Sci Fi Friday Review: Invisible Sun by David Macinnis Gill

Whoa...new look for Blogger...trippy.

But! I'm not back to talk about blog service layouts, I'm back to talk about a new book! Yaaaaaaaay! Invisible Sun by David Macinnis Gill is the sequel to 2010's Black Hole Sun, which was easily one of my top books of the year. The combination of humor and awesome sci-fi action left me begging for more.

Unfortunately, Invisible Sun wasn't what I was hoping for.

The team of Durango and Vienne (and Mimi, the AI in Durango's head) are back, fighting against the crime lord Lyme by keeping sensitive documents out of the man's hands. The book starts with just another day in the life of these dalit Regulators - storm in, blow some stuff up, and escape with guns blazing. Like the most action-packed of escapes, it's always a narrow one, but Durango and Vienne are the best at what they do.

While escaping, Durango and Vienne end up in the neighborhood of where she grew up and Durango, still not entirely sure to do about his feelings for Vienne, is terrified of meeting her family. This bit of domestic comedy is the last lighthearted moment in the book, and we've barely scratched the surface.

After Durango escaped his clutches yet again, Lyme devises a plan using Archibald, his reluctant toady, to capture the pain-in-the-ass Regulator. Archibald, son of a powerful CEO on a planet that is ruled by corporations, doesn't take kindly to being ordered around, but does relish the idea of raining death and destruction down upon the helpless population in hopes of drawing out Durango and Vienne, protectors of the poor and downtrodden of Mars (as seen with the miners in Black Hole Sun).

The plan succeeds.

And this is when the book started to take a nose dive for me.

Because while trying to protect the people Archibald is set on torturing, Durango and Vienne are split up. Durango escapes by making his captors think he's dead, but Vienne has no such luck and is taken prisoner. Where she is sadistically essentially stuffed in a refrigerator in order to give Durango a quest for the rest of the novel.

Vienne was an incredible bad-ass in Black Hole Sun. A big deal was made in both that book and this book about her self-sufficiency, her battle-savvy, and her strength and pride. And here we see her maliciously beaten and tortured (with a weird sexual vibe every once in awhile that made it seem quite rape-y)...with little to no pay off in the end. Black Hole Sun wrapped up its story neatly while leaving lots of room for the sequel. Invisible Sun ends in a big ol' cliffhanger with very few conclusions.

I don't end up buying a lot of books - there just isn't room in my apartment for every book I'd like to read. However, after being gifted an iPad for Christmas, I've been slowly but surely filling it up. I bought Invisible Sun with little hesitation for my iPad because I loved Black Hole Sun so much. I think I'm going to go back to my previous rule that the iPad gets loaded up with books that are old favorites rather than new books, because it's so disappointing to have spent the cash on a book that just fell apart so spectacularly. And with an ebook, I can't even pawn it off on a friend or charity!

Another annoyance that's small in the long run, but should be brought up for anyone that still wants to give this one a chance: there's almost no re-capping of Black Hole Sun here. I've said before I know it's a delicate balance between boring your experienced readers and drawing in the new ones, but every time something about Durango's past was mentioned, I was wracking my brain trying to remember if this was just refreshing something we'd learned in Black Hole Sun, or if this was supposed to be an exciting new revelation.

With two very successful and enjoyable books already in his repertoire, I'm not going to write-off Gill as an author just yet. However, I'll probably skip the eventual third book in this series and wait for Gill to pick up a new story. In the mean time, I highly recommend going back and re-reading Soul Enchilada for a hilarious Faustian tale, or Black Hole Sun for some awesome SF.

Review: Don't Stop Now by Julie Halpern

Julie Halpern totally won me over with Into the Wild Nerd Yonder, so even though Don't Stop Now didn't promise me nerdy D&D hijinks, I still needed to check it out. There may be no D&D, but I love road trips, so I thought this would be worth a shot - and I was totally right.

When Lillian's sorta-friend, Penny, leaves her a weird voice mail at 4:30 in the morning, Lil doesn't think much of it. "I did it?" What does that even mean? But then her parents started calling. And then the cops. Apparently Penny has been kidnapped?

Except Lil is pretty sure Penny faked it - she kind of mentioned that once. And Lil has a feeling she may have run away to Oregon. So she calls up her BFF (and major-crush) Josh, and the two set out on a road trip from Chicago to Portland with nothing but Josh's dad's credit card and the clothes on their backs. Along the way the dynamic duo stop at all the great tourist-attractions of fly-over country - the Badlands, Wall Drug, the Corn Palace, etc. And Lil keeps hoping that this trip, probably their last great adventure before she moves away for college and Josh starts pursuing his music career in earnest, will be the trip that makes Josh see her as more than just a girl friend.

In between the chapters of Lil and Josh's antics, we also get short, heartbreaking scenes from Penny's life over the last year or so. Glimpses of a family that uses her as nothing more than a baby sitter, and boyfriend that uses her as a doormat - and a punching bag. It's not hard to figure out why Lil might have decided to run away - but did she really fake that kidnapping?

This story is a road trip and story of friendship first and foremost - the long term friendship between Lil and Josh, as well as the lengths Lil will go to in order to help someone who didn't have a lot of options in the friend-department. The romantic angle was played just right. There's some angst here, because Lil has pretty much always loved Josh but he's never seen it, but that never overwhelms their friendship. Even when she's a little disappointed that they only literally slept together in a cozy motel bed, she still has fun with their zany road trip.

Even though for most of the story we only get small insights into Penny, I really liked her as a character, too. Who didn't have a friend/acquaintance that they knew just well enough to say "hi" to at parties and work on projects together if there was no one else in the class? And a lot of us have probably been in friendships like that where one person clearly read a lot more into it than the other did. The vignettes also painted a clear picture of why someone might stay with a boyfriend (or girlfriend) who clearly isn't right for them - who can be outright abusive. It's terrifying and played exactly right - Penny's story lends some gravitas to what would otherwise be a light romantic comedy.

Julie Halpern is two-for-two with me so far. Her characters are always dynamic, funny and honest. I can't wait to see what she comes out with next!

Review: Bitter Melon by Cara Chow

Speech geeks unite!

Debate gets brought up all the time as a geeky competitive high school activity, but I never did it. Because I was caught up in something even geekier: forensics, aka competitive public speaking. So when I saw that Frances joins the speech team in this book, I knew I had to read it, because speech geeks don't get nearly enough love.


Frances's life revolves around her mother. Her mother, an immigrant from China, demands utter perfection from her daughter, sending her to an academically challenging high school to ensure Frances will get into a prestigious college with plenty of scholarships to propel her through medical school, after which Frances will be able to take care of her.

The only problem in this scenario - Frances isn't positive that she wants to follow her mother's map for her life. When Frances is accidentally assigned to speech class rather than calculus, at first she figures she'll just sit in the class for a week or two and then transfer to the right one before the deadline. But as the hip and cool teacher recognizes an innate speaking ability in Frances, she ends up sticking around - the first secret she's kept from her mother. Frances knows on the one hand she is being ungrateful - her mother truly has made great sacrifices, working long hours in order to afford Frances' tuition, not to mention clothes, food and rent. But until taking this speech class, Frances has never had the opportunity to consider her own desires, and what might be driving her mother's quest for Frances' excellence. Is her mother truly concerned for Frances' future? Or merely her own?

Frances's mother isn't a nice person. This is probably an understatement. Reading the physical and, especially, the verbal abuse she puts Frances through is absolutely painful. But Chow does an excellent job of slowly revealing the abuse, as Frances's world is slowly opened through her experiences on the speech team. It's not so much that the team magically opens Frances's eyes, but rather as her teacher encourages her hidden talent, Frances begins to understand the power that words can hold.

While Frances and her mother have a very complex relationship that is the core of the novel, most of the other relationships suffer from lack of definition. The friendship between Frances and Theresa especially seems to be one of convenience, as the girls quickly befriend each other after one kind act on Theresa's part, as Frances seems to have resented the girl for years. After that the friendship's up and downs seem to be defined more by what will complicate Frances' life more than anything else. The romantic subplot also takes awhile to get going, and while her crush's personality may not be the most well developed, the details of their relationship were refreshingly authentic - overpowering deodorant, clammy hands, and sweaty outfits all called to mind my early romances more than any idealized romance novel ever could.

As a speech geek, I can totally vouch for the authenticity of the competitive aspects of the book. Frances' competitions superficially differ from how mine were set up, but different states have different rules, and of course she was competing over 10 years before I entered the high school speech scene. But there are some emotional aspects that will always ring true - and every speaker has faced terrible audience members like Frances' nemesis throughout the book! In more ways than one, the scenes of Frances' speech career are a light and necessary break from the oppressiveness of her home life.

Sci Fi Friday Review: XVI by Julia Karr

This has probably been one of my most-anticipated books of the year so far. What wasn't there to love about it? Dystopian SF that is actually feminist? So perhaps some of my ultimate disappointment comes from high expectations, but I'm pretty sure even if I'd gone in blind I would have come to a lot of the same conclusions.

All Nina Oberon wants is a totally normal, ordinary, boring life. Unfortunately, Nina is mere weeks away from turning 16 - an age all of her friends are eagerly waiting for, since they will receive their government-mandated tattoos and finally be "sex-teens," free to have sex whenever they want.

But Nina doesn't want to have sex. She doesn't even want a boyfriend. She wants to live in peace with her mom and little sister, and avoid her mom's skeevy boyfriend. But when her mother is mysteriously murdered, all of Nina's carefully laid plans are thrown out the window. With her dying breath, Nina's mother makes her promise to deliver a baby book to her father. The only problem: Nina's father died the night she was born. The truth about her father is one of many mysteries Nina must unlock, while trying to avoid her mother's evil ex, meeting a mysterious new boy, and trying to counter her best friend Sandy's increasingly sex-teen ways.

While the premise here is sound, it totally falls apart in the execution by committing one of the gravest sins in speculative fiction - failing to define the new world the readers are dumped in to. Many of the important aspects of this future society are left unexplained - most egregiously the importance of the titular XVI tattoos. Why on Earth is the government so invested in the sexual goings-on of teenage girls? And while I can easily come up with half a dozen reasons the tattoo is mandatory for girls but apparently not for boys, I'd really like to have seen at least the government cover story for the tattoo. Another under-explained point were the Female Liaison Specialists, or FeLS - we know it's really the only way for lower class girls to rise in rank and that they must be virgins, and we end up learning what the real purpose of the organization is, but the cover story is foggy.

Almost as bad, is the fact that I couldn't stand the protagonist. Nina is the worst kind of dystopian protagonist: the one that not only recognizes she lives in a dystopia, but coincidentally holds 21st century values and isn't afraid of telling us and anyone else that will listen why she is better than everyone else for her enlightened views. I don't know why she and Sandy put up with each other - Nina clearly is contemptuous of everything that Sandy finds important. Why would Sandy not only put up with that disdain, but consider Nina her best friend? Nina is also conveniently open minded about people from all classes - she doesn't have a classist bone in her body and goes out of her way to help homeless people, even when it means putting herself in great physical danger. Noble indeed, but very little textual support for having such a counter-cultural attitude.

Slang is a tricky part of any YA novel, and most SF in general, but Karr comes across as quite tone deaf when she makes one of the most-used slang words in the novel a 21st century slur against transgendered people. Really, there was no better way to refer to transportation as "transports" which is then shortened into "trannies"? It was especially disturbing when, before it was made clear what trans/trannies was short for, a character who's been in a fight is asked if he "kissed a trannie." It just made me really uncomfortable and kept pulling me out of the book (which happened quite often because damn do these kids talk about the various transportation options a lot). Please folks, if you're going to make up words for your book, do a quick Google search to make sure it's not associated with something else (do not Google "trannies" while at work - the first several hits are porn sites, which should be the first clue this wasn't the best word choice).

There's lots more I could critique here - including the mystical Asian healer stereotype and this being another entry in the trend of dystopian stories eliminating/ignoring homosexuality - but I think we'd be here all day.

The novel wraps up rather neatly, so I don't think this is going to be part of that growing trend of releasing dystopian stories in trilogies. On the one hand, there's clearly a lot of worldbuilding that could be expanded upon in a sequel, but on the other, all of the major storylines were wrapped up so neatly that there's very little actual story left.

Review: When the Stars Go Blue by Caridad Ferrer

Found via: Ari at Reading in Color

Ari has been raving about this book for months - I'm so glad I could finally get my hands on it! My reaction (spoiler alert!) isn't quite as enthusiastic as hers, but I still found it to be a worthwhile read.

Soledad Reyes knows nothing but dance. Since she first set foot in the ballet studio as a child, she's known she wants to live life on the stage - preferably as a ballerina, even though physically she's quite different from ballerina norms. But when she starts a passionate romance with Jonathan, a guy who's as passionate about music as she is about dance, Soledad wants to give his type of performance a try for a summer, and joins the exhausting and exhilarating world of competitive drum and bugle corp. The local group is putting on an ambitious adaptation of Carmen, and Soledad will be perfect for the title role.

As Soledad is drawn deeper into the drum and bugle corp, and into her relationship with Jonathan, Soledad is tired but happy. Until a handsome Spanish soccer player arrives and along with his team seems to be following Soledad's team from county fair to county fair, and Soledad's summer begins to have some eerie parallels to the opera she's starring in.

In the midst of this novel, I absolutely could not put this thing down. I was totally absorbed from page one. For one thing, Ferrer has nailed the descriptions of the thrill of performing. I was never much of a dancer, but I did musical theater for most of my life, so I definitely got Soledad's passion and need to be performing. I also liked how the romance doesn't take much time to heat up - there's no extended, frustrating flirtation here. Once Soledad and Jonathan know how the other one feels it starts getting steamy.

All through Soledad's passionate affair with Jonathan and the new world of drum and bugle corp performance, I was right there with her, soaring with her highs and absolutely crushed with her lows. Thrilled with the innocent flirtations of the handsome Spanish soccer player and crushed every time something worked to keep Soledad and Jonathan apart.

But when I finished the book, and started to reflect...it just didn't hold up. While Ferrer hits all of the emotional beats just right, and does an excellent job of describing those emotions, there are moments of more tangible actions where the description is lacking. Like I'm still not sure I totally get how drum and bugle corp works - when Jonathan shows Soledad a DVD of a previous performance, Ferrer does an excellent job of describing Soledad's emotions, to the point of not really describing what she's actually seeing!

I was also really uncomfortable Jonathan's behavior, and Soledad's overall reactions to it. Ferrer does an amazing job of showing how a passionate relationship can quickly slip into an emotionally dangerous one, but I felt Soledad was way too willing to forgive and rationalize Jonathan's behavior in the end - and I can't help but feel in the end she's setting herself up to be hurt all over again. She tells us how her new relationship has and will be different - but I never saw any clear signs that it will be.

I wasn't familiar with Carmen going into the book, and the story of the opera is also never really fleshed out, just like the world of drum and bugle corp. However when I looked up the opera on Wikipedia, it looks like Ferrer has done an amazing job weaving in parallels between Soledad's and Carmen's stories.

But there was also a lot to like here, too. I loved Soledad's confidence in her body, even as she acknowledges she's physically different from ballerina norms. Her relationship with Mamacita is beautiful, and while her dance partner Raj flirts with some fabulous stereotypes, I did like that his presence illustrated that there was some diversity regarding sexual orientation in the all-male corp, and gave Soledad someone to talk about boys with in a story that has only three female characters.

There are some strong feminist moments in here that had me cheering early on - Soledad's confidence in her body and sexuality, as well as Taz's encouragement of a little girl who dreams of playing soccer (I'll admit, I teared up a little. I'm a sucker for encouraging girls to follow their dreams!) were big bonuses. And of course, there's the novelty of getting a book about a young woman of color where her ethnic background is an integral part of her character but not the focus of the story. But ultimately the reactions to Jonathan in the end left me feeling on the fence overall. This is an excellent romance in multiple senses of the word - including the cliche of the genre that you shouldn't think too hard about it. Accept that it's hot and sexy and just go with the flow.

Review: Keep Sweet by Michele Dominguez Greene

Found via: 2011 Amelia Bloomer Project

I'm kind of beginning to feel like when it comes to stories of fundamentalist religious societies, all of the stories have been told. This is the third title about FLDS compounds I've read for young adults that has been published in the last three years, and all of the stories share the exact same structure (the other two titles being Sister Wife and The Chosen One)

Alva Jane has never questioned the tenets of living amongst the FLDS faithful in Pineridge. She comes from a long line of women who keep to the Principle - that a man must engage in plural marriage in order to secure his and his family's places in heaven. She is anxiously waiting for her period to start, signalling that she is a woman and ready to marry - hopefully to the young and kind Joseph John, which would also give her the status and privileges associated with being a first wife.

But when an innocent meeting between the two love birds is witnessed, both are fiercely punished, and Alva finds herself married to a cruel man old enough to be her father - a man who viciously beat one of his wives for attempting to escape Pineridge. Does Alva have the strength to defy the will of her husband, her family, and the very tenets of her faith, to find refuge in the world outside of Pineridge?

Well, if you've ever read any other books about young women in FLDS compounds, you already know the answer to that. You probably also know what Alva discovers immediately before she takes off. In an author's note, Greene notes that when she read accounts of women who've escaped FLDS life, their stories were all hauntingly similar, from British Columbia to New Mexico. That similarity is reflected in how many similarities Keep Sweet has to other YA books with similar settings. Obedient daughter who is enamored with a young man is punished for her curiosity by becoming the lowest wife on the totem pole to a much older man. About the only difference between Keep Sweet and other titles is that Alva Jane's parents show little to no remorse for the harsh treatment they heap upon her - they are more concerned with their own standing within the community than their daughter's happiness. This doesn't add much to the characterization of her father because he is so distant for much of the novel, but it does make her mother an interesting, if villainous, character.

On its own, there are few faults to be found with Keep Sweet, aside from an irritating habit in the first few chapters to go on page-long info-dumps about life in Pineridge and her family. If Keep Sweet were the only FLDS novel I'd ever read, I'd probably think it was pretty decent. However, the book doesn't exist in a vacuum, and ends up feeling quite derivative with nothing to separate it from the pack.

Review: Wicked Girls by Stephanie Hemphill

Every time I'm ready to write off verse novels, something pulls me back. The last verse novels I read were back in April, Firefly Letters and Crossing Stones and I concluded that, for me, verse novels really only work when they're contemporary stories. For historical novels, I need a vested interest in the material. Then along comes Wicked Girls, covering the Salem Witch Trials that have fascinated me for as long as I can remember...in poetry.

The basic story is well-known by now: in 1692, a group of young women and girls in Salem Village started accusing their neighbors of witchcraft. What followed was a literal witch hunt, as the authorities were determined to drive out all hints of sin in their village, and relied on the testimony of the girls to send 19 people to their deaths, and scores more to prison.

Wicked Girls delves into the inner lives of Mercy Lewis, Margaret Walcott and Ann Putnam Jr., following the girls and their cohorts from the initial incriminations through to the bitter end. Hemphill hypothesizes what drew the girls to accusations of witchcraft and why they continue even in the face of doubts.

I'm truly torn about this book, because on the one hand, Hemphill has crafted an amazing story. There are many theories about why the girls began crying witch, and Hemphill explores the possibility that the girls were essentially drunk on power. Once the girls started making accusations, they suddenly had the attention of the entire town. Powerful men were listening to them, and servant girls were just as powerful as the daughters of the merchant class. Some of Mercy's poems were almost physically painful, as she describes being looked at as a powerful person to be respected, rather than a pretty girl to be lusted after by men young and old. Hemphill also explores some scary "mean girl" dynamics, as the ringleaders try to ensure loyalty among the group, showing just how strong peer pressure can be.

On the other hand, as I said at the start of this review, I'm just not a fan of poetry for historical fiction. The poetry itself is fine, though it was more the content that affected me rather than the style. I can't see what the poetry added to this story that couldn't have been achieved through prose. As I said in my Goodreads review, I wanted to give this 2.5 out of 5 stars as a perfect half-way point, reflecting all the good things I felt about the plot that were essentially negated by the format.

Review: Bruiser by Neal Shusterman

When I finished reading this, all I could do was agree with Laurie Halse Anderson's cover blurb - this was a wild ride, and absolutely magical.

Brewster "Bruiser" Rawlins was voted "Most Likely to get the Death Penalty" by the school - so when 16 year old Tennyson discovers the brute is dating his twin sister, Bronte, he's pissed and does everything possible to sabotage the relationship, from following the pair to mini-golf to making sure their dad knows the kid's brutal reputation. Bronte, however, insists the others don't know Bruiser - they don't know he's memorized "Howl" and how tenderly he cares for his little brother after their mother has died and they're living with a drunk uncle. Tennyson is reluctantly drawn to Bruiser, after seeing him in the locker room with his back covered in bruises and scars. As Bruiser becomes closer to Tennyson and Bronte, the twins start  noticing strange things happening when he's around - their injuries heal and disappear quickly, while Bruiser adds new ones daily. And while their parents' marriage is crumbling, when Bruiser is around their problems don't seem to be so bad. Bruiser's friendships with Tennyson, Bronte and their family lead to complex questions about the meanings of friendship, family and pain.

I read this shortly after I finally got around to watching The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, and found myself comparing the two in terms of tone and genre. Shusterman has written a story that has some very classical elements, combining a deathly serious story with the slightest touch of fantasy. There is no explanation for Bruiser's abilities, just like no real explanation is given for Benjamin's aging in the movie (and, I assume, the story on which its based). It's just something that exists, and in the face of undeniable evidence, Tennyson and Bronte accept it with little question. They acknowledge it's weird, and they wish they knew the how and why of it all, but when your twisted ankle heals itself in minutes while your boyfriend suddenly starts limping, you can't really argue with what's happening.

There are four narrators to this story: Tennyson and Bronte, then Bruiser and his little brother, Cody. The last two are the narrators that really stick out stylistically, for Cody narrates perfectly in the voice of an eight year old who is simultaneously wise beyond his years and painfully naive. He's never had a real injury, which gives him even more bravado than the average eight year old, but he's also been witness to and subjected to horrific abuse at the hands of his uncle. And Bruiser narrates in amazing poetry - starting with a perfect adaptation of "Howl" before moving into free verse.

This is a dramatic story with some very serious questions at its core about pain, joy, family, responsibility and friendship. The magical touch of Bruiser's ability gives Shusterman a unique way to comment on life, without having to go too far into the realm of fantasy. It is a perfect blend of the fantastic and the all-too real.

Review: Wildthorn by Jane Eagland

I picked this one up in the mad dash for galleys at ALA in June. A corset on the cover, a story of mistaken identity in a 19th century asylum, I figured it was worth a shot - even if it has the cheesiest tagline ever on the cover. "Treachery locks her away. Love is the key." Ignore that, it gets much better!

Louisa Cosgrove is a young woman of privilege. Her father is a respected doctor and encourages his daughter's precocious and inquisitive mind. Her mother is disappointed she doesn't have a more traditional daughter, and her older brother is jealous of the time Louisa gets to spend with her father as they bond over their shared passion for medicine.

Louisa's luck changes after her father's death. Her brother, now the man of the house, forbids Louisa from furthering her education. Her mother falls into a devastating depression. Louisa's only reprieve is when she visits her beautiful cousin, Grace, but even that will soon be taken from her, as Grace is preparing for her wedding. When Louisa's brother finds a companion position for her with the family of a friend, Louisa takes the opportunity, if only to escape the heartaches of home.

But Louisa never arrives at the home of the Woodvilles. Instead, she's dropped off at Wildthorn, an insane asylum where they insist she is Lucy Childs. Louisa - or is it Lucy? - is stripped of her belongings, forced to face indignities like being locked in a bathtub in the dark and drugged whenever she tries to argue with the staff. Only Eliza, one of the assistants, shows a hint of compassion for Louisa, and the pair form an unlikely bond as Louisa plots her escape.

Eagland paints a terrifying picture of a 19th century asylum. Abusive and untrained staff severely hinder the healing process for the patients thought curable. Worse staff and egregious conditions condemn those thought to be incurable (or just too difficult for other people to work with). Louisa's plight in the asylum was especially terrifying for me, since not being believed is one of my worst fears (outside of things that could actually kill me. Like bees). Since the book is set before people were carrying IDs with them all the time, it's easy to see how a new identity could be quickly created - but Eagland also does a good job of making us question Louisa's mental state. There are just enough hints at some potentially traumatic incident in Louisa's past that had me wondering if she really was Lucy Childs and she'd created an alternate personality in Louisa Cosgrove.

Now about that tagline. It's not only cheesy, but it's misleading, since the romance plays only a small part in the story, and doesn't even appear until near the end. Now I can't say I'm entirely disappointed in it, because surprisingly it's a lesbian romance (no mention of that in the jacket copy!), and I'm never going to say we need fewer lesbians in YA lit, but at the same time this one never quite rang true for me. By making Louisa a lesbian, it falls dangerously close to lesbian stereotypes: she's an uppity 19th century woman with an interest in masculine sciences like medicine, of course she's a lesbian. As I'm a fan of stories that eschew the "rule" that all books need a romance, I would have preferred Louisa to be a solitary character who simply formed strong friendships (and if readers wanted to read some subtext into those relationships, I would totally encourage them!).

Wildthorn was released yesterday, September 6th (Labor Day in the US). Picked up ARC for review at ALA.

Nonfiction Monday Review: I Am an Emotional Creature by Eve Ensler

Found via: Amelia Bloomer Project

I debated whether this should be a Nonfiction Monday post or not. It's poetry/monologues, but they are all drawn from interviews and writings of real teenage girls. There are no fictional characters or plot - it's a collection of writings about the real experiences of girls and young women, that have been polished by Ensler. Since Amazon includes it in two nonfiction categories and one fiction category (literature and fiction > Drama), and the Library of Congress headings don't include fiction, I figured it could count for Nonfiction Monday.

Eve Ensler's The Vagina Monologues was a watershed moment for women. A play that spoke frankly about the most shamed part of our bodies. While there are parts of it that are definitely applicable to women of all ages, it's generally not the sort of text you hand to a middle or high school girl. But where can these girls to turn for validation of their experiences? Ensler has filled that void with I Am an Emotional Creature. Inspired by girls all over the world, from US suburbs to eastern European brothels, African villages to middle eastern cities, the poems and monologues interspersed with "girl facts" about our bodies and our treatment around the world (child labor, sex trafficking, etc) give voice to a variety of female experiences. There's the girls at a sleepover playing "would you rather," girls experiencing first love and their "first time," and girls who were sold into slavery - or ran away from home to escape that fate.

The actor in me relished these poems and monologues, as they beg to be performed. Many of the poems are obviously drawn from the experiences of multiple girls and I am sure would be best understood if the various lines were said by different girls to build a story.

Randomly, one selection from The Vagina Monologues is included - "My Short Skirt." It's an excellent poem and definitely worthy of inclusion considering how young women are often shamed for their fashion choices, it was just slightly distracting for me as I was reading the poem and thinking "I've heard this before..." (Freshman year of college I performed in The Vagina Monologues. Unfortunately I didn't do "My Short Skirt." I got to put on my best British accent and perform "The Vagina Workshop")

This should be considered mandatory reading for every teenage girl - even teenage boys would benefit from some of these (like the aforementioned "Short Skirt"). While much of the book is about body image and sexuality, there are lots of other topics too - like child labor, from the girl who works in a Chinese factory assembling Barbies, and dating violence, like in the letter to Rihanna penned by a girl in her own abusive relationship but hasn't left, like Rihanna did. It's an excellent assortment of points of view, arranged well so you aren't overwhelmed by dark and depressing themes before a more lighthearted piece pops up.



Nonfiction Monday is hosted this week by the Book Nosher. Be sure to check out all the other great nonfiction books highlighted today!

Review: Sellout by Ebony Joy Wilkins

Found via: Reading in Color

I've said it before and I'll say it again: my social justice weak points are gender, sexual orientation, race and class. When a book hits any one of those sweet spots, I give it at least a second glance. Hit two or more, and its assured a spot on my to-read list. I've been waiting on this one since April, when Ari highlighted it as her Waiting on Wednesday title, since it looked like it was going to squarely hit race and class head on.

NaTasha is the only Black girl in her affluent New Jersey suburb. She spends a week every summer with her grandmother in Harlem, but otherwise NaTasha spends all of her time with her white girlfriends, doing things like silly contests to see whose hair grows the longest during the school year - a contest NaTasha knows she can't win with her nappy hair, even if her mom irons it straight regularly.

After a ballet recital where NaTasha's attempts to fit in with her white peers have disastrous results, her grandmother, Tilly, decides a mere week in Harlem isn't enough. NaTasha is going to spend most of her summer in the city, working with her grandmother at Amber's Place, a community center for troubled girls up in the Bronx.

After her first day at Amber's Place, NaTasha is sure she won't fit in with these girls any better than the white girls back home. For while these girls have brown skin, they immediately peg NaTasha as a sellout - someone who acts white and thinks she's better than her Black peers. But NaTasha decides to stick it out a bit longer, out of respect to Tilly, and hopes that sooner rather than later she really will find herself.

I totally understood Tilly's desire for NaTasha to get in touch with her roots. Her actions at the ballet recital (weaving scarves into her hair to give the illusion of a hair bun) indicate on some level that she's embarrassed or ashamed of who she is. Some time up in Harlem could do her some real good, showing her how other African American women love and accept the way they look. However, making her volunteer at Amber's Place really came out of nowhere. What is NaTasha supposed to learn from girls that have been abused, and even continue to abuse themselves? And then making NaTasha take part in the activities like she was just another girl - of course she and the girls are going to clash! To them, NaTasha doesn't have a real problem in the world. And in some ways, I felt that sending her to Amber's Place did make light of NaTasha's problems - they are rather "first world" problems (you need to feel that your basic needs are being met - food, shelter, safety - before you can start worrying about your identity and fitting in socially), but that doesn't make them any less real for NaTasha.


The other girls at Amber's Place, however, are totally and heartbreakingly real. Each of them has a story to tell, and especially Shaunda's and Monique's will make you rage at the injustices of the world that two otherwise bright young women would feel they are deserving of anything less than love and respect. Quiana, NaTasha's primary tormentor, also has a story to tell, making her anger perfectly understandable.


Once NaTasha gets to Harlem, the story really picks up and I enjoyed it - it's just the framing device, getting NaTasha into Harlem and the Bronx, falls a little flat and could have been handled with much more depth.

Review: Free? Stories About Human Rights Ed. by Amnesty International

Found via: Publisher's Weekly 4/19

I'll admit, I'm not the biggest fan of short story collections - I much prefer to let myself get wrapped up in one long narrative. However, I'm always willing to give them a try if the theme of the collection seems interesting. Considering I'm big on social justice and human rights, I thought this one would be safe to try.

The stories are written by a variety of YA authors and touch upon many of the tenets of the UN's 1948 Declaration of Human Rights. Just to clarify what rights were enumerated in the story, each one ends with the declaration (or two) it was themed around.

The collection stumbles, however, in the haphazard way some of these declarations are applied. One story, about a kid who stumbles upon a sweatshop of underage children, has someone at the end randomly note that now the kids can get an education - and that's enough for the story to cover the "you have the right to go to school" declaration, as well as one other. Other stories barely qualify as actual stories, being more vignettes - glimpses into someone's life without any actual conflict or action.

A few pieces stand out as legitimately good stories - a poem about the immediate aftermath of Hurricane Katrina as a group of teens search for food and water in the ruined city stands out, as does another about a family fleeing Zimbabwe in the aftermath of contested elections. These were compelling and riveting stories, which just served to highlight the relative weakness of many others.

Sci-Fi Friday Review: For The Win by Cory Doctorow

Found via: Publisher's Weekly 4/19

Image via Wikipedia

Gaming is a Big Deal in my family. As a kid, I loved our Intellivision II, until we finally upgraded to a Super Nintendo (still my favorite gaming system). In high school and college, I matured to playing table top role playing games (if you want to hear a story of the Worst Decision Ever made - like, the sort of decision that gets people killed in horror movies - ask about the first time I went gaming with my new college friends. Note: offer does not apply to my mother - I don't want to give the woman a heart attack). Through the man who's now my husband, I discovered MMORPGs - games like World of Warcraft and Second Life (not that he plays either of those - Star Wars Galaxies and City of Heroes dominate in our apartment). So when I heard Cory Doctorow, author of Little Brother, one of my tops reads of 2008), was combining MMOs with the sort of social justice stuff I also love, I was all over it.

Set in the not-too-distant future, For the Win follows several gamers from around the world, all of whom are employed in different ways in gold farming. They work in sweat shop conditions, mostly in India and China, playing for hours every day in order to collect gold and other in-game valuables that can then be sold for real-world money to first world players too lazy or inept to collect the treasures for themselves. The conditions are deplorable, but a step up from the dangerous factory work these children and young adults would otherwise be forced into.

A young woman who goes by the name Big Sister Nor recognizes that the conditions these gamers work under are dangerous and abusive - slave wages, dark and crowded work environments, and threats to family members are all part of the gold farmers' lives. Nor is determined to unionize these workers across the world, gaining the support of real world unions to help protect local gamer unions. But Nor isn't only working against the systems in the game (as gold farming is clearly against the Terms of Service in any game) - after all, she's taking on whole governments when she tries to organize workers in China, and even the small-time bosses in India don't take kindly to children demanding better treatment. It will take the resources and determination of dozens, even hundreds, of players around the world, to give the new system even a hope for survival.

Doctorow clearly knows his stuff, both when it comes to games and to Marxism. Unfortunately, this didn't always come out in the best way. More than once I had flashbacks to college discussions about the benefits of Marxism and unions and the details of various economic theories as characters sounded just like my professors - or worse, the text books. I was glad some of these topics were being explained, as a lot of readers will lack a working knowledge of at least one subject integral to the story, but the way the information was presented was too heavy-handed.

Editing was also a huge problem for this book. Shortly before I read this, Cindy and Lynn at Bookends posted about "bloated 500+ page books," asking where they'd come from. For the Win definitely could have been much shorter - and needed an editor to go through at least one time with a fine-toothed comb, as this had far more than the average number of typos and several repetitive phrases, including repeated definitions of PvP (made more awkward because alternatives like PvE and role playing servers were never mentioned) and warnings of Terms of Service so dense they retained the right to kick you off at any time for any reason (or no reason at all).

There were also way too many characters in play, few of whom got any real development. The cast is as diverse and multi-cultural as you can get, but the lone white American boy was the closest to getting an actual character arc. Also, while I appreciated the attempt at cultural diversity, a lot of the characters from all around the world felt and sounded essentially the same, making the different countries little more than window dressing and not actually an integral part of the characters' backgrounds. It's almost as though the only reason this wasn't just set in America with a generic cast is because you'd have to go a little farther in the future before we'd really believe the military would come in and kill people over a union trying to organize, but we know that happens in China right now.

So while I found the initial idea to be intriguing, unfortunately it fell apart in the execution for me. However, if you're like me and find your curiosity piqued no matter how many critical reviews you see, know that Doctorow not only talks the talk, but walks the walk when it comes to copyright issues, and the novel is available for free download in multiple e-formats, from plain text to Kindle.

Review: Scars by Cheryl Rainfield

Found via: I'm Here, I'm Queer, What the hell do I read?
Book received at ALA June 2010

I saw this on Lee's blog back in April. It took my library months to get it in, and I finally got it through the library right before ALA...where I stumbled across Cheryl signing copies in the exhibits! Not that I need more books in my apartment, you know, but it's always nice to have a personalized copy to add to my collection.

Growing up, Kendra was sexually abused in a horrific manner - so horrific, she completely blocked the memory of it until six months ago. Even now, after extensive therapy, she can't bring herself to remember the man who did these terrible things to her. To cope, she has thrown herself into her art, creating dark and emotional works that stand in stark contrast to the controlled and pretty landscapes her mother paints. Less healthfully, she has also turned to self harm, cutting herself up and down her arms as a way to control the pain and fear that well up inside of her.

Now, years after the end of the abuse, her abuser is back on the scene, stalking Kendra, leaving her threatening notes in her backpack warning that he will kill her if she tells anyone. Kendra reports this to her therapist, but finds there's no one else she can trust, especially since she doesn't know who he is - or how he's getting so close to her now.

The one highlight in Kendra's life is her budding relationship with Meghan. Meghan saves Kendra from one of the school bullies one day, and Kendra latches on, hoping at first just for a friend before finding that her feelings are growing deeper. Luckily, despite her reputation with the boys, Meghan returns Kendra's feelings.

The stakes for Kendra rise as trouble hits her family. Her father is in danger of losing his job, meaning Kendra may have to change schools, and even stop seeing her therapist, the only person keeping her from actually killing herself. Life has, perhaps, never been darker for Kendra, as her parents threaten to rip all of her supports out from under her. If she can only figure out who hurt her, and is stalking her again, she can find some peace.

I have to admit, part of what drew me in to this book, is the stark and rather disturbing cover. It's the sort of cover that catches people's eye, and then makes them do a double take - this is a side effect of all of that reading in public I do. It's not bright and flashy, but I think it's the one smooth and one horrifically scarred arm that draws me in. It almost looks like a horror movie poster.

And Kendra's life is like something out of a horror movie at times. The novel opens with her telling her therapist that she's being stalked, and I love that it's impossible to tell for awhile whether it's true or if Kendra is paranoid with the sort of unstable personality that could make something like this up. Kendra acknowledges that it sounds crazy, but remains convinced.

The descriptions of Kendra's abuse, both as a child and the harm she self-inflicts, are absolutely brutal. If you're squeamish about depictions of abuse, this might not be the book for you.

In some ways, this felt like a novel of extremes, with a lot of stuff crammed in. Occasionally it stretched credulity, for example there's a big stand off at the end that seemed to come out of nowhere. Also, very briefly at the end, and again in Rainfield's author's note, there's a mention of "ritual abuse," which both Kendra and Rainfield were subjected to, however there's no further explanation. There are support resources in the extensive readers' resource guide related to ritual abuse, which certainly have a place in a book such as this, but it felt like a rather random tidbit to be dropped in during the closing pages of the novel.

Kendra's relationship with Meghan is delightfully a non-issue in the story. Kendra has enough to agonize about without adding sexual orientation to the list, though her parents have some hand wringing over whether she's really a lesbian or if she's just reacting against the abuse. While I felt their relationship developed extremely fast (which happens to lots of plot points across the novel), Meghan's unquestioning support is a beautiful counterpoint to Kendra's parents.

Review: Saving Maddie by Varian Johnson

The idea of the "preacher's kid" has always intrigued me - they're kids who end up being defined almost entirely by their parents' role in the community. Even more so than the rest of us (churchgoing or not), they're expected to uphold a certain standard of behavior constantly, no matter how they feel about their parents' job.

Saving Maddie is the second book about a preacher's kid I've read this year - the first being Donut Days for the Nerds Heart YA contest. Between the two books, we see three of the possible iterations of the preachers kid: Emma is a good kid who disagrees with her parents, while Saving Maddie's narrator, Joshua, is a goody two-shoes and the titular Maddie is the rebel who has apparently turned her back on everything her father teaches.

Joshua Wynn is a good kid, the quintessential preacher's kid. He's active in church activities to the point of excluding all others. As youth leader of the church's youth group, he listens to the ideas of his peers before issuing a verdict that will fall in line with his father's beliefs. Joshua isn't always sure his father is right, but striking out on his own isn't an option.

Until Maddie returns to town.

Joshua and Maddie were best friends growing up, while her father was the associate pastor in Joshua's father's church. When she moved away in middle school, they swore to keep in contact, but eventually Maddie stopped returning Joshua's letters, and he stopped trying to reach out.

But now she's back, dressed in short, tight black dresses; wearing purple lipstick; and going by her full name, Madeline. It's quite a change from the quiet girl Joshua knew way back when, but deep down, Joshua knows she's still just Maddie. So despite the disapproving stares of the parishioners Joshua starts hanging out with Madeline, convinced he can "save" her from her fallen ways.

As Joshua and Madeline's friendship is rekindled, Joshua learns more about his friend's new life than he ever really wanted to know. She drinks, smokes, and fools around with guys much older than her. And worse, according to Madeline her dad is a Grade A jerk, and Joshua is concerned that his abuse might go well beyond verbal insults. As his parents worry that Madeline is a poor influence on him, Joshua openly defies them for the first time, and continues to spend time with Madeline despite their commands that he end the relationship immediately. Joshua doesn't know where exactly this relationship will end up (he's kind of hoping to make it at least to second base), but he does know that now, more than ever, Maddie needs him.

Joshua and Madeline have both been labeled by the time we first meet them - Joshua as a good guy and Madeline as the fallen woman, and we're reminded of this several times explicitly by the way people talk and act around the pair. When out at a party several youth group members are attending, they try to hide their drinks from Joshua, afraid he's such a good boy that he'll report their illicit activities to their parents. On the other hand, everyone immediately assumes the worst about Madeline, treating her as a sex object and a temptress to the surrounding young men (as if it doesn't take two to tango!). Even as Joshua and Madeline are labeled as opposites, they also react to these labels in opposite ways: Joshua is constantly trying to break free of his good guy image, while Madeline has heartbreakingly accepted that her only worth lies in sex.

That part of Madeline's character kind of bothered me, though I've known enough girls who feel the same way to know it's totally true. I guess it bothered me because I know it's not true, that no person should be defined by her sexuality, and no one deserves to be treated poorly because of her past sexual experiences. Joshua feels the same way (though he doesn't articulate it quite that way), but poor Madeline just can't see her own worth, which made the last few chapters very difficult to read as Madeline constantly beats up on herself.

Also horrible: Madeline's father. Holy crap. We never actually meet the guy in the text, but even if he's only half as bad as Madeline describes him, he's a terrible, horrible man who has no business being a parent or a preacher. In April, the New York Times asked if YA lit has a parent problem, and I argued that the article's examples were terrible, as the parents cited that I was familiar with were struggling parents, but by no means bad ones. You want bad parents? Look here and in Say the Word and King of the Screw Ups.

Huh. Just realized all of my "terrible parent" examples are actually terrible fathers. Am I just missing the books with abusive mothers? Dirty Little Secrets is the only abusive mother I can think of recently, and for some reason she doesn't pop into my mind immediately when I think "terrible parent." A bit of bias on my part, perhaps? Or is it just because the mother is dead when that book starts and her abuse may have been brought about by mental illness?

Complicated stuff.

The book itself deals with lots of complicated issues in thoughtful ways. Aside from Madeline's sexuality, there is also, of course, lots and lots of thoughts on religion, specifically protestant Christianity. I really enjoyed how Johnson showed Madeline still considers herself religious, even if she thinks organized religious institutions are bunk. Joshua also has a lot to think about, as much of his feelings on faith are tied up in his feelings about his parents.

Review: Abe in Arms by Pegi Deitz Shea

Review copy sent to me by the author


Back in May author Lyn Miller-Lachman invited me to the Inspired by True Crime panel at the NYPL, I had the opportunity to meet another author in the audience - Peggi Deitz Shea. She told me that she had a book of her own coming out soon - Abe in Arms, and I was excited to be able to say I'd actually heard of it, thanks to Ari's Waiting on Wednesday post earlier in May. Peggi and I exchanged e-mail information, and a few weeks later I got a package in the mail - my very own copy of Abe in Arms for review!



I felt terrible when I saw Peggi briefly at ALA (we were getting books signed at the same booth) and realized that while I'd read and enjoyed Abe in Arms I hadn't gotten the review posted yet. I promised that I would have it up soon, so here we are!

Abe grew up in Liberia, a witness to the terrible strife and violence of the country's civil war in the 80s and 90s. Adopted as a teenager by a loving American family and now a senior in high school, Abe's life has definitely turned around as he has a promising future with track scholarships paving his way to a great college and a girlfriend who's crazy about him.

And then Abe starts getting flashes of life in Africa - terrible and terrifying glimpses of a past he'd done his best (both consciously and unconsciously) to forget. Through the help of his supportive father and a psychologist who won't let Abe give up, he slowly begins to uncover the horrors of his past while working through a diagnosis of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.

This is definitely and important and compelling story. I knew that child soldiers had been prominently used in Rwanda and Somalia's civil conflicts, but had no idea about Liberia. Liberia's existence as a country is fascinating - one of America's attempts at colonialism, during the 19th century various groups sponsored former slaves to send them "back" to Liberia, where tragically the standard story of colonialism and oppression was played out again against the native people. I definitely recommend you at least read the Wikipedia article on the country if you aren't already familiar with Liberia.

While I enjoyed the plot and the story, I found this to be a very "talky" novel - all of the characters were constantly talking about their feelings, and it seemed like there was more dialog than narration throughout the novel. As soon as an interpersonal conflict arose, the characters were immediately able and willing to articulate exactly what was wrong, which felt artificial.

Abe is a suitably complex character, and I felt his struggle with PTSD was very believable. He desperately wants to understand what's happening to him, but at the same time is terrified what his friends (especially his girlfriend and adopted brother/best friend) and teammates on the track team will think of him. When he has a flashback in the middle of a track meet, he's suitably mortified, not just scared because he doesn't understand what's happening, but truly embarrassed that now his problems are going to be the gossip of the school.

Finally, I have to say that while I definitely recommend this book, I wish the publisher had created a better quality product. When I pulled the book out of the envelope, I had to double check that I hadn't been sent an ARC because the book felt much more flimsy than a standard paperback. It didn't take away my enjoyment of the novel itself, but I thought it was weird to have a quality story in such a flimsy package as a final product.

Nonfiction Monday Review: I Am Nujood, Age 10 and Divorced by Nujood Ali and Delphine Minoui

Found via: Amelia Bloomer Project nomination
Welcome back from the big weekend of ALA! I'm actually writing this post on Saturday night, since I'm not getting back to New York until late tomorrow - and I know there are plenty of librarians still in DC. Hopefully we'll still get a good Non-Fiction Monday turn out!

In 2008, Nujood Ali's story was all over the blogs. The 10 year old Yemeni girl had summoned the courage and strength to seek a divorce from her husband, who was 3 times her age. Here, with the help of a reporter, Nujood gives the first hand account of that experience, describing in child-like terms growing up in poverty, one child among many between her father's two brides. Despite the obvious difficulties, Nujood is generally a happy child.

And then the terrifying news comes - that she is to be married, to a man significantly older than she is. Nujood isn't entirely sure how old she is, but she knows she doesn't want to marry and leave her family. Her father has made her future husband promise not to "touch her" until she has reached puberty, but at 10 Nujood doesn't really even know what that means, let alone what sex is and what it means when her husband demands that she act like his wife.

It is on one of her brief trips to visit her family that Nujood plans her escape, taking a taxi to the court house and making history by announcing to a judge that she wants a divorce.

Nujood's story is absolutely heartbreaking. The trauma she experienced is unimaginable for us in the West, with firmly established age of consent laws and lack of arranged marriages. The child-like prose doubles the horror for an adult reader, for while Nujood's descriptions of her relationship with her husband are never described in graphic detail, it's painfully obvious that she is raped and abused by her new husband and his family.

As an adult reader, I often craved more details - many people in the courthouse tell Nujood that granting her divorce will be nearly impossible, thanks to centuries of tradition, and yet we never see any of that struggle. A couple of meetings with a lawyer, her husband and father are temporarily sent to jail, and then a hearing - suddenly Nujood is free! However, I think for young readers the descriptions and details will be more than enough.

Nonfiction Monday is a weekly event across the kidlitosphere, highlighting and celebrating nonfiction published for children and young adults. Started by Picture Book of the Day, I'm excited to be this week's host! Participants, please leave links to your reviews in the comments, and I'll add them to this post periodically throughout the day!






Other Nonfiction Monday posts:

• Wild About Nature blog: a review of Down, Down, Down: A Journey to the Bottom of the Sea by Steve Jenkins.
• The Book Nosher: a review about Bill Peet, An Autobiography
• Another Steve Jenkins book, How to Clean a Hippopotamus, at Jean Little Library
• Anastasia Suen is in today with a fun book about ...Dinosaurs?! at Picture Book of the Day 
• Mary Ann Fraser brings us a guest post today by Vicki Leon on The Publishing Road Less Traveled
• SimplyScience looks at More Life Size Zoo
• The Fourth Musketeer joins us for her first Nonfiction Monday with a review of All Star, about baseball player Honus Wagner.
• Maggy at Red Ted Art reviews three books for little gardeners
• Maclibrary reviews the young reader's version of The Omnivore's Dilemma
• Shelf Employed reviews Happy Birthday The Story of the World's Most Popular Song
• Roberta introduces us to Super Women in Science at Growing With Science
• Mary Ann Dames is preparing for the fourth of July with America: A Patriotic Primer
• A Patchwork of Books comes in with two reviews of the popular Scientists in the Field series, Project Seahorse and Kakapo Rescue
• A late entry! Abby (the) Librarian finishes us off today with Lincoln Tells a Joke

What a day. Thanks to all of the Nonfiction Monday participants!

Review: Split by Swati Avasthi

Two novels titled Split came out this March. Originally I intended to review them together in a Double Review, but these two are soooooooooooo different, it would have been the most disjointed post ever. So instead the reviews are being posted back-to-back; look for my review of Stefan Petrucha's Split tomorrow.

16 year old Jace has grown up with an abusive father - but it wasn't until his older brother Christian moved out that Jace was actually a direct victim. He grew up watching his mother and older brother be beaten viciously - and when he finally stepped in to stop an attack on his mother, he was kicked out. With nowhere else to go, Jace turns to Christian, who has moved out to New Mexico and essentially cut all ties with his family - even changing his name to escape his father.

Christian isn't prepared to be Jace's guardian, but agrees to give it a try, despite living only in a crappy one bedroom apartment and working long hours as a doctoral intern. They're both supported by Christian's girlfriend and next door neighbor, Mirriam. In fits and starts, with plenty of wrong moves by both of them, the brothers re-establish a relationship and try to move forward, even as the violence of their past continues to haunt them and re-emerges in unexpected ways.

This is a totally different look at domestic violence and physical abuse than I've seen in YA novels before. Jace and Christian's father is a total bastard - and yet is a judge and seen as a pillar of the Chicago community outside of the family home. Avasthi doesn't pull any punches, describing the manipulative depths this man goes to, even before he raises a fist. Absolutely chilling.

I also loved that Jace is a complex character. He's not a saint. On the same night that he's kicked out of his house, he smacked around his girlfriend, and even after he's in New Mexico his first reaction in many situations is violence of some kind. It's terrifying to see someone who is in otherways a good kid be so influenced (unwillingly) by a negative force like his dad. Christian also has some great nuances, and it's interesting to see how two kids who grew up in the same household could turn out so differently - and yet also have some very basic similarities.

If I'm being vague, it's only because getting to the hearts of these characters is the real draw of this novel. While both Christian and Jace have girlfriends (or potential girlfriends), the story is about the two of them, and while their relationships with women clearly play a part in defining them, this is about the story of two brothers, and if I explained too much about what makes them tick it would take away from the reading experience!

Review: Sprout by Dale Peck

Found via: 2010 Lambda Literary Award finalist

Why, oh WHY aren't more people talking about this book?! Fantastic writing, awesome characters, a great twist on the coming-out story - oh, and green hair, which may or may not have been part of my attraction. Seriously, folks, this is a book you NEED to get reading!

Daniel "Sprout" Bradford moved from Long Island to Kansas after his mother's death on a whim of his father's. Sprout still isn't sure if Kansas was the destination all along or if it's just where his dad ran out of steam. In his new small, insular town, so different from Long Island, Sprout is immediately pegged as an outsider, different, even before anyone knows he's gay or he first starts dying his hair.

It's now Sprout's junior year of high school and the advanced English teacher, Mrs. Miller, has decided to stake her reputation for educating essay-contest-champions on Sprout, going with a junior to ensure she'll have a student with an unprecedented two wins in a row. Sprout spends much of the summer with Mrs. Miller while his best (only?) friend, Ruthie, is visiting Europe, practicing speed writing or writing essays under ridiculous constraints ("don't use the letter e") to prep his writing skills for the big essay contest.

The tutoring with Mrs. Miller continues even as she begins dating Sprout's washed up drunk of a father and into the school year, where Mrs. Miller manipulates Sprout's schedule to make sure he isn't influenced by lesser English teachers. Through Sprout's writing we also see him develop a new friendship with Ty, a small, wiry kid who lives just down the street from Sprout's trailer, and who possibly has more problems in his life than Sprout does.

I'm often asking for more novels that aren't about being gay, where a gay character can have adventures that are totally independent of his or her sexual orientation. I found Sprout to be a twist on that, because in some ways this novel is about being gay - it's just not necessarily Sprout who is struggling with this. In fact, Sprout seems to be 100% okay with himself, and we never see that there was any sort of doubt or questioning in his mind. His sexual orientation is just another part of who he is, like having green hair, and the struggles we see are from other characters, reacting either to Sprout's or their own sexuality.

(Side note about Sprout's green hair: what kind of dye is that kid using?! I've bought hair dye from Wal-Mart before; the only type that should be flaking off is the sort that washes out immediately. If it's the sort that requires bleaching hair and weekly root touch-ups, you're doing something totally wrong if it's flaking off and making you leave green finger prints everywhere. Sorry. Had to get that out of my system.)

This is a very wordy and self-aware novel. It's hard to tell when Sprout's stories are part of an essay and when they're just narration. Sprout is clearly an accomplished writer who has an in-character obsession with the dictionary, which gives Peck a reason to have Sprout using words that most teenagers wouldn't be able to use un-self-consciously. Also, since Sprout is aware that he has readers, Peck is able to slip in some masterful foreshadowing that totally ramps up the tension for the last third or so of the book. I swear it's just one line, but Sprout mentions that he hopes his current behavior will make us forgive him for the terrible stuff that he does later, and later on in the story the tension was almost unbearable for me as I waited for that "terrible stuff" to make an appearance. I absolutely love smart novels, ones that require the reader to step up to the challenge, rather than talking down to the reader.

So now I've read four of the five nominees in the children's/YA category of the Lambda Literary awards (the others being Ash, The Vast Fields of Ordinary and How Beautiful the Ordinary. The library still doesn't have P.E. Ryan's In Mike We Trust). The Lambda awards are being presented TONIGHT (and if tickets weren't $100, I would be there). I'll send out a tweet as soon as I know the winner (you are following me on Twitter, right?) and look for an update here on Friday (or Saturday, if I have a lot to say about the winner!).

Also, if you missed it yesterday, be sure to check out the Gringolandia giveaway posted yesterday!

Double Review: The Dark Days of Hamburger Halpin by Josh Berk and All Unquiet Things by Anna Jarzab by

Hamburger Halpin found via Publisher's Weekly 1/18
All Unquiet Things found via Tea Cozy

On the surface it looks like I'm stretching for this Double Review pairing, but hear me out! While The Dark Days of Hamburger Halpin is a dark comedy and All Unquiet Things is a noir-ish murder mystery, at the center of both stories is the murder of a young classmate. How each novel handles that murder, and tracking down the killer, however, couldn't be more different.

In The Dark Days of Hamburger Halpin, the Will "Hamburger" Halping has decided it's time to ditch "deaf school" and join mainstream classes at the local high school. He's fairly adept at reading lips, but being new, disabled, and overweight all combine to work against Will when it comes to making friends. His only social prospect is perpetual dweeb Devon Smiley. Will does his best to ignore Devon, despite the latter's eager attempts at communication, including learning to finger spell and sign some basic phrases so Will doesn't have to read his lips all the time. The two join forces and forge a friendship in the aftermath of a tragic accident at a coal mine during a school trip where a popular classmate died. Or was it an accident? Will and Devon take it upon themselves, roping in Ebony, Devon's friend from his deaf school days (and who just narrowly avoids falling into the "sassy black friend", to solve the crime, relying on Will's & Ebony's lip reading abilities to surreptitiously gather information. Their investigation takes them through all the rungs of the high school social ladder, uncovering secrets and petty gossip the popular kids would rather remain quiet, until the startling reveal of whodunnit.

All Unquiet Things also has a murder at its center: Carly, Neily's ex-girlfriend and Audrey's cousin. Months after Carly's murder, Neily has come to terms with her death (as well as you can when someone you love has been brutally murdered) - until Audrey shows up in school again after an extended absence, saying that her father - Carly's uncle - wasn't guilty, and she wants Neily's help to uncover the true suspect. Through alternating sections, we see the investigation unfold through Neily's and Audrey's perspectives as the two start sticking their noses where they don't belong, tangling with teenage drug dealers and stalkers, while trying to uncover the motive and the guilty party that snatched Carly from their lives all too soon.

I enjoyed Hamburger Halpin for about 99% of the book - until the murderer and motive was revealed. My dislike of the conclusion was only heightened after reading All Unquiet Things which took a very similar tactic and treated it with seriousness and respect. I'm trying to be circumspect here so as not to spoil the ending for either book, but the murderer and motivation in Hamburger Halpin feels totally out of place in a comedic book. I'm all for dark comedy, but the conclusion comes out of nowhere and the very serious motivation is treated like an afterthought that just totally ruined the end.

All Unquiet Things, on the other hand, builds the mystery slowly over the course of the book, with multiple suspects investigated, so that when the big reveal is finally made it feels like we've really been on the investigation with Neily and Audrey. The final few scenes at the climax are tremendously tense and were everything a person could ask for in a dramatic murder mystery.

In Hamburger Halpin's favor, I did enjoy reading about a deaf protagonist, even if I felt the communication difficulties were overcome rather quickly. Until Devon procures smartphones for text messaging for both of them, a lot of communication is done via notebook paper. Have you ever tried to carry on a conversation by writing everything down? It drives you crazy (I did this in high school during the Day of Silence). Also I thought it was a little convenient that Will rarely missed important words while lip reading. Luckily, Will is a fun character, so I didn't mind spending so much of the book inside of his head with just his observations to carry the story until he and Devon become friends.

Has anyone else read either title? What did you think of the big reveals?