Cover Reveal: The Five Stages of Andrew Brawley, by Shaun David Hutchinson

I consider myself very lucky to have Shaun not only as a friend, but as a critique partner. He had his debut novel, THE DEATHDAY LETTER, published just as I started blogging, but he was never anything but kind and humble, always offering not only brilliant feedback on my own work, but truly inspiring support and encouragement as well. He has become one of the greatest mentors in my own writing that a guy could ever ask for.

But today isn't about me.

It's about Shaun, and the cover his amazing new novel: THE FIVE STAGES OF ANDREW BRAWLEY, which is a beautiful, heart-rendingly sad, but ultimately important book.

Without further ado, here is the gorgeous cover:

Can we talk for a minute about how much I love this cover? Okay? Okay.

I suppose you'll have to read the book before you understand why I love this model so much, but even before that, I can tell you this: when I first saw this cover and the model, I wasn't sure. I'd pictured Andrew as a little older, and a little ... more ... jaded? I don't know. That's not the right word. But since looking this model in the eye for a while, I've decided that he has the perfect balance of innocence and determination in his eyes.

Andrew Brawley is one of my favorite YA characters EVER, and I'm pleased to say that I think this cover model captures him perfectly.

Before I go into what else I like about this cover, let me show you the jacket copy (which I think may be revealed here first, because Goodreads doesn't seem to have it yet):

Andrew Brawley was supposed to die that night, along with the rest of his family.

Now he lives in the hospital, serving food in the cafeteria, hanging out with the nurses, and sleeping in a forgotten supply closet. Drew blends in to near invisibility, hiding from his past, his guilt, and those who are trying to find him. His only solace is in the superhero he’s created, Patient F, and the drawing he does when no one is watching.

One night, when Rusty is wheeled into the ER burned on half his body by hateful classmates, his agony calls out to Drew like a beacon, pulling them both together through all their pain and grief. In Rusty, Drew sees hope, happiness, and a future for both of them. A future outside the hospital, and away from their pasts.

Drew knows that life is never that simple. Death roams the hospital, searching for Drew, and now Rusty. Drew lost his family, but he refuses to lose Rusty too. He’s determined to make things right, and to bargain, in whatever way he can, for Rusty’s survival.

But Death is not easily placated, and Drew’s life will have to get worse before there is any chance for things to get better. He’ll have to confront what really happened the night his family died, and tell the truth about who he really is—even if that truth may destroy any chance of a future.

I mean, have you ever heard anything more awesome?

Anyway, other than the model, which is obviously the main feature, I really love not only the font itself, but the way it kind of halos Andrew's face, and especially, I just love, love, love the way "A Novel" peeks over his shoulder like a thought bubble.

This novel is ... I don't want to say "partly a graphic novel," because that's not exactly accurate, and I don't know how the publisher is handling that part, but I'm hoping maybe Shaun will stop by this morning, if he's allowed to tell us anything more.

FML, by Shaun David Hutchinson, a review at YA Confidential

The post title says it all. Please just head over to YA Confidential, for the review, and a giveaway!

Cracked, by K.M. Walton

Continuing in my series of giant covers, today we have Cracked, by K.M. Walton.

I finished this book the other day, and just wanted to briefly recommend it to all of you. Before I go into my reaction, here is the copy from Amazon:

In this gripping debut, a teen takes a bottle of pills and lands in the psych ward with the bully who drove him to attempt suicide.

Victor hates his life. He’s relentlessly bullied at school and his parents constantly ridicule him at home.

Bull is angry. He’s sick of his grandfather’s drunken beatings. And he likes to take out his rage on Victor.

Determined to end it all, Victor takes a bottle of his mother’s sleeping pills—only to be disappointed when he wakes up in the psych ward. And his roommate? None other than Bull, whose loaded-gun effort at self-defense has been labeled as a suicide attempt. Things go from bad to worse—until the boys discover they might just have something in common: a reason to live.

I loved this book. It was a very short, snappy read, but what it "lacked" in length, it made up for in depth. These characters are so alive with humanity, and so authentic in their portrayal of life as a male teenager, I can't believe the author is a woman (full disclosure: Kate is an internet friend of mine, but still).

They both start out a bit unlikeable. Not in the sense that you can't sympathize with them as a reader, but in the sense that these are real people, who are not perfect, and therefore might be annoying in real life. Bull is a bully, and an asshole, and Victor is weak, uncomfortable in his own skin, and afraid of his own shadow. This works perfectly though, because you can still completely sympathize with both their situations, and fully understand why they are the way they are. I don't want to go into too much detail and give away the plot, but suffice it to say, both boys have plenty of reason to be the way they are.

When the boys end up in the hospital, and are forced to face the hard truths about why they are the way they are, the story grows so honest that it moved me to tears several times. Having spent many years as a scared, lonely, angry, confused young man, I really felt for both these boys, and could relate to both their coping mechanisms.

I won't go on forever, but my favorite thing about this book was that it did not have an easy, happy ending. Yes, things get better for Bull and Victor by the end, but they're not perfect, and they go on about their lives much the way I expect real people would in this situation.

I recommend this book to anyone who has ever been in pain, and is willing to admit they might not always be proud of how they handled it. So, essentially ... everyone.