The Distance Between Lost and Found, by Kathryn Holmes

Hallie dreads attending youth group functions ever since a humiliating incident between her and the preacher's son Luke.  But her parents think it's time to move on and force her to go on a church-sponsored camping trip.  It starts off every bit as dreadful as she is expecting, in spite of an offer of friendship from a new girl named Rachel and some unexpected kindness from Jonah, one of her ex-friends.  But the stakes change when Hallie, Rachel, and Jonah find themselves lost in the woods and struggling for survival.  And the struggle becomes an opportunity for Hallie to redeem herself and fix her broken life.

With a plot not-so-full of surprises, the quality of this novel turns upon Holmes's strong writing and strong characters.  In the beginning, I found Hallie's whining pretty annoying (and I could easily see why she didn't have any friends anymore!) but that made her blossoming into a strong-willed protagonist that much more compelling.  The romance with Jonah never quite reaches its full potential, but you've got a lot of action to plot out here and some things had to give.  I also wanted a more cathartic ending, but Holmes got everyone to where they needed to be (physically and emotionally) by the end, so the story did its job.  I found it bracing, but realistic and thoughtful.  A great combination of emotional growth drama and survival story.

I Was Here, by Gayle Forman

After friend Meg kills herself, Cody goes in search of an explanation.  And when she discovers that her friend's death may have been helped along by a suicide "support" group that provided both the encouragement and the knowledge for how to end her life, Meg becomes obsessed with trying to track down Meg's "killer." But along the way, Cody finds out just how unclear intentions are, and comes to question the values she holds herself.

An interesting riff on both the themes of suicide and of finding the strength to live your life.  Cody has a lot of strikes against her ranging from rural poverty to a broken family.  And she makes a fair share of poor choices along the way.  But she's got strength and perseverance and that makes her interesting.  Less so the supporting cast and the love interest (I could have given all of them a pass!).  But the story hits the good points and moves along at a crisp pace.  Nothing spectacular, but a decent read.

Vivian Apple at the End of the World, by Katie Coyle

Vivian never paid any mind to her parents' conviction that Rapture was coming and that they would soon be taken to heaven, until the day she came home to find two holes in her roof and her parents gone.  Right on schedule, five thousand people have disappeared and, for the thousand more Believers who were not taken and for the people who were simply left behind, there is the question of why it happened?  With the world itself seemingly coming to an end and anarchy taking over, Vivian and her friends embark on a desperate road trip across the United States to try to find some answers.

This novel is a rough story -- entertaining, but ultimately flawed.  It works best as an apocalyptic thriller and less well as a polemical diatribe against religion and consumer culture.  Unfortunately, it's the latter that really interests Coyle.  We've seen paper tiger depictions of the evils of Evangelical Christianity before, and her particular take would be offensive if it were not so ludicrous.  Even if you aren't distracted by her silly religion-bashing, the plot has an annoying habit of relying on belated reveals of plot points essential to the story (when the story makes less sense in the re-reading, you know you're having trouble!).

But hey, there's a sequel, so people found it entertaining enough to buy it!

Faceless, by Alyssa Sheinmel

Recovery stories fill a special niche in the YA genre.  The juxtaposition of a youth with a hospital setting and lots of physical therapy is a premium dramatic concept.  One of my all-time favorite books (A Face First) dramatized the idea of a burn victim having to wear a mask on her face to help it heal.  Faces are important to everyone but particularly to adolescents, so the idea of damaging it is captivating to a youthful reader.  Alyssa Sheinmel's latest novel Faceless captures that same experience.

Maisie has suffered severe burns on her face -- damage which is so extensive that it has destroyed parts of her.  The only solutions are skin grafts or another more exotic solution:  a face transplant.  This procedure will replace parts of her face with the parts of a cadaver.  With misgivings, Maisie opts for the procedure, knowing it will be ghoulish to be "wearing" someone else's face for the rest of her life.  The novel itself traces the recovery process and the difficulties of adjusting to life as her family and friends each have to come to grips with the change.

While the novel follows pretty familiar recovery territory (with plenty of grieving, anger, and acceptance to come down the pike), I liked it.  Maisie can be awfully stuck on herself and convinced she knows what everyone else is thinking, but she reasons things out and her insights are fascinating to read about.  Her friends and family are similarly multifacted and I enjoyed the growth in her relationship with her boyfriend Chirag and her best friend Serena, as well as her ongoing struggles with her mother. Sheinmel takes her time and devotes a lot of energy into these relationships, allowing us a number of different perspectives and, in the end, a fuller understanding of the ethical, moral, and emotional dilemmas of face transplants.


[Disclaimer:  I received a copy of this book from the publisher in exchange for an unbiased review.  When I finish with it, I will donate the book to my local public library.  The book was released on September 29th.]

Hidden, by Donna Jo Napoli

A companion to Napoli's Hush, this novel traces the adventures of Melkorka's sister Brighid from the time she escaped the slavers' ship (and managed to live amid the Norsemen of Jutland) until eight years later, as the head of a band of pirates, freeing slaves along the Baltic coast.  Along the way, this action-packed adventure provides copious historical details about life in 10th century Scandinavia, ranging from domestic arts and beekeeping to political structures and social mores.

Napoli always does great historical research to get her subjects right.  But what makes her stories work best is when she is able to weave a compelling story to place into all that researched setting. One could fault her for some wishful modern sensibilities about the role of women, but nothing which clashes with or detracts from the story.  The result is a beautifully-written tale about a strong and resourceful heroine with an ability to see far forward and change the lives of others.

Tell Me, by Joan Bauer

Anna's parents are separating and she is sent to spend the summer with her grandmother, who is herself embroiled in putting together their town's famous flower parade.  As with all Joan Bauer heroines, Anna has a particular talent -- hers is acting.  Whether it's being a gymnastic giant cranberry or a singing petunia, Anna knows how to find her motivation and move a crowd.  But when she encounters a scared young girl who may be a victim of human trafficking, she's in over her head and it's time to call Homeland Security.

And if you're confused by all this, you aren't alone!  Joan Bauer, who excels at creating driven single-minded characters with quirky tastes, has created one of her most unfocused books.  There are any number of plotlines here and most of them unravel before the book is done (most notably, the potential mean girl and nefarious entrepreneur subplots which fizzle away, but even the human trafficking story never really crystallizes).  The end result is a story which never materializes, in striking contrast to Bauer's other novels.

Gone Too Far, by Natalie D. Richards

Running late for school one day, Piper comes across a mysterious notebook full of defaced photographs and coded accusations against people in school.  Initially creeped out, Piper eventually becomes obsessed by the book and the various petty crimes it documents.  Then a mystery person starts to send her text messages and asking her to finger people.  That's when things start to turn freaky as the people she fingers end up getting their just desserts.  While that is initially satisfying, Piper begins to get cold feet and the damage turns out to be much more serious than she had imagined.  What started as some leveling of the scales of justice has turned into blackmail, deceit, and far worse.

Borrowing a page quite liberally from Heathers, but without the black comedy, we have a classic story of revenge blown out of control.  Piper is a believable young woman whose passion for justice slips into vengeance, without regard for the consequences.  The fact that her adolescent mind then grossly overestimates her own importance is plausible and tragic.  Thankfully, the adults provide a similarly plausible reality check.  These are not terribly nice people, but they know their faults and the story has a very satisfying conclusion with a good last minute punch to the gut.

Frosted Kisses, by Heather Hepler

Since successfully acclimating to life in a small town in The Cupcake Queen, Penny's life has grown more complicated.  There's dealing with her father (now that her parents are divorced) who can't make time to see her.  Or the nasty bully Charity and the even nastier exchange student Esmeralda, who are both set on making Penny's life at school into hell.  Or Penny's attempt to matchmake between her grandmother and an old flame.  Or even Penny's struggles at getting her own romance off the ground.  Throw in a winter festival, a fundraiser for the local animal shelter, some zany adventures at work, and a best friend's family problems, and life is pretty crazy!

What it isn't, however, is organized into any sort of theme.  There's plenty of activity and stuff to read about here, but nothing which gives this novel a purpose.  And no matter how likable Penny is or readable the writing, that gaping hole is a big deal.  Simply tying some of the various ideas together (for example, the importance of family or loyalty to friends) would have done a lot to improve the book.  But aside from the fact that parents (and fathers in particular) come across as pretty horrible in this story, there isn't much here.


[Disclaimer:  I received a free copy of the book in exchange for an unbiased review.  After finishing with it, I will be donating the book to my local public library.  The book is scheduled for release on October 27th.]

Upside-Down Magic, by Sarah Mlynowski, Lauren Myracle, and Emily Jenkins

When Nory fails her entrance exam to the prestigious Sage Academy, she is sent to her Aunt Margo's to attend Upside Down Magic (UDM) class at Dunwiddle.  UDM is for kids whose magic is "wonky" (a not-so-PC word for the magic-challenged).  Nory is a "fluxer" (shape-shifter) with an unfortunate tendency to have her shapes shift in unexpected ways.  Her kittens grow beaver teeth and her skunks grow elephant trunks.  But in UDM class, she's joined by "flare" (fire-maker) who freezes things, a flyer (clairvoyants) who can't help but float away, and other kids with unusual and uncontrolled talents.  However, while Nory is finally among kids like herself, she longs to be normal and wants to find a way to cure herself.

The first of a series that merges a Harry Potter magic school theme with that very American sensibility for celebrating diversity, and aims it at a younger audience.  It's probably a winning formula and the trio of heavy hitters behind it is impressive.  Much more impressive for me was that for a team-written book it was surprisingly difficult to identify each writer's contribution. Jenkins in particular has a very notable dry humor which permeates the story, yet Mlynowski and Myracle are formidable presence as well.  I'm not a fan of middle grade series books, but I imagine this will be around for a while!


[Disclaimer:  I received a copy of the book from the publisher in exchange for an unbiased review.  Once I finish with it, I'll be donating it to my local public library.  The book is scheduled for release on September 29th.]

The Sound of Letting Go, by Stasia Ward Kehoe

Life in Daisy's house can be challenging.  Her little brother Steven is autistic and he's not so little anymore.  The family is proving less and less able of handling his violent outbursts.  Daisy guiltily wishes that they had a "normal" family so that she could focus on her music and go out more often with her friends, instead of being forced to take care of his brother.  But when her parents decide to institutionalize Steven, she feels even worse.  What kind of horrible people are they to reject their own kin?  She channels her anger into self-destructive behaviors (skipping school, etc.) and an aimless sexual relationship.

I get the conflicted state of Daisy's mind over whether she wants Steven there or gone, but there really is no attempt to come to peace with the decision.  Instead, she waffles back and forth and mopes.  Nor does she ever really confront the other issues in her life (her relationship with boyfriend Dave, her applications to music schools, etc.).  That lack of closure left me feeling like the story just sort of stopped and never properly finished, and while I got a clear sense of how difficult it is to have an autistic member in the family, I got no sense of growth or revelation.

All the Bright Places, by Jennifer Niven

Finch is fascinated with the many ways that people commit suicide.  Violet is living with guilt after the death of her older sister in a crash which Violet herself survived.  They meet on a ledge high above the ground when Finch saves Violet's life after she reconsiders her own attempt to end her life.  They bond.  He's the school freak, bullied by other kids and generally misunderstood.  She's the formerly popular girl who can't seem to get her life together.  But together, Finch is able to get Violet to come out of her shell and she loves him for it.  Unfortunately, her love is not enough to save him as his obsession with suicide becomes more engrossing and destructive.

A rambling and somewhat disjointed look at teen mental illness.  It starts off as a quirky romance that is filled with marvelous facts about the State of Indiana -- the kind of cute novel where oddball kids make appealing partners.  But somewhere towards the end, Niven decides to take the story into darker territory and have Finch completely unravel.  She claims in the Afterword that that was her intent from the beginning, but the story could have gone in many directions and it felt like a detour to me.  And because of that shift, I felt like we lost a lot of Violet's story.  I get that Finch's illness makes for a more dramatic ending, but it is the less interesting story in the end.

Monkey Wars, by Richard Kurti

When Papina and her troop of rhesus macaques is driven out of their home in the old cemetery by marauding gray langurs, no one can really know that this is the start of huge insurgency.  But the success stirs the ambitions of a paranoid tyrant named Tyrell, who rallies his langurs into crushing their neighbors and sundering families and friends along the way.  As they run out of external enemies, they they turn on their own, and even start to plot against the humans.  It then falls on Mico, a langur initially enthralled under Tyrell's spell, to challenge the tyrant.

This nuanced allegory about the rise of totalitarianism set amid the feral primates of Kolkata is one of the more imaginative books of the year.  Superficially, it will call to mind the Planet of the Apes, but Kurti's writing is more informed by history.  He makes numerous sharp observations about the psychology of terror and propaganda, and the way that totalitarianism both rises and falls.  It's an extremely gory novel, but one with extraordinarily important observations to make about human behavior.

This is a "boy" book, in the sense that it focuses on action, at the expense of depicting most emotional growth (with the important exception of Mico's emergence as a liberal thinker).  Most of the characters die by the end, so it's best to not get invested (Kurti cruelly spends significant time developing characters who are doomed to be brutally murdered within a chapter or two).  And the story is stubbornly androcentric.  Females play bit (although sometimes crucial) parts in the story which is overwhelmingly about males posturing and jostling for authority and power.  One could blame that on the species depicted, but it is a shame in a story which otherwise uses the primate cover as a thin veil for the human souls expressed.

The Lightning Queen, by Laura Resau

For modern day Marylander Mateo, visiting his grandfather Teo in rural Oaxaco, Mexico is an entirely different world, but one to which he looks forward every year.  On his most recent stay, Grandfather Teo tells him a story from long ago about how he met a young gypsy girl names Esma ("the lightning queen").  Their friendship, challenged by distrust between two different cultures, managed to survive.

Resau has a bit of niche writing rich stories about the indigenous people of Mexico that combine a Hispanic magical realism tradition with a modern kid-friendly sensibility.  The results are wonderful novels where the story itself is less important than the characters.  And thus a story synopsis cannot do justice to the immersive fun of the book which sends us to another world full of colorful characters and meaningful human relationships.  This book does it all one better, bringing two very unique cultures together:  the Mexteco people (of whom Resau has written before) and the less-known world of the Mexican Romani.  Truth be told, I hadn't even realized that the Romani had reached the Americas and loved the idea of bringing them to light.  While I might well have enjoyed even more about the gypsy caravan and its people, what is present is fascinating and interesting.


[Disclaimer:  I received a copy of the book in exchange for an unbiased review.  After finishing with the book, I will be donating it to my local public library.  The book is scheduled for release on October 27th.]

Royally Lost, by Angie Stanton

Crown Prince Nikolai of Mondovia is itching to be free of the confines of his existence as the heir to powerless throne of a stagnant European monarchy.  Angry that he is being forced to enlist in the military instead of following his desire to improve the world, he runs away from home, seeking freedom in central Europe.  Becca from Madison, Wisconsin is enduring a forced family river cruise through the ancient cities of Europe, sure that she will perish from boredom and moping about the boy who dumped her back home.  Obviously, they meet and sparks fly.

There are all sorts of reasons to hate this book.  You can despise the whiny Becca who gives a black mark to teen cheeseheads by constantly complaining about her horrible privileged existence.  Or you can despise the paper tiger of Nikolai's parents who effortlessly are convinced of the virtue of Nikolai's plans to reform their country simply by listening to him speak.  Or you can hate the overly simple fourth-grade vocabulary that the book is written in.  Or, while your at it, you can hate the superficial tour-guide narrative of Europe (courtesy, undoubtedly of notes from the author's own trip).

But the one thing you can give the author credit for is getting the details of Dane County Airport (MSN) down correctly.  I'd have never forgiven her for screwing that up!  And you can give the book credit for at least being an interesting story (albeit written for little children or teens in remedial English classes).  I get that it's a fluffy beach read, that intends to exploit young women's fantasies about meeting a real-life prince.  I didn't expect great literature, but at least give your readers credit for being literate!

Dangerous, by Shannon Hale

Maisie wins a sweepstakes opportunity to attend a space camp.  This is a dream come true for a one-armed girl with desire to reach for the stars.  And when her team at the camp wins another contest that allows them to go out into the stratosphere, she really has reached her greatest ambition.  That's the point when alien technology takes over her team's bodies and things start getting very serious.  Soon, there's violence and mayhem, zombifying viruses, and a secret war between a space pioneer and a scheming megalomaniac.  Meanwhile, Maisie is struggling with what to do about her boyfriend who keeps alternating between trying to kiss her and trying to slaughter her family.

I love Shannon Hale's fantasy books -- the Bayern series and the Princess Academy books are great -- but she really doesn't know what to do with science fiction.  She's not a science geek and whenever this book tries to get into the hard science it falls into absurdity.  And meanwhile, while trying to provide a plausible scientific background for the story, Hale lets the plot slip away.  Most of the story makes little or no sense.

No where is the story less incomprehensible than in the "love story" between Maisie and Wilder -- a coupling that is at best like the more obnoxious elements of Rory and Logan's relationship in Gilmour Girls (sorry, if you were a fan!).  How can we possibly believe that she is lusting after the guy who tried to kill her family twenty pages ago?  And, if that's really how she feels, how can we feign interest in someone so shallow?  Yes, it's silly (and Hale is trying to go for silly), but it's also an ungodly mess!

Zac & Mia, by A. J. Betts

Zac and Mia meet in the cancer ward, where Zac is a worldly veteran of bone marrow transfusions and a calm and reflective expert on the ups and downs of leukemia.  Mia, in comparison, is the lucky one with a relatively simple tumor that should respond nicely to chemo.  But she is angry and resists both friendship and treatment.  In the end, Zac comes out okay and leaves and Mia, while still in the ward, has a good prognosis despite here gloomy and angry outlook.

But things don't end up quite the way the two of them expect.  And in the ensuing months, these two young people go on a trip across the country and across their hearts that has them exploring what it means to be alive and asking what second chances are really worth.

The story bears a superficial resemblance to John Green's The Fault In Our Stars, but eschews much of the humor and irony of that more famous work.  Obviously, both books dwell a lot on death, but Betts isn't trying to answer the Big Questions that Green went after.  And the tone of this book is much lower key.  For that reason, Zac & Mia is a much harder book to digest.  I found it a bit jumpy, with awkward transitions between major plot developments and an annoying obsession with the turning of tables and plot twists.  But it is also harder reading because Betts's book lacks the Hollywood ending that made TFIOS so filmable.

I liked Zac & Mia's humble scrappiness and the story line's interests roam in interesting ways.  Betts, for example, develops the characters of Zac's and Mia's families and friends (in a way that John Green never would have done) and much is made of history and roots.  The relationship of the two young people is central but it exists within a social network that sees healthy development in this novel.  And even the relationship between Zac and Mia has nuances and complex layers of doubt and hope that felt more realistic.

Untwine, by Edwidge Danticat

After her twin sister is killed in a car accident, Giselle goes through an extended period of healing from her own accident-related injuries and recovering from the loss of her sister.  Memories of their lives together and pointed observations about her family make up Giselle's account of how the accident has changed them.

Danticat writes beautifully and the novel is full of gorgeous flowing prose, which speaks elegantly of Giselle's Haitian roots.  However,  the subject matter is well-trod and this book adds little new to the subject of grief.  There are extensive observations about the process of healing, more than a few attempts to bring up the duality and psychic connection between twins, and a rather bizarre subplot about the investigation of the cause of the accident.  But none of this really gels and we're left with a beautiful story and no place to go with it.


[Disclaimer:  I received a copy of the book from the publisher in exchange for an unbiased review.  After I finish with it, I'll be donating the book to my local public library.  The book is scheduled for release on September 29th.]

First Kiss (Then Tell), edited by Cylin Busby

Twenty five major YA writers responded to the question "Tell us about your first kiss" and the results, of course, are fantastic!  There's almost certainly a bit of artistic license in the stories and a fair share of creativity (Scott Westerfield's haiku is by far the briefest submission!).  But overall, these are wonderful stories about the vulnerable, yet life changing, experience of locking lips with someone really special (or far too often not so special).

It's a lightning fast read, as each of the stories are very short (you'll spend almost as much time reading the bios as you do reading the stories), but each is lovely in their own way.  There is, however, a sense that we've heard the story a bit too often by the time we reach the end.  Twenty-five kisses and most of them pretty much tell the same story of fear, awkwardness, and self-realization.  You'll come to understand that most first kisses are disappointments, but also reference points for the later ones that really matter.  That's a great lesson to tell young readers, but the kids may get tired of hearing it the tenth or twentieth time they read it.  And finally, one could fault Busby for having so few recollections from boys (who apparently don't remember their kisses) or for not attempting to explore a world outside of upper middle class suburbia (are there no kisses of color?).  Still, I couldn't imagine a better focus for a collection of YA short stories.

Fan Art, by Sarah Tregay

Jamie knows that falling in love with your best friend is never a good idea, but especially when he doesn't know that you're gay (and you don't know if he is).  But when one of Jamie's other friends makes him publish her gay-themed fan art in the school literary magazine (with two characters that look suspiciously like Jamie and his friend), the cat is about to be let out of the bag.  Time is running out for Jamie to come clean and come out to his friend.  Now, Jamie just needs to find the inner strength to do so.

This is a strange novel and I'm not quite sure how to read it.  Tregay avoids the usual stereotypes of gay YA.  Jamie's parents are accepting.  There's a small amount of static from his peers, but for the most part, Jamie's reluctance to fully come out is just a fear of losing his friend's affection.  But the whole thing seems blown out of proportion.  Why does the publication of the fan art have to be such a big deal?  How is Jamie even vaguely forced to publish it?  Why do so if it threatens his ability to keep his orientation under wraps?  And, why, if he is so afraid to come out, does he make so little attempt to hide it?  And, as for the boys, given the constant mixed signals they keep sending each other, we're all pretty certain how this is all going to end up by the 100th page.  So, what exactly was the point of it?

Still, as an example of a more liberal contemporary view of being a gay teen (in a world where prejudice does not in fact play a defining role), this could be read as a rom-com.  In that mindset, the set ups would seem funny and we could just enjoy the fun of two people finding each other.  But then, Tregay throws in a hint of menace that suggests that it isn't that simple and that she wants to make a statement about how hard it is to be a gay teen.  And so I get confused again about what we're doing here.

Sanctuary, by Jennifer McKissack

When her uncle stops paying for school, seventeen year-old Cecilia is forced to return to her family's ancestral manor Sanctuary on a remote island off the coast of Maine.  Haunted by ghosts of an angry ship captain and the many Acadians he helped to forcibly deport to Virginia, the place is racked by misfortune and madness.  But with the help of a young doctor and some other people from her family's past, Cecilia aims to undo the curse and bring peace to the place.

A classic ghost story set in the 1940s with a barely adolescent protagonist, the story has a languorous pace and a classy tone.  However, it is not YA and it is not even a children's book.  There's a fairly low key and mature romance but none of the elements of YA (coming of age, finding one's place, evolving relationships with family or friends, etc.) that one would expect in the genre are present.  It's a fine enough read, but not really the type of book that interests me, nor in fact the usual fare carried by Scholastic Press!


[Disclosure:  I received a free copy of the book from the publisher in exchange for an unbiased review.  Once I finish with it, I'll be donating the book  to my local public library.  The book is scheduled for release on September 29, 2015.]