Description
Sassy, irreverant Aggie Stockdale should
have gotten the lead in her high school's production of Hello Dolly!
It's
her dream role; she's had the part memorized since she was ten; and she and
Roger Morton, who's playing the male lead, definitely had chemistry in the
audition. But Aggie isn't just a talented actress, writer, and athlete.
She's also the fattest girl in the senior class.
What happens after she checks the cast list
for the musical will hurl Aggie into an unexpected journey of tears,
friendship, jealousy, revenge, Oreos, and lots and lots of theatre. She'll
discover hidden talents and new friends; she'll survive a daunting
audition and revel in a thrilling opening night; she'll search for love,
inspiration, help with her math homework, and the perfect closing number;
and her emotional ride won't be over 'til the fat lady sings.
Praise and Reviews
Kirkus Reviews (April 1, 2011)
This dynamic theater story stars Aggie, a girl whose enthusiasm, mad
talent and diva qualities lead her astray. Steamed that she doesn’t get
the lead in the school’s production of Hello, Dolly and
convinced it’s because she’s fat, Aggie writes a roman à clef musical.
It features two girls, the fat one an undisguised Aggie, the thin one
suspiciously similar to the girl playing Dolly, Cynthia of the recent
boob job. Aggie’s friends (techie Suzanne, ever-loyal Elliot and
lyricist Cameron) support Aggie’s hostility toward Cynthia despite
knowing it’s unfair: Cynthia’s nice and actually deserved the lead
because of her singing skill. They mount a major production of Aggie’s
show that, astonishingly, succeeds. Aggie’s almost failing math, Cameron
comes out to his parents (and it goes badly) and Aggie resents the
parental support that Karl, her father’s partner, gives Cameron—Aggie’s
possessive of her stepfather’s attention. The prose, sometimes
unpolished and forced but always infused with warmth, brims with
musical-theater references. Unlike most arcs about fat teens, this one
never equates emotional growth with weight loss; Aggie’s refreshingly
non-symbolic fatness is just part of her. Like Elphaba in the song that
Cameron rewrites, Aggie tries defying gravity—and succeeds, musically,
socially and romantically. Given the ratings of Glee and the emerging popularity of teen lit combining queer themes and musicals, this should be a hit. (Fiction. 13 & up)
