A modern-day Adrian Mole about negotiating life today while struggling with the innate difficulty of being a teenage boy, from the inimitable Lissa Evans. I am fourteen years old and I’m called Mackenzie Bly. It’s a good name, isn’t it? Unfortunately, I just made it up, I’m actually called Philip Stephens which, if there was ever a competition for the world’s most boring name, would be a clear winner. ‘We didn’t want to call you something that would mean you’d get teased’ is what Mum B says. But given that I’m the size of a vending machine, hate sport, live with my Mums, one of whom teaches biology at my school, and don’t live with my Dad who plays air guitar, has ginger plaits down to his waist and writes random notes on Rizlas instead of using a diary, they might as well have called me ‘Fattus Butticus’ for all the difference it would have made…. Oh, and my best friend Sy has just moved to New Zealand. Life is terrible. I hope you enjoy reading this.
