Stolen Secrets
Author: L.B. Schulman
Age Range: 12 and up
Grade Level: 7th and up
Hardcover: 304 pages
Publisher: Boyds Mills Press (September 19, 2017)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1629797227
ISBN-13: 978-1629797229
Age Range: 12 and up
Grade Level: 7th and up
Hardcover: 304 pages
Publisher: Boyds Mills Press (September 19, 2017)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1629797227
ISBN-13: 978-1629797229
Book Description:
After an abrupt move across the country to San Francisco, sixteen-year-old Livvy discovers a grandmother who she believed was dead. Suffering from Alzheimer’s, Adelle shouts out startling details, mistakes her own name, and seems to relive moments that may have taken place in a concentration camp. When Livvy and her new friend Franklin D. find journal entries from the Holocaust in Adelle’s home, Livvy begins to suspect that her grandmother may have a shocking link to a notable figure Anne Frank.
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Praise for STOLEN SECRETS
“The author captures the desperate uncertainty of life with an alcoholic and having to parent a parent. Whip-smart Franklin has a uniquely drawn personality and his dialogue with Livvy sparkles…VERDICT An engaging coming-of-age novel recommended for libraries looking to highlight issues of alcoholism, Alzheimer’s, and family estrangement.' ―School Library Journal
“Stolen Secrets is a solid mystery with family drama and teen angst. Livvy is a likable character who is smart and perceptive at times, yet, like most teens, naive and clueless at others. The novel is easy to read and would be a good companion read for students reading Anne Frank’s diary. Stolen Secrets will need some hand-selling to teens, but once they pick it up they will not be disappointed.” ―VOYA
“This is a well-written book that sympathetically examines the roles of Holocaust survivors on both sides of the war as well as guilt and forgiveness. The main and supporting characters are funny and engaging…a good addition to those who want to read more books with a Holocaust theme. Recommended.” ―School Library Connection
“A…contemporary story with a Holocaust secret at its core….a jam-packed narrative with a full complement of tropes and topical elements: new girl; friend issues; alcoholism; family secrets, neo-Nazis; predatory elder care; armed robbery—and a romance. The grandmother’s mysterious past intrigues…” ―Kirkus Reviews
EXCERPT
Instead of three buildings sprawled across generous acreage, like my school back home, Grant High was a cement rectangle five stories high. Stairs led up from each of the corners, with one elevator marked, Handicapped Use Only! and the other, Out of Order. I stared at the maze, trying to figure out which staircase would bring me closest to Algebra 2 on the third floor. Finally I picked the smartest-looking student and trailed behind. As I emerged from the stairwell, some girls were standing next to the water fountain, babbling about party hookups, summer boredom, and the endless amount of vacation homework that a lit teacher had assigned.
God, I missed my friends.
By the time I found Room 24, there was only one seat left. The boy sitting next to me swiveled my way. “Ready or not, here I am,” he said, offering his hand. “Franklin D. Schiller.” He emphasized the middle initial.
Franklin D. was as large as a lineman on a football team, but he looked more like the anti-jock type. The mass of brown curls on his head added inches to his height. I took in his black T-shirt, which read, C8H10N4O2.
“That stands for caffeine,” he said, catching me looking. “The elixir of the gods.”
Candace’s voice popped into my head: For a kid like that, “popular” is nothing more than a sixty-one-point Scrabble word. It was one of her favorite lines.
“Where’s our teacher?” I asked.
“Harrison’s notoriously tardy,” he said. “Hypocrisy, day one. It’s what makes high school great.”
I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to laugh or not, so I checked my schedule for the fifteenth time.
“And you are?” he prodded.
“Livvy Newman,” I said, my mind on Mom again. She couldn’t have had time to print out more resumes. I wondered if the interview had been canceled and she’d been too embarrassed to admit it.
Franklin D. asked some questions about my past. I kept my answers brief, in part to avoid tripping over general cluelessness about why we’d moved here.
Mr. Harrison scurried into the room. He dropped the slab of a textbook onto his desk to wake us up. As he introduced himself, I rehearsed what I planned on saying to Mom when I saw her. In my head, the conversation would end with, “You’re right, Liv. Let’s go back to Vermont.”
I hid my phone in my binder to check my social media. Sean, Candace, and Audrey had updated in the past hour. Standard complaints. Nothing about me. It was like I’d bungee-jumped off the face of the planet.
When Mr. Harrison wasn’t looking, I added a post:
Some nice people showed me around my new school. Love my classes! Of course, it was only first period, but I suspected my East Coast friends wouldn’t connect the dots. I hit Send, convincing myself it was better to be a liar than a loser.
EXCERPT
Instead of three buildings sprawled across generous acreage, like my school back home, Grant High was a cement rectangle five stories high. Stairs led up from each of the corners, with one elevator marked, Handicapped Use Only! and the other, Out of Order. I stared at the maze, trying to figure out which staircase would bring me closest to Algebra 2 on the third floor. Finally I picked the smartest-looking student and trailed behind. As I emerged from the stairwell, some girls were standing next to the water fountain, babbling about party hookups, summer boredom, and the endless amount of vacation homework that a lit teacher had assigned.
God, I missed my friends.
By the time I found Room 24, there was only one seat left. The boy sitting next to me swiveled my way. “Ready or not, here I am,” he said, offering his hand. “Franklin D. Schiller.” He emphasized the middle initial.
Franklin D. was as large as a lineman on a football team, but he looked more like the anti-jock type. The mass of brown curls on his head added inches to his height. I took in his black T-shirt, which read, C8H10N4O2.
“That stands for caffeine,” he said, catching me looking. “The elixir of the gods.”
Candace’s voice popped into my head: For a kid like that, “popular” is nothing more than a sixty-one-point Scrabble word. It was one of her favorite lines.
“Where’s our teacher?” I asked.
“Harrison’s notoriously tardy,” he said. “Hypocrisy, day one. It’s what makes high school great.”
I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to laugh or not, so I checked my schedule for the fifteenth time.
“And you are?” he prodded.
“Livvy Newman,” I said, my mind on Mom again. She couldn’t have had time to print out more resumes. I wondered if the interview had been canceled and she’d been too embarrassed to admit it.
Franklin D. asked some questions about my past. I kept my answers brief, in part to avoid tripping over general cluelessness about why we’d moved here.
Mr. Harrison scurried into the room. He dropped the slab of a textbook onto his desk to wake us up. As he introduced himself, I rehearsed what I planned on saying to Mom when I saw her. In my head, the conversation would end with, “You’re right, Liv. Let’s go back to Vermont.”
I hid my phone in my binder to check my social media. Sean, Candace, and Audrey had updated in the past hour. Standard complaints. Nothing about me. It was like I’d bungee-jumped off the face of the planet.
When Mr. Harrison wasn’t looking, I added a post:
Some nice people showed me around my new school. Love my classes! Of course, it was only first period, but I suspected my East Coast friends wouldn’t connect the dots. I hit Send, convincing myself it was better to be a liar than a loser.
STOLEN SECRETS is L.B. Schulman’s second young adult novel. Her debut, LEAGUE OF STRAYS, was published in 2012. She grew up in Maryland and now lives in the San Francisco Bay Area with her husband, two daughters, and a pair of loveable mutts. When she isn’t writing, she’s visiting genealogy sites, trying to find famous people she’s related to. You can visit her online at LBSchulman.com.
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