YA or STFU

A Girl Like Me, by Ni-Ni Simone

Simone, Ni-Ni (2008). A Girl Like Me. NY: Dafina. 279 pages.

Published in 2008 by Dafina, an imprint of the independent publisher Kensington Publishing Corp (known for it’s “alternative” titles related to Wicca, GLBTQ issues and African-Americans), Simone’s A Girl Like Me falls decidedly in what I believe is the urban fiction influenced adolescent literary realm. While others might argue that Simone’s novel’s lack of sexual explication, violence, and focus on underground (illegal) lifestyles keeps this novel out of the urban lit. world, the book’s “Hood Cinderella” narrative is one that is a familiar trope in the genre.

After sixteen-year-old Elite wins a radio station contest and an opportunity to sing onstage with her favorite, up-and-coming R-and-B/hip-hop star Haneef, the two make an unexpected love connection. Haneef pursues Elite charmingly, ferrying her away from her city schoolyard in his limousine and treating her to a gourmet dinner on his yacht and inviting her to the VIP room at a hot Manhattan club. Trouble at Elite’s home prohibits the two from really connecting; because Elite’s mother is a crack addict, Elite must care for her younger brothers and sisters and conserve the family’s WIC check and her part-time sales job to make ends meet. When Haneef discovers Elite’s secret, he is helpful and supportive; however, just when things are starting to look up, Elite spies Haneef–on TV no less–kissing another R-and-B star at an awards show. Worse, he publicly disses Elite, whom the paparazzi disrespect as a hood rat.

Like much urban fiction influenced YA lit., Simone’s narrative is peppered with slang and set in a government-subsidized housing project; however, unlike adult urban fiction, A Girl Like Me focuses more on legal and traditional redemption, rather than on the manipulation of a broken system. It would be easy to draw parallels between Simone’s novel and, say, Meg Cabot’s “All American Girl” series, as both authors position their characters’ development against the backdrop of their heroines’ boyfriends’ rising stardom or notoriety. Furthermore, both skirt explicit sexuality and indulge in more than a little consumerist fantasy. Funny, but I get the feeling that most librarians are going to recommend the Cabot over the Simone. Insert ironic, knowing but also cynical comment here.

Simone’s got two other Dafina novels on the shelf at my local library. I intend to check these out and report back.