Tomorrow, Maybe

It can be a world of shadows, ghosts, haunted memories, and shame. But it can also be freedom, beauty, and solidarity bred of understanding. Every street kid has their story--they don't ask, but they know. For Gretchen, it was her Stepmother. Continued life under the same roof as her: impossible. At 15, she still feels like the baby, even though it's been two years. Two years learning to love the morning, before the city wakes up. Loving life while the sun is rising. Liking it less once there's a world to see. Two years on the streets take their toll. Lately, it's the dream of getting out that keeps Gretchen going.

Until Elizabeth.

Tiny, cold, and silent, she arrives one night on the stairs. It's not a place Gretchen usually stays. Still, show more she can't help but take a stand. They tell her a kid that young will only be trouble. But all she sees is someone who needs her. Someone to take care of. From that moment on, Elizabeth is hers.

At first it's simple. Easy enough to make Elizabeth smile. Easy to be happy just because she is. Then people start to drift, police start to raid, life gets more and more out of control. The streets aren't as fun anymore. The dream seems farther and farther away. Today isn't enough, tomorrow slips from her reach. Only the finality of total loss can bring resolution. show less

While this book didn't blow me away I was impressed with the author's style. I felt myself being drawn into these children's lives and caring about them. Having never been on the streets and homeless myself, I can only imagine what they go through, but to be that young is just beyond me in how they cope. It breaks my heart to know there are children out in the world that feel safer in the streets than at home. A sad fact, but a true one.

there's a certain genre of music, in which earnest young men with acoustic guitars sing at a very high pitch of their undying love for someone or other, or of the Injustice Of It All...I call it the whiny-sensitive-guy genre. And I cannot stand to listen to it. This would be the literary equivalent. Perhaps the author thinks that watching boats go up and down the Hudson from his balcony gives him some sort of insight into the street kids of NYC. Perhaps he never leaves that balcony, so he truly believes that they all come in nice neat little boxes and all come to nice neat happy endings. Suffice to say, the characters are cardboard, the heroine obnoxious and the writing just too precious for words...

I loved this book, it was a surprisingly, fast paced, emotional read. I highly recommend it.