Thoughts on *A Grown-Up Kind of Pretty* by Joshilyn Jackson

• A Grown-Up Kind of Pretty by Joshilyn Jackson
• Hardcover: 336 pages
• Publisher: Grand Central Publishing (January 25, 2012)
• ISBN-13: 978-0446582353

Who and what is the book about (back-of-the-book blurb): A Grown-Up Kind of Pretty is a powerful saga of three generations of women, plagued by hardships and torn by a devastating secret, yet inextricably joined by the bonds of family. Fifteen-year-old Mosey Slocumb – spirited, sassy, and on the cusp of womanhood – is shaken when a small grave is unearthed in the backyard, and determined to figure out why it’s there. Liza, her stroke-ravaged mother, is haunted by choices she made as a teenager. But it is Ginny – known as “Big” -, Mosey’s strong and big-hearted grandmother, whose maternal love braids together the strands of the women’s shared past — and who will stop at nothing to defend their future.

Where and when does it take place: Mississippi, in the current day; Jackson shares some backstory of when Big was 15 (and pregnant with Liza), and a lot of flashback to when Liza was 15 (and pregnant with Mosey), but most of the novel focuses on the present day and what’s happening with Mosey and her interactions with Liza and Big – whose initial concern is to make sure Mosey break the “15 and pregnant” pattern. When a shallow grave, bones, and a tattered baby blanket are unearthed in the backyard, their focus changes quickly.

What would I say to a friend who asked me about it: Once again Joshilyn Jackson has shattered the myths I once held about “Southern fiction.” Her novels are multi-layered, and look at realistic relationships and challenges. These are strong women, not hesitant to speak up for what’s right, and to do anything to protect those that they love. Jackson takes on social/economic class and its perceived relation to “class” (as in Jackie O class), showing that one can have riches in the bank, but be poor in spirit – and vice versa.

The three generations of Slocumb women (Ginny/”Big”, Liza, and Mosey) found strengths they (or others) didn’t know they had. Mosey didn’t rely solely on her mother and grandmother, though; her best friend is Roger, the proverbial ‘boy next door,’ and she develops a friendship with Patti, a female classmate from the “wrong side of the tracks” as the book progresses.

The format of the narrative helped me to get caught up in the world of Big, Liza, and Mosey. Some chapters are told in first-person from Big or Mosey’s view; others are told in third-person, with a focus on Liza. This is especially effective as Liza struggles to communicate post-stroke.

Why did I read it: The first novel by Joshilyn Jackson that read (listened to) was Backseats Saints, which took me by surprise in the most positive of ways. I commented on the “depth and intricacy of the plot,” and noted that I “loved the characters” (hee-hee, I sound like a Zagat Guide!). Since that time (August 2010 – oh, how fondly I remember when I had the time to read through a new-to-me author’s backlist), I’ve had her on my “must read more!” list. This “to do” list, coupled with the opportunity to hear Joshilyn Jackson as the keynote speaker at the Salem List Fest this past fall (she’s smart, she’s funny, and, of course, and excellent storyteller), pushed me to gobble up this latest novel when I had the chance. Plus, I have a 15-year daughter, and was eager to peek into the mind of this species via an author who tells it like it is.

A few favorite passages: The opening paragraphs pull the reader in (this is from the Prologue, told in Big’s voice):

My daughter, Liza, put her heart in a silver box and buried it under the willow tree in our backyard. Or as close to under that tree as she could anyway. The thick web of roots shunted her off to the side, to the place where the willow’s long fingers trailed down. They swept back and forth across the troubled earth, helping Liza smooth away the dig marks.

It was foolish. there’s no way to hide things underground in Mississippi. Our rich, wet soil turns every winter burial into a spring planting. Over the years, Liza’s heart, small and cold and broken as it was, grew into a host of secrets that could ruin us all and cost us Mosey, Liza’s own little girl. I can’t blame Liza, though. She was young and hurt, and she did the best she could.

And after all, I’m the damn fool who went and dug it up.

What else can I add: I read the print edition of A Grown-Up Kind of Pretty, but feel confident recommending the audio edition as well. I so enjoyed Jackson’s narration of Backseat Saints – she’s the rare author whose spoken voice is perfect for her written voice. Oh, and when I was at the Salem Lit Fest I purchased gods in Alabama (which several people have pointed to as her *best* novel); it’ll be the next Joshilyn Jackson I read.

One more thing … trivia: her first name is pronounced like “Jocelyn” (no “shhh” sound).