While I’ve seen Gordon Korman books galore in thrift stores across America, the only experience I’ve had with the author prior to The Fort (2022) has been his involvement with The 39 Clues, namely The Emperor’s Code (2010) and The Medusa Plot (2011). Because those books are for a much younger audience, I wasn’t quite prepared for the heavier themes in this book, though I enjoyed it nonetheless.

The kids and I chose this book much like we do others whenever we’re on road trips—we look for anything that’s available on Libby from authors we like and give it a go. This was the only book available at the time, and I’m glad we got it.

The Story in a Nutshell

Following a hurricane, a group of friends discover a fallout shelter in the woods, a place fully equipped with food, electricity, and movies. It becomes the perfect, secret hideout for the guys to enjoy their friendship, but as the story progresses, it also becomes a hideout for so much more.

Each character in the story secretly struggles with issues at home that they’re generally afraid to discuss with everyone. Mitchell struggles with OCD, and it seems to worsen without his therapist—though his story offers the only bit of comic relief, when we discover how he “waters” his doctor’s plants. Jason’s parents are getting a divorce, and Marcus has his own abandonment issues. Ricky (if I recall it correctly) fears his dad’s anger and abuse. But none of the characters have it as bad as CJ, who spends more time in hiding than anyone.

The story comes to head when several characters outside the tight-knit group of 5 boys discover the shelter. Danger looms, and scenes become intense by the end of the book, and we were left it feeling satisfied but still a little antsy.

Hard Topics to Read

These topics of drugs, domestic abuse, and divorce are pretty raw and more in-your-face than we’re used to reading or watching. I’m glad I was able to go through it together with my kids. I felt that Korman handled them carefully, and we truly got to feel some of the pains and fears that his characters suffer yet try to hide from everyone.

This book is especially heavy on the need for friendship, though I don’t think it’s the most-needed message. What young readers need—especially if they’re suffering from similar home-lives as these characters—is an understanding of a way out, of how to break the cycle of addiction, abuse, and divorce.

Good friends are a minor component, sure, but solid role models are key. In a story like this, good parents and happy marriages and non-abusive relationships must be present. Also important is not only the commitment from characters that they’re not going to end up like their deadbeat parents, but also an explanation of how they’re going to be different.

I feel Korman had an opportunity in this book not only to show us the bad, but also give us glimmers of the good. Most families aren’t like this, so I had to wonder, why the over-abundance of drama and pain?

Family and Marriage Representations in Media

I’ve got a long-standing annoyance with how it’s virtually impossible these days to find in entertainment media a single happy marriage (particularly on-screen). I pointed this out recently in my review of Greenwild by Pari Thomson (2024), but it also came up regularly when I was reviewing kindergarten books many years ago. Seemingly every family in pop culture suffers from death, divorce, infidelity, or domestic abuse—or the writers forego it all and make sure most adult characters are single!

The claim of course is either that “this heightens the drama” or “this mirrors reality,” but I don’t believe it. We’ve all heard that “50% of Christian marriages end in divorce,” but it’s not true. Barna discovered that it’s 33-38%, and that the national average is 40%. These numbers are still terrible, but it’s a truth that media intentionally hides from us—for the sake of drama.

I tried using AI to discover any formal studies about marriage representations in modern media, but couldn’t find much.

• One study from 1998 found that divorce was over-represented, compared to national averages at the time.
• Another study from BYU found that 39.8% of family-focused shows between 2004-2013 were led my married couples (though I’m not sure how many of those suffered abuse or infidelity or how many ended in separation or divorce).

There haven’t been any other recent studies, and I’m confident that the statistics of family representation in media are getting worse. If anyone’s looking for a much-needed research project, this is one! And you could also add the over-prevalence of homosexual and transgender characters in media—and how they’re almost never “the bad guys.” Again, see Greenwild for that rabbit trail.

Conclusion

A large part of my childhood included building forts with my friends in our garages. I loved the book Some Summer by Jean Vanderbenne (1987) because of this, and I also wish that my own kids had the same opportunity right now—not only to have tangible friends but also the option for a treehouse or clubhouse or some secret place to build a fort. Our situation doesn’t allow it, though, so my kids are “stuck” at home with us.

For whatever reason, it seems our modern, brain-washing media would like my kids to believe they’re strange because they have happily-married, non-abusive, infidelity- and drug-free parents. Their lives lack the same types of drama they see on TV or read about books, so they must be freaks—like crazy religious fanatics or homeschool weirdos.

I enjoyed this book, but it sort of re-opened this old sore spot for me. Gordon Korman’s obviously a great writer, and we could feel tension throughout the story. I’m not shying away from him as an author, though I might have to peruse story themes before blindly diving into whichever of his books we stumble upon next.

©2025 E.T.

Read More from Gordon Korman:

• The Emperor’s Code (201)
• The Medusa Plot (2011)
• The Fort (2022)