"She is Not Invisible" by Marcus Sedgwick

Sedgwick does it again.  Not that this book is anything like "Midwinterblood," but his ability to pack real characters and dense issues into a brief, concise, complex narrative never fails to fully engage me.  This tale covers science, psychology, numerology, family relationships, literature, cultural differences, racism, blindness, and yes, coincidence.  Like other books I have read of late, he also manages to take a minor swipe at technology.  Laureth is a very engaging protagonist, one who does for vision impairment what "Switched at Birth" has done for deafness -- essentially saying that the disability is simply a single factor of a full life, and not something that defines every aspect of her existence.  The short chapters are page turners, particularly as the story ramped up, and I was very afraid of where it might lead.  In the end, the answers to the many questions were more layered, and somewhat unexpected, compared to my expectations.  One interesting note was a comment that Sedgwick makes about authors who try to push coincidence into their themes too hard -- with a resulting unbelievability to their work.  Is it irony or coincidence that this was one of the core problems I had with the last book I read?  Only you can say.  Enjoy the ride (and the secret message).

"Revolution" by Jennifer Donnelly

The French Revolution was a long, drawn out, complicated event with a ton of players and unexpected turns.  Much like the actual Revolution, this book is a bit of a hot mess.  There are so many threads in this lengthy tome that some get left by the wayside.  There are so many twists that, in the end, I went from trying to maintain some needed "willing suspension of disbelief" to incredulity.  It's possible Ms. Donnelly could have pulled it all together, but in a lot of ways, she tried too hard.  I've never been a fan of an author who pushes an agenda instead of letting the story unfold, and that is certainly the case here. 

I usually try to compare books to other works in my reviews to give folks some context.  In this case, there are so many allusions -- and most of them are better.  I was reminded of two books in particular, Peter Dickinson's "A Bone from a Dry Sea" and Libba Bray's trippy "Going Bovine."

SPOILER ALERT

The story is this:  Andi, an anorexic/depressed/suicidal drug-using teen in Brooklyn, can't get over her baby brother's murder.  Andi hangs with a crowd ripped right out of almost any CW teen show.  Her rich, super-smart, invulnerable "friends" seem as two-dimensional as she feels.  The only thing holding her together is her music ... barely.  Her mother, a French painter, is similarly struggling, spending every free minute painting imperfect portraits of the lost boy.  Andi's father, a Nobel winning DNA specialist, has left town to hang with his pregnant, younger girlfriend.  As Andi and her mother spiral down, dad appears, hospitalizes mom, and takes an unwilling Andi to Paris, where she is told she "must" complete her Senior Thesis on the fictional musician Amade Malherbeau.  While her father travels around Europe to deal with business, she stays with old family friends, who, surprise, surprise, are Nobel winning historians studying the French Revolution (did I mention Andi apparently speaks perfect French?)  Andi finds a hidden diary of a young entertainer living during the Revolution, a girl named Alexandrine, nick-named Alex.  Alex's life also takes unexpected turns and she ends up being the sole companion to the young Dauphin, Louis-Charles, son of Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette.  When the royal family's fortunes change, Alex takes it upon herself to become a lawless renegade to bring the jailed boy some brief moments of happiness.  In the meantime, in modern-day Paris, Andi meets a cute musician and explores the catacombs.  After taking too many "Qwells" (a made-up anti-depressant), she falls down, passes out and has an Over the Rainbow experience.  In case you miss the Wizard of Oz connection, the author makes sure to hit you over the head with it (pun intended).  It all wraps up very neatly -- the story of Amade Malherbeau, Andi's thesis and new love interest, yadda yadda yadda. 

The biggest issue for me is that it just isn't believable.  I'm willing to go for a flight of fancy, but this is all a little too contrived, right down to the death of Andi's brother.  It isn't just that he is killed in random street violence, the scene plays out like some poor man's version of a Law & Order episode.  The writing isn't bad, but it isn't good.  It's just kind of bland.  Not the lyric/literary style I like, so it didn't draw me in.  The best written sections are the diary entries of Alex -- and therein lies the heart of the matter (pun intended, but you would have to read it to get the joke).  Alex's story is just far more compelling.  The stakes are bigger and Alex is a fighter.  Andi, on the other hand, may be a young woman you feel sorry for, but eventually she got on my nerves.  She was whiney, passive, and all too willing to give up.  Had Ms. Donnelly just focused on the historical story, I would have found this to be engaging.  As it is, I spent way too much time looking at the page count on the eBook version I read.

"Half Bad" by Sally Green

Harry Potter meets Divergent in this new trilogy that has all the kids abuzz.  Essentially, a half-breed witch is hunted by the "good guys" as he tries to track down his bad guy father.  I found it a bit hard to get into, despite the high page-turning quotient.  The writing here isn't as much a flow as it is staccato.   Mostly written as a first person narrative, it switches into second person twice -- once at the beginning and once as it progresses from the past to the present.  Because it is only those two times, it took a while to figure out what was going on.  It turns out, in this case, that the second person voice isn't about a super-narrator, rather, our protagonist is giving himself some "self-talk" to try to separate himself from the physical abuse he suffers.  Other than the jumpy beginning, I enjoyed the story, which does get graphically violent as it goes along.  This trend is likely to be magnified in the second book, indicated by a teaser at the end.  An interesting note is Sally Green's subtle (or not so subtle) subtext.  She has points to make about modern British society, and makes them well.  There are undertones about the inequities between whites and blacks, religious intolerance, even a swipe at technology, and how it numbs us to the world around us.  A worthy addition to the semi-dystopic literature that is all the rage these days.  The second book, "Half Wild," is out, with a third coming.

"The Night Gardener" by Jonathan Auxier

Remember those scary stories told around the campfire when you were a kid?  Take the spooky factor of those, and add a good bit of literary merit, and you have a terrifically creepy book that manages to provide a real chill without a significant amount of blood and gore.  The tone of this "ghostly tale" starts off rich and never lets up.  It's a page turner of quality.  Auxier freely admits sources that inspired him in an author's note at the end.  Ray Bradbury, Washington Irving, J. M. Barrie and Frances Hodgson Burnett all influenced a story that feels like a cross between something conjured by the Bronte sisters and a yarn spun by an old man in an Irish bar.  The story is simple -- two Irish kids end up at an English estate as "the help" after escaping the famine at home.  Except things aren't that simple.  The Windsor family that Molly and Kip wait on aren't well, and they have secrets.  Added to that, there is a nighttime mystery, one that becomes increasingly frightening as the chapters unfold.  It's also a morality play, one that gives warning to those who would have their dreams fulfilled.  Not hooked yet?  Check out this opening:  "The calendar said early March, but the smell in the air said late October.  A crisp sun shone over Cellar Hollow, melting the final bits of ice from the bare trees.  Steam rose from the soil like a phantom, carrying with it a whisper of autumn smoke that had been lying dormant in the frosty underground."  Yes, I read it in two sittings, as I simply couldn't put it down.  Absolutely a stellar read.  But don't read it before you go to sleep at night ...

"What Spins the Wheel: Leadership Lessons From Our Race for Hope" by Len Forkas

Business entrepreneur Len Forkas had his world shaken when his son was diagnosed with cancer, shortly after returning home from a family holiday.  In an effort to help his son deal with the isolation of his disease, Forkas found a way to get a camera into the boy's classroom, allowing him to maintain both his educational progress and his friendships.  It was such a success that Mr. Forkas decided to create a similar opportunity for other children with cancer, and named the charity Hopecam.  After raising funds for Hopecam through a number of races and marathons, sportsman Forkas heard about RAAM, Race Across America, a 12 day bike race from California to Maryland.  He competed in the event in 2012 and raised more than $300,000 for his charity.  Then, he wrote a book about his experience in the race.  The book is designed to use the lessons he learned about team-building in the race as a metaphor for leadership -- showing how the most important part of leading is getting the right people around you, and motivating them appropriately.  The messages of this book are good.  The delivery is so-so.  First, Forkas tells his powerful personal story in a relatively removed way.  I sped through the first 30 pages or so just to make sure his son was okay.  He reveals, almost as an aside, that his son is in full remission.  Then, there is an "executive summary" which encapsulates so much of the book that the bulk of the story seems incredibly repetitive.  It's also not very deep.  The messages Forkas tries to emphasize make sense, but without elaboration, they come off a bit like those ephemeral posters you see in generic offices ... all philosophy with little substance.  When Forkas gets to the actual tale of his race, it becomes a rendition like someone else's unending vacation monologue -- too many details rather than an engaging story.  What is odd is that Forkas, for all of his charitable intent, doesn't actually come off like a good guy here.  The focus on racing, rather than his son, seems somewhat self-involved, and many of the chapters boil down to "the biking was hard, I got mad at my crew but I overcame that using one of these little pearls of wisdom, and I remained ahead of most of the pack."  Len Forkas is competitive, and it shows.  In private business, that determination to be better than others might be a driving force, but in education, it is questionable as to whether this kind of make it/break it attitude is something we should emulate.  Len Forkas raised a lot of money for a great cause by taking part in a race.  I guess my question after reading it is why he couldn't have raised the funds simply by making the journey.

"Diversity Explosion: How New Racial Demographics are Remaking America" by William H. Frey

I read this for the same bookclub that did "The Next America."  In a clever twist, the club had taken four books on similar themes, and broken us up into groups, with each person picking one of the books to read.  We liked the titles, and the discussion, so much last time that we decided to rotate.  "Diversity Explosion" seemed like an extrapolation of "The Next America."  If you had taken a few chapters from the Pew Research book, and drilled down (really, really drilled down) into the numbers, the result would be "Diversity Explosion."  I like numbers, but even for me, this one was a bit much.  "The Next America" used the numbers to support essays on topics like interracial marriage, and Boomers vs. Millennials.  This book was nothing but data, and made more for skimming than reading, with a sense of the "big picture" coming through.  What I got was this:  The Sun Belt is "the" place to be now.  The word "minority" is no longer accurate.  There are distinct differences in generations of immigrants, so lumping in foreign-born with first generation can be very problematic.  The DC area is an outlier for almost every statistic in this book.  Even within culture and racial groups, there is tremendous diversity.  Am I glad I read the book?  Yes.  The information supported many of my assumptions, and challenged others.  It's good to keep these hard numbers in front of us -- it reminds the people of this nation that we are nothing if not about change.  As the grandchild of immigrants, I often think, this is the next wave of something that will help transform us.  It is worth the time to read these titles about the shifts taking place in this country.  Just, when it comes to this book, don't get lost in the graphs and charts.

"Boundless" by Kenneth Oppel

Kenneth Oppel returns to his very slight Steampunk roots in this action-packed tale of a boy, a train, a bunch of bad guys, a circus, and a monster or two.  Like "Airborn," the plucky young hero, Will Everett, has a spirit of adventure and a willingness to do what it takes.  Page-turning isn't enough of a phrase to explain the nonstop adventures, tied into a teensy bit of mystery, that you will find here.  It was the first book I've read in a while that I stayed up for -- reading into the night because I had to know what would happen next.  I like Oppel's writing.  This is the third book of his that I have gobbled up.  His characters are engaging and intriguing, his plots a little unexpected, and his prose is clean and accessible without being simplistic.  In fact, for the mature reader, there are little tidbits -- allusions to other stories, to real historical people and events, a kind of circular setup to the tale -- but it is all subtle.  Nothing hits you over the head.  The story, like the characters, is also not fully black and white, but very shaded with gray.  Reading Oppel's work is a real treasure.  I was glad to have another opportunity to explore this fun, interesting author.

"Terrier" by Tamora Pierce

Oh, the drama.  At long last, I had a window to just read "what I wanted" and went for Tamora Pierce (who wouldn't?).  Her Lioness Quartet is one of my favorite series of all time.  But things did not go well.  First, there was an issue with my eBook portal, and I couldn't access the book for a few weeks, then, I got busy at work and didn't have time to read much.  Finally, I got a hard copy at the public library.  So, it took me two and a half months (I think) to read this book.  Which was probably not the best way to read any book, much less this dense fantasy tale with a gazillion pages.  I'm not sure how much all the issues impacted my perceptions, but as much as I love Tammy Pierce's work, this wasn't a favorite.  That's not to say it's bad.  Tamora Pierce doesn't write bad.  It just wasn't my cup of tea.  Set in the same world as the Alanna books, this series takes place hundreds of years later, in a kind of medieval period, when magic is more of a little thing and there is an emergent society with guilds, societal classes, and law.  Beka Cooper, our lead, is a young girl who has just joined law enforcement as a trainee.  The officers are called dogs and the newbies are called puppies.  Society is still a little off-kilter, with Rogues, or criminals, running most of the lower class areas, and law enforcement accepting codified bribes.  On the plus side, there is no one like Tamora Pierce in terms of world-building.  Her city (or, in the case of this tale, section of a city) is so palpable that you can see every detail of it, hear it, and even smell it, as you are reading.  Her characters are also extremely three dimensional -- complex and specific and real.  Like most human beings, the characters here are conflicted and nothing is black and white.  Beka, although not perfect, is also very likeable, as are her wide assortment of colleagues and friends.  The language reflects the tale, with a different kind of vocabulary and syntax.  This, however, is where I first had problems.  Given that I wasn't able to sit down and "fall into" the story, I had to remind myself, each time I returned to the book, what certain terms and phrases meant (when I got the print copy of the book, I discovered a glossary at the back).  The setting of the novel is also fairly dark.  Sometimes dark is okay, but I just wasn't in the mood.  I also didn't adore the minor love interest.  Too many bad boy crushes these days.  Time for the decent guys to come out on top.  That, however, would not work here, where there is a slight "anti-hero" vibe going on.  My biggest complaint is that the plotlines didn't seem to have the weight or importance of your standard fantasy novel.  This wasn't a "kill the dragon/monster/whatever and save the world" as much as it was a "girl detective solves murder mysteries."  The stakes just weren't high enough for me to want to push through the chapters.  It also wasn't what I expected, and sometimes, even when something is good, you don't like it because of your expectations.  Live and learn.  Next time I read something "for myself" it will be in print form, and I will make sure I really have the time to relish in it.

"The Crossover" by Kwame Alexander

This award-winning verse novel has a grounding in Basketball and Hip Hop.  And it says something that despite the fact that I am not into either Basketball or Hip Hop, I enjoyed it.  Did take me a while to get into it, given the number of references early on that I did not get.  But there is power in this family story -- it is, in the end, a story about family -- which has a universal appeal.  Two twin brothers, Jordan and Josh, are seventh grade b-ball phenoms who fall for their first girl.  As in, they fall for the ~~same~~ girl.  And they fall for her while in the playoffs.  As imagined, this doesn't go well.  Far beyond the sibling rivalry, however, is the story of a father and son, of growing up, and of love despite the odds.  Like most verse novels, there is a tendency to skim the pages.  Don't.  The rhythms and subtleties of the tale could be missed.  Also, take time to "look" at the pages, as some of the work borders on concrete poetry.  It is a story which pulled me in unexpectedly -- sweet and funny and real until an ending comes which I both expected and hoped against hope wouldn't happen.  I was grabbing at the tissues with both hands.  Don't let the basketball/male themes throw you off.  This is truly a book for everyone.

"El Deafo" by Cece Bell

FINALLY got a copy of this uber-popular graphic novel that nearly every student in APS seems to have read this year.  The semi-autobiographical story is that of Cece as a child, when an early illness left her with hearing loss.  The resultant hearing aides (think 1970s) was so big and bulky that it made her feel very self-conscious and isolated.  But that isn't really the point of the tale.  It's a story about growing up and making friends (or not).  Ms. Bell's chapters show a realistic slice of life that all can relate to.  There is the friend who seems nice, but isn't, the friend who bosses you around, the friend who looks down on you -- and putting up with it all because having a friend is better than being lonely, which can feel like a big bubble separating you from the world.  Somehow, the graphic novel format is perfect for this, with Cece's character marching around in a bubble, looking lost.  Interestingly enough, it's more engaging than it is depressing or sad.  The bright colors and slick pages are enticing and help brighten the mood and put the narrative in perspective.  With the characters portrayed as rabbits (kinda, sorta), there is additional universal appeal because the book, while good for mid-ranges (grades 4 to 8) is not clearly defined as a "girl book" or "boy book."  We get it -- growing up isn't nearly as fun as adults think, and the day to day struggles make you want to fantasize about having the power to really make a change in your life -- which you can't.  Brava to Ms. Bell for sharing her struggles with us, including a brutal honesty that even her main character messes up (a lot).  A very worthy and appealing read on multiple levels.  This one deserves the fame.

"The Book With No Pictures" by B.J. Novak

For a book with only words (NO pictures!) this read-aloud left me somewhat wordless.  It is hysterically funny.  One can hear the ridiculousness coming off of every page.  At a recent book event, one parent mentioned that her son (older than one might think for this book) has read it over and over and over.  Very easy to see why.  I was tempted to myself.  Others mentioned hearing their kids laughing out loud while sitting and reading it (yes, I did too).  Don't want to go on and on here -- saying too much would ruin it, but you simply have to check this one out and/or read it aloud to a child.  No matter what your skill level, this will be the best read-aloud you've ever done.  And I dare you not to laugh.

Transcript: Supreme Court Hearings on Gay Marriage Cases

This is proof that reading is reading, no matter what you read.  I took a  break in my regular reading of YA novels to look at the actual arguments before the court on this hot-bed issue.  I find the arguments in these cases to be fascinating, because there is an attempt to look at the law, impartially, in highly emotionally charged topics.  I also like "smart", and these are very, very smart people.  The precedents cited are also interesting.  I studied Lawrence in my school law class, and have a "slightly" personal connection to Loving, as my family moved to Virginia in the 1960s and were shocked at the difference in race relations here, as opposed to their native California.  In any case, it's all very intriguing.  The arguments were strong, but circular, as the Supreme Court justices repeatedly pointed out in their challenges to the lawyers making these cases.  The impact of approving gay marriage is a civil rights issue that would have far-reaching consequences.  Questions remain -- is marriage a religious institution, or a government one?  Is it an institution within the domain of the federal government, or in the purview of the states?  Should civil rights like these be decided by the electorate?  (Here, I have to say no.  If we had waited for the electorate to vote on civil rights for blacks, we would still be waiting.  On a personal level, I think the government sometimes has to step in and protect certain classes rather than wait on societal opinion to catch up.)  No matter what the outcome, the justices clearly want to make "good law."  I think the reason they turned back the Prop 8 case is because it didn't have enough meat to hang a major decision on.  It is clear that when they rule on this in June, they will be careful to be solid in how they write the majority opinion, so that it withstands any future challenges.  And, I'll say it now -- my money is on 6 to 3 for the plaintiffs.

"Greenglass House" by Kate Milford

This one is complex.  So complex that I was surprised 5th graders at a local elementary school selected it as a favorite, but then we tend to constantly underestimate kids and what they can get from the books they read.  This one reads like a magical twist on an Agatha Christie tale.  There are tons of themes -- adoption, mystery, geography, role-playing games, history, ghosts.  This is a story inside a story inside a story, all with an ever-so-slight Steampunk atmosphere.  There is a boy, Milo, who lives in an a smuggler's inn at the top of a hill.  There are unexpected guests in the dead of winter, who bring with them stories of their own and a book with more stories.  There are good guys, bad guys and people with secrets.  Most of all, there is a local legend or two adding to the atmosphere of it all.  Did I like the book?  I did.  I wish I had been able to curl up with it and read it through, since my stop and start routine did not lend itself to an appreciation of the many twists and turns.  I did find it a challenging read.  The prose was not eloquent, and I guessed at a huge reveal very (very) early in the tale, which may have taken away some of the punch at the climax.  On a personal level, I felt some of the many threads were left unexplained, and, like mysteries of old, there are false clues that lead nowhere.   Nonetheless, Ms. Milford has created a rich, layered world here, and it is easy to see how a reader would "fall into it" and the variety of characters she has invented.  Students voted this as a favorite pick, so I say to "check it out."

"Ophelia and the Marvelous Boy" by Karen Foxlee

There have been a host of books lately, "Splendors and Glooms", "The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland in a Ship of Her Own Making", "Tangle of Knots" etc., which have a kind of classic children's book charm.  Written in solid, accessible, but engaging prose, "Ophelia and the Marvelous Boy" joins those novels that seem eternal.  This was written in 2014, but could have been written in 1950, or 2120, as the appeal is fairly universal.  Using a bit of magical realism in a "different" take on the Snow Queen tale, this is both a very simple story, and a sophisticated one.  Ophelia is dealing with the loss of her mother, her disaffected father, a distant teen sister and a trip to a "foreign" city, along with a mysterious museum, where the contents change from hour to hour.  She meets the Marvelous Boy but does not believe his story.  Ophelia is a girl of Science, of groundedness, but the aching hole in her wants to reach out and believe in something greater.  The adventure begins. 

One interesting note is that I had a kind of Narnia flashback at one point with some subtle Christian symbolism, but by and large, readers are not likely to see it unless they are looking for it.  On the whole, I greatly enjoyed this book.  There is a kind of "otherworldlyness" that comes out.  Foxlee joins a glittering host of authors from Australia gracing U.S. bookshelves these days.  Like Craig Silvey, Markus Zusak, Melina Marchetta, Jaclyn Moriarty and more, there is a difference here.  The world Foxlee creates has an ethereal quality, a small sense of the unfamiliar.  Most of the short chapters begin with an amusing summary, as in "In which Ophelia Jane Worthington-Whittard discovers a boy in a locked room and is consequently asked to save the world."  The subtle, tongue-in-cheek humor runs throughout and makes an engaging book even that more delightful.  This isn't just a page-turner, it's one you will stay up to finish.  The end comes abruptly, after significant build-up, and I'm still deciding if I liked it.  On one hand, things wrapped up so quickly, I was left with a moment of tears, but on the other hand -- do you really want to wax on when everything is said and done?  Perhaps this is not a book that needs a lengthy denouement.  This is one case where the author seems to say exactly what she needed to.

"The Next America" by Paul Taylor and the Pew Research Center

OMG, I loved this book.  But then, I like numbers, and not everyone does.  For the non-data nerd, there is still a lot of interest here.  For one thing, the writing.  Paul Taylor's strong, often amusing, writing style (there were times when I guffawed, outright) is entertaining, engaging, and challenging from the get-go.  This one looks at the four living generations (The Silents, Boomers, Gen-X and Millennials) in a personal, realistic way and uses data to say who they are, where they are, where they are going, and what conflicts or challenges are in their paths.  While the tone is light, in general, the end-point, the future of Social Security, is deeply serious.  Mr. Taylor makes clear that Social Security is simply not going exist if left unchanged, and it is likely to be left unchanged because no one willing to fix it can get elected.  Some of it may challenge assumptions, such as the chapters on immigration and religion.  Some of it is thought provoking, such as the chapter on race, and why we continue to insist on racial qualifiers in a society that is quickly moving beyond any of the descriptors we use.  Absolutely no stone is left unturned.  Time is given to explain the paradoxical responses people make in surveys, showing how question-phrasing has a huge role in outcome; Taylor even takes time to talk about what a "generation" is, where the idea came from, and leaves us with the intriguing idea that this, too, is an artificial construct.  Given that I don't quite fit "my" generation, I appreciated his honesty and forthrightness in addressing many of the questions that people like me (who squeaked out slightly between the booms) seem to face.  Maybe not everyone will enjoy this chart-heavy book, but it is information collected by the Pew Research Center, and you kind of got to love a group that is always investigating the often wide gap between our behaviors and our beliefs.  In the end, it is the "story of us" and who doesn't like to read about themselves?

"Driven by Data: A Practical Guide to Improve Instruction" by Paul Bambrick-Santoyo

For a book of this type, this one is fairly good.  By "this type" I mean a textbook format one might come across in a university-level education course.  It is very readable, has a streamlined, linear approach I like, and didn't get too repetitive.  For those who mentally wander when reading these kinds of things (I do), there are nice summary boxes to reinforce concepts at the end of each section.  The chapters are short, blissfully light on edu-speak, and have a lot of real-world examples to drive home the point.  The point, for the record, is fairly simple.  Schools can dramatically improve performance by following three simple steps and one slightly challenging step:  1) Employ rigorous interim assessments, 2) Analyze the assessments quickly and thoroughly, 3) Take action and re-teach, 4) Create a culture where this is commonplace.  Guess which one is slightly challenging?  (and that's an understatement).  It is no surprise that my favorite chapter in the book was the one on culture.  In my nearly three decades on the job, I have learned that nothing, absolutely no initiative or goal, trumps culture. 

What I also liked about this book was that it didn't shy away from failure, highlighting the widespread reasons why initiatives like this fail.  The results are impressive.  They take a number of 90/90/90 schools (90% minority, 90% free and reduced lunch and 90% fail rates) and turn them around using this method.  Personally, I can see how it would work.  The challenge is that your school would have to do this, and this alone.  No other initiatives, no other goals, just this.  Not likely in systems that pride themselves on multi-goal programming and have diverse populations that don't fit into the 90/90/90 model.  Which brings another question.  This method was highly successful at specific schools -- most of which seem to be charter schools, independent schools, academies.  Would it work for an entire school system?  A fully public school with open enrollment?  Unclear.  Could we, in our state, de-emphasize the annual high-stakes testing to focus almost entirely on formative assessments?  Unlikely.  Nonetheless, I liked the message of this book, and got a number of good take-aways.  See this as a good option for those willing to be brave.

"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.