That's Not What Happened
From New York Times bestseller Kody Keplinger comes an astonishing and thought-provoking exploration of the aftermath of tragedy, the power of narrative, and how we remember what we've lost.It's been three years since the Virgil County High School Massacre. Three years since my best friend, Sarah, was killed in a bathroom stall during the mass shooting. Everyone knows Sarah's story -- that she died proclaiming her faith.But it's not true.I know because I was with her when she died. I didn't say anything then, and people got hurt because of it. Now Sarah's parents are publishing a book about her, so this might be my last chance to set the record straight... but I'm not the only survivor with a story to tell about what did -- and didn't -- happen that day.Except Sarah's martyrdom is important to a lot of people, people who don't take kindly to what I'm trying to do. And the more I learn, the less certain I am about what's right. I don't know what will be worse: the guilt of staying silent or the consequences of speaking up...
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Community Reviews
This book just didn't sit well with me.
And not because it's about a school shooting and I'm a teacher. I've read a surprising amount of books about school shootings, given the fact that the likelihood of me dying at my place of work because of a gun is much higher than the average professional. Given the fact that when they moved my room, I hated the fact that there were no windows but I also thought to myself that it would be safer were a gunman to get into our school. Just to help me remember, I've read:
1. The Hate List
2. Endgame
3. This is Where it Ends
4. A Long Way Down (gun violence, if not a school shooting)
5. The Hate U Give (police brutality and the shooting of a teenager)
So no, it wasn't the subject matter per se that bothered me. And it wasn't even necessarily the fact that the book dealt with the aftermath of the trauma. The Hate List does, too. I did appreciate how the book had a character who turned to drinking because of the inability to deal with the trauma. I appreciated how it mentioned basically everyone went to counseling/therapy and there often was prescribed medication involved. As someone who manages their anxiety mostly through medication, I appreciated that and the description of the panic attacks, though I marveled at the main character's ability to will them away pretty quickly. I guess when you have more professional help and more practice...
No, what bothered me most was the main character. She was so, so selfish. She was unwilling to see things from basically anybody else's point of view until it was too late, and she'd gotten what she wanted. Then she didn't want it. Ugh. Only then was she like, "Oh dear, perhaps I've made a mistake". She's having a conversation with her mom, going, "I really want Kellie Gaynor to write a letter; I'm super sure she'll really want to write one" and her mom is like, "What if she doesn't? A lot can happen in three years," and main character is like, "But no????? She'll obvs want to write one???? Duh????" And then, surprise surprise, when Kellie Gaynor doesn't, main character is like "WHAAAAAT" and then "Oh, I regret all my decisions always". Le sigh.
Also, I felt like the whole asexual thing was forced and unnecessary. I am absolutely not against having diverse characters in books and I absolutely think asexual characters are underrepresented and that there's a lot of misinformation and confusion about people who identify as asexual and what that means, and I think this book did a good job of explaining that. I liked the metaphor about opening the fridge and not seeing anything you want to eat. Are you opposed to eating in general? No. Did you want to eat something out of that fridge at that particular moment? Nah. Nothing personal. But I did feel like the inclusion of Lee Bauer as an asexual person didn't really add anything to the story. I felt like it didn't really further the plot or the relationship between her and angsty teen Miles Mason. I don't know, it just felt out of place to me. I liked the storyline of the lesbian character better because it was just kind of there. Like, here's this girl and her girlfriend. The end. Now, let's move on to her drinking problem instead. I don't know.
And lastly, I found basically the whole topic off-putting. The idea that there was a misconception about the shooting, okay fine. The fact that it revolved around Christianity and faith affirmations and then everybody being so, so cruel and horrible to the girl who said it was her cross and not the girl everyone thought... And I didn't think there was enough discussion of that actual issue. It was kind of like, Christians are horrible because they're willing, by and large, to stomp on anyone who offers them a counternarrative to their faith. And I feel that, I do. I've encountered lots of people, of many different backgrounds, who struggle when someone presents them with something that fundamentally clashes with one of their most profoundly held beliefs. Hell, I'm sure I would struggle with something like that. But in this book, it was supposed to be the central idea and it felt really brushed over. It kind of just felt like "Christians suck, the end". The book really felt like it wanted to be eight different things and didn't manage to be any of them.
I also hated the letters.
None of the voices were really that different, and none of them were really written as letters. If I were a teenager writing a letter about my experiences, I would not include dialogue. Every single one included dialogue. Even, "I hate writing" Miles Mason's letter had dialogue. Just no, yo. And Denny's letter wasn't powerful, it was straight-up crap. You expect me to believe he got scholarships for that letter? Maybe to podunkville community college.
Anyhow.
Good idea, poorly executed.
And not because it's about a school shooting and I'm a teacher. I've read a surprising amount of books about school shootings, given the fact that the likelihood of me dying at my place of work because of a gun is much higher than the average professional. Given the fact that when they moved my room, I hated the fact that there were no windows but I also thought to myself that it would be safer were a gunman to get into our school. Just to help me remember, I've read:
1. The Hate List
2. Endgame
3. This is Where it Ends
4. A Long Way Down (gun violence, if not a school shooting)
5. The Hate U Give (police brutality and the shooting of a teenager)
So no, it wasn't the subject matter per se that bothered me. And it wasn't even necessarily the fact that the book dealt with the aftermath of the trauma. The Hate List does, too. I did appreciate how the book had a character who turned to drinking because of the inability to deal with the trauma. I appreciated how it mentioned basically everyone went to counseling/therapy and there often was prescribed medication involved. As someone who manages their anxiety mostly through medication, I appreciated that and the description of the panic attacks, though I marveled at the main character's ability to will them away pretty quickly. I guess when you have more professional help and more practice...
No, what bothered me most was the main character. She was so, so selfish. She was unwilling to see things from basically anybody else's point of view until it was too late, and she'd gotten what she wanted. Then she didn't want it. Ugh. Only then was she like, "Oh dear, perhaps I've made a mistake". She's having a conversation with her mom, going, "I really want Kellie Gaynor to write a letter; I'm super sure she'll really want to write one" and her mom is like, "What if she doesn't? A lot can happen in three years," and main character is like, "But no????? She'll obvs want to write one???? Duh????" And then, surprise surprise, when Kellie Gaynor doesn't, main character is like "WHAAAAAT" and then "Oh, I regret all my decisions always". Le sigh.
Also, I felt like the whole asexual thing was forced and unnecessary. I am absolutely not against having diverse characters in books and I absolutely think asexual characters are underrepresented and that there's a lot of misinformation and confusion about people who identify as asexual and what that means, and I think this book did a good job of explaining that. I liked the metaphor about opening the fridge and not seeing anything you want to eat. Are you opposed to eating in general? No. Did you want to eat something out of that fridge at that particular moment? Nah. Nothing personal. But I did feel like the inclusion of Lee Bauer as an asexual person didn't really add anything to the story. I felt like it didn't really further the plot or the relationship between her and angsty teen Miles Mason. I don't know, it just felt out of place to me. I liked the storyline of the lesbian character better because it was just kind of there. Like, here's this girl and her girlfriend. The end. Now, let's move on to her drinking problem instead. I don't know.
And lastly, I found basically the whole topic off-putting. The idea that there was a misconception about the shooting, okay fine. The fact that it revolved around Christianity and faith affirmations and then everybody being so, so cruel and horrible to the girl who said it was her cross and not the girl everyone thought... And I didn't think there was enough discussion of that actual issue. It was kind of like, Christians are horrible because they're willing, by and large, to stomp on anyone who offers them a counternarrative to their faith. And I feel that, I do. I've encountered lots of people, of many different backgrounds, who struggle when someone presents them with something that fundamentally clashes with one of their most profoundly held beliefs. Hell, I'm sure I would struggle with something like that. But in this book, it was supposed to be the central idea and it felt really brushed over. It kind of just felt like "Christians suck, the end". The book really felt like it wanted to be eight different things and didn't manage to be any of them.
I also hated the letters.
None of the voices were really that different, and none of them were really written as letters. If I were a teenager writing a letter about my experiences, I would not include dialogue. Every single one included dialogue. Even, "I hate writing" Miles Mason's letter had dialogue. Just no, yo. And Denny's letter wasn't powerful, it was straight-up crap. You expect me to believe he got scholarships for that letter? Maybe to podunkville community college.
Anyhow.
Good idea, poorly executed.
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