Me (Moth): (National Book Award Finalist)

By Amber McBride

FINALIST FOR THE 2021 NATIONAL BOOK AWARD FOR YOUNG PEOPLE'S LITERATURE

A debut YA novel-in-verse by Amber McBride, Me (Moth) is about a teen girl who is grieving the deaths of her family, and a teen boy who crosses her path.

Moth has lost her family in an accident. Though she lives with her aunt, she feels alone and uprooted.

Until she meets Sani, a boy who is also searching for his roots. If he knows more about where he comes from, maybe he’ll be able to understand his ongoing depression. And if Moth can help him feel grounded, then perhaps she too will discover the history she carries in her bones.

Moth and Sani take a road trip that has them chasing ghosts and searching for ancestors. The way each moves forward is surprising, powerful, and unforgettable.

Here is an exquisite and uplifting novel about identity, first love, and the ways that our memories and our roots steer us through the universe.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Macmillan Publishers
• Release date: Aug 17, 2021
• ISBN: 9781250780379

Amber McBride

Amber McBride is currently an assistant professor at the University of Virginia. She received her MFA in poetry from Emerson College in 2012. She also served as the media assistant at the Furious Flower Poetry Center. Her poetry has appeared in various literary magazines, including Ploughshares, Provincetown Arts, Willow Springs, the Cincinnati Review, the Rumpus, and others. She has been nominated twice for Best on the Net awards. Her debut YA novel in verse, Me (Moth), was a finalist for the Morris Award and National Book Award in Children’s Literature and won the John Steptoe–Coretta Scott King Award. Her sophomore novel in verse, We Are All So Good at Smiling, received four starred reviews.

Book preview

MOTH EGG:

a) an oval or round object that is laid & contains a developing embryo

b) a roundish home from which the hungry sprout

c) a boundary from the living because we are not ready to live yet

This is long work. A finding spell

for roots destined to twine.

—Gray-Bearded Grandfather

(Rootworker)

CALL ME (MOTH)

That’s what my parents (Jim & Marcia) named me.

My brother got a normal name: Zachary.

My mom’s sister (Mary)

didn’t like the name her parents (William & Juliet) gave her.

She changed her name to Jacqueline.

(Jack) for short.

I’ve thought about changing my name.

Especially now

with no one to really mind.

Given or replaced, names hang to your bones like forever suits.

When I die people will still say, (Moth),

she was great at dancing before she stopped.

She might have gone all the way,

danced at Juilliard, been the next Misty Copeland.

Like I still say, Zachary was a pyromaniac, which is probably why,

with a name like Moth, we were the musketeers of night—

the torch & the moth.

Like I still say, Jim & Marcia were really into Shakespeare,

their favorite play was A Midsummer Night’s Dream.

Names outgrow you, like a garden left untended;

they don’t disappear

with the science that keeps our bodies alive.

Jesus is still Jesus, alive, dead & resurrected—

& if we forget, headstones remind us that names

slouch on without bodies.

So even though my name is strange

I have to live with it.

It has been with my nerves for far too long;

my name is a thick wilderness

of angelica root around me,

crafted for my spirit.

& mostly because that is what they

(Jim & Marcia) named me.

ALMOST SUMMER (AGAIN)

Two summers ago our car broke in half

like a candy bar on the freeway & we all spilled

onto the pavement as crumbled as sticky caramel-peanut filling.

I broke three ribs & my stomach tore.

I fractured a leg & was gifted

a scar as crisp as the tip of a whip from jaw to eye that I trace

most in summer, when the sunrays make it feel so chapped,

I have to smooth Vaseline over it daily.

It was the start of summer, we (Mom, Dad, brother & me)

left New York to visit Aunt Jack in Northern Virginia.

Before we broke in half

we

were

merging.

All of our beaten bodies made it to the haunted hospital

overrun with figures in white, smelling like

formaldehyde & alcohol wipes.

Aunt Jack prayed & prayed & bit her nail beds ruddy—

but there is only so much prayer & if god takes sacrifices,

only so much blood to offer.

That day there was only enough prayer

& blood for one of us to walk out.

NOW I LIVE A SECONDHAND LIFE

After the accident & the scar like the tip of a whip

I changed schools to live with Aunt Jack in the suburbs.

I go to a school that is 94 percent white

with only six Black kids—who don’t talk to me.

This is nothing new.

Black kids sealed

their lips to me in New York, too.

I’ve always been

a passing breeze,

felt but never seen

unless I was dancing.

Maybe here, in this Virginia suburb,

everyone glues their lips shut because

I don’t wear North Face & UGGs. I like girls

as much as boys.

I don’t slingshot the n-word so I am not white or Black enough—

I am not something to anyone.

Or maybe here

silence took root because

first impressions matter

& two Septembers ago Aunt Jack,

who is single & after the accident began drinking

too much, didn’t buy me shorts that fit, so I had to borrow hers.

I had to roll them up

to craft shorts instead of capris—

I started sophomore year

secondhand everything

(shoes, shirt, backpack, socks, shorts).

Everything borrowed from my head to the tips of my toes.

It’s fine, I don’t mind being nothing

to no one, unrooted on every soil

my feet trespass on.

It’s fine, it’s just

in New York, two summers ago,

the funeral was rudely everything but mournful—

the birds tittled & tattled & the leaves insisted

on sunsetting over the urns & everything I wore

was borrowed, even my time felt borrowed.

So now when I (Moth) think of summer

I don’t think of Southern sweet tea rotting my teeth,

or staying with Grandfather for two weeks,

or bikinis & cheap beer smuggled in too-large purses.

I don’t think of riding the wind

or lying down in soft grass

twisting clouds into shapes.

I think of candy bars breaking in half.

WHEN I LIVED IN NEW YORK CITY

I have noticed some things traverse state lines,

oceans & railways.

Things like, all Black kids like sports.

Black people like fried chicken

& watermelon & rap music & twerking

& being loud.

I have noticed sometimes a stereotype becomes the truth

to even the stereotyped,

so when I started ballet at five, I heard things like

Black girls can’t be ballerinas,

their legs are too thick & their arms

are too strong, not delicate like willow branches.

& my friends dropped me like a hot potato.

Instead of playing outside after school,

Mom & I traveled to the best dance studios

so I could flutter my wings & sprinkle

dust on everything, so I could dance

strong, like Misty Copeland—

& be bullied for being

the only Black one in class.

Other ballerinas said,

Your skin is ashy,

dusty like your name.

I said, My gray grandfather

says our skin is rich

like the lands

my ancestors came from.

I only ever felt at home

when moving

under the stage lights.

When moving I could fly,

but after the accident that split

our car like a candy bar,

I gave up movement,

so sometimes I feel less

Reviews for Me (Moth)

[ewyatt_16 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Listening to this book, some of the poems gave me pause with the haunting language. Moth is reeling after the death of her parents and brother in a car accident. Her aunt turns to the bottle as a way to deal with the loss. Moth goes through school not connecting with anyone, until Sani shows up at her school. The two run away together and go on a roadtrip throughout the south and west. The two connect with by sharing their heritage and finding ways they overlap and connect.

[krau0098 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Series Info/Source: This is a stand alone book. I borrowed this on audiobook from the library.Thoughts: This is a beautiful magical realism type of book that is written in prose. It was a stunning listen and I really enjoyed it. It has a lot of impact for the shorter length. It's about a girl named Moth, who is the only survivor of a car crash that kills her whole family. She is trying to navigate high school after this tragedy and this is when she meets Sani. Sani is a beautiful boy with a troubled home life and a beautiful voice. Over the summer, the two end up on a road trip that will hopefully heal their broken souls and help them grow. This story deals with a ton of heavy topics; survivor's guilt, grief, depression and the injustices done to the American Indian population. It is written in amazingly beautiful prose and the imagery is fantastic. The choice of words and phrasing do a perfect job of conveying the emotion in this story. There are some excellent twists in the story as well that will keep you wondering and guessing.My Summary (4/5): Overall I picked this up on a whim and ended up really enjoying it. This brief novella in prose captures a lot of heavy topics and emotion and does an amazing job telling a beautiful story of magic and growth. I would definitely recommend picking it up if you are in the mood for something poetic, a bit painful, and truly beautiful.

[reader1009-863136 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

(audiobook performed by the author, 3+ hrs) teen fiction/novel in verse - Black and Navajo teens take a road trip; Moth, a dancer, deals with the grief of losing her parents and brother in a car accident while Sani, a singer/musician, deals with depression after escaping an abusive home situation.Moth is a ghost; she died in the car crash as well but believed she had survived.This one was good as an audiobook but it was a little hard to decipher without seeing the words and punctuation on the page.

[oldandnewbooksmell · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Trigger Warnings: physical abuse, racism, bullying, death, mental health - depressionMoth lost her mother, father, and brother when their car split in half like a candy bar. Now she lives with her aunt but she feels deeply alone and unnoticed.Then one day, she meets Sani, a boy battling depression and searching for his roots, and hoping that finding those will help him understand the static in his mind. If Moth can help him, maybe she can understand her own history. They decide to go on a road trip together to find out.A YA novel told in verse, Me (Moth) is about identity, first love, and what holds us together.What a beautiful, heartbreaking story. Both Moth and Sani and their stories will stay with me for a very long time. Amber McBride did wonderful writing these characters so they dug into your heart to stay there. McBride also did an amazing job at including Navajo and Hoodoo culture and blending them together through Moth and Sani.This book will sit among the titles of The Poet X, The Crossover, and Long Way Down, just you wait, it is that special! It’s a fast read that will break your heart and stitch it back together, all while you learn and grow with Moth and Sani.I borrowed this from my public library, but I’m adding it to my list to get myself my own copy so I can reread it again, and again, and again. Teens and adults will both be mesmerized by this emotionally beautiful novel-in-verse.

[sennebec · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Unusual, lyrical, intriguing. Moth is the sole survivor of a terrible crash that killed her parents and her brother. Now living with her alcoholic aunt, she slides painfully through school and life. Then a new boy whose pain equals hers starts at her school. Their emotions sense each other, meet and fuse, with the result a meandering road trip back to his Navajo homeland near Four Corners, NM. Told in verse, with a stunning ending and great afterward, this is one heck of a book. Great choice for libraries where teens value thoughtful and emotion-inducing stories.