The Miseducation of Cameron Post, by Emily M. Danforth

Growing up in Miles City MT as a gay curious and outspoken teen hasn't been easy for Cameron.  While she isn't certain, she senses that her parents wouldn't approve of her explorations into homosexuality, but since they died in a car accident, she doesn't have to worry about confronting them.  Instead, for the first two hundred pages or so of this coming-of-age novel, we get the details of the furtive explorations that Cameron engaged in.  As such, this ostensibly fictional memoir is a detailed and authentic tale of growing up gay in a hostile environment.

But when Cameron is outed and sent to a boarding school to be re-educated (and have her sinful past exorcised), the story takes a turn into very dark territory.  The school she finds herself in isn't itself such a horrible place, but the sheer milieu (where anxious and fragile teens are bullied by prejudiced and clueless adults) is disturbing reading.  In spite of the challenges she faces, Cameron remains true and insightful enough to recognize the hypocrisy of the adults around her, even as she stays honest and recognizes that she hasn't figured everything out either.

The result is a striking book that reads far too authentically (and detailed) to be merely fiction.  Whether Danforth based the story on her own life, the life of a friend, or an amalgam of both isn't very clear, but it must be true.  And while it really shouldn't matter, it bothered me throughout the entire book.  The story is outstanding, but if it is simply autobiography than it could be a one-hit wonder.

Danforth has a fluid and florid style which displays great talent at writing beautiful prose.  She is tempted a bit too often for my liking with the need to drag everything out (as witnessed by spinning a 470-page story!), but no one could fault her crazy skills.  Not a single character in the story remains undeveloped.  While more than a few are hard to like, you come out at the end truly understanding each and every one.  That shows a sensitivity for the complexity of fear, homophobia, hormones, and uncertainty that underlie so many of the actions in the story.  Yes, Danforth certainly has an agenda here, but one would be hard pressed to fault the care she takes to explore various points of view.  That much of this insight comes out of older-than-her-years Cameron's narration is a bit regrettable, but it can be forgiven in the beauty which it is delivered.

It's hard to fault such a well-written and powerful book (especially if LGBT literature is something you support).  I will do so, but simply out of taste (the book was too long and the story too drawn-out). I cannot claim this is a bad book, but simply one I didn't like.  You may well find it incredible.  Regardless, it is certainly worth reading.

The Pledge, by Kimberly Derting

In Ludania, a strict caste system prevails.  While everyone can speak the common tongue of Englaise, the classes each have their own language and attempting to use a language other than your own is punishable by death.  The system, introduced to create peace, has degenerated into totalitarianism and a small group of revolutionaries fight a war to overthrow the queen to restore freedom.

Charlie is a young woman with a terrible secret:  she can understand all of the languages.  It's a talent that could get her killed and she hides it at all costs.  But when she meets a man named Max at a local rave who speaks a language she's never heard before (but immediately understands), he recognizes her for what she is.  To her surprise, rather than turn her in, he promises to defend her.

Billed as a dystopian novel, the story is actually more fantasy, with a mixture of other genres thrown in.  It's also something of a narrative mess.  The novel shifts gears at least three times, each time nearly completely tossing out the storyline in favor of a new direction.  This ratchets up the suspense, but makes less and less sense.  The characters suffer as a result and by the end, I found myself losing interest in who was doing stuff.  I liked the linguistic basis of the story, but even it becomes largely unimportant by the end.

Catching Jordan, by Miranda Kenneally

Jordan is an amazing quarterback, has led the team to State, and dreams of playing for Alabama after high school.  The fact that Jordan is a girl has never bothered anyone on her team - they know she can play ball.  But for Jordan's father, it's a big deal and she struggles with proving to him that she deserves to follow her dreams as much as any boy. The real challenge, however, comes when a new player joins the team.  Ty is different.  He's an excellent player and a stunning quarterback in his own right.  His arrival threatens Jordan's standing in the team, but, more than that, Jordan can feel herself falling for him.  Is there room in Jordan's dreams for a boy as well?

By all rights, I should despise this book.  I have no issue with romances, but the premise from the blurb ("What girl doesn't want to be surrounded by gorgeous jocks day in and day out?") is gag worthy.  Add in the fact that this is a book about football, and it should send me retching.  But sometimes if you take two toxic ingredients and put them together, you can make magic.  For me, this is really a book about an unusual young woman who stands up to male chauvinism with aplomb and finds a balance between love and career.  Dad is a bit of a two-dimension dweeb, but just about everyone else stands up off the page as a real character.  Jordan's relationship with Ty has real life in it and the author does an outstanding job at portraying the ups and downs of teen romance.  The boys on the team have personalities and Jordan's relationship with them felt natural and authentic.  You really don't need to know anything (or care) about football, although it doesn't hurt.

On a side note, the art department deserves a raspberry for the cover.  I might accept the boy on the left as a football player, but there's no way that Little Miss Waif on the right can toss a pigskin as well as Jordan does.  Kenneally is pretty clear that Jordan is a big person with a solid build.  The girl depicted here doesn't have enough meat on her bones to perform.

The Statistical Probability of Love at First Sight, by Jennifer E. Smith

Because of a complex confluence of events, Hadley's managed to miss her flight to London.  She's not all that broken up about it.  Truth be told, she really doesn't have much interest in attending her Dad's wedding to some woman who she's never met.  Getting bumped to the next flight, however, triggers a new and important chain of events.

She ends up sitting next to a young Brit named Oliver, who is heading home to London for an uncomfortable family gathering of his own.  Naturally, they hit it off wonderfully and have a moment on the flight.  But more than that, the experience helps Hadley crystallize her thoughts about her father and how his decisions have affected her.

There's nothing particularly unusual or striking about the story.  The territory it covers is well-tread and hardly original.  But sometimes, an old tried-and-true formula sparkles in the hands of a good writer.  This is a case in point.  Hadley and Oliver are nice characters and the reader is drawn into their story.  Their growth is tangible and, while not earth shattering, it is nonetheless rewarding.  The settings (mostly on the plane, but also some nice London detail) are realistic and entertaining.  This is an unremarkable story, which is nonetheless enjoyable.

Eve, by Anna Carey

In this new dystopian series, a plague has wiped out the bulk of the population.  Young orphans are sent to boarding schools to learn trades.  Eve is one of them -- a star pupil who plans to graduate as the Valedictorian and become a shining example for her peers.  But when Eve has a chance encounter with a local troublemaker named Arden who is trying to escape from school, Arden triggers Eve's curiosity about why they have never seen any of the graduates again after they leave.  Some last minute snooping uncovers the horrible truth about the program and the fate that awaits her.  Determined to not suffer that outcome, she flees and joins Arden in the wilderness.  Along with the help of a boy named Caleb, the young people make a run for a haven called Califia.

Having realized only a bit late that this was one of those pre-fab YA monstrosities from Alloy, I almost put it down, but I was stuck on a plane without anything else to read and it was a quick page-turner, so I gave it a shot.  As one would expect though, the story is formulaic and largely lifeless.  The post-apocalyptic scenario lacks originality (plague?  oh please!).  The situation is implausible (only a pre-teen would believe the baby-farm idea) and exists mostly to serve as an excuse for the inability of any adults to be useful.  The romance (this being an Alloy-committee production) is the retreaded forbidden love concept.  In sum, you can kill time with this, but the cynical commercialism of the series makes it a last resort.

The Fault In Our Stars, by John Green

John Green is a frustrating writer for me.  I absolutely LOVED his first book, Looking for Alaska, but his subsequent books seemed silly and fluffy.  His collaboration with Levithan was stupid and beneath him.  His aesthetic compass, in short, too easily thrown off by side projects.  But this book truly recaptures the beauty of his debut and kicks it up several notches.  I won't claim it is the Best. Book. Ever.  But I will claim it is one of the best books I've ever reviewed.  Thank you, Mr. Green, for restoring my faith in the genre.  Now, I guess I had better tell you the story....

Hazel and Augustus are adolescent cancer survivors, a status that they are ambivalent about, partly because of how it pigeonholes them in society, and partly because they don't really believe in survival. Before Hazel's miracle cure with an experimental drug, she was basically a goner.  And Augustus's recovery seems similarly tenuous.  But for two kids without much hope for the future, finding each other gives them something to hope for.  Together, they share a love for a novel called An Imperial Affliction which they agree captures the true pointlessness of their condition and a similar dedication for a series of blood-drenched military novels based a first-person shooter called "Price of Dawn." It's an uncommon match.

Thus, before anyone gets the idea that Green's latest book is a re-make of A Walk To Remember, you can be relieved to find that there's enough attitude here to shake you of that.  Self-pity isn't really the name of the game, and these wise-assed kids have enough irreverence to be funny and enough heartache to remind you that this isn't a comedy either.  The young people here are wonderfully insightful, realistically reflective, and as anti-stereotypical as you could find.  The result is an extremely well-developed character study of what dying means when you are young (and it's happening all around you).

Knowing that a story like this has a sad ending (why wouldn't it?) won't protect you from the devastation that awaits you.  But that really isn't the point.  Far more important is the message about trying to make a difference in a world where we all die (some just sooner than others).

Nature Girl, by Jane Kelley

City girl Megan can't possibly imagine a worse summer -- stuck in Vermont with her older sister and her parents, with no computer and no television.  But the worst part of all is the fact that her best friend didn't come with her, so she's stuck in the woods on her own!  Frustrated and angry, she dreams up schemes to rescue her summer, making herself (and her family) miserable.

Then a hike in the woods goes wrong.  Initially lost, Megan finds herself on the Appalachian Trail.  But rather than use this information to find her way home, she decides to set out on a trip that will change her life.

For what the book is (an adventure book aimed at middle readers), it's a surprisingly effective story.  Megan is a bit too annoying at first and her transformation toward maturity doesn't always ring true (for example, when she figures out on her own how to gut and cook a fish), but the storytelling has a predictably pleasing arc.  Yes, we all know that Megan will gain perspective and maturity, but it is no less enjoyable to read about it in the knowing.  The reconciliation with her friend seems tacked on, but offers additional pay-off in the novel's happy ending.

You Have Seven Messages, by Stewart Lewis

After Luna's mother died, Luna didn't really grieve over her.  Now, a year later, she decides to visit her mother's studio, where she discovers her mother's cell phone...with seven messages on it.  Curious, she starts to listen to the messages and, through them, finds that there is a lot more to her mother's death (and life) than she previously realized. On the side, she also has to deal with her father dating again, the attentions of a boy next door, and her own burgeoning talent for photography.

For a book that could have been so much about internal transformation, this story is awfully cluttered with external (and frequently over-the-top) events.  The fact that she is rich and that her father is famous was distracting enough.  Once we start name-dropping Drew Barrymore and Orlando Bloom, it all got to be a bit too much. And, as we jetted off to Tuscany and took an unsupervised train to Paris, I realized that we were in teen fantasy land.  The story was no longer about growing up, it was about having fun fun fun.  I get that it's great to fantasize, but did we have to go so far off the deep end?  How much sympathy can we really have for the poor little rich girl?

Story inconsistencies pop up as well (how does a phone carried at the moment that Mom is struck by a car magically end up back at her studio?) and Luna herself is jarringly inauthentic (wiser than her years would ever be, with the subsequent lack of room for growth).  The end result is entertaining fluff that is fun to read.

The Scorpio Races, by Maggie Steifvater

Every Fall, on the island of Thisby, the sea brings forth the capaill uisce -- the water horses.  These fierce carnivorous cousins of terrestrial equines are captured and raced by the local inhabitants.  It's a dangerous pastime and riders are routinely mauled or drowned by their steeds.

Years ago, Sean's parents were killed by a capall uisce. As an orphan, Sean has devoted himself to mastering the skill of riding them.  For four years running, he has won the annual race, but has been unable to acquire the one thing he wants in life.  Meanwhile, Puck lacks Sean's experience, but she is motivated to win the race for its large cash prize in order to pay the debt on her home.  While her chances are slim, she hopes that by buying back her home she can convince her brother to stay on the island.  Lack of experience is only one of the hurdles she must face.  The islanders resist her attempt to race on principle -- no woman has ever tried to do it before.

While horses and horse racing are not my thing, I really admired this book.  The story is complex, both in terms of the interactions of the various characters and also in the details of the culture of Thisby.  Modeled on a British isle somewhere, the locale never quite connects totally with reality.  Still, this is not really a fantasy story either as Steifvater periodically brings us back to the real world.  It's as if this were an altered parallel universe -- like our own except for the existence of flesh-hungry water horses!  That vagueness of time and place is very effective and gives the story a sense of timelessness that will keep it fresh for years to come.

I have had trouble with Stiefvater's writing in the past.  While I attempted to read it, I never managed to get through Shiver. In the past, her style always seemed inaccessible and overly artsy.  This novel is a different experience altogether.  It's suspenseful, surprising you all the way up to the end.  And it's a story with the potential to excite a mega-audience, like The Hunger Games.  How can you go wrong with a fierce heroine, nasty monsters, and a dangerous climactic race?

Fracture, by Megan Miranda

Against everyone's expectations, Delaney manages to survive her plunge through the ice. Lost in the water for eleven minutes, she was pronounced brain dead, yet somehow emerges from her coma. And while she is brain damaged, she shows no sign of anything different on the outside. On the inside is a different story. For some reason she cannot explain, she feels drawn to people who are dying. And a stranger named Troy Varga, who suddenly appears after the accident, tells her she is not alone.

An interesting premise that went off in unexpected directions. The pacing of the story is glacial, so I figured I pretty much knew where we were going (perhaps Delaney was an angel or a ghost?) but Miranda kept throwing me a curve ball. While that kept me guessing, I'm not sure it made for a good story.

In addition to the pacing problem, the characters are not very memorable (sad to say, with three separate guys in the story, I never really could tell them apart). This, combined with numerous subplots I couldn't quite figure out (the Mom's history of abuse, the love story with Decker, etc.), made it a hard book to really enjoy. The story simply doesn't come together in the end.

The Mockingbirds, by Daisy Whitney

When Alex wakes up in Carter's room, she isn't initially certain how she ended up there. And when she realizes that she's had sex with him, she can't figure out how it happened -- the night before is simply a blur. It takes her a while and some encouragement from her friends to come to the realization that she was raped.

She doesn't want to go to the police. She's ashamed of her own behavior and worried that she brought this on herself. But she learns of a group of students at her school called The Mockingbirds who quietly run a peer court to judge cases like this. Despite her fears and shame, she decides to use the system to take a stand.

For what is an important subject and a decent attempt to shine a sympathetic light on it, the premise of the story is surprisingly silly (the adults and school administrators in particular are portrayed as worse than useless, while the students are wise beyond their years) and the storytelling is clunky. An awful lot of effort is expended to explain the intricacies of the court system the students have created, while the story itself tends to drift into underdeveloped subplots (Alex's music, for example). There are times when the plot becomes contradictory as if revisions were half-finished. In sum, this is no Speak.

All that said, I really liked Alex herself. She's strong, reflective, and sympathetic. Whitney has an agenda (one that I'm sympathetic to) and Alex is the vessel of that plan, but I didn't mind the preachiness because I liked her so much. Strong character development and a kick-ass heroine goes a long way towards helping me to like the book.

Stolen, by Lucy Christopher

On a trip to Vietnam with her parents, Gemma is kidnapped by a stranger. Drugging and smuggling her out of the airport in Bangkok, he takes her to the remote Australian outback. While she doesn't immediately recognize him, it turns out that he has been stalking her for years, obsessed with the idea that they were meant to be together.

Naturally, she's terrified of him, but she's also resourceful and works tirelessly on her escape. The problem is that she has no idea where she is and their location is so remote that it seems hopeless to imagine finding any place to which to flee. As her stay lengthens, she finds herself growing sympathetic to her kidnapper and fears that her emotions are betraying her.

A fascinating in-depth study of kidnapper and victim, with some beautiful imagery thrown in. I was reminded throughout of Nicolas Roeg's film Walkabout in the way that desolate nature of the wilderness colors the tenor of the victim's attempts to escape (and also in the dynamic of the boy-girl relationship, of course!).

Written in the form of a latter from Gemma to her kidnapper, the style can seem a bit too immediate, but that device also serves well to ratchet up the emotion and makes the story much more intimate. Subplots about an easily-domesticated camel and a feisty rooster (and to desert life overall) are surprisingly effective parallels to Gemma's own situation. The result is that the overall icky nature of the plot is counterbalanced by the profound naturalism of story.

Where Things Come Back, by John Corey Whaley

Cullen struggles with the death of a cousin to drugs and the disappearance of his younger brother. His parents are falling apart, but what bugs Cullen most of all is all the hoopla over the supposed sighting of an extinct woodpecker and the ass-hats of his little town of Lily who try to cash in on that attention.

In parallel, a separate (and more interesting) storyline traces the failed missionary work of Benton Sage and his college roommate Cabot who in turn becomes obsessed with the forgotten Ethiopian Orthodox Bible and its story of Archangel Gabriel's betrayal of mankind. And while the two stories seem completely unrelated until nearly the very end of the book, they intersect in a significant and deadly way.

Zombies also play a part.

What you end up with is a critically acclaimed, Printz-award winning story that isn't actually about much of anything. Some people claim it is a coming-of-age story, but Cullen really doesn't change all that much. What's striking in fact is that, while a lot of interesting things happen to the characters, none of them are interesting in themselves. Not only is this not a true coming-of-age book (which would require a dramatic arc of some sort), but it isn't a YA book either. The major protagonists are post-adolescents and their concerns are mostly those of adults. If anything, the story reminded me of John Irving's The World According to Garp, but without the clever satire of that classic. It's well-written and original, but hardly the best book of the year.

The Gospel According to Larry, by Janet Tashjian

When whiz kid Josh decides to start a website to promote his anti-consumerist rants, he does it initially to resolve his boredom. He decides to keep it anonymous (using the name "Larry" as a pseudonym) and, as an experiment, tries to promote it at school through a fan club. He never imagines that it will amount to much. But, before he knows it, people across the country tune in to his site and its message. Millions of people become fans and it spawns a festival and even (ironically) various consumer fads. As Larry's popularity grows, Josh struggles with whether he should reveal the true authorship or not.

In some ways, Tashjian was a bit ahead of her time when the book was written in 2001. However, eleven years later, a blog going viral isn't much of a story. The critique of consumerism also seems like a dated concern (or rather, it is treated so innocently compared to what we see today). In sum, the story is well-written and the book is a quick read, but it really doesn't have as much to say in today's more cynical world.

You Are My Only, by Beth Kephart

When she was twenty, Emmy's baby was stolen from her. Developmentally challenged and struck with grief, no one believed that she hadn't done something to it and she was unable to communicate what had happened. Instead, she was involuntarily committed.

Many years later, home-schooled Sophie breaks her mother's strict no-contact policy with the outside world and befriends a boy who lives next door. He in turn introduces her to his two aunts, who care for him and take an interest in her. As a result, her life changes dramatically.

Told in alternating chapters, Emmy's and Sophie's stories never really coalesce, but instead develop parallel tales of suffering and eventual redemption. The resulting novel is complex and beautifully crafted, but difficult to follow and certainly not a young adult novel. The use of language is highly stylistic and takes a bit to get used to, but adds to the strength of the characters. I found it a hard slog, even as I recognized its literary merits.

Queen of Secrets, by Jenny Meyerhoff

Essie is starting her sophomore year off on a good note. She has made the cheerleader team and Austin (the cute football player she's been eyeing) has started to notice her. But it could all be ruined by her geeky cousin Micah whose insistence on wearing a yarmulke to school has kids teasing him. When that teasing turns nasty and escalates into more dangerous things, Essie finds herself forced to choose between the fun life she was planning on enjoying and standing up for her family. The fact that her family has been hiding things from her simply complicates matters.

While pitched for a younger teen audience, several mature themes (including a fairly explicit sex scene) will probably flag this for some nervous adults. That's a shame, though, as the book tackles a lot of great identity issues that will resonate best with younger readers.

For myself, I found the writing style to be a bit preachy and the morality issues depicted too black-and-white -- in a style which seems to suggest that the author doesn't quite trust the readers to figure it out on their own. However, I liked the subject matter and the pace was right. The characters are complex (even though Essie is essentially a good girl, she gets to make a few mistakes). Peer pressure becomes an easy scapegoat, but in this case that felt right. In sum, a decent book for younger readers (older ones will probably find it too simplistic).

Juliet Immortal, by Stacey Jay

In this mash-up of Romeo and Juliet with Highlander, the young lovers are actually (im)mortal enemies. It turns out that their romance ended on a bad note, when Romeo stabbed Juliet through the heart in a vain attempt to achieve immortality. As a result, they entered an endless cycle of violence, periodically reborn, with Romeo primed to kill Juliet over and over, and Juliet attempting to preserve true love wherever she finds it. Much mayhem and violence ensues.

I don't think I can explain much more of the plot. That's a bit of a problem. At some point, I actually gave up on following it. I think the ending was a happy one, but I didn't understand it, so I'm not so sure.

The story has good pacing and the action level keeps up. Juliet is pretty kick-ass and has no problem standing up for herself. So, you won't be bored and it won't offend anyone. But I really couldn't get my head around the purpose of this adventure. It certainly gets some points for being the most outrageous riff on Shakespeare I've read to date, but I really couldn't get much out of it.

Liars and Fools, by Robin Stevenson

When Fiona's mother was alive, the two of them loved to go sailing, but after her mother's death at sea, Fiona's father forbids her from even going to look at their boat. Worse, he's planning to sell it. But that isn't the only problem. Dad has started to see another woman and wants Fiona to get to know her. Fiona isn't ready for that and wants to do whatever she can to split them up. When she discovers that the woman believes that she can speak with the dead, Fiona sets out to prove that she's a fake. In the process, however, she makes some interesting discoveries about herself and her family.

A modest but surprisingly effective novel about grief and letting go. These novels work best for me when the adults get some time to discuss their feelings as well, and Stevenson does a really nice job of sharing between children and adults. At times, it can get a bit too clinical, but that doesn't interfere with the overall authenticity of people describing their anger and frustrations. There are so many of these books about dead mothers (why do teens like to imagine dead parents so much?) that it's hard to make a book stand out, but this one would be on my short list of good books on the theme.

Wonderland, by Joanna Nadin

Since she lost her mother, Jude had to deal with the feeling that she is the invisible one ("Jude the Obscure" she calls herself). But when things have gotten bad, she's had her best friend Stella to turn to. Stella is everything that Jude wishes she could be: strong, carefree, and unafraid of anyone. But as she grows older, Jude begins to realize that her obsession with Stella pales in comparison with Stella's own behavior. When it becomes apparent just how unhealthy the relationship between them has become, Jude isn't sure she has the strength to break the ties and go out on her own.

It's a gripping story, but not very original (including the plot twist at the end, which has appeared in other books I've read recently -- although revealing that fact would ruin the ending). And the story is not helped any by the whiny nature of Jude herself. I got that she is weak-willed and self-pitying, but it's hard to take that in large doses. You wanted to see some growth there and (despite resolving the immediate symptoms), I did not get much of a sense of character growth. Or perhaps, I just never started to care enough?

I can't judge how realistic it would be for a teen to get drinks in a pub or have her boyfriend up in her room, but American readers may be a bit shocked at how much freedom a sixteen year-old can have in the UK (where the story takes place).

The Pirate Captain's Daughter, by Eve Bunting

Aarg! Avast yez scurvy dogs!

When Catherine's mother dies, she is determined to join her father at sea. Despite his claim to her mother that he is an honorable captain in the royal navy, Catherine has known for some time that he's really a pirate! At the age of fifteen, Catherine longs for an adventure on the high seas and she begs her father to smuggle her aboard as a boy (women and girls are not welcome on ships). He's reluctant to do so, as it will be dangerous for both of them if she is found out. But the biggest danger comes from a different source as it becomes apparent that a member of the crew is plotting to steal from the captain!

It's an odd book that combines some decent historical research (nice naval details) with silly stereotypical pirate-speak. The story itself drifts about like a ship in the doldrums. The pacing is fine, but it seems disorganized (foreshadowing is non-existent, plot details randomly pop up, subplots are dropped, etc.). It feels like a rough draft or maybe a rushed job.