I tend to take a traditional approach to fiction. I learned the three elements of a story—plot, setting, character—pretty early, and it stuck because is made sense. The Secret Astronomers by Jessica Walker is an exception. Before genre or protagonist, above theme or prose, this book’s most remarkable feature is its format. It’s a tale told in sketches, notes, and occasional pieces of ephemera in an old high school textbook.
And it is so cool!
I love an epistolary style to begin with, but this book truly elevates epistolary to an art form. It reads like a mix of scrapbook, sketchbook, and record of passed notes. All the while, the background remains an old textbook, making the physical copy of The Secret Astronomers feel like that same textbook. I can’t remember the last time I read such an original, artistic book.
Of course, there is a story within that unique format! It’s the story of two teenagers in Appalachia—one local and one transplant. One has mixed feelings, one hates it here, and both want out. Readers first meet a grieving artist who feels unseen and misunderstood, and channels those feelings into tape, marker, and whiteout in a 19th-century astronomy textbook. And then, on tidy post-its, someone writes back.
The story follows the two in their senior year of high school as they explore future options and dig into a decades-old mystery. In some ways, this is a very grounded coming-of-age story. It also touches on a lot of important themes including addiction, poverty, and having a family member incarcerated. A lot of this is done in the background, but I appreciated how it humanized some of those struggles without seeking to preach. This isn’t an “issues” book. It’s a book about two young people moving forward while solving a decades-old mystery. Some sensitive topics are addressed in more detail and I felt they were addressed well. One character grew up in San Francisco and says a lot of things about Appalachia that are judgmental and hurtful, and I appreciated when she had been called out multiple times and admitted she told those jokes as a default—it took them several times to change. It was an example of a character’s flaws portrayed through this non-traditional narrative format. There are also great hints for a second-read bonus once you know about one character’s disability.
The central relationship is a platonic one, but both main characters have romantic interests in the background. The straight character finds herself in a love triangle. The queer, nonbinary character (she/they) gets to know a young woman and they start dating. In both cases, the main characters place one another in awkward positions. Readers see first loves play out messily as the two learn to navigate multiple complicated relationships in a small town.
In conclusion: read this book. If you’re not going to read it, at least leaf through it. YA fiction is in something of a slump at the moment, and this was an exceptionally encouraging title to come across. I adored the creative story, the flawed characters, and the exploration of a region that doesn’t often receive respectful coverage.
Content warnings: grief, death of a parent (major theme); addiction, racism, teen pregnancy, incarcerated relative (minor theme)
