His name is Tyrell. I'm old enough to be his mother. Oh, and he's a fictional character. But when I think of him I get all smiley and mushy on the inside.
I just have a thing for this guy. Having grown up in Brooklyn, this Bronx boy feels familiar, like my childhood.I knew kids like him. Smart, thinking, charming who seemed to have it so much rougher than so many much less interesting twits, uh, fellow classmates. I was alway drawn to kids like this. I wished I had half of what they did to get by.
I read this book slowly over several evenings. I knew Tyrell was not destined for an easy happily ever after but I wanted to be there, hoping he'd make it through as best he could. One morning I woke up wondering if Tyrell would be OK today. I really thought he was out there, struggling to get out of that roach infested shelter.
My daughter had a totally miserable day at school today. Too many things went wrong for one kid to handle. I found myself wondering how Tyrell could handle so much. I believe he could and he did. I tried hard to find the inner strength not to cry along with my kid but to offer some useful, empowering advice. I just wish I knew exactly how to help. Real life is so tough sometimes.Especially for teenagers. How great when a book really captures that.
Coe Booth, everything about your book is a'ight. Thanks.