Becoming Naomi Leon, by Pam Munoz Ryan

Naomi lives in a trailer park with her mildly-handicapped brother and her great grandmother taking care of them. But things change when he long-absent mother reappears and wants to take Naomi away. Rather than be forced to leave her belovewd brother and Gram, they flee south to Mexico and search for her father. Along the way, Naomi discovers Mexico and a little bit of herself.

This is an absolutely charming book. I've been reading so many teen angst books that I've forgotten that children's books don't have to be about falling in love for the first time. And Ryan takes us to territory (not only in a physical sense of the state of Oaxaca, but in the emotional sense) that YA literature rarely goes. This is a deep exploration of the heart and family. It is also a gentle story with a good sense of wit (the chapter titles alone are wonderful), and a with good payoff in the end. Highly recommended.

Saint Jude, by Dawn Wilson

Too messed up for the outside world, but not sick enough for an institution, a groupf of misfit teens find a home at saint Jude -- a psychiatric half-way house. There taylor learns a little about love and a little about love, as one by one, each of them move on to the real world and graduate.

Looking beyond the shoddy production (rarely do I notice how badly typeset and edited a book is), Wilson has a lot of neat things to say. This is sort of a cross between One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest and The Breakfast Club, with much of the charm of both stories. There's a love story that never quite goes anywhere and teen pranks. No real story, but at least a satisfying conclusion. Not a classic, but a good read.

If You Come Softly, by Jacqueline Woodson

A story about true love between teens, with a twist: Jeremiah is Black and Elsie is Jewish. But they have a lot in common and this isn't a stereotypical Guess Who's Coming To Dinner story (although the novel includes a reference to that one).

A big warning: the book concludes with a massive whammy that is only faintly foreshadowed in the book. That will feel a lot like a cheat, as if Woodson couldn't bring herself to end the book in the way its dramatic arc was heading. But moreover, the characters are terribly mature for a pair of 15 year olds. And maybe just a bit too perfect. I really longed for some sign of self-centeredness or some mistake or something to go wrong, but that never happens in books where the message is political rather than literary.

And I guess that brings me to a side comment about race books. I find that I don't tend to enjoy them and, in fact, try to avoid them. At first I figured that is because of an affluent white who can barely relate to the milieu. But I think it is more than that. When a book becomes an issue book (be it race, sexual orientation, disease, etc), it loses something. When characters get sacrificed for the sake of an issue, the story suffers. Why couldn't Elsie or Miah be a bit imperfect? Because that would have suggested that interracial dating was imperfect and Woodson couldn't risk that. Too much riding on the issue to allow for some human imperfection here. Or maybe Woodson can't imagine the world of a living teen, but she seems like a better writer than that.

Unexpected Development, by Marlene Perez

Megan lusts after Jake Darrow, but unfortunately Jake has a serious girlfriend. That is, until they break up and now Jake is available. But that is the least of Megan's worries as she struggles with learning to trust Jake's interested in her, and not just in her ample bosom.

Perhaps I've read too many of these, but this novel is terribly dull, basically an account of boring life in nowhere Iowa in the summer as teens drink and party and hook up. There are lecherous adults and lecherous teenagers. There are a lot of dialog scenes that don't amount to much, and characters who we're kept terribly distant from. Perez has some great ideas, but I'd have found Megan to be a much more interesting character for a Middle School book (the flashbacks to her coping with the attention her breasts get her as she was growing up are lightyears more interesting than her Junior year in high school). A disappointment.

Define "Normal," by Julie Anne Peters

Antonia the straight-A good girl volunteers to be a peer counselor and gets saddled with Jazz the troublemaker and punk rocker. But as the two girls try to stumble through peer counseling together, they discover that their lives are strikingly similar, and that the counselor might be in just as much need of counseling.

A good read and a heart-warming story, without any sacharine bits to ruin the fun. This isn't deep reading, but it is a good book and enjoyable. The characters surprise us, but in ways that are believable, and that makes turning the pages so enjoyable.

The Blue Mirror, by Kathe Koja

Maggy doesn't really "do" school, and living with her alcoholic "mother" is not much of a life, but at least down at the Blue Mirror she can express herself with her drawing, especially with the fantasy of Cole, a charismatic street child. But when Cole steps out of fantasy to become her boyfriend, Maggy discovers the dangerous side of the streets and has to grapple her way back to reality.

For the first third of this book, I was pretty certain this was going to rank down at the very bottom of my list, but it slowly redeems itself...slightly. Koje writes in an annoying train-of-consciousness style where things are half-answered and storylines jump about chaotically. That makes for pretty tedious reading, and really makes it hard to relate to the characters.

At the Back of the Woods, by Claudia Mills

When Emily moves to the neighborhood, she astounds the other girls (and Clarisse in particular) by her fearlessness. Emily fears nothing, least of all crazy old Mrs Spinelli, who everyone else is convinced is a witch. But when Emily encounters something that is afraid of, Clarisse realizes that there is a big difference between Emily's fearlessness and true bravery.

I've now read a good number of Claudia Mills's books, and this may well be the very best of the bunch. Although pitched at middle readers, this charming little book creates a wonderful little world of 10 year olds and their shifting loyalties and friendships, and revels in the type of emotional growth that children go through before adolescence. And it rather sharply criticises adults who don't trust children enough to tell them the truth. A beautiful book.

The Rise and Fall of a 10th Grade Social Climber, by Lauren Machling and Laura Moser

When Mimi flees her Mother and her Mom's new lover in Houston for her easy-going Dad and a private school in NYC, she imagines her life is going to get more exciting. But she's not quite prepared for life in the fast lane with her rich and exotic new friends. And she learns the rules of the game in NYC are much more complicated than they are back in Texan 9th grade. Despite the odds, she takes off and rising to great social heights until the lies and deceptions that got her to the top come crashing down on her.

The story has its moments, but the book is entirely too long (at around 290 pages, it would have been better chopped down by a third) and overall covers fairly familiar territory. We have angst, we have friendships, we have finding out that the popular girls have faults too, we have the crush on the gay guy, we have the clueless parents, and we have the revealing moment of truth at the end. Let's go someplace interesting with this story, OK?

A Mango-Shaped Space, by Wendy Mass

For her entire life, Mia has seen colors when she reads and when she hears sounds. When she was little, she tried to explain his vision to others, but when she realized that she was alone and that admitting what she saw made her a "freak" in their eyes, she kept it to herself. By then things change and her condition comes out and she discovers that, while rare, that Synthesia is something that is not unique.

It's been a bit of a dry spell lately since I found a really good book. And it's a good thing to find. Mass's Leap Day was interesting and original, but this story is truly a much better read. The book appeals on all sorts of levels, not just as a story about Synthesia (which I knew nothing about before reading this book), but also as a coming-of-age story and a story about the bond between cats and their owners (an important part of the plot I sort of skipped above). This is truly an excellent book.

Here Today, by Ann M. Martin

It's 1963 and Ellie lives in the shadow of being an outcast Witch Tree Lane, and being the daughter of her flamboyant and restless mother Doris Day Dingman. When Doris decides to pursue her star in New York City and abandons her family to do so, Ellie has to take care of her siblings and find inner strength to be the adult her mother never quite managed to be.

Ann Martin is probably best known for her formula Babysitter Club books, and maybe somewhat less well-known for her A Corner of the Universe. This book turns out to be less of a YA book than an adult novel about being a child with a mother who is more of a child. It's an odd paradoxical book: fascinating and detailed, yet dull and plotless at the same time. I can honestly say that I've never been so bored by a book that was such a breeze to read. So, if you want a book that (at 308 pages) still took under 4 hours to read, I guess you could do worse.

Fat Chance, by Leslea Newman

When Judi's class gets an assignment to keep a diary for the semester, she is certain that she'll have nothing to write about. But as Judi's obsession with losing weight develops (alongside some up and down attempts at romance), her diary entries start to reveal a deadly problem.

At times, the narrative is a bit dull and there are some Judy-Blume-like moments of adult preachiness thrown in (if I were to improve the book, I'd try to let Judi tell her own story without all the extras tossed in). That said, there won't be a dry eye at the ending, so if you can manage your way that far, you will be rewarded. A bit rough and irregular then, but a great topic.

The Summer of the Swans, by Betsy Byars

Sara has trouble dealing with her older sister, her aunt, her absent father, and most of all, her retarded brother, whose needs always seem to outweigh her own. But then one night, her brother disappears and she must hunt for him.

It's a Newberry Award book, but it has aged badly. And beyond the references to a life long passed (operator assisted calls, anyone?), the whole psychology of 14 year olds has changed tremendously since this story was written. It's a pretty little book, but terribly trite and boring.

Sixteen, edited by Megan McCafferty

This collection of short stories about turning (or being) 16 covers a wide gamut, from historical to contemporary, both boys and girls (although with a big stress on homosexual over heterosexual). The stories all attempt to portray 16 as a moment of a crossroad, with lesser or greater success.

The best contributions come from Sarah Dessen (of course) and Julianna Baggott. Most of the stories are OK but not exceptional. Sonya Sones (who I tend to like) is a disappointment, as is McCafferty's own contribution. Disappointing overall and uneven.

Shrimp, by Rachel Cohn

In this sequel to the stunning Gingerbread, we get the next year of Cyd Charisse's (now CC's) life -- her senior year -- as she navigates life back in California and her evolving relationship with her on-again boyfriend and soul-mate Shrimp. The rest of the family is growing up as well and so a lot of learning-to-live-with-changes moments result. But true to form, CC informs us at the end, that this isn't one of those movie stories where the narrator will come on at the end and give use some sort of meaningless conclusion about her "year of learning" etc etc. Instead, we get a nice satisfying twist that is both unexpected, but believable.

Cyd remains a spectacularly well-drawn heroine and Cohn has a great ear for dialog. But the aching question was voiced by Kriss (who read this before I had a chance to): "Why do a sequel?" And in fact, Shrimp does not really give us anything more, just more of the same old. And the appeal of the character and her dialog wears a bit thin in the sequel. By around page 60, Cyd's various ways of describing her objects of lust grow a bit thin. What was clever has become dull. And what was original and fresh is becoming a formula.

Stealing Henry, by Carolyn MacCullough

When Savannah knocks her abusive drunk stepfather out with a frying pan and takes her younger half-brother with her to flee, she has time to think back on her past and on her relationship with her mother. And interspersed between a story of running away and these reflections on her past, Savannah's mother Alice tells a story about her own teenage years, leading up to Savannah's birth.

This is a fascinating multi-layered story about family and choices, and how those choices change lives forever. At first, the parallel storyline really doesn't gel very well, but as the story continues, things come closer and closer together until an incredible oh shit moment at the end of the book. Truly memorable. Some rough moments in the story keep this from being a must-have classic, but it is still a great read.

Spinners, by Donna Jo Napoli and Richard Tchen

This retelling of Rumpelstiltskin fills in the story, providing the background and motivations for the legend of spinning straw into gold. The novel portrays a complex multi-generational voyage of jealousy and desire and greed that provides us with sympathy for the villian and hatred for the heroine.

I would not rate this as higher as I did Daughter of Venice but probably better than Zel or her book on Mary Magdalene. And I suppose I should explain why I keep reading Napoli's books, since I don't seem to care for them very much. Napoli has some outstanding story ideas and when I read the synopses for her books, I get very excited, but the actual product in the end seems to disappoint more often than not. Possibly it is the terribly dark quality she puts into her books. they are all about suffering. Possibly it is because her characters are so greedy and mean. But there are also issues of style and her inability to end her books. The ending to this one is particularly odd and strange.

Looking for Alibrandi, by Melina Marchetta

Josie Alibrandi lives alone with her mother and attends a Catholic school in Adelaide. She's different from the other girls for a number of reasons: she's attending on a scholarship, she doesn't have a father, and she's Italian - a "wog." And in her last year of high school, as she prepares for law school, she juggles a boyfriend from the wrong side of the tracks (Jacob), the pristine John, and the return of her father.

This novel grabbed my attention because (as the jacket explains) "it won every major award for young adult literature in Australia and is on the Higher School Certificate [the Aussie SATs] reading list." So, apparently, they think it's a good book.

What a disappontment. It has been a long time since I was so bored by a novel. The story is hard to follow, poorly written (dialog sequences where you can't tell who is talking because they all sound alike), and dull. By the end, I was just beginning to care a little about the revealing of family secrets and thought the story might be becoming interesting, when she dumped in some very unnecessary melodrama that just made my skin crawl. This is an absolutely HIDDEOUSLY written book. And if it is the best that Australia can produce, they have a long way to go. A waste of time.

Dinah Forever, by Claudia Mills

Last of four. In this last installment of the Dinah Seabrooke series, Dinah discovers that everything ends, including life. She starts off 7th grade by learning that the universe will end in five billion years, and by the end of the story learns that life is much shorter than all that. In between, she frets about the meaning of life and love.

This book proves to be less interesting than the others. Dinah's worries are cute and poignant, but in the end a bit boring, and this book drags a bit with themes already covered fairly well in the other books. Of the four, I think I'd rate the second book the best of the bunch.

Dinah in Love, by Claudia Mills

Three of four. Dinah organizes the first dance -- a sock hop Sadie Hawkins dance. Girls have to ask the boys to the dance. The problem is that Dinah doesn't like boys. And certainly not teh obnoxious Nick Tribble! Add in a debate on capital punishment and a play where Dinah gets the leading role, and there is the usual set of amusing hijinx. With Dinah, you can pretty much guess that the story is going to give us a series of mischief.

OK, so the books are charming and pleasant. Dinah learns to be a little bit flexible about her convictions and thus grows a bit. These are pleasant books and this third one in the series continues the general improvement of the characters and story.

Dinah for President, by Claudia Mills

Two of Four. In this sequel, Dinah Seabrooke starts at the Middle School and immediately makes herself noticed by running for class president on an environmental platform, arguing that the school should have a recycling program [apparently, when the book was written, recycling was still a rare event]. At the same time, Dinah befriends an elderly lady and takes on the issue of aging in dignity. A surprise ending leads to a satisfying conclusion.

I actually liked the sequel better than the original book, so I'm hoping the character continues to improve. Having established the various characters and settings in the story, Mills doesn't have to spend as long on exposition. One could quibble over some of the preachiness of the recycling message in the book, but it is not so distracting, as much as dated now.