Lauren Roedy Vaughn

Going in to OCD, the Dude, and Me, I was expecting a fun contemporary read with a smart and sarcastic main character who would go through some sort of life-altering experience that would leave me content and with a smile on my face. In some ways, I was correct, because that WAS how the book left me. But I was not expecting to feel as many emotions as I did while reading Danielle's story, and especially wasn't expecting that several of the passages in the book would bring tears to my eyes. show more Calling this book a fun or light contemporary read is doing it a pretty large disservice, because there is a lot going on here, even if it is delivered with a quick, sharp and self-deprecating wit that makes you laugh ... right before it makes you cry.

Danielle is a very unique narrator. She suffers from extreme OCD, which she deals with through a lot of self-made coping mechanisms (not least of which is reorganizing her snow globe collection and trying on a myriad of hats). However, she also very clearly hates herself as well, putting down her looks, her weight, and the fact that she exists at all pretty much non-stop. The degree of her self-loathing is incredibly apparent to the reader, who experiences this book - and Danielle's story - via journal entries (or me-moir entries), emails between her and her aunt (and later, Daniel), letters from a pen pal, and her writing assignments for her English class. (The letters to a made-up mental health committee about her social skills class were the ones that made me LOL the loudest, I have to admit!) Because Danielle suffers from OCD, each of these entries is meticulously titled so that the reader essentially gets the story of Danielle's senior year in chronological order. My only complaint about this method of delivery was that the font used for Justine's letters was a little hard for me to read, particularly since it's a script font in a pretty small type size. Actually, that's my ONLY complaint about this entire book, which tells you just how much of an impact this story had on my personally.

Everyone in existence has at least one thing about them that they don't like, but for Danielle, the things she hates about herself far outnumber what she likes, which made this an extremely difficult book for me to read at times. I've read books that have characters who don't like themselves, but I truly believe that Danielle took this hatred to a whole new level. Some of her entries were so incredibly poignant that I had to put the book down for a bit to sort of wrap my head around the emotions this fictional character was making me feel. I don't understand mental illness, because I don't suffer from any form of it, and while there are definitely things about myself that I'd want to change, nothing is to the extreme that Danielle feels. It doesn't help that she is pretty much the butt of her classmates' jokes, the social outcast, and the one who is easily left behind. Her entire state of mind is just so incredibly unhealthy, and every time that fact was driven home for the reader I just almost couldn't deal with it. No one should have to experience what she goes through (and if I could have strangled Jacob, I definitely would have), and yet it's precisely what teens deal with every single day in high school, which - as a teacher - made it even more difficult for me to handle. But her story was so phenomenal, so incredibly well-written, that I couldn't look away from it and could only hope that she would eventually find some joy.

And I cannot write this review without at least mentioning Daniel. I don't know what it is about these contemporary debut authors and their fabulous best friend characters, but we have another winner in Daniel. He's quick-witted, surprisingly brash, over-the-top, and shocking, and yet I adored him from the very second he appeared on the page (and him telling Lisa off in class in defense of Danielle! Amazing). So much love for this stubborn, crude boy.

Honestly, I fear I am not doing this book the amount of justice I should with this review, so let me just say that I found this book incredibly difficult to read, but utterly worthwhile. Everything about it was just amazingly well done, from Danielle's internal feelings, to the ways the people around her tried to help her cope with what she was going through. There were plenty of things to make you laugh, and plenty of others to make you cry. And any book that can put a reader through those extremes deserves the highest rating I can give it, and I do so now without any reservations whatsoever. show less

The description of this book sounds like the plot of just about every young adult novel ever written, but stick with me – OCD, the Dude, and Me isn’t an ordinary misfit story. Danielle has frizzy red hair, a plus-size body, a sarcastic attitude, and (as the title indicates) clinically diagnosed OCD, which makes for an extremely difficult social life. As she navigates through her final year of high school, she writes a series of self-aware and highly personal essays for her English class, show more which lands her a series of appointments with the school psychologist and enrollment in a “social skills” class for other teenage misfits. Danielle is determined to keep everyone at arm’s length, but when she meets Daniel, another social outcast who is obsessed with The Big Lebowski, she finds herself warming to her witty and unusual new friend.

This book was fantastic. I picked it up initially because I wanted to see how the author dealt with the concept of teenagers and mental illness. Much to my delight, she treated the subject with dignity, accuracy, and compassion – a surprising feat, considering OCD has become a term to describe anyone with a perfectionist streak, rather than an actual debilitating mental disease. But I digress…

Danielle is one of the most relatable young adult heroines I’ve read about in a long time. She’s not a wilting-flower-damsel-in-distress-love-obsessed-gloomy teenager girl who happens to be the most desirable person in the history of forever. She’s a complex, confused, frustrated teen who is constricted by the traditional expectations set by her teacher and her family, and she reminded me a lot of myself in high school. In fact, there were a couple places in the book when I had to put the book down because of how strong my emotional reaction was.

The entire book is constructed out of diary entries, essays, and e-mails – not a particularly new format in the world of young adult literature, but it is immensely effective. Danielle’s voice comes through with complete clarity and honesty, and the author is able to avoid creating a narcissistic main character who spends too much time inside their head while the real world is passing them by. (One of my pet peeves when it comes to YA novels…l’m looking at you, Bella Swan.)
Now, I have to admit that I’ve never seen The Big Lebowski, so I wasn’t able to relate to Danielle’s newfound obsession with the movie. The good news, however, is that fans of The Dude will definitely enjoy the last half of the book, and even if you’re not a Lebowski fan, you can still understand the excitement that comes from finding something new to relate to.

Ultimately, the message of the book is hope – hope of finding new friends, hope of finding a place to belong, and hope of overcoming adversity. And considering how strong my reactions were, I’m really glad the book ended on a positive note. This is a novel I will happily recommend to male and female readers of all ages, because this story really does transcend gender & age boundaries.

Readalikes:

Eleanor & Park – Rainbow Rowell. This has more of a romantic angle than OCD, but both stories are told through first person perspectives, by complex, outcast characters.

Just Listen – Sarah Dessen. The interior lives of these main characters are slowly revealed as each girl struggles to find her identity. Each girl also forms a powerful friendship with a fellow male outcast, who helps them on their journey to self-discovery.

Please Ignore Vera Dietz – A.S. King. Don’t be turned off by the angsty tone of these novels – both books feature complex characters, a touch of dark humor, and an unusual format (OCD is told through journal entries and essays, while Vera Dietz has a nonlinear storyline). show less

In Danielle’s senior year archive is made up of her school papers with teacher commentary, emails, and letters all containing her hilarious musings on being adopted, her red hair and size 10 body, and her growing obsession with Jacob, the stereotypical popular high school boy. Danielle is determined that her last year at her alternative high school will be no different than all the others, and she is especially dreading the class trip to England. Her attitude begins to change after her show more school counselor forces her to attend a social skills group where she meets Daniel, a gay boy who introduces her to The Big Lebowski. More than anyone else, Daniel is able to understand Danielle’s quirks and how she has been shaped by the traumatic loss in her past. By the time she graduates, Danielle’s life is radically transformed through new friendships and strengthened relationships with family and mentors. A unique and surprising story told through the voice of a high school misfit whose delightful eccentricities and foibles will be relatable for many students who have struggled to fit in. The hodge-podge journal-entry style of the writing will be inviting to reluctant readers as well. Highly recommended. Ages 14 & up. show less

OCD, The Dude, and Me by Lauren Roedy Vaughn is a realistic fiction novel for mature readers. This novel made the 2015 Taysha List, which is the "high school" level suggested reading list put out by the Texas Library Association, but it is reviewed for grades 7+.

Danielle Levine moved and started a new school her 9th grade year after an event left her with some mental issues. The novel is completely from Danielle's point of view through her 12th grade year. She writes in her "me-moire" about show more her life, so the reader really sees her obsessions--hence, the OCD. She believes she is 20 pounds overweight with red curly (frizzy) hair and a hat thing. She wears different hats to deal with life along with her writing. Throughout this senior year, we learn that the other students see Danielle as who she is--rather strange but ok. She, however, obsesses about their opinion of her. They, as well as we the reader, come to know why Danielle writes and wears her hats and no longer consider her strange. We understand, which is one of the lessons of the novel: what happens to people isn't known so accept people as they are instead of judging.

Senior year is an interesting year of life because you're still in school and dependent on your parents and your hometown while at the same time you are planning for the future, which hopefully is 70 years long. Planning how to set the foundation for an entire life can be daunting. Danielle can't even think about college because she is mired in the past. At the beginning of the novel, you see her severe OCD. She's barely functioning--there's no way she could be on her own making decisions and dealing with the punches that life throws. As the novel progresses, Danielle asks people--her teacher, her counselor, and her friends--about life. By the end of the year, she's a functioning member of society. Was the journey easy? No.

What I like about the novel are the messages--there are a lot of them, which the author could have saved for future books, but they are good nonetheless. If you like to write quotes from books, you'll be writing a lot from this one! There's one main message that pulls the book together at the end, making the book worth reading. I think a lot of you may start the book and stop because Danielle seems so selfish and the first person point of view is overwhelming from this OCD mental case. Yes, you do find out what happened that caused the OCD, but it's not important until the end. It is worth finishing and contemplating how you want to abide life. show less