All Out of Pretty
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Product Description
How do you know who to trust? Can you even trust yourself, your own instincts, and choices? Andrea, or "Bones" as her mom calls her, thinks of herself as smart, but intelligence only gets you so far and she finds herself nowhere near as smart or as tough as she thought.
"All Out of Pretty" is a gripping, thoughtful look at one girl's journey to figuring out what really matters to her and how to take care of herself in a world where there are no responsible adults for her to rely on. Do you use your looks or your brains? Your stubbornness or flexibility? How do you survive a drug-addict mother and her dealer boyfriend? Andrea's voice will pull you along from the first sentence of this emotional roller-coaster of a book.
From School Library Journal
Gr 10 Up—Andrea is plucked by her drug-addicted mother, Ayla, from her loving grandmother's house after the older woman dies. Andrea becomes homeless and lives in a car, while Ayla tries to get money and food from guys she sleeps with. When Ayla gets a new boyfriend, Judd, they move in with him, and Andrea is forced to help him package and distribute drugs for her keep. Judd is abusive and Andrea doesn't know what to do. She doesn't want to abandon her mother, but when things turn even worse, the teen starts a plan to save herself. The complicated relationships that involve Andrea are realistically drawn, down to the psychological trauma that each one entails. The flawed main characters have their own issues that Palmer presents in an authentic way. Readers will sympathize with all of the characters, even the antagonists. The debut author does not leave any traumatic thought unturned. This is textbook-contemporary YA, but it feels fresh under Palmer's expert writing. There are no wasted words, and the mounting events will keep readers on the edge of their seats as they cheer on the protagonist and cringe from the horrendous situations she experiences. VERDICT An excellent selection for YA shelves.—Rachel Reinwald, Lake Villa District Library, IL
Review
After the death of her grandmother, Andrea fights to survive a violent life with her addict mother. Sixteen-year-old Andrea lives quietly with her grandmother, putting all her energy into academic achievement. If she can get a full scholarship to college, she can escape the shadow of her estranged, drug-addicted mother, Ayla. But when Gram suddenly passes away, Ayla resurfaces to claim custody. Andrea, a pretty, white girl whose light blue eyes are the envy of her peers, gets used to Ayla partying all night, spending all their money, and taking financial advantage of men. When they're evicted, a white man named Judd lets them move in on the condition that Andrea earns her keep helping with household chores and his drug-running business. The slightest misstep leads to physical punishment. Andrea tries to keep her head down and focus on school, but she stumbles into new friendships that put her and those she cares about at risk. She can't let anyone get close now; all she can do is try to survive--and she will do anything to survive. Andrea's constant abuse is heartbreaking, and her complicated relationship with Ayla is well-wrought. Though her struggles are hard to read about, Andrea is both flawed and fierce enough to pull readers through them with her. An achingly realistic portrait of abuse and addiction. (Fiction. 14-adult)--Kirkus Reviews
How do you know who to trust? Can you even trust yourself, your own instincts, and choices? Andrea, or "Bones" as her mom calls her, thinks of herself as smart, but intelligence only gets you so far and she finds herself nowhere near as smart or as tough as she thought. "All Out of Pretty" is a gripping, thoughtful look at one girl's journey to figuring out what really matters to her and how to take care of herself in a world where there are no responsible adults for her to rely on. Do you use your looks or your brains? Your stubbornness or flexibility? How do you survive a drug-addict mother and her dealer boyfriend? Andrea's voice will pull you along from the first sentence of this emotional roller-coaster of a book.--Sam Kozbial "We Live and Breathe Books "
Gr 10 Up--Andrea is plucked by her drug-addicted mother, Ayla, from her loving grandmother's house after the older woman dies. Andrea becomes homeless and lives in a car, while Ayla tries to get money and food from guys she sleeps with. When Ayla gets a new boyfriend, Judd, they move in with him, and Andrea is forced to help him package and distribute drugs for her keep. Judd is abusive and Andrea doesn't know what to do. She doesn't want to abandon her mother, but when things turn even worse, the teen starts a plan to save herself. The complicated relationships that involve Andrea are realistically drawn, down to the psychological trauma that each one entails. The flawed main characters have their own issues that Palmer presents in an authentic way. Readers will sympathize with all of the characters, even the antagonists. The debut author does not leave any traumatic thought unturned. This is textbook-contemporary YA, but it feels fresh under Palmer's expert writing. There are no wasted words, and the mounting events will keep readers on the edge of their seats as they cheer on the protagonist and cringe from the horrendous situations she experiences. VERDICT An excellent selection for YA shelves.--Rachel Reinwald, Lake Villa District Library, IL School Library Journal--Rachel Reinwald "School Library Journal "
Review
Gr 10 Up―Andrea is plucked by her drug-addicted mother, Ayla, from her loving grandmother's house after the older woman dies. Andrea becomes homeless and lives in a car, while Ayla tries to get money and food from guys she sleeps with. When Ayla gets a new boyfriend, Judd, they move in with him, and Andrea is forced to help him package and distribute drugs for her keep. Judd is abusive and Andrea doesn't know what to do. She doesn't want to abandon her mother, but when things turn even worse, the teen starts a plan to save herself. The complicated relationships that involve Andrea are realistically drawn, down to the psychological trauma that each one entails. The flawed main characters have their own issues that Palmer presents in an authentic way. Readers will sympathize with all of the characters, even the antagonists. The debut author does not leave any traumatic thought unturned. This is textbook-contemporary YA, but it feels fresh under Palmer's expert writing. There are no wasted words, and the mounting events will keep readers on the edge of their seats as they cheer on the protagonist and cringe from the horrendous situations she experiences. VERDICT An excellent selection for YA shelves.―Rachel Reinwald, Lake Villa District Library, IL School Library Journal -- Rachel Reinwald,
School Library Journal
How do you know who to trust? Can you even trust yourself, your own instincts, and choices? Andrea, or "Bones" as her mom calls her, thinks of herself as smart, but intelligence only gets you so far and she finds herself nowhere near as smart or as tough as she thought. "All Out of Pretty" is a gripping, thoughtful look at one girl's journey to figuring out what really matters to her and how to take care of herself in a world where there are no responsible adults for her to rely on. Do you use your looks or your brains? Your stubbornness or flexibility? How do you survive a drug-addict mother and her dealer boyfriend? Andrea's voice will pull you along from the first sentence of this emotional roller-coaster of a book. -- Sam Kozbial,
We Live and Breathe Books
After the death of her grandmother, Andrea fights to survive a violent life with her addict mother. Sixteen-year-old Andrea lives quietly with her grandmother, putting all her energy into academic achievement. If she can get a full scholarship to college, she can escape the shadow of her estranged, drug-addicted mother, Ayla. But when Gram suddenly passes away, Ayla resurfaces to claim custody. Andrea, a pretty, white girl whose light blue eyes are the envy of her peers, gets used to Ayla partying all night, spending all their money, and taking financial advantage of men. When they’re evicted, a white man named Judd lets them move in on the condition that Andrea earns her keep helping with household chores and his drug-running business. The slightest misstep leads to physical punishment. Andrea tries to keep her head down and focus on school, but she stumbles into new friendships that put her and those she cares about at risk. She can’t let anyone get close now; all she can do is try to survive―and she will do anything to survive. Andrea’s constant abuse is heartbreaking, and her complicated relationship with Ayla is well-wrought. Though her struggles are hard to read about, Andrea is both flawed and fierce enough to pull readers through them with her. An achingly realistic portrait of abuse and addiction. (Fiction. 14-adult),
Kirkus Reviews
Review
"A haunting and unflinching read that beautifully explores the intersection between strength and vulnerability, and what it means to be lost as well as found. Brilliant and unforgettable." -- Jasmine Warga,
author of Here We Are Now and My Heart and Other Black Holes
About the Author
Originally from Ohio, Ingrid Palmer writes young adult fiction in the small Colorado mountain town where she lives with her husband, two sons, a cat that likes to play fetch, and a golden retriever that doesn't. When not writing books or enjoying the great outdoors, Ingrid works as a freelance editor. She has a master's degree in journalism from Northwestern University and is a graduate of the Denver Publishing Institute. ALL OUT OF PRETTY is her debut novel. Visit Ingrid online at ingridpalmer.com or follow her on Twitter @IngPalmer.
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
The great poet John Keats once wrote, “A thing of beauty is a joy forever.” Keats never knew my mother. I glance down at my watch again. Three hours. That’s how long it's been since Ayla left me in the car with a distracted wave and a promise to “be right back with some munchies.” Right. I’ll bet she bummed dinner off some guy at the bar and didn’t bother to get anything for me. Now she’s probably passed out somewhere. Or hooking up. Or maybe she can’t remember where the hell she parked. I never should have let Ayla go off on her own. I should know better than to trust a woman who can’t even remember to pay the rent. For about a millisecond, I consider hunting her down and dragging her drunk ass back here. Forcing her to deal with the cold, and the lack of food, and me. But when we first rolled into this tiny town, Ayla insisted on doing a drive-by of the local bars and I saw the bouncers standing outside. There’s no way I can pass for twenty-one. Most people don’t even believe I’m sixteen until I produce my driver’s license. I drag my fingers through my long, dark hair. It feels greasy. So does my face, which I haven’t washed properly in days. But when I lean forward and peer into the car’s rearview mirror, the girl staring back at me somehow still looks pretty. I scowl at her. Then I grab a pen and start scribbling in my notebook, the ink making deep indents on the page to match the ones on my forehead. The truth is, I used to like being pretty. I used to feel proud when girls at school wished out loud for my pale blue eyes, when boys stared as I walked past. It felt good, in the same way that spring grass tickles your toes or pearls feel fanciful looped around your neck. Even Gram would sometimes stand behind me, looking at our reflection in the hallway mirror, and say, “You’re stunning, Andrea―inside and out.” Then she’d beam at me like a proud mama bear, crinkling her nose until we both collapsed into giggles. I can’t remember the last time I giggled. I don’t even smile anymore. If I feel my lips twitching, I push the smile down, kick it into the dirt. I hide―not just my smile, but everything. The problem with being pretty is, people tend to notice you. And these days, being noticed is the last thing I want. My fingers ache from gripping the pen so tight. I stare down at my messy handwriting in the soft circle of light emanating from the roof of Gram’s car, knowing I won’t ever share the words I've written. They’re just a rant. I’ve already finished the essay Iwill turn in to my English teacher when spring break is over. It’s written in neat, vertical letters and it’s full of the fun things I did on vacation, like going to the waterpark and exploring the science museum. I call it my Rough Draft of Lies. I hate lying. But I can’t write honestly about the places I’ve been this week -- or this year. It’s remarkable, really, how many secrets I’ve accumulated in such a short stretch of time. A dull thudding starts in my temples and I begin to feel lightheaded from not having eaten in thirty-seven hours, from the worry that’s plagued me ever since we got evicted. Gathering our few blankets, I coil up in the backseat and rest my cheek against my dark green backpack. I lift my head slightly and punch the bag, trying to make the bumpy spots flat. If I can’t have food, then I’d like a good night’s sleep tonight. In a real bed. Not in the back of Gram’s Buick, with its stiff leather seats that remind me too much of her hands the day I found her. Inhale. Exhale. It’s so quiet that the smallest sounds are amplified. Like my breathing. And the lone moth repeatedly throwing itself against the windshield, attracted to the red glow of the dashboard security light. The thwp- thwp of its wings beating against the glass makes my own limbs ache in sympathy. Maybe I should shoo it away―or put it out of its misery. The frost will claim it tonight anyway. But that would mean unknotting myself from my own fragile cocoon, and I’m not that selfless. As time ticks by, the only thing keeping me remotely warm is my increasing anger. The bars must be closing, so where the hell is Ayla? My stomach rumbles and I press my fingers against the hollow of it. I stare out the window at the ink-blotted sky, where the moon hangs like a sentry between heaven and earth. Even if Ayla keeps pretending, I know we’re in trouble. Just like I know the sixteen cents in my pocket will buy me exactly nothing at the 24-hour gas station across the road. I also know there’s a dumpster on the other side of this lot. My eyes flick toward it. Before the thought has a chance to warp into an actual plan, bright lights blind me, a sharp wind whips into the car, and pointy-nailed fingers poke my shoulder. I shield my eyes, hoping it’s not a cop. Instead, I see Ayla’s gorgeous, flushed face blocking out the moon. “Wake up, wake up!” Her voice is giddy and high-pitched. She definitely scored dinner or she’d be growling and swearing at me. “Come on, Bones, we got a place to stay.” Bones. This is what she calls me instead of Andrea―the name Gram chose when I was born. I wish I could say Ayla’s nickname for me is a term of endearment, but I know better. Tugging off the blankets, I sit up and squint into the cold darkness. My lungs protest the frigid air, causing me to cough. A rainbow halo is smeared around the one lit parking lamp near the street. There’s a man under it, smoking a cigarette. He’s tall and strong-looking, not the cleanest sort. He doesn’t look at me. Just at Ayla in her tight black skirt and shimmery top. “That’s Judd.” Ayla smirks, like he’s some knight in shining armor. “We’re going to crash at his place.” She leans in to gather her belongings, which are strewn across the front seat of the car. I steal another glance at Judd, and he smiles. It’s uneven and awkward, an expression I can tell he avoids. Huh, I think. We have something in common. In the hazy lamplight I see that Judd’s hair is dirt brown where it’s not receding from his forehead. His face is long and fierce, like the skin has been stretched too tight. He might have been decent-looking at some point, but he’s at least ten years older than Ayla and he seems… haggard. I don’t bother pointing this out. I know Ayla’s giddiness is a ruse. She’s playing Judd, using him for what we need. She’s a parasite. And so am I, by default. Yes, I used to like being pretty. But if it means ending up like Ayla, I think I’ll pass.
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