But I Love Him

by Amanda Grace

  He nods and looks at the cables again, as if he can tell by sight when they’ve done their job. “Okay, give it a try.”

  I get up from the curb and walk over to my car, trying hard not to glance back to see if he’s checking me out and wishing just as much that he is. I slide into my little bucket seat, say a few Hail Marys, and try it. For a second I think it’s going to work, but just before it turns over, it dies again and starts clicking.

  I butt my head into the steering wheel a few times in frustration. I just want this to work, because this guy has to think I’m a total idiot by now and he’ll probably bail on me at any minute.

  “Okay, give it a little while. You must have really drained it.”

  I go back and sit on the curb again, and he watches me, and I try to act like I don’t notice.

  So maybe this day doesn’t totally suck. This hot guy is leaning over my car and trying to fix it for me. And I like the way he’s confident but still has a charming, shy sort of smile.

  Oh my God, I just called him this guy. I don’t even know his name.

  I stand up and walk over to him.

  “My name is Ann, by the way.” And then I awkwardly stick my hand out.

  “Oh, sorry.” He wipes his hand on his jeans and holds it out. “I’m Connor.”

  Interview

  With Amanda Grace

  In But I Love Him, you chose to tell the story backwards, beginning at the end, so to speak. Why do you feel it was the best way to tell Ann’s story?

  The structure of the novel has a lot to do with my purpose for writing the book. I wrote it because I wanted people to understand abusive relationships, and why the victims of domestic violence don’t simply walk away. So often, a person thinks of themselves as too smart to end up in a similar situation. As the person reads, he or she chooses a defining moment (often the first time an abuser pushes or hits the victim) where they say to themselves, “that is when I would have left.” From then on, they place a certain amount of blame on the victim for being in the situation in the first place.

  By telling the story in reverse chronological order, it removes the reader’s ability to judge the protagonist. They don’t know the events that led up to the abuse, so they can only sit back and observe.

  This book is a shift in tone from your previous teen novels, going to a very dark place. What inspired this story?

  I was involved in a relationship when I was seventeen (Ann’s age when she meets Connor) that, while not physically abusive, was intense and difficult, and became the inspiration for this story. I was only with this person for a year, but it had a profoundly deep impact on me, in much the same way Connor changes Ann. That’s a big part of why Ann’s relationship is exactly a year long.

  I attempted to write a book like But I Love Him a few times, over the course of several years, but I never got beyond the first couple of chapters. Once I tried writing it in reverse chronological order, the dam broke, and the rough draft was done within a few weeks.

  Connor is interesting because he’s got a volatile temper and he abuses Ann both physically and psychologically. But we see that he’s been treated that way all his life as well. We may sympathize with his background but not condone his behavior and actions. How did you achieve that balance?

  I’ve read several YA novels about abusive relationships, and I didn’t feel like any of them capture it just right. The problem is, the abuser in those books simply has an “anger problem.” But domestic violence is about so much more than just someone’s temper.

  It was important to me that readers realize that Connor isn’t a bad guy—just a very broken one. I spent a lot of time developing Connor’s backstory, so that readers could understand what brought him to such a place. Truth be told, I’m a little nervous that people will be upset that he comes across sympathetic. My point isn’t to make what he does seem okay, or even justifiable, but just to make it clear that there are deeply rooted problems here, far beyond anger management.

  Abby, like Blake, serves as a reminder of Ann’s previous life/previous self. She doesn’t like Connor but for the most part she just lets Ann drift away from her. Did you ever consider having Abby discover the physical abuse? And if so, would she have been more assertive about intervening?

  The thing with relationships—abusive or not—is that a girl never breaks up with her boyfriend because her friend doesn’t like him. Abby is a smart girl, and she recognizes how deeply in love Ann is. While she may never explicitly confront Ann about the abuse, Abby has to know that something is very wrong with Connor and Ann’s relationship.

  Ann’s mother takes the opposite approach—she tries almost constantly to push Ann away from Connor. But as you learn through the course of the novel, it only backfires—Ann has great difficulty, in the end, reaching out to her mother.

  I guess my point is, you can’t save someone who doesn’t want to be saved. Abby knew that.

  It’s well known that abuse is cyclical (the abused often become abusers). Similarly, the abused can often find themselves in the same situations. Do you think Ann would do it all over again, knowing at the end what she does?

  Sadly, I think it would depend on when you asked. A day, a week, a month after their relationship ends, she would probably say yes. But with time, distance, and a little perspective, I certainly hope she’d have the strength to say no.

  You play with the idea of public and private selves in the narrative: Ann, Connor, even Ann’s mother. Ann does a poor job maintaining her public self—it starts to deteriorate even though she manages to keep her biggest secret. Connor’s private self (the good part of him, which Ann can see but no one else can) remains entirely private. Do you feel it’s necessary for everyone to have these divided selves or would life be easier if we were all just one person?

  I think it’s human nature to have a public front and a private one, and what that truly means can vary widely from one person to the next. There are some people you can know your entire lives and never truly know them, and others seem to read like an open book. I think it has to be that way, though. Having a private side is a way to protect yourself from people who many not understand your innermost thoughts.

  But that’s why reading can be such an emotional, deeply moving experience—for a while, you live in someone else’s head, and you see beyond their public self.

  What can you tell us about your next book with Flux?

  For now, all I’ll say is that it revolves around a dark lie which spirals out of control.

  Acknowledgments

  My sincerest gratitude goes to my editor, Brian, for being smart, insightful, and insanely fun to work with; my agent, Zoe, who has been a true partner to me every step of the way; Courtney, Steven, Sandy, and the whole team at Flux for being Made of Awesome; and to Weronika, for plucking a little manuscript called Shattered out of the submissions stack, reading it overnight, and raving about it.

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Title_Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Part_1

  Part_2

  Interview

  Acknowledgments