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Summary
Summary
Tommy Wallach, the New York Times bestselling author of the "stunning debut" ( Kirkus Reviews , starred review) We All Looked Up , delivers a brilliant new novel about a young man who overcomes a crippling loss and finds the courage to live after meeting an enigmatic girl.
"Was this story written about me?"
I shrugged.
"Yes or no?"
I shrugged again, finally earning a little scowl, which somehow made the girl even more pretty.
"It's very rude not to answer simple questions," she said.
I gestured for my journal, but she still wouldn't give it to me. So I took out my pen and wrote on my palm.
I can't , I wrote. Then, in tiny letters below it: Now don't you feel like a jerk?
Parker Santé hasn't spoken a word in five years. While his classmates plan for bright futures, he skips school to hang out in hotels, killing time by watching the guests. But when he meets a silver-haired girl named Zelda Toth, a girl who claims to be quite a bit older than she looks, he'll discover there just might be a few things left worth living for.
From the celebrated author of We All Looked Up comes a unique story of first and last loves.
Author Notes
Tommy Wallach is the author of the Anchor & Sophia trilogy, Thanks for the Trouble , and the New York Times bestselling We All Looked Up , which has been translated into over a dozen languages. His writing has appeared in McSweeney's , Tin House , Wired , and other magazines, and he is a MacDowell Fellow. He was signed to Decca Records as a singer-songwriter, and has independently released two full-length albums, including We All Looked Up: The Album , a companion record to his first novel. He currently lives in Los Angeles, where he recently opened up his first escape room, and is working on bringing his novels to various sorts of screens. Grok more at TommyWallach.com.
Reviews (6)
Publisher's Weekly Review
In response to a college application question ("What was the single most important experience of your life?"), Parker Santé, a mute, Hispanic 17-year-old, writes an incredible story. When he steals a wad of cash from a silver-haired, sharp-witted girl named Zelda, who is planning to throw herself off the Golden Gate Bridge, Parker isn't sure what to make of her. After agreeing not to jump until her money is spent and Parker promises to apply to college, the two embark on a breakneck tour of parties, shopping, and confrontations with Parker's mother, an alcoholic consumed by memories of her deceased husband. Parker may not believe that Zelda is, as she claims, 246 years old, but there's no doubt that she helps him rediscover a longing to participate in the world. Wallach (We All Looked Up) delivers well-rounded, witty characters ("Thinking of your parents being young is like thinking of Winnie-the-Pooh going to the bathroom: just fucking weird")-all contemplating whether living a full life is better than living a long one. Bittersweet moments intersect with the intricate fairy tales Parker writes, compelling readers to judge what is real and what is make-believe. Ages 14-up. Agent: John Cusick, Folio Literary Management. (Feb.) © Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved.
Horn Book Review
Two introspective teensone silent and one possibly immortalshare a life- changing weekend in this contemporary, fantastical romance. Parker Sant, seventeen, has psychogenic aphonia; he stopped talking after his father died five years ago. He resists treatment and communicates via notebook, deliberately distancing himself from his peers and his future. Then he meets Zeldaa mysterious, silver-haired girl who says shes lived for centuries. Shes on her way to finally end it all by jumping from the Golden Gate Bridge, but first she invites Parker to help spend her life savings; smitten, he accepts. Parker recounts their adventures with a whip-smart, sardonic narrative voice in this fast-paced romp around an atmospheric San Francisco, interspersed with Parkers fantasy short stories and sustained by a steady course of philosophic (and flirtatious) banter. While Parker tries to unravel the truth about Zeldas wild claim, Zelda is on a mission to help Parker shed his apathy so he can enjoy the pleasures life has to offer. A romantic wish-fulfillment fantasy? Absolutely, but the pairs ample chemistry and illuminating conversations about what makes life worth living make both their fast-burning romance and Parkers eventual transformation feel organic and well earned. jessica tackett macdonald(c) Copyright 2016. The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Booklist Review
Best-selling author Wallach's sophomore effort puts an atypical twist on the standard boy-meets-girl equation. Skipping school on Halloween, mute high-school senior Parker Santé meets silver-haired Zelda Toth at the luxurious Palace Hotel in San Francisco. Zelda totes a stack of $100 bills, claims to be immortal, and plans to jump off the Golden Gate Bridge. The two make a deal: she'll spend her money on Parker as long as he promises to apply to and attend college. What follows is an adventurous, epiphany-filled three days that test their handshake agreement. Although Wallach's zippy writing is terrifically clever, dumb, not stupid Parker's musings do not always cohere completely into a story. Zelda's manic-pixie-dream-girl qualities become especially exaggerated by Parker's seeming ease with her eventual decision. Still, Wallach offers much for teen readers to ponder: immortality, the future, how we make peace with the death of loved ones, and the choices we make with the time we have on this earth. HIGH-DEMAND BACKSTORY: Wallach's debut soared to the New York Times best-seller list, and anticipation is high for his follow-up.--Barnes, Jennifer Copyright 2015 Booklist
New York Review of Books Review
The cover of Wallach's second novel (after the best-selling "We All Looked Up") looks like a still from a lost Wes Anderson movie: A wary teenage boy stares at a beatific, tinsel-haired woman of indeterminate age in the lobby of a once-grand hotel. It nails what's most endearing about "Thanks for the Trouble": its tacit plea for connection and its affection for all the wounded eccentrics. Parker Santé hasn't spoken in years, since witnessing his father's horrific death. Zelda Toth looks not much older than Parker, but claims to have been born in Germany in 1770. They meet at a San Francisco hotel when he makes off with the cash in her handbag, only to find he's left his journal behind. Zelda, existentially weary after so many lifetimes, plans to jump off the Golden Gate Bridge. She proposes a blowout weekend: She'll live it up for the last time, Parker for the first. Parker can be off-putting - immature and casually profane one moment, insightful beyond his years the next. (It's easier to believe that Zelda is 246 than that a teenager could have composed some of the fable-like stories he writes in his journal, which are included as interstitial chapters.) But Zelda's a sparkling creation, as mysterious as a mermaid. Even Parker's classmates are drawn to her: "I could see they were seeing me in a different light now; I felt like a pitted little moon that had just been discovered orbiting a supernova." It's a pleasure to watch Zelda flirt, fling money and coax Parker out of what, emotionally speaking, is less a shell than a bunker. At its best, the novel carries a worthy message: No life is without pain - or promise.
School Library Journal Review
Gr 9 Up-After his father tragically died before his eyes five years prior, Parker Santé was left mute. Angry and a bit lost, he spends most of his days alone. He frequently ditches school to hang out in random hotels where he writes in his journal and steals from unsuspecting hotel guests. On one of these typical days, he notices a beautiful girl with striking silver hair. She catches his eye when revealing a large amount of money in an extravagant display of gratuitous tipping. Parker decides to steal her large wad of cash and accidentally leaves his journal behind-with a story about her written inside. When he reunites with her to get his journal, he discovers Zelda Toth is more than she appears. She claims to be over 200 years old but does not age. Wallach artfully crafts a novel that raises questions about mortality, the scarring impact of loss, and what it truly means to live and love. VERDICT A unique and compelling tale. The narrator's hilariously crass but poignant voice is sure to intrigue even the most reluctant of readers.-Ellen Fitzgerald, White Oak Library District, Lockport, IL © Copyright 2016. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Kirkus Review
A high school senior who hasn't spoken in five years meets a mysterious girl who claims to be a lot older than possible. Silent Parker Sant loves fancy hotels, because they're beautiful and filled with rich people whose stuff he can swipe. While hanging out at San Francisco's Palace Hotel on Halloween, he's transfixed by a lovely, silver-haired girl who looks around his age. He steals her cash, but circumstances lead to him properly introducing himself to the girl, Zelda Toth. They swap some personal information, he writing and she talking: he's been mute since his father died in a car accident, and he writes short stories in spiral-bound notebooks; she plans to spend her last five grand and then jump off the Golden Gate Bridge. Thus begins a whirlwind couple of days filled with unexpected firsts for Parker and possible lasts for Zelda. In a lesser writer's hands, Zelda (who claims to be nearly 250 years old) would have devolved into the ultimate manic pixie dream girl, but Wallach explores her journey with enough depth that her role isn't just to act as Parker's guide. The author of We All Looked Up (2015) manages to bypass the sophomore slump with this fascinating and romantic tale that's less about whether Zelda's really forever 18 and more about the power of sharing stories. An absorbing coming-of-age narrative about the power of connection. (Fiction. 14 up) Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
Excerpts
Excerpts
Thanks for the Trouble THIRD PERSON FAIL THE BOY SAT ON A bench in the lobby of the Palace Hotel. It was about eight thirty in the morning, and he was supposed to be at school. But the boy had always thought it was a load of BS that you were expected to go to school on Halloween, so he'd decided not to. Maybe he'd go later. Maybe not. At this stage, it didn't really make much of a difference either way. The boy noticed he was drawing more attention than he usually did. He'd been to the Palace plenty of times before, but this was the first time he'd shown up on a weekday, and the place wasn't busy enough for someone like him to go unremarked. He was dressed in dirty jeans and an old black T-shirt, and his hair was long and probably a mess (full disclosure: he hadn't looked in the mirror before leaving the house that morning). Also, he was Latino, which made him one of the very few Latino people in the building who wasn't there to bring room service to or clean up the dishes of or mop up the floors for old, rich, white people. To put it bluntly, he looked like he'd come there with some sort of criminal intention, which was racist and judgmental and totally non-PC. It was also true. That's not to say that the boy looked like a thug. He was just your average teenager. Or a little above average, actually. Like, you'd probably think he was cute, if you had to weigh in one way or the other. Or not cute, maybe, but not not cute either. Just, like, your normal level of cuteness. A solid seven out of ten. Maybe a B/B+ on a good day, in the right light, taking the most forgiving possible position on his too-thick eyebrows and his weirdly prominent dimples when he smiled and his slight butt chin . . . Fuck me. This is turning into a disaster, isn't it? I thought it would be better to write this in the third person, to give myself a little critical perspective. But it feels pretty messed up to write about whether I'm cute while pretending I'm not the one writing about whether I'm cute. It would be like writing your own recommendation letter or something. Shit. I just noticed I used the F word up there. Oh, and now I've written "shit." I guess I could go back and delete them, but I'd rather not. I mean, do we really have to play this game, where because I'm who I am and you're who you are, we pretend that the word "fuck" doesn't exist, and while we're at it, that the action that underlies the word doesn't exist, and I just puke up a bunch of junk about how some teacher changed my life by teaching me how Shakespeare was actually the world's first rapper, or about the time I was doing community service with a bunch of homeless teenagers dying of cancer or something and felt the deep call of selfless action, or else I pull out all the stops and give you the play-by-play sob story of what happened to my dad, or some other terrible heartbreak of a thing that makes you feel so bummed out you figure, what the hell, we've got quotas after all, and this kid's gotten screwed over enough, so you give me the big old stamp of approval and a fat envelope in the mail come April? I say no. I say let's not play games. You asked me a question--What was the single most important experience of your life?--and I'm going to answer it, even though my answer might be a little longer than five hundred words and might have the F word in it, and even the F action in it, and a whole lot of other stuff I'd have to be crazy to put down on paper and send to you. And then you'll read my answer, and you'll make your decision. Let's start over. Nice to meet you. I'm Parker Santé. I am medium cute, and bad at writing in the third person. Here is how the most important experience of my life began. Excerpted from Thanks for the Trouble by Tommy Wallach, Ali Smith All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.
