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From Andrew Smith’s Stick

You’ve got to read this book. The story and the language are unbelievable. Andrew Smith makes me want to be a better man.

One of many beautiful passages below the jump…

“I’m sorry, Stick.”
And words like those, from my brother, were the kind of words that could get inside my head and whirr around like mad hornets trying to find a way out.

Sure he was sorry.
I knew what he meant.
He wasn’t sorry he busted 
that fucker’s face open.
He wasn’t sorry we got thrown out of a
goddamned basketball game.
Those were things you’d laugh about
and tell stories about over and over.
Things like that make normal boys normal
boys.
But goddamnit, goddamnit, GODDAMNIT
I knew what Bosten was sorry about. 
He was sorry about me, like he felt
some kind of responsibility for me being me.
Like he knew what she was thinking every time
Mom looked at me, so he was sorry for that.
Like he had to admit
that since nobody else was sorry for me,
he might as well do the job.


from pp. 26-27 of Andrew Smith’s Stick, Feiwel and Friends, 2011.





2 Comments

  • hellskitchen on Feb 14, 2013 Reply

    When in despair, I go and sit at Stick and Bosten’s aunt’s kitchen table and let her serve me pancakes.

    You’re the best, Carrie.

    Anne in Hell’s Kitchen

  • Matthew MacNish on Feb 14, 2013 Reply

    All Andrew’s books are incredible, but this one made me cry the most.

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