A Northern Light, by Jennifer Donnelly

Going back a ways for a classic....

It's 1906 in the Adirondacks and Mattie Gokey is the 16 year-old daughter of a poor widower farmer, with dreams of going to college. Although she is bright and intelligent and her progressive teacher believes she has the talent to go to school, there are a lot of barriers in her way: a father who doesn't believe that higher education is appropriate, a family that needs her now that her mother is dead and her older brother has run away from home, a beau who expects her to become his adoring wife, and the grinding poverty of the North Woods itself.

Ostensibly told through the lens of the story of a murder of Grace Brown, her death is only a device to introduce the story of Mattie. Donnelly did her homework well (a bibliography at the end will give you her sources) and the book is full of rich detail (it's a great illustration of how to write good histiorical fiction). At the same time, the details are also just decorative and secondary to the author's purpose: which is to address the subject of identity at a time (and place) where finding your identity if you were a woman was particularly challenging.

I fear that this wonderfully-nuanced book has been taken over by the formal pedagogues and turned into an exercise to occupy the shelves of school lockers. The reprint edition I read comes complete with an author interview and a list of discussion questions -- the type that some lazy High School teacher is probably assigning their students to answer in perfect five paragraph theme essays. The story, with its healthy dose of political correctness probably brings that treatment on itself, but it never ceases to sadden me to have a book intended for enjoyment become a tool for formal learning.

Discussing whether I like or dislike a classic seems mostly pointless. If you haven't been forced to read this book for a class, then you'll probably like it (if you have been assigned the book, then hopefully you'll like it anyway!). There's plenty to like: memorable characters, the aforementioned intricate historical details, soaring hopes, and terrible set-backs. The unfortunate appearance of symbolism, irony, and Deep Meaningful Scenes is unfortunate, but intended mostly to keep frustrated English Composition majors (also called English Teachers) happy. Personally, I'm not a big fan of the interrupted narrative (too much jumping forward and backward in time) that Donnelly uses throughout the story, but it's very chic. It is, in the end, one of those awarded books that really deserved its awards.

Cracked Up To Be, by Courtney Summers

Once upon a time, Parker was the perfect student, captain of the cheerleaders, and the center of attention, but then everything started to plummet and no one can figure out why. Why she started showing up at school drunk, failing all of her classes, or finally in a hotel room with a bottle of Jack and another bottle of sleeping pills. Now, she is bad news. With hardly a kind word for anyone and a determination to drive everyone away, her anger mostly focuses on her ex-boyfriend and a new guy at the school who is determined to break through to her. All of this is a thankless task as she spends 212 (out of 214) pages being a calculating witch to everyone around her.

Now, I really am afraid of the people who are going to take me to task with statements like "I really related to her" and so on. If you can relate to Parker, then you must be something of a sociopath...and a very scary individual. The point of a story like this is mostly to show the dead end nature of self-loathing (and to eventually show the character overcoming their problems and going through some sort of rebirth). At least, that's the only reason I can see for trudging through the sheer nastiness of a story like this. We want to know what could make a nice girl become so mean and how she'll break out of it. The irony that you begin to realize, though, is that Parker was never a nice person. A self-absorbed perfectionist, she seemed (even in her better days) to enjoy belittling people and promoting herself. This insecurity combusts though when faced with the reality that she too can become vulnerable and fail. The lesson, Summers would like to teach us, is that hedonism at this scale is self-destructive. As such, there shouldn't be a soul out there that wants to follow the example.

So, is it a good book? Summers is a decent writer and the whole thing comes across authentically. The story is complex and thus engaging. But again, this is hardly a book that one reads for pleasure. The main character is so nasty and so mean that I was writing her off early. And in the end, the explanation for her pathology seemed pathetic after all of the wind-up leading to it. I never quite had the pay off that I needed to reimburse me for the time spent enduring the character. So, how do you rate a well-written story about a character that you despised? If you don't mind despicable heroines, then you might like the book. As folks who've read my other reviews know, I have to like my characters (or at least see something redeeming in them) to make it worth the effort to learn about their lives. Parker Fadley doesn't deserve my time.

The Sweet Life of Stella Madison, by Lara M Zeises

Stella definitely has a pretty sweet life. The only daughter of two major big-name culinary figures, she has all the friends, fun, and looks a 17 year-old could ask for. But she's horribly conflicted by having to choose. On the one hand, there's her loyal and adoring boyfriend Max. On the other is the gorgeous intern that her mother's hired to work at the restaurant this summer. So what that he's nearly 21 and so what that Stella's idea of a great eat is a ball park frank instead of the haute cuisine promoted by her parents? These are minor complications! But as summer progresses, Stella struggles to figure out what she really wants.

Now, a book by one of my favorite authors (Zeises) with glowing reviews from two of my other faves (Dessen and Lockhart) on the book's cover has a lot to live up to, but I think the reviewers got it right: this is indeed "the perfect summer read" (Dessen) that is "full of broken hearts, broken promises, and broken eggs" (Lockhart). It is no instant classic and I'll probably forget the details quickly enough, but it fulfills all of your nutritional needs and leaves you with a full stomach.

In a book like this, it is all about the details. Sure, I'm not huge fan of long descriptions of the clothes she wears or the make up choices she makes (I rack that up to being a clueless guy!) and I can't stand it when a character totally abdicates on their responsibilities (e.g., Stella's pathological ability to ignore phone messages), but it is one of Zeises's skills as a writer and Stella's charms as a character that the book devotes so much attention to those details. The food angle itself is fun and Zeises explores it in all sorts of ways (from Stella's flirtation with food reviewing to the way that her Dad communicates through cooking). Finally, the side characters (while fairly stock) are humorous and an integral part of the story.

And then there is the smart writing. Zeises caught my eye with her absolutely outstanding novel Bringing Up the Bones. As I've already said, this book is hardly that sort of classic. However, even in a light read, Zeises combines wit and insight with some very down to earth moments when she needs to be. Stella is very much alive and strikingly authentic. And while she has that caustic wit that we expect from our summer reads (think Ruby Oliver), she never really forgets that she's a teen and not just some sit com character.

Wherever Nina Lies, by Lynn Weingarten

Two years ago, Ellie's older sister disappeared. And while Ellie has tried to follow her friends' advice and move on, it simply hasn't been possible. Instead, she wonders where her sister has gone. Then one day, while sorting through some old junk at a thrift shop, she finds a drawing that was obviously drawn by her sister in an old book. This leads her to other clues and also to a hot guy named Sean. And at a speed that takes her breath away, Ellie is off on a cross-country road trip with Sean following a trail of clues that she hopes will lead her to her sister. A romance sizzles and things get interesting....

I'll start by talking about the first two hundred pages of this book, which unfold in a fairly traditional YA sort of way: with a few small exceptions, Weingarten has spun a beautiful and lyrical story of loss and rebirth. It's really quite breathtaking how well she writes. The party scenes got a bit jumbled for my tastes, but I really got under Ellie's skin and could see how her obsession both drove her and humanized her. The romance with Sean (and her friend Amanda's seeming jealousy about it) is also really nicely done and I totally got into the characters. If the story had ended on that note, I would be easily claiming that this life-affirming story was one of the best of the year.

*SPOILER ALERT* But unfortunately the story does not end there. Starting around page 224 (about where a good book like this ought to end), Weingarten decided to kick the story up a notch and take it from angst into creepy. Now, if you like suspense and psychos and icky stuff like that, then this is probably where the book starts to redeem itself. But from my perspective, this is where the story goes downhill. Sean, who admittedly had some bad vibes around him, suddenly becomes ultra psycho and pulls out a gun and the whole thing falls into melodrama. I'm left wondering why? Why take a carefully crafted tale with some really interesting characters on an interesting quest and plunge the story into a third act of silliness (and it isn't just the violence, but the terrible implausibilitty that the story falls back on)? It seems like Weingarten, having written a wonderful story, had run out of ideas and didn't know where to go with it. So, she took it over the edge. But it's more than a bizarre twist in the story, it's also a total decline in the quality of the writing. The ending (starting on page 294) should be skipped altogether as it adds nothing to the story. Rather than conclude the story, we are treated to a slow motion replay of the story with all of the gaps filled in (written at the level of a TV sitcom). This is especially jarring when contrasted with the smart writing at the beginning.

So, I'll have to issue a split verdict on this book (and probably upset the book's fans): I really loved the first 2/3 of it and was looking forward to praising it. However, the switch of genre from YA family interrelationship novel to psycho thriller was too abrupt for me (and unwelcome). If you like thrillers than you'll probably like the ending too, but I not only didn't like the switch, I felt that the actual quality of the writing declined in that last section.

That said, the first part holds out so much promise that I will be interested in Weingarten's next book and hope for better luck with it. She does good angsty stuff and I'd like to see more of it.

Karma for Beginners, by Jessica Blank

Tessa has spent most of her 14 years being dragged around the country by her Mom, as Mom has searched to find her "soul mate." Now they have ended up in Upstate New York at an ashram where Mom buries herself in worship and Tessa feels bored and forgotten. Enter a handsome 20-year-old mechanic and, before you can say "statutory rape," there's romance brewing. But karma has a way of coming around and getting you. Music from the 70s and 80s features in prominently.

I have reservations about historical novels, especially ones placed in the 80s (as we well know, the 80s rocked seriously, but how lazy is it to be a 30-something writer and placing your YA story in the era we grew up in?) and I'm a bit tired of the child-abandonment theme in YA (lousy parenting is hardly inspiring), so this number has a couple of things going against it. I'll also nail this story for all of the attention it lavishes on (old) music (how excited can anyone -- except for the DJ on my favorite radio station -- get over Neil Young?) and drugs (tripping on LSD is really only interesting if you're the one doing it or so I'm told). So let's switch to what is good.

There's some nice character development in both mother and daughter and the parallel growth (or regression) of both characters is interesting. Their dynamic, while volatile, is more interesting to watch than most YA mother-daughter slug fests. There were plenty of characters I wanted to get to know better, which is frustrating but also the sign of a strong writer.

In the end, I'm not so sure that the story took me anywhere new and I found it dull.

Escape Under the Forever Sky, by Eve Yohalem

Lucy Hoffman lives a life to which very few of us could relate. As the daughter of the US ambassador to Ethiopia, she lives in relative luxury, but is trapped within the walls of the American compound. Let out only occasionally (for school and a tour of the safari), she longs for some freedom and a little adventure. But when she is kidnapped, she gets more of that adventure than she bargained for. Escaping is only her first challenge, as she must now survive somehow in the harsh wilds of Ethiopia.

This is one of those marvelous middle readers that combines some decent adventure and suspense with lots of local color and charm (creating both entertainment and education). To an adult reader, it is fairly obvious that Yohalem is dumping large dollops of personal experience and favorite tales (often haphazardly) into the story, but the narrative moves so quickly that it never bogs the story down. If anything, the story seems a bit intense for the lower end of the 8-12 age range it is being pitched at, but age-appropriateness is not really something I follow too much about. Children will enjoy this book for the suspense and excellent story-telling. I enjoyed it for being both entertaining and enlightening.

Hate List, by Jennifer Brown

On May 2, 2008, Valerie's boyfriend Nick gunned down a series of their classmates and teachers in the school cafeteria before shooting Val and himself. Val survived the gunshot, but not the notoriety. In the months that followed, she went from suspect to victim to outcast, and no one (not her parents, her former friends, or even herself) could manage to forgive or even understand what had happened. In painful detail, Brown traces Valerie's path to recovery and her attempt to repair her life.

An extremely dark and depressing story, Brown sets up a formidable obstacle in the shape of a grieving teen and a community that is hell bent on seeing her suffer. And it is all dragged out for quite some bit (over 400 pages) as one horrific thing happens to Val after another. Consider yourself duly warned.

This is good stuff and the story is important. The closing messages about the meaning of hate are inspirational and redeem the suffering in the story, but it is a very long path. I'd argue that the story needed some editing and shortening, that the points were made too often, and that certain digressions (like a wonderful art teacher character who never quite forms into a meaningful addition to the story) could have been left out. Brown also got bored with her characters at times and rushed the story forward (the important ending is itself terribly rushed) leading to an uneven narrative.

Girlfriend Material, by Melissa Kantor

A bit late in the season, but what screams Summer read louder than a teen romance on the beach? In this case, it's Cape Cod and Kate and her mother have fled here from Utah while her Mom sorts out things with Dad. At first, Kate absolutely doesn't want to be here (having been dragged away from her tennis, a writing class, Dad, and her friend). Things don't start off well as their hosts' daughter snubs Kate pretty strongly and Kate is left to spend the days by herself. Gradually, she makes some friends and things improve. The love interest (Adam) helps her mood much more and a youngster taking tennis lessons from her adds some wisdom from the mouth of a babe. As one would expect, it all wraps up nicely in the end with a few minor surprises.

The formulaic nature of the book is, of course, part of its charm. You don't pick up a book like this expecting to be surprised. Not that there aren't a few of those: Kate's got a nice literary thing going (strangely enough, with Hemingway -- not usually the focus of teen girls) and the tennis student is a surprisingly strong character. Still, this is a book that needed heavier editing: the mother-daughter interaction barely reaches out of stereotypes, the subplot about the parental marital difficulties is weak, Kate's relationships with just about everyone (sister, best friend, new friends, and even boyfriend) are sketchy and undeveloped. The other characters (and the plot itself) works best as an instrument to allow Kate to narrate to us. And she's a fantastically dry and cynical narrator. I laughed several times. For a bit of warm Summery feeling, this book is the right sort of material.

Pure, by Terra Elan McVoy

It was so easy for Tabitha to decide to wear a purity ring and make a pledge to keep her body chaste until marriage. The preacher who led the rally was persuasive and her friends were all doing it. But in retrospect, Tabitha isn't so sure now what it was supposed to mean. She has no intention of breaking her vow, but when she finds out that one of her friends did and that now her other friends have shunned the vow-breaker, Tabitha begins to question what the right thing to do. The answer isn't easy to figure out because Tabitha wants to be both moral and loyal, kind and forgiving, but true to her values.

A few reviews back, I said I was laying down a gauntlet for a YA writer to address conscience and religious faith in a mature and respectful fashion. Had I realized that the challenge would be answered so quickly (and in fact was already sitting in my to-read pile), I would have just hurried off to read this book! McVoy really hits the subject soundly and firmly. Tabitha (by her own admission) is no Bible-thumper but she struggles with what her faith tells her. A significant part of this story is devoted to her search for the Truth, which she gets help on from her pastor, her parents, her friends, and some independent research. None of this is ever mocked (or glorified). Instead, it is a fact of her life -- an integral part of her character. And, if organized religion makes you uncomfortable, you needn't be bothered too much by this element of the story because it is hardly shoved down your throat.

Now, that element of the story itself was wonderful, but there is so much more going on here. The entire culture of the promise rings was new territory for me, so I found it fascinating. There's some great dynamics between Tabitha and her friends and you really feel for these young women as each of them struggle with their consciences and with their conflicts. As a guy, I'll admit that the digressions about shopping and make-up made my eyes glaze over, but even these have a distinct point in the story (and I loved the fact that Tabitha's Dad actually has a talent for picking out clothes -- how often do you see a non-clueless father in YA?).

There are a lot of other elements to this story and I imagine that this would make an excellent book for discussion. That in itself should be considered a mark of approval.

The gratuitous mention of Quakers on page 242 does no harm either.

September Sisters, by Jillian Cantor

As this story opens, Abby's father is about to tell her the fate of her younger sister who disappeared two years ago. But before we can find out, the story jumps back to the moment of her sister's disappearance and walks us through what has happened in the interim. As a result, we have the knowledge that there will be resolution of this story to come (but we simply do not know what it is). The result is a heavy gloom over this story of loss, grieving, and a family coming apart.

The way the story unfolds will not surprise anyone. Abby's mother falls into madness, her father grows protective and clingy, her friends drift away, and Abby herself fights loneliness and abandonment. A lone bright spot is the boy who moves in next door and provides a brief romantic spark.

The book is well-written, but hardly original. To its credit, the book doesn't drag nearly as much as it probably should (having stretched this story out over 350 pages), but it just doesn't have much to say. What was the point of the story? Did we learn anything new about grief? Or about the process of healing? Were we entertained? The truth is that this story has been told before. Telling it again, without anything new to add seems like an empty exercise.

Sister Wife, by Shelley Hrdlitschka

Following the long tradition of books written about teenage girls growing up in polygamist religious sects, this is a story of three young women who struggled with their faith and (moreover) with the restrictions with which they live. There are the usual stereotypes -- the greedy and corrupt leader, the angry father, the weak mother, and (of course) the doubting (and unbelievably worldly) young women. Two twists make this novel a little different: it is told by three different narrators (the doubting Celeste who wants to marry a boy her own age, her younger sister and fervent believer Nanette, and the worldly outsider Tavianna); and there is a subplot about a pagan worshipper who erects stone statues and imparts the (author's obviously) preferred spiritual alternative.

To set the record straight, I would certainly have a bone to pick with a polygamist faith, but these types of books are so intolerant of organized religion altogether that they are hard to read. No attempt is ever made to understand the faith (Nanette's beliefs are largely ridiculed as naivete). Instead, we just get an endless history of injustices and hypocrisy which are portrayed as the pillars of the faith. As this religion is described, it is nearly impossible to imagine why anyone would follow these beliefs. A straw man villain is a terrible cop out.

I will lay down a literary gauntlet: I want to see a YA novel that takes a perfectly reasonable faith and portrays why people like it, avoids any opium-of-the-masses or aren't-these-folks-so-dumb-and-gullible plot lines, and shows a young person struggling with that faith for real. We're talking nice subtle crisis of faith stuff. I'd bet big money that young people (and adults) would really relate to a story like that. The closest I've seen so far is the novel Converting Kate, which easily left this exploitative book in the dust!

The Girl Who Could Fly, by Victoria Forester

In Lowland County, things are done pretty much as they always have been done. So, when Piper McCloud starts floating around and then starts to actually fly, the McClouds are fit to be tied. They do their best to keep things a secret, but when all is revealed, the government shows up and everyone agrees that it is best if Piper goes off to a special institute for special children. This institute, while first seeming like a paradise to Piper, reveals its true colors as a prison where each child's special talents is driven out of them. Once they realize what is going on, she and the other children become determined to find a way to preserve their talents and escape.

While vaguely reminescent of the X-Men franchise (or the first movie at the least), this is a gentler story - geared more to middle readers. It's a pleasant read but rather derivative -- a secret base in the arctic, an evil matron, a child named Boris Yeltsinov (!), the silly simple-minded country bumpkins, and so on. Some of this is for satirical purposes, but it also seems lazy. The characters are flat, the story formulaic, and the most interesting subplots (the mysterious J, for example) are left unfinished. It's a fair enough read, but nothing spectacular.

I also share the opinion of a blog I read (and I apologize that I don't remeber which one) that complained about the portrayal of Piper's parents and the people of Lowland County. It is a tiring (and offensive) act to depict rural people as simple-minded and prejudiced. Rather it says an awful lot about the prejudices and narrow-mindedness of the writer. Satire has its place, but this is just mean.

Say the Word, by Jeannine Garsee

Shawna was abandoned by her mother at the age of 7, when Mom ran off with her lesbian lover. Eleven years later, when Mom is dying, Shawna gets an opportunity to see her before she dies and begins to discover what happened to her mother after she left them. But this attempt at reconciliation is quickly overshadowed by her father's moves to seek revenge for the abandonment. As Dad's actions threaten the safety and sanity of everyone around them, Shawna slowly begins to realize the things that have been happening around her are not right, and that she must take a stand.

The fact that the book is inevitably hurtling towards a happy(-ish) conclusion is about the only thing that kept me going through this masochistic love fest. The father is a horrible person and the daughter is not much better. Page after page of selfishness and meanness is barely mitigated by Shawna's incessant crying and self-pity (woe is me! woe is me! My Mom was a terrible dyke and hated me!). Give me a break! By 150 pages in, I was developing a true hatred for Shawna. What kept me going to the end was a need to see her (1) grow up; (2) lose her homophobia; (3) get a clue; and (4) become a decent person. I'll ruin the ending slightly by saying that she sort of does these things...but really, there's making your heroine a bit flawed to make her interesting and there's creating a mean nasty witch who almost deserves her nasty abusive father. (Wow! I obviously have issues, here, don't I?)

That said, I read the entire book, so I obviously didn't hate the story (I just hated the characters). I'm not sure I learned much from reading it, but it certainly sucked me in. The author apparently intends the focus to be on how Shawna struggles between trying to be pleasing and containing her anger (and I certainly got that Shawna has anger management issues), but I think the story had a lot more to say about how people who refuse to listen to each other create their own misery. If the reader can pick up that message, they'll have gotten something useful from it. What you will have to put up with is an anwful lot of yelling, a bunch of angry people, and some real nastiness.

Return to Sender, by Julia Alvarez

When Tyler's father is injured, his parents start talking about selling the farm, which worries Tyler because he has had too much loss lately (his grandfather has recently passed away and his older brother is leaving for college). Instead, his parents hire three Mexican men to help. The men turn out to be a godsend ("angels" as Tyler's Mom refers to them) but bring along with them three young girls (the eldest of which, Mari, is 11 years old, the same age as Tyler). At first, Tyler doesn't want to have anything to do with them and when he finds out that the men are illegal aliens, Tyler grows upset that his parents are breaking the law. But as time passes, Tyler gets to know them better and develops a close friendship with Mari.

Alvarez's political agenda hangs heavy over this book. The book's title itself is an allusion to a US campaign to crack down on illegals during the mid-2000s and the entire structure of the book is engineered to criticize that policy. Whatever your feelings may be on the subject of immigration, the doctrinaire nature of the storytelling was very distracting to me. Truth be told, I rarely have much patience for books with an axe to grind. It seems to me that there are really only two possibilities -- you are either preaching to the choir or you are offending someone (who probably won't finish the book anyway!). Either way, it is condescending to the reader, especially in a story geared towards younger teens as this one is. Save the politics for older readers who can engage the issues intelligently!

Putting that complaint aside, the story itself holds up reasonably well. The side characters are a bit weak (many of them are there to serve political aims) but Tyler and Mari are nicely developed. I especially liked that their friendship remain platonic and the author didn't feel the need to create a romantic spark. The bilingual narrative is unobtrusive and adds nice color to the story. The plot itself moves along at a brisk pace and is quite entertaining.

Dussie, by Nancy Springer

When Dussie Gorgon hits puberty, she discovers a nasty surprise. No, it's not what you think! She wakes up to find that her head has sprouted a set of serpents! Not quite expecting this turn of events, she turns to her mother for a heart-to-heart talk and discovers that she is,, in fact, a gorgon (and named after her late aunt, Medusa). After she mistakenly turns her crush Troy (!) into stone, it's time to call together the sisterhood (Sphinx, Aunt Stheno, and the Lamia sisters). After all, they may all live in New York now (where anything can happen), but turning your classmates into statues and having the worst hair in your class could really ruin your school career.

A clever and engaging book. The whole turning-into-a-monster thing is actually a clever way to adress girls' anxieties about puberty, and there is a nice mixture of serious chat about changing bodies with the humor. I imagine that this would make an excellent choice for a mother-daughter book club. For the rest of us, the book is still a real fun read. The characters are nice, the snakes are funny, and it all wraps satisfactorily (while avoiding cheap feel good stuff at the end). A nice read.

Take Me There, by Susane Colasanti

Three students at Eames, a magnet school in NYC, give their personal perspectives on the events of a week. There's Rhiannon, who has just been dumped by her boyfriend Steve and desperately wants him back. And her friend Nicole who is seriously infatuated with her math teacher (but harbors some dark secrets that could complicate things). And finally James, who wishes that Rhiannon would notice him and forget about Steve. Told in half weeks by each teen in turn, this story revolves around the idea that the events are not really clear until all three voices are heard. As a result, the reader stays just enough in the dark throughout to not get too far ahead of the characters.

It's a clever idea (and actually better implemented than your typical shifting-narrator story), but I found it uneven. For the idea to work properly, the story really has to be the same but simply fleshed out differently by each character. But in this case, Colosanti achieves suspense simply by omitting key details in each account. As a result, you really wouldn't be able to clue out what is going on because you are missing information all the way up to the end. The result is confusion and a lot of work for the reader. Add some pretty inane slang and characters who never come alive, and I found this a hard book with which to engage.

A Map of the Known World, by Lisa Ann Sandell

After Cora's brother is killed in a car accident, Cora finds her relationships with others changing (her dad has withdrawn, her Mom has grown clingy, and her best friend seems so shallow now). When Cora discovers her brother's secret art studio, she becomes obsessed with bringing his artwork to the public eye. Her own artistic talents bring her attention from the art teacher who suggests that she apply for an art scholarship in London (much to her mother's horror). Trying to piece all of this together, she creates a map of her known world to describe the new complexities of her life.

This is well-written, but the storyline is so well-worn (dead brother? please!) with all the usual tropes (unfair parents, sneaking around, etc.) that the ending should surprise no one. If you haven't read a YA-death book yet, this is a nice one to start with. If you've already had your fill, this one doesn't really cover new ground.

A Certain Strain of Peculiar, by Gigi Amateau

After several years of abuse from her peers, Mary becomes convinced that the only way she is ever going to cope is to be allowed to move back to her Mom's hometown in Wren AL to live with her grandmother. Her Mom isn't too keen on the idea, so 13 year-old Mary steals her Mom's car and drives there herself (from Virginia!). Once in Wren, though, Mary discovers that her troubles have a tendency to follow her as she struggles with bullying and her inability to fit in. She is drawn to the two children of her Mom's old flame - Dixie and Delta - both of whom have what grandma calls their "certain strain of peculiar."

Complex and fulfilling story that pulls off some of the nice atmospheric magic that Amateau created in Claiming Georgia Tate. This book has a wide variety of amusing subplots that create that colorful cultural homage to the Deep South that is almost a requirement in literature (wise old women, respectful gentlemen, mischievous kids) since Mark Twain. Thankfully, we avoid the more obvious stereotypes in this case. I personally didn't find this particular effort all that exciting, but there is a chance that it may speak to you more than it did to me.

Ash, by Malinda Lo

In this altered version of the story of Cinderella, Ash is the orphaned daughter who is indentured to her stepmother and daughters because of her father's debts. There's all the cruel abuse from her former family, the denied ball, the dance with the gallant prince, and plenty of magic. But there is also a debt to a fairy, a beautiful huntress, and a very unexpected love story (let's just say that it isn't with the prince!).

Lo's retelling of the story is more of a riff on the entire genre of fairy tales, pulling in a wide variety of tales (and tales within tales) to tell at least two stories: first, the give a nice reinterpretation of what a fairy tale's meaning truly is about; and second, to speak of a friendship which is deeper and more important than any Disney romance has ever dreamed up for it. Lo very quickly focuses our attention on the dark side of these stories and, as for the romantic princess stuff, she directly criticises that as well (one of her heroines opines that she'd love to be a princess, just as long as it didn't involve having to marry a prince! and, in another case, the story finds Ash advising one of her evil step sisters to seek more from life than marriage). If this were really an attempt to tell the Cinderella story, this modern interventions would be distracting, but for Lo's grander mission, they fit in just fine.

It's not all smooth sailing. I found the beginning to be a bit of a drag to get through and the constant recitations of fairy tales didn't always interest me, but in retrospect everything had its place and its purpose. The strengths of this book are far more important: originality, compelling characters, and strong narrative. Most of all: being surprised along the way as the story I knew well could turned in directions that had never occurred to me.

The Treasure Map of Boys, by E. Lockhart

This third outing in Lockhart's Ruby Oliver series picks up where the second one ended. Ruby is weighing her feelings about at least three boys (Noel, Jackson, and Hutch) plus a few others on the side, and feeling a bit like an emotion ping-pong ball. Ag. And a bit like a teen-aged Woody Allen, Ruby is struggling to articulate all of this to her therapist. But what she can't say out loud, she is perfectly capable of expression in some of the most hilarious prose in YA.

It would be tempting to complain that the Ruby Oliver franchise was worn out by now, but that really is not the case, and it deserves a little exploration. In my mind, there are at least two things that make this third book an unusual example of a sequel that is better than the original. First of all, Lockhart has so much fun with Ruby and she is such a greal narrator that you really can't stop wanting to hear from her (the footnotes alone had me in stitches in the middle of the airport lounge at SEA-TAC). More importantly, this is much more than a re-tread of the previous books. Lockhart is very subtly showing us Ruby growing up. Yes, she is still a little bit neurotic and anxious, but she goes through some serious maturing in her perspectives about friendship (and boys) in this novel. We are not stuck just getting the same old Ruby as we saw in the first and second books. In sum, Lockhart scores again!

Watersmeet, by Ellen Jensen Abbott

Because of her dark skin and the lack of a father, Abisina has always been an outcast in her town of Vranville. But when an evil beast (disguised as a beautiful enchanting prophet) named Charrach shows up at her village, things change for the worse. Abisina must now flee for her life, in search of the mythical city of Watersmeet where she hopes to find both allies and her father. She finds both allies and enemies along the way, but even when she arrives at the site of her quest, the stakes increase and her mission becomes one of saving her world and bearing witness to a battle that will settle the injustices of her past or enshrine them forever.

A colorful and interesting setting, full of a wide variety of characters, Abbott has created the requisite world for an engrossing fantasy. But she also has greater ambitions than simply telling an action tale. As Abisina reaches Watersmeet, the story shifts from being a quest to becoming a philosophical piece about forgiveness and the cost of war. This is a valiant effort to provide depth to a hack-and-slay fantasy story. However, it didn't work for me. Abbott would like to use Abisina's inability to forgive to illustrate human foibles, but mostly it makes the character seem shallow and the sequences where she struggles with her desire for vengeance just seem like wasted time. The problem is that you can't really tell a war story and a forgiveness tale simultaneously (after all, they are contradictory notions) -- either the folks are going to fight or they aren't. And a YA fantasy is not a good pasture on which to breed indecision. Rather than establishing depth to the story, it read like waffling. And since we know that the characters are going to kill things at the end, all of this talk about peace is basically an empty gesture. That said, the book is impressive and opens all sorts of options for a sequel, so I imagine we'll be hearing more from Abisina. And that might not be all that bad.

Selkie Girl, by Laurie Brooks

Out on the Orkney Islands, Elin has always stood out as a bit different from the others. It is not simply the webbing on her hands, but also her strong tie to the sea and the Selkies who live out there. The truth is that she is the offspring of a Selkie mother who was captured sixteen years ago. Now, in one fateful evening, she helps her mother escape and flees herself into the sea. But as a half-breed, she stands out even in the sea. With time, she comes to understand that her heritage comes with both liabilities and strengths, and that she has a destiny to bring her two worlds to a better understanding of each other.

While largely a fantasy, Brooks also has a strong ecological agenda in this story. Overall, the story itself works. It is original, the characters are string, and Brooks has infused the book with lots of local charm. But it is tough going. Perhaps there is too much local charm (the lingo takes some getting used to) or perhaps the story just takes a long time to kick in. In short, I found this hard to read and easy to get lost in.

Reality Check, by Peter Abrahams

Cody has dreams of becoming a professional football player and he's started to be noticed by the scouts. But when he is injured, all those dreams come crashing down. Depressed, he quits school and starts working real jobs. Meanwhile, his girlfriend Clea has been sent away to an expensive boarding school in Vermont by her protective father who doesn't want the girl hanging around with Cody. Cody is thinking his life can't get much worse until word reaches him that Clea has gone missing! Cody decides to go to Vermont to join the search for her and gets far more than he bargained for in the process.

A suspense thriller about a football player -- not my usual cup of tea, but I'm expanding my horizons a bit! As is to be expected, a bit too much action and a bit too little thinking and emoting for my tastes, but this is a pretty good story if action is your interest. Cody is surprisingly well-drawn. Never too bright or too dumb, he does most of the right things and is a decent, sympathetic character. Abrahams does less well with the female characters, but he seems to have the gruff outcast male thing down well.

Because I Am Furniture, by Thalia Chaltas

Anke is completely invisible in her family, but in her family that is probably a good thing. To be noticed would make her a target for abuse, which he liberally dishes out to her brother and sister. Watching her family being destroyed, Anke wonders why she cannot find the strength to speak out. In the end, after gaining confidence through a volleyball team she has joined, she is able to confront her father and save her family.

Verse novels, as I have often observed, are either insightful and touching or superficial and trite. The plot of this one -- heavy and oppressive as it sounds -- certainly carries the promise of being moving. But the verse itself is so thinly written that it never really hits the target. As a result, this book never quite lived up to my expectations.

Going Too Far, by Jennifer Echols

When Meg and her friends get busted trespassing on a dangerous railroad bridge, they get sentenced to having to spend their Spring Break riding along with local safety officers. Meg is horrified to learn that she is going to be stuck with the cop that arrested them in the first place. But what starts as mutual disgust blossoms into romance as the two of them discover each others' vulnerabilities.

This is actually somewhat better literature than the synopsis of the trashy plot would make it sound. Still, this book never did much for me. The characters are well-developed and the story stays on focus, so this is technically proficient writing. However, I didn't find much heat in the romance and found the story itself dull. I suspect that it is a complete matter of taste and your results may certainly differ.

The School for Dangerous Girls, by Eliot Schrefer

Angela has established a reputation for herself of being incorrigible. And when she goes to stay with her grandfather and he dies, she gets blamed for that. Her parents have given up hope and decide to send her to Hidden Oaks, a school for "dangerous" girls. The institution, which is cleverly disguised as a tough love rehabilitation school, is actually a prison where the girls are systematically broken down. Now, Angela and her fellow inmates must find a way to escape at all costs.

This book takes trashy to whole new level. The story came highly recommended to me so as I read it, I kept expecting some sort of vindication for the effort, but in the end it never came. This is complete garbage. The characters are stupid and foolish, and hardly believable. The story is implausible in the extreme and full of holes. The premise is offensive. I could go on but I'd rather not. I'd really prefer to get back several hours of my life instead. Consider yourself warned.

Peace, Love, and Baby Ducks, by Lauren Myracle

In this riff on sibling bonds, Myracle gives us the typical girl-chases-the-wrong-boy story. It's formulaic and we all know that she'll end up with the right boy at the end, but there's a lot more going on. Really, this is the story of Carly and her younger sister Anna, having their ups and down, but coming through for each other in the end.

As a story, there are lots of problems, among which are a meandering narrative and way too many subplots and threads. The book, in sum, is way too busy. Ironically, like so many other stories that race around, this one really doesn't say much in the end (friends come and go, but sisters are forever?). It's a sweet story and if you are just in the mood to read a book about two nice girls who look out for each other, this isn't a bad read, but there's not much here.

But, at least unlike Jodi Picoult, we can skip the lawsuit bit. :)

It's Not You, It's Me, by Kerry Cohen Hoffmann

The title of this book is just about the only line that Henry does not use on Zoe when he unceremoniously dumps her. The novel then traces, in cringe-inducing day-by-day detail the process that Zoe goes through to get over him. It's a story that is probably familiar to almost all of us (although some of Hoffman's target audience may not yet have had the pleasure) but it's still an important story.

This spare and short novel (170 or so large-print pages) holds no special surprises. Instead, it has modest ambitions and focuses on delivering on them. Hoffman has previously established a reputation for honest and frank autobiography and this wise tome has the tone of an earnest woman-to-girl chat. Yet, moving beyond the voyeuristic quality of the story, there are more universal themes addressed here about self-respect and picking-oneself-up, so almost anyone can enjoy the story. For those who believe that books can teach and entertain, this is decent ammunition.

Willow, by Julia Hoban

Seven months ago, driving the family car in stormy weather, Willow lost control of the vehicle. The accident killed her parents. Now, she lives with her older brother, his wife, and their infant daughter, and she tries to cope with her feelings of guilt and responsibility for the deaths of her parents. Mostly, she cuts herself, which she realizes is wrong but which gives her a release that helps her deal with her fears. Enter a guy named Guy who takes an interest in her and, when he realizes what she is doing to herself, tries to help her recover. But recovery is a longer road than either of the teens initially realize.

A surprisingly effective and original story on a topic which had pretty much seemed overdone. Cutting is not a pretty thing and Hoban avoids easy solutions, so this ought to be a difficult book to read, but instead it is quite moving and inspiring. The love story that develops between Willow and Guy is authentic and organic, full of emotional complexity with great respect for the feelings they are experiencing (a scene where Guy witnesses Willow cutting herself is particularly dramatic). I wanted some sort of real adult intervention or a happier ending, but Hoban is wise to avoid these easy outs. Instead, we learn that self-mutiliation is something that can be practiced consciously even by a wise and self-aware young woman. Striking! This book should become the new classic on the subject.

The Chosen One, by Carol Lynch Williams

Thirteen year-old Kyra lives in an isolated polygamist compound with her mothers and siblings. She's accepted for most of her life that everything around her (the isolation, patriarchy, authoritarian leaders, etc.) are natural, but she still has an independent streak that leads her to sneak out and read books and carry on a clandestine relationship with a boy her age in the compound. When it is announced that she must marry her uncle (who is 50 years older than her), she rebels. In rebellion, she discovers the ugly side of her community and her faith.

A suspenseful and fast-paced novel that pulls out most of the usual stereotypesabout cults and isolated sects (no major originality here!) and obviously inspired by real-life events of a year ago. Kyra makes a symapthetic and intelligent heroine, but I never got a sense for why she stayed around as long as she did (the answers are fairly obvious - family and faith - but nothing is really drawn out in this story). This made her motivations a bit muddled and I found myself mostly tracking the story and waiting for the great escape that I was sure would come. The result is that the book is decent entertainment but won't really get you inside of anyone's head. for a better example of a similar story, see The Patron Saint of Butterflies.

Love (and other uses for duct tape), by Carrie Jones

Belle and Em are in their last months of High School. Living in small town Maine, there might not seem to be a lot to do, but there is certainly a lot going on in Belle's mind. For example, there's the unfinished business of a dead father, a mother who mangles the words to songs on purpose, a boyfriend who is afraid to push Belle into having sex (even though she wants to be pushed), and - to top it all - Em has found out she is pregnant. Lacking any traditional sense of narrative, Jones's novel explores friendship, identity, love, and (yes) duct tape.

There is an amazing depth to the characters in this book. Jones is obviously an expert in this department and has spared no effort in bringing as much into the story as she can. It comes, though, at the sacrifice of the story. Rather than be a story teller, Jones prefers creating an extended character study. These ones are interesting enough to make it almost work (and it might work for you), but I'm a traditionalist and I wanted something to happen that I could sink my teeth into.

As a side note: I was disappointed that Jones never developed the Mom's boyfriend's interest in 3-D photography. Such a unique opportunity!

Purge, by Sarah Darer Littman

When Janie ends up in a psychiatric hospital because of bulimia, she has a lot of time to reflect on what drove her to purging. Going through denial and grief, she eventually ends up in acceptance, but not before learning a lot about herself and her fellow sufferers.

The plot on this one is fairly predictable and follows a slew of other girl-in-mental-institution books. Littman brings in a few original elements (boys with eating disorders -- who knew?) and the characters are distinct and engaging enough. The dialog sounds good. Littman avoids preaching. This is all very good, but the story is so formulaic and concluded so smoothly that I didn't see the pooint of the exercise. We've had a fair share of these books already and this doesn't break new ground. So, if you've never read a book about bulimia, this is not a bad one to start with, but there are lots of fish in the sea.

If I Stay, by Gayle Forman

When Mia is tossed into a ditch from her parent's car during an accident, she initially thinks that she has miraculously survived without a scratch, but as she wanders around, she realizes that somehow she has left her comatose body and is now a passive observer of events. And the events are horrendous: both of her parents have died, her little brother is in unknown condition, and her her own body is badly mangled. So, while her physical body lies in a Portland ICU, Mia finds herself replaying her life and trying to decide if it is worth staying alive.

This is familiar enough territory and the author is good enough the acknowledge the usual suspects like Ghost, but also a bit different. For one thing, Mia is less concerned with the present than she is with the past. That makes for awkward storytelling as we are naturally far more interested in whether she will live or die than her out-of-order flashbacks over her life. And it does not help that the flashbacks themselves sometimes fail to contribute to the story in an obvious fashion. I found it hard to connect with Mia and parts of the story dragged for me. So, in the end, it never quite worked: being not as poignant as Forman intended nor enlightening or inspiring.

Alis, by Naomi Rich

At the age of 14, Alis is informed by her parents that she must marry the 40 year-old minister of their church. Determined to avoid this fate, she finds an excuse to travel to a nearby village to delay the nuptial and to put herself in a better position to run away. But the new village is far more dangerous and Alis's trouble quickly multiply until she is forced to flee for her life to the strange and hostile City, where she hopes to find a new life. The dangers continue to appear and by the end of the story, Alis's life is in danger.

While evocative of Shaker, Puritan, and Amish cultures, Rich has created a evocative world of faith and suspicion that is at once both familiar and different from our own. The customs are beautifully laid out and the story unfolds in a believable and compelling fashion. Yet Rich is wise to never quite specify that this is a real historical past, because it allows her greater freedom to develop events in her own way and leave the reader always a bit off-balance. Also, Alis's fierce self-determination would have seemed anachronistic in an "real" setting. So, while the story reminded me of The Shakeress and even a bit of The Return of Martin Guerre, Rich was free to take her heroine in far more interesting directions than either of those stories. The result is a hybrid of fantasy and historical fiction that is rewarding.

Anything But Typical, by Nora Raleigh Baskin

This unusual book attempts to put us inside the mind of a 12 year-old autistic boy named Jason Blake. The story is predictably sad as Jason recounts his struggles to be understood in the "neurotypical" world of mainstream society. Amidst the teasing of his peers and their rejection of his differences, Jason's joy is writing and he shows great talent in written language skills. And while is does well enough in school, he shines brightest on an online writer's group, where he meets a girl named Rebecca with whom he shares his stories. It's a wonderful relationship for Jason and helps him build confidence, until Jason's parents innocently reward him by offering to take him to a writers' convention (where, as it happens, Rebecca will also be). Now, Jason is terrified of how Rebecca will react when she sees what he is really like in the flesh.

For its target audience (10-14 year olds), it is a bit hard to see how this book will appeal. Autism is a tricky condition to understand for adults and young readers (unless they are familiar with autism) will find this a challenging story to follow. Still, this is something to be commended in stories like this that at least attempt to make such a character accessible. Baskin certainly does this, never glorifying Jason's struggles or flaws. Rather, we get a nicely nuanced story which allows the reader to both sympathize with Jason and with the people he deals with. There are no good guys or bad guys here, but simply people being themselves for better or worse. And the story wraps without recourse to either any feel good or tragic endings.

Something, Maybe, by Elizabeth Scott

Hannah has a Mom who spends the evening doing live chat with (paying) customers on the internet. And her estranged Dad is the star of a celebrity reality show which mostly features him cavorting with young bimbos not much older than his daughter. With that much notoriety, Hannah does her best to keep a low profile at school. But she would still like to get noticed by sensitive socially-conscious Josh while avoiding the wisecracks of annoying Finn -- both of whom work with her at a call center for BurgerTown. So when she finds herself thinking about Finn more than Josh, she'll be the last one to realize why.

Like meatloaf, this is a story that is as comforting as it is predictable. But like a good rom com, it has a great sense of humor, good pacing, and a sweet heart. Things will work out in the end when girl finds boy and parents live up to (or exceed) expectations. I had several good laugh out loud moments so I can definitely attest that it is funny. There are even some deep truths buried in the book for those who seek substance. But most of all, you will simply enjoy it -- and that's what a good summer read is all about.

The funny thing is that I haven't been all that taken by Scott's previous books. Neither Bloom or Perfect You did that much for me (although they were admittedly good mind candy) and Living Dead Girl creeped me out too much. I think, at last, the author has found a perfect balance or wit, romance, and serious observation. A winner!

Everything Beautiful in the World, by Lisa Levchuk

With Edna's mother in the hospital fighting cancer, she gets excused from pretty much everything she doesn't want to do (going to class, visiting her sick mother, etc.) and is indulged by her father (who gives her a sports car). And when her art teacher (for whom she's always had a crush) starts to flirt with her, she thinks things are pretty good. The relationship, however, leaves her more unsettled and the lack of boundaries (or attention from responsible adults) makes things worse.

A strange story with a poorly developed ending. Levchuk is probably producing an autobiographical confessional here (the story is placed in the early 1980s), but aside from confronting her childhood traumas, it is not clear what purpose the story serves. Edna's behavior appears largely random. Her impulses, while natural enough for her age, are exaggerated and irrational. This suggests some form of mental illness, but left unexplained, they basically confuse the reader. For me, this made the story disjointed to the point of being plain annoying. I'd suggest giving it a miss.

For those who do read the book, I have a question: why did Levchuk choose "Roxanne" as the book's theme song rather than the far more obvious "Don't Stand So Close To Me"?

Graceling, by Kristin Cashore

Katsa is a graceling -- a person endowed with a particular skill that makes them stand out from others. Katsa's skill gives her the ability to defeat just about anyone she comes in conflict with. It's a skill that has made her very useful to King Randa, her uncle. But she has tired of being sent out to do randa's dirty work and longs for a higher calling. When she gets involved in saving the grandfather of a prince in another kingdom, she and the prince (named Po) forge a strong friendship based on their mutually compatible graces (Po is also an expert at combat) and their strong feelings for each other. However, the struggle they now undertake will stretch their talents and their loyalty to the outer limits.

Placed in a mythical land of seven kingdoms, this fantasy novel is surprisingly down-to-earth. On its face, it is a well-paced and exciting action tale with a satisfying conclusion. But Cashore has much higher ambitions for the work. Katsa and Po's struggle with both their graces and with their feelings for each other, are wonderfully familiar to anyone who has/is struggling with adolescence and much of the story works as a parable. The strong female characters are also a joy and show that Cashore (while she is happy to celebrate womanhood) feels no qualms about making her women and girls tough as nails when they need to be. The overall result is a surprisingly fast read and great summer escapism, but with substance and relevance not often found in fantasy books. Hooray!

Along for the Ride, by Sarah Dessen

On the spur of the moment, Auden decides to flee her demanding overachieving mother and spend her last Summer before college at the beach, with her father, stepmother, and their new baby. However, all is not peace and tranquility there either as her Dad (a paragon of passive-aggressive self-centeredness) is fleeing fatherhood and avoiding Auden as well. Auden copes with all of this as she usually does -- through avoidance (sense a theme to the dysfunction in this family?) and nocturnal exploration of the town. Along the way, she meets Eli, a loner with a past and a bike shop. Through their budding friendship, Auden learns to confront her bad habits, accept the faults of her parents, and conquer her fear of failure. She also learns how to ride a bike.

The arrival of a new Sarah Dessen novel is a Major Event and it took some will power to not devour this book the moment it came out (or, for that matter, to not offer abnormal sacrifices to the publicists at Viking to get an ARC). Dessen is, without a doubt, one of the very best YA writers alive and most of her books get my highest ratings. This one, unfortunately, is not one of them.

Sarah's had a baby recently. You'd know that if you read her BLOG, but you'd also know that simply by reading this book. The character of Thisbe (Auden's infant half-sister) plays a major role in the book. The reason is obvious: Dessen's own life is centered now around her own child so it is natural enough to want to share all of that with her readers. Fine and fair, but it makes for an odd focus in a YA story. And the frequency of the child-raising observations (how many times does Dessen remind us what Thisbe smells like? How many child raising tips somehow find their way into the novel?) suggests a high degree of distraction. Dessen would obviously prefer to be writing a story about the joys of motherhood. Also fine. But that is not the world of an 18-year girl and Auden (the book's alleged center) is frequently lost in the shuffle.

But moving on....the book is plagued with problems. Auden's relationship with Eli is strangely without spark, supporting characters lack either the draw or the humor of her previous novels, and the plot meanders around. The story itself is recycled, basically Auden and Eli are Annabel and Owen from Just Listen (but with a far less interesting dynamic). The ol' closed-suppressed- girl-learns-to-open-up-through-the-mysterious (but patient and kind)-boy plot is a winner and makes for lots of aw-shucks reading, but it is not original. Dessen can do a lot better.

All that said, Dessen on a bad day is pretty spectacular compared to the other writers out there. I may think Dreamland and Someone Like You are much better books, but none of that should detract from the fact that Dessen writes well, has a great ear for teens (Mid-Atlantic and Southern ones at least!), and creates some of the most beautiful literature out there.

Finally, for anyone who read the book: was anyone else bothered by the cover? Auden makes a big point of explaining how she is not a pink-wearing girly-girl, yet the young woman on the cover is decked out in a dress that Auden would not be caught dead in. What's with that?!

Ten Things I Hate About Me, by Randa Abdel-Fattah

Jamie is a normal 10th grader in a suburb of Sidney. But she's actually Jamilah, an Arab-Australian. Jamie dies her hair blonde and wears blue contact lenses to hide her true ethnic identity and avoid the brutal racist teasing of her peers. But she has a hard time denying that she's happiest when she's at home and can just be herself, even if she has an overprotective father and a dorky older brother.

The age of the protagonist suggests that this book is being targetted at the YA demographic but the rather pedantic portrayal of racism seems to indicate a middle-reader audience. Or perhaps racism is much more obvious in Australia? Or perhaps Abdel-Fattah simply does not expect her readers to be able to handle subtle? In any case, the whole thing seems a bit artificially constructed and manipulative. It's nice to have a story that explores Arab identity, but it could have been a lot more sophisticated.

1001 Cranes, by Naomi Hirahara

Twelve year-old Angie spends the Summer in Los Angeles with her grandparents, as her parents go through a separation. During her stay, she learns more about her Japanese heritage, helps her grandparents with their florist business, learns to fold 1001 origami cranes, gives comfort to an ailing neighbor, falls in love, and spends a lot of time observing adults not acting their best. An appendix even offers instruction to the curious about how to fold paper cranes.

The culture lessons come on a bit too fast and thick for me and I enjoyed this book best when it was just telling a story, rather than trying to introduce the reader to Japanese-American culture. Angie makes for an interesting and sympathetic heroine. She makes enough mistakes to believable and has flaws that a reader can relate to, yet her heart is in the right place. That's a strong sell for a book intended for middle readers. I also appreciated the ambiguous ending that didn't attempt to tie up all fo her struggles.

Absolutely Maybe, by Lisa Yee

Maybelline (or "Maybe" as her friends call her) has plenty of trouble relating to her beauty pageant mother, but the final straw happens when her Mom's boyfriend tries to rape her. Tossed out of the house by her suspicious mother, Maybe runs away to California with her two friends Ted (a flamboyant Thai-American) and Daniel (aka "Hollywood"). Hollywood is heading to LA anyway to pursue his dream of making award-winning documentary film and Tim quickly lands a job taking care of an aging movie actress. Maybe wants to find her biological father, who she believes is living somewhere in Southern California now. Along the way, she has to find herself as well.

The publisher claims this book is intended for 9-12 year olds. I don't buy that. Maybe 9th-12th graders, but the themes of this story (rape, homosexuality, abandonment, etc.) are pretty dark, no matter how comedic the story overall is. And that is my overall problem with this book. It has some very funny parts, but it mostly glances over the issues and ignores the ramifications of the actions it portrays. Other reviewers have accused the book of being unrealistic, but that doesn't quite capture the problem. At points, the book is quite realistic, but it's just as if Yee doesn't really want us to take the issues seriously (and if so, why bring them up?).

The story moves along at a good clip, but I found the characters a bit annoying and grating. Maybe and her friends (Ted and Hollywood) are extremely self-centered. Its supposed to add to the comedy, but mostly it fell flat for me -- I just wanted them to shut up. Jess, the girl who runs her own taco truck, is the most interesting character but mostly seemed borrowed from America Ferrera's character in Real Women Have Curves.

11 Birthdays, by Wendy Mass

It's been a year since Amanda stopped speaking to Leo. The two of them have shared a birthday (and birthday parties) since they were born, but at last year's party, Leo humiliated Amanda. This year, they are having separate parties and Amanda's day is horrible. But the worst part is that the day is never-ending. She wakes up the next morning to discover that the day is repeating itself. Every painful moment is happening all over again! And it will keep on repeating until Amanda (and Leo) can figure out how to make it stop.

Now, Groundhog Day is one of my favorite movies, so one has to have a soft spot for this particular niche genre. And since the target audience of this book probably hasn't (and won't) see Bill Murray doing this shtick, it's worth reading. But, even if the storyline isn't very original (and yes, the ending is pretty much the same as the movie), Mass does lovely work with these sort of supernatural stories (Jeremy Fink is a lovely example). She does great characters too and understands the tween mind well. Finally, the book passes the entertainment requirement: I started this while I was waiting in the dentist's office and completely forgot where I was and what I was doing. Later on, I found it irresistible and managed to finish it on the same day I started it. I recommend it for fun reading!

Twelve Long Months, by Brian Malloy

As the title suggests, this book tracks a year in the life of Molly Swain as she graduates from high school in rural Minnesota and starts her first year of college at Columbia University in NYC. Through this time, she has the companionship of Mark (her senior-year lab partner and then co-Minnesotan in NYC) who she has a crush on from the beginning. She also has two girls on her hall that she goes out drinking with a lot, and a boyfriend of sorts. Much girl-meets-boy, girl-loses-boy occurs, with the occasional dash of boy-meets-boy to keep things interesting.

In sum, this book contains interesting people who don't do very much that could be considered interesting. The purpose of the book is probably to teach us that friendship is forever, but it takes so long to get there that it really cannot be the reason to read all 300+ pages of this book. I wouldn't exactly call the book boring (because the characters are interesting and you'll want to find out what happens to them), but I wanted there to be a story in all this - in other words, something valuable that happens over those twelve long months!