First & Then, by Emma Mills

Devon feels like she is drifting through life.  She’s in denial about being infatuated with her friend Cas.  She’s avoiding the entire subject of college.  And she’s definitely not interested in football star Ezra.  But things are changing around her:  her cousin Foster has come to live with her family, Cas has become distant and inaccessible, and Ezra turns out to be really nice.  The rest of it all is predictable light teen romance stuff.

There’s some potential here to explore the expansion of Devon’s family and the relationship between Devon and her cousin is nicely played.  But overall, not much happens here of note.  There’s jealousy and some crossed signals, the obligatory Jane Austen love fest (second only in popularity in YA to out-of-date music – a trope which is blissfully absent here!).  For the most part, though, the characters are forgettable and hard to distinguish.  Unfortunately, the story as a whole is as well.

Under the Egg, by Laura Marx Fitzgerald

As Theo's grandfather lies dying he tells her to look "under the egg." This cryptic message actually makes sense to her as there is a prominent painting over the mantle of an egg that he painted.  So, she looks where he told her, checking every corner and crack around and behind the painting, but finds nothing.  That is, until she discovers that the painting covers a richer and far older artwork:  a painting that Theo comes to believe (on the basis of her strong familiarity with art) might be a lost work of Raphael.

But why would the family possess such a priceless work of art?  Where did it come from?  And does the fact that her grandfather used to work as a security guard at the Met mean that it might in fact have been stolen?  With the help of another girl and a motley collection of characters including an Indian hot nut vendor, a priest with an art history background, a burly librarian, an eccentric French tea seller, her absent-minded mother, and her backyard flock of chickens, Theo finds her grandfather was much more than she ever imagined.

A middle grade mystery with lots of interesting historical notes, most notably about the theft of art from the Jews during World War II.  There is plenty of lighter material on exotic teas, urban chicken farming, and (of course) art history.  In many ways, it's a bit of a heavy work for middle grade readers, but the sensibilities are all appropriate.  You won't find a romantic thread here, but the girls are resourceful and brave, the story educational, and the pace brisk.  I found it fun and enjoyable.

A Step Toward Falling, by Cammie McGovern

When Emily and a football player named Lucas confess to failing to report a rape they witness, their school assigns 40 hours of community service at a center for people with disabilities (the victim Belinda is herself developmentally disabled).  But the service doesn't bring either of the teens closer to terms with what happened or with a desire to achieve closure with the victim.

Belinda meanwhile struggles with understanding what happened to her and, after some time at home, becomes anxious to return to public life, where she sees Emily and Lucas again.  This sets off some awkwardness, but the teens find common ground and develop friendship and mutual understanding.  Told in turns by Emily and Belinda, the story explores relationship building through the surprisingly similar views of the two girls.

The most powerful part of the novel for me was the way that McGovern showed how alike the two girls are.  While Belinda obviously has more trouble expressing herself and was not always so developmentally mature, there was still much that the girls shared in common, with their same anxieties and desires.  The story achieves a sensitive portrayal of developmental disability that is honest and insightful.  Emily's and Belinda's strengths and flaws are critically (yet sympathetically) treated and revealed a lot.

I did have trouble accepting that the guilt of the Emily and Lucas was as big of a deal as the story wanted it to be.  Part of the problem is that they are such sympathetic protagonists that the story sets them up to be forgivable (McGovern hedges their culpability with a lot of mitigating circumstances).  But is also just seemed a stretch to claim that what Emily and Lucas did (or did not) do was such a heinous offense.  I wonder if the story might have been stronger without that element which, while central, seemed forced and unnatural.

The Girl from Everywhere, by Heidi Heilig

Nix and her father travel between times and places. But they are far from rootless.  Dad is obsessed with getting back to Honolulu in 1868, when Nix's mother was still alive.  He could get there if he could find a map of Oahu made in that year.  With their ship and her father's talents, all it takes is a map to sail to any place or time, real or imaginary.  But getting the right map is tricky.

What seems like a solution at last leaves them tantalizingly close:  in Hawai’i, but two decades too late.  And instead of finding what they want, and become embroiled in a fantastical plot to destroy the monarchy and force the islands into America’s grasp.

A stunning and novel fantasy that combines motley characters, a small dash of real history, and a great psychological conflict between father and daughter.  It doesn’t always make sense and there is little emotional depth, but it is a thrilling adventure with lots of fun moments.  A dash of Indiana Jones with a TARDIS thrown in for good measure!

Roses, by G. R. Mannering

She is a foundling and her mother and father a mystery.  But when she is brought to Ma Dane's home she is taken in without a word.  Her silvery skin and amethyst eyes scare everyone in town.  They fear her and they hate her, and yet call her "Beauty." Raised cruelly, she lives in loneliness broken only by her discovery of her talent with and love for horses.  Yet even those early days are idyllic compared to what awaits her when she must flee for her life.  Mortals and magic beings break out in war.  Though she claims no magic of her own, her appearance is enough to make her suspect and threatens her existence.

Life in exile has additional challenges and Beauty and the stable hand of her old home who helped her escape struggle to integrate her into life in the hills with superstitious mountain people.  Despite the challenges, they manage and flourish until a day when he is delayed returning home.  When he does return, in poor health and bearing a curse, Beauty must ride into an enchanted forest where a terrible and ghastly creature awaits her.

It's a very dark and languorous retelling of  Beauty and the Beast (but one where the Beast doesn't even appear until 200 pages in!).  Instead, the focus is on Beauty's life before the two encounter each other.  Mannering's attempt to subvert the Disneyfication of the story is brilliant, from the early destruction of the candelabra (poor Lumiere!) to the fact that Beauty arrives illiterate.  In this world, the enchanted furnishing are sinister and threatening, not inviting us to dance.  And themes of jealousy and vengeance predominate.

Mannering's style is fast-paced but also quite busy.  Many characters and subplots are introduced, but not all are resolved (lending to future twists in the sequels, one supposes).  The writing itself is full of cliches and prone to overstatement.  The snow did not merely fall in this world, but instead it "fluttered from the gaping sky like pearly droplets." A character does not walk into a room, but enters "with a sweep of her bejeweled dressing gown." And so on.  The words are very pretty, but largely chosen without regard for furthering the meaning of the story.  It grows tiresome as we go and one just starts skipping adjectives, adverbs, and empty metaphors.

Dumplin', by Julie Murphy

Go big or go home.  Willowdean (or "Dumplin'" as her Mom calls her) has always been a husky girl.  And while she's generally comfortable with her body, it has not escaped her notice that her mother isn't.  Mom is a former Miss Teen Blue Bonnet queen and the obsessed organizer of the pageant.  She'd wish her daughter were one of the thin wisps worthy of a crown, or at least try to become one.  Will naturally resents this and hatches a plot to settle the matter for all by competing in the pageant.  Much to Willowdean's delight, her mother is horrified by the thought.  Far from a victory, though, even Will recognizes that she faces not simply defeat, but also humiliation and ridicule on the walkway.  And in spite of her confidence, Will's relationship with her body is complicated.  When a handsome and athletic boy named Bo shows an interest in her, she can't accept that she is worthy of his affection.

I enjoyed Murphy's sophisticated take on body self-image.  I also liked the complexity of the relationships in Willowdean's life (whether with Bo, her BFF El, friend Mitch, or her mother).  But the story was cluttered with characters and subplots, and it suffered from its ambition.  Concepts like Will's love of Dolly Parton or the rather crucial loss of Will's beloved aunt seemed buried amidst so many less-important threads.  Thus, this was a near miss -- many wonderful ideas, but imperfectly realized.

Liar & Spy, by Rebecca Stead

When Georges and his family move in to the building, and he's urged by his father to meet some new kids, he’s not sure he wants to make any new friends.  But a sign in the basement announcing a “Spy Club” sounds like fun.  It turns out to be run by a boy his age named Safer.  Safer’s a little strange, spending the day watching the building’s other tenants and spying on them.  He convinces Georges that one of the tenants is actually a murderer and recruits Georges to help him uncover the crime.

Meanwhile, Georges struggles at school with bullies, with missing his Mom who’s stuck at the hospital where she works, and the whole relocation.  But Safer’s adventures provide him with distraction and escape until Georges learns that things aren't exactly the way safer has presented them.

Liar & Spy is a compact story with a lot of twists (perhaps a few more than were actually necessary).  It's a fun read that explores what I'll call the purpose of truth and the value of lies.  If that seems an unfairly cryptic summary, it's still the best I can do without providing spoilers.  I found it original and fascinating, in a way that Stead's books often are.

Ava and Pip, by Carol Weston

Taking a brief break from traumatized teens to pick up a light and thoroughly enjoyable middle reader....

Ava is a whiz with words.  She's a perfect speller (acing every test in fifth grade) and fascinated with palindromes, homonyms, metaphors, similes, and everything else word-related.  She's also quite a writer.  But most of all, she's a loyal sibling.  Seeing her older sister Pip struggling to navigate the social minefields of seventh grade, mobilizes Ava to take action.  When a new girl in school Bea lures all of Pip's friends away, Ava pens a story that attacks the girl.  It seems harmless and cathartic, but when the story gets published, Ava discovers that being nasty to others has a way of coming back to you.

I grew a bit weary of the wordplay, but younger readers will probably find much of it to be giggle-worthy.  What I did like was the close relationship of Ava and Pip, and the honest and open communication between the maligned Bea and Ava.  In fact, pretty much all of the human interactions in the book felt honest and real. After reading so many books for teens where the drama usually centers around people not communicating, it's nice to see children and adults being intelligent and responsible, even when they are also flawed.  It would have been so easy to blow up the conflicts in this book, but Weston lets everyone just work things out.  The overall result is a gentle story about kids learning communication and social navigation skills.

The Summer I Found You, by Jolene Perry

Kate and Aidan are both battling their private demons and more alike than they (or anyone else) realizes.  She's struggling with a recent diagnosis as a diabetic, mostly in denial and failing to manage her condition.  He's an injured vet, missing an arm, and unable to come to terms with his change in fortune or what his options for the future are.  At first, the two of them find solace in living in denial of their situations together.  But as the real world makes that less and less feasible, they come to understand that, if they value their relationship together, they need to take some time out and fix up their lives.

Two interesting protagonists with a painfully obvious solution in front of them.  I'll agree it isn't easy to make the right decisions even when they are blatantly obvious.  However, it is a strain on the reader to maintain interest in a story line that relies upon keeping the characters stubborn as long as is feasibly possible.  That can feel a bit artificial.  Especially so, when resolving the drama is achieved by simply having the characters change their minds. And while I get how events pushed Kate into cleaning up her life, I'm less convinced by Aidan's eventual coming round.

Kissing Ted Callahan (and Other Guys), by Amy Spalding

When the other two members of their band start dating each other, Riley and Reid decide they need to start doing serious research and catch up.  They decide to start a journal, taking turns making notes about their attempts to win over their crushes and also offer each other advice about the opposite sex.  Reid, nervous and insecure, struggles to accept that anyone could love him, but Riley dives in headfirst with three separate guys.  There's Garrick (the boy with a famous TV star ex-), Milo (older and capable of scoring fake IDs for getting into over-21 shows), and most importantly Ted Callahan -- Riley's #1 crush.  But shuffling all these guys soon becomes too complicated to manage, let alone document.

Witty and humorous, this is a fluffy book.  I didn't really find Riley's tales of conquest all that interesting and Reid's ethically-suspect romantic pursuit strategies (involving pretending to adopt a pet) didn't click for me.  More than usual, this is a book for a different demographic that takes the story in the casual way for which it was intended.  At least it's a fast read!

The Summer I Wasn't Me, by Jessica Verdi

When Lexi’s mother finds her secret portfolio of drawings, Mom freaks out at their homoerotic content.  Mom’s been unstable since Dad passed away and Lexi is terrified that this incident will push her over the edge.  So, when her mother demands that Lexi enroll at a treatment facility to get cured of her “disease,” Lexi feels powerless to resist.  Even though she knows that her sexual attraction to girls is unlikely to change.

Lexi is sent to the New Horizons program, a residential program of brainwashing and indoctrination to learn how to “de-gay” herself.  Much of the process seems to involve being coerced into traditional gender roles as well as adopting heterosexual behavior.  With her mother’s sanity on the line, Lexi is desperate to somehow straighten her life out.  But the program and her new friends there have the opposite effect.

It’s hard to ignore the offensiveness of the religious stereotyping that goes on in the novel.  At the very least, there are a lot of cheap shots as the obviously hypocritical adults spout off soundbites culled from an urban liberal's idea of what conservative Christians believe. At best, Verdi is just being a lazy writer (and not a bigot!), but it soured me on the book.  And by the time that the “exorcist” showed up, Verdi basically flew into absurdity, dragging out every stupid and offensive stereotype about organized religion she could find.

Moving beyond the offensive stuff, Lexi's journey is enjoyable to follow.  From starry-eyed romantic to a young woman willing to commit her life to another person, Lexi’s growth as a person (and maturing of her sexual orientation) is dramatic and stunning.  She’s helped along the way by strong and complex characters like Matthew (who talks tough yet carries secret fears), the beautiful Caroline (who submits to brainwashing and painful interrogations because she can’t come to terms with herself), and Daniel’s fear-driven Judas act.

So, I liked the characters and much of the story, but for a much more compelling and nuanced story about reparative therapy, see Emily Danforth's The Miseducation of Cameron Post (reviewed on May 19, 2012). It contains much of what I liked here and skips the unnecessary digs against religion.

Five Summers, by Una LaMarche

Four girls spent five summers together at a camp in New England.  Three years after their last summer together, they've come back for a camp reunion.  They approach their gathering with mixed emotions, but they all underestimate how much they had changed since those summers.  Coming back together highlights not just those changes, but also exposes secrets that they never revealed to each other in the past, despite their closeness.  Doing so now threatens to destroy friendships that they expected would last forever.

This is the novel I thought Proof of Forever (reviewed a month ago) was going to be (and it would have been albeit for it's weird fantasy twist) -- a story of childhood friendships revisited and infantile relationships matured.  There's a tremendous potential emotional punch here as the girls strip each other bare through sheer familiarity.  However, LaMarche has trouble delivering that punch.  The first 250 pages of this novel dragged for me as we traveled through rising tensions and unrevealing flashbacks.  In the last 100 pages, the book starts to pay off and the actual climactic blow up is gripping, but it deflated fast afterwards.

I liked the girls and their quirks and differences were well-portrayed.  The setting felt authentic and sent me back on a nostalgic trip through my own experiences with sleep-over camp in New England.  But the story just dragged and then, just as it was getting interesting, came to a screeching halt.  Unlike her more compelling sophomore effort (Like No Other), this first novel doesn't stand out.

Kissing in America, by Margo Rabb

Eva is obsessed with romance novels, and in the two years since her father died she's read over a hundred of them (slacker!).  But now she's had a taste of the real thing with Will -- a boy who seems to really get her.  That is, until he moves away to California, leaving her bereft (much to the chagrin of her feminist academic mother).  All seems lost to Eva until her best friend Annie wins a slot on a game show taping in Los Angeles.  This provides a pretext for Eva and Annie to set off on an unlikely road trip across the continent, finding out a great deal about their families and the nature of love along the way.

An entertaining story of high improbability that explores some of the more irrational elements of romantic obsession.  I found Eva herself to be grating and melodramatic.  Ironically, this makes her funny at times, but there's no getting away from how self-absorbed she is.  Most of the rest of the characters are stereotypes (some of them -- like the cowboys in Texas -- are lazy and borderline offensive).  But I don't think that depicting great characters was the point!   Somewhat more crucial is the dearth of actual romance in this tribute to love.  Despite the book's title, there doesn't really seem to be that much kissing going on across the country!

My Life After Now, by Jessica Verdi

Lucy has a slew of problems (absent mother, straying boyfriend, failure to get the lead in the school's production of Romeo and Juliet, etc.), but all of these pale compared to the consequences of one irresponsible evening.  Finding herself HIV-positive changes everything and puts the rest in perspective  The bulk of the novel then depicts how she struggles with the diagnosis and with how to relate to her family and friends in this new light.

I found the storytelling pedantic at times, like Verdi was lecturing us, and Lucy's character was uneven and inconsistent.  But overall, there are so many wonderful scenes in this novel that I can forgive the rough spots along the way.  The story's crowded and cluttered plot became surprisingly organic and the author seemed quite comfortable with complicated and fitting together initially unrelated characters.  I liked the story's overall message that life truly does go on, even if you're struggling with a terminal illness.  Finally, there's something to be said for bringing out an HIV story in this day and age.  I haven't seen one in a long time and it isn't a bad thing to dust it off and remind younger readers that AIDS still kills even if it's not in the headlines much anymore.

The Memory of Light, by Francisco X. Stork

After a failed suicide attempt, Vicky spends several weeks in a hospital, where she befriends three other young people struggling with suicidal tendencies.  She quickly comes to understand how depression has brought her to this point and seeks to sort out its triggers and how to overcome it.  But she must also deal with her family's unwillingness to acknowledge her needs.  And, seeing that resistance, she has to find the strength to push back for what she needs.

Suicide and depression are important subjects, but I didn't find this treatment to be particularly compelling.  The kids are nice enough and do a great job of illustrating different manifestations of depression, but so much of their discussions seemed like frivolous filler.  There's some effort to explain mindsets, but I didn't really learn much about mental illness, except how easy it is to backslide.

Crow Mountain, by Lucy Inglis

Hope has been dragged by her mother from exciting London to boring Montana, to spend a month on a ranch while Mom researches the local ecosystem.  There's a cute boy (of course!) with a mysterious past, but otherwise not much to keep her occupied with, until she uncovers a long-forgotten journal.

The journal is written by another English girl named Emily who came through Montana in the mid-19th century.  On her way to Portland to unite with her future husband, Emily's trip goes awry and she is rescued by a frontiersman (with a mysterious past) hiding in the wilds.  At first reluctant to stay and eager to get away, Emily eventually comes to love him.  This leads her to reconsider her plans for the future and discover the joys of frontier life.

Meanwhile, in the present, Hope and her current-day mystery man embark on a trip of their own, which also goes awry.  A series of adventures occur that parallel Emily's in the past.

It ends up being a nice mix of history and adventure.  The bad guys felt a bit over-the-top and I hope Inglis got her historical detail better than her contemporary ones ("passport control" in Helena MT?!), but I enjoyed both stories and the way that they intertwined.  The historical stuff reminded me of Cold Comfort Mountain in a good way and was the more interesting section of the novel.  Overall, this was exciting and engaging, with four strong characters and fluid storytelling.


[Disclaimer:  I received an Advance Reviewers Copy of this book in exchange for an unbiased review.  This book is slated for release on May 31, 2016.]

Up To This Pointe, by Jennifer Longo

When her life plan of getting a position as a professional ballerina fails, Harper Scott decides to flee as far away from San Francisco as she can go.  She ends up at McMurdo Station in Antarctica, following in the footsteps of her distant ancestor, Robert Scott.  It's the winter and a brutal time to be in the harshest environment on Earth.  But the isolation and climate suits Harper.

Told through alternating chapters of her earlier failure at home and of her search for healing in the present, the novel is an engaging story of failure and reinvention.

There is a terrible melodramatic potential to the idea that a young person can be so wrapped up in a childhood dream that they fall apart -- so much potential in fact that it is instinctive to not take her seriously.  But as the story unfolds, it becomes clearer how deeply embroiled she was and why it was possible for her to be so devastated.  And, by the end, Longo had convinced me that Harper had truly suffered.  The rest was easier.  Strong and interesting characters, fascinating details about ballet and Antarctic life, a surprisingly effective Shakespearean plot device, and an engaging story made this a fun read.  The ending is bit too cheery and happy, but it felt earned (so I'll let it mostly slide!).

Althea & Oliver, by Cristina Moracho

Althea and Oliver have been neighbors and friends for ages.  Althea would like their friendship to bloom into something bigger, but Oliver is reluctant.  He's got bigger issues -- suffering from a sleep disorder that causes him to experience black outs that span multiple weeks.  He'd like to find a cure and just be a normal person.  The combination is combustible and Althea makes an error in judgment that drives Oliver away.  Coincidentally, a research study has been announced in New York that Oliver can participate in.  That it gets him away from Althea is a not-so-insignificant side benefit.

Distraught from their separation, Althea gets suspended from school and runs away from home, following Oliver to New York.  Meanwhile, with lots of time in the hospital to think back on what has happened, Oliver begins to regret his decision to flee. All might have been well if they had managed to reconnect, but fate works against them and they are both plunged into the wilderness.  Surprisingly, this turns out to be exactly what both of them need.

It's a weird story that I found hard to track.  More precisely, it is really two separate stories.  Both of them are seeking to change their own lives, but there have very different paths to take.  This is quite obvious from the beginning and, despite Moracho's attempt to depict them as close friends, I never noticed much chemistry between them. They were both interesting characters, but at their best when they were on their own.  And while the novel was vibrant and original, Moracho's dialogue-heavy style didn't work for me.  Instead, I found it a hard slog getting through lengthy conversations that I could not understand or see the relevance of to the story.

I'm From Nowhere, by Suzanne Myers

Wren's mother gets a once in a lifetime opportunity to work in Greenland, but she can't take Wren with her.  Instead, she enrolls her daughter at Hardwick - an exclusive boarding school.  The move surprises Wren because all of her life she's listened to her Mom complain about how awful that place was.  But within days, there she is with some hastily-bought cold weather clothes and a new Gibson guitar.

Being at her Mom's alma mater gives Wren an opportunity of her own to learn about her Mom's history.  And harnessing her detective skills, she tries to uncover her mother's biggest mystery -- who is Wren's father? But as she comes closer to an answer, tragedy strikes and a series of events unfold that teach Wren a lesson in the true meaning of family.

While plagued by some pretty crazy fantasy and a few glaring improbabilities, this is actually a lovely story.  The key is Wren herself -- one of the more no-nonsense YA heroines of recent memory.  She's far from perfect, but comes with great composure, refusing to be dragged down into dramatics.  The story is straightforward and free of angst.  Even the story's foil (a snooty bully) never really fazes her and the slight bit of romance is pretty matter of fact.

Proof of Forever, by Lexa Hillyer

Two years after the last summer that Zoe, Joy, Tali, and Luce spent at camp together, they come back for a campers' reunion.  That last summer had been very special, but they have long since moved on.  Seeing each other is awkward and each of the girls is dealing with issues of their own that distract them from enjoying seeing each other again.

But then a freak incident in a photo booth transports the four girls back in time to that summer two years ago.  And they find themselves in a week-long do-over.  At first, they are convinced that they must reenact the past exactly how it originally happened.  But it quickly becomes apparent that not only do they not remember the past well enough, but that things are different this time around.  Or perhaps, it is they that are different?  In the process of reliving the most memorable week of their lives through their older and wiser selves, they discover that what they remember and what actually was going on are entirely different things .

I loved the idea of a story which combined summer camp fiction with the buddy girl story (the blurb hypes this as the new Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants) and threw in a little time travel to boot.  Admittedly, the time travel is the weakest part of the story -- it's poorly explained and makes little sense -- but since it is not essential to the story, it can be easily forgotten.  The girls are all interesting and the process of discovery through a critical reexamination of their past was lots of fun.  I was less taken with the plot's slow pacing (the ending really did seem to drag -- there were simply too many events -- talent show, fencing competition, scavenger hunt, etc. to get through).  It could have been trimmed down a lot!

Underwater, by Marisa Reichardt

A survivor of a school shooting, Morgan may be considered "lucky," but she couldn't feel farther from it.  Since the tragedy, she's been home bound, terrified of leaving the house.  She takes her classes by correspondence, barely bothers to get dressed, and eats the same meal every day.  When a new boy named Evan moves in next door and (annoyingly) won't leave her alone, it awakens a desire in Morgan to try to reclaim her previous life.  But the pain is always overwhelming to her and getting back out into the world is scary and maybe just a bit too much for her to deal with.

A heartfelt book that sensitively explores trauma, anxiety, and recovery.  I liked this better than the other book about a school shooting (This Is Where It Ends) that I finished earlier this week.  Neither book explores the shooter's perspective, but I felt that Reichardt did a much better job of exploring what it means to be a survivor, expressing Morgan's fears, guilt, and willpower.  Some minor elements (like the subplot about Morgan's estranged Dad and his PTSD) seemed a bit clunky, but the novel got Morgan's journey right and provided a heart warming, but unsentimental, tale of a strong young woman coming back from the brink of madness.

Time Between Us, by Tamara Ireland Stone

In 1995, Anna meets Bennett, a boy from seventeen years in the future, who has traveled back in search of his sister (he lost her on a previous trip through time).  However, he falls for Anna and stays because of her.  But there are issues with remaining and, while no one understands the dangers of his presence in the past, he fears that it could cause great harm.

Time travel stories are not that common in YA and the combination of teen romance with such a fantasy premise is appealing.  It helps that both Anna and Bennett are likeable and that they make a good couple.  Also, that it's intelligent writing (time travel books have to be to grasp at all the paradoxes and Stone does a good job of laying out the logic and the principles of time travel without slowing things down during most of the book).  Some of that pacing is lost towards the end, but it mostly comes together.  What does get lost are some of the subplots (like Anna's running or her relationship with her friend Justin), but overall the novel worked for me and I found it entertaining.

This Is Where It Ends, by Marieke Nijkamp

An outcast boy traps his classmates in their school's auditorium and then opens fire, methodically settling scores with his tormentors.  Told in alternating viewpoints by four of his classmates (but crucially, not from the shooter's viewpoint), the story briskly covers forty or so minutes of terror and mayhem.  Each of the narrators have ample opportunity to reflect on what they know about the shooter and his victims.

Despite the dramatic potential of the story, there isn't much of a tale to tell.  People ruminate and tremble with fear, while others die.  And with a large cast of characters, it was hard to get overly attached so the casualties are mostly just a body count.I never felt invested in anyone, although I remained curious about who would live and who would die.

I am stuck on the question of what it is all for?  It's a lively adventure, but what is the appeal?  There's certainly not much of an exploration of what drives a person to commit such an act.  And none of the characters seem to have grown from the experience.

Beyond Clueless, by Linas Alsenas

Marty is starting her freshman year at a Catholic girls' school, separated from her best friend Jimmy, who's staying on in public school.  Jimmy thrives at his school, coming out (to no one's surprise) and making lots of new friends.  Marty though feels lost and confused.  She's not exactly friendless, having met a sharp tongued girl named Xiang, but she still feels socially awkward.  Her love of theater leads her to try out for the school musical and it turns out to be the way to break through her issues.  Jimmy brings his new friends over to help out and Marty herself catches the eye of a gorgeous upperclassman.  But people are acting funny around her and she can't figure out what is going on.

A fast paced friendship drama -- full of the twists and turns one expects in ninth grade.  I enjoyed Marty and her honest emotions and her snarky friend Xiang is a highlight.  The boys did less for me.  There are numerous characters here and neither Felix (the love interest), Jimmy, or Oliver (or any of the other friends) left much of an impression.  I did start to wonder where the story was heading mid way through and, while the ending does a decent job of sorting out thing, I was as clueless as Marty about what was going on in the story.  That may have been due to my inattentive reading, but the clean wrap up in the end seemed a bit of a cheat.  So, I'd call this novel great for character development, but confusing and hard to follow.

No Shame, No Fear, by Ann Turnbull

In seventeenth century England, taking a political stand could be a life-endangering choice.  And choosing to follow a religious creed which challenged the social order could easily get you accused of sedition.  Susanna's father sits in jail for refusing to pay tithes or swear fealty to the Crown.  And Susanna herself must leave their small village seek her fortune in town.  There she encounters more persecution but also befriends an idealistic gentry lad who is sympathetic to her faith.  Love develops between them, but it coexists with cruel persecutions.

A stunning and gritty portrayal of the brutal persecution of the early Quakers.  The novel badly needed some historical notes to explain to readers what was depicted (it helped tremendously that I have just read George Fox's Journal a few months ago).  But aside from the fact that the novel will confuse people, I found it compelling.  The two lovers are endearing in their passionate youthful obsession with each other, but the commitment they make to their faith makes an even stronger impression.  It's a fascinating historical adventure with a sequel that I am looking forward to reading.

Rules for 50/50 Chances, by Kate McGovern

Ever since Rose's mother was diagnosed with Huntington's disease, Rose has lived in fear -- fear of what it would do to her mother and to their family, but also fear of whether she too would get sick some day.  While there is still plenty of time before she could start to show symptoms, the 50/50 chance that they will appear hangs over her and holds her back.

Then, as she is about to turn eighteen, she meets Caleb, a black boy with two family members suffering from sickle-cell.  He challenges her notions about race and her fear of getting sick and pushes her to overcome what is holding her back.  It couldn't come at a more opportune moment as her talent in dance blossoms into the chance of a lifetime to attend an elite ballet school.

It's a novel with a mix of big ideas.  There's the heavy subject of a family coping with chronic illness and a frank look at race and prejudice.  And then there is all this little stuff (falling in love, pursuing dreams, etc.).  Having all this stuff going on probably makes the book seem like a mess, but McGovern juggles it all flawlessly.  But again, the highlight for me turned out to be her treatment of Rose's notions of race.  Caleb insightfully probes Rose's racial privilege (one of my favorite scenes is when she protests that she is colorblind to race and he retorts that he wants the fact that he is black to be acknowledged and does not want her to ignore him).  It's sophisticated stuff and moves us beyond tired tropes of political correctness.  And while Rose frequently comes across badly as both naive and self-centered, there is an honesty and logic to the relationship that drew me in.  And yes, there was a dying mother too.