Things You Can't Say

“As Things You Can't Say shows the gaping fissures that loss and grief can cause in a kiddo's life, so too does it show how those same fissures may begin to heal and close. That we are rooting so hard for their closing in Andrew's life is a measure of how wonderfully real and honest this story is, and of how deep our need is for just the right words.” —Gary D. Schmidt, Newbery Honor Winner and National Book Award Finalist

“With grit and authenticity, Bishop takes us inside the head and heart of a young boy. Be prepared to laugh, cry, cheer, and turn the last page with a satisfying sigh." —Barbara O'Connor, author of Wonderland

“This touching, authentic novel will open readers’ eyes and hearts about mental health issues in loving, ‘normal’ families. Jenn Bishop explores a challenging subject with sensitivity and grace.” —Barbara Dee, author of Maybe He Just Likes You

"People who go away forever. People who come out of nowhere. People who drift away and then drift back. Three years after the death of his father, young Drew finds a way to make peace with all these sorts of people. An emotional tale of a boy who finds it takes equal measures of courage to move forward and to look back.” —Paul Mosier, author of Echo's Sister

"There is so much that 12-year-old Drew can't say. He can't ask his mom why, three years ago, his seemingly happy father killed himself. He can't ask her why an old friend of hers, Phil, has suddenly shown up on his motorcycle and completely disrupted Drew's life or whether or not, as he's begun to suspect, that man is his real father. He can't quite bring himself to tell prickly Audrey, the new helper at the library where he volunteers all summer, that he's starting to really like her. And he can't tell his best friend, Filipe, any of the things that are really on his mind. Perhaps, the biggest thing he can't communicate is that he's terrified that whatever was wrong with his father could be haunting his future, too. In this believable, character-driven exploration of the long-lasting shadow suicide casts, Bishop imbues Drew, his loving mother, and Audrey with just enough insight to make their efforts to support each other fully believable. Drew's emerging anger with his father is both poignant and tragically appropriate. Drew's present-tense narration is candid and vulnerable, offering readers both mirrors for and windows to this particular, very difficult experience. The cast defaults to white. An author's note discusses suicide and, together with an appended list of resources, offers direction for readers in search of support; in the acknowledgments, Bishop briefly describes her research. A thoughtful examination of the slow, uneven recovery that follows a devastating loss. (Fiction. 10-14)" —Kirkus Reviews