Reflection by Jessica Roberts: a 3/5 star read any preteen would love

“I still had forty long minutes with Miss Ice and Mister Fire Hands . . . Between the two of them I felt like fried ice cream.”

You want to learn how to write a good metaphor? Read Reflections by Jessica Roberts.

It tells the story of Heather, a methodical and untrusting young woman who is heading off to college.

When a jarring event puts her in a very vulnerable position, she has to learn how to break down her walls and trust.

The writing was poetry.

When Heather is heading to her first class of the day, the college hallway is described as a “fishbowl.” In my mind Heather is instantly morphed into a startled gold fish, unnerved by “the multitude on the outside of the glass.”

Not only did Roberts make good use of literary devices (this author used patterns ladies and gents), she also created strong tension between the character and her environment.

Goodness! Roberts knows how to use words to heighten the mood. Such actions as Heather having her arm touched becomes just as intense as a damsel being chased by thieves.

One of the problems I had with this novel is I disliked the third person to first person POV switches. Because Heather’s voice was not so different from the narrator’s,  I saw no need for them. The writing was strong enough for me to overlook the switches.

Problems I struggled to ignore were the slow pacing and the length of the chapters. A lot of the repetitive descriptions in the chapters could be cut out, making the novel perfect.

Even though Roberts did a very good job painting a realistic hospital environment, I could not get over Heather’s college experience. It seemed so high school to me.

To give Roberts some credit, I went to a university that took up a fourth of an entire town, making my college experience very different from Heather’s.

I give Reflections 3 stars. Readers ages 9 to 13 will thoroughly enjoy this book.  Go ahead Miss. Roberts! You’re on your way to defining a generation.

 “His voice pressed into my ear like a meteor trenching into the earth’s floor, sheathing my ear-way with deep, heat, hotter than his touch.”

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