“I never had the right clothes, I was lousy at sports, I couldn’t catch on to the slang, and the tuft of hair on the back of my head wouldn’t lie flat. I was always an oddball, a nothing in the eyes of the ruling cliques.” (62)

Picked Up and Put Down

When I found this book in a Little Free Library last Spring, it looked exactly like a gem lost to history. I’d never heard of it or the author before, but I had an inkling it would be worth reading to my kids.

I decided one night several months ago to read it aloud while the kids were doing their chores. I got 3 chapters in and concluded: this book is not for kids.

Sure it’s a Puffin Book. Sure it’s labeled as “Juvenile Fiction” in the front matter. But the further I read, the less comfortable I was with the material for my kids (aged 11 and 13 at the time).

If you’re familiar with my site, you know I’m not a total prude. There are some things I promote on this blog that don’t always get attention from Christian reviewers, though most of my comments do stem from a biblical worldview and outlook as a discerning, Christian parent.

My discomfort with the book started with the recognition that Bill and his siblings grew up not simply in a non-religious home (which is to be expected), but one totally lacking in scruples. Nonconformity was the rule. Deception was encouraged. The kids had complete freedom to do whatever they pleased, and much of what they pleased (at least early on) always seemed to have something to do with bodily functions. It was pervasive and a little perverse.

And so I put the book down several months ago, figuring that if it wasn’t worth reading to my kids, it wasn’t worth reading.

Picked Up Again

I recently picked it up for myself, however, to see if I had judged it too quickly. With this new approach—that is, reading it for myself and not for my kids—I found the book incredibly enjoyable. It might not be suitable for tweens, but come high school and beyond, I think anyone with a penchant for humor, trickery, and friendship would get a real kick out of it.

Overall, the book feels like a legitimate memoir, a collection of events that really happened exactly as described. Yet in his final chapter, Sleator admits that most stories were exaggerated, as he played God with his memories and recreated them as he pleased. He did well with this approach, and, fiction or no, it turned out to be an incredibly delightful read.

Sleator describes his home-life and friendships with other “oddballs” and non-conformists in what I can only assume must have been the late 1960s or early ’70s. Their adventures aren’t totally innocent, but they and their nonconformist pals all seem so familiar, like that homeschool co-op that enjoys running barefoot through leach-infested streams and larping through the town square.

Some Favorite Sections

I particularly enjoyed fifth chapter called  “The Séance,” where we first meet Nicole. I was completely nonplussed by the stories of Dad in the ninth chapter, “Dad’s Cool,” but the seventh chapter called “Leah’s Stories” was the most dramatic, touching, and sad of them all.

It was “Leah’s Stories” more than the rest of the book that made me realize the cause of both my hesitation and the appeal of this book. Juveniles might enjoy certain parts of this book, but they could never appreciate it. It’s a collection of memories (embellished or not) that can really only be appreciated by those who have lived life past high school, who have known people like Leah or Nicole, and who have watched their friends grow up and out of whatever they once had been.

I never expected this book to draw from me any moments of sentimentality, but it did. Names I hadn’t thought of in ages and faces I hadn’t seen in years popped into my mind. Then came the questions: “What ever happened to Mike and Stu?” and “How well might a collection of my memories from high school in the ’90s be received, enhanced with a touch of creative flare?” In fact, I haven’t thought this way since reading The Odd 1s Out (2018) by James Rallison. Perhaps I really was an oddball back then—and perhaps there really is a market for such things!

Conclusion

This book was honestly a tough one. It grossed me out, made me flinch, and made me quit once part-way through—yet it also engaged me, taught me, and took me back to a memories I hadn’t visited in ages. It contains a few curse words, but I think anyone senior-high and older who’s a little odd themselves might get a kick out of this collection of nonconformity. If that describes you too, then this one might be worth looking up.

©2025 E.T.