Despite being a junior at just fourteen, on the scrawny side, and with, in his opinion, the highest degree of “loserosity” imaginable, Ryan Dean West is determined that this year is going to be a year of change: mostly by surviving rooming with Pine Mountain Academy’s biggest bully, Chas, and winning the girl of his dreams, Annie Altman. But Ryan Dean has a talent for getting into trouble, even when he doesn’t mean to... As term progresses Ryan Dean is seduced by the smoking hot Megan Renshaw, becomes the multiple receiver of curse-spells from the distinctly un-hot Mrs. Singer, and is quickly hemorrhaging friends. But what’s the worse that can happen? Beaten to death by Chas for (a) making out with Megan and (b) being a general loser? Losing Annie? Suffering a catastrophic penis injury? Or, perhaps, learning the terrible power that words can have. Despite his habit of putting girls into certain boxes, Ryan Dean is well aware that one word can make you feel different, that one word can make people view you in a wholly different way. Winger is a small piece of genius. It is funny and heart-breaking and truthful. It starts as one kind of story then gradually becomes something else – like real life, there are twists and turns and corners you can’t see around; events lurking out of sight that no matter how good and brave and full of love Ryan Dean is, he will be powerless to change. There’s a taste of the quirky style and sense of humour so evident in Andrew Smith’s Grasshopper Jungle (but tamed down a little), and the text is interwoven with Venn diagrams, pie charts, block charts, cartoons, imaginary conversations and letters that add a certain je ne sais quoi to Ryan Dean’s thoughts and emotions. This is The Great American Novel, the YA generation. Looking for Alaska meets The Art of Fielding, with the Andrew Smith magic thrown in. In the meantime, though, can Ryan Dean tame his inner Wild Boy and, against all the odds, win the girl?