Review: The Running Dream by Wendelin Van Draanen

I am so glad stories about all different sorts of disabilities have been coming out over the last few years. The Running Dream takes a slightly different twist from others I've seen though - in this case the disability is the sudden amputation of a leg after a terrible car accident. In most other stories I've seen, the disability has been something the protagonist has lived with for most/all of her life.

Hours after setting a league record in the 400m dash, Jessica wakes up in the hospital - sure that her life is over. While she survived the accident that took the life of one of her teammates, Jessica has had one of her legs amputated below the knee. Sure, it could have been worse - but until now, running has been Jessica's life, the only time she felt relaxed and comfortable.

Returning to school, Jessica feels like a freak and an outcast, even more so when her tough math teacher has her move from her usual desk - which can no longer accommodate her so long as she's using a wheelchair - to the table in the back, where Rosa, one of the special ed students with cerebral palsy, sits.

As Jessica readjusts to school and learns how to walk again with a temporary, Frankenstein-ish, prosthetic leg, her team and the community rally behind Jessica's recurring dream: to run again. Jessica knows she is incredibly lucky to have such caring friends, and she wants to repay them in some way for their kindness and support. As Rosa shows she's deeper and more insightful than Jessica had ever bothered to notice before, she expands her personal running dream: now she's going to find a way to take Rosa with her across the finish line.

Something about this book was strangely compelling - when I stopped to reflect on it I could see it's a very traditional narrative arc/plotline and both Jessica and Rosa (especially Rosa) often slip into the inspirationally disadvantaged trope, which could certainly be annoying if not downright offensive to those who have been affected by disabilities. I cringed a lot around Rosa, but found Jessica interesting, if sometimes a little too positive and chipper. Yet something made me keep coming back - I read this in one day and when i did have to stop reading (stupid work!) I found myself thinking about the book constantly. In part, I think, because I was imagining all of the complex places the book could have gone - would other racers think that a running prosthesis would give Jessica an unfair advantage? Will Jessica over exert herself and get hurt? - and anxiously waiting to see if any of my predictions panned out.

If you're the sort that loves to watch inspirational sports movies (especially the ones Disney makes), you'll find yourself in familiar territory with The Running Dream - which isn't necessarily a bad thing.

Review: Five Flavors of Dumb by Antony John

So...it's music week on Bookish Blather!

Well, not really, since I don't have another music-related title for Friday, but I've sure gone through a bit of a music spell the last few weeks, with Janis Joplin, 50 women in rock songs, and now a high school hard rock band with a deaf manager.

When the winners of the local Teen Battle of the Bands put on a show on the school's front steps that literally sets their amps on fire, Piper is fascinated. In a moment of recklessness, she volunteers to be their manager, betting that she can get them a paying gig within a month. The move shocks her friends and family; Piper is a quiet student who doesn't know the first thing about music - and she can hardly hear Dumb anyway. Piper is profoundly deaf and can only hear with the assistance of the Barbie-pink hearing aids she's been saddled with since she was 6.

But Piper is determined to prove herself as a capable manager - and she's desperate for the money, any money, after she learns her parents have plundered her college fund in order to pay for the cochlear implants of her deaf baby sister. Home life is stressful with the new baby and the constant reminders that even as a toddler Grace can hear more than Piper ever will - so Piper is willing to do anything and everything to get Dumb the publicity they need so she can restore her college funds and escape to the elite Gallaudet University with its extensive programs for the deaf. But the members of Dumb aren't always willing to play nice - members are alternately apathetic, diva-licious, angry, shy and outright incompetent. Piper has her work cut out for her as she tries to meld the five distinct flavors of Dumb into one harmonious sound.

I love pretty much everything in this book. For one thing, it doesn't follow the "standard" band storyline I've seen in so many movies. You know how it goes - band experiences sky rocketing fame, then falls into the temptations of sex, drugs and rock and roll, before diving into a self-destructive spiral that only ends when everyone hates each other and/or someone is dead. Instead, Dumb starts as dysfunctional - they only know three songs, and they're all covers. The band consists of a lead singer, a bassist, and a guitarist who only knows three chords. So first Piper recruits a drummer. Then the lead singer insists on bringing the school's resident hot chick into the mix - even though she has no discernible talent. It's a complete and absolute mess all around, but Piper - driven by desperation for money and approval - keeps on going.

Piper is far from perfect. She is not Inspirationally Disadvantaged, nor is she the Disabled Snarker or any number of other tropes for the disabled that pop up often in the media. Yes, Piper is deaf, and this has clearly profoundly affected her life. Sometimes she's bitter about it - or at least bitter that her sister is able to benefit from her treatment in ways Piper never could have. She's clearly not a saint, and pulls some really crummy moves in her desperate attempts at achieving stardom for Dumb. She is the very definition of a well-rounded character, and it's wonderful to watch her grow as a character throughout the story.

Five Flavors of Dumb also gets major bonus points for the subtle "Girl Power" message. Dumb ends up with two female band members, and they absolutely don't get along initially - but it's also because one doesn't respect the other's ability, not out of any catfighting scenario. And the two band members and Piper end up banding together at a crucial moment to offer each other support. John doesn't call explicit attention to these moments, but I've seen so many stories where girls have superficial friendships, or no female friendships at all, that's it's just fantastic to see these complex relationships play out in a totally natural way.

More bonus points, coming from this non-music person: John weaves a mini-lecture on the Seattle music scene into the story. Seattle, of course, has been home to some of American music's most influential players, and Piper is introduced to two of them via a mysterious scavenger hunt: Kurt Cobain and Jimi Hendrix. The scenes that play out around the search for Hendrix's childhood home are especially moving.

And I know this review is getting long, but one last comment - what an AWESOME cover! It totally embodies the rock and roll feeling of the novel. I have so much love for this one, I'm surprised that I only found out about it through my library's "Teen Scene" newsletter - usually by the time that arrives in my mailbox I've read or requested every title! So thanks, Queens Library, for pointing this one out!

Review: Blindsided by Priscilla Cummings

As I mentioned in my fall preview post, this is the first of two books featuring blind protagonists that has come out this fall. I always find it interesting when similar books pop up in close succession. Two books about blind girls aren't enough to make a trend, but combine this with The Dark Days of Hamburger Halpin and Out of My Mind, and it looks like we're finally getting some stories starring fully-realized protagonists with disabilities.

Natalie O'Reilly was born without irises, making her eyes extremely sensitive to light and, despite multiple surgeries over the years, is causing her vision to slowly deteriorate. By the time she's 14, she has only a narrow band of vision left when the decision is made that she should start attending a special school for the blind to prepare for her inevitable loss of vision.

Natalie goes to school, reluctantly, always hoping for a miracle that will restore her sight - or at least stop the deterioration. She's convinced that half of the classes don't apply to her, and hopes never to use the skills taught in the other classes. Whether she wants to or not, however, Natalie is learning important lessons about herself, about her abilities, and about friendship.

While Natalie has some complexity to her character, I should note that this is much more of an "issue" novel than Hamburger Halpin or Out of My Mind. As you may be able to tell by the summary, there is little else going on here other than Natalie's struggle with her disability. Cummings does an excellent job of presenting the practicalities of losing ones sight as a teenager - learning Braille, using a cane, relying on other senses - but considering they make up the bulk of the novel, it's a little short on compelling story-telling.

There's also far too much amazement at what blind people can do - walk a whole mile from the bus stop! Travel to Scotland! Learn self defense! While these facts can certainly seem amazing to someone without experience with disabilities, the repeated emphasis is patronizing and is part of what turns this more into an issue novel, rather than a coming of age story that just so happens to have a blind protagonist.

Cummings does do an excellent job with Natalie's voice. She is the right blend of bratty teenager and sympathetic narrator. 14 is hard for anyone - I can only imagine the difficulties with also having to adapt to losing your vision and changing schools. A lot of Natalie's frustration is totally waranted, and when she does go into extremes of anger or self-pity, well, that's what being 14 is about half the time. By balancing the extremes of negative emotions with genuine moments of compassion and kindness as Natalie grows, Cummings creates a sympathetic and realistic character.

Review: The Snowball Effect by Holly Nicole Hoxter

The first line of the jacket copy on this book made me thing I was in for a quirky-dark family comedy of sorts "18 year old Lainey Pike can tell you everything you need to know about the people in her family just by telling you how they died." Death is serious, of course, but am I the only one who finds that to be a mildly amusing way to introduce the topic?

I've always had a morbid sense of humor.

Lainey's family is unconventional - she hardly knows her older half-sister, Vallery, as she spent most of her life living with her dad. Her younger brother, Collin, is adopted and has behavioral issues ranging from being on the autism spectrum to ADHD. The three are thrust together to make a new family after their mother kills herself in the basement laundry room.

Lainey is angry and confused. At her mom. At her sister. Even at her long term boyfriend, who is kind and sweet and loving, even with Collin. But the end of high school marks a major life transition, even when half of your family hasn't dropped dead, and Lainey is wondering whether the path she's always had set before her is where she belongs.

Lainey and Vallery are definitely the best developed characters in the book. I kind of got frustrated with how little time was devoted to Collin - he's the whole reason Vallery comes into the story after all. His behavioral and/or developmental issues make communication difficult, but really no one, not even his teachers (who are trained to deal with emotional and developmental difficulties), questions whether his behavior may stem from grief and/or abandonment issues? The boy was adopted as a toddler, so he was in the foster care system for awhile before being adopted, and in short order his adoptive father and mother die violently (motorcycle accident and suicide by hanging). It seemed like sloppy character development, or lack thereof - throw in a character with a disability so the disability can stand in place of a personality.

On the other hand, I loved Lainey's romantic turmoil, between her long-term safe and stable boyfriend, and the rugged, drifter new guy she meets at the 7-11 when she doesn't have the cash for a Slurpee. What's great is Hoxter doesn't give us any easy answers - this isn't the classic love triangle with Lainey pining between the two boys. There's ambiguity here in the relationships and Lainey's feelings. So much YA ends with the lead couple declaring their undying love for each other - and while I don't doubt people feel that way at times, it seems like Lainey's dilemma must be more common.

Review: God is in the Pancakes by Robin Epstein

Found via: Publisher's Weekly 5/10



While the recipe for pancakes is relatively simple (especially if you're like me and rely on Bisquick to provide two-thirds of your recipe), the recipe for a great novel is much more difficult. Robin Epstein, however, has taken disparate ingredients - coming of age, intergenerational relationships, a pinch of romance, and heavy questions of faith and life and death - to concoct a delicious story.


Grace is 15 and has just started her first real job as a candy striper at the local retirement home. The highlight of the position is befriend Frank Sands, who suffers from Lou Gherig's disease. He teaches Grace how to play cards and encourages her dry wit and humor and, unexpectedly, asks her to help him die.

Grace is bewildered and initially refuses. She has too much going on in her life with her overdramatic sister and her sleezy boyfriend, her dad who just walked out, and her best friend Eric is suddenly catching her romantic attention - along with the attentions of half of the girls in school. Plus, while he's lost the use of his legs, Mr. Sands with otherwise healthy, and medical miracles happen all the time, don't they?

As Mr. Sands takes a turn for the worse, Grace finally meets his wife Isabelle, and finds herself even more torn. Mr. Sands is obviously losing his fight, but how can she be responsible for the death of Izzy's husband? They are both her friends, and she doesn't want to hurt either of them. As she turns to a god she thought she abandoned when her father moved out, Grace finds herself wrestling with difficult decisions that are way over her head, but she is determined to handle them with all the maturity and strength she can.

I love, love, love Grace. Her voice is totally authentic, believably teen-aged without resorting to or relying on slang and pop culture references. Outside of her struggle and debate over euthanasia, her problems and the way she deals with them are totally relate-able.

Her friendships with Mr. Sands and Izzy, however, are what make this novel stand out. Neither of the adults talk down to Izzy or noticeably treat her as a child - which is perhaps why Mr. Sands feels it's okay to saddle the girl with such a burden as asking her to help him die. Grace keeps coming back to his request over the course of the novel, and there are no easy answers. It's impossible to say whether Grace's ultimate decision is the right one, but it's easy to understand why she felt it was the right one at the right time. Right up until the end, it was impossible to tell what Grace was going to decide.

The running motif of pancakes is fun - Grace used to share post-church pancake brunches with her father and sister, but that tradition falls by the wayside when her father walks out on the family. While Grace questions her faith in God, especially as he seems to refuse to give Grace any answers, she never questions pancakes' ability to make people feel better.

Review: Gringolandia by Lyn Miller-Lachmann

Found via: the author. Review copy received from the author

Somehow Gringolandia never made it onto my radar last year, even though it made the 2010 BBYA list. It's also now in the running for the Nerds Heart YA tournament (meaning I've now read 10 of the 32 nominated titles, lol). So when Lyn Miller-Lachman contacted me to ask if I wanted to review it (also graciously offering to send a copy to me since she knew my local library had never been able to get it) I was excited and happy to accept!

In October 1980, young Daniel Aguilar wakes up in the middle of the night to the sounds of soldiers - not uncommon in Pinochet's Chile, but this time they're inside his apartment, looking for his father, Marcelo. When they pull his father from hiding, they make Daniel watch as they deliver a bloody beating before carting the man away to prison.

Six years later, Daniel is now a junior in high school in Wisconsin. His mother escaped Chile with him and his sister in tow and have made a new life for themselves in Gringolandia, ironically the country that empowered the dictator responsible for Marcelo's imprisonment. Daniel's new life includes reggae music, playing Latin American songs in church, and dating the pastor's daughter, Courtney. Life is turned upside down, however, with the sudden news that Marcelo's been freed and will be joining his family in the United States.

Six years in prison have left Marcelo a changed man - he was tortured and brutalized in prison, leaving half of his body partially paralyzed. He drinks to excess, alternately ignoring and berating his family. Before his imprisonment he was a great writer, but now every word is a struggle. He desperately wants to continue writing, telling his story and the stories of his fellow prisoners to encourage people to fight to remove Pinochet from power, but his injuries make it nearly impossible - until Courtney steps in. An AP Spanish student preparing to go to college in the fall, she is captivated by Marcelo's story and works tirelessly to re-write his stories and translate them into English. Daniel isn't sure what to think of his girlfriend becoming so involved in his father's life, but if it makes his father happy, Daniel will go along with it, hoping that the work will help heal his father and open up the opportunity for a real relationship again.

Once again, here's an historical fiction novel highlighting an aspect of history I knew next to nothing about. An author's note in the beginning gives the background on the dictator Pinochet's rise to power (Chile's elected president in 1970 was a socialist, which of course the US didn't like, so they supported a coup in '73 that brought in Pinochet) and the novel itself covers some of Marcelo's imprisonment and torture as well as efforts in the United States to free him and other political prisoners before finally giving us a brief look at life in Chile after Pinochet.

I found myself of two minds about this book. The story is absolutely compelling and fascinating and horrifying - but I never connected with Daniel or Courtney (who narrates a portion in the middle). They never really sounded like teenagers, I suppose, though they certainly had the impulsive actions of teenagers.

Also, there was a minor bit about Courtney that came up a couple of times that, as a native of Michigan, drove me up a wall. I have never heard of people in Michigan taking French in high school because we're "so close" to Canada. Michigan borders Ontario, which speaks English - it's when you get closer to Quebec that you have to start thinking of speaking French, and there's roughly 600 miles between Bloomfield Hills, MI (where Courtney is originally from) and Montreal, Quebec. I can't find a comprehensive biography of Miller-Lachmann, so I don't know if she grew up in Michigan and this was how people chose a high school language back when she lived here, or if it was conjecture, or what. But really, that's the only specific criticism I have here - and she gets kudos for realizing that in Wisconsin they drink pop :-)

So while the bit about French was annoying, and the characters weren't the most relateable I've read about, the compelling story kept me going forward and I can definitely appreciate the positive reviews and accolades this has received so far. I'll definitely be interested to see how far this progresses in the Nerds Heart YA tournament!

Tonight I'm planning on seeing Lyn Miller-Lachmann speak with Peter Marion and Andrew Xiu Fukuda at the Battery Park City library where they will be speaking about the real crimes that inspired their books. I can't wait!

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?

Review: Out of My Mind by Sharon Draper

Found via: Cindy at Bookends

OMG, I loved this book. It kept making me want to cry, mostly from sheer loveliness and happiness. What a beautiful book.

Melody is 11 years old, and has never spoken a word. She was born with severe cerebral palsy, so she has spent her life in a wheelchair, unable to feed, dress or bathe herself. A board attached to her chair filled with basic nouns and verbs is essentially her only means of communication. She has spent all of her school years in the special education classroom with other children with a variety of cognitive disabilities, but at the start of 5th grade, the school begins an inclusion program, introducing the special education students to selected mainstream classrooms.

Most exciting for Melody is the introduction of a personal aide, who helps Melody obtain a personal communication device - essentially a computer that Melody can program to speak for her. It is the gift she's been waiting for her entire life, as she is finally able to prove to skeptical teachers and classmates that she is just as smart - if not smarter - than they are. When the history class begins preparing for the quiz bowl, Melody shocks them all by acing the practice quiz. And the try-out quiz, securing herself a spot on the team.

This book is filled with moments of happiness and tragedy. I about lost it when Melody finally got her computer (named Elvira after her favorite country western song) and can tell her parents she loved them. It wasn't just that she was able to speak to her parents, but that her dad also had out his trusty video camera, which hadn't been focused on Melody much since it became clear she wouldn't pass the usual developmental milestones. Her little sister, Penny, was born completely normal, and has been the main focus of the family movies for the past two years. Melody had felt slightly envious watching her sister do all the things she'll never be able to do, so the first time she was able to really speak was beautiful.

Because Melody has essentially a photographic memory, she knows hundreds of thousands of words and facts, and Draper puts all of them to good use in the narrative. This is a beautifully written book, and since we spend so much time in Melody's head, with literally no way for her to communicate with anyone other than us, it is a very intimate read, which leads to Melody's triumphs and tragedies resonating much more with the reader than they might usually. Highly, highly recommend this to everyone, and I fully expect to see it winning some awards next January!

Review: Marcelo in the Real World by Francisco X. Stork

Winner: 2010 Schneider Family Book Award

I've been hearing wonderful things about Marcelo in the Real World for months. Everyone seems to love it. Lots of people were saying it was going to win the Printz (and then were stunned when it didn't even get an honor). But I held back. Because everyone was describing this as a book about an autistic kid, and that's a touchy subject for me; if you don't get the description of autism right I'll immediately shut the book and walk away. It's a subject that hits too close to home for me so I'm wary about what I'll pick up just to save myself the stress.

It turns out people just need to be a lot more accurate in their descriptions of Marcelo. He is not autistic; he hasn't even been diagnosed with Asperger syndrome. Instead he's on the autism spectrum in an unidentifiable way. This seemed to me an excellent way to present Marcelo: not only does it highlight the wide variety of ways that autism can present itself, but Stork could describe Marcelo and his disabilities however he wanted, and since Marcelo didn't have a medical label attached to him, there was really no wrong way to go.

In case you've been living under a rock, here's the quick story: it's the summer before Marcelo's last year of high school and he's extremely excited to pick up his summer job working with the ponies at Paterson, his private school for children with disabilities. His father, a powerful lawyer, however, has other plans: Marcelo needs to get out into the real world and interact with other people, because he wants to send Marcelo to the public high school for his senior year. The two make a deal: Marcelo will work in the mail room at the law firm for the summer and if he's successful he will get to go back to Paterson for his senior year. If he fails, then it's off to public school. While going through some routine files, Marcelo uncovers a mysterious photograph: a girl with a horribly scarred face. The picture obviously relates to the case his father is currently defending, but is filed to be thrown out rather than be kept with the rest of the evidence. Marcelo and Jasmine, his boss in the mail room, begin an investigation of their own, giving Marcelo some of his greatest real world lessons in friendship, work and doing the right thing.

The law firm setting is absolutely perfect for exploring ideas of right and wrong and the rules of social interaction that Marcelo is supposed to absorb over his summer. The legal system is murky, and in this case Marcelo's father is defending a company that is accused of making dangerous windshields that crack into dangerous shards rather than tiny little pieces in an accident. The company doesn't want to settle any of its lawsuits out of court, but then Marcelo overhears his father discussing a possible settlement with a high-powered lawyer while absolutely refusing a settlement with another lawyer representing a poor client. It's a confusing set of social mores for the best of us, and especially confusing for someone like Marcelo who is used to seeing the world in relatively black and white terms.

Another great/terrible addition is Wendell, the son of the other major partner in the law firm. Wendell is a slimeball. I felt creepy just reading about him. He is the exact opposite of the kind and open Marcelo and I wanted to punch him in the face several times, an excellent quality in the "villain" of the story. So he's great because he functions exactly how the bad guy should, but terrible because he's so creepy and manipulative.

There's a great bit of narration in the novel that describes Marcelo perfectly, after hearing from Jasmine that his father described him as having a cognitive disorder:

He has always insisted that there's nothing wrong with me. The term "cognitive disorder" implies that there is something wrong with the way I think or with the way I perceive reality. I perceive reality just fine. Sometimes I perceive more of reality than others

It's constantly apparent that there is something different about Marcelo. He'll slip into speaking in the third person. He hears what he calls internal music that no one else can sense. He is almost obsessive over studying religion and has to be reminded not to quote scripture or correct or cite quotations that have slipped into idiomatic usage. But this difference is impossible to define. I can see why people have used autistic or Asperger to describe Marcelo, but neither is quite right. I'm very glad I got over my own hesitations and picked this one up. I'm a terrible judge at what should win the major prizes, but I can definitely see why people would be surprised this one didn't get any major recognitions.

Review: Border Crossing by Jessica Lee Anderson

Found via GalleyCat

Books about mental illness can be tricky things. It's easy to go over the top or get overtly sentimental and sad about such a debilitating condition. But I was still curious about Border Crossing, in no small part because it's also about a person of color. "Issue" books often seem to want to focus on only one issue at a time - thus characters default to white. Here, Anderson has created a compelling half-Mexican teen protagonist who is also struggling with the onset of schizophrenia.

Manz, the son of a Mexican immigrant father and a white mother, has never had an easy life. When his parents worked as apple pickers, they were moving constantly. After his father's death, he and his mom settled down, but life didn't get any easier. She's a hard drinker who's had a series of boyfriends. She seems to have settled down somewhat with Tom, but there are still lingering problems - like memories of the child she miscarried several years ago.

Now, Manz wants nothing more than to get out of his small Texas town, populated with lots of people who don't take kindly to having a Mexican, or even a half-Mexican, in their midst. Manz works as a day laborer, along with his friend Jed, in order to earn as much cash as he can towards getting the hell out of Rockhill.

But as the summer wears on, Manz finds himself becoming increasingly paranoid. People are listening to his thoughts and laughing at him behind his back. His friends and family are concerned about him, but the voices tell him they actually want him dead. He begins to wonder if maybe it really would be better if he were dead, and if maybe these were the same thoughts his dad was having before his fatal car crash.

Anderson does a great job weaving Manz's identity as a Mexican-American into his illness - Manz is paranoid immigration officers will think he's actually an illegal immigrant and deport him, or worse. It adds an element of personalization to the story - this could only be Manz's story, no one else's. One thing I would have liked to see, however, is a more immersive experience; even though it's a first person story, it's very clear to the reader when Manz is giving into the paranoia. I would have loved to see the lines between fantasy and reality much more blurred, so that the reader becomes part of Manz's delusions.

There's also a subplot involving Jed's family that just felt unnecessary in the context of the larger story. Jed has an abusive father, and Jed is the only one that stands up to him. But this has no larger influence on the plot; it's not like Jed's father's violent tendencies play into Manz's paranoia or anything. I felt it ultimately detracted from Manz's story.

Back on positive notes, I also like how this doesn't have a pat ending. Manz isn't cured by the end of the book, though he is in treatment. Anderson does a good job of showing that medicines and therapy aren't a magic cure, and that Manz still has a long way to go in the treatment of his illness.

Also positive: not a whitewashed cover!

Good on Milkweed Editions - who sound like very cool publishers. They're a non-profit that "publishes with the intention of making a humane impact on society, in the belief that literature is a transformative art, uniquely able to convey the essential experiences of the human heart and spirit." Which is pretty darn awesome if you ask me.

Book thoughts: As if we didn't have enough privileges to deal with...

Saw a link this morning through @PWKidsBookshelf to a Salon article: Why is Braille Dying?.

Apparently only 10% of blind kids today learn Braille. Apparently even the governor of New York doesn't read Braille. Instead, blind people are relying upon audio books, text-to-speech translators, or good old fashioned personal assistants to convey the printed word to the visually impaired. The Salon bloggers (the byline is for Stephen Towey and Helen Cota), however, seem to think this is a great travesty, because their minds wander while listening to audio books and there are studies that show we process audio information differently than printed information. There is no mention however that this difference in processing is inferior, or if these studies have been conducted using people who don't have the option of reading visually.

Ultimately, the entire blog post comes off as the biggest piece of ableist blogging I've seen in a long time.

What do I mean by ableist? This article totaly privileges the neurotypical and physically typical reading experience. Now, if it were a pair of blind bloggers bemoaning the lack of Braille literacy that would be one thing, as the NYT article that inspired the Salon bloggers includes, but judging from the Salon bloggers' home blog, they wear glasses but aren't legally blind. This is akin to people with normal hearing insisting cochlear implants are necessary for deaf children, or a white person explaining to everyone upset by Bloomsbury that the publishers didn't actually do something racist, or a man mansplaining feminism to us poor little women.

I'm sure the authors meant well - after all, all of us who care about books and reading are invested in improving literacy and wanting as many people as possible to share our passion for the written word. But to claim that our way of reading is superior to other forms of information attainment is able-ist and patronizing.

Review: Perfect Chemistry by Simone Ekeles

Found Via: A Chaire, a Fireplace & a Tea Cozy

Apparently I'm stuck on "perfection" this week! Unfortunately, that really only extends to the title on this one - unlike Almost Perfect, I wasn't really enamored with this one.

Perfect Chemistry is the age-old story of Romeo & Juliet, with a little bit of Pygmalion thrown in for good measure, only this time there's Brittany Ellis, who is rich and white with parents who expect nothing less than perfection from her, and Alejandro "Alex" Fuentes, who is a Mexican immigrant (at least I'm pretty sure he was born in Mexico - he may be Mexican-American) and a reluctant gang member focused on keeping his family safe in dangerous gang turf. It's the beginning of senior year and a strict chemistry teacher forces Alex and Brittany to sit together, despite the fact the two seem to hate each other. Even though Brittany is initially terrified of Alex, romance blossoms.

When I was reading this book, I tweeted that Alex was creeping me out "like Edward Cullen-style creep out." Because this book seems to suffer from the same delusion as Twilight: boys that are mean to you are, in fact, irrepressibly sexy. Alex constantly sexually harasses Brittany (he says in their introductions in chemistry class that she wants to have sex with him, even though that's demonstrably not the case), he briefly kidnaps her, and is just generally an unpleasant person. Brittany isn't the nicest person at the beginning, either, but since her insults don't go much beyond "Fuck you" and she can't physically force Alex to do anything, she doesn't come off as nearly abusive. The Pygmalion aspect comes from Alex accepting a bet from his buddies that he'll be able to sleep with Brittany, despite the fact that when this bet is made she's happily dating a dreamy boy (that happens to share her & Alex's chemistry class, and assumes the worst of Brittany in the face of Alex's taunts. So yeah, he's not really that dreamy, either).

The positive notes on this novel come when the story strays from the romance and show Brittany and Alex's home lives. Alex is an unwilling rising star in his gang - he only joined to protect his family and is dead set against either of his younger brothers being recruited into the gang. Alex's family life is one of the most compelling parts of the novel, and is utterly heart breaking at times. Brittany's parents, on the other hand, seem to put up the veneer of perfection in order to compensate for Brittany's older sister with cerebral palsy. Another heart breaking family story, as it seems that Brittany is the only one who really looks out for and cares about her sister.

Stories like this are why I generally don't wander into the romance genre. It's one thing to play on the trope of opposites attracting, but it's a whole other thing when one of the "opposites" is as malicious and scary as Alex gets.

The discussion is still going on yesterday's What About Team Bella? post, so if you haven't checked it out already, pop over there!

Review: Breathless by Jessica Warman

Found via: BBYA 2010 Nominations

Oh man. Stories about disabled and/or mentally ill siblings always get to me. At least once during every one of these books I ask myself why I'm torturing myself so. Not because they're inherently bad, but they just hit a little too close to home sometimes.

Katie and her brother have always been extremely close - as children of some privilege in a town where graduating high school without having had a baby first is an accomplishment. Katie is a gifted swimmer and extremely intelligent, and Will was a great athlete - until a combination of extreme bullying and drug use exacerbated his latent schizophrenia.

It's been a few years since his diagnosis, and Will has been in and out of various hospitals while Katie has been trudging on through her unexceptional school. But when Will's behavior turns from idiosyncratic to violent, their parents believe the best solution is to send Katie to a boarding school with a prestigious swim team - and do all they can to limit contact between the siblings.

The novel takes place over the Katie's high school career, from sophomore year - where she's one of two new students at the boarding school, since usually everyone comes in together as freshmen - through graduation. Katie deals with many of the usual high school foibles - fitting in with new friends, dating, sex, drinking and drugs. In fact, if you can pull out a YA lit school trope, it probably pops up in this book. Sometimes it feels a little too crammed with Katie's various problems.

Since the book covers a relatively long period of time (including a Harry Potter-esque epilogue ten years after the final chapter), we get to really see how some of Katie's decisions at the beginning of the book affect her over the years. On the other hand, since so much time is covered there are big gaps in time and so occasionally there are info-dump paragraphs where we're told of everything significant that happened between chapters. Off-puttingly, the book actually opens with such an info-dump, giving us the family history for a couple of pages before picking up with Katie and Will smoking on the roof of their house (their usual hangout).

Reading this immediately after The Road of Lost Innocence wasn't the best plan, which may have colored my feelings a little bit. Not that the two books have anything in common, aside from being "downers" of varying degrees. Friday's review will be of Amy Efaw's After, another unhappy title. Is it any wonder that I was craving something upbeat and happy?! So next week expect the review for Into the Wild Nerd Yonder, yesterday's Teaser Tuesday pick.

Double Review: "Gone" and "Hunger" by Michael Grant

Michael Grant and I go way back. Well, not personally, but my first intense fandom was Animorphs which Grant co-wrote with his wife, K.A. Applegate (at least according to Grant's twitter page).

So knowing the author was one reason I picked up the series, but I also love reading the "adults disappear" genre - how many books have sprung from the premise that all of the adults mysteriously disappear? And added in to this one is the kids developing super powers. This has gotta be fun, right?

Set in a bit of California colloquially known as Fallout Alley, officially Perdido Beach, after an accident at the nuclear power plant 15 years before (a meteorite hit the plant and kept right on going, burying itself deep underground), on one normal fall day in the middle of school and everything, all of the adults and teenagers over 15 disappear. Poof. One minute they're there, the next they aren't.

It's a terrifying time - the first couple of days are spent getting their bearings. Finding someone to take care of the infants in day care, keeping curious 5 year olds from setting fire to their houses, and discovering that some of the kids aren't just normal kids anymore: they've started to develop super powers.

Not to mention that there's also some sort of barrier around the whole town, meaning that the kids of Perdido Beach only have a bit of land with a ten mile radius to live in. There's no way of knowing what's outside of the barrier; perhaps that's where their parents are and are trying to get back in to Perdido Beach. Or perhaps Fallout Alley is all that's left of humanity?

There's another group of kids in Fallout Alley as well, Coates Academy, a private boarding school for kids with "problems." While the Perdido Beach kids are nominally led by Sam, a local hero for his quick thinking when his bus driver had a heart attack, the Coates Academy kids are led by the charismatic - and at least slightly dangerous - Caine. It turns out Caine has developed super powers as well - he has telekinesis - and has a raging case of megalomania with a burning need to be in charge and to be the most powerful of anyone in Fallout Alley. Gone follows Sam's struggles to establish some order in the town and protect the kids from Caine, while Hunger focuses on the next logical step: when you have a finite amount of space and over 300 kids to feed, food starts running out fast. Caine is still trying to wrest control of Fallout Alley from Sam, but has to deal with the crippling effects of hunger on himself and his Coates Academy minions, plus the ever present pull of the mysterious "Darkness," an entity that lives below the ground in Perdido Beach and seems intent on killing all of the humans.

These are big, action packed books, with some really great characters. Grant has absolutely nailed some of these characters; Astrid, Sam's girlfriend, has a little brother named Pete who is autistic. I absolutely love how Grant portrays Astrid's conflicting feelings about her brother: she absolutely loves him and wants to protect him, but his lack of communication and stubbornness drive her up a wall sometimes. I have a younger autistic brother myself, and that is exactly how I feel about him sometimes. However, I'm also worried that Grant is going to drift into the autistic savant trope with Little Pete - Pete is extremely un-communicative, yet he may have the most powerful superpower in all of Fallout Alley.

Also in the first book I was getting extremely frustrated by how roles in the town were being apparently divided by gender: all of the girls were extremely nurturing and caring while the boys were off having the adventures (Astrid was sometimes along for the adventure, but she was there more for her brain than taking part in anything exciting). The second book introduced a little more variety in the girls - there's even an African American lesbian with superpowers - but more could be done.

While I definitely enjoyed the first two books, I really wonder how the drama and tension is going to last for six books. Right now it feels more like this should have been a trilogy - after all, at the end of Hunger they do figure out some things to do about the food situation, but a ten mile radius, some of which is desert or rocks or ocean, doesn't provide a lot of space for growing food for 300+ people. But I'm anxiously waiting for the next book, which comes out in May 2010.

Review: Eon: Dragoneye Reborn by Alison Goodman

Usually when books start talking about magic and dragons, I turn and run in the opposite direction. But, running low on book recommendations, I decided to add this one to my library list after seeing it on the BBYA nominations page.

I am SO GLAD I did.

For one thing, it turns out I already love the author. I picked up Goodman's Singing the Dogstar Blues in galley form way back in the day (I forget if I got it at ALA or if I picked it up at the end of the year at BBYA) and absolutely loved it. Brilliant science fiction, great family relationships, and an absolutely touching storyline about the AIDS quilt. I didn't recognize Goodman's name at first, but I glanced at her author bio once I had the book in my hands and immediately got excited.

Despite this being a monstrous-ly sized book, I absolutely couldn't put it down and finished it in less than two days.

The story follows Eon as she tries to maneuver through a treacherous world of political intrigue, hidden identities, and physical danger. Eon was chosen to train to become a Dragoneye apprentice - one of the few who have the ability to commune with and draw power from 11 ancient dragons. However, life has not made this easy for Eon: for one, she has a crippled leg and is often seen as an evil omen by more able-bodied people, and secondly, she is a 16 year old girl, and in order to become a Dragoneye one must be a 12 year old boy. But Eon has an unheard of gift: even without Dragoneye training, she can see not just one dragon, but all 11, so Master Brannon conspires with the girl to turn her from Eona into Candidate, and hopefully Apprentice, Eon.

But soon, Eon is facing more pressure than just hiding her gender. She is not chosen by the Rat Dragon - the one that is coming to power for the new year - rather, she is chosen by the Mirror Dragon, an ancient dragon that had disappeared 500 years prior. She is now a target, as the Rat Dragoneye has no desire to share the year with a crippled Mirror Dragoneye. Combine this with an aging emperor with a bloodthirsty brother who would do anything to sit on the throne himself, Eon has a lot more to deal with than she signed up for when she agreed to live and train as a boy.

The culture of the book, what Goodman identifies as a fantasy inspired by the legends and culture of China and Japan, is rich and fascinating. Superb worldbuilding here, and it is introduced slowly - there are no big information dumps that wouldn't make sense in the context of the story. The reader is left to piece together the larger parts of the culture through the bits of detailed information that are fed to Eon as she rises in status and enters the imperial court. The action is excellent and fast paced, the political intrigue is filled with tension, and of course there is the constant question: will Eon's identity be discovered?

I absolutely CANNOT WAIT for the sequel to this!

Review: My Most Excellent Year: A Novel of Love, Mary Poppins and Fenway Park by Steve Kluger

It was definitely the subtitle that got me to read this book. Love, Mary Poppins and baseball (and not just baseball, but the poor Red Sox)? I had to know what it was about.

The story of TC's, Augie's and Ale's freshman year of high school is told mainly through diary entries, but also IMs, private chatrooms, text messages and e-mails. It's a sprawling story, chronicling more than a year in their lives, which makes summarizing this hard, but let's give it a shot.

TC and Augie have been best friends and brothers since elementary school when, shortly after TC's mother died, Augie was the only kid willing to talk to him. Since then they've done everything together, from sleepovers to family vacations. Augie puts up with TC's obsession with baseball, while TC tries to follow Augie's passion for musicals (turns out that Augie is gay and everyone but him knows it).

Ale, meanwhile, is the daughter of US diplomats - though she's more likely to start an international incident than follow in the family business. After her father retires from his position as ambassador, the family moves to Brookline, Massachusetts at the beginning of Ale's freshman year. TC is immediately smitten with Ale - who initially is determined to discourage TC's attention. She does, however, strike up a friendship with Augie when it comes time to produce the freshman talent show (Augie is director, Ale is producer). And of course where Augie goes, TC follows.

While TC is trying to woo Ale, he is also finishing up his baseball season where he has picked up a six-year-old deaf fan who tells TC when to swing at pitches. The boy, Hucky, is an orphan who has been bounced from foster home to foster home and has trust issues, but TC is as determined to bring this kid out of his shell as he is to get a date with Ale.

As Augie directs the freshman talent show, he not only befriends and mentors Ale, but also Andy - soccer player, swimmer, football fan and totally cute. Augie finds himself falling head over heels for the boy before he even realizes that it is a boy he is lusting after. Luckily, Andy feels the same way about Augie.

Ale takes dancing and singing classes, trying to keep her parents in the dark about her new-found hobbies. When not practicing or driving TC crazy, she pursues various social justice issues, from getting some of the more execrable songs cut from Kiss Me, Kate to building a baseball field at a memorial for the US Japanese internment camps of WWII (TC is helping with that one).

Yeah, like I said, there's a lot going on here, but most of it really works out. Sometimes I wondered about the convention of including e-mails and letters sent by parents and teachers - would the kids really have access to these to include them in a school paper? But other items, like Augie's mother's play reviews (a woman after my own heart - we're in agreement that Henry Higgins may be the worst character written for the stage EVER) add another fun level to the story. Also, sometimes it seems that Kluger got his electronic formats mixed up - when the kids were sending e-mails back and forth they would cut each other off. Which you definitely can't do in e-mail, and can't even do in most IM programs now (back in the day when I used ICQ there was a chat version that let you see what the other person was saying as they typed it, so theoretically you could cut someone off in that)

I do have to say I caught the book in a (relatively) big continuity problem. The book explicitly states that their freshman year was 2003. Yet Ale implies that Augie only discovered the musical Chicago in December of that year. Trust me, any musical fan worth his or her salt saw the movie version of Chicago back in 2001.

The relationship between Hucky and TC feels perhaps the most authentic in the book, followed closely by Ale and TC. The lengths TC goes to to make Hucky's life better are heartwarming. And the development of Ale's and TC's relationship definitely feels real.

And now, because this is a running theme for me, commentary on the gay characters: on the one hand, Augie and Andy are treated like any other couple. Augie's parents don't care (I don't believe we ever heard what Andy's parents thought), TC says "Duh" when Augie comes out over IM, and in their private e-mails Augie's dad wonders if "this generation" has made coming out superfluous. On the other hand, Augie is one big stereotype. He addresses a "Diva of the Week" in his diary, writing to Liza Minelli or Judy Garland (TC addresses his mom in his diary, and Ale spends most of her time writing to Jackie Kennedy, when really Eleanor Roosevelt seems like a first lady after Ale's own heart). Yes, he can also kick a soccer ball around, but after he starts going out with Andy it seems most of the sports drop out of his life. So points for treating a gay character like everyone else, but I would love to see a gay boy who is, I don't know, a big academic geek or something. They all seem to be either queens who love mince around singing show tunes or, in an effort to buck that stereotype, athletes. Here, Augie tries to be both of those (with more emphasis on the show tunes), but still comes off as a stereotype.

And yet, while Augie is quite stereotypical in some regards, I did appreciate the glimpses at his and Andy's relationship. In some ways it's not as well-rounded as TC's and Ale's, but that's partly because with Augie and Andy we only get Augie's diary on the relationship, while both TC and Ale contribute their own halves to the story.

So while on one level I can find lots of things to nitpick about this story, overall it comes across very well and was extremely enjoyable.