Dani Noir (Hardcover)

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If this were a movie, you'd open to the first page of this book and be transported to a whole other world. Everything would be in black and white, except maybe for the girl in pink polka-dot tights, and this really great music would start to swell in the background. All of a sudden, you wouldn't be able to help it -- you'd be a part of the story, you'd be totally sucked in. You'd be in this place, filled with big lies, mysterious secrets, and a tween girl turned sleuth....

Zoom in on thirteen-year-old Dani Callanzano. It's the summer before eighth grade, and Dani is stuck in her nothing-ever-happens town with only her favorite noir mysteries at the Little Art movie theater to keep her company.

But one day, a real-life mystery begins to unravel -- at the Little Art! And it all has something to do with a girl in polka-dot tights.... Armed with a vivid imagination, a flair for the dramatic, and her knowledge of all things Rita Hayworth, Dani sets out to solve the mystery, and she learns more about herself than she ever though she could.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

1

What Would Rita Hayworth Do?

A slow fade-in on my life:

There's this little mountain town, smack between two long highways that go nowhere in either direction. There's the one supermarket, the one movie theater, the one Chinese restaurant. But there are twelve different places to buy junk for your lawn.

It's summer so the days are longer than you can stand. If you want air-conditioning, walk to the convenience store on the corner and take your time searching for an ice pop.

There's this girl. She's thirteen, but if I say she's going on fourteen it might sound better. She's nobody really. You probably wouldn't notice her if I didn't point her out. She's got brown hair to her chin, and bangs that need cutting, and when she reads she has to wear glasses. Today she's got on a tank top that says SUPERSTAR, but that's a big lie so go ahead and ignore it.

She's sitting up on the roof of her house, because that's the only place where she gets cell phone reception. She checks her phone, finds no messages, not even a text. A truck drives by, doesn't honk. A mosquito sticks its fang in her knee, she smashes it.

Are you asleep yet?

She's me, I'm her. And we're both bored to the gills.

If this were a movie, I would've walked out by now.

So let's cut to black. Roll the credits. Drop the curtain, if this place even has a curtain. Kick the slimy dregs of popcorn under the seat and head home.

Except that would be too soon. Because -- just like a movie -- there's about to be some big drama when you least expect it. Mine begins when my mom pops her head out the upstairs bathroom window.

Her eyes are puffy -- I see this first. Not a good sign.

"Danielle," she calls. "Come inside so we can talk before you go."

"I can't," I say. "I'm sunbathing." Notice I'm flat-out ignoring the fact that she said I'm going anywhere. This is because I'm not. Going, that is. I'm staying right here.

"Sunbathing? It's four thirty in the afternoon and you're in the shade. You haven't even started packing yet. Don't tell me you're out there waiting for Maya to call...."

Maya -- she's my best friend. Or she used to be. We met the second day in seventh grade: Fourth-period gym, she held my ankles for sit-ups, I held hers. She was from Willow Elementary and I was from Shanosha Elementary, but soon it was like we'd known each other forever, like her ankles were my ankles and mine were hers. We were inseparable. But ever since she moved an hour-and-a-half away to Poughkeepsie three months ago, she forgot about all that. She's never on iChat anymore and she never calls.

So what if I'm up on the roof waiting for her to call? Or for anyone to call. Even my big brother, Casey, who's away at soccer camp -- I wouldn't want to talk to him anyway. If he called maybe I'd pick up and say thanks for leaving me here all by myself to rot, and then I'd hang up on him. But Mom doesn't have to know all that.

"Come inside," she says. "We need to talk."

"Talk to me out here," I say. "I can hear you just fine."

"All right. If you won't come inside..."

I wait.

She waits.

The mosquitoes hover.

It's a battle of the wills and I win. It's at this moment that she asks the dumbest question ever: "Dani, do you need help packing your socks?"

Socks! In summer! "Is that what you wanted to talk to me about, really?"

Her voice tightens. "No." But she doesn't say what else it could be. She just says, "You should get packing. Your father's on his way here." Her face gets all crumply as she admits this.

Obviously she's trying to keep from crying. It must be because she just talked to him on the phone. This happens every time he calls: She gets bright pink, her eyes go leaky, and then she holes up in her room.

She's been like this ever since Dad left. Most of the time, like at the newspaper in town where she works, she's a perfectly normal person you wouldn't feel mortified to be seen with. But when she's home with me, she's this other person. She's not my mom anymore but a wobbly pink-headed impostor walking around blowing her nose and pretending she's my mom. I don't know how to act when she's like this. It makes me say things maybe I shouldn't.

Like now. She says, "Come inside, Dani. Please? Your dad's almost here."

And what I could say is Okay. I could cut her some slack, you know I should. But instead I say, "And that has to do with me because..."

But I'm allowed to be sarcastic. I'm at a "difficult" age, in a "difficult" situation, and you're a liar if you think you wouldn't milk it.

"Because I told you. He's on his way to pick you up right now. You knew this was his weekend. Stop stalling."

This is when the scene goes dark and the music gets loud and, I don't know, thunder crashes in the sky over my head or something. This is when you'd see a close-up of a mouth and hear the scream.

Because I've been telling her and telling her that I'm not going. I've told her like twenty million times. I haven't packed a single thing for the trip and I'm sitting out here on the roof pretending to get a tan but really catching malaria from all the mosquitoes and does this look like I'm going somewhere, does it?

They can't make me go.

Someone will have to drag me kicking and screaming down the driveway, and if the kicking and the screaming don't work I'll just do one of those nonviolent protests where you play dead so you're as heavy as possible, like a sack of bricks.

I'll make myself like bricks just how Gandhi used to do. At least, I think that was Gandhi, or maybe he was the guy who didn't eat. Anyway, if I have to, I'll pretend to be Gandhi, and who could possibly force me in my dad's car then?

My mom ducks down to grab a tissue. Then her head pops back up, and that's all I see of her, her head, bobbing there like a hot-pink balloon.

She bats her eyes to keep from crying, except all it does is make her nose drip more. She's a wreck. Just listen to her:

"Danielle, you have to go." Sniffle. "Even if it's not what I want, you know the judge said..." Sniffle. "I know your dad moved in with that" -- she stops herself -- "with Cheryl, but that's where he lives now." Sniffle. "Dani, can't you understand? You have to go. It's the law...." (Here a loud, wet honk as she blows her nose.)

The way she's talking makes me think that what she really wants is for me to not pack my socks, to not go.

Then she leaves the window and heads out of sight -- I figure to lock herself in her room and soak her pillow. I can make fun of how often my mom cries, but that's because I picked her. In the Cooper-Callanzano divorce of this past winter, let the record show that I chose my mom's side.

Now that my mom has given up, now that no one cares and no one's looking, it gets a little boring out here on the roof. Another truck drives by, doesn't honk. I swat away one last mosquito and climb through the window back into my room.

I take a seat on my bed. My mom put my suitcase there -- it's open, empty, waiting for me to shove it full of stuff to take with me. I look at it, and I've lost all the bars on my cell phone, and no one's calling anyway, and I ask myself the only question worth asking: What would Rita Hayworth do?

Rita Hayworth was this old Hollywood movie star -- all glamour and mystery like in those black-and-white movies people like to call "films."

Most kids my age have no clue who she is. When they think of a big movie star they think of someone like Jessica Alba. But if Jessica and Rita Hayworth were in the same scene and the cameras were rolling you'd forget Jessica was even there. And that's not to dis Jessica Alba.

All I'm saying is Rita Hayworth was something. Say there was this movie and both Rita Hayworth and Jessica Alba were in it. Jessica would say her lines and she'd be great like usual, but then it would be Rita Hayworth's turn.

Rita Hayworth would toss her hair (red in real life, but in black-and-white it could be any color). She'd blink super slow, like she was underwater. Then she'd turn, finally, and settle her eyes on Jessica. It would take a few seconds but feel like forever and you wouldn't be able to stop staring. Then Rita Hayworth would say maybe one word, drawing it out, making it sound like the most beautiful word anyone could say, like, in any language, ever. The word could be "hi" or "mayonnaise," it doesn't matter. And before you know it, Rita Hayworth will have eaten Jessica Alba alive.

That's why I think of her. Rita Hayworth wouldn't let anyone push her around, not even Mom and Dad. She'd do what she wanted, and no sorrys after.

Rita Hayworth could hide her emotions down where you'd never find them. She'd make you think she didn't care when, really, she cared more than anything. And if someone told her to go someplace -- because it's the law and the state of New York says so -- what she'd do is wait till you weren't looking, and then she'd leave for someplace else.

So I decide to make things a little more difficult. Not for myself -- for my dad.

Cue the daydream sequence: Dad's car pulls in. He honks from the driveway because he doesn't want to come into the house. He waits and waits and his car's leaking oil and he's all spazzy under the seat belt because he's got that bad back -- but I still don't come out of the house. I never come out because I'm not home. It's the first court-ordered visitation and I'm not here to go. That'll show him.

Cut back to real life, and I'm still sitting in my bedroom. Dad hasn't made his way here yet. What I have to do is find a way out before he does.

If this were a movie, I'd jump out the window. A good enough plan, I guess. But if this were an old movie -- like from the 1940s before all that color, the kind of movie called a "film," one where you'd find someone like Rita Hayworth -- I wouldn't even have to jump.

It'd be nighttime, of course, not 4:42 in the afternoon. There'd be this killer bright light coming in from the window, but in it you'd see only half my face. It's more cinematic that way. My hair's dark ...

Product Details

• Reading level: Ages 9-12
  
• Hardcover: 272 pages
• Publisher: Aladdin (September 22, 2009)
• Language: English
• ISBN-10: 1416975640
• ISBN-13: 978-1416975649
• Product Dimensions: 8.8 x 6 x 1.1 inches
• Shipping Weight: 10.4 ounces (View shipping rates and policies)
• Average Customer Review: 4.7 out of 5 stars  See all reviews (12 customer reviews)
• Amazon.com Sales Rank: #13,321 in Books (See Bestsellers in Books)

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3 of 3 people found the following review helpful:

4.0 out of 5 stars Oh, Dani Noir, the phones the phones are calling . . ., September 22, 2009

By	E. R. Bird "Ramseelbird" (Manhattan, NY) - See all my reviews (TOP 50 REVIEWER)    (REAL NAME)

When a tragedy or change strikes a family, sometimes the kids will grasp at whatever sense of stability they can. Novels for youth may include foster children and the kids of divorcees grasping at everything from saving Redwood forests to becoming the lead in the school play, as long as it means concentrating on something outside of their own misery. To the best of my knowledge, however, I've never seen a middle grade novel where the main character went in for noir cinema. Dani Noir does just that though. First time novelist Nova Ren Suma presents us with a sympathetic if not entirely charming protagonist. Bound to create plenty of discussion, if you're looking for a book that will get kids talking, I think this one has your number.

When Dani's mom and dad split up she made one thing very clear; She wanted to stay with her mother and not her double-crossing, two timing, cheating traitor of a father. So why is her mother making her spend a weekend with the man? This summer, Dani hasn't any plans at all except to sit back in her tiny town's solitary art house theater and watch all the film noirs she can. Unfortunately, now she has her dad's new life (and new upcoming wife) to distract her, as well as a mystery at the theater. Who was that mysterious girl she saw exciting the projectionist booth unawares? Is there a double cross going on? Who's going to find out? Conjuring up everything from Gilda to Double Indemnity, this Rita Hayworth-obsessed heroine finds a mystery of her own and sets out to solve it. But are all mysteries meant to be solved? And what happens when uncovering the crime makes you more culpable than the people committing it?

Suma does a nice job with Dani's voice. This particular heroine has a tendency to waver between the inherent romanticism and drama of her black and white noir world, and the reality of her low-rent little town. Right on page one she tells you, "There's the one supermarket, the one movie theater, the one Chinese restaurant. But there are twelve different places to buy junk for your lawn." Really, the descriptions in this book are a lot of the fun. Sentences like this one about putting butter on movie popcorn may even make you physically ill. "The what-we-assume-is-butter sinks down into the lower reaches of the popcorn slowly, like ear wax coming alive and spreading down your body to your feet." Suma also describes characters in an almost visceral sense. Of the mysterious "other woman" Dani has taken to spotting, she says that the girl has, "... oddest of all, footless tights with spots all over them, dark pink and star white, like she broke out in some sort of heinous rash just on her legs." Or of her future stepsister, "Her eyes are like the sharp little stones you step on when you're running down the driveway to get the mail..."

In a book of this sort, the primary difficulty comes in maintaining Dani as the kind of person you want to read about. To be blunt, she is often not very likeable. Sympathetic, oh yes! But not likeable. I'd love to poll kids on the moment when they start breaking with her, mentally criticizing her for her choices. Near the beginning? Halfway through? Right at the end? Or are there kids out there who feel like Dani is justified on acting on her whims at the expense of others every step of the way? For me it was around page 16 when you hear Dani say of her old friend Taylor, "I could compliment her hair, but I don't. Besides, she's in my way." Taylor, for the record, is a pretty interesting character too. She begins the book just as someone for Dani to be dismissive of. The kind of girl who has t-shirts with fuzzy tiger heads on them, and unicorns on her books. But as the book goes on, Taylor becomes the kind of person who would normally be the hero of a middle grade novel. She learns, grows, and even begins to question why she would even want to be friends with Dani as the story goes on. I do believe that there will be some kids out there who don't like Dani and who will put down the book because they can't make themselves spend any more time with her. Most, however, may not like her but they'll relate to her, and in the long run that's what's more important.

There were particularly contemporary plot details that I thought worked very well in the context of the story. Perhaps the use of Facebook in the plot will date it as the years go by, but I prefer to think of it as an element that simply solidifies it in a specific moment in time. As for cell phones, Suma's very good at using them perfectly. Sometimes I feel like many middle grade authors today are more comfortable writing historical fiction because they won't have to deal with the problem of how to incorporate cell phones into their stories. Smart authors use them strategically like Ms. Suma does here. Everything from ringtones to spotty cell service caused by nearby mountainsides has a purpose here. A tip of the hat to that.

Not to give anything away, but I was very pleased with how the book ended. Aw, what the heck. Spoiler alert if you don't want to know the ending! Okay. So at the end of the book Dani could do a crazy 180 degree turnaround that is completely wrong for her character, and embrace her new stepfamily. Doesn't happen. Her dad is a jerk of the first order and he's not getting off the hook all that easily. And while there may be some hint that Dani will be going to his upcoming wedding after all, I wouldn't necessarily bet on it. That's part of the charm of Dani Noir. Even while you may not agree with everything it does, you are emotionally involved from page one onward. Dani's anger and frustration is your anger and frustration. So at least she's understandable.

It's funny, but there's a fellow debut middle grade novel that has come out in 2009 that acts as almost a companion to this book. Neil Armstrong is My Uncle and Other Lies Muscle Man McGinty Told Me by Nan Marino would never be confused with Dani Noir but on paper the similarities are there. Both books star bullying, selfish, single-minded female protagonists who are dealing with the fact that their best female friends recently moved away and their parents are not getting along smoothly. In both cases there's a boy who goes out of his way to be nice to our heroine in spite of the fact that she treats him like garbage. There's even an older absent brother in both of the books who is unable to give our heroine the support that she really needs. Of course, these are just surface similarities. You'll find the tone of the two tales very different indeed, but I still think that kids who like one will be naturally drawn to the other.

Though it stands entirely on its own, Dani Noir may be one of those books that lends itself to a sequel or two. Certainly Dani's story isn't done. Nor, for that matter, are the stories of her friends. It will be interesting to see the extent to which kids go for a character this self-involved. Still, let's remember that Katherine Paterson's The Great Gilly Hopkins was the ultimate litmus test in me-focused children's novels. The real question may be this; Does Dani change enough by the book's end? Some will say yes. Some will say no. I say, read the book for yourself and find out.

2 of 2 people found the following review helpful:

5.0 out of 5 stars Encore--wishing for a sequel to this book, October 3, 2009

By	Christine Lee Zilka (Berkeley, CA USA) - See all my reviews

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Confession: I am not a tween. I am...uh...I am the age of someone who could be the mother of a tween. But I read this book anyway, with no affinity for noir movies and uh, being outside the age range of the book's audience. I do, however, have an affinity for sharp writing, a voice I can fall in love with, characters I can root for over the span of 100+ pages, and a plot that takes me out of my life and into the life of said characters.

Nova Ren Suma hits it out of the ballpark with Dani's voice and the characters in this novel. Dani's struggles with friendships, alienation, a long summer, and family are universal themes for everyone, including tweens, and so she is someone most readers can and will relate to. Additionally, Suma's writing is so sharp, the story so detailed, that I even found myself being very interested in noir movies, a genre that Suma uses to great effect in this novel, and uses in a way that doesn't exclude me as someone who isn't familiar with the noir movie genre--it is a great use of the metaphor and I loved it, so much so that I am wishing for a sequel to this book. I'd love to follow Dani's trajectory as she grows up--and I'm thinking tween readers would, too.

I wish this book existed when I was a tween.

2 of 2 people found the following review helpful:

5.0 out of 5 stars Made me want to watch Noir film..., September 26, 2009

By	Sarah Woodard (Bremerton, WA) - See all my reviews

Dani Callanzano is stuck in her nothing-ever-happens town with only her favorite noir mysteries at the Little Art movie theatre to keep her company. Her best friend has moved out of town and no longer calls Dani often. Her father also is getting remarried and she will be getting a mean sister-in-law, Nichole. So she is alone in the town. But one day a real-life mystery begins to unravel at Little Art! And it all has something to do with a girl in polka-dot tights. Dani is armed with a vivid imagination, a flair for the dramatic, and a knowledge of all things Rita Hayworth. She sets out to solve the mystery and learns more about herself than she ever thought that she would.
This book had an awesomeness that is hard to explain. Dani is stubborn, which is usual for most thirteen years old. I am going to have to check out some more noir movies, since I haven't seen them all. It was great to see Dani's love of movies and how passionate she was about all things Rita Hayworth. I also could relate to the problems at home and the lost of her best friend, because that happened to me around the same age. The plot was really interesting and created a great story. Suma was a great writer and created a story like no other. I recommend that you check out this book for a great mystery.