Please Pay Attention

Please Pay Attention

Three starred reviews! A girl with cerebral palsy navigates loss, grief, and the aftermath of trauma following a school shooting in a world that wasn’t built for her in this “intimate, lyrical” ( Publishers Weekly, starred review) novel in verse from Jamie Sumner, the acclaimed author of Roll with It . There is a Before and an After for sixth grader Bea Coughlin. Before the shooting at her school that took the lives of her classmates and teacher and After , when she must figure out how to grieve, live, and keep rolling forward. But as her community rallies in a tidal wave of marches and speeches and protests, Bea can’t get past the helplessness she felt in her wheelchair as others around her took cover. Through the help of therapeutic horseback riding, Bea finally begins to feel like herself again. And as she heals, she finds her voice and the bravery to demand change. * "The poetic language makes the horror of school violence clear without depicting it in a graphic way. In the end, Bea’s courageous recovery will prompt readers of all ages to examine whether school lockdown policies truly accommodate all students—and consider the possibility of a more peaceful world where such policies can be a relic of the past." -- BookPage , STARRED REVIEW * “Intimate, lyrical . . . . an accessible and cohesive interpretation of what it means to live with grief and find a way to feel like oneself after tragedy, as well as an homage to young voices and their impact on society.” -- Publishers Weekly, STARRED REVIEW * "This heartfelt exploration of trauma, recovery, and the search for light in the darkest of times will resonate with middle school readers, offering a meaningful reflection on personal and societal healing." -- School Library Journal, STARRED REVIEW "An emotionally gripping story about school violence, trauma, and recovery, whose focus on disability and mobility asks important questions about common assumptions and protocols of disaster preparedness and safety." -- Horn Book "Poignantly portrays the devastation that gun violence wreaks while leaving room for hope. . . . Bea’s gradual improvement via equine therapy and Max’s emphatic support are heartening, and readers will root both for Bea’s recovery and for adults in power to ‘please pay attention / and then / act.’ . . . Heart-wrenching yet hopeful.” -- Kirkus Reviews “[In] this haunting, painfully relevant verse novel . . . Sumner proves yet again to be a deft hand in matching cadence and form with her subject . . . Bea’s story gives voice to the frustration and fear of students, teachers, and parents living in a world where young lives are collateral damages to people’s political beliefs.” -- The Bulletin of the Center for Children's Books “[T]his novel in verse invites the reader to feel Bea’s every emotion while still rooting for the growth we know is coming. Well-paced with care taken in more sensitive scenes, this is a must-read book for fans of Erin Bow's Simon Sort of Says and Barbara Dee.” -- Booklist Jamie Sumner is the author of Roll with It , Time to Roll , Rolling On , Tune It Out , One Kid’s Trash , The Summer of June , Maid for It , Deep Water , Please Pay Attention , Schooled , and Glory Be . Her work has appeared in The New York Times , The Washington Post , and other publications. She loves stories that celebrate the grit and beauty in all kids. She is also the mother of a son with cerebral palsy and has written extensively about parenting a child with special needs. She and her family live in Nashville, Tennessee. Visit her at Jamie-Sumner.com. 1. Faculty Kid: (Ten Days Before) 1. Faculty Kid (Ten Days Before) “Birdsong” is one of my favorite words. It sounds old-fashioned and also like someone made it up, which I guess they did, because how else do we get words? I wake to birdsong— the chirp-chirrupy-chirp of robins readying their lungs for a full day of humming and hopping and enjoying their birdselves. I press my nose to the open window screen and chirrup back because it is Friday and Max said I can go green today. I’ve been orange sherbet for six weeks, which is how long she says I have to wait before I dye my hair again; otherwise it will fall out. That’s what she says, anyway. I have to listen to her because as the school nurse, she knows the human body, and as my guardian, she buys me Cheetos Puffs. My whole scalp tingles in anticipation. Maybe I can dye it in the teacher’s lounge bathroom during lunch so I don’t have to wait aaaaaall the way until after school. In the kitchen of our tiny duplex on Battlefield Ave., she catches me tucking the box of lime-green dye into my bag. “Not going to happen.” She reaches for the box, but not before I roll back and take a lap around the kitchen table, out of reach. “Bea.” “Max.” She takes a sip of coffee that is mostly cream and gives me the look— the