The Properties of Water, by Hannah Roberts McKinnon

When a tragic accident takes Lacey's older sister and mother away, Lace and her Dad must try to cope with maintaining the house and healing from their losses. Simply maintaining the house is struggle enough. Enter Willa Dodge, housekeeper extraordinaire, who whips things back into shape. While Lace initially distrusts Willa, she learns that she can be a powerful ally. A tiff with her best friend and a romance with an older boy also play a role in helping Lacey come to terms with what has happened to her family.

A short and nicely written novel that unfolds in a highly surprising fashion. It's hard to tell the whole story here as it would reveal too many of those surprises. Suffice it to say that there is a lot more to the tale than is immediately apparent. I enjoyed that and especially liked the way that it all grew in complexity as we went along. The characters are somewhat less interesting and I think the strength of the novel lies mostly in the storytelling and not the narrators.

The Absolute Value of Mike, by Kathryn Erskine

Mike's father is absolutely convinced that Mike should become an engineer. Never mind that Mike is hopeless with math or spatial relationships. Dad is obsessed. So, when Dad gets an opportunity to go overseas for the summer, he decides to send Mike to his distant relatives Moo and Poppy in rural Pennsylvania to help Poppy build an "artesian screw" and hone his engineering skills.

That's when the fun really begins. Moo is half-blind and confused, and her driving is downright terrifying. Poppy is grieving his dead son and completely tuned out. The entire town is obsessed (and united) around the goal of raising enough money to adopt a Romanian orphan named Misha. As Mike gets sucked into the plan, he discovers that he may make a lousy traditional engineer, but he's good at getting this oddball group to come together.

Erskine has a wonderful ability to come up with lively and original stories. So far, she hasn't fallen into a rut and each of her three novels has been unique. While stories about quirky small towns tend to drive me nutty (as they usually come across as big city stereotypes of what life in rural areas are like), this one doesn't fit the mold. For while the characters all seem like crazy hayseeds at first, their behavior is eventually explained. All of which sends a message to Mike (and the reader) that initial impressions are deceiving.

Mike is also an appealing character. He's quick tempered, jumps to conclusions and a bit stubborn, but these are traits that actually serve him well (and to which boys as a whole will relate). He occasionally comes across a bit too insightful for his age (14), but struggles realistically with self-identity and his maturing relationship with his Dad. While many classic YA books have done this too, it's fallen out of vogue. It's nice to find a good coming-of-age boy book. And it's particularly nice to find a book for boys that focuses on human relationships and not blowing things up or winning the big game.

As You Wish, by Jackson Pearce

After Viola discovers that her best friend and ex-boyfriend Lawrence is gay, she feels alone and invisible. The solution, she is convinced, is to find a way to get over Lawrence entirely and find someone new. If she could pull that off, life would be so much better!

So, when a jinn (a genie) shows up and grants her three wishes, it might well seem like a perfect solution. However, Viola is smart enough to realize that she cannot simply wish herself to happiness. In fact, she finds it difficult (if not impossible) to imagine a set of wishes she truly wants. But a strange thing happens: the longer it takes her to decide three things to wish for, the more clearer she becomes about how to achieve happiness. Ironically, it will come to depend on her ability to not use up those wishes. A battle of wills erupts with surprising consequences all round.

A fascinating twist on the Aladdin story. Pearce has fun reimagining the story as a more blatant exploration of adolescent identity and self-discovery than the traditional tale allows. All well and good and it might have made a memorable riff. The ingredients are all in place for a fable about how happiness truly comes from within. But somewhere along the way, Pearce decided that that wasn't the book that she wanted to write. Instead, she plunges midway into a more traditional romance. This is unexpected and will appeal to a particular audience, but seemed like a waste of a good story to me.

You Are Not Here, by Samantha Schutz

Told in verse, You Are Not Here is the story of Annaleah and Brian's short-lived romance, cut short when Brian suddenly dies. In the aftermath of Brian's death, Annaleah falls into self-pity and shuts herself off from her friends and family in grief. It doesn't help that her friends never liked Brian and that Brian never publicly acknowledged the relationship. Isolated, with her right to grieve unrecognized and unvalidated, Annaleah spends day after day at Brian's grave, trying to draw some sense of it all. Slowly, she manages to pull herself out of her depression, helped along by persistent friends and a chance for new love in the form of a guy at work.

Verse novels, I'm fond of noting, are very much hit or miss. I find them so risky that I usually avoid them altogether. This is one of the successes. It doesn't succeed so much on the strength of the poetry (some of which is good) or on the occasional poignant observation (far too easy when continuity is optional). It works in this case because of Schutz's keen sense of the human psyche. The grief that Annaleah is feeling is authentic and her feelings in general are real. Surprisingly, for a novel about grief, there are some really hot sex scenes in here as well (a particularly memorable shower scene sticks out). All of which is to say that Schutz sees a world that is full of many emotions, where a character can cry and laugh, grow angry and even lust -- all in one package. A fair share of sage advice about overcoming grief is a valuable side benefit.

The Big Crunch, by Pete Hautman

June has been dragged from one town to another by her "never look back" father. She's learned that everywhere she goes, schools and kids are pretty much the same. That is, until she meets Wes. It isn't love at first sight, but after a few false starts, they fall for each other. Unfortunately, soon enough June has to move again. This time, though, is different and June and Wes struggle to stay together, realizing that friends in life are not always interchangeable.

While there isn't much of a plot, it's an interesting book. The romance, despite the hype of the dust jacket (which also strangely refers to the girl as Jen), is by-the-numbers. But that really isn't the point here. It's the characters who are interesting. Their language is refreshingly frank and sounds authentically real. And not just the kids -- the adults also sound painfully real. Cliches like the totally self-absorbed teen or the arrogant/clueless adult are tossed out, and replaced by real human beings. The result are people who are plain appealing to read about. So what if the story breaks no new narrative ground? I could read these folks reciting the phone book and would still be interested!

The Running Dream, by Wendelin Van Draanen

Jessica has nearly always thought of herself as a runner. From when she was little, running meant freedom. And running on the track team has been her favorite thing in the world. So when an accident crushes her leg and the limb is amputated, she has to redefine herself. How will she ever survive not being able to run again?

Step by step, Van Draanen shows how Jessica heals her physical and psychic wounds as best she can, and how she re-learns her abilities and her limits. Along the way, she befriends a younger handicapped girl who helps her in her recovery.

Most of the novel is good but average -- a well-researched story about amputation and rehabilitation. There's lots of nice details about how prosthetics are fitted and how they work. I was reminded of a similar book I read a few years back by Priscilla Cummings called A Face First (about a girl recovering from significant burn damage). It's one of my all-time favorite books. The challenge with this type of story is taking all of that research and making the story still flow -- combining entertainment with the education. Cummings pulled it off, but I didn't feel like Van Draanen did as well here. For its majority, the book is more a string of episodes -- related to each other but never quite flowing together.

All of this changes in the last sixty pages or so, when Van Draanen seemingly discovers the unifying theme for her story and brings it all home. Having gotten 2/3 through the book, I wasn't expecting such a strong finish, but it easily made the rest of the book (which isn't bad!) worth reading.

Jumpstart the World, by Catharine Ryan Hyde

When 15 year-old Elle's mother decides to settle down with her new child-hating boyfriend, Mom decides that Elle should be settled down in her own apartment. Despite feeling hurt by the abandonment, Elle doesn't really mind because she's always been a loner (and also because Mom has never been very attentive in the first place). Elle has learned that she can't really allow people into her life.

That starts to change through the adoption of a rescue cat and her hard crush for the older man next door. The cat isn't terribly friendly and the man next door is a bit different. In fact, Elle's entire new world is full of misfits and colorful characters, but somehow she finds what she needs from the diverse group.

"Jumpstart the world" as a phrase will probably not resonate as well as Hyde's earlier "pay it forward," but she is attempting to weave the same magic: telling a story that is deceptively simple while delivering a bigger message. As a story, though, it didn't work. In this case, the message is hindered by the narrator, who is maddeningly contradictory. She's astute and well-spoken, but immature. She's capable of taking care of herself and articulating complex feelings, yet prejudiced and selfish. Being so articulate, her self-realizations sound fake (you find it hard to believe she was ever so ignorant in the first place) and her changes are too sudden.

The supporting characters are also very thin. In some cases like Elle's Mom or Molly this works very well, leaving open plenty of room for reader-supplied elaboration. With others, like Elle's schoolfriends, the flatness seems a bit lazy.

Matched, by Ally Condie

It starts with the matching ceremony where Cassia, against all odds, ends up betrothed to her childhood friend Xander (she can't believe her luck, since the matching ceremony usually links you up to a complete stranger!). But when the face of another local bad boy named Ky accidentally appears instead of Xander's on the forms, the mistake triggers a series of events that has Cassia questioning the rules and customs of her society.

In this future dystopia, choice has been replaced with statistical predetermination and planning. Even the act of teenage rebellion is carefully charted, observed, and controlled. Cassia though is one tough nut to crack and for every revelation of official control, Cassia has a couple of secrets up her sleeve to strike back.

While the novel starts off as some sort of YA love triangle (and occasionally drifted back into that territory), author Condie is sharp enough to not dwell on that for long. Cassia knows that there is more at stake in this world than her romantic feelings.

I liked Cassia. She's bright, brave, and insightful. Condie lets her be girlie enough to make her realistic and relatable, but she has strength. Her rebellion against unjust authority will universally resonate with her readers (and it's nice to remember that Huxley's Brave New World appealed to the young in his day as well).

The Absolute Value of -1, by Steve Brezenoff

Told mostly in three separate voices of allegedly close friends, this is the story of Lily, Noah, and Simon -- three teens finding love and getting high. Noah's dad beats on him and Simon's dad is dying. Lily seems to be mostly obsessed with trying to go out with Simon (while Simon's interests lie mostly elsewhere). Is there a point to all of this? It's hard to find one!

There are plenty of clever ideas and some smart dialogue, but I found myself getting lost while trying to follow who was whom and what their motivations were. By the time I was half-way through the book, I wasn't really able to tell anymore how the action fit together. The characters are numerous and largely indistinct. The overall result is a messy read with an inconclusive ending.

Freak Magnet, by Andrew Auseon

Charlie is a definite freak. He says whatever comes to his mind (often with hillarious results) and gets worse when he's nervous. Gloria is a self-described "freak magnet," who somehow attracts the attention of every strange guy she meets. Their initial disastrous encounter is no surprise. What is a surprise is how well they eventually hit it off, discovering kindred feelings driven by similar hardships and dreams.

The result is a charmingly off-beat romance. It can get a bit weird at times (the narrative is terribly random), but Charlie and Gloria are endearing. While Charlie's flaws are immediately apparent, Gloria's take some time to reveal themselves. Their self-absorption is both realistic and dramatically interesting. And you'll find yourself liking them in spite of it all.

If you like a tight tied-up ending, this one's loose ends will drive you nuts, but it drives home the message that the ending is really not the point -- it's the trip we take to get there.

The Complete History of Why I Hate Her, by Jennifer Richard Jacobson

Nola loves her little sister Song, but after years of worrying about Song's health (she has a brain tumor), Nola needs to get away and have some time for herself. She goes up to Maine to spend the summer waitressing, and immediately befriends Carly. At first, Carly seems the perfect antidote -- energetic, fun, resourceful -- and Carly is drawn in. But slowly, Carly reveals a possessive streak that borders on a pathology and her behavior becomes more and more threatening.

The story starts a bit slow and I was left wondering where it was actually heading, but once Carly's dark side started to appear, I got sucked in. What that tells me is that Carly was a much more interesting character than Nola. Evil is generally more enthralling and Carly has a lot of interesting stuff going on (and so much more that wasn't even discussed -- why is she the way she is?). Nola goes through some growth and re-bonds with her sister, but she's terribly passive and easily manipulated. It's hard to really care very much about her.

The Dark Divine, by Bree Despain

Grace Divine has a hard time maintaining her reputation as the pastor's daughter. Folks talk and eyes are always on her. So, when bad boy Daniel shows up again, it is not all that surprising that Grace's older brother Jude makes Grace promise to keep her distance. But the thing about promises is that they are so hard to keep! As could be predicted, it doesn't take long for Grace and Daniel to hook up, but the level of familial hostility they encounter suggests that something serious is up. It's about then that the bodies begin to pile up and you know that this is no simple forbidden teen romance, but rather one of those supernatural thrillers where "immortal soul" and "prom dress" feature in equal importance.

Yes, I have found myself digesting a werewolf romance novel. Worse, it's the first installment of a series! If anyone has some spare silver weaponry nearby to cure, let me know.

But seriously, how was it? Not bad, if you get beyond the sheer exploitative value of this new franchise. There's nothing even vaguely original here and the plot's silly, but if you want a hot romance mixed with supernatural powers, this is basically your number. And for those who thought that the Twilight franchise (and Bella in particular) was an insult to intelligent young women, you probably want to give this one a pass. But if you like cute heroic boys who have nothing better to do than to lock you in "hard, but soft" ... err... kisses, then this is the place!

Mostly Good Girls, by Leila Sales

Violet has always been a little jealous of her best friend Katie. Katie is effortlessly perfect: great grades, great looks, and wealthy. In contrast, Violet has always had to struggle to make it. But in their junior year, Violet finds that -- with a lot of hard work -- she can do a "mostly good" job. Meanwhile, Katie seems to have lost all interest in playing by the rules and is losing her veneer of perfection. The changes begin to drive the two girls apart.

It's a nicely written story about the girls and their friendship, but it doesn't really go anywhere until within 100 pages of the end when a plot finally develops out of the story. The tension is brief and resolved quickly and seems secondary. The meat of the story is really the relationship between Violet and Katie. So, if you like girl-bonding, this is a very satisfying read in terms of content, detail, and realism. But my sense was that Sales only seemed to realize the important of telling a story late in the process and I found the book insubstantial.

Please Ignore Vera Dietz, by A. S. King

In the aftermath of the death of her best friend Charlie, Vera reflects on their times together and tries to cope with her grief and guilt. This is all complicated by her recovering alcoholic father and his tendencies towards denial. A school bully also stirs things up.

Dark and worldly, King pulls no punches in showing a landscape of teenage and adult hypocrisy. And she does an equally capable job of producing a strong heroine who can rise above it all and become reborn. Vera is caustic (like the best YA heroines) but insightful and revealing. She rather reminded me of Melinda from Speak (still one of my all-time faves). Vera struggles a lot and can be annoyingly indecisive, but her growth is rewarding and affirming.

King has a strikingly original voice. Certainly, this book's Printz Honor was deserved, but this doesn't mean that the book is particularly easy to consume. The narrative is purposely disjointed, jumping back and forth in time and voice. The result is artistic, but not always enjoyable. You'll have to decide for yourself whether it works for you.

The Year Money Grew On Trees, by Aaron Hawkins

When thirteen year-old Jackson is offered a chance to farm his neighbor's apple orchard, he can't believe his luck. Her offer (the deed to the orchard itself if he does well, plus the proceeds of the apples he sells minus $8000) seems generous. Jackson however knows nothing about apple farming and he quickly discovers it is a lot of work! But with the help of his sisters and his cousins, the kids find a way through their troubles. The resulting story of hard work, honesty, and learning to appreciate the fruit (!) of one's labor is appealing and heart warming.

One could certainly offer a few complaints that the kids are almost too good to be true (the Waltons do Johnny Appleseed) and the message of clean living can be a bit saccharine. A more significant literary criticism would be that Jackson starts off so mature and grown up that it doesn't seem like he has much room left to grow (so the dramatic arc is a bit stunted). Finally, you can lodge a reasonable complaint that all of their challenges and problems are a bit too easily resolved. But all that would be missing the joy of a story where you really are rooting for the kids. This is good clean fun (and maybe a bit too idyllic), but it is a satisfying story.

The Unidentified, by Rae Mariz

Strangely apropos of recent local politics....

Katey and her classmates live in a world which, while quite different from ours, will seem eerily familiar. In their universe, teens "play" their way through school, scoring points on video games to learn their lessons, while being carefully monitored by the corporations that pay for their education. Internal social networking sites monitor their every thought and the sponsors spend considerable effort to use their thoughts and preferences to fine tune their marketing efforts. The kids, bribed by constant corporate giveaways and encouraged to form their cliques to promote sales for the sponsors, live enthralled by the sparkly world presented to them (part actual education and part advertisement). However, a rebel group of students are trying to subvert the paradigm and Katey (always something of an outsider) finds herself recruited by both the rebels and by the school's sponsors/administrators.

What starts off as a pretty heavy-handed fable about the dangers of materialism becomes over its course a nicely nuanced critique of the insidious influence of commercialism into public education (perhaps, the dream of our current Governor here in WI?). While obviously exaggerated, it would be hard to deny the extent to which most of the situations described in this alternate reality have some basis in our own, whether it is privacy concerns on social networks, corporate sponsorship in our classrooms, commercialization and co option of teen culture, and so on. I'd like to think that this book would make a very interesting catalyst for a hearty teen discussion about these issues.

Beyond its polemical nature, the story probably suffers a bit. The characters are thinly drawn and the narrative is cumbersome (slow at first and rushed at the end). So, as straight fiction, the book could be considered a bit weak. But I keep coming back to the message and its value as a sensationalized way to open a discourse on some serious non-fictional discussion.

Sharp eyes will notice that the UPC symbol on the cover is the book's actual code.

Grace, by Elizabeth Scott

In a dystopian totalitarian world, Grace is a fallen "Angel" (a young woman raised to be a suicide bomber to help her People strike back at the state). She was sent from her village in the Hills to eliminate the Minister of Culture. Once in place, however, she loses her will and ends up fleeing for her life. Exiled by her home as a failure and hunted by the regime as an enemy of the state, she flees for the border. Helping her escape on a train to the border is a young man with issues of his own. During their long trip, she reflects upon her life, her calling, and her reasons for failing to fulfill her mission.

While well-enough written, the story is thin and consists mostly of recycled stereotypes of totalitarian regimes, recycling the many horrors which should be familiar to anyone who has taken World Civ. As such, it isn't really clear what this particular piece adds to the cannon. For a better version of the same story, consider Ayn Rand's We the Living, Zamyatkin's We, or (of course) George Orwell's 1984. The point being that the basic theme here (totalitarianism sucks, but the human desire to survive is more powerful than any regime) has been done before.

The Ruby Notebook, by Laura Resau

In this "companion" (i.e., sequel) to The Indigo Notebook, it is a year later and Zeeta and her mother have moved from Ecuador to Provence. Zeeta is looking forward to being reunited with Wendell after a year apart, but she is also worried. Even though they have stayed in touch through daily emails and phone calls, a lot has changed in the past year (and it isn't just that the color of her notebooks that have changed!). In her mind, it seems like she is an entirely different person. Complicating matters, she's met a new boy and, while she isn't sure how she feels about him, it makes her wonder if Wendell is really the love of her life or just a phase from another time and place.

Various mysteries involving pigeons, fountains, and secret societies also figure in, as well as a "ghost" who keeps slipping special mementos into Zeeta's bag.

This fairly busy story shows much of the same love for cultural detail that is found in Resau's other books, but with a twist. In previous reviews, I chided her for always writing about the same things (indigenous subcultures in Latin America), but by switching to France, she's attempting to prove that she's far more versatile. While I can claim no credit for her change of scene, I will give her serious props for stretching herself. That said, however, I found the actual result a bit disappointing. She obviously knows the region, but not as well. And she lacks the obvious affection for France that she holds for Mexico. The result lacks the warmth that was so noticeable and noteworthy in her previous novels.

The current volume is also a more somber affair that plods fairly heavily through Zeeta's doubts and fears (focusing on her "ghost" and the search for it), before finally taking off in the last 100 pages or so with an unrelated (but much zestier) adventure.

7 Souls, by Barnabas Miller and Jordan Orlando

Mary's 17th birthday starts off very strangely, waking up naked in a display bed at the downtown Crate & Barrel shop. Her day goes decidedly downhill from there, as just about everyone ignores her, her boyfriend dumps her, and she ends up dead at the end of the day. But then things get plain weird as she finds herself taking possession of other people's bodies and slowly unravels what happened and why it did. By the end, she will be well enveloped in the world of brand name consumption, bad role-modeling, and Egyptian curses -- a combination which can only make sense in a book like this.

The story suffers a great deal from its general incoherency. As it careens from weird point to even weirder point, I kept hoping that an explanation would finally pop up that made sense. I didn't even mind when the plot shifted to supernatural explanations, but in the end things just don't make any sense and I'm not sure the authors ever intended them to do so. Rather, it's much more fun to just let the characters play Gossip Girl schtick (by which I mean pointless material consumption with no consequences or parental supervision) and throw in a lot of ultimately meaningless action.

I'd give this a miss. Miller is apparently a former hack for Alloy Entertainment. I think that basically says everything you need to know about this book.

Girl, Stolen, by April Henry

Griffin's attempt to carjack goes terribly awry when he finds Cheyenne in the backseat of the car. At first, Griffin is afraid that Cheyenne will identify him, but when he learns that she is blind, he realizes that she cannot. And being blind and addled with a case of pneumonia, Cheyenne is in no position to cause much trouble.

But Cheyenne is no passive victim. Her handicap has taught her to be self-reliant and she makes several decent attempts to escape her kidnapper. Griffin might have even let her go as he mostly just wanted the car. However, when Griffin's father learns how much money he could make from ransoming her, the situation turns decidedly more dangerous. Eventually, Griffin and Cheyenne find themselves as unlikely allies in a desperate attempt to escape with their lives.

For the most part, this is pretty innocuous suspense stuff. There's some attempt to inject educational material about blindness, burn recovery, and dyslexia into the story, but this is not a story with any deep literary pretensions. I really liked how resourceful and tough Cheyenne is and that she avoids being a hapless victim. Unfortunately, no one else really ever gets interesting and the adult bad guys are uninspired.