This post may contain affiliate links, which means I’ll receive a commission if you purchase through my links, at no extra cost to you. Please read full disclosure for more information.Crank by Ellen Hopkins
Published by Margaret K. McElderry Books on October 1, 2004
Genres: Contemporary, Poetry
(Last Updated On: November 1, 2021)
In Crank, Ellen Hopkins chronicles the turbulent and often disturbing relationship between Kristina, a character based on her own daughter, and the "monster," the highly addictive drug crystal meth, or "crank." Kristina is introduced to the drug while visiting her largely absent and ne'er-do-well father. While under the influence of the monster, Kristina discovers her sexy alter-ego, Bree: "there is no perfect daughter, / no gifted high school junior, / no Kristina Georgia Snow. / There is only Bree." Bree will do all the things good girl Kristina won't, including attracting the attention of dangerous boys who can provide her with a steady flow of crank.
Crank was an incredible read. I had not read anything by Ellen Hopkins before, though I had heard such wonderful things about her novels, which made me pick this one up when I was at the library. I flipped through it briefly and saw that it wouldn’t take me that long to read it, so of course, I borrowed it from there. The second I got home I started reading it and I just couldn’t put it down.
One thing I like about this book was that it dealt with darker topics: drugs. I mean, it’s so beautifully written but it’s about such an un-beautiful topic. I even went on to read her story behind writing this novel and saw that it hits close to home, so she definitely had a lot of insight when it came to this book.
I felt so bad for Kristina the entire time. Her father cared about her so little and seemed to even encourage her in a way to life a party lifestyle. He just didn’t care at all. Kristina’s mother was so sweet and so caring, kind of the opposite of her father. It just seemed like she had such a wonderful life until she turned to drugs, and then it kind of spiraled out of control, which I guess is exactly what happens to drug addicts. I’m definitely going to be reading more of Ellen Hopkin’s novels in the future.
I hate this feeling. Like I’m here, but I’m not. Like someone cares, but they don’t. Like I belong somewhere else, anywhere but here, and escape lies just past that snowy window, cool and crisp as the February air.
Taking no chances means wasting your dreams.
You were a summer gift, one I’ll always treasure. You were a dream I never wanted to wake up from. You opened my eyes to things I’ll never really see. You’re the best thing that will ever happen to me.