While it may take a few chapters to acclimate to the unique voice of the diarist of The Disturbed Girl's Dictionary, Macy Cashmere, once you're accustomed to her rhythms and expressions, you'll find it hard to get her out of your head. While plenty happens in this book, it's the characters that are the real highlight. Macy gives you increasingly nuanced insight into people who could all too easily descend into caricatures, including not only her friends and teachers, her parents and brother, but also neighborhood prostitutes and CPS workers. As you may have guessed, this is not always a happy book. Macy's world is one of extreme poverty and neglect that more privileged readers may have to remind themselves isn't a fantasy for far too many. But what she loves, she loves fiercely, and even through her filter of anger and pain, the reasons she keeps fighting shine through.— From Sarah
A 2019 YALSA Best Fiction for Young Adults Selection
A 2018 New York Public Library Best Book for Teens
Macy's school officially classifies her as disturbed, but Macy isn't interested in how others define her. She's got more pressing problems: her mom can't move off the couch, her dad's in prison, her brother's been kidnapped by Child Protective Services, and now her best friend isn't speaking to her. Writing in a dictionary format, Macy explains the world in her own terms--complete with gritty characters and outrageous endeavors. With an honesty that's both hilarious and fearsome, slowly Macy reveals why she acts out, why she can't tell her incarcerated father that her mom's cheating on him, and why her best friend needs protection . . . the kind of protection that involves Macy's machete.