"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.

"The Wise Man's Fear" by Patrick Rothfuss

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It is rare that I have an entire week to curl up with a cup of cocoa and a book "just for me." The holidays provided such a treat in this delightful sequel to "The Name of the Wind." Another fan of the books dismissed this as an "expected second novel." I would disagree. Of course, you have the events one would assume in this bildungsroman (isn't it nice to use a big word now and then?) Without giving much away, I can tell you that Kvothe leaves the comfort of the University for the wide world, having adventures that help him grow from boy to man; but the tone was more personal and engaging for me. Since I now knew the context, I was able to just dive right in. The novel has the same rich storytelling that made the first book so gripping. There are stories within stories (within stories), all with a remarkably Irish feel (Mr. Rothfuss lives in Wisconsin) that draw me in as a reader and let me see a world so real I feel like I am inside it. There is also darkness and violence. Rothfuss doesn't gloss over the hard stuff but he doesn't revel in it, either, relating one battle in a dry, matter-of-fact tone almost more chilling than something told with brimming emotion. Despite its nearly 1,000 pages of teeny text, I was sad to see it end. I suspect the third book (not even hinted at for title or publishing date) will be even harder to read, as the portents are not good for all of this to end happily. On the other hand, this is a tale extremely well-told, and that makes it downright delectable.

"Bats at the Library" by Brian Lies

In a follow-up to "Bats at the Beach," Brian Lies creates another rich picture book about the adventures of those (somewhat less than) adorable and very curious bats. Told in rhymed couplets, the vocabulary is complex enough that the book could be enjoyed by some older readers. It definitely has enough levels to be read again and again -- a major plus when purchasing a picture book. The drawing is detailed and three dimensional. Feeling like collage at some points (it isn't) the images seem like you could reach into them. With a love of all things library, the bats explore every inch and corner of this unusual playground. When they fall into the stories themselves, readers will recognize iconic literary characters re-imagined as bats. This is a great series of books to get younger ones interested in bats. Getting past the rat-like similarities, they are fascinating creatures. And the book is, in a word, delightful.

"Warp Speed" by Lisa Yee

The thing is -- I should have loved this book. A companion novel to "Stanford Wong Flunks Big Time," this is the story of Marley Sandelski's 7th grade year. Marley is an A/V geek who translates everything in his life into Star Trek terms. His best friend Ramen loves Star Wars and their new friend Max loves Batman. This ~was~ my life. I was a Star Trek geek and my friends loved Star Wars and Batman, etc. so when Marley makes a reference to TOS ep 51, I **totally** know what he means. And yet. The book, a very middle school, very typical pre-teen book, just didn't grab me. The characters go through the average trials and tribulations, but the writing just seemed kind of surface -- skimming things instead of looking with any depth. For a fairly tame storyline, there is vicious violence in a couple of places and it is just put out there then things move on. The 61 chapters in 310 pages means a lot of breezing through moments rather than living them. I also wasn't wild about the author's voice, which comes off a little more obvious than intended given the first person narrative. While Marley feels authentic, this seems a lot more like a story told by an adult about a kid than a story told by a kid. There are light touches of moralism here and there ("it's okay to be a geek but it doesn't hurt to clean yourself up" and "you need to stand up to bullies") which give things a stilted "too perfect" feel. Marley's parents are interesting but other adults are stereotypes, particularly the school principal, who is one step to the right of a cartoon villain. When Yee goes for it, the descriptions are great (i.e. "The tragic tree") but the initial setup was murky. Took me a long time to realize this was Los Angeles? I think perhaps there was a sense that the reader could jump in if they had read "Stanford Wong" but since I hadn't, I was fairly lost. The negativism aside, I do think kids would enjoy this book (assuming they can suss out the difference between Kirk and Picard) but to me, it felt more like adult reminiscence than real life.

"The Night Bookmobile" by Audrey Niffenegger

What begins as a gentle, sweet homage to readers becomes a dark and bizarre graphic novel that works as a far-out, trippy tale of "too much love." Audrey Niffenegger, author of "The Time Traveler's Wife" tells a pseudo-biographical tale of her life -- wandering the streets of Chicago after a fight with her boyfriend. She comes across a Winnebago filled with books. The books, she realizes, are a rather "unusual" collection. She reawakens her love of reading and becomes somewhat obsessive about devouring books. Nine years later, she encounters the library again, and again, this creates a new path in her life. After a third visit, she ... well, I won't give it away, but it was a moment of "WTF?" as I read it. After that, there is a bit of meandering about paths and seeking bliss and I'm not sure what. A twisted tale, to say the least. The afterwards are worth reading as they give this strange book some context. Read if you dare.

"Naked Heat" by Richard Castle

Yes, the second book is just as deliciously good as the first, although slightly hotter. Once again, we meet the alter-egos from ABC's "Castle" TV series in a hard-boiled detective novel with enough twists and turns to make your head spin. Things are not easy for NYC Detective Nikki Heat as she attempts to wade through the usual suspects to determine who killed a famous gossip columnist in a particularly gruesome fashion. Line up a coyote, a limo driver, a concierge, a rock star, a baseball player, a "working girl", an actor or two and a bunch of lawyers and handlers and you have more suspects than you can shake a stick at. Like the first book, this one adheres closely to the TV show and maintains the fiction regarding authorship (although I still believe it was penned by Cannell). I did find it a little harder to keep track of the storyline in this book than in the first, but that may have been a result of having to read it in small chunks rather than curling up on the couch over the weekend (which is really the best way to read these). The third title and the Derek Storm graphic novel are on the way, so I look forward to savoring them soon.

"The Accidental Genuis of Weasel High" by Rick Detorie

In the same vein as the Wimpy Kid books or Sherman Alexie's "The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian" this novel chronicles Rick Detorie's 9th grade year in prose and cartoons. His English teacher has given the class an assignment -- keep a journal. They can write anything they want, but they need to write. The student with the most interesting journal gets an "A." Guess who won? What follows is Mr. Detorie's take on his first year of high school. Like so many books for teens, we discover that 14 is a difficult age, but the plethora of observances made by the young Rick lightens the tone by being both touching and laugh-out-loud funny. Failed attempts at getting girlfriends, an evil older sister, wanting a camcorder he can't afford and making connections at his first job are just some of the great stories you'll find here. The style is engaging and the writing very very real. Rick reminds me of kids I know, and like. He's just a regular teen trying to figure it all out, and he makes some fascinating discoveries along the way. A fast read with broad appeal, this one is a definite keeper.

"Ten Miles Past Normal" by Frances Dowell

Albeit the typical teen drama (9th grade girl tries to adapt to the social mores of high school with impressive failure) this nice little novel manages to be fun and sweet. The lead character, Janie, has a clean, real voice and is clearly living with some frustration but doesn't come off as whiny. The characters around her are fleshed-out and layered. Everyone from parents to friends have different sides, which helps to weave a story that is sometimes unexpected. The plot elements of an English report and joining a club are secondary to Janie's internal quest to find a role for herself as friends drift apart and her farm background separates her socially from her suburbanite peers. Nothing is overly stressed. The cute guy who might not be what he appears is dealt with in under two chapters, the latest adventure of mom becomes a quick anecdote. In many ways, this book reminded me of Stephanie Tolan's "Surviving the Applewhites," another book that is an enjoyable read with few major events to drive the plot. It also has the gentle style of Dana Reinhardt's "A Brief Chapter of My Impossible Life." As you might expect, Janie craves to be a "normal" teen, but has a difficult time determining what that is, exactly, and ends up creating her own definition of what is important. It's a solid book that should have broad appeal. Once again, my only complaint is cover art, which gives away a major plot point that should have been revealed in the story rather than on the cover. It's an engaging photo, though, and likely to get some kids to pick it up who might not otherwise.

"The False Princess" by Eilis O'Neal

Once again, I was deceived by a cover and a preconception that I knew what this book was about. Expecting something fluffy, like Gail Carson Levine's "Ella Enchanted" or the unending Princess books by Meg Cabot, I instead found a rich fantasy novel more in the style of Kristin Cashore's "Graceling." It is a novel more dense than it appears. In the book, Princess Nalia discovers a truth she doesn't expect then travels through a series of trials, and lives, to figure out who she is and where she belongs. There is, of course, the big bad, but very little true evil. No character is simple -- each brings subtle layers of humanity to this complex tale. There is magic, but the story also has a fairly specific medieval setting. Despite the imaginary nations there is, at one point, a specific year listed (1176?) Even with the extremely minor mistake of referring to the King and Queen as "highness" (it should have been "Majesty") this could be a historical novel if you took out the fantastical elements. It was a rich read and a tremendously satisfying (if not slightly predictable) ending. Much to my delight, it does seem to be a stand-alone. Not that I don't love a good series, but it seems everything these days is in multiple parts. It was nice to commit to a single book and not worry about having the time to read all the books that follow. No question, this type of novel, which allows you to escape into another world and travel along with the adventures, is my most favorite.

"Airborne" by Kenneth Oppel

I recently saw Kenneth Oppel speak. I had just finished “Half-Brother” but was eager to read “Airborn,” his big-hit award winner, which was a fantasy. After reading a good deal of historical and realistic fiction, it was long past time to enjoy my favorite genre. I could not have been more pleased. This rollicking adventure set in a steam-punk style alternative Earth is hugely engaging due to “Matt Cruse” – his 15 year-old protagonist, a ship’s boy so real, with dreams so large, that you can’t help but feel a connection. Matt is a cabin boy on the Aurora, one of thousands of airships which cross the world in place of airplanes. We meet him in his favorite spot – the crow’s nest of his mighty vessel, staring into the dark of a wide sky. The adventures build quickly and may seem eventually seem improbable, but Matt’s pure heart and his newfound attraction for the plucky Miss Kate deVries make this a fun tale. It’s sentimental without the sap, solid literary writing that is accessible. There are shipwrecks and pirates and the discovery of … well, something quite special. There’s even a loss I didn’t expect, but one that makes Matt’s quest for a better life all that more poignant. Nothing is black and white here, more sepia-toned with shades upon shades. The book is long, but the pacing good. I had no problems careening through to see “what would happen next.” In all, it was one of the most satisfying books I have read in a while. Perfect to curl up on the couch with over a cold, rainy weekend. People often talk about books being like food – this one was like a seven course meal. It truly took me out of myself and into a rich world of the author’s design.

"The Rock and the River" by Kekla Magoon

There was something in the timing of this book. I had just attended the dedication of the Martin Luther King, Jr. memorial and had been thinking a lot about how it must have felt to grow up as a child of the famous preacher (two of his children spoke at the ceremony). Not three days later, I picked up this book to read for an upcoming conference. It is the story of Sam and his brother, Steven ("Stick") who are the sons of a famous (but fictional) civil rights leader in Chicago. It is 1968 and while their father preaches nonviolence, both boys struggle with questions about the right path to follow, particularly as the Black Panther Party grows in strength and numbers in their inner city neighborhood. Unlike "Patterson Heights" the cover art is accurate. Sam is 13 and the image on the book looks like a 13 year-old. For the most part, Sam acts 13, struggling to find the right words to say to a cute girl he likes and idolizing his older brother. Unfortunately, this first novel for the young author Kekla Magoon is a tad inconsistent in "voice." When bad things happen, and they did in this period of history, Sam pops out of being a kid to being a mouthpiece for Magoon's literary skills. Take this passage, "On the left wall, surrounding the windows, hung a huge curtain of African-print cloth. Deep blue swirled among lighter shades, like ocean draped in sky. The room had a voice of its own, a scream of outrage, a whisper of truth, and in the corner, a murmuring cry." It's beautiful, even prophetic, but it isn't consistent with the thoughts of your average 13 year old. There are many ways this could have been addressed -- Sam could have been made older, or the narrative could have been third person instead of first person, giving the opportunity for a meta-voice behind the story. Ms. Magoon could have split the narrative between Sam and his older brother, a popular trend these days, to give a variety of perspectives. As it is, the novel didn't really work for me. I didn't feel the book was bad but it was distracting. Every time the narrative began to wax poetic I felt a disconnect from the character. The end result is that this book came off more as one of those 1970 message novels than a compelling story. "The Rock and the River" is a parable -- one that gets repeated in some form three times in the book. On one hand, it's like we are being beaten over the head "This is the MORAL," but on the other hand, the full parable is never explained (nor could I find it on Google) so it was frustrating on multiple levels. My general "ehh" feeling on the book is a rarity. It has won numerous awards and is considered a notable title. So give it a shot, particularly if you don't get stuck on little minutiae like me.

"Ghosts of War: The True Story of a 19 Year-Old GI"

This is not an anti-war book. It is not a pro-war book. It is not a policy essay nor a social commentary. It is the story of a young man who loses his innocence -- and loses it in a far more profound way than most. Ryan Smithson was a high school student who joined the military after watching the twin towers fall. At 19 he was sent to Iraq. This is a nonfiction account of his 12 months there. Told in short vignettes, the story is dry and to the point. He doesn't load in sentimentality or opinion, just tells tale after tale of the boring days, the hard days, the scary days. There are laughs along the way, and a lot of detail on what a soldier might do other than "capture cities." Ryan is an equipment operator who helps to pave roads, fix bridges, shore up barriers. In his words, there is nothing glamorous about the work, nothing that will get him and his fellow brothers-in-arms on the news, but their efforts are vital to the day-to-day operations in the war zone. The matter-of-fact style of the book actually makes it more powerful. It's clear from the beginning that Ryan's stoic narrative is about his need to distance himself emotionally from the events surrounding him. When he finally does have to face the struggles he experienced, I cried with him. Specialist Smithson did not write this book to make a statement, he wrote it as catharsis. It is powerful, well-crafted and may be a good insight into how the soldiers on the ground are coping with the war that will not end. Ryan is not making a political statement, he is making a personal one. The choice to serve was personal, the experiences were indelible, and he should be thanked for working so hard not only to share this part of his life, but to help the reader truly understand. Stunningly good and worth the read. Bravo, sir.