Sometimes working titles survive everything the book-production process can throw at them. The new project comes in with a title everyone assumes will be replaced, eventually, by something better, but then the whole team gets used to it, every new option is shot down for various reasons, and the placeholder title seems OK by comparison.
Maybe not just OK – it’s the way everyone is thinking about the book.
And, eventually, the cover has to be designed and the placeholder title is put in type, and, gosh! it looks just fine there, so whaddayaknow: that’s the actual title.
I don’t know that happened with Faith Erin Hicks’ 2023 graphic novel
. But it’s the style of title that makes me very suspicious.
This is a teen romance drama, heavier on the teen drama than the romance, which is mostly light and casual. Our central character, as implied in the title, is Alix, the star player on her teen hockey team on Vancouver Island.
Alix is a loner and not good at social interactions. She also seems to be about six feet tall and pretty muscular; we think that has a lot to do with it. (She’s big even on her hockey team.) But probably more pertinently, she’s been bullied by her team captain Lindsay, for what seems like years – and the other players quietly let it happen, so Lindsay doesn’t focus on them.
(The unwritten story here is how horrible their coach is: she sees and allows this behavior from the team captain because, apparently, the team wins consistently. I don’t know about legal requirements in Canada, but, where I live, the coach would be a mandated reporter and could – wait, I mean should – lose her job for turning a blind eye to such toxic behavior.)
Anyway, after one game at the very beginning of this book, Lindsay goes off on a tirade against Alix – how she’s no good at anything except hockey, will never have a boyfriend, is the worst person ever, that kind of thing – and Alix just hauls off and socks her.
Now, I have never been a teenage girl. But in my years as a teenage boy, when similar things happened, – and they happened quite a lot – both participants would be disciplined, for slightly different reasons, and told nothing like that could ever happen again.
But in Canada, in the year 2023, among young women, in this book at least, it’s all Alix’s fault, and the coach pulls her into an office to ask seriously why this happened and “where this violence came from.” Um, one – hockey, and two – sustained endemic bullying from an authority figure! This is not actually difficult for a coach who has any idea what she is doing…which this one clearly does not.
This is our plot. Alix, who had one completely understandable and long-overdue moment of rage, needs to learn to control her anger. And her coach, having no professional skills in this as in everything else in her purview, leaves Alix to figure out something on her own as a seventeen-year-old, instead of referring her to a counselor or booking her into the league anger-management group or anything else serious and constructive that a coach with actual resources would have done.
Alix instead goes to school the next day, where she sees a classmate, Ezra, facing down his own bully, Greg – who, in the overdetermined world of high-school drama, is also Lindsay’s boyfriend, though this plot point doesn’t really become important – through words. So she, in her clumsy-galoot way, asks Ezra to teach her not to hit people when they bully her, which, again, she apparently has only done once in her life in the first place.
Ezra, one of the Drama People who are eternally at war with the Jocks, as told in legends and ’80s movies since time immemorial, agrees to this random weird request from a gigantic girl he’s never really interacted with. And they start hanging out, since Ezra doesn’t have an anger-management course or specific lessons he can just tell her to begin with.
Ezra’s friends run the gamut of mildly supportive to strongly opposed: how dare he spend any time with someone who is regularly in physical vicinity to bullies like Lindsay and Greg?
Oh! And also, everyone at school thinks Ezra is gay, since he’s only dated boys in highschool. (He’s actually one of these modern “I don’t want to put labels on it” kind of person who is not “bisexsual” even though he admits he’s attracted to both boys and girls – and, we the readers think, any other kind of person he meets, probably.)
Alix starts developing a crush on Ezra, thinking it’s impossible. Ezra is the kind of bisexual totally unique unlabel-able teenage sex-god-thing who wants everyone to live and/or love him. They are both dramatic in their own ways, because they are teenagers and it comes with the territory.
There’s also an undercurrent of “what do you want to do with your life, and do your parents approve?” Both Alix and Ezra have been raised by single mothers with dramatic backstories – Alix’s mom is a “Canadian-famous” sculptor who went strongly against her own parents’ wishes to go into the arts and whose husband ran away sometime after Alix’s birth to play hockey in the States and apparently has had no contact since; Ezra’s mom was abused by his father until ten-year-old Ezra stood up to him with a knife and drove him out of the house.
Consequently, Alix’s mom is strongly anti-hockey, and doesn’t see the flashing, direct, incredibly obvious parallels between her parents’ “it would be crazy for my teen daughter to work so hard on this thing with a very low chance of career success!” arguments and hers. And Ezra is cold to his mother’s boyfriend, a perfectly nice guy who seems to have been around for a while and plans to stick around permanently.
Like I said: more drama than romance. Alix and Ezra do eventually work out the “he’d be more than happy to kiss her, too” thing, and they do kiss and hold hands. But the plot-driven Dramatic Stuff takes up most of the book.
I found it a bit overstuffed: there’s too many bits of drama, which proliferate as the book goes on, and there’s not quite enough space to let it all breathe naturally. A number of things are suspiciously convenient – such as Alix’s father’s location and the ease of contacting him – when they need to be, and adult reactions also seem to be carefully calibrated to keep the drama running on the right track to the ending Hicks wants.
So my sense is that Hockey Girl Loves Drama Boy wanted to be bigger than it was – maybe two books, one mostly Hockey Girl to start and a concluding volume mostly Drama Boy. It all works as it is – Hicks is an old hand at this, and tells stories well – but there’s more material here than quite fits comfortably into the package.
