“Between the Lines” by Jodi Picoult and Samantha Van Leer

A very “different” kind of book by Jodi Picoult, as she explains in a lengthy note at the opening of the novel (I shouldn't be surprised, she did a great job with "Wonder Woman" as described in an earlier review.  Definitely an author that likes to stretch herself out of the box now and then).  This one is a fairytale, inspired by and written with her high school aged daughter, “Sammy.”  Stories within stories, it is clever and creative with capital “Cs.”  Oliver is a prince in a fairytale who is bored with doing the same thing over and over … he wants out.  Delilah is a teenage girl who craves something more.  Until the day that she realizes the characters in the book are alive.  What follows is a strongly-woven fable that cycles between the actual fairytale and the perspectives of Oliver and Delilah.  Crazy “rules” are created in these blended universes, but Picoult and her daughter remain absolutely committed to the strictures they invent.  The characters in all three storylines are smart and their occasional drifting into over-the-top romanticism can be excused as they don’t linger in the place of sighing, lingering looks (it is a fairytale, after all).  The book isn’t just an enjoyable read, it is pretty to look at.  The fairytale drawings are detailed and rich in color, crosshatched for depth.  Ironically, the non-fairytale sections have two dimensional black cut-outs – which are nonetheless intriguing.  It makes you think about reality when the fairytale images are more fully realized than the real-world images, but questioning reality is a major theme here.  Delilah’s sections are written in a clean, green, non-serif font, while Oliver’s voice is portrayed in a more traditional “Times New Roman” font, in a subtle indigo hue.  Everything about this book is that carefully chosen … the images, the layout, the words.  It is a fun read but also exquisitely executed.  Brava.

"Every Day" by David Levithan

It is easy to see why this book is already getting serious buzz coming into awards season, and why it is rising fast on the New York Times bestseller list.  David Levithan is a guy with gifts.  He not only is a terrific writer, but it turns out he also works as an editor for Scholastic -- teaming with some of the top YA authors out there today.  His efforts come together in a novel that simply does not have flaws ... and is the most unique story I've ever read.  A sixteen year-old named "A" does not have a body, but flows from person to person each day.  The perspectives and experiences of "A" challenge the reader to redefine our preconceptions about, well, everything.  What does it mean to not have tomorrow?  What would happen if we were to see out of the eyes of others?  Who are we if we are not defined by our physicality and gender?  What is personhood?  This is one of those "eating" books that you simply must savor, and may want to read and re-read.  A classic in the making, it is a novel with tremendous literary merit that is also extremely accessible.  This, too, is one of Mr. Levithan's gifts; the ability to create characters you connect to, even when the characters are seemingly inaccessible.

SPOILER ALERT

Readers of this blog will know that I'm not always a fan of the open ending, but the truth is, I don't mind open endings when that is where the story builds to.  In "The Giver" for instance, the ending fits.  That is also the case here, although Levithan's fans clearly want more.  At the National Book Festival the author was asked about a sequel to this book.  He responded that he might consider writing a type of companion novel, about one of the people "A" inhabits, but that a sequel was not likely.  If nothing else, the end will make the world of fanfic writers happy, although I'm pretty sure none could match the richness of this tale.

Hands-down a "best book" -- get it now.  Seriously, stop reading this, turn off your computer, go out to your local library, and find a copy.  And enjoy.  And think.  And enjoy.

“Cinder” by Marissa Meyer

Another brilliant book ruined by a bad ending.  More on that in a moment.  Let’s talk about the brilliance first.  This is Cinderella (and you should know, I love me some Cinderella).  Except … Cinderella is a cyborg living in a plague-ridden future Earth.  World War IV has come and gone and the five remaining governments of the world struggle with increasing tensions between them and the Queen of the lunar colonies … someone so calculating, manipulative and dangerous she makes Richard III look like a puppy dog.  Cinder works as a mechanic in an open-air Asian marketplace.  Ms. Meyer does a phenomenal job of subtly weaving in all elements of the original fairy-tale … in remarkably clever ways at times.  It is a fresh, re-imagined story, but one with echoes of familiarity.  The world Meyer creates is detailed, specific and real and she is strikingly consistent on every element she brings into it (always a pet peeve with me and Sci Fi authors who make up stuff as they go along).  A page turner, I couldn’t wait to pick this one up and read the next chapter.  I also deeply enjoyed the romance element – painted with a soft and engaging brush.  I truly was “wowed” by this book.  Until the end. 

SPOILER ALERT

Clearly, this is planned to be a series, which I didn’t know when I picked it up.  The thing is, it doesn’t need to be.  Ms. Meyer exceeded all expectations in creating this tale and shouldn’t have left us dangling at the end to begin a whole other story about a whole other character (“Scarlet” is the as-yet-unpublished 2nd book in the series about a different girl in the same world who dresses in a red cloak).  Meyer included every element of the original fairytale, wove a believable and endearing love story … then walks away (in this case, the character, literally) right where the pay-off should have been.  As much as I like the book, I don’t see myself plowing through yet another endless YA series to get what should have been here in the first book – a complete story.  It’s ironic that someone like myself, who is generally not a fan of romance, is so very into the “true love” as portrayed in fairy tales.  I really want the prince to get his girl … isn’t that the whole point of these things? 

Anyway.  It’s a fantastic read.  And if you don’t mind the cliff-hanger ending and waiting for the next (??? how many???) books to be published for resolution, go ahead.   One side note of interest to me, personally, is how our inherent racial biases play into our perception of people in books.  Although the physical details of the characters aren’t tremendously specific, it is clear they are not Caucasian, as I am.  It was fascinating to me how many times I had to mentally adjust the images of the characters in my head, working to steer away from that euro-centric Disney princess one tends to default to.  Props, again, to Ms. Meyer for expanding the familiar into new territory.  If only she had wrapped things up a tad more.

“Trapped” by Michael Northrop

I don’t know what it is lately, but for the last year or so I have been picking up books to read which have tremendous similarities to the book I just finished.  Such was the case with “Gone” and “Trapped.”  Both feature young people suddenly bereft of adults as they sit in school.  Both feature significant disasters which put the kids in great peril, and both feature male protagonists that are “regular guys.”  “Trapped” is the story of six young people caught inside of their high school during a massive blizzard.  The book is told from the perspective of Sophomore Scotty Weems, a 2^nd string basketball kid who lives on the edge of cool, but isn’t a geek, either.  Scotty’s voice is realistic (almost too much so, with a focus on gross guy humor and girl fixations) and in many ways, that is what carries the story.  Amidst extraordinary circumstances, you can buy into Scotty being a well-rounded, “real” teen … avoiding the seriousness of the situation, and occasionally obsessed with a growing zit on his face.  The near-fatal circumstances help push the short book forward, as I was turning from page to page to see if the end result would be as dire as I predicted.  The characterization and pacing were two big plusses but the book stumbles from what is, presumably, “young author syndrome.”  I define this as a need to overdrive the events of the novel to make the tale spin out as planned.  Note:  some of the best stories don’t go where you expect them to.  “Willing suspension of disbelief” aside, I had to just keep plowing forward when things happened too conveniently or too unrealistically.  Why am I able to accept the supernatural in “Gone” and not take it here?  Because “Gone” is in the Sci-fi/Fantasy genre.  This one purports to be realistic fiction … the reader just has to put “realistic” into lowercase and capitalize the “Fiction” part.  Examples of frustrations include major plot points that are given away very early on and others that simply don’t ever pay off.  In one of the opening chapters, Scotty says “that’s when we started keeping secrets” but it never really leads to anything.  There are no major secrets kept.  Also, in the theme of a bus-driver’s holiday, I struggle with the idea of educators leaving students alone in a school during a major weather event.  Sorry, folks, this would never, never, never happen.  Anyway.  Most students tell me they really like the book, except for the end.  I get it.  First, the climax is too manufactured.  A girl gets upset about … well, I’m still not sure.  It is never explained.  But the author needed there to be a blow-up to create a reason for another character to make a dangerous choice, so there is this big non-event event.  Second, and perhaps more irritating, is that Mr. Northrop does not seem to know the meaning of “denouement” (falling action after the climax).  There is this terrific rush in the last couple of chapters, which ends with “the ending” but no follow-up.  Questions of survival are never fully answered.  No offense, this isn’t “The Giver” and few authors can get away with a relatively open ending like that.  Lastly, Scotty waxing poetic after 200+ pages of talking like a 10^th grader might be chalked up to hypothermia, but it doesn’t ring as true as his earlier ramblings.  All-in-all, a decent book.  Kind of like a week-day dinner – perfunctory more than deliciously satisfying.  On the other hand, we meet the author in a few weeks … so I may have to eat my words …

“Gone” by Michael Grant

Wow.  Plain-out Wow.  “Gone” is the first in a multi-book series about another dystopian universe where teens face brutal realities … but it is really really good.  The best I have read in a bit.  Saw Michael Grant at the National Book Festival, where the apparently stoned organizers decided to put him in the Children’s tent instead of the Teen tent.  He wasn’t five minutes in before parents were grabbing little ones by the wrist and dragging them out.  I laughed myself silly.  An exuberant, engaging speaker, Mr. Grant held nothing back and was true to the gritty nature of his writing.  “Gone” is the story of an ordinary day – which turns quickly “un-ordinary” when all of the adults in the town of Perdido Beach disappear in an instant.  And that’s in the first paragraph.  What follows is a twisting, turning, gut-wrenching series of events and adventures that not only left me ripping through a very large book very quickly, but left me nearly gasping to see “what happens next.”  Science and/or Science Fiction blends with strong religious overtones to make this a tale where the story wraps itself into directions you never see coming.  The characters are diverse and real, with none of them one-dimensional.  The good guy questions himself, the savior of the littlest kids struggles with an eating disorder, the best friend is never clear on where his loyalties lie and the bad guys … well, they are all unique.  A warning – the violence is visceral and this makes the novel (and Mr. Grant’s presentation at the Book Festival?) a “bit much” for more sensitive readers.  Almost every reviewer mentions the similarity here with “Lord of the Flies.”  The survivalist theme amidst competing human struggles for power can’t be denied, but there is such a freshness to this book that it feels like it is happening as you read it.  The teens sound like the kids I interact with every day and jump off the page as someone you seem to know.  Point-of-view careens from one character to another, with a wide spectrum of people coming together in such an achingly slow pace that it sometimes feels like watching a daytime drama.  What will happen to Lana and the hyenas?  Is Caine’s evil plan going to work?  Will Sam return from the power plant in time?  Read the next chapter to find out … or the next …

Spoiler Alert

Yes, it was so good, I want to read the rest.  But on the other hand … this book doesn’t end badly, and Grant alluded to the conclusion of the series in his presentation, indicating that “a lot” of the major characters die.  Don’t think I can take it.  Barely got through this one.  We’ll see if I plow on.

"Wicked Lovely" by Melissa Marr

For someone who loves fantasy, I have yet to read a fairy book I like much.  This was my third attempt.  "Good Fairies of New York" was just gross and another one I read a while back wasn't bad but I don't remember the title so, clearly, it wasn't striking.  I have been curious about Melissa Marr for a while -- I saw her at last year's "Books for the Beast" conference, then saw her again at the National Book Festival.  On both occasions, she was a tad odd.  I chalked it up to her general discomfort with appearing in public.  Not all authors are naturally "into" speaking before a crowd.  At that first meeting, she did make me laugh.  When asked by an audience member as to whether she liked "Twilight," she paused quite a bit.  Then, she quietly responded, "Well, I'm a feminist..."  I howled.  After that, she basically "read" a thesis paper, never looking at the audience.  The paper was interesting (she is a college professor) but the delivery a bit flat.  At the National Book Festival, she didn't stand at the podium, like most speakers, but sat in a chair (somewhat behind and blocked by the podium) and had her publicist interview her.  When addressing questions from the audience, she had her publicist "take" some of the questions.  It gave the overall impression of one of those shy authors you often hear about, but rarely see.  It was also a bit off-putting.  Many of the more popular YA authors have a natural affinity in connecting with their readers.  My curiosity was peaked, and I finally picked up "Wicked Lovely."  With a remarkable similarity in plot to that book whose name I can't remember, this is the tale of a young woman who discovers she is, in fact, a fairy and not fully human.  Pursued by and entangled with fairy nobility, she works to find safety and maintain some semblance of herself.  With mature and rich descriptions, the writing here has potential, but the story itself fell flat for me.  I didn't get that "page-turning" quality that makes for a really good read.  Things happened, and then more things happened, and then certain inevitable things happened, and it was all pretty to picture from an image standpoint, but it didn't have that critical build I like.  There is also inconsistency.  Some characters are fully realized, others come off as mustachioed villains (can you say "mommy issues" much?).  The lead character, Aislinn, has far more chutzpah than Bella, but still struggles with a lack of self-esteem and ends up kind of wishy-washy as a result.  In the end, she stands up for herself, but I'm not sure I buy the sudden strength after 300 pages of running away.  Dialog rarely moved the plot forward and often seemed repetitive.  Some of the fairy characters talk like they have been around for a really long time, others (including a main character) seemed to have a different style of speech every time they open their mouths.  The point where I lost it was when Aislinn goes into the bedroom of her friend, Seth, and describes the setting like some 17 year-old girl's vision of the perfect vampire boudoir -- complete with black sheets and melting candles.  Not likely for a guy who lives in an abandoned railway car.  And with all the specific details given on descriptions, some critical plot points are dismissed too quickly.  Aislinn's "will she/won't she" sexual tensions aren't really resolved, as she spends the night with a gentleman, but I wasn't completely clear on what actually happened.  When she discovers a major talent beyond the normal, it is covered in a single sentence -- one I had to read over a few times as it felt like a drive-by of an important clue.  My problems with the book are clearly mine.  The novel received excellent reviews and one colleague gushed about how much she enjoyed it.  I suspect that my issues may be more with the genre.  Fantasy often has romance, but it often takes a back seat to the action (see: "Hunger Games").  Fairy-themed books tend to focus on romance over the action, and obviously, that is just not my thing.  So, a decent read for those who like romance.  Which is not me!

“Smile” by Raina Telgemeier

When this book came in, it arrived at the same time as another book with a happy face on the cover.  For some reason, that one caught my attention more than this one did.  I had the pleasure of seeing Ms. Telegemeier at the National Book Festival and was impressed by the demo she did on how she creates graphic stories.  In two short sittings, I was able to read “Smile,” the autobiographical tale of her childhood.  The story begins with an unexpected injury to her mouth in sixth grade, resulting in four and a half years of torturous dental work – and no shortage of teasing through those wonderful middle school years.  Unlike the “autobiography as fiction” novels I dislike, this is a well-balanced tale that has a healthy mix of teen angst and humor.  Despite the figures being drawn in a fairly simple style, the bright colors and small details (how the dialog boxes are drawn, movement lines) help the story leap out from the page and really engage the reader.  I would bet that the book would appeal to boys as well as girls, despite the female protagonist, as the story is one that almost any kid could relate to.  “Raina” as a character is a multidimensional young woman, and credits to Ms. Telegemeier for being honest about all the trials, tribulations and dramas that accompany this time in life.  She never goes out of her way to clean up her fictional self and the result feels distinctly real.  This is also evident in the story-telling, as she doesn’t overwork the tale to “find meaning.”  There is a moral here, but it comes naturally and gently.  Greatly enjoyed reading this and look forward to her next book, “Drama.”

“Peeps” by Scott Westerfeld

I’ve been meaning to read books by the uber-popular Westerfeld for some time.  Still unable to grab the first book in the “Uglies” series (it rarely sees the bookshelf here), I picked up his stand-alone “Peeps” which is his take on Vampirism.  Written in 2005, it was long before the whole “Twilight” craze and is a mature, very *different* kind of tale.  Setting:  modern day New York city.  Twist:  Vampirism is actually a parasite-based sexually transmitted disease, with all that “turning into bats, can’t see yourself in the mirror” stuff just myth – built up around various aspects of the infection.  Cal is a 19 year-old parasite positive carrier, who works for a mysterious underground society which monitors and controls infection outbreaks of the disease.  As dark as it sounds (and it is dark) there are lighter moments.  Cal is your typical 19 year-old, and has his various urges.  There is an ongoing joke about the price of New York apartments, which is funny to those of us who have faced that intimidating marketplace.  And there are terribly rich descriptions, like this one: “I gazed out onto the river.  On either side of me, the timbers of abandoned piers rose up from the water like rotting black teeth.  More pieces of my memory were falling into place, like a blurry picture downloading in waves, gradually becoming clearer.”  Did you catch how the memories come like “waves” while he is describing a scene of the river?  How cool is that?  Despite the staccato nature of having to read this book one chapter at a time, it is obvious that Westerfeld’s strong writing technique is what draws students to his work.  I continue to maintain that young people will read any kind of story so long as the characters are real and the tale well-told.  That is certainly the case here.  One note:  This was, perhaps, the grossest book I have ever read.  Interspersed between each chapter are short “lessons” on the parasites of the world.  Described in great detail, the icky glory of this myriad of critters does not make for a good reading during mealtimes (as I quickly determined).  Save this one for before you eat … you may lose weight in the process!  A great read which students will enjoy, maybe even some of those rabid Twilight fans.

"The Tequila Worm" by Viola Canales

The second book I read this summer was about Sophia (didn't seem to have a last name??), the bright child of Mexican immigrants living in a bordertown in the southwest.  “The Tequila Worm” by Viola Canales has been on my list for quite some time, as it is both an award-winner (Pura Belpre) and another new voice in the growing field of Hispanic literature for teens.  Unfortunately, I struggled with this book in an almost identical way as I did with the Jack Gantos book, “Dead End in Norvelt.”  Both stories are essentially memoirs that have been fictionalized.  I’m not a fan of the style.  I kind of think that if you are going to write a memoir, you write a memoir.  Trying to make a personal story into a fiction novel leads to many issues which don’t make for strong writing.  First and foremost, both Norvelt and this book have very weak storylines.  There is a general theme of “growing up” but meaning is gathered – and sometimes stretched – from one disconnected event to another.  The tale begins when Sophia is six (?) and visited by the neighborhood storyteller.  Using a variety of props, she tells Sophia who she is and presents a tequila worm … the significance of which I never fully figured out (despite its presence throughout).  The book careens through other moments in Sophia’s life, highlighting struggles that help define her character.  This is another problem with these books.  Because the focus is on “their life” the main character is often defined by others.  The characters around Sophia are clear, but I couldn’t always see her, only how others reacted to her.  It’s as if the author is so much in her own head that she forgets the reader needs to have the main character as fully developed as the colorful people who drop in along the way.  My additional beefs are minor, but indicative of the kind of odd focus of these kinds of books.  Bad things are sometimes “smoothed over” and arguments disappear quickly.  Sophia and her mom have a disagreement near the end of the book which is resolved in a single paragraph.  (Tell me the last time that ever happened between a mother and daughter!)  There is an over-emphasis on food, with nearly every snack described in detail.  This might be representative of the culture, but it did make me wonder if Mexican-Americans suffer from diabetes much.  My one take-away was the “Canicula” – a Mexican-American version of dog days which explains everything going wrong in the dead of summer.  I have thought of it often in these last few weeks (did I mention a massive tree branch crashed down outside my window today???)  I continue to seek out Hispanic literature for my students, and this book, with its specific Mexican-American focus (it also helps to know a little something about Catholicism), may not suffice.  I’ve noticed that these stories tend to focus on the Hispanic experience of the Southwest.  People of California and Texas may relate to the tales of Francisco Jimenez, Benjamin Saenz and Canales, but those of us on the east coast need something different.  Most of our kids hail from El Salvador, Colombia, and other nations in central and South America and they tend to connect with stories that stress urban settings over intact cultural family institutions that you might find along the border.  I think that the works of Judith Ortiz Cofer and E.R. Frank, for example, are more likely to appeal to my immigrant students than this story.  Sorry, this award-winner wasn’t for me.  

“The Red Blazer Girls: The Ring of Rocamadour” by Michael D. Beil

Well, I didn’t read as much as I would have liked this summer.  Oddly, two of the books I did read had main characters with very similar names.  The first was Sophie St. Pierre in Michael Beil’s “The Ring of Rocamadour.”  A newer series, it hasn’t been discovered yet by my students, and that is a shame.  Heralding back to teen mystery series of the past, it’s like a contemporary Nancy Drew with superior writing and characterizations.  Fans of “The Westing Game” will finally be able to find solace in an equally strong story that moves quickly and has nice little puzzles to solve.  Older students may not be interested in the book because Sophie is only a 7th grader, but she is a New Yorker, and feels a tad more sophisticated than your average 12 or 13 year-old.  It is the Sophie character that makes the story so engaging to me.  Unlike Nancy Drew, Sophie is not the smartest, most bold or most suave of her friends.  She is appealingly flawed, and owns up to her mistakes as well as her successes.  It is her narrative voice, which speaks directly to the reader, that brings a real element of fun to this tale.  At one point in the book, she insists that the reader stop and solve the puzzle – rather forcefully!  Each of the short chapters is titled with an amusing self-effacing reflection by Sophie.  Despite the overwhelming odds/girl detective thing, the characters come off as real and I had to check the author’s bio several times to remind me that he was, in fact, a male.  No doubt he is able to draw from his students’ experiences in creating this series.  Authentic, accessible and well-wrought.  Bravo, Mr. Beil.  I look forward to reading the next one.

"Matched" by Ally Condie

For fans of "Hunger Games" this series provides a less gruesome alternative (at least, initially...).  Unlike Katniss, Cassia lives in a district that is clean and orderly and perfect.  Like most stories of this kind, too perfect.  Mix in a dash of Gattaca and 1984 and you have yet another tale of a world were everything works because uniformity is enforced.  Cassia is not your typical rebel.  She doesn't question the dictates of this totalitarian regime until small inconsistencies begin to crop up.  The book isn't about fighting back, but about becoming a fighter.  The characters are diverse, well-drawn and engaging.  Subtle rebellions are portrayed nicely, making even the reader question what really is occurring at times.  An avid Sci-Fi reader, I saw a number of plot devices coming, but not all.  Use of images, colors and lyric phrasing helps set the differences in the pallet of the drones versus those who would see their world for what it truly is.  There are reminders of the human past that evoke a sense of both nostalgia and irony.  The romance aspect here is much more of a driving plot-line than it is in "Hunger Games" and the "elevated tone," particularly at the end of this first book, gets to be a bit much, but it was good enough overall for me to seek out the second and third titles.  So far, it is dystopian fiction which is far less dark than some of the other tomes I've read of late.  In itself, that makes it worth it.  Add in decent writing and a page-turning factor and it is easy to see the popularity of this series.

"Dreamland" by Sarah Dessen

When it comes to uber-popular authors like Sarah Dessen, I don't always get around to reading their work as quickly as I would like.  I'm a slow reader, and I don't like to take books out of the hands of eager teens if I can avoid it.  So, it was serendipity that I was able to get this title as an eBook from the DC Public library -- for reading on my new iPad, supplied by my employer.  I saw Ms. Dessen at the National Book Festival last year and enjoyed listening to her.  She is a funny, energetic and upbeat presenter, whose overall persona belies her age.  She seemed like a bouncy post-college girl with her short skirt, high heels and big earrings (she is actually in her 40s).  Obviously, her ability to stay in touch with that younger self is a big part of what makes her books so successful.  Students say that her work "speaks to them" and it is easy to see why.  The descriptions are clear -- I could picture every setting, every person, in my mind.  Details like "tinkling silver bracelets" bring important undertones to the story.  The characterizations in "Dreamland" are so realistic that I found myself comparing the characters to people I know, analyzing how the relationships in the book reflect mine, particularly where mothers and daughters are concerned.  Sarah Dessen's bubbly personality may make it easier for her to reach the younger set with her writing, but it's still a mystery as to where she draws such dark tales from.  Dubbed "Jodi Piccoult Jr." for her troubled themes, "Dreamland" was a book that got me in ways I didn't expect.  It starts out as typical teen novel -- there is family upset and resulting stress.  But then it turns.  I just had this knot in my stomach as Caitlin, the teenage girl at the center of the story, makes dramatic changes to her life.  Like many teens, she idealizes situations which I, as an adult, know won't end well, but Ms. Dessen is neither arch nor judgmental.  She stays true to who Caitlin is, and where she is, and lets the story happen.  This, as I have written about so often in the past few months, is good writing.  The author isn't superimposing, she simply draws a strong set of characters and events, then lets the book go to where it needs to go.  Without giving too much away, this is a tale with physical abuse, and Ms. Dessen got every detail right.  I wonder, having read the book, whether/how she did the research to make this story so authentic.  In the end, it isn't the "moral lessons" that come out, as they do in those achingly preachy teen tomes, but a sense of struggle and survival, of working to find oneself  -- something that is lost by so many teens -- that comes through.  It's upbeat without being overly clean and the complexity that is life remains.  I did laugh at the lack of cellphones and computers (the book has a 2000 copyright).  Amazing to think of how relationships have changed these days because of technology, although I expect Ms. Dessen would have could have found a way to tell this story regardless of time period.  While a distressing read in some ways, it was far better than I expected for an author sometimes dismissed by critics as "chick-lit."  I look forward to reading the next book of hers that I can actually get my hands on.

"Sirena" by Donna Jo Napoli

This one has been on the "to read" list forever.  While I knew that it had been a popular title a few years back, and knew that it was Greek myth book (hit those Rick Riordan fans!) I had little idea how stunningly good this book was.  More lyric than I would expect for a popular middle school book (with more frankness on sexuality than I would have expected), the concept of "rich" doesn't even begin to describe this book of literary excellence.  And no, one doesn't usually associate popular books with books that English teachers like, but this one somehow manages to make the marriage work -- most probably because the lead character's voice is so compelling.  Sirena is a mermaid.  She is young, wistful, and a little foolish.  She is a dreamer who doesn't just want love, she craves it.  Using elements from Homer's Odyssey and tales of the Trojan War, Sirena comes across that which she desires.  The question becomes, what happens when your dreams are fulfilled?  This is a love story, a predictably sad one.  It is most definitely not Disney.  But it is a story told with grace and gentleness and beauty.  There are five "parts" to the book.  Each has the cover image preceding, but as the story progresses, each image is zoomed in.  The final part has a close-up on Sirena's face, showing a plethora of emotions.  For a simple tale, it was an amazingly complex read which had me running for "Greek Myths" by Olivia Coolidge.  Those who have read the Percy Jackson books (comical, in comparison) will have more familiarity with the cast of characters, but still may not know the human at the center of this story.  It definitely was a keeper -- a book I thought a lot about after I finished it and one that most definitely had me "turning the page."  Fewer students have picked it up off the shelf lately -- time for a revival, I say.

"Glimmer" by Phoebe Kitanidis

This book started as a "4" and dropped to a "2" as I read it. In terms of a "what if" the concept was top-notch.  "What if" you woke up with no memory of who you are?  "What if" the town you are in is ... very strange?  The problem was in execution.  Kitchen sink plotlines (too much randomness thrown in) and inconsistencies in characterization and storyline made this not so much a page-turner for me, but a having-to-push-through-to-finish it story.

***Spoiler Alert***  "She" and "He" wake up to find themselves naked in bed.  They have no personal memories but they are not blank slates -- they understand the world around them, just not their place in it.  The chapters alternate between the two teens as they try to piece together what has happened.  This was the first problem for me -- their voices are not overly distinctive.  As usual, I was unable to read the book through in a few sittings and had to go chapter by chapter during some brief free moments.  I was constantly having to turn back to the chapter headings to remind myself who was speaking.  The biggest difference, over time, is that the boy swears a lot.  Beyond setting him up as a stereotypical male teen and making this book unacceptable for lower level readers, I really didn't see the point.   The other issue is that the chapters tell the story sequentially, with "him" picking up directly after "her" ... until the last third or so of the book, when it suddenly switches to concurrent action -- "she" and "he" relating their views of the same time period.  While I understand the need for this change as the tale progresses, I feel that changing story structure to advance plot is generally distracting and not indicative of good writing.  The number one rule in fantasy is that you can create anything you want, but you must remain consistent in what you create.

Within the first few chapters, there is a huge hint as to what is going on when a man bursts in the room and utters the word "wards" -- giving away a big chunk of the plot.  I wonder if the author felt compelled to hint at things rather than let them unfold, as it felt like heavy-handed foreshadowing.  As the two wander about town, they look in mirrors and reflections to figure out who they are.  Here is another complaint -- and a frequent one from me.  The girl describes herself as "looking younger than her age -- a blond cheerleader type, like a pissed off Disney princess."  The cover looks like a 25 year-old party girl from New York city with a substance abuse problem.  To all publishers out there:  For the love of all that is holy, can you please reconcile cover art with at least some of the story details?

There is a sense of "incompleteness" with this story.  The big jock is a jerk.  Or he is abusive.  Or he isn't.  Or he's just a dupe.  How are we supposed to feel about him?  It's never clear.  "She" meets her dad, but then hides in a closet and runs away.  Was there an interaction between them?  Unclear.  Magic is accepted in this world, with occultists who can be hired, but no one has ever thought that maybe there is some magic at work in this strange little town.  "She" is abused by step-dad, an oft-worn plot, okay; but then she remembers being abused by someone else.  It's a lot of abuse.  Are we dealing with issues much?

In the end, I had too many beefs.  There were so many themes thrown in -- ghosts, Native Americans, magic, labyrinths, eternal life, identity vs stereotype, alcoholism, depression, mommy issues, family abuse, etc etc.  It just felt like "stuff" being piled on rather than necessary elements of the story being incorporated or woven into the telling.  I also didn't warm up to the protagonists.  The two teens go through more emotions in an hour than most of my students do in a week.  I get teen angst, but this just made them seem bipolar and unlikable.  There is a premise here that you become a different person (in the girl's case, 180 degrees different) if your memory is erased.  The concept is critical to the climax, but there was little to explain or support this idea, and I just didn't buy it.  And the author got the labyrinth part wrong, IMHO.  The idea that one can break a curse by walking around the outside of a labyrinth rather than actually traveling it is bizarre -- labyrinth myths are based on the concept that one "travels" the path; failing, learning and discovering along the way (see Ursula K. LeGuin's Farthest Shore trilogy).  After the two characters had made their journey to find themselves, the idea that they could solve the puzzle by walking a circle (albeit under water) felt like a cheat.

All issues are nicely resolved in a big bow at the end, with a (nearly) happily ever after.  The girl's convenient skills as a lifeguard help with the final crisis and all is well.  It's not quite Prince Charming waking up Snow White, but it comes close.

So, clearly, I didn't care for it, which is sad because I was sure I would when I started it.  For better him/her tales, try "The Wanderer" by Sharon Creech or "So Hard to Say" by Alex Sanchez.

"Close to Famous" by Joan Bauer

It's been interesting these last few months.  I've read a lot of books that land solidly in the middle school ethos, with characters ranging from age 10 to age 13.  Some have been very good, but many have hit my sore spot by being overly preachy.  If there is one thing that young adult novels don't need is another one of those "hit you over the head with the lesson/moral/point" stories.  As loaded as this book is with messages, it somehow avoids any kind of didactic tone.  Perhaps it is an example of a tale well-told.  When the story is compelling and well-woven; the characters engaging, interesting and real, the lessons feel like part of the tale instead of something awkwardly piled on top because it's a "book for children."  As has been evidenced by so many novels of late, a good book is a good book for all.  And this is a good book.  The young protagonist, Foster, is a child who struggles but sees the good.  She is a strong spirit who rises above those who would see her put down (yes, that is a small reference to the cooking theme of the book).  She has dreams and is fierce about pursuing them.  Begun as a car chase in the night, this entertaining story about a girl who is a maestro in the kitchen gently touches on the darker elements of the adult world around her.  Maybe that's why there are so many stories written about kids of this age.  It is a magical time when kids still believe that any battle can be won with perseverance, determination and heart.  Filled with colorful, unique, and unexpected characters, this is a story with lots of delightful twists and oodles of heart -- charm, but not saccharine.  It is a genuine story, and one I really enjoyed reading.  One very minor quibble ... the book made me hungry.  Ms. Bauer, please include recipes at the end!

Oddly, I thought a lot about race when reading this book.  After the sad blog comments about skin color in the casting of the Hunger Games movie, I started thinking about how we perceive characters based on color.  Foster's mother is obviously mixed race and Foster is most certainly a bit of a mix herself (not fully or accurately portrayed by the cover of the book).  Several characters are likely African American -- but beyond a quick description Foster gives of her mother's heritage and a description of herself in a bathroom mirror, specific skin color is not mentioned.  Does it matter?  It shouldn't.  But it is interesting how "picturing a character" is important when reading a book.  Did I picture some characters as white and others black?  Yes.  Does it have any effect on the plot?  No.  Was I "right" about skin color?  Probably not.  What does all that mean?  I don't know.  But it's worth mentioning the preconceptions we bring with us into literature.  And it's worth thinking about how that impacts the world we choose to see outside of books.

Anyway.  Until next time.  Eat a cupcake.  And read this book.

"The Running Dream" by Wendelin Van Draanen

***Spoiler Alert***

Popular author Wendelin Van Draanen has tackled an oft-written story -- the high school athlete who loses a limb in a motor vehicle accident.  Jessica is a compelling character and the beginning definitely pulls you in ... but ... the book didn't hold my attention throughout as it became somewhat "pat" IMHO.  I like happy endings and it's always nice to have an inspiring tale, but I couldn't help but be reminded of the random CW teen show.  There are boys, and a mean girl, a strict teacher, etc etc.  Van Draanen avoids being overly pedantic, as many of these novels are, and goes into detail on the amputation and prosthetics in a way I've never seen.  The medical portion of the book is really interesting but it feels like many aspects of Jessica's recovery are glossed over.  She gets out of the hospital in eleven days.  Perhaps this is possible, it just seems very fast.  Similarly, Jessica gets very depressed -- which is normal -- but literally bounces out of it in a day after her friend calls her on it (psychiatric counseling is not mandatory for this type of injury???)  Jessica's best friend, Fiona, is a saint, and her dog, Sherlock, is adorable.  In the end, tremendous obstacles are overcome and the girls get their guys.  It's not a bad book.  It has some neat philosophy tucked in there (the section headings are in reverse order of an actual race -- for good reason).  See Rosa's comments for the "meat" of the tale.  It's just an uncomplicated book, one that ends up as a "feel good" read.  There are worse things.  My biggest complaint is something odd -- one of the characters, although not described as an African American, is given a "black" name and dialog that is somewhat stereotypical.  It surprised me in this day and age and was a distraction in a book where most of the characters seemed grounded in a kind of reality.  See my review, above, with comments on race and perception in books.

"A Monster Calls" by Patrick Ness, Inspired by Siobhan Dowd

Whew! Amazing book. Beautiful, lyrical, and deeply moving. My favorite TAB book of the year. Siobhan Dowd died of breast cancer at 47 but made a significant impact in her short life, being hailed as a "literary legacy" by some. Her five novels and social activism struck home with many, and Patrick Ness has created a breathtaking book, based on her concept and notes, as an homage. There is really nothing about the book that isn't fabulous. The story is deeply woven, the characters complex, the artwork stunning and the arc of the book paradoxically what you expect and what you don't. Sucked in from the very beginning, it was a page turner I was loathe to put down. Had it not been for my semi-insane life, I would have ripped through it in one sitting. As it was, the ending had me grabbing for tissue after tissue. At its core is an examination of love and loss, of humanity and struggle, and the question: which is more scary -- a monsters of our minds or the toll that cancer can take? Powerful and well-wrought, this one is a classic, as far as I'm concerned.

"Hurricane Dancers" by Margarita Engle

It must be verse novel month. Award-winner Margarita Engle has done it again with this lovely verse novel about the first pirate ship crash in the Caribbean. Filled with the voices of a plethora of characters, it seems to center on Quebrado, a young boy, "broken," who is a slave on the pirate ship. There is the arrogant captain, his equally noxious captive (the Governor of Venezuela), native peoples on the island of Cuba and a love match that cannot be denied. With the exception of Quebrado, most of the characters are based in fact. It is set in the early 1500s. A liberal set of notes at the end give context to the history and the culture.

The book moves quickly, as most verse novels do, and the poetry is rich and pretty, reflecting both the emotional tone and the setting. It is well-told and engaging. As a reader, I yearned to "fly" with Quebrado. Minor quibbles include a couple of poems that seemed incomplete ... I read them over several times and couldn't discern meaning. The other concern is how caricatured the villains of the piece were. It's possible that Ojeda and Talavera were simply horrific human beings (history certainly supports this) but when you are reading internal monologue, it's hard to imagine anyone thinking in such a two-dimensional way. We will never know. In any case, it is an excellent book bringing light to a different time and place, and it is worth getting swept away.

"The Strange Case of Origami Yoda" by Tom Angleberger

Adorable. Fun. Smart. Unexpected. Refreshing. Great. Inspiring. Awesome.

What a terrific little book. A fast read, this tells the story of a middle school loser with a finger puppet and the geeks and nerds around him who seek guidance from said finger puppet. The presentation is terrific. Set up as "case files" on the mystery of origami Yoda, each chapter comes from a different student perspective. The stories are typed in an old-style font, with seeming "handwritten" comments at the end of each section. The background looks a lot like the crumpled paper found in every kids' backpack and the doodles throughout give a nice sense of context.

Do they believe? Well, yes and no. Will you? Read and find out.

"Under the Mesquite" by Guadalupe Garcia McCall

I've been so blessed with verse novels. It wasn't a format that I ever thought I would like -- but then I read Virginia Euwer Wolff and Sonya Sones, and I was drawn in. This book, winner of the Pura Belpre Writing Medal and a Morris Honor for 2012, echoes my favorite verse novel writer, Karen Hesse. Like good haiku, the economy of language portrays a richness that can never be found in prose. In this story, spanning both years and nations, we see the coming-of-age of Lupita, a young girl who revels in her Mexican heritage but is American in her dreams of independence. The oldest of eight, she struggles through high school as her mother's cancer decimates a warm, loving woman who is also her best friend. The roses in their Texas garden symbolize her mother's beauty, but the stubborn mesquite that towers over the flowers show Lupita's determination to hold life together despite overwhelming odds. Words flow across pages like the "mighty Rio Grande" with such strength and color that you can't help but turn the page and see what happens next, even as you ache to soak up the stunning images portrayed by these seemingly simple phrases. It is a book to be fully savored -- find time to read it without interruption (difficult in my life). It is also a book you could read and re-read, finding new insights each time. Brava, Ms. McCall.

"Dead End in Norvelt" by Jack Gantos

I had heard Jack Gantos read from this book at the National Book Festival last fall, but hadn’t gotten around to it before it won the Newbery Award. When I asked colleagues about it, the universal response was “ehh.” My response is not so much “ehh” as a plain old “didn’t like it.” Some of my issues were based on expectations. I’ve read the Joey Pigza books and liked them a lot. I was expecting another laugh-out-loud fiction book. Instead, I got a thinly-veiled memoir with few ha-has. For me, there was an occasional smirk, but no laughs. The lack of humor, however, was not my biggest complaint. As mentioned, the book is categorized as fiction but reads like memoir. The story isn’t really progressive, rather, it is a series of snapshots of a summer when Jack was grounded. As a result, there are many threads left hanging and not a lot of growth or closure. The “voice” of the book often feels like an adult reflecting back, rather than an 11 year-old actually experiencing it, which drags down the narrative even further. I should have read this book in a matter of days, but it took me weeks because I didn’t feel any pressing need to “turn the page and see what happens next.” The various endings are highly contrived, and don’t fit with an otherwise realistic feel for the book. ***Spoiler Alert*** -- Jack’s father abandons his plans for a fallout shelter (but we are never clear as to why), a random murder plot is thrown in demoting one character to the level of a mustachioed villain, a beloved character “goes to sleep” at the end (is tomorrow another day or is she dying?) and there is a preposterous plan to fly a crop-duster plane from Pennsylvania to Florida (with how many stops??). Even Fantasy and Science Fiction books can have believability if they are consistent in the worlds they create. As a reader, this world had too many random elements I couldn’t reconcile. There was also the issue of connecting to the characters. Jack has an almost flat emotional affect. He reacts the same way to almost every event. Many of the other characters felt two-dimensional to me – there is a tomboy, a pretty girl, sniping parents and a cranky old man. Jack’s mother talks about how sniping is a sign of love, but I didn’t buy it. The parent relationship felt more George and Martha than Tony and Ziva (yes, I’m mixing classic literature with a pop culture reference). The one character I fully enjoyed was not the protagonist, but his odd-ball neighbor, Miss Volker. In many ways, the book feels like an homage to this woman. She is colorful, interesting and irascible. The scenes where she is dictating history-filled obituaries to Jack are the best parts of the story, IMHO. Given that this is a Newbery, teachers are likely to flock to it. It’s the kind of story teachers love and kids, well … We will see if others find gems within its pages that eluded me.

"Where Things Come Back" by John Corey Whaley

John Corey Whaley has done something extraordinary with this book -- he was awarded both the Printz Medal and Morris Award for his efforts. No one has ever won both. The Printz Medal, for outstanding YA Literature, was the launching pad for authors like John Green, Meg Rosoff and Gene Luen Yang. The Morris Award is for best first novel. A rather auspicious honor, Mr. Whaley, Bravo. And now -- is the book worthy? Well, yes. This is the strongest literary novel I have read in a while, and from that standpoint, it is kind of brilliant. Reading it, however, took a little effort and concentration. Whaley weaves different characters into his tale, each chapter careening from one to another, often without a strong indication that "we are switching narrators now." He also adds in a mixed timeline (without telling the reader that he's doing it) and at least one character who goes from first to third person narrative from time to time; sometimes to narrate something imaginary, other times to describe something real that has significant emotional impact. Even the storyline defies description, as it goes places, time and time again, that you don't expect. While this is refreshing, I kept trying to figure out what the theme was, where he was taking it ... and I couldn't. Which isn't necessarily a bad thing. It just meant I had to pay attention. Really pay attention. And re-read a few things. The book is a mature work -- Cullen Witter, the 17 year-old focus of many chapters, uses the term "a**-hat" fairly frequently and treats his burgeoning sexual encounters with the same dry snarkiness that infuses most of his world view. We begin with Cullen's seemingly random discussion of a dead body in a morgue in Little Rock, then shoot across the globe to meet Benton Sage, a young evangelical who is challenged by his missionary work in Ethiopia. Next up is Cabot Searcy, a college kid who is touched by Benton's quest and takes up his own mission to understand the apocrypha of Enoch and the mission of the angel Gabriel (and yes, it is interesting that "Searcy" sounds just a little bit like "search). Is it a book about Christianity? I'd have to say "no." Is it about the meaning of life? Well, maybe, if the meaning of life is "42." Is it about searching? Yes -- but the answers, if there are any, don't seem to be plentiful. Obviously, there is the old butterfly theme of how we interact with each other and how one thing impacts another -- but Whaley clearly sees that as randomness rather than wanting to give it all a purpose. It is a book that had me staying up late to read "just one more chapter." It is story with so many "huh" moments it had me reflecting back to Libba Bray's "Going Bovine." And it is a novel that will keep me thinking ... for a good long while. Mr. Whaley is joining impressive ranks with these awards. If this book is any indication, he will fit right in.

"The Glorious Adventures of the Sunshine Queen" by Geraldine McCaughrean

At some point, I'm going to have to figure out why I keep reading Geraldine McCaughrean's books when I don't particularly like them. I think, in part, they are all very different and I don't recognize them as being by the same author until after I start them, then at some point, I stop and say "What???" and look up the author. To its credit, I liked this one more than "White Darkness" but considerably less than "Pepper Roux." The thing is, I should have liked it. The delightful adventures of a misbegotten theatre troupe at the turn of the century? What's not to love? Well, let's start with "turn of the century" -- I'm really not sure when the book takes place, and I read it -- thoroughly. It is during the life of Queen Victoria, when trains are replacing steamboats and electric generators are used by the well-off. So, I'd put it late 1800's? Anyway, three young children and their school teacher have their lives upended by a tragedy, followed by a plague, followed by a flood, followed by ... well, you get the idea. Each chapter seems to want to top the previous one in building up improbable adventure after improbable adventure. I am more than happy to lend some "willing suspension of disbelief" as the next person, but there comes a point of total incredulity. There is also such a whirlwind of action that I really had a hard time connecting with the large cast of characters. Hint: If you have so many characters in your tale as to require a "list of players" at the beginning, then you have too many characters or you aren't drawing them strongly enough for readers to connect (both, I'd have to say). That, and the vocabulary was challenging enough to have me grabbing for a dictionary ... repeatedly. Despite the constant tumult, I didn't find myself wanting to see what would happen next, and it took me three times longer to read this than it should have. I don't think it is a "bad" book per say, but it definitely wasn't my cup of tea. Having read three Geraldine McCaughrean books thus far, I may be a little more picky about picking up her next one. For those willing to take on a rollicking, fantastical tale, be my guest.

"The Best Bad Luck I Ever Had" by Kristin Levine

This book joins a host of newer historical novels about a period in U.S. History that had previously been overlooked in YA fiction. Mix in "Hattie Big Sky" by Kirby Lawson with Geraldine McCaughrean's "Glorious Adventures of the Sunshine Queen" and you get a growing group of books that fill in a lot of gaps on turn-of-the-century America. Set in 1917 Alabama this book chronicles a year in the life of Dit Sims, a middle child among ten who just wants his dad to remember who he is. When the new postmaster arrives in town, the uneasy peace between blacks and whites begins to fade as Dit befriends the man's daughter, a smart and pretty black girl from Boston, named Emma. The first half of the novel is "slice of life" stuff, fairly didactic in tone, much like many of the "historical novels for young readers" that have graced library shelves for decades. The budding friendship between Dit and Emma is both adorable and predictable. Quite expectantly, the story takes a serious turn about half-way. The ending wraps things up well, if not particularly realistically, and -- borrowing a page from an episode of "Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman" -- a creature is given freedom in a grand symbolic gesture. I very much liked the characters of Dit and Emma. They are not only real, but I liked watching Dit try to gain new perspective on his world as Emma challenges him to move beyond his "that's just the way things are" mentality. All of the characters have dimensions to them -- even the bad guy, whose mother reminisces about her son without making apology. Two warnings: there is plentiful use of the "n" word in various forms and this is not a good book for vegetarians. Animals are not treated well here, with the rural mentality of "animals = meat" being fairly predominant. I liked this book, but I didn't love it. It was a little too "driven" for my tastes ... clearly this was all planned out from the beginning with no sense of letting the story flow where it may. I couldn't help feel that the author "made" the ending work they way she wanted it to, which gave the story a somewhat forced feel (although it was nice that it didn't go as dark as it could have...). On the other hand, I liked this book far more than "Sunshine Queen" which I have yet to get through. Much like "Hattie Big Sky" the afterward mentions that this tale was a result of real-life stories coming from a grandparent. The author will be speaking to our bookclub in a few months and I am once again conflicted on how to recommend it. With 12 year-old protagonists, I doubt older students will be interested in it; but much of the behind-the-scenes content requires a more mature reader. Like Christopher Paul Curtis's "Elijah of Buxton" I feel this book might be overlooked because it does not fit any specific audience very well, and will require readers to "give it a chance." Hopefully, most of the bookclub will read it -- we will see what they have to say.

"Wonder Woman: Love and Murder" by Jodi Picoult, et al

I've been a Wonder Woman (and Batman) fan forever but haven't really read the series regularly since I was fifteen (?) Imagine my surprise in seeing the latest Wonder Woman ... written by Jodi Picoult!?!? I simply had to read it. First of all, Wonder Woman has gotten a lot, um, bulkier since my day. In many of the frames she looks seriously like a weight-lifter in need of a steroid intervention. Even her bosoms, always generous in the past, seem so large that they might knock over objects in her way. The suit has changed as well, now being so hi-cut that one is grateful for bikini waxes -- although a bit of butt-cheek is clearly visible when our hero is viewed from the rear (pun intended). None of these modifications were improvements, IMHO, but the storyline was ... interesting. The combo of Jodi Picoult and Wonder Woman was not as odd as one might think. The award-winning Ms. Picoult layers her women in all the complexity that we carry and clearly likes a strong feminine ideal. She brings to Wonder Woman that struggle -- how to be a woman with desires yet be a person with more responsibility (aka duty) than she cares for. In Jodi's own words (there is a nice introduction) this is a Wonder Woman who feels, and questions, and wants. Adding in the obligatory mother-angst of a Picoult novel (the author claims she gets along with her mom very well...yeah, right...) and you get a super-hero that thinks as much as they fight (and sometimes does both at the same time). Personally, I liked it. Kind of like the Highlander TV show, where they have philosophical musings about the meaning of life for a good half-hour before they chop someone's head off, this is a story for the long-haul. How does Wonder Woman continue being Wonder Woman when the "woman" inside her is conflicted? With a good dose of dry, ironic humor, I found this an easy read and a nice addition to the Wonder Woman lore. With a killer cliff-hangar (pun sort-of intended) there is lots of fodder for the next book. Who will write that one? Dan Brown? Judy Blume? James Patterson? (he writes everything under the sun anyway) In any case, it was a nice return after a long absence.