An inspirational story in verse about a neurodivergent girl in the process of self-discovery. The verse itself is not particularly extraordinary, but the choice to write this book in verse is brilliant as it captures the process of Selah's inner dialog much better than prose would have done.
A complex emotional story that hints at much more than it says, Rory and Liv are anything but the cold girls that they projected to the outside world. In fact, it was the shared knowledge that there are these strong current underneath that bonded them together. It was also a relationship that was coming to an end as the girls were about to graduate and move on. Neither girl could ever hope to maintain the facades and there are moments when each of them crack, but by dying Liv avoided ever having to face those feelings as much as Rory ends up doing (on her own).
The story starts strong and quickly gets us deep into the hidden world that these two girls share, but I found the middle section a hard slog. With little clear sense of where we were going or why we were going there, the multiple characters and complex relationships between them become a chore to keep straight. The constant time shifts become trying as well as I had to keep reminding myself what was happening at a point of time we haven't rveeisted for the past fifty pages. It's only towards the end, that the story's pace picks up. An end point becomes visible and I tuned back in. I think the story would improve with a re-reading and if you enjoy a book that you can get more out of with a repeat then this might be for you.
Practically no one has any interest in the idea, but Natty is determined to make it happen and through persitance and stubboness she manhandles a band of skeptical kids and demoralized adults to come together. But is being relentlessly positive a good thing and can it really change anything? Natty is convinced it will all work out, as long as she can just keep a sunny outlook. For whether that is true or not, you'll have to read the book.
There is certain level of frustration with a story that never actually resolves, but my biggest issue with this book was the flimsyness of the premise. From nearly the first page, just about everyone is pointing out to Natty what a foolhardy exercise it is. Her unwillingness to accept any truth in that isn't all that interesting. That doesn't leave much to grow on and the conclusion is largely inevitable. And when the refusal to acknowledge that bad things are happening causes Natty to gaslight her friends, it doesn't make her look very kind. There's not much learned in the end and not really a lesson worth learning.
She is suffering from Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID), a condition characterized by having vivid alternate personalities that manifest in a person and are usually formed as a coping mechanism for an early childhood trauma. The actual particulars of Dylan's trauma take a while to be uncovered and the real itself is anticlimactic. The story focuses instead on Dylan's growing understanding of her condition and her learning to cope with it. Unfortunately, this part of the book (roughly the middle) is also the weakest section.
I was really captivated by the story from the start and reminded of how much I enjoyed novels dealing with mental health. There's a compelling mystery with all sorts of interesting elements that are slowly revealed. Up to the diagnosis, this is a real page turner. But once we know what is happening, the pacing really slows down and becomes this big educational text where we're introduced to Dylan's "system" and her "alters" who "front" for her from time to time because of various conditions. Not much actually happens in these 150 or so pages beyond a bunch of repetitive and strikingly boring conversations. It's only when the culprit (a completely new character never mentioned prior to that point of the story) is revealed that the pace picks up again. But here McLaughlin is at a loss as to how to portray the moment of confrontation and the last sixty pages reads more like a lengthy postscript than a climax. There is no dramatic conclusion. In fact, there really is no conclusion at all.
A fascinating topic but the presentation sucks the life out of the story. It starts strong but then treads water, before dying at the end with a whimper.
Enterprising Lila doesn't let this hold her back. She marches down to the bank and tries to apply for a loan for the band program. She gets turned down, but she comes across a strange box lying on the floor of the lobby. The box turns out to contain a magical being who calls herself Felise and brings good luck for a week to the bearer of the box. Lila doesn't know what to do with her good fortune but she manages to spin it into a number of small successes, raising money for the band program.
Then, just when things are really starting to look good, the owner of the box comes looking for it and wants it back!
A lovely, albeit heavy-handed, middle grade reader story about the magic of friendships and self-determination. The magic that Felise brings, in contrast, is downplayed and much of Lila's good fortune is attributed to Lisa herself, Lila exhibits an infectious combination of bravery, compassion, and good ideas that makes her a perfect friend. And while that point is sometimes thrust a bit too forcefully in the reader's face, the book is a pleasing combination of a fun story and positive messages. Having enjoyed her YA novels, it's nice to see her doing equally well with a younger demographic.
Esther is a sixteen year-old studying to become a medic and, if she can pass her exam, win a coveted slot to study on the mainland. She and her boyfriend Alex are loyal citizens, but they find themselves dragged into the conflict as the land forces ratchet up their suppression and start implementing their genocide.
There is some elaborate world building but the book doesn't waste much time before diving into the thick of the action. Told in alternating chapters by three narrators -- Esther, her older sister's boyfriend Nik (who works for the rebellion), and Hadley (the leader of the government forces charged with controlling the boat) -- it maintains a breathless pace through over 400 pages. It's a fast read, but doesn't leave much time for sorting out the characters or for the reader to establish much attachment to them. Rather, the story screams out "film option!" and seems designed for a visceral and visually immersive adventure. It would probably make a great film, but as a dystopian novel it's fairly average.
Laika is a stray, a "cold dog" in her words. Very much unlike the "warm dogs" who have warm house to live in and food to eat. Instead, Laika must survive on scraps and her street smarts to get by. But a careless lapse leads to her capture and enrollment in a program to train canines to undergo the rigor of space travel. She excels at it despite her distrust of human and other dogs.
Nina is a proverbial "cold girl" whose very best friend has abandoned her by defecting along with her family to America. because of the family's betrayal, Nina is told that she must denounce her friend in order to protect her own family. She struggles with the idea and is horrified to find the things that are being said about her friend. Confused by the way her fellow students and teachers are betraying their ideals, she seeks solace in the presence of animals and bonds with Laika. The two grow close and, when Nina discovers that Laika won't be able to return from her trip, Nina becomes convinced that she must do something to save her best friend.
One can question the wisdom of writing a children's book about a girl and her slated-for-death best friend. The true story of Laika is one that sits uncomfortably in history and there will be many people who would simply never read this book on principle. Shepherd makes this much worse in two ways: by developing a strong emotional story between the girl and the dog and by telling half the story through Laika's voice. The chapters told from Laika's trusting point of view -- including her final moments on the rocket -- take a rather strong stomach (or severe detachment) to read. Shepherd makes the argument in her afterward that the story, while tragic, needs to be told because of Laika'a major contribution to science and the nobility of her sacrifice, but one might counter that argument by pointing out that Laika never actually chose to make the sacrifice so what we are basically witnessing is a living creature being murdered.
Setting those ethical questions aside, the story felt uneven. The story of Laika and Nina opening up to each other was lovely, but the political elements of the story are half-heartedly developed. The bullying at school is poorly explained. An over the top attempt at last minute sabotage rings untrue and largely undermines the emotional seriousness of the story. One almost wishes that these diversions had been skipped altogether.
So, she plays thing safe. She has a crush on Taz Fenwick's "perfect proportions" that seems unlikely to ever be consummated, which is just as well since she's still a bit afraid of boys. She has a small group of friends. She helps her parents out at the family's yarn shop, helping people fix their knitting mistakes. Her two loves -- math and knitting -- provide comforting boundaries.
Two things shake up that comfortable world. First, the arrival of the pregnant girl (the granddaughter of a customer) challenges Bliss to accept that some problems are out of her league. But it is accidentally eavesdropping of a conversation between a classmate's mother and her lover that presents a quandary for Bliss. Should she tell her friend about the infidelity or is it kinder to mind her own business? And do the rules change when the friend becomes a romantic interest?
Interspersed with lots of knitting references, this novel gently explores Bliss's growing awareness of life's imperfections. At times perhaps unrealistically mature, Bliss still has enough room for growth to teach the us a few things. The positive supportive atmosphere of the story and the realistically unresolved ending leaves the reader a satisfactory conclusion.
Miranda promises that she can help Lena break the curse in exchange for Lena's help in helping bring down an evil tyrant who holds sway over the city of Gather deep within the Silence -- a feat which requires killing or setting free a sleeping princess protected within a castle surrounded by impenetrable briars. But it quickly becomes apparent that Miranda is not telling the truth and, as various adventures unfold, she's far from unique. Just about everyone in this story has hidden agendas and is hiding something. Lena has to figure out who to trust and often must take temporary advantage from unreliable allies.
Featuring dragons, wolves, blood magic, curses, prophecy, and the rather enigmatic Silence itself, Briar Girls is a densely written, fast-paced fantasy adventure. It sacrifices a great deal of character development in the process. For while we get a chance in the beginning to meet Lena and to develop her rebellious and largely disobedient personality, most of the other characters are underdeveloped. A sexual encounter between Lena and a boy named Alaric is sweet but strangely clinical. A professed love with Miranda goes largely unconsummated, but does feature some brief moments of jealousy that suggest at feelings that are never quite allowed to develop. As far as side characters, most of all I enjoyed the dragons, who were delightfully sadistic (as well as being snobby epicureans). A story like this lives and dies on the action and the world building, both of which are stellar so any flaws in the characters can be overlooked safely.
But before any sort of romance can develop, the two boys are forced to flee when more hostile invaders arrive on the scene. The two of them set out roughly following Andrew's original plan, heading south to the remains of Washington DC. And when things don't work out, they then go down to Florida, encountering both friend and foe. Along the way, they find vivid examples of how different choices have fared for the varied survivors.
While the writing is decent and the characters well-developed, the author really struggled to come up with a story. The bulk of the novel is just a series of encounters with strangers stringed together. Some go well and some go poorly, but they don't add up to a story and do get very repetitive. The overall goal of the trip, which might have formed a true plot, keeps shifting. It feels like Brown just fell in love with the idea of a post-apocalyptic survival story between two (maybe) gay boys. However, even the romance is not really consummated and notably lacking in any heat.
In the author's notes at the end, Brown attests that the story's similarities to recent events is largely coincidental. It was originally drafted in 2015 (and thus predates COVID) but it's hard not to draw parallels.
None of this plays out realistically, but it's a whole lot of fun and all in service to a good cause: addressing bullying and racism. At first, Olivia and her friends are all focused on getting revenge and striking back, but as those strategies largely fail, they make the important realization that the best way to confront power is to render it irrelevant. A society based on fear and conformity can't survive when its values are ignored. Chen never draws the analogy out to anything greater than Olivia's school, but the novel's epilogue all but connects the dots to a challenge to our larger society.
The character building seemed weak to me and the love stories lacked much fizz, but I enjoyed the story --in the beginning because it was fun and then in the end because it had a lot of useful advice for young people who find themselves too wrapped up in social media and trying to please everyone around them.
Dex and his mother have recently moved to the area so Mom can work on the pipelines. Drowning in medical bills, this is the first real job that she's had in years. So while Dex isn't entirely unfamiliar with the environmental damage that fracking causes, his family has different priorities. In any case, what happens here is of little concern to him. He's signing up for the Army. His mother doesn't approve, but he knows that serving will get him out of his mom's hair, give him an income, and send him to college.
The two of them, in sum, should have no reason to connect. Viv hates what Dex's mom does for a living. Dex, with his eyes set on the Army, has already checked out. But as two outsiders, they become attracted to each other and eventually form an alliance to stand up for themselves and their beliefs.
Despite the attention paid to the environmental devastation being caused in West Virginia (and the author's loving depictions of the natural beauty of Appalachia), this is not solely a screed for environmentalism. Rather, it is a tale of two young people emerging from their shells. Viv and Dex both come from families dealing with loss (Viv's mother is dead and Dex's father is a struggling alcoholic whom was kicked out of the house). As a result, their single-parent households fail to provide much of a role model for moving forward. That they each do so is ultimately quite satisfying.
Seeming unrelated, things start to change for her when she rescues a bird in the woods. He's a prince and he wants to reward her for her bravery and kindness by making Eren his champion. What does a bird's champion do? They fight "frost fangs" -- wolf-like creatures that feed on people's insecurities.
It turns out that these frost fangs have been waging a war and the birds have been the sole defense, but their strength is diminishing. If no one does anything, the frost fangs will take over and humanity will be lost to its insecurities. This being a middle reader, everything will fall on Erne, Alex, and a few of their friends to save the world (or at least their school). The showdown takes place at the school dance, where Eren must first overcome her own fears and anxieties and then convince her peers to do likewise.
I found it a clever fantasy novel with some heavy-handed messages about building up self-confidence and learning to turn off voices of doubt in your head. There's some messy stuff about whether Erne is "aromantic" or simply not ready for romantic relationships -- given her age, in my opinion, the difference is unimportant and distracting. The far stronger message is that everyone has doubts about themselves, but it is important to not let them paralyze you from living your life and standing up for what you believe in. It's not a new message, but the packaging here is quite clever and the story is memorable.
Sage has landed herself an ultra prestigious internship with Dr. Reese, a leading oncologist, at her research laboratory in Amsterdam. She'll have to take care of the doctor's three-year-old son during the day and do a lot of drudge work, but in exchange, she'll get to attend a conference in Berlin and make a lot of connections. There's just one catch: she must stay away from Dr. Reese's gorgeous eighteen year-old son, Ryland. You already know how this is going to turn out....
Ryland and Sage spend the summer going from hatred to reluctant coworkers to secret lovers (although the relationship doesn't move much further along than furtive kissing). Along the way, they visit all of the sites, including two of my favorites: the Zoo and the Kattenkabinet (Amsterdam's museum of feline art). There's tastings of all the local culinary favorites and even a (slightly ridiculous) drop in at a coffee shop.
On the whole, there was nothing particularly objectionable about the book, but it felt like a pale imitation of its predecessor. Sage is not nearly as interesting as Emmie from that book, lacking the compelling backstory which made rooting for Emmie more rewarding. Sage, in contrast, is a grind with a serious work-life imbalance. If you haven't read Hot British Boyfriend, start there and then pick this one up afterwards and see if you agree that we might have been better off with a one-and-done.
While well-written, the pacing is slow and the themes could easily have been further developed. We're never exactly clear what happened to Larkin back at her school, Meanwhile, the mother and her story doesn't really move beyond a brief recollection (and an even briefer dialog). Mills does a fine job in showing us how sad and depressed Larkin is and in capturing her panic attacks. However, lacking the context deprives us of much of the punch or the necessary reader empathy to make it be something dramatic.
Weston is a double amputee -- the result of an untreated infection from an accident three years prior. Through flashbacks, he describes the process he went through to come back, working through not only his disability but also his anger at his fate -- knowledge that he applies to Tessa's situation. However, he has an advantage: she doesn't know he's an amputee.
Over the next hundred days, through patience and stubborn persistence, Weston works through Tessa's barriers and gradually helps her deal with her blindness. However, he knows that one day soon she'll get her sight back and then she'll see him as he truly is. And he fears what she will do.
A terribly sweet and utterly gratuitous romance. Weston is pretty much the Perfect Boy -- kind, considerate, generous, with just a small amount of naughtiness (he gets into fist fights). He adores Tessa. And of course, he has nothing better to do than dote on her for three months. Needless to say, we know that his silly fears about her hating him when she sees his disability are nothing big, so we're flipping the pages waiting for that swoon-worthy happily-ever-after kiss. And this is the kind of story that delivers just what the readers want. In sum, pure unadulterated literary junk food. Grab a pint of Ben & Jerry's or a package of Oreos and dig in!
