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Will Sally Larson have to change to stay in Sweet Valley?
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No matter what, she couldn't do anything to jeopardize this new life. If she had to leave Sweet Valley now, she thought she would just die. So I've been sitting on this book for ages now, and I can't really say why. Confusion over the introduction of a real tragic figure (Dana Larson's cousin, who's spent her whole life as a foster child)? Stunned disbelief at this whole Diablo Cody thing (still waiting to hear from you, Ms. Cody!)? I don't know. But here it is at last: Book 33, Starting Over. Dana is also feeling a bit apprehensive. She's not sure how to act around Sally, and she really doesn't want to tell her peers about Sally's sad past. After she and Sally meet, they hit it off, but this doesn't stop Dana's concern. She wants to spruce up Sally's plain-Jane wardrobe. She even advises Sally to lie about her age so that no one wonders why she's repeating 11th grade (she's behind because she's been bumped around from school to school so often). Dana and Sally become fast friends, but Sally is really greasing the wheels by never saying no to Dana, be it over clothing advice, a new hairstyle, or what to do with her free time. Anybody feel a trainwreck coming on? Dana's brother Jeremy, on the other hand is impossibly rude to and resentful of Sally (nobody asked him if he wanted a new sister! Harumph!). One particularly sad turn of events is when Sally dismisses the affections of Jeremy’s friend Mark Riley, not because she doesn’t like him, but because she doesn’t think Jeremy would like their dating. Worst of all, this go-with-the-flow-at-all-costs attitude isn’t really working. Dana and Jeremy are both feeling upstaged by Sally’s polite helpfulness, not realizing that she’s just trying to hold on to her new family by being a good foster daughter. Naturally, I waited for Elizabeth Wakefield to save the day. Surely the fact that Sally dreams of writing for the school paper would give Liz the chance to intervene! It does, but this volume changes things up a little by having Liz butt in only slightly, with a sensible suggestion that Sally should do what she wants to do with her time, and that Dana would likely understand that choice. In fact, it's Sally herself who solves her family drama — but not without the aid of some local criminals. Yeah. The criminals, predictably, are not immediately helpful. Right when Sally is sure the Larson family is kicking her to the curb (the girl is NOT super familiar with the whole “family” thing), she, Jeremy, and Dana pick up some shady hitchhikers. To be clear, Jeremy voluntarily ignores Sally’s warning that these guys look like trouble, and then the guys demand to be driven to Kelly’s, where all of Sweet Valley’s street thugs hang out. When they arrive there, shit gets real: “…there’s a couple of things I need from you first,” Jim said, breathing heavily down Jeremy’s neck. “Like your wallet.” Jeremy whipped around in his seat. “What the –” “Or my friend here will think of something to take from your sister here,” Jim continued, a sinister note creeping into his voice.” Whoa! That’s right. He said “here” twice in one sentence! Oh, and he’s threatening to take advantage of Dana. But Sally, resigned to her imagined fate of familylessness, pulls a mega stunt. She pretends to be into the idea of boozing it up at Kelly’s with two crazy ne’er-do-wells. She calls Dana a “dead bore,” and says that she knows “how to have a good time – even if no one else around here does.” Yeah! It’s like that now! Jeremy and Dana drive off. Then Dana figures out what just happened. Feeling terribly guilty, they rush to get the manly Mark Riley and all three head back to Kelly’s. In a dramatic standoff, Dana refers to Sally as “my sister.” Everyone heads back to the Larson home, and to the surprise of all three Larson children, mom and dad have decided to formally adopt Sally. Oh, happy day! She will be Dana’s sister after all! This whole drama is handled with at least as much seriousness and grace as Elizabeth’s kidnapping. Or Regina’s kidnapping. And the book showed some promise in the way it kept Elizabeth out of the debacle – after all, we wouldn’t want our nearly-racy, sensationalist, teen soap-opera series turning into a little-miss-fix-it series, would we? Would we? I wouldn’t. I’m counting on more drama, and I’m hoping for more problems that Elizabeth can’t solve |
Can Elizabeth help Lynne overcome her shyness?
Remember Linda Ronstadt she told herself. Remember Guy's face when he talked about singers he liked. Lynne couldn't believe he would ever like her.
- p. 106
I hadn't picked up a Sweet Valley novel in months.
Perhaps I was left vulnerable, my hardened layer of jade softened by a long break from the pithy tales. Something must have happened to change me, for I was unable to resist the charms of Alone In the Crowd; somehow, it moved me.
Is it possible that this book was actually good?
I know, I know. You're thinking that this is NOT the blog you meant to surf to. What happened to angry Marissa, fed-up forever with these Orange County antics (Sweet Valley must be in Orange County, right?). Well calm down. I'm not ready to start handing out Newbery Medals or anything. If Book 28 hadn't contained at least a handful of moments that made me want to kick the main character square in the face, I think I might have had to pack up my blog and call it quits. Overall, though, it might just have been my favorite book yet, and not in the so-horrifyingly-ridiculous-you've-got-to-love-it way (that prize still goes to Wrong Kind of Girl.)
Let's get you caught up.
Lynne Henry is the kind of girl who’s basically invisible. She literally has no friends, and she spends all day aching for the moment she can return to her room and play her guitar. In addition to being seriously shy, Lynne bears the awful, unforgivable disfigurement of being tall and thin. Yikes! She sees herself as some sort of ugly androgyne who is too much of a loser to be spoken to. But the more time we spend with Lynne–and this book actually devotes more pages to her than to the Wakefield girls–the more we realize that she’s really a pretty interesting person. What’s more, Guy Chesney (guitarist and leader of the Droids, Sweet Valley High’s rock band) seems to be catching on to that fact. Lynne has a huge crush on Guy, but can’t seriously entertain the fact that he’d actually be romantically interested in her, given her terrible disfigurement, which, allow me to remind you, is tall skinniness. And frizzy hair. Also a penchant for sweatshirts. Do I smell a makeover coming on?
Lynne’s mother, who owns a salon and is extremely beautiful and fashionable, constantly offers to help Lynne spruce herself up, but Lynne just resents it, seeing this as a sign of her mother’s disappointment. In fact, Mrs. Henry is just worried that Lynne’s poor self-esteem will keep her from ever being happy. But YOU try telling Lynne that!
Lynne Henry’s opportunity for change comes in the form of a songwriting competition. The Droids are looking for a new hit–everyone agrees that this is all they need to Make It Big!–so they hold a contest at SVHS to discover some new talent. Lynne, a naturally gifted songwriter, singer, and guitarist, writes and records an amazing song called "Outside, Looking In." In addition to being the song with the most Totally ‘80s Title, it is the hands-down winner of the competition. There is, however, a catch: Lynne submitted it anonymously, not wanting her innermost thoughts and musical stylings to be revealed as her own.
Sounds pretty good, right? It must be time, then, for the novel to start heading south. ‘Round about this point, we begin to gradually stop feeling sorry for Ms. Henry and wish that she would just suck it up and grow a pair. Once she wins the competition, it should be safe to accept the spoils of acceptance that are her reward. But, no. Why would she do that, when she can remain safely anonymous forever and fade into nothingness? In fairness, there are a few additional complications: (a) The winner is supposed to sing his or her song onstage with the Droids, which terrifies Lynne, and (b) revealing herself would likely mean revealing her undying love for Guy Chesney. The song’s lyrics mention an unrequited love, and Guy’s pretty much the only person Lynne talks to on a regular basis. Her crush would become pretty darn obvious.
Now, no one is more sympathetic about anxiety over revealing a crush on than I am. But Lynne actually knows for a fact that Guy is falling in love with the rich, wise voice he’s been hearing on the winning recording, and with the girl who possesses it. Now, self-doubt and insecurity make her feel like he’ll be crestfallen when he finds out that his “love” is for a (tall, skinny) ugmo like her.
Sweet Jesus, when is Elizabeth going to come around and fix this!? Somebody better call her up before I lose my marbles. Lo and behold, Liz waltzes into Sweet Valley's music center to pick up a record (!) while Lynne is giving a guitar lesson. Overhearing her voice, Elizabeth recognizes it as the one from the tape, and discovers the secret, just like Nancy Drew might in The Case of the Freaking Baby Who Doesn’t Realize She Has the Body of a Model. Liz reluctantly promises not to tell Lynne’s secret, but picks up an all important (and hilarious) detail.
“I’m sure he thinks the girl who sings ‘Outside, Looking In’ looks just like Linda Ronstadt–or better. I can’t disappoint him.”
-Lynne, p. 101
All this time, poor Guy Chesney has been pining away for this mystery girl and her gorgeous voice. But, unbeknownst to him, he had actually forged a connection with her before the contest even started. He began walking to and from school with Lynne at the beginning of the book, and they talked about many things, among them favorite musicians. High on the list was Linda Ronstadt, and Lynne just could not get over the idea that she was less attractive than that particular singer. She mentions this to Elizabeth, who innocently passes it on to Guy. Guy puts the pieces together and has someone draw an artist's rendering of Lynne, spreading a flyer with the picture and an announcement that she’s the winner all over school.
But where’s my makeover? Well, Lynne finally caves just before the flyer is released, letting her poor mother fix her up. And gosh, is she ever great-looking after that makeover. Considering how easy it is for people in Sweet Valley to overcome terrible physical and social problems like obesity and poverty, the whole makeup/hairdo/new outfit transformation feels a little weak, maybe a bit too easy. And Sweet Valley hardly needed another beautiful person or another power-couple. But if it’s going to gain two more things it didn’t need, at least these two come with some thoughts in their heads and some God-given talent. This holiday season, I think that’s something we can all be thankful for. Also, this:
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Will Emily lose everything she loves?
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"At first I thought I did have an attitude problem…but now I realize that it isn't me that has a problem. It's my stepmother, Karen." - Emily Mayer, p. 7 WTF! The last few words of Sweet Valley High #25, Nowhere to Run, which have something to do with Regina Morrow being held prisoner by a fake aunt, have left me so confused that I’m not sure what even happened in this book. Let’s see…somebody was being mistreated by her family…somebody was confided in…there was a blossoming romance that almost didn’t bloom…ahh yes, it’s spring in Sweet Valley. Or so I imagine. Now let’s fill in some blanks. The main character here (after the twins, of course) is Emily Mayer, whom you may or may not remember as the drummer for the Droids, “the Sweet Valley High rock group,” as it’s described on page 5. She’s got a whole slew of pretty serious family problems, not the least of which is the absence of her real mother from her life. Everyone thinks Emily’s mom died years ago, but the secret truth is far, far worse. Emily’s mom is the worst possible type of villain in the world of Sweet Valley: a tramp! She abandoned her daughter years ago, which is too bad, because there’s no way she’s crazier than Emily’s dad and stepmom. Apparently, life changes are totally unbearable for this pair. After getting married and having a new baby, they’ve suddenly decided that Emily has turned rotten. They won’t be swayed by little old facts, either, like the fact that Emily is actually a very nice and conscientious girl, with hobbies, talents, friends, and lots of time to babysit. I don’t need to say much for you to get the gist of Emily’s dilemma. Basically, nothing she does is good enough for her stepmother, Karen. If she babysits four nights a weeks, she should have done it five nights. If she gets a phone call, why does the phone have to ring so loud? But by far the biggest issue is her drums, which she can hardly touch without getting bitched at. And, alas, Emily’s once-reasonable father refuses to entertain the idea that Karen might be overreacting, instead choosing to believe that Emily’s being uncooperative. Elizabeth finds out about this issue when Emily shows up at the Oracle looking to become a writer. She knows something must be wrong, because Emily is “a musician, not a writer,” as the book makes crystal clear. And she’s right, of course. Emily is actually trying to do whatever her stepmother wants, because otherwise she might get sent to boarding school. Seriously, these people are crazy! One major thing driving Emily to stay in Sweet Valley instead of escaping to the independent bliss of boarding school is Dan, the Droids’ guitarist, whom she has a major crush on. Karen really doesn’t like this guy, and when she catches the two of them alone in the Mayers’ basement, it doesn’t matter to her in the slightest that there was nothing indecent going on. Karen essentially calls Emily a slut “just like her mother.” And when Emily explains what happened to her her father, he accuses her of lying. Yikes. As usual, Elizabeth Wakefield becomes the confidant and de facto problem-solver in this book. For all her practice at this role, you think she’d be better at it. When Emily attempts to run away to the Wakefields’ house, Elizabeth complains to her family that she just doesn’t know what to do. It seems pretty obvious to me that someone just needs to send these people to family therapy, but things have a way of playing out a little differently in Sweet Valley. Speaking of resolutions, the climax of this book has got to be one of my favorites, right up there with the kidnapping/knife fight debacle from Showdown. Emily gives Karen some unsolicited advice about not giving her baby a toy with loosely-attached buttons for eyes, which Karen promptly ignores. Then, lo and behold, the baby (whose name is Karrie) pulls off a button eye, puts it in her mouth, and proceeds to choke on it. Karen freaks out, but Emily knows just what to do. In order to get a crazed Karen to calm down enough to hand the baby over, Emily smacks her stepmother right in the face. Bam! Just after Emily saves her baby sister’s life, Mr. Mayer storms in. Seeing that all hell has broken loose, he immediately accuses Emily of some unnamed act of evil. and tells her to “Get out!” Shocked beyond comprehension, Emily quickly obliges. This scene acts as both the final straw for Emily, who afterwards decides to try and find her mom in Chicago, and the wake-up call for Karen, who is suddenly able to see Emily for what she is: a member of the family. Emily returns to the Wakefield house, where Liz frustratingly debates whether or not to “tattle” on Emily by calling the Mayers to tell them where their daughter is. Eventually she does, and we finally get to breathe a sigh of relief as the Mayers come to their senses. If this book seems a little tense for your tastes, rest assured that there is some major accidental comedy to lighten the mood. Near the end of the book, Bruce Patman is seen with an astonishing piece of technology: a cordless phone. Not a cell phone, a cordless phone. “My father’s latest toy” he calls it, “designed for people too lazy to budge. You can keep the phone next to you wherever you go.” Were I next to Bruce at that moment, I might have pointed out that he meant “wherever you go in your own home.” I also would have added “LOL,” but only to confuse him with my future-speak. Even more fun for me was another scene dating this book, in which Jessica has this hilarious interchange with her grandmother: GRANDMA: All these college kids come in with their knapsacks and those little tape players they listen to – you know, with those little headphones. JESSICA: Walkmen! This sounds exactly like a conversation I’d have with my grandmother about an iPod! The more things change, the more they stay the same, I guess. If only that didn’t also apply to teenagers, stepmothers, and dysfunctional family life. |
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“Elizabeth’s nightmare is about to begin...”
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When I try to decide what, if anything, there is to say about whatever absurd volume I’ve just finished reading, it’s always nice when I can come up with some singular thing about it that’s jumped out at me. Frequently it’s impossible. There are just so many tiny little details and quotes I’ve earmarked for their hilarity, so many tidbits that I’m desperate to tell you about, that the prospect of finding some unifying flag they can all fly under seems utterly hopeless. Pleasantly enough, Kidnapped! is an exception to this dilemma. Even as I write this, it occurs to me that it will be somewhat difficult to describe exactly what it is that stood out about Book 13. But I’ll give it a try: imagine a bell curve. High in the center, tapering off to nothing on either side. Have you got it? Okay, this graph represents my level of involvement with, and also sympathy for, Elizabeth and her ordeal, where x = time and y = me giving a shit. When it was time for me to start reading this book, I put it off for as long as possible. Knowing how frustrating even the most tamely-titled SVH book can be, I was dreading subjecting myself to the ridiculous events I knew were in store in a book called "Kidnapped!". I knew what had happened: at the end of Book 12, a strange orderly at the hospital, Carl, had snatched Liz on her way to the car and thrown her in the trunk of his van – a windowless child-molester van no doubt. It was quite a cliffhanger, but as it came out of almost nowhere, I didn't really want to subject you to it in my last installment. Sorry? But while a cliffhanger usually leaves us begging for more, this one just left me thinking, "Jesus, I don't want to deal with that." So I didn't. I put it off for a week and a half before cautiously beginning the novel. Much to my delight, there was no mention of Elizabeth's kidnapping in Chapter 1. Or Chapter 2. As the book opens, we find Jessica preparing for a party at the estate of some Sweet Valley newcomers, desperately awaiting her sister's return from a day filling in at the hospital and tutoring Droids frontman Max Dellon so he won't fail English (thus destroying the band). Quite a day for Liz, really, so Jess isn't concerned when her sister doesn't come home early – that is, she isn't too concerned about Liz. She's plenty concerned for herself, as she's desperate to be the first to get her claws into Sweet Valley's newest rich, sexy bachelor, Nicholas Morrow. Nicholas is 18, and it's his 16-year-old sister Regina who's throwing the meet-and-greet at the largest home in town, previously unoccupied. But I digress. Jessica can't wait a moment longer for her sister to return, so she leaves for the party with Cara. What she doesn't know is that she could have spent all night waiting. Liz isn't going anywhere soon. Thus the ascent begins – up the curve, I mean. Now that I'm a little caught up in the story, my defenses are down, and I begin to worry about Liz myself. Where could she be? I'll tell you where. In a trunk. Chloroformed and tied up. This is bad! Really bad! The next thing she knows, she's tied to a chair in a strange and disheveled house, and she realizes for the first time that it's this creepy Carl guy who's kidnapped her. But she doesn't know why. Is he going to kill her? When Carl finally reveals himself (only his identity, thank God), Elizabeth finds out that he’s kidnapped her so that he can be near her. That's it. Creeeepy! He loves her, and this was the only way he could think of to be with her. (Elizabeth's inner monologue: Did you ever toy with the idea of SPEAKING to me? Just a thought.) He says that she's like "a beautiful bird...So beautiful and yet so willful". Shudder. The situation worsens when Liz asks to go to the bathroom and uses the momentary freedom as a chance to bolt. When Carl catches her, he is more afraid than ever that she doesn't really WANT to be there (surprise!) so she ends up tied to that chair one more time. Back in Sweet Valley, the whole town has lost it. especially the police: they think Liz ran away. As if! Worst of all, a lot of people think that Max Dellon, the rebellious boy that Elizabeth was supposed to be tutoring the night she was kidnapped, has something to do with her disappearance. This is mostly because he was found snooping through Liz's car that night (he was looking for clues to her whereabouts after she didn't show up to tutor him). I can understand their misguided suspicions, though. I mean, who can trust a guy who's failing English? And a musician, no less. He might as well write “guilty”on his forehead! As I'm hoping you can imagine, now that I'm effectively immersed in the story, my concern for Elizabeth is pretty high. I mean, this dude that kidnapped her is seriously insane. He buys her creepy presents like random gift shop novels and he feeds her dry frozen pancakes. He’s stupid, but not stupid enough to stop going to work - he doesn't want to arouse suspicion. Unfortunately, Liz never told anyone about her weird encounters with Carl in the hospital, where he seemed to stare at her constantly but from a distance, and never spoke to her. And now, he's planning on cashing in some vacation time so he can take Elizabeth away to a shack in the mountains...and never return!! It will be so perfect Elizabeth! I'll love you forever and you will never get away!!! Yikes. A scary prospect indeed. Alas, this, my friends, is where we hit the top of our little bell curve. Because while Carl is at his "last day" of work, Elizabeth sits, arms and legs bound, on her couch-bed, and tries, TRIES to regain a bit of sanity by remembering the good times...beach strolls with Todd, sleepovers with Enid, pillow fights with Jessica...it seems like only yesterday that she saw them all! Well, dear readers, it freaking WAS yesterday! She's been kidnapped for 2 DAYS! A horrible experience, to be sure, but give me a break! If you're struggling to remember your twin sister after 2 days away from her, a little Stockholm Syndrome is the least of your troubles. Jesus! The downward slope is quick and sharp. I have no doubt about where y finally returns to zero, and I return to the level of disdain for the whole affair that I began with. It's in the final chapter, when Elizabeth and Jessica throw a party to celebrate her return. (Yes, yes, she's alive. Big whoop. Carl saw Jessica at the hospital and, thinking she was Liz, inadvertently confessed it all.) At this party, Enid's boyfriend arrives and greets Liz "for the first time since the kidnapping." For the first time, that means, in two measly days. And he says to her, no kidding "It's good to have you back." As if she's freaking Liz Smart, returning to the real world after years of painful searching and heartache! Usually, once a book gets ahold of you, you care about the story right through the final page. But when this one was over, I was also SO OVER the whole thing that I barely noticed the bombshell on the final page. Remember Nicholas Morrow, the rich sensitive hunk that Jessica had her eyes on before ever meeting him? Well, when he arrives at the party, he takes one look at Elizabeth and can see no one else. And Liz knows it. I smell trouble...hopefully Book 14's plot curve will be a little more x=y, if you know what I mean. And if you don't, don't fret. I'll fill you in next time.
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