conversations.from: human
conversations.value: a description for a book titled Baygirl about Kit, Kit's, John's with the genre: Teen & Young Adult, Literature & Fiction
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Gr 8 UpTeen Kit Ryan learns about love and loss in this luminous young adult novel set in 1990s Newfoundland. The Canadian government has begun shutting down the cod fishing industry in order to decrease overfishing and save the country's natural resources. This decree throws a hurdle into Kit's world and her already strained relationship with her parents. The girl's alcoholic father is a cod fisherman newly out of work, and her mother struggles to make ends meet while enabling her husband's violent outbursts, leaving no room for mother-daughter bonding. The family uproots from Parsons Bay, a small fishing village, to St. John's, a city, leaving Kit's Nan and best friend behind. They move in with Uncle Iggy, a lonely, depressed, but recovering alcoholic who is still mourning the loss of his wife. Kit does not make friends easily at her new school, branded an outsider for her "baygirl" accent and unfashionable clothes. A friendship with an eccentric neighbor, Mr. Adams, and writing in her journal help her adjust to life in St. John's. When she finally begins to find her place in the new locale and even entrusts her heart to a popular boy, she is called back to her hometown to help her ailing Nan and forlorn father. Teens will connect with the author's well-crafted characters, including the fully-formed protagonist. The tragic ending will resonate with readers, and they will root for Kit as she emerges from the other side.Lisa Gieskes, Richland County Public Library, Columbia, SC
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: the first four paragraphs for this book
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Baygirl
  As soon as I opened the door, I could smell it. I looked at my watch. It was only three twenty in the afternoon. But time of day never made any difference to him. He had a whiskey with his bacon and eggs once. He drank it out of a coffee mug, as if that made it okay.
  I threw a teabag in a mug and snorted. "I thought, Catch the marlin, old man, and put me out of my misery."
  My father's jaw hardened. "You think it's that easy, do you? Fishin'? You think you just go out on a boat, catch a few fish and come home again?"
  For a second I thought about walking away, but the idea evaporated as quickly as the wisps of steam rising from the kettle.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Delete the last sentence.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Baygirl
  As soon as I opened the door, I could smell it. I looked at my watch. It was only three twenty in the afternoon. But time of day never made any difference to him. He had a whiskey with his bacon and eggs once. He drank it out of a coffee mug, as if that made it okay.
  I threw a teabag in a mug and snorted. "I thought, Catch the marlin, old man, and put me out of my misery."
  My father's jaw hardened.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: two more paragraphs. Start with the sentence 'It's a regular old day in Parsons Bay'.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: It's a regular old day in Parsons Bay. And on regular old days I go to the top of the cliff. The trail twists and turns and I'm winded by the time I reach my favorite spot. I sit on a boulder and look out over the Atlantic. It's not raining, but my cheeks are wet. The air smells of salt. I can hardly see my hand in front of my face. A real pea-souper, Nan would say.
  I can't see the ocean, but I can smell it. I can't see the seagulls, but I can hear them. I can't see the ships yet either, but I know they are there.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: the last four paragraphs
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: He slurped some tea and smacked his lips. He rubbed his hands together, took an exaggerated breath and began.
  I reached out and took his wrinkled hand. It was rough and cold, but it made me feel warm. How was that possible? I looked at the brown patches that covered his hand and knew that meant he was old. Nan had had those patches too. I hoped Mr. Adams lived a long, long time. I hoped he knew how much I cared.
  He tried to pull away like he always did. He was probably thinking up some wisecrack. But I held his hand tight.
  Originally from Newfoundland, Heather Smith now lives in Waterloo, Ontario, with her husband and three children. Her Newfoundland roots inspire much of her writing. For more information, visit www.heathertsmith.com
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Delete the last sentence.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: He slurped some tea and smacked his lips. He rubbed his hands together, took an exaggerated breath and began.
  I reached out and took his wrinkled hand. It was rough and cold, but it made me feel warm. How was that possible? I looked at the brown patches that covered his hand and knew that meant he was old. Nan had had those patches too. I hoped Mr. Adams lived a long, long time. I hoped he knew how much I cared.
  He tried to pull away like he always did. He was probably thinking up some wisecrack. But I held his hand tight.
  Originally from Newfoundland, Heather Smith now lives in Waterloo, Ontario, with her husband and three children. Her Newfoundland roots inspire much of her writing. For more information, visit www.heathertsmith.