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- Kurzbeschreibung"Move over, John Green; Zentner is coming for you." -The New York Public Library
"Will fill the infinite space that was left in your chest after you finished The Perks of Being a Wallflower. " -BookRiot.com
"A brutally honest portrayal of teen life . . . [and] a love letter to the South from a man who really understands it." -Mashable.com
"I adored all three of these characters and the way they talked to and loved one another."- New York Times
Named one of the Most Anticipated YA Books of 2016 by Paste Magazine and Popcrush.com
Dill has had to wrestle with vipers his whole life-at home, as the only son of a Pentecostal minister who urges him to handle poisonous rattlesnakes, and at school, where he faces down bullies who target him for his father's extreme faith and very public fall from grace.
The only antidote to all this venom is his friendship with fellow outcasts Travis and Lydia. But as they are starting their senior year, Dill feels the coils of his future tightening around him. Dill's only escapes are his music and his secret feelings for Lydia-neither of which he is brave enough to share. Graduation feels more like an ending to Dill than a beginning. But even before then, he must cope with another ending-one that will rock his life to the core.
Debut novelist Jeff Zentner provides an unblinking and at times comic view of the hard realities of growing up in the Bible belt, and an intimate look at the struggles to find one's true self in the wreckage of the past.
"A story about friendship, family and forgiveness, it's as funny and witty as it is utterly heartbreaking." -PasteMagazine.com
From the Hardcover edition.
- AutorJeff Zentner
- SerieCrown Books
- VerlagRandom House LCC US
- Seiten384 Seiten
- Gewicht378 g
There were things Dillard Wayne Early Jr. dreaded more than the start of school at Forrestville High. Not many, but a few. Thinking about the future was one of them. Dill didn't enjoy doing that. He didn't much care for talking about religion with his mother. That never left him feeling happy or saved. He loathed the flash of recognition that usually passed across people's faces when they learned his name. That rarely resulted in a conversation he enjoyed.
And he really didn't enjoy visiting his father, Pastor Dillard Early Sr., at Riverbend Prison. His trip to Nashville that day wasn't to visit his father, but he still had a nagging sense of unformed dread and he didn't know why. It might have been because school was starting the next day, but this felt different somehow than in years past.
It would have been worse except for the excitement of seeing Lydia. The worst days spent with her were better than the best days spent without her.
Dill stopped strumming his guitar, leaned forward, and wrote in the dollar-store composition book open on the floor in front of him. The decrepit window air conditioner wheezed, losing the battle against the mugginess of his living room.
The thudding of a wasp at the window caught his attention over the laboring of the air conditioner. He rose from the ripped sofa and walked to the window, which he jimmied until it screeched open.
Dill swatted the wasp toward the crack. "You don't want to stay in here," he murmured. "This house is no place to die. Go on. Get."
It alighted on the sill, considered the house one more time, and flew free. Dill shut the window, almost having to hang from it to close it all the way.
His mother walked in wearing her motel maid's uniform. She looked tired. She always did, which made her seem much older than her thirty-five years. "What were you doing with the window open and the AC on? Electricity's not free."
Dill turned. "Wasp."
"Why you all dressed to leave? You going somewhere?"
"Nashville." Please don't ask the question I know you're going to ask.
"Visiting your father?" She sounded both hopeful and accusatory.
"No." Dill looked away.
His mother stepped toward him and sought his eyes. "Why not?"
Dill avoided her glare. "Because. That's not why we're going."
"Me. Lydia. Travis. Same as always."
She put a hand on her hip. "Why you going, then?"
"Your clothes are fine."
"No they're not. They're getting too small." Dill lifted his skinny arms, his T-shirt exposing his lean stomach.
"With what money?" His mother's brow--already more lined than most women's her age--furrowed
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