“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.

"Super Human" by Michael Carroll

With an off-putting cover, this one hasn't moved much.  A determined student, however, was persistent in his efforts to get me to read it.  I'm so glad he did.  This is the first of three books to focus on a new crop of super heroes.  Much like those in the DC and Marvel universes, the characters in this book read minds, fly, throw fire and do any number of very cool things.  The entire story takes place over a day and a half (with some Ancient World excerpts) -- switching back and forth between four main characters, all teens.  Hugely action-packed, there is a page-turning quotient, in that you hardly get a breath between one battle and the next.  If asked, I would say this isn't my kind of thing but Carroll manages to weave a real mystery around the events and describes each fight very specifically and somewhat uniquely.  He makes sure that each character fights (or doesn't) in ways that match that person's skills ~and~ personality.  There isn't a whole lot besides action but the characters come off as real and well-rounded, and Carroll does manage to insert some very accurate Science into the whole thing.  The author also gets two thumbs up for making half of his "cast" African American and for giving the female characters some major ***-kicking skills.  My favorite character is Lance, a bad-boy-in-training that you just have to like.  I'll admit -- it's not "literary" in any sense of the word but it is very well written for what it is -- both accessible and engaging.  There are also "quite a number" of hints dropped at the end which will likely pay off in the next installment.  The copy I had contained the first chapter of the next book, a trend publishers are engaging in which is meant to tease the readers.  It works.  Fans of The Tomorrow People, The Avengers, Marvel's Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. and even Star Trek will find this an entertaining romp. 

"Scarlet" by Marissa Meyer

Sadly, I kind of bashed the first book in this series since I didn't realize it *was* a series and I was surprised and felt unsatisfied by the ending.  Now that I do know it is a series (of four books) and have read the second, many of my fears have been  qualmed.  The writing really is excellent.  Meyer has that "page-turning" quotient I love and creates characters that are complex and amazingly real for a Sci Fi Fairytale set hundreds of years in the future.  Meyer's greatest skill, however, is in world-building.  Important for any book, but particularly in Sci Fi, Marissa Meyer's Earth-of-the-future is believable and palpable.  Having met her recently, I get it -- she paints scenes like a filmmaker and it helps the reader to "see" the tale unfolding in front of them. 

I stand by my review of "Cinder,"(Dec 4th, 2012) the first book in the series -- in the sense that Marissa Meyer is a tremendously strong writer who weaves fairytales into SciFi like a master.  It's just that I now appreciate these books as part of a much larger epic.

SPOILER ALERT

For those who read "Cinder" and felt, as I did, that it was a story unfinished -- well, it is.  But Cinder, a character I came to love, doesn't disappear in this second book and new characters weave into the tale so seamlessly that it all makes very deep sense (many, many teasers are in the first book ... a great many of them play out here).  Prince Kai isn't the complete ****-wad I imagined him to be when Cinder ended, and I now look forward to "Cress" and "Winter" -- although "Winter," the last book in the series, isn't due out until next year. 

Keep up the good work, Marissa ... but the publishers should make it clear when something is part of a series ... yes?

“Heaven is Paved With Oreos” by Catherine Gilbert Murdock

I wanted to like this book -- I did.  I had heard good things about Murdock’s writing and liked the premise … a girl is surprised by a summer trip to Rome with her wild and crazy Grandma.  Unfortunately, the book kept stumbling on me.  First and foremost, there is the main character, Sarah, who is supposed to be 14 but comes off as much, much younger.  The overwhelming innocence might play if this was 1970, and the girl was a very sheltered 12, but it just seems unrealistic that any 14 year-old (at least the ones I deal with on a day-to-day basis) would be this clueless.  Not to mention, she’s a fan of Oreos but has never heard of “Cookies and Cream” ice cream?  Maybe I’m just too much of a city girl.  So, that was issue #1.  The second tripping point for me was the Rome section.  It read like an encyclopedic travelogue.  I bought the part about pizza being “ucky” (cuz it has a fried egg in the middle) but the church descriptions sounded like they were lifted from “boring European History 101.”  Then, there is this “blank” that occurs near the end of the Rome trip.  It’s left oblique – Sarah is “too stressed” to even think about it, so we, as the readers, are left out of important knowledge.  When the big reveal happens at home afterwards it feels anticlimactic … not only was I not surprised, but the great mystery wasn’t really a big deal.  The ending … overly sweet and hugely predictable, held no “release” for me as a reader because it didn’t feel like something large had really happened in the book.  Told in diary form, the entire thing felt dated and had little page-turning appeal.  Murdock clearly wanted this to be a contemporary setting, but I can’t help feel that this is yet another semi-autobiographical tale dressed up as fiction.  Some, like Meg Medina, pulled that off well.  Others, like Jack Gantos and, apparently, Catherine Murdock, not so much.  While the characters had some potential the plot didn’t help them be that interesting.  This one is kind of a companion novel to the “Dairy Queen Trilogy” which includes some of the adjacent characters, but I can’t say, at this point, that I’m hot to read them.  Next, please.

“Eleanor & Park” by Rainbow Rowell

Park:  a run-of-the-mill kid.  Not popular, not a loser, just a guy trying to maintain a low profile amidst the vicious cliques in his Midwest high school.  Eleanor:  Eleanor’s got issues.  A messed-up home life and significant bullying at her new school are playing havoc with her sense of self.  The simple act of trying to find a seat on the school bus (which, most teens know, is a major thing) results in these two 16 year-olds being thrown together.  They don’t like each other, then they like each other, then they move beyond like.  It is a love story, but not a mushy, drippy “I luuuuvvv yoooou” story.  Told in alternating voices, Park tries to navigate girls (which is not easy for any 16 year-old boy) and Eleanor tries to move past the emotional damage her family has done to her.  She’s hard, she’s angry, she’s defensive and she doesn’t trust.  Breaking down the walls she has built to protect herself takes the length of the novel, plus some.  Ms. Rowell does some really neat things from a literary perspective to bring the two together.  At first, their voice are separated by chapter breaks, then pages, then paragraphs.  Eventually, their opening thoughts mirror each other.  It’s like watching a poem of people being built in front of your eyes.  Rowell also gets credit for making the adults fairly complex – the Guidance Director at school “gets it” within her limited capacity to make a difference, the parents aren’t universally absent or one-note.  They are all given pasts that color their present, so that the reader can see the elements in who they become.  Park’s parents, in particular, are so layered that when push comes to shove, their reactions are more human and less predictable than you might think.  I also like the setting (1986 to 1987) – maybe it’s cuz I’m old, but there is something endearing about a tale that takes place before cellphones, computers, and all the many ways we distract ourselves today.  Park and Eleanor connect over a Walkman – would they still connect today if it were an iPod?  Hard to know.  It’s not all fiction, however.  Rainbow Rowell (whose picture looks a whole lot like a grown-up version of Eleanor) makes it clear in the acknowledgements that this is her story.  Maybe it is the truth of it that spoke to me, but “endearing” is a word that is tremendously apropos here.  Yes, the very last sentence had me reaching for a tissue – but don’t think you know how it will end.  Mature, interesting, insightful – and deserving of the Printz Honor it received this year.

"Yaqui Delgado Wants to Kick Your Ass" by Meg Medina

This year's Pura Belpre winner is a strong but disturbing tale of school bullying.  Piedad Sanchez, aka "Piddy," has problems.  Her best friend has moved out to the suburbs and she finds herself in a brand new school in Brooklyn at the beginning of her tenth grade year.  Without warning, she is told that "Yaqui Delgado," another student she doesn't even know, is out to get her.  Things go from bad to worse as Piddy tries to navigate this violent, inner-city school and accept the changes happening in her life as she grows up.  It's a dark tale, but not a hopeless one.  Piddy has a good group of people around her, people who help her to find herself ... but not until she has sunk very low.  Ms. Medina gets a thumbs up here for making all of the characters rich and complex.  Piddy is a fifteen year-old who is very real ... moody, mercurial, longing and lost.  It was a book I plowed through, because I simply had to see if things turn out okay.  Not surprisingly, the author's end notes indicate that this is based on her own experiences with a high school bully.  A powerful story, well-told, which is infused with the Latin culture of NYC, it makes for a great book which will capture readers after they pick it up for the provocative title (yes, this book has been "picked up" more than any display book I've ever put out ...). Worthy without being preachy, it is definitely deserving of the Award.  Brava, Meg Medina.

“Sex & Violence: A Novel” by Carrie Mesrobian

WARNING – graphic content and spoilers …

An Honor book in this year's Morris Awards (first-time author of a YA novel), I knew this one was likely to garner some controversy, not only for title but for subject matter.  Always working to be ahead of the curve, I decided to read it so that I could answer any questions, should they arise. 

 

Evan Carter is a teen with both mommy and daddy issues who gets out his many frustrations by having a lot of casual sex with girls as he moves from one boarding school to another.  Real or not, Evan embodies the quintessential stereotype of a teenage boy by spending the better part of his waking hours considering how to “get the girl.”  By the end of the first chapter, however, Evan encounters something new – a massive beat-down for sleeping with the wrong girl.  Evan may have been raped – it's certainly intimated, heavily, throughout the rest of the book, but never acknowledged.  Evan's perpetually absent father takes him to their family home, sitting abandoned on a lakeside in Minnesota, so that the young man can heal.  He spends the summer trying to connect to local teens and smoking copious amounts of marijuana.  Try as I might, I didn't love the book.  There are commendable parts, but a lot to criticize.  Evan's use of the “f-word” (on almost every page) and the constant drug use seemed over-the-top.  While it may be realistic in the teen world, I didn't see it as a necessary element of the story.  A lot is left out, or is vague.  The girl Evan hooked up with is also attacked – the most said is that she “got it from two guys at the same time and may not be able to have kids.”  I'm pretty sure that's physiological impossible.  And the story feels unfinished.  If the point of the book is Evan's healing, then it is successful, but that isn't the whole story.  There is repeated mention of the upcoming trial for Evan's attackers but the tale ends before we get there.  One wonders at Evan's significant memory loss – if he is forced to relive the event at court, would he have to address issues which have been buried?  In a book with strong language and frequent sexual misadventures, it seems like being coy about the heart of Evan's assault is unnatural propriety.  On the other hand, this isn't an ABC Afterschool Special.  Mesrobian gets a thumbs-up for making these characters and their relationships complex.  Evan and his father try, and stumble, and try and stumble again as they work to build lines of communication.  And Evan's potty-mouth and constant toking may seem too much to me, but might be right on the nose for the average teen reader.  There is even a question as to whether Evan has learned his lesson.  Near the end of the book he finds himself back in a situation almost identical to where he was in the beginning.  The difference here is not so much Evan's mindset but the fact that he has learned how to make friends.      The best part of the book, IMHO, are Evan's letters to “Collette” – a therapist encouraged practice to examine his feelings and behaviors in a safe way.  They end each chapter and provide most of the insight on Evan's real internal journey.  Props, also, to Carolrhoda books, who created subtle imprints at the beginning and end of each chapter of splashing water and bathroom tile.  The tile, in particular, is very creepy as it evokes a sense of prison bars, making real the sense Evan has of being “trapped” by the demons created in this attack.  It's a book I think teenagers will like as the voices feel authentic … but I'm not sure it has the “merit” necessary to defend it should there be critics who feel it is “too much.”

 

“Flora & Ulysses: The Illuminating Adventures” by Kate DiCamillo, Illustrated by K.G. Campbell

Kate DiCamillo does it again with this year's Newbery Award Winner.  “Flora & Ulysses” is delightful, laugh-out-loud funny, smart, snarky and definitely different.  Flora Belle Buckman is a cynic.  She is also a fan of “Illustrated Adventures” (much to her mother's frustration) and one of those “too wise for her very young years” kids who uses over-the-top vocabulary and yet remains somewhat innocent about the world.  Like Shirley Temple's many roles, this little girl is seemingly wiser than many of the adults around her.  Flora is the child of divorce and discovers a very unusual friend in the opening pages of this adventure. With lots of details that enrich the personalities we encounter, the book is mostly prose but includes selected panel art at some of the more heightened moments. The thing about DiCamillo's work is that it has an edge.  Much like Roald Dahl, her writing can be enjoyed by the very young but has a darker tone that older readers will get.  It is this darker tone that can be disturbing but gives a certain weight to the characters, a weight not typical in a seemingly simple kid's book.  DiCamillo also gets snaps for making Flora a fairly complex character.  She's tomboyish in her looks and dress but doesn't fit into any particular box.  With threads of mystery and romance weaving throughout the tale, it should have broad appeal for many readers.  The story is successfully brought to a conclusion but not in a tight little bow.  Think “homemade sweater” to get a feel for how these plotlines come together.  It's an animal book that will please fans of all sorts of critters and it's a superhero book with a unique hero.  Brava, Ms. DiCamillo.

“Midwinterblood” by Marcus Sedgwick

This year’s Printz winner is a short little read with deep and complex themes.  Seven related stories, told over centuries, in short chapters, makes for a fast-paced, mind-blowing tale.  Beginning in the near-future, reporter Eric Seven arrives at “Blest Island,” presumably somewhere in the Scandinavian region, to report on the rumored longevity of the island’s residents.  As any reader of Sci Fi/Fantasy will tell you, this has the portents of “bad things.”  “Bad things” do indeed happen.  We then begin a journey backwards in time – meeting various incarnations of trapped spirits as they travel through an archeologist, a painter, a mother, a child, and more.  Symbolism abounds – in the various full moons, the hare that presents itself in each tale and in the blood which reigns throughout.  Viking lore heavily plays here but the threads are universal – love and loss, belonging and isolation, and, of course, sacrifice – in all of its meanings.  Sedgwick, an award-winning British author, doesn’t mind sacrificing the “rules,” either.  Sometimes the souls overlap each other, and one tale takes the fantastical far further than any of the others.  But you don’t mind.  As a writer, Sedgwick is demanding, almost as if the reader simply must bend to his will.  He also gets kudos for writing a Young Adult book that doesn’t feature angsty teens.  Characters here range from young to old, male to female, and nothing in the novel screams “adolescent.”  No matter how much you may know (or guess) what is coming, the book is still a surprise and open interpretations are welcome – even for the novel as a whole.  For instance, the story is circular … or is it???  Sedgwick doesn’t confine himself to traditional romance, either, as the love interests morph from the passionate to the parental.  He seems to say that love and his other themes are present in all of us, no matter how they evidence themselves.  Even the element of story is important – the idea that storytelling is an essential part of who we are – so essential that it is a key in what makes us human.  By all means, pick up this creepy, slightly disturbing book and enjoy.  Another big brava/bravo to the Printz committee.  Much like “Going Bovine” this one is a winner.

“A Corner of White” by Jaclyn Moriarty

It’s funny how things work out.  First, I read a book by a UK author that seems to have been “Americanized” (much to my dislike) and the next book I pick up is written by an Australian, set in Cambridge, and about as British as it gets.  “A Corner of White” was completely delightful.  Always great to read a book that makes you really want to pick it up and see what happens next.  Like many of the Australian works gracing YA shelves today, this book was challenging, unexpected, clever, rich, literary and very “fresh.”  I don’t know what it is about the “down under” crowd, but they have a gift at coming up with tales that seem totally new.  In this complex novel, there are two stories.  One is that of Madeleine, a girl thoroughly of the modern world.  Dealing with family issues and a drastically changed life, she sludges through the “grey” of Cambridge, missing her iPad, doing internet research for her homeschooling and struggling with the vagaries of teenage friendships.  In the parallel story there is Elliot Baranski, a citizen of the Kingdom of Cello, trying to solve the mystery of his father’s disappearance and help an ailing town pick itself up.  Cello is an interesting place – having both cars and dragons (supposedly).  Madeleine and Elliot are both a bit lost, desperately needing answers to questions and both seeking something they are unsure of.  Inexplicably, their worlds mesh.  It isn’t about worlds colliding, though – but kind of “bumping up against one another.”  Their interaction, like much of the tale, is gentle and subtle.  The voices of both characters are grippingly real.  You find yourself envisioning them as friends or colleagues.  The story paces and builds well, creating that critical page-turning quotient, but I had to force myself to slow down frequently to get all the little details.  “Deep” doesn’t begin to describe a book with so many threads that you may find yourself flipping back from chapter to chapter in order to be clear on how they connect.  History and Science also weave into the tale in unexpected and wonderful ways.  The first in a trilogy, this novel can stand on its own and has a satisfying resolution, but the next book should be fabulous if it measures up to this one.  My only two beefs (very minor) are the cover art (don’t I always complain about this??), which makes it look like a romance; and the ages of Madeleine and her friends.  They are supposedly 15, but read younger … which is highly unusual for a teen book (typically, it’s the reverse).  They aren’t out of bounds, though.  Fifteen is such a strange age … no longer kids but not quite as savvy as older teens.  It’s an age when parents think you are “grown up enough” to hear some truths, even though hearing them makes one want to curl up with a blankie.  It’s a betwixt and between age, which, I’m guessing, is what the author was going for.  A very satisfying read and one which definitely sated the palate.  Brava.

“Samphire Song” by Jill Hucklesby

For once, the cover art is to-the-point on the nature of the book.  This is a novel about a teenage girl and a horse.  Like all books with this theme, it has a girl with some personal issues sinking herself into the world of equines and finding solace there.  The writing is good – lyrical even, if you find the shining of tack and the green grass of a paddock lyrical.  I did like the emotional tone in terms of caring for a difficult, abused animal, having been there myself.  I also liked that the family structure is pretty solid.  Mom and brother are both loving, fun and supportive.  Jodie (our protagonist) is a nice young woman whose only real world is spent with her family or in the stables.  The 16 year-old’s school life barely factors in.  The novel is “okay” without being brilliant.  It’s not a bad book – it pulls at all of your heartstrings as expected -- it’s just hugely predictable and the story structure pretty basic.  The tale doesn’t flow so much as it stops and starts with each chapter.  There were absolutely no surprises, including the pre-requisite horse-race which seemed superfluous to the storyline by the time it finally happened.  I was slightly perplexed by the lack of British-isms, however.  Clearly set in England, the book appears to have been “revised” for American audiences … changing out dollars for pounds, states for districts, etc.  In some ways, this added to the general blandness of this novel by making the setting and character dialogue ambiguous.  In the end, those who love a good horse story will *love* this tale (or is that “tail”?)

"Life After Life" by Kate Atkinson

I read this one because several colleagues remarked that this was "one of their favorite books this year."  It also has outstanding reviews, with many comparing it to "Code Name Verity."  Like many experiences these past few weeks, however, the book was sadly a disappointment.  It's not ~that~ bad, just not “fab,” as I had expected.  The issue may be more about my tastes than the novel itself, but it was not a joy to read.  It is literary with a capital "L.”  Just in case you don’t get the deep meanings and symbolism, nearly every page has a literary or philosophical quote to reinforce the narrative.  You'll find everyone from Shakespeare to Nietzsche here.  The premise is fascinating -- if you could go back in time and repeat your personal history over and over, would you be able to "get it right?"  The problem, in my mind, is the execution.  Among other things, this is a very, very "British" tale.  What does that mean?  It's dry, emotionally muted and Dickensian in description.  It doesn't race, it meanders.  Every random thought is explored, every character’s full history delved into, regardless of the role they play in the tale.  Despite the tremendous stakes (the book begins with an intriguing page in which our heroine, Ursula, points a gun at a young Hitler) little seems to actually happen.  After the brief intro we have some 500 pages with Ursula living and re-living her young life focusing on her quaint country home with foxes, rabbits, tea, roast beef and a great number of puddings.  She dies a few times, is reborn a few times, there are more tales of foxes and rabbits and tea and then she finally starts growing up.  Eventually, there is a good deal of sex ... rape, extramarital affairs, unwanted pregnancies, all related as bloodlessly as everything else, given no more weight or tone than the digging through of rubble and bodies after the London Blitz.  Ursula doesn't feel great passion other than having overwhelming déjà vu, she has little motivation until the end and when the whole thing wraps up it is more with a fizzle than a bang.  I would have put the book down ... I tried, but kept hoping that all the "threads" would come together with some sort of great meaning.  I was left scratching my head, instead, wondering why so many inconsequential plotlines were included -- many of which for no seeming purpose whatsoever.  I thought back to the people who had loved this book so much.  A few things are likely:  a) they are most likely faster readers than me, b) they may enjoy books that meander, rather than careen c) they probably have not read nearly as much Science Fiction as I have.  That last point is important, because it means I have something to compare it to.  Time travel is heavily used in the genre.  Issues of ethics and our role in the greater picture are constantly explored.  In other words, I've seen it done better.  This ain't "Code Name Verity" and for me, anyway, it was a dud.  Patient readers, enjoy.  I'm off to find something a tad more lively.

"far far away" by Tom McNeal

With a lot of chat in professional library circles, this TAB title reminded me of recent reads "Splendor and Glooms" and "A Tangle of Knots."  It isn't a little kids book but there is an innocence to the characters and a level of class and gently literary writing that elevates it beyond much of the current YA fare.  Clever, soft, funny and touching, it is the story of "a girl, a boy and a ghost" in a semi-mythical 1970s era Texas town, called "Never Better."  Much of the tone of the tale comes from the ghost, an omnipresent narrator who draws heavily on the stories and lives of the Brothers Grimm.  It is a great book with eponymously named characters, laughs, a dash of romance, serious undertones, a mystery or two and a villain that you either do or don't see coming (yeah, I did, but it didn't ruin the novel one bit for me).  It was something I looked forward to reading -- a smart page-turner with a very satisfying ending that left me grabbing for a tissue and feeling slightly verklempt.  It's got darkness ... this is, after all, in the style of Grimm ... but there is  beauty, too.  In all, utterly satisfying.  If I can get kids past the "blah" cover, I suspect we will have a winner.