Poetry, first love, and family trauma all play roles in a queer Iranian American teen’s coming of age.
Mitra Esfahani, a “Muslim-Zoroastrian raised-in-Catholic-school weirdo,” has worn a protective shell since she was young, ever since her mother’s addiction to painkillers reached a tipping point and changed her family forever. Her lifeline has always been poetry: It both connects her to her heritage through her love for ancient Persian poets and also forms a bond with her best friend and secret crush, Bea Ortega, who’s Mexican American. Together, with the help of The Book (the ongoing, shared work of confessional poetry that they began writing the year they met), the two seniors have withstood the trials of being queer people of color at their stuffy private Catholic school in upscale Medina, Washington. When Bea expresses her attraction, Mitra is euphoric about finally being able to show her true feelings—but she’s also convinced she’s going to screw everything up. Things become more complicated as ghosts of Mitra’s traumatic childhood resurface, forcing her to confront the way her history has been holding her back without her realizing it. The author, a therapist, offers a heartbreaking but hopeful portrayal of parental addiction and its impact on families, written in lyrical first-person prose alternating with excerpts of poetry. Chat logs, passed notes, and other ephemera are included, which lend authenticity to Mitra and her world.
Expressive, emotional, and quietly optimistic.
(Fiction. 13-18)