Ellen Hopkins
When Crank first released in October 2004, I knew it was an important story. But I could not have predicted its phenomenal success. The story in Crank, and in its sequel, Glass, is shared by so many. But even those whose lives have never been touched by this particular monster are drawn to Kristina. Despite her many flaws, they come to care about her and her family. Especially her children.
Originally, I never planned a sequel to Crank. But readers wanted more of her story and I could probably write ten books about her fall from grace. But series tend to degrade over time, and I don’t want to give my readers progressively weaker books. Rather, I wanted the third and final Kristina book to be the most powerful of the three. And I believe I’ve done that with Fallout.
The book is written from the points of view of her three oldest children, now teens in the book, and dealing with their own lives, which are shaped by the choices she made when she was their age. At the time I write this description, the real “Hunter” is thirteen, but I write him at nineteen in Fallout. Which means I’ve written the future. Please remember it’s only one possible future, created from how I see these children’s lives now. And also please remember that, while these books are rooted in our real life, they are largely fiction.
I chose to write from her children’s POVs to give them a voice, and to give a voice to my readers who struggle with their own parents’ addictions. There are many. But I also believe the ultimate hope of these stories lies here, with the generation that can choose to break this cycle. You will get “the rest of Kristina’s story,” through different lenses because “the monster” doesn’t only destroy the addict. It tries to destroy everyone who loves him or her. Parents. Children. Partners. Spouses. Friends. If this describes you, stay strong. Get help if you need it. You might find a sense of peace and community in an organization like Al-Anon. You are not alone.
That life was good
before she
met
the monster,
but those page flips
went down before
our collective
cognition. Kristina
wrote
that chapter of her
history before we
were even whispers
in her womb.
The monster shaped
our
lives, without our ever
touching it. Read on
if you dare. This
memoir
isn’t pretty.
Hunter Seth Haskins
All about her. Who
she
really is. (Was?) Why
she swerved off
the high road. Hard
left
to nowhere,
recklessly
indifferent to
me,
Hunter Seth Haskins,
her firstborn
son. I’ve been
choking
that down for
nineteen years.
Why did she go
on
her mindless way,
leaving me spinning
in a whirlwind of
her dust?
Her story, I’ll try
my best to enlighten
you, though I’m not sure
of every word of it myself.
I suppose I should know
more. I mean, it has been
recorded for eternity—
a bestselling fictionalization,
so the world wouldn’t see
precisely who we are—
my mixed up, messed
up family, a convoluted
collection of mostly regular
people, somehow strengthened
by indissoluble love, despite
an ever-present undercurrent
of pain. The saga started here:
reviews from Publishers Weekly:
"The final installment of the trilogy that began with CRANK and GLASS examines the impact of Kristina's methamphetamine addiction on three of her children, now teens. Though not raised by their mother, they are still 'dealing with the fallout of choices' she made, beginning in her own teenage years, as the narratives shifts among them. Hunter is quick to anger and experiments with substances, too; Autumn suffers from OCD and panic attacks because 'things happened' when she was little; and Summer bounces around to different foster homes before running away with her boyfriend. Fans will recognize the author's trademark style: this is a gritty, gripping collection of free verse and concrete poems. Hopkins neatly creates news articles attributed to Associated Press, Variety, and other sources, clueing reading in to the fates of other characters from the first two books. In the end, readers will be drawn into the lives of each of these struggling teens as they deal with complicated home lives, first loves, and a mostly absent mother who 'wants to love them' but is too damaged to do so." —Publishers Weekly