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Genre: Young Adult & Youth
About FalconriderLocation: Eastside of the Seattle Area Home Region: Age:16 Website: http://www.fictionpress.com/~sharksdontsleep Favorite novels: Looking for Alaska by John Green, Kerosene by Chris Wooding, Martyn Pig by Kevin Brooks, and So Yesterday by Scott Westerfeld Favorite writers: Frank O'Hara, John Green, Scott Westerfeld, Maureen Johnson, Kevin Brooks, A.E. Housman, Justine Larbalestier Favorite music: Los Campesinos!, The Kooks, Cat Stevens, Throw Me the Statue, Mumford & Sons Non-noveling interests: Writing poetry, getting published in chapbook anthologies, learning foreign languages, playing the piano and mandolin, and going on Forest Expeditions with my friends |
Joined: November 10, 2006 This Year: Official Participant NaNoWriMo History: NaNoWriMo posts: 21 NaNoWriMo buddies: 13
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Brief Author Bio: I live near Seattle, WA, and I am a poet. |
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Synopsis: this is what it was like in your car in the rain
Ezra and Loraine have not been friends for ten years. They haven't acknowledged their shared childhood since an incident in the first grade that built a wall between them that neither has had the courage to take down.
That is, until Ezra offers Loraine a ride home during the worst storm of the year.
When Ezra's car breaks down, Loraine gets the chance of a lifetime -- to ask Ezra why he did what he did. But he doesn't have all the answers that she's looking for and it soon becomes apparent that their life stories are both intertwined and completely separate entities.
Told from both Loraine' and Ezra's point of view as well as through letters to each other, this story reveals two sides of a lifetime filled with hate and hope.
Excerpt: this is what it was like in your car in the rain
Ezra March, you told me that I was fat in first grade. You didn't use so many words, but it was obvious what your intentions really were. When I was at your house you would only put two slices of cheese on my sandwich, but I'd always get extra apple slices. You would ask me what I ate for breakfast and spit out calorie amounts like a machine. Ezra March, you suggested, on March 14th, to measure the circumference of my waist to fully understand how Pi worked. You rhymed my name with gain in the poetry unit that fall. You obsessed over the nutrition unit at the end of spring.
Ezra March, you ruined my life.
Ezra March, you were my best friend.
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