Review
"One of the best debut novels I've read in a long time. Addicting [and] beautifully written." - My Fictional Oasis
"Absolutely brilliant...[an] amazing debut novel." - SJ's Bookshelf
"Michaud has used her knowledge of music to flesh-out her characters in such an attractive way. [They] are beautifully flawed...Michaud has taken this book set in the early 2000s and somehow made it so very relevant today. A witty debut full of heart"- A Book Wanderer
"Lisa Czarina Michaud captures the sparkling highs and epic lows of young adulthood...But also reveals something deeper through its storytelling, something undeniable and impossible for her characters to yet understand." - Michelle Leon, Babes in Toyland and author of I Live Inside
"Smart and funny....coming-of-age for the High Fidelity set....a journey through youth, second loves, and the power of connection through art." - Brett Sills, author of Shoveling Snow
"Slanted and Disenchanted crackles with the heart-pounding, meaning-seeking, garage rock energy of two young musicians on Long Island. Carla and Pete are incredibly well-drawn. You won't be able to look away from the stage or to put this book down, until you reach the final song."- Jason Allen, author of The East End
"The most musically infused story I've ever had the pleasure of devouring." - Corny O'Connell, Fordham University WFUV On-Air Host
"Slanted and Disenchanted conjures up the wistful daydreams and perpetual uncertainty that inspires young people to climb onto dingy stages in dive bars to make a joyful racket hoping for acceptance, respect, love, and just maybe enough gas money to make it to the next show." - Chris Appelgren, The PeeChees and owner, Lookout! Records
"Perfectly captures the way almost every young adult has ever felt: out of place, misunderstood, and desperate to find a home in someone else... Michaud infuses her branded humor into this nostalgic tale of young love. This coming-of-age story is packed with passion [and] music." - Cara Alwill, author of Girl On Fire and host of the Style Your Mind podcast
From the Author
CARLA
Going out. I dreaded going out. Not old enough to legally drink, not sophisticated to know whatto drink, and loathing meaningless small talk with strangers made the whole thing sound miserable. But at twenty years old, I figured I had to at least pretend to care about my youth. Mrs. Pascucci scared me the other day when she told me to enjoy it to the fullest so I wouldn't have regrets later and end up cheating on my first husband. So for the sake of my future first husband, I agreed to go out with some girls I sort of knew in high school who had come into the store. They wanted to have a Sex and the City night and told me to wear a wrap dress if I had one. I didn't. And I also didn't drink Cosmos or have complicated relationships with old, rich men who refused to take me to Paris. But I agreed anyway because it was Thanksgiving Eve, the alleged "biggest party night of the year," and I was starting to think I really was missing out on my wild and irresponsible youth. All I really wanted to do was get coffee with Alex at the gothic Witches Brew coffee house over by Hofstra, but she decided last minute to stay at school in Illinois.
I had an expired ID. Handed down from one of Alex's sister's friends, it claimed I was twenty-four-year-old Shannon O'Brian from Williston Park. Standing in my bedroom with a towel wrapped around me, the beads of my shower dripping onto my pistachio-green wall-to-wall carpet, I had to find something to wear to artfully convey the deceit. I had ratty vintage sweaters, striped shirts from the '90s, and oversized band t-shirts, not to mention black hair. None of it screamed Sex and the City. None of it screamed Shannon O'Brian.
I wondered what made me an adult. Did drinking alcohol on your 21st birthday make you an adult? Or paying bills? Understanding politics? Having sex all the time? Since I wasn't doing any of these things, maybe I'd just bypass the adult phase and go straight to becoming a senior citizen. When I told Pete, he looked at me with those hazelnut eyes that I'd fall in love with if I stared into them too long, and he said, "Can I come with you?"
PETE
I didn't get what the big deal about college was or why people looked at me like I was total white trash when I told them that after a year at Nassau, I didn't go back. Then they would look at me like I should be committed for blowing off acceptance to Juilliard for Community College. So I just got used to telling people nothing about me since everyone had such a strong opinion about what I should be doing. My parents were okay with it, though. It was mostly my girlfriend Allison, who I think only loved the idea of having a boyfriend at Juilliard. Mortified by the whole thing, she wanted to murder me for deferring and threatened I'd be a barista for the rest of my life if I didn't finish college. I called her threat out-of-touch and totally elitist before accusing her of planning to vote for Dubya in November...
At twenty years old, I was starting to feel even more confused than I did as a teenager. But for different reasons. By now, I thought I'd have my shit together because twenty sounded like such a scary grown-up age. I mean, I had just voted for the first time. My mom, impatient as always, pressed on for a more impassioned take on the "experience," while explaining the Electoral College to my French dad, once again, proved to be a useless and thankless task....
It was the year 2000. The big Y2K had arrived; the year we were either supposed to lose everything because we didn't trust computers to calculate the date, or we were supposed to die. Neither of those things happened, and instead, we got . . . boy bands and music that apparently couldn't be performed without the presence of backup dancers.
Before work, I liked to go to Clark Gardens to think. Hating my job would have given me the motivation to change something. But work was okay, and only a few customers were annoying. You know, the ones who didn't quite grasp that a long line of other customersmeant it would take a little longer to get their coffee. When I complained about work, my girlfriend would give me a sharp "I told you so" look...
About the Author
Lisa Czarina Michaud is a punk fiction author based in France. Born and raised in Chelsea before a family relocation to Long Island, she has been writing her New York stories her entire life. Wanting to see the left coast, she attended The Evergreen State College before stumbling through adulthood in Hollywood, then back east to Brooklyn and eventually Paris where she currently lives with her husband, son, and cat., Le Tigre Gris Gris. Slanted and Disenchanted is her first novel.
