Polly, by Amy Bryant

Polly tells her romantic and sexual biography from early teen years through early college, detailing her eight most significant relationships (some good, some not) and her parallel interest in music and art. Her relationship with her mother and step-father play a minor role, but the focus is definitely on Polly's development as a person as she struggles through the minefields of teen romance.

Strikingly realistic, one suspects that this is autobiography. It certainly rings true for the era (which I can say with some authority as I am nearly the same age as Polly the character and I grew up in the same area). And the details of the relationships and what she goes through will also ring true.

I understand that writers should write about what they know, but I have to take Bryant to task for not attempting to pull her story out of its era. Even with the strong interest in 80s hardcore punk, a more enterprising writer could have pulled the story into a more contemporary context. To really measure if Bryant is a good writer, I'd like to see her tackle less familiar territory (and with her bio saying that she now is writing short stories about life in NYC -- where she happens to live now -- I don't get the sense that she can grow). As a result, I'll give this novel a mixed review (realistic, interesting, but ultimately a lazy autobiographic exercise).

How It's Done, by Christine Kole MacLean

Grace grew up in a state of awe and fear of her father, but at 18 she is not so willing to follow his commands anymore. When she falls in love with a young college professor, her father disapproves. But rather than obey his order to break off the relationship, she decides to marry the man instead. As much as she hopes this is a good decision to spite her father, she slowly begins to realize that getting married is just transferring one prison for another. If she is going to find out what makes her special, she needs to start thinking - and desiring - for herself.

In this fairly catchy story, Grace's search for self has a realistic tone. Still, while it may be a comfort to the reader to always be a few steps ahead of the heroine, it's hard not to notice how terribly naive she is. This is hardly a feel-good novel, but it is affirming and portrays both decency and flaws.

I haven't yet mentioned the religious thread at all (Grace's family is Fundamentalist Christian). It's far from subtle (there's a great deal of Scripture-quoting in the book), but it also makes sense and fits in the story quite seamlessly. The family's faith is drawn with very little sensationalism - its just another factor of who they are. Given how easy it would have been to demonize the family's religious beliefs, MacLean has definitely taken the high road.

A Swift Pure Cry, by Siobhan Dowd

In a quiet Irish village, Shell tries to keep her family together -- younger brother and sister and alcoholic father. It's been hard since her mother died, but they have managed. But then things go horribly wrong and rumor, ambition, and pride make them worse. To make things right again, Shell must confess truths to her family and the people she has grown up with -- a terrifying prospect that she cannot face.

Written more as an adult novel with its elliptical style, thi is a hard slog for an allegedly YA story. The characters grow on you as you read, but it is still a maddening read (I'm not a big fan of dramatic tension that is based upon human stupidity). I'd suggest giving this one a miss.

Ruby Parker Hits the Small Time, by Rowan Coleman

Ruby has been on the popular soap Kensington Heights since she was six. But now that she's 13 and "frumpy" and "awkward," she fears that they may jettison her from the show. But far worse, her parents have announced that they are getting divorced. But when it seems that things are really headed downward, suddenly they take a turn up.

This rather strange and unpredictable novel promises us from the start that things will go bad, making us expect a tragedy. Instead, it never does so you end up wondering what all of the fuss was about. What we do get is a lot of uptight people breaking through their insecurities and talking to each other (the nasty girl turns out to simply be misunderstood and once that is established everyone becomes close friends!). But in the end, there is no dramatic payoff to match the hype. Manipulative and ultimately dull.

Parrotfish, by Ellen Wittlinger

Angela has always been struck by the obsession that the world has about dividing everyone into boys and girls. And even more trouble understanding why it bothers her and why she has always wanted to join the boys. When she figures out that she is really a boy and changes names to Grady, a brave voyage begins. While Grady realizes that he will face resistance and misunderstanding, his new friends and enemies show up in surprising places. But in the end, it is really all about discovering yourself.

It is no coincidence that the jacket bears an endorsement from Julie Anne Peters, whose Luna covered the TG world (much better!) from the other direction. This book is a bit preachy, relying on author intervention rather than a strong narrative to tell its story. That makes it a bit more ungainly than Wittlinger's other books. I also found the ending overly convenient and corny, but I'll admit that a book with such a heavy topic probably needs some lightening up. I'll give this a qualified recommendation -- good topic, good characters, but it needed a tighter story.

Twelve, by Lauren Myracle

In this sequel to Eleven, Winnie has turned twelve and twelve turns out to be an eventful year, ranging from getting her first bra and period to overnight camp and bee stings. A good boy and some fall-out with her best friend add more adventure.

I wrote that Eleven was good but boring because not too much of interest happens at that age. Holding aside the predictable menarche-inspired anecdotes (which, as important and dramatic as they are can be something of a predictable plot development in a book like this), the book simply is not very engaging. Part of the problem is that it is written as thirteen disconnected vignettes, as if Winnie was writing in a diary and only managed to do one entry a month. The anecdotes are well-written, but I never felt that interested in the character.

And as for the gratuitous name-dropping of Judy Blume in the November chapter, let's say that it was about as blatant as most of Blume's writing. Subtle it isn't. So, in case there is a young reader out there not familiar with Judy Blume, I'm sure that this will inpire them to pick up her ouevre. Or maybe not....sigh, I need to go back to teen books...

Alpha Dog, by Jennifer Ziegler

Spending the summer taking college classes in Austin couldn't have come at a better time for Katie as her boyfriend has just dumped her. But spending the sumer away from the kids at school and her overbearing mother isn't quite working out the way she planned. Her roommate is throwing wild parties. As a whim, Katie has adopted a dog who has turned into a holy terror. All of this has made Katie realize that the only way that she can ever truly be happy is if she learns to become the alpha dog.

Satisfying, but utterly predictable. The story has decent pacing and some good humor. Ultimately, it is an entertaining read, but no great literature. For a summer read, that is probably sufficient.

Rock My World, by Liza Conrad

In the summer before her senior year, Livi and her best friend Cam get dragged around with Livi's Dad. But it's not what you think: Dad is the lead singer of the legendary Baby Dolls and the summer is a whirl-wind trip of the world through a series of money-making nostagic gigs. As Livi interviews the band members for a journalism internship she has snagged, she also struggles with her growing attraction for the lead singer of the supporting act.

The book didn't do much for me on so many levels: crass materialism, flat characters, a rushed plot, cheap sentimental and contrived ending....I could go on. It also suffers from a major pet peeve of mine: Livi's taste in music is conveniently 10 years out of date, allowing the author to insert her music sensibilities into the story. Would it really kill a YA writer to do some research on what teens listen to now? OK, I'll withdraw my fangs but you should really give this one a miss....

Better Than Yesterday, by Robyn Schneider

Charley and Skylar have been in academic competition during their years at Hilliard Prep, but the quest for academic excellence has not made them happy. Charley is trying to convince his ambitious parents to let him pursue his dream of music, rather than theirs (medicine). Skylar is living down a reputation acquired in freshman year. Both of them (against their preconceptions) are fighting their attraction for each other. In the background are Marissa and the troubled Blake.

The book is engaging but suffers from what I call the first-novel syndrome. Schneider has a lot of good ideas and want to cram them all into the same book. That leaves a lot of plot undeveloped and also subjects the reader to a bunch of random thoughts and musings. These ideas are frequently clever but they strain the narrative. Finally, skip the last chapter. While the book is enjoyable, Schneider feels an unnecessary obligation to tie everything up at the end with a rushed afterward. You'll be happier if you skip it and use your imagination instead.

True to Form, by Elizabeth Berg

In the summer of 1961, Katie is thirteen and in the throes of a series of changes. By good fortune, she wins a radio contest that allows her to visit an old friend in Texas and she makes some wonderful new friends back home. But a series of tragedies (some of which she causes, while others are out of her control) leave her struggling to re-evaluate herself and her priorities.

Historical fictional memoirs don't tend to appeal to me and non-YA books about teens tend to score low as well, but I'll give this a qualified endorsement for rising a bit above the genre. The story rambles a bit and never develops a plot, but it is warm and well-meaning. Also, ditch the insipid discussion guide at the back of the book (you can save those for your unimaginative teachers!). Instead, enjoy this timeless (despite its repeated mention of contemporary miscellanea) story about priorities, friendship, and setting yourself right.

The Two Princesses of Bamarre, by Gail Carson Levine

Of the two princesses, Adele is the shy one and it is Meryl who is brave. But when the Gray Death strikes Meryl, it is Addie who must rise to the challenge of finding a cure for the dreaded disease. In the space of a few weeks, Adele will have to battle ogres, specters, gryphons, and dragons to rescue her sister. But first, she must overcome her fear of spiders!

A fairly typical offering for Levin in a world not that much unlike Ella Enchanted or Fairest, but without much of the magic of those books. IT's an entertaining read, but never quite captures the imagination. Addie is more reliant on others for help and grows less than Ella did. So, while those other books explored the development of magic within, this one never quite goes there. More of an action adventure than human development story.

The Diary of a Teenage Girl, by Phoebe Gloeckner

In this highly original story of growing up in San Francisco in the 1970s, Phoebe tells the (presumably autobiographical) story of Minnie, the daughter of an alcoholic and abusive mother who sleeps with one of her Mom's boyfriends, takes lots of drugs, and fails her way through her junior year of high school. It's a disturbing and dark story with some very believable moments and motivations (especially Minnie's misguided search for affection through having sex with older guys). As such, the work is groundbreaking for its honesty.

It is also so gross and removed from most adolescents' experiences that it is a hard sell. Sure, we've all experimented, but the sheer depth to which Minnie falls to will turn off many readers. And the explicitness of the story (and its drawings) certainly turned me off. Still, if cult comix are your thing and you like some pervo graphic novel stuff, there may be something here for you. A strange combination of exploitation and empowerment by an author who couldn't quite decide which she was more interested in. Complex like life.

Converting Kate, by Beckie Weinheimer

Kate's mother is a devout follower of the Church of the Holy Divine and Kate herself always tried to do what her mother told her to do, that is, until her father died and Mom refused to have a funeral for him because he had not embraced the Church. This event an a move from Arizona to Maine prompts Kate with an opportunity to break free of her Mother's grasp and strike out on her own. And with the help of a kindly Aunt, a friendly pastor, a lobster fisherman's grandson, and some friends that she doesn't even know she has, she begins her own emotional and spiritual journey.

This book is as much about growing up and breaking free as it is about the decisions we make about faith and beliefs -- and thus touches deeply on many of the issues of coming of age. And while the endless bickering with Mom gets a bit wearing, especially since Kate seems to have already made her break with the Church from the start, there is much more to this story than simply breaking free. In this way, Weinheimer has created a story which goes the extra mile -- showing us Kate's journey to a place as well as where she is coming from. A tear-jerking and deeply moving story. Highly recommended.

Zig Zag, by Ellen Wittlinger

When Robin's boyfriend announces that he is going away for the summer - to Italy - she doesn't know what she will do with herself. But then her aunt proposes that she join them (aunt and two cousinlets) on a road trip across the country. And while things do not start off well (and do not get much better!) everyone learns a thing or three during their adventure.

This is actually one of Wittlinger's better books. It starts off slow but grows on you by the end. You will like the characters (even when they are messing up pretty bad) and Wittlinger understands psychological motivation pretty well so she does pretty realistic angst. I'd ding this novel for some unrealistic dialog, but overall it is pretty good.

What Mr. Mattero Did, by Priscilla Cummings

Mr. Mattero the music teacher is generous and kind to his students and the community. The worst that can be said is that he is a bit forgetful and absent-minded. So when three girls accuse him of sexual abuse, it comes as a shock to everyone, especially to his daughter Melody. As accusations and rumors spread, Melody must face revelations about her father and the conclusion that no matter how it turns out, things will never be the same.

Treading on the same ground as Harmless (right down to the shifting narrative), this is a paler and more shallow work. It is entertaining, but there are few original observations here and (compared with Cummings's other works like A Face First) this is a disappointment.

The Breakup Bible, by Melissa Kantor

When Max dumbs Jen, she finally understands why those 19th century heroines are always dying from heartbreak. She wishes that she too could die. But when her grandmother gets her a copy of Dr. Emory Emerson's Breakup Bible, Jen still thinks its the silliest thing in the universe. None of this realization saves her from the moping that nearly causes her to miss the opportunity to dig up real dirt on the school district while researching an article on race relations for her school newspaper. No, all she can think about is Max!

A fairly lightweight, but entertaining girl-loses-boy story. The first half drags on as it pulls out the usual romantic angst stuff, but the novel picks up speed in the second half and reaches a satisfactory conclusion.

Stargirl, by Jerry Spinelli

In the town of Mica AZ, kids are pretty normal and Leo is a normal kid. But Stargirl is different. She dresses strange, plays a ukelele in the cafeteria at lunch, cheers for the opposing team at basketball games. In short, she simply doesn't fit in. But somehow in being so very different from everyone else, she brings special magic to Mica and to Leo's life as well. And now he must choose whether he would rather be with her or be a part of the crowd.

This is a hard book to describe or to convey just how deeply moving and inspiring it is. It is more of a fable than a novel, addressing peer pressure, love, and the meaning of popularity. Stargirl is not specific to any particular era and may well remain a relevant book for years to come. Thus, I'll risk calling it a timeless classic.

Bloom, by Elizabeth Scott

Lauren and Dave are the perfect couple and everyday that Lauren walks down the hall at high school, she can tell that all the freshman girls would kill to be in her place. But from the inside, all is not so wonderful. Dave is boring and Lauren longs for something more, for someone she can share her feelings with, for someone she can truly love. And in Lauren's life, there isn't much room for real emotions or for sharing what you truly feel (her friends are distant, her father is distracted, and her mother abandoned her when she was little. And then she meets Evan...

OK, so you can probably guess where the story is going to go and it will win no prizes for originality. Worse still, the plot is full of old tired YA tripes (absent mother, distant clueless Dad, friends who just don't get you, etc.). But there is something to be said for decent writing and a sympathetic complex character. And while you know that reading a book like this is not good for you, it's still a pleasant Saturday summer read.

Listening for Lions, by Gloria Whelan

Rachel was born in Africa near the turn of the century to a missionary family running a hospital in the bush. When both of her parents succumb to the flu, she is taken in by the shady Pritchard family who scheme to have her impersonate their late daughter to get their family back in the good graces of the rich elder Pritchard. Rachel (now Valerie Pritchard) must embark of a trip to England to visit her "grandfather" for the Pritchards and leave behind her beloved Africa.

Combining some of the classic cliches of the orphan genre with some warm dialog and cultural detail, this is a charming book. The book is broken into three parts and, of these, the first two are the most interesting. The third suffers from a drastic telescoping of the narrative as Whelan rushes to the end of her story. One imagines that the third part probably needed another 100 pages or so to tell adequately and one wonders why she chopped it down so brutally, undercutting a fascinating character. A beautiful start but a flawed ended.

Lost in the Labyrinth, by Patrice Kindl

In this retelling (and combination) of several Greek myths, we get the story of the ancient Manoans, the Minotaur and the "hero" Theseus, Daedalus and Icarus, and an obscure princess Xenodice -- who unites all the threads together through her love for her half-brother (the Minotaur) and the young clever Icarus.

The myths are well-enough known, so no real surprises on the story, but much like the way that the novel Orphelia expands on a well-known story, Kindl riffs on Greek mythology in new ways, breathing life into the story and creating an engaging story about the brave princess Xenodice. It's a fun read, albeit neither suspenseful nor nourishing to the mind -- a good summer read (especially if you like Greek myths).