Snow Apples, by Mary Razzell

In post-WWII British Columbia, Sheila doesn't have a lot of options.  Her mother has pretty much assumed that she'll get married and thus sees no use for the schooling at which Sheila excels.  And the odds certainly do seem stacked against her.  Opportunities do not abound on the islands and anyways women are pretty much second class citizens in this time and place.  Still, Sheila is determined to pursue nursing and make her own decisions about love and marriage, even when things don't quite turn out as she'd like.

Gritty and realistic, Razzell brilliantly captures the sense of time and place.  Rather than tell us about the injustices of the time, she lets them unfold naturally.  It's a tricky business:  to unleash circumstances that offend modern sensibilities without pulling back and editorializing, but Sheila is painted realistically.  She certainly objects to the sexism around her, but she recognizes it as something much bigger than herself.  It is left for the reader to become indignant.  I could have done without the graphic depiction of a miscarriage at the end of the book, but otherwise, I appreciated the realism and attention to detail that is present here.  The story, while modest in scope, opens a portal to another time and place which will fascinate the reader.

Starring Arabelle, by Hillary Hall De Baun

She hopes to make a strong initial impression as she starts ninth grade this year.  Arabelle wishes that she could make a big statement simply by gliding into a room, the way the heroine of her favorite romance novel does.  Unfortunately, her plan of achieving her aims through trying out for the school play get ruined by a jealous upperclassman and her guidance counselor's insistence that she volunteer at a local nursing home.

These set backs are temporary.  She still manages to get involved in the play and the residents of the home where she is volunteering prove to provide her with unanticipated opportunities and benefits.  Quirky characters and several heartwarming subplots explore the topic of romance, which forms the central obsession of Arabelle's life.

It's a book with lots of clever ideas, but stiff writing and wooden characters. For example, Arabelle's obsession with romance is early on established with her love of a particular romance novel, but the plot point never goes anywhere.  The obvious point of intersection would be with the real life romance in the story, but they never quite meet.  As another example, the quirky characters are all colorful and introduced fully, but none of their quirks really contribute to the story.  It's as if the author, by filling the scene with so much color, accepts that the job is done and so it's now back to the story (which really has nothing to do with any of these characters).  A creative work, but ultimately in need of more development and engineering.

How to Meet Boys, by Catherine Clark

Lucy and her friend Mikayla have an exciting summer planned.  In exchange for working for her grandparents, Lucy has been given her a cottage for the summer, which she and Mikayla are going to share.  The place is a bit run down, but the independence that it promises is intoxicating.

The excitement, however, is dampened by the news that Lucy's grandparents have also hired local boy Jackson to help out.  Jackson and Lucy have a history -- nearly three years ago, he completely broke her heart by spurning her advances and publicly humiliating her.  They have not spoken since and Lucy would like to keep it that way, which will be hard to do if they have to work together all summer.  Meanwhile, Mikayla has fallen hard for a guy, only to find out too late that it's the same infamous Jackson.  How will she ever tell Lucy the identity of her crush?  This and many other adventures await the girls in their memorable summer!

In other words, a light and fluffy beach book, full of awkward moments and girl bonding.  It's entertaining and fun, because the two girls (and their other friends) are sympathetic, but a bit on the lighter end of the spectrum for these types of books.

Half of My Facebook Friends Are Ferrets, by J. A. Buckle

In some ways, Josh is a pretty normal sixteen year-old.  He'd like to have a girlfriend, his Mom drives him nuts, and he has an annoying older sister.  But as a metal head with a pet ferret (named Ozzy), he is also a bit unusual and quirky.  As his seventeen birthday approaches, he's made a list of things he'd like to do, including being kissed, learning to play Metallica's "One," seeing Finnish death metal band Children of Bodom in concert, owning a real guitar, getting a piercing, or being as cool as his father was.  But with no luck with girls, a single mother with "financial difficulties," and a father who died when he was little, Josh doesn't hold out much hope for success with any of these goals.

It's a funny and fast paced romp through Junior year for a group of boys in what is a surprisingly sensitive approach for a boy book (obviously, trying to appeal to young female readers as well).  There is the requisite gross-out/fart joke/girl-ogling/penis references, but Josh is a good kid and tends to do the right thing, even as he and his friends also do a large amount of putting their feet in their mouths.  I'm not a huge fan of the sub-genre, but this book was a fast read and enjoyable.  In fact, I was a little surprised that the author (a woman from England) was so effective at writing about life as a boy from New York.

The Book of Love, by Lynn Weingarten

In this sequel to The Secret Sisterhood of Heartbreakers, Lucy is now a full-fledged sister.  Her three friends and her from a "family" and set off on more conquests, including a ruthless heartbreaking of a famous rock star.  However, breaking hearts isn't all it's cracked up to be, and Lucy learns that there is a price to pay.  Realizing she's made a mistake and nostalgic for the simplicity of her pre-sisterhood life, she yearns to undo what has been done.

The result is an even stranger novel that the first one.  This was a hard book for me to track, first off because the plot is so twisted and the book keeps changing directions.  And secondly, because the characters simply are not memorable.  I was glad to see a moral compass introduced towards to end of the story, because the mindless hedonism that predominates this story is really a turn off.  But I think the message that emotional authenticity is more powerful than any magic could have been made a bit more forcefully in the end.

Some Boys, by Patty Blount

After Grace accuses Zac (the star lacrosse player at school) of raping her, she finds the entire community turn against her.  From the boys and girls (including her former BFFs) at school who taunt her with slurs, to the teachers who tolerate the abuse, to even her own father who holds the belief that she brought this on herself, no one will give her a break.  But when she is sentenced alongside Ian (another lacrosse player) to a week of scrubbing out lockers during spring break, she discovers an unlikely ally.  Told in alternating chapters between Grace and Ian, we get to observe an amazing and organic character development, most notable of which is Ian's conversion from being Zac's friend to recognizing that Grace is telling the truth.

Heart wrenching as the topic of rape is, Blount dwells less on Grace's recovery than she does on the terrible treatment of victims by society, and furthermore never allows Grace to be the victim.  By far, Grace is one of the stronger teen heroines we have seen in YA in a long time (I have no doubt she could deck Katniss!).  While publicity for this novel interprets the story as being about a poor girl needing to be rescued by a man, it really isn't.  Grace falters and doesn't always survive the onslaught of hatred and cruelty which is unleashed on her, but she has amazing fortitude throughout.  And Blount does a pretty good job of pointing out that, while friends are helpful, in the end you really only have yourself to rely on, so that's where you need to find your strength.  A solid winner of a book and very very hard to put down!

It's a great cover, too!

Pretty Sly, by Elisa Ludwig

Willa should be trying reform herself and lay low since being released on probation after the larceny streak she engineered (see previous novel, Pretty Crooked). However, when her house is ransacked and her Mom disappears, things change.  Rather than obey her mother's clear indication that Willa should hang tight, she sets off in search of Mom.  This involves reeling in the old gang and even hooking up with her nemesis Aidan Murphy.  But can they find Mom before the cops find them?  Or the FBI?  Or the two thugs on their trail?

The book wants to be an adventure and, while it has its moments and a couple great chase scenes, there's too much weirdness, implausible/impossible twists, and just plain silliness.  The most egregious moment for me was when the two kids jumped out of a third-floor balcony and "somehow" survive (Ludwig never bothers to explain how, she just jumps forward).  The technical feats (car hotwiring, computer hacking, house alarm disarming, etc.) are pipe dreams that would never work in real life as described here, but again Ludwig doesn't let details get in the way.  And then there is the truly horrendous romance with Aidan.  This not only lacks sparks, but has a silly subplot involving Willa discovering Aidan is "sexting" with an unknown girl (although the "Where R U?" texts hardly qualify as sexting), to which I say, who cares?  The whole on-the-run thing is a bit too silly to believe either.  In sum, too much weirdness sucking away the interesting potential.

The Unfinished Life of Addison Stone, by Adele Griffin

Through interviews with a full cast of characters who knew her, Griffin unravels the sad details of genius artist Addison Stone.  With tireless sleuthing, she gets at the truth behind Stone's life and the causes of her death, dispelling several rumors that have persisted.  Copiously illustrated with Stone's key works and featuring numerous photographs from friends and family, we get an intimate insider's view of her life, blemishes and all.

Stone, in Griffin's hands, is a delicate and finely developed personality, even though we rarely hear from the artist directly.  The book gives us great perspective on what drove her.  And yet, what makes this a truly amazing work is that it is complete fiction.  With creativity and tremendous effort providing the illustrations, Addison Stone's character really comes to life in this faux biography.  Griffin thus achieves two impressive feats:  writing a smooth flowing biography, and doing so with a totally fictitious personality.  Truly a remarkable and unique novel.

Trouble, by Non Pratt

Fifteen year-old Hannah discovers she is pregnant.  She already has a reputation as a party girl, so this just solidifies people's preconceptions.  But in an atmosphere of shaming and hushed secrets, a surprising ally appears in the form of a new kid named Aaron.  The two of them really don't know each other at all, but he volunteers to step forward and pretend to be the baby's father.  Why?  No one really knows and Aaron is keeping his secrets pretty close.  Not that Hannah should talk, since she isn't telling anyone who really is the father!

What emerges is a touching story of two young people thrust into a difficult situation and showing tremendous fortitude in the face of peers and family who sometimes help and other times let them down.  There are some definite meanies (e.g., Hannah's brother and her ex-BFF Katie) and one could fault Pratt for creating Aaron a bit too benevolent, but mostly this is story of people who do both good and evil.  I always appreciate balance and nuance in my characters and Pratt does a great job here.

Pratt is also remarkably restrained in her storytelling.  In the beginning, as the challenges and plot twists get introduced, I felt like we were swinging from one melodrama to the next, but once we got stuff out there, the story walked us through everything at a pace that was believable.

Egg & Spoon, by Gregory Maguire

Elena lives a difficult life in an impoverished village in Tsarist Russia.  The men have all been taken away by the Tsar's men and the land has grown unproductive.  Elena has no food and is forced to watch her mother slowly dying.  They are at wits end and there is little to hope for.  Then fate brings a visit from a retinue -- a train laden with more wealth and food than Elena can imagine -- and a young woman Elena's age named Ekaterina.

Ekaterina is on her way to the capital in Saint Petersburg to be presented in Court as a potential consort for the Tsar's godson.  A fateful confluence of accidental events forces the two girls to swap places.  The disorder this unleashes will, in the end, involve the Firebird, the Snow Dragon, Baba Yaga, and the Tsar of All Russia himself.

It's a playful novel that riffs on Russian mythology in the way that his popular series Wicked played on the Grimm's fairy tales.  I liked the story best in the beginning where it is less fantastical and relied on the popular idea of a simple good peasant petitioning the Tsar (i.e., the first 150 pages or so).  But as the story progresses, it grows odder and loses the spirit of the originals.  Certain elements like Baba Yaga's snarky and anachronistic humor is downright grating and mood-killing (think Miracle Max but without Billy Crystal's charm).  The idea of the formidable domovoi transformed into a puppy-dog like creature with duck feet is downright bizarre!  However, the weirdest image is of an army of giant matryoshka dolls attacking in formation.  Still, the book is an amazing accomplishment, pulling all of these elements together, being witty about it, and still formulating a coherent story.

The Black Butterfly, by Shirley Reva Vernick

Penny's Mom is obsessed with ghosts and, after sixteen years, Penny has grown accustomed to her Mom rushing off at a moment's notice and leaving her with friends so she can pursue the latest sighting.  But it's something of a new low when Mom informs Penny that she's being sent to a remote island off the coast of Maine to stay with an old friend at the Black Butterfly Inn for Christmas.  Penny has never heard of this friend and isn't sure what to expect.  The initial reception is frosty -- her hostess is AWOL and her son is less than friendly.  But with some prodding and help from the Inn's cook, Penny and the boy break the ice.  At the same time, strange things are afoot at the Inn.  Secrets from the past play a large part and, much to Penny's surprise, even supernatural elements appear.

A bit of a messy story that starts off sensibly enough as a story of reconciliation as Penny learns about her mother's past through some old family friends.  The cook is a nice light touch and the story could have easily focused on healing and growth, and even thrown in some nice romance as well.  But Vernick wants to tell a ghost story, so we shift to the supernatural.  It's here that the story largely becomes unhinged.  There's several stories and none of them make much sense, but they work up to a climax that works OK within its bounds.  However, the end seems largely detached from the rest of the story.  It seemed forced and didn't gel.

A Blind Spot for Boys, by Justina Chen

Shana's decided to swear off dating after an unfortunate experience with a much older guy.  So, she is less than thrilled to have her heart set racing from a chance encounter with a handsome guy named Quattro.  Before she has much time to worry about it though, her world is turned upside down when her father is diagnosed with retinal neuropathy and given a prognosis of complete blindness within six months.  With those dark clouds on the horizon, the family decides to launch a series of trips to check off destinations on Dad's bucket list.  She's off to Machu Piccu with her parents!

When she gets there, she finds that Quattro is also there (this is actually foreshadowed in the beginning of the book and not entirely a coincidence).  Her anti-dating resolution is in serious danger (although Quattro for his part also seems to have issues).  The tension that develops could have been the story, but rather than allow that to happen, Chen points things in an entirely different direction.  Their hike to the ancient ruins takes a dangerous turn and the story becomes a survival adventure!

There may be something realistic about a story that doesn't stick to a path.  Perhaps, going from family tragedy to romance to adventure story has some appeal for keeping us on our toes, but it doesn't make for a particularly readable story.  At some point, you just sit back and decide to enjoy the ride.  And unfortunately, the romance and in fact the family's struggle with Dad's impending blindness are largely lost in the noise of the environmental disaster and sheer survival.  Chen is a great writer (I loved her North of Beautiful) and her characters have depth and emotional weight, but this story is wildly out of control!  A book with a title like this should really be about the romance and Chen tries hard, but it's just not a compelling part of the story.

Kiss of Broken Glass, by Madeleine Kuderick

When Kenna gets caught in the girls' bathroom at school trying to cut herself, she runs afoul of Florida's Baker Act and gets involuntarily committed to a "stabilization facility" for 72 hours of treatment and observation.  Those three days of institutionalization give her an opportunity to reflect on her compulsion, how she developed it, and how others around her who also inflict self-harm behave.

Telling the story in verse is a bit dangerous as it tends to invite poignant but ultimately shallow platitudes with implied ellipses.  However, some people (including Kuderick's mentor Sonya Sones) can pull it off.  I give Kuderick a passing grade for being both moderate and inventive.  She avoids some of the easy cheap tricks and at the same time shows some creativity in her verses.  When individual verses stand up on their own (as they sometimes do here), you know you have something.

I'll also admit that Kuderick's admission that this novel was inspired (although not entirely based) on her real daughter's struggle with self-harm gives this effort a pathos and bravery that would paint me a heartless person for criticizing.  However, I thankfully don't have to hide a frank review of what is ultimately an effective work. Books about cutting are pretty easy to find.  This is one of the more interesting ones.

After the End, by Amy Plum

For all of her life until now, Juneau has believed that a great war wiped out civilization thirty years ago.  She and her clan, living in a remote part of Alaska, are nearly the only survivors of an apocalypse.  Aside from occasional unwanted run-ins with brigands and raiders, there is no one else left.  Then, a surprise attack destroys her village and her people are abducted and taken away.  She alone must find them and she sets off in a search, using clairvoyance and other magic she has learned to locate them.

As she sets out, she immediately makes a shocking discovery:  the world was not in fact destroyed.  Civilization is very much still there.  Why would the adults on her tribe lie to her?  There's no one to ask, but it seems tied up to their recent abduction.  Meanwhile, she is definitely being hunted.  In fact, as she quickly learns, there are two separate groups looking for her.  With the help of a spoiled young man named Miles (with a secret agenda of his own), she seeks to find her people in this strange (and very alive) world, while evading the hunters.

An odd adventure, with both realistic and supernatural elements mixed in.  In general, the story worked.  I was less taken by Plum's research - it is fairly obvious that the author has spent little if any time in the settings of the story as her descriptions sound like they were cribbed off of websites and she makes some pretty big geographical errors.  Somewhat more frustrating is the cliffhanger ending which basically lets us know that this the first of an unannounced series.  Don't expect any sort of wrap up as the book stops abruptly without an ending.

Being Sloane Jacobs, by Lauren Morrill

Two girls with identical first and last names decide to swap places while attending summer camp in Montreal.  Sloane Emily Jacobs is the daughter of a US senator, who has just betrayed her.  Her helicopter mother meanwhile is forcing her back into a career in figure skating that Sloane no longer wants to pursue.  Sloane Devon Jacobs is from the other side of the tracks.  Her goal is to score a hockey scholarship to get into college and escape her alcoholic mother and distant father, but she's choking on the rink and afraid that she doesn't have what it takes.  When the two girls cross paths, they bond over their envy of the other's life.

On a dare, they decide to switch roles -- with Sloane Emily ending up at a summer hockey camp and Sloane Devon at an elite figure skating training program.  While they both can skate, they are essentially fish out of water and a great deal of the first part of the book traces their struggle to survive in their new environments.  There's the expected set-backs, but ultimately the overcoming of this adversity to succeed (and to learn something about themselves to take back with them).  Romance, as expected, also pops up and complicates things.

No major surprises here, albeit a unique setting (Montreal).  Morrill tries to add some weight to the story with the family troubles, but neither the alcoholic mother nor the philandering father really get pursued.  Most of the adversity, for that matter, is played through pretty fast.  The pacing is a bit too glib to get hung up on character growth or literary pretension.  Classify this as a summer read.

Like No Other, by Una LaMarche

Devorah and Jaxon both live in Crown Heights, but they couldn't be more different.  Devorah is a young Lubavitch Hasid while Jaxon is West Indian.  Their worlds are completely separated.  But one night, during a hurricane, they end up stuck together in an elevator.  This chance encounter changes their lives, opening up a view of each others' worlds that draws them together.  And thus, they fall in love despite the insurmountable barriers to them even seeing each other.

On one side, this can be seen as a modern retelling of Romeo and Juliet.  LaMarche has carved out a splendid look at what happens when two strong-minded young people resist their community's notions of what the future is supposed to bring.  However, there is more going on here.  For Devorah, there is an important question of her ability to choose a future that may not involve marriage at all (and not just with whom she socializes).  And while Jaxon is pleasant enough, the glue of this story is really Devorah, as she explores the danger of rejecting traditional boundaries while still embracing her faith. 

The novel, in the end, becomes a cross between the meeting-of-two-worlds of The Geography of You and Me and a far more serious dash of Eishes Chayil's Hush (it certainly seems to offend the same audience!).  Where it differs from both is that it is far more thoughtful and less sensationalist.  Anyone expecting to find a bad guy here will be quite surprised by the ending!

Let's Get Lost, by Adi Alsaid

Leila, while on an immense road trip north to see the Aurora Borealis, chances upon four different young people.  There's Hudson, about to start his studies in medicine.  Then, there's an angry and lost Bree, who's running away from the only home she has left.  While fleeing, she is still desperate to find a way to stop running.  Elliott, obsessed with romantic comedies, presents a different challenge.  He has just ruined his prom by attempting to generate a picture-perfect moment with his best friend by (unsuccessfully) confessing his love to her.  Leila helps him make the night right.  And then there's Sonia, afraid to acknowledge in public that she's dating again less than a year after the untimely demise of her first love.  And finally, of course, there's Leila's own story (about why she's making this trip in the first place).

The ultimate result is five peripherally related short stories.  Most of them are about loss and finding love again, and this is the theme that ties everything together.  While that is a decent theme and these are good stories, they are a bit repetitive, and the message too heavily hit.  That said, I liked the overall structure, which seemed different and a bit unique for YA.

The Half Life of Molly Pierce, by Katrina Leno

For most of her life, Molly has experienced episodes which she has blacked out and afterwards cannot remember what has occurred for a period of time.  As far as she knows, no one else has noticed because she's always managed to care for herself.  This changes after Molly is involved in a terrifying auto accident, where a victim (whom she has never met before) recognizes her but calls her by an entirely different name. 

It quickly becomes apparent that there is an entire group of people who know her, but under a different name, and solely from the time periods when she has blacked out.  Stranger still, no one seems to be surprised from this finding.  But no one will explain to her why this is so.

A complicated and, at times, tricky plot to follow.  The pace is perfect for the story and the mystery unravels at a satisfying pace.  The characters are a bit hard to engage with, but this is a plot-driven story.  Leno makes some effort to round out the character of Molly, but to be blunt no one really cares if she is a bad friend or a kind older sister.  We simply want to know what the heck is going on!  And that need to figure out this story is what will keep you flipping pages.

I Love I Hate I Miss My Sister, by Amelie Sarn

Two teenage girls of Algerian descent, growing up in France.  The younger one Djelila is brave and fearless.  She wears tight jeans and makeup to school, plays basketball, smokes with her friends, and bristles at the patriarchal restrictions of her family's culture.  The older one Sohane takes a different path.  In her last year of high school, Sohane decides that she'll start wearing a headscarf as a statement of freedom and self-respect.  Her decision to wear a head covering in school violates French law and causes her to be expelled from school.  Djelila is outraged at the treatment of her sister, but far worse awaits her when she is murdered for her apostasy a week later by a neighbor.

Translated from French, this short novel packs quite a punch of political issues, showing how religious freedom is ultimately more complicated than civil society understands.  It's easy as an American to see the hypocrisy in the French approach to secularization, but even that outrage oversimplifies the complexity of the issue.  Instead, Sarn brilliantly shows the yearning for self and agency through these two sisters.  Along the way, she also tackles the complex feelings of love and jealousy that the two girls experience towards each other.

Thirty Sunsets, by Christine Hurley Deriso

On the eve of her family's annual month-long beach vacation, Forrest discovers that her mother has invited Olivia (her older brother's psycho bulimic girlfriend) to join them.  Worse still, she's going to have to share a room with her!  All that Forrest wants is to have a normal summer -- meet a cute guy on the beach and have a first kiss, sort out why her brother has gotten so weird, and maybe lose Olivia in a riptide along the way.  What Forrest gets, however, is completely unexpected:  a summer of revelations (about family, her brother, and herself).

I liked Deriso's great sense of family dynamics and her ear for language in complex scenes.  I was less thrilled by her taste for melodrama and piling on crisis upon crisis.  This story features a rape, an attempted sexual assault, an out-of-wedlock pregnancy, an abusive mother, alcoholism, and even a death.  Deriso doesn't have much patience for storytelling, so rather than focus on her strengths in character building she resorts to action and violence.  This ultimately makes the book exhausting and thin, and wastes some lovely and interesting characters.