If I Stay

Zusatztext "Beautifully written."-- Entertainment Weekly "A beautiful novel."- -Los Angeles Times "A do-not-miss story of love, friendship, family, loss, control, and coping."-- Justine Magazine "The brilliance of this book is the simplicity."-- The Wall Street Journal "A touching and thought-provoking novel."-- Romantic Times Informationen zum Autor Gayle Forman is an award-winning, internationally bestselling author and journalist. She is the author of Just One Day and Just One Year , and the companion e-novella Just One Night , as well as the New York Times bestsellers If I Stay and Where She Went . She lives in Brooklyn, New York, with her husband and daughters. Klappentext In a single moment, everything changes. Seventeen year-old Mia has no memory of the accident; she can only recall riding along the snow-wet Oregon road with her family. Then, in a blink, she finds herself watching as her own damaged body is taken from the wreck... A sophisticated, layered, and heartachingly beautiful story about the power of family and friends, the choices we all make-and the ultimate choice Mia commands. 7:09 A.M. Everyone thinks it was because of the snow. And in a way, I suppose that's true. I wake up this morning to a thin blanket of white covering our front lawn. It isn't even an inch, but in this part of Oregon a slight dusting brings everything to a standstill as the one snowplow in the county gets busy clearing the roads. It is wet water that drops from the skyand drops and drops and dropsnot the frozen kind. It is enough snow to cancel school. My little brother, Teddy, lets out a war whoop when Mom's AM radio announces the closures. Snow day! he bellows. Dad, let's go make a snowman. My dad smiles and taps on his pipe. He started smoking one recently as part of this whole 1950s, Father Knows Best retro kick he is on. He also wears bow ties. I am never quite clear on whether all this is sartorial or sardonicDad's way of announcing that he used to be a punker but is now a middle-school English teacher, or if becoming a teacher has actually turned my dad into this genuine throwback. But I like the smell of the pipe tobacco. It is sweet and smoky, and reminds me of winters and woodstoves. You can make a valiant try, Dad tells Teddy. But it's hardly sticking to the roads. Maybe you should consider a snow amoeba. I can tell Dad is happy. Barely an inch of snow means that all the schools in the county are closed, including my high school and the middle school where Dad works, so it's an unexpected day off for him, too. My mother, who works for a travel agent in town, clicks off the radio and pours herself a second cup of coffee. Well, if you lot are playing hooky today, no way I'm going to work. It's simply not right. She picks up the telephone to call in. When she's done, she looks at us. Should I make breakfast? Dad and I guffaw at the same time. Mom makes cereal and toast. Dad's the cook in the family. Pretending not to hear us, she reaches into the cabinet for a box of Bisquick. Please. How hard can it be? Who wants pancakes? I do! I do! Teddy yells. Can we have chocolate chips in them? I don't see why not, Mom replies. Woo hoo! Teddy yelps, waving his arms in the air. You have far too much energy for this early in the morning, I tease. I turn to Mom. Maybe you shouldn't let Teddy drink so much coffee. I've switched him to decaf, Mom volleys back. He's just naturally exuberant. As long as you're not switching me to decaf, I say. That would be child abuse, Dad says. Mom hands me a steaming mug and the newspaper. There's a nice picture of your young man in there, she says. Really? A picture? Yep. It's about the most we'...

"Beautifully written."--Entertainment Weekly

"A beautiful novel."--Los Angeles Times

"A do-not-miss story of love, friendship, family, loss, control, and coping."--Justine Magazine

"The brilliance of this book is the simplicity."-- The Wall Street Journal

"A touching and thought-provoking novel."--Romantic Times

Autorentext

Gayle Forman is an award-winning, internationally bestselling author and journalist. She is the author of Just One Day and Just One Year, and the companion e-novella Just One Night, as well as the New York Times bestsellers If I Stay and Where She Went. She lives in Brooklyn, New York, with her husband and daughters.

Klappentext

In a single moment, everything changes. Seventeen year-old Mia has no memory of the accident; she can only recall riding along the snow-wet Oregon road with her family. Then, in a blink, she finds herself watching as her own damaged body is taken from the wreck... A sophisticated, layered, and heartachingly beautiful story about the power of family and friends, the choices we all make-and the ultimate choice Mia commands.

Zusammenfassung
In a single moment, everything changes. Seventeen year-old Mia has no memory of the accident; she can only recall riding along the snow-wet Oregon road with her family. Then, in a blink, she finds herself watching as her own damaged body is taken from the wreck... A sophisticated, layered, and heartachingly beautiful story about the power of family and friends, the choices we all make—and the ultimate choice Mia commands.

Leseprobe
7:09 A.M. Everyone thinks it was because of the snow. And in a way, I suppose that’s true.

I wake up this morning to a thin blanket of white covering our front lawn. It isn’t even an inch, but in this part of Oregon a slight dusting brings everything to a standstill as the one snowplow in the county gets busy clearing the roads. It is wet water that drops from the sky—and drops and drops and drops—not the frozen kind.

It is enough snow to cancel school. My little brother, Teddy, lets out a war whoop when Mom’s AM radio announces the closures. “Snow day!” he bellows. “Dad, let’s go make a snowman.”

My dad smiles and taps on his pipe. He started smoking  one recently as part of this whole 1950s, Father Knows Best retro kick he is on. He also wears bow ties. I am never quite clear on whether all this is sartorial or sardonic—Dad’s way of announcing that he used to be a punker but is now a middle-school English teacher, or if becoming a teacher has actually turned my dad into this genuine throwback. But I like the smell of the pipe tobacco. It is sweet and smoky, and reminds me of winters and woodstoves.

“You can make a valiant try,” Dad tells Teddy. “But it’s hardly sticking to the roads. Maybe you should consider a snow amoeba.”

I can tell Dad is happy. Barely an inch of snow means that all the schools in the county are closed, including my high school and the middle school where Dad works, so it’s an unexpected day off for him, too. My mother, who works for a travel agent in town, clicks off the radio and pours herself a second cup of coffee. “Well, if you lot are playing hooky today, no way I’m going to work. It’s simply not right.” She picks up the telephone to call in. When she’s done, she looks at us. “Should I make breakfast?”

Dad and I guffaw at the same time. Mom makes cereal and toast. Dad’s the cook in the family.

Pretending not to hear us, she reaches into the cabinet for a box of Bisquick. “Please. How hard can it be? Who wants pancakes?”

“I do! I do!” Teddy yells. “Can we have chocolate chips in them?”

“I don’t see why not,” Mom replies.

“Woo hoo!” Teddy yelps, waving his arms in the air.

“You have far too much energy for this early in the morning,” I tease. I turn to Mom. “Maybe you shouldn’t let Teddy drink so much coffee.”

“I’ve switched him to decaf,” Mom volleys back. “He’s just naturally…