Moxie: A Novel

By Jennifer Mathieu

Now a Netflix Original Film directed by Amy Poehler.

"Sweet, funny, and fierce. Read this and then join the fight."—Amy Poehler

An unlikely teenager starts a feminist revolution at a small-town Texas high school in this novel from Jennifer Mathieu, author of Down Came the Rain and The Truth About Alice.

Vivian Carter is fed up. Fed up with an administration at her high school that thinks the football team can do no wrong. Fed up with sexist dress codes, hallway harassment, and gross comments from guys during class. But most of all, Viv Carter is fed up with always following the rules.

Viv's mom was a tough-as-nails, punk rock Riot Grrrl in the '90s, and now Viv takes a page from her mother's past and creates a feminist zine that she distributes anonymously to her classmates. She's just blowing off steam, but other girls respond. As Viv forges friendships with other young women across the divides of cliques and popularity rankings, she realizes that what she has started is nothing short of a girl revolution.

Moxie girls fight back!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Macmillan Publishers
• Release date: Sep 19, 2017
• ISBN: 9781626726345

Jennifer Mathieu

Jennifer Mathieu is the author of Devoted, Afterward, The Liars of Mariposa Island, and The Truth About Alice, which won the Teen Choice Debut Author Award. Her 2017 novel, Moxie, was developed into a film by Amy Poehler for Netflix. Jennifer teaches high school English in Texas, where she lives in the Houston area with her husband and son.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

My English teacher, Mr. Davies, rubs a hand over his military buzz cut. There’s sweat beading at his hairline, and he puffs out his ruddy cheeks. He looks like a drunk porcupine.

The drunk part may be true. Even if it is before lunch on a Tuesday.

Let’s discuss the symbolism in line 12 of the poem, he announces, and I pick up my pen so I can copy down exactly what he says when he tells us what the gold light behind the blue curtains really means. Mr. Davies says he wants to discuss the symbolism, but that’s not true. When we have our unit test, he’ll expect us to write down what he told us in class word for word.

I blink and try to stay awake. Half the kids are messing with their phones, grinning faintly into their groins. I can sense my brain liquefying.

Vivian, what are your thoughts? Mr. Davies asks me. Of course.

Well, I say, folding in on myself and staring at the Xeroxed copy of the poem on my desk. Uh… My cheeks turn scarlet. Why does Mr. Davies have to call on me? Why not mess with one of the groin grinners? At least I’m pretending to pay attention.

Neither of us says anything for what feels like a third of my life span. I shift in my seat. Mr. Davies stares. I chew my bottom lip uncertainly. Mr. Davies stares. I search my brain for an answer, any answer, but with everyone’s eyes on me I can’t think straight. Finally, Mr. Davies gives up.

Lucy? he says, calling on the new girl, Lucy Hernandez, who’s had her hand up since he asked the question. He stares at her blankly and waits.

Well, Lucy starts, and you can tell she’s excited to get going, even sitting up a little straighter in her chair, "if you think about the reference the speaker makes in line 8, what I’m wondering is if the light doesn’t indicate, a, um, what would you call it … like a shift in the speaker’s understanding of…"

There’s a cough that interrupts her from the back of the room. At the tail end of the cough slip out the words, Make me a sandwich.

And then there’s a collection of snickers and laughs, like a smattering of applause.

I don’t have to turn around to know it’s Mitchell Wilson being an asshole, cheered on by his douche bag football friends.

Lucy takes in a sharp breath. Wait, what did you just say? she asks, turning in her seat, her dark eyes wide with surprise.

Mitchell just smirks at her from his desk, his blue eyes peering out from under his auburn hair. He would actually be kind of cute if he never spoke or walked around or breathed or anything.

I said, Mitchell begins, enjoying himself, make … me … a … sandwich. His fellow football-player minions laugh like it’s the freshest, most original bit of comedy ever, even though all of them have been using this line since last spring.

Lucy turns back in her seat, rolling her eyes. Little red hives are burning up her chest. That’s not funny, she manages softly. She slips her long black hair over her shoulders, like she’s trying to hide. Standing at the front of the room, Mr. Davies shakes his head and frowns.

If we can’t have a reasonable discussion in this classroom, then I’m going to have to end this lesson right now, he tells us. I want all of you to take out your grammar textbooks and start the exercises on pages 25 and 26. They’re due tomorrow. I swear he picks those pages blind. Who knows if we’ve even gone over the material.

As my classmates offer up a collective groan and I fish around in my backpack for my book, Lucy regains some sort of courage and pipes up. "Mr. Davies, that’s not fair. We were having a reasonable discussion. But they—she nods her head over her shoulder, unable to look in Mitchell’s direction again—are the ones who ruined it. I don’t understand why you’re punishing all of us." I cringe. Lucy is new to East Rockport High. She doesn’t know what’s coming.

Lucy, did I or did I not just announce to the class that it should begin the grammar exercises on pages 25 and 26 of the grammar textbook? Mr. Davies spits, more enthusiastic about disciplining Lucy than he ever seemed to be about the gold light behind the blue curtains.

Yes, but…, Lucy begins.

No, stop, Mr. Davies interrupts. Stop talking. You can add page 27 to your assignment.

Mitchell and his friends collapse into laughter, and Lucy sits there, stunned, her eyes widening as she stares at Mr. Davies. Like no teacher has ever talked to her like that in her life.

A beat or two later Mitchell and his friends get bored and settle down and all of us are opening our textbooks, surrendering ourselves to the assignment. My head is turned toward the words subordinate clauses, but my gaze makes its way toward Lucy. I wince a little as I watch her staring at her still-closed textbook like somebody smacked her across the face with it and she’s still getting her breath back. It’s obvious she’s trying not to cry.

When the bell finally rings, I grab my stuff and head out as fast as I can. Lucy is still in her seat, her head down as she slides her stuff into her backpack.

I spot Claudia making her way down the hall toward me.

Hey, I say, pulling my backpack over my shoulders.

Hey, she answers, shooting me the same grin she’s had since we became best friends in kindergarten, bonding over our shared love of stickers and chocolate ice cream. What’s happening?

I sneak a look to make sure Mitchell or one of his friends isn’t near me to overhear. We just got all this grammar homework. Mitchell was bugging that new girl, Lucy, and instead of dealing with him, Mr. Davies just assigned the entire class all these extra pages of homework.

Let me guess, Claudia says as we head down the hall, make me a sandwich?

Oh my God, however did you figure that one out? I answer, my voice thick with mock surprise.

Just a wild guess, says Claudia with a roll of her eyes. She’s tinier than me, the top of her head only reaching my shoulder, and I have to lean in to hear her. At 5′10″ and a junior in high school, I’m afraid I might still be growing, but Claudia’s been the size of a coffee-table tchotchke since the sixth grade.

It’s such bullshit, I mutter as we stop at my locker. And it’s not even original humor. Make me a sandwich. I mean, dude, you could at least come up with something that hasn’t been all over the Internet since we were in middle school.

I know, Claudia agrees, waiting as I find my sack lunch in the cavernous recesses of my messy locker. But cheer up. I’m sure he’ll grow up sooner or later.

I give Claudia a look and she smirks back. Way back when, Mitchell was just another kid in our class at East Rockport Middle and his dad was just an annoying seventh-grade Texas history teacher who liked to waste time in class by showing us infamous football injuries on YouTube, complete with bone breaking through skin. Mitchell was like a mosquito bite back then. Irritating, but easy to forget if you just ignored him.

Fast forward five years and Mr. Wilson managed to climb the Byzantine ranks of the East Rockport public school hierarchy to become principal of East Rockport High School, and Mitchell gained thirty pounds and the town discovered he could throw a perfect spiral. And now it’s totally acceptable that Mitchell Wilson and his friends interrupt girls in class to instruct them to make sandwiches.

Once we get to the cafeteria, Claudia and I navigate our way through the tables to sit with the girls we eat lunch with every day—Kaitlyn Price and Sara Gomez and Meg McCrone. Like us, they’re sweet, mostly normal girls, and we’ve known each other since forever. They’re girls who’ve never lived anywhere but East Rockport, population 6,000. Girls who try not to stand out. Girls who have secret crushes that they’ll never act on. Girls who sit quietly in class and earn decent grades and hope they won’t be called on to explain the symbolism in line 12 of a poem.

So, like, nice girls.

We sit there talking about classes and random gossip, and as I take a bite of my apple I see Lucy Hernandez at a table with a few other lone wolves who regularly join forces in an effort to appear less lonely. Her table is surrounded by the jock table and the popular table and the stoner table and every-other-variety-of-East-Rockport-kid table. Lucy’s table is the most depressing. She’s not talking to anyone, just jamming a plastic fork into some supremely sad-looking pasta dish sitting inside of a beat-up Tupperware container.

I think about going over to invite her to sit with us, but then I think about the fact that Mitchell and his dumb-ass friends are sitting smack in the center of the cafeteria, hooting it up, looking for any chance to pelt one of us with more of their lady-hating garbage. And Lucy Hernandez has to be a prime target given what just happened in class.

So I don’t invite her to sit with us.

Maybe I’m not so nice after all.

CHAPTER TWO

Our ancient tabby cat, Joan Jett, is waiting for me when I open the front door after school. Joan Jett loves to greet us when we come home—she’s more dog than cat that way—and she lives to meow and howl and get your attention, which my mother says makes her a good match for her namesake, the human Joan Jett, this woman who was part of an all-girl band in the 1970s called The Runaways before she started her own group. When Claudia and I were younger, we used to make videos of Joan Jett the cat dancing to songs of Joan Jett the singer.

I give Joan Jett a quick pet and then find a note on the counter from my mother. She could just text me, but she likes what she calls the tangible quality of paper.

Working late tonight. Meemaw and Grandpa said come over for dinner if you want. Pls fold laundry on my bed and put away. Love you. xoxoxo Mom

I’m old enough now to stay by myself if my mom has a late shift at the urgent care center where she works as a nurse, but when I was little and she had weird hours, Meemaw would pick me up from school, and I’d go to her house and eat a Stouffer’s frozen dinner with her and Grandpa, and then we’d all try to guess the answers on Wheel of Fortune before they’d tuck me into bed in the room that had been my mother’s when she was young. Meemaw had redecorated it by then in soft pinks and greens, not a trace of my mom’s old punk rock posters and stickers left, but I used to peek out the window of my mom’s old room and imagine her being young, being wild, being set on leaving East Rockport one day and never coming back. Even though she only managed half the plan, my mother’s youth still fascinates me.

Back in those days I’d drift off and, depending on how tired my mother was when she got home, I’d either wake up to my grandpa watching the Today show, or I’d be shaken awake in the middle of the night to make the ten-second walk back to our house, clutching my mom’s hand, catching a whiff of the minty, antiseptic smell that always follows her home from work. Nowadays I only head over to my grandparents’ house for dinner even though they still try to get me to spend the night like the old days.

My phone buzzes. Meemaw.

Hey, sweetie, I’m heating up chicken enchiladas, she tells me. Want to come over? Meemaw and Grandpa eat breakfast at 5, lunch at 11, and dinner at 4:45. I used to think it was because they’re old, but my mom says that’s how they’ve been all their lives and that when she moved out at eighteen she felt like a rebel for eating after dark.

Okay, I tell her, but I have to fold the laundry first.

Well, come on over when you’re done, she says.

I grab a piece of cheese from the fridge for a snack and answer a few texts from Claudia about how irritating her little brother is before I figure I should get the laundry over with. Joan Jett scampers off after me, wailing away as I head to the back bedroom where I find a mountain of laundry in the middle of my mother’s unmade bed. I start folding pastel-colored underpants into nice, neat squares and hanging damp bras up to dry in the bathroom. It’s strictly lady laundry. My dad passed away when I was just a baby after he crashed his motorcycle while driving the streets of Portland, Oregon—which was where he and my mom and I used to live. His name was Sam, and I know it’s kind of strange to say about my dad even if I can’t remember him, but from pictures I know he was kind of a total babe, with dirty-blond hair and green eyes and just the right amount of muscles to be attractive but not so many as to be creepy and gross.

My mom still misses him, and one night about a year or so ago when she’d had too much wine, she’d told me it was weird that she kept getting older but Sam would always be the same age. That’s how she referred to him, too. Sam. Not your dad but Sam, which is really who he was to her more than anything, I guess. Her Sam. Then she went to her room, and I could hear her crying herself to sleep, which is not my no-nonsense mom’s usual approach. Sometimes I feel guilty that I don’t miss him, but I can’t pull up even the tiniest sense memory. I was only eight months old when he died, and after it happened Mom and me moved back to East Rockport so my grandparents could help take care of me while my mom went back to school and finished her nursing degree. And now, sixteen years later, we’re still here.

I’m hanging up some of my mom’s simple sundresses when my eye catches on a fat, beat-up shoe box she keeps on her closet’s top shelf. In black Sharpie it’s labeled MY MISSPENT YOUTH. I slide the final dress into place, tease the shoe box out of its resting spot, and take it to my bedroom. I’ve looked in this box before. Back when Claudia and I went through our Joan Jett dancing cat video phase, I used to love to take down this box and study the contents, but I haven’t pawed through it in years.

Now I open it up and carefully spill the cassette tapes and old photographs and neon-colored leaflets and dozens of little photocopied booklets with titles like Girl Germs and Jigsaw and Gunk out onto my bed. I pick up a Polaroid of my mom where it looks like she was just a few years older than I am now, maybe nineteen or twenty. In the photograph, she has a platinum-blond streak in her long dark hair, and she’s wearing a tattered green baby doll dress and combat boots. She’s sticking her tongue out at the camera, and her arms are around the neck of another girl who has dark eyes and a piercing through her eyebrow. In black marker written down one of my mom’s arms are the words RIOTS NOT DIETS.

My mom doesn’t talk too much about her younger years before she met my dad in Portland, but when she does, she always grins a little with pride, maybe remembering how she graduated from high school and drove an ancient Toyota she’d bought with her own money to Washington State just because that’s where her favorite bands lived and played. Bands with names like Heavens to Betsy and Excuse 17. Bands made up almost entirely of girls who played punk rock and talked about equal rights and made little newsletters they referred to as zines.

They called themselves Riot Grrrls.

My mother was wild back then. Wild like with half her head shaved and black Doc Martens and purple lipstick the color of a serious bruise. Even though my mom is pretty relaxed compared to a lot of moms—like she’s always been up front with me about sex stuff and she doesn’t mind if I swear in front of her once in a while—it’s still hard to reconcile the girl in the Polaroid with the mom I know now. The mom in butterfly-covered, lavender nursing scrubs who sits down at the kitchen table once a month to balance her checkbook.

I shift positions to get more comfortable on my bed and stare at a page in one of the Riot Grrrl zines. It has a cutout of a vintage cartoon Wonder Woman with her hands on her hips, looking fierce. The girl who made the zine drew words coming out of Wonder Woman’s mouth, warning men not to mess with her when she’s walking down the street unless they want a smack to the face. I grin at the image. As I flip through the pages, I find myself wishing that Wonder Woman went to East Rockport High and that she was in all of the classes I have with Mitchell Wilson. When Joan Jett meows for her dinner, I have to force myself to pack the box up and tuck it back into my mom’s closet. I can’t explain why, exactly, but something about what’s inside the box makes me feel better. Understood somehow. Which is weird because Riot Grrrl was a million years ago, and none of those girls know me. But I can’t help but wish I knew them.

*   *   *

Meemaw has a rooster obsession. Roosters on dishtowels, roosters on plates, roosters made of ceramic walking the length of the kitchen windowsill like they’re part of a rooster parade. She even has salt and pepper shakers shaped like—guess what—roosters.

I take the salt shaker in my hand and raise an eyebrow at the rooster’s perpetual friendly grin.

Do roosters actually smile? I ask, sprinkling salt on my side serving of canned veggies.

Sure, says Meemaw. They’re very sociable.

My grandpa just grunts and digs his fork through his plate of Stouffer’s chicken enchiladas. How many roosters have you known personally, Maureen? he asks.

Several, says Meemaw, not skipping a beat, and Grandpa just sighs, but I know he loves that Meemaw never lets him have the last word.

I appreciate how utterly grandparentesque my grandparents are. I like listening to their banter, to their gentle teasing, to the way two people who have been together for over forty years communicate with each other. I like how my grandpa has funny little sayings that he trots out over and over again and delivers in a voice of authority. (Remember, Vivian, you can pick your friends, you can pick your nose, but you can’t pick your friend’s nose.) I like how Meemaw has never once solved a puzzle on Wheel of Fortune but still insists on watching it every night and yelling out whatever answers strike her in the moment. (Mr. Potato Head! Fried Green Tomatoes! Sour cream and onion potato chips!)

They’re cozy, basically.

But like most grandparents, they’re totally out of it when it comes to knowing what it’s like to be, like, a girl and sixteen and a junior in high school.

Anything exciting happen at school today? Meemaw asks, wiping the sides of her mouth with her napkin. I push my green beans around with my fork and consider my day and the homework still waiting for me in my backpack.

Nothing too exciting, I say. I got stuck with a bunch of extra work in English because Mitchell Wilson and his friends are jerks.

Grandpa frowns and Meemaw asks what I mean, so I find myself telling them about Mitchell’s stupid comment.

I don’t even understand what that means, says Meemaw. Why would he want someone to make him a sandwich?

I take a deep breath. He didn’t really want a sandwich, Meemaw, I say. It’s just, like, this stupid joke the boys use to try and say girls belong in the kitchen and they shouldn’t have opinions. My voice gets louder the more I talk.

I see. Well, that certainly wasn’t very nice of Mitchell, Meemaw offers, passing Grandpa the salt.

I shrug, briefly fantasizing about what it must be like to be retired and able to spend your days puttering around with your ceramic rooster collection, totally oblivious to the realities of East Rockport High School.

What he said… I pause and picture the bright red hives of embarrassment burning up all over Lucy Hernandez. Remembering makes me burn for a moment, too, from my scalp to the tips of my toes, but it’s not embarrassment I’m feeling. Well, I think it’s totally sexist. It feels good to say it out loud.

I suppose, I’d expect better manners from the principal’s son, says Meemaw, sliding past my last remark.

Can you imagine what Lisa would have done over something like that? my grandfather says suddenly, looking up from his enchiladas at my grandmother. I mean, can you even picture it?

I look over at Grandpa, curious. What? I ask. What would Mom have done?

I don’t even want to think about it, Meemaw says, holding her hand out like a crossing guard ordering us to stop.

Your mother wouldn’t have done just one thing, Grandpa continues, scraping his plate for one last bite. It would have been a list of stuff. She would have started a petition. Painted a big sign and marched around the school. Exploded in rage.

Of course my mother would have done all of those things. The tales of her teenage rebellion started long before she moved to the Pacific Northwest and took up with the Riot Grrrls. Like the time she showed up at East Rockport High with her hair dyed Manic Panic Siren’s Song blue the day after the principal announced the dress code would no longer allow unnatural hair colors. She got suspended for a week and my grandparents had to spend a fortune getting it covered up without my mom’s hair falling out. I briefly imagine what it must have felt like to walk down the main hallway of school with everyone staring at you because your hair is the color of a blue Fla-Vor-Ice. I cringe just thinking about it.

The problem was your mother was always looking for a fight, Meemaw continues before draining the rest of her sweet tea. She had more than her necessary share of moxie. It made things so difficult for her. And us, too, as much as we love her.

Yeah, I know, I say. I’ve heard this speech before. And maybe it did make things difficult for Meemaw and Grandpa, but the girl in the Polaroid picture from the MY MISSPENT YOUTH shoe box didn’t seem to find life so tough. She seemed to be having fun. She seemed to enjoyed starting battles, even if she didn’t always win.

The good news, Meemaw announces definitively, is that the rebellious gene seems to have been some strange mutation. She smiles at me and starts stacking the dirty

Reviews for Moxie

[Brittany · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

this was the exact book I needed, Tonight and when I was a teenager! I really hope it helps EVERYONE understand the importance of working to smash down walls and stop supporting the boy club mentality the world has so long supported!

[Amanda Leslie · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

So empowering and incredibly engaging for me to read about!

[Ana Rita · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

"Moxie" was a great book about a group of girls fighting against the mysoginistic rules of their high school, inspired by the Riot Grrrls movement in the 90's.

Although it was similar to another book I read a couple of years ago with the same theme, "Moxie" was a good read. It was empowering, full of girl power and I really liked the idea of making anonymous 'zines and leaving them in the bathroom for the girls to find, kind of like an anonymous feminist group.

Furthermore, I think the characters were interesting and I was happy with the main character's development. Honestly, she was a lot like me in high school and I think we could have been friends if she was a real person.

I was just not into the romance, I think it was unnecessary and took away from the main plot of the book. Additionally, I was missing some diversity: although some of the side characters are queer and characters of color, and it's clear that every girl is welcome, I was expecting a little more conversation on what d0es that mean, so the message of the book would seem more inclusive.

[Kururu · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

A sweet book about feminism from the perspective of white teenager girl.

[howifeelaboutbooks · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I cannot rave about this book enough. I keep thinking “I wish I had this when I was in high school” but honestly, it seems just as important to me as an adult. It’s inspirational, moving, and will make you feel empowered. Beautiful writing, wonderful story. Highly recommend for EVERYONE to read.

[barnesbookshelf · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This book is a narrative of baby's first feminism. If I had read this in high-school, I would've been so inspired and amped up. Being an adult who has studied feminism for years at this point, I still love it for the younger generation. I greatly appreciate that Mathieu included women of color and how easily white women and girls ignore intersectionality due to privilege. This book is definitely a top intro to feminism book.

[girliebookloverr · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

“Some girls are dancing in the corners, moving their bodies with the freedom that comes when no boy is watching you.”

-5 stars-

Tropes:
- Feminist!!
-Girl power
-New boy romance
- Anonymous writer
-Bad girl/rebel girl

Spice:
1/5

AHHH! Every teen needs to read this!! I'm not kidding, this literally is the best feminist book I've read... EVER!
Viv is so relatable and I can really relate to her thinking (Being a high school age girl living in Texas). This book made me realize that girls are so much stronger then boys think. I think that this book has some really great messages, that everyone should hear about.
The writing was amazing! I love how Jennifer made it modern and actually references modern day bands and songs.
Another great plus of this book, is the romance. The book shows a very good example of a healthy relationship. I like that not everything is perfect in their relationship, because that's not real life.
I'd highly recommend this to anyone and everyone in need of a good book that has strong examples of exceptional girl power!
-Side note- I'm for sure going to be watching the Netflix movie, I can't get enough of Moxie!

“Maybe some things are worth getting in trouble over”

[artemisa-191823 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

nice little read about a current teenager that got inspired by her mom's 90's feminist 'zines and uses the same ideas to fight the bullying in her school

[decaturmamaof2 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Loved this story of a young woman in a small Texas town who's inspired by the Riot Grrrrl movement of the 90s.

[secondhandrose_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I absolutely loved this YA novel about teenage Texan girls finding their feminist voices through social action in their high school.

[akbouterse · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This was nice and it was easy to read. The only reason it took me so long was that I left my physical copy at home when I went back to school and only just now decided to finish it by checking out the audiobook from my library. There were some parts of this book I couldn’t help but role my eyes at. Maybe it’s because I did go to a big city high school but some of the sexism portrayed in this book felt very exaggerated. I don’t want to say cliche because I 100% believe that the sort of things described in this book do happen but in my experience, it’s more subtle sexism that is more common and even harder to fight against because it’s more easily passed off as being a part of life. I do think I was a little bit too old for this book. I think it’s really good girls have a book like this to read that portrays feminism as a really good thing and tells them to aspire to make the world a better place and stand up for themselves. This is a good book I just think I got to it a bit too late.

[needmoreshelves · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

This book made me mad, and it made me sad, and it made me cheer. This book reminded me of how exciting it is to be a feminist. This book celebrates female relationships, and shows how powerful they can be. This book is not perfect, but it's pretty dang good, and it makes me look forward to more great novels by this talented author.

"This is what it means to be a feminist. Not a humanist or an equalist or whatever. But a feminist. It's not a bad word. After today it might be my favorite word. Because really all it is is girls supporting each other and wanting to be treated like human beings in a world that's always finding ways to tell them they're not."

[mamzel_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I loved, loved, loved this book.

Vivian is the daughter of a single mom and lives in a small town in Texas next door to her grandparents. Her mother had left the town and lived in Seattle until her husband was killed in an accident involving his motorcycle. She returned to East Rockport with her young daughter. While she was in Seattle she was a fan of the Riot Grrls music movement and feminism. She kept a box of memorabilia from that time of her life which Vivian found and read the zines her mother produced.

East Rockport is a stereotypical small Texas town for which teen life revolves around the high school football team. And true to the stereotype, the team members are arrogant jerks who get away with the most abhorrent sexist behavior. Vivian has had enough and decides to secretly produce her own zine which she leaves in the girls' bathrooms. She creates a quiet storm of feminism which eventually takes hold bringing to light the inequalities of the student culture.

I loved that Vivian used her voice and raised issues that everyone was too timid to bring to light. I loved that her mother took her side and supported her since she was Vivian's main inspiration. I was not aware of the musical groups quoted in the book but the author helpfully gave us a list of places to go and titles to listen to.

[smokler_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Super fun book about a teen-feminist revolution in an East Texas High School. Think Legend of Billie Jean with zines instead of high speed chases from the cops.

A great read I finished in two days. Worth it!!!!

[vokram-944968 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Wow! This book really surprised me. It's basically a feminist manifesto for high school girls in the 2010's. This book was well written. I didn't notice any typos or grammatical errors which is a joy in these days of self-published novels. It has a very sweet romance but nothing heavy. The story was absolutely great! There are a lot of great songs and music mentioned in the book which I played while I was reading that made for a great accompaniment. I got caught up and read it in one sitting. I would recommend this book to anyone but particularly to young women.

Go Moxie grrrls!

[maowangvater · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Inspired by a box of her mother’s teenage memorabilia labeled “MY MISPENT YOUTH,” filled with “Riot Grrl zines,” and cassette tapes of Bikini Kill and The Runaways, Vivian Carter surreptitiously begins to undermine the patriarchal culture of her small town Texas high school. She’s sick of the way boys, especially some members of the football team, feel that they can berate and even grope their female classmates with impunity. Viv anonymously pastes together a zine of her own titled Moxie. The cover of issue #1 has a vintage photo of a female boxer with the tagline, “Moxie Girls Fight Back!” Getting to school early she places a small stack of photocopied issues in each of the school’s girls’ bathrooms.

When girls find them, they want to know the source, or if Moxie is some kind of secret club. but Viv keeps mum. When the school administration begins to discipline girls for dress code violations, while ignoring what male students wear, the next issue of Moxie asks the girls to wear bathrobes to school on Tuesday. So many girls do, that the administration is overwhelmed, and gives up on dress code inspections. The next issue of Moxie is a flyer for a bake sale to benefit the school’s girls’ soccer team. Viv didn’t make it, and she realizes that Moxie has taken on a life of its own among the other students.

Mathieu’s tale of girl and student power rises to the climax of an almost completely nonviolent—groping boys being the exception to the nonviolence—student rebellion against a misogynist school administration. But this young adult novel is more than just an anti-patriarchy parable. Vivian’s year includes a lot of warm family bonding, adjusting to life as a teenager, a sweet romance between Viv and her new boyfriend, and her adjustment to changing roles with an expanding circle of new friends while maintaining her relationship with her existing best friend from middle school. Mathieu’s plots, subplots, and her characters are all both realistic and satisfying. This is a young adult novel that succeeds in all aspects.

[jonez-6 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

3.0

Predictable, but a great story of empowerment for young girls. One that touched my former Riot Grrl heart.

[bibliosk8er_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

In the last 3 years of picking up YA books this is the only one I've enjoyed.

I work with teens as a librarian. Teens in our area are fantastic, smart, focussed, high-achievers. I love 'em, but sometimes I wonder where their fire is. During these times especially I wonder where the punk rock is? Where's the outrage, or more importantly, where are the artistic expressions of outrage.

When I saw this book on our shelves, the references to Riot Grrrls got my attention. Was someone actually writing about some badasses? Was someone writing about teens doing more than developing their personal brand? Something more than kids in a boarding school saving the world?

The answer is yes. This book is highly relevant to our times. I'd recommend it highly. The truth is there are lots of outraged and engaged teens, all over the place, but they express it all a bit differently than we did back in the 1980s, which is fine. This book helped me understand that.

[carolesrandomlife · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I really ended up enjoying this book! This was a review book that completely slipped through the cracks and was left to sit somewhat forgotten. By the time I pulled it out of the pile, I didn't completely remember why I had been drawn to it in the first place. I wasn't too far into the book when I realized just how good this story really was and I had a fantastic time with it.

It has been a long time since I was a teenager or went to high school. A very long time. My youngest daughter is currently finishing up her final year of high school and my oldest is a young adult so I have lived with teenagers for quite a few years so I feel like I know what they are like and I thought that this book was filled with realistic teenagers which is one of the things that I really really enjoyed about it.

I wish that the things that happen at Vivian's high school during the course of this book didn't happen. I know that they happened when I was in school and I don't think it is too much of a stretch to think that they still happen quite often in certain areas. I was mad. I was disappointed. And I was disappointed. How could the adults let these things happen and not speak up? How was it that none of the parents of daughters from the school were demanding change? The one thing that I would have loved to see happen in this book would be for Vivian, or one of her friends, to tell the adult in their life exactly what was going on.

These girls didn't let others fight their battles though. Vivian sparks a movement that eventually works its way across her school. I was so happy to see these girls stand up and fight the things that were wrong together. It was a very uplifting message about how change can happen if you get enough people to stand up with you.

I listened to the audiobook version of this book which turned out to be a fantastic choice because Suzy Jackson did a wonderful job with the story. She really was the voice of Vivian and I thought that she did was able to bring this story to life. All of the character voices were really well done and I had no problems listening to this book for hours at a time.

I would recommend this book to others. I had a great time watching this wonderful group of characters fight for a cause that was easy to get behind. I look forward to reading more of Jennifer Mathieu's work in the future.

I received a digital review copy of this book from Macmillan Children's Publishing Group via NetGalley and borrowed a copy of the audiobook from my local library.

[wellreadcatlady · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

THIS BOOK. I've been interested in this book for awhile because 1) Houston author 2) it involves Riot Grrrl and feminism 3) AMY POEHLER bought the movie rights 4) the hilariously missing the point review by Kirkus review & the 5) shitstorm that followed the review calling it out. So of course I jumped at the chance to read it in advance through Net Galley and I'm ready to gush about how great this book is.

In a small town in Texas the girls put up with a lot of sexist behavior from the boys and the administration doesn't do a thing about it. Vivian reaches her limit and wants to let the girls know that this isn't ok, but Viv is a bit of a shy girl that likes to go unnoticed, so inspired by her mom's Riot Grrrl past she creates a zine (NOT A NEWSLETTER!) called Moxie to call out the bullshit going on at her high school. The girls in her school respond to the zine and Moxie becomes more than the zine that Viv created, it becomes anything the girls need or want it to be that unites the girls.

What I really liked about Moxie is how Vivian is portrayed. She is like a lot of girls in high school and doing something that draws attention to her is really intimidating, but she finds a way to do so in her own way. Viv questions how involved she wants to get in her own creation, because she's scared of the consequences. I liked that the Riot Grrrl movement was included, critiqued, and built upon. Moxie is intersectional feminism, something that Riot Grrrl kind of dropped the ball on. As a fan of Riot Grrrl music, I would of liked more of the history and bands explored than Bikini Kill, but that is not the main focus of the book. Moxie also looks at high school relationships, Viv dates a boy that is new to her high school and is not like the other guys at her school, he isn't perfect and doesn't always understand why Viv is upset with how the school is and he doesn't always say the right thing, but he tries. That is an important theme in the book, the characters and the club are not perfect, but they are trying.

[acargile-1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

A novel that all girls should read, Moxie presents a realistic picture of life as a female. Yes, there are some exaggerations, but everything that happens to these girls happens to girls every day--just not as blatantly as it does in this novel. I will say that I have no doubt there are some schools tucked away that have this same attitude.

Vivian Carter is disgusted by her school. The boys are allowed to be verbally and physically disrespectful to females, and no one says anything to them because they are athletes. Viv always keeps her head down and just accepts that “this” is just how it is--boys will be boys. She often goes through a box that has her mother’s “wild” past in it when she was a punk rock Riot Grrrl in the 90s. On a whim, inspired by her mom’s box of memories, Viv makes an anonymous feminist zine asking girls to stick together. The first request is to paint stars on your hand for a particular day to show solidarity. A few girls and the new guy, Seth, participate.

Even if some girls see and feel the discrimination, painting stars accomplishes nothing except let others know who you are; therefore, what can actually be done to change things? Viv continues to make zines challenging girls and some come up with their own activities to help each other. She has to be careful because her best friend isn’t very interested in these feminist ideas and the female head of the class explains that they should remain feminine females and act better. If not all girls believe they are being treated unfairly and should fight back, the desire to improve the school will have a short life span. On top of that, the worst male is the principal’s son! He is also threatening to suspend the people who are causing disruption to the school.

I know people roll their eyes and have bad feelings when they hear the word feminist. It’s a great marketing campaign that has lead women to support men instead of women and roll their eyes at the desire to garner respect and fairness for women. Are there problems with the story? Yes--it’s almost too much. Any good males included or are they all bashed? Viv’s boyfriend makes sure to insist that Viv understand that not all guys are like these jerks. There is not male bashing--just bashing of stereotypical behavior and snickers that are considered okay for guys to say and do. If you are female--read it! If you are male--read it! It’s not the greatest novel written about this subject, but it’s an appropriate introduction to feminism.

[tamaranewman · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Amazing. Perfect. Such a great read for young feminists. I could talk about this all day. It was everything I wanted and everything a young girl needs.

[jess_reads · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This is the book I wish I'd read as a teenager. I was unapologetically feminist growing up, but had no idea what a Riot Grrrl was, no idea that there were waves of feminist thought, and no idea that others might be just as tired as I was of the double standards throughout school. Viv feels real and flawed, fumbling around in her anger, taking a stand, and finding friends along the way. (I love the constant references to punk music and have definitely made a playlist as a result.)

Mathieu makes sure to include other resources and history at the end of the book for context, pointing readers to other resources, and ways to fight back against sexism and injustice. Feeling empowered? Great! Let's talk intersectionality. Let's talk accountability. Let's talk activism.

Ultimately, MOXIE's message is: It's easy for the powerful squelch dissent when the voices are few and frightened; it's impossible to stop the roars when we stand together in solidarity. (Because Moxie girls fight back!)

[edgoldberg · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Moxie by Jennifer Mathieu is a girl power book. Good Vivian, sixteen years old, is going to East Rockport (Texas) High School. The only thing that matters here is football and football players who can get away with anything, including verbally and physically abusing girls in the school. Through a series of events Vivian realizes how screwed up it is and, taking a page from her mother's rebellious teen year, decides to do something about it.

Of course, there's the insecurity of breaking out of character. There's also the 'new boy' who she has a crush on. But there's also the Audre Lorde quote, "Your silence will not protect you." which spurs Vivian forward.

Moxie is a totally enjoyable book about girl power. Maybe a little hoaky at times, but I really enjoyed it.

[olegalca · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I was given a free advanced copy of this book in exchange for my honest review.

The story of a high school in Texas that completely caters to the boys' football team and lets the players get away with murder while at the same time harassing the girls about dress codes etc. I wish the book had been a little longer because I felt that there were opportunities missed to develop some of the peripheral characters but all in all it was a great book and should serve as an example of what girls can do if they come together to protest inequality and abuse.

[texasbooklover · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

YA FICTION
Jennifer Mathieu
Moxie: A Novel
Roaring Brook Press
Hardcover, 978-1-6267-2635-2, (also available as an e-book and on Audible), 336 pgs., $17.99
September 19, 2017

“Dutiful” Vivian is a junior at East Rockport High. She’s a “nice, normal” girl who tries to stay out of the spotlight, enduring another school year “like a long stretch of highway.” Vivian’s mom, Lisa, keeps a shoebox on the top shelf of her closet labeled “My Misspent Youth,” filled with old zines and photos of her Riot Grrrl days, punked-out in baby-doll dresses with combat boots, half her head shaved, “Riots not diets” inked down one arm. Lisa is a nurse now and wears lavender scrubs covered in butterflies, but when Vivian is upset, Lisa’s mementos of her youth comfort Vivian, even if she doesn’t yet understand why.

One day a boy interrupts a girl voicing her opinion in class one time too many with “Make me a sandwich” and something in Vivian ignites. She’s had enough of the humiliating dress code checks (while the boys wear T-shirts with “Great Legs—When Do They Open?” printed on them), the “bump ’n’ grab” in the hallways (the girls should take this assault and battery as “a compliment”), East Rockport’s “Most Fuckable” bracket posted online. Faced with inaction from the administration, Vivian creates Moxie, a zine for girls to educate, exhort, and inspire. Eventually threatened with suspension and expulsion, Vivian starts a movement that both scares and excites her.

Moxie: A Novel is new young adult fiction from Houston’s Jennifer Mathieu. Vivian’s fast-paced, first-person narration uncannily channels the sometimes insecure-and-anxious, sometimes righteous-and-incandescent, rapid-cycling emotions of teenagers (Vivian: “I am certain that I’m the first person on Earth to ever feel this awake and alive”). In the beginning her timidity is frustrating, but you’ll soon be fist-pumping and cheering her on. We care about the well-developed, relatable, sympathetic characters of East Rockport High, and we hope the entitled creeps get what’s coming to them.

Mathieu skillfully skewers Friday Night Lights culture; during the mandatory pep rallies, her characters “hide toward the back, like people who only go to church on Christmas.” Moxie is often funny. The local funeral home sports a sign that says, “Don’t text and drive. We can wait!”

Mathieu’s own interest in feminism was kindled by a high school teacher who once called her a “feminazi” during class, so “the joke is on you. Revenge is best served cold, you jerk,” she writes in the novel’s dedication. The Author’s Note at the end of the book includes a list of online resources and reading recommendations.

Kudos to Moxie’s design and marketing teams. The book jacket and interior style take a cue from Vivian’s creation, bringing the style of the zine alive for readers. The laudatory blurbs included with the advance review copy are all from girls between the ages of fourteen and eighteen. Amy Poehler’s Paper Kite production company has acquired the film rights to Moxie.

Although a fun, quick read, Moxie challenges assumptions and divisions masquerading as tradition. It is an encouragement, a comfort, an inspiration, an education, and a call to action. Refuse to sublimate objectification; stake your claim.

moxiegirlsfightback.tumblr.com

Originally published in Lone Star Literary Life.

[ewyatt_16 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Moxie Girls Fight Back! Viv has always been a good, rule-following girl at her football crazy Texas high school. But she is getting fed up and when a spirited new girl moves to town and encounters some of the harassment that is business as usual at the high school, Viv is fed up. Looking to her mom's Riot Grrrl days for inspiration, Viv launches an underground zine called Moxie. It allows like-minded people to find each other and work together to push back against some of the arbitrary rules and do some patriarch busting. From decorating their hands to wearing bathrobes to school to a school-wide walkout, these Moxie girls (and their allies) are taking action to make big changes. Each character comes to their view and place related to feminism in their own time and own their own terms. A readable, empowering, and fun Girl Power read.