Just One Day, by Gayle Forman

A chance meeting with a Dutch actor named Willelm in London, sends American high school grad Allyson on an impulsive trip to Paris with him.  The two of them spend a whirlwind day together, but in the morning he is gone.  Panicked by the abandonment, Allyson barely makes it home to the States.

For the next year, Allyson is obsessed with figuring out what happened.  And, not content to let the matter drop, she makes arrangements to return to Paris to look for Willem, a move that neither her friends or family understand.  But along the way, she comes to understand that this need to close a chapter in her life is about much more than a one day fling.

While it starts off as a variant of the Before Sunrise/Before Sunset story, Forman takes her tale of an impulsive love that becomes a year-long obsession into much deeper territory, exploring how chance meetings can change lives (and, in fact, cause us to reexamine all of the parts of our lives which we do plan) in a way that those movies never had the opportunity to explore.  And it's a well-written story with great character depth (surprising, given the large and diverse cast of characters that play parts in the story).  The pace is brisk, but various different settings (London, Paris, school life in Boston, and The Netherlands) are well-developed.

I enjoyed the read and the found it easy going, with one exception: the editing.  Nothing is more distracting than a well-written book which is edited horrendously.  Either Forman had a lousy copyeditor or she was too lazy to read her galleys, but when I can casually count over ten typos without even trying to notice them, one really has to wonder why anyone would take a book that otherwise represents a huge effort and release it so sloppily!

The Different Girl, by Gordon Dahlquist

Four girls live on a desert island with their two guardians.  Each day, they learn new things in their school about the world and their abilities.  Each night, their guardians put them to sleep.  Completely inseparable, the four girls communicate seamlessly with each other, sharing thoughts and completing each others' sentences.   It all seems normal until the day that a fierce storm comes and suddenly a new -- and very different -- girl is washed to the shore.

But it isn't just that the girl is different.  The island itself is changing and danger seems to be approaching quickly.  The guardians begin warning the girls that their very survival may be at risk.  And as previously unimagined dangers close in on the four girls, they come to rely on the new arrival to guide them.

An unusual, striking, and original story.  The mystery of the girls themselves and how they came to live on the island is very slowly unraveled (but is also a process which is never completed).  Instead, we are left with a story with many things unexplained.  The loose ends offer up a choice of interpretations to the reader.  Yet, given the situation, it is natural that a vast majority of the story's action occurs off-page and is beyond the ability of the narrator to explain to us.  Some readers may find that maddening, but I think it provides a fascinating dynamic for the reader to absorb, leaving us sometimes as bewildered as the four girls themselves.

Sophomore Switch, by Abby McDonald

As far as bad decisions go, Tasha's impulse to make out with a teen idol at a party ranks pretty high (especially when a video of the moment goes viral on the Web, earning her an international reputation as a sexual predator and all-round slut).  Desperate to get out of the limelight (and get away from California), she jumps at the opportunity to go on an academic exchange. Meanwhile, prim and hyper-organized Oxford undergrad Emily is less driven by recent events than simple bad luck.  Her application has gone astray and now there are few remaining opportunities for study abroad.  The chance to swap with an American girl attending UC Santa Barbara seems the best option she has.

Two totally different personalities swap places to the most inappropriate of choices.  But, as one would predict in a novel, the initial fish-out-of-water experience gradually turns to acceptance and life-changing success.  Both girls learn something about themselves from walking in each others' shoes.

What is somewhat more surprising, given the book's general lightweight focus on fun and parties, is the strong empowerment message that comes through by the end.  As McDonald writes in the afterward, she was particularly interested in exploring the sexual politics of the younger generation. That said, McDonald has created a bit of a straw person, by creating an overly simplistic reading of feminism as anti-sex (focusing in particular on Andrea Dworkin and Catherine MacKinnon) in order to show how these two young women break free of such old fashioned ideas.  However, there has always been a significant body of literature out there exploring the place of desire in defining identity, so McDonald (and Tasha and Emily) are hardly stepping in new ground. 

There are other issues with the story itself.  Some of them are little (claiming that Rousseau wrote Civil Disobedience) while others are bigger (in what exchange program would student swap entire class schedules -- trying to attend each others' classes?).  But I may be taking it all a bit too seriously.  The story itself is great escapist fun, with some light romance and a bit of drama to keep things interesting.

Darkbeast Rebellion, by Morgan Keyes

In this sequel to Darkbeast, Keara, Goran, and Taggart are fleeing for their lives, trying to escape the Inquisitors and simultaneously searching for a group of renegade "Darkers" who will take them in.  As adults who have rejected the mandate that they must kill their animal familiars ("Darkbeasts") on their twelve birthdays, the three of them are not only heretics, but a deep threat to the social order.  The Darkers, it is said, shelter similar rebels.  If only they can be found!

But their problems do not disappear when the three of them find a colony of Darkers, as all is not quite as they hoped.  Instead, soon they are thrown back into peril.  By the end of the story, Keara must find a way to prove herself, without the help of her Darkbeast.

I loved the first book in the series so much that I eagerly threw myself into this one, casting aside all the other books on my pile in favor of this one when it arrived unannounced in the mail.  Even though I am not a fan of sequels, I had high hopes for this novel.

It held up surprisingly well.  I liked the first book for its originality and for the depth of its vision.  A tremendous effort was made into imagining this fantasy universe, as Keyes explains the theology, culture, and mores of these people.  She continues this forcefully in the sequel, expanding into the complicated politics of the society as well.  Even if young readers won't always appreciate it, there is an amazing consistency and logic to the world the author has created.

What young readers will certainly appreciate is the description of the changes that Keara is going through.  While the first book focused on the difficult problem of letting go of childhood, the second explores the more complicated process of navigating the beginnings of adulthood.  From the dawning of the realization that social interactions have grown more complex to the cold reality that friendships are easily betrayed to the novel need to build social bonds, Keara goes through many familiar challenges.  In this way, Keyes's complex coming-of-age story is much more honest than the more "reality" based versions on the market.  And in the safety of this fantasy world, readers can see their own difficulties exposed and conquered.  Truly, this is the glorious purpose for which middleschool fantasy was intended!

And it is also an excellent and fun read!


[Disclosure:  I did receive an unsolicited free copy of this book from the publisher (and am grateful to them for calling attention to the book).  It does not impact the nature of my review.  I look forward to finding a receptive young reader for this book in the future.]

Eleanor & Park, by Rainbow Rowell

Eleanor is an awkward redhead from a difficult family situation.  Park is a half-Korean punk rocker (and the only Asian kid in Omaha to boot!).  When she boards the school bus on the first day, she looks like a train wreck ready to happen.  Park takes pity on her.  And over a series of silent bus rides together, a friendship develops that turns into something more.  Yes, it's just a love story.

But it's also a lot more.  Told through the alternating voices of Park and Eleanor, Rowell has crafted an amazingly honest book about emotions and the flowering of love.  There are the mandatory references to Romeo and Juliet, but the novel itself is surprisingly fresh for a story that ought to be so overdone.  And while I hate the setting (did it really need to be set in the 80s?), the writing is pitch perfect.

This is also a story that grabs you by the jugular. It has tragedy painted all over it, which ought to prepare you for the ending, but the expected train wreck still devastates you.  These are kids that it is impossible not to care about and when bad stuff happens, it strikes you in a surprisingly effective way.  Perhaps, because these are good people and you want to see the best things happen to them.

The characters are key, of course. Park can be a bit clueless but he is likeable.  Eleanor captures your heart as intensely private and proud, and compassionate beyond her years.  And what's not to love about Park's mother, who is part Asian tiger mother stereotype, but with so much more depth and heart than Koreans ever get painted with by popular media?

In sum, a truly memorable and excellent book.  Plenty of other reviewers have said as much so I realize I am not breaking any ground here, but for anyone who fears that I hate everything I read, it's a pleasure to prove that I'm not a total curmudgeon!

13 Gifts, by Wendy Mass

Because of some trouble at school (involving the kidnapping of a goat), Tara's parents decide that bringing her along with them on an upcoming trip to Madagascar might not be a good idea.  Instead, they send her to live with her aunt, who lives in her Mom's old home town (where Tara has never been).  There, she makes new friends, loses her shyness while engaging in an elaborate scavenger hunt, and discovers hidden talents, all because of a mysterious woman named Angelina (with whom readers of the previous installments in this series will be well-acquainted).  It all ends with a rousing performance of Fiddler on the Roof and some wild twists and turns that introduce the next installment (to be reviewed in a few weeks - stay tuned!).

While this is a series (third out of four and counting) and thus I should be predisposed to hating it, Wendy Mass writes such wonderful books for middleschoolers that it's hard to dislike this charming coming-of-age story. I love the way that the characters can have coed adventures with a middle-schooler's (age-appropriate) awareness and curiosity of the opposite sex, but make no big deal about it.  Getting kissed by the right boy would definitely be a lot of fun, but there's a mystery to solve!  The adventure itself is giddy stuff (I myself almost squealed with delight when teen heartthrob Jake Harrison made a cameo appearance!) and keeps the pages turning.

Boys, Bears, and a Serious Pair of Hiking Boots, by Abby McDonald

When Jenna's parents announce that they are both going away (to different places) during the upcoming summer, she suspects that they are separating.  However, her immediate worry is that she is not going to be able to engage in the eco-activism program she and her best friend are planning.  And while their plans seem to be wrecked, Jenna is eager to avoid the probability of going with her mother to Orlando and hanging with the over-65 crowd.  It's her friend who points out that Jenna does have a godmother Susie living in rural British Columbia.  There's plenty of nature therefor a green activist, and she'll be able to help her Susie set up a new Bed and Breakfast (and maybe even arrange an eco-tourism package while she's at it).  Jenna is excited when she convinces her parents to let her go.

But things don't go smoothly when she finally gets there.  Susie's sullen step daughter Fiona is a major pill.  The other kids in their small town aren't terribly friendly and they become downright hostile when Jenna tries to lecture them about environmentalism.  But once the initial bumps are overcome and Jenna learns to be a bit more sparing with the rhetoric, things smooth out and an exciting summer awaits.

An above-average summer read, with a bit of adventure in the woods led by an energetic (but lovably self-mocking) narrator.  There's plenty of humor, some light romance, and a little drama to move things along.  The kids are all memorable and appealing in their own right.  The adults are realistic, but conveniently distant and unobtrusive.  It's not fluff, but nothing too weighty holds this story down (even if McDonald does toy briefly with the topics of divorce and homophobia).  In sum, a nice light read.

Lovely, Dark, and Deep, by Amy McNamara

After living through a car accident that killed her boyfriend and her unborn child, Wren flees to remote Maine to live in her father's house and just sort things out.  Worried by Wren's lack of activity, Wren'smother who tries to get Wren to do something and pressures her ex-husband (the parents were divorced long ago) to nudge Wren out of the house.  Both of their clumsy attempts are rebuffed by Wren.

Instead, Wren meets a young man named Cal with issues of his own.  And in sharing their issues with each other, Wren and Cal develop a relationship on their own terms.  However, their  friends and families worry that neither Wren nor Cal are in any shape to take care of each other.  They may be in too deep.

A slow-paced but ultimately authentic look at depression.  McNamara captures well the spiral of a young person very much sucked in by her grief. And, however much it may offend fans of this sort of story, I found that excruciating, not "insightful."

While the grieving process can take considerable time and there is no doubt that well-meaning (but ultimately pushy) family members in Wren's life should have laid off, it really does get very old to listen to her rant on about how every thing that happens is just some attempt to hurt her.  Wren's combination of adolescent self-centeredness and arrogance gets old pretty quick.  I presume that McNamara believes that Wren's persecution complex is a sign of strength, but it is pretty obvious that Wren is in fact her own worst enemy.  When someone is nice to her, she relabels it as pity or lack of trust.  When someone gives her space, they are neglecting her.  And when someone tries some tough love, she whines that they just don't "understand" her.  However, Wren doesn't want to be understood and needs, in fact, to drag out her misery as long as she can because it has become habit and provides the only meaning at the psychic corner into which she has painted herself.

Kudos to the author for portraying the downward suck of depression so accurately but shame on her for not calling it out as a dead end.  The process (of healing) will come when Wren realizes that there are other behavior patterns (like caring for Cal) that are worth following and which don't have to hurt as much as the path she has chosen.  But that piece of good news is not really the purpose/goal of this harrowing story.

Serafina's Promise, by Ann E. Burg

There's nothing like reading a story about a impoverished Haitian girl, whose one dream is to be able to go to school and become a doctor, to make you want to retch at all those whiny suburban white girls who complain because they can't get a boy to kiss them.  At least, that was my first thought when I read Ann E. Burg's forthcoming verse novel, Serafina's Promise about a little girl growing up in the developing world.

But once I moved beyond the obvious differences between Serafina and her financially-better off sisters, I realized that there were plenty of similarities as well.  She dreams of a better life, but views the world socially (valuing her friends as much as her successes).  She enjoys playing, but understands her responsibilities to her family. She simultaneously loves her mother, yet wants to surpass her, being unwilling to settle for the life that her Mom seems to live.  Like many other children, she exaggerates her responsibility for the misfortunes of adults (even if her experience with murdered relatives is a bit more extreme than an American's) and searches for a balanced understanding of where she fits in.  And, if anything, Serafina is blessed by a tight family unit, a particularly strong work ethic, and some good fortune.

Verse novels are a bit of a flighty affair.  In this case, the verse doesn't add much to the story, but it doesn't hurt the story either.  What is wonderful is Burg's ear for the local Creole and the cadence of the spoken language of Haiti.  The dialogue of the characters makes the setting come alive and is itself fascinating.  As an opportunity to travel to another place and see the world through another's eyes, this is a memorable read.

[Disclosure:  I was sent a free copy of the book by the publisher for the purpose of writing this review.  After I finish writing this entry, I will donate the book to my local public library.]

The Wolf Princess, by Cathryn Constable

Three girls from London (Sophie, Delphine, and Marianne) are invited to be guests of a mysterious Dr Starova in Saint Petersburg during their break.  But instead of ending up with the doctor, they are transported to the long-forgotten estate of the Volkonskies.  Their hostess is the last Princess Volkonskaya, who takes a special interest in Sophie.  This is an odd choice as Sophie is definitely the least inspiring of the bunch.  A scholarship student and an orphan, she is surprised to find the Princess eagerly soliciting her.  And even more surprised when the Princess asks for her help in locating the long-lost family diamonds!

A cute little book in that grand tradition of English Public School Kids Take a Trip Into a Magical Kingdom.  This one stays a bit harder on the realistic side with suitable attention to Russian history, current events, and language (plenty of decent Russian phrases litter the book and a useful glossary at the end provides definitions).  The magic, mostly involving communing with the animal kingdom, is suitably kid friendly and harmless.  The most fantastic element of the story is of course the fact that the kids are basically outside of adult supervision altogether (the English seem as devoted in their literature to putting their young children in harm's way as the Scandinavians!).  Being away from parents won't bother the target audience.  Young readers will mostly enjoy a gentle fantasy adventure.

[Disclosure:  This came to me as an unsolicited ARC, which I'll recycle.  The actual book is not released until September 24th.]

Fingerprints of You, by Kristen-Paige Madonia

Lemon has been dragged from one town to another by her single mother for the past dozen years, a process that she despises but has grown used to.  However, on this latest move (to Morgantown WV), she's in trouble:  she's gotten pregnant from her Mom's ex-boyfriend.  Determined to keep the baby, but aware of the uncomfortable parallel's with her own mother's decision to keep her but flee her father eighteen years ago, Lemon decides that she needs to get away.

She convinces her friend Emmy to join her on a cross-country roadtrip to California, where she hopes to find her father (who she's never met).  Classic road-trip story unfolds and California offers its shares of surprises and revelations to the girls.

Coming with a warm endorsement from the Godmother of YA (Judy Blume), the novel actually manages to live up to the hype.  Madonia writes fluidly and creates complex and interesting characters.  The actual plotting of the story can be a bit broken (Madonia has trouble foreshadowing properly and the ending of the book drags on a bit), but the characters make up for these flaws.  Both adults and children have their share of strengths and flaws, and their interactions are mature and realistic.  Key amongst these is the complicated struggle between Lemon and her mother that forms a fascinating thread throughout the story.  Rather than just stringing raging dialogues together (as most YA books do), Madonia takes the time to explain each side's point of view in reasonable terms.  Mother and daughter clearly love each other, even when they don't quite see eye to eye.  And the dramatic arc of the novel basically recounts the ways that Lemon comes to understand how her mother's fingerprints are really found all over her life.

I Swear, by Lane Davis

When senior Leslie ends up dead in her garage, there is no question of how it happened (she intentionally asphyxiated herself with car fumes), but there is the open issue of why she did it. The student leaders in her class rally together to form suicide-awareness rallies and peer counseling groups, but an uncomfortable truth hangs around them:  Leslie was bullied by precisely the same group that is now leading the charge to heal their classmates.

When Leslie's parents file a wrongful-death suit and the subpoenae start to be served, the kids circle their wagons.  Led by media-savvy queen bee Macie (herself the daughter of a local politician), they try to deflect responsibility.  But their guilty recollections to each other (and eventually to the authorities) reveals a variety of motivations that could lead a group of teenagers to drive a classmate to her death.

The story is, of course, chilling to read for anyone who was even mildly teased in school.  It is also naturally cathartic to watch a conspiracy fall apart (although the less-than-happy conclusion will disappoint readers clamoring for blood).  Beyond those primal instinctual appeals, the story doesn't boast much depth in its plot or its characters.  It's a good story and one that probably needs to be told a few more times, but much potential complexity was sacrificed for a slick story.  At the end, as the guilt-ridden ones are baring their souls, I wouldn't have minded learning something that would have painted a more complex explanation of bad behavior.  I think I was supposed to forgive some of these kids, but I honestly didn't find much to redeem them!

What Came From the Stars, by Gary D. Schmidt

The Kingdom of Valorim has come under a terrible siege.  As the barbarian O'Mondim are breaking through the defenses of their fortress, the doomed Reced bind their power into a chain and send it far away to a distant galaxy.  Denied what they came for, the enemy swears to find the chain and gain the power necessary to rule their new thrones.

Far far away in Plymouth, Massachusetts, Tommy Pepper is celebrating his birthday.  Unfortunately, instead of getting anything cool, he has been saddled with an embarrassing gift (a lunchbox suitable for a little kid) from his grandmother! Heedless of the irreparable harm that showing up with an uncool lunch pail will cause, Tommy's parents insist that he take the lunchbox in to show his friends.  But as Tommy's social standing is about to endure a fatal blow, he finds a mysterious necklace inside the box with his lunch.

In the days that follow, Tommy discovers that he has the ability to see things that no one else can see, draw so well that his sketches seem to come alive, sing beautiful songs that no one has ever heard, and even to see his dead mother.  Realizing that it all has something to do with the mysterious necklace, he is determined to keep these new powers.  Which is about the time that the bad guys show up....

The result is a terribly clever and well-written fantasy-adventure, which manages to squeeze in some poignancy as well.  The fantasy elements are intentionally over-blown in the form of a mild satire (along the lines of the movie Super 8) which is cute but drags.  Instead, the story moves along best when it is stuck on Earth.  And while there isn't much room to effect something original in Middle Grade Fantasy, Schmidt seems to have pulled it off, producing a story with enough soaring adventure and down-to-Earth middle school drama to appeal to its target audience.

My Beautiful Failure, by Janet Ruth Young

Billy's father suffers from manic depression and when Dad's obsession with restarting his art career threatens to put him back into the hospital, Billy becomes desperate.  However, nobody else in the family seems to be concerned with what is happening.  Unable to fix the situation at home, Billy embraces the opportunity to work at a suicide prevention line.  Knowing something about mental illness first hand, Billy figures he can do some good.

But as his father's condition starts to worsen, Billy find himself caught in his own problems:  a girl named Jenney who keeps calling in.  At first, he finds he just enjoys listening to her, but soon it grows into something more.  Going around the organization's rules, Billy becomes more and more involved in her issues.  Too late, Billy comes to understand why those rules exist.  Simultaneously, Billy has to deal with his father's potentially devastating public art exhibit.

Short and breezy, the story is a good fast read, but it is a bit of a disappointment.  Too many lost opportunities.  There are some lovely ironies in the story that I wish that Young had called out in the end (but which I won't reveal here as they would spoil the ending).  I also found the climax a bit underplayed.  And while I hate conveniently clean conclusions, too much is really left unresolved in the end (most notably, no coming to terms between father and son).

Seeing Red, by Kathryn Erskine

In rural Virginia in 1972, Red knows that bigotry and racism are wrong, but he also sees plenty of otherwise responsible adults engaging in it.  The children around him emulate the adults and his think nothing of expressing opinions and using words that Red was never allowed to express by his late father.  When an error in judgement causes Red to betray his African-American best friend, Red comes to understand the intoxicating effect of racism.  But there are darker secrets from the past that Red must confront -- a secret that may have even been responsible for killing his father!

It's a classic American novel setting:  boy growing up in the South finds and confronts racism in his community.  Erskine isn't breaking new ground here and her characters (from the wide-eyed boy to the wise old African-American woman to the slow-witted but gentle giant are all part of the well-worn cliche.  Whether it has any basis in reality is completely irrelevant: these are archetypes and you can pretty much picture the discussion guide that will go along with the chapters (I was actually surprised that the book didn't come pre-equipped with one already).

Does it deserve the attention?  Actually it probably does.  Not so much because of the setting or the characters, but for what else Erskine is trying to do.  The book isn't so much about racism, but about race relationships in a post-racist world.  By which, I mean:  how does one come to terms with the history of institutionalized racism when it is supposedly past?  How do you accept the role that your ancestors played in it?  That's an interesting idea and not as frequently explored in literature, particularly children's literature.  How much that will register with children is a bit of a guess since the book itself is placed nearly in their grandparent's era.


[Disclosure:  I asked for and received an advance copy of this book (it is slated to be published on September 24th) from the publisher free of charge.  I will be donating the book to my public library.  I do not receive or solicit compensation for any of my reviews.]

Drowning Instinct, by Ilsa J. Bick

The story opens with a detective handing Jenna a Dictaphone to record her side of the "story." But not knowing how Jenna ended up being a person of interest or what the detective is investigating, we spend the rest of the novel in anticipation of having that story unravel.

I was very reminded of American Beauty and the way we start off knowing the ending, but not how it began  Like that story, there are plenty of distractions along the way:  Jenna's abusive parents, her psychiatric illnesses, her absent brother, a zealous and attentive (or maybe overly attentive) teacher, a jealous classmate, some lecherous adults, and so on.  It's complicated, but in the end I'm not really sure what the point was, except to spin an elaborate whodunnit.

More distracting is the character of Jenna herself who is wise beyond her years and more articulate than humans - of any age - are ever likely to be.  How Bick, who claims to be a child psychologist, could write such an unconvincingly and inauthentic adolescent voice is beyond me.  At best, this is Jenna some fifteen years later on a shrink's couch recounting her youth.  But it is certainly not the voice of a sixteen year-old girl.  It's barely even human.

All that said, the story is taut and fast-paced.  You won't be bored reading the book.  You may even have trouble putting it down.  I read it to the end, mostly because I madly wanted to know how it began.  But in the aftermath, I really don't know if I would recommend that someone else start it.

Kill Me Softly, by Sarah Cross

Growing up, Mira's godmothers (who took over raising her when her parents died in a fire) have kept a close eye on her.  They have a strict set of rules, including a few odd restrictions like not handling sharp objects.  But as Mira's sixteenth birthday approaches, she decides that she must break one of their most important rules: never returning to Beau Rivage -- the town where she was born and where her parents died.

So, she runs away from home and shows up at the town.  Her goal is to scour the town's graveyards and find her parents' grave, so she can finally come to terms with their demise.  Instead, she finds a town with an obsession with fairy tales and befriends two brothers who run a local casino:  Felix and Blue.  Felix is charming and takes Mira in, while Blue seems angry at everyone (alternating between attacking his brother for scamming on Mira and sniping at Mira for being receptive to Felix's overtures).  But something more serious is going on here than just fraternal jealousy.

A creative and unique twist on the Grimm's tales, combining the dark and nasty side of the originals and placing them in a contemporary setting.  The details are complicated and can't really be revealed without spoiling the story, but suffice it to say that it mostly works.  The result is a steamy adventure story that tends to work best when it focuses on action, overcoming destiny, and some good hacking and slashing.  The romantic parts try a bit too hard and the combination of curses and lust is heavy handed -- the type of thing that sounds good in theory but which reads like wet cardboard.

The ending becomes particularly messy as two very important threads (one involving Felix and the other concerning Mira's parents) get suddenly dropped and forgotten in favor of a romantic subplot that most of us could see coming.  It's not a bad twist, but the decision to completely drop the ball on the primary plot lines is a bit jarring, to put it mildly. So, bag the last fifty pages or so, they will just drive you nuts and take my word for it that the story was never wrapped up.

Every Other Day, by Jennifer Lynn Barnes

Kali has a double life:  one day she's an invisible sixteen year-old, but the next day she's a killing machine hunting down hell hounds, basilisks, dragons, and other "preternatural" creatures.  She doesn't know why she has to endure the cycle, but simply that it's been that way since she hit puberty.  On the days she is the hunter, she is invincible and capable of anything.  On the other days, she is vulnerable and fearful.

For the most part, she keeps a low profile and doesn't reveal her alter ego, but one day that changes.  At school, she notices that Bethany (one of the cheerleader/It girls) has been marked by a demon in a way that indicates that she will die within the day.  Despite the social class divide, Kali is determined to save her, but there is one problem:  it's the wrong day!

If this description (which more or less follows the book's jacket blurb) was the extent of the story, it would have been a clear riff on how a nerd and a popular girl became friends facing a mutual adversary.  The trouble is that this part of the story wraps up after about 120 pages, leaving an additional 200 more in which to unfold a pretty complicated plot that lacks consistency.  The story was far more interesting when it was simpler (awkward girl fantasy about using superhero powers to save the popular girl and gain acceptance).  Once it becomes an industrial conspiracy and every adult (including the parents) are involved in it, the story gets silly and drags.

Beautiful Music for Ugly Children, by Kristin Cronn-Mills

In a small town south of Minneapolis, Gabe dreams of making it big as a DJ.  He's got a mentor next door, an old man with an amazing collection of music (and some great stories about Elvis).  The neighbor even lands Gabe a late-night slot on the community radio station, where Gabe plays classic rock for a show he calls "Beautiful Music for Ugly Children." The show is a big hit with the kids at school and Gabe builds up a following. There's just one problem:  Gabe's birth name is Elizabeth and just about everyone off the air knows him as a her.

Since Gabe was little, he's known that he wasn't a girl, even if his body didn't agree.  When he was younger, he dressed the part and played with the boys.  But what was cute or maybe awkward growing up has now become dangerous.  At first, Gabe hopes that he can remain anonymous on the radio, but what will happen if the kids at school figure out Gabe's identity?  But even that is not so simple: at the same time, Gabe welcomes the danger -- he's tired of being in the closet and hiding his identity from his family and friends.  But, even for those who accept him for who he is, stepping out has its costs and unexpected complications.

There's a bit of a split focus to the story as it tells the more conventional story of seeking fame in the radio industry, but combines it with the more unusual quest by Gabe for acceptance of his transgendered state.  Of the two stories, I found the first one to be the weakest.  I lose patience with YA writers who can't be bothered to give their characters contemporary music tastes (C'mon! How many teens really care about Matt the Hoople!?).  It either seems like the author is too lazy to study contemporary music or they hate what the kids are listening to.

But the story of Gabe's struggle to break free of his Elizabeth identity was much more compelling.  Just how much?  Well, I very nearly missed my flight reading in the airport and, once on board, completely missed the flight attendant asking me if I wanted something to drink!  I was totally out of it, being so sucked in to the story.  I liked Gabe.  I liked his way of handling people.  I was fascinated by his relationship with his BFF (the straight and very confused) Paige.  The mentor, the parents, and even the kids at school were all interesting.  No easy answers, not even a complete ending, but plenty of things to think about.  In sum, a nice addition to the very small "T" section of LGBT literature.

The Boy on the Bridge, by Natalie Standiford

Laura has always been fascinated by the Russians -- their murderous history, crazy rulers, and forbidding landscape.  So, it is a dream-come-true to come to Leningrad to study at the Pushkin Institute in the Winter of 1982.  Now, for the younger ones out there:  this is before Putin, Yeltsin, and Gorbachev -- it's the tail end of "the period of stagnation" (the dying days of Brezhnev) when the Soviet Union, while faded, was dozing in the glorious perpetuity of authoritarianism. It's a grey time and while things will change dramatically is six to seven years, no one knew that at the time.

One early day, on the bridge that connects the main part of the city to the island where Laura's dorm is located, she meets Alyosha.  He is a revelation to her -- sensitive, romantic, and mature.  He is different from Americans, and she is curious.  Curiosity, in turn, becomes infatuation.  It's a difficult relationship to maintain -- socializing between Americans and ordinary Russians is discouraged and Laura and Alyosha must sneak around a bit to be together.  But as their relationship becomes more and more serious, they care less about the consequences.


The book fascinated me.  My own travels in Russia don't start until nearly five years after this story takes place, but from what I remember of their early trips, Standiford nails the details spot on.  She obviously took good notes during her own stay in Leningrad (and the novel is either autobiographical or a mash-up of experiences of her compatriots).  Dom Knigi, Cafe Sadko, and even the Uncle Sam's at the US Embassy are real places and they are described accurately.  But moreover, Standiford captures the nuances of Russians and the awkwardness of American-Russian interactions in pitch perfect detail.

More importantly, the misunderstandings and jealousies that complicate American-Russian romances which are described herein are painfully familiar (I myself decided that I was going to marry my Saint Petersburg girlfriend some ten years after the events in this book -- and we went to many of the places that Laura and Lyosha chose to visit and had similar conversations).  Needless to say, I have a good position from which to judge this book (I lived this story myself) and it brought back many memories.

But I wonder what the book would mean to other people?  The Soviet Union is long gone and forgotten.  It's not a piece of history that is likely to resonate with adolescent readers.  And Laura's romance (and its difficulties) will sound awfully strange to people today.  This is a period piece -- a perfect one at that -- but still an alien world.  And the story is not helped by its rather clunky third-person voice, which feels distant and detached.  So, I can't imagine where the book will find its readers, unless there are more nostalgic folks out there who can remember what it was like to walk along Fontanka with the love of your life!

By the way, the cover, which looks like it came out of a Sims game, is really quite creepy when you stare at it too long!


[Disclosure:  This book will be released on July 30th.  I received an ARC from the publisher and no further compensation.  I'm donating the copy I received to my local public library]

Almost Home, by Joan Bauer

When Sugar and her mother lose their home and end up on the streets, it would be easy to feel down and lose hope, but Sugar is as sweet as her name.  Whenever things take a turn for the worse, she still finds it in her heart to thank the people who help her and even locates a kind word for the good parts of the people who don't.  After all, her mother, as helpless as she may be, taught her to always say "thank you!"

Meanwhile, her late grandfather and his book of life guidance and wisdom has taught Sugar to stand up for herself and her family.  As a result, Sugar is one strong-minded, resourceful, and determined twelve year-old.  Through some encouragement from her English teacher, Sugar articulates her feelings about her family and the hard times that have befallen them.  And she makes some friends (most notably a puppy that actually purrs!) and does a decent job of keeping things together even when the adults around her can't manage to do so.

Joan Bauer usually has a pretty specific formula:  create a vivid character with a particular skill (waitressing, pumpkin growing, shoe selling, pool playing, etc.), set a bunch of obstacles up, and let the protagonist overcome them and learn a little self-confidence along the way.  In some ways, this book follows that heroic script, but Sugar is a much more complicated character (in spite of being five-six years younger than the usual Bauer heroine and a bit less articulate).  Mostly, she reminded me of a younger Jody from Letting Go of Bobby James in her quirky spiritedness.  She certainly doesn't live in the comfortable middle class environment that pervades in most of Bauer's stories.  The stakes are a bit higher and danger a little closer, and the dysfunctional parent is a bit of a twist (in most Bauer novels, the parents are pretty inconsequential, but not nearly as self-destructive as Sugar's Mom).  This makes the story darker, but ultimately deeper and more meaningful.  Overall, it's a winner, although less easily digestible than Hope Was Here or Rules for the Road.

Petals in the Ashes, by Mary Hooper

At the end of At the Sign of the Sugared Plum (reviewed here a few weeks ago), Hannah and her sister have escaped the Plague in London.  Expecting to be welcomed with open arms by Lady Jane (whose orphaned niece they have rescued and brought into the country), they are rudely surprised to end up in quarantine for forty days instead.  But they survive this trial to be plunged into new challenges.

When the Plague has passed and it is judged safe to return to the city, Hannah is anxious to go back.  Ostensibly, to set back up their shop, but also to find handsome young Tom, who helped them escape.  But no sooner has she restored their business and made progress in locating Tom, then a new calamity befalls them:  the Great Fire of 1666!

While not a big fan of sequels, this seemed like a more organic continuance of the story than most, and too good of a concept to pass up.  For the most part, it charmed as much as the first book.  Hooper maintains the ability to spin out strong historic details and keeps the pace lively enough to make this brief book a fast read.  The story, if anything, is a bit rushed and seemed to have far more loose ends and glossed-over plot points (the rescued baby, for example, while allegedly missed, hardly merits a mention once it is unloaded with its aunt) than the first installment.  Good historical writing, but perhaps just enough of a good thing (for once, the trilogy rule did not get enforced)!

Since You Asked, by Maurene Goo

Bored sophomore Holly thinks she's being cute when she re-writes a column for the school newspaper that she's copyediting.  But little did she expect when she was turning the dry boring piece she was correcting into a ripping expose on the school that it would see the light of day!  When it accidentally gets published, she's sure that she's dead:  if not by the hands of her angry peers, than by the crazed paws of her mother.  Instead, her article is an instant sensation.  She is given a column of her own where she delights in lighting into her fellow students, while simultaneously lambasting the pitfalls of being a Korean-American.

Holly's wise cracks and cynicism are a currently-popular form of humor, so this book should sail with its target audience, but it frankly wears thin.  Yes, I get that she's angry and frustrated, but I don't get much out of reading 200+ pages of the snide remarks.  And the Korean angle, while not overplayed, has been gloriously done before (Gilmore Girls, anyone?).  The resulting book is sassy, but ultimately insubstantial.

Never mind that the cover is the hands down winner for Least Appealing Image of the year!  But hey, who am I to make snide wise-ass remarks?!

Beta, by Rachel Cohn

Elysia has been created (cloned from the body of a recently deceased girl) to be a servant in the utopia of Demesne.  She is also a rare attempt at cloning a teenager -- a process full of controversy and challenges, many of which Elysia doesn't yet truly understand.  Purchased and adopted into a powerful family as a surrogate for the family's eldest daughter, who has gone away to school, she is a simple plaything for the people around her.

Clones are supposed to lack feelings and emotions, but Elysia finds that she has both.  Clones are subservient and have no will of their own, but Elysia finds that she has that as well.  That makes her a suspect -- a "Defect" -- and she must hide those feeling from her owners or risk being "expired."

Dystopias are far too trendy these days and it is inevitable that a decent "reality" writer like Cohn would give it a shot (anyone care to imagine what a Sarah Dessen dystopian novel would look like?).  Surprisingly, it's a strong contribution to the genre.  The story is fast-paced and generally consistent, avoiding too many annoying plot twists.  The ethics and issues raised by the novel (ranging from struggling to meet adult expectations to drugs and peer pressure) will resonate with young readers.  In sum, I enjoyed reading it.

My biggest complaint is with the ending that meanders a bit too much.  Cohn both tries to tie up loose ends (often awkwardly) and simultaneously introduce a silly plot twist at the end that is designed solely for the creation of the need for the sequel, Emergent.  Will someone explain to me why dystopian novels always have to come out as trilogies?  Somehow Huxley and Orwell managed fine in fairly thin single volumes!

At the Sign of the Sugared Plum, by Mary Hooper

In 1665, farm girl Hannah comes to London to assist her sister run a sweetmeats shop.  She is excited to live in such a great city and has many dreams of becoming rich and successful in such a place of opportunity.  However, the timing is not fortuitous.  The city has been struck with plague.  At first, the sisters manage to avoid the infection and even develop some clever ways to make a living amid the chaos.  However, as the mortality rates increase, the challenges become more and more severe.

A brief, but ultimately satisfying historical novel that has a lively and sympathetic heroine and which vibrantly reveals life in 17th century London at a very dark time.  Hooper takes her subject fairly seriously, so this story lacks the wit and fun of Karen Cushman's similar books, but it is fascinating to read. This is a great example of what a historical novel can (and should) be -- educational and entertaining -- and did a nice job to launch many other historical novels from Hooper (including a sequel, Petals in the Ashes that I plan to read soon).

Love and Other Perishable Items, by Laura Buzo

 

It's an unusual story about lovers who aren't, not least of all because he's 22 and she's only 15. 

Amelia struggles with understanding what her parents see in each other and why her mother puts up with Dad's chauvinistic behavior.  Everywhere she looks and every thing she reads reinforces her belief that things are just plain wrong and that love is all messed up!  But most confusing of all for her is her unrequited crush on Chris, a co-worker at the grocery store where they both mind registers.

Chris is the harder egg to crack.  He's disillusion about love, his career, and his future.  He's bitter over the recent abandonment by the "perfect" girl he's experienced, school is no longer meaningful, and he's unable to make a living or stick to a plan.  More than anything, he's lonely, and tries to assuage those feelings by chasing after the women at work (paying little mind to Amelia, since she's just a kid!).

Through alternating diary entries, Amelia and Chris tell their stories about trying to figure out what is happening in their lives.  Their inability to find each other is both tragic and natural, given the circumstances, and one mostly comes away with a deep sense that they are both in very different places, but are so lost in themselves that they cannot recognize it.  The story leaves things unresolved, but this isn't really a relationship that any one would want to see consummated anyway!

There is no small creep factor in the age difference between the protagonists.  To Buzo's credit, the story never turns it into an issue.  What works less well is the general lack of a story in the first place.  There is a lot of dialogue in the book, but not much actually happens.  Drunken parties provide most of the decent action, but it doesn't amount to much and we have to spend a lot of time enduring sober banter to get to these pivotal moments.

There's also the question of intended audience.  As a depiction of what an angsty crushing fifteen year-old girl and a driftless 22 year-old young man are like, it is spot on, but what is the point and who would really care about them?  Certainly, a teen would hardly understand what Chris is feeling and an older person would cringe at reading Amelia's naivete.

Meant To Be, by Lauren Merrill

Julia is a hyper-organized, straight-A student who's always followed the rules.  She's got a clear sense of how things are supposed to happen and that includes the certainty that Mark is meant to be her partner for life (even if he doesn't know it yet!).

But while on a school trip to London, Julia is paired up with class clown Jason -- a boy whose chaotic lack of respect for the rules drives her nuts.  But for every obnoxious act he does that annoys her, she finds herself drawn to him...and, well, you know the rest and how it will all turn out, right?

In many ways, this was the perfect book to accompany my own trip to London.  Between the observations about travel and all the name dropping of people and places, there was plenty with which to compare.  What worked less well for me was the story itself.  There isn't much fun in watching a fairly adjusted young woman throw away good sense for bad taste in guys, and make one bad choice after another.  And, as depicted, there isn't much to recommend Jason.  He's vain and conceited and immature to boot!  And, while the appeal of the "bad boy" is obvious, it doesn't make sense for someone as allegedly mature as Julia to fall for him.  This ultimately makes the story pretty dumb.  And, even with the fairly heavy Shakespearean allusions that Merrill is pulling out, the story lacks originality and appeal.

Struck by Lightning, by Chris Colter

Carson Phillips could be described as "majorly cynical" without fear of overstatement.  He invariably has a biting comment to share with his peers about every behavior he observes around him.  He is the quintessential angry young man.  Predictably, this does not endear him to the rest of the student body (not that he really cares!).

His primary ambition is to get accepted at Northwestern University, major in journalism, and end up some day as editor of The New Yorker.  And while it is hard to find anyone to support his dreams (or even understand them), he holds out hope that it won't matter in the end -- he will soar above them all.   However,  when he discovers that his chances of getting accepted at Northwestern will be greatly improved by putting out a literary magazine, he realizes that he need some help to pull it off and he has to find a way to solicit the help of the people he has so thoroughly alienated.

I found this a particularly hard slog.  While Carson's biting social commentary is supposed to be amusing, it's way too cruel and mean spirited.  Perhaps the targets of his disdain deserve what they receive, but without any effort from Colter to demonstrate their worthiness, Carson's abuse just comes across as nasty.  As a result, I really grew to hate Carson's bullying.  This is only partly mediated by the times when Carson himself realizes that he's overstepped (more so, because the realization never seems to effect a change in his behavior!).  Colter himself seems to have a mean streak of his own in this book, leading up to a particularly bleak and unsatisfying conclusion, which turns the book's title into a sick joke.

Ferocity Summer, by Alissa Grosso

In the summer between their junior and senior years, Scilla and her best friend Willow are aimlessly trying to escape their lives. There is ample reason -- they have been implicated in an accidental homicide.  But rather than lay low as their case goes to trial, they indulge in excessive alcohol and drug consumption to mask their feelings of guilt.  The book's title meanwhile is a reference to a new drug called Ferocity that is making the rounds on the party scene.  It's a nasty thing, leaving about half of its users as permanent vegetables.  Still, given the cluelessness of the kids in this story, they hardly need any help!

I'm a bit conflicted about the book.  The shallow characters and their self-centric moaning and groaning gets old pretty quick, and this is not a group with whom I found much to empathize.  Yes, eventually, redemption will be achieved, but by the time it came about, I simply didn't care.  It simply isn't interesting to read about stupid people screwing up their lives.

On the other hand, Grosso has created an interesting (and rather subtly dystopian) world -- just slightly different from our own -- to use as a setting.  A great example of this is the Ferocity drug which mirrors (but also exaggerates) the drugs of today.  Overall, the setting is realistic, but with twists that make for an interesting read.  This, in spite of my distaste for the characters!

The Vanishing Game, by Kate Kae Myers

A few weeks after her twin brother Jack is killed in a car accident, Jocelyn receives a letter from "Jason December." This comes as a shock because it was a secret code name that Jack used while he was alive.  Only Jocelyn and a mutual friend (Noah) know about it.  Could Jack still be alive?  Jocelyn must find out. Armed with this piece of evidence, she heads to the town of Watertown and to Searle House, the foster home where she and Jack were raised (and where they met Noah).

Searle House is not a place of happy memories and Jocelyn's search forces her to go through those painful memories, looking up people that she would just as soon have forgotten.  Teaming up with Noah, the two of them look up their old compatriots and enemies, following clues that Jack has left for them.  But other people are interested in their search and things quickly grow very dangerous.

The result is a very strange story that never quite gelled for me.  Motivations are jumbled and confusing.  Even in the end, when you hoped it would all get wrapped up, elements of the story (partly supernatural, partly psychological, and party realistic) failed to add up or make sense.  The storyline itself is chaotic and races in several directions at once. Being a nostalgia trip, flashbacks are to be expected, but they are very distracting and break up the flow of the story.  It's a hard read and the ending is abrupt and not tied enough to the rest of the book.  Foreshadowing is virtually non-existent.

On the positive, the story is interspersed with some great logic puzzles and there can be a lot of fun in putting down the book to take a shot at solving them before the characters do.  There isn't always enough information to work them, but it's fun to try.

Fall From Grace, by Charles Benoit

Sawyer spends much of his time being the subject of other people's plans.  His parents know where he'll go to college and what he'll major in.  His girlfriend has figured out his social (and even his romantic!) calendar for both of them.  And Sawyer just inertly follows the plans.  It's not that he lacks in thoughts and ideas of his own, but he's just learned that it is too difficult to fight the flow.  He's bored and frustrated, but has no idea how to break free and follow his own plans.

Enter Grace, a girl from a neighboring high school.  She's got plans as well, but hers are decidedly different from any that Sawyer has seen before.  She likes to steal things.  The first time they meet, at a Model UN conference, she talks him into stealing documents from the other teams.  The novelty and the taboo-breaking are intoxicating to Sawyer and he is hooked.  From there, her plans move on to much bigger things.  Sawyer loves the excitement and the idea of doing something dangerous, and being someone that his parents and girlfriend would never approve of.  But these little rebellions come with a cost.

The really interesting question, and one which I wish the author has had Sawyer explore is whether he's really breaking free or just finding another person's plans to fall behind?  Unfortunately, it isn't really a question that the book attempts to answer.  Instead, this is largely an action story -- and a slow one at that, as sawyer ends up pretty much where he started.  The drama (tensions with parents, with girlfriend, and even with Grace) are largely tossed out in the end.  It's entertaining, but not very edifying.

The Secret Sisterhood of Heartbreakers, by Lynn Weingarten

On the first day of school, Lucy pledges herself to her boyfriend Alex whom she hasn't seen all summer.  But it doesn't go well.  Instead of bringing them together, he announces that he wants to break up.  Heartbroken, Lucy doesn't know what to do.  But, while grieving, she is approached by a girl with an unusual proposition:  learn special magic that will heal her broken heart by joining a secret sisterhood of conjurers.  All she has to do is get another boy to fall in love with her in the next seven days and then dump him.  His tears will form the core ingredient in a potion that will fix everything!

It's an odd premise and a story that doesn't really seem to know what its purpose is.  Is it trying to be a fantasy book about spells and supernatural powers?  Is it a realistic tale about the uselessness of fantasy and the greater importance of developing self-esteem?  The book could have worked either way (although I'll admit that I was rooting for the latter direction) but instead Weingarten carves out an uneasy compromise between being a story about magic with occasional intercessions from the real world and the reality checks of maturity.  The problem is that this muddies the message.  Is it more important to love yourself or to develop spells and potions with which to control boys and make them love you?  The book would have us believe that both are equally important, which seems like a pretty useless solution. The characters themselves were not very important either, since one is never really sure what each person's motives are (i.e., how much comes from within and how much is a response to all the charms and magic floating around).  In sum, it's a story that seems too sober to be fantasy and too fantastical to be a coming-of-age romance.

When You Open Your Eyes, by Celeste Conway

In the exotic setting of the expatriot community of Buenos Aires, Tessa and her friends live fun, but dangerous lives of parties in seedy tango bars, chauffeurs, and drugs and alcohol.  While Tessa thinks she knows what she is doing, she finds herself head over heels infatuated with a smoldering and disturbed French boy named Lucien.  She's the daughter of the legal attache to the US Embassy and he's the son of the cultural attache of the French Embassy.  Together, they make beautiful art and steamier romance.  But Lucien is a troubled young man and his needs may be a bit too much for Tessa to cope with.

As anyone who's ever tried to "help" a friend who really needed professional help knows, it's easy to fall into the trap of going from being a good friend to being in too deep.  And when love and lust are involved (never mind throwing in an exotic locale), it's easy to get sucked in.  Conway does a good job of showing that trap slowly forming and of showing how easy it is for Tess to get trapped.  She also does an amazing job with the setting, depicting with great detail what life in Argentina is like for an expatriot teen.  What works less well for me is the story itself, which heads in one particular direction for the first 264 pages, but shifts to a completely different trajectory in the last 40 or so.  The split is so dramatic that it is basically like reading a different book.  I felt cheated out of my "original" story.  It's certainly foreshadowed so I can't complain that it came from nowhere, but the complete abandonment of the central characters and core plot elements makes the ending feel orphaned.

Me, and Earl, and the Dying Girl, by Jesse Andrews

The "me" of the title is Greg Gaines, an angry neurotic Jewish kid with self-loathing issues (think Eminem meets an Annie Hall-era Woody Allen).  Greg has made a committed effort to be a casual acquaintance of everyone at school without allowing himself to be labeled as part of any one group.  By being stand-offish, he avoids being labeled (positively or negatively).

Earl is Greg's friend-of-sorts.  Angry in his own way and generally hostile to everyone around him, Earl's in-your-face attitude make a perfect foil for Greg's low-profile.  What brings them together is a love for art films and their own collaborations creating the world's worst remakes (which Greg also reviews for our edification).  These are films that aim to rival Werner Herzog, but (in their own words) "suck donkey dick."

The dying girl is Rachel, with whom Greg has been only passively acquainted through the years.  But when she is diagnosed with leukemia, Greg and Earl find themselves drawn into her confidence.  Much to Greg's surprise, it turns out she loves Greg's humor and Greg and Earl's home movies.

What develops isn't heart-warming (or especially deep).  As Greg constantly reminds us, he isn't the type of guy that would fall into that particular rut.  Instead, we get a story that portrays these three angry teens in a fairly honest fashion, showing how they relate to each other and develop an unexpected alliance together.

An unfair comparison for this novel would be with John Green's Fault in Our Stars.  Me, and Earl, and the Dying Girl is neither as nuanced nor as funny as John Green's witty look at pediatric oncology.  However, this story does have its charms.  While Greg and Earl's lewd banter can get old and tired, the riff has an unrelenting honesty to it.  Andrews rigorously and aggressively avoids sentimentality, even as he (through Greg's voice) acknowledges (and even mocks) how much the reader wants an easy out.  At times, this works and keeps the readers on their toes, but I'm a sucker for an emotional uplift and the unrelenting dreariness of this tale became oppressive.  The lack of payoff is realistic and authentic, but aesthetically unappealing to me.

The Princesses of Iowa, by M. Molly Backes

[Note:  I've been on the road for the past two weeks, so haven't had an opportunity to post my reviews, but I have been reading so I'll try to catch up here over the next couple of days]

After Paige is involved in a car accident, her image-conscious mother decides to ship her off to Paris until things calm down, in order to preserve Paige's shot at being elected Homecoming Queen.  This leaves behind her best friend Lydia injured and other friend Nikki grief-stricken, without any explanation.  Returning home several months later, Paige finds her friends distant and changed, and a general sense that she will not be allowed to mend fences with them.  Her boyfriend now devotes all his attention to Lydia who (as everyone reminds Paige) is "going through a difficult time." What about Paige?  Paris wasn't exactly a joy ride and she misses her friends!  Senior year is a turning out a far cry from the dreams that the three girls had when they were growing up.

To the rescue comes a creative writing class that Paige is taking at school.  Taught by a young grad student, she is encouraged to channel her anger and frustration and "use it" to write.  In the process, she discovers new friends and explores new options, opening herself to the idea that the world may mean a lot more than being a "princess." Paige's mother, still obsessed with the old dream, continues to push Paige in a direction that she is no longer certain she wants to go.

A fairly lengthy book, which felt artificially drawn out by dialogues that never quite finish.  When you can pinpoint a hundred-odd pages that could have been eliminated by simply completing a sentence, you know the story's in trouble.  Tighter would have been better.  Or maybe it's simply the characters that drove me nuts.  Paige didn't really show much sign of being nice until about page 350.  That's a long time to hold out hope for her redemption!  And her peers were far worse.  Basically, these weren't people I wanted to get to know (in some cases, they were people I actively wanted to run away from!).  So, a story that dragged on and characters that didn't appeal basically defeated some strong writing -- in sum, a beautifully depicted world that I didn't want to get to know.

Speechless, by Hannah Harrington

Chelsea likes to have the dirt on folks and she loves good gossip.  That is, until she catches Noah and another guy in flagrante delicto in a bedroom at a party. The news is so juicy that, without even thinking, she blabs about the whole thing to everyone she sees.  But what seems like so much fun takes a sinister turn when Noah is beaten into a coma by two boys that Chelsea told.  Wracked by guilt, she turns them in to the police and her troubles begin.

Labeled a snitch, Chelsea is shunned by her classmates.  She decides that the root of her troubles lie in her inability to keep her mouth shut, so she takes a "vow of silence" and refuses to speak aloud.  Without the ability to speak (and defend herself), Chelsea begins to notice things about herself and her peers that she never did before.  And in that silence, she gains understanding, new friends, and an opportunity at a new life.

As a Quaker, I naturally love a story about the power of silence.  For a normal teenager, it must seem like a horrendous ordeal, but I think Chelsea shows us quite well what it can do.  In fairness, however, she is actually hardly ever silent since she is the narrator of the story.  Instead, we have to imagine what it must be like for her friends and family who don't benefit from her inner dialogue as we do.

The story itself is not all that remarkable.  The plot is predictable (self-centered girl learns to care about others and conquers her enemies with kindness), but it is of course a winner.  You can't not root for Chelsea as the bad guys keep getting in shots -- you want revenge just as much as she does.  So, you flip the pages in anticipation of the payback.  Other parts are less compelling.  The romance is warm, but nothing terribly exciting (which is surprising for a Teen Harlequin novel).  The repartee at the workplace (a diner) is meant to be interesting but also feels a bit like we're going through the motions.  Even the bullies and the clueless teachers seem lackluster.   The energy simply isn't there.  Readable, but not surprising.

Tangerine, by Edward Bloor

Paul Fisher may be legally blind, but he notices a lot of things around him. He sees the way that the ospreys steal the koi out of the artificial lakes (not an alligator or a human thief as the adults suppose).  He sees the way that his father obsesses over older brother Erik's football successes (while ignoring Paul's soccer prowess).  He sees the tensions between the rich kids in Lake Windsor Downs and the farmers' children in Tangerine.  Yet, he doesn't seem to remember how he lost his vision (he's told it was due to staring at a solar eclipse, but he vaguely recalls a different series of events).

And with this knowledge, Paul is thrown by a series of events onto the soccer team at Tangerine middle school, a group of kids so unlike Paul that they have a lesson or two to teach him - about the game and his life.  The result is a thrilling sports novel and an enlightening story about loyalty and honesty.  Some fun facts about citrus farming are an added bonus.

For a book that is definitely targeted at boys, this is an odd pick for me.  But I've always said that what draws me to a good read is the characters and the message.  Bloor has written a fascinating book that combines an appealing story about awkward friendship with some great social commentary.  Paul is a great character, with some geekiness and yet a clear sense of social justice and the strength to stand up for the right thing (even when the adults around him won't do so).  These are the ingredients for building a classic that his endured for multiple reprintings.  It's amazing to think that this was Bloor's first novel.

Burn for Burn, by Jenny Han and Siobhan Vivian

Liliya, Kat, and Mary have all suffered injustices.  In each case, the source of their suffering is caused by the cruelty of a specific person.  And when chance brings the girls together and allows them to compare notes, they discover a mutual desire for revenge.  So, while the girls have nothing in common beyond that wish, they bond nonetheless.  And along the way to realizing their rather twisted dreams, they come to understand each other and become unlikely allies (if not friends).

Team-written novels are usually painful ego-stroking exercises, best left in rough draft at a writers' retreat.  Their sole source of entertainment is watching the authors try to trip each other up (see, for example, anything written with David Levithan).  Thus, it is notable how well this one actually works.  I recognize all the beach town details as Han's milieu and the insights on clique psychology are Vivian's strength, but the writing is stylistically seamless and the reader doesn't trip over abrupt shifts from one author to the other.

The characters are quite interesting (as both Han and Vivian excel at building strong complex young heroines).  These are dark people and it takes quite a bit to make ostensibly mean girls into interesting (and even sympathetic) characters, but the book largely succeeds.  Liliya, torn between her loyalty to her best friend Rennie and simultaneously helping Kat exact revenge against Rennie has particularly complex motivations.  All three girls waver a bit on their convictions as they find that their commitment to striking back is not necessarily iron-clad.

The story itself is less smooth, and this is ultimately what defeats the tale.  In all the effort to collaborate, Han and Vivian can't quite figure out where they want the story to go.  And there are tantalizing subplots (including one that suggests supernatural forces at play) that never get developed.  The ending is particularly wimpy and seemed more like the authors just got tired of the exercise and threw in the towel.



Final Note:  There is absolutely NOTHING in this book that says "trilogy" (aside from the atrocious ending), so the recent announcement that this is part one of the "Burn for Burn Trilogy" is obviously a cynical post-publication marketing ploy.  The story doesn't have enough steam to justify two more books, so I won't hold my breath for the rest of the series.  I wish Han and Vivian would both focus on putting out good books instead of trying to cash in on the trilogy craze!

Openly Straight, by Bill Konigsberg

Rafe has been out of the closet for years.  The kids at school in Boulder know about him, his parents are super supportive, and his best friend (a girl named Claire Olivia) totally has his back.  But when Rafe transfers to an all-boys boarding school in New England, he decides he wants to try something different.  Instead of being out and proud, he'll keep his sexuality to himself.  After years of being the "gay" kid at school, Rafe wants to experience being "normal." He's tired of having his sexuality define who he is to others.

At first, the plan works great.  Rafe goes out for sports and becomes "one of the guys" hanging with a group of jocks whom Rafe can't imagine being so close with back home.  But things get complicated as Rafe tries to get Claire Olivia and his parents to understand why he's back in the closet.  And as Rafe's attempts to evade the question of his sexual orientation at his new school become white lies and the white lies become outright deception, Rafe discovers that he's in a trap (of his own making).

Surprisingly interesting and effective.  Decent gay literature is hard to come by and a book that goes far beyond the whole coming-out scenario to explore what being "gay" really means when you are a teen are rarer.  Konigsberg writes well with a good ear for boys.  The characters are strong and interesting.  And while placing the story at an all-boys boarding school won't win any prizes for originality, the story itself is fresh.

[Disclosure:  I received an advance copy of this book from the publisher, but no other compensation.  I am donating my copy to the Middleton Public Library after I finish with it]