Not as many books this week; I was busy writing (fiction and academic) and reading up for my writer's group meeting this week.
37. Stacy Henrie, Lady Outlaw. (Whitney, Romance) Pretty, red-headed Jennie Jones owns a ranch in Southern Utah--it's the only thing she inherited from her father, and she'll do just about anything to keep it. After the bank threatens to foreclose on her ranch if she doesn't pay her remaining debt, Jennie discovers just what her limits are: after a chance encounter with some stage robbers, Jennie comes up with a daring plan to save her ranch--by stealing money from thieves. After all, she reasons, it's for a good cause, and the thieves would only buy booze and women with the money. Jennie's plans are complicated when she hires Caleb Johnson, a novice cowboy with a tragic past, to help her on the ranch. Soon her feelings for Caleb conflict with her means of getting money for the ranch, and Jennie has to decide how far she's willing to go to save what matters to her. I thought the premise for this was cute--and unusual. I liked Jennie and Caleb as characters; I particularly liked that Jennie was feisty and not willing to play the victim (and if people say that red-heads in fiction are a little cliche, well, as a natural red-head myself, I have to admit that I like them). I also enjoyed seeing a glimpse of the history of Southern Utah, as I happen to live in the area. That said, I had a hard time with Jennie's decision to steal money--this may be a particular quirk of my generally law-abiding personality, but it made it hard for me to relate to Jennie for a while. I also would have liked to see a little more focus on the romance, and less on the banditry (but here, again, this is a personal preference). Generally speaking, it was a nice, clean romance--the writing wasn't particularly memorable, but it was clear and moved quickly.
38. Maureen Johnson, The Madness Underneath (sequel to The Name of the Star). I enjoyed the first novel in Johnson's The Shades of London series, about Rory Devereaux's encounter with a Jack-the-Ripper type serial killer while she attended Wexford Academy. The sequel begins with Rory struggling to put her life back together. The first few chapters are understandably slow, as Rory tries to care about anything. When her therapist suggests Rory return to Wexford, the story picks up. Rory picks up the threads of her old life, including her involvement with the Shades (an elite and secret ghost hunting arm of the police). A new set of murders suggest the possibility of another serial killer, so Rory and the gang set out to investigate and uncover something much more unusual, and unsettling. For the first two thirds of the book, I was interested but not especially overwhelmed. The last 1/3 of the book takes a drastic turn (one I sort of saw coming), but left me pretty frustrated with the story. I realize this is the problem with second books in a series--usually the first book wraps up at least one plot (think Harry Potter or the Hunger Games); the second book struggles because it has to set up the third story and so it often feels less finished. I didn't feel like the first part of the book set up the ending as well as it could have; there was also a plot twist at the end that made me extremely unhappy. I won't say what it is because I don't want to spoil it--suffice it to say that Johnson will have to do some pretty incredible word magic in the last book to make me okay with the ending. (That said, I will undoubtedly read the third book just to find out what happens, so maybe the frustrating ending actually achieved what it set out to do.)
39. (I almost forgot to add this one!) Alethia Kontis, Enchanted. This came recommended by my sister so I was looking forward to reading it--but my feelings for it are ultimately mixed. The writing at times was spectacularly lovely, but somehow the overall story just didn't do it for me. Sunday Woodcutter is the seventh daughter of a seventh daughter, but she's still coming into her powers. One day, on a ramble through the woods, she meets and befriends an enchanted frog. When she releases him (unintentionally) from his curse, the prince returns home and orders a series of three balls so that he can woo Sunday (her family holds a grudge against him, for good reason). Things get complicated after that, partly because Kontis seems determined to weave part of half a dozen fairy tales into the story (The Frog Prince, Cinderella, Jack and the Giant Killer, etc.). I liked many of the allusions--and I liked the complex back story for many of the characters and I liked the characters themselves, but ultimately I didn't love it. Ironically, I think I would have liked it better if the story was pared down a bit so that the lyrical language didn't get swallowed in the plot.
Sunday, March 17, 2013
Sunday, March 10, 2013
Whitney speculative wrap-up, Clockwork Prince
32. Dan Wells, The Hollow City. This was my favorite of the Whitney speculative finalists. In a city haunted by a serial killer (the Red Line Killer) who leaves his victims faceless, Michael Shipman sees things that other people don't. He sees men without faces and fears electronics (cell phones in particular) because he believes a government conspiracy is using the phones to monitor him. When his visions land him in a psychiatric ward, Michael is told he has schizophrenia--that his brain interprets stimuli that don't actually exist. He's also given reason to believe that he's the Red Line Killer: the people targeted are all associated with the cult that killed his mother, and Michael has unexplained gaps in his memory that cover the times of the murder. Michael isn't convinced--not about his diagnosis, not about the murders. But Michael has to figure out the truth of what's going on before the secrets from his past catch up with him . . . For the most part, I enjoyed this one. The writing was compelling, the plot quick moving, and Michael's narration was fascinating, as the book plays with the question of what is ultimately real. The ending, I felt, wrapped things up a little too quickly without answering all of my questions, but aside from that, it was a good read.
33. Jacob Gowans, Flight from Blithmore (Whitney speculative). Henry and Isabel have been in love since they were children, though he is the son of a successful carpenter and she's the scion of a noble house that's fallen on rough times. But when Isabel's mother dies and her father refuses to acknowledge her engagement, Henry and Isabel feel they have no choice but to start their lives together somewhere else. However, Isabel's cruel father fights them--he sells Isabel (illegally) to the emperor of a neighboring country. When Henry stands up to the emperor to save Isabel, the emperor launches a revenge man-hunt that endangers not only Henry and Isabel, but Henry's sister Maggie, Isabel's brother James, Henry's journeyman, and Henry's childhood friend Ruther (a master storyteller). The premise was a little far-fetched to me, but that's not something I mind when the story is well told. Here, the story-telling was mixed. The writing itself tended to be clear and smooth-flowing (there were even some parts that glimmered of brilliance). But I struggled getting into this--after the excitement of their initial escape, the characters seem to wander without much real danger until almost the end of the book. I also struggled to relate to the characters. Over at "The Dawning of a Brigher Day" (The Association of Mormon Letters blog), Jessie Christensen talks about Mormon lit that feels "bland"--that lacks a distinct voice--and I think that sums up some of my difficulty with the book. Henry and Isabel had so many virtues that they didn't feel real; the other characters seemed to be pretty one-note: Ruther was the dissolute with an occasional good conscience moment; James was the soldier; Maggie was---I'm not entirely sure what her distinction was supposed to be, except as another female for the group; and the journeyman was a coward. Oddly enough, my favorite chapter was one between two minor characters--the King of Blithmore and the emperor's retired general--I think because the two both had distinct, unusual characters and their interaction was refreshing. This book does have a lot of good star reviews at Amazon and Goodreads, so perhaps I'm in the minority in my opinion here.
34. Ally Condie, Reached. One of the things I love about Condie's books is how she makes classic literature more accessible for teen readers. Reached is no exception. Reached begins with the Rising's revolution: a nation-wide plague for which only the Rising has the cure. But when a plague-resistent strain breaks out, Cassia, Ky, and Xander must do their part to fight the plague and figure out their places in the newly evolving society. This novel wasn't as action-packed as I had anticipated for the third volume of a trilogy that includes an uprising, but I liked it despite that. I liked that the novel raised interesting questions about the shape of a revolution--how do we really change society? Are the changes superficial or can we enact real change? What are the costs of that change? I also liked Condie's thoughtful and lyrical prose. My only real complaint was that the resolution of the love triangle between Cassia, Ky, and Xander wasn't quite as complicated as I'd hoped it would be--I felt like the question of who she would end up with was answered fairly quickly.
35. Josie S. Kilpack, Daisy. Daisy is a 46 year-old-mother of two (almost a grandmother), who's looking forward to having an empty nest in a few months when her youngest graduates from high school. That is, until she finds herself with an unexpected diagnosis and has to revisit all of her plans for the future. (I can't say much more without giving away too much of the plot). I've read two of the other novels in the Newport Ladies book club, and, while I like the concept (the way four different women's lives are altered over the course of their interaction in a book club), it does introduce one difficulty that this book drives home: the shared parts of the novel start to feel repetitive by the second or third reading. Otherwise, I liked reading about how Daisy begins to change her perspective on life through the events of the novel, and I liked Daisy herself, although the final resolution left me feeling a little incomplete.
36. Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Prince. It's rare that I like the sequel to a book better than the original, but that was definitely the case with this book. The series already has a lot of elements I like: setting in Victorian England (complete with references to literature and art that I actually get! I felt unreasonably smug when I realized that I'd actually read one of Tessa's favorite novels, The Hidden Hand, for a graduate course--I'm guessing most readers have never even heard of the book). A love triangle that actually interests me (I was amazed by how my loyalties kept shifting between Will and Jem--usually I have a clear-cut favorite in a love triangle that doesn't waver, but here I find my loyalties almost as divided as Tessa's). Lovely writing and a compelling plot. I'm looking forward to reading the conclusion to the series when it gets released shortly.
33. Jacob Gowans, Flight from Blithmore (Whitney speculative). Henry and Isabel have been in love since they were children, though he is the son of a successful carpenter and she's the scion of a noble house that's fallen on rough times. But when Isabel's mother dies and her father refuses to acknowledge her engagement, Henry and Isabel feel they have no choice but to start their lives together somewhere else. However, Isabel's cruel father fights them--he sells Isabel (illegally) to the emperor of a neighboring country. When Henry stands up to the emperor to save Isabel, the emperor launches a revenge man-hunt that endangers not only Henry and Isabel, but Henry's sister Maggie, Isabel's brother James, Henry's journeyman, and Henry's childhood friend Ruther (a master storyteller). The premise was a little far-fetched to me, but that's not something I mind when the story is well told. Here, the story-telling was mixed. The writing itself tended to be clear and smooth-flowing (there were even some parts that glimmered of brilliance). But I struggled getting into this--after the excitement of their initial escape, the characters seem to wander without much real danger until almost the end of the book. I also struggled to relate to the characters. Over at "The Dawning of a Brigher Day" (The Association of Mormon Letters blog), Jessie Christensen talks about Mormon lit that feels "bland"--that lacks a distinct voice--and I think that sums up some of my difficulty with the book. Henry and Isabel had so many virtues that they didn't feel real; the other characters seemed to be pretty one-note: Ruther was the dissolute with an occasional good conscience moment; James was the soldier; Maggie was---I'm not entirely sure what her distinction was supposed to be, except as another female for the group; and the journeyman was a coward. Oddly enough, my favorite chapter was one between two minor characters--the King of Blithmore and the emperor's retired general--I think because the two both had distinct, unusual characters and their interaction was refreshing. This book does have a lot of good star reviews at Amazon and Goodreads, so perhaps I'm in the minority in my opinion here.
34. Ally Condie, Reached. One of the things I love about Condie's books is how she makes classic literature more accessible for teen readers. Reached is no exception. Reached begins with the Rising's revolution: a nation-wide plague for which only the Rising has the cure. But when a plague-resistent strain breaks out, Cassia, Ky, and Xander must do their part to fight the plague and figure out their places in the newly evolving society. This novel wasn't as action-packed as I had anticipated for the third volume of a trilogy that includes an uprising, but I liked it despite that. I liked that the novel raised interesting questions about the shape of a revolution--how do we really change society? Are the changes superficial or can we enact real change? What are the costs of that change? I also liked Condie's thoughtful and lyrical prose. My only real complaint was that the resolution of the love triangle between Cassia, Ky, and Xander wasn't quite as complicated as I'd hoped it would be--I felt like the question of who she would end up with was answered fairly quickly.
35. Josie S. Kilpack, Daisy. Daisy is a 46 year-old-mother of two (almost a grandmother), who's looking forward to having an empty nest in a few months when her youngest graduates from high school. That is, until she finds herself with an unexpected diagnosis and has to revisit all of her plans for the future. (I can't say much more without giving away too much of the plot). I've read two of the other novels in the Newport Ladies book club, and, while I like the concept (the way four different women's lives are altered over the course of their interaction in a book club), it does introduce one difficulty that this book drives home: the shared parts of the novel start to feel repetitive by the second or third reading. Otherwise, I liked reading about how Daisy begins to change her perspective on life through the events of the novel, and I liked Daisy herself, although the final resolution left me feeling a little incomplete.
36. Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Prince. It's rare that I like the sequel to a book better than the original, but that was definitely the case with this book. The series already has a lot of elements I like: setting in Victorian England (complete with references to literature and art that I actually get! I felt unreasonably smug when I realized that I'd actually read one of Tessa's favorite novels, The Hidden Hand, for a graduate course--I'm guessing most readers have never even heard of the book). A love triangle that actually interests me (I was amazed by how my loyalties kept shifting between Will and Jem--usually I have a clear-cut favorite in a love triangle that doesn't waver, but here I find my loyalties almost as divided as Tessa's). Lovely writing and a compelling plot. I'm looking forward to reading the conclusion to the series when it gets released shortly.
Monday, March 4, 2013
More Whitneys--with Enthusiasm!
I sort of forgot to number my books last week. Numbers aren't my strongest suit, but I think I'm up to . . .
29. Polly Shulman, Enthusiasm. I'll admit--I picked up this book at the library because it had a cover blurb from Stephenie Meyer, and I was curious about the premise. It more than met my expectations; it was a darling story. For years, Julie's been dragged along by her best friend Ashleigh's wild enthusiasms. She's more or less used to it by now. But, just before their sophomore year begins, Julie's dismayed to find that Ashleigh has glommed onto what has always been Julie's private enthusiasm: a love for all things Jane Austen. Ashleigh decides that they must find suitable Mr. Darcys--and since they are unlikely to find such a creature at their public high school, Ashleigh convinces Julie to help her crash a dance at a local all-boys prep school. There, they meet a real candidate for Darcy-hood in the form of Parr, a tall, handsome, sensitive student (and one whom Julie has long admired in town without knowing his name.) Problem is, Ashleigh thinks he's pretty great too, and Julie doesn't have it in her to fight Ashleigh's newest enthusiasm, even if she wanted to . . . I thought the story was a lot of fun, and I loved the strong relationship Julie and Ashleigh had. I liked, too, that while there were the resident evil girls from school, those girls were pretty much just a minor backdrop: the real story focuses on Julie and Ashleigh's friendship, Julie's troubles understanding boys (and her fear of a lack-luster first kiss) and their growing friendship with Parr (who really is pretty great).
30. Ka Hancock, Dancing on Broken Glass (Whitney General). I thought this book was lovely. On her 21st birthday, Lucy Hancock falls hard for Mickey Chandler, a boy several years her senior with a history of bipolar disorder. Although Mickey does what he can to discourage Lucy (experience has taught him the hard way that long-term romantic relationships don't often work with his disorder), he can't help falling for her as well. And so they marry. Lucy, however, has her own complicated history: her parents both died while she was young--her mother of breast cancer. At 26, Lucy fights her own (successful) battle with breast cancer, but the she and Mickey make the difficult decision not to have children. Eight years later, a routine doctor's exam reveals something unexpected (and I don't really think this is a spoiler, because you can see it coming): she's pregnant. Suddenly, she and Mickey have to reconfigure their entire relationship. There were a lot of things I loved about this book, from the beautiful language (some sentences I had to reread just to absorb them) to the engrossing characters. I loved Lucy and the close bonds she has with her sisters; I also loved Mickey, who was broken, but who loved Lucy as much as he could. I liked how the novel dealt so positively with difficult things--not that the author glossed over the difficulties or made light of them, but that she showed how the characters weathered difficult things because they loved each other, and that love was sustaining and ultimately redemptive. There were a few moments that were just a little too "precious," but I think that's hard to avoid in women's lit, given certain genre expectations--and any novel dealing with a baby is bound to have a few of those moments, I think.
31. David Butler, City of Saints (Whitney Speculative). The author describes this as a "gonzo steampunk adventure" and I think that description is pretty accurate. The story takes place in an alternate 1850s U.S.--one where the Mormons have established a separate Kingdom of Deseret, Russians own the Northeast, and Harriet Tubman (I presume she's the "President Tubman") has established a community of African Americans in Mexico. I was intrigued by the story from the opening scene, which has several different factions racing to Salt Lake to try to recruit the Mormons (and their rumored air ships and phlogistan guns--whatever those might be--developed by Madman Pratt) for their side as the North and South inch towards war. Captain Richard Burton, a world explorer, drags along his foppish side-kick, Absalom Fearnley-Standish, in behalf of her Majesty, Queen Victoria. Samuel Clemens leads a delegation for the Northern States. And Edgar Allan Poe, disguised as a gypsy, leads a delegation for Robert E. Lee and other Southern sympathizers (apparently, Poe faked his death in 1849). The author shifts point of view frequently, which was a little disorienting in the beginning, until I got all the different factions established in my head. Butler does a pretty good job of giving each POV a fairly distinctive voice, and the writing cracks a long at a good pace. The premise and the characters were a lot of fun--I enjoyed the parade of familiar historical characters (in addition to those already mentioned, readers meet Porter Rockwell, John D. Lee of the Mountain Meadows Massacre infamy, Bill Hickman, Eliza R. Snow, Brigham Young, George Q. Cannon, Heber Kimball, and others). I was impressed by the steampunk element too: the author clearly knew enough about modern weaponry to invent a realistic range of mechanical inventions. The book I read actually spans four novellas (available separately at Amazon: Liahona, Deseret, Timpanogos, and Teancum). And despite the compelling premise, I started to get a little bored about 2/3 of the way through when all the different gun fights started to blur together for me. I would have preferred a little less action and a more compressed story. There is a fair amount of gore (not surprising in a western where everyone carries a western), which may not appeal to some readers. I also really struggled with Eliza R. Snow's character, since she shows up as a kind of Mata-hari character: a kick-ass fighter who's willing to seduce men in order to achieve her objectives. I wrote a dissertation chapter on Snow and her use of rhetoric, and the Snow in this novel bears little resemblance to the Snow I studied. (I know this sounds like quibbling, given how much of the novel requires some suspension of disbelief, but this was one element I couldn't quite swallow).
29. Polly Shulman, Enthusiasm. I'll admit--I picked up this book at the library because it had a cover blurb from Stephenie Meyer, and I was curious about the premise. It more than met my expectations; it was a darling story. For years, Julie's been dragged along by her best friend Ashleigh's wild enthusiasms. She's more or less used to it by now. But, just before their sophomore year begins, Julie's dismayed to find that Ashleigh has glommed onto what has always been Julie's private enthusiasm: a love for all things Jane Austen. Ashleigh decides that they must find suitable Mr. Darcys--and since they are unlikely to find such a creature at their public high school, Ashleigh convinces Julie to help her crash a dance at a local all-boys prep school. There, they meet a real candidate for Darcy-hood in the form of Parr, a tall, handsome, sensitive student (and one whom Julie has long admired in town without knowing his name.) Problem is, Ashleigh thinks he's pretty great too, and Julie doesn't have it in her to fight Ashleigh's newest enthusiasm, even if she wanted to . . . I thought the story was a lot of fun, and I loved the strong relationship Julie and Ashleigh had. I liked, too, that while there were the resident evil girls from school, those girls were pretty much just a minor backdrop: the real story focuses on Julie and Ashleigh's friendship, Julie's troubles understanding boys (and her fear of a lack-luster first kiss) and their growing friendship with Parr (who really is pretty great).
30. Ka Hancock, Dancing on Broken Glass (Whitney General). I thought this book was lovely. On her 21st birthday, Lucy Hancock falls hard for Mickey Chandler, a boy several years her senior with a history of bipolar disorder. Although Mickey does what he can to discourage Lucy (experience has taught him the hard way that long-term romantic relationships don't often work with his disorder), he can't help falling for her as well. And so they marry. Lucy, however, has her own complicated history: her parents both died while she was young--her mother of breast cancer. At 26, Lucy fights her own (successful) battle with breast cancer, but the she and Mickey make the difficult decision not to have children. Eight years later, a routine doctor's exam reveals something unexpected (and I don't really think this is a spoiler, because you can see it coming): she's pregnant. Suddenly, she and Mickey have to reconfigure their entire relationship. There were a lot of things I loved about this book, from the beautiful language (some sentences I had to reread just to absorb them) to the engrossing characters. I loved Lucy and the close bonds she has with her sisters; I also loved Mickey, who was broken, but who loved Lucy as much as he could. I liked how the novel dealt so positively with difficult things--not that the author glossed over the difficulties or made light of them, but that she showed how the characters weathered difficult things because they loved each other, and that love was sustaining and ultimately redemptive. There were a few moments that were just a little too "precious," but I think that's hard to avoid in women's lit, given certain genre expectations--and any novel dealing with a baby is bound to have a few of those moments, I think.
31. David Butler, City of Saints (Whitney Speculative). The author describes this as a "gonzo steampunk adventure" and I think that description is pretty accurate. The story takes place in an alternate 1850s U.S.--one where the Mormons have established a separate Kingdom of Deseret, Russians own the Northeast, and Harriet Tubman (I presume she's the "President Tubman") has established a community of African Americans in Mexico. I was intrigued by the story from the opening scene, which has several different factions racing to Salt Lake to try to recruit the Mormons (and their rumored air ships and phlogistan guns--whatever those might be--developed by Madman Pratt) for their side as the North and South inch towards war. Captain Richard Burton, a world explorer, drags along his foppish side-kick, Absalom Fearnley-Standish, in behalf of her Majesty, Queen Victoria. Samuel Clemens leads a delegation for the Northern States. And Edgar Allan Poe, disguised as a gypsy, leads a delegation for Robert E. Lee and other Southern sympathizers (apparently, Poe faked his death in 1849). The author shifts point of view frequently, which was a little disorienting in the beginning, until I got all the different factions established in my head. Butler does a pretty good job of giving each POV a fairly distinctive voice, and the writing cracks a long at a good pace. The premise and the characters were a lot of fun--I enjoyed the parade of familiar historical characters (in addition to those already mentioned, readers meet Porter Rockwell, John D. Lee of the Mountain Meadows Massacre infamy, Bill Hickman, Eliza R. Snow, Brigham Young, George Q. Cannon, Heber Kimball, and others). I was impressed by the steampunk element too: the author clearly knew enough about modern weaponry to invent a realistic range of mechanical inventions. The book I read actually spans four novellas (available separately at Amazon: Liahona, Deseret, Timpanogos, and Teancum). And despite the compelling premise, I started to get a little bored about 2/3 of the way through when all the different gun fights started to blur together for me. I would have preferred a little less action and a more compressed story. There is a fair amount of gore (not surprising in a western where everyone carries a western), which may not appeal to some readers. I also really struggled with Eliza R. Snow's character, since she shows up as a kind of Mata-hari character: a kick-ass fighter who's willing to seduce men in order to achieve her objectives. I wrote a dissertation chapter on Snow and her use of rhetoric, and the Snow in this novel bears little resemblance to the Snow I studied. (I know this sounds like quibbling, given how much of the novel requires some suspension of disbelief, but this was one element I couldn't quite swallow).
Sunday, February 24, 2013
More Whitney books (Mostly General)
Theresa Sneed, No Angel. (Speculative) This novel--the prequel to Sneed's previous novel, No Angel--has an interesting premise (pre-earth life) and dramatic subject matter. The topic seems particularly apt for a Whitney candidate, since it deals with a peculiarly Mormon perspective on Heaven. The novel moved along at a reasonably fast pace (appropriate, since it also deals with the cataclysmic battle in Heaven that led to the expulsion of Lucifer and 1/3 of the hosts of Heaven). However, the novel didn't entirely work for me. One of the main issues, for me, is that this topic calls for an epic voice or approach (think Milton's Paradise Lost). And while Sophie, as narrator, is relatable, the tone of the novel didn't feel epic enough for me--it was much closer to a contemporary YA novel. While that works on one level (presumably most of those in Heaven would be like us, right?), it doesn't help give the novel the epic heft it needs. It also made it harder for me to see Sophie as the heroine that she was meant to be. It was also a little strange to me that Heaven looked so much like 21st century white/western culture (the characters communicate through text-speak; they care a lot about their clothes, and the general aesthetic seems very modern-day). I appreciated Sneed's attempt to understand why people would choose something other than God's plan (her view: they didn't like that some people would fail), but I would have liked to see Sophie more conflicted about her choices. She does have some questions, but they always seemed to get resolved within a few pages or so. I think more conflict for Sophie would have resulted in more tension and a stronger book.
Annette Lyon, Paige. (General) Cute story. I like the idea of four interlocking stories; I'd previously read Olivia (Livvy's story), so it was interesting to me to see how the glimpses I had of Paige were fleshed out in this story. The writing wasn't particularly beautiful, but it was clean (it didn't tend to distract me from the story), and I liked that Paige seemed very real and human to me, and that the ending wasn't necessarily what readers might expect.
Tanya Parker Mills, A Night on Moon Hill. Daphne Lessing, a reclusive professor and writer, has lived more-or-less satisfied with her life until the night she comes home and finds a favorite student drowned in her pool. The discovery of his identity--and connection to her past--shocks Daphne, but not as much as the discovery that this boy expects her to take on the care of a highly unusual child, Eric, who has Asperger's syndrome. Not surprisingly, this child comes to utterly disrupt and remake her life. The opening of this story was incredibly lovely--the writing was lyrical and the imagery very vivid. I loved the description of Daphne's teen relationship (I don't want to spoil the story by sharing anything too detailed), and I liked Daphne herself a lot, despite the fact that she was reserved and sometimes found emotions hard to manage. (I feel like that sometimes too, although not to that extent). The only downside I had to this story was that I didn't feel like the last third or so of the book matched the lyrical quality of the opening. The genre shifts a little, too, into a sort of suspense novel near the end that didn't quite seem to fit the tone of the earlier part of the novel. Still, the novel is worth reading--lovely, flawed characters and a moving storyline.
Camron Wright, The Rent Collector. This story is told in first person by Sang Ly, a young Cambodian woman who lives with her husband, Ki Lim, on the outskirts of Stung Meanchey, the largest municipal waste dump in Cambodia. She, her husband, and their young son eke out a living by "picking"--collecting recyclable garbage and selling it for money. Despite the grim surroundings, they are reasonably happy, surrounded with family and friends. Sang Ly's only real unhappiness is the poor health of her son. One day, however, as things seem to crumble around them, Sang Ly discovers something remarkable: the grumpy old woman who collects their rent (and is called "Cow" behind her back) knows how to read. Sang Ly begs the Rent Collector to teach her to read--this experience will ultimately transform her life. I enjoyed the story--the writing was clear and not too gimicky (a temptation in a story like this). Sang Ly had a clear voice throughout. I liked, too, how the author interwove a variety of different kinds of literature into Sang Ly's life and showed how those things changed her life. As other reviewers have mentioned, this is a story of hope. One of the most interesting things to me was the portrayal of life living near the dump--like Katharine Boo's Beyond the Beautiful Forevers, this book portrays the rather grim life of garbage pickers. Unlike Boo's book (and despite that book's subtitle), this book really did feel hopeful. I'm still not entirely sure whether that is a good thing or not--the literacy that Ly used to transform her life may not realistically succeed in this environment (as it did not always succeed for the real-life characters in Boo's book). Literacy is certainly unlikely to succeed as dramatically as Sang Ly succeeds in the novel (if success is marked by ownership of material goods). Ultimately, though, I think the reader in me would rather have a happy ending at the expense of some realism.
Annette Lyon, Paige. (General) Cute story. I like the idea of four interlocking stories; I'd previously read Olivia (Livvy's story), so it was interesting to me to see how the glimpses I had of Paige were fleshed out in this story. The writing wasn't particularly beautiful, but it was clean (it didn't tend to distract me from the story), and I liked that Paige seemed very real and human to me, and that the ending wasn't necessarily what readers might expect.
Tanya Parker Mills, A Night on Moon Hill. Daphne Lessing, a reclusive professor and writer, has lived more-or-less satisfied with her life until the night she comes home and finds a favorite student drowned in her pool. The discovery of his identity--and connection to her past--shocks Daphne, but not as much as the discovery that this boy expects her to take on the care of a highly unusual child, Eric, who has Asperger's syndrome. Not surprisingly, this child comes to utterly disrupt and remake her life. The opening of this story was incredibly lovely--the writing was lyrical and the imagery very vivid. I loved the description of Daphne's teen relationship (I don't want to spoil the story by sharing anything too detailed), and I liked Daphne herself a lot, despite the fact that she was reserved and sometimes found emotions hard to manage. (I feel like that sometimes too, although not to that extent). The only downside I had to this story was that I didn't feel like the last third or so of the book matched the lyrical quality of the opening. The genre shifts a little, too, into a sort of suspense novel near the end that didn't quite seem to fit the tone of the earlier part of the novel. Still, the novel is worth reading--lovely, flawed characters and a moving storyline.
Camron Wright, The Rent Collector. This story is told in first person by Sang Ly, a young Cambodian woman who lives with her husband, Ki Lim, on the outskirts of Stung Meanchey, the largest municipal waste dump in Cambodia. She, her husband, and their young son eke out a living by "picking"--collecting recyclable garbage and selling it for money. Despite the grim surroundings, they are reasonably happy, surrounded with family and friends. Sang Ly's only real unhappiness is the poor health of her son. One day, however, as things seem to crumble around them, Sang Ly discovers something remarkable: the grumpy old woman who collects their rent (and is called "Cow" behind her back) knows how to read. Sang Ly begs the Rent Collector to teach her to read--this experience will ultimately transform her life. I enjoyed the story--the writing was clear and not too gimicky (a temptation in a story like this). Sang Ly had a clear voice throughout. I liked, too, how the author interwove a variety of different kinds of literature into Sang Ly's life and showed how those things changed her life. As other reviewers have mentioned, this is a story of hope. One of the most interesting things to me was the portrayal of life living near the dump--like Katharine Boo's Beyond the Beautiful Forevers, this book portrays the rather grim life of garbage pickers. Unlike Boo's book (and despite that book's subtitle), this book really did feel hopeful. I'm still not entirely sure whether that is a good thing or not--the literacy that Ly used to transform her life may not realistically succeed in this environment (as it did not always succeed for the real-life characters in Boo's book). Literacy is certainly unlikely to succeed as dramatically as Sang Ly succeeds in the novel (if success is marked by ownership of material goods). Ultimately, though, I think the reader in me would rather have a happy ending at the expense of some realism.
Monday, February 18, 2013
Whitney reading, week one (mostly YA)
I've officially finished reading the YA category for the Whitneys! One down, only . . . seven to go (by Aprilish) if I want to read them all before the winners are announced. Can I do it? Maybe.
It helped that I'd already read two of the nominees, Lisa Mangum's After Hello (I met her at LTUE this weekend and she was charming) and Sariah Wilson's The Ugly Step-Sister Strikes Back, both of which I enjoyed. The remaining three I read in the last week or so.
19. Shannen Crane Camp's Finding June. The basic story here reads sort of like an adolescent fantasy: sixteen year old June, an aspiring actress living in L.A., gets cast for a visiting role on the top-rated crime procedural on television. On set, she meets the dreamy Lukas Leighton. June is thrilled when Lukas seems interested in her, but her best friend Joseph isn't so sure this is a good thing. The plot was sort of predictable beyond this point (it was clear from early on that Joseph likes her--why June never really gets this, even when essentially told this by others, is sort of a mystery to me). The writing was decent, so the novel made for a quick, light read. But days after reading it, I'm still mystified as to why a crime drama would hire a teenager for a big role (that wasn't a high school student), and similarly mystified as to why Lukas Leighton would come on to her so strongly--hasn't he heard of statutory rape? His pursuit of June was pretty open on set; surely the producers or someone would have been worried about the legal ramifications?
20. V is for Virgin, by Kelly Oram. Don't be put off by the title here--this book was actually smart, funny, and cleverly written. Because her biological mother was a teen mom, Val Jensen has decided to remain a virgin until marriage. But when her boyfriend breaks up with her over this decision, Val takes him down in public (in the cafeteria), Val becomes publicly known as "Virgin Val" when the video goes viral. Rather than fight the new label, Val decides to embrace it and launches a line of jewelry ("V" for virgin and "A" for abstinence) to help take the pressure off of girls (and guys) who aren't ready to have sex. At the same time, however, Val meets the hot lead singer of the band Tralse, Kyle Hamilton (a former alum of her high school). Kyle sees her label as a personal challenge. While Val waffles between her attraction to kindness and her fondness of the popular Mormon boy at her high school, she also tries to juggle her increasingly complicated national image. I thought the book did a great job tackling the issue of virginity without making it religious (Val herself isn't Mormon, although some of the kids in the book are), and the interchanges between Val and Kyle had great tension. Some of the discussions were more frank than I think young teens would be comfortable with, and I also wish the ending had left me with just a little more resolution than it did, but overall I enjoyed the book--much more than I expected.
21. Jessica Martinez, the Space Between Us. Of all the YA finalists this year, I think this is the most literary of the bunch--and it definitely deals with some of the darkest issues (drugs, gang rape, teen pregnancy . . .). It wasn't my favorite, though. The main character, Amelia, had an interesting, smart voice. After the death of her mother, Amelia and her sister Charly have lived with their father and grandmother. Since their father, a preacher, lives mostly in his head, Amelia and Charly have been unusually close. That starts to change when Amelia's boyfriend shows an interest in Charly and Amelia dumps him. Then Charly starts keeping secrets, asking Amelia to lie for her and attending questionable parties . . . Amelia's sure Charly's headed for trouble, and, in fact, Charly drops a bombshell: she's pregnant. Rather than create scandal for their father in their small Florida town, the two sisters are shipped off to Canada, to live with their mother's half sister. In addition to dealing with the freakishly cold weather, Amelia has to deal with resentment of her sister, who she thinks has ruined her life. But it turns out there's more to Charly's story than Amelia thinks, and the story supposedly traces their growth back together. And this is where I see the problem. I get that YA doesn't want to overexplain things to readers (that's a sign of more MG novels), but I could have used a little more explanation at the end. I'd also like to see more of the upbeat Amelia--for so much of the novel she's grim, which makes the novel rather grim to read. Also, Amelia comes across as a little passive: toward the end, her sister makes many of the big decisions, rather than Amelia. I'd liked to have seen a little more pro-activity on her part.
22. Shannon Hale, Princess Academy. (Middle Grade) I started reading this months ago and got distracted; the Whitneys gave me an excuse to finish it. And, not surprisingly (since I like most of Hale's books), I really liked it. I love that it looks at multiple sides in a revolution through Miri's point of view, allowing us to sympathize with different people for different reasons. I also love how Miri learns about Rhetoric, since as a rhetoric/composition PhD, this is an area close to my heart. Plus, it's lovely to see Miri finally get the happiness she deserves.
23. C. David Belt, Penitent. (Adult Speculative) This is the second in the series, and I haven't read the first, so I might be doing it a disservice . . . There were some positive points to the novel: the plotting and pacing was quick, so it swept the reader along at a brisk pace. And people who like vampire novels with lots of physical fighting and swords, won't be disappointed. However, I'm not one of those people. I will admit that after reading Belt's afterward, about how he was more interested in questions of agency (in his world, vampires must *choose* to become vampires--all save one, the main character's husband Carl, who's the Unwilling and an object of prophesy). The main characters are Mormon vampires, which does give the author some interesting play with LDS theology, like ideas of redemption (can vampires embrace God and give up their blood-lust? Answer: Yes. They can't survive without human blood, but they can refrain from killing). Other doctrinal questions the author doesn't really answer (like why would God allow creatures so powerful to interact with humans?). However, there were a couple of issues I couldn't get over. One was the narrator's heavy Scottish brogue. For the first couple of pages, I thought the narrator was an old man; when I realized she was a woman, I thought she must be an old woman. When I finally realized she was a two-hundred year vampire who lived in a 17-year-old body, I was just confused. Surely after living in America for so long, that heavy brogue would wear off? (For a good contrast, think of Matthew in Deborah Harkness' books; he's French, but there's no reason you'd initially know that about him, because his accents are all impeccable). Or at least, just surface only in times of stress? Does the author have to use "nae" and "dinnae" and "ken" on every page? Apparently so. I also had a hard time keeping the many different characters separate. The author gave elaborate backstories for most of the characters when we first meet them--I found this habit a little distracting (I'd rather learn the pieces a bit at a time). But it didn't really individualize people for me, except as caricatures (she's the woman who hates men; he's the Navajo Indian who used to hate whites, etc.) I would have liked perhaps fewer characters and more personality to help distinguish the characters.
24. Sian Bessey, Within the Dark Hills. (Historical). This story follows Annie, a serving made who leaves her position when the son of the house makes a move on her, and Evan, a widower with a young daughter to care for. After an accident at the mine where Evan works leaves his brother-in-law unable to work (and Evan's sister thus unable to care for Evan's daughter), Evan turns to the local minister for help. The minister, who's been sheltering Annie, offers a solution: a marriage of convenience. A safe haven for Annie, and someone to watch after Evan's daughter. While much of the novel was pretty predictable, it did have some interesting and sweet moments. The historical detail about the mines was the most interesting part of the story, in my opinion. The developing romance between Annie and Evan could have been fleshed out, as could their eventual conversion by Mormon missionaries. (While the story is generally told in close third person, shifting between Annie and Evan, the account of the baptism just glosses over *both* of them to say that those attending were baptized.)
It helped that I'd already read two of the nominees, Lisa Mangum's After Hello (I met her at LTUE this weekend and she was charming) and Sariah Wilson's The Ugly Step-Sister Strikes Back, both of which I enjoyed. The remaining three I read in the last week or so.
19. Shannen Crane Camp's Finding June. The basic story here reads sort of like an adolescent fantasy: sixteen year old June, an aspiring actress living in L.A., gets cast for a visiting role on the top-rated crime procedural on television. On set, she meets the dreamy Lukas Leighton. June is thrilled when Lukas seems interested in her, but her best friend Joseph isn't so sure this is a good thing. The plot was sort of predictable beyond this point (it was clear from early on that Joseph likes her--why June never really gets this, even when essentially told this by others, is sort of a mystery to me). The writing was decent, so the novel made for a quick, light read. But days after reading it, I'm still mystified as to why a crime drama would hire a teenager for a big role (that wasn't a high school student), and similarly mystified as to why Lukas Leighton would come on to her so strongly--hasn't he heard of statutory rape? His pursuit of June was pretty open on set; surely the producers or someone would have been worried about the legal ramifications?
20. V is for Virgin, by Kelly Oram. Don't be put off by the title here--this book was actually smart, funny, and cleverly written. Because her biological mother was a teen mom, Val Jensen has decided to remain a virgin until marriage. But when her boyfriend breaks up with her over this decision, Val takes him down in public (in the cafeteria), Val becomes publicly known as "Virgin Val" when the video goes viral. Rather than fight the new label, Val decides to embrace it and launches a line of jewelry ("V" for virgin and "A" for abstinence) to help take the pressure off of girls (and guys) who aren't ready to have sex. At the same time, however, Val meets the hot lead singer of the band Tralse, Kyle Hamilton (a former alum of her high school). Kyle sees her label as a personal challenge. While Val waffles between her attraction to kindness and her fondness of the popular Mormon boy at her high school, she also tries to juggle her increasingly complicated national image. I thought the book did a great job tackling the issue of virginity without making it religious (Val herself isn't Mormon, although some of the kids in the book are), and the interchanges between Val and Kyle had great tension. Some of the discussions were more frank than I think young teens would be comfortable with, and I also wish the ending had left me with just a little more resolution than it did, but overall I enjoyed the book--much more than I expected.
21. Jessica Martinez, the Space Between Us. Of all the YA finalists this year, I think this is the most literary of the bunch--and it definitely deals with some of the darkest issues (drugs, gang rape, teen pregnancy . . .). It wasn't my favorite, though. The main character, Amelia, had an interesting, smart voice. After the death of her mother, Amelia and her sister Charly have lived with their father and grandmother. Since their father, a preacher, lives mostly in his head, Amelia and Charly have been unusually close. That starts to change when Amelia's boyfriend shows an interest in Charly and Amelia dumps him. Then Charly starts keeping secrets, asking Amelia to lie for her and attending questionable parties . . . Amelia's sure Charly's headed for trouble, and, in fact, Charly drops a bombshell: she's pregnant. Rather than create scandal for their father in their small Florida town, the two sisters are shipped off to Canada, to live with their mother's half sister. In addition to dealing with the freakishly cold weather, Amelia has to deal with resentment of her sister, who she thinks has ruined her life. But it turns out there's more to Charly's story than Amelia thinks, and the story supposedly traces their growth back together. And this is where I see the problem. I get that YA doesn't want to overexplain things to readers (that's a sign of more MG novels), but I could have used a little more explanation at the end. I'd also like to see more of the upbeat Amelia--for so much of the novel she's grim, which makes the novel rather grim to read. Also, Amelia comes across as a little passive: toward the end, her sister makes many of the big decisions, rather than Amelia. I'd liked to have seen a little more pro-activity on her part.
22. Shannon Hale, Princess Academy. (Middle Grade) I started reading this months ago and got distracted; the Whitneys gave me an excuse to finish it. And, not surprisingly (since I like most of Hale's books), I really liked it. I love that it looks at multiple sides in a revolution through Miri's point of view, allowing us to sympathize with different people for different reasons. I also love how Miri learns about Rhetoric, since as a rhetoric/composition PhD, this is an area close to my heart. Plus, it's lovely to see Miri finally get the happiness she deserves.
23. C. David Belt, Penitent. (Adult Speculative) This is the second in the series, and I haven't read the first, so I might be doing it a disservice . . . There were some positive points to the novel: the plotting and pacing was quick, so it swept the reader along at a brisk pace. And people who like vampire novels with lots of physical fighting and swords, won't be disappointed. However, I'm not one of those people. I will admit that after reading Belt's afterward, about how he was more interested in questions of agency (in his world, vampires must *choose* to become vampires--all save one, the main character's husband Carl, who's the Unwilling and an object of prophesy). The main characters are Mormon vampires, which does give the author some interesting play with LDS theology, like ideas of redemption (can vampires embrace God and give up their blood-lust? Answer: Yes. They can't survive without human blood, but they can refrain from killing). Other doctrinal questions the author doesn't really answer (like why would God allow creatures so powerful to interact with humans?). However, there were a couple of issues I couldn't get over. One was the narrator's heavy Scottish brogue. For the first couple of pages, I thought the narrator was an old man; when I realized she was a woman, I thought she must be an old woman. When I finally realized she was a two-hundred year vampire who lived in a 17-year-old body, I was just confused. Surely after living in America for so long, that heavy brogue would wear off? (For a good contrast, think of Matthew in Deborah Harkness' books; he's French, but there's no reason you'd initially know that about him, because his accents are all impeccable). Or at least, just surface only in times of stress? Does the author have to use "nae" and "dinnae" and "ken" on every page? Apparently so. I also had a hard time keeping the many different characters separate. The author gave elaborate backstories for most of the characters when we first meet them--I found this habit a little distracting (I'd rather learn the pieces a bit at a time). But it didn't really individualize people for me, except as caricatures (she's the woman who hates men; he's the Navajo Indian who used to hate whites, etc.) I would have liked perhaps fewer characters and more personality to help distinguish the characters.
24. Sian Bessey, Within the Dark Hills. (Historical). This story follows Annie, a serving made who leaves her position when the son of the house makes a move on her, and Evan, a widower with a young daughter to care for. After an accident at the mine where Evan works leaves his brother-in-law unable to work (and Evan's sister thus unable to care for Evan's daughter), Evan turns to the local minister for help. The minister, who's been sheltering Annie, offers a solution: a marriage of convenience. A safe haven for Annie, and someone to watch after Evan's daughter. While much of the novel was pretty predictable, it did have some interesting and sweet moments. The historical detail about the mines was the most interesting part of the story, in my opinion. The developing romance between Annie and Evan could have been fleshed out, as could their eventual conversion by Mormon missionaries. (While the story is generally told in close third person, shifting between Annie and Evan, the account of the baptism just glosses over *both* of them to say that those attending were baptized.)
Sunday, February 10, 2013
Gearing Up for the Whitneys
I'm fairly new to the world of the Whitney Awards (I think I heard of them for the first time three years ago), but I'm rapidly becoming a fan--and only partly because we review some of the Whitney finalists over at Segullah, where I'm a staff editor and blog contributor. It's interesting to me to see who gets nominated and who doesn't (I'm sad to see no Ally Condie on this year's list). I also enjoy reading (most) of the finalists--it gives me a better feel for a writing community that I hope to someday enter.
So, fair warning. In the next couple of months you're going to be hearing about several of the Whitney finalists as I try to read my way through the list.
In the meantime, here's what I read this week.
17. Deborah Harkness, Shadow of Night. This book has taken me nearly three weeks to get through (and yes, I was two days late getting it back to the library because I didn't want to get on the wait list again . . .). Not because it isn't good--it is--but because it's so jam packed with stuff: historical details, characters, etc. Also, I read other books as I was going through it. I thought this continuation of Matthew and Diana's story was fascinating at parts--I loved meeting Mary Sidney, whose poetry I studied in college--and their sojourn in Prague and Elizabethan England were interesting. But it felt too long in parts, and I'm not entirely sure how the overall plot of the trilogy was advanced, other than some interesting discoveries about the Ashmole document. Still, I'm sure I'll be reading the conclusion at some point.
18. Jason Wright, 13th Day of Christmas (Whitney finalist, General). This is the kind of book I think most readers think of when they think of LDS fiction (certainly I do). It's not my cup of tea, though I know lots of readers probably love the "heart-warming" story line, about a young girl who befriends an 80 something year-old widow, and how their friendship sustains them both through hard times, including life-threatening illness. And I'm sure the expressions of faith in the book are sincere--and the sentiments expressed are good ones--but I don't like feeling like I'm being manipulated, which is how I felt reading this. Also, the plot was pretty predictable.
So, fair warning. In the next couple of months you're going to be hearing about several of the Whitney finalists as I try to read my way through the list.
In the meantime, here's what I read this week.
17. Deborah Harkness, Shadow of Night. This book has taken me nearly three weeks to get through (and yes, I was two days late getting it back to the library because I didn't want to get on the wait list again . . .). Not because it isn't good--it is--but because it's so jam packed with stuff: historical details, characters, etc. Also, I read other books as I was going through it. I thought this continuation of Matthew and Diana's story was fascinating at parts--I loved meeting Mary Sidney, whose poetry I studied in college--and their sojourn in Prague and Elizabethan England were interesting. But it felt too long in parts, and I'm not entirely sure how the overall plot of the trilogy was advanced, other than some interesting discoveries about the Ashmole document. Still, I'm sure I'll be reading the conclusion at some point.
18. Jason Wright, 13th Day of Christmas (Whitney finalist, General). This is the kind of book I think most readers think of when they think of LDS fiction (certainly I do). It's not my cup of tea, though I know lots of readers probably love the "heart-warming" story line, about a young girl who befriends an 80 something year-old widow, and how their friendship sustains them both through hard times, including life-threatening illness. And I'm sure the expressions of faith in the book are sincere--and the sentiments expressed are good ones--but I don't like feeling like I'm being manipulated, which is how I felt reading this. Also, the plot was pretty predictable.
It Never Rains but it Pours
Some weeks, I go to the library and lament the lack of interesting offerings. Some weeks, I'm literally overwhelmed by them. (This week was one of those bountiful weeks--and I read some great stuff).
12. Running Barefoot, Amy Harmon. This book started slowly and felt like it could benefit from some pruning; despite that, there was a lot that I loved about the book. I loved the setting in rural Levan, Utah. Harmon's descriptions were so vivid that I could easily imagine myself there. I loved her honest portrayal of the predominantly Mormon society that lived there; she was neither condescending nor preachy. I also loved the complex relationship between Josie Jensen, who's trying to keep her family intact after her mother's death, and Samuel, the half-Navajo grandson of Josie's neighbors. At thirteen, Josie forms an unlikely bond with Samuel (he's eighteen, a senior looking to enter the Marine Corps) through classical music. When Samuel leaves for the military, Josie is lonely but continues to write him. It's not until years later, and following a personal tragedy in Josie's life, that Samuel returns to Levan and the two reconnect. Although what follows isn't necessarily surprising, Harmon kept things interesting by layering their relationship with depth. And her prose was generally simple and lovely.
13. Reasons I Fell For the Ugly Fat Friend, by Rebecca Ann. I wanted to like this book more than I actually did--I'd heard great things about it and I respect what I know of the author. The author does a nice job with a realistic boy voice (I never once felt like I was listening to a girl), and the book had a lot of humor. I also definitely related to the love interest, an interesting teenage girl with a less than perfect figure. There were two things that I didn't love about the book: 1) it was a little steamier than I like with YA (I realize not everyone has this objection!). 2) It felt just a little shallow--so much of the novel was just about the boy getting the girl to believe that he really cared about her; I felt like the book could have used the added depth of some additional sub-plots.
14. The Ugly Stepsister Strikes Back, by Sariah Wilson. This story follows quirky Mattie Lowe, a girl in love with her step-sister's boyfriend, Jake Harmon. Unfortunately for her, her step-sister is too nice for her to hate, or to try to steal her boyfriend (even if she thought she could). However, when she and Jake get assigned to the same English project, they start to form an actual friendship--one that's tested when Mattie decides to run against Jake for student body president to bolster her college applications. There's plenty of subplots here (Mattie's relationship with her sister and her absentee mom; her fear that her artistic parents will reject her interest in drawing manga; her step-sister's romance), but they all add to the main plot. I thought this was really cute--despite the plot hole in Mattie's run for student government--most schools hold elections for senior officers during the junior year, not during the fall of senior year.
15. The Raven Boys, by Maggie Stiefvater. I've been looking for this at my library forever and was so excited to finally see it in stock! I enjoyed this book. While it didn't have the breathtaking beauty of Scorpio Races, it did have her trademark lovely writing. The premise itself is awesome: Blue Sargent has been raised in a house full of women, all of whom have varying psychic powers. Blue's only power is as an amplifier of their powers. However, on St. Mark's Eve, while helping her aunt record the spirits of the dead (those who will die in the next twelve months), Blue actually sees one of the spirits--a Raven boy, one of the kids who attends the posh boy's school in town. Her aunt tells her there's only two reasons why she would see him: either he's her true love, or she killed him. (Or perhaps both, as Blue has known for years that if she kissed her true love, he would die). It's not surprising, then, that within a couple of weeks Blue has actually met this boy, Gansey, who's obsessed with finding the ley lines in the valley, as he thinks they will lead him to the spirit of a long-vanished Welsh King (akin to Arthur). Faster than she could have expected, Blue finds herself enmeshed in Gansey's life, and befriending his quirky circle of friends: Adam, with his strange fragility, Noah, who sometimes hardly seems there, and Ronan, who hates almost everyone. The characters were fascinating to me, and I can't wait to see what happens next in the series.
16. Seraphina, by Rachel Hartman. Two days after finishing this book, I still feel like I'm half inhabiting Hartman's world, which is a clear sign of a successful novel for me. Seraphina has a secret, one that may make her an outcast among her people if it gets out. The secret means that she protects her privacy, though she desperately wants to make friends at the palace where she works (assistant music master). Seraphina's world is a tense one, on the eve of the arrival of the Ardmagar, the old dragon who helped negotiate a truce between humans and dragons with the old queen. Too many humans think the treaty was a mistake; the older generation of dragons believes this as well. Seraphina's unique gifts may enable her to save her world by preserving this fragile peace, but only at great personal cost.
12. Running Barefoot, Amy Harmon. This book started slowly and felt like it could benefit from some pruning; despite that, there was a lot that I loved about the book. I loved the setting in rural Levan, Utah. Harmon's descriptions were so vivid that I could easily imagine myself there. I loved her honest portrayal of the predominantly Mormon society that lived there; she was neither condescending nor preachy. I also loved the complex relationship between Josie Jensen, who's trying to keep her family intact after her mother's death, and Samuel, the half-Navajo grandson of Josie's neighbors. At thirteen, Josie forms an unlikely bond with Samuel (he's eighteen, a senior looking to enter the Marine Corps) through classical music. When Samuel leaves for the military, Josie is lonely but continues to write him. It's not until years later, and following a personal tragedy in Josie's life, that Samuel returns to Levan and the two reconnect. Although what follows isn't necessarily surprising, Harmon kept things interesting by layering their relationship with depth. And her prose was generally simple and lovely.
13. Reasons I Fell For the Ugly Fat Friend, by Rebecca Ann. I wanted to like this book more than I actually did--I'd heard great things about it and I respect what I know of the author. The author does a nice job with a realistic boy voice (I never once felt like I was listening to a girl), and the book had a lot of humor. I also definitely related to the love interest, an interesting teenage girl with a less than perfect figure. There were two things that I didn't love about the book: 1) it was a little steamier than I like with YA (I realize not everyone has this objection!). 2) It felt just a little shallow--so much of the novel was just about the boy getting the girl to believe that he really cared about her; I felt like the book could have used the added depth of some additional sub-plots.
14. The Ugly Stepsister Strikes Back, by Sariah Wilson. This story follows quirky Mattie Lowe, a girl in love with her step-sister's boyfriend, Jake Harmon. Unfortunately for her, her step-sister is too nice for her to hate, or to try to steal her boyfriend (even if she thought she could). However, when she and Jake get assigned to the same English project, they start to form an actual friendship--one that's tested when Mattie decides to run against Jake for student body president to bolster her college applications. There's plenty of subplots here (Mattie's relationship with her sister and her absentee mom; her fear that her artistic parents will reject her interest in drawing manga; her step-sister's romance), but they all add to the main plot. I thought this was really cute--despite the plot hole in Mattie's run for student government--most schools hold elections for senior officers during the junior year, not during the fall of senior year.
15. The Raven Boys, by Maggie Stiefvater. I've been looking for this at my library forever and was so excited to finally see it in stock! I enjoyed this book. While it didn't have the breathtaking beauty of Scorpio Races, it did have her trademark lovely writing. The premise itself is awesome: Blue Sargent has been raised in a house full of women, all of whom have varying psychic powers. Blue's only power is as an amplifier of their powers. However, on St. Mark's Eve, while helping her aunt record the spirits of the dead (those who will die in the next twelve months), Blue actually sees one of the spirits--a Raven boy, one of the kids who attends the posh boy's school in town. Her aunt tells her there's only two reasons why she would see him: either he's her true love, or she killed him. (Or perhaps both, as Blue has known for years that if she kissed her true love, he would die). It's not surprising, then, that within a couple of weeks Blue has actually met this boy, Gansey, who's obsessed with finding the ley lines in the valley, as he thinks they will lead him to the spirit of a long-vanished Welsh King (akin to Arthur). Faster than she could have expected, Blue finds herself enmeshed in Gansey's life, and befriending his quirky circle of friends: Adam, with his strange fragility, Noah, who sometimes hardly seems there, and Ronan, who hates almost everyone. The characters were fascinating to me, and I can't wait to see what happens next in the series.
16. Seraphina, by Rachel Hartman. Two days after finishing this book, I still feel like I'm half inhabiting Hartman's world, which is a clear sign of a successful novel for me. Seraphina has a secret, one that may make her an outcast among her people if it gets out. The secret means that she protects her privacy, though she desperately wants to make friends at the palace where she works (assistant music master). Seraphina's world is a tense one, on the eve of the arrival of the Ardmagar, the old dragon who helped negotiate a truce between humans and dragons with the old queen. Too many humans think the treaty was a mistake; the older generation of dragons believes this as well. Seraphina's unique gifts may enable her to save her world by preserving this fragile peace, but only at great personal cost.
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