Kevin Major St. John's, Newfoundland, Canada E-Mail

Thirty-six Exposures
ISBN 0-385-25464-4, Doubleday, $10.95

	The Story:	During his last weeks in high school, Lorne finds his camera is no longer a shield but an instrument forcing him to focus on the events that seem to be racing our of control in his small Newfoundland town. Lorne suddenly finds himself the leader of a school strike and, while exploring his roots during a class project, he uncovers a disturbing secret about his family. His passionate feelings for his girlfriend Elaine threaten them both. And uncharacteristic wild times with his best friend Trevor have Lorne wishing things would just slow down and let him think. Finally, even amid this whirlwind of activity and emotion, Lorne finds himself in the history and people that nurtured him.
Reviews	Atlantic Insight	"This raw and intense novel is probably the best Canadian portrait ever drawn of seventeen-going-on-adult."
	The ALAN Review	"The unique form of Kevin Major's third novel should establish the author as one of the foremost experimenters currently writing young adult fiction... Major is fearless in his gambles, which, thus far, have proved to be sure bets. The ultimate payoff, of course, has been to his readers."
Excerpt		He started to picture himself as a son in that family. He stopped after a few seconds. Had he had a more powerful telescopic lens for his camera, he would have taken a photograph. His sights shifted to the fish plant. Perhaps he would end up there like his father used to warn him. Working part of the year, drawing unemployment during the rest. Or Alberta. He had relatives living there now he could stay with. At least he would get to see a bit of the country. Maybe go to university like everyone expected, maybe not. That was no guarantee of a job anymore, especially with an arts degree when you were sure you didn't want to be a teacher. Train for a job with one of the oil rigs off the coast? After the Ocean Ranger disaster, he would never even mention that possibility to his mother. In any case, just two more months and he would be through, finished with high school. And in four more months he would he eighteen. He drew back from the lookout and stood up in the wind. It whipped his hair in all directions. He unzippered his coat and spread it open like he used to do on Mercer's Bank when he was younger. He leaned forward, a human sail. Atop his world, he concluded; bloody dramatic. Later, just before he left to go down, he made his way back to the edge. This time it was his camera that he held in his hands. It would definitely make a perfect opening shot for the history project - the sun low, the light he liked best. He held the camera in such a way as to avoid irritating the cut on his hand. He framed the scene and with certain purpose depressed the shutter.