Saturday, 19 September 2015

Review: Faceless by Alyssa B. Sheinmel

This emotionally gripping novel about a girl who gets a face transplant is Wonder for a YA audience.

When Maisie gets into a terrible accident, her face is partially destroyed. She's lucky enough to get a face transplant--but how do you live your life when you can't even recognize yourself anymore?

She was a runner, a girlfriend, a good student...a normal girl. Now all that has changed. As Maisie discovers how much her looks did--and didn't--shape her relationship to the world, she has to redefine her own identity, and figure out what "lucky" really means.

From Alyssa Sheinmel, the acclaimed author of Second Star, this is a lyrical and gripping novel that will challenge readers to think about how we create and define ourselves.

Hardcover, 288 pages
Expected publication: September 29th 2015 by Scholastic Press
Terri's Thoughts

** I received an advanced copy of this book from the publisher Scholastic Press via Edelweiss in exchange for an honest review.  The expected publication date is September 29th, 2015**

What a compelling read about someone who is forced to learn who they are when everything they recognize about themselves is taken away.

This was not always the easiest of reads.  Sometimes I wanted to slap Maisie and tell her to smarten up.  Then I tried to put myself in her shoes and I think I can understand what she was going through.  I think that I would actually be worse and more negative than she was.

I feel like there was a good moral in these pages.  It is important to understand who you are when the face that you present to the world is no longer there to hide behind.  In the case of this story the face was literally no longer there however you catch what I am trying to say.

Not always the most optimistic or cheery reads it really did have an uplifting message.  I would recommend this story

About the Author

(From Goodreads profile)

I was born in Stanford, California, and even though I moved across the country to New York when I was six years old, I still think of myself as a California girl.

Like so many writers, I grew up loving books. I loved stories so much that when there was nothing to read, I wrote my own stories just to give myself something to read. And when there was no pen and paper to be had, I made up stories and acted them out by myself. I played all the parts, and I was never bored.

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