My Big Nose and Other Natural Disasters: A Novel

By Sydney Salter

“Simultaneously painful and hilarious . . . Captures the awkwardness of adolescence while driving home a message about self-acceptance” (Publishers Weekly).
 
It’s the end of junior year, and the Summer of Passion is about to begin. At least that’s Jory Michaels’s plan, as she starts exploring the possibilities of her future—and the possibility of scoring a boyfriend. Only one obstacle seems to stand in the way of her happiness—her curvy, honking, bumpy nose, or as she calls it, Super Schnozz . . .
 
Jory takes a job delivering wedding cakes to save up for a nose job at the end of the summer, just in time for senior year. She even keeps a book filled with magazine cutouts of perfect noses to show the doctor. But nothing is ever easy for accident-prone Jory—and before she knows it, her Summer of Passion falls apart faster than the delivery van she crashes. In this hilarious and heartbreaking novel, Sydney Salter delivers a story about broadening your horizons, accepting yourself, and finding love right under your nose.
 
“Teens will enjoy Jory’s comic self-deprecation.” —Booklist

• Language: English
• Publisher: Open Road Integrated Media
• Release date: Apr 6, 2009
• ISBN: 9780547488967

Sydney Salter

SYDNEY SALTER is the author of My Big Nose and Other Natural Disasters and Jungle Crossing. She lives in Utah. www.sydneysalter.com

Book preview

Chapter One

June: Summer of Passion?

It all comes down to my nose.

Good old Great-Grandpa Lessinger’s famous nose. The one they used to joke about until it turned out that I didn’t grow into my nose like they’d all hoped, and probably prayed, even though we’re not exactly a churchgoing family. My parents worship at the Caughlin Club—you know, the gods and goddesses of good golf swings, cute tennis skirts, prestigious addresses, and beautiful, gifted progeny.

I don’t fit in.

My eyes are muddy brown while everyone else in the family has eyes that rival the color of Lake Tahoe. Sure, I’ve got the blond hair, but mine is curly and more brown than blond (though Mom insists I’m blond like the rest of them). Mom’s is more a Platinum #305, but she’ll never admit to it. It’s just a conditioning rinse, she always says. Right.

And it’s just a nose.

If only I were some brilliant scholar who’d written six novels, created my own Web-based business, and spoke fluent Chinese. But no. I didn’t even take any AP classes junior year, and I still have a B average.

I’m ordinary.

Evidence: last night’s annual Reno High Awards for Students Who Are Actually Doing Impressive Things. I’d sat with my parents, craning my neck so I could see Tyler Briggs—who received an award for his charity work—sitting three rows behind me. My younger brother, Finn, popped up for his seven hundredth award of the night, Most Excellent French Student. He’d already won Most Soccer Goals Scored by a Freshman, Best Freshman GPA, and the Freshman Citizenship Plaque. Swoons, sighs, and giggles echoed all over the auditorium; the girls sitting next to me decided Finn should get awards for Best Legs, Best Smile, and like Biggest Studliest Cutie ever. Like that makes any sense! Then Buddy Dickenson, Dad’s Mr. Country Club golfing partner, leaned forward and said, Are you sure Jory isn’t adopted? She hasn’t been up there once. He broke into his ex-smoker guffaws. My dad laughed, but my mom pursed her lips and glanced at me real quick. I buried my nose—my long, lumpy nose—in the program. Mr. Dickenson and his stupid booming voice. Had Tyler heard him?

I looked up only when Tyler received some ski team honor.

Afterward, I stood in the auditorium with my friends, nibbling a stale sugar cookie and sipping too-sweet punch, while my parents lingered near the stage accepting congratulations for having birthed the truly amazing Finn Michaels.

It’s going to be the best summer ever. Hannah’s short blond pigtails bounced like an anime character’s. We have no worries. She fanned herself with her certificates for Outstanding Community Service, Super School Spirit, and Best Poetry. We can relax and really discover our passions.

Like getting into college? Getting real work experience? Megan had already taken her SATs, twice, and talked nonstop about early-admissions this and AP-credits that. Plus, she’d lined up an internship with the U.S. Attorneys’ Office. Tonight she’d dressed like a TV lawyer—silky blouse tucked into a short skirt, long dark hair pulled into a messy bun.

No, silly. Hannah flapped her certificates at Megan. Fun stuff!

Both of us were a little sick of Megan’s I’m-so-done-with-high-school attitude, especially when we still had a whole year left. Megan had changed a lot since the three of us had bonded on the first day of freshman year, sitting on the cement steps, eating homemade sandwiches, watching the kids who knew better head off campus for lunch. Yup, we were quite the trio: Megan with purple orthodontia, zero boobs, and acne; Hannah with a back brace for her scoliosis; and me with the Nose. We spent hours dreaming up popularity ploys—the worst resulting in disastrous sophomore-year cheerleading tryouts (Megan got stuck halfway into her splits; Hannah couldn’t stop giggling; I fell during a lift and had to wear a Band-Aid on my nose for an entire week).

Well, I said, I know my passion. His name is Tyler Briggs. I looked around real quick to make sure he hadn’t heard me. Oblivious, as usual. Despite the ninety-degree heat, Tyler wore a starched buttoned-up shirt, an art deco tie, and the butt-hugging khaki pants that had once distracted me so much I’d slammed my forehead on Hannah’s open locker. I watched his mother rake her long red nails though his wavy blond hair in a way that I’d only fantasized about. A giggling group of sophomores—the ones who frequently fawned over Finn—hovered nearby.

"I mean passion in the creative sense of the word. Hannah shook her head at me. Meg’s right. You do have boy issues."

Duh. Megan cut her eyes at me, then Tyler.

You have to love yourself first, you know. Hannah put her hand over her heart as if pledging allegiance to herself—something she actually does. I tried it once, but Finn and his friends saw me; I endured weeks of Pledge Allegiance to Jory jokes.

No need to go all peace, love, and yoga on me. I glanced over at Tyler, who smiled all sweet, shy, and adorable as his dad clapped him on the back. I totally have a plan.

Megan gave me the Look that my mother must have taught her. Too bad they didn’t give out certificates for that kind of thing; instead, Megan had gotten a stack of academic awards. I was surprised they hadn’t given her a certificate for tutoring me in Algebra II.

"I have an amazing plan."

I sort of had a plan: to catch up on my beauty sleep. God knows I needed some. Beauty, that is. Although I had to admit that eight hours of sleep a night for a year had done nothing for my beauty—if anything, it had made my brain simply more alert and aware that I lacked beauty or any other distinguishing features, skills, or appealing qualities.

And so there I was on the first day of summer vacation. Awake. With a big nose, no passion in my life—in the creative sense of the word—and all signs still pointing to me dying a virgin. Guinness World Records’ entry: Jory Michaels, World’s Oldest Virgin. Or maybe it would be for World’s Most Unlovable Human. Or both.

In the kitchen, my parents argued at a few decibels above any possibility of ignoring them, and the smell of roast chicken with wild rice and broccoli wafted into my room. Ah, yes. Day 6 of Mom’s Dinner For Breakfast diet. You see, you can eat anything you want, only in reverse. In reality, you eat almost nothing except a big bowl of cereal at night because roast meat just about makes you want to hurl at seven o’clock in the morning. I groaned and pulled my pillow over my head, but I could still hear them arguing. So much for sleeping in. I kicked my comforter off, rolled out of bed using Hannah’s yoga-inspired healthy-back method, and stretched. Like that would make me feel any better.

Great start to summer vacation. I pulled my pajama bottoms out of my butt and padded down the hallway, past framed photos of Finn posing with a soccer ball, Finn sitting on a boulder at Lake Tahoe, Mom holding baby Finn, Mom and Dad’s wedding, Mom and Dad grinning on a cruise ship, and one little five-by-seven photo of me in first grade. I don’t do anything worthy of the family hall of fame. Or maybe it’s just that I’m not photogenic enough. Or it might be because I’ve destroyed most of my school pictures since George Grobin called me elephant nose in the second grade.

I plopped myself down on a kitchen stool. Oh, Mom. But I wanted lasagna for breakfast.

Don’t you even start with me. Mom opened the oven and grimaced as she read the meat thermometer. I might be late for my first client because I’ve been up since five A.M. preparing you a delicious din— She stopped.

"Ha! Caught you! You were going to say dinner. I flipped my hair back and forth. You said dinner. You said dinner."

Mom shot me the Look while Dad gathered his briefcase, keys, pager, planner, and cell phone. I’ll grab something at work, he said, smiling at me. Great reason to get a summer job, Jory: office doughnuts.

Evan, you can’t eat doughnuts! You said you’d support my new family-eating plan. Mom shook her wooden spoon before wiping her sweaty forehead with the back of her oven mitt. Oh, fine. I’ll save the chicken for dinner. Just this once.

Dad squeezed my shoulder and whispered, "We will triumph over this one, honey. She’s breaking. Won’t be long." He kissed my forehead, then blew a kiss to Mom.

After the door to the garage slammed shut with an echoing thud, I jumped up to grab a box of cereal.

No, you don’t. We can have the leftover pizza Finn and his friends ordered.

I spread the Living section of the paper out in front of me and glanced over the comics. Mom. Pizza is not a diet food.

"It’s not a diet. It’s a family-eating plan. Mom slumped down on a stool and put her head on her arms. Oh, God, I’m exhausted. Whoever invented this die—I mean, eating plan—was a damn insomniac."

I shoveled a spoonful of crunchy delicious-for-breakfast cereal into my mouth while watching Mom wrinkle her perfect little nose. You look good, Mom. You look like a mom.

She pouted. I don’t want to look like a mom. Oh, never mind. I’ll have grapefruit for breakfast.

Ahh, yes. Sweet, or should I say, sour, memories of wacky diet number forty-seven. I scooped up another bite but slopped milk down my chin onto the newspaper. Mom dieted like Greg LeMond had trained for the Tour de France.

Jory, you have no idea what it feels like to— Mom looked away. She must’ve remembered the Nose. I’m just tired. She rummaged for a grapefruit in our overstuffed fruit-and-veggie bin. Your dad’s right, you know. You should get a job this summer.

Finn doesn’t have to get a job.

Finn keeps busy with soccer. Besides, his coach is already talking about his scholarship potential. And after last night—

I get it. Super Schnozz has to work harder than the Nice Noses. A cartoon popped into my head, captioned: Super Schnozz. Unable to awe people with her beauty. Unable to wow them with her intelligence. But if you need to identify an unusual odor, it’s Super Schnozz to the rescue. Ah, that could be my passion. I could become a clever comics mogul. Hero to the proboscisly overendowed everywhere. Except I can’t draw.

Jory? Are you listening? Mom whapped the classifieds on the counter. You might find a summer job quite rewarding. As if she didn’t constantly complain about her rewarding work as a mortgage specialist!

I don’t know where to start. I glanced down at all the itty-bitty squares of print. Aren’t these all for old people?

Mom grabbed a handful of cereal out of the box and munched it noisily as she poured a cup of coffee. Start with things you like to do.

I flipped to the Ts for Television Critic but there were only ads for telemarketers. While fifteen dollars an hour sounded pretty good, having people call me nasty names and hang up on me all day would do nothing for my self-esteem. Although, maybe some cute guy would like the sound of my voice and fall deeply in love with me over the phone . . .

What about baby-sitting? Mom stirred a spoonful of sugar into her coffee, a sure sign that any dieting attempt was over for at least three days.

Uh, no. I’m not spending my summer washing sticky hands and watching kiddie TV without even the possibility of seeing a cute guy. Unless the guy they paid to cut the lawn was totally hot and he saw me and, you know, had to have me. Can the desire to lose your virginity be a passion, in the creative sense of the word? I could totally see not-until-I’m-married Hannah taking a deep cleansing breath and closing her eyes if I even asked.

I could work at the mall. Except not at the food court. Yuck. Maybe I could sell shoes? I love shoes. I’m always noticing people’s shoes. And then I’d get a discount. How great would that be? I looked through the Retail section of the classifieds, but everything said experience required.

This is so stupid. How hard could it be to grab a size seven and tell someone they look fabulous? Hard enough for me, I guess. I try really hard not to lie. Ever (if possible). It’s the Pinocchio thing. I can’t take any chances.

Well, what else do you like to do? Work with me, Jory. Please.

Sleep. Maybe there’s some sleep study up at UNR that I could enroll in?

The Look.

I flipped past the automotive, bookkeeping, casino, and construction jobs. Here’s something. I read it aloud (don’t ask me why).

DRIVER. Local deliveries.

PT + some weekends. Clean

MVR. Competitive hourly

wage. Katie 555-4653.

"Jory driving? That’s pretty hilarious." Finn strutted into the kitchen, texting one of his girl-fans, looking like he’d gotten all of my beauty sleep.

Honey, you know—Mom crinkled her nose—I’m not so sure it’s a good idea.

"Why? It was an accident. That’s why they call them accidents!"

Chapter Two

The Job Interview

Dappled sunshine sparkled through the trees as I drove my mom’s minivan down by the river looking for Flowers and Cakes by Katie. I made two wrong turns before I finally found the little pink and blue house near the McKinley Arts and Culture Center. It looked like something Hansel and Gretel would wander into, except it was in a rundown neighborhood, not a scary woods. I pulled up in front of an accountant’s office a couple of buildings away; I didn’t want anyone to see that I was parallel-parking challenged. After all, I was applying for a job in the driving industry.

I was still slightly shocked that Mom had let me drop her off at work early and borrow the minivan. Like I keep saying, it was an accident! I thought I was hitting the brakes, but I was hitting the gas instead. It was only in the movie-theater parking lot, and I totally blame the guy for looking like Tyler Briggs. Really, it was no big deal. Except that I lost my car. One little mistake and my car becomes too expensive to insure. (You’d think the Mercedes I hit would’ve had a sturdier bumper!) All I have left of my sweet-sixteen dream is the personalized license plate: JORRIDE. I also have to put up with the joy-ride jokes my dad makes every time I get behind the wheel—even when I drive up the hill to the grocery store or Starbucks.

Parallel parking in seven easy steps. In the middle of the steering wheel, I’d stuck the sticky note with the instructions I’d copied off the Internet. Usually it’s pretty easy to avoid parallel parking in Reno, which is nice for those of us who’d failed that portion of our driving tests more than three times but fewer than five.

SIX EASY STEPS TO PARALLEL PARKING, JORY STYLE

Signal. (Of course!)

Make sure your back bumper is even with the other car’s bumper. (Simple.)

Back up slowly, cranking the wheel toward the curb. Lurch. (Slowly being the key word.)

When your front door is even with the rear bumper, turn the wheel away from the curb. (No problem, unless your rear tire is stuck against the curb. Scrape. Ignore the violent beeping from the rear sensors Mom had installed just for you. Repeat steps 1 through 4. Again. Third time is the charm, or something. Maybe it’s the fourth. Give yourself more space. Okay, try a different parking place—this one is cursed. Master steps 1 through 4.)

Slowly back into the space.

Straighten the wheel and center the car. You should be less than a foot from the curb.

It was only after I’d jumped out and clicked the locks that I noticed the minivan stuck far into the street; I also noticed that the car behind me had a nice paint job, so I just walked away.

Okay, time to look calm, cool, and collected. I took in a big, deep breath like Hannah always does, but I still felt all twitchy. With a businesslike stride, I walked down the block to Flowers and Cakes by Katie.

My parents wanted me to get a job so I could learn to be responsible and all that blah, blah, blah. They thought I could buy another used car and pay for my own insurance. What they didn’t realize was that I had another kind of insurance I wanted to purchase: I wanted to ensure I’d have a better life by buying a brand-new nose. If I got this job, I could become a member of the Nice Nose Club in time for senior year. All I needed was approximately five thousand dollars and two weeks of recovery time, according to all the new-nose sites on the Internet. If I used my own money, Mom couldn’t say, Absolutely not. You’re beautiful just the way you are. (Her standard line whenever I mentioned plastic surgery.) She’d have to let me do it.

Super Schnozz would be defeated. One last sniffle, then bye-bye.

Okay, focus, I told myself as I walked through the white gate to the bright green door. A little bell tinkled as I walked into every kid’s fantasy world. Flowers, teddy bears, kittens, puppies, knickknacks, bubbling fountains, and balloons in all shapes and colors surrounded me; gauzy fairies hung from the ceiling, and silk flowers bunched together in painted vases on the floor; roses in a rainbow of colors decorated a glass case. The whole place smelled sweet and sugary, like someone had baked a million birthday cakes. (I guess they had.) I breathed in deeply, wondering if even the air had calories. Mom would never come into this place.

A woman came from the back through some swinging doors, wiping her hands on a towel. What can I do for you?

I noticed that her hair was tied up in a net, showing off her big brown eyes, sweet round face, and cute little pug nose. A white apron that said Katie Bakes! was tied around her plump waist. I figured that was the hazard of making cakes for a living. Or maybe the air did have calories.

I’m here for the job interview. I tried not to do that nervous nose-touching thing that Megan says I do before every school presentation or even when a cute guy talks to me.

The lady cocked her head and looked at me. The driver position? She spoke slowly, as if I were kind of stupid and had walked into the wrong place to ask for a job.

Yeah. Way to sound confident. I looked down at her scuffed-up loafers. She had a glob of pink frosting on her right foot.

Well, okay. She sighed. You’re not exactly what I had in mind, but I guess you can apply.

I watched the frosting wobble on her foot as she walked toward the cash register at the front of the store. A bunch of helium balloons floated in a basket on the ceiling. I half wished I could take the whole strange collection of ladybugs, smiley faces, high-heeled shoes, turtles, dolphins, and miscellaneous Happy messages and float into the sky. What did she mean by not exactly what I had in mind? Had she been hoping for some gorgeous showgirl type who could dance and sing with the deliveries, and Super Schnozz didn’t fit that image? She gave me the application, then went back to the kitchen.

The application had a bunch of little boxes for previous job experience. I tried to make myself sound impressive without really lying. I put down pet sitter because I once fed Hannah’s cat when she went out of town. Child care. I counted back on my fingers. I’ve baby-sat occasionally since I was about eleven, if you count the times I kept an eye on the neighbor’s baby while she mowed her lawn. That gave me six years of experience. But I didn’t have any so-called delivery experience. (Though I did run up to Scolari’s every time my mom forgot some strange ingredient necessary for her wacky diet of the week.) Technically, I delivered groceries. I printed grocery deliveries in the first box and wrote Scolari’s in the next box that asked for location, but I skipped all the phone number and address stuff.

Now I needed something to give me a little edge. Something to show that I was good with people. But somehow Spanish club member didn’t sound too impressive, plus I’d dropped out when I realized that no cute guys had signed up. Just that one freshman, but he’d been Finn’s best friend in third grade and I’d watched him eat his boogers one too many times.

I thought about how Megan and I had stood at the bottom of the chairlift exit up at Mount Rose all last winter and greeted at least three

Reviews for My Big Nose and Other Natural Disasters

[cats57_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

My Big Nose and other natural disasters by Sydney Salter(Young Adult)Jory Michaels is entering summer vacation this year with plans. Really big plans! She plans on getting a job to save money, finding a boyfriend, possibly loosing her virginity and getting her “Super Schnozz “ as she like to call it ’fixed’. So she gets a job delivering cakes and flowers. So not the best ideas she has ever had. On her very first day she needs to have someone else show her how to drive a stick shift!This book deals with many problems a lot of teens may experience, in a funny and fairly realistic way. Some of these issues include, self-image problems, homo-sexuality, loosing ones virginity just to name a few. For Jory, and probably for most teen girls it was a little more complicated since she was also basing her self image on her mother who was constantly dieting (I’m laughing at some of the very unusual diets this poor woman tried…the Cabbage soup diet?) and very unhappy with her own looks, which makes a big impact on her daughter. I recommend this book very highly for any young girl over 15 and I really recommend this as reading for any mother of a young teen girl, as this can serve as an excellent cautionary tale about what you are teaching your daughters when you strive for perfection at any cost.

[senfaye · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Title: My Big Nose & Other Natural Disasters Author: Sydney Salter Publisher: Graphia Number Of Pages: 345 Publication Date: April 6th,2009Synopsis from back of book: “If I got this job, I could become a member of the Nice Nose Club in time for senior year. All I needed was approximately $5,000 and two weeks of initial recovery time…Super Schnozz would be defeated. One last sniffle, then bye-bye.”WELCOME TO THE SUMMER OF PASSION. For seventeen-year-old Jory Michaels, that means three sun-and-fun-filled months of spending time with her best friends, obsessing over her crush, trying to find something she is passionate about, and…saving money for a nose job. Jory is determined to lose the big, honking, bumpy monstrosity she calls the Super Schnozz—one thing standing between her and happiness.So accident-prone Jory takes a job delivering wedding cakes to save up for surgery; she even keeps a book filled with magazine cutouts of perfect noses to show the doctor. To find her passion, she tries yoga; she tries becoming a foreign film buff; but nothing is quite as interesting as finding a boyfriend. And that can’t happen until Super Schnozz disappears...right?Jory is in for some big surprises when her passion finds her—and she discovers the beautiful people she longs to look like are not as perfect as they seem. In her hilarious and heartbreaking debut novel, Sydney Salter delivers a story about broadening your horizons, accepting yourself, and finding love right under your nose.Review: My Big Nose & Other Natural Disasters is a great debut novel. I found myself either smiling, laughing, or upset. I really liked Jory, she was a likeable character but I found at times that she was just a tad bit too whiny. While, I really liked Jory I didn’t like her supposedly best friend Megan, she seemed like a backstabber from the beginning. Hannah her other best friend was funny, but I didn’t like her all that much. Gideon was a much better character and I found that he was hilarious.The plot was interesting. Girl wants a new nose to fit into her “pretty” family. I wasn’t so sure about the beginning of the book. The middle of the book was interesting. But, the ending was perfect and made the book all the better. All in all, this was a great quick, light summer read.I recommend this book if you like romance, feel good novels, and YA novels.

[ylin20621 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

So I heard several different takes on this book. Was okay, was not that good, was amazing! I happen to be in the latter class. Sydney Salter made me laugh, cry, and smile throughout the entire process. Jory was relatable in the sense that every teen has self-confidence issues. I know I do. So it was a relief to find one that a problem with herself that was not so outlandish. A nose. Simple, but effective. What she does she solve this problem made me cry my freaking eyes out. She has this entire notebook titled “Nice Nose Notebook”, an ideal process where after having a plastic surgery she’ll be more loved. Self-confidence issues. Every teens and/or adults have them. Unloved. A flaw. Gideon was the comic relief. He made me laugh (out loud). Smile. Sigh. And cross my fingers that he and Jory will end up together. The perfect Yin to her Yang (cheesy I know), that helped her realize that she is fine the way she is. The friends that Jory has were pitiful though at times. Non-empathic, selfish, and hateful. To be mindful of the different scenarios, the ups and downs of each of the girls lives, I will let it slide. Some parts are more touching then others.

[yaaddict · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

What a fun read! For Body Image & Self Perception Month, I have been reading some wonderful stories, but they have had heavy subjects that are sometimes difficult to read. My Big Nose and Other Natural Distasters was such a refreshing change. It has an important subject matter, but it is told in a fun and enjoyable voice that makes it impossible not to crack a smile. It was easy for me to click with Jory. She is highly self conscious about her "Super Schnozz". She thinks that if it wasn't for her nose, her life would be perfect. I think we have all felt the same thing, in one way or the other. But it's not only that with Jory. She also feels just "average" in everything she does. She feels she has no talent that would stand out in a crowd. I know I have felt this way in the past, especially as a teen. Some of my favorite parts to read about were Jory's big blunders that happens when she is working. I felt terrible for her, but they were completely hilarious. I couldn't stand Jory's mom and her friends. Jory definitely had a poor choice in friends. Her mom was the type that only cared about what the outside world saw. As long as the neighbors think everything is perfect, everything is okay. So for Jory's mom, her nose doesn't fit the cookie cutter image of perfection. I sympathized with Jory about her mom. You can't replace your mom, but I really wish she would have dumped those crappy friends! I was so happy when Gideon came into the picture. He is exactly the kind of person Jory needs in her life, and I was rooting for these two to get together. I was really satisfied with the ending. By the end of the book, I was so proud of Jory for how far she came. My Big Nose and Other Natural Disasters was a heartwarming story with a sense of humor. I loved Salter's charming writing style, and am looking forward to reading more from her.

[jinkay_1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

"tayo'y mga pinoy, tayo'y hindi kano.. wag kang mahihiya kung ang ilong mo ay pango!" above are lyrics to a filipino folk song which basically says that filipinos shouldn't be ashamed of being snub-nosed. for a while back, i hated hearing this song because i felt it brought attention to my flat, pug nose in all it's glory. it's like when the heavens gave out nose cartilage, i was sleeping in. now the song just makes me smile. i've long grown to accept and love my nose just the way it is. i saw this book at a bargain bookstore and i chuckled. i just had to read it. the story is about jory and what happens during the summer before her senior year. she's ok-looking except that her nose is too big that she calls it the super schnozz. to add insult to injury, her younger freshman brother is gorgeous, talented and is more popular in their school than she is. also, she feels that she doesn't meet her mother's standards - she's not pretty enough, she's not smart enough, too clumsy for sports. i liked this book except for the fact that it's too boy-centric. jory has major self esteem issues and it seemed as if all she wanted to do was to snag a boy, any boy to feel good about herself. in the end she did learn to have confidence in herself. she realized that she can have a super schnozz and still be awesome just the way she is.

[lilrongal · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Chapter 11. Read the book for that alone. It had me in tears I was laughing so hard.