"My Heart & Other Black Holes" by Jasmine Warga

Interesting.  Very similar to "All the Bright Places" in many ways.  Again, we have an author writing a story about suicide because of a personal experience.  Again, we have an improbable relationship between two people who come across each other at the darkest moments of their lives, and again, we have a school assignment that pushes them to explore the world a bit.  With all the similarities, however, the conclusion is very different.  In many ways, this one had the ending I wanted that I didn't get in "All the Bright Places" -- but did I like it better?  As mentioned, I didn't like the other book's ending, but it did feel real.  In this story, the circumstances feel a tad forced, even if the characters ring painfully and powerfully real.  I particularly liked Aysel's description of her depression as "a black slug" inside her that eats away at everything good.  It is a vivid description, and a very accurate one, IMHO.  I also liked her dead-end job as a telemarketer.  Not only is it the perfect description of a purposeless life, but the snapshots of the people she speaks with communicate volumes about our isolation, and our connections.  Because we only see her point of view, this one is a bit more lovey-dovey than the other book.  There are no male perspectives here to temper her voice as she falls head over heels in love, although, as Aysel begins to see herself through the eyes of Roman, he is able to show her a reflection she doesn't expect.  Finally, I liked the fact that the parents here are complex, and not cut-outs.  They have dimension and don't respond the way you would think they do.  If you read both books, you may feel obligated to do a compare and contrast, but it is a worthwhile read in any case.  And this one won't leave you feeling devastated.

“The Boy in the Black Suit” by Jason Reynolds

For a novel about the death of a parent, this one is both gentle and sweet, rather than overwhelmingly sad.  Matt is suffering – falling asleep each night listening to the same song over and over, eating take-out rather than cook a meal, dealing with his father’s spiral down to a very dark place.  But the story is not dark.  Matt has a spirit which draws you to him.  There is something very uplifting about this young man.  He has strength and determination and a support system in the form of an interesting neighbor and a good friend.  The suit Matt wears for his job at an area funeral home is symbolic.  It is like the structure and formality holding him together when he would rather fall apart – but this is not a young man to let go.  He is seeking something, he doesn’t know what, to align this loss with his life as a whole.  A fast read, the voices here are real and compelling.  And it is not depressing.  This is more of a tale about coming out of the dark than going in.  Definitely worth the read.

“Sway” by Kat Spears

A G-rated cover belies the truly R-rated content of this tongue-in-cheek novel with laugh-out-loud dark humor.  Kat Spears proves that women can write down and dirty, expletive-filled novels about sex, drugs and rock ‘n roll as well as any guy.  Jesse has all the connections and smarts of Veronica Mars without any of the moral compass.  He deals drugs, has little regard for the people he manipulates, and claims not to be a panderer, but is exactly that – over and over.  The problem is, he encounters someone good.  Not good in a goody-two shoes way (okay, a little), but someone who is genuine.  It sets up a conflict within him that puts a spin in his operations and sends him down a path he didn’t see coming.  For a guy who has all the angles figured out, this is a problem.  What kept me coming back to this anti-hero protagonist was the reality that despite his “sway,” this young man is very lost.  Jesse, entrenched in his antics, is a contemplative, intelligent guy, who has some awareness of the world around him, even as he loses control of it.  He is depressed but not depressing, and has a survivor’s core I admire.  The novel touches on themes of concern but the story keeps perspective at a reasonable level.  I enjoyed this book, but then, my sense of humor is not typical.  Others, who share with me my odd sense of what constitutes “funny,” should enjoy it as well.

"All the Bright Places" by Jennifer Niven

***Spoiler Alert***

Jennifer Niven, an experienced adult author, enters new territory with this touching, tender book for the YA market. Theodore and Violet are made for each other -- in so many ways.  They are both "broken" and yet, in their darkest moments, they find solace and laughs, joy and healing when they come together.  For a book that begins with a possible suicide, I found it to be very life-affirming (and tremendously well-written) until the end.  It's not that the end is bad -- it's not.  It simply goes where I was really, really, really, hoping it would not go.  The author had "A Point" to make, and she made it -- without being heavy-handed and moralistic.  She simply let the tale go where it kind of had to.  Which, unfortunately, I hated.  I didn't cry as much as get angry.  Why couldn't Ms. Niven provide an "out"?  Jacqueline Woodson, when hounded about the end of "If You Come Softly" stated that she wrote 12 endings for the book, but only one rang true.  And so it was, I suspect, with this book.  Told in alternating point-of-view chapters, it is easy to connect with characters who feel very real (and, if you read the afterward, based on real people kinda sorta).  Taking them in a "happy shining" direction may satisfy my girly wishes, but would likely have undercut the power of the story, particularly for one character, who comes to a level of peace and understanding that the author may never have found in her own experience.  For fans of novels like "13 Reasons Why" there is some closure, but not a lot, as situations like this are far more complex than we can imagine.  Don't avoid it because of the end, however.  This is a page-turning novel that will suck you in and it is totally worth it.  So worth it, that a movie based on the novel is in production now.  As always, read it before you see it.

"Wherever You Go, There You Are" by Jon Kabat-Zinn

I had been interested in reading this book for some time as it was constantly being quoted in Yoga classes.  A little "added stress" in my life and I pulled it off my rather impressive pile.  It was a good call, but I don't think I read it correctly.  This is a manual, a handbook of sorts, helping readers to be more mindful, to practice mindfulness, and the impact that mindfulness can bring to your life.  I tried, as I do with all books, to read the whole thing through, as my list of "to read" is constantly growing.  Ideally, what I should have done is read it in small bites, not big gulps.  The chapters are short and grouped.  Reading one to three chapters in a sitting is preferable than 50 or more pages at a time.  You need time to absorb the sometimes very deep, dense text, and other times you simply need to think about what was said.  Quotes from a wide variety of people -- from Walt Whitman to Lao Tzu -- pepper the end of each section.  I liked the center sections the best, where Kabat-Zinn breaks out different ways of meditating and "being present."  Although I practice many of them already, it was nice to step back and examine that a bit.  I particularly liked his suggestion of doing walking meditation in a grocery store, as no one cares how slowly you go when you have a cart in front of you.  That one made me laugh.  He did, of course, go over the wonders of getting up with the dawn.  I've occasionally found that to be a lovely experience when it happens naturally, but these days, watching sunrise from my car window on my way to work, I'm not always feeling it.  It was a nice reminder to appreciate the moment.  He did something odd at the end of the book, however.  Some will enjoy it, others, not so much.  I was kind of on the fence.  He had several chapters on parenthood.  These seemed fairly personal and some sort of catharsis -- which was an odd contrast to the didactic nature of the rest of the book.  Since I am not a parent, I couldn't fully connect, although some of his stories were amusing.  I honestly didn't know what to make of the whole "dirty cat dish" tale other than he was trying to make a public apology to his wife.  He then went on to try and separate the focus of this book from spiritualism.  Given that many of the quotes he used were from spiritual leaders, this seemed odd.  Again, it felt as if he was trying to use that section to speak to a specific reader, rather than readers at large.  In any case, I did find this book to be both interesting and useful.  For me, I was able to take from it "what I took from it" -- and suggest you do the same.

"The Five Stages of Andrew Brawley" by Shaun David Hutchinson

Reading this for an upcoming conference, I was quite blown away, initially, by very strong, occasionally lyric, writing.  Andrew's story is powerful and the premise fascinating.  The inclusion of cartoons was interesting -- I didn't get most of them, but they increase the appeal for teen readers, I suspect.  Andrew is in his own "five stages" (hence the title) after losing his family.  The path he takes, and the feelings he wrestles with, are hidden in metaphors within a carefully woven tale.  Given the subject matter, it wasn't overly dark.  There is a good deal of light humor, realistic day-to-day living and terrific character descriptions.  There is even love, with a message or two about how making connections is the path to life.  As with all books destined for school shelves, there are questions -- is the language strong?  Yes, so keep this one at high school.  Is religion, which is touched on a good bit, appropriate?  Yes, I believe so.  No one religion is put over another, although various characters embrace or don't embrace it as they feel so compelled.  Religious conversation is natural, I believe, for young people facing death, as it is so "out of sync" with the natural rhythms of the world.  The book is both predictable and not.  While I guessed at some of the back-stories and character motivations, I was truly shocked by one turn I didn't expect.  My only beefs with the novel are, as is often the case, timeline and character age as well as length.  I felt that the book could have wrapped up way earlier, as the last few chapters before the climax seemed circular and didn't add much to the final outcomes.  As to age and timeline, it is made clear on the first page that Andrew is 17.  His reflections seem young for his age, which make sense if the event that took his family happened when he was 14, which is hinted at early on.  Later, however, it is made clear that he was at least 16 when it happened.  And it is never clear as to whether Andrew has been in his current dilemma for a few months or a full year.  It was a distraction in an otherwise good story.  This one will appeal to fans of the now-cancelled "Red Band Society" TV show and John Green's Fault in Our Stars.

Caldecott Nods

With awards season looming, I've been trying to skim through as many of the Caldecott possible picks as I can.  In very brief form, here are my takes "thus far":

Blizzard by John Rocco.  Easily a favorite.  Subtle use of line and perspective, added to a universal story, make this one a keeper.  Art fans will enjoy how he hints at transitions and tone with his style, kids will love it for the fold-out map. 

Circle, Square, Moose by Kelly Bingham, illustracted by Paul Zelinsky.  Hysterical.  Truly, just as laugh-out-loud funny, and clever, as the first title.  In a dark world, something this enjoyable should not be missed.

The Farmer & the Clown by Marla Frazee.  Heavily reminiscent of The Arrival by Shaun Tan, this muted, wordless book evokes a sense of the 1930s and has a European sensibility.  Nonetheless, kids really like it, "getting" the premise.

My Grandfather's Coat by Jim Aylesworth, illustrated by Barbara McClintock.  Another detailed book that can yield new discoveries with every read.  I like it, but feel it is too similar to another book with the same theme which won awards a few years back.  Also reminds me of Allen Say's work. 

Gravity by Jason Chin.  I liked this one a lot.  Subtle, clever, artwork that leaps out at you, just a "touch" of education in the mix and a tale you have to read carefully to fully get.  I seem to like it more than some of the kids, unfortunately.  The ones who get it like it, the ones who don't are just confused.  And no, it has nothing to do with the movie. 

My Teacher is a Monster by Peter Brown.  Oh yeah.  A favorite of kids and librarians alike, this one has a complex message that "speaks" to every reader.  A few have said this is a "must read" for every teacher. 

The Pilot and the Little Prince by Peter Sis.  I love Peter Sis.  Tibet Through the Red Box is probably one of my all-time favorites.  I learned a lot in this book, which now has me looking at Antoine de Saint-Expuery's Little Prince through very different eyes.  The problem is that I think he is "too much" for the very young.  If they like his books, great, but this is one of those cases of a picture book for older students (IMHO). 

Quest by Aaron Becker.  Like its predecessor, Journey, Quest is imaginative, rich, beautiful, and a true homage to Harold and the Purple Crayon.  Also similar to the 1990s computer games Myst and Riven, Becker imagines a layered world here, with puzzles and mysteries to be solved.  Another wordless book, astute young readers enjoy trying to figure out the messages inside the messages. 

The Misadventures of Sweetie-Pie by Chris Van Allsburg.  The heavily awarded Van Allsburg may win again with his latest entry, but I found it slightly creepy.  Kids don't see it that way, for the most part, and tend to take the ending as a glass half-full, but my adult sensibilities were shaken by the undertones.  Nice use of color and perspective help draw in the reader, however, and younger students *may* get the cautionary tale about the keeping of pets. T

he Right Word by Jen Bryant, illustrated by Melissa Sweet.  Much like River of Words:  The Story of William Carlos Williams, this is a biography in picture-book form, created by collage.  While I enjoyed River of Words, it has not moved much, and I don't anticipate this one moving much either.  Too simplistic for the older readers who would appreciate it, the pages are far too busy for the younger readers who would get something from the text.   

Telephone by Mac Barnett, Illustrated by Jon Klassen.  Any other year, this one might be the winner.  It takes the simple, classic game of "Telephone" and reinvisions it in a smart, interesting way.  Lots of details and the strong use of shape and line make this one a book you can read over and over.  In a crowded field of powerful picture books this year, however, Telephone may just end up being one we "like a lot."   

"Caminar" by Skila Brown

The subtle cover of this book does not well represent the power and darkness of the material within.  Told in incredibly rich, strong language, this is the tale of Carlos, a young boy in Guatamala in 1981.  This is a land ravaged by soldiers and rebels, where the people of small villages fall victim to violence they want nothing to do with.  Like most verse novels, it reads quickly ... but you need to slow down and really appreciate the effort that went into writing this.  The imagery here is amazing with poems that border on the "concrete" -- telling part of the story visually, by how the words are arranged on the page.  Symbolism and metaphor abound, with owl eyes, and "pinching" mentioned over and over.  It is not an easy read.  Reminding me slightly of Nick Lake's "In Darkness" this, too, is a fictional tale, but so full of truth as to be somewhat painful.  Also like Lake's novel, this is something that happened in a poor country which the U.S. either ignored, or made worse, so it is easy to get angry while reading it.  It is a tale of determination, survival and hope, but it is also a story of how we, as humans, can't stop the need to make war on one another, and how dehumanizing we can be in those endeavors.  A "winner" in my mind, coming up into awards season.  Don't read it for the quality literature that it is.  Read it as an important message that we should all fully understand.

"David and Goliath: Underdogs, Misfits and the Art of Battling Giants" by Malcolm Gladwell

Funny thing.  This has been the fall of "not Tipping Point".  First, I read Contagious, which was a book that went to long lengths to describe how it *wasn't* Tipping Point (it so wasn't, but not in the way the author meant) and now I read another Gladwell, and can't help feel that it, too, is a pale comparison.  It's not that this book is bad -- Gladwell is a terrific writer, and even when you totally disagree with him, you feel "pulled" to his point of view.  His writing style is fun, accessible, smooth and convincing.  But, in this case, just not quite as compelling as -- well, Tipping Point. 

 

SPOILER ALERT

 

There are nine chapters arranged into three sections, each trying to tell the story of how a little guy beat a big guy, often by bucking conventional wisdom.  Like a true journalist, Malcolm Gladwell doesn't just tell each tale, he introduces you to a person for each non-traditional effort, and shows who they are in the midst of the choices and decision-making.  Interestingly enough, some of the people in these vignettes are not successful -- their failures set up the "point" of a given theme.  Therein lies the problem, however.  By discussing failure as often as success, Gladwell strangely seems to undermine the points he is trying to make.  In one chapter, he discusses how two young people failed because these straight-A kids couldn't hack competitive Universities where (gasp) they had hard classes that made them work for "Bs".  Okay, my heart wasn't exactly bleeding here, but then in the next chapter, Gladwell highlights how tough times (Dyslexia, the loss of a parent at a young age) can actually create people who are more resilient.  So -- what's the point?  That the two college kids should have stuck to easier schools to maintain the illusion that they are the smartest people in their sphere?  Or that we acheive greatness when we have to fight to get there?  Gladwell does the same thing when talking about the Civil Rights movement in Birmingham and the Mother's March in Belfast.  He highlights the power of a moment, or a significant image or action, but then undercuts them as manipulated.  While he used many scenarios of interest to me (and some not -- such as sports), he was so wishy-washy that in the end I had no idea what he wants the reader to take away here. 

 

I did giggle a bit at his stabbing of sacred cows -- namely, affirmative action and class-size arguments.  He even uses Brer Rabbit stories -- oh my ...  So, be prepared for a little "discomfort" when reading this.  Nonetheless, he is Gladwell, and David did slay Goliath, so maybe a careful reader can parse out some wisdom for the road.  Not one of his best, but still better than many who copy him.

"Prophecy" by Ellen Oh

Again, low expectations led to a nice surprise.  With echoes of Mulan, Cinder, Xena, and a host of other warrior women stories, this "newbie author" has jumped on the woman-power wagon, but with enough originality to make it a fresh tale.  Kira is a soldier in a mythical Korean time.  She fights demons (by hacking off their heads -- and then black ooze comes out) but struggles with her identity as a female in a society that has certain expectations as to her role.  There is, of course, a prophecy, which is typically ambiguous but is easy to guess from the title and cover art.  In general, this is not a book of subtleties.  Nonetheless, I learned a lot about Korean culture without the book being too didactic, and there is real authenticity in the tone, which is fairly formal throughout.  It is that tone which can make the narrative seem stiff from time to time.  I didn't take issue with it -- but the language of the book did not "flow" as much as it had hard stops and starts.  One device I wasn't fond of were the repeated efforts to jump into Kira's dreams and not have the reader realize they were reading a dream sequence.  It didn't work since the events were clearly part of a dream, and it made transitions clunky.  Other than that, it was enjoyable, and had a good bit of action -- enough to entertain your basic online gamer.  What with the decapitations, archery and occasional groin kick (yes, the "good guys" deal these out from time to time ... unusual) it is the kind of story that should grab and hold readers who like their fiction visceral.  We will see the author, a local, in December.  I look forward to meeting her.

"Before Wings" by Beth Goobie

I knew nothing about this book by Canadian Beth Goobie other than the fact that it has shown up on multiple recommended lists for teens.  This being said, it took me a long time, a really long time, to figure out what it was about.  In many ways, it is an "atmosphere" novel -- the images and prose are lyric and striking with the "action" of the story being somewhat less important.  There is Adrien, a snarky, surly teenage girl dealing with a big health issue, the ultimately stereotypical summer camp run by Adrien's stoic, distant aunt, the roomate who is a complete opposite to Adrien and a cute boy named Paul.  There is also a bully, a lot of mayflies, some ghosts and a little "magical realism."  So, it is a book that is many things.  Because it was well-written, I was able to keep moving through it even though Adrien's behavior made me want to smack her from time to time (maybe that is just a thing with 15 year-olds ... felt the same way when Harry Potter turned 15).  At one point, I did think that Adrien would have been more appealing as a protagonist if it were first-person narration instead of third-person -- at least then we could know the thought processes driving this (w)itchy young lady.  On a small note, I wasn't wild about the cursing/smoking aspects of the novel, which seemed to be inserted, rather than organic.  The big problem, for me, is that the different threads never really pulled together as much as they just sat there.  As a realistic novel, it's good.  The characters are "alive" and complex and seem to go through the kinds of journeys that teens face, particularly in making friends.  As a romance, I guess it's fine.  I don't like romance and found this element of the tale to be predictable and sappy.  As a mystery, it's not really a "big resolve" as a "okay, so what?" (this is, in large part, because of an ending that seemed rushed and a bad guy that was fairly one-dimensional).  As magical realism, however, I was intrigued.  Adrien's interactions with the spirits was powerful, and, although inconsistent at times, was the most engaging part of the tale to me.  Paul's experiences were less interesting, and I liked his family and bike-riding sides a good bit more than the "scary dreams" he obsessed over.  So, in the end, it's not bad, it's not good ... I think you get out of it what you bring to it. 

"The Evolution of Calpurnia Tate" by Jacqueline Kelly

Funny how things happen.  Just read the nonfiction title about the Darwin family, didn't like it, then picked up this one, a fictional take using similar themes, and really enjoyed it.  Must have Evolution on the brain.  Nonetheless, this was the book that "Charles and Emma" should have been.  For a fictional story, it was very real, very personal, and very engaging.  Calpurnia Tate (known as Callie Vee by most of her family) is a young girl on the brink.  She is on the brink of turning 12, the brink of living in a new century, and spends the first part of the book complaining of the Texas heat at her family's pecan orchid in 1899.  Slogging through the expectations of what it meant to be a "young lady" of the time, Calpurnia feels a pull towards the untraditional, but can't put a name to it until she crosses paths with her cantankerous, odd-ball grandfather, who opens up a larger world for her in the form of science, literature, and history.  The book is well-written and compelling -- interesting given the slow pacing and high-end vocabulary that includes more than a few references to the work and theories of "Mr. Darwin."  I think the draw is Calpurnia's voice, which speaks to us, in the modern age, in a way that is extremely relatable.  She is a fully-drawn, complex girl, who questions, yearns, and seeks to understand.  The family dynamics are not black and white and could be translated to any time period, with irritating brothers, a mom who struggles and a dad whose work makes him conspicously absent.  It is a rich tale, one that has few major actions, but lots of meaningful conversations and subtle allusions.  There is laughter, too, particularly the chapter about the turkeys, which made me guffaw, even with my vegetarian sensibilities.  My only worry with the book has to do with who will read it.  The 11 year-old protagonist is too young for most older students to pick it up, but this isn't a book for 11 year-olds (unless they are very good readers).  It is long, deep and uses a lot of those 50 cent words I had to slow down for.  Younger students would like Calpurnia and her crazy brothers, but I think more mature readers bring something to the novel that would help them appreciate it more.  In any case, the copy I borrowed had been checked out frequently, so I shouldn't fear.  A good book almost always finds its way into the right hands.  Forget the stuffy and erudite tone with some Newbery Honors, this one has real soul.

"Charles and Emma: The Darwin's Leap of Faith" by Deborah Heiligman

Once again, I was stymied by expectations.  I was prepared to like this book.  It won a ton of awards when it came out and anything about Charles Darwin has to be interesting, yes?  Well, maybe.  And maybe not.  The premise is good.  Charles Darwin's voyage revolutionized his entire belief system ... about nature, about God, about life.  But he waited 20 years to publish his theories.  In the meantime, he married a woman of deeply held Christian beliefs, had children, and wrestled with the discoveries he had made.  Because he wrote vociferously in his notebooks, and because it was a time of letters (oh, what will happen to the ephemeral records of the modern age?), the author is able to piece together a very complete picture of these 20 years -- of Darwin's fear of marriage and ultimate happiness with it, of the complexities that parenthood brought to Darwin's life in an age of high infant mortality.  The problem is -- it just doesn't go anywhere.  Each chapter, told in stiff prose mimicking the formality of the era, is simply a re-hash of journals and letters with supposition filling in any gaps.  It's not a story as much as a very detailed timeline.  There was absolutely no page-turning quotient for me and it dragged so much I had a difficult time finishing it.  The overly pedantic tone was also a turn-off in the initial chapters.  Yes, from a research perspective, it is strong -- hence the awards, I would guess.  But in the end, it wasn't engaging unless you are the kind of person fascinated by the kind of leather covering that was used on Darwin's journals (a bit of minutiae mentioned repeatedly).  And isn't that what we look for in a book, nonfiction or otherwise?  Something that moves us? For me, this just came off as a glorified set of encyclopedia entries. 

"Two Boys Kissing" by David Levithan

Magnificent.  David Levithan is an exceptionally good writer who comes up with unique stories told in interesting ways.  (I would say he's a god, but I've seen him ... he's a quiet, almost shy Jewish man from NYC who looks far younger than his age ... not exactly "god-like").  "Every Day," his tale of an entity called "A" who wakes up in a different 16 year-old body each day, was intriguing.  Conceptionally, the book had me thinking about identity and how we define who we are.  "Two Boys Kissing" is even better.  Some of the most lyric prose I have ever encountered, it literally grabbed me from the opening sentences and didn't let go.  Without chapters, it flowed on so smoothly and beautifully, I finished it in two sittings because I simply could not put it down.  The story is personal -- the tale of eight young gay men working to find their way in the world -- but it is also told with amazing gravitas.  The novel is narrated by a chorus of gay men who died of AIDS at the height of the epidemic.  The chorus speaks directly to the reader, making the novel incredibly powerful.  I can't even give it a hanky count, as I'm pretty sure I went through half a box.  Easily my #1 book this year.  Bravo, Mr. Levithan, you not only did it again, you did it even better.

"Between Shades of Gray" by Ruth Sepetys

A long time ago, I swore off Holocaust novels.  Much like Dystopia today, there was a time when tales of this kind dominated the YA market.  This story, however, is a little different.  It is about the fictional Lina, who is a Lithuanian caught up in the Russian annexation of Baltic Republics during World War II.  Russia invaded Lithuania, Latvia and Estonia, killing some 20 million people, nearly a third of those country's populations.  Some were murdered outright, but many more were sent to prisons or labor camps where they perished of disease and starvation over the next few decades.  To this day, Russia denies this ever occurred.  The U.S., in their fight against Germany, was aligned with Russia and seemingly turned a blind eye.  Ms. Sepetys did her homework.  Although fictionalized, the story reads as truth.  It is horrific and brutal but not painful to read.  Each event is covered in a brief, almost analytical way, but not dwelled upon.  The characters are drawn in fairly flat stereotypes -- being described as "the bald man," "the grouchy lady," or "the girl with the dolly," for instance.  It helps the reader distance themselves from the action of the novel.  In most cases, we only learn in retrospect that the person had dimensions to them.  Much of that perspective comes from the narrative voice of Lina, who seems young for her 15 years, until you remember that this is 1941, an age long before Social Media helped sophisticate our children.  Interestingly enough, the book does have lyric flow to it ... in a series of flashbacks to "normal life" as Lina tries to piece together the clues of what was to come.  It creates a colorful, rich backdrop to the stark sameness of the gray that dominates her new world.  A fast read with a strong page-turning quotient, this one is not only a worthy read, but one that brings an atrocity to light in an accessible way.  Definitely a must read.

"Contagious: Why Things Catch On" by Jonah Berger

I was hesitant to read this book club title, given that "The Tipping Point" is one of my favorite books, and this sounded strikingly similar.  The author doesn't beat around the bush, letting us know in the introduction that "The Tipping Point" is a very good read, but alludes to it being both incomplete and unscientific.  In short, Berger thinks his theories are better, and restates that, in various ways, throughout the book.  The gentleman doth protest too much, methinks.  Nonetheless, his is an interesting set of ideas, which could be taken as a drill-down of "The Tipping Point."  Where Gladwell looked at trends, Mr. Berger looks at human behavior within those trends, particularly with an eye to marketing.  He creates a six-point plan which he calls "STEPPS."  While not a scientific formula, he believes these six elements are the major factors at play when we pass on information, essentially making something "popular."  They are:  Social Currency, Triggers, Emotion, Making Something Public, Practical Value and Stories.  Much like that oft-mentioned other book, he uses good examples which support his premise and keep the concepts very accessible.  It is a readable book, and one that most probably complements other similar titles on the market, such as "How We Decide" and Daniel Pink's "Drive."  The only quibbles I have with it are the epilogue, which, like any good college paper, simply restates the points made in the previous chapters, and a sense that Mr. Berger is, in true Animal Farm style, "more right" than others.  The bottom line is that if we truly understood human behavior, marketers would all be rich and our society would be very different.  People may be predictable en masse, but we are also messy and complex.  We don't always act the way sociologists think we will, which is what makes it all so exciting ... we can be unpredictable now and then.  Which is why my next pop-psych book will likely be Malcolm Gladwell's "Outliers."  I guess it is Berger's turn to determine whether Gladwell is predictable, or someone who helps shape public opinion.

"The Runaway King" by Jennifer Nielsen

With publisher pressure on YA authors these days, one wonders if it is really up to the writers as to how long their stories run.  In the case of this tale, a sequel proves unfortunate.  The first book in the series introduced us to Sage, a clever street urchin with surprising survival skills.  The book was well-written, fresh, and a solid fantasy which I very much liked.  As one of my students said, however, the sequel is derivative ... of the first book.  The young man said it perfectly, in that this book feels like the exact same story as the first in terms of plot.  It is also very slow.  After a big fight in chapter one, almost nothing happens for the next half of the novel.  Sage is moody, he pouts, he's not nice to others, and then he is finally pressed into action (which becomes quite violent at times).  The last third of the tale is fine, but by then it is hard to care.  With apologies to Ms. Nielsen, I'm probably skipping out on book number three.

“Cress” by Marissa Meyer

Yay!  So often, with series, the energy of the first book cannot be sustained.  Not so with Meyer’s “Lunar Chronicles” which has tripled its “cast” in this third book and is still a fun page-turner with a nicely original spin on some very old stories (Fairy Tales in a Science Fiction future).  Cress, the newest character in the series, is, in some ways, more intriguing to me than Scarlet, the lead in the second novel.  Trapped in isolation, she is child, savant, and hopeless dreamer.  It is easy to like her amidst Cinder’s hardness and Scarlet’s pathos.  Other characters join the fray and one gets a sense of “Beauty and the Beast” meets “Star Wars” in this latest installment.  Meyer does a terrific job of balancing the paths of each character but maintaining enough forward momentum that you can’t wait until there is resolution.  Sadly, resolution will not be found here, as a fourth, yet-to-be published, book is on the horizon.  Nonetheless, some of my frustrations with hanging plotlines from the first book are resolved a bit, and there is some loss as well.  I can only hope that when all is said and done, Marissa Meyer will fulfill my need to read “And they lived happily ever after” as she wraps things up.  At the moment, that doesn’t seem likely, but this is a series that has defied expectations, time and time again.  Given how satisfying this book was, I do believe it can happen …

“Divergent” by Veronica Roth

Here’s for low expectations.  I went in thinking this was yet another pale “Hunger Games” rip-off, only to be pleasantly surprised.  It is Dystopian, and it does have a plucky, if not sometimes whiny and nearly indestructible heroine (think Jack Bauer).  There is a cute guy with a dark side and a fair number of predictable plotlines, but all that being said, I really liked it.  The book is well-written, the actual plot somewhat unique – unique enough that it did not feel “derivative” (as one of my students said) and the characters are well-rounded, complex enough to hold my interest.  The book is, as a whole, quite a page-turner.  It is easy to see the teen appeal – good girl goes bad, complete with dangerous stunts, black clothes and tattoos, but I never felt like Ms. Roth talks down to her readers.  A fairly young author herself, the voices come across as authentic, even as these teens struggle to figure out their role in life.  I liked it enough that I now want to see the movie, with images in my head strongly in place.  A warning for readers … it is violent.  There are a number of brawls that result in significant injury, and a sharp item gouged into one young man’s face.  These incidences are described in very specific detail.  With all books, readers can, and do, choose to breeze through sections that might disturb them, but like other Dystopic tales, it might be best to give a head’s up to younger readers.

“Mr. Penumbra’s 24-Hour Bookstore” by Robin Sloan

This adult novel won an Alex Award in 2014 (best adult titles for the YA market) and, like all good librarians, I have been intrigued with the title.  A popular pick this Spring with Juniors reading “Millennial Fiction” I decided to check it out over the long days of summer.  Quirky, fun and an excellent example of “modern” literature, this is one of those rare stories that celebrates both books and technology.  Meet Clay, an unemployed graphic designer looking for work after the dot.com meltdown in 2009.  Wandering the streets of San Francisco, he discovers the oddest of bookstores – and is able to get a graveyard shift there.  Mysteries combine with gentle adventure in a tale that takes more turns than you would ever expect.  Think “a less bloody Da Vinci code” for the nerdy, geeky set.  This is not to say that the book is without a creep factor – I almost jumped out of bed one night when I turned off the lights and discovered that the pale yellow bookstacks on the cover glow in the dark.  What makes it “modern”?  Clay personifies the Millennial generation – he loves his MacBook, falls for a girl who works at Google, has a roommate who designs for ILM and has the staccato, Starbucks-fueled energy typical of a generation more interested in solving puzzles and living in the moment than, you know, eating regular meals or settling down.  Every character in the book is fully filled out, with rich descriptions that don’t drag down the narrative.  Names are unique and clearly carefully selected (or created).  There is Ajax, Kat, Deckle, Igor, Lapin, Imbert, Grone, Neel, Federov and more.  Many of the names of the characters refer back to Claude Garamont and Jean Jannon, whose sixteenth century work brought us the Garamont typeface (fictionalized as “Gerritszoon” here).  The essential questions are eventually answered, but it is very much the journey that counts.  For all of you who read the ending first … don’t.  This is a story about discovery as a process, not an end-point.  There is also a hysterical epilogue.  It’s an engaging book that is not particularly literary, a complex plot that is not overly deep.  Bottom line is that it is hard to describe a story with a fairly fresh twist without giving anything away – but I say, take the plunge and give it a shot.  Chances are you will like it … geek or not.

“Darth Paper Strikes Back” by Tom Angleberger

Much like the films, the second book in the Origami Yoda series is almost better than the first.  It is darker and has more complicated themes.  Well, darker for an Origami Yoda story, anyway – which is to say, not that dark.  Once again, we have the strange kid named Dwight, and his Origami Yoda finger puppet dispensing amazingly sage advice.  The crew is about to enter 7^th grade, their hopes and dreams full of the promise of “middle middle school” – but disaster strikes in the form of the evil bully Harvey, who has fashioned his own finger puppet … of Darth Paper (you know the background music here, right?)  In any case, this sequel lives up to all the raves received by the first book, and will leave you wanting more.  Bravo, again, Mr. Angleberger, for showing that teen angst doesn’t have to be so angsty.

“Page by Paige” and “Will & Whit” by Laura Lee Gulledge

Read these two as the author is under consideration for a visit next year.

"Page by Paige” was not what I expected!  Given the cover, I thought “Middle School book” with girl drama.  It’s far more layered and complex than that, with artwork that is ***stunning*** and subtle.  Page is a 15 year-old whose family has just moved from rural Virginia to New York City.  An artist, like her Grandmother, she feels lost, overwhelmed and uninspired.  She finds some “words of wisdom” in her Grandmother’s journal and each piece of advice chronicles a step in her journey outward – a journey towards new goals, new friends, and creativity.  The panels are made up in standard blocks with your basic bubbles, but Gulledge goes further, creating full-page drawings that break out of frame, and clever “commentary” in square boxes or small print that hugely adds to the narrative.  The emotional tone of the artwork is immensely powerful and Grandmother’s advice is not only “right on” but can be applied to life as a whole.  This one was completely satisfying, a new "winner" in graphic novels IMHO, and one I plan on recommending to a great number of folks.

“Will & Whit” is the second effort by Laura Lee Gulledge and was “okay” but didn’t knock my socks off to the same degree.  It is similar in style – a seventeen year-old lives with her cool aunt in Charlottesville, VA, running an antiques shop and hanging out with her quirky friends the summer before Senior Year.  The girl, “Will,” previously lost her parents in a car accident, a subject that should underpin the tale but is only touched on briefly.  The drawings are both clear-cut and subtle, with the main character’s fears appearing as pointillist shadows around her.  Will feels a little un-moored, and the artwork still has layers beyond layers of meaning … but without the structure of Grandma’s notes, the story doesn’t move much.  There is a storm named “Whitney,” old friends, new friends, and a carnival of sorts, but not a lot really happens.  If the point of drama is for a character to face challenges, move forward and grow, then the crux of the story – Will dealing with the loss of her parents, should be predominant.  Instead, I left the book feeling like the entire message was “So you had some loss – time to move on.”  I just didn’t see Will’s struggle with this significant gap in her life being grounded and real.  Having just gone through the loss of a colleague, the emotions felt superficial and glossed over.  Can’t help but feel that the author has, perhaps, not lived through the sudden or unexpected death of a loved one???  I also had issues with two of the characters -- Noel, a friend, and Desmond, a possible love interest – looking so similar I didn’t know who was appearing in the frame until their name was stated by another character.

Maybe lightening only strikes once.  Clearly, “Page by Paige” was something Laura Lee Gulledge was driven to write.  She is also a deeply talented artist.  Whether or not she becomes a strong graphic novelist will depend on how she develops as a story-teller.

"So B. It" by Sarah Weeks

Recommended by students for over a year, I finally got around to reading this unusual and touching book.  Heidi is a girl surrounded by mystery.  Found in her mother's arms on the doorstep of a woman with Agoraphobia, she grows up surrounded by Bernadette, a caring eccentric, and her mom, whose limited vocabulary makes it clear that she is mentally challenged.  The problem is that Heidi has questions ... about who she is and where she came from.  The big question of the book is whether answering these questions will bring you happiness.  Told in short chapters, each headed by one of Heidi's mom's words (mom has only 23 words/phrases in her vocabulary), the prose is accessible yet highly lyrical.  Heidi's questions, and some of her answers, are life lessons -- nuggets that you collect along the way -- seeds that will stay with you long after putting the book down.  While this is a good middle school pick, there is a depth to it that transcends age.  I can imagine that anyone reading it would be both surprised and impressed by the tale.  One thing I liked it that it is not "clean."  Everything kind of happens as it should, I guess, and the ending does wrap stuff up, but the issues aren't black and white.  People and events are complex, and that complexity gives the novel shadings that left me wondering about the moral implications -- what is "right" and what is "good."  The book made me think and question.  It was also a joy to read.  You can't ask for better than that.

“The Forest of Hands and Teeth” by Carrie Ryan

Bad librarian.  Sick of Dystopia, I grabbed this one, thinking it was a fantasy.  Because I *judged the book by its cover*!  Yeah, it’s Dystopia.  Think “Handmaid’s Tale” meets “World War Z” and you have the gist.  Mary lives in a small, gated village where nuns and their strict adherence to religion determine nearly every aspect of life.  Betrothed to a young man she does not love (Mary longs for his brother), the girl yearns to know what is beyond the forest limiting her world.  Well, the answer, of course, is zombies.  You were going there … right?  Yeah.  Anyway, despite the weird melding of themes, Carrie Ryan’s writing is lyrical, strong, and deeply haunting.  The question is … who will read this book?  Those who like the aching/longing teen girl drama won’t like the zombie violence and bloodshed, and those who like zombies won’t like the slow pacing and meditative quality of the tale.  It is also bleak.  Bleak with a capital “B.”  There is no light here – the grays on the cover seem to imbue every aspect of the story.  It’s a zombie apocalypse and because of that it is easy to say, without spoilers, that many many people die in fairly unpleasant and graphic ways.  That’s a given.  Having never read a zombie book, I wasn’t sure what I would think, but as a topic it wasn’t onerous.  Where I struggled with the story was with Mary herself.  While curious and rebellious, she does not have the spirit of Katniss, and bows to convention more than you might think.  It is only at the end of the tale that we see the seeds of a warrior spirit.  Mary is also selfish – a point made by no less than three different characters in the book.  Given the limits of her life, she has a lot, but she continues pushing on towards a goal that is ephemeral, at best.  Her survival is so paramount that in the end, we don’t even know the fates of some of the characters.  They remain trapped as Mary moves on.  (There is also the strange question of how she fights zombies and climbs ropes wearing a skirt, but I’ll let that one go.)  She also has a fascination with the creatures … nearly obsessing over them.  I wasn’t sure what to make of this story element, understanding it and not understanding it all at the same time.  With a “Giver”-like ending I wasn’t sure where this was going, but yes, there are additional novels (although each seems to be about a different character and setting …).  So, if thoughtful introspection mixed with battling the undead is your thing, go for it!

"Racing in the Rain: My Life as a Dog" by Garth Stein

This one is confusing on a lot of levels.  First, it turns out there are two versions.  There is the book I read, called "Racing in the Rain:  My Life as a Dog" and there is the "adult" version "The Art of Racing in the Rain:  A Novel."  Keep in mind ... they are the ***exact same book*** but the titles and cover art have been altered to make it appear as if one is more mature. (The copy I read had an interview in the back, along with family photos.  This is not in the adult version but easily found online.)  I've recently decided, while pulling "adult" books for a teacher, that you make a book "adult" by putting the words "A Novel" after the title (just in case anyone is confused.)  Personally, I find this practice to be pretentious and unnecessary, as if doing it gives the work a level of literary quality it wouldn't have otherwise, but the bigger point is that this isn't particulalry a book for the young -- no matter how many adorable dog faces you put on the cover.  I picked it up because I wanted something light after all the dystopia.  It wasn't light.  The cover made me think there was something cute or funny about the book ... and it is in no way light or funny.  I'm not saying the book was bad.  Once I got into what it *was* I enjoyed it to a degree, but the expectation made the beginning parts difficult. 

This is a tale of Denny, a down-on-his-luck race-car driver, whose life falls apart with one challenge after another.  What makes the book intriquing, however, is that Denny's life is told through the eyes of his dog, Enzo.  Enzo has all the dry wit of a New Yorker columnist and his observations about life are nothing if not erudite.  With enough symbolism, metaphor and life lessons to thrill an English teacher to the bone (pun intended) this one makes for a high level read that takes a lot of time to absorb -- surprising, given the short chapters and succinct vocabulary.  The book spent time on the NY Times bestseller list, I think, because it is both literary and yet accessible.  Although it reads as a fictionalized autobiography, Garth Stein, the author, really "pieced" it together from a lot of different elements ... his own racing career and love of dogs, a poem he heard at a conference, the struggles of a colleague and a documentary from Mongolia that stated dogs are reborn as men.  The result is something that nonetheless feels very "real."  Those interested in car racing will also deeply enjoy the detail on that seemingly insane profession.

What I didn't care for as much was the structure of the book.  In theatre, they say that "reflection" is the worst kind of writing, because the drama is lost.  By looking back, you have a strong sense of how the story will play out, and that natural tension of "what is to come" never happens.  This is a book with few surprises, more driven by the nature of the storytelling than a sense of build and climax.  Again, it's not bad, it just had little "driving force" behind it.  There is also a theatre aphorism that you "find the humor" in everything (hence, Shakespeare's gravedigger scene in Hamlet).  There is little humor here, although there are rare moments of joy.

It is a rich novel but not, for me, a hugely engaging one given the predictability (yes, I had the kleenex ready exactly when I knew I had to have it handy).  Nonetheless, should it find the right audience (particularly if you are a pet owner), it will be greatly loved. 

"Steelheart" by Brandon Sanderson

On one hand, I am totally burned out on Dystopian fiction, on the other hand, this was really, really good.   Be forewarned ... this is dark.  Very dark.  In the first chapter we see a super-powered being blow people away, indiscriminately, with the author providing very "specific" detail.  That begins a tale of death, destruction and revenge and very, very big guns.  Teen readers will love the high action, smart deductions by our hero and unexpected twists.  This is superheroes gone bad, but told in a very engaging, clever and somewhat original way.  It's easy to see why the novel has been living on the New York Times bestseller list and is showing up on nearly every recommended list of books this year.  It is a tale that sticks with you, one that, at its core, strongly echoes the saying "power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely."  Deeply told, with an original voice and vision, there is a sequel on the way, so read it soon.

“Better Nate Than Ever” by Tim Federle

Ebullient.  It’s not a word I get to use much but it was very much in the forefront of my thoughts while reading this incredibly delightful book.  Nearly every page leaves you with laughs and an “aww.”  Nate is an 8^th grader who is constantly bullied by classmates and his older brother for being gay because he loves show-tunes and lives to be on Broadway in New York.  Unfortunately, he lives in nowheresville western PA and is decidedly undecided about his sexuality (which I really liked – the idea that this isn’t some YA “problem novel” about his sexual identity, it’s simply about his dreams).  He runs off to NYC to attend an audition for “E.T., the Broadway Musical” and hilarity and misadventures ensue.  Nate’s voice is smart, wry, and exuberant.  His reflections on New York are quintessential and on-target.  Federle manages to perfectly capture those first days people spend in the city – the wonder, shock, and awe; and through the voice of Nate also finds a liberating freedom in it all.  Nate soaks it in and learns quickly how to navigate the insane atmosphere that is central New York city.  He doesn’t seem like a risk-taker but there is something admirable about his “do or die”/“in for a penny, in for a pound” mentality.  Shy, small, a little scared, Nate nonetheless rises to the occasion no matter what the obstacles.  Told mostly in an interior monologue, his thoughts are a careening course of brilliance and touching innocence.  There are some darker parts of the tale, lightly touched on in a couple of later chapters, which ground the whole thing, but in general this was an utter joy to pick up after depressing dystopic story after depressing dystopic story.  Told in short chapters with very funny titles, this one is a page-turning “keeper” (and yes, there is a sequel out already …)

"Battling Boy" by Paul Pope

First Second Press enters the superhero market with this well-reviewed graphic novel.  It's clearly a set-up for a series (our hero, the "boy," goes through only one of his 12 magic t-shirts ... yes, t-shirts ... in this first installment.)  There isn't much meat here.  In 202 pages you basically get three battles and a little exposition in the area of family backgrounds.  To be honest, I'm not sure what this is.  At first it seemed derivative, then a parody, then an homage.  Maybe it's all three.  Battling Boy's father is extremely Thor-like and the realm he comes from looks suspiciously like Asgard.  The dead hero's daughter drives a car that looks a *lot* like a Batmobile and the retro setting seems to be a nod to Dick Tracy (not to mention the strong color palette that nearly jumps off the page at you).  There is a bar scene that George Lucas would appreciate (including a few patrons with, umm, "interesting" appendages ... think PG-13).  It is genuinely funny although I'm not sure if it was intended to be.   Battling Boy's father speaks a regular dialect when acting as a dad, but switches to an elevated tone when the stakes get higher.  I'm thinking it was meant to be so over-the-top to make fun ... at least that's the way I took it.  Names also seem tongue-in-cheek.  One bad guy is named "Sadisto," another "Humbaba."  I giggled myself silly when one police officer mentioned the defecations of the Humbaba, which only eats metal.  Pope gets a good number of thumbs-up here.  The characters are diverse in race and body type.  Women look like women, not Barbie dolls.  Pope almost overdraws faces, creating so many lines and wrinkles that it is clear plastic surgery has never come to this world.  There are some creative monsters, including the "ghouls," who are deeply creepy.  Dialog is painfully light unless you like "Fump," "Foom," "Bzzt," and "Hrngh," among others.  It's got a lot of action, a teen hero who can't figure out how to kill the creatures and at least one hot babe.  It will undoubtedly be a hit.

The "Legend" series by Marie Lu

 

I've been joking with my book club that every book I look at for purchase these days is compared to "Hunger Games."  There is the "Like Hunger Games in a hospital" or "Like Hunger Games for older readers" or "Hunger Games meets Harry Potter."  The comparisons to "Hunger Games" will be inevitable when reading this New York Times best-selling series (coming soon to a multiplex near you) as we live in an era where every Dystopic tale gets told.  The similarities are strong ... one of my students dismissed the series as "too derivative."  The tale centers on two young people in the semi-near future who live under the iron fist of a despotic leader.  There are rebellions, revolutions, loss of life and of loved ones.  There is a starving underclass and a media-saturated upper class that revels in excess.  Marie Lu, like Suzanne Collins, describes a cast of diverse characters who reflect modern society far more than the homogenous characters of YA Lit of the past and gets gold stars for making the female characters as dominant, and strong, as the male characters.  There are differences, however.  "The Republic" is not Panem and the militaristic structure is predominant.  Instead of an angry cat, there is a big, lovable dog.  In "Hunger Games," there is a love triangle that is somewhat secondary to the storyline, here, there are a number of "crushes" but the driving force of the story is a Romeo and Juliet style romance.  At the core of "Hunger Games" is a ripping criticism of modern media and a strong commentary on the value we place on the lives of the young.  The "Legend" series, on the other hand, is about governments and their imperfect nature in the hands of humans.  It is about the many grays in loyalties and relationships.  Characters switch roles throughout the saga and discover life isn't simple or predictable.  Lu takes the opportunity to draw on the many ills of our modern world, from commercialism to online gaming, as our lead characters discover the lands beyond their borders.  Like Asimov in his "Foundation" series, she intimates that truly good societies only come from an invested populace over a long stretch of time.  While both series are very good, I think "Hunger Games" is the better of the two.  It's kind of like the two "Star Wars" franchises.  The first (episodes IV through VI) are simple, clean, and have mass appeal ("Hunger Games").  The second series (episodes I though III) are complex and weighed down by politics ("Legend").  Katniss is a relatable figure -- June, one of the leads in the "Legend" series, is a soldier, and as such, can be distant.  Day, the other lead character whose POV is shared in alternating chapters, is more relatable but his voice weakens a tad as his world turns upside down.  I became somewhat irritated with June's constant calculations and extraordinary clothing descriptions ... eventually wondering if it was about a soldier's training or OCD (a joke).  When Day begins spouting the same level of description, and a character describes "a bad night" in the third book with a film-like vocabulary (you can hear the flashback music as he speaks), I couldn't help but feel the oppressive hand of the author.  The tale is interesting, but, for me, not driving.  I pushed through because I wanted to know how it all turned out.  As I was reading, I was confused as to why the series progressed to a third book when it seemed to come to a natural conclusion at the end of the second.  In retrospect, the third book brings together many threads and wraps up well, but you have to wonder if Lu was pressured by her publishers to expand the story ... it would explain some of the narrative that makes certain sections drag in any otherwise strong tale.  Is it worth it?  Yes.  If Dystopian Fiction is your thing, go for it.  And yes, it should satisfy the cravings of those looking for something "like" Hunger Games.