Narrator Ginnifer Goodwin expertly matches the author's intensity in this singular novel, which delves into the depths of friendship and art. When Frankie receives a phone call threatening to unravel a decades-old secret, she flashes back to the summer when she was a smart, introverted, somewhat sad girl of 16. That was the summer she met Zeke, a new boy with a similar nature. Together, they secretly create a work of art to wake up their sleepy Tennessee town. Goodwin captures the quiet urgency of the teens as they create a masterful poster. When the poster becomes a sensation and takes on unintended meanings, Goodwin expresses Frankie's continuing artistic fervor and Zeke's fear of dangerous consequences. Once released into the world, can art—or youth—be reclaimed? L.T. Winner of AudioFile Earphones Award © AudioFile 2022, Portland, Maine

09/05/2022

Wilson (Nothing to See Here) spins a delightful story of two aspiring artists in small-town Tennessee. It’s 1996 when Frankie Bulger, an outcast who dreams of becoming a writer, meets Zeke, also 16, who is new to town. Together they make a poster with the cryptic line “The edge is a shantytown filled with gold seekers. We are fugitives, and the law is skinny with hunger for us.” Thrilled at their creation, Frankie and Zeke make hundreds of copies of it on a photocopier stolen by Frankie’s triplet brothers, then post them around town. Copycats begin doing the same, and before long, local and national newspapers report on the panic caused by the posters, fashion brands reproduce the slogan on T-shirts, and tourists arrive in droves. Frankie and Zeke keep their involvement a secret until 22 years later, when a journalist finds out Frankie’s role. Confronted with the possibility of her secret coming out, Frankie goes on a quest to come clean with her family and reconnect with old friends. Wilson ably captures Frankie and her peers’ adolescent confusion and the creative power of like-minded teens, and his coming-of-age story is ripe with wisdom about what art means in the modern age. It adds up to a surprisingly touching time capsule of youth in the ’90s. Agent: Julie Barer, Book Group. (Nov.)

This is a wildly funny, wonderfully sincere — and a little bit devastating — story of art, our limitless past, future nostalgia and all those perfectly imperfect ways we continually come of age. Kevin Wilson’s books are so full of heart. They’re utterly indelible.” — Courtney Summers, Washington Post 

“Wilson’s fiction will have you laughing so much that you’re not prepared for the gut punch that follows. . . . Now Is Not the Time to Panic is the heartfelt culmination of many years (and many pages) spent probing the tension between the urge to make a mark on the world and the costs of doing so—and the push-pull between art’s disorienting and generative powers. . . . Go read Wilson’s books. You’ll discover one-of-a-kind worlds opening up.” — The Atlantic

“Now Is Not the Time to Panic is a quirky, complicated story about the power of words and art, and the importance of adolescent friendships.” — TIME (A Must Read Book of 2022)

“Now Is Not the Time to Panic plumbs both the intensity of an early creative experience and the strange way such experiences get preserved in the amber of our minds. The result is another tender, moving novel by an author who understands how truly bizarre ordinary life is.” — Ron Charles, Washington Post

"A charming coming-of-age novel brimming with nostalgia." — People

“Wilson has developed a story that is a precise capture of adolescence and of two vibrant teens whose everyday dilemmas, weaknesses, and triumphs are utterly endearing . . . Crisp dialogue and [a] zipping story line.” — Booklist (starred review)

“Full of compassion and gentle humor, this is a wise and winning novel about how youth haunts and defines us.” — Esquire

"It’s the kind of book your cool English literature teacher would recommend when you showed an interest in writing, the type of coming-of-age story that would have been equally destined for a banned books list and a summer reading list." — Vulture

“Kevin Wilson’s Now Is Not the Time to Panic (Ecco) has the feel of a long-gestating work: a novel about creativity and childhood that seems as though its author has been mulling it since his own youth. It bears the markers of Wilson’s style—cleverly cute without tipping over into saccharine territory….Though the book has an earnest heart, it’s colored by Wilson’s appealingly offbeat prose, so that even the most straightforward coming-of-age moments have a funky freshness.” — Vogue

“Kevin Wilson once again deploys his customary humorous, off-center storytelling to artfully delve into deeper mat­ters…[his] deceptively transparent prose, with a touch of humor, a dash of satire and a good bit of insight, carries the reader to a humane and satisfying conclusion.” — BookPage (starred review)

“[A] bighearted novel.” — Vanity Fair

“[T]he latest glorious novel from Kevin Wilson. Now is Not the Time to Panic is about oddballs and misfits; it’s about art, and how the making of art turns what’s weird about you into what’s magical about you.” — OprahDaily.com

“Wilson’s latest novel shows us again that he is at the top of his game, infusing this coming-of-age tale with his trademark sharp wit and deep understanding of love and the uncertainty that comes with fading youth.” — Chicago Review of Books

“What Wilson so eloquently captures is that unique time in one’s life when one small gesture of artistic self-expression — a madcap sentence about living on the fringes and embracing your eccentricities, come what may — really does have the power to change the world, or at least your perception of it.” — San Francisco Chronicle

“[Wilson’s] most emotionally nuanced and profoundly empathetic novel yet. . . . Wilson meaningfully crafts formed characters, allowing his work to register as a universal document of teenage turmoil as blessedly compassionate as it is cunning. Highly recommended as a sincere, sometimes brutal, but always sturdy study of the burden of both art and adolescence and a wonderfully evocative treatise on how we imprint ourselves on the world and learn to survive in that tumultuous wake.” — Library Journal

"Wilson occupies a unique niche in literature. He is a master of creating indelibly peculiar characters with odd passions and traits…..All those peccadillos have a purpose, though. They give shape to the characters’ humanity and fuel narrative arcs that tell evocative tragicomic stories about family, friendship, love and art that end on a note of cautious optimism. And honestly, isn’t that the best we can reasonably hope for in life?" — Atlanta Journal-Constitution

“A seductive, highly imaginative story that testifies to the transformative power of art." — Associated Press

“A witty and charming coming-of-age story…[a] lighthearted examination of teenage tomfoolery, identity and the power of art.” — BookTrib

“A book destined to become a cult classic, if not just a classic, period. . . . Now Is Not The Time to Panic departs from the comic surrealism of Wilson’s previous novels . . . in favor of a kind of sepia-toned realism that never ceases to entertain. Frankie and Zeke are wholly original characters, their lives painful and true, and while this is a novel you can read in a single sitting, it is best devoured slowly, a treat for the heart and mind." — USA Today (four stars)

“[T]he Tennessee native spins tales so droll and clever and casually surreal, it feels less like reading than falling in with a delightfully subversive new friend." — EW.com

Full of compassion and gentle humor, this is a wise and winning novel about how youth haunts and defines us.”

With a biting wit and playful prose, this delightful novel full of young love and the way our actions shape our futures will keep you more than entertained.”

A story that is a precise capture of adolescence and of two vibrant teens whose everyday dilemmas, weaknesses, and triumphs are utterly endearing…[A] zipping story line.”

Wildly funny, wonderfully sincere—and a little bit devastating.”

11/01/2022

Wilson (Nothing To See Here) has been carefully building his literary cachet over the past decade, and he's produced perhaps his most emotionally nuanced and profoundly empathetic novel yet. It tells the story of a 1996 Ohio summer during which two teen outcasts produce a mysterious work of art that instigates a Satanic Panic—style mass hysteria in their hometown simply by virtue of its poetic inscrutability. Wilson appropriates the absurdist foundation of 1980s/1990s moral panic phenomena to cushion his cultural critique, and there's a baked-in nostalgia to the book's aesthetic as he demonstrates a keen understanding of the fickleness of adolescence—how "[we] talked about what we always talked about…trying to adequately explain ourselves to another person"—and particularly how we alternately seek to preserve our formative years in amber and to fast-forward toward their expiration. But rather than leveraging any of this toward shallow buzzword topicality, Wilson meaningfully crafts formed characters, allowing his work to register as a universal document of teenage turmoil as blessedly compassionate as it is cunning. VERDICT Highly recommended as a sincere, sometimes brutal, but always sturdy study of the burden of both art and adolescence and a wonderfully evocative treatise on how we imprint ourselves on the world and learn to survive in that tumultuous wake.—Luke Gorham

Narrator Ginnifer Goodwin expertly matches the author's intensity in this singular novel, which delves into the depths of friendship and art. When Frankie receives a phone call threatening to unravel a decades-old secret, she flashes back to the summer when she was a smart, introverted, somewhat sad girl of 16. That was the summer she met Zeke, a new boy with a similar nature. Together, they secretly create a work of art to wake up their sleepy Tennessee town. Goodwin captures the quiet urgency of the teens as they create a masterful poster. When the poster becomes a sensation and takes on unintended meanings, Goodwin expresses Frankie's continuing artistic fervor and Zeke's fear of dangerous consequences. Once released into the world, can art—or youth—be reclaimed? L.T. Winner of AudioFile Earphones Award © AudioFile 2022, Portland, Maine

★ 2022-08-17
The irrepressible Wilson presents a grunge-era fable about a pre-internet mass-hysteria incident and the alchemy of art.

Family dramas and short stories are the author’s sweet spots, but for this emotionally acute peek into the inner life of the artist, he’s turned to the uncomfortable exile of adolescence. Coalfield, Tennessee, circa 1996 is as remote (and boring) as any rural American outpost, so budding teen writer Frances "Frankie" Budge is intrigued when Zeke, a strange boy from Memphis, shows up at the public pool. “This town is weird,” the stranger observes. “It’s like a bomb was dropped on it, and you guys are just getting back to normal.” In the grip of summer’s dog days, Frankie and Zeke pursue their artistic outlets elbow to elbow, hers the written word, his visual arts. Joining forces, they make a poster emblazoned with a throwaway couplet about outlaws on the run: "The edge is a shantytown filled with gold seekers. We are fugitives, and the law is skinny with hunger for us." Soon, they commandeer an old copy machine and plaster the town with their anonymous manifesto, punctuated by inevitable adolescent canoodling. What follows is a rough approximation of the “Satanic panic” of the Reagan-era 1980s, as the media labels the work “troubling street art” before it snowballs into a national hysteria that fortunately exists mostly on the periphery here. Wilson ignores the low-hanging fruit—Frankie and Zeke’s relationship is fundamentally a coming-of-age tale, but not in the way you might think. Instead, he focuses on the wonderful, terrible, transformative power of art. The catalyst for Frankie’s reluctant confession, 20 years later, is a visit from a New Yorker art critic convinced that Frankie wrote the infamous, trouble-causing line. In a world where art is often dismissed, Frankie will learn whether the line she created still holds the power she'd thought long since lost.

A warm, witty two-hander that sidesteps the clichés of art school and indie film and treats its free spirits with respect.