We Can Fix It: A Time Travel Memoir - Softcover

Gr 10 Up–Fink uses a time machine to jump back to the sexy and uncomfortable parts of her teenage and young adult years, voyeuristically reliving the experimentation with key people in her life and trying to redirect her past self from bad decisions, stupid people, and embarrassing moments. The book starts without introduction, and the storytelling is largely haphazard, mimicking the unplanned and reactionary direction of the protagonist's actions. Toward the end of the book, the character of Jess states that “fart humor transcends age,” and while the book purports to be about the present Jess trying to prevent her younger selves from making immature choices, the book revels in juvenilia. In part, this is because of the honest realization that we are our mistakes as well as our triumphs, but also because the good times that Jess recounts are mostly the dumb, crude things that make for amusing anecdotes among friends. The question is whether her cavalier depiction of sexuality and YouTube-worthy late night stunts with her friends is charming or whether one would find such tales off-putting. Her offbeat tone and self-awareness convey something similar to the mad rush of oversharing on an unexpected first date; some people will surely push away from the table and elect to call it a night, but the honesty, whimsy, and force of personality of the storyteller are undeniable.–Benjamin Russell, Belmont High School, NHα(c) Copyright 2013. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

Fink, creator of the unabashedly pornographic Chester 5000-XYV (2011), tones down not only the naughtiness but also the polish in this work. But not all the way down. A time-traveling, bodysuit-clad future Fink blips about in her own past, revisiting the “sexy times” from her adolescence and young adulthood—like that one time in the hot tub or that one guy in the projection room or that drunken hookup in college or, well, the list goes on. But as she meets growing disappointment in the awkward realities of her sexual history, she decides to teach her previous horny selves a thing or two. The consequences are equally disastrous and riotous, while delving deeper than the bawdy conceit suggests. Fink deals with fearless honesty and shameless self-indulgence, and she draws it all in a loose, exuberant style that gives a nice countertexture to the more serious, soul-searching moments (not that she doesn’t handle the poop jokes with aplomb, too). Her personal journey through humiliation and acceptance should speak to anyone who’s had the misfortune of being a teenager. --Ian Chipman