conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What is a description for a book titled All You Never Wanted about Thea, Alex, Library with the genre: Teen & Young Adult, Literature & Fiction?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Gr 9 Up-Things were not great when their parents divorced, but at least Alex and Thea had each other. Then their mother met Arthur, and now they are even losing the strong sisterly bond they once shared. Sudden, extreme wealth has changed everything, including their self-perceptions. Beautiful, socially at ease, and effortlessly popular Alex is now starving herself and has developed a stifling phobia of going out in public. Meanwhile, Thea, once a determined academic, is doggedly pursuing the social status formerly enjoyed by her older sister. She is transforming her gift for creative writing into orally spun lies about her family and classmates to win the attention of her sister's friends and boyfriend. Both girls are aware of how their lives are spinning out of control, but they are too absorbed in their own problems to help each other. With their mother and stepdad away for the weekend, Thea plans the party of the year, hoping to finally capture her place in the spotlight, but the event ultimately winds up pitting the sisters against each other. Telling the story through their alternating voices, the author drives her plot through the intricate development of her two main characters. While the negative side of wealth is a primary theme, it is by no means the only issue. Loss of bodily control, anorexia, social phobia, sibling rivalry, and compulsive lying are all explored as each girl's story unfolds. An excellent choice for teen girls' discussion groups.-Cary Frostick, Mary Riley Styles Public Library, Falls Church, VA(c) Copyright 2011. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What is the first five paragraphs for this book?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: All You Never Wanted
  Starting with. Move that supposedly priceless crystal vase into the kitchen. Check. Key-code-lock the door to the Ivory Room so nobody would decide to use it as the make-out room. Check. Unhook the Ming Dynasty sword hanging over the marble hall console and. Um. Stash it in the coat closet. Oof, heavy. But a good call. Plus I'd avoided the disaster of some wasted mofo swinging it around, looking to swordfight all takers on a twenty-dollar dare.
  As for the pale gold carpet runners? Not a heck of a lot I could do. Cross my fingers and pray. And while I was on my knees, I should also ask God to pleeeeze not let anyone sneak down into the wine cellar and get intimate with Arthur's Cabernets and Merlots.
  Mrs. Checkers lived in one of the older Round Hill Manor homes, tastefully structured to fit the landscape. On the topic of puke green, I bet she'd wanted to throw up a bit when she saw Camelot go up. Camelot was definitely one of those houses that snooty Greenwich people saw and mouthed "There goes the neighborhood" over their gin and tonics.
  Suddenly Mrs. Checkers looked up across the lawn to where I was watching her. In the next heartbeat of time, her body seemed to seize up on her. Her eyes rolling back to monster whites, her hands smashing flat over her ship's-prow chest. It was as if the whole thing was happening in slow motion. I watched unblinking as she rolled over and slumped boneless to the ground.
  Mute. Still. A mound of disco fabrics. Almost poetic. Like the final moment of some experimental dance recital, when you're not sure if it's really the end or if something has gone wrong.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What is five more paragraphs?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: For a moment, they're back. Alex-and-Joshua. He's smiling down at her. Reminding her of when he'd been "Shady Sheriff." Unknown and mysterious and desirable.
  Later, she'd think to herself that she'd had a sixth sense about it. She'd been so frozen on that couch. As if waiting for it. Because she knows exactly what's happened when Joshua returns. Her phone cement-stuck in his hand and his face numb.
  Holding the phone over her reach, Joshua clicks for it. Scans the note and tosses the phone in her lap. Quickly she picks it up and reads:
  Her heartbeat floods her ears. The living room has become oppressive, a trap. " 'Miss you so bad,' " Joshua repeats. " 'Miss you so bad,' Alex. Want to let me in on it? What's Xander been missing? What've you been giving him that he's missing it 'so bad'?"
  It wrenches her how she can see boy-Joshua screwed up in his face. She'd never noticed it before, but in this moment he looks identical to his brother. Poor hungry little Buddy, forever creeping around the bowling alley, on the hustle for scraps of whatever—food, money, jokes, love. All those Gunners were raised on less of everything.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Delete the last sentence.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: For a moment, they're back. Alex-and-Joshua. He's smiling down at her. Reminding her of when he'd been "Shady Sheriff." Unknown and mysterious and desirable.
  Later, she'd think to herself that she'd had a sixth sense about it. She'd been so frozen on that couch. As if waiting for it. Because she knows exactly what's happened when Joshua returns. Her phone cement-stuck in his hand and his face numb.
  Holding the phone over her reach, Joshua clicks for it. Scans the note and tosses the phone in her lap. Quickly she picks it up and reads:
  Her heartbeat floods her ears. The living room has become oppressive, a trap. " 'Miss you so bad,' " Joshua repeats. " 'Miss you so bad,' Alex. Want to let me in on it? What's Xander been missing? What've you been giving him that he's missing it 'so bad'?"
  It wrenches her how she can see boy-Joshua screwed up in his face. She'd never noticed it before, but in this moment he looks identical to his brother. Poor hungry little Buddy, forever creeping around the bowling alley, on the hustle for scraps of whatever—food, money, jokes, love.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What is the last five paragraphs? Start with the sentence 'I breathe in my love of Alex's room'.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: I breathe in my love of Alex's room. She picks up her things. Her sheets aren't wadded and scratchy. In the orderly darkness, I tell her my problems and she makes them right because she is old.
  Alex falls asleep facing me. Her hand is warm on my hip. It will stay like we're joined there till I move it. I won't move it.
  This time, my sister's breath on my cheek reminds me that she's here, she's here, she's here... and I close my eyes without fear, knowing she's all I'll ever need.
  I'm also very lucky to get to be part of the incredible positive energy of Sarah Mlynowski and her writers' lounge. To land there—with my laptop and a couple of dollars for the lunch pool—is also to find a haven, a generous source of shared ideas and strong opinions on everything from jacket images to pizza toppings. While so much of writing is a solitary process, a writing community, at its best, makes this profession not just worthwhile, but exuberant.
  Adele lives with her husband and young daughter in Brooklyn, New York. Please visit her on the Web at adelegriffin.com.