Awards and Honors for Scribbler of Dreams
2004 Winner of the South Carolina Young Adult Book Award
Best book 2001 Society of School Librarians International
Young Adult Choice 2003 International Reading Association
Texas TAYSHAS List 2002-2003
2003-2004 Colorado Blue Spruce Young Adult Book Award Master List
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Critics and readers say:
"Fans will be glued to this weepy tale of love and deception.
Irresistible . . . " –Booklist
"A gripping novel about hatred and truth . . . " --St. Louis Post Dispatch
" . . . will heave a satisfied sigh . . ." –Patty Campbell, Amazon
" . . . believable characters . . . a good book to use to talk about points of view and perspectives . . . fast moving . . . " –School Library Journal
" . . . suspenseful . . . " --VOYA
" . . a heartbreaking tale of first encounters . . . " --San Diego Magazine
"A riveting plot grabs hold of the reader from the very first page and doesn't let up, even once, until the last page is turned." --January Magazine
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Scribbler of Dreams
©2001 Mary E. Pearson
Chapter 1
“I hate the Crutchfields!”
I had always hated the Crutchfields.
I was born to hate the Crutchfields.
I glanced from the mirror to my open bedroom door, hoping my mother hadn’t heard me. Today was as hard for her as it was for me. Maybe harder.
She poked her head in the door. She’d heard.
“Almost ready?” she asked.
“Two more minutes,” I said. I tried to sound perky. Perky. Right. “Tell Abby to wait in the car for me.”
My mom sighed. “Kaitlin—”
“No, Mom. Don’t start. It’s only a school. Relax. Everything will be fine.”
She nodded and left.
But everything wasn’t fine. It would never be fine again. I was about to start my senior year at a Crutchfield school . . . .
The hate my family had nursed for generations was no longer a casual fact in my head. I felt it. I wanted it. It burned inside of me. It was something I could count on, when I could count on nothing else.
I took a last look in my cracked dresser mirror and pulled my long, dark hair into a pony tail. I twisted it into a bun and tucked my T-shirt into my jeans. It didn’t help.
“You’ll never fit in, Kaitlin Malone,” I whispered. I opened my eyes wide so tears couldn’t gather and spill down my cheeks.
There was no time for that.
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