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Winner of the 2010 William C. Morris Award!

Fifteen-year-old Blake has a girlfriend and a friend who’s a girl. One of them loves him; the other one needs him.

When he snapped a picture of a street person for his photography homework, Blake never dreamed that the woman in the photo was his friend Marissa’s long-lost meth addicted mom. Blake’s participation in the ensuing drama opens up a world of trouble, both for him and for Marissa. He spends the next few months trying to reconcile the conflicting roles of Boyfriend and Friend. His experiences range from the comic (surviving his dad’s birth control talk) to the tragic (a harrowing after-hours visit to the morgue).

In a tangle of life and death, love and loyalty, Blake will emerge with a more sharply defined snapshot of himself.

• Sales Rank: #2532593 in Books
• Published on: 2009-10-19
• Released on: 2009-10-19
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 2
• Dimensions: 8.25" h x 1.11" w x 5.50" l, 1.08 pounds
• Binding: Hardcover
• 336 pages

Review
"With just enough humor to diffuse the tension and the art and science of photography as a backdrop, this rich romance explores the complexities of friendship and love, and the all-too-human limitations of both. It’s a sobering, compelling, and satisfying read for teens and a promising debut for a new young-adult author."--Booklist, starred review  "An exceptional novel, Flash Burnout is thought-provoking on many levels."--School Library Journal, starred review  

About the Author
L. K. Madigan lives in Portland, Oregon with her husband, son, two big black dogs, hundreds of books, and a couple of vintage cars.Visit her at her website: www.lkmadigan.com.    

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
Chapter One

Cease handling the equipment immediately if it emits smoke, sparks, or noxious fumes. —Mitsu ProShot I.S. 5.3 camera guide, 2007

 

When I go down to breakfast, I’m greeted by photos of bullet wounds scattered all across the kitchen table. You would think my dad would at least have the courtesy not to put stuff from work on the table where we eat.

Right on cue, I hear a snore from the family room. Dad must have gotten home late and decided to sleep on the couch last night. He does that sometimes so he won’t wake Mom.

I shove the photos to one side, trying not to look at them, and pour a bowl of cereal.

Mom comes into the room yelling, "I mean it, Garrett. If I have to tell you to get up again, I’m going to tell you with a bucket of cold water. It’s almost seven fifteen!"

Her hair is still wet from her shower, and she’s running around in her underwear and a blouse. Usually she’s a Zen master of calm. She has to be, she’s a hospital chaplain, but every morning she turns into a spaz. She’s always setting down half-finished cups of coffee and throwing things into her briefcase and searching for her shoes.

"Morning, sweetie," she says, leaning over to hug me.

"Morning."

She glances at the photos and turns away to pour herself a cup of coffee without so much as a raised eyebrow. Just another cheery morning in the Hewson household. "Did you feed The Dog Formerly Known as Prince yet?"

"No."

"Don’t forget." She drinks some coffee, studying the front page of the newspaper.

"As if."

"It’s too early for snide and snappy, Blake. I can listen to it later, but not right now, okay?" She peels off her blouse, her face red and sweaty. "Aarghh, hot flash!"

"Jeez, Mom! People are eating here!"

She fans herself with the newspaper. "I swear, it’s starting to happen every morning! Could it be the coffee?" She shakes her head. "I don’t care. I am never giving up coffee."

I keep my eyes on my cereal. It never used to bother me when my mom ran around half dressed. But now that I have an actual girlfriend whose actual bra I have seen in person, it makes me feel kind of squicky to see my own mother in her bra.

Dad shuffles in from the other room. "Morning." He perks up when he sees Mom standing there half naked.

"Hi," says Mom, putting up her hands. "No, don’t hug me, I’m having a hot flash. What time did you get home?"

"Around one." Dad holds his arms out in a pretend hug and pats the air around Mom. "I couldn’t sleep, so I worked on my presentation for a while."

"Yeah, Dad, thanks," I say, flicking the photos farther away from me. "Can’t you remember to put stuff like this away? I’ve already vomited at the sight of it."

Dad chuckles.

Ahhh, the first laugh of the day. I’m going to be a comedian when I grow up, so I keep a log of how many times a day I make people laugh. Garrett says it’s ass to keep a log, but it is not ass. It is analytical.

"I’m going to dry my hair," says Mom, exiting the room. "And if Garrett is not up—"

I can hear her muttering, "He will rue the day" as she disappears down the hall.

I finish my cereal and stuff my books into my backpack, whistling a line from the new Gingerfred song, "I’m angry at my backpack, I hate how much it weighs."

As I slide my photo homework into my portfolio I think, These are good. No more listening to Mr. Malloy say, "Technically fine, Blake. But where’s the heart?" Phhft. He gave me a C last year. Who the hell gets a C in photo?

Dad sits with a cup of coffee, studying the bullet wounds.

"How come you were late last night?" I ask.

"Shooting. Downtown. The cops shot a homeless guy. They say he charged them."

"Oh."

"Bystanders heard the guy raving to himself, though, so he was probably mentally ill." Dad rubs his face. Even though he’s a medical examiner and his job depends on there being a supply of dead people, he would prefer that people not kill each other so randomly. "I wish the police could figure out a better way of dealing with the mentally ill than shooting them." He takes another sip of coffee. "Especially eleven times. That’s not for public knowledge, Blake, by the way."

I nod.

Garrett comes into the room, The Dog Formerly Known as Prince at his heels. Garrett is The Dog’s favorite; he sleeps in Garrett’s room. I don’t know how The Dog can stand it—the room reeks of sweat and stale farts. Maybe that’s perfume to a dog.

I pour two big scoops of kibble into The Dog’s food dish, and he tears himself away from Garrett’s side long enough to notice that yes, I am the one feeding him. Without so much as a mercy wag, he buries his snout in his dish.

I check the clock—just enough time to text Shannon:

Hi GF, can’t wait to see u. What r u wearing? heh. BF

"Haul ass, Studly," says Garrett. "We’re out in five."

Garrett started calling my Studly after I acquired an official GirlFriend. I guess it’s better than Ass-wipe, my previous nickname.

"You’re the one who’s late," I say.

Garrett’s big jock hands clench into fists, but he just looks at me.

I brush my teeth and head out to the driveway. Garrett’s not there yet. I lean against the hood of the car, checking my cell for a text from Shannon. No reply.

When Garrett finally shows up, I say, "What happened to hauling our asses?"

"If you don’t get yours off my car, you’re going to have it handed to you," he says.

"What?"

"Your ass. Get it off. My car."

I step away from Monty, a 1964 Mercury Montclair Marauder that Garrett and Dad fixed up. My dad is a grease monkey at heart. When he’s not cutting up dead people, he’s usually in the garage dinking with pistons and valves and crankshafts and whatever-other-shafts make engines run.

Garrett leans over the windshield and studies it like a judge at a car show. Then he whips out a bandanna. No, I’m not kidding, he carries a bandanna around in his back pocket, not because he’s a gang member, but because he likes to cover up his shaved jock head when he’s in the sun. He polishes a speck on the windshield, then unlocks the door. We get in, and he backs out of the driveway without saying a word.

I flip on the radio and tune it to our school’s radio station.

The last yell ("Hehh!") of a James Brown song fades out, and a girl’s voice comes out of the speakers: "Good God, y’all! I’m Chick Trickster, flicking you some slick discs live from the Wild West studio at West Park High. And what a flippy, trippy, overly hip school this is! Just right for this chick. Pleased to meet you and greet you, don’t make me cheat you. Speaking of which, Franz Ferdinand is ‘Cheating On You,’ right here on 88.1 FM—KWST."

"Hey, it’s a girl," I say.

"What?"

"It’s a girl on KWST."

"So?"

"So I’ve never heard a girl DJ on there before."

Garrett grunts. "She’s probably a dog."

"What? Why would you think that?"

"Why else would she be on the radio? Hot chicks don’t go sit in a little studio and hide their hotness behind a microphone. They do cheerleading or the drama club or the dance team."

"Right, Gare. Every single hot chick in the world wants to be a cheerleader." I shake my head. "Maybe she likes music."

"Yeah. We’ll see."

We don’t talk the rest of the way, which is a relief.

Shannon is standing with Kaylee and Jasmine on the quad when I get there. She’s sooo luscious in her little white top—it barely reaches the waistband of her baggy shorts. There are "no bare midriffs" allowed at West Park High, but I can see a few millimeters of silky skin between her top and her shorts. I want to touch her like a junkie wants his drug.

"Hey," I call.

She doesn’t wave and smile when she sees me, which is my first clue that something’s up. Kaylee and Jasmine kind of slip away without speaking to me as I approach, which is my second clue.

Uh-oh. Maybe I can joke my way out of it, whatever it is.

"Houston, we have a problem," I say. "Shannon is not smiling. Repeat: not smiling."

Shannon continues to not-smile.

Hmm. "Baby?" I say, tilting my head at her.

"You know what?" she says.

"What."

"I am so done with the word ‘baby.’"

"Ohh-kay." Who are you and what have you done with Shannon?

"Not just you. Everyone! Guys calling each other baby. It’s enough already." She crosses her arms, as if disgusted by all slang.

Houston, a little help here? I think. Crashing and burning is imminent. Over?

The Houston in my head yells, Abort, abort!

"What’s going on?" I ask.

She doesn’t answer right away, just stares off into the distance with her cool blue eyes. Then she says, "You really don’t know?"

Oh. Mygod. I just wanted to get a little sugar before class! It’s waaay too early for this drama. "I’m, uh, wrong somehow? I’ve done something wrong. And I’m really, really sorry." I pause. The Houston in my head whispers that maybe I could risk a joke now. "Baby," I add.

Her lips twitch into a smile, and for a second I think I’ve made a spectacular landing. Houston and I start to congratulate each other.

Then she makes this bitter-beer face, like she’s mad at herself for smiling. "I can’t believe you!" she says, and storms off.

Wow. From bullet wounds at breakfast to girlfriends gone wrong. And it’s not even eight o’clock.

Most helpful customer reviews

8 of 8 people found the following review helpful.
Good but has some distracting elements that take away from the story
By Mint910
What made me decide to read Flash Burnout basically encompassed the photography aspect and the girlfriend + girl that is a friend. And thankfully those two aspects of the book were pretty satisfying, unfortunately they came with a few other things that were bothersome to me.

Let's start with the good, I loved how each chapter started with something related to photography, be it from a manual or Blake's homework and the way that photography was used to move the story forward. I would have loved to have seen Blake's and Marissa's photographs. They sound beautiful.

I also loved seeing Blake try and balance having a girlfriend he adored and that adores him (Shannon) and a girl that is a friend that really needs him (Marissa). The feeling of being torn and trying to do what's right for everyone is explored wonderfully in this book.

Another thing I really liked was Blake's family, his open-minded parents and his older brother, Garrett. I actually liked Garret at times better than Blake and his storyline about his friend with benefits Cappie. Would have loved to have seen that explored more.

While I liked all of that I did have some problems that distracted and took away from the good things in the book. Right off the bat I noticed Blake's slang and sort of annoying sense of humor, stuff like talking to Houston in his head all the time etc. I could have done without those types of things. And another thing that became rather bothersome for me was the way that Blake talked about his girlfriend Shannon and her body and touching her body. Yes, I know boys have hormones and they think about that stuff, but it was just too much for me and it made me sort of dislike Blake during those passages. Another thing I didn't find funny at all was that basically any time Blake mentioned Shannon's father he insulted him, I can understand insulting her mother but her father, he never did anything to deserve that!

Overall a nice coming of age story with some downsides that somewhat distracted from the story.

2 of 2 people found the following review helpful.
Courtesy of Teens Read Too
By TeensReadToo
Blake is trying to understand relationships. He has a girlfriend and he is also the friend of a girl. Both relationships are important to him, but he realizes balancing them requires artful skill much like in his hobby of photography. There are rules to follow and one mistake can cause everything to go out of focus.

Blake is a cool character. He dreams of life as a stand-up comic and uses almost every opportunity to test out jokes and one-liners. He chalks up an invisible mark every time he gets a laugh. Many of those laughs come from Shannon. Blake can't believe how much fun she is, how beautiful she is, and how much he is really starting to love her.

Marissa is Blake's partner in photography class. As the two youngest in the class, they became partners by default, but it's a partnership that has worked well. Their friendship revolves strictly around photography until the day Blake accidentally takes a picture of Marissa's mother. He didn't realize they were mother and daughter when he stumbled across the homeless woman sleeping on the street. The photo begins a change in their friendship as Blake learns the truth about Marissa's mother.

What makes this story unique is the combination of an interesting cast of characters in a mix of serious situations and refreshing humor. My attention was immediately grabbed in the opening pages as Blake enters the kitchen for breakfast. He describes the snapshots of gunshot wounds fanned out across the kitchen table and the snoring of his father, the coroner, asleep on the nearby couch. Then there's the entrance of his mother, a hospital chaplain, dressed in only underwear and a blouse. As she fixes her morning coffee, Blake is disgusted, but not particularly shocked, when she warns of an oncoming hot flash and promptly removes her blouse.

With an introduction like that, how can readers not continue turning pages?

L. K. Madigan has fun with her characters as she takes them through the good times and the bad. Readers are sure to find at least one character to relate to and at least one experience to learn from. Several added bonuses include a photography tip at the beginning of each chapter and two interesting playlists with commentary from Blake at the end of the book.

FLASH BURNOUT doesn't come out until October 2009, but be sure to watch for it; it's a worthwhile read.

Reviewed by: Sally Kruger, aka "Readingjunky"

4 of 4 people found the following review helpful.
witty and funny main character
By Tabitha
Blake is a typical teenage boy, filled with hormones and rampant thoughts about sex. He also aspires to be a stand up comic, and does his best to make everyone around him laugh. He makes for a funny, interesting character that many teenage boys will relate to.

There were a few times, however, that his voice sounded too teen-girl. Such as "Oh no she didn't!" That phrase is begging for a 'snap' at the end of it, and I don't know any teen boys who would do that. :) He also had a little too much insight at times (like, at the end with Marissa), which didn't fit his maturity level, character, or situation in life. Also, the end result of his photography felt like the story was being tied up with a bow.

So, for me (who isn't a teen anymore), those elements weakened the story. However, I can still see teens, both boys and girls, strongly relating to the characters and their situations. Especially since the writing is sharp, and the descriptions of the photographs are vivid and interesting.

This is definitely not for a younger audience, though. Sex is mentioned frequently, and there is an after-sex scene that might be too mature for kids younger than 13 or 14. The drug aspect of the story was done well, without graphic consequences, but it's also prevalent throughout the story.

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