Beyond Clueless, by Linas Alsenas

Marty is starting her freshman year at a Catholic girls' school, separated from her best friend Jimmy, who's staying on in public school.  Jimmy thrives at his school, coming out (to no one's surprise) and making lots of new friends.  Marty though feels lost and confused.  She's not exactly friendless, having met a sharp tongued girl named Xiang, but she still feels socially awkward.  Her love of theater leads her to try out for the school musical and it turns out to be the way to break through her issues.  Jimmy brings his new friends over to help out and Marty herself catches the eye of a gorgeous upperclassman.  But people are acting funny around her and she can't figure out what is going on.

A fast paced friendship drama -- full of the twists and turns one expects in ninth grade.  I enjoyed Marty and her honest emotions and her snarky friend Xiang is a highlight.  The boys did less for me.  There are numerous characters here and neither Felix (the love interest), Jimmy, or Oliver (or any of the other friends) left much of an impression.  I did start to wonder where the story was heading mid way through and, while the ending does a decent job of sorting out thing, I was as clueless as Marty about what was going on in the story.  That may have been due to my inattentive reading, but the clean wrap up in the end seemed a bit of a cheat.  So, I'd call this novel great for character development, but confusing and hard to follow.

No Shame, No Fear, by Ann Turnbull

In seventeenth century England, taking a political stand could be a life-endangering choice.  And choosing to follow a religious creed which challenged the social order could easily get you accused of sedition.  Susanna's father sits in jail for refusing to pay tithes or swear fealty to the Crown.  And Susanna herself must leave their small village seek her fortune in town.  There she encounters more persecution but also befriends an idealistic gentry lad who is sympathetic to her faith.  Love develops between them, but it coexists with cruel persecutions.

A stunning and gritty portrayal of the brutal persecution of the early Quakers.  The novel badly needed some historical notes to explain to readers what was depicted (it helped tremendously that I have just read George Fox's Journal a few months ago).  But aside from the fact that the novel will confuse people, I found it compelling.  The two lovers are endearing in their passionate youthful obsession with each other, but the commitment they make to their faith makes an even stronger impression.  It's a fascinating historical adventure with a sequel that I am looking forward to reading.

Rules for 50/50 Chances, by Kate McGovern

Ever since Rose's mother was diagnosed with Huntington's disease, Rose has lived in fear -- fear of what it would do to her mother and to their family, but also fear of whether she too would get sick some day.  While there is still plenty of time before she could start to show symptoms, the 50/50 chance that they will appear hangs over her and holds her back.

Then, as she is about to turn eighteen, she meets Caleb, a black boy with two family members suffering from sickle-cell.  He challenges her notions about race and her fear of getting sick and pushes her to overcome what is holding her back.  It couldn't come at a more opportune moment as her talent in dance blossoms into the chance of a lifetime to attend an elite ballet school.

It's a novel with a mix of big ideas.  There's the heavy subject of a family coping with chronic illness and a frank look at race and prejudice.  And then there is all this little stuff (falling in love, pursuing dreams, etc.).  Having all this stuff going on probably makes the book seem like a mess, but McGovern juggles it all flawlessly.  But again, the highlight for me turned out to be her treatment of Rose's notions of race.  Caleb insightfully probes Rose's racial privilege (one of my favorite scenes is when she protests that she is colorblind to race and he retorts that he wants the fact that he is black to be acknowledged and does not want her to ignore him).  It's sophisticated stuff and moves us beyond tired tropes of political correctness.  And while Rose frequently comes across badly as both naive and self-centered, there is an honesty and logic to the relationship that drew me in.  And yes, there was a dying mother too.

The Heir and the Spare, by Emily Albright

Evie was only six years old when her Mom died, but through a series of letters that she left behind, Evie has been guided by her mother.  It's led her to her Mom's homeland of England and to enrolling at Oxford.  There, however, she has a totally unexpected turn, when she she falls for a classmate who turns out to be a prince.  This in turn makes her a target of jealous girls and the paparazzi, both of whom she finesses with a sharp tongue and stereotypical American brashness.

Her mother's letters keep coming and they lead Evie to the realization that she is herself from a noble background.  This is eminently convenient, as it removes the potential barrier of Evie the commoner trying to ingratiate herself with her prince.  But it raises another problem:  will the prince love her for who she is and not for her title?

An entertaining read, but ultimately silly and frivolous.  While ostensibly about college-aged young people (and featuring some steamy -- but largely non-explicit -- romance), the mindset of the book is adolescent.  From the fantasy of the cute unattached boy who is always available and obsequious in all ways, to the friends who always have Evie's back without any needs of their own, to the easily vanquished baddies, Evie and her world are a simple place.  There's no need to study, no worries about money, and complete self-centricity.  The only thing that matters in this book is whether the prince will kiss her or not.

A Hundred Hours of Night, by Anna Woltz

After Emilia's father loses his job due to a scandal involving one of the students at her school, Emilia runs away from their Amsterdam home, all the way to the Big Apple.  She arrives to discover that her lodging arrangements have fallen through and she is homeless.  But with some resourcefulness and good luck, she finds a place to stay with a boy her age and his little sister.

There are a number of other issues, including her obsessions about infections and lingering anger at her family.  But when she learns that Hurricane Sandy is bearing down on New York, she discovers that some problems can easily outshine others.  When the hurricane makes landfall and knocks out the power for over four days, she and her new friends come together in a way that Emilia never imagined possible.

The end result is a survival story with a big heart.  I enjoyed they many fascinating details about what it was like to be trapped in Manhattan during and after the storm (the author based the story on her own experience) but the the real point of the story is Emilia moving beyond her shame and anger.  We don't get to see enough of Emilia's earlier self to truly appreciate the transformation, but there is a satisfying growth in her character.


[Disclaimer:  I received an advance reviewer's copy of this book for the purpose of creating an unbiased review.  The book is slated for publication on April 26, 2016]

What's Broken Between Us, by Alexis Bass

Ever since Amanda's brother went to jail for the DUI killing of a girl at her school, Amanda has lived in shame.  She'd like things to return to normal, if she could figure out how.  It doesn't help that her brother is seemingly unrepentant for his behavior or that Amanda is cheating on her boyfriend (with the brother of another girl who was injured in the same accident).  The truth is that over a year after the tragedy no one has healed.  Forgiveness and coming to terms escapes everyone, and Amanda remains crippled by guilt.

The story is a bit slow to start and it ends in a maddeningly inconclusive way.  In between, it suffers from an overabundance of characters and storylines.  But it is nonetheless outstanding for its subtlety and complexity.  That the conclusion leaves much unsolved is an acknowledgement of the complicated emotions portrayed within.  The overall effect is dreary and not particularly affirming, but I found it realistic.  Amanda's character, despite her infidelity, is sympathetic and believable as she lies trapped in her attempts to "fix" the people around her to no avail.

The Pretty App, by Katie Sise

Every year, the Public Company has released a must-have app.  This year it's the Pretty App, which will help choose the most physically attractive girl in the United States.  Blake wants to win so bad!  She figures that, given her ability to alienate friends and her lack of academic achievement, her looks are basically all she has left.  But as she rises through the ranks of the contest, she discovers that there's a lot more resting on the results than her own self-esteem.

Ostensibly a sequel to The Boyfriend App, this story reunites some of the characters from that novel and sends them on a new adventure.  The message is largely the same:  building faith in yourself and rejecting exploitative technology.  It's a message with a sledgehammer (even teens won't need it laid on this heavy).

The story is entertaining enough, although the romance didn't really take off (and perhaps that was for the best?).  Blake seems a bit uneven -- starting overly shallow and discovering her virtuous side too quickly.  Not an appealing character in the first book, she is not much of a hook for the second.  So, not much of a character study, but the pace is brisk and there isn't a dull moment.

Forget Tomorrow, by Pintip Dunn

In this innovative dystopian novel (part one of a presumed trilogy), seventeen year olds receive a "future memory" that tells them who they will become.  This then determines the education and opportunities that they will receive for the rest of their lives.  But when Callie receives her memory, it spells out that she will kill her sister.  To prevent her from doing so, she is detained as an "aggressive" and a predicted criminal.  But with the help of a sympathetic guard and a resistance underground, she escapes.  Fate, however, is a tricky thing and the farther she tries to get away from her future, the more she finds herself drawn back to it.

There are lots of fascinating ideas like the "future memories" and some lovely mixing of realistic and science fiction settings, but I found the novel hard to track (and wildly implausible at several points).  Much of the reason for this is because Dunn doesn't make much of an effort to tie all of her ideas together.  There's plenty of action but it doesn't really lead to anything.  And novel concepts - while often fascinating -- aren't actually explored or developed.  One potential explanation is that this installment is merely intended as exposition (with the ideas returned to and developed later). But I still would have preferred a more organic connection of characters and milieus.

Silence, by Deborah Lytton

Stella is focused on pursuing her dream of a professional musical theater career.  Only a sophomore, she's landed the lead in her school's production of West Side Story.  She's also attracted the attention of the male lead.  Stella and her BFF Lily are well on their way to popularity.  But despite it all, she can't help but notice the gentle beauty of shy, stammering Hayden.  He's mocked for his speech impediment (and even she cringes when listening to him), but there's something about him that nonetheless catches her eye.

Then, a tragic accident leaves Stella deaf and unable to sing in the musical.  And in her new found state, everything has changed.  She hopes to eventually regain her hearing with an implant, but in the mean time, her loss gives her time to refocus her priorities, which she does with Hayden's help.  She discovers that, in silence, everything becomes clear.

A sweet romance, which is surprisingly understated for the material it covers.  From the tragedy of Stella's injury to Hayden's dark history, there is plenty of heavy potential here, but Lytton doesn't explore it very thoroughly.  Stella tells us that she's upset, but we don't dwell on it for long.  Hayden has ghosts in his closet but even a potentially charged reunion with his estranged mother is oddly flat. This approach saps much of the dramatic potential of the story and the novel largely runs out of steam, ending with a hundred pages or more of flowery prose as Lytton has less and less to say.  The result sounds like Stella's diary (in an embarrassingly melodramatic adolescent way) and not really in a way that adolescents actually think.  They looooooove each other, but there is not much honest emotion here.  By the end, rather than feeling close, this over-the-top angsting just left me bored.  A great start

Not If I See You First, by Eric Lindstrom

"Not if I see you first!" was what Parker always said to her best friend Scott with when they said goodbye.  Since Parker had been blind for years (the result of a car accident that also took the life of her mother), it was more of a joke between them than a threat.  But after Scott betrayed her, she shut him out of her life, determined to not ever have anything to do with him again.

Parker is a fighter with a fierce set of principles.  It got her through learning to cope with her vision loss.  It gets her through the challenges of practicing long-distance running.  And it's getting her through the more recent loss of her father to an apparent suicide.  But some struggles are impossible to overcome and some forms of blindness affect even the sighted.  When Scott reappears in her life, Parker's attempts to keep everything ordered and together falls apart.

Despite what sounds formulaic, this book surprises.  Just when you think you know the story, Lindstrom takes it someplace else.  I liked being kept on my toes, but there were other things that bothered me.  There is a lot going on in the story.  In addition to her blindness, recent loss of her father, and the reappearance of Scott, there is an aborted relationship with another runner, squabbles with her cousin, and various drams with her friends.  I found that a bit annoying as the story grew hard to track and there were a lot of characters in it. But it was also nice when things happened that seemed more real for avoiding stereotypes.  There's no real resolution in the story either, which will drive some folks batty!

Unidentified Suburban Object, by Mike Jung

Being the only Asian-American in her school draws Chloe Cho a lot of unwanted attention.  And it annoys her to no end that people think she's Chinese or Japanese, or think nothing of spouting cultural stereotypes ("oh, you must be so smart!" etc.) about her.  But more maddening is the way that her parents keep dodging her questions about life back in Korea.  Why won't they answer her questions?

In seventh grade, Chloe's new social studies teacher turns out to actually be Korean as well.  Chloe finally has a way to get answers to her questions!  But what she finds out isn't exactly what she was expecting.  And the revelation about her origins shifts everything that Chloe thought she knew about herself.

An unusual book that, for its first half, plays as a typical celebration-of-diversity/self-discovery story, full of sharp observations of the way that well-meaning people can say terribly thoughtless racist things.  The book could very well have stayed that way and been a darling of librarians seeking to flesh out their middle reader diversity offerings.  Chloe's struggles are quite enlightening and her strong personality makes her appealing in dealing with them. 

But then, at almost exactly the half-way point, the books takes a very abrupt turn.  I don't want to give away any spoilers so I won't reveal what sort of shift takes place, but it pulls the story out of realism and into science fiction.  In doing so, the book stands out as a really unique offering.  But I'm less keen on the result.  Unexpected plot twists need good follow-up and it really seemed like Jung didn't know where to take it.  The result is that the book coasts to the end.  Overall, it's clever but didn't really develop its gimmick.


[I received an Advanced Reviewer's Copy of this book from the publisher in exchange for an honest review.  The book is scheduled for release on April 26th.]

Everything, Everything, by Nicola Yoon

Eighteen year-old Madeline has spent the vast majority of her life inside her hermetically-sealed house.  She's been diagnosed with a rare disease that makes her immune deficient.  Exposed to the outside world, she would probably die.  Inside and protected, her life is quiet but lonely.  She has forgone hope of having any significant connection with the outside.

But then a new family moves in next door and they have a boy her age.  Seeing him stirs curiosity and feelings that she didn't know where even present to be stirred.  And with some encouragement from her nurse, she reaches out to this stranger.  The results are unexpected and change her life in previously unimaginable ways.

Told in a surprisingly effective and complementary mixture of prose, verse, and artwork, the novel is a unique document.  And yet, it has so much more going for it.  The story is touching.  The characters are moving and enchanting.

The narrative is complex, even as the writing is simple.  Ostensibly, this is a story of a sick girl being coaxed out of her shell and discovering a bit more of the world.  But the story on the surface is only an analogy for the inner journey that Madeline undertakes and it deals with the more complicated feelings of first love, trust, and risk taking.  I was a bit disappointed by the plot twist towards the end that sent the story down to earth.  But I still found the overall experience lyrical and enchanting.  This is truly a gorgeous and special book!

Believarexic, by J. J. Johnson

At age 15, Jennifer convinces her parents that she needs to be committed to an inpatient facility to treat her eating disorder.  And while she has lots of expectations for how the process will go (largely fed by pop culture depictions of anorexia and bulimia), the real experience quickly diverges away from her preconceptions.  What she finds is a mixture of helpful and destructive caregivers and fellow patients who can be good friends or bitter enemies (or both!).  She knows that the key is "sticking to the program" but the challenges to her plan come from many unexpected places.

Based loosely on the author's real-life experience, I appreciated the honesty and the realism of the story.  As well, the way that Johnson has subverted a number of common tropes (in particular, the helpful nurse/doctor) by depicting a ward where nurses and patients are all flawed in their own ways is particularly interesting. 

Johnson makes an unusual decision to veer away from describing much of her heroine's mindset.  There are brief mentions of Jennifer's feelings of being overweight, but her mental state plays a very minor part in the story.  There are also numerous clues about the family, social and even biological reasons for Jennifer's disorder, but nothing is definitively stated about why she struggles with food consumption.  Rather than describe or even explain what having an eating disorder is like, Johnson focuses on the specifics of treatment.

The book also has some unusual literary elements.  It begins in third-person free verse (for its admission and stage 1 sections), which is at times quite awkward, and then switches to first person prose for the remainder of the story.  Type fonts also change throughout the novel.  The author Q &A at the end of the novel never mentions the shifts (they are obviously intended for some sort of purpose, but what?).

In sum, a very readable book which leaves many things unsaid and unexplained.

What We Left Behind, by Robin Talley

In this NA novel, Toni and Gretchen were an inseparable couple in high school.  And, like many other high school sweethearts, they promised each other that they would stay together even when they went off to college.  They even intended to attend schools in the same town (Harvard for Toni and BU for Gretchen), although it didn't quite work out that way.  At the last minute, Gretchen decided to go to NYU instead.  But even with that last minute shift, they agreed that they would still see each other every weekend.

As you can probably guess, even those revised plans fall through.  Course work and social activities make it hard to get together.  The two girls find themselves drifting apart.  Toni finds friends at Harvard that allow her to explore her burgeoning transexualism and her struggles with gender identity.  Gretchen, feeling Toni slip away, tries to hold on tighter by throwing herself at her lover (which only drives Toni farther away).

The story itself is not full of much suspense, but it's all about the journey.  What makes the novel unique is its focus on gender queer relationships.  Or rather, how relationships fare when one of the parties starts to question their gender identity.  Doing so in the context of a young lesbian relationship is a further twist.  The novel explores many different topics, from Toni's obsessive search for pronouns to the ways that both gays and straights discriminate against the gender queer to what it means to have the person you love change their gender.  Not all of these concepts are new, but their treatment here will open your eyes.

While I was impressed by the story, I was less taken with the characters.  Gretchen was too weak and self-sacrificing.  But Toni annoyed me far more.  Toni's endless experimentation with language and her unwillingness to commit (combined with her demands that everyone had to respect her indecision) just came off as precious.  And there's no way around Toni's privileged background (a point that really gets driven home when she has to briefly consider the idea that her parents might pull out her financing and she might not be able to continue her pricey Ivy League education).  It's not that she's spoiled, but simply that she lives a gilded life.  The far more common situations that young transexuals find themselves in (poverty, danger, and insecurity) are only briefly mentioned and don't threaten Toni's exploration.

If You're Lucky, by Yvonne Prinz

People thought of Georgia's brother Lucky as blessed.  Gregarious and loved by almost everyone, he had an amazing talent for cheating death up until when he actually died in a surfing accident.  At the funeral, Georgia meets one of Lucky's buddies named Fin.  Afterwards, while he's never visited before, Fin decides to stay around and settle in.  Soon, he's working Lucky's old job and dating Lucky's girlfriend.  Georgia smells a rat.  And as Georgia digs into Fin's murky history, she uncovers a series of suspicious mysteries in Fin's life.  In the end, she suspects that Lucky's death wasn't an accident after all and that Fin had something to do with it.

But there's a problem:  Georgia suffers from schizophrenia and she has a history of paranoid delusions.  As a result, no one believes her as she starts to express her suspicions.  And even she doesn't know whether to trust her perceptions.

An interesting psychological thriller, following a heroine who becomes a steadily less reliable narrator as the story progresses.  This isn't fine literature and the writing and the characters seemed merely functional, but it's an entertaining story with a brisk plot.

One, by Sarah Crossan

Grace and Tippi are literally as close as two sisters can be.  They're conjoined twins.  And while the doctors never expected them to live past their second year, they're now in their Junior year.  Their lives are full of special challenges, most notably their difficulty at fitting in, but they both have no desire to change.  With the help of two new friends (the wild Yasmeen and her friend Jon), the girls finally have a social life and (for Grace) a chance at something more.  But then tragedy strikes and the twins face a challenge for survival.

Written in free verse, the novel (despite its many pages) is a brisk read.  That verse isn't particularly stand out, but the subject matter is riveting.  It's not really a spoiler to say that it ends in heartbreak (the lives of conjoined twins are rarely happy ones) but Crossan tells their story with dignity and Grace's voice is compelling.  The classic gold standard for a novel for me is whether the book is readable, full of interesting and sympathetic characters, and whether I learn something from it (with bonus points for a weepy and life-affirming ending).  This novel delivers all of the above.

Future Perfect, by Jen Larsen

How far would you go to realize your academic dreams?  And would you reach for them even at the expense of your pride and self-respect?

Every year, Ashley's grandmother gives her a card for her birthday which promises her a fantastic gift in exchange for her losing weight.  One year, it was a trip to Disneyland if she would lose fifty pounds.  Another year, it was a new car for losing eighty pounds.  It's never worked.  Ashley has never accepted the offers because she doesn't see any reason to lose weight -- yes, she's a large person, but she's content in her skin and happy with who she is.

Now, in Ashley's senior year, her grandmother has raised the stakes:  if Ashley gets accepted, her grandmother will pay her tuition at Harvard for four years.  It's a dream as Ashley has the grades to get in but doesn't have the resources to cover the costs.  The catch is that her grandmother's demand this time is that Ashley undergo gastric bypass surgery.

The premise is fascinating but ultimately flawed.  Any protagonist worth reading about will ultimately make the right decision, so it is really a matter of waiting until Ashley does so.  And the plausibility of the grandmother's character, so cruel and insensitive that she feels justified in ruining her granddaughter's self-esteem and endangering her life, is hard to swallow.

The writing suffers from a different problem:  extremely uneven pacing.  For the most part, the story follows a familiar dramatic arc with familiar settings (school, part-time job, home) and a story that traces Ashley's personal growth as she struggles to make her decision.  But we digress from time to time to odd settings where the action slows down like molasses and becomes dreamy (in a way that I can most easily compare with the way that the mind wanders on drugs -- a literary high?).  I don't know quite what to make of these digressions but they ultimately don't add anything to the story (consider, for example, the vignette at the art exhibit in the Tenderloin) so they could have been jettisoned.  Subplots about Ashley's transgendered friend and another friend who runs away are only loosely tied in to the story and seem wasted.

Apple and Rain, by Sarah Crossan

Apple's grandmother is terribly strict and Apple is convinced that her life would be better if only her mother came back to take care of her instead.  But after eleven years, she's pretty much given up hope that her Mum will ever come back, until she in fact does!  At first, it is a dream come true, but as time goes by Apple learns that her mother isn't all that Apple has imagined.  And that family is often a very complicated thing.

Covering fairly familiar ground, including my evergreen favorite (not!) of child abandonment, Crossan still manages to pump some fresh life into this.  Apple's resourceful and pretty good at standing up for herself.  And the other kids are similarly useful, from little sister Rain to their geeky neighbor Del.  And even grandma has some depth on her.  It's less easy to see much in Apple and Rain's mum, but that may be the point -- being so blinded by wishful thinking, they can't see their mother's flaws.

Goodbye Stranger, by Rebecca Stead

Bridge, Tab, and Emily are best friends who never fight, but when Em starts trading photographs of herself with a boy, her friends become worried about her.  Meanwhile, Sherm is struggling with dealing with his grandfather, who has moved out on grandma.  And Sherm and Bridge are toying with starting a relationship of their own.  And Bridge still occasionally has trouble coping with the aftermath of a horrible accident she was in when she was eight.  And through it all, a mysterious older girl is hiding out at a coffee shop, afraid to be seen now that she's been completely humiliated.

This mash-up is basically the story that Stead is telling in her latest novel Goodbye Stranger, which explores concepts of friendship.  It's a difficult story to track and I'm never a fan of that sort of thing.  Individual characters are compelling, but jumping around so often when the relationships between them are less than clear is frustrating.  By the end, I had to sit back and just let the story take me where it wanted to go, but I didn't really follow it and that left me feeling distant from the novel.  In sum, it's pretty, but hard to invest in.  I'm reminded of Lynne Rae Perkins' Criss Cross, a similarly hyped YA novel that I found nearly unreadable (Goodbye Stranger, however, is better written!).

Love, Lucas, by Chantele Sedgwick

After Oakley's brother dies from bone cancer, she and her Mom go to live with her Aunt Jo on the California beach for a few months.  Oakley grieves for her brother and spends her days reading a journal that he left for her.  But she also starts to rebuild her life and meets Carson, a local surfer.  Carson helps her to escape from her grief and naturally enough she falls hard for him.  But is it too soon to be entering a romantic relationship?  And what happens when Oakley and her mother return home?

Decent, but not terribly surprising, romance (with the exception of a big plot twist towards the end that provides the dramatic climax that Sedgwick seemed to be struggling with creating).  The ending is not a complete cheat, but I would have been happier with something less abrupt and more organic to the overall story.  And that pretty much sums up my take on the novel overall: nothing terrible, but nothing really outstanding either.  I didn't find myself sucked into any of the characters or their traumas (and the dead brother's journal is surprisingly ineffective!), but I was content to keep reading and following their travails.

Complete non-sequitur:  I loved the gratuitous mention of both barnacles and (twice!) Phase Ten.