{"id":5466,"date":"2010-08-18T23:01:24","date_gmt":"2010-08-19T04:01:24","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/\/?p=5466"},"modified":"2010-08-18T23:01:24","modified_gmt":"2010-08-19T04:01:24","slug":"solitary-by-travis-thrasher","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/?p=5466","title":{"rendered":"Solitary by Travis Thrasher"},"content":{"rendered":"

<\/a>\"\"<\/a>It is time for a FIRST Wild Card Tour<\/a><\/strong><\/span> <\/strong> book review! If you wish to join the FIRST blog alliance, just click the button. We are a group of reviewers who tour Christian books. A Wild Card post includes a brief bio of the author and a full chapter from each book toured. The reason it is called a FIRST Wild Card Tour is that you never know if the book will be fiction, non~fiction, for young, or for old…or for somewhere in between! Enjoy your free peek into the book!<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

You never know when I might play a wild card on you!<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n


<\/p>\n

Today’s Wild Card author is: <\/strong><\/div>\n


<\/p>\n

Travis Thrasher<\/a><\/span><\/strong><\/div>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

and the book:<\/span> <\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

Solitary <\/a><\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

David C. Cook; New edition (August 1, 2010)<\/p>\n

***Special thanks to Audra Jennings Senior Media Specialist<\/p>\n

The B&B Media Group for sending me a review copy.***<\/p>\n

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:<\/span> <\/span><\/strong><\/div>\n

\"\"<\/a>Travis Thrasher is an author of diverse talents with more than twelve published novels including romance, suspense, adventure, and supernatural horror tales. At the core of each of his stories lie flawed characters in search of redemption. Thrasher weaves hope within all of his tales, and he loves surprising his readers with amazing plot twists and unexpected variety in his writing. Travis lives with his wife and daughter in a suburb of Chicago. Solitary is his first young adult novel.<\/p>\n

Visit the author’s website<\/a>.<\/p>\n

\n<\/embed><\/object>\n<\/p>\n

Product Details:<\/p>\n

List Price: $14.99<\/p>\n

Paperback: 400 pages<\/p>\n

Publisher: David C. Cook; New edition (August 1, 2010)<\/p>\n

Language: English<\/p>\n

ISBN-10: 1434764214<\/p>\n

ISBN-13: 978-1434764218<\/p>\n

AND NOW…THE FIRST CHAPTER:<\/span> <\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n


<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

\n

1 . Half a Person<\/p>\n


<\/p>\n

She\u2019s beautiful.<\/p>\n

She stands behind two other girls, one a goth coated in black and the other a blonde with wild hair and an even wilder smile. She\u2019s waiting, looking off the other way, but I\u2019ve already memorized her face.<\/p>\n

I\u2019ve never seen such a gorgeous girl in my life.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou really like them?\u201d<\/p>\n

The goth girl is the one talking; maybe she\u2019s the leader of their pack. I\u2019ve noticed them twice already today because of her, the one standing behind. The beautiful girl from my second-period English class, the one with the short skirt and long legs and endless brown hair, the one I can\u2019t stop thinking about. She\u2019s hard not to notice.<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, they\u2019re one of my favorites,\u201d I say.<\/p>\n

We\u2019re talking about my T-shirt. It\u2019s my first day at this school, and I\u2019d be lying if I said I didn\u2019t think carefully about what I was going to wear. It\u2019s about making a statement. I would have bet that 99 percent of the seven hundred kids at this high school wouldn\u2019t know what Strangeways, Here We Come refers to.<\/p>\n

Guess I found the other 1 percent.<\/p>\n

I was killing time after lunch by wandering aimlessly when the threesome stopped me. Goth Girl didn\u2019t even say hi; she just pointed at the murky photograph of a face on my shirt and asked where I got it. She made it sound like I stole it.<\/p>\n

In a way, I did.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re not from around here, are you?\u201d Goth Girl asks. Hersparkling blue eyes are almost hidden by her dark eyeliner.<\/p>\n

\u201cDid the shirt give it away?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNobody in this school listens to The Smiths.\u201d<\/p>\n

I can tell her that I stole the shirt, or in a sense borrowed it, butthen she\u2019d ask me from where.<\/p>\n

I don\u2019t want to tell her I found it in a drawer in the house we\u2019re staying at. A cabin that belongs to my uncle. A cabin that used to belong to my uncle when he was around.<\/p>\n

\u201cI just moved here from a suburb of Chicago.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat suburb?\u201d the blonde asks.<\/p>\n

\u201cLibertyville. Ever hear of it?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n

I see the beauty shift her gaze around to see who\u2019s watching. Which is surprising, because most attractive girls don\u2019t have to do that. They know that they\u2019re being watched.<\/p>\n

This is different. Her glance is more suspicious. Or anxious.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s your name?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cChris Buckley.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGood taste in music, Chris,\u201d Goth Girl says. \u201cI\u2019m Poe. This is Rachel. And she\u2019s Jocelyn.\u201d<\/p>\n

That\u2019s right. Her name\u2019s Jocelyn. I remember now from class.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat else do you like?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI got a wide taste in music.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDo you like country?\u201d Poe asks.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, not really.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGood. I can\u2019t stand it. Nobody who wears a T-shirt like that would ever like country.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI like country,\u201d Rachel says.<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t admit it. So why\u2019d you move here?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cParents got a divorce. My mom decided to move, and I came with her.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDid you have a choice?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNot really. But if I had I would\u2019ve chosen to move with her.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy here?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSome of our family lives in Solitary. Or used to. I have a couple relatives in the area.\u201d I choose not to say anything about Uncle Robert. \u201cMy mother grew up around here.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat sucks,\u201d Poe says.<\/p>\n

\u201cSolitary is a strange town,\u201d Rachel says with a grin that doesn\u2019t seem to ever go away. \u201cAnybody tell you that?\u201d<\/p>\n

I shake my head.<\/p>\n

\u201cJoss lives here; we don\u2019t,\u201d Poe says. \u201cI\u2019m in Groveton; Rach lives on the border to South Carolina. Joss tries to hide out at our places because Solitary fits its name.\u201d<\/p>\n

Jocelyn looks like she\u2019s late for something, her body language screaming that she wants to leave this conversation she\u2019s not a part of. She still hasn\u2019t acknowledged me.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat year are you guys?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJuniors. I\u2019m from New York\u2014can\u2019t you tell? Rachel is from Colorado, and Jocelyn grew up here, though she wants to get out as soon as she can. You can join our club if you like.\u201d<\/p>\n

Part of me wonders if I\u2019d have to wear eyeliner and lipstick.<\/p>\n

\u201cClub?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe misfits. The outcasts. Whatever you want to call it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNot sure if I want to join that.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou think you fit in?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo,\u201d I say.<\/p>\n

\u201cGood. We\u2019ll take you. You fit with us. Plus \u2026 you\u2019re cute.\u201d<\/p>\n

Poe and her friends walk away.<\/p>\n

Jocelyn finally glances at me and smiles the saddest smile I\u2019ve ever seen.<\/p>\n

I\u2019d be lying if I said I wasn\u2019t terrified.<\/p>\n

I might look cool and nonchalant and act cool and nonchalant, but inside I\u2019m quaking.<\/p>\n

I spent the first sixteen years of my life around the same people, going to the same school, living in the same town with the same two parents.<\/p>\n

Now everything is different.<\/p>\n

The students who pass me are nameless, faceless, expressionless. We are part of a herd that jumps to life like Pavlov\u2019s dog at the sound of the bell, which really is a low drone that sounds like it comes from some really bad sci-fi movie. It\u2019s hard to keep the cool and nonchalant thing going while staring in confusion at my school map. I probably look pathetic.<\/p>\n

I dig out the computer printout of my class list and look at it again. I swear there\u2019s not a room called C305.<\/p>\n

I must be looking pathetic, because she comes up to me and asks if I\u2019m lost.<\/p>\n

Jocelyn can actually talk.<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, kinda.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhere are you going?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSome room\u2014C305. Does that even exist?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOf course it does. I\u2019m actually heading there right now.\u201d There\u2019s an attitude in her voice, as if she\u2019s ready for a fight even if one\u2019s not coming.<\/p>\n

\u201cHistory?\u201d<\/p>\n

She nods.<\/p>\n

\u201cSecond class together,\u201d I say, which elicits a polite and slightly annoyed smile.<\/p>\n

She explains to me how the rooms are organized, with C stuck between A and B for some crazy reason. But I don\u2019t really hear the words she\u2019s saying. I look at her and wonder if she can see me blushing. Other kids are staring at me now for the first time today. They look at Jocelyn and look at me\u2014curious, critical, cutting. I wonder if I\u2019m imagining it.<\/p>\n

After a minute of this, I stare off a kid who looks like I threw manure in his face.<\/p>\n

\u201cNot the friendliest bunch of people, are they?\u201d I ask.<\/p>\n

\u201cPeople here don\u2019t like outsiders.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThey didn\u2019t even notice me until now.\u201d<\/p>\n

She nods and looks away, as if this is her fault. Her hair, so thick and straight, shimmers all the way past her shoulders. I could stare at her all day long.<\/p>\n

\u201cGlad you\u2019re in some of my classes.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sure you are,\u201d she says.<\/p>\n

We reach the room.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, thanks.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo problem.\u201d<\/p>\n

She says it the way an upperclassmen might answer a freshman. Or an older sister, her bratty brother. I want to say something witty, but nothing comes to mind.<\/p>\n

I\u2019m sure I\u2019m not the first guy she\u2019s left speechless.<\/p>\n

Every class I\u2019m introduced to seems more and more unimpressed.<\/p>\n

\u201cThis is Christopher Buckley from Chicago, Illinois,\u201d the teachers say, in case anybody doesn\u2019t know where Chicago is.<\/p>\n

In case anybody wonders who the new breathing slab of human is, stuck in the middle of the room.<\/p>\n

A redheaded girl with a giant nose stares at me, then glances at my shirt as if I have food smeared all over it. She rolls her eyes and then looks away.<\/p>\n

Glancing down at my shirt makes me think of a song by The Smiths, \u201cHalf a Person.\u201d<\/p>\n

That\u2019s how I feel.<\/p>\n

I\u2019ve never been the most popular kid in school. I\u2019m a soccer player in a football world. My parents never had an abundance of money. I\u2019m not overly good looking or overly smart or overly anything, to be honest. Just decent looking and decent at sports and decent at school. But decent doesn\u2019t get you far. Most of the time you need to be the best at one thing and stick to it.<\/p>\n

I think about this as I notice more unfamiliar faces. A kid who looks like he hasn\u2019t bathed for a week. An oily-faced girl who looks miserable. A guy with tattoos who isn\u2019t even pretending to listen.<\/p>\n

I never really fit in back in Libertyville, so how in the world am I going to fit in here?<\/p>\n

Two more years of high school.<\/p>\n

I don\u2019t want to think about it.<\/p>\n

As the teacher drones on about American history and I reflect on my own history, my eyes find her.<\/p>\n

I see her glancing my way.<\/p>\n

For a long moment, neither of us look away.<\/p>\n

For that long moment, it\u2019s just the two of us in the room.<\/p>\n

Her glance is strong and tough. It\u2019s almost as if she\u2019s telling me to remain the same, as if she\u2019s saying, Don\u2019t let them get you down.<\/p>\n

Suddenly, I have this amazingly crazy thought: I\u2019m glad I\u2019m here.<\/p>\n

I have to fight to get out of the room to catch up to Jocelyn.<\/p>\n

I\u2019ve had forty minutes to think of exactly what I want to say, but by the time I catch up to her, all that comes out is \u201chey.\u201d<\/p>\n

She nods.<\/p>\n

Those eyes cripple me. I\u2019m not trying to sound cheesy\u2014they do. They bind my tongue.<\/p>\n

For an awkward sixty seconds, the longest minute of my sixteen years, I walk the hallway beside her. We reach the girls\u2019 room, and she opens the door and goes inside. I stand there for a second, wondering<\/p>\n

if I should wait for her, then feeling stupid and ridiculous, wondering why I\u2019m turning into a head of lettuce around a stranger I just met.<\/p>\n

But I know exactly why.<\/p>\n

As I head down the hallway, toward some other room with some other teacher unveiling some other plan to educate us, I feel someone grab my arm.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou don\u2019t want to mess with that.\u201d<\/p>\n

I wonder if I heard him right. Did he say that or her?<\/p>\n

I turn and see a short kid with messy brown hair and a pimply face. I gotta be honest\u2014it\u2019s been a while since I\u2019d seen a kid with this many pimples. Doctors have things you can do for that. The word pus comes to mind.<\/p>\n

\u201cMess with what?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJocelyn. If I were you, I wouldn\u2019t entertain such thoughts.\u201d<\/p>\n

Who is this kid, and what\u2019s he talking about?<\/p>\n

And what teenager says, \u201cI wouldn\u2019t entertain such thoughts\u201d?<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat thoughts would those be?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t be a wise guy.\u201d<\/p>\n

Pimple Boy sounds like the wise guy, with a weaselly voice that seems like it\u2019s going to deliver a punch line any second.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat are you talking about?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLook, I\u2019m just warning you. I\u2019ve seen it happen before. I\u2019m nobody, okay, and nobodies can get away with some things. And you look like a decent guy, so I\u2019m just telling you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTelling me what?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNot to take a fancy with the lady.\u201d<\/p>\n

Did he just say that in an accent that sounded British, or is it my imagination?<\/p>\n

\u201cI was just walking with her down the hallway.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah. Okay. Then I\u2019ll see you later.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWait. Hold on,\u201d I say. \u201cIs she taken or something?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah. She\u2019s spoken for. And has been for sometime.\u201d<\/p>\n

Pimple Boy says this the way he might tell me that my mother is dying.<\/p>\n

It\u2019s bizarre.<\/p>\n

And a bit spooky.<\/p>\n

I realize that Harrington County High in Solitary, North Carolina, is a long way away from Libertyville.<\/p>\n

I think about what the odd kid just told me.<\/p>\n

This is probably bad.<\/p>\n

Because one thing in my life has been a constant. You can ask my mother or father, and they\u2019d agree.<\/p>\n

I don\u2019t like being told what to do.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

MY REVIEW:<\/strong><\/p>\n

Chris Buckley is the new guy in town. A town full of deep dark secrets. A town where he is both watched and ignored by almost everyone. A town where he is constantly warned away from the only real friend he has made there. The longer Chris lives in Solitary, the more twisted, confused, and dangerous his life becomes.<\/p>\n

Solitary<\/a> is a story filled with darkness yet the light tends to peek through in the most unexpected places. The plot is paced with a deliberation that keeps the reader off guard right along with Chris. Every time he thinks his life might be normal again, something happens that turns it upside down – and each time that happens, the plot intensifies as it builds to its surprising climax that leaves you wanting more.<\/p>\n

Solitary<\/a> is a brilliantly written novel that should appeal to those who enjoy the suspense or horror genres. I look forward to the next installment of the Solitary Tales Series<\/strong><\/em> to find out what future mysteries Travis has in store.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

It is time for a FIRST Wild Card Tour book review! If you wish to join the FIRST blog alliance, just click the button. We are a group of reviewers who tour Christian books. A Wild Card post includes a brief bio of the author and a full chapter from each book toured. The reason […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[8,60,33,76,58],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-5466","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-books","category-contemporary-fiction","category-suspense","category-urban-fiction","category-young-adult"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5466","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=5466"}],"version-history":[{"count":9,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5466\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":5475,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5466\/revisions\/5475"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=5466"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=5466"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=5466"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}