Gary D. Schmidt

My favourite books are always those that prove me wrong, that break my own rules. I used to say I didn't like the traditional or "high" fantasy genre, and then [a:Megan Whalen Turner|22542|Megan Whalen Turner|http://photo.goodreads.com/authors/1241223424p2/22542.jpg] and [a:Melina Marchetta|47104|Melina Marchetta|http://photo.goodreads.com/authors/1277655889p2/47104.jpg] proved that I had actually just not found the right brand of traditional fantasy to suit me. As a rule, I tend to avoid show more like the plague young adult books that are about dealing with the death of a loved one or teenage pregnancy... but [b:Please Ignore Vera Dietz|6665671|Please Ignore Vera Dietz|A.S. King|http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1320541615s/6665671.jpg|6860540] and [b:How to Save a Life|10757806|How to Save a Life|Sara Zarr|http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1337211222s/10757806.jpg|14982110] proved that I just needed to find the novels that dealt with it in a way I could appreciate. And then there are those young adult books with protagonists who deal with their problematic lives through creativity: art, music, literature... etc. I often find in these kind of stories something horribly cheesy and cliche, so when Mr Schmidt came along with this book and [b:The Wednesday Wars|556136|The Wednesday Wars|Gary D. Schmidt|http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1175775828s/556136.jpg|2586820] and introduced me to two characters who find comfort in drawing pictures of birds and Shakespeare... I should have hated it.

But Schmidt somehow manages to handle his characters so expertly that it's okay. No, more than that, it's bloody brilliant. In this book, Doug Swieteck - a character we first meet in [b:The Wednesday Wars|556136|The Wednesday Wars|Gary D. Schmidt|http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1175775828s/556136.jpg|2586820] - comes back to tell his own story, one which is far more painful and sad than Holling's. At first it seems like the entire world is out to get Doug, his family have had to move to a small crappy house in a small crappy town, his father is abusive, his brother is a bully, everything good that comes into his life is eventually taken from him. Not only that, but Doug has a few secret problems that it is becoming increasingly difficult for him to hide. And I'm sure that so far it sounds like every typical teen "issue book" filled with the usual melodrama. But no.

Because people are not what they seem and even the worst have the capacity for good and change. What I love most is the way Schmidt makes every character count, he introduces many people into this story and you will find yourself forming opinions of them straight away, only to discover that they are way more multidimensional than that. The author throws up constant surprises and when you think you've finally figured out what kind of novel you are reading and what sort of story this is supposed to be, it turns out you're wrong. Every single character in this novel gets the chance to be a person not just an archetype, they are made up of good and bad, they all have faults and they all have positive qualities also. To build so many complex individuals into your story must be challenging and this novel has firmly cemented Mr Schmidt into one of my favourite authors of all time.

I said at the beginning of this review that some of my favourite books are the ones that challenge and break the rules I have made for myself about what I like to read, and I think I'm starting to get some idea of what makes these rule-breakers so special: it is because that, even though they fall into the category I typically don't like, they are actually so much more than that. And it is mostly to do with the characters. To simplify Marchetta's Lumatere series by calling it merely "traditional fantasy" is unforgivable when I think about the richness of the world she has created and the range of personalities in it. Same with [b:Please Ignore Vera Dietz|6665671|Please Ignore Vera Dietz|A.S. King|http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1320541615s/6665671.jpg|6860540] and [b:How to Save a Life|10757806|How to Save a Life|Sara Zarr|http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1337211222s/10757806.jpg|14982110], they are not simply about death and teen pregnancy, they are about colourful characters that are so well-crafted they feel real. And [b:Okay for Now|9165406|Okay for Now|Gary D. Schmidt|http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1327889281s/9165406.jpg|14044509] is the same.

This book is about a lot of things. It is about small town gossip and how you can be ostracised because of the mistakes and failures of those close to you. It's about learning to see the world in a new way - which sounds totally trite but, trust me, it works. It really works! I think that is this book's real triumph: Schmidt takes a few simple and overdone ideas, mixes them up a bit, and churns out something completely original. And isn't that the best kind of story? show less

In 1968, Doug Swieteck already has to face an abusive father, a bullying older brother, and another brother who is off fighting in Vietnam, so when his father loses his job and moves the family to Marysville, New York in search of work, Doug is suddenly also the new kid. But Marysville gives Doug the chance to become something more than a skinny thug like his older brother and his deadbeat dad. A chance meeting with a girl gives him a delivery route, where he meets the eccentric Mrs. show more Windemere, and trips to the library to see the Audubon paintings introduces him to the kind librarian Mr. Powell, who teaches Doug how to draw, and the start of a new school year introduces him to Mr. Ferris, a science teacher, who figures out Doug's big secret. And when Doug's brother, Lucas, comes home from Vietnam, Doug finds that he is no longer the same kid as when Lucas left - and that's not always a bad thing.

The Audubon connection is an odd one, but refreshing in its oddity. Each chapter is prefaced by a depiction of the painting which becomes the theme for that chapter. The sharp, minimalist drawings of Audubon match perfectly well to Doug's own sharp edges and outwardly simple character, and it is easy to see where the urge to replicate the beautiful plates comes from. The only complaint to be made about the bird theme is the way that Schmidt sometimes is a bit too "on the nose" with his symbols. One chapter begins with the Red-Throated Divers, and Mrs. Windemere a little too shrewdly comments that the mother is not aching to fly away, as Doug originally suggests, but protecting her smallest child. The analogy is a little too clear. Schmidt seems to be one of those writers who cannot bear to trust the reader to make the connection, and so must constantly nudge them until he is content they have gotten the point. This mistrust of the readers' abilities can also extend to the characterization. In one scene, Doug stands up to his father, but is later confronted by his brother, who delivers an impassioned speech that is a little too self-aware to be honestly moving. Particularly in young adult novels, authors sometimes feel reluctant to allow things to go unspoken, worried that their audience will miss it, but having faith in younger readers to pick up on the underlying themes and characters without the author expressly saying it can lead to a richer story. Schmidt's eagerness to spell things out also comes to play when balancing the realism of the novel.

Doug is a member of a poor family and his father is abusive, but the severity is mostly hinted around aside from one, major incident. Doug's reaction to it underscores its regularity - he knows how to avoid it, knows what will trigger it, and mostly acts like it is part of his life, which it is. Schmidt never falls into the trap of an afterschool special, but focuses on Doug, not just as a child abuse victim, but a fully-realized character with traits completely separated from the abuse. His smart-aleck comments are genuinely funny, his narration feels real, and his character arc is superb.

Unfortunately, Schmidt cannot quite hold onto this realism. About three-quarters into the book, the story rushes to reassure the reader that it will all work out in the end: the teachers and librarian who previously ostracized and tormented Doug for his shady brother all have secrets that excuse their bad behavior, or they experience a miraculous change of heart; Mrs. Windemere coincidentally happens to have a first-edition book of Aaron Copland's music that Doug uses to barter for the puffins plate; Mr. Gregory, a Broadway producer, happens to need an actress to play a part which happens to be perfect for Lil Spicer; Professor Peattie, who previously told Doug that all of the teachers had given up on him and he would amount to nothing, suddenly tells Doug that he will go wherever he wants to go in life; Lucas comes back from the war and finds a job when he most needs it; and, most damning, the father who forced a "Mama's Baby" tattoo on his twelve-year-old son and regularly beat his sons so as not to show bruises suddenly recants his ways and shares a sentimental moment with his wife.

There is a line of suspended disbelief that readers and authors agree upon; readers will happily approach the line, willing to take a great many far-fetched coincidences and quirky characters and miraculous events on faith, but the author must carefully know exactly where the line is to avoid crossing it completely. Schmidt, in this at least, has missed the mark. There is something to be said for a young boy realizing that the two-dimensional jerks he has previously assumed people to be are more than that, with their own rich inner lives, but when every single one turns out to be secretly a good person, it strains belief, and readers quite rightly balk. To put it simply, some people are jerks because they are jerks. They are not the bully in a 1980s film, who only bullies others because of the abuse he faces at home; they are jerks. In some ways, this is an even more important lesson to learn than that people have their own rich inner lives and may be secretly good, simply because it is a much harder one to learn. And in the case of a child abuser, his inner life must be very rich indeed to make up for such a heinous sin. Schmidt comes very close to pulling these unlikely turns of events off, but crosses one coincidence too many for the ending to feel genuine.

Additionally, the setting is in 1968, but aside from some obligatory references to space missions, a few ironic comments from oddly prescient teachers that were old when Back to the Future made them (An actor as a president? How absurd!), peppered slang from the sixties, and Lucas's return, the historical part of this historical fiction is never fully realized. Lucas returns from the Vietnam War, but could have just as easily returned from World War II, or Desert Storm, or the Iraq War. Though the connection of the possibility of space travel and all it represents with the way Doug blooms is a good one, there is never a moment of solidity that confirms that 1968 is the only time that this story could have taken place. In some ways, that speaks to the universality of the story, but in others, it makes the "history" part feel lacking. Historical novels are difficult to pull off, because while references to the time period and period-appropriate slang are essential to pulling off an atmosphere, they are not enough by themselves.

And yet, there is something here that deserves to be noticed. When Doug's mother meets Lucas at the bus station and does not hesitate over the bandages over his eyes or the space where his legs used to be, but just holds his face in her hands and kisses him while her blue coat spreads like wings over them, or when Doug finds a drawing of dead bodies with a simple note at the bottom saying, "My Lai. I was there", it's hard not to get a chill. It is in the small moments that Schmidt excels. There are too many neat ends, but where Schmidt allows them to be frayed and ragged, the prose shines. It is not in the neat and happy endings that Schmidt finds his place, but in the ones that are uncertain and bitter and angry. Giving his villains backstories and characterization and making them three-dimensional works, but only if he allows them to stay villains.

As a story, Okay for Now is compelling enough, though the plot threads are all a little too neatly tied up at the end to be believable; as historical fiction, it feels oddly lacking. Historical fiction should, ideally, capture the spirit and atmosphere of a time. Novels set during the Great Depression should hint at the desperation of the times, underscored by uncertainty; novels set during WWI should reflect the betrayal and horror and existential crisis that marked the time; and novels set in the 1960s should do more than parrot old jokes and bring in constant references to the space race and the Vietnam War, or at least have something more meaningful to say about them. Doug is a likable enough character, with real problems and real people in his life; had the story kept with that, Okay for Now could have made up for its lack of historical atmosphere. The too-tidy ending and urge to shield the reader from any possibility of bad things, particularly in a novel that deals with both child abuse and the Vietnam War, leaves this novel feeling a little flat. show less

After reading and loving multiple stories by Schmidt, I decided that when I had the chance, I’d collect whatever of his books I could find when thrift shopping. Lizzie Bright is a book I picked up at one stage, but unfortunately, my first copy had a lot of distracting annotations in it, so I wasn’t able to get into the story. Eventually, I found another annotation-free copy, and got to enjoy it.

In my opinion, this isn’t one of Schmidt’s best books, but there was much to love in these show more pages anyway!

Schmidt does an excellent job of striking a balance between humor and gravity. This story as a whole is generally sad and/or hard, but I found myself laughing even when the situation was difficult because of the masterful way Schmidt told the story.

For example, I was tickled in the first few pages when Turner first thinks about “lighting out for the Territories”. That’s a phrase that appears multiple times through the book, and always at just the right time—it’s a ludicrous thought, but something that helped Turner get through a difficult situation, and it was perfect for the story. Or there’s the old lady who is determined to have the grandest-ever last words; it’s a theme throughout the book, and the resolution to that one was surprising and hilarious!

Other parts of this book aren’t so easy. Lizzie’s story is heartbreaking, and I loved watching her befriend Turner even though she and her family were going through a rough time. The racism she and her community experienced was terrible, and Schmidt does a great job at showing us the effects of racism not just on those who receive the injustice, but also on those who embrace wrong attitudes.

If you’re looking for a gripping, heart-touching historical read that will make you think, I’d recommend you read this book. It’s an unusual story, and not the easiest to read, but well worth taking the time for. Also, be sure to read the author’s note at the end—I found it fascinating to see how he used historical facts as the framework for this story. show less

This was our family’s most recent evening read-aloud, and I must say…I think it’s one of the best we’ve read this year, and we’ve had some gems in the lineup! I knew, after reading The Wednesday Wars, that I wanted to read this story, too, but I never suspected the depth and breadth of this story. It was a wild, wonderful ride.

Characters: This book has well-formed, relatable characters. I loved to hate some of them, and I rooted for others about as much as you possibly can with show more fictional characters. These—well, Doug, especially—drew me into the story and kept me riveted.

Plot: This story kept me guessing! Just when you think you’ve figured out where things are going, something always comes up to change things all over again. This book has a depth I haven’t seen in many stories. Not only does it deal with a dysfunctional family and the historical landscape of the late 1960s, but it’s also a heartfelt story of friendship, discovery, and hope in a life that would be more easily written off than helped.

Storytelling: Schmidt is a genius. He breaks some of the major writing rules (don’t repeat yourself, don’t switch tenses in the middle of the scene, and more), and you don’t even notice because you care too much about what’s going on on the page. He takes you into Doug’s world, and you tend to forget everything else.

If you want your heart to be broken and then stolen by a kid who could easily be the town jerk (and who has relatives who are definitely the town jerks), read this book. If you enjoy stories that deal with the nitty-grittiness of life while still giving some hope for redemption, read this book. And hey, even if you just love birds or Audubon, read this book. You won’t regret it. I finished it nearly two weeks ago, but I still don’t feel totally recovered from it, and I think that’s okay. If I could give this story six stars instead of five, I would—it’s a keeper! show less