Picture This
3.5/5
()
About this ebook
Also available in French.
Norah McClintock
Norah McClintock won the Crime Writers of Canada's Arthur Ellis Award for crime fiction for young people five times. She wrote more than sixty YA novels, including contributions to Seven (the series), the Seven Sequels and the Secrets series.
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Reviews for Picture This
6 ratings2 reviews
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5Ethan grew up with close gang ties and multiple thefts and arrests. Since moving to a new foster home with a strict but loving family, however, he has tried to straighten up. He no longer hangs out with his old friends and he has become enthusiastically involved in a summer youth program taking pictures of hawks. Because of this, he is surprised when he is attacked multiple times. It slowly becomes clear that whoever is attacking him wants his camera. Now Ethan must figure out who wants his camera and why before they succeed in killing him. Although the overall plot of Picture This is interesting, it comes out as a series of mildly exciting events with nothing in between. It is written in the first person with Ethan conversationally narrating the story. Despite a constant description of his thoughts and feelings, Ethan still has little range of emotion, even when he is attacked. Picture This is a quick, easy read, but it lacks the suspense and believability necessary for a hi-lo book. It is appropriate for children in grades eight through twelve that do not have strong reading skills. It is recommended for the young adult section of a public library.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5This is a very fast read about a boy, Ethan, who is turning his life around. He was involved with gangs in the past, but has stopped associating with them, and is now happily involved in a program for kids at risk called Picture This. While taking photographs for aPicture This assignment, he unknowingly captures a photograph that will end up endangering his life! This fast paced, easy novel will be perfect for middle school reluctant readers, especially boys, who have an interest in photography.
Book preview
Picture This - Norah McClintock
Picture This
Norah McClintock
orca soundings
ORCA BOOK PUBLISHERS
Copyright © 2009 Norah McClintock
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system now known or to be invented, without permission in writing from the publisher.
Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication
McClintock, Norah
Picture this / written by Norah McClintock.
(Orca soundings)
ISBN 978-1-55469-139-5 (bound).--ISBN 978-1-55469-138-8 (pbk.)
I. Title. II. Series: Orca soundings
PS8575.C62P52 2009 jC813'.54 C2009-902579-5
Summary: Ethan has a secret that someone is willing to kill for.
First published in the United States, 2009
Library of Congress Control Number: 2009927572
Orca Book Publishers gratefully acknowledges the support for its publishing programs provided by the following agencies: the Government of Canada through the Book Publishing Industry Development Program and the Canada Council for the Arts, and the Province of British Columbia through the BC Arts Council and the Book Publishing Tax Credit.
Cover design by Teresa Bubela
Cover photography by Getty Images
ORCA BOOK PUBLISHERS
PO BOX 5626, STN. B
VICTORIA, BC CANADA
V8R 6S4
ORCA BOOK PUBLISHERS
PO BOX 468
CUSTER, WA USA
98240-0468
www.orcabook.com
Printed and bound in Canada.
Printed on 100% PCW recycled paper.
12 11 10 09 • 4 3 2 1
To P.S. and those nice bright colors.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter One
It was my own stupid fault, just like everything else in my messed-up life.
It’s all about choices,
Deacon, my youth worker, always used to say. There are good choices and bad choices, and each one leads to more choices.
Okay, so it was a bad choice to decide to take a shortcut through a dark alley. Not that I expect anyone to believe me, but I actually thought about it before I did it. And I chose to take the shortcut anyway because (a) I’m a guy, not a girl, so it wasn’t like I had to be afraid that some crazy guy would attack me and drag me behind some bushes, and (b) I was in a hurry to get home before my foster mom started to worry. So I ducked into the alley.
I was exactly halfway down it, kicking a stone ahead of me and enjoying the rattling sound it made as it skipped across the broken asphalt ahead of me, when a guy came up behind me, stuck something hard into my back and offered me another choice: Hand over my backpack or else.
I stuck my hands up in the air and turned around slowly. Maybe you wouldn’t have done that. May be you would have just dropped that backpack without a second’s hesitation. But I wanted to know who I was dealing with—a guy who was pretending to have a gun shoved in my back or a guy who actually had a gun shoved in my back.
The guy was holding what looked like a real gun. He was wearing a balaclava, you know, one of those hood-like things that guys pull over their heads when they’re up to no good. All I could see were his eyes, which were hard and cold, and his mouth, which was small and mean.
Hand it over,
he said when I didn’t immediately do what he wanted.
You’ve got the wrong guy,
I said.
I know. You probably would have kept your mouth shut. But, really, he did have the wrong guy. I wasn’t some rich kid. There was no wallet bulging with cash and credit cards in my backpack. There was no bank card that he could grab or force me to use. There was nothing in there worth stealing except maybe my camera, and even that wasn’t worth much to anyone except me. There was no way I wanted to hand it over to someone who would either toss it or sell it for five or ten bucks.
Don’t make me say it again,
the guy said. He raised the gun and pointed it at my head.
I stared at the barrel. Up close, it looked as big as a cannon. My legs were shaking. I looked straight into the guy’s cold, hard eyes.
Seriously,
I said. There’s nothing in my backpack. I’m broke. I live with foster parents. And they only took me in because of the money the government pays them.
Only part of that was true. The Ashdales probably would have taken me in even if they didn’t get paid. It wasn’t about the money for them. They were foster parents because they wanted to make a difference in the lives of kids like me. They were strict, but they were nice.
This is your last chance,
the guy said.
I know what you’re thinking: What’s the matter with you, Ethan? Give the man the backpack before he hurts you. But you’re not me. You don’t understand how