Gr 9 Up—That Micah Wilkins is a self-professed liar is about the only thing you can be sure of in this gripping, engrossing novel (Bloomsbury, 2009) by Justine Larbalestier that begs for discussion. Micah's life is irrevocably changed when the boy she had a secret relationship with is found brutally murdered and she is considered a suspect. The narrative shifts between "Before" and "After" the murder with occasional breaks for "Family History" and "History of Me," detailing, among other things, the family illness that she claims is at the heart of all her lies. Micah takes the unreliable narrator to new heights, keeping listeners off balance by sometimes sticking to the "truth" for long stretches before coming clean and, at others times, admitting to lies only moments after telling them. Channie Waites delivers a very strong and believable performance as the complex and often frustrating teen protagonist, shifting moods as seamlessly as Micah does and revealing all of her attitude, emotion, and vulnerability. By the end of this extraordinary book, listeners will either be desperate to discuss it with others or ready to delve right back in to listen again in an effort to figure out the truth—and most will probably want to do both.—Amanda Raklovits, Champaign Public Library, Douglass Branch, IL
Micah declares herself a liar and calls her own reliability as a narrator into question on the first page of this dark, gripping page-turner. When Zach, the boy with whom she might or might not be romantically involved, goes missing, Micah tries to tell the story of her tortured relationships with Zach and her classmates, teachers and family. Is Micah a killer? Quite possibly yes, but she weaves lies and truths together so artfully that even as she admits her deceptions, she becomes an increasingly compelling and sympathetic character. Micah's fractured first-person narrative skips around chronologically, further deepening the confusion about what has really happened in her life. The constant reversals keep readers guessing, a plot device that threatens to wear thin by the halfway point of the novel, but Larbalestier moves the plot nimbly past this moment, creating such an engrossing story of teenage life on the margins that even readers familiar with her Magic or Madness trilogy might not see the supernatural twist (or not) coming. In the end, it calls to mind I Am the Cheese with its hermetic wiliness. (Fiction. 14 & up)
Readers will get chills paging through Larbalestier’s suspenseful novel about a compulsive liar who becomes a suspect in her boyfriend’s murder. Micah admits it is hard to believe a girl who has pretended “she’s a boy, a hermaphrodite, or that her daddy’s an arms dealer,” but when Zach, the popular boy who was secretly seeing her “after hours,” is found dead, Micah claims innocence, promising to tell readers her story with “No lies, no omissions.” But the supernatural tale she tells may be her wildest yet. Micah composes her story in short sections labeled “Before” and “After” (the murder), as well as “History of Me,” “Family History” and other categories. This is a well-paced novel with a masterfully constructed unreliable narrator, confessing to lies she has told readers along the way (“You buy everything, don’t you? You make it too easy”) and explaining how she makes lies believable. Could Micah really be innocent, or is she a confused girl who killed out of jealousy? Is she even human? Readers will be guessing and theorizing long after they’ve finished this gripping story.” —Publishers Weekly, starred review
“Micah declares herself a liar and calls her own reliability as a narrator into question on the first page of this dark, gripping page-turner. When Zach, the boy with whom she might or might not be romantically involved, goes missing, Micah tries to tell the story of her tortured relationships with Zach and her classmates, teachers and family. Is Micah a killer? Quite possibly yes, but she weaves lies and truths together so artfully that even as she admits her deceptions, she becomes an increasingly compelling and sympathetic character. Micah’s fractured first-person narrative skips around chronologically, further deepening the confusion about what has really happened in her life. The constant reversals keep readers guessing, a plot device that threatens to wear thin by the halfway point of the novel, but Larbalestier moves the plot nimbly past this moment, creating such an engrossing story of teenage life on the margins that even readers familiar with her Magic or Madness trilogy might not see the supernatural twist (or not) coming. In the end, it calls to mind I Am the Cheese with its hermetic wiliness.” —Kirkus Reviews, starred review
“* Biracial Micah Wilkins, 17, is the quintessential unreliable narrator. On the first page, she readily admits she's a liar though now she wants to tell her story straight. She attends a progressive private high school in New York City. She's a bit peculiar, with extra-human speed and sense of smell, and has few friends. After another student, a popular senior named Zach, is found brutally murdered, it comes to light that he and Micah had a relationship outside of school. Now she is considered a suspect. Her suspenseful, supernatural tale is engrossing and readers will be tempted to fly through it, though the wise will be wary of her spin and read carefully for subtle slipups and foreshadowing. The chilling story that she spins will have readers' hearts racing as in three sections she goes from "Telling the Truth," to "Telling the True Truth," to "Telling the Actual Real Truth," uncovering previous lies and revealing bizarre occurrences in the process. Micah's narrative is convincing, and in the end readers will delve into the psyche of a troubled teen and decide for themselves the truths and lies. This one is sure to generate discussion.” —School Library Journal, starred review
What if the boy who cried wolf wasn't just a liar? What if HE was a wolf? In Larbalestier's striking time-tripping novel, 17-year-old Micah is the ultimate in unreliable narrators. Her boyfriend has been killed. The book hangs on that whodunit, and on a supernatural tale of a werewolf (or maybe not), all delivered from Micah's point of view. But Micah is a liar, as she repeatedly reminds us. Channie Waites makes us long to believe Micah as she speaks in a warm, anchoring voice that belies the character herself. Waites pulls us in—only to startle us at the end with a tone that turns the story on its head. Her inviting delivery makes it impossible to distinguish psychopathic murder from the way of the wolf. It's clearly easier to be a canis lupus in Central Park than a troubled teen in Manhattan. Wolves, at least, don't lie. M.M.C. © AudioFile 2010, Portland, Maine
