#59: Me, Earl, and the Dying Girl by Jesse Andrews. YA fiction about a white boy dealing with the friendship and death of a girl he doesn’t really know that well, and who, therefore, the audience doesn’t either. It’s really all about Greg, the white male hero, and is therefore pretty boring. The best parts are the interactions with his best friend, Earl. Who is, predictably, a black kid from the ghetto. Would be nice to have a black kid whose family aren’t all lawless fuckups. I’m just saying, that would be an option.
#60: We Were Liars by E. Lockhart. Another YA novel, this time about a rich white girl dealing with the fallout of an accident. It’s suspenseful without being grotesque.