The Reluctant Journal of Henry K. Larsen, by Susin Nielsen

As Henry starts at a new school, he's worried about making a good strong first impression.  He's reminded of the trouble his older brother got into when he didn't do so and he ended up being cruelly bulled.  That took a tragic turn last year when his brother brought a rifle into school and shot the bully, before turning the gun on himself.

Since that tragedy, Henry's family has fallen apart.  Mom has moved back in with her parents and been in and out of institutions.  Dad and Henry have moved to a new town and are struggling to rebuild their lives, come to grips with grief and anger, and keep their past a secret.  Why couldn't life be more like the professional wrestling matches that Henry loves -- where good and evil are well-defined and the good guys usually come out on top in the end?

In all, a pretty sweet book for a story that ought to be difficult and traumatic to tell.  It ends on a saccharine sweet note (which is probably demanded by the young target audience of the book), but Nielsen is restrained and avoids tying too many things up.  This leads me to the book's strongest suit:  the complexity of the characters.  From the non-romance of Henry and his classmate Alberta, to the strained relationship of his parents, the awkwardness of Henry and his best friend Farley, and the great lightening impact of the neighbors bickering, there are some wonderful characters and great interactions.  It's quirky, but very endearing.

Allegra, by Shelley Hrdlitschka

Allegra is the daughter of two professional musicians and, while musically talented, she longs to become a dancer.  When she enrolls at an arts high school, she even tries to place out of music theory.  However, the teacher, Mr. Rocchelli, won't let her withdraw.  He's young and handsome and turns out to be full of unorthodox ideas.  Recognizing that Allegra's knowledge of music really does cover the class's curriculum, he challenges her to compose an orchestral piece instead.  She accepts the alternative assignment and, with his help, produces a masterpiece.  But their close collaboration on the work sparks rumors and accusations of inappropriate behavior from their peers and Allegra finds herself defending their integrity as well as her talent.

It's a good story and I enjoyed reading it in spite of two systemic problems.  The first is the challenge of describing a musical composition in prose.  Without being able to hear the beauty of it, we are stuck with the author's descriptions (and there are only so many times one can read how incredible the music is before the assertions fall flat).  The other issue is the plotting of the story.  The core of the story (Allegra's relationship with her teacher) builds in tension but never resolves, ending in a bit of a literary whimper.  Similarly, the subplots (her dancing career, tensions with friends, a might-be romance with a classmate, and the pending separation of her parents) all peter out without resolution.  This left me at the end with a sense that the story was unfinished.

Pieces, by Chris Lynch

When Eric's brother dies, he is the only member of the family to resist the idea of allowing the doctors to harvest useful organs.  But after a year has passed and his parents have largely moved on, Eric becomes curious about the recipients of those pieces of his brother and reaches out to the people who received them.  Some of the recipients choose to remain anonymous, but three of them agree to meet.  The initial meeting surprises just about everyone and gradually a friendship develops between Eric and the people whose lives his brother's gifts changed.  It's an odd friendship.

The book starts out with an interesting premise but after a few moments of wonderment about what it means to have parts of your brother inside of strangers, the story starts to unravel.  By the end, it has become a disorganized mess of ideas and characters that largely failed to capture my interest.  I don't think Lynch really knew what to do with the story.  No character really develops and the original premise merely serves as an excuse for these disparate characters to interact.  The highlight of the book is actually a birthday party at Chuck E Cheese, but that could have been spun off as an amusing short story, as it has nothing to do with the story.

OCD Love Story, by Corey Ann Haydu

An unusual romance about what happens when two teens who both suffer from Obsessive Compulsive Disorder fall in love.  It's an easy mental disease to make fun of, but, while there are certainly some very funny parts of this book,  the overriding sense of this story is respect for what the condition puts its sufferers through.

Bea's illness manifests itself through obsessions with tracking other people.  Constantly afraid that the objects of her concern are in danger, she needs to "check up" on them.  Given the repetitive nature of her anxiety, the behavior is easily misconstrued as stalking, and it lands her in all sorts of legal problems.  Beck's obsession lies with hygiene and fitness.  He literally works out at the gym to the point of exhaustion and then rubs his skin clean off trying to wash up afterwards.

To the extent that it is possible between these two colorful young people, the romance follows the traditional pattern of acquaintance, misunderstanding, and forgiveness.  What is different is how their disorders affect their everyday lives and how they complicate each other's already-complex routines.

At times, this is a hard book to get through.  The nature of the disorder is exhausting in itself and one is tempted to simply wring some necks, but overall impression I found the book fascinating.  Haydu's accomplishment is creating a sympathetic and nuanced portrait of such unusual young people, and bringing them truly to life.  Mental illness is hard to get right in a book and she does an impressive job here.

Samphire Song, by Jill Hucklesby

Hit by the double blow of a father killed in action in the Middle East and a younger brother suffering from kidney disease, Jodie soothes herself by taking care of the horses at a local stable.  When she is offered the chance to buy her own horse, everyone thinks she'll find a nice gentle mare or pony to take care of.  Instead, she is drawn to a wild-eyed part-Arabian stallion.  Considered unmanageable by just about everyone, Jodie sees through his exterior and feels sympathy for an animal who needs as much TLC as she does.

It would be hard to find the justification for yet another horse book for girls as it's already a pretty crowded field.  Unfortunately, this one doesn't break new ground.  It has plenty of appealing elements and, if you like the genre, the authentic details, some adventure, a loving family, and a brave girl, then you can't really go wrong with it, but it doesn't stand out in any particularly unique way.

There is one super-distracting element of the book.  Originally published in the UK, someone made the editorial decision to Americanize the story.  This is a half-hearted affair where "Pounds" are changed to "Dollars" and "County" is (inconsistently) changed to "State." Even so, there are plenty of Anglicisms slipping in (for example, a "pub landlord") that seems sloppy.  Honestly, it would have been better to leave it alone.  Girls who love horses, also love horses in the UK just as much (if not more) than horses in the US.

If You Find Me, by Emily Murdoch

Carey and her little sister Janessa have eked out their survival in an old camper in the woods for years.  Their mother, usually strung out on meth, leaves them alone for weeks at a time.  The absences grow longer and longer until finally she doesn't return at all.  As their food is just about to run out, they are found by a social worker and their estranged father.  Brought back to civilization, the two girls struggle to adjust to their new life and move beyond the terrors of their past.

As you can imagine, it's a heartwrenching story with plenty of opportunity to shock the reader.  I'd be cold-hearted (and lying) to claim that it didn't move me.  However, a few days later as I write this review, the impact of the reading has faded surprisingly quickly.  The culprit in my mind is the roughness of the writing (a narrative that is paced irregularly - skipping forward and sometimes unnecessarily repeating).  The characters also are thinly drawn (with the adults either entirely evil or unbelievably virtuous and self-sacrificing).  Some attempt to draw out the mother and father (and even the step mother) a bit more would have made the situation more interesting.  As is, only the children have any sort of depth.  I get that Murdoch wants to keep the focus on the kids and they certainly have an interesting story to tell, but in the vacuum of capricious and mysterious adults, they are merely pawns for events that the reader wants to understand better.

Burning Blue, by Paul Griffin

Nicole is the most beautiful girl at school.  Therefore, jealousy seems like the most likely reason for the brutal assault in which half her face is burned with battery acid.  But Jay is convinced that there is more to the story.  Frustrated by the slow pace of the police investigation, Jay hacks into computer systems and pounds the pavement in classic sleuthing fashion, uncovering a truth that reaches far wider (and simultaneously far too intimately close to home) than is comfortable.

The book is billed as "a tender, haunting look at life after beauty." It isn't really.  Instead, it's really a very complicated whodunit with an extremely sloppy wrap-up (for about 240-odd pages, the story slowly rolls out, but something lit a fire under Griffin and the last fifty pages just become a messy unveiling of the real story with little-to-no effort to have it make sense).  Some heartstring-pulling at the end winds this mess up (probably that "tender" stuff in the blurb), but the characters feel neglected and unresolved.  It doesn't help that the cast of characters is vast and the story is unfocused.  Basically, it's a mess!

Midwinterblood, by Marcus Sedgwick

In seven short stories, told in reverse chronological order, we get the inter-related tales of Eric and Melle, and the isolated northern island of Blessed through the ages.  Some of the stories feature the rare Dragon Orchid, some an immense painting, and all a sense of historical destiny which we only learn the full truth of when we travel back to its source.  Not only does the era of the setting change (the first story takes place in the late 21st century, while the earliest is pre-historic), but the roles played by the characters change as well over time (adults become children, children adults, and even genders are switched).

It's a complicated and fascinating ghost story.  While slightly marred by an epilogue that makes an attempt for a happy ending, the seven stories within this book are rich and each stands on their own.  Together, they weave a compelling story that has been masterfully crafted:  elements of one story reappear in another - often to shocking effect.  The story is so complex and carefully designed that subtleties are undoubtedly missed on the first reading (and thus a re-reading is recommended).  The originality of the story captured me and I'll be thinking about it for some time to come.  I highly recommend this book if you like classic ghost stories and don't mind something that will stick in your head for days!

Hooked, by Liz Fichera

Out of the 1150 books that I've reviewed in this Blog so far, this is only the third Teen Harlequin I've read.  I've never expected much from them and have figured them to just be slightly less-explicit versions of the adult books (and with a cover like this one has, I was pretty much hiding it behind a paper bag on the plane!).  However, the three times I have read a Teen Harlequin have all been a pleasant surprise.  Far from being exploitative romantic fantasy, the stories have been stimulating and sophisticated.  Yes, it's a romance and it follows some of the basic conventions of the genre, but the writing is strong and the authors push the boundaries.

Fred is an avid golfer, even though she plays with second-hand equipment and can't afford the greens fees. When the high school team's coach recruits her to play, she's a bit reluctant:  it's a boy's team and she would be the only girl.  But there's another twist: she would also be the only Native American in the entire league.  But Fred manages to overcome these fears and prove to herself and her teammates that she can truly play, even as she faces hostility from both the white kids at school and from her friends back on the Rez.  Things get truly complicated though when she finds that she and her teammate Ryan share a love of each other as strong as their love of the game.

There's no major plot frontier being burst here (it's typical boy-meets-girl storyline), but the setting and the characters make this an unusual story.  Fichera doesn't move too far out of modern stereotypes of the Native American experience, but the idea of choosing such an unusual heroine for this story is remarkable.  And, for that matter, how many teen romances involve golf in the first place?  Somehow, I don't expect a Harlequin novel to tackle class and race conflict.  As for the romance, it's strictly G-rated (not at all like the cover!).

Better Off Friends, by Elizabeth Eulberg

Macallan and Levi have been friends since seventh grade and just that.  As a boy and a girl, they've endlessly been subjected to questions about their "relationship." No, they aren't dating; they are just friends and that is all they ever intend to be!  But being boy-girl friends is complicated in adolescence and this novel traces how, over the years, their friendship is tested by all the other relationships in their lives.

It's a sentimental (and sometimes manipulative) journey through years of a friendship.  However, it is also a surprisingly intelligent romance that avoids stereotypes and the usual hallmarks of teen romance novels (since it is really about friendship).  Eulberg has done a remarkable job depicting both Macallan and Levi's take on adolescence and each other -- no small feat when most authors specialize in either boys or girls but not both!  By the end of this deceivingly simple story, you'll find yourself terribly invested in both of these young people and in the deep and meaningful relationship they have developed.  The result, in sum, is a humble teen "romance" with depth, pathos, and poignancy.

The Caged Graves, by Dianne K Salerni

After a long absence, Verity Boone returns to her father's home in Catawissa Pennsylvania, in 1867.  She has been betrothed to a neighbor named Nate and she is returning to marry and settle in her parent's house.  But her return is marred by a sinister mystery -- the discovery that her mother and aunt (who died around the time that Verity was sent away) were buried in caged graves on unhallowed ground.  No one will explain why this was done, but the insinuation is that the two women were witches (and that the cages were intended to keep them in their graves).  An alternative explanation that is floating around is that their bodies were interred with a long-lost cache of Continental Army gold and the bars are intended to protect the loot!

The result of all this is a rich historical novel that, while flirting with supernatural ideas, stays pretty soundly within the realm of the possible in its historical context.  The story is multi-layered and also includes a complicated romantic triangle that I found compelling and mature.  If I have a complaint, it is that the book is being mis-marketed:   despite its seventeen year-old heroine, the story could only passably be considered a "young adult" novel.

I liked the richness of the characters and the complexity of their motivations.  While superstitions and fears at the beginning convince even the reader that higher forces are at play, by the end it is revealed that complex human passions can be far more mysterious than evil spirits.  The story's own mysteries are plausibly and satisfactorily resolved by the end, but still manage to surprise and startle.  Very good storytelling!

Return to Me, by Justina Chen

Rebecca is on the verge of starting her freshman year at Columbia, studying architecture.  She has a premonition that things are not going to go well.  And there are certainly issues:  her father has landed a new job in New York and the family is literally following her out east, leaving their beloved island home outside Seattle.  Meanwhile, Rebecca has to say goodbye to her boyfriend and ponder the viability of a long-distance relationship.

But then, her father drops a bombshell on the whole family:  he's leaving their mother and shacking up with a new woman.  Moreover, he's been carrying on a secret affair for the past several months.  His revelation and decision to dessert the family plunges all of them into crisis, as they deal with their grieving, anger, and eventual acceptance.  It also leads Rebecca to revisit her plans and reconsider what she really wants to do with her life.

Justina Chen writes novels full of lots of layers and meanings.  Here it seems a bit more aimless than previous books like North of Beautiful.  While some key concepts, like the meaning of architecture and Rebecca's love for tree houses, are integral to the story, there's a whole thread about Rebecca and her maternal relatives being clairvoyant which hangs awkwardly.  I have bigger issues with Chen's depiction of male characters, which are strikingly flat in comparison with the women.  The father is a glaring example, being at best shallow and seeming like a caricature.  For a story with so much insight on grieving and healing from a feminine perspective, Chen struggles with her male characters.  Rebecca's brother is a throwaway character and Rebecca's boyfriend seems to serve no further purpose than to be endlessly understanding.

Better Nate Than Ever, by Tim Federle

Thirteen year-old Nate dreams of making it big on Broadway.  Not just for the fame, but for the chance to escape his small town Western Pennsylvania existence.  He's tired of being mocked for being short and fat.  And he's tired of everyone assuming that he's gay (he's, in fact, decidedly undecided on the topic!).  So, on a weekend when his parents are away, he slips out of the house, buys a bus ticket, and makes his way to New York City to audition for a new musical based on the film ET.

It's quite an adventure for a small-town kid, and Nate's innocent and wide-eyed love for the Big Apple is a major part of the book's charm.  Nate learns in short order how to manage the chaos of the street as well as the ropes of the audition process, and he does both in his own unique way.  Through the intervention of his long estranged aunt, he also learns some family history and opens some doors.  And, while the subject of Nate's sexual orientation is addressed only fleetingly, it is obvious that he is beginning to have revelations on that front as well.

As with many books targeting middle readers, the frankness and sometimes "adult" nature of the story may make grownups squirm, but at a distance, it all seemed quite age appropriate.  For children too young to understand everything, the sympathetic Nate and the lack of serious harm that befalls him will make the book entertaining and enjoyable.  As a grownup, Nate's string of good luck seemed improbable, but it is in keeping with the spirit of this fun adventure, which promises a run of sequels.

A Tangle of Knots, by Lisa Graff

A wonderful middle reader fantasy about kids and grownups who have particular talents (whistling, disappearing, baking, etc.) and a surreal series of coincidences that bring them together in just the right way to fix everything.  It's a story that's so chaotic and jumbled that it's hard to explain, but it basically involves a bitter old man who steals away people's talents, and the efforts of a motley group to stop him.  Learning to break from past mistakes and forgiving oneself, finding a home, and a mysterious man riding a balloon in a well-pressed grey suit figure in as well.  Some homespun wisdom (e.g., "It's the way we deal with what fate hands us that defines who we are") and a series of interesting looking cake recipes fill out this fun offering.

Sometimes a book is just silly enough and a tale is just heartwarming enough that it captures that niche of children's literature that doesn't have to try to be loved.  This one fits in that special place.  Graff's story is reminiscent of Because of Winn Dixie and Savvy but the story is simpler and more direct. Like those stories, the characters are quirky and multi-generational (kids get to be kids, but adults have a role to play in the fun), and the plot isn't afraid of reaching for a little matter-of-fact magic when the real world can't be special enough.  It's a charming story that middle schoolers through young teens (and those with similar young hearts) will enjoy.

The Ruining, by Anna Collomore

Annie is excited about her new job as a nanny in San Francisco.  She'll be able to attend classes at SF State, live in a fabulous house on Belvedere Island with a great couple, take care of a sweet little girl, and (most importantly) finally escape her traumatic past.  It is a dream come true.

At first, things go well, but slowly circumstances change.  Her employers accuse her of doing things she cannot recall doing.  Strange things start to happen (Annie get mysteriously sick, things disappear, the walls get redecorated).  Annie begins to question her sanity.  In the end, her employers completely destroy Annie's life.

This very creepy story is at its best in the beginning when the freaky manipulative stuff is just starting to unfold.  But the pace picks up and eventually simply goes over the top.  At that point, since I no longer believed that the story was plausible, I stopped caring about the character.  And, since Collomore painted herself into a very tight corner, her solution has to be pretty drastic (and invoking a deus ex machina solution, it is dramatically disappointing).  The ending also completely sidesteps the issue of the evil that was done to Annie, so we're robbed the satisfaction of a final confrontation.  In all, I'll grant that the earlier parts of the book are engrossing psychological stuff, but I felt let down in the end.

Etiquette & Espionage, by Gail Carriger

Sophronia is the type of girl to drive a mother mad.  Unlike her older sisters who managed to become proper young ladies, Sophronia is always managing to get into some sort of trouble (and always of the most unladylike nature!).  She can't even curtsy correctly! So, Mumsy is only too happy to send her errant offspring off to finishing school.  Little does the woman or her daughter realize what is in store.  Mme Geraldine's school for young ladies teaches poise and etiquette, but also deceit, subterfuge, and diversion.  It is a school for girls to learn how to get what they want one way or another (through coquetry or espionage).  And, in this case, what almost everyone seems to want (and is willing to kill for) is the prototype (whatever that is!).

Apparently based on Carriger's popular steampunk universe The Parasol Protectorate, this new series of YA novels imagines the adolescents' view of a world of steam power, vampires, werewolves, Picklemen, and flywaymen.  Not being so well versed in steampunk, the concepts were a bit odd for me and seemed a bit too precious and pretentious.  The counterposing of traditional finishing school subjects with espionage is a cute joke the first couple of times, but after a couple hundred pages, the humor grows stale.  Much like steampunk fashion for me, the book is pretty to look at, but seems to paint itself in an artistic corner from which there is little room to move.

Gated, by Amy Christine Parker

Lyla feels safe in the Community.  Thanks to the wise leadership of Pioneer, her family and twenty other families will be saved when the End comes.  They will simply barricade themselves inside an underground bunker and hold out against the Outsiders.  If there is anyone she fears, it is the Outsiders!  It was one of them that abducted her sister in front of their house in NYC so many years ago.  But now she is with friends.

However, as the End time draws near, Lyla begins to notice that things are not quite right.  Pioneer doesn't always appear to be acting in their best interests.  And a chance encounter with an Outsider, a boy named Cody, opens Lyla's eyes to what is really going on.  However, as she tries to awaken her family and friends to the true source of danger in their midst, Pioneer turns his deadly attention directly on her!

A very tense (and bloody) thriller.  This one is definitely not for younger readers and it contains a fair amount of blood, major animal cruelty, and disturbing scenes.  The outcome of the story isn't terribly in doubt, but thanks to some excellent writing it remains a nail biter to the very end.  So, if you have a thick skin, this one is worth reading.

Unremembered, by Jessica Brody

When she wakes up, the girl is told that she is the lone survivor of a crashed plane flight - a crash that no human could have survived.  And that is all she knows.  Her memory has completely disappeared.  She appears to be super smart, multilingual, beautiful and physically strong, but she has no idea how she got that way.  The only clues are a locket around her neck and a tattoo on her arm.  And then there is a young man named Zen who informs her mysteriously that he is going to "rescue" her.

One of the very first things the girl figures out is that she is on the run and that Zen is a friend.  And she doesn't seem to have many of those as several groups of people are chasing after her and appear to want to cause her harm.  If only she could figure out why?  (And, by the way, it would be nice to know some simple basics like what is her name?)

This is not a deep think book, but it is a fast-paced action story with a decent mystery that takes most of the book to unwind.  It's a bit heavier on violence than I generally like and the characters are flat and disposable, but that's an artifact of the genre.  I found it entertaining for what it was.  I probably won't seek out the next installment of the trilogy, but I'm sure it will be amusing.

Fat Angie, by E E Charlton-Trujillo

Even if Angie wasn't big and uncoordinated, she would still never measure up to her sister.  But she would never want to do so.  Ever since Angie's sister was kidnapped in Iraq and went missing (and presumed dead), Angie's world has fallen apart.  The loss of her sister has made Angie more of a target to bullying from jealous classmates.  And without her sister to protect her, she is an easier target.  Angie's very public breakdown at the start of the school year didn't help anything.

Her remaining family is no refuge.  Her father is gone.  Angie's brother has turned against her and cruelly attacks her in public.  And Angie's mother accuses Angie of acting up for attention and uses her sadistic version of tough love on her daughter.

Her life, in sum, is hell, until a new girl named KC shows up.  KC is beautiful, West Coast cool, and ardently loyal to Angie, coming to her defense and helping her see beyond the abuse.  Angie can't begin to imagine how she has managed to luck out so much.  KC, however, has issues of her own and they complicate Angie's life further.

The story plays its hand very coolly.  The family may seem unnecessarily cruel, but friends are found in interesting places (in particular, from a gym teacher and a jock at school, who both look out for Angie).  It's a depressing story that you really want to end well.  Charlton-Trujillo teases a bit with partially happy endings, but the real conclusion leaves a lot of things messily unresolved.  That's not as satisfying, but it feels much more authentic.  The story has a lot of things going on:  family drama, sports competition, and love story, and it manages to balance it all fairly well.

Fangirl, by Rainbow Rowell

Saying that Cath is a Simon Snow fan is a major understatement.  She and her twin sister Wren are deep into fan fiction, with Cath writing (and Wren editing) one of the most popular Simon Snow stories.  Simon Snow is the world to Cath and has sustained the girls through high school and family trauamas.  But now that Cath and Wren are freshmen at UNL, things have changed for Wren.  She no longer wants to do Simon Snow, being drawn to new social circles and parties.  Cath stays the path, but even she is opening her eyes to the broader world that exists after high school.

It's a book that straddles the line between YA and NA (New Adult) literature.  It's about growing up and (while not letting go of childish things altogether) about integrating them into a grownup life.  That's interesting stuff.  I also enjoyed all the local detail on Lincoln and Omaha, as I remember the area well.

In comparison to Rowell's Eleanor and Park, however, it pales.  Cath, Wren, and their roommates and boyfriends make relatively less interesting characters.  And the story itself is less compelling.  It's a long book and subject to a widespread abandonment of subplots.  To paraphrase Chekhov, if an estranged mother shows up in chapter one, you need to have a big confrontation with her by the last chapter.  Instead, the family traumas (and many other subplots) are allowed to wither without any significant conclusion.  And they could easily have been excised from the book, creating a shorter and smoother story.