The Contemps: Kathy Charles

This week, we have two great contemporary recommendations for you. Both are first-time YA novels (and one is the author’s very first book). Let’s share a little YA Contemps love with the authors of You and John Belushi is Dead.

You by Charles Benoit

You want action, danger, thrills? Then you want You, Charles Benoit’s first novel for teens. Booklist says, "This is a brutal, fast, and satisfying read." And it's the rare novel that is written in the second person. In other words, the main character is "You."

It begins: You're surprised at all the blood. He looks over at you, eyes wide, mouth dropping open, his face almost as white as his shirt. He's surprised too. Now how could you stop reading after that?

Kyle lists the top 10 things his parents say to him:

Is that all your going to do today, sit in front of the computer?
When I was your age, I had two jobs.
Why don't you wear some clothes that fit for a change?
Turn it down, I can hear it all the way over here.
You're not eating that for dinner.
Did you do your homework?
Stop mumbling and speak up.
Now what did you do?
Because I said so.
No

Question: What else should be on the list of things parents say? Feel free to suggest something something good or bad.

Or do you want to read about obsessions, mysteries, and murders? Then pick up Kathy Charles' first book: John Belushi is Dead.

Seventeen-year-old pink-haired Hilda and punk Benji have an obsessive hobby -- they haunt places where Hollywood celebrities have died. Publisher's Weekly says, "Chock-full of gory details of famous murders, suicides, and urban legends (Belushi, the Mansons, the Black Dahlia), Charles' first novel...is not for the faint of heart, but rewards readers with chilling reminders of the all-consuming nature of celebrity and the transience of life. 'Death didn't just come for me, or my parents,' Hilsa muses, 'it came for everyone: the rich and famous, beautiful, and privileged.'"

Excerpt: John Belushi once said that happiness is not a state you want to be in all the time. I knew what he meant. He was talking about the uncontrollable urge to fuck it all up, the desire to put a knife in the toaster of existence just to see what would happen. To put a bomb under your blessings and watch them blow sky high, swan dive off the precipice and give in to the free-fall. Belushi had it all: money, fame, a wife, a home. But he didn't want to live in the safety of these creature comforts. He wanted to exist on the knife's edge, the sharpest point of the blade where you could fall eitehr way, the only guarantee that you will inevitably get cut.