Falling Into Place, by Amy Zhang

Liz struggles to understand her physics class, but she thinks she may understand the Three Laws of Physics, at least as far as they have been manifested in her own life -- a series of actions and reactions.  That life is just about to end at the beginning of the book, she hopes, as she drives her car into a ravine on purpose.  In her reflection, it’s a miserable life full of cruelties she has committed against her peers and plenty of suffering that has been self-inflicted.  That may seem harsh, but through a series of flashbacks and flashforwards, we slowly come to understand why she wants to die.

It’s a poetic and well-written story, but gruesome and relentless in its depiction of Liz and her friends – lives full of substance abuse, petty rivalries, and thoughtless cruelties.  It isn’t so much overblown (in fact, it all seemed quite realistic) but the truth is that Liz really isn’t a nice person.  And while her peers seem willing to forgive her, the reader is not necessarily going to be ready to do so.  At each point we understand her and start to absolve her, something even more horrible shows up to shock us again.  Overall, the portrait that Zhang provides of these teens is not flattering.  So, while well-written and plotted, it is a depressing and discouraging read.

The Way Home Looks Now, by Wendy Wan-Long Shang

In former days, Peter remembered how his older brother would always spar with their Dad over everything from how to play baseball to standing up for what was right (even if it meant protesting instead of studying).  But when it came to rooting on the home team, the family was united:  whether it was listening to the Pirates play or joining other Taiwanese-American families in Williamsport to root on Chinese Taipei demolish the Americans in the Little League World Series.  Baseball was a way that Peter's family came together.

But after Peter's older brother dies in an accident, the family falls apart.  His mother becomes withdrawn and non-communicative.  His father retreats into stern demands of his surviving son.  And Peter himself rejects baseball itself.  There is plenty to be glum about in the summer of 1972.  Nixon is reaching out to Mainland China to the inevitable disadvantage of Taiwan.  Major League baseball was on strike.  So, Peter hatches a plan to rescue his family and make the difference that his older brother always spoke of.

I'm not a big fan of sports stories, but baseball is always an easy sell.  Combine some reader-friendly sports action with family reconciliation, a tough father who loves his children, and a healthy dose of social consciousness raising, and you get a winning story.  It doesn't hurt that the story was based in part on real events, that the historical details are so pitch perfect and interesting, or that Shang painlessly teaches us a lot about baseball along the way.


[Disclosure:  I received a solicited reviewers copy in exchange for my unbiased review.  After completing this review, I will be donating the book to my local public library.]

A Different Me, by Deborah Blumenthal

For years, Allie has wanted to change her nose.  As she starts to research the process of rhinoplasty (i.e., a nose job), she meets two other girls on-line who are planning on having the same procedure.  Each girl has their own reason.  And as the young women go through their procedures, they respond differently.  And, as they do, Allie begins to question what she is hoping to accomplish.  Input from friends at school and the intervention of a romantic interest play a role as well.

The novel follows a predictable dramatic arc and reaches a conclusion that -- while sweet and poignant -- is basically predictable.  I don't mind having a decent old chestnut (i.e., beauty comes from within) rehashed, but this edition of it is crowded with characters.  Less, in my opinion, is always more and when you need a scorecard to keep track of all the people who come and go, one wonders if the tale would have been simpler with fewer of them.  It certainly would have allowed more space for character development and proving the worth of their inclusion.  As is, the romantic lead is pretty much thrown away.  And some of the cameos (like a brief appearance by a teen-aged author) are bizarre non-sequiturs.

Counting to D, by Kate Scott

Sam is crazy smart when it comes to math and she doesn’t do too badly in her other subjects.  In fact, she’s taking solely AP classes in her sophomore year.  But at the same time, she's hiding a big secret:  she’s dyslexic and completely illiterate.  She gets by through listening to her textbooks on audio recordings (and, the math is easy because it’s all numbers).  It's worked for her for many years.

But when she and her mother relocate to Oregon midway through the year, Sam has to start at a new school.  Her precocious abilities bring her to the attention of the smart clique at school and, in particular, a nerdy (but very hot) senior named Nate.  But what would her new friends think if they found out about her concealed disability?

The book does a great job of explaining dyslexia to reader and I liked the kids.  Scott does a nice job building up her characters and avoids a lot of stereotypes that fill YA books:  In this world, kids don’t always fight with parents, pretty A-listers can be friendly with geeks, and kids don’t always get sick when they are drinking.

But the story itself left me cold.  There was simply no dramatic tension in the story.  There’s all sorts of set-up, but Scott seems unwilling or unable to let things blow up.  There isn’t even a hint of tension between Sam and Nate.  The feared revelation of Sam's dyslexia is a non-event.  Basically, without any drama, there isn’t much of a story.  Scott also has a mission here (teaching us about her own struggle with dyslexia) and the book frequently veers into preachiness, which is always a turn-off for me.

Graceful, by Wendy Mass

At the end of The Last Present, little Grace had awoken from a coma with powers inherited from the local eccentric (and enigmatic Angelina).  The full scope of those supernatural powers is not known to anyone (most especially Grace) although she does seem to have the ability to create pizza!  But mysteries don't remain such for long, and as a series of cryptic postcards start arriving from Angelina and things start changing, the kids of Willow Falls know something is afoot!

In this fifth installment in Mass's Willow Falls series, all is (more or less) revealed and loose ends are (more or less) tied up.  One could argue that that was the intention of the previous book (The Last Present) as well, but this novel does a more solid job of finishing the series.  It is not, unfortunately, nearly as compelling as its predecessors.  Unlike the quirky 11 Birthdays or the more poignant Finally or 13 Gifts, there really isn't a theme here. With the prior books, there was always some sort of unifying theme and the magic was simply window dressing for something deeper and more meaningful (usually growing up, discovering friendships and love, etc.).  Also, as Mass warns in the forward, if you haven't read the other books, you will have trouble following this one.  But moreover, you might not care.  Unlike the preceding books, there simply isn't much of a story here and the magic exists in and for itself. So, we have a combination of a confusing storyline and not much of a purpose.  This simply extends the story, but with a focus on the magic rather than what made these magical.

While the story (or lack thereof) left me cold, I still enjoy the author.  Mass gets the middle reader audience.  I continue to love the pitch perfect way she depicts the age (with the characters neither ignorant nor worldly) and the utterly comfortable way she depicts friendships without all the hangups of writers who want to make a big deal anytime a boy and a girl are in the same room.


[Disclosure:  I received a solicited review copy of this book from the publisher in exchange for an unbiased review.  Having completed that review, I will be donating the book to my local public library.]

The Boy I Love, by Nina de Gramont

This year, Wren and her best friend Allie are starting at a new high school.  It's bigger than their old school and full of lots of opportunities.  But Allie is quickly disappointed when she fails to make the cheerleading squad and the cute upperclassman Tim isn't interested in her.  Meanwhile, Wren (who was never sure she'd be comfortable at the new school) not only lands a part in the Fall musical, but has gained Tim's attentions.  Allie is jealous and Wren wishes she could tell her friend not to worry about it.  However, she's been sworn to secrecy:  the truth is that Tim is gay (a fact that Wren wishes wasn't true as she'd like to date him, but which she accepts with much more grace than her peers would).

But helping Tim keep his secret is only one of Wren's trials.  Her family is facing bankruptcy and it is likely that they will be selling their home.  Not a moment too soon for Wren's older sister and her Dad, who both associate their old plantation with the shameful past of slave-owning ancestors.  But for Wren's Mom and her, the looming changes are scary.

It's a busy little story and one wonders if it needed to have so much going on.  The themes of homophobia and racism have a moderate amount of tie-in, but the financial woes really seemed like an entirely separate story.  Still, I liked the attempt to tell a story about a young woman in love with the wrong man -- it just isn't much of the story.  And unfortunately that's the thread that the publicists have taken too.  The novel is anything but the "romance" it is billed as.  Rather, it's a story about how various people deal with prejudice.

The Story of Tracy Beaker, by Jacqueline Wilson

(And now for a palate cleanser!)

Tracy Beaker lives in a foster home because her mother is a famous beautiful person who is off in Paris or in Rome, or probably starring in a movie (cause she's so beautiful and all!) in Hollywood.  And while Tracy wishes she would come round for a visit, she knows that that probably isn't going to happen.  And she also knows that she may tell a fib or two, but it's completely justified, considering how everyone abuses her and tells stories about her.  Now, if she could just convince a nice writer lady named Cam to foster her and get her out of this Home (or at least take her to McDonalds and get her some presents) that would make up for everything!

And so it goes.  A breezy middle reader about a ten year old girl in a British foster home.  Wilson tells us her story precisely by avoiding it altogether, having Tracy talk about everything except the truth.  Rather than admit how much she misses her mother, she's allegedly perfectly content to be a rabble rouser and carry on.  The misbehavior and acting out that fills the pages are on their surface annoying and grating, but ultimately sad as we realize the pain and rejection which Tracy herself cannot quite accept.  As such, the book has a subtle nature to it that I don't imagine quite sinks in to younger reader's heads.  I wonder what they do think of Tracy?

The Cellar, by Natasha Preston

One night, while Summer is outside on the street searching for a friend, she is abducted.  Her kidnapper is a psychotic man who throws her into her cellar.  Down there, he has installed a "home" for Summer and three other young women, whom he collectively refers to as his "flowers" -- Lily (Summer), Rose, Poppy, and Violet.  Forcing them to keep the place and themselves spotless and clean at all times, he reenacts bizarre "family" rituals with them and rapes them repeatedly.  There's also the occasional murder thrown in.

Ick!  The subject matter itself is pretty repulsive, but what really sent me over the edge was the portrayal of just about every female character in the book.  I get the victimization concept and how repetitive torture (particularly in the ritualistic manner that Preston describes here) can really disempower and weaken a person, but what is so shocking is how ineffectual the women in this story are.  No one ever makes a legitimate attempt to fight back (and what attempts there are are quickly defeated -- more often than not by the women's own reluctance to carry through).  While the characters frequently describe how angry and upset they are, they seem only able to turn this anger inward.  The female characters not incarcerated in the cellar are no better -- helplessly sitting around and weapily waiting for the menfolk to do something. What a terrible message to send to send young (presumably female) readers!  So, take it from a guy old enough to the target demographic's father:  if a man attacks you, it doesn't matter how strong he is, immobilize the SOB with a well-placed knee shot.  Yes, you'll hurt him but it will feel good (for you).

All of which may beg the question of why I finished reading this book?  I think I just kept hoping that the young women would eventually rise to the occasion and reign down some righteous vengeance on the psycho.  I was hoping for some catharsis and a little emotional growth in the victims.  Let me save you the trouble of reading this book in hopes it will be there: While Summer does try to fight back, it's the (male) cops who save her in the end.

The book was terribly repetitive as well, but we don't need to go into its other flaws....

The Porcupine of Truth, by Bill Konigsberg

Carson hasn't seen his father since he and Mom left when Carson was four.  So ending up back in Billings, Montana to help his mother take care of Dad (even if he is dying -- from complications of years of alcohol abuse) isn't exactly Carson's idea of a great way to spend the summer.  But on a visit to the woefully underpopulated Billings Zoo, he meets Aisha -- a young woman who has just been thrown out of her home for being a lesbian by her homophobic parents.

A friendship between Carson and Aisha develops and takes on new meaning when they uncover evidence that his grandfather (also estranged and long absent from the rest of the family) may in fact still be alive.  Following a few leads, Carson and Aisha set out on a road trip that will take them all the way to California, along the way exploring spirituality (through the eponymous Porcupine of Truth) and learning about the true meaning of family.

It's a decent road trip story, with some colorful characters and a fair share of tumbles and turns.  However, it really takes off towards the end when Carson learns about his grandfather.  The two weakest parts of the book for me were the spirituality discussions (which I found either trite or overly simplistic) and the ending (which suffers from overly convenient resolution in the form of a wealthy benefactor).  But those blemishes are countered by Konigsberg's excellent exploration of the family loyalty and acceptance, and by the characters.  I liked Carson's wit, his ability to bullshit ad hoc, and his predilection for bad puns.  Aisha is a sympathetic young woman struggling for acceptance (not always successfully) from Carson and others around her.  Both of them were winning personalities and made the read enjoyable.


[Disclaimer:  I received a free copy of the book from the publisher in exchange for an unbiased review.  After I am finished with the book, I will donate it to my local public library.]

Bright Before Sunrise, by Tiffany Schmidt

Jonah can't stand living amidst the snobby kids in Cross Pointe.  He's give anything to be back in Hamilton with his friends and his girl Carly.  And of all the people in Cross Pointe, the most annoying of all has to be Brighton -- the ever-chipper do-gooder who keeps nagging him to join in one of her volunteer projects.  Why can't she leave him alone?  For Brighton though, Jonah is a big mystery -- why is he so rude and mean to everyone, even when she is being so nice to him?

And then one night, fate brings them together on an adventure where the angry young man and the self-centered young woman will discover there's a lot more beneath the surface.  And they will discover that they are simply perfect for each other.

It's a classic no-surprises romance, but I like those and (assuming you like a fun romantic book) you will too.  The set-up is a bit too obvious and the starting points are a bit too convenient, but there's the growth in the relationship felt organic and perfectly natural.  Both Jonah and Brighton are interesting young people and it's easy to see how they could hit it off once we get through the initial  posturing and misunderstandings.  And that's basically what one wants from a romantic story.

100 Sideways Miles, by Andrew Smith

The Earth moves twenty miles every second and fact that endlessly fascinates Finn.  As a result, he's sees time as distance.  So, every second, every minute is measured in miles.  He's also trapped with the same name as a character in his father's famous science fiction classic (which causes people to assume that the boy character is inspired by Finn), has eyes of two different colors, suffers from epilepsy, has a best friend who is endlessly talking about his boners, and experiences unfortunately-timed epileptic blackouts.  As well, there's an amazing girl named Julia in his life, a potentially Nazi-sympathetic history teacher, and a German exchange student who pays boys to let her give them hand jobs.

If you haven't figured out that this is boy book (complete with scatological references, beer guzzling, and endless discussion of sexual arousal) then the proposition is pretty well laid out by the book's cover:  a depiction of a horse's corpse about to land on a much younger Finn and his biological mother (crushing Mom to death and leaving Finn with neurological damage that causes his episodes).  All of this random stuff means it's a funny book but not a particularly tasteful one.  If you enjoy novels like John Green's Abundance of Katherines, this one is right down your alley.  But for fans of books with pink covers and strong stories about interpersonal relationships, this one won't be quite as appealing.

Anything Could Happen, by Will Walton

Everyone thinks Matt Gooby is gay, simply because he has two Dads.  But that's stupid, thinks his best friend Tretch, there's no one that Matt is gay!  How does Tretch know this with such certainty?  Well, because Tretch is gay and he has an unrequited crush on Matt.  As much as Tretch likes Matt, he's just as terrified to tell him so.  Instead, he suffers through helping Matt find a girlfriend and even going on a double date with a girl of his own to maintain the illusion of just being friends.

There's a lot more to the story (a dying grandfather, a bully, finding the journals of a dead great uncle, and the whole process of Tretch coming out) but it's in such a non-linear fashion that you spend much of the book trying to figure out how it's all going to come together.  That it actually does come together is testimony to Walton's skill as a writer in this strong debut.

As a LGBT book, this novel cleaves an interesting middle ground.  Some books (and I have in mind David Levithan's in particular) make a big deal of showing just how gay they can be to prove that they are not a "straight" book.  Other authors tend to bury the sexuality altogether in a literary attempt to say "see, we're just like you!"  But this one falls between these positions, telling us not only a coming-out story that is unequivocal about Tretch's sexuality and the complicated nature of his feeling for his best friend (the getting-caught-in-the-laundryroom scene is particularly memorable!) but also a coming-of-age story that is universal to all young people.  Thus showing that, for Walton, sexual identity is important but not all-defining.

[Disclaimer:  I received a copy of the book from the publisher in exchange for my unbiased review.  After I complete this review, I am donating the book to my local public library.  This book is scheduled for release on May 25th.]

Alienated, by Melissa Landers

Earth has been contacted by an alien race called the L'eihr.  The aliens propose an exchange between the two worlds:  three outstanding young people from each planet will visit the other world for a year.  Cara has been chosen as one of the three representatives and is looking forward to the opportunity.  But first, her family will serve as hosts to a young man from the other world named Aelyx.

As you can probably predict, initial distrust and cultural misunderstandings will dissolve into friedship and more.  But will the distrust between the two cultures and violent xenophobia being fomented by human extremists destroy any chance of an  alliance?

When I picked this up, I initially thought it would give us a glimpse of an alien high school as we got to experience Cara's year abroad.  Instead, this story tells of Aelyx's stay on Earth (a place we already know pretty well) at a stereotypical American high school.  Thus, what we end up with is just the sexy-foreign-exchange-student story.  The social dynamics among these aliens are also so human-like that the science fiction stuff seemed unnecessary in the end (perhaps it will be more pronounced in the sequel?).  I'd have probably cut it all out and made this a story about a sexy Arab exchange student coming to stay with Cara's family.

The weakest part is the ending.  It's a rushed affair as lots of loose ends are tied together and the settings are placed for the next installment.  Basically, once we're off Earth, Landers is pretty much out of her comfort zone.  The strength was actually the relationship between Cara and Aelyx and the book works pretty well as a romance, even if Aelyx just seemed like a typical YA boy and not a clone from an alien planet.

In sum, a pretty typical YA romance, but only mediocre Sci Fi and action.

Edda: A Little Valkyrie's First Day of School, by Adam Auerbach

Edda is bored and lonely.  Sure, life in Asgard is pretty cool with dragons and giants, and she has lots of older sisters.  But she would like to have a friend her own age.  Her one-eyed Dad is very wise and suggests that she should attend school on Earth.  Edda isn't sure how she feels about leaving Asgard, but her father assures her that Valkyries (even little Valkyries) are very brave, so she goes forth.

School is very scary. There are lots of new faces and she has to learn to take turns on the slide and to do things she doesn't want to do.  But in the end, she makes friends and even invites her friends to come visit her in Asgard and see the dragons.

I don't really review many picture books, but occasionally something just jumps out at me like this.  Little kids won't get the jokes (in fact, most adults probably won't either!), but I loved the humor and sly references to Norse mythology.  The story itself is very sweet and addresses children's fears and apprehensions about leaving home and attending school for the first time.

Signed, Skye Harper, by Carol Lynch Williams

It's the summer of 1972 and fifteen-year-old Winston is fantasizing about one day being a great Olympian swimmer, just like Mark Spitz.  She's also got a thing for the son of her grandmother's business partner (a man with whom grandmother herself had a relationship with - giving birth to Winston's mother).  Speaking of which, at the time the story kicks off, said mother has suddenly written home begging her mother to come and bring her home.  Lacking a reliable vehicle for a cross-country road trip, grandma "borrows" her business partner's RV for the trip.  The owner's son is found on board as a stowaway and we have the makings of a quirky road story about Winston,  her grandmother, her half-uncle (and potential boyfriend - ew!), a dog, and a rooster on their way from Florida to Las Vegas.

Quirky and choppy best describe this story (183 chapters over 292 pages - many of them mostly blank).  It doesn't take a long time to read, but it can be hard to follow.  Winston is supposed to be some sort of trailer trash from the way she talks and the way she misspells certain words, but at the same point we are expected to admire her strong will and her self-determination (mostly to avoid becoming a pregnant teen like her mother and grandmother).  She wasn't badly portrayed, but I never warmed to her.  I did appreciate that the period details are kept low key and non-distracting (sharp-eyed youngsters may notice that Led Zeppelin is not playing on an oldies station but out of an eight-track player or that the Big Mac is served in a Styrofoam container).  However, the novel seemed mostly just functional.

#scandal, by Sarah Ockler

Lucy's best friend Ellie is sick and home with the flu, so she begs Lucy to be her boyfriend Cole's date for the Prom.  They are all good friends, so it will be doing Ellie a favor and she trusts Lucy.  Lucy however has been harboring a crush on Cole for some time and, at an after-Prom party, she makes the fatal mistake to act on her impulse.

The next morning, Lucy learns of a much bigger scandal:  someone has stolen her phone and uploaded all of the pictures she took at the party (including a number of highly compromising ones) on Facebook using Lucy's own account (apparently, she doesn't password-protect her phone or have auto-wipe enabled on it either).  Now, everyone hates Lucy for getting them in trouble and publicizing their secrets (amongst which is a picture of Lucy and Cole kissing). What then unfolds is a crazy ride through the politics and gossip of high school, as Lucy joins forces with zombie fighters, her famous movie star sister, a stoner named 420, a foreign exchange student, and an anti-technology student club called (e)VIL to figure out who set Lucy up and why.

The story itself is absurd (in an artistic sense).  Ockler is making some critical observations about technology and the evils of social media, but mostly she is trying to depict how hyper-kinetic adolescent life is in a high tech world.  It's not intended to be a realistic portrayal, but rather exaggerates aspects that will otherwise feel real to young readers.  For me, I found the whole thing as grating as fingernails on a chalkboard (remember those?).  Unlike a book like Libba Bray's Beauty Queens, which was just full-out satire, this one can't really decide if it's going for crazy fun or making a serious point.  Falling somewhere in between it just seemed silly. 

This is particularly illustrated by the characters.  Except for Lucy, none of them felt real.  Many, like 420, Jayla, or the principal were just there for satirical value.  Their contribution is to serve as a foil for the story, but not really to advance it.  And the romance?  Forgetaboutit!  Cole switches between hot and cold as often as my shower while the washing machine is going.  By the end, no one really cares if Lucy and Cole ever manage to get their romance going.

Tape, by Steven Camden

One day, Ameliya finds her late mother's old boom box and tape collection.  Intrigued by them, she decides to listen to all of the tapes.  She finds that one of them contains voices.  For a brief period of time, she feels like she is actually holding a conversation with the voice on the tape.   Later, a stranger coming to the home seems to share the same voice and he has answers for Ameliya.

Thirty years before, Nathan and Ryan have an uneasy relationship as stepbrothers.  They don't like each other but are forced to get along.  What they share is a love for the same girl -- a girl who Ryan hopes to win over with the ultimate mix tape.

It's a confusing story and full of so many non-sequiturs that I won't pretend to understand it.  It took a while to figure out what was going on, but that's fine because the real story doesn't begin until after the first hundred pages.  There's a small bit of a pay-off at the end, but it wasn't nearly enough to make the slog through the rest of it worthwhile.  Allegedly, you can get more out of a re-reading, but I don't want to work that hard to "enjoy" a story.  An interesting experiment, but I simply didn't get it.

The Year of the Rat, by Clare Furniss

After Pearl's mother dies while giving birth to her sister, Pearl tries to cope with her grief and anger.  She blames her stepfather for selfishly demanding that Mom go through with a risky pregnancy (presumably so he could have his "own" child).  She blames the baby (whom she nicknames "the rat").  Mostly, however, she is angry with herself.  Her schoolwork and her friendships are suffering.  And the constant appearance of her mother's ghost provides little comfort.

It's a slow and deliberate story, tracing a year of grieving and recovery (and it doesn't even completely resolve).  The scenes with the dead mother have the potential to drift into supernatural territory but they are played straight and the story, for the most part, leans towards realism.  It is, however, more of reflective tone poem than a story.  Not much happens and the story simply jumps forward from time to time and seemingly random points.

Lying Out Loud, by Kody Keplinger

Sonny has a problem telling the truth.  She's hiding out in her best friend's room -- for months -- allegedly because she was kicked out of the house.  She has trouble holding down an after school job because she keeps lying to her boss.  Despite the fact that her loose relationship with the truth is hurting her, she allegedly can't stop herself.

One night she finds herself texting for the entire night with a guy she thought she hated.  She's discovered that she really likes him.  But as they are signing off he calls her by her BFF's name and she realizes that she's been using her best friend's phone for the entire conversation.  She's afraid to correct him in case he should change his mind about her, and her biggest lie commences.

As any child knows, the more you lie, the more you have to keep on lying (although apparently Sonny's never figured this out and she continues to make her life worse and worse with her lies).  This goes on in painful layer or layer until, inevitably, it all blows up in her face.

I honestly hated this character.  It's pretty much de rigeur to have a character make a few mistakes, but Sonny keeps doing it again and again.  I also don't like liars (who does?) and Sonny's actions come across as selfish and mean -- not that there is any real cost to these failings.  At the end, we get the complete turnaround and the predictable forgiveness from all parties.

It's written well enough and, since it's based on the universe of the popular Duff, I'm sure there is an audience for this, but know what you are getting yourself in for.  For myself, I couldn't stir up any enthusiasm for a young woman with such a profound character flaw.


[Disclosure:  I received an unsolicited ARC of this book in return for my impartial review.  My copy will be recycled.  The book is slated for release on April 28th.]

Backlash, by Sarah Darer Littman

Lara has suffered from self-image problems since she was relentlessly bullied for her weight in middle school.  But now she's shaped up, earned a place on the cheerleading team, picked up a hot boyfriend who's a senior, and gained a lot of confidence.  All of that comes to a screeching halt though when the boyfriend cruelly dumps her on Facebook.  In the face of relentless bullying from her peers and the humiliation she is enduring, Lara tries to take her life.

The attempted suicide fails, but the trauma is just beginning for Lara as she discovers that the boyfriend was fake (she had yet to meet him in person) and in fact the whole thing was a set-up to hurt her.  Just as that realization sets in, another even bigger shocker occurs when she learns the identity of the people who were behind the scam.  The resulting backlash threatens to destroy two formerly-close families and an entire community.

Littman has set out to show how fast and out-of-control little cruelties can go, especially when amplified by social media and the internet.  And in this fast-paced novel, she's done a pretty good job of doing so.  Cyber bullying has featured in a couple other recent novels, but I found this one better than the others I've read so far.  It goes into far more detail about the impact of bullying on the entire family and also explores the roots of it beyond simple petty jealousies.

I cared less for the characters and the ending.  The people in this story are not terribly interesting in themselves (beyond the fledgling romance of Lara's young sister and the boy next door).  Rather, they are mostly a means to the end.  I found the mothers in this book particularly distasteful.  Part of that was for dramatic convenience (making them both self-centered and bitchy provided a convenient excuse for the out-of-control behavior of the families), but there was an overall message that successful working women care more for their careers than for their children.  That message -- intentional or not -- bothered me.  The ending was also a bit rushed.  Lara's recovery is very sudden and not really foreshadowed (as prior to a sudden turnaround she just seemed locked in endless repeat).  Those complaints aside, I still enjoyed the book and recommend it.


[Disclosure:  I requested and received a free copy of the book for the purpose of writing an impartial review.  I'll be donating this copy to my local public library.]

Love & Other Theories, by Alexis Bass

Aubrey and her friends used to suffer from jealousies and snarky cat fights with other girls.  This was all before they evolved and figured out that guys in high school just don’t matter.  The relationships are too short and it’s not like the guys felt any particular loyalty, so why should they?  So, the girls developed the “theories” and learned to take hooking up and “detaching” with a grain of salt.

But when Aubrey meets Nathan, things change for her.  The relationship matters and her feelings are real.  Realizing that that means calling into question the theories, she initially hides and denies the feelings.  But ultimately, she comes to realize what a poor defense the theories have been for her and her friends.

It’s easy to marginalize this story as chick-lit.  It’s just another relationship book about girls angsting about guys.  And there is certainly nothing new about a girl who thinks she’s figured out everything there is to know about love and then being proved wrong by the Right Guy.  Yet, there is something quite enticing about the depth and detail of the relationships depicted here.  The dramas, while adolescent and petty, are real and authentic.  Bass handles her subjects with respect and does a good job of showing why so much of this is actually inevitable.  In a word, she understands the girls and is sympathetic to their plight.

What Waits in the Woods, by Kieran Scott

Four teens go on a multi-day hike in the woods.  The first night, the three experienced hikers decide to scare new girl Callie with ghost stories.  But as things on the trip start to go wrong (they lose their food and get lost) the scary stuff becomes real.  They are being followed and taunted by someone and, even with the help of a stranger they come across, it seems like they may never escape.  That's when the kids start turning up dead.

I'm not a fan of the horror/mystery genre and that probably is preventing me from liking this book, which is otherwise a decent specimen.  But if I step back, it had pretty good pacing and more than enough shocks and screams along the way (although I got a bit tired of having almost every chapter end with a false alarm).  The kids were sufficiently diverse and had a complex set of petty jealousies to put them at each other's necks (even before they started to get broken).  This provided the requisite reasonable doubt and suspicion to keep stuff interesting, and kept me off the scent of the real guilty party.  The key confusion for me was that the book is played like a horror story (teens in the woods getting knocked off by a lone psycho), but turns out in the end to be a simply mystery whodunnit.


[Disclosure:  I received a copy of the book from the publisher in exchange for an unbiased review.  I'll be donating this to my local public library where I hope it will find a fan of scary reads.]

Gracefully Grayson, by Ami Polonsky

There have been a number of decent YA books on transgendered teens, but the offerings for younger readers have been a bit thin, which makes this recent arrival for middle readers particularly interesting.

Sixth-grader Grayson has a secret daydream where he's wearing a dress.  I simply visualizes the clothes he's wearing and transforms them in his mind into pretty girls' clothes.  He doesn't really know why he likes doing this, he just knows that it's something he longs for.  He also longs to hang out with the girls as one of them and join them in their pastimes.  But he also knows, of course, that this isn't done.

Being uncomfortable with boys (and generally excluded from the girls' social circles), he's kept to himself.  But on a whim, he decides to try out for the school play (an adaptation of the myth of Persephone).  And at the last minute during the auditions, he announces that he wants to try out for the part of Persephone herself.  An understanding drama teacher not only lets him try out, but goes on to cast him in the role.  At long last, Grayson will have the opportunity to wear a beautiful dress onstage in front of everyone!

Grayson discovers just how polarizing gender identification can be.  Friends and family stake out clear positions and Grayson has to deal with the painful realization that not everyone will accept who he is and what he wants to be.  His mother, in particular, blames the (gay) drama teacher for allowing this to happen. Through it all, Grayson continues to explore his identity, experimenting with clothing, socializing with girls, and even the dreaded topic of which restroom to use.

It's a revolutionary portrayal of a transgender pre-adolescent.  The book stands out both for its intended target audience and for its frank discussion of the issues involved.  Some reviewers have pointed out that no character ever comes out and says that Grayson's feelings are okay, but there is a good mix of supportive responses from adults and peers.  Readers may be surprised at the cruelty of some of the adults (the homophobic bullying won't surprise much, but is thankfully kept to a minimum), but it provides a good dramatic edge.

Another thing I liked about the book was its sensitivity to gender dysphoria.  Grayson, it is clearly laid out, is no flamboyant drag queen.  He wants to explore what it is like to be a normal girl.  And he is torn by his joy at the welcoming he receives from some of the girls at school and his ongoing fear that he is being mocked and patronized by them at the same time.  His longing to simply be accepted as a girl is portrayed with an honesty that will touch open-minded readers. 

And as for the close minded folks (well-represented by Grayson's principal and his own mother), they can start plotting their book banning plans!

Oblivion, by Sasha Dawn

Callie suffers from graphomania (a condition which causes her to experience an irresistible urge to write).  A year ago, around the same time that her father (an abusive fallen priest) and a young woman in the parish went missing, she was found writing "I killed him" endlessly on the walls of an abandoned attic.  While she seemed an unlikely culprit, the authorities did suspect that her condition was brought on by having borne witness to what  happened.  So they have her working with a counselor to try to regain her memories.  That work and the help of a guy at school trigger more episodes that begin linking her writing (while seeming nonsense and gibberish) to solving the mystery.

It's a complicated story and a hard one at first to latch on to.  There's a lot of violence as well as disturbing imagery.  While almost everything gets tied up in the end, it's hard in the first read to see how this will all gel together.  As always, I tend to favor simpler and more direct stories.  Pushed to streamline things, I'd point to the needless conflict between Callie and Lindsay (the daughter of Callie's foster parents) -- it never really came together and didn't have much purpose.  However, this is well-crafted and you may prefer the complexity.

Complicit, by Stephanie Kuehn

The social worker considered it a miracle when she was able to place Jamie and his sister Cate together in the same home, and even more so that the adopting family was a rich couple.  The children’s mother had been murdered and the children themselves were hardly the babies preferred by most adopting parents.  From the start, Jamie was the difficult one (nightmares, painfully shy, etc.) while Cate easily adapted to the new family. But as they grew older, Cate’s behavior became anti-social and violent until the day she confessed to an arson and was sent away to a juvenile facility.  Jamie, meanwhile, grew out of his behavior issues, but was haunted by Cate’s misadventures and her threats.

After years of being bullied by his sister, Jamie was relieved when she was sent away.  The news that she has now been released terrifies him.  And when she starts making threatening phone calls, his own behavior problems begin to reemerge.

A dark psychological thriller.  The plot twist in the story is fairly strongly telegraphed so it is not a major surprise.  However, the ending is definitely a shocker.  In this respect, the story seemed well-plotted.  However, there are a lot of loose end and unanswered questions (What are his adoptive parents up to? What does his therapist actually know?  What’s up with his girlfriend?).  These are not major plot points and it leaves you wondering why they were present at all? Eliminating and tightening up the parts of the story that mattered would have improved my impressions of the novel, yet there’s no denying that the story kept me on the edge of my seat and had a suitably creepy and haunting ending that made it all worthwhile.

The Edge of Falling, by Rebecca Serle

Caggie lives in the lap of New York luxury, in a world where everything is possible and costs don't matter.  But her picture perfect family is shattered when her younger sister dies in a drowning accident.  Caggie blames herself for the accident and it is obvious that her family doesn't entirely disagree.  Her life has become flat and the things that used to matter to her (her boyfriend, her position on the school paper, her friends) no longer do.  Even the attention given to her for saving another girl's life last year (after her sister's accident) feels hollow.

Then she meets Astor, a boy unencumbered by a past and willing to leave hers alone.  He's the only one who doesn't force her to confront her grief, and instead just lets her live in the moment.  However, what is he hiding from?  And is it even more dangerous than what haunts Caggie?

A story ostensibly about grief, but with so little to say about it that it instead relies on other themes to fill its pages.  For the first half, that theme is life in Manhattan as a super rich and famous teenager.  Serle delights in name-dropping places showing us in great detail what it is like to live without a financial worry in the world.  That type of voyeurism never did much for me, but will appeal to the Teen Vogue crowd.  The latter part of the book (and it's quite late!) sees the story shift into a weak psychological thriller.  Astor gets creepy (but not too creepy) and we worry for a bit about Caggie's safety.  There's also some attempt to have her break through her grief, but I didn't really buy it.  Serle does a great job of creating a setting and building the scenery but doesn't do as good work with directing her actors.