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Sam Abernathy #1
The Size of the Truth
A boy who spent three days trapped in a well tries to overcome his PTSD and claustrophobia so he can fulfill his dream of becoming a famous chef in this charming novel that is Andrew Smith’s first foray into middle grade storytelling.
When he was four years old, Sam Abernathy was trapped at the bottom of a well for three days, where he was teased by a smart-aleck armadillo named Bartleby. Since then, his parents plan every move he makes.
But Sam doesn’t like their plans. He doesn’t want to go to MIT. And he doesn’t want to skip two grades, being stuck in the eighth grade as an eleven-year-old with James Jenkins, the boy he’s sure pushed him into the well in the first place. He wants to be a chef. And he’s going to start by entering the first annual Blue Creek Days Colonel Jenkins Macaroni and Cheese Cook-Off.
That is, if he can survive eighth grade, and figure out the size of the truth that has slipped Sam’s memory for seven years.
When he was four years old, Sam Abernathy was trapped at the bottom of a well for three days, where he was teased by a smart-aleck armadillo named Bartleby. Since then, his parents plan every move he makes.
But Sam doesn’t like their plans. He doesn’t want to go to MIT. And he doesn’t want to skip two grades, being stuck in the eighth grade as an eleven-year-old with James Jenkins, the boy he’s sure pushed him into the well in the first place. He wants to be a chef. And he’s going to start by entering the first annual Blue Creek Days Colonel Jenkins Macaroni and Cheese Cook-Off.
That is, if he can survive eighth grade, and figure out the size of the truth that has slipped Sam’s memory for seven years.
266 pages, Hardcover
First published March 26, 2019
13 people are currently reading
1336 people want to read
About the author
Andrew Smith
19 books1,708 followersAndrew Smith is the author of Winger, Grasshopper Jungle, The Alex Crow, 100 Sideways Miles, and Rabbit & Robot, among others. Exile from Eden: Or, After the Hole, the long-awaited sequel to Grasshopper Jungle, is coming from Simon & Schuster on September 24, 2019.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 125 reviews
July 26, 2019
I (excuse me) hated sixth grade. So I was hesitant to read a book about Sam, who, "during the first week of sixth grade at Dick Dowling Middle School, they brought me in for tests, and then they brought me in for tests again, and again after that, until I found myself in eighth grade, surrounded by giants and talking monsters with acne."
I (excuse me) can't think of anything worse, unless it's One Introvert's Year of Saying Yes.
But my friend Emily wrote an irresistible little review (here), so I just had to give it a try. And that cover! You stand a good chance of being able to judge YA books by their cover.
Sam is definitely one quirky kid, but I was rooting for him all the way. Plus, I completely understood his journey to create a perfect mac-n-cheese (orecchiete with Gorgonzola, pears, and prosciutto). I couldn't help wish he'd stand up for himself once in awhile--my own terminal case of sass was well-developed by middle-school--but it made his approach all the more curious. Hoo-boy, was his approach interesting. What a goofball. (Excuse me.) Which he says instead of swearing.
The main peripheral characters were his dad--and it quickly becomes apparent that Quirky is genetically linked--an armadillo that may or may not be imaginary; and the indirect cause of his fall in the well, James Jenkins. I laughed out loud when he described the would-be murderer:
"It starts when you're afraid of things but can't really explain why.
James Jenkins walks like a murderer. He combs his hair like a murderer. James Jenkins chews Goldfish crackers for a really long time, which is something only a murderer would do."
Emily was right; it's a sweet, bizarre little book, and I think I'd easily gift it to the right kid. It had me checking out Andrew Smith's other works, but it sounds like this one may be the exception in balance. There's lots of words of wisdom for all ages in here, but unlike many YA books, it doesn't feel like Smith is an author with An Agenda. A delightful read that was a pleasant intermission from darker books.
I (excuse me) can't think of anything worse, unless it's One Introvert's Year of Saying Yes.
But my friend Emily wrote an irresistible little review (here), so I just had to give it a try. And that cover! You stand a good chance of being able to judge YA books by their cover.
Sam is definitely one quirky kid, but I was rooting for him all the way. Plus, I completely understood his journey to create a perfect mac-n-cheese (orecchiete with Gorgonzola, pears, and prosciutto). I couldn't help wish he'd stand up for himself once in awhile--my own terminal case of sass was well-developed by middle-school--but it made his approach all the more curious. Hoo-boy, was his approach interesting. What a goofball. (Excuse me.) Which he says instead of swearing.
The main peripheral characters were his dad--and it quickly becomes apparent that Quirky is genetically linked--an armadillo that may or may not be imaginary; and the indirect cause of his fall in the well, James Jenkins. I laughed out loud when he described the would-be murderer:
"It starts when you're afraid of things but can't really explain why.
James Jenkins walks like a murderer. He combs his hair like a murderer. James Jenkins chews Goldfish crackers for a really long time, which is something only a murderer would do."
Emily was right; it's a sweet, bizarre little book, and I think I'd easily gift it to the right kid. It had me checking out Andrew Smith's other works, but it sounds like this one may be the exception in balance. There's lots of words of wisdom for all ages in here, but unlike many YA books, it doesn't feel like Smith is an author with An Agenda. A delightful read that was a pleasant intermission from darker books.
March 9, 2021
“I was not good at figuring things out.”
Well, I may say my dear Sam Abernathy, that coming out with that on page 160 of The Size of the Truth is the (excuse me) understatement of the (excuse me) decade.
With that out of my system let me first say that this novel conflicted me. Therefore, don’t be surprised if my review of it conflicts you (ha! Just me passing the buck…).
It all started rather well. A dark well, a fallen boy, a talking armadillo… What else could I ask for? It was all too intriguing not to keep reading (more like devouring) this book. Add to the mix that the main character’s, Sam, voice—product of Andrew Smith’s superb writing skills—is about as good as they come, sounding just the right age, without turning the character it comes from into a cartoonish version of a boy or a whinny little brat, and I prepared myself to love this novel.
But then, I reached page 54 and started wondering, the voice in my head all the more nagging with each passing page, where is this going? And when are we getting there? Yet, I kept reading, albeit not as enthusiastically as before, as I felt myself losing patience while poor Sam endured one of his father’s Survivor weekends, camping almost naked and without a tent in the Texan wilderness (which, by experience, I can tell you is full of hungry mosquitoes and itch-producing plants), and while he dragged himself from one of his 8th grade class to the next, finding them all absolutely unappealing, since he's never wanted to be a genius physicist, as the high IQ that propelled him from the 6th to the 8th grade seems to indicate, but wishes to be a chef.
All along, one thing did become clear, have I be given the opportunity, I would line up every single adult character in this book and slap them hard, because they all deserve it. A father who tortures his son with survivalist trips, a mother who's just too happy to let the aforementioned father do as much, a teacher who thinks it’s cool to lock claustrophobic children in a tiny office, and in general, adults who don’t ever care to listen to their kids. (did I already mention I wanted to slap them all, hard?).
The one thing I did love from start to end was the animals, all of them. They talk. They’re witty. And they never let us realize how much of their substance is pure imagination mixed with sheer terror and how much is real. I like to believe there’s lots of real in there, but you may disagree with my assessment.
So, there I was, just trying to keep going when a friend of mine ask me what I was I reading at the moment. I mentioned this book and she said, “I don’t think you’ll find it very pleasant. You have no tolerance for character driven middle grade stories.”
And that’s when all became clear. Yes, I could not see where the story was going because this is a story about a boy coming to understand who he is and what he really wants. In other words, it's a story about growing, and where growing is the ultimate goal. A story so very different to the plot-driven middle grade books I generally like, where characters are more or less as grown as they need to be and the matter at hand revolves about solving a particular problem, call it a mystery, treasure hunt, rescue, or any other adventure type activity.
The thing is, just knowing the source of my impatience suddenly made the keep reading way easier. Also, I stopped paying much attention to the adults and focused on the kids, and was happily rewarded by Sam coming for the strongest closing I've read in a long time, in a chapter so honestly moving, I teared up a bit.
So, to conclude,
Would I recommend this book to a 11 yo? Absolutely.
Did I like it? Yes.
Is this my absolute cup of tea, middle grade-wise? No, not really.
Is it funny? At times, yes, a lot.
Should you read it? Well, I leave that up to you.
Well, I may say my dear Sam Abernathy, that coming out with that on page 160 of The Size of the Truth is the (excuse me) understatement of the (excuse me) decade.
With that out of my system let me first say that this novel conflicted me. Therefore, don’t be surprised if my review of it conflicts you (ha! Just me passing the buck…).
It all started rather well. A dark well, a fallen boy, a talking armadillo… What else could I ask for? It was all too intriguing not to keep reading (more like devouring) this book. Add to the mix that the main character’s, Sam, voice—product of Andrew Smith’s superb writing skills—is about as good as they come, sounding just the right age, without turning the character it comes from into a cartoonish version of a boy or a whinny little brat, and I prepared myself to love this novel.
But then, I reached page 54 and started wondering, the voice in my head all the more nagging with each passing page, where is this going? And when are we getting there? Yet, I kept reading, albeit not as enthusiastically as before, as I felt myself losing patience while poor Sam endured one of his father’s Survivor weekends, camping almost naked and without a tent in the Texan wilderness (which, by experience, I can tell you is full of hungry mosquitoes and itch-producing plants), and while he dragged himself from one of his 8th grade class to the next, finding them all absolutely unappealing, since he's never wanted to be a genius physicist, as the high IQ that propelled him from the 6th to the 8th grade seems to indicate, but wishes to be a chef.
All along, one thing did become clear, have I be given the opportunity, I would line up every single adult character in this book and slap them hard, because they all deserve it. A father who tortures his son with survivalist trips, a mother who's just too happy to let the aforementioned father do as much, a teacher who thinks it’s cool to lock claustrophobic children in a tiny office, and in general, adults who don’t ever care to listen to their kids. (did I already mention I wanted to slap them all, hard?).
The one thing I did love from start to end was the animals, all of them. They talk. They’re witty. And they never let us realize how much of their substance is pure imagination mixed with sheer terror and how much is real. I like to believe there’s lots of real in there, but you may disagree with my assessment.
So, there I was, just trying to keep going when a friend of mine ask me what I was I reading at the moment. I mentioned this book and she said, “I don’t think you’ll find it very pleasant. You have no tolerance for character driven middle grade stories.”
And that’s when all became clear. Yes, I could not see where the story was going because this is a story about a boy coming to understand who he is and what he really wants. In other words, it's a story about growing, and where growing is the ultimate goal. A story so very different to the plot-driven middle grade books I generally like, where characters are more or less as grown as they need to be and the matter at hand revolves about solving a particular problem, call it a mystery, treasure hunt, rescue, or any other adventure type activity.
The thing is, just knowing the source of my impatience suddenly made the keep reading way easier. Also, I stopped paying much attention to the adults and focused on the kids, and was happily rewarded by Sam coming for the strongest closing I've read in a long time, in a chapter so honestly moving, I teared up a bit.
So, to conclude,
Would I recommend this book to a 11 yo? Absolutely.
Did I like it? Yes.
Is this my absolute cup of tea, middle grade-wise? No, not really.
Is it funny? At times, yes, a lot.
Should you read it? Well, I leave that up to you.
November 19, 2024
What a sweet, bizarre little book. It was the perfect thing for me to take a day and read as a break from a long series reread I’ve been doing. I adore Sam Abernathy, and I hope the fact that this is numbered on Goodreads means there will be more books about him.
Andrew Smith has such an unusual way of approaching stories about growing up and dealing with trauma. His writing is imaginative, moving, and laugh-out-loud funny. Every time I saw (excuse me) in this book, it was timed perfectly to startle a laugh out of me.
I’ll be recommending the heck out of this one and buying it for the youngsters—and young at heart—in my life.
Andrew Smith has such an unusual way of approaching stories about growing up and dealing with trauma. His writing is imaginative, moving, and laugh-out-loud funny. Every time I saw (excuse me) in this book, it was timed perfectly to startle a laugh out of me.
I’ll be recommending the heck out of this one and buying it for the youngsters—and young at heart—in my life.
July 30, 2018
One of the great advantages of being a long-time bookseller is that sometimes you get really early peeks at books you're looking forward to. The downside is that you can't really talk about them except to say "Yup. I read that." This is one of those.
EDIT 07/30/2018:
Official ARCs are out in the world, so I can actually talk about this a bit now. And I'm going to be lazy and pretty much just share whole cloth what I sent to Andrew Smith and the good folks at Simon & Schuster after I'd read it:
Middle Grade is not my jam. I read it and enjoy a lot of it, but the kids always seem too old--like fifteen- or sixteen-year-olds--or too young. (Admittedly, I'm not around a lot of 8-12 year-olds, so my assessment may be off.) That disconnect between stated age and the age the character acts makes it hard for me to lose myself in the story. But, having Sam be a smart and precocious eleven allows him to be both wise-beyond-his-years and kind of dumb (especially about human interaction). So kudos to Smith for writing Sam in such a way that I wasn't constantly saying to myself "An 11-year-old would never say/do that." Not having that disconnect allowed me to just fall into (#sorrynotsorry) the story.
I suck at transitions. This is one of the (bajillionty) reasons I am not a writer.
Bartleby. Let's talk about Bartleby, the Chekov's gun of talking armadillos. Because, yes, as soon as he was introduced I was waiting for him to say it. It's not something the target audience will get (at least I hope to all that is good and kind that they are not teaching Melville in grade school), but I'm just imagining a teacher reading the book aloud to a class and getting to that part and having to explain why she's laughing to confused fourth-graders. At first I wondered whether Bartleby was real or a figment of Sam's imagination--a way to cope with his trauma--and then I realized that he was real to Sam whether he was tangible in the real world and I should just go with it, which allowed me to enjoy the whole Bartleby adventure as a rather twisted play on all those talking animal books. Also vision quests and—being underground—the Alice books. And, yes, in spite of the fact that Sam is trapped at the bottom of a dis-used well, these are my favorite parts because they are less traumatic than middle school.
And, gods, middle school is hard enough without being skipped ahead from 6th to 8th grade. And not even over the summer, but in the first week of school, so there's no time to gird one's loins or plead one's case for staying with other kids the same age. And then there are the awful survival camping trips. I mean, camping is bad enough (outside wants to kill you, gruesomely and a lot), but no tent, no food, no water, no shoes, ffs. I kinda hated Sam's dad for being so oblivious as to not notice that Sam was miserable on those trips. (Oblivious is the best option. If he knew and made Sam go anyway, that's like a thousand times worse.) But the horrible, horrifying camping really serves to emphasize--in bold, bug-bitten type--the core idea of parental and societal expectations, especially regarding masculinity.
I loved that Sam and James both had passions and pursuits that were at odds with what their fathers expected of them and even at odds with what their outer appearances led others to expect of them. Sam is smart and small, so science and math and computers and engineering are obviously what he should be interested in. Likewise, James is big and intimidating so he must love and be awesome at football. Yet both boys have as their passions the traditionally feminine pursuits of cooking and dance, respectively. (Though we could get into the whole "cooking is for girls" except as it applies to the professional kitchen, which is still very much a man's world. Women cook, men "chef". That's changing, albeit slowly, but men are still the most visible and celebrated of the celebrity chefs. Obviously, I have feelings about restaurant and chef culture and there are reasons, as much as I love to cook, that I never pursued that as a career.) They're also generally less-lucrative careers (and, again, we get into "women's work" being valued less than traditionally masculine jobs, though football players would be among the first to tell you how f*cking brutal ballet is). The only thing I wished was that Sam would make more of a connection to his dad about the intersection of STEM fields to cooking. With the number of books exploring the science of cooking, there was an opportunity here that was missed, in my opinion. But, then again, Sam's eleven, so those arguments may not have occurred to him.
And, look, I know this is Sam's book, but can I just say how much I f*cking loved James? This big, hulking kid who loved to dance and whose favourite book is Dune and who is just absolutely not at all what everyone thinks he is? I am that selfish reader who, as soon as I turned the last page, wanted nothing more than to pick up a book about James and his career in dance. I want the harsh brutality of professional dance school as only Andrew Smith could write it.
EDIT 07/30/2018:
Official ARCs are out in the world, so I can actually talk about this a bit now. And I'm going to be lazy and pretty much just share whole cloth what I sent to Andrew Smith and the good folks at Simon & Schuster after I'd read it:
Middle Grade is not my jam. I read it and enjoy a lot of it, but the kids always seem too old--like fifteen- or sixteen-year-olds--or too young. (Admittedly, I'm not around a lot of 8-12 year-olds, so my assessment may be off.) That disconnect between stated age and the age the character acts makes it hard for me to lose myself in the story. But, having Sam be a smart and precocious eleven allows him to be both wise-beyond-his-years and kind of dumb (especially about human interaction). So kudos to Smith for writing Sam in such a way that I wasn't constantly saying to myself "An 11-year-old would never say/do that." Not having that disconnect allowed me to just fall into (#sorrynotsorry) the story.
I suck at transitions. This is one of the (bajillionty) reasons I am not a writer.
Bartleby. Let's talk about Bartleby, the Chekov's gun of talking armadillos. Because, yes, as soon as he was introduced I was waiting for him to say it. It's not something the target audience will get (at least I hope to all that is good and kind that they are not teaching Melville in grade school), but I'm just imagining a teacher reading the book aloud to a class and getting to that part and having to explain why she's laughing to confused fourth-graders. At first I wondered whether Bartleby was real or a figment of Sam's imagination--a way to cope with his trauma--and then I realized that he was real to Sam whether he was tangible in the real world and I should just go with it, which allowed me to enjoy the whole Bartleby adventure as a rather twisted play on all those talking animal books. Also vision quests and—being underground—the Alice books. And, yes, in spite of the fact that Sam is trapped at the bottom of a dis-used well, these are my favorite parts because they are less traumatic than middle school.
And, gods, middle school is hard enough without being skipped ahead from 6th to 8th grade. And not even over the summer, but in the first week of school, so there's no time to gird one's loins or plead one's case for staying with other kids the same age. And then there are the awful survival camping trips. I mean, camping is bad enough (outside wants to kill you, gruesomely and a lot), but no tent, no food, no water, no shoes, ffs. I kinda hated Sam's dad for being so oblivious as to not notice that Sam was miserable on those trips. (Oblivious is the best option. If he knew and made Sam go anyway, that's like a thousand times worse.) But the horrible, horrifying camping really serves to emphasize--in bold, bug-bitten type--the core idea of parental and societal expectations, especially regarding masculinity.
I loved that Sam and James both had passions and pursuits that were at odds with what their fathers expected of them and even at odds with what their outer appearances led others to expect of them. Sam is smart and small, so science and math and computers and engineering are obviously what he should be interested in. Likewise, James is big and intimidating so he must love and be awesome at football. Yet both boys have as their passions the traditionally feminine pursuits of cooking and dance, respectively. (Though we could get into the whole "cooking is for girls" except as it applies to the professional kitchen, which is still very much a man's world. Women cook, men "chef". That's changing, albeit slowly, but men are still the most visible and celebrated of the celebrity chefs. Obviously, I have feelings about restaurant and chef culture and there are reasons, as much as I love to cook, that I never pursued that as a career.) They're also generally less-lucrative careers (and, again, we get into "women's work" being valued less than traditionally masculine jobs, though football players would be among the first to tell you how f*cking brutal ballet is). The only thing I wished was that Sam would make more of a connection to his dad about the intersection of STEM fields to cooking. With the number of books exploring the science of cooking, there was an opportunity here that was missed, in my opinion. But, then again, Sam's eleven, so those arguments may not have occurred to him.
And, look, I know this is Sam's book, but can I just say how much I f*cking loved James? This big, hulking kid who loved to dance and whose favourite book is Dune and who is just absolutely not at all what everyone thinks he is? I am that selfish reader who, as soon as I turned the last page, wanted nothing more than to pick up a book about James and his career in dance. I want the harsh brutality of professional dance school as only Andrew Smith could write it.
May 11, 2020
Make no mistake: The Size of the Truth is a bizarre novel, as per usual for Andrew Smith. Certain phrases are repeated ad nauseam, it's difficult to tell whether the story ultimately makes sense, and the characters are a mix of neurotic personalities and hackneyed stereotypes. The fact that this is a middle-grade rather than YA novel, though, restrains Andrew Smith's wilder impulses; he avoids gratuitous grossness and nasty language, and the story promotes real values. Eleven-year-old Sam Abernathy has quite a history in his hometown of Blue Creek, Texas. At age four he fell down an abandoned well, and it took three days for massive machines to dig him out. As the drama unfolded, Sam's notoriety spread across the state, and crowds gathered in hopes of seeing him emerge alive from the well. In the years afterward, Sam realized he'll always be thought of in Blue Creek as that hapless kid, but his memory of those three days in subterranean darkness has always been fuzzy...until now.
An unusually bright student, Sam is already starting eighth grade at age eleven. His parents—especially his father—imagine him excelling in mathematics and science, entering a lucrative career in technology, but Sam loves to bake, preferring culinary experimentation over computer science. Sam knows his father disapproves, but Sam has a bigger problem: James Jenkins, a giant of a kid that Sam suspects is a murderer-in-waiting. James was indirectly responsible for Sam plunging down the well seven years ago, and he suspects James would finish him off if given the opportunity. As though eighth grade weren't stressful enough without having to worry about James.
"I think middle school is the time in life when you first start to develop the grown-up habit of pretending everything's fine when it really is not."
—The Size of the Truth, P. 18
"People need kindness as much as they need food to eat. Maybe more."
—Bartleby, The Size of the Truth, P. 228
There's a lot of small-town politics for Sam to navigate. James's father, Kenny, is a local restauranteur and critic who knows little about fine cuisine. That doesn't stop him from writing scathing reviews of every eatery in town, including a few dishes cooked up by Sam for the business the Abernathys own, Lily Putt's Indoor-Outdoor Miniature Golf Course. For the Blue Creek Days festival this year, Kenny Jenkins is sponsoring a Macaroni and Cheese Cook-Off, and Sam wants to enter and establish his reputation so he can attend culinary school. But is he willing to ignore the hurt in his father's eyes when Sam rejects a career in technology? As Sam contemplates the problem, an incident occurs that brings back a rush of memories from the days he spent stuck in the well, memories of an adventure with a talking armadillo named Bartleby. Did an armadillo claiming to be a unicorn actually lead Sam through a labyrinth of dirt tunnels, bumping into all manner of curiosities far underground? Or was Bartleby a coping mechanism in Sam's brain, buying time for the grownups to dig him out before claustrophobia shattered his psyche? These questions still linger by book's end, but Sam has new clarity about what he wants from life, including insight into the James Jenkins he never knew. Maybe he and the "murderer" are just two boys desperate to please their fathers, yet also wanting happiness for themselves. In the end, the person responsible for how your story turns out is you.
If you can cut through the psychedelic strangeness, The Size of the Truth derives deeper understanding from Sam's trauma in the well. The thought of letting his parents down horrified him at age four and still does, but Bartleby points out that living primarily to not offend others is a losing game plan. "If all you ever want to do in life is not disappoint people, well...where does that leave you, Sam?" You can't fashion your own dreams if you're preoccupied with fulfilling the ambitions others have for you; pursuing your own goals is essential to achieving a sense of purpose.
Like most of what Andrew Smith writes, The Size of the Truth is too eccentric for its own good, and the repetitious phrasing gets tedious. It's an improvement over The Alex Crow and Rabbit & Robot, though. James Jenkins feels like a wholly unoriginal character, and I struggle to grasp the meaning of the book, but I'll rate The Size of the Truth one and a half stars, and could be persuaded to consider the full two. I'm no Andrew Smith fan, but I find myself occasionally reading him anyway. I suppose that indicates something positive about his books, but I'm not sure what.
An unusually bright student, Sam is already starting eighth grade at age eleven. His parents—especially his father—imagine him excelling in mathematics and science, entering a lucrative career in technology, but Sam loves to bake, preferring culinary experimentation over computer science. Sam knows his father disapproves, but Sam has a bigger problem: James Jenkins, a giant of a kid that Sam suspects is a murderer-in-waiting. James was indirectly responsible for Sam plunging down the well seven years ago, and he suspects James would finish him off if given the opportunity. As though eighth grade weren't stressful enough without having to worry about James.
"I think middle school is the time in life when you first start to develop the grown-up habit of pretending everything's fine when it really is not."
—The Size of the Truth, P. 18
"People need kindness as much as they need food to eat. Maybe more."
—Bartleby, The Size of the Truth, P. 228
There's a lot of small-town politics for Sam to navigate. James's father, Kenny, is a local restauranteur and critic who knows little about fine cuisine. That doesn't stop him from writing scathing reviews of every eatery in town, including a few dishes cooked up by Sam for the business the Abernathys own, Lily Putt's Indoor-Outdoor Miniature Golf Course. For the Blue Creek Days festival this year, Kenny Jenkins is sponsoring a Macaroni and Cheese Cook-Off, and Sam wants to enter and establish his reputation so he can attend culinary school. But is he willing to ignore the hurt in his father's eyes when Sam rejects a career in technology? As Sam contemplates the problem, an incident occurs that brings back a rush of memories from the days he spent stuck in the well, memories of an adventure with a talking armadillo named Bartleby. Did an armadillo claiming to be a unicorn actually lead Sam through a labyrinth of dirt tunnels, bumping into all manner of curiosities far underground? Or was Bartleby a coping mechanism in Sam's brain, buying time for the grownups to dig him out before claustrophobia shattered his psyche? These questions still linger by book's end, but Sam has new clarity about what he wants from life, including insight into the James Jenkins he never knew. Maybe he and the "murderer" are just two boys desperate to please their fathers, yet also wanting happiness for themselves. In the end, the person responsible for how your story turns out is you.
If you can cut through the psychedelic strangeness, The Size of the Truth derives deeper understanding from Sam's trauma in the well. The thought of letting his parents down horrified him at age four and still does, but Bartleby points out that living primarily to not offend others is a losing game plan. "If all you ever want to do in life is not disappoint people, well...where does that leave you, Sam?" You can't fashion your own dreams if you're preoccupied with fulfilling the ambitions others have for you; pursuing your own goals is essential to achieving a sense of purpose.
Like most of what Andrew Smith writes, The Size of the Truth is too eccentric for its own good, and the repetitious phrasing gets tedious. It's an improvement over The Alex Crow and Rabbit & Robot, though. James Jenkins feels like a wholly unoriginal character, and I struggle to grasp the meaning of the book, but I'll rate The Size of the Truth one and a half stars, and could be persuaded to consider the full two. I'm no Andrew Smith fan, but I find myself occasionally reading him anyway. I suppose that indicates something positive about his books, but I'm not sure what.
March 22, 2019
This is my first Andrew Smith read and I am underwhelmed. Sam and James are both likable and the way their friendship develops is my favorite part of the story. What is with Bartleby the armadillo, though? Why does four-year-old Sam seem more like a preteen than a preschooler? And those (excuse me) stupid asides before every word that is questionable. Too much!
Thank you to Simon & Schuster and Edelweiss for a digital ARC in exchange for an honest review.
Thank you to Simon & Schuster and Edelweiss for a digital ARC in exchange for an honest review.
Want to read
August 23, 2017OH MY GOD
April 6, 2019
There is entirely too much to think about in this (excuse me) "children's book."
March 25, 2019
When Sam was four years old, he spent three days trapped in an abandoned well. From that day forward, he promised himself, that he would never worry or disappoint his parents again. As he grew older, he found that promise harder and harder to keep, as his parents' and his idea of his future began to diverge.
I don't think anyone understands how excited I was to see that Sam was getting his own series. I met Sam in Stand-off, and was eager to read more about young Sam's life. As expected, Smith delivered a story that was odd and interesting, as well as heartwarming and thoughtful.
Smith touches upon a myriad of issues, but there were two which stood out to me - a child's need for autonomy and being true to themself. You see, Sam loves to cook, and aspires to train with great chefs and create food that makes people happy, but his parents want him to got to MIT and study science or math or BOTH. They push him in academic pursuits, pushing him two grades ahead, though he was not socially or emotionally prepared for it.
I often found myself frustrated with Sam's parents, especially his father, but some of that was Sam's own fault. He kept going along with their plans, while abandoning his own. Slowly, while remembering his time in the hole and developing an unlikely friendship with James, who he had always blamed for his accident, Sam began to assert his own desires and needs, and I was really proud of the way he handled it.
I have to say, Smith really knows how to write a great bromance. I wasn't always on board with the James and Sam friendship, because I wasn't so sure about James, but as Smith revealed more and more about him, I found myself liking him more and more, as well as empathizing with him about the box he was trapped in. Watching Sam realize that he and James are more that same than different was a big moment in the story, and from there, their friendship grew and grew. And you know what? I totally loved James by the end of this book.
The time in the hole was odd, but I expect something strange, when I read an Andrew Smith book. The purpose of flipping between Sam's time in 8th grade and his time in the hole was not obvious, but becomes clearer as the story wears on. I enjoyed those parts, but I loved the last few chapters. I think I wore a smile on my face the from the first chapter during the Blue Creek Days section all the way through the end of the book.
It was quite a treat getting to know Sam better, and I am excited to read more of this series, because it looks like he's heading to Pine Mountain Academy in the next book, and I am so ready to go back there.
*ARC provided in exchange for an honest review.
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I don't think anyone understands how excited I was to see that Sam was getting his own series. I met Sam in Stand-off, and was eager to read more about young Sam's life. As expected, Smith delivered a story that was odd and interesting, as well as heartwarming and thoughtful.
Smith touches upon a myriad of issues, but there were two which stood out to me - a child's need for autonomy and being true to themself. You see, Sam loves to cook, and aspires to train with great chefs and create food that makes people happy, but his parents want him to got to MIT and study science or math or BOTH. They push him in academic pursuits, pushing him two grades ahead, though he was not socially or emotionally prepared for it.
I often found myself frustrated with Sam's parents, especially his father, but some of that was Sam's own fault. He kept going along with their plans, while abandoning his own. Slowly, while remembering his time in the hole and developing an unlikely friendship with James, who he had always blamed for his accident, Sam began to assert his own desires and needs, and I was really proud of the way he handled it.
I have to say, Smith really knows how to write a great bromance. I wasn't always on board with the James and Sam friendship, because I wasn't so sure about James, but as Smith revealed more and more about him, I found myself liking him more and more, as well as empathizing with him about the box he was trapped in. Watching Sam realize that he and James are more that same than different was a big moment in the story, and from there, their friendship grew and grew. And you know what? I totally loved James by the end of this book.
The time in the hole was odd, but I expect something strange, when I read an Andrew Smith book. The purpose of flipping between Sam's time in 8th grade and his time in the hole was not obvious, but becomes clearer as the story wears on. I enjoyed those parts, but I loved the last few chapters. I think I wore a smile on my face the from the first chapter during the Blue Creek Days section all the way through the end of the book.
It was quite a treat getting to know Sam better, and I am excited to read more of this series, because it looks like he's heading to Pine Mountain Academy in the next book, and I am so ready to go back there.
*ARC provided in exchange for an honest review.
BLOG | INSTAGRAM |TWITTER | BLOGLOVIN | FRIEND ME ON GOODREADS
November 25, 2019
I mean.....I am just completely incapable of rating an Andrew Smith book less than five stars. It just can't be done. By me. Although I will admit that I wasn't sure how he would do with a middle grade book, since his YA books seem so upper YA, you know? Guess what! He did great with it!
This is Sam Abernathy's book, before he ends up as Ryan Dean West's roommate, and both during and after his eventful three-day stay at the bottom of a well. Sam's adventures in the well are appropriately weird, and his adventures later on in school appropriately realistic and painful to fit right in in an Andrew Smith book. You know what I mean. And I love how Smith still writes with plenty of implied curse words, which all come out of Sam's mouth as (excuse me). It totally works!
And one more thing. James Jenkins! Is awesome and I love him! And every time Sam describes him as doing something "like a murderer" it made me laugh. The way Smith uses repetition in his books is so good. I just really like it.
Aaaaaanyway, I love how James and Sam are both opposites and parallels of each other. I love that there's an ambiguity about what's real and what's imagined. I love the way Sam's Dad gradually comes around a bit, and hopefully stops making Sam go on those horrible survival weekends. I love Karim and Bahar. I love how annoying Bartleby is, and how he and Sam's grandmother's famous song tie together. And I love the idea of this being book #1, which implies a book #2.
Okay, I will admit that this is not one of my all-time faves of Smith's (yet), but Sam is one of my all-time favorite characters, and I will definitely be reading this again, because there are always things I've missed the first time through, and more depth than I realized was there at first, and I'm looking forward to discovering that.
Basically, if you're an Andrew Smith fan and you can tolerate junior fiction (and to be clear, can tolerate good junior fiction and not all the stuff out there that is super dumbed down), you should definitely give this a try.
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Read this out loud to my husband on the first day-and-half of our road trip (it’s a pretty short book). And it was great! Again! For the third time! :)
This is Sam Abernathy's book, before he ends up as Ryan Dean West's roommate, and both during and after his eventful three-day stay at the bottom of a well. Sam's adventures in the well are appropriately weird, and his adventures later on in school appropriately realistic and painful to fit right in in an Andrew Smith book. You know what I mean. And I love how Smith still writes with plenty of implied curse words, which all come out of Sam's mouth as (excuse me). It totally works!
And one more thing. James Jenkins! Is awesome and I love him! And every time Sam describes him as doing something "like a murderer" it made me laugh. The way Smith uses repetition in his books is so good. I just really like it.
Aaaaaanyway, I love how James and Sam are both opposites and parallels of each other. I love that there's an ambiguity about what's real and what's imagined. I love the way Sam's Dad gradually comes around a bit, and hopefully stops making Sam go on those horrible survival weekends. I love Karim and Bahar. I love how annoying Bartleby is, and how he and Sam's grandmother's famous song tie together. And I love the idea of this being book #1, which implies a book #2.
Okay, I will admit that this is not one of my all-time faves of Smith's (yet), but Sam is one of my all-time favorite characters, and I will definitely be reading this again, because there are always things I've missed the first time through, and more depth than I realized was there at first, and I'm looking forward to discovering that.
Basically, if you're an Andrew Smith fan and you can tolerate junior fiction (and to be clear, can tolerate good junior fiction and not all the stuff out there that is super dumbed down), you should definitely give this a try.
———————————
Read this out loud to my husband on the first day-and-half of our road trip (it’s a pretty short book). And it was great! Again! For the third time! :)
April 14, 2019
“It made me sad to think how all of a sudden, at eleven years old, I had forced my father to confront the reality that I had formed my own ideas about the way things should work out for me, even if I might make mistakes trying.”
Andrew Smith is so (excuse me) weird. And quirky. And hilarious. But no one else writes quite like him and I am so thankful he took a dive into middle grade. As he says in his acknowledgments, “Who doesn’t like Sam Abernathy?” The answer is no one. Sam is the perfect character to have his own story and it was a pleasure to get to know him a bit better. As my favorite quote indicates, he’s really struggling to just be Sam and not all these other versions people see him as. As a parent, it was an appreciated reminder that our kids are fully formed small humans with fully formed wants and need of their own and Sam navigated his journey beautifully.
One of the highlights of this book was the introduction of James Jenkins, who is, in fact, a murderer. Not really, but he is one of the most surprising characters I’ve read in some time and he completely captured my heart.
This feel-good debut is showing up as #1 in a series and I could not be more relieved. I need more Sam and James Jenkins as soon as possible.
Andrew Smith is so (excuse me) weird. And quirky. And hilarious. But no one else writes quite like him and I am so thankful he took a dive into middle grade. As he says in his acknowledgments, “Who doesn’t like Sam Abernathy?” The answer is no one. Sam is the perfect character to have his own story and it was a pleasure to get to know him a bit better. As my favorite quote indicates, he’s really struggling to just be Sam and not all these other versions people see him as. As a parent, it was an appreciated reminder that our kids are fully formed small humans with fully formed wants and need of their own and Sam navigated his journey beautifully.
One of the highlights of this book was the introduction of James Jenkins, who is, in fact, a murderer. Not really, but he is one of the most surprising characters I’ve read in some time and he completely captured my heart.
This feel-good debut is showing up as #1 in a series and I could not be more relieved. I need more Sam and James Jenkins as soon as possible.
June 9, 2021
J'adore l'écriture d'Andrew Smith et si ses livres étaient traduits en français, je les aurais déjà tous lus. Mais ça me demande beaucoup plus d'efforts et de temps, alors j'en lis un de temps en temps et je ne suis jamais déçue.
The size of the truth m'a fait rire, m'a émue aussi. Et malgré quelques longueurs, je lui donne 4 étoiles parce que la fin est juste parfaite, tout comme Sam Abernathy.
The size of the truth m'a fait rire, m'a émue aussi. Et malgré quelques longueurs, je lui donne 4 étoiles parce que la fin est juste parfaite, tout comme Sam Abernathy.
April 13, 2019
I was at first unsure how Andrew Smith’s awesome storytelling would translate to a MG novel, but oh my gosh. I think this might be my favorite MarburyJack book yet. ♥️
July 28, 2020
I loved this story!
Here's a link to my review: https://thebookishaustin.tumblr.com/p...
Here's a link to my review: https://thebookishaustin.tumblr.com/p...
March 17, 2019
Edelweiss+ provided me a DRC of this book in exchange for an honest review.
I love everything Andrew Smith...his hilarious, hard-hitting realistic fiction and his quirky, crazy, not-for-everyone science fiction. This is his first middle grade offering, and it's kind of a mix of the two.
The story follows Sam Abernathy (yes...THAT Sam Abernathy...from Stand-Off) as he skips two grades, with overbearing parents, struggles with claustrophobia, and tries to escape his "The Boy in the Well" reputation. Half the chapters are present-day and deal with typical middle school drama that all kids can relate to: bullies, tough teachers, embarrassing PE moments, making your own choices, and giving others a chance. The other half are flashbacks to the time when Sam fell in a well at four years old. These chapters are a hazy mix of realism and fantasy, with a smart-ass talking armadillo keeping Sam company while the adults try to save him. Clearly these chapters detail how Sam dealt with the trauma of being stuck in a small space for along period of time (I'm assuming Bartleby the talking armadillo isn't real...although that radio broadcast makes me wonder...).
While I didn't love the Bartleby chapters as much as getting to know middle school Sam and watching him learn to stand up for himself and his friends, I really enjoyed the story as a whole. Goodreads seems to indicate that it's the beginning of a series, so I'm curious so see where this goes...will we get to see Ryan Dean and Pine Mountain Academy from Sam's point of view?!
I love everything Andrew Smith...his hilarious, hard-hitting realistic fiction and his quirky, crazy, not-for-everyone science fiction. This is his first middle grade offering, and it's kind of a mix of the two.
The story follows Sam Abernathy (yes...THAT Sam Abernathy...from Stand-Off) as he skips two grades, with overbearing parents, struggles with claustrophobia, and tries to escape his "The Boy in the Well" reputation. Half the chapters are present-day and deal with typical middle school drama that all kids can relate to: bullies, tough teachers, embarrassing PE moments, making your own choices, and giving others a chance. The other half are flashbacks to the time when Sam fell in a well at four years old. These chapters are a hazy mix of realism and fantasy, with a smart-ass talking armadillo keeping Sam company while the adults try to save him. Clearly these chapters detail how Sam dealt with the trauma of being stuck in a small space for along period of time (I'm assuming Bartleby the talking armadillo isn't real...although that radio broadcast makes me wonder...).
While I didn't love the Bartleby chapters as much as getting to know middle school Sam and watching him learn to stand up for himself and his friends, I really enjoyed the story as a whole. Goodreads seems to indicate that it's the beginning of a series, so I'm curious so see where this goes...will we get to see Ryan Dean and Pine Mountain Academy from Sam's point of view?!
April 20, 2019
This is my first Andrew Smith book, and I was intrigued by the off-the-wall writing. It was quirky, unexpected, but so human. I loved the surprising twists Sam and James' characters take in the story. I understood the human dynamic of Sam's parents. After Sam falls into a well at the age of 4, his parents are determined to plan every second of his successful future. The problem is, they don't ask what he wants. Sam has to learn to stand up for himself and accept his own uncertain future. I though Sam's adolescent voice was very believable, and the humor was outstanding. Sam is a 6th grader trapped in 8th grade, which was a nice age range for the upper middle grade/ middle school crowd.
I struggled with his "four year old" voice in the well flashbacks. I kept thinking it was going to turn out that it was really happening in the present because Sam's voice was so adolescent even in those flashbacks. I live with a 4 year old, and Sam Abernathy trapped in a well was not one. Add the crazy armadillo, and the well chapters were just strange. The symbolism of the lessons of the three tunnels and Sam's sudden memory of how he got out of the well at the end are the only two factors that made these flashbacks work for me.
My other frustration was the (excuse me) in every other paragraph to stand in for swear words. Giving a made up swear word because it is middle grade and you can't swear is just lazy writing. I found the (excuse me) interruptions to get old and annoying really fast.
Overall, I loved Sam's 8th grade chapters, the quirky characters, and the plot twists enough to give this 4 stars. #LitReviewCrew
I struggled with his "four year old" voice in the well flashbacks. I kept thinking it was going to turn out that it was really happening in the present because Sam's voice was so adolescent even in those flashbacks. I live with a 4 year old, and Sam Abernathy trapped in a well was not one. Add the crazy armadillo, and the well chapters were just strange. The symbolism of the lessons of the three tunnels and Sam's sudden memory of how he got out of the well at the end are the only two factors that made these flashbacks work for me.
My other frustration was the (excuse me) in every other paragraph to stand in for swear words. Giving a made up swear word because it is middle grade and you can't swear is just lazy writing. I found the (excuse me) interruptions to get old and annoying really fast.
Overall, I loved Sam's 8th grade chapters, the quirky characters, and the plot twists enough to give this 4 stars. #LitReviewCrew
August 2, 2018
I was just recently gifted an ARC of The Size of the Truth from Andrew Smith himself! I read it over the last couple days and I am thrilled to get some of Sam Abernathy's backstory! Fans of Andrew Smith know Sam from his YA book Winger and this book, intended for middle grade audiences is everything you would expect from an Andrew Smith book (minus the curses, though you will find yourself substituting your own curse words every time Sam says/thinks "Excuse me"-which makes the book even more fun!)
Sam's story: he fell down a well when he was four and now he's in 8th grade, at the age of 11 after being moved up a couple grades. Not only is he "the boy in the well" but he's being forced to be someone he doesn't want to be. He's not math/science focused, he wants to cook! Complicating things even further is the fact his locker-mate James Jenkins just might be a murderer.
Told in alternating sequences of Sam's time in the well and Sam's time in 8th grade, fans of Andrew Smith's work will love his first venture into middle grade writing! Same great voice, same great characters, same great humor, and same great life lessons. As a 6th grade teacher, it's the life lessons that I'm excited for my students to read! Thank you to Andrew Smith for the ARC! I plan on leading off my school year with this book talk, even though it doesn't come out till March, 26, 2019!!!!! Loved it.
Sam's story: he fell down a well when he was four and now he's in 8th grade, at the age of 11 after being moved up a couple grades. Not only is he "the boy in the well" but he's being forced to be someone he doesn't want to be. He's not math/science focused, he wants to cook! Complicating things even further is the fact his locker-mate James Jenkins just might be a murderer.
Told in alternating sequences of Sam's time in the well and Sam's time in 8th grade, fans of Andrew Smith's work will love his first venture into middle grade writing! Same great voice, same great characters, same great humor, and same great life lessons. As a 6th grade teacher, it's the life lessons that I'm excited for my students to read! Thank you to Andrew Smith for the ARC! I plan on leading off my school year with this book talk, even though it doesn't come out till March, 26, 2019!!!!! Loved it.
October 14, 2019
I'm a huge Andrew Smith YA fan. I will admit I picked up this MG, Andrew's first foray into writing for this age group, thinking "let's see if he can pull off writing for a younger audience." And I can say he pulled it off and then some. The Size of the Truth has the same hilarity and personality as many of Andrew's YA books, but with no swear words! And like Andrew's YA there is a bit of crazy (talking armadillos?). I loved this endearing story. I wish I could have had best friends like Sam and James in high school. This book will stay with me for a long time.
May 26, 2019
Narrated by a lovable, relatable 11-year-old outcast named Sam Abernathy, this novel walks a tightrope line between realistic and surreal. Talking armadillo unicorns, Grammy-winning gospel songs, survivalist kilt-wearing father-son camping trips, awkward middle-school dances, imaginary friends, real friends, obnoxious gym teachers, and tween culinary dreams featuring fancy Mac n cheese are just a few of the details mixed together to make this seriously hilarious journey worth the trip. Read-alike: Me and Marvin Gardens by A.S. King.
April 15, 2019
I really loved Winger, Stand-off, and Sam/Snackpack. Thus, I was thrilled to read this, even though I just about never read middle grade lit. I enjoyed it, but not as much as the aforementioned novels. While Sam was great in this book, I think I enjoyed reading about Sam from Ryan’s point of view even more. James is an absolutely fantastic, progressive character and I need more of him, stat.
January 28, 2024
Mr. Smith, if you are reading this, I’m sorry! (He was my 12th grade government teacher). I only gave this book 2 stars because the writing style was just not my cup of tea. I also didn’t feel like I really connected with any of the characters. I tried to keep and open mind and see things from new perspectives, but some books just aren’t for everyone. I did love the messages… essentially not judging a book by its cover or not always assuming something based on preconceived notions is an excellent theme and I loved the little twist toward the end. This is not a bad book just because I gave it two stars, I just prefer a different style. The thing I absolutely struggled with was the “excuse me” throughout the book… oh I was getting frustrated with that being repeated so often.
If it’s any consolation, one of myself students (an 8th grader) said this was his all time favorite book. I’m sure this book is fantastic for the right audience… that just isn’t me.
If it’s any consolation, one of myself students (an 8th grader) said this was his all time favorite book. I’m sure this book is fantastic for the right audience… that just isn’t me.
April 24, 2019
Loved it!
July 14, 2019
A boy falls down a well. A boy gets accelerated 2 years in middle school. A boy tries to avoid holes, and to avoid dissappointing people.
What a wonderful book!
I cried on the beach.
No regrets.
What a wonderful book!
I cried on the beach.
No regrets.
August 7, 2019
This book is (excuse me) beautiful.
August 30, 2019
I love this, it's just so Andrew Smith!
Having read every book by Smith, I love how we see the same quirky writing, long sentences (I know, some people won't like this but I do) and over all feelings, but set to a middle grade backdrop. Basically there's no swearing and it isn't harrowing XD
This book makes me want to reread Stand Off because Sam
Bartleby is a massive troll and I live
One of my favourite parts of this book is how Sam describes a guy in his class as a murderer, it's just so excessive and I'm here for it!
--James Jenkins walks like a murderer. He combs his hair like a murderer. James Jenkins chews Goldfish crackers for a really long time, which is something only a murderer would do--
Then every time he sees him he's like 'James Jenkins walks slowly, like a murderer would' - it's just so fun. I know some people would probably be put off by the repetitiveness but it's just quintessential Andrew Smith - along with usingJames Jenkins full names
Having read every book by Smith, I love how we see the same quirky writing, long sentences (I know, some people won't like this but I do) and over all feelings, but set to a middle grade backdrop. Basically there's no swearing and it isn't harrowing XD
This book makes me want to reread Stand Off because Sam
Bartleby is a massive troll and I live
One of my favourite parts of this book is how Sam describes a guy in his class as a murderer, it's just so excessive and I'm here for it!
--James Jenkins walks like a murderer. He combs his hair like a murderer. James Jenkins chews Goldfish crackers for a really long time, which is something only a murderer would do--
Then every time he sees him he's like 'James Jenkins walks slowly, like a murderer would' - it's just so fun. I know some people would probably be put off by the repetitiveness but it's just quintessential Andrew Smith - along with using
October 28, 2018
This book was so good. I haven’t heard a middle grade title in a while, and this was just perfect. The story is about Sam, who fell down a well when he was 4. That should be the worst thing that happens to him, right? Nah. He still has middle school.
The voices of the kids in this book are perfect. Sam is so precious. James Jenkins the not-so-bully is so perfectly described. Bartleby the unicorn armadillo might be the best armadillo voice I have ever read.
I haven’t read any other books by Andrew Smith but now I might :)
The voices of the kids in this book are perfect. Sam is so precious. James Jenkins the not-so-bully is so perfectly described. Bartleby the unicorn armadillo might be the best armadillo voice I have ever read.
I haven’t read any other books by Andrew Smith but now I might :)
October 21, 2020
Remember when I read this book the first time and said that it's not one of my favorites yet, but that maybe it would be once I read it again? I decided to listen to the audiobook, and yeah, that happened. Just as I suspected!
I wasn't quite sure what to make of the audiobook narrator at first. Sam's 11, and I spent a ridiculous amount of time pondering whether it's weird to have a full-grown man reading a book from the point of view of an 11-year-old kid. Would it be less weird if it was narrated by an actual 11-year-old kid? Are 11-year-old audiobook narrators even a thing? And if they were, would I actually want to listen to one read this book to me? Then I told myself to shut up and stop being dumb and then I totally fell in love with the way Ramón de Ocampo plays Sam. Fun fact, he also apparently narrates Red, White & Royal Blue, and I was tempted when I found that out, but I don't think I'd handle certain sexy time scenes well at ALL if unable to skim them like I could in print, so I will refrain...for now.
ANYWAY, back to this book. So, I loved how Ramón de Ocampo voices Sam once I stopped totally overthinking it. I never quiiiiiite got on board with how he does James Jenkins, but I fell so in love with this book all over again that I didn't even care.
I really, really do hope we get another book from Sam's perspective at some point. And I hope if we do that Ramón de Ocampo will narrate it too, because he really is great, despite not being 11 years old.
Shut up, Lara.
I wasn't quite sure what to make of the audiobook narrator at first. Sam's 11, and I spent a ridiculous amount of time pondering whether it's weird to have a full-grown man reading a book from the point of view of an 11-year-old kid. Would it be less weird if it was narrated by an actual 11-year-old kid? Are 11-year-old audiobook narrators even a thing? And if they were, would I actually want to listen to one read this book to me? Then I told myself to shut up and stop being dumb and then I totally fell in love with the way Ramón de Ocampo plays Sam. Fun fact, he also apparently narrates Red, White & Royal Blue, and I was tempted when I found that out, but I don't think I'd handle certain sexy time scenes well at ALL if unable to skim them like I could in print, so I will refrain...for now.
ANYWAY, back to this book. So, I loved how Ramón de Ocampo voices Sam once I stopped totally overthinking it. I never quiiiiiite got on board with how he does James Jenkins, but I fell so in love with this book all over again that I didn't even care.
I really, really do hope we get another book from Sam's perspective at some point. And I hope if we do that Ramón de Ocampo will narrate it too, because he really is great, despite not being 11 years old.
Shut up, Lara.
December 7, 2018
I'll gladly pick up anything with Andrew Smith's name on it, and Smith's first foray into middle-grade fiction was no exception. Learning about Sam Abernathy's backstory made for a good read, though I wish some parts of the story weren't so speculative. Also, I'd love to read more about James Jenkins. An enjoyable read, but it didn't pack as big of a punch as some of Smith's other works.
February 14, 2016
Why is this maybe-maybe not book listed here? No one knows if it even exists! Amazon certainly does not know more than I do. And though I am sure Andrew Smith will write more books, what do you get from a third part of Winger, which could be about middle-school, or a spin-off, or about another character.
And so far -not surprising as we know nothing- the book does not have a title, nor a tilt. So it is untitlted. Copied from the top of this page...
No comments.
And so far -not surprising as we know nothing- the book does not have a title, nor a tilt. So it is untitlted. Copied from the top of this page...
No comments.
February 7, 2022
After falling into a well, four-year-old Sam is befriended by a chatty, sarcastic, talking armadillo named Bartleby. Sam asks the armadillo if he couldn't help Sam get out by digging a tunnel to the top.
Bartleby said, "I would prefer not to."I question how many middle school students are familiar with Herman Melville, but that line, coming out of the blue, cracked me up.
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