Mariko Turk's THE OTHER SIDE OF PERFECT is a sophisticated, nuanced look at the inner life of a teenage girl who has been forced to abandon a longed-for dream and is having a hard time with it.

Alina has been studying to be a professional ballerina for as long as she can remember. The road to success meant grueling rehearsals, tough (unfair) instructors, and many sacrifices in the face of fierce competition. Just when it is all coming together and she's on her way to a top flight school that will take her career forward, she breaks her leg. Badly.

Though she can still dance, there will be no more serious ballet for Alina. That career path is closed. She does not take this well. How do you "get over" the one thing you love? How do you stem ugly feelings of jealousy and resentment toward those who can and will succeed in living the dream you longed to live yourself?

These are tough issues to tackle but Mariko Turk is up to the task. Her exploration of the inner lives of competitive dance among young people - or anyone whose ambitions push them harder than is typical - is beautifully executed. Turk's writing is streamlined and clear, well organized, unshowy yet expressive. She creates a fascinating character in Alina, who is not always portrayed in flattering light. Few heroines in fiction are allowed to be "real" in a way that Alina is. The quiet rage that she feels as the result of the broken leg that destroyed her longed-for career causes her at times to make ungenerous remarks and have thoughts about others that occasionally border on nasty. She just can't help it. She misses the life she had, that she worked so hard for, and that she lost in an instant.

But before judging Alina too harshly, ask yourself this: how would a real life teenager (or an adult for that matter) deal with such disappointment? Wouldn't she be jealous? Wouldn't she find it difficult to cheer for friends who can still live the life that has now been closed off from her? Of course she would. And here is the true magnificence of this writer's abilities. Turk gets us to root for a heroine who isn't always the "nicest" girl in the world. She allows us to experience Alina's darker side, the part we all sometimes feel but keep hidden and are reluctant ot admit to. We see a little of ourselves in Alina, and we embrace Alina just as she is, even before the transition (a beautifully written character reversal) that will make us proud we cheered her on from the start.

Alina is fascinating character portrayal, a three-dimensional girl who will stay with me a long time. I don't want to give away too much, but she will learn to accept what happened to her, tempering the bitterness with something new. Her response to people around her will change, friendships deepen, and she will develop a new courage she didn't know she had. She will stand up to racist stereotypes in the world of dance and empower others to do work that is even more important than performance. Oh, Alina will always be edgy. Alina is Alina, but her drive and intelligence, her wit and honesty, will be used for larger purposes. Her story is one of silver linings but without the cringe. And Turk throws in a nice bit of romance to boot.