Trafford Publishing - Home
Bookstore Publishing Offices
divider Browse
Aisles
divider Search
Desk
divider Shopping
Basket
divider Book Trade
Terms
divider Just
Released!
divider Return
Policy
divider Help

Here is the full reference card for this book...


If you'd rather place an order by talking to one of our cheerful order desk clerks, please call 1-888-232-4444 (USA and Canada only) or 250-383-6864. From Europe, ring our UK order desk clerk at local rate number 0845 230 9601 (UK only) or 44 (0)1865 722 113.

The Sand Angel

by Lesley Ann Marcovich

155 pages; quality trade paperback (softcover); catalogue #01-0035; ISBN 1-55212-633-1; US$17.50, C$19.70, EUR14.50, £10.00

Maddy De Koker leaves Canada with her own heart full of hate and with Leia's help, returns with an African song of love.


Read more!

about the book      from the author      excerpt      catalogue info

About the Book

Maddy De Koker hated the fact that her parents were dragging her back to South Africa for a holiday. She hated the fact that her ex-friend, Leia, and her family were coming too. But most of all, she hated leaving her boyfriend, Jeff. Would he wait for her?

What will happen in the next few weeks? Will the plane crash? Will she be shot? Will she get bitten by a poisonous snake? Or will 'Africa' simply happen?

If so, who better to show Maddy Africa's true colours than a distant sand angel who waits on her shores?


From the Author

I grew up during the apartheid system in South Africa when the rulers cradled her whites in safe and fertile laagers, and banished her non-whites to dangerous and barren homelands far from view.

Only after leaving South Africa in 1987, did I admit to her real history, a history that is paved with scars, the deepest of which was inflicted during the time when I flourished there, inside the laager.


Excerpt

I was supposed to be happy. Happy happy happy! I was going to be away from Jeff for twenty-nine days, and I was going to South Africa with the irritating Leia Barry. These were not ingredients for 'happy'.

****

Leia sat beside me, gluing herself to me as usual. What did I look like - flypaper for freaks?

****

Poet after poet did his or her thing, yelling stuff about killing and rape, and forefathers who 'fucked up' the country.

****

We staggered across the side of the coach to the spot where we'd climbed up. The man grabbed his mouth. 'Are you okay?' I asked.
'Jebo, unkosazane. I am just having broken teeth.'

****

When you write, that is called 'studying.' Mr. Griessel pointed the pen at Lucky. 'He is studying. We do not allow studying downstairs!'

****

The drums boomed, louder, louder. The dancers moved between the racks in a kind of trance, a trance that soon washed over me too.

****

Warren pointed to his neck. 'One guy pushed a knife into me here and the other fff...guy held a gun right here.' He pointed to his forehead. 'He pulled the trigger three times. It jammed three times. A tear leaked onto his cheek. 'Oh, God, Mom!'

****

Anna, who smelled like the earth, who carried me on her back while she sang to me, was now twisting and weeping like a wounded animal.

****

A man in animal furs appeared. His skin hung on his face like stage curtains. We had found the ubabamkhulu.

****

An explosion of dust rose up further downstream as the adult elephants thundered towards the drowning baby.

****

Mrs. Barry drifted towards me, looking like a rain soaked ruin. It felt like a knife was wedged in my throat. 'Your daughter is not funny. Do you see me laughing? No!"

****

I moved the chair to the pattern of my skating routine as Leia opened her arms, as an audience of stars blinked down on her.


Catalogue Information




Canada • USA • UK • Europe
Contact Us | Privacy Policy | Terms of use | Author Login

URL http://www.trafford.com © 1995-2007 Trafford Publishing, a division of Trafford Holdings Ltd.

  Request a Publishing Guide