The Lost Marble Notebook of Forgotten Girl and Random Boy

In honor of National Poetry Month, we’re featuring one of Sky Pony’s novels-in-verse! Check it out below!


The Lost Marble Notebook of Forgotten Girl and Random Boy by Marie Jaskulka

9781632204264-frontcoverIf I let you read mine, will you let me read yours?

Forgotten Girl, a fifteen-year-old poet, is going through the most difficult time of her life—the breakup of her parents, and her mom’s resulting depression—when she meets Random Boy, a hot guy who, like her, feels like an outcast and secretly writes poetry to deal with everything going on in his life.

In The Lost Marble Notebook of Forgotten Girl & Random Boy, the couple’s poems come together to tell their unique love story. The two nameless teenagers come from opposite sides of the tracks, yet they find understanding in each other when they lay bare their life stories through the poetry they write and share with each other.

Through verse, they document the power of first kisses, the joy of finally having someone on their side, the devastation of jealousy, and the heartbreaking sadness of what each of them is simultaneously dealing with at home and hiding from the world. Finally they have someone to tell and somewhere to tell it in their marble notebook.

This is the powerful story of two imperfect teens in first love who find solace in poetry.

Reviews for The Lost Marble Notebook of Forgotten Girl and Random Boy:

“Told with such complete believability . . . Jaskulka’s narrative explores the hows and whys of an abusive teenage relationship with heartbreaking honesty, and her delicate touch renders the dark story even more powerful. Graceful. Searing. Haunting.” —Kirkus Reviews, starred review

“Realistic, gripping, worrisome yet hopeful. VERDICT: Give this to fans of Sonya Sones and Ellen Hopkins.” —School Library Journal

“This debut novel-in-verse is both beautiful and rough around the edges. Jaskulka handles her subject matter well, blending the poetry around the gritty details of the story. Each poet has his/her own distinct voice, making the transition between one and the other effortless. Both of these voices are real—real teenagers dealing with some major hardships. This is not an easy read; however, Jaskulka’s characters pepper their story with cynicism and wit. Readers will laugh, cry, and find themselves nodding their heads. Fans of Sonya Sones and Ellen Hopkins will want to get their hands on this novel.”—VOYA

“An original love story, arresting and beautiful. Heartbreakingly honest. At moments frightening, but ultimately hopeful.” —Laura Whitcomb, author of A Certain Slant of Light

“Eloquent, lyrical, combustible, Marie Jaskulka’s debut verse novel will draw you into the world of two teens whose thoughts and words resonate with raw beauty, love, and obsession. Jaskulka reminds us that, deep down, we know when love is real, and when we find it—we find our power.” —Bridget Birdsall, author of Double Exposure

“This is one of those books I wish I could travel back in time to give to fifteen-year-old me. It’s a lyrical, raw, and honest account of love, losing yourself, and finding your voice, and with it, your inner strength.” —Stephanie Kuehnert, author of I Wanna Be Your Joey Ramone

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#tbt National Poetry Month

In honor of National Poetry Month, Assistant Managing Editor, Sam Levitz has offered to share some of her own poems to share with you all! Enjoy Sam’s poems below! 


The Fort 5/9/09
Do you think it daft to dwell on juvenile games?
Tell me where to draw the line from child to adult.
Grains of sand fall every second.
Alone they are merely little fragments,
But together they mark another turning hourglass.
Each grain, a reminder of all those nights lost,
Thinking way too long on things that won’t matter
In the end.
Enough was enough, so we got to work:
I think the world ran out of duct tape.
Our world suddenly became eclipsed
With deep blues, reds, and purples,
We turned the dark
Into our stability.
Lying across the second floor,
We looked up at the elephants that walked by.
Lights glimmered all around us,
Reflecting off tiny mirrors above our heads.
All problems cease to exist in this magic wardrobe,
No Narnia or Terabithia could compete with reality.
Eyes close as music softly wafts around us,
Lyrics with truth glide into our hearts.
It’s bittersweet, waiting for the inevitable end,
When our hands shift from creators to destroyers.
Useless sheets lie on the floor,
Sent to the wash full of dog hair and slobber.
The hourglass will turn until all the sand runs out,
When we return to the asylum once more.

The Language of Brooklyn 6/17/09

Juxtaposing centuries
Shows English in a spectrum light.
She screams in agony when torn apart,
Her tall, slender figure shortened by sloth.
An incision here, some collagen there,
A mold to be shaped by the individual.
The plastic surgeons of Brooklyn deaf to her cries,
She loses herself behind surgical masks.
Back on the streets she takes a deep breath, but
Slips and slithers through unfamiliar lips as
They call her name in a foreign dialect,
Tripping over syllables and butchering her pride.
“Youse’ guys gotta’ see this,” they taunt,
Taking away her little black book.
A date with Shakespeare on Monday, Hughes on Tuesday and
Poe, and Frost later this week.
“How sweet it is!” an M.D. chuckles, “Marty would like
Her fine swagga’.”
Sadly looking down at her Goddess silhouette, she
Silently yearns for the past.
She loathes her nip and tucks, but
Knows glaring at the gold-chained “G’s” with
Their pants pulled down too low,
Won’t change their rough tongues,
Probing where they don’t belong.
“Meet me in the library,” English begs,
“I’ll introduce you to Oxford and Webster.”
The doctors laugh, their shoulders shrug,
“Fuhgeddaboudit,” they reply.

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