Here be spoilers...

Based on my experiences as a foster parent, it's hard for me to read books that deal with either child abuse or missing children. Where Things Come Back by John Corey Whaley is a book about the latter. 

If you haven't been in that situation, it's hard to imagine how horrible it is to have someone you love just vanish — whether it's voluntarily or involuntary. You go to bed every night wondering where they are; and despite your best efforts when you're lying awake at 2 a.m. trying to remain positive, the very worst thoughts still manage to creep in. The missing child's parents, siblings and friends all cycle through the different stages of grief without ever having a body to grieve over. 

In the case of Where Things Come Back, the missing person is 15-year-old Gabriel Witter, who one day vanishes from his small Arkansas town. The story's told from the point of view of Gabriel's older brother, Cullen, whose anguish about his brother is juxtaposed against the town's fervor over the rumor that the Lazarus woodpecker, a bird previously thought extinct, has been discovered living in the woods nearby. The tale of the woodpecker, of vanished Gabriel, and of two disillusioned young men obsessed with an obscure biblical mystery all blend together as the story progresses. (Trust me, it makes sense as you read on...) Cullen comes to resent the search for the bird (if it actually exists), which appears to be garnering more interest and public resources than that of his missing brother. The young Christians, Benton Sage and Cabbot Searcy, whose tale is told in third person, are equally disillusioned by the belief that humankind's destiny was subverted by God. As you can probably guess from the names of the characters and the bird, biblical lore plays a huge role in the book's main theme about how blind faith can drive people to madness.

​I'm not a fast reader, but I tore through this book pretty quickly, caught up in the mystery behind Gabriel's disappearance and anxious to know how it all turned out. It's the sign of a good author when he can actually invoke the same emotions in the reader as he's displaying in his characters, and in this respect Where Things Come Back performs brilliantly. 

I enjoyed the parts of the book told from Cullen's perspective more than the third-person narrative about Benton and Cabbot, mostly because the latter began to read like a dissertation after a while, propelling the story forward but without the same passion. Part of Cullen's appeal is he sounds and acts like an authentic teenager. His affection for his brother is credible and compelling, not an easy trick since Gabriel's missing through most of the story. Although Cullen's the older brother, he admits that Gabriel's more responsible, more interesting, and frankly, more cool than he. And he says this without a trace of resentment. It's a refreshing change from how most teenage siblings are depicted in young adult fiction, their relationships often characterized by resentment and one-upmanship. 

Some readers of Where Things Come Back were upset with the story's ambiguous ending. Actually, this didn't bother me. Stories about missing children are often ambiguous in real life — people go missing and nobody ever knows what happened to them. But if I had one problem with the ending, it was that it seemed abrupt, as though certain other plot elements were dropped without being fully explained. Still, it was an enjoyable read which I highly recommend if you don't find the subject matter too disturbing. Better for ages fourteen and up, I think.

Organized as a series of letters written to an unnamed person, Stephen Chbosky's The Perks of Being a Wallflower  walks us through the tumultuous freshman year of a teen named Charlie. The protagonist is writing these missives to someone he doesn't even know, partly because he's lonely, partly because he's codependent, and partly because he has a few things he needs to get off his chest. I suppose its his version of spilling his guts to a bartender, someone who's disconnected from the action and impartial about Charlie's role in it all. And the reader gets to come along for the ride.

Now this book isn't plot-driven and I know some readers hate it when a story takes a very non-linear course without a discernible beginning, middle or end. However, I enjoy books like this and Chbosky does a good job of setting up some early points of tension and then building on them as the book progresses. This all starts with Charlie recounting his grief when his best friend from junior high commits suicide. Charlie feels like he's the only person still grieving the loss and this colors a lot of the other things he experiences. It also paints the protagonist as an unusually sensitive kid. He cries a lot — and I mean a lot! He doesn't seem to be embarrassed about how easily he's moved to tears and initially we're not sure why he's so fragile. We do know that he suffered another loss early on when his beloved aunt Helen was killed in an automobile accident the day before his birthday. While Charlie does have a supportive family, it's difficult for them to understand or even effectively deal with his daily dramatics. What's worse is that he feels like he's being slowly abandoned. His older brother has left for college and his sister's about to follow suit. On top of it all, Charlie's in a new school where he's quickly pegged as a freak. 

Still, Charlie begins to reach out. His language arts teacher is so impressed with his writing ability that he piles on extra assignments and gives the boy a stack of classic novels to read — all of which results in a deep friendship between the two. But things really begin to turn around when Charlie meets Samantha and Patrick, a feisty step-brother and sister duo who take him under their collective wings and provide the nonjudgmental friendship he really desires. Both graduating seniors, Sam and Patrick introduce their sheltered charge to the antics of the Rocky Horror Picture Show, high school parties, hangovers, hash brownies and even his first romantic encounters. But none of this is meant to corrupt the boy. There's true affection between the three friends. Unfortunately, Charlie's so socially awkward that he doesn't know how to be a good friend in return. He stays silent when he should speak up. He mistakes lying for being supportive; and when truthful he's often tragically undiplomatic. Still, the reader can forgive Charlie for all this because we haven't forgotten that there's still something just a little off about him. When it's finally revealed why Charlie's so emotionally damaged, it's handled with great tact and the reader's so invested in the character that you have nothing but sympathy for him. 

The strength of Chbosky's writing is his ability to create a distinctive voice. You can almost hear Charlie resonating through your head with all his inflections, hesitations and peculiarities. He becomes a fully realized person — a surprisingly rare thing in modern young adult fiction which tends to be filled with teenage clichés and stereotypes. This book, like Charlie, is a real keeper.

RELATED: LGBTQ | Young Adult Collection

Can you believe it's been a decade since not-so-openly gay Simon Spier made the choice — one way or another — to exit the closet? While coming out stories are nothing new, Becky Albertalli's best-seller Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda created a YA sensation which led to a theatrical version called Love, Simon; and a three-season television show spin-off called Love, Victor. 

You can celebrate the ten-year anniversary of the book with a stunning DELUXE LIMITED PAPERBACK EDITION from HarperCollins, while supplies last. This 400 page edition includes gorgeous specs, making the package as beautiful as the read, and features new bonus content from Becky herself, including emails between Simon and Blue and Oreo recipes from Simon! ORDER HERE.

​If you haven't had the pleasure of reading the book, I'm posting my original review from 2016 below: 

I’ve had the opportunity to review a few books featuring LGBTQ youth which, as you might expect, have ranged from bad to excellent. Some young adult authors are clearly adding gay characters to their books because, I surmise, they feel it’s expected by modern teen and Millennial readers who are historically open-minded on the subject. While tokenism is annoying, it appears to be a waning trend as more and more YA authors like John Green, David Levithan, Maggie Stiefvater and Stephen Chbosky provide us with authentic LGBTQ characters. Now you can add Becky Albertalli happily, gleefully to this list.  

​Albertalli’s Simon vs the Homo Sapiens Agenda is perhaps more accurately a gay romance than a coming out story. The titular character is a 16-year-old high school student who has largely come to terms with his sexuality but is still dragging his feet about coming clean with friends and family. In fact, the only person he’s shared his sexuality with is an unknown classmate nicknamed “Blue” whom he met through his school’s Tumblr page and communicates with entirely through Gmail. The honest missives he shares with Blue are slowly giving Simon more confidence, even though their relationship is inherently dishonest. After all, it's a romance which exists only in a virtual world where people can be anyone they want or anyone you want them to be. Both boys are reluctant to break this spell by revealing themselves to the other.

Yet their carefully cultivated secrecy is endangered when a schoolmate named Martin accidentally intercepts their email exchanges and blackmails Simon into helping him win over a female classmate. When this arrangement doesn’t go as planned, Martin outs Simon on the same Tumblr page where he and Blue met. Rather than caving to this attempted humiliation, Simon owns the truth and with his gay identity now revealed, becomes even more determined to meet Blue in person.

If I have one big criticism of this book, it’s that Simon’s very public outing does not result in any substantial trauma. Although there are a handful of homophobic incidents following the revelation, Simon’s family, friends and teachers are overwhelmingly supportive. While I have no problem showing gay teens receiving the moral and emotional support they deserve, Albertalli notes on multiple occasions that the book’s setting of the Deep South is perhaps not the best place for a young man to come out.  But since Simon doesn’t seem to have any real fear of being ostracized, and in fact doesn’t experience any serious prejudice, Simon vs the Homo Sapiens Agenda sends some mixed signals on this particular subject.

Regardless, the book is proudly optimistic and ultimately resolves itself as a sweet story about a boy’s first love. For gay teens struggling to find themselves, whether they live in the Deep South or not, it’s important for them to have hope through the written word. In this respect, Simon vs the Homo Sapiens Agenda fits the bill nicely.

​RELATED: My Books  |  LGBTQ Collection