Review by Karl Verhoven

At seventeen Essie has been extraordinarily focused, prioritising her acting ambitions and best friend Anissa over her boyfriend Bruno. This year, though, Anissa is gone and she’s decided Bruno is to come first, which means somehow getting his best mate Mattie to like her.

Essie and the remainder of her class are assigned to keep a journal, which is the narrative method Sara Phoebe Miller uses to have Essie express her thoughts and feelings. At first this seems to lack subtlety, with Essie singularly morose and Bruno unusually compliant for someone who seems to have been dangled on a string. However, once Miller reveals background problems their respective attitudes are more understandable, and Essie becomes more sympathetic, which is just as well as we follow her through all the way through her final year of high school.

The intention is to create a character who doesn’t know if she’s coming or going, who’s had some of her certainties ripped away and is adrift without them. Clever plotting, though, turns Essie’s life into a twist on the wheel of fate, naturally moving her from one situation to another, and what at first seem mistakes or disappointments have a way of working out for the best. “It’s okay to let go of the things that no longer serve you”, advises someone who ought to know.

Contributing greatly to a general feeling of emotional turmoil is the expressive art of Morgan Beem. Essie cycles through a considerable amount of conflicting feelings and Beem supplies them all. You don’t need the diary entries to know what Essie’s like inside, and Beem’s smart in adjusting the colour density to reflect the mood despite being restricted to black, white and blue. Movement is another strength. Admiring her skill at depicting dancers during what’s actually a moment of shock dilutes the effect, but that’s no criticism. The take home is Beem producing really strong art.

Having established Bruno as a certainty in Essie’s life at the beginning, Miller discards that, and introduces choice to the menu. Despite a troubled family, the alternative certainly seems a prize, so what will Essie do? Perhaps dedication to acting will win out after all. Essie is self-absorbed, but teenagers generally are, and it’s something likely to fly over the heads of young adult readers until it explodes in her face, leaving a desperate, page-turning rush to the end.

Well observed, true to life and with a strong streak of humanity throughout, You Belong Here strikes all the right notes.