Farizan's new book reminds me of of Barbara Clanton's series published by Regal Crest Enterprises. The story is a good read for teens and especially gives insight into the challenges of coming out in an Iranian family culture. ( )

The first time I read this, I laughed, I cried, and loved every minute. I raced to Google for information on details of the book, ignoring my post-bac homework for a bit. Then I went back to it and was cranky. I couldn't stop thinking about this book. I wanted to read it again immediately. The second time reading was tonight. When I first read it, the title drew me in. It reminded me of a short story I'd read as a tween about a high school girl that ended with her friend saying, "If it didn't hurt, they wouldn't call it a crush." I expected this book to be that heartbreaking, and was so annoyed when it wasn't. This time, I remembered parts of it. I still laughed. I rolled my eyes a lot, and I haaaated Saskia all over again. Things that I didn't notice the first read: um, that is NOT what a stage manager is. I was so frustrated, and wondered where the author got the idea. And why the stereotypical negative portrayal of gay male high schoolers? Both of these things had me lower the original rating considerably. I'm still looking really forward to rereading another work of Farizan's. ( )

“I also began to notice how white everything was. The students, the students’ teeth, and the fences surrounding the outdoor swimming pools we never used. We all seemed to categorize ourselves without ever explicitly saying anything. Where does that leave students who don’t have a clear category?”

It’s not easy being different in school. Leila already stands out because of her Iranian background, but she also holds close to her a secret – she likes girls.

“I’m not ready to announce my lady-loving inclinations as yet. I can hear the whispering, knowing that what they are snickering about could easily be me. I’m already different enough at this school. I don’t need to add anything else to that.”

Leila is drawn to Saskia – she’s confident, clever, poised, she stands out yet is comfortable with that. She’s not quite so sure why Saskia wants to befriend her though.

Leila constantly worries about coming out to her family. A family they know have shunned their son who was seen kissing another man. How would her own conservative Iranian parents react?

“You know where they’re from, being gay is illegal? They imprison people over there for feeling like I do! Sentence them to death sometimes.”

When I reflect back on Lucy and Linh, the other book I recently read that focuses on teenagers in school, Tell Me Again How A Crush Should Feel is less complex, more simply told. There’s nothing wrong with that though. Sometimes a lighter read is what’s needed. It’s a lighter read yet it discusses some complicated issues that face many teens out there – discovering their own identity, standing up for themselves and what they believe in, relationships with family and friends, and learning that it’s ok to be different. ( )

diverse teen fiction (16-y.o. Iranian/Persian-American lesbian teen as protagonist).

sweet romance with snarky/hilarious dialogue for teens (with some drinking, marijuana and references to sex). Fortunately, all the adults in Leila's life are pretty loving and supportive when she comes out, though she does have to deal with her classmates (who are mostly also OK). ( )

On the cover, Sarah Dessen, who books I usually enjoy, tells me “Sara Farizan is just the voice YA needs right now,” so I had high hopes for a lesbian romance with a Persian protagonist. Unfortunately, I wound up slimming through the novel, because the much-lauded voice is that same banal upper middle class whine that sets me on edge with so much American fiction.
Not everyone’s a David Levithan, creating authentic voices that revel in nuance and philosophy, but plenty of YA authors can do an everyday voice without dumbing it down into mundanity. For me, this novel fails on all counts. Not only does the first person narrator lack sophistication of vocabulary, sentence structure or content, but there’s nothing much to distinguish her characterisation from dozens of other stories out there. Sure Leila’s a lesbian, but her naiveté regarding her first relationship is too superficial to make sense, and both it’s complication and resolution are underdeveloped. Sure she’s Persian, but her family experiences seem tacked on to the all-American schoolgirl persona. The characterisation simply isn’t strong enough to represent the dynamics of growing up as a first generation American, and the plot doesn’t allow her to live out the consequences of her decisions. Whether she is choosing to ditch school for a day or falling in love with the rich, exotic allure of the new girl, the stakes just aren’t that high.
When I started writing this review, I felt there was little Persian content here, but then I itemised in my head and realised there was heaps. From wedding scenes starring mouth-watering food, to her sister aiding and abetting a sleepover with her love interest and angst about coming out to parents who grew up in a country where gay relationships can receive the death penalty (read Deboroah Ellis’ Moon at Nine, if you want to know more), there’s lots that students from middle eastern backgrounds will relate to. I’ve had students complain about customs such as taraf (polite offerings to show respect), not to speak of the pressure to become a doctor or engineer, whether or not they excel in science, and I’m sure they’ll be delighted to read an own voices novel that reflects their experiences. However, there’s not really enough substance to convey these experiences to someone outside the culture – they come across as a tick-box of stereotypes rather than immersing the reader in the culture. I can’t really recommend this one at all. ( )