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Summary
Summary
After a hate crime occurs in his small Texas town, Adrian Piper must discover his own power, decide how to use it, and know where to draw the line in this stunning debut novel exquisitely illustrated by the author.
Adrian Piper is used to blending into the background. He may be a talented artist, a sci-fi geek, and gay, but at his Texas high school those traits would only bring him the worst kind of attention. In fact, the only place he feels free to express himself is at his drawing table, crafting a secret world through his own Renaissance-art-inspired superhero, Graphite. But in real life, when a shocking hate crime flips his world upside down, Adrian must decide what kind of person he wants to be. Maybe it's time to not be so invisible after all--no matter how dangerous the risk.
Author Notes
Laurent Linn's love for puppets led him to become an Emmy Award-winning puppet designer and builder in Jim Henson's Muppet Workshop, creating characters for various productions, including the Muppet Christmas Carol and Muppet Treasure Island films, eventually becoming creative director for the Sesame Street Muppets. Originally from Dallas, Texas, his love for art led him to New York City where he is currently an art director/designer for children's and teen books. And his love for transformative stories (and superheroes) led him to write and illustrate Draw the Line , his first novel. Visit him at LaurentLinn.com and on Twitter/Instagram at @LaurentLinn.
Reviews (6)
Publisher's Weekly Review
In this thoughtful drama, a gay teen navigates the treacherous social landscape of his small-town Texas high school, confronting homophobia and his own reluctance to publicly embrace his identity. Adrian Piper lives for his art, especially his "secret superhero creation," Graphite, a Renaissance-art-inspired, outwardly gay character who has romanticized adventures with stylized versions of Adrian's best friends. In the real world, Adrian just wants to make it to graduation. After he stands up to bullies assaulting another gay student, Adrian discovers that he's no longer content to slip under the radar. As he attempts to fight injustice through art and quiet action, he finds his inner strength and realizes that things aren't as simple as they seem. Linn, an art director at Simon & Schuster, makes a powerful debut with this empathic page-turner, for which he also supplies dramatic pencil illustrations that believably represent Adrian's Graphite comics. A diverse cast and an emotionally rich plot make this a gripping journey of self-discovery, romance, art making, and justice. Ages 12-up. Agent: Brenda Bowen, Sanford J. Greenburger Associates. (May) © Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved.
Horn Book Review
Adrians junior year in high school is not going well. A self-loathing closeted teen stuck in small-town Texas, hes surrounded by "Bubbas" whose primary values are football and beer. Although he finds solace in his friends -- goth-lite Trent and smart, stylish "plus-size black girl" Audrey -- Adrians only true reprieve from the world of Bubbas is when he draws his anonymously published webcomic about an openly gay superhero, Graphite. (Episodes of the comic, illustrated by Linn, are interspersed throughout.) When the only out kid in school is brutally beaten by a bully, Adrian uncharacteristically attempts to intervene. In doing so, he accidentally semi-outs himself by association, making his life simultaneously much worse (he is now under constant threat from bullies) and much better (he gains a hot boyfriend). Adrian uses Graphite to process the events in his life, and his webcomic becomes increasingly autobiographical, spurring on a final showdown between Adrian and another bully at the Halloween Hoedown -- with Adrian dressed up as Graphite. Despite Adrians bitter and sardonic narration, this is a story of love triumphing over hate and art defeating bigotry. Like Becky Albertallis Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda and Tim Federles The Great American Whatever (rev. 3/16), this book compellingly explores the thrills of first relationships and the complexities of life as a not-quite-out gay teen. kazia berkley-cramer (c) Copyright 2016. The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Booklist Review
*Starred Review* What to know about Adrian? Well, he is 16; he is gay, though only his two best friends know it; he is diffident and welcomes his ability to fade into the background; and he is the creator of Graphite, a gay superhero whose illustrated adventures he posts on an anonymous website and which are integrated into the novel's text to dramatically good effect. Meanwhile, Adrian is busy with adventures of his own, beginning the night he observes an openly gay boy being attacked by the star of the football team and attempts a rescue. Suddenly Adrian is plucked from obscurity, becoming a potential target of the bully himself. Since, like Graphite, Adrian is about creating, not killing, he draws the incident and posts it on his website. But is that enough to bring the bully to justice? At the same time, our hero discovers a secret about Lev, the gorgeous boy who sits behind him in French class. Despite a slow start and some early problems with motivation, Linn's compelling story doesn't let go of the reader. While it's ingeniously plotted, its best aspect is its characterization, especially its multidimensional treatment of Adrian and his friends; they come alive and drive the narrative to its satisfying conclusion. Readers will be both impressed and delighted.--Cart, Michael Copyright 2016 Booklist
New York Review of Books Review
A CLASSIC NERD CONUNDRUM: If Offered the power of invisibility or of flight, which would you choose? Adrian Piper, the protagonist of Laurent Linn's debut novel, "Draw the Line," has firmly chosen invisibility. He is gay, but out only to his two best friends. He wears gray, and literally and metaphorically keeps his head down at his repressive Texas high school, where bullying jocks roam the halls and the word "faggot" is tossed around freely. Even Graphite, a superhero alter ego Adrian has created and shares anonymously online with a tiny following, lives a quiet life, reading books and longing for love in a lonely, if spectacular, moon palace. But when Kobe Saito, an openly gay student, is brutally attacked, both Adrian and Graphite are reluctantly called to action. At over 500 illustrated pages, "Draw the Line" physically embodies Adrian's burgeoning visibility. This is no slender novel to be discreetly passed from friend to friend or librarian to reader. It is a coming-out story, a coming-of-age story and a romance that giddily embraces elements of wish fulfillment familiar to readers of young adult romances, but that protagonists of "issue" books rarely get to enjoy. Each day at school, Adrian runs a gantlet of threats and intimidation, weighted by anxiety and the books he carries to avoid his locker, where he risks ambush. But Adrian is equally at war with himself. Before Kobe's assault, Adrian says dismissively, "Not only is he the sole out gay kid I know of, but he's also so cliché gay it's no wonder there's a huge freakin' target on his back." Adrian's fear and the ugly judgments he has internalized serve as uncomfortable reminders that in an era of increasing tolerance, being yourself can still get you killed. In such an environment, Adrian's transformation into a hero we can root for is convincingly gradual, marked by welcome humor, flashes of slapstick and prayers to Obi-Wan - the only deity Adrian trusts in a town where he is frequently reminded that "God hates fags." He begins to embrace the idea of using his art for protest, risking exposure both as a gay teenager and as an artist in a world prone to snarky critique. It can be hard to parse the rules of Linn's cloistered Texas "jockocracy." Adrian shares space with a diverse cast of characters: his crush, Lev Cohen; the wrestling star Manuel Calderón; the drama kid Kobe Saito. But if there is tension between them and the ruling class of violently homophobic, tobacco-chewing Bubbas, we never see it. If Kobe has experienced persecution for being Japanese as well as gay, we don't hear of it, and aside from a passing reference to "driving while black," race never seems to be an issue in need of attention. Implausibly, Adrian claims that though his friend Audrey was picked on in elementary school for being black, "she'd always go to the teachers and they'd take care of it." Beyond that, cultural and racial biases go missing, and that feels like a missed opportunity in a story about marginalization and visibility. But in its powerful visual components, "Draw the Line" pushes Adrian's story into bold new territory. The art - images from Graphite's adventures, discarded sketches - is appropriately inconsistent. It is the work of a maturing talent, occasionally awkward but showing flashes of thrilling brilliance (the final page is particularly beautiful). When Adrian experiences his first romantic relationship, we don't just read about two boys falling in love. We see it rendered on a full page - two male bodies, costumed and entwined, mid-flight. It is sweeping, grand, unabashedly romantic and, in its effusive intensity, not entirely comfortable. It is first love, experienced and displayed without irony or emotional armor. It's a moment fit for a hero, and like Adrian's journey, it is epic. LEIGH BARDUGO is the author of the Grisha trilogy and, most recently, "Six of Crows."
School Library Journal Review
Gr 9 Up-Gay, geeky, artistic: all traits that Adrian feels he has to hide to make it through the day in his Texas high school. His sanctuary is his graphic novel, published anonymously online, which he hasn't even shared fully with his closest friends. When he steps up to aid a boy who can't help but attract the kind of attention Adrian is trying so hard to avoid, all his secrets start coming out. Enlivened with expressive art, this debut novel beautifully captures the voice of a teen walking the line of being out to his friends but not anyone else. Adrian is intensely likable, and the exploration of the "gay but not that kind of gay" place many people inhabit respects the reasoning and punctures the internalized homophobia in naturalistic, nonpreachy ways. The swoony romance is a delightful lightener of the story. There is also a nuanced dive into the complexities of being honest online. How Adrian speaks his truth affects the people he depicts, a consideration that we all must make in the confessional digital age. Unfortunately, while Adrian and his white male classmates are quite richly drawn (even the bullies), his friend Audrey is painted in broad sassy-black-sidekick strokes. VERDICT A welcome addition to collections depicting LGBTQ youth, but not an essential text.-L. Lee -Butler, Hart Middle School, Washington, DC © Copyright 2016. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Kirkus Review
At the risk of revealing his closeted sexuality and artistic talent, a Texas wallflower combats small minds. Adrian Piper dresses to hide. Innocuous palette, faded jeans, a hoodie: disappearing = safety at Rock Hollow High, where Bubbas with a penchant for pickups and longnecks are the dominant species. Adrian's escape from aggressive heteronormativity is "the feel of a 3B pencil skimming across the paper's surface." The result of said skimming: a gay superhero named Graphite with a flair for Renaissance couture and a longing for love. (Adrian's artwork as drawn by Linn peppers the pages.) Outside of artwork, Adrian finds comfort in two close friends, outspoken Audrey and goth Trent (both know Adrian's secrets). When outwardly gay and not-so-invisible Kobe is brutally attacked by a brutish football star, Adrian risks exposing his own identity to intervene. Identifying as LGBTQ can force accelerated maturity: allegiances shift, social repercussions abound, and the hopeful search for others like you begins. All of these waves of evolution are braved as Adrian morphs from timid shadow to burgeoning Norma Rae. A diverse landscape (white, black, Protestant, Jewish, plus-size, skinny, middle class, wealthy) is robust rather than a flat reaction to pleads for diversity. A definite draw for comic-book fans, it will resonate with anyone struggling with a concealed or revealed identity. More defiant than its superhero's diaphanous costume portends. Bravo. (Fiction. 12-18) Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
Excerpts
Excerpts
Draw the Line I SHOULD HAVE BEEN BORN with an owner's manual. You know the WARNING page at the beginning that mentions all the dangers? This morning I've got a new one to add to the growing list that would come with mine: Don't let nerd boy cut his own hair. I could add: at 3 freakin' a.m. on a school night, but really, any time would have been a bad idea. They say that everything always looks better in the morning. Well, they lie. As I blink through this 7:something a.m. sunlight blaring through my bathroom window, all I see in the mirror is irreparable damage and, over on my drawing table, the art inspiration for my hair massacre. When it's late at night and the world finally leaves me alone, I shut my bedroom door, settle down, and draw. People talk about how when they smoke pot or take some other crap or whatever, they go somewhere else in their head. Well, the feel of a 3B pencil skimming across the paper's surface, trying to control that tiny resistance to the graphite leaving its mark, lifts me up . . . to a world I create. That's my zone. I completely escape. So there I was last night with my best pencils and inking pens all lined up, an epic video game soundtrack in my headphones, plenty of Dr Pepper at the ready, and my calico cat, Harley Quinn, asleep under my drawing table lamp. She was kinda curled up right smack in the way, but that's okay. We understand each other. I started sketching and, after a couple hours, was speeding along on drawing a new comic panel of my secret superhero creation: Graphite. I set up a website for him a couple years ago, which has a nice little following out there. But it's anonymous. Just two people on earth know the site's mine, and my only two friends would never tell a soul. Crafting the details of my world takes time, so I don't update the site very often. But when I do finish a comic sequence it's cause for whoopin' it up or, it seems, grabbing the nearest scissors. I was so loving how I'd drawn Graphite's hair to flip up in such a perfect way that, in my caffeinated, sugared-up, sleep-deprived stupor, I lost it. Possessed by this delusional superhero side of me, I just knew I could re-create that hair on myself . . . with craft scissors. Actually, with slightly-rusted-and-gummed-up-with-bits-of-tape craft scissors (even though my good pair was just a drawer away). Starting with my bangs, I was soon snipping along, moving around the sides. I may be a good artist, but hair is a tricky material, especially when one is being an idiot. It went scary wrong. So in my continued brilliance I set out to "fix" what I'd already done by tiptoeing around and searching for Dad's electric hair buzzer. I found it. My repair job didn't quite work out how I'd hoped. So basically, in the middle of the night I became a toddler. And here I am now, applying globs of hair goop from every container I have and that I could sneak out of Mom's bathroom after she left for work. But all this stuff only darkens my copper-brown hair more, making the missing chunks scream out. I need hair cement, but I got nothin'! What's thick and sticky . . . maybe toothpaste? Stupid, I know, but I'm desperate. Hey, yeah, it kinda works. Oh, god, no it doesn't. It just adds glittery blue sparkles. CRAP! From my bed, C-3PO's muffled voice moans, "We're doomed!" Digging through the sheets, I find my phone. Text from Audrey: Hey boy, just seeing ur text from . . . 3AM!?! U = certifiable. WTF!?!?! Howz the new do? I roll my shoulders, which pop, then type: I'm very talented. Wait till u see in person. Audrey: Lordy. I'm scared. Those selfies u sent would wake the dead - which you look like. Me: YOU'RE scared?! Audrey: What were u thinking, Adrian? You're 16, not 6. Shoulda consulted with me first. You need a fashion chaperone. Me: If u say so Audrey: Chill. Maybe not so bad in person? & after all, you're the superhero, Graphite Boy. Yeah, right. I type: See you before first period? Audrey: If i can apply my face in time! Me: ok Well, what did I expect from her? She's never even had one strand of hair out of place, much less sculpted a topographical map on her own head. How'd it get to be almost time to go? I've gotta hurry. Dammit, I'm better than this! I'm so careful about blending into the background--how'd I slip up like this? I dump my whole shirt drawer on the bed and apply what I know about color psychology. Blue is true, white is pure, red is angry or sexy. Purple is regal and commanding. Maybe I still have that purple T-shirt? Here it is. . . . Oh, yeah. With Super Grover crashing into a streetlamp printed on it. Not so commanding. I toss it to the floor. The mound-o-shirts moves and a pair of jade eyes peers at me from between the folds. "Comfy?" I say. Harley Quinn blinks at me. That's it: camouflage. I don't mean the army kind, too aggressive. I need the animal kind that blends into its surroundings to avoid predators. The school lockers are taxi yellow, the hallway tile is navy blue, the cafeteria is eggshell white, so, what . . . plaid? This is insane. I go for my usual smoky gray, psychologically meaning death, depression, and nothingness. To a gray T-shirt, I add faded jeans, cheap old sneakers, and a gray hoodie . . . my almost-perfect cloak of high school invisibility. Like any good freak superhero wannabe, I'm an expert at fading into the background. However, I'm neither super nor hero. Just freak. My drawing table is piled up like a crime scene, so I shove everything into my mess-of-a-desk. Oh, god, not this? In the bottom drawer I uncover the piece I entered in that Freshman Art Show two years ago. It was my best work way back then. I called it Renaissance Hero. I worked so freakin' hard on it, but it didn't win anything. Instead, some a-hole vandalized it, scrawling across it what other kids always thought of my art. I never showed anything at school again. In fact, that was the last time I signed my name on my art. And now I'm about to waltz into school with my latest masterpiece . . . attached to the top of my head. I put my old, defaced drawing back, cover it up with stuff, and shut the desk drawer. Then I tuck away last night's Graphite drawing between pages sixty-six and sixty-seven of Michelangelo at the Louvre. My parents wouldn't think to look at my art books. Not that they'd even bother to come in here, but you never know. Why did I hang this Power to the Geek poster so high on the back of my bedroom door? Whenever I leave, Geek stares me right in the face. Like I need reminding. I replace Mom's hair goop, and then up goes my hood and I hustle down the hall, past the gallery of old framed photos of little-kid me. My stomach still gets queasy seeing the one of me squealing with Mom and Dad, taken as we plummeted down the big drop of that massive Six Flags roller coaster. Back then--when Dad used to be Dad and, well, we did things--we actually took family pictures. I stop and try to straighten the photo frame, but it just wants to hang crooked. So I dash to the front door, grab the knob, and yell, "Bye, Dad." "Yup." Dad twists in his recliner to glance at me from the living room, giving me his half-assed wave. I step outside and shut the door. Here we go. It may be October, but in Rock Hollow, this hometown slice-o-heaven, it's still hot, and this hoodie over my head doesn't help. Even though it's a quick walk to school, I slip my backpack off my shoulders and carry it to avoid a lovely bag-shaped sweat stain. In picturesque places I've never been to, a few leaves on the ground at the beginning of fall probably mean a gorgeous, colorful autumn is on the way. But here, the horrific Texas summer drought has pretty much killed everything, so the dead leaves are just dead leaves, all starting to texture the front yards of sickly pea-green grass. One last corner to turn and . . . this is it. Glorious Rock Hollow High. Excerpted from Draw the Line by Laurent Linn 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.