As an angsty teen who cared about issues, art and the state of the world, man, I read a lot of books that were about the same things. They were often centered on some personal tragedy or some cataclysmic historical event and I rotated through my favourites as though they were articles of clothing (thrift store clothing though, new clothes were for superficial girls, man). Of course even I couldn’t maintain my social conscience all the time. The odd book (or series of books) managed to crack my façade and even my East German issue military jacket and I couldn’t resist the tales and trials of two perfect twin sisters or the gruesome fluff that was Christopher Pike.
Remember Me by Christopher Pike: My next-door neighbour, who I idolized and was two years older than me, read a lot of Christopher Pike. Even though I didn’t like horror and found his books to be quite gruesome, I still read a lot of them. The only one I really liked, probably because it strayed quite a bit from his formula and was far less gory, was Remember Me. Shari Cooper wakes up the morning after her friend’s party and her family doesn’t notice her. After a devastating phone call and trip to the hospital Shari learns that she is dead. Her death is ruled a suicide but Shari knows she was murdered. She vows to discover and reveal her killer even though she is pursued by the Shadow, the embodiment of evil itself. This was a great summer read, partly because it was so compelling and partly because reading it outside in the sunshine minimized the impact such content had on my ability to sleep.
– Guest Post by Sandra
