Katrin VanDam

Spoilers ahead. I finished this book two days ago, the long-awaited conclusion to a book that was painfully out-of-touch. Originally, I wrote two very nasty reviews for the book, but decided against posting them once I'd rested and taken a break by reading a book that was actually good. I removed the bitterness and swearing from the other reviews in large part, tried to rearrange key points so it's a little more coherent, and I present the following composite of the two drafts, cleaned up, as my review.

The book flap made a big deal about how Come November was about a teenager who takes care of her unrealistically-written nine-year-old brother because their dad isn't part of the picture and their mom is part of a doomsday alien cult. The book's description does match its contents, but--ugh, this is a hard review to write, even three drafts in. By page thirty, without skipping around, I knew the doomsday thing wouldn't happen and the dad would show up again. Sometimes, for no reason, I can predict books well. And I also knew what the real-life counterpart to the alien doomsday cult was--I've been attending weekly meetings, multiple times a week, for nine years and I know references when I see them. I'm no longer attending, and the subtle references in this book gave me chills. Toward the end of my attendance, the meetings were indeed hitting an uncomfortable amount of "this is a cult!" checkpoints. Not every meeting does, and it's an organization that can help. I try not to make assumptions about authors and their lives by what they write (and need to improve on doing so), but this is so clearly coded that I feel the need to spend a good chunk of my review on it. To clarify: that's not at all why it got a one-star review from me, but my reasons -are- threaded with me pointing out the coding of the real-life counterpart. Heads up: there were originally dozens of run-on sentences with semi-colons and three with colons. I split them up while typing this up, so it might be clunky.

This novel, if the reader doesn't know about the real-life counterpart, looks like an oddly-paced character study where no one acts their age and Big Lipped Alligator Moments (credit to Nostalgic Woman for the term) reign. Meditation is portrayed as evil, characters insist they're super-close despite no evidence, they move in with one another in ways that bypass most housing laws and face no consequences. The last forty-five pages are dedicated exclusively to the mom's backstory plus redemption, as well as Rooney's happy ending. Her dad, absent most of her life, saves the day. If you are familiar with twelve-step groups and the controversies surrounding them, you could probably have predicted this all by page thirty. If the author did this unintentionally, that's even creepier to levels I'll scramble away from. I'll explain my thought process, but shall recommend books first. If you want novels that don't demonize and infantilize alcoholic parents but portray them and the effects of neglect realistically, "Define Normal" by Julie Ann Peters does a good job. The mom isn't in AA, though. "When" by Victoria Laurie features a teen who works to pay the bills since her mom's an unemployed alcoholic, and she works by telling people about the death dates on their foreheads. She is an only child, but still a really good portrayal. If you want teen pseudo-Christian cult-themed apocalypse fiction, I remember really liking "Armageddon Summer" by Bruce Colville and Jane Yolen when it first came out. None of those books are this book, though.

This is a really long wish fulfillment novel where a girl's dad comes back into her life to be a great parent to her and her brother because she can't do it anymore. The mom is a willfully ignorant airhead with an eating disorder whose behavior I'm familiar with, and hint: not an alien doomsday cult member. All her characterization comes right at the end, after a month in rehab, which the book just calls the hospital. What the mom is doing when she talks to Rooney, in the recovery world, is called disclosure. It's usually reserved for spouses and is done in a setting similar to couples' counseling, but she does this to her daughter, which is multiple crystallized levels of creepy. Disclosure doesn't involve apologizing, really, as that's a huge, separate process later all on its own, and the--yeah. The mom drains Rooney's college fund and gives it all to the cult leader, which happens in the real-world counterpart, too.

At the end of the book, the mom has her driver's license reinstated. When, why, and how would a cult member lose their license? No reason is given. How did she get it reinstated, when she's been in the hospital for a month for malnutrition? Getting one's license and car back is an incredibly common, realistic, and difficult goal -for an alcoholic parent just out of rehab.- Characters claiming to be close in such little time makes sense for certain substance recovery groups. Getting to move in with one another on short notice is common: it's part of moving into sober housing, which is a real thing with strict rules, and you don't have to have a job at first, which matches several characters' situations.

Now onto stuff that's not related to recovering from addiction, just other problems I had with the book. At the end, the mom laughs when she says she's slower than other drivers on the road. She's probably going to laugh when she gets into a bad accident as a result of this, too. Throughout the book, I wondered why the school hadn't caught onto the obvious neglect, then remembered my own high school experience. Schools definitely overlook stuff for a variety of reasons. Still, there were definitely pieces missing from the story and it strengthened my thought that this was wish fulfillment. I didn't relate to anyone, no one was likeable, and there were several messages the story tried to force me to accept that directly contrasted my own life and experiences. The "romance" with the male best friend was pointless, stupid, hardly written, and looked like wish fulfillment due to how Skylar was portrayed. It was equal parts insta-love, jealousy, lust, and just an odd vibe. Quick note: if you want a book that does "I'm in love with my male best friend and only realized it when he is dating someone new" right, "Say Goodbye to Hollywood" by Jenny Trout is one of the best examples I've seen. Back to this. Why was Skylar, Mercer's love interest, in the book anyway? The love triangle could have easily been cut and nothing would have changed.

Rooney's guidance counselor takes her and her brother in after the mom's cult's predictions fall through, and again, felt like wish fulfillment and missing puzzle pieces. The lone Black woman of the novel, she speaks without using any contractions, is excessively formal, and we don't find out she's Black until midway through the novel, when the younger brother shakes her hand for too long. Dozens of pages later, she reveals she's from Ghana. The author could have just stated that when we first meet her early on in the novel. The author insists over and over again that half-siblings aren't real siblings. She has a real case of "always love your family no matter any neglect or betrayal. Also any neglect is fake haha, and can be solved if the oldest child supports the family financially!" I do not appreciate such views.

Rooney acts like it's the end of the world when she doesn't get into her favorite college ahead of other students, and actually appeals the decision. I read this book the week that the "rich people pay their test takers to get into college" scandal of 2019 broke, so this pile of whining by Rooney made this novel seem extra out-of-touch. Move -on-, you enormous brat. It's a non-issue. They didn't reject you outright. They said not yet, -which you repeatedly state yourself,- yet you go through a whole appeals process? Entitled. And with the levels of neglect in your home, you're telling me you held down great grades and a job enough to support everyone, even as your mom tears through finances? IRL, you'd choose between school and work. With a school like Columbia, you need extracurriculars. A part-time coffee shop job ain't it. You make no mention of having a work permit that enables you as a minor to work full-time. You bristled at the entrance essay topics, where I think if you'd described your life, CPS might get a call and Columbia would understand why you didn't have the requirements.

I'll address the mom again. She reveals she used to be a climate change scientist, but got overwhelmed at climate change's increasing effects. A rift was caused in her marriage, she continues, and she never wanted kids and thinks herself selfish for having two. "Big Lipped Alligator Moment" doesn't even begin to describe this (although "twelve-step disclosure" nicely does). Rooney, who thought something rude when her mom greeted her by telling her she looked nice, and thought poorly of her mom for enjoying working with penguins, took her mom's regret at having and not wanting her and her brother, shockingly well. Rooney spent three hundred pages infantilizing and hating her mom, yet the instant a truth not many people admit to is out, Rooney's all, Oh, I forgive you now. WTF--oh right, this is a dad rescue fantasy. Whatever I wanted out of this book, I didn't get.… (mais)

Literary Merit: Good
Characterization: Good
Recommended: Yes
Level: high school

This story was interesting because it is told from the viewpoint of the child, a senior in high school, Rooney, that has become responsible for the house due to her mothers devotion to a cult. This cult has convinced her mother that all believers will be taken by aliens to a new world in November. Leading up to this big day, the mother gets fired for trying to recruit others to participate in this organization. She reaches out to her nonexistent father for help, where she is told that he has been trying to see her and her brother Daniel. During this time the mother has brainwashed Daniel and he is now all into the November date. All this is happening during Rooney's senior year. She is trying to think of graduation and college, but she is instead thinking of how to put food on the table, convincing her mother the new world idea is crazy and keep her younger brother out of everything.

You couldn't help but feel bad for Rooney and what she was going through with her mom, dad and school. These are hard enough without adding all the other problems. You begin to feel for all the characters. Good story.… (mais)

I really got engaged into this story. Rooney Harris' mother just got fired from a part time job at a day care center. Her divorced mother is all wrapped up in the clenches of a cult and has lost all sense of reality.

Rooney is a senior in high school shouldering the burden for taking care of her mother and much younger brother, Daniel. Rooney has taken on an extra shift at a small grocery in town, Trymg the best that she can, she does not how much longer she can survive, going to school, washing the clothes, doing the housework, taking care of her little brother and mother and the money is running out.

Calling her father was hard for her because she did not know that her mother was shielding him from contacting the kids. Reluctantly, she tells her best friend, Mercer what is going on. Her mother is unreachable, watching the cult website on the Internet constantly. Her mother is in total belief that everything will be fine the day after departure.

I received an advanced reading copy of this book from the Publisher as a win from FirstReads but that in no way made a difference in my thoughts or feelings in this review.… (mais)