I love books where the setting is just as big and alive as the characters. It doesn’t matter to me if it’s a familiar place or someplace new: if a vivid setting is a key element of the story, I’m in. I think it’s because I grew up in one of those small towns in the beautiful middle of nowhere where if someone asks where you’re from, it’s just easier to say someplace else. I wanted to see the world, and books let me do that. I also wanted validation in reading—and writing—about the small places I knew, and books let me do that, too.
I love how this book is the perfect example of how the setting makes a story: the flooded coastal Louisiana town of Boutin, Jillian, and all its residents are the story.
If a place disappears, will its stories also disappear? Jillian doesn’t only see the seemingly inevitable problems; rather, she becomes part of the solution by taking part in ecology projects and collecting the oral histories of the town’s residents. As Jillian says, if she can’t save the land, she can save the stories.
I also love the centered and matter-of-fact way this book handles family problems. Bonus points for all the cooking and great food.
For thirteen-year-old Jillian Robichaux, three things are sacred: bayou sunsets, her grandmother Nonnie's stories, and the coastal Louisiana town of Boutin that she calls home.
When the worst flood in a century hits, Jillian and the rest of her community band together as they always do - but this time the damage may simply be too great. After the local school is padlocked and the bridges into town condemned, Jillian has no choice but to face the reality that she may be losing the only home she's ever had.
But even when all hope seems lost, Jillian is determined to…
