Me and Emma FROM THE PUBLISHER
In many ways, Carrie Parker is like any other eight-year-old--playing make-believe, dreading school, dreaming of faraway places. But even her imaginative mind can't shut out the realities of her impoverished North Carolina home or help her protect her younger sister, Emma.
By turns achingly naᄑve and utterly pragmatic, Carrie has been shaped by the loss of her beloved daddy, and mired by a drunken stepfather and emotionally absent mother. Charting an astonishing course of survival for herself and Emma, she hopes to transform their life into one more closely resembling the storybooks she treasures.
But after the sisters' plan to run away from home unravels, their world takes a shocking turn-and one shattering moment ultimately reveals a truth that leaves everyone reeling.
Narrated with the simplicity and unabashed honesty of a child's perspective, Me & Emmais a vivid portrayal of heartbreaking loss of innocence, an indomitable spirit and incredible courage--a story that will resonate with readers of all ages and experiences.
Former print journalist Elizabeth Flock reported for Time and People magazines before becoming an on-air correspondent for CBS. Her acclaimed debut novel, But Inside I'm Screaming, chronicling the inner struggle of a young reporter, was released in 2003. Elizabeth lives with her husband and two stepdaughters in Chicago.
FROM THE CRITICS
Publishers Weekly
"I got handed lemons, too, y'know-but I learned how to make lemonade with them.... No one ever told me I had to add sugar but that's life for you. It ain't sweet." That's the jumbled and unforgiving logic that drives Flock's (But Inside I'm Screaming) second novel, a punishing Southern family drama that tries to achieve To Kill a Mockingbird-grade poignancy by heaping tribulations on its child narrator. The novel starts off sweetly, with the smalltown antics of Carrie, a scrappy Scout-like eight-year-old who's always accompanied by her younger sister Emma. Carrie dreamily darts back and forth between her rough-and-tumble present (abusive stepfather, unloving mother) and the happy memories of her dead father, creating a bittersweet picture of her life in Toast, N.C., spiked with colorful Southern language and some feisty supporting characters. But journalist Flock soon loses control of her meandering story and this Southern slice-of-life disintegrates into narrative chaos. The action moves "slow as a crippled turtle," as Carrie's Momma would say, and down-home charm fails to camouflage the creaky, roundabout chronology. After nearly 300 pages of rambling drama, the twist at the end is revealed so haphazardly that it will probably bewilder readers more than surprise them. Sugarcoated it ain't, but instead of delivering profundity, Flock's tough love turns poor forsaken Carrie into a caricature. Agent, Laura Dail. (Mar.) Copyright 2005 Reed Business Information.
Kirkus Reviews
A credible and appealing eight-year-old narrates the story of her family's hardscrabble life. Carrie Parker lives in Toast, North Carolina, with her mother, her abusive stepfather, Richard, and her younger sister, Emma. Carrie's narrative has a clear-eyed, unsentimental tone: "The first time Richard hit me I saw stars in front of my eyes just like they do in cartoons." She learns to stay away from home and to stay out of the way after Richard has been drinking. She and Emma even have his temper calibrated. After his tenth beer he tends to explode, so after the eighth, the two sisters begin a slow retreat to the only safe place in the house, a spot they call "behind-the-couch." Their mother puts up with Richard's beatings-she needs the economic support-and urges the girls to behave. When Richard orders Carrie into his bedroom, Emma takes her place, pushing Carrie out and shutting the door. Afterward, Carrie thinks Emma has taken the whipping meant for her, but it's clear to the adult reader that Emma has been sexually abused. Despite the brutality of her family life, Carrie finds enjoyment in the woods, in her friends and teachers, and in memories of her dead father, who doted on her. Gradual moves down the economic scale-to another town, another job, another rundown shack-put even more pressure on the family. In desperation, Carrie writes a letter inviting her grandmother to visit. But even that fails. When it seems no one is willing to protect these children, an elderly neighbor takes an interest in Carrie. He notes the cuts and bruises inflicted by Richard and teaches her to shoot a rifle. "You got to learn how to defend yourself since no one else's doing it for you," he tells her.Second-novelist Flock (But Inside I'm Screaming, 2003) captures Carrie's powerlessness and resourcefulness beautifully. The child is so believable, in fact, that the final twist, which brings into question all of Carrie's perceptions, just doesn't work. Flawed, then, but tremendously touching. Author tour