January 25, 2010

BSC #27, Jessi and the Superbrat: Fame! Jessi’s Gonna Live Forever!

Posted in books tagged , , , at 9:33 pm by Jenn

Those are some ugly triplets

Summary: Jessi learns that a kid named Derek Masters, who stars on a TV show, used to live in Stoneybrook. Then, coincidentally, he comes back to town! Wow, who could have seen that coming? Also coincidentally, Jessi winds up sitting for him and learning all sorts of stuff about Hollywood. Derek encourages Jessi to move out to L.A. and become a model or actress or something, despite the fact that she’s a dancer and those things don’t necessarily have anything to do with each other. Jessi’s in the midst of auditioning for a community production of Swan Lake, and she uses the idea of going to L.A. to distract herself, or something. I don’t know.

Basically the only other stuff that happens in the book involves Derek and people’s reactions to him. The “superbrat” refers to a kid Derek talks about who’s mean to him, but – shocker! – Derek is actually the superbrat. Yeah, who cares? We want Hollywood dirt, kid!

Thoughts: You can tell this book is from the ’80s because Derek is bullied and doesn’t bring a gun to school to exact revenge.

I love how the shows the Stoneybrook Civic Center puts on are this big deal, like Stoneybrook isn’t a nothing town so small kids can bike across it. Actually, I love how there’s an actual Stoneybrook Civic Center. And how Stamford is apparently the equivalent of New York. Nice fake geography in your fake town, Ann M. Martin.

Karen, who’s obsessed with being a star, makes up a little play about…well, wanting to be a star. And as annoying as Karen usually is, the play is exactly something a six-year-old would come up with. For once, the ghostwriter got something completely right.

The BSC girls throw a breakfast party for Derek and his classmates before he returns to L.A., since the morning is the only time they can find to have a party, and Kristy makes the girls wear robes so the kids know they’re the ones in charge. Because they can’t tell the difference between eight-year-olds and teenagers? Give the kids a little credit, Kristy.

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