I don’t know how much I can commend James Dawson’s writing without it getting boring. I’ve read all of his books, and there’s a reason why his new releases get me the most excited of any releases in any year. I fully admit to fangirling at his tweets, specifically when they include details of his new books. Every narrative that he writes is addictive. Every character he creates is unique. Literally, I wish he could bottle up some of his writing genius, because he’d make a fortune. I am utterly convinced he was a teenage girl in another life, because the way Dawson writes is impeccably accurate and almost disturbingly true to my life.
All of the Above is like having another life. It’s like living your life through a different pair of eyes, with a different group of friends. It’s not like those books where, despite the first person narrative, you feel like you’re reading it from the outside.
I felt like I got to know all Toria’s new friends, every character, just like she did, and I saw them develop just as she did. I think Toria and me might be the same person, because I’ve never met a character who I’ve related to more.
All of the Above is told with the voice of Toria, who moves to a new school where she meets a host of new characters. Dawson grasps teenagehood as if he was a teenage girl himself. It’s as if he unpicks every little worry, every little situation, and weaves it into an engrossing and brilliant story. All of the Above has no fear, it has no boundaries, it is almost a metaphor for what all teenagers wish they could be. It doesn’t just stick to LGBT, it doesn’t just stick to eating disorders, it doesn’t just stick to self-harm, it doesn’t just stick to anything. And it also doesn’t brush over anything or make out that it doesn’t matter. It’s almost as if Dawson is slamming every stereotype, and he’s made such a brilliant book.
You might notice I’m really not saying all that much about the story, but that’s because I want you to read it, to discover all the characters for yourself, from Nico to Alice to Beasley to Polly to Toria herself. I loved each of them individually and I just wish there were more books like this. Books that weren’t camera–shy, that didn’t seem apologetic. It’s just so great.
As much as this book is contemporary and fresh, it’s written beautifully, and there are just these occasions when something is just summed up in such a wonderful, descriptive way, or a brilliant metaphor, that truly inspired me. I’ll give you an example from the very first page so I don’t give any spoilers, but here was a phrase I even wrote down for myself: “But then it changed. This year, the fabric of time itself changed.” Doesn’t that just make you feel the feels?
So overall, pick this up if you see it. I want to read it over and over again, because it’s like reading a diary that is and isn’t your own at the same time. I’m doubtlessly going to reread and reread and reread this. So good. Big pat on the back to James Dawson.
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Buy this book at the Guardian Bookshop
