By Isobelle Carmody
ISBN-10: 0375839380
ISBN-13: 9780375839382
Are Alyzon’s new skills a blessing . . . or a curse?Alyzon Whitestarr does not take after her musically gifted father or her nocturnal, creative mom. actually, she’s the main general member of a really eccentric family members . . . until eventually the day that an twist of fate leaves her extra specific than she ever may have dreamed. without notice shades are extra brilliant to Alyzon; her reminiscence is faultless; yet strangest of all is Alyzon’s feel of odor. Her ally smells of a comforting sea breeze. She registers her father’s contentment because the candy smell of caramelized sugar. yet why does the cutest man at school scent so rancid? With Alyzon’s extrasensory notion comes intrigue and possibility, as she turns into conscious of the darkish secrets and techniques and hidden pursuits that threaten her relations. after all, being varied could be much less of a blessing than a curse. . . .
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Additional info for Alyzon Whitestarr
Example text
It wasn’t that I couldn’t see or hear, but I couldn’t concentrate on anything else. I needed a more selective technique. When I heard the car pull up, I was pretty weary. I didn’t want to face anyone, so I went back upstairs and climbed into bed. Fatigue rolled over me. * * * I woke again when Serenity came to bed. It was dark, and from the silence of the house I guessed it must be late. She switched on the bedside lamp, draping her black scarf over the side of the lamp nearest to me to cut the glare.
I felt quite simply his insistence that he needed feeding, clear as a statement and absolutely connected to the smell of tuna. I got out a box of crunchies, wondering if the focused attention of humans overwhelmed me because they were unwittingly sending everything they thought in a loud unfocused jumble, whereas Wombat used his scent with the same precision as humans used words. He had probably always given off his specific scent statement when he wanted food, but we humans had only responded either to our knowledge that he had not been fed for a time, or to the insistent meow he had come up with to get our attention.
The truth is I like school. I’d get bored if I was home all the time just doing anything I wanted, like Jesse. Da tutored us all in music, of course. He taught us piano and guitar, but I’m the only one who doesn’t play anything. All that teaching couldn’t seem to take hold in me. It just slipped out as fast as Da fed it in, until he said kindly that maybe I took after Mum. That might be OK if it wasn’t for the fact that most of the others are artistic as well. Mum says it’s because I haven’t developed the right side of my brain yet.
Alyzon Whitestarr by Isobelle Carmody
by Joseph
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