Dope sick /

by Myers, Walter Dean.
Material type: materialTypeLabelBookPublisher: New York : Amistad, 2010.Edition: 1st pbk. ed.Description: 186, 14 pages ; 18 cm.ISBN: 9780061214790; 0061214795.Subject(s): Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction | Drug abuse -- Juvenile fiction | African Americans -- Juvenile fiction | Paranormal fiction | Harlem (New York, N.Y.) -- Juvenile fiction | Conduct of life -- Fiction | Drug abuse -- Fiction | African Americans -- Fiction | Supernatural -- Fiction | Harlem (New York, N.Y.) -- Fiction | Paranormal fiction | Fiction | Juvenile works | Paranormal fictionSummary: Seeing no way out of his difficult life in Harlem, seventeen-year-old Jeremy "Lil J" Dance flees into a house after a drug deal goes awry and meets a weird man who shows different turning points in Lil J's life when he could have made better choices.
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Enhanced descriptions from Syndetics:

<p>A powerful novel of drugs, violence--and second chances. Dope Sick, from two-time Newbery Honor winner and five-time Coretta Scott King Award winner Walter Dean Myers, belongs on reading lists beside Long Way Down by Jason Reynolds and Dear Martin by Nic Stone.</p> <p>A drug deal goes south and a cop has been shot. Lil J's on the run. And he's starting to get dope sick. He'd do anything to change the last twenty-four hours, and when he stumbles into an abandoned building, it actually might be possible. . . .<br> <br></p> <p>Elements of magical realism intensify this harrowing story about drug use, violence, perceptions of reality, and second chances.</p> <p>This ALA Quick Pick for Reluctant Young Adult Readers earned multiple starred reviews and was described as "vivid," "nuanced," and "intriguing." Booklist said: "Myers' narrative strategy is so inherently dramatic that it captures his readers' attentions and imaginations, inviting not only empathy but also thoughtful discussion."<br> <br></p> <p>Walter Dean Myers was a New York Times bestselling author, Printz Award winner, five-time winner of the Coretta Scott King Award, two-time Newbery Honor recipient, and the National Ambassador for Young People's Literature. Maria Russo, writing in the New York Times, called Myers "one of the greats and a champion of diversity in children's books well before the cause got mainstream attention."</p>

"Extras inside"--Cover.

Originally published in hardcover: New York : HarperTeen/Amistad, 2009.

Seeing no way out of his difficult life in Harlem, seventeen-year-old Jeremy "Lil J" Dance flees into a house after a drug deal goes awry and meets a weird man who shows different turning points in Lil J's life when he could have made better choices.

Excerpt provided by Syndetics

<opt> <anon I1="BLANK" I2="BLANK">Dope Sick AER Chapter One My arm was hurting bad. Real bad. The bone could have been broken. I couldn't tell. I just knew it was hurting and swollen. I felt like just taking the gun out and throwing it away and giving up so I could get the mess over with. I opened my mouth so I wouldn't make so much noise when I breathed. Down the street I saw the patrol car was still at the corner. He had his lights flashing. I didn't know if he'd seen which way I was running or not. I knew I was too tired to keep running much more. I started to lift my arm to look at my watch and the whole arm just lit up with pain. The bone had to be broken. I figured it was two or three o'clock in the morning. Skeeter had called me just past midnight and told me they got Rico. I knew Rico was going to punk out. In a way I was glad they got him, but I knew he was going to blame everything on me. I was in the shadows in a shop doorway and I knew I couldn't stay there much longer. I had to lie down or sit down or something. Had to get my head together. There was an old building across the street, and it looked like the front door was open. Maybe some juiceheads was in there. I didn't know, but I couldn't stay on the street much more. My arm was hurting too bad, and if that cop had really seen it was me, there would be more cops coming soon. I felt like crying, like just running down the street and letting them shoot meâ€"anything and everything at the same time. I was messed up big-time and I knew it. I saw two women walk over to the police car. Probably hookers out doing their stroll. The cop in the car was talking to them and then he got out and went around the back of the car. I looked to see if he had his gun in his hand. From where I was in the doorway I couldn't see too clear. He might have. I could feel my heart beating fast and my right hand was shaking in my pocket. The cop and the two women walked a little way down the street, and he was up on his toes, trying to look into one of the building windows. I took a deep breath and moved from the doorway to behind a parked car. The street wasn't big and half the buildings didn't have nobody living in them, so it was dark except for the streetlight, and that wasn't working right. Nothing wasn't working right in my life. I got across the street and into the doorway of the building I had been scoping. Looking down the street, I saw the cop and the two women were still together. The sound of another siren scared me. I couldn't tell where it was coming from. Keeping my eyes on the cop down the street, I pushed on the door behind me with my foot. It opened and I eased into the house. The smell was terrible. Like somebody had been using it as a piss hole. It was dark except for the light from the cracked-open door. I saw some steps and started thinking about the roof. If I got to the roof, I could come down in another building, maybe even on another block. My left arm was pretty stiff and I didn't want to move it too much. I let go of the Nine I had been carrying since I left my house and fished around in my pockets for some matches. When I found some, I was scared to light them. Maybe the cop had seen me come into the building. Maybe he was just waiting outside for some backup before he came busting in the door. I put the matches in the pocket with the Nine and started up the steps, walking close to the wall so they wouldn't creak too much. The smell wasn't no better, but it changed a little as I got near the second floor. It was just that musty smell that old buildings have sometimes. I smelled some vinegar too, so I thought there might have been some dopeheads shooting up in one of the rooms. I stopped and lit a match, holding the book in my left hand and striking the match with my right. There was garbage on the floor and some piles of old plaster. I seen where the next steps was and started for them. I was being quiet because I didn't want to run into no dopehead or crazy homeless dude. When I got to the third floor, I heard a sound. It was people talking. I held my breath, trying to figure out if it was somebody who had come in after me or somebody already in the building. My heart was pumping big-time, a mile a minute, and I was feeling sick to my stomach as I leaned against the wall. Maybe there was a way to figure out where the sound was coming from, but I didn't have that way in me. I was too scared to think good. I knew that if the sound was in the building, it wasn't no cops, so I started up the stairs again. Halfway up the next flight I saw a light coming from under one of the doors. Then I heard the sound again and knew somebody had a television on. If it was a homeless guy, it would be okay, unless he was crazy and had a knife or an axe or something. If I had to shoot him, the cops might hear it. If it was a doper it would be better. A doper might just be on a nod and might not even wake up. Dope Sick AER . Copyright © by Walter Myers . Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved. Available now wherever books are sold. Excerpted from Dope Sick by Walter Dean Myers All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.</anon> </opt>

Reviews provided by Syndetics

Library Journal Review

Seventeen-year-old Lil J is in a pickle when his escalating drug habit puts him in trouble with the law. His flight to what he thinks at first is a crack house may be the ticket to turn his life around, when meets "Kelly," a homeless man who uses a television and a remote control to offer Lil J some visionary wisdom, opening his mind to other possibilities for his immediate future. The subtle magical realism in this story makes for an intriguing read.-Vanessa Morris, The iSchool at Drexel University, Philadelphia (c) Copyright 2010. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

Horn Book Review

(Middle school, High School) On the run after a drug deal turns into a cop shooting, Lil J ducks into an abandoned building and encounters Kelly, an enigmatic figure who puts this question to him: "If you could take back one thing you did, what would it be?" Like Scrooge's ghostly visitors, the television in Kelly's apartment has the power to show Lil J scenes from his past, present, and future, allowing him to reflect, over the course of one long night, on how it all went wrong. Through a series of flashbacks and conversations, we gradually come to see how his choices have led him to his current desperate state. Many of the author's recent novels play to a similar theme, and it has been too easy to dismiss them as overly didactic, but Myers communicates powerfully the pitfalls of the urban neighborhood -- drugs, violence, poverty, despair -- driving home his message that one does not accidentally survive them but that it takes a conscious and vigilant effort to overcome relentless adversity. From HORN BOOK, (c) Copyright 2010. The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

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