Growing up on Judy Bloom books, I will probably always think of “Are You There God, It’s Me, Margaret” as the archetypal story of transition from girlhood to womanhood, in which the main character, Margaret, struggled with biology, bodily changes, peer pressure and religious identity. Author Kate Buckley follows in the tradition of Bloom with an evocative novel that brings a new level to adolescent and spiritual coming of age in her first young adult novel “Choices.”  But although the work takes a frank look at teenage choice issues, does it fall into a trap that makes it inaccessible to those who don’t already agree with access to abortion?

Fifteen-year-old Kara MacNeill is the epitome of the good girl: she makes straight A’s, goes to church regularly, has good, close friends at her private all-girls Catholic school, and never stays out past 10 p.m. just like her overly strict father commands.  She’s been known to help out her mother by stuffing envelopes for pro-life candidates endorsed by the local Life League, and although she may question the doctrines of her priest or the teaching nuns at her school, she’d never mention them out loud.

But she is forced to reevaluate and solidify her beliefs when she sneaks out of the house for a clandestine visit with her secret boyfriend, who sexually assaults her when she drinks too much at a party.  She finds herself pregnant, alone, and desperately wanting an abortion, preferably without her parents’ knowledge.

As a story intended to introduce the topic of abortion to young adults, the book itself is an excellent read.  It sets out the various hurdles for a teenager seeking an abortion: parental notification and permission, the variety of abortion types, the places to find support for your decision, especially if you have a religious family.  Unfortunately, the downside of the novel is ease with which everything resolves itself, providing pat answers to every conflict that oversimplify important topics. 

Kara’s biggest fear is telling her domineering, overprotective father that she is pregnant, and explaining to her devout, anti-choice activist of a mother than she wants an abortion.  Conveniently, it turns out that her father was so strict because he was trying to protect her from ruining her life, like his sister did when she accidentally got pregnant at an early age and married the father, raising the baby in an unhappy home.  And her mother was simply advocating against abortion because she had so many miscarriages trying to conceive Kara, and upon further reflection, the candidate she was working to help elect really wasn’t that good of a candidate after all.

As a tool to help encourage young women to talk about sex, consequences and what they would do in the case of an unintended pregnancy, Choices provides lots of information and encouragement.  But as a way to further open a dialogue, especially among girls and families that may not already be open to abortion, it sets some pretty unrealistic goal posts, especially via some sadly underdeveloped characters and conflicts.  Every character who is against abortion is a rigid caracature of a person — the spitting, frothing nun, the militant pro-life politician, the fire and brimstone priest, the nasty, bitter  Catholic School girl.  Each person in the novel promoting the right to choose is cool, hip, easy to be around and converse with.  Kara’s parents, once over the shock, are remarkably supportive and willing to let her make whatever decisions she chooses without trying to steer her in any particular direction.  Frankly, religious or not, pro or anti-choice, no parents are this understanding when they learn their teenage daughter is pregnant.

Although Buckley breaks new ground by fictionalizing the struggle a teenager must go through with when she is forced with an unintended pregnancy, the novel itself just doesn’t have the depth of characters or necessary conflict to do more than reinforce the beliefs of those for whom providing teenagers with choices is already an easy answer.  Choices just doesn’t evoke the depth of emotion needed to start a true conversation about realistic situations that a teenager faces when she is pregnant.