Lauren strasnick biography

Welcome, Lauren and congratulations on your new YA, Her and Me and You!


First love, broken friendships, and heartache all play a part in this evocative, voice-driven novel about Alex, a girl whose world is ripped apart when her father&#;s affair splits her family in two.



Alex moves with her mess of a mother to a new town, where she is befriended by hot, enigmatic Fred&#;and alternately flirted with and cold-shouldered by Fred&#;s twin sister, Adina. Others warn Alex to steer clear of the twins, whose sibling relationship is considered abnormal at best, but there&#;s just something about Fred&#;and something about Adina&#;that draws Alex to them and makes her want to be part of their crazy world, no matter the consequences.


Bio:

Lauren Strasnick is a graduate of Emerson College and the California Institute of the Arts (CalArts) MFA Writing Program. Her firstnovel, NOTHING LIKE YOU, was published by Simon Pulse/Simon & Schuster in Fall Her second book, HER and ME and YOU, another S&S teen title, will hit shelves this October.

Excerpt:

1.

I met Fred first.

At a party on Orchard Ave. that Charlotte Kincaid took me to.

Him: &#;Need a beer?&#;

Me: &#;I&#;ve already got one.&#;

&#;Well, drink up,&#; he instructed. He was pale and skinny and who wears Docksiders and corduroy? &#;When you&#;re ready I&#;ll get you another.&#;

Charlotte and I stood shoulder to shoulder chomping pretzels and watching the drunk crowd rock. Charlotte nursed her canned Bud Light and I picked at a pebble of salt wedged between my two front teeth.

&#;You&#;re new.&#;

&#;Right.&#; You&#;re new. No question mark.

I&#;d been in Meadow Marsh a week. I missed home. And Evie. And Charlotte Kincaid would never be Evie. She was soft-spoken and smelled like baby powder and dryer sheets. She had none of Evie&#;s charm or spark.

&#;Let&#;s sit,&#; Fred suggested.

&#;I&#;d rather not.&#;

Charlotte shot me a look, then wandered away. Where was she going? Bathroom? Food foraging? &#;I want to be alone,&#; I told him, downing the rest of my beer and grabbing another out of the six pack on the floor by his feet.

&#;You&#;re at a party.&#;

I felt my face flush, then twisted the top off the bottle and shoved the cap in my coat pocket.

&#;You don&#;t really want to be alone&#;

True. I wanted to be with Evie. Or home with Mom and Dad watching crappy TV. I took a bitter swig of beer and handed the bottle back. &#;You want the rest?&#; It was time to go.

&#;Your backwash?&#;

&#;Nice meeting you,&#; I said. I pulled my hat from my bag.

&#;Wait &#; you&#;re leaving?&#;

&#;Do me a favor? If you see Charlotte Kincaid, tell her I walked home?&#;

&#;You can&#;t walk &#; it&#;s pitch black and freezing.&#;

&#;I&#;ll be fine,&#; I said. &#;My grandmother&#;s place is like, half a mile away.&#;

&#;You live with your grandma?&#;

In fact, no, Grams was dead. But I&#;d just moved twenty-eight miles with my unhinged mother to my grandmother&#;s place in Connecticut. Because my favorite parent, Dad, had done some very bad things with a paralegal named Caroline.

&#;Hey -- &#;

I pulled on my hat and headed for the door.

&#;Wait!&#;

&#;What?&#;

&#;Your name?&#;

&#;Alex.&#;

&#;Alex,&#; he mouthed. &#;I&#;m Fred.&#;

&#;Fred, right.&#; I was walking backwards now, toward the foyer. &#;What&#;s with the Docksiders, Fred?&#;

He looked down then back up. &#;You don&#;t like my shoes?&#;

I smiled, turned, and reached for the door.