Real Live Boyfriends, by E. Lockhart

Now entering her senior year, Ruby has gotten some semblance of control over her panic attacks, but her life is still crazy. Mom has switched from a raw diet to all-barbecue (challenging Ruby's vegetarianism). Dad is mourning his dead mother and gone distant. Ruby is making up with some friends (Nora) and breaking for good with others. But most importantly, Ruby is obsessing about whether Noel is her Real Live Boyfriend or not (when Noel comes back from New York, it sure doesn't seem that way!). All of which makes it that much easier for Ruby to end up with Gideon, when he starts showing his interest. But Ruby discovers that that just makes things more complicated!

E. Lockhart continues to amaze me with her breezy and hilarious writing and her deep sympathy for the struggles of adolescence.
I love the Ruby Oliver series. Ruby is funny and endearing, yet feels very realistic (I have to defer to any teens out there to validate that I'm correct about this -- all I know is that I want her combination of spunk and doubt to be realistic!). This particular installment is deeper and a bit darker than its predecessors, but Ruby is growing up and her issues are growing up with her. There's still plenty of laughs (Ruby's parents remain the primary source of amusement for all their neuroses), but there is depth and emotional payoff as well. A gem!

The Things A Brother Knows, by Dana Reinhardt

When Levi's brother Boaz comes home from the War, everyone is terribly excited. He's an honest American hero. A Marine. (Admittedly, his family is most happy that he's alive) But something about him is not right. He stays in his room. He studies maps. When he finally emerges, he claims that he is going to hike the Appalachian Trail to unwind and relax. But Levi figures out the truth: Boaz is heading out on a hike alright, but it's in an entirely different direction. So, Levi tracks him and forces Boaz to let him tag along on his quest. What results is a road story on foot, where Levi gets a chance to learn what his brother has been through in the past years.

War novels don't usually hold much appeal for me -- they either wallow in patriotism or have some other sort of political axe to grind. This novel, however, transcends the genre. Yes, I was occasionally reminded of Born on the Fourth of July or The Deer Hunter, but this is really a story about two brothers - both on the cusp of manhood - learning to relate to each other as adults. As a younger brother myself, I found the story very easy to relate to (even if neither I nor my bro have any real military experience). The ending is bit too feel-good for my tastes, but there is such strong material that I almost needed that lightening of the mood at the end to make it through.

Reinhardt has turned out to be a versatile storyteller. From Harmless (with its shocking, but ultimately After School Special-preachiness) to the chicklit of A Brief Chapter in My Impossible Life to this current definitely masculine self-realization, she has a keen ear and eye to the universal search for self. Her topics are potentially provocative, but handled in a unique and fascinating manner.

This Gorgeous Game, by Donna Freitas

When Olivia discovers that she has won the first prize in Father Mark Brendan's literary challenge, she is ecstatic. There is the recognition and the cash prize, but most of all, there is the chance to study directly under Father Mark, a contemporary literary legend. At first, Father Mark's undivided attention is flattering, but soon Olivia begins to find it suffocating as the man doesn't seem to ever leave her alone. And while it makes no sense to her, she can't escape the feeling that his attention seems less-than-innocent.

A genuinely creepy story about inappropriate sexual attentions. Freitas faces a difficult challenge: presenting Olivia's inability to cope with Father Mark as believable yet not also portray her at the same time as pitiful or weak. To pull this off, first we have to believe that Olivia is a true believer in her faith. Freitas does a good job of showing how Olivia can be worldly yet faithful and obedient. The next step is that we need to believe that someone in her shoes could ever see Father Mark as not being a smarmy perv. This doesn't work out as well, as we don't get to see much of him before he starts getting all creepy. The result is a story that is only partly pulled off.

I'm a big fan of books that can tell a story about religion with a straight face and respect. Given the subject matter here, it would have been very easy to just blackball the entire Catholic Church. It also would have been a cheap shot. And so, I really appreciated the way that Frietas validated Olivia's faith (and the faith of her family and friends) in the face of such a horrible case of abuse of power. That takes sensitivity and is worthy of praise.

The Fool's Girl, by Celia Rees

Young Violetta, accompanied by her former court jester Feste, is on the run from traitors who gave her kingdom of Illyria over to the Venetians. She's out for revenge, or at the least to right the wrongs which have been committed. After many struggles (told mostly in flashback), she has made it to London, where she encounters rising theatrical sensation William Shakespeare. But this is a rather different Will Shakespeare than most of us might think of -- he's resourceful and buried in political intrigue. In this story, which combines Italian political intrigue, Elizabethan mores, and Reformist politics, the play is hardly the thing!

This richly detailed riff on Shakespeare's Twelfth Night deserves major props for creativity, research, strong vivid characters, and fashioning a fantastic mix of adventure and magic. I am a bit reluctant to read stories that re-imagine famous historical figures, but this novel is an obvious labor of love (and far removed from any cheap exploitation). If there is a real criticism to lobby, it is for a muddled love story and way too many characters. But you can enjoy this book on so many levels: as historical fiction, loving homage to Elizabethan theater, or just plain rollicking fun adventure.

Scumble, by Ingrid Law

As anyone who has read Savvy knows, when you turn thirteen, you get to find out what your special power is going to be. Some people get good ones (like being able to turn invisible) while others get doozies. When Ledge has his birthday, he's really hoping that he'll gain the superhuman speed that will allow him to outrace everyone in a marathon, but that's not how everything turns out. Instead, his particular savvy appears to be the ability to make things fall apart!

Now, he must find a way to control his power (and learn to "scumble" it) or else risk having to spend his life living in isolation because his powers are too destructive and dangerous. And with dark days fallen on his family's ranch and the local community, Ledge really has chosen a fine time to be causing trouble!

"Savvies" are of course a wonderful metaphor for puberty and coming of age. Just as in the first book, Law does a fantastic job of exploring the anxieties of pre-adolescents as they look forward to the changes in their lives to come. It's not an entirely original plot device of course, but I think Law does it with great gentleness and insight which is certain to make this story a crowd-pleaser.

I was less thrilled by the story itself this time around. Much of it didn't make much sense. It is entirely possible that it doesn't need to make sense since this is fantasy, but I found the logical gaps in the story distracting (Why doesn't ledge want his family to know that Sarah Jane has smuggled herself into the wedding? Why doesn't he enlist his Mom's help is getting Sarah Jane to stop creating trouble? And so on). It seemed to me like it would have been easier to spin the story from simpler stuff and more plausible motivations.

Touch Blue, by Cynthia Lord

When Tess's best friend moves away, it leaves a gap in her life and threatens the ability of her small Maine island to keep its school. Short the requisite number of children to keep their island school open, the folks decide to foster a group of children to raise their numbers. The result is the arrival of Aaron, a slightly older boy who has been kicked around a bit and has the cynicism to show for it. Tess and her family really want to provide Aaron with the home he hasn't had, but they are in way over their depth. Still, Tess's optimism and superstitions seem to serve them well.

A fairly brisk and pleasant read. Unlike Rules, there is less of an agenda in this novel and more storytelling. Tess is very engaging and strong. She doesn't always make the best decisions, but she is appealing. Some of the storylines falter a bit (Tess's loneliness, conflicts with the local bully), but the overall message that home is what you make of it is pleasing and all of the local color makes for decent entertainment.

Girl Parts, by John M. Cusick

David Sun's parents are worried that he seems disassociated and anti-social, so they decide to get him a companion -- a girl robot named Rose who is programmed to be friendly and accommodating, and to teach him how to relate to others. David is actually something of a jerk and he's mostly interested in figuring out a way to break through Rose's "intimacy clock" (which predetermines how far he can get with her). What no one counts on is that Rose is a very special robot and, as she gains awareness of herself, she begins to see through the game she's been set up for.

Enter Charlie, a boy from the other side of the lake...and the tracks. He's everything that David isn't and offers Rose a chance at gaining agency and a sense of control. But there are forces that want to maintain things the way they are, and this story has tragedy written all over it.

Sort of a Short Circuit meets Better Off Dead (to use two 80s movies examples), Cusick (no relation to the actor) has taken science fiction and mixed it with guy stuff, mostly with an eye for what female readers will be interested in. The guys are sensitive and clueless, the girls desperate and frustrated, and the metaphors transparent. Cusick has a lot of fun things to say about interpersonal relationships, but he goes at it with a sledgehammer. Rose's struggles to get over the boy she was first programmed for, her longing to be like other (real) girls conflicted with her need to be herself, and her desire for agency will all ring true for readers, but it all seems terribly calculated. And that feeling of being set up left me feeling manipulated. Kudos for the creativity, but the polemics needed to be a bit less obvious.

Extraordinary, by Nancy Werlin

When Phoebe Rothschild befriends an odd girl named Mallory at school, she has no idea of what she is getting herself into. While Mallory appears quite vulnerable, she is in fact a changeling, a faerie who has come to trick Phoebe into undoing a curse set in motion generations ago. The danger heightens as Mallory is joined by her brother Ryland, with whom Phoebe becomes enamored.

Werlin is a very diverse talent. The novel, most similar to her previous Impossible, will seem light years removed from thriller Double Helix or the critically-acclaimed child-endangerment Rules of Survival. Her writing is superb, but she can be terribly verbose and I find her actual storytelling to be hit or miss. Impossible was a compelling novel that fleshed out one of the great verses of English literature. This current novel is based on much less compelling material. The resulting story is poorly paced and overwhelming, lacking characters with which I could connect. There are no major technical problems with this story, but I just wasn't grabbed by the book.

Radiance, by Alyson Noel

Riley is stuck in the Afterlife in a place known as Here and in a moment called Now. Only twelve years old, she feels that she's been robbed of her life, but she's in for a surprise: no one really cares and, here in the Afterlife, she's expected to work. To atone for the mistakes of her life, she is assigned the job of soul catcher -- a person who convinces reluctant souls to finish their journey. Her first job is to entice the "Radiant Boy" to cross over -- a challenge which has defeated many of her predecessors. To help her with this task, she is assigned a guide named Bodhi (who she immediately dislikes due to her nerdy appearance).

This short book, the first in a new series, left me unmoved and unengaged. The major problem is that the characters didn't feel right to me. Riley talks and acts much too mature for a tween and Bodhi never really moved much beyond being pompous and distant. The lack of realism in the characters is not helped by the story itself. The challenges that the characters face are very hyped, but resolved surprisingly quickly (as if Noel had no interest in really telling the story). Between the lack of suspense and the lack of chemistry in the characters, there isn't much to invest in here, and certainly not enough to make one want to pick up the next installment.

Real Mermaids Don't Wear Toe Rings, by Helene Boudreau

A year ago, Jade's mother drowned, leaving her all alone with Dad. All of which makes it ever so much more awkward when she gets her first period at the mall after she's run out of money. But having to endure buying feminine hygiene products with her Dad is only the beginning of her surprises. Soaking in the tub shortly after her initial ordeal, her legs turn into fins!

It turns out that her mother was actually a mermaid and Jade has inherited some of the same genes. It also appears that Mom did not drown a year ago, but was actually kidnapped by a group of mer-convicts. Jade and her Dad have to figure out a way to save her without letting anyone know the true situation with Jade and her Mom. This proves challenging as Jade has to keep coming up with excuses to avoid her best friend Cori and also stop her endless (and embarassing) run-ins with cute boy Luke.

It's pretty hard to do much that's new with the mermaid genre and this book doesn't even try, recycling several ideas from other books. Similarly, it breaks no new ground in the younger teen romance department. But it is nonetheless an enjoyable read. The adventure can get a bit intense and doesn't mesh so well with the romance side of the story, but the book has a decent pace and a satisfying conclusion that ties most everything up (while leaving room for a sequel). People who like other mermaid stories (e.g., The Tail of Emily Windsnap, etc.) will enjoy this book.

Finally, by Wendy Mass

From the first time that her parents told her that she had to wait until she was twelve, Rory has been working on a list of great and small things that she'll be able to do when she turns twelve. So, when that birthday finally rolls around, she can't wait to get started.

Things don't go quite as well as planned. For one thing, Rory seems to be awfully accident-prone. She gets her first cell phone, only to lose it within fifteen minutes. She tries coffee for the first time, without realizing how strong it is and spends the next couple of hours on a hyperactive caffeine buzz (she appears to be a bit ADD as is). Just about every thing with which she comes into contact (make-up, earrings, etc.) sets off an allergic reaction. Despite these mishaps, she has a kind heart and a great deal of intuition that have her helping out people right and left, so she's a very winning heroine who will endear herself to readers.

Wendy Mass has written a number of lovely, funny, and often touching books, which mix magic with middle grade sensibilities. This one, however, seemed much less fun, more preachy, and less cohesive than her other books. Young readers might enjoy Rory's mishaps, but I found their sheer randomness distracting. The point of the story seemed to be that you should be careful what you wish for, since almost every one of her wishes backfired, but there wasn't much of an alternative presented. The ending, which sought to tie it all together through a mixture of the supernatural and a string of amazing coincidences worthy of a Bollywood movie, came off as a cheap wrap-up. In comparison to the book I finished before this (You Wish), this one seemed like a very pale imitation of what you can do with a little magic and a lot of message.

You Wish, by Mandy Hubbard

For her 16th birthday, Kayla's mother insists on throwing a huge sweet sixteen bash, complete with a DJ and a huge pink cake. Kayla, however, isn't that kind of girl. She's embarrassed by the whole event and would rather hide within herself. When forced to make a wish in front of party guests whom she doesn't even know, she vows that she'd like to finally have her prior birthday wishes come true, since they never seem to do so.

The next morning, a life-sized bright pink My Little Pony shows up at her home, followed in the days that follow by endless gumballs, (Raggedy) Ann brought to life, and even a very plastic self-absorbed hunk named Ken in a convertible. Yes, her birthday wishes from all of the years past appear to actually be coming true! It's a bit awkward, but the worst is yet to come. Last year, Kayla wished that Ben would kiss her, but Ben is her BFF's boyfriend now!

From that synopsis, you get an impression that this is a fairly silly vapid book, and when I started to read it, I honestly didn't hold out a lot of hope for it. I figured it would be cute fluff. While you could read it that way, I found that as I did so that the story was actually much more nuanced. Somewhere amidst all of these childhood wishes coming true, Hubbard has some amazing things to say about growing up. These wishes, she argues, are not simply isolated and forgotten parts of our past to be ashamed of, but a piece of what we are today. They say a lot about who we become and as Kayla comes to appreciate and embrace her past, she is able to be at peace with her present. And so, while being reminded that we once wished for a real live pink pony of our own might seem embarrassingly infantile, it can't really be separated from the more serious grown up (or teen, for that matter) that we become.

It was this observation (and many other similar ones made alongside it) that showed me that this extremely funny book had a serious core to it. While tongue is firmly in cheek, Hubbard uses a wonderful choice of shared cultural icons (from Ken dolls to the joy of snow) that most any reader can relate to and through them understand her much deeper message. One of the more surprising books I've read this year and a wonderful way to wrap up the year.

The Daughters, by Joanna Philbin

In my mind, Meg Cabot always does it best, but don't fault a new author (particular the daughter of Regis Philbin) from trying to cash in on a hot formula: imagining the rich and fabulous as being girls just like you, with all the aches and boy troubles of the average teen, but without any of those pesky economic limitations that mere mortals such as you and I have to face. Yes, they too could be your best friend, and maybe even loan you their clothes (!) while you trade confidences.

Lizzie is the daughter of a supermodel; Carina the daughter of a multi-billionaire philanthropist; and Hudson the daughter of a pop diva. They bond together as co-sufferers of ambitious parents who never listen to them. This first book in a series focuses on Lizzie (future installments will highlight different girls) and her discovery that while she is very different from her mother, she has an inner beauty that makes her a natural for modeling nonetheless. A pesky on-again/off-again maybe-romance with childhood sweetheart Todd distracts us, but the main focus of this story is about how one can follow in the footsteps of one's mother while simultaneously applying your own twist.

Admittedly, it is all a bit catchy and seductive to read, but this is outright escapism with a high fluff factor and shamelessly marketed to the Teen Vogue set (who will eat it up).

No and Me, by Delphine de Vigan

Lou is a painfully shy, but intellectually precocious girl. Having skipped two grades, she's considerably younger than her classmates, but bright and articulate when she wants to be. She longs after the popular Lucas, but as she can't even bring herself to talk to the girls in her class, the idea of approaching him is unfathomable. Back home, things are bad. Her mother is completely withdrawn and her father is in denial over the death of Lou's younger sister. Lou may be very smart, but she struggles to get by.

But then, Lou meets No, a girl on the streets with even greater problems than Lou could ever imagine. Initially, Lou takes an interest in No for a school paper on homeless women, but after the project is completed, Lou can't break free of her attachment to No. Instead, her life gets more intertwined with No's. Strangely, this is initially a very good thing as it brings Lou closer to Lucas and helps Lou's family to repair itself. But, it is also inevitable that things will end up badly and Lou will learn some powerful lessons about the forces that drive a person out on to the streets.

It all starts off a bit slowly, but the story picks up some strength as both Lou and No develop into complex and interesting heroines. No easy answers here about homelessness, but plenty of thought-provoking ideas to explore. The story is a bit gritty and parents might cringe at the amount of child endangerment going on here, but it plays out quite realistically and I found it entirely believable. I'm less fond of Vigan's writing story (all very passive, with little important dialogue to speak of), but the story itself was fantastic.

How It Ends, by Laura Wiess

A book this complicated is tricky to summarize, but in an odd way, the book's cover (with its simple image of a dead leaf) somehow manages to symbolize this story's tale of death (with a promise of rebirth) quite well. There are at least three stories here.

First, there is the story of an elderly childless couple (Helen and Lon) and Helen's close relationship with Hanna - the daughter of the next door neighbors. There is the poignant sense of loss as Helen watches Hanna grow up and away from their friendship and wander off more often with her friends rather than spend time with "Gran." It's a beautiful tale and would have stood up on its own as a short story (sort of a geriatric Toy Story 3).

Then there is the story of Hanna's infatuation with Seth, a guy at school. It's the sort of bad news lust that is so strong that it causes her to ignore all the warning signs that Seth is not good for her. Meanwhile, in the background, there are plenty of friends (and even a good guy) lurking in the background waiting for her to come to her senses. Even Gran might have a word or two of advice. It's a bit of a tired story, but would have made a cute one if the elder woman had been there playing Dear Abby.

Those two stories would have made a nice, but fairly inconsequential YA novel -- pleasant, but largely forgettable. Wiess however has far greater intentions when she introduces a third story: a far nastier tragedy about an orphan girl and her immigrant Dutch lover. And this storyline, while it weaves very far off from the other two, probably has far more important things to say. For High Schoolers, there's plenty of eye-opening gender history here: about the abuse of gynecology and female patients, about animal and human cruelty, and about the bad old days when sexism was more overt. With a strong debt to Susan Griffin and Andrea Dworkin (although neither is directly credited, so maybe it is unintentional), Wiess brings up a litany of prior abuses that will shock the uninitiated. And if it causes a few teens to crack open some women's studies classics, so much the better.

This last thread is naturally the most potent part of the whole, but it seemed very poorly stitched to the rest. Yes, there's some attempt to explain that Helen feels guilty about her past and there's a bit more of an attempt to use this lesson in feminist history to inspire some gender consciousness raising in Hanna (don't let that bad guy treat you in the same shitty way that men have treated women for centuries!), but it doesn't really work for me. Seth is just a pimply adolescent asshole, not a misogynistic gynecologist or a sadistic Nazi. So, the story threads hang very loosely together and maybe not at all. This is frustrating as there are really two or three decent books here. The problem comes when Wiess tries to bring them altogether as one.

The Blind Faith Hotel, by Pamela Todd

When Zoe's mother and father separate, her Mom decides to pull up stakes and leave WA and relocate Zoe, her sister Nelia, and little brother Oliver to Minnesota. It isn't all about trying to get away from Dad. Mom has plans to try to resurrect her parents' house and turn it into a B & B.

Zoe resents having to leave Dad and also Mom's apparent lack of interest in her and her problems. Issues with fitting in in her new environment eventually end up with Zoe getting caught shoplifting. As restitution, Zoe has to work on a prairie restoration project, where she is able to develop a sense of self and gain some perspective.

Todd makes some nice insights about growing up, but the novel is something of a narrative mess. A wide variety of themes are picked up and dropped. Whether it's the B & B project, a boy interest, the passing fascination with a breeding pair of hawks, or even the Dad, I had a hard time figuring out what the point of any of this was. I have no problem with leaving a few loose ends with a story, but when hardly any part of the story reaches a conclusion, one really wonders what the purpose was of the writing. I probably missed the point of the whole exercise, but I don't feel compelled to give it another try.

The Saver, by Edeet Ravel

When 17 year-old Fern is left an orphan after her mother dies, Fern makes the decision to lie about her age and just take care of herself. Through amazing hard work, she manages to get by. But Fern has another thing going for her, she's a saver (amazingly frugal and resourceful). So, she manages to find jobs that take care of her needs (by providing free housing and food) and cheap alternatives for everything she can't pick up for free. All along, she maintains her sanity by writing letters to an imaginary alien friend.

I'm not a big fan of child abandonment stories, but this one turns out pretty well, mostly because Fern is so self-reliant. Still, by the end of the story, I wasn't really sure what the point was. You get the feeling that everything will turn out OK in the end, but what was really the point of the journey? There's some character growth, but no climax and no major epiphanies. She struggles, some things work out, and there's more to come. Her relationship with her imaginary friend is never explored and other important threads are left unresolved.

Dark Song, by Gail Giles

When Ames's father loses his job and the family loses their home, they pull up stakes and relocate from Colorado to Texas. It's a hard transition from living a well-off and privileged life to falling into poverty. Things are not helped by the tensions between her parents. Lost, angry, and confused, Ames finds solace in her new home from a boy named Marc who comes to help her Dad fix up their new house. Marc, however, is not a safe choice for a friend. He has a violent streak and an unhealthy obsession with firearms. Ames, though, needs his companionship and forces herself to overlook the danger signs. It is bound to end badly.

Taut and gripping, this story moves along at a furious pace, that is scary but still quite believable. Readers will like to imagine that they would never be so foolish as to fall into this trap, but Ames is no dummy. She realizes her dilemma quite early on yet still gets ensnared. That will disturb (and maybe even anger) some viewers, but I found it compelling. This is a familial train wreck in high gear here and you'll want to see how it turns out. Overall, a very creepy book, but one that is hard to put down.

Plastic, by Sarah N. Harvey

Jack has a fairly major obsession with breasts, but when he learns that his friend Leah is planning to get a boob job for her sixteenth birthday, he is shocked. When trying to talk her out of it doesn't work, he starts an anti-teen plastic surgery website and then his own protest movement. Not only does this not change Leah's mind, but it totally turns her against him. Jack persists, though, and his movement continues to grow until it starts to turn nasty.

More of a novella than a full-blown book, this thin large-type book covers a pretty unusual topic. For being such a short book, it does a remarkably decent job, but so many parts of it get short-changed. Jack is engaging but the other characters are mostly underdeveloped. Fairly or not, the brief nature of the story makes it look like a rush job. There is definitely potential to do more with this.

Star in the Forest, by Laura Resau

When Zitlally's father gets deported back to Mexico, she finds comfort in taking care of an abandoned dog in a junkyard. And while her friends don't understand why Zitlally has become so withdrawn and morose, she makes a new friend with Crystal, the unpopular girl next door. The two girls take care of the stray and name him Star, teaching him tricks in hopes of impressing Zitlally's father if he ever makes it back.

Written more for middle readers than Resau's previous books, this one takes on similar themes (indigenous Central American cultures, immigration, maintaining identity in North America) that Resau has explored in those other books. It's a gentle story and probably sufficiently enjoyable for its targeted age group. But I thought it really didn't break any new ground. Resau's a lovely writer with some wonderful observations about indigenous American culture, but she needs to move on to new stuff.