Fans of author Gayle Forman (If I Stay, Where She Went, and Just One Day), will be excited to know that the cover and an excerpt has been released for her next novel, Just One Year.
In Forman’s first series If I Stay is told from the perspective of a female lead named Mia and then the second book, Where She Went, is told from the perspective of Mia’s boyfriend Adam. Much like the books in her first series, Just One Day is told from the perspective of 18-year old Allyson. The sequel, Just One Year, is being told from the perspective of the romantic male lead, Willem.
Below is some of the excerpt and the new cover for Just One Year. You can read the full excerpt here.
“It’s the dream I always have: I’m on a plane, high above the clouds. The plane starts to descend, and I have this sudden panic because I just know that I am on the wrong plane, I am traveling to the wrong place. It’s never clear where I’m landing—in a war zone, in the midst of an epidemic, in the wrong century—only that it’s somewhere I shouldn’t be. Sometimes, I try to ask the person next to me where we are going, but I can never quite see a face, can never quite hear an answer. I wake in a disoriented sweat to the sound of the landing gear dropping, to the echo of my heart beating. It usually takes me a few moments to find my bearings, to locate where it is I am—an apartment in Prague, a hostel in Cairo—but even once that’s been established, the sense of being terminally lost lingers.
I think I’m having the dream now. Just as always, I lift the shade to peer at the clouds. I feel the hydraulic lurch of the engines, the thrust downward, the pressure in my ears, the ignition of panic. I turn to the faceless person next to me—only this time I get the feeling it’s not a stranger. It’s someone I know. Someone I’m traveling with. And that fills me with such intense relief .We can’t both have gotten on the wrong plane.
“Do you know where we’re going?” I ask. I lean closer. I’m just about there, just about to see a face, just about to get an answer, just about to find out where it is I’m going.
And then I hear sirens.
It was in Dubrovnik I first noticed the sirens. I was traveling with a guy I’d met in Albania when we heard a siren go by. It sounded like the kind they have in American action movies, and the guy I was traveling with said how each country had its own siren sound. “It’s helpful because if you forget where you are, you can always close your eyes and let the sirens tell you,” he told me. I’d been gone a year by then, and it had taken me a few minutes to summon the sound of the sirens at home. They were musical almost, a down-up-down-up, la, la, la, la, like someone absentmindedly but cheerfully humming.
That’s not what this siren is. It is monotonous, a nyeah-nyeah, nyeah-nyeah, like the bleating of electric sheep. It doesn’t get louder or fainter as it comes closer or grows farther away; it’s just a wall of wailing, and as much as I try, I have no idea where this siren is, have no idea where I am.
I only know that I am not home.
I open my eyes. There is bright light everywhere, from lights overhead, but also light coming out from my own eyes, tiny pinprick explosions that hurt like hell.I close my eyes.
Kai. The guy I traveled from Tirana to Dubrovnik with was called Kai. We drank weak Croatian pilsner from the ramparts of the city and then laughed as we pissed into the Adriatic. His name was Kai. He was from Finland.
The sirens blare. I still don’t know where I am.
The sirens stop. I hear a door opening. I feel water on my skin. A shifting of my body. It is better to keep my eyes closed. None of this is anything I want to witness.
But then my eyes are forced open, and there’s another light, harsh and painful, like when I spent too long looking at a solar eclipse. Saba warned me not to, but some things are impossible to tear yourself away from. After, I had a headache for hours. Eclipse Migraine. That’s what they called it on the news. Lots of people got them from staring at the sun. I know that, too. But I still don’t know where I am.
There are voices now, as if echoing out from a tunnel. I can hear them, but I cannot make out what they’re saying.
“Comment vous appelez-vous?” someone asks, in a language I know is not mine but that I somehow understand. What is your name?
“Can you tell us your name?” The question again in another language, also not my own.
“Willem de Ruiter.” This time it’s my voice. My name.
“Good.” It is a man’s voice. It switches to the other language. French. It says that I got my own name right, and I wonder how it is he knows this, and for a second I think it is Bram speaking, but as muddled as I am, I realize this is not possible. Bram never did learn French.”
What do you think of this excerpt? Have you read any of Forman’s novels? What do you think of the cover? As of right now, Just One Year is going to be released sometime this October.
Source: USA Today.