Kate Reed Petty

Empowering graphic novel on the subject of journalism and water pollution -- 12 year old Ruthie starts with a personal newsletter and ends up calling out a major polluter. Along the way, school pressure to kiss her crush, lying to achieve her aims (which does not go well) and political pressure come to bear as her work gets noticed on social media. Love Ruthie's courage of conviction, love that her persistent cavities lead her to figure out that her own tapwater is suspect, love how much she show more learns about personal integrity. Love the classroom focus on Flint, MI and the water supply there. I think the penis graffiti story is hilarious, and will draw in readers, but I fear it might turn off adults before they get the chance to see what a great story this is. show less

I wrote it my own way. I made it a thriller, a horror, a memoir, a noir. I used my college essays, emails and other found documents to ground the story in truth--they're the closest thing I have to "evidence," proof that my memories, however few, are real.

What does it mean when the worst happens and you can't remember it? A drunk teen-age girl is given a lift home by two members of the lacrosse team. She only found out what happened in the car because the boys bragged about it. A man goes to show more an isolated mountain cabin for a final bender before he gives up drinking, for real this time. He doesn't know how the accident happened, but he'll carry the evidence of it with him for the rest of his life. A wealthy entrepreneur hires a woman to ghost write his motivational self-help book.

Kate Reed Petty uses the tropes of different genres and a variety of characters to explore memory and how an event can shape a life even if the person doesn't remember what happened. I enjoy novels that use the conventions of genre to dig more deeply than genre usually permits, and this one was so well done. There's a central story that emerges and as the different seemingly disparate threads come together, the novel twists into different things as it goes. There are screenplays written by middle-schoolers, emails, and sections that fall into different genres, that combine to form a cohesive, and very interesting whole. I'll be thinking about this one for some time to come. show less

This is a book that, once I got into it, I could not put it down. It is yet another book about writing and storytelling, but I find that this subject always seems fresh to me, and here the subject is telling your own story--how do you do that when you aren't even sure what your story is? It uses the tropes of horror to good effect, resulting in a kind of "found footage" novel. I also thought the insights into both alcoholism and abuse were particularly sharp. Different and dark, another show more winner from the Shirley Jackson Award shortlist. show less

In 1999, seventeen year old Alice accepts a lift home from a party. Drunk, she passes out, and is horrified when the next morning she hears the two lacrosse players have been bragging about sexually assaulting her while she was unconscious. Though the boys quickly retract their boasts when confronted by the police, the claim continues to haunt Alice, who has no memory of the night and therefore never knows which story is true.

Though the premise of True Story is reasonably straightforward, show more it’s execution is unconventional. Described as genre-defying, which is reflected in the novel’s unusual cover, the story covers a period of about fifteen years. The narrative shifts between two perspectives, that of Alice, and a friend of the two boys, Nick, and utilises various formats to examine the direct and indirect aftermath of that night.

“I wrote it my own way. I made it a thriller, a horror, a memoir, a noir. I used my college essays, emails, and other found documents to ground the story in the truth—they’re the closest thing I have to “evidence,” proof that my memories, however few, are real.... We’ll have to call it fiction, of course (we both know the danger in presenting a woman’s story as truth). But I’m trusting you to see this is true. And even if you don’t believe—even if nobody believes me again—I will know this is true, because I made it; because it’s mine.”

At its core I think True Story explores the complex intersection of truth and belief, with Petty suggesting that the concepts are more fragile and interchangeable than we like to acknowledge. For Alice the truth of what happened that night is unknowable, she can’t trust the word of the boys involved, and while Nick is convinced that nothing happened, Alice’s cousin, Haley, is equally sure something did.

“It’s your story,” you would say. “If you don’t let it out, it will take over your life.” But the story is mine only as the victim owns the prosecution, or the whale the harpoon. Telling it has always been the privilege of the perpetrators, who have the actual facts, and of the bystanders—like you—who believe they know.”

Without the truth, Alice lacks control of the narrative, and this leaves her struggling to trust herself, leading to her becoming ensnared in an abusive relationship. This contrasts sharply with Nick’s capability for self-deception, he never doubts that what he believes to be true, is.

I appreciated, rather than enjoyed, True Story. I did find it provocative and interesting but I think it has more literary than genre appeal, and I prefer the latter. show less