Things You Can't Say

There is so much that 12-year-old Drew can’t say.

He can’t ask his mom why, three years ago, his seemingly happy father killed himself. He can’t ask her why an old friend of hers, Phil, has suddenly shown up on his motorcycle and completely disrupted Drew’s life or whether or not, as he’s

Show More

begun to suspect, that man is his real father. He can’t quite bring himself to tell prickly Audrey, the new helper at the library where he volunteers all summer, that he’s starting to really like her. And he can’t tell his best friend, Filipe, any of the things that are really on his mind. Perhaps the biggest thing he can’t communicate is that he’s terrified that whatever was wrong with his father could be haunting his future, too. In this believable, character-driven exploration of the long-lasting shadow suicide casts, Bishop imbues Drew, his loving mother, and Audrey with just enough insight to make their efforts to support each other fully believable. Drew’s emerging anger with his father is both poignant and tragically appropriate. Drew’s present-tense narration is candid and vulnerable, offering readers both mirrors for and windows to this particular, very difficult experience. The cast defaults to white. An author’s note discusses suicide and, together with an appended list of resources, offers direction for readers in search of support; in the acknowledgments, Bishop briefly describes her research.

A thoughtful examination of the slow, uneven recovery that follows a devastating loss. (Fiction. 10-14)

-Kirkus Review

Show Less