“...Sones (Stop Pretending) poignantly captures the tingle and heartache of being young and boy-crazy ... With its separate free verse poems woven into a fluid and coherent narrative with a satisfying ending, Sophie’s honest and earthy story feels destined to captivate a young female audience, avid and reluctant readers alike.”
“... romantic and sexy, with a happy ending that leaves Sophie together with Mr. Right, Sones (Stop Pretending: What Happened when My Big Sister Went Crazy, 1999 ) has crafted a verse experience that will leave teenage readers sighing with recognition and satisfaction.”
“... hilarious and irreverent in the style of Naylor's Alice books. The poetry is never pretentious or difficult; on the contrary, the very short, sometimes rhythmic lines make each page fly. Sophie’s voice is colloquial and intimate, and the discoveries she makes are beyond formula, even while they are as sweetly romantic as popular song. A natural for reluctant readers, this will also attract young people who love to read.”
“... The poems are snappy, and each one strikes a chord that fluidly moves the reader on to the next episode. Whether she is socking a boy who molests her on the street, purchasing a half dozen sperm-shaped-print panties off the discount rack, or watching her parents finally split apart, Sophie is a strong, likeable, and memorable character.”
“... Sones is a bright, perceptive writer who digs deeply into her protagonist’s soul ... Sones’s poems are glimpses through a peephole many teens may be peering through for the first time, unaware that others are seeing virtually the same new, scary, unfamiliar things ... Sones’s book makes these often-difficult years a little more livable by making them real, normal, and OK.”
“... From the opening poem “Nicknames,” to the closing “I Slink Into the Cafeteria,” What my Mother Doesn't Know captures the sweet confusion of being a teen girl in love for the first time. And the second. And the third.”
“What makes this young adult novel so winning is that Sophie’s story is told entirely in freewheeling verse—a 14-year-old’s discomfort with her “fifty-foot” self set to the tender rhythms of a teenage poet.”
