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Burned Kindle Edition
It all started with a dream. Just a typical fantasy, but for a girl raised in a religious—and abusive—family, a simple dream could be the first step toward eternal damnation. Now Pattyn Von Stratten has questions. Questions about God, and sex, and mostly love. Will she ever find it? Pattyn experiences the first stirrings of passion, but when her father catches her in a compromising position, events spiral out of control.
Pattyn is sent to live with an aunt in the wilds of rural Nevada to find salvation and redemption. What she finds instead is love and acceptance, and for the first time she feels worthy of both—until she realizes that her old demons will not let her go. Those demons lead Pattyn down a path to hell—not to the place she learned about in sacrament meetings, but to an existence every bit as horrifying.
In this gripping and masterful novel told in verse, Ellen Hopkins embarks on an emotional journey that ebbs and flows. From the highs of true love to the lows of loss and despair, Pattyn’s story is utterly compelling. You won’t want this story to end—but when it does, you can find out what’s next for Pattyn in the sequel, Smoke.
- LanguageEnglish
- PublisherMargaret K. McElderry Books
- Publication dateJune 20, 2008
- Reading age14 years and up
- Grade level9 - 12
- File size7182 KB
Editorial Reviews
From School Library Journal
Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.
From Booklist
Copyright © American Library Association. All rights reserved
Review
―Booklist
“Compelling characters in horrific situations.”
―School Library Journal
About the Author
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
Burned
By Ellen HopkinsMargaret K. McElderry
Copyright © 2006 Ellen HopkinsAll right reserved.
ISBN: 1416903542
From Burned
Did You Ever
When you were little, endure
your parents' warnings, then wait
for them to leave the room,
pry loose protective covers
and consider inserting some metal
object into an electrical outlet?
Did you wonder if for once
you might light up the room?
When you were big enough
to cross the street on your own,
did you ever wait for a signal,
hear the frenzied approach
of a fire truck and feel like
stepping out in front of it?
Did you wonder just how far
that rocket ride might take you?
When you were almost grown,
did you ever sit in a bubble bath,
perspiration pooling,
notice a blow-dryer plugged
in within easy reach, and think
about dropping it into the water?
Did you wonder if the expected
rush might somehow fail you?
And now, do you ever dangle
your toes over the precipice,
dare the cliff to crumble,
defy the frozen deity to suffer
the sun, thaw feather and bone,
take wing to fly you home?
I, Pattyn Scarlet Von Stratten, do.
I'm Not Exactly Sure
When I began to feel that way.
Maybe a little piece of me
always has. It's hard to remember.
But I do know things really
began to spin out of control
after my first sex dream.
As sex dreams go, there wasn't
much sex, just a collage
of very hot kisses, and Justin Proud's
hands, exploring every inch
of my body, at my fervent
invitation. As a stalwart Mormon
high school junior, drilled
ceaselessly about the dire
catastrophe awaiting those
who harbored impure thoughts,
I had never kissed a boy,
had never even considered
that I might enjoy such
an unclean thing, until
literature opened my eyes.
See, the Library
was my sanctuary.
Through middle
school, librarians
were like guardian
angels. Spinsterish
guardian angels,
with graying hair
and beady eyes,
magnified through
reading glasses,
and always ready
to recommend new
literary windows
to gaze through.
A. A. Milne. Beatrix
Potter. Lewis
Carroll. Kenneth
Grahame. E. B.
White. Beverly
Cleary. Eve Bunting.
Then I started high
school, where the
not-so-bookish
librarian was half
angel, half she-devil,
so sayeth the rumor
mill. I hardly cared.
Ms. Rose was all
I could hope I might
one day be: aspen
physique, new penny
hair, aurora green
eyes, and hands that
could speak. She
walked on air. Ms
Rose shuttered old
windows, opened
portals undreamed of.
And just beyond,
what fantastic worlds!
I Met Her My Freshman Year
All wide-eyed and dim about starting high school,
a big new school, with polished hallways
and hulking lockers and doors that led
who-knew-where?
A scary new school, filled with towering
teachers and snickering students,
impossible schedules, tough expectations,
and endless possibilities.
The library, with its paper perfume,
whispered queries, and copy
machine shuffles, was the only familiar
place on the entire campus.
And there was Ms. Rose.
How can I help you?
Fresh off a fling with C. S.
Lewis and Madeleine L'Engle,
hungry for travel far from home,
I whispered, "Fantasy, please."
She smiled. Follow me.
I know just where to take you.
I shadowed her to Tolkien's
Middle-earth and Rowling's
School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,
places no upstanding Mormon should go.
When you finish those,
I'd be happy to show you more.
Fantasy Segued into Darker Dimensions
And authors who used three whole names:
Vivian Vande Velde, Annette Curtis Klause.
Mary Downing Hahn.
By my sophomore year, I was deep
into adult horror -- King, Koontz, Rice.
You must try classic horror,
insisted Ms. Rose.
Poe, Wells, Stoker. Stevenson. Shelley.
There's more to life than monsters.
You'll love these authors:
Burroughs. Dickens. Kipling. London.
Bradbury. Chaucer. Henry David Thoreau.
And these:
Jane Austen. Arthur Miller. Charlotte Brontë.
F. Scott Fitzgerald. J. D. Salinger.
By my junior year, I devoured increasingly
adult fare. Most, I hid under my dresser:
D. H. Lawrence. Truman Capote.
Ken Kesey. Jean Auel.
Mary Higgins Clark. Danielle Steel.
I Began
To view the world at large
through borrowed eyes,
eyes more like those
I wanted to own.
Hopeful.
I began
to see that it was more than
okay -- it was, in some circles,
expected -- to question my
little piece of the planet.
Empowered.
I began
to understand that I could
stretch if I wanted to, explore
if I dared, escape
if I just put one foot
in front of the other.
Enlightened.
I began
to realize that escape
might offer the only real
hope of freedom from my
supposed God-given roles --
wife and mother of as many
babies as my body could bear.
Emboldened.
I Also Began to Journal
Okay, one of the things expected of Latter-
Day Saints is keeping a journal.
But I'd always considered it just another
"supposed to," one not to worry much about.
Besides, what would I write in a book
everyone was allowed to read?
Some splendid nonfiction chronicle
about sharing a three-bedroom house
with six younger sisters, most of whom
I'd been required to diaper?
Some suspend-your-disbelief fiction
about how picture-perfect life was at home,
forget the whole dysfunctional truth
about Dad's alcohol-fueled tirades?
Some brilliant manifesto about how God
whispered sweet insights into my ear,
higher truths that I would hold on to forever,
once I'd shared them through testimony?
Or maybe they wanted trashy confessions --
Daydreams Designed by Satan.
Whatever. I'd never written but a few
words in my mandated diary.
Maybe it was the rebel in me.
Or maybe it was just the lazy in me.
But faithfully penning a journal
was the furthest thing from my mind.
Ms. Rose Had Other Ideas
One day I brought a stack of books,
most of them banned in decent LDS
households, to the checkout counter.
Ms. Rose looked up and smiled.
You are quite the reader, Pattyn.
You'll be a writer one day, I'll venture.
I shook my head. "Not me.
Who'd want to read anything
I have to say?"
She smiled. How about you?
Why don't you start
with a journal?
So I gave her the whole
lowdown about why journaling
was not my thing.
A very good reason to keep
a journal just for you. One
you don't have to write in.
A day or two later, she gave
me one -- plump, thin-lined,
with a plain denim cover.
Decorate it with your words,
she said. And don't be afraid
of what goes inside.
I Wasn't Sure What She Meant
Until I opened the stiff-paged volume
and started to write.
At first, rather ordinary fare
garnished the lines.
Feb. 6. Good day at school. Got an A
on my history paper.
Feb. 9. Roberta has strep throat. Great!
Now we'll all get it.
But as the year progressed, I began
to feel I was living in a stranger's body.
Mar. 15. Justin Proud smiled at me today.
I can't believe it! And I can't believe
how it made me feel. Kind of tingly all over,
like I had an itch I didn't want to scratch.
An itch you-know-where.
Mar. 17. I dreamed about Justin last night.
Dreamed he kissed me, and I kissed him back,
and I let him touch me all over my body
and I woke up all hot and blushing.
Blushing! Like I'd done something wrong.
Can a dream be wrong?
Aren't dreams God's way
of telling you things?
Justin Proud
Was one of the designated
"hot bods" on campus.
No surprise all the girls
hotly pursued that bod.
The only surprise was my
subconscious interest.
I mean, he was anything
but a good Mormon boy.
And I, allegedly being
a good Mormon girl,
was supposed to keep
my feminine thoughts pure.
Easy enough, while struggling
with stacks of books,
piles of paper, and mounds
of adolescent angst.
Easy enough, while chasing
after a herd of siblings,
each the product of lustful,
if legally married, behavior.
Easy enough, while watching
other girls pant after him.
But just how do you maintain
pure thoughts when you dream?
Copyright ©2006 by Ellen Hopkins
Continues...
Excerpted from Burned by Ellen Hopkins Copyright © 2006 by Ellen Hopkins. Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Product details
- ASIN : B001MCBEQ4
- Publisher : Margaret K. McElderry Books; Reissue edition (June 20, 2008)
- Publication date : June 20, 2008
- Language : English
- File size : 7182 KB
- Text-to-Speech : Enabled
- Screen Reader : Supported
- Enhanced typesetting : Enabled
- X-Ray : Enabled
- Word Wise : Not Enabled
- Sticky notes : On Kindle Scribe
- Print length : 561 pages
- Best Sellers Rank: #57,656 in Kindle Store (See Top 100 in Kindle Store)
- #26,838 in Whispersync for Voice
- #55,187 in Kindle eBooks
- Customer Reviews:
About the author
I was adopted at birth and raised by a great, loving older couple. I grew up in Palm Springs CA, although we summered in Napa and Lake Tahoe, to avoid those 120 degree summers. After my adopted parents died, I did find my birth mother, who lives in Michigan with my half sister.
I studied journalism in college, but left school to marry, raise kids and start my own business--a video store, before the mega-chains were out there. After a divorce, I met my current husband and we moved to Tahoe to become ski bums and otherwise try to find our dreams. At that time, I went to work for a small alternative press, writing stories and eventually editing.
When we moved down the mountain to the Reno area, I started writing nonfiction books, many of which you can see here. The rest are viewable on my personal website. I also continued to freelance articles for newspapers and magazines.
All that has changed, with the publication of my novel, CRANK, which has led to a valued career writing YA novels in verse, all of which explore the more difficult situations young adults often find themselves in. Will I ever write one in prose? No doubt! But, for the moment, writing novels in verse fulfills two needs: writing poetry and writing fiction. The combination is so interesting!
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Top reviews
Top reviews from the United States
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Ellen Hopkins writes all of her novels in verse. This style of writing resembles a poem, but is written in sentences, just like a regular story. What makes this so unique are the hidden messages in the chapters. In some chapters the end or beginning of each line can make another sentence that is related to the story. In the chapter titled "I'd Done It" the beginning of each sentence created a line of words that read, "Lied, Cheated, Stolen, Invaded, Infiltrated, Lost, Struggling, Surrendering, Unsetting, Forgetting more and more of my feminine role. (Location 1980-7013)" The chapter is Pattyn narrating her relationship with her first boyfriend, but she is also having trouble with her relationship with God and her role in her family. This use of creativity is something I rarely see in novels. Ellen Hopkins unique writing style and techniques keeps the reader interested the Pattyn's story.
Something that is important in any novel is character development. In Burned, the characters are well developed; this keeps the reader interested and builds a strong bond between the character and reader. Ellen Hopkins developed the characters in Burned so well that you begin to understand what Pattyn is feeling. Ellen Hopkins writes all of her characters very well because she understands her audience so well.
Pattyn's story moves very quick, sometimes a little too fast, but the reader remains interested and connected to the story and the characters. The plot development is my favorite part of the story. By the end of this story, Pattyn is contemplating killing her father, but you are left to make your own choice about what will happen next. This cliffhanger type ending leaves the reader wanting more of Pattyn's story and more of Ellen Hopkins writing. Ellen Hopkins writing keeps the reader intrigued because the story is so relatable, even if something like what Pattyn is going through has never happened to the reader.
Burned is an interesting, quick paced novel about a young girl who is experiencing many new things. Ellen Hopkins, the author of this novel, uses a unique writing technique and style, relatable characters, and amazing plot development to keep the reader interested and connected to the story. Ellen Hopkins has written another hit novel and I hope that she keeps them coming!
This is a great story line that touches all the soft spots. Captivating. I am currently in search of a squeal to this novel. If anyone knows if it exists, and the title of it, please let me know!
Top reviews from other countries
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Warum hat ihr Vater sie nochmal zur Tante geschickt?
Er wollte sie doch bestrafen für ihr unzüchtiges, glaubenswidriges Verhalten. Eigentlich müsste (meiner Logik nach) sein höchstes Anliegen doch dasjenige sein, sie wieder zum Glauben hin umzupolen und nicht, sie zur abtrünnigen Tante zu schicken. Hat er diese "Kleinigkeit" denn übersehen, nur um sie besonders schnell loszuwerden?