ON A WAVE: A Surfer Boyhood

Generally speaking, surfers don't write. They spend their formative years riding waves, smoking joints and chasing girls. Ziolkowski did all that, but somehow managed to avoid the Jeff Spicoli syndrome, becoming instead a poet (and director of Pratt Institute's writing program) whose talent and mastery of the language have allowed him to write this enjoyable memoir, equal parts surfer tale and bildungsroman. After his parents' divorce, Ziolkowski recalls, he moved with his mother and stepfather to Florida's Atlantic coast. He discovered the joys of surfing: the clothes, the camaraderie, the drugs (he first smoked pot at age 10 and was already "over" it by 15). Ziolkowski surfed almost daily, before school, after school and at night. Once he surfed so much that the glare from the water caused him to go temporarily blind; another time he hit the beach in the middle of a hurricane—all in pursuit of the perfect wave. Although there's a lot of surf talk here, it's really a book about family: the wicked stepfather, the feral brother, the compassionate mother and the tragedies that ultimately tear them apart. Underneath the surfer veneer is a story about the disintegration of the author's family and growing up in a time (the mid '70s) when all the old rules no longer seemed to apply. Ziolkowski writes that he aspired to go pro but never quite made it—a few trophies for local competitions was the closest he got, and a move to Kansas during high school prompted him to give up his quest for good. Better for readers that he did, for now they have this touching, poetic book. Agent, Henry Dunow. (May)