Available:*
Library | Material Type | Item Barcode | Shelf Number | Status |
|---|---|---|---|---|
Searching... Avon-Washington Township Public Library | Teen Fiction Book Paperback | 120791002678890 | T AND | Searching... Unknown |
Bound With These Titles
On Order
Summary
Summary
Philadelphia high school who doesn't care about the prom. It's pretty much the only good thing that happens there, and everyone plans to make the most of it--especially Ash's best friend, Natalia, who's the head of the committee and has prom stars in her eyes. Then the faculty advisor is busted for taking the prom money and Ash finds herself roped into putting together a gala dance. But she has plenty of help--from her large and loving (if exasperating!) family, from Nat's eccentric grandmother, from the principal, from her fellow classmates. And in making the prom happen, Ash learns some surprising things about making her life happen, too.
Reviews (2)
School Library Journal Review
Gr 8 Up-Ashley is a high school senior trying to serve out her detentions between seeing her boyfriend, TJ, and occasionally going to class in this novel by Laurie Halse Anderson (Viking, 2005). She doesn't plan on attending the upcoming prom, but after the math teacher steals the funds for the big event, Ashley sees how much the dance means to her friends and decides to do whatever she can to make it happen. Actress Katherine Kellgren reads at a rapid pace with her extremely versatile voice. The novel is told in the first person, and Kellgren changes both pitch and tone for the different characters. This is especially pronounced with the nasal tones of the voices of Ashley's mother and aunts. The accent seems to be more New Jersey or New York City than Philadelphia, where the novel takes place, but this won't bother listeners who will be entertained by the marvelous, diverse vocal changes. Since some chapters are quite short, one sentence or one paragraph, the reading of the chapter numbers can be distracting. Teens will be delighted with this sincere yet humorous tale.-Claudia Moore, W.T. Woodson High School, Fairfax, VA (c) Copyright 2010. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Publisher's Weekly Review
"This energetic novel, narrated by Ashley, offers snappy commentary about high-school life, and some priceless scenes," wrote PW. Ages 14-up. (Feb.) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved
Excerpts
Excerpts
1. Once upon a time there was an eighteen-year-old girl who dragged her butt out of bed and hauled it all the way to school on a sunny day in May. 2. That was me. 3. Normal kids (like me) thought high school was cool for the first three days in ninth grade. Then it became a big yawn, the kind of yawn that showed the fillings in your teeth and the white stuff on your tongue you didn't scrape off with your toothbrush. Sometimes I wondered why I bothered. Normal kids (me again), we weren't going to college, no matter what anybody said. I could read and write and add and do nails and fix hair and cook a chicken. I could defend myself and knew which streets were cool at night and which neighborhoods a white girl like me should never, ever wander in. So why keep showing up for class? Blame my fifth-grade teacher. Ms. Valencia knew she was teaching a group of normal kids. She knew our parents and our neighborhood. Couple times a week she'd go off on how we absolutely, positively had to graduate from high school, diploma and all (like the GED didn't count, which was cold), or else we were going straight to hell, with a short detour by Atlantic City to lose all our money in the slot machines. She made an impression, know what I mean? Every kid who was in that fifth-grade class with me was graduating, except for the three who were in jail, the two who kept having babies, the one who ran away, and the two crack whores. The rest of us, we were getting by. I was getting by. 4. It had been a decent morning, for a Tuesday. No meltdowns at home. The perverts outside the shelter left me alone, and the Rottweiler on Seventh was chained up. A bus splashed through the puddle at the corner of Bonventura and Elk, but only my sneakers got soaked. It could have been worse. At least the sun was shining and some of my homework was done. So I got to admit, I was in a half-decent mood that morning, dragging myself and my butt to school. I had no clue what was coming Excerpted from Prom by Laurie Halse Anderson All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.Table of Contents
| 1 Once upon a time there was an eighteen-year-old girl who dragged her butt out of bed and hauled it all the way to school on a sunny day in May. |
| 2 That was me. |
| 3 Normal kids (like me) thought high school was cool for the first three days in ninth grade. Then it became a big yawn, the kind of yawn that showed the fillings in your teeth and the white stuff on your tongue you didn't scrape off with your toothbrush. |
| Sometimes I wondered why I bothered. Normal kids (me again), we weren't going to college, no matter what anybody said. I could read and write and add and do nails and fix hair and cook a chicken. I could defend myself and knew which streets were cool at night and which neighborhoods a white girl like me should never, ever wander in. |
| So why keep showing up for class? |
| Blame my fifth-grade teacher. |
| Ms. Valencia knew she was teaching a group of normal kids. She knew our parents and our neighborhood. Couple times a week she'd go off on how we absolutely, positively had to graduate from high school, diploma and all (like the GED didn't count, which was cold), or else we were going straight to hell, with a short detour by Atlantic City to lose all our money in the slot machines. She made an impression, know what I mean? |
| Every kid who was in that fifth-grade class with me was graduating, except for the three who were in jail, the two who kept having babies, the one who ran away, and the two crack whores. |
| The rest of us, we were getting by. |
| I was getting by. |
| 4 It had been a decent morning, for a Tuesday. No meltdowns at home. The perverts outside the shelter left me alone, and the Rottweiler on Seventh was chained up. A bus splashed through the puddle at the corner of Bonventura and Elk, but only my sneakers got soaked. It could have been worse. At least the sun was shining and some of my homework was done. |
| So I got to admit, I was in a half-decent mood that morning, dragging myself and my butt to school. |
| I had no clue what was coming |