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Summary
Summary
Eleven was big. Winnie got a new best friend, and a new worst friend. But twelve is going to be huge. Last year everyone else changed, but now it's Winnie's turn to "develop." Ack! Twelve is going to be a big year for Winnie, she just knows it. After all, she's one step closer to being a teenager, but there's just so much to deal with: pierced ears, sleepaway camp, junior high. . . .Can Winnie handle the pressure? And most important, can she handle bra shopping with Mom--in public?
Author Notes
Lauren Myracle is an American author of YA fiction. She was born on May 15, 1969, in Brevard, North Carolina and grew up in Atlanta, Georgia. She attended the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, where she received her BA in English and Psychology. After graduation, she taught middle-school in Georgia and participated in an exchange and teaching program (JET) in Japan. She would go on to earn an MA in English from Colorado State University and an MFA in Writing for Children and Young Adults from Vermont College.
Since her first novel, Kissing Kate, was published in 2003, Myracle has written numerous books and series including: the Internet Girls series, The Winnie Years, Flower Power, the Life of Ty and the Wishing Series.
(Bowker Author Biography)
Reviews (5)
Publisher's Weekly Review
In the sequel to Lauren Myracle's Eleven (a "lighthearted and well-observed novel," according to PW), Twelve, Winnie experiences many of the hallmarks of adolescenceAincluding junior high, getting her ears pierced, shopping for a bra, dealing with menstruation and a first crush. (Dutton, $15.99 208p ages 10-up ISBN 978-0-525-47784-6; Mar.) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved
Horn Book Review
Winnie, the heroine of Myracle's popular Eleven, is now twelve years old. When not obsessing about her new awareness of human sexuality--breast development, menstruation, and boys' erections--she worries about friends and boys. The novel, which covers twelve months, moves quickly from one embarrassing moment to another. Winnie's self-involvement is age-appropriate, but many of the characters remain stereotypes. (c) Copyright 2010. The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted. All rights reserved.
Booklist Review
I didn't want to be a child, and I didn't want to be a woman, and sometimes I just didn't know how to be in between. Winnie, the hero of Eleven (2004), is sometimes too articulate for a sixth-grader, but girls will welcome the information in her funny, sometimes touching daily drama as she starts junior high in Atlanta and deals with family, friends, and enemies, as well as the puberty rites of buying her first bra and getting her period. Then there is the embarrassment of losing the tampon in the pool, but she gets over it. At school she is hurt by her best friend's rejection, and she is ashamed when she acts as a bully toward someone else. And there is a budding romance. The contemporary voice is casual, funny, and, well, nice. Fans of Judy Blume and of Phyllis Reynolds Naylor's early Alice books will want this. --Hazel Rochman Copyright 2007 Booklist
School Library Journal Review
Gr 5-8-Continuing where Eleven (Dutton, 2004) left off, this book chronicles the year in the life of Winnie Perry following her 12th birthday. The narrator has her fair share of coming-of-age experiences, including shopping for a bra, dealing with changing relationships, discovering boys, and using feminine hygiene products for the first time. During the summer before seventh grade, she temporarily rekindles her friendship with Amanda, her former best friend. They attend sleep-away camp together where Winnie discovers her penchant for telling jokes and how much she likes being the center of attention. Although she enjoys the time with Amanda, she realizes that Dinah-her current best friend-is the one who will truly stick by her. As junior high begins, Winnie deals with feelings of excitement and trepidation, worries about fitting in with the other students, and tries to find the courage to do the right thing when a classmate mistreats a substitute teacher. Winnie's awkward experiences will have readers laughing out loud and cringing at the same time, like at a swimming party, when she loses her tampon in the pool. On occasion, her dialogue and thoughts seem a little too adult for her age, but fans of Eleven and initiates alike will enjoy her sometimes goofy, sometimes touching preteen moments.-Alison Grant, Ruby S. Thomas Elementary School, Las Vegas, NV (c) Copyright 2010. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Kirkus Review
Another year, another set of 'tween concerns about friends and foes, anatomical changes, the opposite sex and mother/sister relationships all recounted by 12-year-old Winnie of the previous Eleven (2004). Sixth grade ends with graduation and a camp-away experience with former best friend Amanda. Seventh grade begins in a new school with anxiety and possibilities. Winnie, who now enjoys a comfortable exclusive friendship with Dinah, learns to juggle the mix of mean-spirited and self-centered behaviors of former and new friends, Amanda and Cinnamon. In the same month-by-month format, Myracle tackles the fickleness of 12-year-old girls through a series of scenarios with a trace of didacticism, yet manages to incorporate some sardonic humor in two embarrassing first-time bra shopping and menstruation developments. Light, quick reading with an authentic perspective. (Fiction. 8-11) Copyright ©Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
Excerpts
Excerpts
THE THING ABOUT BIRTHDAYS, especially if you just that very day turned twelve, is that you should make a point of trying to look good. Because twelve is almost thirteen, and thirteen is a teenager, and teenagers don't strut around with holes in their jeans and ketchup on their shirts. Well. They did if they were my sister, Sandra, who was fifteen-about-to-turn-sixteen. Her birthday comes next month, which meant that for a delightful three-and-a-half-week period beginning today, she was only three years older than me, instead of four. Yes! Sandra made a show of not caring about her appearance, although it was clear she secretly did. She stayed in the bathroom far longer than any human needed to, and I knew she was in there staring and staring and staring at herself in the mirror: putting on eyeliner and then wiping all but the barest trace of it off; dabbing on the tiniest smidge of Sun Kissed Cheek Stain from the Body Shop; making eyes at herself and dreaming about Bo, her boyfriend, who told her he liked her just the way she was--natural. So ha ha, the trick was on Bo, but I've learned from Sandra that boys were often like that: clueless, but not necessarily in a bad way. When I am fifteen, I'll probably have a boyfriend, and I'll probably be just like Sandra. I'll want to look pretty, but not like I'm trying. But today was my birthday, not Sandra's, and I felt like pulling out all the stops. Dressing up usually felt dumb to me--I left that to snooty Gail Grayson and the other sixthgradego-go girls--but I had a tingly special-day feeling inside. Plus, we were leaving in half an hour for my fancy birthday dinner at Benihana's. Bo was going to meet us there, and so was Dinah, my new best friend. Although it still felt weird calling her that. I tugged my lemon yellow ballerina skirt from the clippy things on the hanger and wrapped it around my waist. I threaded one tie through the hole at the side, then swoopedit around and knotted it in place. When Mom bought this skirt for me six months ago, she had to show me how to make it work, and I'd found it impossibly complicated. Not anymore. A full-length mirror hung on the inside of my closet door, and I twirled in front of it and watched the fabric swish around my knees. I had scabs from Rollerblading and a scrape from exploring a sewage pipe, but who cared? I could be beautiful and tough. I refused to buff away the calluses on my feet, too. Mom said a girl's feet should be soft, but I said, "Uh, no." I was proud of my calluses. I'd worked hard for them. Summer was right around the corner, and I wasn't about to wince my way across the hot concrete when I went to the neighborhood pool. Flip-flops were for wimps. For me, it's barefoot all the way. I rifled through my clothes until I found my black tank top. Sleek and sophisticated--yeah. People would think I was from New York instead of Atlanta. But when I wiggled into it, I realized something was wrong. It was tight--as in, really tight. I flexed my shoulder blades forward and then backward, trying to loosen things up. Then forward and backward again. But what I saw in the mirror was bad. With my herky-jerky shoulders, I looked like a chicken. Withbreasts. "Mo-o-om!" I called. "We've got a problem!" Excerpted from Twelve by Lauren Myracle 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.
