Kevin Major St. John's, Newfoundland, Canada E-Mail

Far From Shore
ISBN 0-7736-7439-X, Stoddart, $5.99

	The Story:	Enter the life of a fifteen-year-old Newfoundlander, Chris Slade. Faced with instability on many sides, Chris gropes for direction in a family broken apart by unemployment. Even his easy-going, humourous attitude fails to steady him as he stumbles through drinking experiences and a confrontation with the law. Work as a counsellor at a summer camp offers the challenge of a fresh start, but it is here, amid new responsibilities, that he encounters his toughest test.
Reviews	School Library Journal	"A finely honed sense of character and an excellent ear for authentic dialogue...readers are once more served well by this young Canadian novelist."
	Maclean's	"Kevin Major's story is a brave look at how a tough period can harden a boy like a nut. Brilliantly, Major tackles the story in five voices... (He) has pulled powerfully at unwilling cords, making sense of the most confusing battleground there is."
	Books Now	"...Major understands teenage boys in a way that few writers since J.D. Salinger have done. Chris is a believable teenager, irritating, lovable, clownish, serious... In short, he's very much like boys we all know."
Award		Canadian Library Association Young Adult Book Award
Excerpt		No getting up at five-thirty anymore, especially after not making it to bed till two, but I don't call it Christmas if you don't get up a bit early and tear open a few presents. Say seven-thirty. Who wants to sleep in on Christmas morning? Jennifer for one. I can just imagine the sour look that comes across her face when I knocks on her bedroom door and opens it up a bit. "Gonna get up or what?" It looks to me like she's trying to pretend she's asleep. I ask her again. "What time is it?" she snarls. "Seven-thirty." Perhaps I should toss her a chunk of raw meat to quiet her down. "Go back to bed." "Com'on, it's Christmas morning." "You know where you can go." "Com'on. Wait till you see what I got you." "I can just imagine. Where's Mom?" she says. "In her room, I spose." "When she gets up, I'll get up. Now go on back to bed." "Jennifer." "What?" "You know something?" "What!" "You're turning into one pain in the neck." "Oh shut up and get out of the room." Contrary. My son, contrary is too good a word for that these days. I daresay if she swallowed a nail, it'd come out a screw. Ever since she broke up with Scott you can't look at her sideways.