Simon Sort of Says: (Newbery Honor Book)

by Erin Bow

“That squirrel is now thirty percent Jesus by volume,” says Mom. “It’s our new god.”

Dad picks Denver, and he’s totally fine, but he’s going to be away for three days. “Just like Jesus,” Mom says. I can hear the phone say, “Isobel!”

“When dog books get a sticker, it’s because something awful happens to the dog.”

Now, these days, if you don’t want to get married you just do your thing, no big deal. But when the Romans were still in charge, refusing to get married was reason enough for someone to feed you to the lions or chop you up with a sword or something else awful. A surprising number of girls chose option B. It kind of makes you wonder about how bad Roman boys were, to be honest.

Clearly I’m not the brains of the outfit. I’m the snacks and repressed trauma of the outfit.

“Hello Kevin we’re over here,” says Agate, with that missing-commas way she has.

On cue, Pretty Stabby bu-girks like all the bu-girking demons have risen from the pits of hell to turn the rivers to blood and eat bones of the earth.

My mom is in trouble for losing a body. My dad is in trouble for starting a death-metal squirrel cult. Last night me and two friends impersonated an alien civilization using a microwave, a metronome, and an air mattress.

“I’ve told you before, Agate Grace,” says Pearl Van der Zwaan. “Gravity is a cruel mistress.”