. Kevin Phifer is an average middle school black kid in a small city, from a broken home, socially awkward, being bullied a bit, trying to come to grips with his own sexuality and getting a girlfriend, while his primary male role model (Uncle Paul) is trying to figure out how to tell Kevin that he is gay.
September 11, 2013
Great slice of preteen boydom. Really feels like middle school- in a good way. Super fast read, too. Love it!
October 25, 2013
Favorite thing I've ever made as a publisher. Period. When my boy hits his teen years he will be reading this book first and foremost.
September 19, 2013
The following review has been copied from http://behnamriahi.tumblr.com
Zero Fade, written by Chris L. Terry and published by Curbside Splendor, is a novel from the point-of-views of Kevin, a middle-school boy who wants to get laid and laugh at some good jokes, and Paul, Kevin’s uncle and a museum security guard. Set in urban Richmond, VA during the early 90s, Kevin gets pushed around a lot—especially by Tyrell, a kid from his class with a shitty attitude who accuses Kevin of being gay. As Kevin succumbs to the peer pressure of homophobia, Paul’s sudden emotional distance toward his nephew comes as a result of being a closeted homosexual himself and Kevin had a hard enough time getting used to the sweet fade haircut from Paul’s gay friend. So while trying to hook up with Aisha, keeping it real with his best friend David, or fighting with his mama, Kevin’s world is turned upside down as he learns the value of tolerance in a world without any.
I happen to know this author from college. We’ve gotten into it once or twice because I’ve been known to be a little loose-lipped and vulgar, but I have the utmost respect for him. Chris L. Terry is also a multi-cultural leader at Columbia College Chicago and fairly dependable guy, humble enough that you can get a drink with him but hopeful enough that he’s made his dreams come true. If there’s one peer whose book I’ve been looking forward to reading in the past year, it would have to be his and, though I’ll remain unbiased for the rest of his review, I’ll have to say I’m quite pleased.
Terry is a master with point-of-view, not because the story shifts points-of-view cleanly, but because he found a point-of-view he liked and he fucking nailed the voice. Told from the first-person point-of-view of Kevin for most of the book, we’re not only immersed in his urban dialect (though calling it a dialect might be a bit of a stretch—the language is American-English, but rife with slang and structurally unsound, as is common with youth these days), we see things as Kevin sees them—for instance, many authors immediately note the ethnicity of a character deviating from their own ethnicity, and the character of Kevin is no different. Even Fitzgerald and Salinger differentiated black people from the rest of the cast, but Terry does the opposite—Kevin acknowledges the different white people he meets, while the rest of the cast remains ethnically ambiguous, though we can assume they’re black. This juxtaposition from former literary expectations enables us, as readers, to slip into Kevin’s beaten-up shoes rather quickly as we move along with his voice and his inner-monologue.
As a side note: I sincerely hate authors who choose to ignore race. Don’t give me that bullshit like they’re color-blind or they don’t see race—don’t pretend that when you see an Asian guy, you’re really just seeing a white guy with a different cultural background. It doesn’t fit with a story and it makes the novel seem virtually unimpressed by its narrator, as if the narrator meant nothing more than the vane, privileged self-expectations of its own author. My prime example for this is Twilight--a novel where the only characters with a described skin-tone are the gothy, pale vampires, and everyone else is supposed to be racially ambiguous. I went along with it at first, as if there wasn’t anyone that wasn’t white in the story. Much to my surprise, when I saw the film I realized how implausible that was. You want to write a book without defining anyone’s race, anymore than their hair color or eye color or so on? Go ahead—the world needs more shallow characters for half-written novels.
Now I’m not here to praise Chris Terry for his use of race, but race, dialect, and point-of-view all work toward the same angle in this piece—building the world these people live in. Though we don’t get a lot of deep, vivid descriptions about buildings in Richmond, we know what kind of community it is because of the people in the community and the way they perceive things. Though almost so remote that they’re inaccessible, we know that there’s other school besides the one Kevin attends, museums, shopping centers, and movie theaters, but these things aren’t immediately available and therefore exist outside of his bubble, which in itself defines as much as it is defined by the way Kevin perceives things around him, building to a climactic moment when Kevin watches his life fall apart and, to him, he couldn’t be further from the home he longed to escape.
Of course, the whole novel isn’t told from Kevin’s point-of-view—we also get a good chunk of Paul, though Paul’s story is told in third-person. Now I’m not sure if Terry aimed for symbolism (though I could ask, I suppose), but Paul’s third-person point-of-view poetically fits the character—after all, he’s a homosexual in the closet. In this day and age, could any other experience make you feel less in your own skin? Paul’s story is told quite similarly to Kevin’s though, with inner monologues and the occasional flashback. However, Paul does relieve the audience of the dialect using shifts of point-of-view. That’s not to say that Kevin’s point-of-view is exhausting in any way, but the two different voices make the book a quicker read and reestablishes the author’s authority too.
I think the most I can learn from this novel regarding point-of-view is the reasonable undercutting of sentimentality. Yes, Kevin gets hurt and sad and sometimes he cries, but he doesn’t romanticize everything as is the bane of most first-person narrations. At least not in the way that he himself wouldn’t romanticize things—it isn’t about winning the girl over and protecting her, it’s about feelin’ up her titties and getting to third base with her. For Kevin, that is what romantic love is supposed to be and not some tiring narration about how beautiful or perfect that one special girl is. Terry cuts the shit and delivers the story as the character sees it, without sinking into melodrama, and knows when to simply move the story forward and outside of the potential melodrama danger zones. Kevin and David get into a fight? Terry throws some action our way, a punch in the face or a high-five, and we’re saved from things getting too mushy. It’s the story as is, without the purple prose and endearment that so many authors write into their novels to their past lovers, and it’s better off for it.
Point-of-view aside, the story is engaging, funny, and moving, all at the same time. I encourage you to pick a copy up and see for yourself, because it’s one of the best things I’ve read in a long while. Except for the occasional mention of middle school masturbation. That kind of creeped me out.
Zero Fade, written by Chris L. Terry and published by Curbside Splendor, is a novel from the point-of-views of Kevin, a middle-school boy who wants to get laid and laugh at some good jokes, and Paul, Kevin’s uncle and a museum security guard. Set in urban Richmond, VA during the early 90s, Kevin gets pushed around a lot—especially by Tyrell, a kid from his class with a shitty attitude who accuses Kevin of being gay. As Kevin succumbs to the peer pressure of homophobia, Paul’s sudden emotional distance toward his nephew comes as a result of being a closeted homosexual himself and Kevin had a hard enough time getting used to the sweet fade haircut from Paul’s gay friend. So while trying to hook up with Aisha, keeping it real with his best friend David, or fighting with his mama, Kevin’s world is turned upside down as he learns the value of tolerance in a world without any.
I happen to know this author from college. We’ve gotten into it once or twice because I’ve been known to be a little loose-lipped and vulgar, but I have the utmost respect for him. Chris L. Terry is also a multi-cultural leader at Columbia College Chicago and fairly dependable guy, humble enough that you can get a drink with him but hopeful enough that he’s made his dreams come true. If there’s one peer whose book I’ve been looking forward to reading in the past year, it would have to be his and, though I’ll remain unbiased for the rest of his review, I’ll have to say I’m quite pleased.
Terry is a master with point-of-view, not because the story shifts points-of-view cleanly, but because he found a point-of-view he liked and he fucking nailed the voice. Told from the first-person point-of-view of Kevin for most of the book, we’re not only immersed in his urban dialect (though calling it a dialect might be a bit of a stretch—the language is American-English, but rife with slang and structurally unsound, as is common with youth these days), we see things as Kevin sees them—for instance, many authors immediately note the ethnicity of a character deviating from their own ethnicity, and the character of Kevin is no different. Even Fitzgerald and Salinger differentiated black people from the rest of the cast, but Terry does the opposite—Kevin acknowledges the different white people he meets, while the rest of the cast remains ethnically ambiguous, though we can assume they’re black. This juxtaposition from former literary expectations enables us, as readers, to slip into Kevin’s beaten-up shoes rather quickly as we move along with his voice and his inner-monologue.
As a side note: I sincerely hate authors who choose to ignore race. Don’t give me that bullshit like they’re color-blind or they don’t see race—don’t pretend that when you see an Asian guy, you’re really just seeing a white guy with a different cultural background. It doesn’t fit with a story and it makes the novel seem virtually unimpressed by its narrator, as if the narrator meant nothing more than the vane, privileged self-expectations of its own author. My prime example for this is Twilight--a novel where the only characters with a described skin-tone are the gothy, pale vampires, and everyone else is supposed to be racially ambiguous. I went along with it at first, as if there wasn’t anyone that wasn’t white in the story. Much to my surprise, when I saw the film I realized how implausible that was. You want to write a book without defining anyone’s race, anymore than their hair color or eye color or so on? Go ahead—the world needs more shallow characters for half-written novels.
Now I’m not here to praise Chris Terry for his use of race, but race, dialect, and point-of-view all work toward the same angle in this piece—building the world these people live in. Though we don’t get a lot of deep, vivid descriptions about buildings in Richmond, we know what kind of community it is because of the people in the community and the way they perceive things. Though almost so remote that they’re inaccessible, we know that there’s other school besides the one Kevin attends, museums, shopping centers, and movie theaters, but these things aren’t immediately available and therefore exist outside of his bubble, which in itself defines as much as it is defined by the way Kevin perceives things around him, building to a climactic moment when Kevin watches his life fall apart and, to him, he couldn’t be further from the home he longed to escape.
Of course, the whole novel isn’t told from Kevin’s point-of-view—we also get a good chunk of Paul, though Paul’s story is told in third-person. Now I’m not sure if Terry aimed for symbolism (though I could ask, I suppose), but Paul’s third-person point-of-view poetically fits the character—after all, he’s a homosexual in the closet. In this day and age, could any other experience make you feel less in your own skin? Paul’s story is told quite similarly to Kevin’s though, with inner monologues and the occasional flashback. However, Paul does relieve the audience of the dialect using shifts of point-of-view. That’s not to say that Kevin’s point-of-view is exhausting in any way, but the two different voices make the book a quicker read and reestablishes the author’s authority too.
I think the most I can learn from this novel regarding point-of-view is the reasonable undercutting of sentimentality. Yes, Kevin gets hurt and sad and sometimes he cries, but he doesn’t romanticize everything as is the bane of most first-person narrations. At least not in the way that he himself wouldn’t romanticize things—it isn’t about winning the girl over and protecting her, it’s about feelin’ up her titties and getting to third base with her. For Kevin, that is what romantic love is supposed to be and not some tiring narration about how beautiful or perfect that one special girl is. Terry cuts the shit and delivers the story as the character sees it, without sinking into melodrama, and knows when to simply move the story forward and outside of the potential melodrama danger zones. Kevin and David get into a fight? Terry throws some action our way, a punch in the face or a high-five, and we’re saved from things getting too mushy. It’s the story as is, without the purple prose and endearment that so many authors write into their novels to their past lovers, and it’s better off for it.
Point-of-view aside, the story is engaging, funny, and moving, all at the same time. I encourage you to pick a copy up and see for yourself, because it’s one of the best things I’ve read in a long while. Except for the occasional mention of middle school masturbation. That kind of creeped me out.
January 29, 2020
Read much of this fun and moving novel on the treadmill at the Y with ‘80s pop being piped in, sending me a nostalgic trip that thankfully stopped in the ‘90s timeline of this book. I tried to get my son to read it when he was around the protagonist’s age, but he’s not much for books. He still has a copy of Camus’ The Plague I lent him, which he’s been reading for a couple of years and is halfway through. It took me only a couple of days to read Zero Fade. I’d been reading weirder, less linear stuff, and forgot how pulled into a good story well told I can get.
February 23, 2018
Meet thirteen year old Kevin. He lives in Richmond, Va. with his older sister (Laura) and mom and his Uncle Paul who is struggling with the idea of coming out to his nephew. This book is more than just a coming out story but of one that filled me with so much nostalgia. As a black guy who grew up in the '90's, like Kevin, when he mentions the recordings of The Simpsons from his good friend David, and very eager to see the new movie with Jim Carey, the guy from In Living Color. Instantly takes me back to my early teenage self trying to cope with feelings of keeping up with the cool kids in class, seeing girls in a different light and the stresses of homework & bullies. It's hard to be a young teenager! This book was just an all around feel good book to me. A definite must read.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
April 29, 2020
This was a slow starter for me but once I got about a third into it I wanted to keep reading. It’s set in Richmond in the early 90s, which is fun, and it’s possibly the only book I’ve read from the POV of a black teenager that isn’t centered on trauma and is just about being a teenager. Also, boys are idiots. Funny, relatable and makes me nervous about middle school again although I am 40.
June 18, 2017
Kevin is grounded for sassing his mama. He is crushing on Aisha. He is avoiding local bully Tyrell. Also, Kevin is letting down his best friend David. And he's hating on gay people, unaware that his beloved uncle Paul is gay.
April 22, 2019
Delightful Read for Old and Young!
Enjoyable, yet simple, story made real and relatable to readers of all ages. Chris tells a touching story, through the eyes of faulted yet likable characters, that I will eagerly recommend to my teenage son.
Enjoyable, yet simple, story made real and relatable to readers of all ages. Chris tells a touching story, through the eyes of faulted yet likable characters, that I will eagerly recommend to my teenage son.
July 24, 2017
Really enjoyed this.
August 20, 2019
It's a cute YA read.
July 3, 2021
Amazing read. Took me back to being a teen in the 90s.
January 3, 2015
Zero Fade by Chris Terry
Published by Curbside Splendor, Chicago, IL.
September 2013
(Only published digitally and as an oddly small paperback- 5.9 x 4 inches.)
Age Range: 13-Adult
It is the mid 90’s in inner city Richmond; Kevin is in 7th grade and for nine days in April we are too. Saturday morning and Kevin is getting a haircut in the basement from his Mama when what he really wants is a wack fade and a chance to spend Saturday with someone fine, like orange-haired Aisha. While his dad is no longer around, Kevin has a tight family, a mom going to school and holding a job, an older sister Laura and an admired uncle Paul: his mom’s baby brother. While Kevin narrates most chapters, Paul gets a turn too. He’s gay and he knows it’s time to tell his nephew; problem is his nephew: pining to be cool, desperate to get with a girl and a fan of Eddie Murphy’s gay bashing humor, doesn’t seem ready to hear what he has to say. Add into the mix Kevin’s inability to control his smart mouth, getting grounded, a classic bully, the nastiness of his mother getting a date before he does and an ill-advised adventure with his sister, and Kevin has a full week.
Terry has written a hilariously funny, honest, warm and believable YA novel that easily crosses over with adults. It is a rare book that manages to make the YouthLibraries.org In the Margins award list of “the best books for teens living in poverty, on the streets, in custody - or a cycle of all three” and win over a diverse range of folk on Goodreads: from self identified ‘old ladies’ to those who don’t even like YA.
Zero Fade comes across as genuine, surprising and very recognizable- “crying in school is like peeing yourself. It feels good to get it out, but you wind up with a bigger problem.” Thank heavens Kevin is a winningly imperfect teen, with virtually nothing figured out. He fantasizes about being a stand up comic and wonders “[w]hat about my life would be funny later? Not getting any? No cable?” The book is packed with vernacular language, fresh observation and a complete lack of didacticism. When his uncle Paul gives him some good advice: “I mean, just keep doing your thing. There’s always gonna be someone wanna say something, so just do you.” Kevin rightly thinks “[b]ut I’ve been doing me and it ain’t working.”
One of the things I kept thinking about as we read this weeks articles was the salient point Michael Cart makes in Chapter 9: “-but most of all the sale of multicultural books simply isn’t generating enough dollars to entice publishers to significantly expand their offerings.” They aren’t making money because they aren’t selling and if my library is representative they mostly aren’t circulating well either. * Obviously there are exceptions, but I wondered if on some level we’ve conditioned kids to think if there is a brown face on the cover it is a heavy book. I wonder of one of the reasons Zero Fade is published as a paperback, with green cartoony characters on the cover, and in an odd small configuration, is to distinguish it from all the earnest hardbacks.
What I love about Zero Fade is it has a strong sense of ethnicity and place. It deals with substantive issues. It is frank. It is also very, very funny, very human and very relatable. If I can get a single seventh grader to read it I am convinced I’ll get half the class. Likely this won’t be without controversy as there is talk of titties and masturbation and lots of language inappropriate to school. I wonder if this is why this first novel by Terry didn’t win the Coretta Scott King John Steptoe award for new talent. Never the less I am convinced this exactly the kind of multicultural literature we need for kids, both for those who see Kevin in their reflection and for those who see Kevin in themselves on reflection.
Published by Curbside Splendor, Chicago, IL.
September 2013
(Only published digitally and as an oddly small paperback- 5.9 x 4 inches.)
Age Range: 13-Adult
It is the mid 90’s in inner city Richmond; Kevin is in 7th grade and for nine days in April we are too. Saturday morning and Kevin is getting a haircut in the basement from his Mama when what he really wants is a wack fade and a chance to spend Saturday with someone fine, like orange-haired Aisha. While his dad is no longer around, Kevin has a tight family, a mom going to school and holding a job, an older sister Laura and an admired uncle Paul: his mom’s baby brother. While Kevin narrates most chapters, Paul gets a turn too. He’s gay and he knows it’s time to tell his nephew; problem is his nephew: pining to be cool, desperate to get with a girl and a fan of Eddie Murphy’s gay bashing humor, doesn’t seem ready to hear what he has to say. Add into the mix Kevin’s inability to control his smart mouth, getting grounded, a classic bully, the nastiness of his mother getting a date before he does and an ill-advised adventure with his sister, and Kevin has a full week.
Terry has written a hilariously funny, honest, warm and believable YA novel that easily crosses over with adults. It is a rare book that manages to make the YouthLibraries.org In the Margins award list of “the best books for teens living in poverty, on the streets, in custody - or a cycle of all three” and win over a diverse range of folk on Goodreads: from self identified ‘old ladies’ to those who don’t even like YA.
Zero Fade comes across as genuine, surprising and very recognizable- “crying in school is like peeing yourself. It feels good to get it out, but you wind up with a bigger problem.” Thank heavens Kevin is a winningly imperfect teen, with virtually nothing figured out. He fantasizes about being a stand up comic and wonders “[w]hat about my life would be funny later? Not getting any? No cable?” The book is packed with vernacular language, fresh observation and a complete lack of didacticism. When his uncle Paul gives him some good advice: “I mean, just keep doing your thing. There’s always gonna be someone wanna say something, so just do you.” Kevin rightly thinks “[b]ut I’ve been doing me and it ain’t working.”
One of the things I kept thinking about as we read this weeks articles was the salient point Michael Cart makes in Chapter 9: “-but most of all the sale of multicultural books simply isn’t generating enough dollars to entice publishers to significantly expand their offerings.” They aren’t making money because they aren’t selling and if my library is representative they mostly aren’t circulating well either. * Obviously there are exceptions, but I wondered if on some level we’ve conditioned kids to think if there is a brown face on the cover it is a heavy book. I wonder of one of the reasons Zero Fade is published as a paperback, with green cartoony characters on the cover, and in an odd small configuration, is to distinguish it from all the earnest hardbacks.
What I love about Zero Fade is it has a strong sense of ethnicity and place. It deals with substantive issues. It is frank. It is also very, very funny, very human and very relatable. If I can get a single seventh grader to read it I am convinced I’ll get half the class. Likely this won’t be without controversy as there is talk of titties and masturbation and lots of language inappropriate to school. I wonder if this is why this first novel by Terry didn’t win the Coretta Scott King John Steptoe award for new talent. Never the less I am convinced this exactly the kind of multicultural literature we need for kids, both for those who see Kevin in their reflection and for those who see Kevin in themselves on reflection.
May 6, 2014
3.5 to 4 stars.
I was thrilled to win Chris L. Terry's book in a Goodreads book giveaway because it's set in 1994 inner-city Richmond and I was intrigued by the characters and their circumstances. It packs a punch with its small, pocket size of 4x6-inches. Zero Fade's value lies in its ability to capture the nuances of dialogue and voice among inner city youth - especially of its main character, thirteen-year-old Kevin Phifer during his eight-day run from a bully named Tyrell.
Zero Fade is a coming-of-age story, one that I'd suggest to the 13+ crowd (middle school and older). The story involves bullying, friendship, interests in dating, worries about getting in trouble with Mama . . . it's all in there in this heart-warming story about a boy on the streets of a bustling city.
I'm a fan of this writer and am buying a few copies of Zero Fade to donate to a writer's program that runs in Richmond City for inner city youth because I believe this story will reach many aspiring writers living in Richmond City today. I did find myself questioning the writer's choice to keep the story set in 1994 (today's middle- and high- school readers won't know about Thalheimers, etc.) - was it because 1994 was the year the writer lived this story and this is therefore more memoir than fiction? I read wanting to learn why 1994 (twenty years ago) was important to the story, and/or characters. Would the reader come away from the story learning something about this time period - a feeling that this story had to be told twenty years ago, or could this story have been set in present day Richmond?
That said, the main character, Kevin, is wonderful and every time he stands up to Tyrell I cheered.
"...The basketball was stopped on the floor, halfway between me and Tyrell, sitting there stupid like it had no idea of the grief it was causing. Tyrell was still carrying on about free throws. I looked at how his belly bounced while he hopped on his toes and hated him more than I hated anyone since third grade, when I realized Pop wasn't coming back. No Tyrell would equal no problems. I yelled, "You fouled me, man!" And, like always happens when I get mad, my voice moved from a croak to a squeak, and I clapped my lips shut. I'd never yelled in class. Tyrell got blurry, and I automatically reached both hands up to wipe my eyes, then realized that I looked like a crying cartoon baby with tears shooting out. Everyone was watching, necks cokced, eyes, wide, mouths hanging. For a second, I felt proud of showing the room that I could be bad too, but then I realized they thought I was crying. I wasn't. It was silent in the room, but there'd be noise any second."
I received a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.
I was thrilled to win Chris L. Terry's book in a Goodreads book giveaway because it's set in 1994 inner-city Richmond and I was intrigued by the characters and their circumstances. It packs a punch with its small, pocket size of 4x6-inches. Zero Fade's value lies in its ability to capture the nuances of dialogue and voice among inner city youth - especially of its main character, thirteen-year-old Kevin Phifer during his eight-day run from a bully named Tyrell.
Zero Fade is a coming-of-age story, one that I'd suggest to the 13+ crowd (middle school and older). The story involves bullying, friendship, interests in dating, worries about getting in trouble with Mama . . . it's all in there in this heart-warming story about a boy on the streets of a bustling city.
I'm a fan of this writer and am buying a few copies of Zero Fade to donate to a writer's program that runs in Richmond City for inner city youth because I believe this story will reach many aspiring writers living in Richmond City today. I did find myself questioning the writer's choice to keep the story set in 1994 (today's middle- and high- school readers won't know about Thalheimers, etc.) - was it because 1994 was the year the writer lived this story and this is therefore more memoir than fiction? I read wanting to learn why 1994 (twenty years ago) was important to the story, and/or characters. Would the reader come away from the story learning something about this time period - a feeling that this story had to be told twenty years ago, or could this story have been set in present day Richmond?
That said, the main character, Kevin, is wonderful and every time he stands up to Tyrell I cheered.
"...The basketball was stopped on the floor, halfway between me and Tyrell, sitting there stupid like it had no idea of the grief it was causing. Tyrell was still carrying on about free throws. I looked at how his belly bounced while he hopped on his toes and hated him more than I hated anyone since third grade, when I realized Pop wasn't coming back. No Tyrell would equal no problems. I yelled, "You fouled me, man!" And, like always happens when I get mad, my voice moved from a croak to a squeak, and I clapped my lips shut. I'd never yelled in class. Tyrell got blurry, and I automatically reached both hands up to wipe my eyes, then realized that I looked like a crying cartoon baby with tears shooting out. Everyone was watching, necks cokced, eyes, wide, mouths hanging. For a second, I felt proud of showing the room that I could be bad too, but then I realized they thought I was crying. I wasn't. It was silent in the room, but there'd be noise any second."
I received a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.
January 8, 2014
This is a fantastic young adult novel. Written with a credible voice and lots of humor, it tells the story of a week or so in the life of 13-year old African-American Kevin Phifer and his attempts to navigate early adolescence and initiation into masculinity, while, parallel to his concerns, he is about to learn that his beloved uncle and role model for masculinity is what he thinks is the worst thing in the world: a gay man.
Chris Terry captures the goofy sexual obsessions and queer tensions of 13-year old boy in his tale, and makes great use of timely references to 1990s popular culture (the novel is set in 1994) like The Mask, and The Simpsons and a love of one the greatest stand-up routines of all-time, Eddie Murphy's Delirious, which has its own problematic relationship to queerness, even as its sexually potent and ridiculous figure of Murphy in his tight red leather outfit makes us wonder - already an artifact of a by-gone age by the time Kevin gets his hands on it.
My only complaint about the book is how its climactic scene uses violence as a way to normalize gayness in Kevin's eyes, when his uncle and boyfriend come to his rescue from an assualt by bullies. While I understand that such a scheme for understanding masculine belonging is within both the narrow views of a 13-year old boy and the narrow views of our own hyper-violent culture, I was hoping that Zero Fade could use its abundant imagination and humor to trace out a different way to bring Kevin's uncle Paul back in line with his nephew's goodwill.
There are lots of nice touches in the book that this review cannot give justice to, like how Kevin's older sister's ex-boyfriend served a masculine role model, Kevin's relationship with his friend David, our looks into Uncle Paul's world at the bar and at his job.
Overall, I highly recommend this book, not only for adolescents, but for adults who appreciate a coming of age story - esp. those who might have come of age themselves in the late 80s or early to mid-90s.
Chris Terry captures the goofy sexual obsessions and queer tensions of 13-year old boy in his tale, and makes great use of timely references to 1990s popular culture (the novel is set in 1994) like The Mask, and The Simpsons and a love of one the greatest stand-up routines of all-time, Eddie Murphy's Delirious, which has its own problematic relationship to queerness, even as its sexually potent and ridiculous figure of Murphy in his tight red leather outfit makes us wonder - already an artifact of a by-gone age by the time Kevin gets his hands on it.
My only complaint about the book is how its climactic scene uses violence as a way to normalize gayness in Kevin's eyes, when his uncle and boyfriend come to his rescue from an assualt by bullies. While I understand that such a scheme for understanding masculine belonging is within both the narrow views of a 13-year old boy and the narrow views of our own hyper-violent culture, I was hoping that Zero Fade could use its abundant imagination and humor to trace out a different way to bring Kevin's uncle Paul back in line with his nephew's goodwill.
There are lots of nice touches in the book that this review cannot give justice to, like how Kevin's older sister's ex-boyfriend served a masculine role model, Kevin's relationship with his friend David, our looks into Uncle Paul's world at the bar and at his job.
Overall, I highly recommend this book, not only for adolescents, but for adults who appreciate a coming of age story - esp. those who might have come of age themselves in the late 80s or early to mid-90s.
December 29, 2013
I think maybe this one was done in for me by the praise I'd read about it before I started, and the fact that I'm not all that into YA books. I liked the characters here, especially narrator Kevin, and his sister and her ways really reminded me of my sister, in the way she'd alternately tease and lure into more mature behaviors. The writing is good, and felt authentic in the way it deployed slang. But I didn't feel like it went to that elevated place, of feeling like I was hearing a new Huck Finn, which is kind of the bar that's been set, right, for voicey stuff like this? That or Holden Caulfield, but in terms of subject matter, this felt closer to Twain.
I say that because of the gay uncle subplot-- I thought that worked well enough on Kevin's side (though the beating his uncle and his uncle's friend give to the neighborhood bullies felt over the top). But the uncle himself feels too instrumental to the plot, not independent enough of Kevin's needs. I like the early stuff, with Izola, and the bit with the cake from the bar was also good and well-done. But the "relationship" with Xavier didn't feel motivated to me by anything but narrative need.
A book with some strong elements, but not one I'd consider overall that special.
I say that because of the gay uncle subplot-- I thought that worked well enough on Kevin's side (though the beating his uncle and his uncle's friend give to the neighborhood bullies felt over the top). But the uncle himself feels too instrumental to the plot, not independent enough of Kevin's needs. I like the early stuff, with Izola, and the bit with the cake from the bar was also good and well-done. But the "relationship" with Xavier didn't feel motivated to me by anything but narrative need.
A book with some strong elements, but not one I'd consider overall that special.
December 22, 2015
Kevin is a 13 year old in 7th grade who's testing his limits. He starts mouthing off to his mom, acting out in school and talking back to bullies.
His mom understands that he's growing up, but still wants to instill in him good values. His 15 year old sister is trying to act grown ever since she and her boyfriend broke up. Lucky for Kevin, his Uncle Paul is still around. He needs to learn how to act like a man now that he's growing up.
But what Kevin doesn't know is that Paul is gay. He's out to his sister and friends, but tends to keep his sexuality private, and hasn't found a good way to bring it up to Kevin.
The story is told through two different sets of eyes - Kevin in first person and Paul in third person. Each chapter reflects one day in a little over a week. In this time, Kevin gets bullied, turned down for a date, learns that his uncle is gay and ditches his best friend at the movies. Paul goes on a date, tells Kevin he's gay and gets into a fight with some teenagers who beat up his nephew.
Laugh out loud at parts, and heartbreaking at others, this is the story of two males growing up and getting used to who they are. It's a great read and would be a fantastic addition to any library.
His mom understands that he's growing up, but still wants to instill in him good values. His 15 year old sister is trying to act grown ever since she and her boyfriend broke up. Lucky for Kevin, his Uncle Paul is still around. He needs to learn how to act like a man now that he's growing up.
But what Kevin doesn't know is that Paul is gay. He's out to his sister and friends, but tends to keep his sexuality private, and hasn't found a good way to bring it up to Kevin.
The story is told through two different sets of eyes - Kevin in first person and Paul in third person. Each chapter reflects one day in a little over a week. In this time, Kevin gets bullied, turned down for a date, learns that his uncle is gay and ditches his best friend at the movies. Paul goes on a date, tells Kevin he's gay and gets into a fight with some teenagers who beat up his nephew.
Laugh out loud at parts, and heartbreaking at others, this is the story of two males growing up and getting used to who they are. It's a great read and would be a fantastic addition to any library.
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