At the Sign of the Sugared Plum, by Mary Hooper

In 1665, farm girl Hannah comes to London to assist her sister run a sweetmeats shop.  She is excited to live in such a great city and has many dreams of becoming rich and successful in such a place of opportunity.  However, the timing is not fortuitous.  The city has been struck with plague.  At first, the sisters manage to avoid the infection and even develop some clever ways to make a living amid the chaos.  However, as the mortality rates increase, the challenges become more and more severe.

A brief, but ultimately satisfying historical novel that has a lively and sympathetic heroine and which vibrantly reveals life in 17th century London at a very dark time.  Hooper takes her subject fairly seriously, so this story lacks the wit and fun of Karen Cushman's similar books, but it is fascinating to read. This is a great example of what a historical novel can (and should) be -- educational and entertaining -- and did a nice job to launch many other historical novels from Hooper (including a sequel, Petals in the Ashes that I plan to read soon).

Love and Other Perishable Items, by Laura Buzo

 

It's an unusual story about lovers who aren't, not least of all because he's 22 and she's only 15. 

Amelia struggles with understanding what her parents see in each other and why her mother puts up with Dad's chauvinistic behavior.  Everywhere she looks and every thing she reads reinforces her belief that things are just plain wrong and that love is all messed up!  But most confusing of all for her is her unrequited crush on Chris, a co-worker at the grocery store where they both mind registers.

Chris is the harder egg to crack.  He's disillusion about love, his career, and his future.  He's bitter over the recent abandonment by the "perfect" girl he's experienced, school is no longer meaningful, and he's unable to make a living or stick to a plan.  More than anything, he's lonely, and tries to assuage those feelings by chasing after the women at work (paying little mind to Amelia, since she's just a kid!).

Through alternating diary entries, Amelia and Chris tell their stories about trying to figure out what is happening in their lives.  Their inability to find each other is both tragic and natural, given the circumstances, and one mostly comes away with a deep sense that they are both in very different places, but are so lost in themselves that they cannot recognize it.  The story leaves things unresolved, but this isn't really a relationship that any one would want to see consummated anyway!

There is no small creep factor in the age difference between the protagonists.  To Buzo's credit, the story never turns it into an issue.  What works less well is the general lack of a story in the first place.  There is a lot of dialogue in the book, but not much actually happens.  Drunken parties provide most of the decent action, but it doesn't amount to much and we have to spend a lot of time enduring sober banter to get to these pivotal moments.

There's also the question of intended audience.  As a depiction of what an angsty crushing fifteen year-old girl and a driftless 22 year-old young man are like, it is spot on, but what is the point and who would really care about them?  Certainly, a teen would hardly understand what Chris is feeling and an older person would cringe at reading Amelia's naivete.

Meant To Be, by Lauren Merrill

Julia is a hyper-organized, straight-A student who's always followed the rules.  She's got a clear sense of how things are supposed to happen and that includes the certainty that Mark is meant to be her partner for life (even if he doesn't know it yet!).

But while on a school trip to London, Julia is paired up with class clown Jason -- a boy whose chaotic lack of respect for the rules drives her nuts.  But for every obnoxious act he does that annoys her, she finds herself drawn to him...and, well, you know the rest and how it will all turn out, right?

In many ways, this was the perfect book to accompany my own trip to London.  Between the observations about travel and all the name dropping of people and places, there was plenty with which to compare.  What worked less well for me was the story itself.  There isn't much fun in watching a fairly adjusted young woman throw away good sense for bad taste in guys, and make one bad choice after another.  And, as depicted, there isn't much to recommend Jason.  He's vain and conceited and immature to boot!  And, while the appeal of the "bad boy" is obvious, it doesn't make sense for someone as allegedly mature as Julia to fall for him.  This ultimately makes the story pretty dumb.  And, even with the fairly heavy Shakespearean allusions that Merrill is pulling out, the story lacks originality and appeal.

Struck by Lightning, by Chris Colter

Carson Phillips could be described as "majorly cynical" without fear of overstatement.  He invariably has a biting comment to share with his peers about every behavior he observes around him.  He is the quintessential angry young man.  Predictably, this does not endear him to the rest of the student body (not that he really cares!).

His primary ambition is to get accepted at Northwestern University, major in journalism, and end up some day as editor of The New Yorker.  And while it is hard to find anyone to support his dreams (or even understand them), he holds out hope that it won't matter in the end -- he will soar above them all.   However,  when he discovers that his chances of getting accepted at Northwestern will be greatly improved by putting out a literary magazine, he realizes that he need some help to pull it off and he has to find a way to solicit the help of the people he has so thoroughly alienated.

I found this a particularly hard slog.  While Carson's biting social commentary is supposed to be amusing, it's way too cruel and mean spirited.  Perhaps the targets of his disdain deserve what they receive, but without any effort from Colter to demonstrate their worthiness, Carson's abuse just comes across as nasty.  As a result, I really grew to hate Carson's bullying.  This is only partly mediated by the times when Carson himself realizes that he's overstepped (more so, because the realization never seems to effect a change in his behavior!).  Colter himself seems to have a mean streak of his own in this book, leading up to a particularly bleak and unsatisfying conclusion, which turns the book's title into a sick joke.

Ferocity Summer, by Alissa Grosso

In the summer between their junior and senior years, Scilla and her best friend Willow are aimlessly trying to escape their lives. There is ample reason -- they have been implicated in an accidental homicide.  But rather than lay low as their case goes to trial, they indulge in excessive alcohol and drug consumption to mask their feelings of guilt.  The book's title meanwhile is a reference to a new drug called Ferocity that is making the rounds on the party scene.  It's a nasty thing, leaving about half of its users as permanent vegetables.  Still, given the cluelessness of the kids in this story, they hardly need any help!

I'm a bit conflicted about the book.  The shallow characters and their self-centric moaning and groaning gets old pretty quick, and this is not a group with whom I found much to empathize.  Yes, eventually, redemption will be achieved, but by the time it came about, I simply didn't care.  It simply isn't interesting to read about stupid people screwing up their lives.

On the other hand, Grosso has created an interesting (and rather subtly dystopian) world -- just slightly different from our own -- to use as a setting.  A great example of this is the Ferocity drug which mirrors (but also exaggerates) the drugs of today.  Overall, the setting is realistic, but with twists that make for an interesting read.  This, in spite of my distaste for the characters!

The Vanishing Game, by Kate Kae Myers

A few weeks after her twin brother Jack is killed in a car accident, Jocelyn receives a letter from "Jason December." This comes as a shock because it was a secret code name that Jack used while he was alive.  Only Jocelyn and a mutual friend (Noah) know about it.  Could Jack still be alive?  Jocelyn must find out. Armed with this piece of evidence, she heads to the town of Watertown and to Searle House, the foster home where she and Jack were raised (and where they met Noah).

Searle House is not a place of happy memories and Jocelyn's search forces her to go through those painful memories, looking up people that she would just as soon have forgotten.  Teaming up with Noah, the two of them look up their old compatriots and enemies, following clues that Jack has left for them.  But other people are interested in their search and things quickly grow very dangerous.

The result is a very strange story that never quite gelled for me.  Motivations are jumbled and confusing.  Even in the end, when you hoped it would all get wrapped up, elements of the story (partly supernatural, partly psychological, and party realistic) failed to add up or make sense.  The storyline itself is chaotic and races in several directions at once. Being a nostalgia trip, flashbacks are to be expected, but they are very distracting and break up the flow of the story.  It's a hard read and the ending is abrupt and not tied enough to the rest of the book.  Foreshadowing is virtually non-existent.

On the positive, the story is interspersed with some great logic puzzles and there can be a lot of fun in putting down the book to take a shot at solving them before the characters do.  There isn't always enough information to work them, but it's fun to try.

Fall From Grace, by Charles Benoit

Sawyer spends much of his time being the subject of other people's plans.  His parents know where he'll go to college and what he'll major in.  His girlfriend has figured out his social (and even his romantic!) calendar for both of them.  And Sawyer just inertly follows the plans.  It's not that he lacks in thoughts and ideas of his own, but he's just learned that it is too difficult to fight the flow.  He's bored and frustrated, but has no idea how to break free and follow his own plans.

Enter Grace, a girl from a neighboring high school.  She's got plans as well, but hers are decidedly different from any that Sawyer has seen before.  She likes to steal things.  The first time they meet, at a Model UN conference, she talks him into stealing documents from the other teams.  The novelty and the taboo-breaking are intoxicating to Sawyer and he is hooked.  From there, her plans move on to much bigger things.  Sawyer loves the excitement and the idea of doing something dangerous, and being someone that his parents and girlfriend would never approve of.  But these little rebellions come with a cost.

The really interesting question, and one which I wish the author has had Sawyer explore is whether he's really breaking free or just finding another person's plans to fall behind?  Unfortunately, it isn't really a question that the book attempts to answer.  Instead, this is largely an action story -- and a slow one at that, as sawyer ends up pretty much where he started.  The drama (tensions with parents, with girlfriend, and even with Grace) are largely tossed out in the end.  It's entertaining, but not very edifying.

The Secret Sisterhood of Heartbreakers, by Lynn Weingarten

On the first day of school, Lucy pledges herself to her boyfriend Alex whom she hasn't seen all summer.  But it doesn't go well.  Instead of bringing them together, he announces that he wants to break up.  Heartbroken, Lucy doesn't know what to do.  But, while grieving, she is approached by a girl with an unusual proposition:  learn special magic that will heal her broken heart by joining a secret sisterhood of conjurers.  All she has to do is get another boy to fall in love with her in the next seven days and then dump him.  His tears will form the core ingredient in a potion that will fix everything!

It's an odd premise and a story that doesn't really seem to know what its purpose is.  Is it trying to be a fantasy book about spells and supernatural powers?  Is it a realistic tale about the uselessness of fantasy and the greater importance of developing self-esteem?  The book could have worked either way (although I'll admit that I was rooting for the latter direction) but instead Weingarten carves out an uneasy compromise between being a story about magic with occasional intercessions from the real world and the reality checks of maturity.  The problem is that this muddies the message.  Is it more important to love yourself or to develop spells and potions with which to control boys and make them love you?  The book would have us believe that both are equally important, which seems like a pretty useless solution. The characters themselves were not very important either, since one is never really sure what each person's motives are (i.e., how much comes from within and how much is a response to all the charms and magic floating around).  In sum, it's a story that seems too sober to be fantasy and too fantastical to be a coming-of-age romance.

When You Open Your Eyes, by Celeste Conway

In the exotic setting of the expatriot community of Buenos Aires, Tessa and her friends live fun, but dangerous lives of parties in seedy tango bars, chauffeurs, and drugs and alcohol.  While Tessa thinks she knows what she is doing, she finds herself head over heels infatuated with a smoldering and disturbed French boy named Lucien.  She's the daughter of the legal attache to the US Embassy and he's the son of the cultural attache of the French Embassy.  Together, they make beautiful art and steamier romance.  But Lucien is a troubled young man and his needs may be a bit too much for Tessa to cope with.

As anyone who's ever tried to "help" a friend who really needed professional help knows, it's easy to fall into the trap of going from being a good friend to being in too deep.  And when love and lust are involved (never mind throwing in an exotic locale), it's easy to get sucked in.  Conway does a good job of showing that trap slowly forming and of showing how easy it is for Tess to get trapped.  She also does an amazing job with the setting, depicting with great detail what life in Argentina is like for an expatriot teen.  What works less well for me is the story itself, which heads in one particular direction for the first 264 pages, but shifts to a completely different trajectory in the last 40 or so.  The split is so dramatic that it is basically like reading a different book.  I felt cheated out of my "original" story.  It's certainly foreshadowed so I can't complain that it came from nowhere, but the complete abandonment of the central characters and core plot elements makes the ending feel orphaned.

Me, and Earl, and the Dying Girl, by Jesse Andrews

The "me" of the title is Greg Gaines, an angry neurotic Jewish kid with self-loathing issues (think Eminem meets an Annie Hall-era Woody Allen).  Greg has made a committed effort to be a casual acquaintance of everyone at school without allowing himself to be labeled as part of any one group.  By being stand-offish, he avoids being labeled (positively or negatively).

Earl is Greg's friend-of-sorts.  Angry in his own way and generally hostile to everyone around him, Earl's in-your-face attitude make a perfect foil for Greg's low-profile.  What brings them together is a love for art films and their own collaborations creating the world's worst remakes (which Greg also reviews for our edification).  These are films that aim to rival Werner Herzog, but (in their own words) "suck donkey dick."

The dying girl is Rachel, with whom Greg has been only passively acquainted through the years.  But when she is diagnosed with leukemia, Greg and Earl find themselves drawn into her confidence.  Much to Greg's surprise, it turns out she loves Greg's humor and Greg and Earl's home movies.

What develops isn't heart-warming (or especially deep).  As Greg constantly reminds us, he isn't the type of guy that would fall into that particular rut.  Instead, we get a story that portrays these three angry teens in a fairly honest fashion, showing how they relate to each other and develop an unexpected alliance together.

An unfair comparison for this novel would be with John Green's Fault in Our Stars.  Me, and Earl, and the Dying Girl is neither as nuanced nor as funny as John Green's witty look at pediatric oncology.  However, this story does have its charms.  While Greg and Earl's lewd banter can get old and tired, the riff has an unrelenting honesty to it.  Andrews rigorously and aggressively avoids sentimentality, even as he (through Greg's voice) acknowledges (and even mocks) how much the reader wants an easy out.  At times, this works and keeps the readers on their toes, but I'm a sucker for an emotional uplift and the unrelenting dreariness of this tale became oppressive.  The lack of payoff is realistic and authentic, but aesthetically unappealing to me.

The Princesses of Iowa, by M. Molly Backes

[Note:  I've been on the road for the past two weeks, so haven't had an opportunity to post my reviews, but I have been reading so I'll try to catch up here over the next couple of days]

After Paige is involved in a car accident, her image-conscious mother decides to ship her off to Paris until things calm down, in order to preserve Paige's shot at being elected Homecoming Queen.  This leaves behind her best friend Lydia injured and other friend Nikki grief-stricken, without any explanation.  Returning home several months later, Paige finds her friends distant and changed, and a general sense that she will not be allowed to mend fences with them.  Her boyfriend now devotes all his attention to Lydia who (as everyone reminds Paige) is "going through a difficult time." What about Paige?  Paris wasn't exactly a joy ride and she misses her friends!  Senior year is a turning out a far cry from the dreams that the three girls had when they were growing up.

To the rescue comes a creative writing class that Paige is taking at school.  Taught by a young grad student, she is encouraged to channel her anger and frustration and "use it" to write.  In the process, she discovers new friends and explores new options, opening herself to the idea that the world may mean a lot more than being a "princess." Paige's mother, still obsessed with the old dream, continues to push Paige in a direction that she is no longer certain she wants to go.

A fairly lengthy book, which felt artificially drawn out by dialogues that never quite finish.  When you can pinpoint a hundred-odd pages that could have been eliminated by simply completing a sentence, you know the story's in trouble.  Tighter would have been better.  Or maybe it's simply the characters that drove me nuts.  Paige didn't really show much sign of being nice until about page 350.  That's a long time to hold out hope for her redemption!  And her peers were far worse.  Basically, these weren't people I wanted to get to know (in some cases, they were people I actively wanted to run away from!).  So, a story that dragged on and characters that didn't appeal basically defeated some strong writing -- in sum, a beautifully depicted world that I didn't want to get to know.

Speechless, by Hannah Harrington

Chelsea likes to have the dirt on folks and she loves good gossip.  That is, until she catches Noah and another guy in flagrante delicto in a bedroom at a party. The news is so juicy that, without even thinking, she blabs about the whole thing to everyone she sees.  But what seems like so much fun takes a sinister turn when Noah is beaten into a coma by two boys that Chelsea told.  Wracked by guilt, she turns them in to the police and her troubles begin.

Labeled a snitch, Chelsea is shunned by her classmates.  She decides that the root of her troubles lie in her inability to keep her mouth shut, so she takes a "vow of silence" and refuses to speak aloud.  Without the ability to speak (and defend herself), Chelsea begins to notice things about herself and her peers that she never did before.  And in that silence, she gains understanding, new friends, and an opportunity at a new life.

As a Quaker, I naturally love a story about the power of silence.  For a normal teenager, it must seem like a horrendous ordeal, but I think Chelsea shows us quite well what it can do.  In fairness, however, she is actually hardly ever silent since she is the narrator of the story.  Instead, we have to imagine what it must be like for her friends and family who don't benefit from her inner dialogue as we do.

The story itself is not all that remarkable.  The plot is predictable (self-centered girl learns to care about others and conquers her enemies with kindness), but it is of course a winner.  You can't not root for Chelsea as the bad guys keep getting in shots -- you want revenge just as much as she does.  So, you flip the pages in anticipation of the payback.  Other parts are less compelling.  The romance is warm, but nothing terribly exciting (which is surprising for a Teen Harlequin novel).  The repartee at the workplace (a diner) is meant to be interesting but also feels a bit like we're going through the motions.  Even the bullies and the clueless teachers seem lackluster.   The energy simply isn't there.  Readable, but not surprising.

Tangerine, by Edward Bloor

Paul Fisher may be legally blind, but he notices a lot of things around him. He sees the way that the ospreys steal the koi out of the artificial lakes (not an alligator or a human thief as the adults suppose).  He sees the way that his father obsesses over older brother Erik's football successes (while ignoring Paul's soccer prowess).  He sees the tensions between the rich kids in Lake Windsor Downs and the farmers' children in Tangerine.  Yet, he doesn't seem to remember how he lost his vision (he's told it was due to staring at a solar eclipse, but he vaguely recalls a different series of events).

And with this knowledge, Paul is thrown by a series of events onto the soccer team at Tangerine middle school, a group of kids so unlike Paul that they have a lesson or two to teach him - about the game and his life.  The result is a thrilling sports novel and an enlightening story about loyalty and honesty.  Some fun facts about citrus farming are an added bonus.

For a book that is definitely targeted at boys, this is an odd pick for me.  But I've always said that what draws me to a good read is the characters and the message.  Bloor has written a fascinating book that combines an appealing story about awkward friendship with some great social commentary.  Paul is a great character, with some geekiness and yet a clear sense of social justice and the strength to stand up for the right thing (even when the adults around him won't do so).  These are the ingredients for building a classic that his endured for multiple reprintings.  It's amazing to think that this was Bloor's first novel.

Burn for Burn, by Jenny Han and Siobhan Vivian

Liliya, Kat, and Mary have all suffered injustices.  In each case, the source of their suffering is caused by the cruelty of a specific person.  And when chance brings the girls together and allows them to compare notes, they discover a mutual desire for revenge.  So, while the girls have nothing in common beyond that wish, they bond nonetheless.  And along the way to realizing their rather twisted dreams, they come to understand each other and become unlikely allies (if not friends).

Team-written novels are usually painful ego-stroking exercises, best left in rough draft at a writers' retreat.  Their sole source of entertainment is watching the authors try to trip each other up (see, for example, anything written with David Levithan).  Thus, it is notable how well this one actually works.  I recognize all the beach town details as Han's milieu and the insights on clique psychology are Vivian's strength, but the writing is stylistically seamless and the reader doesn't trip over abrupt shifts from one author to the other.

The characters are quite interesting (as both Han and Vivian excel at building strong complex young heroines).  These are dark people and it takes quite a bit to make ostensibly mean girls into interesting (and even sympathetic) characters, but the book largely succeeds.  Liliya, torn between her loyalty to her best friend Rennie and simultaneously helping Kat exact revenge against Rennie has particularly complex motivations.  All three girls waver a bit on their convictions as they find that their commitment to striking back is not necessarily iron-clad.

The story itself is less smooth, and this is ultimately what defeats the tale.  In all the effort to collaborate, Han and Vivian can't quite figure out where they want the story to go.  And there are tantalizing subplots (including one that suggests supernatural forces at play) that never get developed.  The ending is particularly wimpy and seemed more like the authors just got tired of the exercise and threw in the towel.



Final Note:  There is absolutely NOTHING in this book that says "trilogy" (aside from the atrocious ending), so the recent announcement that this is part one of the "Burn for Burn Trilogy" is obviously a cynical post-publication marketing ploy.  The story doesn't have enough steam to justify two more books, so I won't hold my breath for the rest of the series.  I wish Han and Vivian would both focus on putting out good books instead of trying to cash in on the trilogy craze!

Openly Straight, by Bill Konigsberg

Rafe has been out of the closet for years.  The kids at school in Boulder know about him, his parents are super supportive, and his best friend (a girl named Claire Olivia) totally has his back.  But when Rafe transfers to an all-boys boarding school in New England, he decides he wants to try something different.  Instead of being out and proud, he'll keep his sexuality to himself.  After years of being the "gay" kid at school, Rafe wants to experience being "normal." He's tired of having his sexuality define who he is to others.

At first, the plan works great.  Rafe goes out for sports and becomes "one of the guys" hanging with a group of jocks whom Rafe can't imagine being so close with back home.  But things get complicated as Rafe tries to get Claire Olivia and his parents to understand why he's back in the closet.  And as Rafe's attempts to evade the question of his sexual orientation at his new school become white lies and the white lies become outright deception, Rafe discovers that he's in a trap (of his own making).

Surprisingly interesting and effective.  Decent gay literature is hard to come by and a book that goes far beyond the whole coming-out scenario to explore what being "gay" really means when you are a teen are rarer.  Konigsberg writes well with a good ear for boys.  The characters are strong and interesting.  And while placing the story at an all-boys boarding school won't win any prizes for originality, the story itself is fresh.

[Disclosure:  I received an advance copy of this book from the publisher, but no other compensation.  I am donating my copy to the Middleton Public Library after I finish with it]

Gorgeous, by Paul Rudnick

After Becky Randle's mother dies, she receives a surprise message to contact Tom Kelly (the world's preeminent fashion designer).  It appears that, despite their trailer park existence, Mom had a famous life before Becky was born.

Tom Kelly invites Becky to New York with an even more extraordinary invitation:  an offer to transform her into the Most Beautiful Woman in the World with an mysterious dose of magic.  Famous stars and glitzy life awaits Becky as her supernatural looks give her access to a world she could never have imagined.  From co-staring in a blockbuster action pic with heartthrob Jate Mallow to meeting Crown Prince Gregory of England, nothing is beyond her reach.  But she knows that all this fame is based upon her external appearance (and an appearance which itself is achieved through deception).  What everyone would think if they knew the true Becky Randle?

The story is not all that special -- a sweet story about finding your inner beauty wrapped in a  coating of magic and a huge dollop of outrageous romantic fantasy.  The charm of the book is really in the writing.  Rudnick is a would-be Faulkner, easily spinning out sentences that fill half a page, but which sound much more like the verbal diarrhea of a ninth-grader than a southern literary giant.  A cornucopia of cultural references and social satire are buried in these long-winded sentences and they deserve at least re-read or two.  Still, it can all get a bit too precious and even clever writing can't save a story that is more wishful and silly than meaningful.


[Disclosure:  I received a free advance copy of the book to review, but will be donating it to the Public Library.  I received no other compensation for this review.]

Not That Kind of Girl, by Siobhan Vivian

Natalie has learned a lot in her first three years of high school.  She's seen the way that when boys and girls get into trouble, it's the girl who gets all the blame.  Her best friend Autumn got humiliated that way in freshman year and she still deals with the shame of it!  If Natalie had her way, the girls would receive a special orientation session on watching your reputation.

Natalie is a strong-minded young woman, with good grades and the esteem of principal and her teachers.  She even wins the position of class president -- one of only nine girls to do so at her school.  Two things threaten her position:  the antics of a girl in the freshman class who challenges Natalie's notions of propriety and a whirlwind romance with a guy on the football team which Natalie must keep secret from the school at all costs to prevent the exact type of scandal from which she wants to protects other girls.

It's a strikingly insightful book about agency and self-identity.  On a broad stage, Vivian brings in the major debate between feminists who argue that women need to seize control of their sexuality and others who argue that women cannot "play the game with the boys" in a world that is so stacked towards patriarchy.  She then pitches the conflict in terms that young readers will understand -- the struggle between desire and reputation, and the anger and frustration that that struggle creates in the minds of young women.  Whether it's young Spencer's attempts to control the boys with her sexuality or Natalie's grasping for a safe space to experience sexual pleasure, it's powerful stuff and should give most readers food for thought.  Obviously girls will relate more readily to the material, but boys could stand reading it as well.

Natalie is a great character -- she's strong-minded, independent, and well-spoken.  Her positions make sense and are laudable -- it is easy to identify with her and even admire her.  So, watching her struggle and make mistakes is hard for the reader, even as it feels authentic and plausible.  There is that strong sense (maybe even a degree of horror at the realization) that we would do the same things in her position.  The ending (and ultimate resolution of Natalie's issues) comes on a bit too quickly and easily, but the point has been well-made by then:  when in the business of telling yourself "who you are" and "who you are not," you need to consider what you are trying to achieve.  Does labeling yourself and others bring you comfort or simply stress you out?  Siobhan Vivian's novel begs the reader to figure it out for themselves.

Au Revoir, Crazy European Chick, by Joe Schreiber

In his senior year, Peter's family decides to host a Lithuanian exchange student named Gobi.  They knew it would be an interesting cultural experience, but they didn't quite count on what they got.  Gobi turns out to be a wallflower in baggy clothes who is painfully shy.  During the nine months she stays with them, she barely communicates, makes no friends, and by the end Peter awkwardly avoids being around her.  So, when Peter's parents decide that Peter should take Gobi to the prom, Peter objects.  But Peter has always been cowed by his parent's demands and soon enough Peter and Gobi are on their way to the Prom.

As they are heading to the Prom, Gobi promises Peter that, before the night is over, he'll understand her a lot better than he does now.  Peter doesn't know how to take that statement or what it means.  But when Gobi pulls out a gun and leads Peter on a nerve-wracking marathon across New York City knocking off bad guys, Peter realizes that his initial perceptions of her have all missed their mark!

Fast and fun, there's nothing like a genre-defying book!  If we're going to search for a mash-up, this is probably Risky Business's Joel meets La Femme Nikita (although I like the review that called it "Nick and Norah's Infinite Hit List").  Despite the over-the-top action, there's a surprising amount of depth to Peter and Gobi and a nice chemistry between them (although Gobi is primarily relegated to Schwarzenegger-ish monotone).  And, like a good action movie, there's humor to drive the story along.  I enjoyed the combination of a coming-of-age story with serious gun play and fast car chases.

And then there's the central conceit of the story: the way that each chapter is introduced with a real-life college application essay question, which is then answered in the chapter itself.  This works surprisingly well (and also reminded me a bit of Risky Business).

Freshman Year & Other Unnatural Disasters, by Meredith Zeitlin

When Kelsey starts ninth grade, she's committed to the idea that this is the year that she is finally going to step out.  She has her eyes on Jordan, a star on the boy's soccer team, and she figures she'll get him to notice her by doing well on the girl's team.  But this plan (and most of her other ones) go astray (sometimes spectacularly) as she struggles through her first year of high school.  Good friends, however, provide support as she learns many life lessons.

It's a readable, but unremarkable story -- basically, a series of familiar tropes ranging from family (mother-daughter conflict, obnoxious younger sister, and clueless father) to peers (disappointing crushes, unexpected knights in shining armor, etc.).  This is not necessarily bad, but it makes the book painfully predictable.  I understand the appeal, but did we really need yet another example of the genre?

This Is Not A Test, by Courtney Summers

Six teens get trapped at their high school when the Zombie Apocalypse starts.  Even before the kids have managed to secure the entrances and fortify their perimeter, they are sniping at each other.  Partially, it's baggage from the past, but several key events (revealed slowly over the course of the book) have taken place in the week since the world started going crazy and before the story proper begins.  The result is a story more like Lord of the Flies than The Evil Dead.

The central character, Sloane, is initially the most unstable.  She's angry at her sister for running away from their abusive father six months before.  Left on her own to face a hellish homelife, Sloane grew suicidal (even before people around her started getting killed).  It is ironic then that, as the hopelessness of the situation grows, it is Sloane who develops survival instincts.

It's a decent book that suffers from trying to do too much.  As a coming-of-age story about domestic abuse, sibling separation, and even interpersonal relations in the hallways of Cortege High, the novel works.  Even as a zombie adventure story, it works pretty well (plenty of adventure and dramatic events).  But combined together, the pace fluctuates too much.  The dialogue seems whiny and drags on too long.  The zombie action feels like a story from an entirely separate book.  It is jarring mash-up.