Lindsey Leavitt

Sean Griswold’s Head by Lindsey Leavitt

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(Picture stolen from Lindsey Leavitt’s website.)

I hadn’t heard of Lindsey Leavitt two months ago; I read Sean Griswold’s Head and rapidly inhaled all the other books she’s written (of which there are two, and of which I may post another review in the coming weeks) within a two week period–and that was only because I had to wait for one on the hold list in the library.

Sean Griswold’s Head is Young Adult Literature at its finest. Payton, the narrator, has a wonderful voice. It’s distinct, it’s believable, and it’s real. Her reactions and her growth in the book are spot on.

In the book, Payton discovers–in a not-so-great-way–that her beloved father has MS. It’s not only Payton’s journey into looking deeper at the relationships she has, but her ultimate acceptance of what she can and can not do about things that happen in her life.

I am purposely vague when writing reviews because I hate reading reviews where the story gets spoiled, SPOILER ALERTS notwithstanding. But I feel like I can say a few of the things that I loved about this book:

  • There are no mean girls. When I was in high school, there wasn’t a clique of popular, mean girls who tried to spoil everything for everybody else. Our cheerleaders were not only nice, they were super nice. Instead of having a stock mean girl character, Ms. Leavitt pulls some other interesting characters out of her head that make the story that much more believable.
  • There is a brother her best friend tries to flirt with. Having five brothers of my own, I know that this does indeed happen–but generally only with newer friends, since the friends that knew my brothers in junior high weren’t all that impressed with them later.
  • There aren’t mean girls, but there is a fight with her best friend. And she has to agonize over the resolution. I like it.
  • A mangled cat toy given as a gift. Need I say more?
  • And then, there’s Sean’s head. And Sean. Ahh. Seriously, you need to read this book.

Wait, did you read that last sentence? Seriously, you need to read this book. You can thank me later.