Reality Boy follows Gerald Faust, a boy who was humiliated on reality television (one of those nanny shows) and subsequent YouTube uploads when he was young. It first appears--and is often billed as--the aftermath of such trauma. But it's actually a little more than that. According to the interview at the end of the paperback edition, King was wondering how the statistics of abused children were present on reality TV, and how hiding that may have distorted everything. And I'm going to try to avoid spoilers (although, frankly, it's kind of the premise), but that's the case here, and it isn't the parents, either--which is something I've never really seen explored before.
One of the first things that jumped out at me from Reality Boy was how King wrote first person from the head of someone not easily accessible at all. Gerald is an angry teenager and at first it's difficult to understand why that is justified. Some of the words he uses may also be perceived as offensive (mostly "retarded"), although this is later addressed. Similarly, love interest Hannah and their relationship has its uncomfortable moments, but the two come to an understanding. I especially liked how she wanted to make sure he knew who she really was (as well as vice versa) before becoming too committed to the relationship, especially as previously, through Gerald's eyes, the novel seemed to glorify her to an extent. Overall, King isn't afraid to make her characters unlikable and, dare I say, problematic, but allows them to grow.
Also, this quote:
"She's human. Sometimes she can be a jerk. Sometimes there is no why."The other thing I'm noticing about King's novels is how they are written as unfolding events--very similar to the way King writes them, although I'm sure things have been editing and rearranged. King's a "pantser" and not a planner, which means that she starts with an idea but otherwise does not plan her plots before she starts writing. (I'm something in between these two approaches, myself.) And from everything I've read from her so far except Ask the Passengers, each focus character has a backstory that is slowly unveiled through their own narration throughout the novel, though the complexity differs between characters. (Gerald's somewhere in the middle.) Not only does this avoid lengthy backstories told upfront, but it also creates a mystery aspect and the overall effect of getting to know the character just as you would get to know real people.
Even if I didn't enjoy Reality Boy as much as Everybody Sees the Ants and Please Ignore Vera Dietz (but I've given up giving up a real rating, because who cares about numbers?), there was one aspect I could relate to: anxiety over how one is perceived by others. This is something that has always concerned me, but Gerald is definitely in a worse position. Gerald knows that no one knows the truth of what happened to him, and he takes the approach to just recede from interpersonal interactions (which also helps control his anger). This is an option that can definitely sound appealing in that situation, no matter how unhappy or unproductive it can be. But by the end, he gains a bit of perspective.
The worst part is, Gerald has grown up believing lies himself. He believed that there was something wrong with him, that he had a learning disability, that he had no future. All because his family was too afraid to face the true problem. But I think it goes a little deeper than that: this was a problem that was feared to be harder to swallow on TV. It was so much easier to rationalize Gerald's antics as his problem. And the show did nothing to highlight the real issues, even if the nanny seemed to understand at least once. But, as Gerald said, no one would make a reality show about real life.
That's the real tragedy
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