{"product_id":"heroes-isbn-9780440227694","title":"Heroes","description":"Francis Joseph Cassavant is eighteen. He has just returned home from the Second World War, and he has no face. He does have a gun and a mission: to murder his childhood hero.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFrancis lost most of his face when he fell on a grenade in France. He received the Silver Star for bravery, but was it really an act of heroism? Now, having survived, he is looking for a man he once admired and respected, a man adored by many people, a man who also received a Silver Star for bravery. A man who destroyed Francis's life.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFrancis lost most of his face when he fell on a grenade in France. He received the Silver Star for bravery, but was it really an act of heroism? Now, having survived, he is looking for a man he once admired and respected, a man adored by many people, a man who also received a Silver Star for bravery. A man who destroyed Francis's life. --\u0026gt;\"[A] powerhouse novel . . . that will follow the reader long after the story has ended.\"\u003cbr\u003e--\u003ci\u003eBooklist\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Cormier's . . . story will hold fans from the first page to the last.\"\u003cbr\u003e--\u003ci\u003ePublisher Weekly,\u003c\/i\u003e starred\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Powerful.\"\u003cbr\u003e--\u003ci\u003eVOYA,\u003c\/i\u003e starred\u003cb\u003eR\u003c\/b\u003eobert Cormier (pronounced kor-MEER) lived all his life in Leominster, Massachusetts, a small town in the north-central part of the state, where he grew up as part of a close, warm community of French Canadian immigrants. His wife, Connie, also from Leominster, still lives in the house where they raised their three daughters and one son–all adults now. They never saw a reason to leave. “There are lots of untold stories right here on Main Street,” Cormier once said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eA newspaper reporter and columnist for 30 years (working for the \u003ci\u003eWorcester Telegram \u003c\/i\u003eand \u003ci\u003eGazette \u003c\/i\u003eand the \u003ci\u003eFitchburg Sentinel\u003c\/i\u003e), Cormier was often inspired by news stories. What makes his works unique is his ability to make evil behavior understandable, though, of course, still evil. “I’m very much interested in intimidation,” he told an interviewer from \u003ci\u003eSchool Library Journal\u003c\/i\u003e. “And the way people manipulate other people. And the obvious abuse of authority.” All of these themes are evident in his young adult classic and best-known book, \u003ci\u003eThe Chocolate War\u003c\/i\u003e. A 15-year-old fan of his said, “You always write from inside the person.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eCormier traveled the world, from Australia (where he felt particularly thrilled by putting his hand in the Indian Ocean) and New Zealand to most of the countries in Europe, speaking at schools, colleges, and universities and to teacher and librarian associations. He visited nearly every state in the nation. While Cormier loved to travel, he said many times that he also loved returning to his home in Leominster.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eCormier was a practicing Catholic and attended parochial school, where in seventh grade, one of his teachers discovered his ability to write. But he said he had always wanted to be a writer: “I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t trying to get something down on paper.” His first poems were published in the \u003ci\u003eLeominster Daily Enterprise,\u003c\/i\u003e and his first professional publication occurred while he was a freshman at Fitchburg State College. His professor, Florence Conlon, sent his short story, without his knowledge, to \u003ci\u003eThe Sign,\u003c\/i\u003e a national Catholic magazine. The story, titled “The Little Things That Count,” sold for $75.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eCormier’s first work as a writer was at radio station WTAG in Worcester, MA, where he wrote scripts and commercials from 1946 to 1948. In 1948, he began his award-winning career as a newspaperman with the \u003ci\u003eWorcester Telegram, \u003c\/i\u003efirst in its Leominster office and later in its Fitchburg office. He wrote a weekly human-interest column, “A Story from the Country,” for that newspaper.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIn 1955, Cormier joined the staff of the \u003ci\u003eFitchburg Sentinel,\u003c\/i\u003e which later became the \u003ci\u003eFitchburg-Leominster Sentinel and Enterprise,\u003c\/i\u003e as the city hall and political reporter. He later served as wire and associate editor and wrote a popular twice-weekly column under the pseudonym John Fitch IV. The column received the national K.R. Thomason Award in 1974 as the best human-interest column written that year. That same year, he was honored by the New England Associated Press Association for having written the best news story under pressure of deadline. He left newspaper work in 1978 to devote all his time to writing.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eRobert Cormier’s first novel, \u003ci\u003eNow and at the Hour, \u003c\/i\u003ewas published in 1960. Inspired by his father’s death, the novel drew critical acclaim and was featured by \u003ci\u003eTime \u003c\/i\u003emagazine for five weeks on its “Recommended Reading” list. It was followed in 1963 by \u003ci\u003eA Little Raw on Monday Mornings \u003c\/i\u003eand in 1965 by \u003ci\u003eTake Me Where the Good Times Are, \u003c\/i\u003ealso critically acclaimed. The author was hailed by the \u003ci\u003eNewark Advocate\u003c\/i\u003e as being “in the first rank of American Catholic novelists.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIn 1974, Cormier published \u003ci\u003eThe Chocolate War, \u003c\/i\u003ethe novel that is still a bestseller a quarter century after its publication. Instantly acclaimed, it was also the object of censorship attempts because of its uncompromising realism. In a front-page review in a special children’s issue of \u003ci\u003eThe New York Times Book Review,\u003c\/i\u003e it was described as “masterfully structured and rich in theme,” and it went on to win countless awards and honors, was taught in schools and colleges throughout the world, and was translated into more than a dozen languages. \u003ci\u003eI Am the Cheese \u003c\/i\u003efollowed in 1977 and \u003ci\u003eAfter the First Death\u003c\/i\u003e in 1979.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThese three books established Cormier as a master of the young adult novel. In 1991, the Young Adult Services Division of the American Library Association presented him with the Margaret A. Edwards Award, citing the trio of books as “brilliantly crafted and troubling novels that have achieved the status of classics in young adult literature.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIn 1982, Cormier was honored by the National Council of Teachers of English and its Adolescent Literature Assembly (ALAN) for his “significant contribution to the field of adolescent literature” and for his “innovative creativity.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003e8 Plus 1,\u003c\/i\u003e an anthology of short stories that have appeared in such publications as the \u003ci\u003eSaturday Evening Post, The Sign, \u003c\/i\u003eand \u003ci\u003eRedbook,\u003c\/i\u003e was published in 1980. In later years, many of the stories in the collection, notably “The Moustache,” “President Cleveland, Where Are You?” and “Mine on Thursdays,” appeared in anthologies and school textbooks. The collection also received the World of Reading Readers’ Choice Award, sponsored by Silver Burdett \u0026amp; Ginn, especially notable because young readers voted for Cormier to receive the prize.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eI Have Words to Spend,\u003c\/i\u003e a collection of his newspaper and magazine columns, was published in 1991, assembled and edited by his wife, Connie.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eRobert Cormier’s other novels include \u003ci\u003eThe Bumblebee Flies Anyway,\u003c\/i\u003e 1983; \u003ci\u003eBeyond the Chocolate War, \u003c\/i\u003e1985; \u003ci\u003eFade,\u003c\/i\u003e 1988; \u003ci\u003eOther Bells for Us to Ring,\u003c\/i\u003e 1990; \u003ci\u003eWe All Fall Down,\u003c\/i\u003e 1991; \u003ci\u003eTunes for Bears to Dance To,\u003c\/i\u003e 1992; \u003ci\u003eIn the Middle of the Night,\u003c\/i\u003e 1995; \u003ci\u003eTenderness, \u003c\/i\u003e1997; \u003ci\u003eHeroes,\u003c\/i\u003e 1998; and \u003ci\u003eFrenchtown Summer,\u003c\/i\u003e 1999. This novel won the \u003ci\u003eLos Angeles Times \u003c\/i\u003eBook Prize for Young Adult Fiction in April 2000. All his novels have won critical praise and honors.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eIn the Middle of the Night\u003c\/i\u003e and \u003ci\u003eTenderness\u003c\/i\u003e were short-listed for the Carnegie Medal in England, and \u003ci\u003eHeroes\u003c\/i\u003e received a “Highly Commended” citation for that same award, unique honors because the Carnegie is traditionally awarded to a British book.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eCormier's novels have frequently come under attack by censorship groups because they are uncompromising in their depictions of the problems young people face each day in a turbulent world. Teachers and librarians have been quick to point out that his novels are eminently teachable, valuable, and moral. His novels are taught in hundreds of schools and in adolescent literature courses in colleges and universities.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThough many of his books are described as written for young adults, in fact people of all ages read and enjoy Cormier’s work. His themes of the ordinariness of evil and what happens when good people stand by and do nothing are treated seriously, and he never provides the easy comfort of a happy ending. Cormier’s gripping stories explore some of the darker corners of the human psyche, but always with a moral focus and a probing intelligence that compel readers to examine their own feelings and ethical beliefs.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIn an interview last year, Cormier was asked if he had accomplished what he set out to do at the beginning of his writing career. He answered with characteristic humility: “Oh, yes. My dream was to be known as a writer and to be able to produce at least one book that would be read by people. That dream came true with the publication of my first novel–and all the rest has been a sweet bonus. All I’ve ever wanted to do, really, was to write.” That writing has left the world a legacy of wonderful books, a body of work that will endure.Oh, I have eyes because I can see and eardrums because I can hear but no ears to speak of, just bits of dangling flesh.  But that's fine, like Dr.  Abrams says, because it's sight and hearing that count and I was not handsome to begin with.  He was joking, of course.  He was always trying to make me laugh.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIf anything bothers me, it's my nose.  Or rather, the absence of my nose.  My nostrils are like two small caves and they sometimes get blocked and I have to breathe through my mouth.  This dries up my throat and makes it hard for me to swallow.  I also become hoarse and cough a lot.  My teeth are gone but my jaw is intact and my gums are firm, which makes it possible for me to wear dentures.  In the past few weeks, my gums began to shrink, however, and the dentures have become loose and they click when I talk and slip around inside my mouth.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI have no eyebrows, but eyebrows are minor, really.  I do have cheeks.  Sort of.  I mean, the skin that forms my cheeks was grafted from my thighs and has taken a long time to heal.  My thighs sting when my pants rub against them.  Dr.  Abrams says that all my skin will heal in time and my cheeks will someday be as smooth as a baby's arse.  That's the way he pronounced it: arse.  In the meantime, he said, don't expect anybody to select you for a dance when it's Girls' Choice at the canteen.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDon't take him wrong, please.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe has a great sense of humor and has been trying to get me to develop one.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI have been trying to do just that.  But not having much success. --\u0026gt;\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe gun is like a tumor on my thigh as I walk through the morning streets against the wind that never dies down. April sunlight stings my eyes but the wind dissipates its heat, blustering against store windows and kicking debris into the gutters.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAt Ninth and Spruce, I pause and look up at the three-decker and the windows of the second floor, where Larry LaSalle can be found at last. Does he suspect my presence here on the street? Does he have a premonition that he has only a few minutes left to live?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI am calm. My heartbeat is normal. What's one more death after the others in the villages and fields of France? The innocent faces of the two young Germans appear in my mind. But Larry LaSalle is not innocent.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe steps leading to the second floor are worn from use and age, and I think of all the people who have climbed stairs like these, who have worked in the shops and come home heavy with weariness at the end of the day. As I stand at the door of Larry LaSalle's tenement, I touch the bulge in my pocket to verify the existence of the gun. The sound of my knocking is loud and commanding in the silent hallway.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNo response. I wait. I rap on the door again, hand clenched as a fist this time.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Come on in, the door's not locked,\" Larry LaSalle calls out. That voice is unmistakable, a bit feeble now, yet still the voice that cheered us at the Wreck Center.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHesitant suddenly, uncertain--his voice giving reality to what I must do--I step into the tenement and into the fragrance of pea soup simmering on the black stove, steam rising from a big green pot.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe is sitting in a rocking chair by the black coal stove, and narrows his eyes, squinting to see who has come into his tenement. He is pale, eyes sunk into his sockets like in the newsreel at the Plymouth, and he seems fragile now, as if caught in an old photograph that has faded and yellowed with age. His eyes blink rapidly as if taking quick pictures of me. Is there a glimmer of fear in his eyes? My heart quickens at the possibility.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Francis, Francis Cassavant,\" I announce. It's important for him to know immediately who I am. I don't want to waste any time.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Ah, Francis,\" he says, his eyes flashing pleasure because he doesn't sense my mission.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Come in, come in,\" he says, the old enthusiasm back in his voice.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe rises slowly from the chair, steadying therocker as he lifts himself up. As he holds out his hands in greeting, I go forward to meet him. We shake hands. At the last minute, when it seems we might embrace as old friends and comrades, teacher and pupil, I pull away. His white hands clutch the air before he clasps them together and settles back into the chair.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Sit, sit,\" he says, indicating the chair next to the window opposite his own.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Take off your jacket,\" he says. \"Your Red Sox cap, too, and your scarf . . .\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI don't move. I don't take off anything. I don't plan to stay long, only long enough to carry out my mission.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Don't be afraid to show your face, Francis. That face, what's left of it, is a symbol of how brave you were, the Silver Star you earned . . .\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003ean excerpt from \u003ci\u003e Heroes \u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e        My name is Francis Joseph Cassavant and I have just returned to Frenchtown \u003cbr\u003e        in Monument and the war is over and I have no face.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e        Oh, I have eyes because I can see and eardrums because I can hear but \u003cbr\u003e        no ears to speak of, just bits of dangling flesh. But that's fine, like \u003cbr\u003e        Dr. Abrams says, because it's sight and hearing that count and I was not \u003cbr\u003e        handsome to begin with. He was joking, of course. He was always trying \u003cbr\u003e        to make me laugh.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e        If anything bothers me, it's my nose. Or rather, the absence of my nose. \u003cbr\u003e        My nostrils are like two small caves and they sometimes get blocked and \u003cbr\u003e        I have to breathe through my mouth. This dries up my throat and makes \u003cbr\u003e        it hard for me to swallow. I also become hoarse and cough a lot. My teeth \u003cbr\u003e        are gone but my jaw is intact and my gums are firm, which makes it possible \u003cbr\u003e        for me to wear dentures. In the past few weeks my gums began to shrink, \u003cbr\u003e        however, and the dentures have become loose and they click when I talk \u003cbr\u003e        and slip around inside my mouth. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e        I have no eyebrows, but eyebrows are minor, really. I do have cheeks. \u003cbr\u003e        Sort of. I mean, the skin that forms my cheeks was grafted from my thighs \u003cbr\u003e        and has taken a long time to heal. My thighs sting when my pants rub against \u003cbr\u003e        them. Dr. Abrams says that all my skin will heal in time and my cheeks \u003cbr\u003e        will someday be as smooth as a baby's arse. That's the way he pronounced \u003cbr\u003e        it: arse. In the meantime, he said, don't expect anybody to select you \u003cbr\u003e        for a dance when it's Girl's Choice at the canteen.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e        Don't take him wrong, please.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e        He has a great sense of humor and has been trying to get me to develop \u003cbr\u003e        one.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e        I have been trying to do just that.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e        But not having much success.","brand":"Laurel Leaf","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46304444547301,"sku":"NP9780440227694","price":7.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780440227694.jpg?v=1767728983","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/es\/products\/heroes-isbn-9780440227694","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}