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NOW IS NOT THE TIME TO PANIC by Kevin Wilson Kirkus Star

NOW IS NOT THE TIME TO PANIC

by Kevin Wilson

Pub Date: Nov. 8th, 2022
ISBN: 978-0-06-291350-0
Publisher: Ecco/HarperCollins

The irrepressible Wilson presents a grunge-era fable about a pre-internet mass-hysteria incident and the alchemy of art.

Family dramas and short stories are the author’s sweet spots, but for this emotionally acute peek into the inner life of the artist, he’s turned to the uncomfortable exile of adolescence. Coalfield, Tennessee, circa 1996 is as remote (and boring) as any rural American outpost, so budding teen writer Frances "Frankie" Budge is intrigued when Zeke, a strange boy from Memphis, shows up at the public pool. “This town is weird,” the stranger observes. “It’s like a bomb was dropped on it, and you guys are just getting back to normal.” In the grip of summer’s dog days, Frankie and Zeke pursue their artistic outlets elbow to elbow, hers the written word, his visual arts. Joining forces, they make a poster emblazoned with a throwaway couplet about outlaws on the run: "The edge is a shantytown filled with gold seekers. We are fugitives, and the law is skinny with hunger for us." Soon, they commandeer an old copy machine and plaster the town with their anonymous manifesto, punctuated by inevitable adolescent canoodling. What follows is a rough approximation of the “Satanic panic” of the Reagan-era 1980s, as the media labels the work “troubling street art” before it snowballs into a national hysteria that fortunately exists mostly on the periphery here. Wilson ignores the low-hanging fruit—Frankie and Zeke’s relationship is fundamentally a coming-of-age tale, but not in the way you might think. Instead, he focuses on the wonderful, terrible, transformative power of art. The catalyst for Frankie’s reluctant confession, 20 years later, is a visit from a New Yorker art critic convinced that Frankie wrote the infamous, trouble-causing line. In a world where art is often dismissed, Frankie will learn whether the line she created still holds the power she'd thought long since lost.

A warm, witty two-hander that sidesteps the clichés of art school and indie film and treats its free spirits with respect.