There is a character in that movie who is quite overweight but her weight is only brought up a handful of times.

Otherwise, she’s humorous, energetic and multi-dimensional, and I enjoyed her acting quite a lot (especially her “singing nun broadway musical” part, lol!).

Even Ryan Reynold’s character admits at the end that she was his “favorite” one, not because of her weight, but because of WHO SHE WAS. But then again, this is a fairly non-mainstream movie, so if you have a chance, check it out.

This book fucked me up, big time. Especially since I already had tons of weight fluctuation and my mom is basically this tiny little thing (like she complains about being 110 pounds because she’s “so much fatter” than she was when she was 100 pounds). I’m something like 218 pounds right now (and that’s after a bunch of weight fluctuations and pregnancy and several metabolic disorders and such).

Basically the whole idea is that the main character is the hottest girl in school, homecoming queen, etc and then she starts gaining tons of weight for no apparent reason and it turns out it’s a metabolic disorder that basically has no cure or treatment that works and it’s all about how her entire life falls apart (including her family and her friends and school life).

Of course, let’s not forget that once she’s a “huge fatty” the only one who shows any interest in her is a similarly morbidly obese guy who is basically described as a disgusting slob that everyone also (get this) thinks is “gay” BECAUSE of his weight for some reason.

It just really traumatized me that fat was equated with either death or the death of anything enjoyable in your life. And I journaled very heavily during my 8th grade through senior year of high school. I remember writing an entry in which I literally wrote that I would rather put a gun to my head and pull the trigger than be fat. This was mostly due to the fact that after reading that book (and dealing with the multiple traumatizing lectures and messages from my thin blond mom), I came to the conclusion that there was NO REASON TO LIVE if I became “fat” to any extent. Because apparently, according to this book, the simple act of BEING FAT will not only invariably RUIN YOUR LIFE, but it will RUIN THE LIVES OF EVERYONE AROUND YOU WHO YOU CARE ABOUT.

WTF.

I heartily second the Tamora Pierce books. I don’t remember which book it was; (Possible spoiler!) but in one of them the kid has to cure a plague killing lots of people. Turns out the genesis of the plague is someone trying to get thin quick via magic, which goes horribly wrong. I avidly buy all her newest books. I am so waiting for the newest Beka Cooper!

Also, the books that introduced me to the possibility of heroines being competent and full of character were Andre Norton’s Witch World books. I don’t remember what her stance on fat was, but her women and girls were pluck to the backbone. They had adventures and real moral dilemmas to consider.

I’m over forty, and I adore many YA authors. Wrede, Tamora Pierce, Jane Yolen, Pamela Dean, Robin McKinley and others.

Personally, I have a catagory of books I call good fluff. There are many writers I put in this catagory, and I don’t think it’s derogatory. Writing is telling a story and telling it well; a book doesn’t need to be a complicated metaphor to be a good book. And the books I find least readable are the ones who try to be literary without a good story as a vehicle. I’ll take cardboard characters and obvious plots over those any day.

I don’t think teens need to hear “you wouldn’t be so fat if only you had more self control” yet again. They get it enough everywhere else. :/

Anyone who’s read it more recently who can comment?

Fat Chance was pretty messed up. What disturbed me about it was also that the protagonist keeps mentioning her totally average height and weight or something and the message is that maybe she will be “thin again” at some point. I’m sure it gave many people a complex.

There’s a Bat in Bunk Five annoyed me too. It definitely suffered from the syndrome that plagues many YA books- everything gets wrapped up really fast at the end. Though I do think it’s significant how she still doesn’t like or trust her body after she loses weight.

I wish I had The Earth, My Butt, and Other Round Things as a kid because it is so genuinely, flat-out empowering, but books like The Cat Ate My Gymsuit were helpful to me because they were relatable in ways tons of YA fiction definitely was not. And in some ways it’s not always realistic to have a happy ending where the fat girl learns she can kick ass at the end. I think a lot of those books had that classic 70′s pessimistic tone, where the ending is neither here nor there.

Oh man, I too never forgot the immortal line about looking like a “thin Dolly Parton.” Like that makes any sense.