M. Sindy Felin’s young adult novel was a finalist for the 2007 National Book Award in the category of Young People’s Literature. It didn’t win, and it really does have some weaknesses, not the least of which are a somewhat unconvincing conclusion and an inconsistent tone. Still, it’s a solid enough work of fiction, and a fairly brave one, tackling as it does the weighty subject of the violent physical discipline of children within the Haitian immigrant community. The novel begins with an arresting opening paragraph: The best way to avoid being picked on by high school bullies is to kill someone. Anyone will do. Accidental killings have the same effect as on-purpose murder. Of course, this is just my own theory. My sister Delta would say that my sample size isn’t big enough to draw such a conclusion. But I bet I’m right. Touching Snow is narrated in the first person by smart-talking Karina “Katu” Lamond, who lives in a white folks’ neighbourhood in New York with her mother, sisters, very young half-brothers, as well as her aunt, cousins, and her brutal stepfather, Mr. Gaston—referred to throughout as “the Daddy.” Karina and her sisters, Delta and Enid, have been victims of their stepfather’s “beat-ups” for the most minor of offences. Not finishing all their supper, for example, is grounds enough for a beating. The girls have been thrown, slammed against walls and stoves, kicked, punched, and whipped with a belt. It appears that Karina has developed either epilepsy from head trauma or functional seizures (events that look like epilepsy but are not due to an epileptic disorder) from psychological trauma. Karina’s mother is fully capable of similar discipline, but she never goes as far as the Daddy. Excessive corporal punishment is apparently the norm within the Haitian community. (The novel is set in the mid 1980s, but from an online search, I see that the physical abuse of children persists in immigrant communities—not just among Haitians. It appears that social services have put a lot of effort into providing corrective education for immigrant parents who have settled in the US.)The plot of Felin’s novel revolves around a particular incident in which Enid, Karina’s elder sister, is beaten to the point of unconsciousness. There’s a conspiracy of silence around this violence. If the Daddy’s actions were reported to police and he were charged, the family would be out on the streets and Karina’s aunt, cousins, and a lodger would be deported back to Haiti. The killing that Karina speaks about in the first paragraph is, of course, part of the story, too—though it’s neither as big nor as believable a part as I thought it would be. I know. I know. This sounds like a very grim read, and, yes, in some ways it is, but Felin leavens the darkness with a lively, blunt, and sometimes funny narrator, who often directly addresses the reader. Karina is also an immensely resilient character.There’s a secondary, not-entirely-convincing plot strand that concerns Karina’s work as a volunteer at an immigrant centre and her friendship with/crush on Rachael Levinson, the spoiled rich-girl daughter of the community-centre director. In some ways, Rachael is less a credible character than a convenient plot device, one reason things come to a head at Karina’s house.As far as I know, Felin did not follow her debut with further young adult or other fiction. That’s too bad. I’m not aware of a lot of children’s and young adult literature that provides insight into the culture, customs (including superstitions), and family life of Haitian immigrant families.