"Beneath a Meth Moon" by Jacqueline Woodson

An excellent addition to books like "Go Ask Alice" and "Smack," "Beneath a Meth Moon" is Jacqueline Woodson's ode to young people fighting addiction.  The main character, Laurel, is a scant 15 years old but has suffered tremendous loss in her young life.  Seemingly naive, or perhaps undereducated, her descent into Meth addiction is swift and devastating.  Told in a lyric style that borders on the poetic, Laurel attempts to write an elegy to honor and then let go of her past.  The story flows like water, with water and waves being major themes in this tale.  Snapshots emerge with each of the short chapters, told in a nonlinear style, and fill in a picture of a normal life that is upended by Mother Nature.  Although it is never confirmed that this is a tale of Hurricane Katrina it could be.  The novel shows ripples created by such a storm (there's that water metaphor again) and how they can echo across people's lives for years to come.  There are also numerous echoes of faith.  While not heavy-handed, Laurel comes from one of those rural sections of our nation where life is slower and God is found in all things.  Laurel's grandmother echoes this in her musings.  Laurel's sing-song speaking style, written with exquisite specificity by Ms. Woodson, adds to the rhythm of the telling.  Even spoken words are italicized here, rather than put in quotes, perhaps to make sure this is smooth reading or to add an ethereal quality to the whole thing.  In any case, it is yet another brilliant book by the hugely talented Jacqueline Woodson and reaffirms her status as a lifetime achievement writer, an honor bestowed on her by the American Library Association.  Ms. Woodson may be one of the youngest recipients of this prize but her extensive body of work shows that it is talent, not years, that makes a writer truly worthy.

"Sita's Ramayana" by Samhita Arni and Moyna Chitrakar

"Sita's Ramayana" is a graphic novel retelling of one of the more famous folktales of India, focusing on the tragic love story between Sita and Rama.  Full of twists, turns, monsters and magic, it makes the works of Homer seem downright simplistic.  For those unfamiliar with Indian myth, be prepared for anamistic plants and animals, more battles than you can throw a stick at, and very large, complicated familial connections (it's kind of like a bunch of Irish Catholics at Easter ...)  In any case, the authors provide a set of genealogies at the beginning and some information on Indian story-telling traditions at the end of the book.

The tale is told as succinctly as possible (which pretty much means:  love, death, escape, capture, hope, hopelessness, battle, battle, battle, etc, betrayal, estrangement, and more death).  Images (which came first, according to the notes) are painted in primitive style, with bold colors, disproportionate figures and expressions which don't change much, but are rotated in such a way as to make them more vertical or prone depending on their circumstances.  The text almost seems to be an intrusion into this, as the images flow like Indian music -- on a single, unending path (see the term "Raaga" for an explanation) but the words are fairly staccato.

It's not that I disliked this book, but it takes effort on the part of the reader to engage.  This book is truly "Indian" -- with Indian creators and publishers.  It is one of many new books I have purchased to appeal to the burgeoning Indian population here in the states, but in many ways it feels foreign to those of us unaccustomed to this kind of literature.  In other words, if you know nothing about Indian culture, don't start here.  If, however, you know your Bhangra from your Bollywood, you might enjoy dipping your toe into this full-fledged homage to the female perspective on the Sita/Rama legend.

"Ranger's Apprentice, Book One: The Ruins of Gorlan" by John Flanagan

I finally had the time to dip into this very popular series and it was a satisfying entry.  "Ranger's Apprentice" is pretty standard fantasy fare without heavy-duty magic.  Think more along the lines of Lloyd Alexander and less Madeleine L'Engle.  There is the young boy without a sense of where his life is going; an older, if not mysterious, mentor; a growing sense of purpose and a good number of fights along the way to the big uber-battle.  The attraction of boys to this series is easy to see.  With lots of action, a few valuable life-lessons, and only the slightest hint of "girls" this is one has enough blood, yet enough intelligence, to appeal to a broad range of male readers.  John Flanagan is one of the growing number of Australian authors gracing bookshelves these days.  For the most part, he writes well.  The story has the nuts and bolts found in all fantasy novels but is original in the details.  The characters are fully drawn and the lead character, "Will" is both appealing and accessible.  Mr. Flanagan keeps the action moving but puts in enough specifics to get a substantial feel for the world that he creates.  Perhaps my favorite element in his writing is the relative depth to both characters and plot-lines.  Nothing is simple or clean.  Things progress as they should (and, at a couple points, exactly as I expected them to) but there are edges to each event and the reader can easily see any element of the tale fleshed out to include stories upon stories (which is why, I'm guessing, that this series is now up to 12 books??)  The only two hiccups for me were relatively minor.  First, there was no map!  Which was mostly just curious, since all fantasy novels of this type seem to include them.  Keep in mind that there is always an external journey in these things, which is typically reflective of the main character's bildungsroman (don't you love fancy words?)  Anyway, it wasn't a big deal, just a bit surprising, as I had to imagine all the "travels" into mountains and far-off lands.  Since books are about using one's imagination it shouldn't be a reach to picture it all in your head.  More off-putting was the author's habit of changing point of view from paragraph to paragraph (sometimes sentence to sentence) which slowed me down a bit in reading speed, as I had to double-back more than once to keep track of who was thinking what.  The overall story, however, was short and engaging enough for me to get through in under a week, so the narrative voice(s) were not a major issue.  In a word, this was a very "solid" first book.  Glad to have it in the collection and feel more comfortable than ever recommending it to a wide base of readers.

"Swords" by Ben Boos

The full title of this book is "Swords -- an Artist's Devotion."  Mr. Boos makes a point (actually, twice ... at the beginning *and* the end of the book) that he is not an expert on the topic, just an artist and a devotee.  You should take him at his word.  The images are stunning and rich, reproduced in deep colors on silky, thick paper.  The work is so good that one could mistake some images for photographs.  For any fan of swords (as I am), the close-up details are interesting and greatly appreciated.  For all of the "pretty" nature of this book, however, the text is deeply lacking.  Despite his protestations that he is "not an expert" Mr. Boos clearly did his research (there is a good bibliography in the back) yet writes in a haphazard, weak style.  The annotations range from information-specific (Scottish swords have a "braid" inside them that creates a ripple effect down the center of the sword) to hopelessly vague (there are 10 kinds of Viking hilts ... drawn but not described or named) to randomly subjective (in a discussion on female warriors he states "These brave and noble women are written into the sagas and histories, and they prove beyond doubt that the sword in the hand of a war maiden is as fearsome as the sword in the hand of any man.")  He also includes information I would consider incorrect ... that medieval peasants had access to a plethora of large knives ... not likely for serfs -- or that wild boars would willingly impale themselves because of "bloodlust."  More likely, this large wild animal running fast towards a target couldn't turn around in time (they aren't particularly known for their mobility.  Think "bull" with shorter legs.)  In any case, it's a nice "coffee table" book -- gorgeous to skim through.  I wouldn't recommend it for research, however -- as the author emphasizes, time and time again.

"Set to Sea" by Drew Weing

The back of this graphic novel describes it as a “ballad told in visual rhyme.”  While correct, it could also be described as haiku – with short, specifically chosen images and spare words conveying tremendous meaning.  The tale itself is symbolism and metaphor.  A would-be poet struggles to write flowery verse about life on the sea – from a tavern.  Failing, miserable and drunk, he is shanghaied into service with a rough and ready crew.  As the years pass, he experiences the life he struggled to write about, seeing a wealth of realities he never imagined.  This gives birth to a satisfying and appropriate conclusion – one might even call it ironic.  Drawings that remind you of the “Popeye” cartoons are nonetheless detailed and specific, hiding gentle humor throughout (for instance, the tavern where the story begins is “The Angry Kitten”).  The artistic style, combined with the black and white line drawings, make it easy for the reader to harken back to the time period, very roughly set in the period of tall sailing ships.  A brief read, I was able to get through the book in less than 10 minutes.  Like Shaun Tan’s book, “The Arrival,” however, it is one of those stories you should slow down for.  This is poetry, and it is important not to rush through it but to take each image and word for their full meaning.  A neat little book, it is easy to see why it has “buzz” going into awards season.

“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.