Pink by Lili Wilkinson

I was super excited for this book - Australia, theater, and, most importantly, a bisexual protagonist! And in fact, there are lots of small things to love here, but I was never quite sold on our protagonist.

Ava has always been a dutiful daughter - going with the flow at her public high school, eschewing pink (and most other colors) from her utilitarian wardrobe, and spending lots of time with her radical anarchist girlfriend. Did I mention that Ava's parents are anti-establishment types? But Ava yearns for some normalcy in her life - demanding academics, pink argyle sweaters, and maybe even a boyfriend or two. So she convinces her parents that she should start attending a rigorous private school, a place where no one knows the old Ava and she can make herself over without anyone from her old life commenting on the change.

While her new look immediately ingratiates Ava with the popular "pastels" of the school, that doesn't make her new life easy. Joining the stage crew of the school musical (after an epic crash and burn at the actual auditions) in order to be close to the cutest boy on campus, Ava finds the "Screws" are the school's social lepers - and decides that she's now qualified to give them a social leg up even while she's precariously balancing her new social status, and hiding her new self from her old girlfriend and family. Most troubling to Ava is balancing her emotions - she still feels close to her girlfriend Chloe, but she undeniably finds the lead guy in the musical hot, and then there's the cute and helpful leader of the Screws who makes her feel all sorts of confused. Which Ava is the real Ava? And will she ever become comfortable with herself?

For me, Ava herself was the biggest problem of the story, in that she doesn't seem to actually grow in any meaningful way. The best illustration of this for me was when she tried to play matchmaker among the Screws, and it fails miserably, in part because Ava makes a lot of assumptions about the people whose hearts she's toying with. But in the end, Ava pulls the exact same stunt...only because it's a platonic set up everyone's okay with it? Also I have to say that while I love having a character proudly call herself a feminist, Ava has some extremely retrograde and ill-informed feminist thoughts. Which would be okay if she'd come up with them independently but considering her parents are professors and should be on the cutting edge of gender studies, it doesn't make sense that Ava would be so incredibly wrong sometimes (and really, asking the kid of Asian descent where he's "really" from? Wow, not okay. And that's pointed out in the text, but is again illustrative of just how out of touch with progressive and feminist thought Ava is).

BUT, it is encouraging to see a story with a bisexual protagonist - not that Ava uses the label for herself, but it's probably the closest label that fits. She makes it very clear that her relationship with Chloe is real and important and certainly not just a phase, and while it's a little preachy I did feel it was important to include some acknowledgement of the legitimacy of that relationship to make it clear that Ava wasn't just a lesbian until the "right guy" came along to straighten her out.

Also, science fiction geeks will have a lot of fun with Ava's stage crew friends, as they are huge nerds. In a delightful way. Lots of discussions of Star Trek and Lord of the Rings and zombies and...just general geekery. Gotta love that.

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.

Review: The Latte Rebellion by Sarah Jamila Stevenson

Found via: Reading in Color

I was super excited going into The Latte Rebellion, not only because it's one of the few YA books to prominently and proudly feature multiracial characters, but because I was also part of founding a social justice club in my high school (a Gay-Straight Alliance). I had a lot of infrastructure to fall back on in my case, as opposed to the creation of a new movement from the ground up as Asha, Carey and Miranda do here, but there were enough similarities that I was quite excited. And for the most part, the book doesn't disappoint.

It all started as a joke, really. A small money-making venture to fund a pre-college vacation. Tired of being treated as foreign and somehow "less-than" by their peers, Asha and Carey found "The Latte Rebellion" - a website with a manifesto about recognizing that people don't always fit into one neat racial, ethnic or cultural category, and lots of links to buy their T-shirts. But almost overnight, the site goes viral and takes on a life of its own. Actual Latte Rebellion clubs spring up at high schools and colleges across the country - while ironically Asha's own high school refuses to recognize them, claiming that there isn't sufficient need for a club that openly embraces multiracial students.

Undeterred, Asha continues the rebellion, along with her friend Miranda, while Carey shies away from the increasing attention and time the rebellion takes away from her homework, work and relationships. Asha is nervous herself - especially as the rebellion continues to grow and attracts undesirable attention. But she is convinced of the rightness of her cause, and even as she faces severe repercussions for her involvement, Asha  is determined that the rebellion, and herself, is recognized as a positive force.

While in many ways this is very much a story about race, it is also about much broader and universal topics like self-confidence, friendship and education. I especially enjoyed how Asha's relationships mature and change over the course of the novel, as it reflects a lot of the changes people go through during life-altering events, even innocuous and positive ones like graduating high school and just growing up in general.

What held me back from unabashedly loving this is that a lot of the plot feels like it's based on coincidences rather than moving forward organically. I wasn't quite convinced with the reasoning for the school rejecting the Latte Rebellion in the first place, and the quick jump to conclusions about the purpose of the group seemed far too fast. Just a few too many negative coincidences to keep me totally immersed in the story. While I've read of complaints about the Latte Rebellion being organized as primarily a money-making venture, the only problem I had with the idea is that Asha and Carey still planned on keeping most/all of the money for themselves even as it became clear how important people felt the cause was. It seems to me like as soon as other people started getting involved, they would have demanded to know what the T-shirt profits were going to go towards. When it was just a couple of friends goofing off with a website, Asha and Carey were free to do whatever they wanted, but once real people in their lives got involved, it seems like the plan should have changed a bit.

Review: I Am J by Cris Beam

A book about a transgender teenage boy of color. Excellent. A book about a transgender teenage boy of color that I can recommend because it's a great book not just because it fills a void? Awesome.

For as long as he can remember, J has been positive that he is actually a boy. Unfortunately, the rest of the world doesn't see him that way - to his parents, he is still Jeni, their beloved daughter, despite the short hair, boxers, and baggy male clothes. All his life, J has hoped and prayed for some sort of miracle - that he'd wake up one day and be in the body he belongs in. A few months before his 18th birthday, the next best thing happens: he discovers testosterone shots, the best chance he has before surgery of starting to look how he feels.

Comfortable in his decision to truly live the way he sees himself, J still has a host of obstacles to overcome. Parents that don't want to lose their daughter. A self-absorbed best friend that J might have feelings for. And the cute girl at the downtown Starbucks that definitely has feelings for J - without knowing what he's hiding beneath his layers of clothes. But J is determined that nothing will distract him from his ultimate goal - living as the man he wants to be.

Some of J's struggles are incredibly intense. Reading about the discord between him and his parents was terribly painful, mostly because both of J's parents seem like real people. They're well-meaning, but flawed, blinded by their love for the child they want to be raising rather than the child they have. We see more of J's mother than his father, but his father still makes quite an impact on the scenes he's in.

I loved that, unlike many other LGBT novels, the angst and main conflict in this doesn't stem from J questioning his identity and freaking out over it - from page one J knows that he should have been born in the body of a boy, and the conflict arises from his struggle to get the rest of the world to recognize the validity of that feeling. However, I'm not quite sure I buy the fact that J didn't learn about testosterone or chest binders until he was almost 18 - not when he says he's seen pictures of sexual reassignment surgeries online. But it's about the only convenient coincidence in the novel, and having J learn about these at the start of the novel means we aren't subjected to awkward info-dumps on Trans 101.

This is a beautifully multicultural book - one that reflects what New York City actually looks like. All sizes, shapes, colors, genders, and sexual orientations are represented in a very organic way. The downside is this also means the darker side of people comes out sometimes - it was a little uncomfortable to see gay and trans characters calling bisexuals "gross," but it does go to show that just because you are a member of one oppressed group, that doesn't mean you magically understand and love all others.

Being a cisgendered woman, I can't comment on whether J's story is actually authentic or not - all I can say is that it feels totally real, both the good and the bad parts. Beam includes an author's note that details her research process - she's written a nonfiction book about transgender teen girls and the ideas for J's story sprung from her notes and research on transgender boys that didn't fit into her nonfiction work. She definitely seems like she's done the research, and has done an excellent job of shedding light on an under-represented community.

Reviewed from an ARC picked up at ALA annual 2010. I Am J is now available - check it out soon!

Review: Nothing by Janne Teller, translated by Martin Aitken

Nothing wasn't on my radar at all. And then it walked out of ALA with a Printz Honor, along with the Batchelder award for best translated novel. Suddenly it was a must-read, and that was even before I saw the summary

Set in a fictional town in Denmark, the lives of a class of seventh graders is turned upside down on the first day of school when Pierre Anthon seems to suffer an existential crisis. He stands up and declares that "nothing matters" so he isn't going to continue going to school. Instead he starts spending his day in a plum tree, pelting his former classmates alternately with plums or barbs about the uselessness of life.

So the class decides they need to prove to Pierre Anthon that there is meaning in life. They start collecting items that have meaning to them, and piling them up in an abandoned saw mill. When the heap of meaning doesn't seem to be impressive enough, the real challenge begins, as the students individually challenge each other one at a time to give up something meaningful. It starts small and simple - a pair of earrings, a pair of shoes, boxing gloves - before quickly escalating into hair, pets, adoption certificates and beyond.

The writing in this is just devastating and absolutely beautiful. The design is also top notch, as space is used with great effect. Every couple of chapters there's a page where Agnes foreshadows or drops a bomb on the reader that is only a line or two long and centered in the middle of the page. It's like a punch to the gut. Nothing good comes from of these pages.

Agnes is an excellent choice for a narrator. She is at once an outsider and a complicit accessory to the collection of meaning - her tribute is made fairly early so she gets off relatively easily, but she also plays a part in ramping up the escalation. She has a somewhat distant voice, and about halfway through she starts unexpectedly engaging in silly word play that made me wonder if a psychotic break was imminent. And then there's her aforementioned empty pages. An excellent and haunting choice.

The number one comparison this book seems to elicit is to Lord of the Flies, and I have to admit I haven't actually read that one. But from what I've heard, the comparisons are accurate. "The Lottery" is another one, though at least the violence in this one is explained, if no less senseless. It's not a happy book. I had to put the book down a couple of times, just for a moment to compose myself, as the tributes to the heap of meaning escalated. This is a book that will haunt its readers, and it's no wonder it was showered with multiple awards this year.

Review: Another Pan by Daniel & Dina Nayeri

I knew going in that this was a sequel of sorts to Another Faust, which I totally missed out on. However, I was interested enough in the Peter Pan aspect to want to give it a shot. Considering that the jacket makes no mention that this is part of a series, I figured I was in the clear. And in a way, I was: only one character returns here from Another Faust, and she seems to stand up well enough on her own. However, when it came to actually enjoying the book...

Another Pan is set at the exclusive Marlowe school in Manhattan, where largely discredited Egyptologist Professor Darling is a teacher who has just scored a great exhibit of Ancient Egyptian artifacts on loan from the British Museum. The artifacts relate to his life's work: uncovering a Death goddess that was an alternative to Anubis, and discovering the truth behind the legends in the Book of Gates - legends that are supposed to hold the key to immortality.

Roped into helping their father set up the exhibit, 16 year old Wendy and 13 year old John would rather be elsewhere - Wendy with her jock boyfriend and John developing his street cred. But when a charismatic new RA by the name of Peter shows up, who has an obsession of his own with the ancient book, Wendy and John eagerly join his quest. Wendy is drawn to the dangerous Peter, despite her boyfriend and her father's disapproval. John craves acceptance, and longs to be seen by Peter as being worthy of joining his Lost Boys gang. As the underworld begins to take hold of Marlowe, and a conniving assistant from the British Museum also closes in on the truth about the books, the two Darlings and Peter are in a race to complete their quest first - to find the secrets to immortality before death catches up with them, permanently.

Lurking at the periphery of most of the story is the new, decrepit school nurse, who was apparently the governess in Another Faust. It's clear that part of her story has been told elsewhere, but the lack of detail didn't seem to impede the story.

What did impede the story? The pacing and the characters. This was a slow, slow book. I wanted to give up several times, but forced myself to keep going, mostly because I have a huge weakness for Ancient Egypt (even though it seems the stories of the Book of Gates are totally new with no relation to myths that are currently known) and also because many of the nods back to Peter Pan were quite clever. The pacing felt off, and the overall writing felt stilted. The third person point of view wasn't used naturally, and there were weird line breaks within the chapters; instead of using a break to indicate a change in place or time, sometimes they would be used to denote a switch in POV character - but other times would be used traditionally. It pulled me out of the story every time.

Most of the characters were extremely flat. Simon Grin was practically a cartoon villain - I kept waiting for him to start muttering how he would have gotten away with it if it weren't for those meddling kids. Wendy and John were easily manipulated, though a lot more time was invested in John and his motivations so he was slightly more sympathetic. Really the most intriguing character for me was Peter, and that was probably me trying to fit this slick and handsome young adult into the story of the perpetual child I know.

In any re-telling, I love finding the ties back to the original story, and here many of them were quite clever. There's the obvious Barrie Auditorium (which still gets cleverness points, because Peter Pan was originally a play), but then little things like Peter always hanging out by windows, or checking out his shadow. His Lost Boys gang is also constantly plying Peter with happy thoughts (often things relating to youth or staying young) whenever he starts to get grumpy, though the rationale behind it is never explained.

But ultimately, this was a frustrating read. There was just enough intrigue with the myths and the quest that kept me turning the page, but I was always thinking ahead, hoping the book would finally end so I could move on to something else. While part of me is curious about what connections this had to the previous book, I don't want to have to wade through a similarly tedious book to get there, so I think this is my first and only encounter with the "Another" series.

Review: Jumpstart the World by Catherine Ryan Hyde

This one's been on my TBR list for awhile, but it's such a slim book that I put off reading it for awhile after picking it up from the library - short books like this I usually finish up in less than two subway rides, leaving me bored and bookless for part of my commute home. But then I heard some Printz rumblings for this and figured that a lazy Saturday night spent in bed, where I was trying to rest and kick the last bit of my week-long cold, was the perfect time to pick it up.

When Elle's mother picks up a new boyfriend that doesn't want to deal with a teenager in the house, she's set up in her own apartment on the other side of New York City. For most almost-16 year olds, this would be a dream come true, but Elle's just angry that her mother is pushing her aside for the comfort of her newest boyfriend - who, by the way, is taking her mother on a cruise over Elle's 16th birthday. There are only two good things about the new apartment: getting to pick out a new cat (a scared, scarred black cat, the antithesis of everything her mother likes), and her new neighbors - specifically Frank, who may be older and has a girlfriend, but Elle can't help immediately forming a little crush on him.

The new boyfriend also doesn't want to pay for Elle's private school, so she's starting a new school year at a new school, where the only people interested in being friendly are a group of outsiders, most of whom happen to be gay.

When Elle isn't sure she wants to be friends with this group - not that she's homophobic or anything - Frank is the one that listens to her. Frank and his girlfriend invite Elle over for homemade chicken soup, and introduce her to the wonders of photography. Just as Elle begins to acknowledge she's falling for Frank and falling hard, she's shocked to discover that "Frank" hasn't always been Frank - he is, in fact, a transgendered man. The truth turns Elle's world upside down, forcing her to search for the true meanings of friendship and family.

The writing here is spare but thoughtful, and feels very much like we have a direct line to Elle's thoughts. On that level I can totally see why there was Printz buzz for this. On the other hand, there's a stunning lack of character development. Elle, Frank and Elle's new school friend, Wilbur, are the only three that get any sort of depth, but even Frank and Wilbur feel more like stock characters. Here's how bad it was for me: at one point, Elle's cat is sick and needs to be given antibiotics twice a day. At the same time, one of the other characters ends up in the hospital and Elle is spending most of her time there. During this dramatic time, all I could think was that she needed to keep giving the cat antibiotics or it was going to die. I know my great love of cats probably makes me biased, but I really shouldn't have more sympathy for a cat than human characters.

Hyde does do a good job presenting Frank as just another character and never slips into being too didactic about the particulars of trans life. Details of Frank's transition, and of continuing issues as part of his trans identity, are integrated into the story and only those bits that have an impact on what's happening at the moment are included. I note this because the last book I read with a transgendered character was Almost Perfect, which did stop to explain the minutiae of transitioning. However, the presence of a transgendered character is about the only similarity between the two novels (I still highly recommend Almost Perfect - and, of course, so did the Stonewall Award committee!).

Review: The Jumbee by Pamela Keyes

Found via: Forever Young Adult

Phantom of the Opera is far from my favorite musical - even among Andrew Lloyd Webber shows it doesn't rank very high (my favorite is totally Cats and I feel no shame for this. Well, not much). Even so, I think as a theatre geek I'm contractually obligated to at least pay attention to a book that re-tells the story of the classic musical (and, of course, novel). The Jumbee takes the basic premise of Phantom, but instead of 19th century Paris opera, it's contemporary Caribbean high school theater. Keyes deftly weaves the themes of the original into the new story, with just enough twists to keep even those of us who know Phantom guessing.

Following the tragic death of her father, famed Shakespearean actor Alan Legard, Esti and her mother relocate from Oregon to her father's enclave on the island of Cariba. Both women are hoping that a change of scenery will help them move on; Esti in particular is hoping to rekindle her passion for acting by getting the lead in the prestigious high school's production of Romeo & Juliet.

Cariba is an island steeped deeply in tradition and superstition. When a student dies within days of Esti moving to the island, tongues start to wag. When Esti begins rehearsing in the dark theater, alone, rumors begin that she's communicating with a jumbee - a ghost who is often malevolent. When Esti begins hearing a voice in the dark with her, she's not sure what to think, either. The voice - Alan - claims he was a student of her father's. But why did her father never mention this brilliantly talented student with the sexy voice? And if he's truly there, why does he always insist that the lights must remain on? Esti isn't particularly superstitious, but if there's anywhere ghost stories could be true, it would be on the island of Cariba.

Just as Esti is sure she's falling in love with the mysterious Alan, her childhood friend and resident playboy, Rafe, returns to the island from LA. Rafe and Esti immediately resume their friendship, with the possibility of something more always bubbling beneath the surface, but Esti is torn between the two boys. One with whom she has a lifetime of history, the other who has reawakened her passion for the stage. With her other relationships and responsibilities faltering, Esti must discover who Alan truly is, and make a fateful choice.

There are plenty of obvious parallels here between The Jumbee and Phantom of the Opera: the love triangle, a mysterious teacher, a diva who gets every coveted role even when a more talented ingenue appears. However, that doesn't necessarily make the novel predictable. For example, even though I know Erik turns out to be a real man rather than a ghost, Alan's corporealness (or lack thereof) goes a long time without being explicitly confirmed or denied.

Because it's not clear who - or what - Alan is, there are some parts of his and Esti's relationship that made me uncomfortable, but could plausibly be explained by jumbee magic - or just an extremely accomplished manipulator. They don't have a healthy relationship at times, but it's not quite Bella/Edward levels of creepiness.

Speaking of creepy, Keyes does a fabulous job of creating the atmosphere of the fictional Cariba. The school has a sordid past as a plantation with a particularly sadistic slave owner, giving rise to the stories of the jumbees and their various hauntings. The island is in equal parts a lush tropical paradise and the setting of a horror film.

Keyes also integrates the Shakespeare into the text well. Enough happens off stage that the scenes that show the rehearsals or performances for Romeo & Juliet don't feel boring or overdone.

The story is thoroughly enjoyable with some great scenes and set pieces, but the actual writing felt awkward and clunky at times, which holds me back from recommending this whole heartedly. Fans of Phantom should enjoy it, and the unique setting and diverse cast are also major bonus points, but the actual writing style kept me at a bit of a distance.

In other news: Yesterday was the official start of the 2011 Comment Challenge hosted by MotherReader. The challenge lasts for 3 weeks and the goal is to leave 100 comments on other book blogs in order to encourage the habit of commenting. I did this last year and had a blast "meeting" new people and finding new blogs. Welcome new readers who found me through the challenge, and I encourage everyone else to join in the fun!

Review: The Turning: What Curiosity Kills by Helen Ellis

Found via: Forever Young Adult

When I was 12 years old, I received my first Animorphs book (#2, The Visitor) in my Easter basket. Did my mom choose it because it was excellently reviewed, popular science fiction with a diverse and engaging cast of characters?

No.

She picked it out because there was a girl turning into a cat on the cover, and I liked cats.

Since the Animorphs books aren't being re-printed until Spring 2011, I think 12-year-old-me would be getting The Turning: What Curiosity Kills for Christmas 2010. And the girls-turning-into-cats thing isn't even the only bit these two books have in common.

Having been adopted into an elite Manhattan family at a young age, all Mary wants to do is fit in. While her sister Octavia is outspoken and brash, Mary attempts to be normal and unassuming in every way possible - even if that means the boy she's crushing on hardly knows she exists. When she starts feeling tired all the time and having weird cravings, Mary can write that off as a growth spurt. But what about her sudden dislike of running water? And an amazing sense of smell? Oh, and the thick patch of orange hair that sprouted on her leg after a run in with the neighborhood stray?

Mary is far from normal, it turns out. Bit by bit, she's transforming into a cat, at a time when there's a bit of a power struggle happening between different cat factions in New York City - and each side wants Mary to join them, when all Mary wants is to return to her normal life. Enlisting the aid of Octavia, who has some excellent research skills on top of her sauciness, Mary desperately searches for a way to end her turning before there's no turning back.

So aside from turning into a cat, what does this book have in common with Animorphs? The length. This book goes at a ridiculously quick pace, and it's one of the few stories that I wish were a hundred pages longer just so everything can be slightly more fleshed out. There are lots of details that are glossed over - like there are bits where cats will speak to Mary, with their dialog indicated in italics. It's never explained whether these cats are psychic and are putting fully formed phrases in Mary's head, or if maybe Mary is just translating cat behaviors into human speech. The ending is also quite abrupt, which is no problem if the next installment is coming out in a month or two, but leaves us hanging in the worst way when the wait between titles is indefinite (Google revealed nothing about book 2 of The Turning and Helen Ellis' website isn't the easiest to navigate. I'm not a fan of video blogs). This isn't a book with a cliff hanger ending - the climax finishes and then...the end. No denouement, no closure, and no real indication of what could happen next.

Octavia has gotten some blogger love, as she well should. First of all, she's a debate geek, and while I technically didn't do debate, forensics was debate-adjacent, so I love that about her. At first she comes across as a horrible sassy-black-girl stereotype, but Ellis does an excellent job of revealing why Octavia presents herself the way she does. Very interesting.

Also thought it was interesting that both Mary and Octavia are adopted. At first it's totally random and seems like it's just a way to put two non-New-Yorker characters (Mary is originally from Alabama, Octavia from Nebraska) in the big city. So far it hasn't added a lot to Mary, but again it adds some real depth to Octavia's character, as the girl who appears to totally have it all together does in fact have some deep rooted insecurities tied to being adopted.

This is a fun, short read with an interesting twist to the ever-expanding genre of fantasy and paranormal creatures taking over YA. Not a book I'd necessarily run out to get, but certainly fun once you dive in.

Review: Life, After by Sarah Darer Littman

This is an excellent look at how terrorism can effect one family, but with an unexpected angle, at least from this USian's perspective: instead of looking at terrorism in the US or radical Islamic terrorism, this is some homegrown terrorism - in Argentina.

Dani's life changed forever on her 7th birthday. That was the day terrorists loaded a truck with explosives and drove it into the AMIA building in Buenos Aires. Among the victims was Dani's pregnant aunt.

In the following years, political and economic upheaval has rocked Argentina, and Dani's family. Her father has lost his successful business, reducing the family to dinners of wrinkled potatoes - when there's food in the house at all - eaten by candlelight since the electricity has been turned off. As Dani watches her best friends move - one following her family's Jewish heritage to Israel, another to Miami - she is full of both hope and dread when her parents finally announce they, too, will be moving, to New York where her uncle lives.

Dani has to adapt to life in a new country, a new language, and even a new hemisphere where the seasons are the exact opposite of what they should be. To make things harder, her father isn't having an easy time adapting, and has sunk into a shell of his former self, depressed about the move, everything he's lost, and the charity they must now accept. Dani is scared and angry about the person her father has become, and is tired of having to step up to help take care of him, her little sister, and her mom, when all she wants to do is make friends and maybe even go on a date for once. Life After the terrorism and collapse in Argentina is no picnic, but is it even possible to return to the life they had Before?

I loved Dani, as she's genuinely a good kid, but her entire life is falling apart around her and it's all she can do to keep her head up. Her most complex feelings are reserved for her father, who is clearly suffering from deep clinical depression. As a reader, this was totally clear to me, and sometimes I had to stop myself from empathizing too much with Dani's rages against her father. Yes, he should be picking up her little sister from school or helping with the housekeeping, and it was easy to be angry at him for failing miserably at that, but knowing what depression can do to a person I know I shouldn't have those feelings!

What a sad, yet sweet, book. Littman has taken on several complicated issues, yet distilled them into a clean novel. I loved that Dani's family is not only Argentinian, but Jewish as well, a combination I don't think I've ever seen before. However, this isn't a book about being Argentinian Jews - it just adds a little depth to the family's background and gives them a reason to search out help from Jewish aid organizations. On the flip side, I know there are religious reasons for it, but it was a little jarring to see references to a deity written as "G-d" or "D-os." And there's a lot of praying in this book, so it happens rather often.

Like the kids in Dani's school, most of my knowledge of Argentina comes from Evita, so I loved the insight into the political and economic upheaval that has been rocking the country. The focus of the book is definitely on Dani and her family, so there perhaps aren't as many descriptions of life in Argentina as I would have liked, but Littman does a good job of giving peeks at how life has changed drastically while not distracting from the story she wants to tell.

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 Wonder of Charlie Anne by Kimberly Newton Fusco

Found via: The Fourth Musketeer

First, I'd just like to give a shout out to the Fourth Musketeer blog. I've been getting tons of historical fiction recommendations from there for the past few months, books that I don't always see reviewed elsewhere, so a big thanks to Margo for highlighting these great books!

It's the 1930s, and with the US in the grip of a devastating Depression, Charlie Anne finds herself in the midst of her own depression, following a series of personal tragedies. Her mother died in childbirth (which the baby didn't survive, either), her cousin Mirabel showed up shortly after the funeral to serve as the "new mama" to Charlie Anne and her four siblings, and now her father has gone north with her oldest brother to build roads.

On the home front, Mirabel runs the household with an iron fist, and never seems satisfied with Charlie Anne. Charlie Anne is forced to do all of the menial, domestic chores when she'd much prefer to be outside working with the animals, and Mirabel is constantly reminding her to act like a little lady, with advice from a book on manners she constantly keeps in her pocket. Just when life can't seem to get any drearier, a spark of excitement comes to town in the form of Rosalyn, the new wife of Charlie Anne's neighbor, and Phoebe, the African-American girl about Charlie Anne's age she brings with her. In Charlie Anne's small town, no one has ever seen anyone like this pair - witty, educated, and confident enough to wear trousers in colors like "red pepper red." But difficult times and a fear of change bring out the worst in people, forcing Charlie Anne to confront the ugly racism that can hide even in seemingly-reasonable people.

While this is definitely a novel about the terrible things racism can do to a community, I enjoyed immensely the undercurrent of feminism in Charlie Anne, Rosalyn and Phoebe. While Charlie Anne may not have the words to express quite why it's wrong, she complains about being forced to do chores like cleaning clothes and cooking while her brother milks the cows, when everyone knows Charlie Anne is better with the cows. Rosalyn and Phoebe show up in their daring fashion choices that wouldn't become commonplace for American women for decades, declaring they're the most sensible clothes for anyone who works and plays hard, but Charlie Anne is forbidden from wearing a pair of her own because it's not how proper young ladies are "supposed" to dress, according to Mirabel.

Charlie Anne has a wonderfully earnest voice. She's young enough to still believe in magic in the world, but the rapid succession of her mother's death, her father leaving to build roads, and the ugly face of racism in her family and community, are forcing her to grow up. Hopefully she won't ever lose the sense of wonder she carries through the novel.

Charlie Anne's voice also allows Fusco to overcome one of the hurdles of writing historical fiction - how to explain things that are a matter of fact to the characters but are strange and unfamiliar to a modern audience? Well, Charlie Anne is the sort of person that I think would explain how to make a vinegar pie over and over again to her neighbors, even though they've been doing it themselves for years. She's so eager and thorough that all of the historical descriptions seem totally natural in Charlie Anne's words.

Review: I Now Pronounce You Someone Else by Erin McCahan

I picked this one up because I was intrigued by the part about a girl in high school getting married. It's so rare that I find a YA book that deals with an event I have handled recently (like a wedding, as opposed to the long ago angst of wondering whether so-and-so liked me) that I wanted to see what was up. I then couldn't stop reading when I discovered the book is set not far from my hometown - and in fact, Bronwen's top college pick is my hometown's college!

Bronwen Oliver is convinced she's adopted. She and her mother have nothing in common (not even their hair color, though her mom tries to mask it with monthly salon visits to bleach out Bronwen's naturally brunette hair). From an early age she has convinced herself that she is actually Phoebe Lilywhite; she and the real Bronwen Oliver were switched at birth and any day now the Lilywhites will return to re-claim their lost daughter. As she approaches the end of high school this is seeming less and less likely, but Bronwen never stops yearning to find her "real" family.

Enter Jared Sondervan. An old friend of her older brother's (aka Jesus, judging by how much her mother adores him), Jared and Bronwen re-connect during a random coffee run and quickly begin dating, even though she's just finishing her senior year of high school and he's finishing his senior year at Hope College. Not only is Jared a perfect gentlemen, kind, courteous and eager to draw Bronwen out of his shell, but his family is large and loving, caring more about happiness than appearances - everything Bronwen's family is not. So when Jared proposes they should get engaged, Bronwen happily says yes. Suddenly prom isn't the biggest date on her calendar - it's her late August wedding at sunset on the beach at Lake Michigan. But as she and Jared begin planning their lives together, Bronwen finds herself questioning her choices. Maybe before she gets married, she has to really figure out who she is first.

Like I said above, this book is set around my home town, and McCahan has totally nailed the setting, right down to the proliferation of Dutch names (and the inevitable duplication of names, even when people aren't related). I about died when Bronwen and other characters were meeting in the very cafe on Hope's campus that I hung out at as a precocious middle- and high school student taking classes there. It's been years since I really considered the area home, but it was so much fun revisiting through Bronwen's eyes.

My one quibble with Bronwen? I literally ground my teeth together in frustration when she quips that every girl has her dream wedding no matter "how cool she pretends to be." Grr. Not true. I know, I know, one tiny line in a whole book, but that sort of declaration about how "all girls" or "all boys" act is incredibly frustrating for us girls (or boys) who don't share those traits! (See Tuesday's review of This Means War!)

In many ways, this book is the antidote to many of the unrealistic and down right creepy romances that have been flooding the YA market as of late. Jared is a legitimately nice guy - he respects Bronwen's boundaries (and good on Bronwen for having those boundaries and knowing when she had to say stop!) and seems truly interested in learning her likes and dislikes. His and Bronwen's problems don't stem from any inherent personality flaws, rather they're just in two very different places. When you're in a long term relationship, whether marriage or dating or domestic partnership, you do have to start thinking in terms of Us, and that was scary enough for me as a college graduate; I can't imagine having to make decisions like that in high school!

Bronwen's home life is painful to read about. Her mother is just awful, stopping just short of actually being abusive, though it certainly doesn't seem like Bronwen had the healthiest home life. Then again, I knew many parents in that area who shared major traits with her mom, namely the all-encompassing need to always keep up good appearances and never, ever offend or inconvenience someone else.

I totally acknowledge that a lot of my entertainment from this book was the setting and recognizing so much of the area that I grew up in. However, I wasn't so blinded that I couldn't recognize that this is a really solid book, and a great romance for people who like complicated and honest relationships.

Double Review: The Education of Bet by Lauren Baratz-Logsted and A Golden Web by Barbara Quick

A backlog of reviews means more double reviews, simply so it doesn't take me two months to catch up with myself. On the other hand, I would probably have reviewed these two together anyway, since they share a few elements: historical fiction, romance between students, and girls disguising themselves as boys in order to receive an education.

In 19th century England, Bet is the orphaned daughter of a maid, and has been the ward of a relative of her mother's employer for most of her life. Bet occupies a precipitous place in a society rigidly defined by class: she comes from the humblest of beginnings and has been raised in the lap of luxury, yet now belongs to neither world. What Bet longs for most, however, is an education - something denied to her and yet forced upon the unwilling Will, great-nephew of her benefactor who lost his parents to the same illness that killed Bet's mother. Will wants a life of glory in the military. Bet wants to go to school. So Bet concocts a plan: since Will is due to be sent to a new school at the start of the term, she will dress as a boy and pretend to be him, leaving Will free to pursue military service.

Away at school, Bet thrives in her classes, but finds interpersonal relationships much more tricky, as she attracts the attention of bullies and generally has no idea about how boys act when girls aren't around. To make matters trickier, she shares a room with an attractive roommate, and discovers that even the best laid plans can have holes in them (for example - in a school full of men and boys, how is she supposed to handle her period?).

A Golden Web is set much earlier, going back to 14th century Italy, and follows Alessandra Gillani, who is thought to be the first female anatomist. As Quick's author's note explains, no one is entirely sure if Alessandra existed or if she was as educated as legend says she is, but Quick paints a rich picture of her possible life. Daughter of a wealthy book maker, back when books were still written and illustrated by the hands of apprentices, Alessandra has access to a wealth of knowledge denied to other girls and women of her age. Threatened with an arranged marriage at 15 by a disapproving stepmother, Alessandra first hides in a convent, then disguises herself as Sandro and makes her way to Bologna to study with the masters of medicine and the fledgling science of anatomy, where her talents make her the enemy of a jealous fellow student, and also attract the eye and support of a handsome student who she may just be able to trust with her secret.

With so much in common, these books are actually vastly different. The Education of Bet focuses almost exclusively on the romance between Bet and her roommate, to the point where at times it hardly even seemed like an historical fiction novel, and the cross-dressing was merely an elaborate plot device to bring the two unlikely lovers together (unlikely thanks to that pesky class difference). A Golden Web spends much more time on historical details, making it totally believable why Alessandra would have to disguise herself as Sandro. And despite her younger age, Alessandra is much better equipped for an extended disguise - even though she set out before she started her period (or "flowering," which is probably the most ridiculous euphemism I've ever heard), she knows it's going to come thanks to her medical books and quickly adapts. Bet has been menstruating for awhile, and yet totally forgot to plan ahead, which struck me as ridiculous. I've been known to forget to have pads or tampons with me on a trip, but that's not because I forgot I was going to have my period, rather I was just too scatterbrained to throw extras in my bag. Bet just forgot it was ever going to happen.

Parts of A Golden Web feel slightly too coincidental to be realistic, and for awhile I wondered if this was actually going to go into a Cinderella-style story since her stepmother is just so wicked. However, I loved Alessandra's special interest in women's bodies and health, and descriptions of her visiting midwives and female healers in the unsavory part of town to learn from their traditional knowledge, handed down orally from generation to generation, and combining that with her schooling.

If you're looking for a fluffy romance, you could do worse than The Education of Bet. If you want a nuanced historical novel, A Golden Web is the book for you.

Review: The Secret to Lying by Todd Mitchell

Since I'm always on the lookout for titles dealing with mental illness, when I saw Publisher's Weekly described this as "a vivid picture of teenage social and mental health issues," I knew I had to have it. The fact that it's set in a boarding school and is filled with pranks, a la the inimitable Disreputable History of Frankie Landau-Banks,  was a bonus.

At his small town high school, James was all but invisible. So when he is accepted to a prestigious boarding school for the gifted and talented, he takes the opportunity to re-make himself into a brooding punk with a history of carjacking and back alley brawls. He quickly falls in with a new group of friends, and even gets a hot girlfriend. Only two people remain unimpressed: the school's ice queen Ellie (who inspires boyfriends to pull crazy stunts like run half naked around campus out of love for her) and ghost44, another student who communicates with James only via IM and sees right through his facade.

During the day, life is going well for James, as he and his friends begin an escalating prank war with a few guys down the hall (and also stage some epic performance art level protests against the awful cafeteria food). But nighttime is a different story, as James begins to dream of being a demon hunter. While the dreams are exciting at first, they begin to bleed over into James' real life, distracting him from his friends and his studies, and inspiring James to attempt deadly feats when he's awake. Will he be able to pull himself out before he gets out of control?

While the pranking wasn't on the epic level of Disreputable History (Frankie's pranks all had some sort of philosophical point behind them while James' are petty and silly), this is definitely an excellent book on identity, belonging and mental illness. James and one other major character have some major psychological struggles (I'm maintaining the anonymity of the other character because the big reveal doesn't come until the final chapter), but it's handled sensitively and deftly. There are no big revelatory scenes, rather James' illness progresses smoothly through the book so even the reader doesn't realize just how dangerous his dreams are until well into the story.

And those dreams - damn are they spooky. I often see dreams used as a sort of lazy plot device, a way for a character to metaphorically examine events of the story without relying on pages of exposition and internal monologues. Here the dreams form a whole other narrative where it isn't immediately clear what bearing they will have on the rest of the story, or if they will at all, and it's all fabulously creepy. The pranks and humor throughout James' waking moments provide and excellent and much needed counterpoint to the seriousness of his dreams and inner thoughts.

Sci Fi Friday Review: Girl Parts by John M. Cusick

Found Via: Lynn at Goodreads

When this popped up in my Goodreads friends update e-mail with four stars from Lynn (who reviews over at Bookends), I knew I had to read it. Even without a longer review attached, I've learned to trust Lynn's judgment, especially when it comes to science fiction.

David is athletic and outgoing, the sort of guy that everyone wants to be friends with - unless you're lower on the high school social totem pole. Then he can make your life hell. Charlie is the opposite, quiet and bookish. But both are diagnosed with dissociative disorders that keep them from making real friends and developing healthy relationships. David's obnoxiously rich parents go the high tech therapy route, presenting David with a companion, a female-presenting android carefully calibrated with intimacy protocols to help David understand healthy relationships. Charlie, being less well off and living off the grid with his dad, chooses to skip the companion treatment, even after it's recommended by the school's new psychologist, Dr. Rogers.

When David discovers he can't go as far as he wants with his companion, Rose, he rejects her, sending the poor companion-girl into a depressive spiral. When Charlie discovers her, abandoned and rejected, he's surprised to discover she's the only "person" he can really talk to, and like a good friend he wants to do everything he can to help Rose get over David and become a more fully-realized individual.

This is definitely a light book in more ways than one. Cusick really could have delved a lot deeper into the characters and this whole companion technology. The story holds up fine on its own without more details, but it certainly would have been a richer, and more science fiction-y, experience with more details.

While this is ostensibly a boy book, with most of the story focusing on David and Charlie, my favorite characters were definitely the girls. Is this just because I've never been a high school boy? Perhaps. But Cusick does a great job developing Rose from a stilted robot to something resembling a real girl. And then there's her sudden BFF Rebecca, who gets Rose drunk to help her forget David. It doesn't work so well, but it's a fun bit of friendship. And then May, the black market technician who jailbreaks companions like others jailbreak iPhones. At first I thought she was going to be totally creepy (she overrides the intimacy protocols so boys don't get shocks when they try to go farther with their companions than they should), but May makes it very clear she believes in the girl's right to choose her boundaries - and gives Rose an extra special parting gift. May totally stole the show for me.

This is a great bit of fluffy science fiction that will easily appeal to boys and girls. It's fun satire of intimacy and internet culture, but stays in the shallow end of the pool.

Review: Finding My Place by Traci L. Jones

Found via: Publisher's Weekly 6/1

All it took was the Publisher's Weekly review mentioning that this book looks at the intersection of race and class for me to add this to my TBR list. Very few -isms, be that racism, sexism, classism, among others, act independently - instead they're a complicated combination, and I was excited to see how race and class might be handled in a middle grade/YA title.

Tiphanie Baker is the daughter of former civil-rights activists. She's grown up happily in a predominantly black neighborhood in Colorado, until shortly before the start of her freshman year, when her parents accept prestigious new jobs that enable them to move to a predominantly white suburb of Denver, and enroll Tiphanie in a predominantly white school. On the first day of school she gets a lecture about doing her part to "uplift the race," reminding her her actions will reflect on African-Americans as a group in the minds of her white classmates.

Tiphanie is met with stares, curiosity, and a little bit of outright hostility in her new school - including a teacher who doesn't believe Tiphanie belongs in an accelerated math class. No one seems eager to befriend her, except Jackie Sue, a white hippie chick who proudly calls herself trailer trash. Both of them outsiders, the girls form a tight friendship. Tiphanie is willing to overlook Jackie Sue's eccentricities, and even the obvious secrets she's harboring about her family. Tiphanie's parents, on the other hand, are less than thrilled to see their solidly middle class daughter is hanging out with the girl lowest on the class totem pole. As her friendship with Jackie Sue grows, Tiphanie finds herself wrestling with her values, and the values of her family.

I loved reading about Tiphanie. She's smart, funny and witty, and a compassionate person. As she becomes more comfortable around her white classmates, she wonders if she's turning her back on her old friends, perhaps even inadvertently turning her back on her race. However, when she does hang out with her old friends, there's definitely been a change in their relationships. Some of it is the natural evolution of friendships when you don't see each other every day, but at least one person thinks Tiphanie's trying too hard to fit in at her new school. On the flip side, when her parents start suggesting that maybe there are more appropriate friends than the lower-class Jackie Sue, Tiphanie shows how fiercely loyal she can be, noting that Jackie Sue was the only person willing to be friendly from day one.

This didn't seem to look at the intersections of race and class so much as it looked at racism and classism separately as part of the same overall story. Tiphanie and her parents face both overt and subtle racism, while Jackie Sue faces mostly overt classism, even from Tiphanie's parents (who mostly judge her based on her drunken mother). I still very much enjoyed it, it just wasn't quite what I was expecting going in.

Finally, can I just say how much I love the cover? The super bright flower-power colors evoke the setting and really make Tiphanie's silhouette stand out. I love that even in a silhouette it's fairly obvious she's African-American, and her pose is confident, like she can take on the world. One of the best covers I've seen in awhile.

Review: Efrain's Secret by Sofia Quintero

Found via: Publisher's Weekly 3/15

I've been dying to post about this one for almost a week now. I discussed some of it with Ari of Reading in Color on Twitter after she finished, but I wanted to get my Nerds Heart YA decision up first so I could make some comparisons between The World is Mine and this, which I coincidentally read shortly after.

Efrain has one goal in life: to be accepted into an Ivy League school. He knows it's an uphill battle: he has no college fund; he's Latino; and even though he's poised to be Valedictorian at his Bronx high school, does class rank really matter when your school doesn't even offer calculus? But the final nail in the coffin appears to come in the form of his SAT score - 1650, far below the average score for Harvard's incoming Freshmen. With a mother that works around the clock just to keep a roof over his and his little sister's heads and a deadbeat dad who moved in down the street with his mistress, Efrain feels like he's at a dead end. Until his old friend Nestor, a high school drop out and current drug peddler, offers to hook Efrain up with a job like his. It's hard work, long hours, and fraught with danger from the cops and rival dealers, but the cash is tax free and it's all for the noble goal of escaping epidemic poverty, so it's okay, right?

Complicating Efrain's life even more are his relationships with his best friend Chingy and potential girlfriend Candace, a survivor of Hurricane Katrina with an overprotective mother. Efrain knows neither would approve of where he's getting his cash, and chooses to keep both in the dark, hoping to keep his secret until he has enough cash to pay for an SAT prep course, re-take the test, and start paying for college with the help of loans. But once he starts peddling drugs, working up from marijuana to the harder stuff, will it really be that easy to get out?

Oh Efrain, Efrain, Efrain. So many times I just wanted to grab him by the shoulders and tell him that no matter how daunting life seemed, selling drugs just wasn't the way to solve his problems. Of course, then there wouldn't be much of a story, would there? Quintero keeps this from falling into a re-hash of an after-school special with dynamic dialog and engaging characters. Nestor, who paves the way for Efrain to join him in the drug peddling business, is an absolutely terrific character. He's neither a stereotypical street kid nor a thug with a heart of gold - rather he's somewhere realistically in between. He alternates between being goofy and serious, a buddy to Efrain and a no-nonsense dealer. I almost want a book about Nestor's story!

The comparison I wanted to make between this and The World is Mine all comes down to the dialog. There are a lot of differences between these two books, but one major thing they have in common is the use of lots of slang. However, The World is Mine called a lot of attention to the slang by interpreting it for the audience, which drew me out of the story constantly and seemed to make it clear the book wasn't actually intended for anyone who might really speak that way. Efrain's Secret, in contrast, hardly translates anything at all. There are even short bursts of dialog in Spanish that go untranslated for an English-speaking audience. Since I speak about three words of Spanish, I had to rely on the context and character reactions to even have a clue what was going on, but it really added another layer of authenticity to the story. It reminded me of one of the things I loved best about the early seasons of Lost, when parts of Jin and Sun's conversations in Korean would go un-sub-titled. It was a great storytelling device then, and it works just as well in Efrain's Secret.

Efrain's Secret is a solid story that jumps up a notch on the basis of great characters and an engaging and immersive writing style.

Nerds Heart YA Discussion: The World is Mine by Lyah B. LeFlore

Today's the big day, the first day results are being posted for the first round of the Nerds Heart YA tournament, all about underrepresented, diverse YA books. I had the pleasure of judging this round with Lorin of Arch Thinking, pitting The World is Mine against Donut Days by Laura Zielin. Continue reading for our discussion about The World is Mine, then continue on to Arch Thinking for our Donut Days discussion. At noon Eastern time we'll post our comparison of the two books and declare a final winner!

Angela

Let's start by talking about The World is Mine. I liked the variety of characters in the book and how we got to spend a little bit of time in everyone's head and see what was important to them and why they were in on Blue's venture. I also really, really liked seeing a book where the majority of the characters are non-white, but they aren't all down-on-their-luck drug dealers or anything. There's a variety of socio-economic statuses, a variety of academic success, etc.  

However, I have to admit that the slang really, really irritated me. Not the presence of it, but the way the author had to *explain* it to us. I lost track of how many times a slang word was followed by "which in our world means..." And while I liked the inclusion of the rap/hip hop lyrics at the beginning of the chapters, they were integrated awkwardly into the text: "Like Kanye's famous line, Mo' money mo' problems." The grammar felt really artificial there. Overall it felt like the book wasn't written for teens who are living lives like Blue and his friends, but for the kids in the suburbs who want to mimic the "urban lifestyle."

I was also totally frustrated by the cliffhanger ending. I felt like there was absolutely no resolution for any of the plot threads.

Lorin

The ending! I was so annoyed when I read the last page. It really bugs me when books don't even pretend to be anything more than a way to make you buy the next book.

I think you hit the nail on the head regarding the audience for this book. And I think this made the dialogue feel stilted. Which was too bad because I really liked most of the characters. It helped that we spent time with many of them, which I agree that I liked. But I was also charmed by some of the other characters, like Blue's dad and Whiteboy's landlady. They came across as really genuine people whose problems I care about. Which brings me back to the ending - I guess it's a good thing that I want to know what happens next, but I think the author has lost my trust. If every book is a cliffhanger, I'm going to get jaded and stop caring.

Angela

I kept comparing the cliffhanger ending to the endings of Hunger Games and Catching Fire in my head, only because those are the two biggest cliffhangers I've seen recently. Those worked because something major was resolved - IE, the titular Hunger Games, but in the last few pages, a *new* twist was added, so you not only felt one story was completed, but there was another one to look forward to. I wanted something resolved - a truly successful party, the issue of  Mamie's track - so I had a complete story to reflect on before building anticipation for the next story.

Lorin 

The thing I thought about a lot when I read this book was how most of Blue's problems were of his own making. Some weren't (like the issue about college) but the problems with Collin and Mamie were. I get that it's a personality flaw but I did want to scold the boy half the time. I just wish he had been a little more self-aware.  

Angela

Blue...I kinda wanted to kick him in the face sometimes. He was totally dismissive of and just a little bit sexist towards Mamie. The sexism came in for me because he seemed unable to refer to her without labeling her as the *girl* DJ. It was irritating because while I can handle a flawed protagonist (in fact, the best ones are far from perfect), he had some glaring personality flaws that made him downright unlikeable sometimes. His problems with Collin seemed to mostly stem from an inability to listen - which I totally bought because Blue was caught up in his big dreams and who wants to listen to reality then?! But he was rather vile about Mamie, and was creeping me out a bit towards the end when he was wondering how long Jade was "gonna make a brother wait." Independently, that bit with Jade would just be typical male posturing, but combined with the Mamie issues it was clear Blue's got some messed up issues with women.  

Lorin

I hadn't really picked up on Blue's women issues until you pointed it out, but I definitely see what you mean. (Interestingly, his mom isn't really a developed character in the book - Collin's off-screen mom is more fully developed. I wonder if the author will make more of this in her next installment.) Mostly though, I just thought his ego was bigger than he was - and from what I've heard of his favorite role model, Diddy, that's probably pretty accurate.

Summary:

-     Good variety of characters

-     Interesting structure

-     Unsympathetic main character (but sympathetic supporting characters)

-     Annoying cliffhanger ending

Remember: check out Arch Thinking for our Donut Days thoughts, then come back at noon for our comparison and final decision!

Review: The Mysterious Howling (The Incorrigible Children of Ashton Place Bk 1) by Maryrose Wood

Found via: Bookends

Lynn and Cindy had me when they said this is "A Jane Eyre riff for the middle reader." Jane Eyre is one of the few classic novels I managed to actually finish reading while in college (the other was The Scarlet Letter). While I had some problems with the novel, I figured those problems wouldn't be showing up in a middle grade novel! And I was right. What does show up? A charming protagonist thrust into an impossible situation with more mysteries than she knows what to do with!

Penelope Lumley has just graduated from the Swanburne School for Poor Bright Females and is on her way to her first governess position at Ashton Place. Penelope was intrigued by the advertisement as it called for a young lady who worked well with animals. Penelope goes in thinking she might find a stable filled with ponies - and instead finds three feral children howling in the barn! Lord Frederick found the three children while hunting and has taken them home as trophies, naming the children Alexander, Beowulf and Cassiopeia Incorrigible. He placed the ad for a governess, hoping the children will be presentable to society in time for Christmas. The lady of the manor, Lady Constance, isn't so sure about this whole plan, but is going to try her hardest to make the best of the impossible situation, managing three wards, a governess and a husband who is far more interested in going out hunting then spending time with his new wife. Armed with a top notch classical education, Penelope gamely rises to the challenge - and doesn't even let herself be too disappointed when she realizes she has to teach the children how to wear clothes before she can start teaching Latin.

The omniscient narrator is a perfect blend between sounding very 19th century and also very 21st century. The narrator knows the reader isn't familiar with all of the details of Penelope's world and explains them quickly and humorously. The conversational tone, however, was very similar to Jane Eyre and the like. The narration also takes plenty of jabs at the 19th century governess novel genre, including Penelope shuddering at the thought of falling in love with the lord of the manor as she's imagining what life in Ashton Place may be like.

The three Incorrigibles are hilarious. They were raised by wolves and even after Penelope starts working with them, they only manage a tenuous grasp on English. The youngest, Cassiopeia, never quite masters pronouns and constantly refers to herself as "Cassawoof," making me giggle every time.

There are plenty of mysteries in this book - some of which are answered during the novel, and others which are only hinted at, setting up the series nicely. There's a complete story here, but I definitely want some more answers and look forward to the next book!