Part staccato prose, part transcript, this haunting first novel will grip readers right from the start. Fragmented scenes re-create, with grim authenticity, the almost claustrophobic perspective of the eighth-grade narrator, Logan, as he struggles to come to terms with his role in a despicable crime. “A year ago I was fine. That’s when there was nothing wrong,” Logan says early on. In relaying the action chiefly through Logan’s terse observations and through script-like reproductions of dialogue, Ellis never veers from Logan’s point of view. In this way, she infuses the narrative with his guilt over what happened, the details of which are revealed only in a climactic finale. At the same time, the narrator’s frustration does not become the audience’s, thanks to Ellis’s skill in dramatizing his vulnerability. Readers will recognize themselves in Logan’s difficulty overcoming his shame, even if the scale of his experiences is larger than their own, and sympathy as well as curiosity about his circumstances will drive them forward. Logan’s progress is slow-but realistically so-and brings with it an almost cathartic relief for the audience. Plaudits go to the art department, too: a particularly attractive book design incorporates small drawings between each segment of text. Ages 12-up.

“A year ago, in seventh grade, I was fine,” says Logan, recalling his closeness with his friend Zyler and their burgeoning friendship with Cami, a girl Logan really liked. Now he and his family have moved to a new house and town to escape the shadow of a traumatic event involving Zyler and Cami; as Logan struggles with bullying and his new classmates and tentatively makes a connection with Laurel, a girl with a taste for palendromes, he begins gradually to reveal and to deal with his history. This is an original story, and it’s told in an offbeat and original style, with thirteen-year-old Logan’s narration appearing in brief, one-sentence thoughts structured in sections delineated by thematically relevant thumbnail artwork and punctuated by palindromic notes between Laurel and Logan. It’s actually a highly accessible format that also adds effectively to the tension, enhancing the tautness of Logan’s account and lending a certain verisimilitude in its unpolished and choppy relation. The bullying is depicted with more nuance and sophistication that usual, with the book tacitly noting the social physics of victimization as Logan moves from likely target (rumors have followed him to his new school) to an outcast whose tormenting is tacitly approved and sometimes abetted by adults. Logan’s reluctance to address his past is believable as well as suspenseful, and the event – Zyler shot his abusive father to stop his sexual assault of Cami, while a frightened Logan fled and refused to help his friend – is a dramatic and credible source of Logan’s guilt. Reluctant readers will particularly appreciate the blend of provocative story and approachable format, while readers in general will find much to discuss in this thoughtful story. DS

This powerful novel about abuse and anger, guilt and betrayal, does not so much unfold as it does circle around the traumatic event at its center in an ever tightening spiral . . . This painful novel serves as a grim reminder of the unspoken burdens children may carry. It is only near the end when healing begins that we learn what actually happened. The book captures the harsh realities of schools as complex societies, where students must learn at least as much about social interaction as about academic subjects. Though written for a younger audience, it bears comparison with such novels of betrayal as Khaled Hosseini’s The Kite Runner.

Timid Logan is relentlessly bullied by classmates and fellow Boy Scouts because of something they think he did last year, in 7th grade. Suspense builds as the reader tries to guess what happened. It turns out it’s what Logan didn’t do that haunts him . . . Told mainly in dialog, with handwritten notes (about palindromes) interspersed, this is a valuable if disturbing story of a boy finally finding the courage to speak up and take action.

THIS IS WHAT I DID: has a lot of line breaks like a verse novel and a lot of dialogue, making it an extremely quick read. Even the more reluctant readers will be gulping down this compelling nightmare of a contemporary YA mystery tale, in one sitting.

A boy is racked by guilt. His family have moved house and school to help him come to terms with a violent event at his best friend’s house, to no avail. Little do they realise just how much he knows about this unspoken tragedy – and how well-placed he was to prevent it. Keeping dark secrets buried deep down is always a mistake – and when it causes you to become vulnerable to all the petty thuggery of the playground, more tragedy seems inevitable. Told in the eleven-year-old boy’s own idiom, by carefully constructed flashback, this startlingly moving cliffhanger explores every range of bullying, and every response: the ambitious dad, the copy-cat son, the mob rule of the classroom, and the benign blindness of a hapless family. it all boils down to one question: just how guilty are you, when you knew but did not say?

What makes this psychological drama unique is the writing style of the author and format of the book. Silhouetted images are scattered throughout, palindromes are exchanged between Laurel and Logan with regularity, and the text is often written as if it were a screen play. Logan’s agony is the reader’s own as the layers of his story are revealed. What haunts him is every bit as terrible as suspected, but he has to tell as the reader is still guessing. Ellis’s outstanding novel marks her as an author to watch.

Eighth-grader Logan is struggling to deal with a violent situation he witnessed a year ago between his best friend, Zyler, and Zyler’s abusive father but insists to everyone around him that he is fine. Just fine. Reluctant readers will be drawn into this story, which also includes bullying classmates and a dismal winter camping trip. Frequentline breaks, screenplay-style dialogue, and emails and notes illustrated with black icons break up the scenes. Logan gets to play one of the Lost Boys in the school play, and finds that the theater crowd offers a respite from bullies. A friendship with a girl named Laurel (a palindrom collector who is thinking of changing her name to Laral), and a relationship with a counselor help Logan to begin the healing process and convince him to reconnect with Zyler. This psychological drama effectively explores our failure to protect youth from abuse inflicted by peers or adults. Caution: there’s a slang term for scrotum on page 1. – Cindy Dobrez

Something terrible happened last year involving Logan, his friend Zyler, Zyler’s physically abusive father, and a girl named Cami. Logan’s parents moved the family to a new neighborhood to try and offer Logan a fresh start. But it is not working. The repercussions have followed the eighth grader. He tries to be invisible, but he is tormented by kids in his class, who know something happened, but not what; by his scout troop (including the adult leader); and by his jock younger brothers. Still, Logan does not completely withdraw from the world. He builds sets for the school play, lands a small role in it, and starts an odd, palindrome-filled friendship with a girl. Through his thoughts, memories, brief bits of dialogue, and visits with a psychiatrist, Logan’s past is slowly unveiled. This novel is reminiscent of Mark Haddon’s The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time (Doubleday, 2003) both in its layout and in the emotional flatness of the narrator. Readers are in the protagonist’s head, which, since he has been severely traumatized, is not always a pleasant place to be. But Logan is doing the best he can and is very likable. The odd layout – no chapters, only small sections that cover a thought or a moment in time – is a stylistic touch that could have come across as gimmicky, but instead tells the story in an inventive way. This is an intense, well-told story that will make readers think hard about how they would handle rough situations in their lives. Expect it to generate a lot of questions and discussion. – Geri Diorio,The RidgefieldLibrary, CT

This strange American novel is written in a vague, disjointed style as if directly from inside the head of its mixed up young hero. Logan suffers from bullying and he’s also at odds with his father and younger twin brothers as he doesn’t share their passion or talents for sport. As his narrative unfolds, we discover that something else – something unspeakably horrible in his past is troubling him; for his family has uprooted to a new area for his sake, and started him at a new school. Soon rumors are spreading amongst his classmates that he’s guilty of some horrific crime. A fascinating, compulsive and thought-provoking book; though some youngsters might find it rather disturbing. (Age 11+)

This Is What I Did: sums itself up as “new home, new school, old secret”. Logan, 13, is bullied and sees himself as a reject and a loser. Every teenager will recognise the psychological and social unease of school and family interaction. When Logan discovers something terrible about his friend Zyler, he cannot tell, and the dark secret weighs him down. The ugliness and stupidity of the bullying, the parents’ helplessness, counselling sessions and a crazed assault are powerfully evoked. No gimmickry here, just fine, spare, page-turning writing with superb dialogue. Strongly recommended.

Imagine if you had witnessed something horrific. Imagine if it had happened to your friend. And imagine if you hadn’t done anything to help. That’s what it’s like to be Logan, an utterly frank, slightly awkward, and extremely loveable outcast enmeshed in a mysterious psychological drama. This story allows readers to piece together the sequence of events that has changed his life and changed his perspective on what it means to be a good friend and what it means to be a good person. This is What I Did: is a powerful read with clever touches, such as palindrome notes, strewn throughout the story and incorporated into the unique design of the book.

Ann Dee Ellis skillfully captures Mazzy’s determination and isolation as she struggles to care for both herself and her despondent mother while fending off what little help she is offered from the adult world.

The first-person narration is delivered in brief entries – some just a few entries long, others a few pages. These stream-of-consciousness passages gradually reveal details about Mazzy’s current and past life, including Mazzy’s little sister, Olivia, whose tragic death is the source of her mother’s depression and her father’s callous behavior.

The greatest strength of this novel lies in its true-to-life portrayals of a varied cast of characters, including an array of colorful neighbors. Mazzy’s even-handed descriptions of both the mundane and the tragic make for a touching story. It helps that Mazzy retains a sense of humor while never delving into self-pity. “This morning I ate thirteen marshmallows. . . . I got them out and they were on a plate and I ate them with chopsticks. A fly was buzzing around the kitchen. I tried to catch it with my chopsticks.” Readers will come to care deeply about Mazzy and will rejoice when the family finally comes together to address their situation.

“Everything is fine” continues to be the official line from Mazzy and her family, but it’s demonstrably not true. Mazzy’s sportscaster father has been out of town for weeks, leaving Mazzy on her own with her mother, who’s so severely depressed she won’t leave the bed even to wash herself. Though she gets occasional help from hired adults, Mazzy fiercely fends off inquiries from protective service of other perceived busybodies; she does, however, find occasional succor from a warmhearted neighbor lady, Norma, from a half-hearted acquaintanceship with the boy next door, Colby, and from her own ventures into painting in the mother’s art studio. The spare, fragmentary style that Ellis demonstrated in This is What I Did: (BCCB 9/07) returns here, and it works equally well for tough, desperate, and essentially abandoned Mazzy. The dire unfairness of Mazzy’s situation makes for poignant reading, and the book capably conveys her anger (embodied in her practice of making ineffective karate-chop gestures at her antagonists). Since it’s utterly clear that she simply can’t handle this situation on her own, the book is laden with tension from the start, but there’s and additional thread of suspense in the slow revelation in the tragedy that sent her family into its current downspiral; the accidental death of Mazzy’s baby sister a year ago. Readers may want her disturbingly self-centered father to get more of a comeuppance that he receives, but they’ll be glad to see Mazzy’s family finding a light at the end of a very dark tunnel indeed.

Mazzy, the heroine of Everything is Fine., is facing plenty of the challenges typical for her age. In the summer before she begins middle-school, she’s wrestling with the nature of her friendship with the boy across the street, and playing with the changes in her body by stuffing her shirt with oranges. But she’s facing unusual challenges as well: Her father is absent while trying to advance his career as a sportscaster, and her mother is practically catatonic as a result of a trauma that’s initially unspecified. Neighbors try to help, but in that way that adolescents have, Mazzy’s sure she can handle things on her own. As she did in her debut novel This Is What I Did:, Ellis employs a staccato rhythm in which thoughts seem to be grabbed as they’re flying through the protagonist’s churning mind. They’re emotional snapshots, and they’re potent both in what they reveal explicitly and in what they show Mazzy trying to hide from herself. Most impressively, Ellis conveys the compassion of the people around Mazzy even as Mazzy herself seems unable to appreciate the help they’re offering her.

LDS Fiction Crazy For Kids Books Readingjunkie’s Reading Roost Daily Herald piece

Impressionistic, elliptical and full of feeling, this story about an overwhelmed youngster valiantly trying to cope with her mother’s deep depression unfolds slowly, until readers finally grasp the terrible truth of the event that caused the breakdown of her once-functional family. Mazzy is trapped in a nightmare of guilt and helplessness. Her sportscaster father is off pursuing fame and fortune, leaving Mazzy stranded in the family’s increasingly disorganized home with her nearly catatonic mother. Neighbors make sporadic efforts to help, but Mazzy, who is fiercely protective of her wounded-bird mom, once a talented artist and art teacher, does her best to hide in the increasingly dire situation. Narrated in the first person, this tough but tender story gives a skewed child’s-eye view of the situation. Although readers understand more than Mazzy, who begins creating her own artwork as an emotional release, much is left ambiguous, particularly the motivations of her otherwise engaged father. What Ellis makes crystal-clear is how the tsunami of mental illness can devastate everybody in its wake.

Mazzy is fine. Her severely depressed, almost catatonic mother is fine—as long as Mazzy takes care of her and keeps neighbors and family-services investigators away. Her absent ESPN-host father is fine, though he’s been gone a while and Mazzy doesn’t feel like returning his calls. And the summer will be fine, as long as she can keep hanging out with Colby, her neighbor, and pursue her art. In spare prose verging on free verse, Mazzy tells her story, of her daily routines without parents, of her occasional interactions with neighbors—and of the tragic accident that recently killed her young sister and led to her family’s breakdown. Ellis impressively captures the voice of a sardonic, damaged, but surviving adolescent girl. Secondary characters are fleshed out well through Mazzy’s pointed descriptions and snappy dialogue, and Colby shines with humor and a personality that rings true. Readers are given glimpses into the family Mazzy used to have, and the girl she once was. Although the ending seems hasty and perhaps unrealistically optimistic, Ellis has created a unique snapshot of family tragedy that’s refreshingly devoid of melodrama.

When tragedy strikes and a teen becomes the parent, what happens to the teen? Everything is far from fine in Mazzy’s life. Her parents used to be happy. They used to dance, twirling and laughing. They both used to love Mazzy. That was a long time ago. Mom is sick. She doesn’t go into her art room anymore, in fact she won’t even get out of bed. She’s stopped eating, too. Bill, who does home health care, brings Mom pills when she runs out, rolls her onto her stomach or onto her back, and helps wash her. Dad has been gone on business for weeks. He said it would only be one, but one week turned into two and two into three. Now he’s coming home. He has to — the government has become involved. Mazzy’s been going through the motions, caring for Mom, fixing food and cleaning the house. She has her own pain, but no one seems to notice, not the stuff that really matters. What at face value seems simple becomes intricate and telling in “Everything is Fine,” an engrossing look at the resiliency of youth. Ann Dee Ellis’ spare prose is telling and poetic as she brings Mazzy’s fractured world to the page with earnest detail.

I finished Everything is Fine in about one sitting. The writing is so crisp and minimalist and evocative that you devour the story before realizing what Ann Dee’s up to. She doesn’t give us much time to reflect, which makes it all the more necessary to pay attention to the psychological nuance. This book’s main character is as disturbing as the hapless protagonist in This is What I Did, Ann Dee’s first book, and just as endearing. She gives us limited access to a vulnerable person whose interior world seems so exposed to us, but we learn what Mazzy feels more by visual cues, her little tics and anxious movements, than what she says. Ann Dee’s prose style is more poetry than prose, which makes for fast, to-the-gut reading. Just as we’re easing into the cadence of a broken domestic life, tragedy strikes, and the tragedy serves less as a plot device than an illumination of what has gone before. Ann Dee has a keen sense of teen conversation, a mixture of stupid goofing and razor’s edge feelings. We’re more eavesdroppers than anything–interior access is barred, which makes the lightning revelations more important as they accumulate into a prose poem of fragile youth, written with charity and insight.

Rave reviews for The End or Something Like That

“The End or Something Like That dares you to suspend all disbelief and look at loss, and life itself, in an entirely new way.  This is a hilarious and awesomely weird ode to friendship and youth—with the kind of stellar prose that won’t let you look away.” – John Corey Whaley, Printz Award winning-author of Where Things Come Back

“The End or Something Like That breaks your heart and mends it back together with hope and humor. After reading this book, I believe.” – Ally Condie, author of the #1 New York Times Bestselling Matched Trilogy

* “The Las Vegas setting powerfully contrasts the absurdity of life against the separation of death, and several truly uncomfortable scenes involving Emmy’s classmates lays bare just how ill-equipped many people are to handle death. A hard-hitting story about remembering the dead while not forgetting the living.” – Publishers Weekly, starred review

“Ellis skillfully captures what it’s like to be a kid who flies beneath the radar and is afraid to speak up.” – School Library Journal

“The choppy, edgy tone of Ellis’ dialogue illuminates Emmy’s longing for her old friend. She practically burns with intensity, even as she gradually begins to move on.” – Booklist

“Incredibly funny, sad, magical, and real all at the same time. Count me as a major fan.” – Holly Goldberg Sloan, New York Times bestselling author of Counting by 7s

“Ann Dee Ellis is my own personal J.D. Salinger. Sometimes haunted, sometimes haunting, but always achingly human, she finds truth in a burrito and a pizza boy, a fistful of gummy bears, and a dead science teacher. You will truly love this book.” – Margaret Stohl, New York Times bestselling co-author of the Beautiful Creatures series  

“Ann Dee Ellis has one of the most interesting voices I know. I love the humor, honesty, and restraint with which she explores Emmy’s complicated relationship with the past, the present, and herself.” – Sara Zarr, National Book Award Finalist for Story of a Girl