There are times we all feel we need more than one heart to get through.
When Briana’s father dies, she imagines she has a new heart growing inside her.
It speaks to her in her Dad’s voice. Some of its commands are mysterious.
Find Her! it says. Be Your Own!
How can Briana “be her own” when her grieving mother needs her to take care of her demanding little brother all the time?
When all her grandpa can do is tell stories instead of being the “rock" she needs? When her not-so-normal home life leaves no time to pursue her dream of writing for the school literary magazine?
When the first blush of a new romance threatens to be nipped in the bud? Forced by the loss of her favorite parent to see all that was once familiar with new eyes, Briana draws on her own imagination, originality, and tender loving heart to discover a surprising path through the storm.
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About the Author:
As publisher of the award winning imprint, Laura Geringer Books, editor, story advisor, teacher and writer, Laura Geringer Bass has collaborated with many celebrated authors and artists in the field of children’s books. She has worked with numerous publishing houses and entertainment studios including HarperCollins, Simon and Schuster, Scholastic, Houghton Mifflin, Hyperion/Disney, Dreamworks, Fox, and CBS. She develops picture books, illustrated novels and YAs in partnership with Shannon Associates LLC a global talent agency representing over 200 writers and artists worldwide. She teaches writing workshops privately and at the JCC and is a faculty member of New York Writer’s Workshop (NYWW), an instructor for Prison Writes serving teens at risk through New York City's Administration for Children’s Services' Close to Home program (ACS), and a mentor for Girls Write Now. Laura is the author of twenty books for children including the bestselling A THREE HAT DAY, an ALA Notable Book illustrated by Arnold Lobel, a Top Ten featured selection on LeVar Burton’s Reading Rainbow. Her YA fantasy, SIGN OF THE QIN, an ALA Best Book was shortlisted for the Printz award. MYTH MEN, her popular series of graphic novels was adapted by CBS as an animated TV show. Her love of story informs her service on the board of First Book, a non-profit organization that has delivered over 150 million books into the hands of children in need. Her new novel for middle graders, THE GIRL WITH MORE THAN ONE HEART, is due out from Abrams on April 17, 2018.
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THE GIRL WITH MORE THAN ONE HEART EXCERPT
The day my father’s heart stopped, I discovered an extra heart deep in my belly, below my right rib. It talked to me. I wasn’t crazy. Before that day, I had just one heart that never said a word.
My little brother, Aaron, was kind of crazy, I guess, but everything in our house was what my grandpa Ben liked to call “under control.” At least I always knew what to expect.
Aaron and I had two parents, but really we each had one. Mom was in charge of Aaron. As soon as he was born, she quit her job so she could take care of him. She was his. Grandpa Ben was Aaron’s, too. Dad was mine.
I missed Mom—the mother I remembered from Before Aaron. She used to pick me up every day after school. If my nose was running, she had tissues. She took them from her purse, and they smelled sweet like flowers.
…
I tried not to pay much attention to Aaron and Mom. I really didn’t need Mom to pick me up from school. I was old enough to walk home with my friends. I played with Peter, my best friend, and Tina, my next-to-best friend, and Reena, who tagged along. They came over to my house almost every day, or I went to theirs. Actually, it wasn’t ever Reena who tagged along. It was me, but I didn’t know it back then.
On weekends, it was harder not to notice Mom and Aaron in their own little bubble, but Dad was more fun than Mom and we had adventures, just the two of us. We’d sneak out of the house without letting Mom and Aaron know where we were going. Mostly, we just went to the movies at the Loews around the corner. Or we rode our bikes in Inwood Park. Or we went swimming at the Y. Or we took the subway to museums like the New York Hall of Science in Queens, the one with the giant yellow slide and the see-through floor and the water wheel in the play-ground. Dad walked on a weird treadmill there once with special sensors in the handlebars. It spat out a crinkly blue slip of paper like the fortune in a cookie. Dad read the paper and looked annoyed. He crumpled it into his fist and shook it at the machine. “What else is new?” he said.
I hopped off my treadmill. It was a twin to Dad’s, but it spat out a red paper. Don’t quit now, it said. Go for pro.
I showed Dad my printout. “What does yours say?” I asked. “I’ll trade you. I like blue better.” He handed his to me in an angry little ball. I rubbed it with my finger to flatten it out. It said: Your heart is working too hard.
“You may as well tell me I’m alive,” said Dad to his machine.
“Mine didn’t say that,” I said. “I’m alive.”
“You may as well tell me I have a family,” he said.
“I do, too,” I pointed out.
“And that I love my family no matter what,” he added, not looking at me. He was still talking to the treadmill. “If you’re human, your heart is working too hard,” he said.
I wondered if my treadmill could tell I didn’t love Mom and Aaron no matter what. I wondered if it knew that when it came to Mom and Aaron, I wasn’t sure I had a heart at all. When Dad was tired, the pale scar on his forehead from when he was a little kid and rode his bike through a glass door bulged a bit, as if a worm had gotten under his skin. It did that now. I wondered if Mom and Dad had been up all night again, talking about Aaron, worrying about him.
“I’m human,” I reminded Dad.
He looked at me then and smiled. “As human as they come,” he said.
“I love you, Dad,” I burst out. I hugged him. I reached up and touched his scar and then his beard gently, the way I’d seen Mom do it. “I’m not so sure about Mom and Aaron. I guess I love them—but not as much.”
He didn’t correct me. He didn’t say, “Of course you love Mom and Aaron.” He gathered me in his arms and squeezed me tight. He said, “I love you, too, Beautiful.”
Copyright © 2018 by Laura Geringer Bass
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