This book is a Black Eyed Susan nominee. I am not sure this is a good representation of what is means to be autistic because the readers learn about the young boy through others and their perspective. The author notes that she interviewed parents and siblings of autistic children - did she interview someone with autism?

Had a hard time getting into the story. ( )

7/10 ( )

4.5 stars

What a sweet, moving, unique book—I loved it. I think I really needed to read something that focused on humanity at its best. There was so much goodness in this book—friendship, empathy, acceptance of differences, and a community working together toward a common purpose.
The POVs change periodically, but the main POV is a sixth grade girl named Aurora who is best friends with a non-vocal Autistic boy named Frenchie. When Frenchie disappears after being dropped off at school one day, Aurora blames herself, her father, who dropped them off, blames himself, and Frenchie’s teacher blames himself. I must admit to developing a crush on the latter by the end of the book. Don’t blame yourself, Mr. Menkis!
One of the things I really liked about the book is how many adult POVs came into the story. They weren’t all well-acquainted with Aurora or Frenchie, but they had each crossed paths with them in one way or another. As an adult, I found this interesting, and I wonder if kids who read it will too, like it’s opening a secret window into the minds of grown-ups. I don’t know, but I like to think it will be a plus for kids too, since they’re the target audience.
The other thing I thought was neat was the detailed description of what a modern missing person search looks like, with everyone using an app to receive search updates and to ensure they’re searching the area they’re assigned. I was fascinated by this aspect of the story.
The number of accidents that kept people from noticing as Frenchie passed nearby felt a little forced. I don’t know if the author was trying to make a point about how much of our surroundings escape our notice as we focus in so tightly on our own stuff, but I think subtler distractions might have made the point better if that was the goal (I’d be distracted by what happened to Mrs. Thrift if it had happened to me, for example, and rightly so).
Aurora’s narration was a good way to bring out her own challenges, although hers are never defined. From the author’s notes at the end, she was maybe supposed to be on the autism spectrum too. She was Frenchie’s opposite in many ways, especially with her tendency to blurt things out very loudly. I did not love her exclamations of “Sheeshy sheesh,” which I found excessively cutesie. Sorry, world. I’m old, and I have my crotchets.
I loved the ending, and it made me cry. You might cry too, but you should read this book if you want to smile and feel good, because you’ll do that more. ( )

One of my new favorite middle grade books by one of my favorite middle grade writers. Pair up impulsive, rock-loving Aurora with non-verbal, bird-loving Frenchie and what do you get? Best friends. Each other's "person." Not many people seem to get silent Frenchie, but Aurora does. She interprets his body language. Not many people seem to get loud Aurora, but Frenchie does. He stays close to her. Frenchie is largely (not entirely) ignored by most folks, but this small Maine town jumps into action when he goes missing, and some of their assumptions about both Frenchie and Aurora change as they search. Toss in a Poem Barn, a cute-as-anything toddler, a scenic wooded setting, and a piebald deer, and you've got a story that's hard to stop reading. ( )

Aurora and her next-door neighbor Frenchie are neurodiverse in their own ways. Aurora is loud and spontaneous, and she works hard on tempering her behavior. Frenchie is non-vocal (likely with autism although it is never named specifically) and connects to nature. Aurora knows how to read Frenchie and understand when he is in a good mood or feeling uncomfortable. She accepts Frenchie as he is and they are each other's people. Then Frenchie goes missing and Aurora cannot contain the urgency to help find him. The author conveys Aurora's and Frenchie's unique personalities and individual challenges in a way that centers inclusion. The small-town community support further underscores the story's embrace. ( )