To purchase this item, you must first login or register for a new account.

Annotation: From the moment he knows that he is destined to be a vampire, Chris thirsts for the blood of people around him while also struggling to remain human.
Catalog Number: #297705
Format: Perma-Bound Edition
All Formats: Search
Special Formats: Inventory Sale Inventory Sale
Publisher: Candlewick Press
Copyright Date: 1997
Edition Date: 2005
Pages: 237 pages
Availability: Available
ISBN: Publisher: 0-7636-3895-1 Perma-Bound: 0-605-38372-3
ISBN 13: Publisher: 978-0-7636-3895-5 Perma-Bound: 978-0-605-38372-2
Dewey: Fic
LCCN: 96030744
Dimensions: 18 cm.
Subject Heading:
Vampires. Fiction.
Language: English
Publishers Weekly
Anderson, M.T. Thirsty. Candlewick. 1997. reprint. 2008. 249p. pap. ~In Chris's small Massachusetts town, vampires are hunted by lynch mobs and killed in public executions. Chris is much more interested in getting a girl to go out with him. Then with the approach of his 16th birthday, puberty takes a turn for the worse and he discovers, to his horror, that he is thirsty for human blood. Why It Is Great: From the first paragraph, Anderson's nonchalant mix of horror and humor tells you this is not your average teen vampire novel. """"In the spring, there are vampires in the wind.... My father claims we have them this year because it was a mild winter, but he may be thinking of tent caterpillars."""" Later, Chris will tear at his own forearm for sustenance and in the very next scene attempt to explain his twisted braces to his orthodontist. Why It Is for Us: The uncompromising conclusion asks what price we are willing to pay for our humanity. Chris is left with two ugly choices: starve as a vampire or give in to his nature, knowing he will be hunted and executed..
Word Count: 50,244
Reading Level: 4.2
Interest Level: 9+
Accelerated Reader: reading level: 4.2 / points: 7.0 / quiz: 25186 / grade: Upper Grades
Reading Counts!: reading level:3.7 / points:13.0 / quiz:Q37564
Lexile: 690L
Guided Reading Level: Z+
Fountas & Pinnell: Z+

It is English, and I am watching Rebecca Schwartz’s head.

It tilts down ten degrees and rotates slightly to the left. The sun catches it and turns her hair a more lustrous brown. Her hand is moving across the page, and loopy letters are following her pen. I am transfixed by this, even though I am supposed to be charting the syntax of a sentence about why people become flight attendants.

I think I have a crush on Rebecca Schwartz.

I haven’t spoken to her much. I am in awe of her. It would be like Moses speaking to the burning bush. Whenever I go to speak with her, I feel like I should take off my shoes. I guess I am also pretty timid. I imagine speaking with her. Sometimes I construct whole conversations where we say unusual things to each other.

I picture us walking through the forest in the spring. This is not a particularly original fantasy, I know. For one thing, it is in about every personal ad Tom and I have ever read. "SWM," they say, "seeking SWF, nonsmoker who enjoys long walks in the forest, quiet evenings by the fire, and strolls by the sea." People are not very original when it comes to romance. I think that’s too bad. Sometimes you want to see a personal ad that says, "SWM seeking SWF, nonsmoker who enjoys flailing in pig poop, puking, and honking on bagpipes. Women who do not know ‘My Lassie Yaks in Bonny Mull’ need not apply."

But I am not in the mood for pig poop today; so instead, I kiss her in the forest. There is sun and lots of mosquitoes.

I look up from my diagram and see her face rotated at one quarter as she looks toward the clock. I feel awful for having thought about kissing her. It is after the time when the bell should ring. I tap my pencil three times on the desk impatiently.

I look down. I draw a stem for the prepositional phrase to sit on. I clearly and deliberately write down "to many satisfied airline passengers."

The bell rings and we are going out of the room into the hall, where there is banging and shouting. I quickly try to maneuver toward Rebecca and her friends because she is talking to Tom, who knows her better than I do. I angle a few steps in that direction. They are heading for the lunchroom. I wade toward them. Suddenly Jerk appears at my side. He is as big as a roadblock. His hand-me-down pants are too short for his legs.

I am thinking desperately of things to say to her.

Jerk is in repellently high spirits. "Chris! Hey, Chris, I thought that would never end. I thought — did you get number four?" He squints. "That was the one with the guy who had a layover in Newark. It was real hard."

I say curtly, "The hardest." Jerk is unwelcome right now. I am considering my conversational options with Rebecca.

"It was so boring!" Jerk is still exclaiming. "So boring! Boring, boring, boring!"

"Let’s go over and talk to Tom," I say carefully. I push in that direction. They are moving down the hall. I am keenly aware that, conversationally, appearing with Jerk in his happy-to-see-you mode is like taking a dead moose as carryon luggage.

"More boring," he adds cheerfully, "than a very boring thing from the planet Tedium."

Tom, Rebecca, and the rest have reached the stairs. They are going down. I am estimating whether I can reach them in time. Jerk keeps pace with me.

"Hey, Chris!" exclaims Jerk. "Isn’t that your brother? Waving to you?" He gestures down the hall away from the stairs. My brother is there, waving to me.

I swear and move in the opposite direction. No time to lose.

"Chris!" I hear my brother shouting over the din.

"It’s your brother!" Jerk says, tugging at my arm.

"Really, Jerk? I guess that would explain why he sleeps and eats in my house." Rebecca and Tom and the others have disappeared down the stairs.

My big brother, Paul, works his way through the lunchtime crowd to me. He is short for his age, so he has to bounce up to see me over everyone else. He tugs on opposite sides of his sweatshirt hood drawstring. "Chris!" he says to me.

"What do you want?" I say.

"Tonight," he says. "What we’re doing is going to the lynching."

"What?" I say.

"The lynching," he explains, shifting carefully to let someone bigger pass. "A vampire. I’m going to go over to Bradley tonight to see them, like, stake the undead."

"You aren’t."

"After Mom and Dad leave."

"Chris—," Jerk begins, turning toward me.

"Where are Mom and Dad going?" I ask Paul.

"Out to dinner. And I have to keep you with me, slimestick. Mom said that I do. We’ll go out, and if she calls, we went to Mark’s house. We’ll be gone for maybe, like, an hour."

"Chris," says Jerk, "if we stay here, all the tater tots will be gone by the time we get there."

"You’re going to drag me over to Bradley to watch a lynching?" I say hotly. "It’s not like they’re going to do it out in front of everybody. It’ll be in the courthouse."

He shakes his head. "I’m there, Chris. All the media and everything are going to be there. Some girls from school are going to be there. I will be there. And Mom is, like, Miss Hyper, so you will be there."

"You are just trying to assert yourself because you’re only half an inch taller than I am," I say.

"I am not."

"I'll get a ruler."

"Asserting myself."

"I just don't believe you," I say, disgusted.

Paul shakes his head. "I am not going to argue about this, butthole."

I shrug my shoulders. I head toward the lunchroom.


THIRSTY by M.T. Anderson. Copyright (c) 2003 by M.T. Anderson. Published by Candlewick Press, Inc., Cambridge, MA.

Excerpted from Thirsty by M. T. Anderson
All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.

"Entertaining, disturbing, memorable, and sophisticated, this mortality tale will continue to haunt after the last pages are turned." – School Library Journal

All Chris really wants is to be a normal kid, to hang out with his friends, avoid his parents, and get a date with Rebecca Schwartz. Unfortunately, Chris appears to be turning into a vampire. So while his hometown performs an ancient ritual that keeps Tch’muchgar, the Vampire Lord, locked in another world, Chris desperately tries to save himself from his own vampiric fate. He needs help, but whom can he trust? A savagely funny tale of terror, teen angst, suspense, and satire from National Book Award winner M. T. Anderson.

*Prices subject to change without notice and listed in US dollars.
Perma-Bound bindings are unconditionally guaranteed (excludes textbook rebinding).
Paperbacks are not guaranteed.
Please Note: All Digital Material Sales Final.