About this item
Gracie has never felt like this before. One day, she suddenly can't breathe, can't walk, can't anything - and the reason is standing right there in front of her, all tall and weirdly good-looking: A.J. But it turns out A.J. likes not Gracie but Gracie's beautiful best friend, Sienna. Obviously Gracie is happy for Sienna. Super happy! She helps Sienna compose the best texts, responding to A.J.'s surprisingly funny and appealing texts, just as if she were Sienna. Because Gracie is fine. Always! She's had lots of practice being the sidekick, second-best.It's all good. Well, almost all. She's trying.Funny and tender, Well, That Was Awkward goes deep into the heart of middle school, and finds that even with all the heartbreak, there can be explosions of hope and moments of perfect happiness.
About the Author
I was born on July 25, 1966, in NEW YORK CITY, and grew up in New Rochelle, NY, with my mother, my father, and my younger brother Jon. (And down the street from my future husband, though of course I didn't know that until much later. ) Some details, I do know-I was very into reading and theater, so I read every book I could get my hands on (especially realistic fiction, either contemporary or historical) and took acting workshops and auditioned for every play in school, camp, or the community. I played Peter Pan, Miss Hannigan in Annie, Benny Southstreet in Guys and Dolls, the Scarecrow in The Wizard of Oz, and lots of extremely memorable chorus parts-for instance, I was "girl number two" in Fiddler on the Roof-the one who said "We heard about your sister, Chava". I didn't care -I just wanted to be on stage. Waiting backstage before curtain call, after giving my all in a performance, was the best feeling I knew. In seventh grade I started taking magic lessons, and by eighth grade I was making all my own spending money by performing at kids' birthday parties as a clown named Tallulah. I liked the freedom of wearing all that grease-paint-I could be as wacky and un-cool as I wanted. I tried dance but felt so clumsy. I faked a sprained ankle to get out of the recital. I took voice lessons which made me a little light-headed (and I was afraid of the voice teacher's growling, drooling Doberman) and both saxophone and piano, neither of which I ever practiced. I did well in school but started a lot of my work at the last minute, in a crazy mad dash, so that it was never late but there were usually careless errors or areas I had to fudge. I had this idea that to work hard at something was sort of a negative, an admission that I didn't have natural talent. If I wasn't going to be Mozart and have the music (or dance, or math, or social studies term paper, or whatever) channeled through me from God, then I was just embarrassing myself by all that workmanlike effort. I didn't get over that idea until after college, by the way. I never really planned to be a writer. I planned to be a financial wizard after learning about option-spreading at age 10, then a poet after discovering Shakespeare at 11. After overhearing "the real power is held by the lobbyists" on a class trip to Albany, I planned to become a lobbyist. Secretly, of course I always imagined myself as an actress, but that didn't seem hard or important enough, and also I worried I wasn't naturally gifted enough.My parents were always great. I liked to make them proud, and they trusted me and supported my efforts and interests, which was sometimes weirdly tough. There was so little for me to rebel against.When people ask me what I was as a kid, I always feel like my answer is at best incomplete.What are you like, as a kid? I'm still trying to figure out what I'm like as an adult.Well, things went in waves. Sometim
