My Life in Black and White, by Natasha Friend

As long as Lexi can remember, she's defined herself through her beauty (this isn't ego, but simply what she has absorbed from others who always commented upon her appearance).  So, when she is permanently disfigured in a car accident, she has no idea of how to cope with the change.  Who is she in a world where she is no longer seen as perfect?  Coming back from the trauma and rebuilding her life will be a big challenge.

The situation is complicated by other changes in her life.  Right before the accident, she was betrayed by her boyfriend and her best friend, which puts her in a bind: just when she needs the support of the people who care for her, she's lost two people she trusted.

While the basic outline of the story would seem prone to melodrama and hysterics, Friend keeps the whole thing level-headed.  By the end, most everything works out, but the solutions are plausible (conflicts stay realistically unresolved, but people move on). The story is well-paced and, aside from a few unforeshadowed plot twists which seemed largely engineered to keep things moving, the plot is logical.  Moreover, the characters are believable and generally likable.  By the end, even the more evil folks have been redeemed and explained.  And I found Lexi's growth away from her obsession with external appearances, while familiar, to be treated in a fresh manner.

Being Friends With Boys, by Terra Elan McVoy

Charlotte isn't very good with girls and she's at her most comfortable around her guy friends, whether it's long-time friend Oliver (who leads the band that Charlotte manages) or newer guys like Trip.  But the drawback with hanging out with guys is that they aren't very good for baring your heart to.  Far worse, though, is navigating the fine line between friendship and romance with them.

There is an overall story about the band (Sad Jackal) that Charlotte and her boys are in and their struggles to stay together (and a small subplot about Charlotte finding her voice quite literally as a singer for the band), but the vast majority of the book is simply about navigating the minefield of adolescent romance and friendship.  With its sensitive ear to how older teens interrelate, the book will resonate with its target audience.  For older readers, it mostly elicited groans of recognition (I'm reminded of a friend of mine who explained she couldn't read YA because it brought back up all those painful memories).  The idea of teens trying to balance romantic and platonic relationships is a good subject and treated with great authenticity by McVoy.

In comparison with her other books (which weren't that bad to begin with) this is really a stand out novel.  McVoy navigates the complex drama of relationships quite well, highlighting the different issues that can arise (ranging from jealousy to misunderstandings) that plague adolescence.  And Charlotte is a very sympathetic character -- hardly perfect, but reasonably clear-headed.  The book shines when we're in her head trying to figure out what makes boys act the way they do.  The book gets slightly weaker when we're amidst Charlotte's family (it's a bit much to expect this book to juggle family conflicts as well) and scenes with Charlotte's estranged mother seem largely disposable. Those are minor quibbles though, as overall this is a magnificent achievement.

Tiger Lily, by Jodi Lynn Anderson

Fifteen year-old Tiger Lily is betrothed to oafish Giant, but longs to be in the woods of Neverland, hanging out with fun-loving Peter and his gang of Lost Boys.  Her sneaking out threatens her standing in the village, but she brazenly refuses to care and fantasizes about living with Peter forever.  In spite of this, Tiger Lily has never trusted anyone, and even with Peter, she stays restless and aloof, confident that she can have it both ways.  It is thus a rude surprise when dainty submissive Wendy arrives from England.  She quickly captures Peter's heart (and the loyalties of the Lost Boys as well), leaving a bitter and jealous Tiger Lily in the lurch.

For anyone raised on Walt Disney's Peter Pan, the story here will be quite a rude shock.  All the characters make an appearance (Captain Hook, the other pirates, and even the crocodiles are there), but everything is slightly different and a bit darker.  This version, narrated by Tinkerbell, is far less about Peter than the troubled adolescent Tiger Lily.  Gone is the joyous "I won't grow up" of the original and in its place is a world where another girl's withering stare is the deadliest of weapons.  The focus has been shifted to a tale of betrayed friendships and vengeance.

It's a very imaginative piece and really quite unlike Anderson's previous novels.  It's certainly one of the more unique retellings that I've read in a while.  However, it is not an easy read.  There are a lot of characters to track, the narration itself is opaque, and overall it is hard to get into.  By the end, I found myself enjoying it, but it took a lot of work.

Shooting Stars, by Alison Rushby

Jo is a professional photographer and, at 16, the youngest paparazzo on the circuit. Her age and diminutive size makes her an expert at getting into places (and getting the shots) that no one else can.  Still, even she is surprised when she is offered a big contract to sneak into a treatment facility for troubled teens and land some snapshots of heartthrob Ned Hartnett (a guy that Jo herself has serious hots for).  At first, she thinks her reluctance to take the pictures is caused by an ethical dilemma, but she comes to realize that the cause of her anxiety is much more complex.

The story is a bit silly, with whole bunches of improbabilities and illogical plot twists.  Who would really give a teen the type of money (and responsibility) described here?  How would you sneak in to an exclusive mental facility for teenagers as a patient?  My own personal favorite -- given what I do for a living -- is the kids' alleged red-eye flight westward from Logan to LAX! 

You know you're in trouble when most of the reviews for this book exclaim about how "cute" it is.  Let's just say that the plot wasn't really meant to make sense.  Nor, for that matter, were the characters.  Jo is an OK heroine.  Her ethical quandary seems a bit exaggerated (given her chosen profession) and is repeated so often that it grows tiresome, but she's fun when she's on the hunt.  And that sums up a lot of the characters -- there's not much depth and when they start baring their souls, I found it hard to really care.  They certainly couldn't be taken seriously.

Small Damages, by Beth Kephart

When Kenzie finds she is pregnant, her mother immediately assumes that they will simply "fix the problem." Her boyfriend is not much better:  he's heading to Yale in the Fall and can't be bothered with a child.  And neither he nor her mother can understand why Kenzie wants to carry the baby to term.  But upon learning Kenzie's intent, her mother decides that the best thing to do is to send Kenzie away to Spain, where Kenzie can have the baby and give it up for adoption to some old friends of Mom's.

And so, Kenzie finds herself in a small town in sun-drenched Spain, working as an assistant to a cook named Estela -- a woman with a past and regrets of her own.  And, as the baby comes to term, Kenzie deals with her anger at being sent away and with her search for the meaning of "family."

It's a very lyrical book with beautiful language and is simultaneously surprisingly brisk to read.  Readers who enjoy poetry and verse books will delight in Kephart's prose.  That said, the style is also opaque and hard to follow (and, at times, a bit too precious).  I personally would have preferred a clearer and more direct style (it can get exhausting to read pretty prose!).  And while the story certainly evoked a mood, it all seemed a bit dull.

Every Day, by David Levithan

Imagine a life where every day of your life you were a different person.  Some days a boy, some days a girl -- large, small, popular, outcast, gay, straight, transgendered, asexual.  You change so often that you don't even know who you are...yet you do because you remember who you were before.  It could be terrifying or lonely, but to survive it, you must become very self-aware, because (ironically) you lack a unique physical body.

It's hard enough to get by with the confusion of changing every day, but what happens when you fall in love?  How can you maintain a relationship when every day you change?

It's a fascinating concept that allows Levithan to explore (at first subtly and later - when he grows bored with subtle - with a sledgehammer) the concept of identity.  The romance nicely complicates things, but even without the issues of an interpersonal relationship, the book raises many interesting questions about the importance we place on appearance in defining who we are.  Thus, one of the most fascinating parts of the book is the beginning of each day, as our hero wakes up in a new body and we share his/her first impressions.  That initial first paragraph neatly sums up how the rest of the day will go.

Levithan the writer doesn't usually do much for me.  The writing is fine, but I don't like being preached to.  He's created some of the best LGBT literature, but he can get didactic (and even bigoted) at times.  I found particularly disturbing the chapter about the day as an overweight kid.  The character's unconcealed distaste mostly shows that Levithan himself believes that physical appearance matters as much as his hero says that it shouldn't.

Perfect Escape, by Jennifer Brown

The return home of Kendra's brother from the hospital ought to be a happy moment, but for her it's a source of stress.  Grayson suffers from OCD and his rituals drive her crazy, let alone his full-scale freak-outs when things get really bad.  She loves him, but Kendra resents the way that everything in their family revolves around Grayson's illness.  But moreover, Kendra doesn't need anything more to stress her out right now:  her efforts to maintain a perfect world for herself are coming brilliantly unhinged.  Now, on the verge of being suspended from school, she has a freak out of her own and kidnaps her brother on a road trip to California.  It's a crazy trip that only a perfectionist and her anxious compulsive brother could have.

It's Rain Man for the YA crowd, but with more pathos and grit.  As a story, it's fairly typical road trip stuff (some misadventures, the mandatory side trip, and a wind-down at the end), but the characters make it come alive. I found Kendra to be a bit of a pill -- the idea that she ever thought the idea of fleeing across the country was a good one defies belief, so that when she later on comes to "realize" her mistake, I cringed.  But beyond the sheer implausibility of her character, I liked the rest of it.  Grayson is an interesting character by himself (far more self-aware and assertive than we usually presume of the mentally-ill) and the rapport that he has with his sister is authentic and enticing.

My Life Next Door, by Huntley Fitzpatrick

Ever since the Garretts moved in next door, Samantha has been fascinated with them.  They are the polar opposite of her own family:  anarchic, disordered, loud, and chaotic.  While Sam's mother kept a tight lid on Sam and her sister and everything had its place, Mrs Garrett and her noisy brood of eight children seemed to run wild.  Now that Sam is older, her interest has become focused on Jase, one of the older Garrett boys and nearly the same age as her.  Of course, a romance blooms, but with Sam's mother's open disapproval of the family, Sam finds herself hiding the relationship from her family.

That would have made a nice and unremarkable romantic storyline (boy and girl from opposite families find love and overcome the objections of their families), but Fitzpatrick kicks the story up a notch with an out-of-nowhere plot twist that raises the stakes dramatically.  By the end, Sam has to make some difficult decisions about where her loyalties lie and what really matters.  This last-minute twist adds some intensity but doesn't really add to the story in the end, becoming a distraction from the conclusion towards which we were heading anyways.

The meandering and unfortunate plot detour aside, I enjoyed the characters.  Jase and Sam had authentic voices (emotional, but not dumb) and were generally sympathetic.  I found them a bit precocious in their ability to maneuver amidst the Garrett larvae (I'd believe that Jase would have that talent -- having grown up with them -- but Sam comes out and says that she has little-to-no experience with smalls, so the adeptness with which she handles Jase's younger siblings defies belief), but it's cute that they do have these skills.  And the interactions with the littler kids add humor and pathos to the story.  As for the adults, they have flaws but come through in the end in a way that fulfills the YA lit need for kids to be on top, but without sacrificing the reality that grownups are not without problem solving skills of their own.

Jumping the Scratch, by Sarah Weeks

After Jamie's aunt suffers an industrial accident that damages her short-term memory (essentially, preventing her from remembering anything that has happened since the accident), Jamie and his mother move in to take care of her.  This happens at around the same time that Jamie's cat dies and his father leaves them, so Jamie has gone through a lot and he is is very lonely.

Despite that, Jamie resists the attempts of a girl in his neighborhood to befriend him.  She's a bit strange and insists that she can hypnotize him.  While an odd statement, Jamie is curious:  could hypnosis help his aunt regain her memory? Secretly, he is actually hoping that her tricks might help him forget an even worse thing which has happened to him.

The story (and how it ends) is never really in doubt and most readers will have figured it out long before it ends.  However, that doesn't detract from a story that is fun and sweet.  The characters are memorable and Weeks keeps the story short and spare.  The gentleness makes the story suitable for younger readers, but it is far from childish and older readers will enjoy it as well.

Monument 14, by Emmy Laybourne

On their way to school one normal day, the Apocalypse dawns.  It starts as violent hail and expands to earthquakes.  A chemical weapons accident kills some and turns others into homicidal maniacs.  In the midst of this chaos, fourteen children find themselves secured (imprisoned, in fact) inside a superstore.  They have food and supplies to last them for months, but no adults to help them, and little idea of how they will survive.

With obvious tribute to Lord of the Flies, the twists and turns of this surprising and entertaining book keep up a high level of energy.  There are numerous implausibilities (most notably the premise of the particular Armageddon proposed by the story), but the characters are interesting and distinct enough to follow.  Unfortunately, the central figure Dean is actually the least interesting of the bunch.  But the others have merit and with so many characters, the reader never gets stuck with any one of them for very long.  I did not care for the ending (which was rushed and more of a last-minute attempt to generate a cliff-hanger for the sequel), but the story had a lot going for it.  Once Laybourne gets this series out of her system (I try to avoid series books like the plague that they are!), I look forward to reading her future work.

Take A Bow, by Elizabeth Eulberg

Talented kids enter the High School for the (Creative and) Performing Arts in New York City.  Each one is slightly different and over the course of their four years in school, they love and live and discover the important truths that will help them succeed in life.  Yes, if you're my age, you saw the movie version of this.  If you're a bit younger, you might remember the TV series.  But if you're a teen now, you have this book (one of the great joys of YA is that there is no institutional memory so even a seminal film like Fame can be forgotten).

In this take on the story, we focus on the kids' final year and have only four characters:  driven but obnoxious Sophie who is going to succeed whatever the costs; sweet talented Emme who sits in Sophie's shadow;  Carter, the child actor superstar who is fleeing his fame to have a "normal" life in high school; and Ethan, the dark brooding bad boy with issues but a soft spot for Emme.  Very quickly, Sophie establishes herself as an evil bitch and the reader spends the rest of the book just waiting for justice to lower an axe on her.  Famous boy Carter doesn't really have any issues that can't be resolved with some conversation.  So, that leaves us with the starcrossed lovers of Emme and Ethan.  By the last fifty pages, every character in the book (along with the readers) are basically shouting at the pair to just get over it and shag each other!  In sum, not much of a plot, but it keeps moving and is oddly enticing enough to make you want to finish.

There are some nice stylistic twists (Carter always speaks in script, as a way of hitting us over the head with a clue-by-four that he sees his entire life as a performance) and Sophie is consistently loathsome, making it easy for us to hate her.  This isn't a book that makes you think.  Just some good escape literature.


[Full disclosure:  I received a free review copy of this book from Scholastic/Point and will be donating my copy to our local public library after I have finished with it]

Zombies vs Unicorns, eds Justine Larbalestier and Holly Black

Definitely one of the more unique anthologies (with one of the more catchier recent titles to boot!).  This is a collection of short stories devoted to either zombies or unicorns.  Ostensibly, the purpose is to allow Larbalestier and Black to debate which creature makes a better protagonist.  To prove their point, they've enlisted the help of some high-power YA talent, including Meg Cabot, Libba Bray, Kathleen Duey, Garth Nix, Scott Westerfeld, and Maureen Johnson.

The stories range widely, but most of them are quite dark, which means that the zombie stories generally come across better.  Modern YA writers are apparently more comfortable with brain-eating zombies than with unicorns.  The best zombie stories in this case came from Carrie Ryan (a complex story of a Carribean island's attempt to survive), Alaya Dawn Johnson (a homo-erotic view of the undead), and Libba Bray (imagining prom night amongst the survivors).  Most of the unicorn authors re-imagined unicorns as mean and nasty, and most of the stories dragged a bit.  The notable exceptions were Meg Cabot's satire (despite its gratuitous mention of the SCA) in which a rainbow-farting unicorn rights all wrongs at a birthday party and Kathleen Duey's melancholy look at the perils of immortality.  While mentioned, the obvious subject of virginity doesn't feature as much as one would expect.

Most of all, I was disappointed that there was no story with zombies taking on unicorns directly (which I assumed from the title and the cover was the original intent).  I was hoping to see whose powers were stronger:  flesh-rotting zombies or health-restoring unicorns?  Now that would have been a cool story!

It's Our Prom (So Deal With It), by Julie Anne Peters

Azure has always considered proms to be totally bogus.  You have to be outrageously rich (and straight) to go to them, so only the super popular kids bother to show up.  When the principal asks her to form an alternative prom, by serving on the prom committee, she signs on with reluctance.  The opportunity to actually make something different is simply too enticing.

Needing help, she enlists her friend Luke.  He's busy staging a musical drama based on his coming out story ("Closets are for Mothballs"), which is slated to premier days before the prom.  Luke and Azure take turns (in alternating chapters) telling of their struggle to take control of the conventions of proms and make theirs more inclusive.

The story is a bit convoluted (and far more than just a story of staging an unconventional prom and play).  There's a love triangle of sorts, some familial struggle with sexual identity, a little school politics, and a very silly conclusion.  The book has got heart and Peters has certainly made another stride into the territory of books about LGBT characters who are incidental (rather than having the story be solely about their identity).  However, this particular story is so random and unstructured, and the ending so completely silly (and half-baked) that the book never came together for me.  The characters, including Azure and Luke, are underdeveloped and two-dimensional.  And there's not much point to the story beyond imagining how much fun kids could have at a prom that featured poetry slams and drag queens.

Prairie Evers, by Ellen Airgood

In her first year living in New Paltz (that's Hudson Valley area, for the uninitiated), Carolina-native Prairie has a lot of adjustments to make:  from managing without her grandmother (who's decided to return back to North Carolina shortly after they all move up) to going to school (after years of being homeschooled).  In that first year of changes, there are also plenty of totally new things, ranging from learning how to raise chickens to having her first real best friend.  There are even a few challenges both minor (some poultry trouble at school) and major (her friend Ivy dealing with a difficult home situation).  The book recounts these events.

When I asked the girl who introduced me to this book what it was about, she gave me a blank look.  I now understand why:  it's not really about anything.  There's plenty of activity, but no real plot beyond "this is how I survived my first year up north without my Grammy!" More problematic than the lack of a storyline is the lack of development in the characters.  It's a pleasant enough story, but rather dull.

The Girl in the Park, by Mariah Fredericks

Once upon a time, Rain and Wendy were best friends.  Wendy was the brash and fearless one who always urged the shy and more restrained Rain to seize the day ("go for it, tigress!").  Rain never could quite manage it, but after Wendy is killed in a brutal assault in Central Park, Rain wants to figure out why it happened and she launches her own private investigation.

There are plenty of suspects (being brash and fearless can earn you plenty of enemies!) and early evidence points to the bad boy at school with whom Wendy had a fling.  But as Rain digs deeper, she discovers some dark secrets about her school, her friends, and herself.

It's a nicely-paced whodunnit, with a bright and interesting girl solving the murder.  I found myself a few pages ahead of the characters in figuring the whole thing out, but that is mostly because the story follows the predictable conventions of a classic mystery novel (i.e., just think of who's getting a lot of attention in the story but is not a current suspect).  However, while the story follows conventions, I enjoyed Rain's intelligent insights on her peers, as well as her weaknesses (mostly adolescent insecurity) that made her a bit more vulnerable than Miss Marple.

The True Confessions of Charlotte Doyle, by Avi

Scholastic has just re-released this with a new cover and a cheap price, and sent me a reviewer's copy to read...

Charlotte Doyle is looking forward to her trip across the Atlantic aboard the Seahawk.  But when the families with whom she is supposed to be traveling fail to appear, and members of the crew attempt to discourage her from showing up, she regrets the decision.  But already out at sea, it is too late!

Between storms, stowaways, and seasickness, Charlotte has a lot with which to deal.  However, it gets worse: the crew is mutinous and the captain is unhinged and cruel.  Before long, young innocent Charlotte finds herself thrust into the middle of plots and counterplots, and ends up accused of murder!

It's a vivid and exciting adventure on the high seas and a modern classic tale that has won its fair share of accolades and prizes.  It works, I think, because it is a good adventure with plenty of action, but features a girl, so draws in the girls as well as the boys.  There's great technical detail, so fans of naval adventures have plenty to bite into.  And it works on a human level as Charlotte has a heart and a strong moral core to make her an excellent heroine.  It's not much of a book for a moral or lesson, but you don't read books like this to learn about human nature.  Unfortunately, you do read books like this to be subjected to twenty course lesson plans in language arts classes (!), so if you are a grown up, enjoy the book as a free person!

Lucky for Good, by Susan Patron

Yet more about the inhabitants of Hard Pan in this final installment of Susan Patron's Lucky trilogy.  This time, the story centers around Brigitte's need to bring her cafe up to code, Miles's reunion with her mother (and adapting to having a mother again), and Lucky learning more about her family and coming to terms with her father's decision to abandon her.  As in the other two novels, the style remains plain enough for younger readers, but honest enough to resonate with grownups.

At times, the unstructured format of the story makes it hard to follow and there is a frustrating way for seemingly important threads to become neglected, but the overall flavor is so unique and charming that it is easy to overlook the flaws.  Even the folksy lifestyle of Hard Pan is applied lightly -- just enough to be enjoyable, providing us with a great collection of memorable characters, without becoming cloying or condescending.

Lyddie, by Katherine Paterson

In the 1840s in Vermont, Lyddie Worthen and her brother struggle to survive on their own.  Their father has gone West years ago and mother has fallen under the sway of an End Times preacher and given up on living.  When the family's debts reach the point that they can no longer keep the farm, the two children are sent to work:  Lyddie's brother to the mill and Lyddie herself to be a housekeeper.  Lyddie works hard but can't earn enough money to make any headway on repaying the debts.  So, when she learns of better opportunities in Lowell MA, working in the wool mills, she decides to strike out to seek her fortune.  It's back-breaking work, but Lyddie welcomes the opportunity to change her life.

Less outstanding for the writing than the extraordinary story it tells, Lyddie is a well-researched historical novel that will give you pause to reflect on how hard life can really be and how we rise to the challenges that we must face. Its lessons about perseverance have a timeless classic quality to them that often lands the book on summer reading lists.  Lyddie's life is harsh, but she accepts it with a level of grace and determination that make her a very inspiring heroine.

Incarnate, by Jodi Meadows

For as long as people in the Range have known, everyone is reincarnated when they die and the number of souls (and bodies) has been remained static.  Everyone, that is, except for Ana.  She's a "new soul" (or, as her mother tells her frequently, a "non soul") and not reincarnated at all.  She is, her mother says, a mistake.

But Ana is not convinced that she is as bad as Mom claims.  And after eighteen years of abuse at her mother's hands, Ana is ready to strike out on her own.  Ana's convinced that the answer lies in Heart, the capital city.  There, she hopes to get some answers about her origins and find out why she is the only one who is not reincarnated from a previous life.  On her way to Heart, she befriends a musician named Sam who becomes her guardian, mentor, and object of affection (although not quite her lover).  Acid-spitting dragons, wraith-like beasts called "sylphs," and Ana's meddlesome and evil mother fight her along the way.

It's an interesting setting and premise, but the story itself is a bit too leaden with adolescent rebellion. Ana's evil sadistic mother is more fantasy than the dragons and the wraiths, and a bit too much attention is spent on her.  I get the appeal to young readers, but the lengths to which Mom goes to get between Ana and Sam are ludicrous and some of the weakest parts of the story.

On a whole, the story starts off strong, but loses focus midway (about the time that Ana and Sam reach the city).  At first, we have the interesting thread of how (after years of emotional abuse) Ana has trouble trusting Sam.  But once the dragons show up, it starts getting weird, and the emotional growth is displaced by shooting and killing.  With a multitude of loose ends, I became painfully aware by the end that there must be a sequel to come (sure enough, due out in January 2013!).

Second Chance Summer, by Morgan Matson

Taylor has always run away when things got tough.  Five years ago, she ran away from Lake Phoenix, from her best friend Lucy, and from her first boyfriend Henry. And she never planned to come back.  But when her father is diagnosed with stage four pancreatic cancer, he insists that the family to return to their old summer home on the Lake for one last summer together.  How are you going to argue with that?

And so, Taylor has to return and face Lucy and Henry again.  The return is difficult and her abandonment is not easily forgiven.  She expected that, but what surprises her is how it rekindles old feelings and makes her reconsider not just the decisions of her past but how her fear continues to control her life.  Her romantic feelings for Henry return and her longing to have Lucy back in her life points out the terrible costs of her tendency to run away.  Eventual forgiveness shows that second chances are actually possible.  The slow decline of her father, meanwhile, places some perspective on all this and how sometimes even a second chance is not enough.

Obviously, the ingredients here are guaranteed to be upsetting.  Between the nostalgia, the longing for lost friendships, and a dying parent, there had better be a Kleenex box nearby when you read this book! And since I do like a book that makes me cry, I'm going to like this one.  However, there are other things going for the book:  Taylor's emotions (and her fears, in particular) are very honest and striking.  The other characters have depth as well.  In a lengthy novel like this, we really get an opportunity to get under the skin of them all and it is an enlightening journey.  (The setting is beautiful, although I'm growing disturbed at the unusual socioeconomic status of the families depicted in these books!  Where do middle class people who can't afford summer homes go to have an amazing summer of memories?).

Still, the storytelling has some rough spots.  Matson has problems pacing the story, clustering events in spots and then having to skip past "a few weeks" or so until events get interesting.  It's understandable, but one wonders if she couldn't have planned the story a bit better to have a less jumpy chronology.  Also, dealing with lost romance and dying father may be too much for one novel.  Surprisingly, it actually works, but for the first half of the book, I felt like there were really two different stories going on.