By Clay Evans for the Boulder Daily Camera (April 7, 2007)

Meet CWP and Boulder author, Tim Hililmer

Book signings:

Wed, April 11, 2007.
7:30 p.m.
Boulder Book Store. 1107 Pearl St. (303-447-2074)

Sat, May 12, 2007
7:30 p.m.
Tattered Cover Book Store. 2526 E. Colfax Ave. (303-322-7727)

Who knew that a novel about a school shooting could be funny?

Before anyone gets offended: "Ravenhill," the new novel by longtime Boulder teacher and author Timothy Hillmer, is a tragedy. People die.

But to Hillmer's credit, his tale is peppered with what you might call "blackboard" humor. Public school can be a tough place, whether you are a student, administrator or teacher, and sometimes the only way to deal with it is to laugh, if only grimly.

For example, Kathie Romero, assistant principal at the small-town high school, keeps coming to work despite a persistent flu: "When she wasn't hacking and sneezing and finally surrendering to Nyquil for some relief, she fantasized about the luxuries of a long-term illness and a week of R&R at home in bed. Pneumonia would do nicely."

There's also a funny bit about an annoying parent — who just happens to sit on the local city council — who demands help for her son from Romero:

"'It's about Blair's penis.'

"Kathie was silent at first. As the sudden image of Blair Hull's penis flashed through her mind, she had to stomp down a giggle. She knew that it wouldn't be good to laugh at the penis of a city councilwoman's adolescent son ..."

But the novel offers much more than black humor. Like best-selling, hyper-marketed author Jodi Picoult in her new school-shooting novel, "Nineteen Minutes," Hillmer reveals the tragedy up front. But where Picoult fingers her killer up top, Hillmer keeps his peace while spinning out the events of Dec. 19, 1997 — and offering up plenty of suspects.

Character is Hillmer's strong point. His lineup is large, engaging and mostly believable; just about everyone at Ravenhill bears the burden of awful secrets.

There's teacher Kent Hardin, who can't forgive himself for a long-ago tragedy. He's been exiled to Ravenhill because he's a hothead who assaulted a student during his previous posting.

Lara Wright is sweet 15, but rebellious in an artsy way, preferring to dress a bit goth and hang out with a questionable crowd. She is the catalyst for the tragedy in several ways, and her protective older brother is teaching her "self defense" because she's being hassled by...

... Leonard Lamb, who is the kind of bully and bad guy that every teacher and administrator must despise. On the morning of the shooting, someone — we never know for sure, but Leonard is the obvious suspect — has painted an ugly message about Lara on the front of the school. Hillmer eventually gives us Leonard's painful past, but it doesn't do much good; this kid is so bad that even Mother Teresa would have to lie about loving him.

Rachel Riley is the daughter of a radical Christian preacher who pickets the school daily for its "sinful" curriculum, and who believes that women should stay in their place. Jesus-like, Rachel endures persistent taunts and torment, but she also has an enduring connection to Lara.

Hillmer's most intriguing character is S.A.M. — for "Secret Agent Man" — Bond, a nobody who has vowed to protect his beloved Lara, who doesn't even know he exists.

Alternating point of view between those and other characters, the novel prowls the halls of the school on the fateful day, gradually building tension and generously doling out satisfying surprises. The shooting, oddly, plays out in ways both expected and unexpected, but packs plenty of emotion.

There are echoes here, not so much of the subgenre of school-shooting novels, such as Jim Shepard's excellent "Project X," as of several memorable films, from "Empire Falls" to "Boys Don't Cry."

Hillmer — who signs his work Wednesday at the Boulder Book Store — is a clean, sharp writer who leavens his tale with just enough flair so as not to be distracting or burdensome. The occasional political jab betrays his career as a teacher — "They were hammering the principals again with the same crap. ... Nobody said a thing about the budget cutbacks and overcrowding" — but gives the story a lived-in feel.

While engaging, the novel at times feels burdened with too much melodrama and too many viewpoints. It's a nice touch that every character seems to have his or her tragedy, but you may find yourself yearning for somebody ... normal.

"Ravenhill" is being pitched as a young-adult novel, but I'm not sure why. Apart from the occasional, self-conscious attempt at "kid humor," this is a thoroughly adult novel. It doesn't flinch from brutal violence, and it bravely addresses some tough issues for both kids and adults.

"Ravenhill" is a fast, compelling read that offers a vivid, realistic glimpse into a (white, middle-class) school environment. And who do you trust to get that right, a long-time teacher, or a best-selling author like Picoult who's always casting about for her next subject?