Twelve, by Lauren Myracle

In this sequel to Eleven, Winnie has turned twelve and twelve turns out to be an eventful year, ranging from getting her first bra and period to overnight camp and bee stings. A good boy and some fall-out with her best friend add more adventure.

I wrote that Eleven was good but boring because not too much of interest happens at that age. Holding aside the predictable menarche-inspired anecdotes (which, as important and dramatic as they are can be something of a predictable plot development in a book like this), the book simply is not very engaging. Part of the problem is that it is written as thirteen disconnected vignettes, as if Winnie was writing in a diary and only managed to do one entry a month. The anecdotes are well-written, but I never felt that interested in the character.

And as for the gratuitous name-dropping of Judy Blume in the November chapter, let's say that it was about as blatant as most of Blume's writing. Subtle it isn't. So, in case there is a young reader out there not familiar with Judy Blume, I'm sure that this will inpire them to pick up her ouevre. Or maybe not....sigh, I need to go back to teen books...