Co-review: I Am Not a Serial Killer

It's fitting that this review comes so soon after Jenny recently reviewed Brandon Sanderson's newest book, since Dan Wells credits Sanderson with pushing him to write I Am Not a Serial Killer in the first place. Having Sanderson's support wasn't enough to make it very easy to get a hold of, though. Initially it was only published in the UK, then was released in the US last spring. But I still had to wait for an InterLibrary Loan (from out-of-state, no less!) to finally get my hands on it.


I Am Not a Serial Killer is a first-person narrative by an intriguing, yet disturbing, 15-year-old boy. John Wayne Cleaver is a morbid teenager who has been raised in a mortuary and has a keen fascination with death. He is obsessed with serial killers and makes a hobby out of studying them. The more he learns, the more convinced he is that he is destined to become a serial killer himself. But he doesn't want that, so he desperately follows a set of self-imposed rules to try to counteract his sociopathic tendencies.

Things change for John when a series of gruesome murders begin haunting the small town. John's unique perspective allows him to discover the murderer long before the police even get close, and he becomes convinced that he is the only one who can stop the killer. But to do so, he feels he must surrender to the monster within, and risk losing himself (or fulfilling his destiny, he's not sure which) forever.

As usual, we like to discuss these co-reviews openly, so consider yourself forewarned!

Caren: After a run of somewhat blah books lately, I Am Not a Serial Killer really made me sit up and take notice. I don't like guts and gore, so I felt pretty squeamish at the beginning when he was describing the process of embalming and the details of the first violent murder. Fortunately, he didn't go into a lot of graphic detail with every murder, or else I might not have been able to get much farther than the first few chapters! But I have to admit that I have a new appreciation for morticians now. I'm so grateful that there are people who make death so sanitary for the rest of us!

Jenny:  I made the mistake of sitting down to eat my lunch while I read this book the first time.  I made a note to myself never to do that again.  It did make me grateful that there are people, non-psychotic people, out there in the world who are willing and able to do the work of preparing the dead for burial.  'Cause it's gross.

I thought it was fascinating that our protagonist and potential hero is a mentally-disturbed teenage boy with his own monster waiting to strike and kill.  Very cool and original.  Freaky too, but it made the angle of the story different than what I was expecting.  Two things that took me by surprise was that we found out who the killer was fairly early in the story and that the killer wasn't human.  I thought for sure this would be a murder mystery that put John into suspicion as the killer and then he used his knowledge of serial killers to find the real killer.  Nope, nothing like that.  When I realized that the story was more about John using his inner demon to destroy the actual demon, it was all symbolic and stuff.

Caren: I was surprised by the supernatural element too.  John talks about himself and his disturbing tendencies in such a gritty matter-of-fact way that I expected the villain to be someone straight out of the news, not out of a comic book.  And it sure surprised me when the killer turned out to be his harmless neighbor!  (It's been a while since I've been genuinely surprised in a novel, so that was kind of fun.)  In some ways it was probably better to have the killer be this weird demon masquerading as a nice old man.  It was easier to read it late at night with the distance of "this could never happen in real life."

The demon was scary, but the creepiest and most disturbing thing to me was watching John struggle with his own unnatural inhumanity.  It makes me wonder how accurate Wells' portrayal is from a psychological standpoint.  I liked that John's therapist didn't think he was beyond hope, and I was glad that he shows himself capable of genuine feeling at the end when he and his mother defeat the demon.  That gives me hope that he's not a true sociopath destined to become a serial killer like he fears.  Even the fact that he doesn't want to become one should count for something, right?

Jenny:  I have a really hard time with books or movies that are about horrific things that can actually happen in real life.  Sci-fi doesn't scare me, just gives me the fun heebie jeebies.  If the killer had been a real person, it would have been way harder to read and I definitely would have avoided reading it at night.  For that I'm glad it was just a super creepy killer monster with a soft side for his wife.

What was really scary to me was when John let his inner monster out.  When he bashed Mrs. Crowley's head with the alarm clock and barely stopped himself from killing her, I was in agony.  I begged Wells not to let John become the monster that he was threatening to become.  Like you said, I also like that his therapist was a good person who truly thought John was a good person with a strong moral code.  He needed Neblin at that critical point and Neblin didn't fail him.  It cost him his life, but it kept John under control.

At that point in the book, my heart was pounding in my chest and I could barely breathe.  As soon as John saw on his GPS that the demon was heading back to the house, I thought I was going to jump out of my skin.  It's been a while since a book had me in such suspense.

Caren: Oh man, me too! It's a good thing it didn't get any more suspenseful because I could barely stand it as it was.  Which made it perfect for Halloween!  And yet, for as creepy and violent as it was, it was surprisingly clean.  I can't remember any bad language or anything sexual, which I would have expected for an edgy novel about a would-be serial killer.

I thought Wells did a really good job with the suspense and developing John's character.  In the acknowledgments, he insists that it's not autobiographical, but I wasn't convinced.  That's how believable John's character was!  (That, and I can't help but wonder about how well-balanced an author can be who writes about such psychosis so convincingly.)  But I admired Wells' restraint.  He showed us just enough of John's dysfunctional relationships with family and friends and his obsession with serial killers to give us a clear picture of his psyche without overdoing it.  It would have been really easy to go over-the-top with a character like John, but Wells didn't, and his reserve made for a stronger novel.

I am both intrigued and nervous that Wells intends this to be the first of a trilogy (I think the second was just recently published).  Intrigued because I am a little curious about what happens to John now.  He's made a breakthrough with his mother.  He has let loose his own monster with it's major issues.  And there were enough references to his father that make me wonder if there is more to come with that story.  But I am nervous that for the story to continue, it will only be because John has greater demons -- both within and without -- that he has to face.  I'm not sure I can handle that!  And I definitely don't like what more novels might mean for the sweet and innocent Brooke that he's stalking at the end.  It makes me shudder just thinking about it!

At least he ends this first novel well enough that I don't feel like I have to read the next one to finish the story.  I always appreciate that in an author!

Jenny:  Yeah, I just read online that it was going to be a trilogy.  It didn't have the feel of a trilogy at the end of the book, so I was surprised.  I'm kinda excited to see where Wells takes John and his tortured self.  There was some seriously scary and upsetting parts in this book, but nothing that wouldn't stop me from reading the next two books.  I have enough faith in Wells' plans for John that I think it could turn out okay in the end.

I just remembered that we read Odd Thomas a few years ago for our October co-review and how scary that was.  Comparing Odd and John to each other, they are polar opposites.  Odd is peace-loving and non-violent except when he's forced to while having a strange ability thrust upon him, while John is tormented by desires to do great violence and constantly keeps it in check.  Yet, I think I like John just as much as I liked Odd.  Not because John is inherently likable, but because he works so hard to be good.  You've read more Odd Thomas than me, what do you think?

Caren: You know, it's funny that you mention Odd Thomas, because I thought of it too.  Partly because that was probably the last time I read something this suspenseful, and partly because of the supernatural element.  You're right that whereas Odd is so good and innocent, John is just plain scary.  But at the same time I can't help feeling compassion for him and wanting everything to work out.  I liked him, even though he freaked me out.

One thing I liked about the story is that as disturbing as it was, there was no such thing as violence without consequences.  So often in the action/thriller genres the good guys commit necessary acts of violence without it affecting their characters.  But the violence John committed changed him, just as it would in real life.  I liked that Wells forced us to face that when a good guy does bad things he can't walk away unscathed.

Okay, I looked up the next one and it looks to be even darker and more intense than the first.  It's called Mr. Monster and picks up right where I Am Not a Serial Killer ends.  The reviews look compelling; people seem to like it even more than the first.  Tell you what, you read it and then let me know what you think.  Maybe I can muster up enough courage if I know it's worth it.

Jenny:  Deal.  I will totally take care of that for you.  I'm excited to see where Wells will take the story.

Co-review: Stargirl

Back in May, I wrote a post about the Top 100 Children's Novels poll that was done by the School Library Journal blog.  Going through the list is fascinating and I've often gone back to look for books for my children.  Caren suggested we pick a book from the list for a co-review, so we narrowed it down to #61, Stargirl by Jerry Spinelli.  We tried to find a book that was closer to the top of the list that neither of us had read, but these are classics that most people have read, including us.  It wasn't as easy as it looked.

Jerry Spinelli is probably more known for Maniac Magee, #17 on the list and a Newberry winner.  Spinelli shows that he isn't shy about tackling sticky subjects when he writes about racism in Magee, and Stargirl is his platform for examining conformity.  It takes place in a smallish town in Arizona and told from the point of view of high school student Leo Borlock.  High school is typically a homogeneous place with everybody fitting into their allotted cliques.  Once you fit into a spot, it's hard to move out of it, if my memory of high school serves right.  Mica Area High School is no different.

The entire school is thrown for a loop when Stargirl Caraway shows up.  She wears bizarre clothes, plays a ukulele during lunch and serenades kids on their birthdays, has a pet rat named Cinnamon that rides around in her purse, and seems completely at ease with her uniqueness.  Most of the other students find her unnerving, but eventually they start to love her, especially after she brings school spirit back to the sports teams by her antics during football.  Some of the other students hate her, especially Hillari Kimble, head cheerleader and queen of the school.  Hillari doesn't enjoy her spotlight being occupied by Stargirl.

When Stargirl becomes a cheerleader, the basketball team suddenly begins to have enormous success.  The whole school and community becomes obsessed with their winning streak, but when Stargirl cheers for both teams at the games, everyone turns against her.  Where she was once loved, she is now universally reviled.  Leo, who fell in love with her quirkiness and was fascinated with her generosity and love for people, is conflicted as soon as all the negative attention starts.  He wishes that Stargirl would just be like everyone else, but not for her sake but his own.

Not that there's much to spoil in this book, but as always, we talk about everything.

Jenny:  One of the hardest things about high school for me was that demand to blend in, to find a group of like-minded people and stay put.  It wasn't until I left for college that I felt like I finally was able to become the person I always wanted to be.  There just wasn't any room or tolerance for it in high school, but I was also too afraid to step outside my comfort zone.  I related to Leo so much because he loved Stargirl's individuality, but he was also afraid of it.

Caren: I don't think I was self-aware enough in high school to know what I wanted to be, but I definitely felt like my peers' perceptions barely scratched the surface of who I really was. Like you said, college was a refreshing opportunity to reinvent myself away from the stifling confines of high school.  Reading Stargirl, I found myself wishing Leo would stop worrying about what everyone thought and just enjoy their friendship.  But then I would have to remind myself that I can't apply adult perspective to a teenager who literally cannot envision life after high school.  When that's all you have and you can't imagine it ever changing, the risks for not conforming are a lot higher!

I was intrigued by the character of Stargirl.  Not at first.  At first she seemed to try to hard to be weird.  But eventually she won me over and I believed that her uniqueness was genuine and not just an act.  I think her believability was crucial to the success of the story, and Spinelli did a good job pulling it off when all was said and done.

Jenny:  I think what made her genuine to me was when we found out all the nice things she did for people.  Someone who is weird just to get a reaction out of people or draw attention to herself wouldn't be so generous and kind, I don't think.  The bit with going into the desert and meditating wasn't as believable to me as taking pictures of the neighbor boy or a future scrapbook.  That was sweet.

It really bothered me how the group of kids reacted when Stargirl was the guest for The Hot Seat.  It was a prime example of mob mentality and how dangerous that can be.  At first I thought it was an outrageous example, except that I remember from high school that if someone fell out of favor, their lives would become truly miserable.  It was like the whole school turned against them.  There wasn't necessarily screaming mobs in public places, the shunning was definitely common.  What happened to Stargirl was awful, but not unrealistic.

One of my favorite characters was the old professor across the street from the school, Archie Brubaker.  I thought it was a cool idea, but it made me sad to think that in real life, there wouldn't be someone like that.  It's too easy for people to assume horrible things of an old man who has kids over at his house all the time.  It's a nice idea, though.

Caren: I was actually relieved when the Hot Seat was over that it wasn't any worse than that.  Having seen what the teenage mob mentality can do, I was expecting worse!

The whole time I read Stargirl, I couldn't help but think of As Simple As Snow that we reviewed back in March.  There were a lot of similarities, but while Galloway seemed to be intent on forcing a dark edginess to his story, Spinelli kept his lighter and therefore more realistic.  Spinelli really seemed to be speaking to teenagers, whereas I'm not really sure who Galloway's audience was supposed to be.  Contrasting the two, I marvel that Spinelli's climax revolves around something so mundane as the bunny hop, and yet he relates it so skillfully that you really feel like those kids were changed when it was over.

Jenny:  That's true.  I loved that scene, with everybody happy and exultant after bunny hopping way out yonder and back.  It was a good way for Stargirl to disappear into the sunset.  I'm glad it ended that way instead of Stargirl just evaporating and everybody realizing after the fact that she only did good things for them.

Apparently there's one book after this one, Love, Stargirl.  I haven't heard great things about it, but it's written in Stargirl's point of view, which might be interesting.  Also, according to Jerry Spinelli's website, you can start your own Stargirl society.  Maybe it's because I'm not a teenager, but I didn't feel so moved by the book that I felt like I should start my own Stargirl society.  Then again, I suppose promoting individuality in teenage girls isn't a bad idea.  Most girls that age need a boost to break out of the mold.

Caren: I had mixed feelings about the ending.  While I was glad that Leo had come to realize what a treasure Stargirl was, I was kind of bothered that he still hadn't gotten over her fifteen years later.  I mean, she was great and all, but that seemed a little much.

I liked that the things that endured were the kindnesses to others.  Individuality for its own sake can be just as forced and fake as conformity with the masses, so I don't think that's the most important thing that Stargirl brought.  But the sensitivity to others and getting outside oneself -- that really was a gift.

I felt the same way about being moved by the novel.  It was good, but I wouldn't read it again, and I'm kind of surprised that people love it so much that it would have made it on the top 100 list.  I'm curious if I would have felt differently if I'd read it when I was a teenager, but we'll never know!

Jenny:  Yeah, I was kind of surprised to see it on the list lumped in the same group as The BFG, Henry Huggins, A Long Way From Chicago.  Good, but not Top 100 of All Time good.  Maybe we're missing out on something because our teens are too far behind us.  I'd love it of one the RHE readers read it as a teen and could give us feedback.  Or if anybody has a teenager handy to read it and report back.  Anyone?

Forest Born

Forest Born is Shannon Hale's most recent addition to what is now being called her Books of Bayern series.  What started out as a complex and imaginative retelling of the lesser known fairy tale, The Goose Girl, has spread to four novels featuring selected characters from the original story and their supernatural gifts.  Forest Born is different from the other stories in that it features a young girl who wasn't part of the original tale.  Rin is the younger sister of Razo (who received his own story in River Secrets, the third Bayern book), and as with the other forest born characters we've met so far, she finds herself leaving the forest and moving to the city where she experiences some defining coming-of-age moments.

The reader quickly discovers that Rin has a special gift -- that of tree-speaking -- which is expected in these tales of people-speaking, wind-speaking, fire-speaking, and so on.  It takes Rin a little while to realize this, and causes her some grief because for some reason the trees have seemed to turn against her.  Anytime she tries to communicate with them she is filled with such loathing and rejection that she decides to flee the forest and see what the future will hold for her in Bayern's capital.

There she becomes a lady-in-waiting to the queen, Ani/Isi from The Goose Girl.  Rin helps care for Isi's young son, and develops a great amount of respect for Isi and her friends, Enna and Dasha.  When the three "Fire Sisters" leave to investigate some mysterious burnings near the border, Rin secretly follows.  As she grows to know these women better, and as they band together to face a secret enemy, she also begins to face her own self-doubt and desire to know who she really is.  That means solving the mystery of her personal conflict with the trees, and coming to terms with another gift she possesses -- a dangerous one that can destroy her and all she loves.

It was a good story, and well-written as all of Hale's work is, but it wasn't my favorite of the four by any means. It was hard to really connect with Rin, since she spends most of her time observing rather than participating in many of the interactions with the Fire Sisters.  But there's a reason for that, and Hale does do justice to the psychological and interpersonal issues she explores.  It was fun to see so many characters from the earlier books and continue to follow their stories.  There is action and suspense and drama, though it didn't feel quite as fresh and intense as in the first two books, The Goose Girl and Enna Burning (my two personal favorites).  So worth reading if you've enjoyed the others, though not necessarily worth raving about.  I do have to mention that reading it right after finishing Avalon High gave me an intellectual sigh of relief.  I'll pick up a Hale over a Cabot any day!

Okay, and one more thing that bugs.  I loved the stylized artwork they used for the cover art of the first three books.  But when they printed them in paperback, they switched to some cheesy model photos (my mom aptly described them as "seductive American Girl").  Bad enough to do that to the paperbacks, but whatever.  Until they also used that style for the hardback printing of Forest Born, and now it sticks out like a sore thumb against the other three books in my collection.  I much prefer the classy style of the first three and wish they had kept it up for continuity.  Lame.

Mockingjay

If you haven't heard of The Hunger Games series by Suzanne Collins then you are spending your days either living in a cave or being way more productive than I am.  The third and final installment in the series, Mockingjay, just came out this last month and I keep seeing them everywhere.  I picked up a copy at Costco, for cryin' out loud, that's how big of a deal these books are.  I've got some conflicting feelings about the conclusion of the series and I'm going to try very hard to write about it without revealing spoilers.  It's gonna be hard.

I loved the first book, The Hunger Games, but the second, Catching Fire, didn't capture me nearly as well as the first did.  The concept wasn't new and it felt a bit recycled as far as plot and tension went.  I was reading over the posts I did for both the books and while I gave The Hunger Games it's own post and couldn't say enough good things, Catching Fire was lumped in with two other books in a post about series books.  Not a good sign.  If I had been smart, and had the ability to wait that long, I should have waited until all three books are out and then read them back to back to retain more details.  I couldn't remember half of what happened in the previous books which made me keeping saying, "Huh?  What?  Who was that again?".  It could also be that my brain is full of holes.  I wouldn't rule out that possibility.

Mockingjay jumps right in where Catching Fire leaves off with Katniss in District 13 and reluctantly part of the rebellion effort.  Peeta is in the custody of President Snow and presumably being tortured for information.  Ends up, District 13 isn't some idyllic place to live, though it is out from under the Capitol's thumb.  The leaders of the rebellion have their own agenda for Katniss, including to be mascot to stir up rebellion efforts in other districts.  She just wants to be left alone.  Ah, Katniss, you just always want to be left alone.  You've got pouting and agonizing down to a science.  Get over it.  Be helpful or get outta Dodge, I wanted to tell her.  Grow up!  That was another one.  I felt impatient with her pretty much the entire book.  Granted, it's not like she's got some kind of ideal existence but she's so bent on revenge and nobody understands her and everybody just wants to use her.  Whatever.  At least her love for her family felt sincere or I'd worry that her character was intolerable.

One of the big draws of this book is the action and boy howdy, there's plenty.  But not until more than halfway through the book, which was kind of irritating.  There isn't a whole lot of plot before that point either, just lots of worrying by Katniss.  Then, it feels like Collins was trying to make up for the lack of action by making it totally gruesome.  I can't remember how violent the previous books where, but there's no way this wouldn't end up rated R if they made a move out of it.  That's not to say it wasn't exciting and totally intense, but I wouldn't recommend it to my grandmother or anyone younger than fifteen years old.

The other big draw is the Katniss/Gale/Peeta love triangle.  Future writers take note: to sell lots of books make sure you include a love triangle.  For me, it became obvious fairly quickly who Katniss was going to end up with, but it seemed like Collins changed what we knew of the guy she didn't go with so that it would make sense for her not to be with him.  It's hard not to give out details.  What I'm trying to say is the guy that was eliminated had to take a pretty big dive to be taken out of the running and it didn't seem in character.  I'd have to go back and read the first two books again to catch what was implied, but instead I'll let you fans of the series correct me.

In all, it was exciting but gory, satisfying but annoying.  I expected to like it more than I did and that was disappointing.  The only thing I really like was what Collins did with Peeta's character.  That was fresh, brilliant and interesting.  The ending took me by complete surprise, but I didn't really understand what had happened so I had to go back and read it again.  I kept thinking, "What now?  Huh?" during the last couple of chapters.  The very last chapter was very satisfying, though, with what Collins did with Katniss and her future family.  It felt right.  I'd re-read the first book for sure, but it wouldn't make sense to not re-read the other books so then I wouldn't re-read the first one after all because then I'd feel obligated to read the next two.  Meh, forget it.

Since young adult novels based on bleak and dystopian futures are all the rage these days, I decided to write my own and pay for my kids' college funds with the piles of money I'll eventually make.  It takes place in the not-so-distant future when the human race has become so fearful of dairy products, due to the careful plotting of the poultry industry, that all cows have been eradicated and harsh fines and prison sentences imposed on those who dare to raise them.  The human race has become universally lactose intolerant and plagued with illnesses related to calcium deficiencies.  High cholesterol has plummeted, though.  The book starts out with a young girl on her family's ranch in Montana where they raise llamas and donkeys and, of course, the government-approved flock of chickens.  Our hero, a girl named Dogla, and her family are hiding a big secret, though.  They are secretly raising a few dairy cows in an underground bunker.  A really smelly underground bunker.  Dogla has to hide her strong bones and teeth from the other kids at school lest the traitorous nature of her family's work be revealed.  When the secret is discovered  by government agents ('cause you know it will be) Dogla and her family are shipped off to the poultry work farms in Alabama as punishment.  Dogla has to plan her escape and bring down the government's evil plot against cows (and goats too, now that I think of it) over the course of at least three books.  Four if I can get a good enough deal with a publisher.  What do you think?  Newberry material?  Not that I care.  I'm in it for the money and you know these babies are gonna sell like vampire novels!

Chalice and Avalon High

One advantage to having a nursing infant is the opportunity to sneak in a chapter here and there throughout the day (and night).  One disadvantage is finding the time to write about what I've read when I can think in coherent thoughts and type with both hands!

A while back, I read several quick YA fantasies, but haven't had the time to write about them until now.  The first was Chalice, by Robin McKinley.  McKinley's Newberry award-winning Hero and the Crown was my first introduction to fantasy when I was young, and I've enjoyed the handful of other novels I've read by her.  I was actually looking for one that had been recommended to me, Spindle's End, which is a retelling of Sleeping Beauty (I think).  But it wasn't in, so I had to settle for Chalice.  Chalice is the story of Marisol, a common beekeeper in the Willowlands who is chosen to be Chalice (a ceremonial position that is part political and part religious).  She assumes the position in the midst of great turmoil after a disastrous accident claims the life of the former Chalice, as well as many of the local leaders, including the Master himself.  The Master's younger brother had been sent away seven years before to become a priest of Fire, but he is called back to fill the role of Master upon his brother's death.  Not quite human any longer, however, he has difficulty fulfilling his responsibilities and gaining the people's trust.  Marisol believes in him, however, and does what she can to save her people, her Master, and the very land itself from outside forces that would try to destroy it.

It was an interesting plot, but fell far short of it's potential.  Part of the problem is that Marisol is so isolated in her role as Chalice that we spend pretty much the whole novel in her head.  There is very little dialogue and even less action.  One scene that could have been a moment of high drama and tension feels shallow because Marisol misses it and has to be told about it later.  I know from her other books that McKinley can do action, so I'm not sure why she shies away from it in this novel.  There is a hint of romance, but it doesn't develop into anything worth getting worked up about.  The political intrigue was interesting, but I felt so trapped in Marisol's thoughts that it too fell flat.  Next time, I'll stick with Spindle's End.

After seeing her novels on my teenage sisters' bedside tables for years, I finally read my very first Meg Cabot story.  Cabot is probably most famous for her Princess Diaries series.  My introduction to her work was through Avalon High, an Arthurian story set in a contemporary setting.  Ellie has moved to Maryland because her parents (who are professors with specialties in Medieval times) are on sabbatical for a year.  Ellie isn't thrilled about the idea of starting a new school, but things look up immensely when she meets Will; the gorgeous quarterback who also happens to be smart, honest, upstanding, and idolized by everyone in the school.  What's surprising is that he takes notice of her, and even begins to prefer her to his beautiful cheerleader girlfriend, Jennifer.  Soon Ellie discovers that Jennifer is cheating on Will with his best friend, Lance.  Over time, more and more parallels can be seen between this little high school drama and that of Arthur's Camelot, and Ellie begins to wonder how she fits in and what she can do to stop the evil events that are destined to follow.

It was a cute little story that didn't take itself too seriously, with plenty of humor to make it light and easy to read.  But the teenage-speak got pretty old after a while, and the characters felt like they had just walked off a teen movie set.  The plot was predictable and the whole thing was really lacking in substance.  I did think the historical aspect looking at Arthurian legend was interesting, but if all of Cabot's work is like this, I'll leave it to the teenagers.

The Short Second Life of Bree Tanner

Stephenie Meyer's newest work, The Short Second Life of Bree Tanner: An Eclipse Novella, is a great example of how to milk one success for all it's worth.  Can you imagine any other author being taken seriously with the following pitch?

Meyer: I have this random character who is so obscure and receives so little airtime that if you've only read the original novel once you won't even remember her.  But I'd really like to tell her story.

Publisher: Oh, so you'd like to finish her story for all the fanatic readers who obsess over every little character and wonder what happened next?

Meyer: Well, no.  Because I killed her off at the end of the few pages that she appears in.  So there is no "next." I want to tell her story that led up to her death.

Publisher: You mean, give her personal history so that we understand better how she came to make the choices that led to her tragic end?

Meyer: Sort of.  Actually, I don't care about her personal history that much.  Mostly I'm just going to focus on the couple of days leading up to the death scene.  You know, the scene that readers are already familiar with so they know it won't end well for this character.  And I'll be sure and introduce a lot of new characters too so that the reader is even less invested in what's going on.

Publisher: I see.  And you really think that people are going to buy this novel?

Meyer: Well, it's not a novel exactly.  Really, it's just a teeny little indulgence.  I could easily just publish it online as a treat to my die-hard fans, but why not try to make a few bucks by piggy-backing onto the success of my previous series?  Go with the black, red, and white color scheme and you've pretty much covered my kids' college tuition right there!

Any other author wouldn't be taken seriously, let alone granted a nice hardbound publication of their little pet project.  But any other author wouldn't be Stephenie Meyer, with printing houses falling all over themselves to publish her next work, even if it's just last week's grocery list.  That's not to say that I didn't enjoy reading The Short Second Life of Bree Tanner.  It was short and fast-paced and I can think of worse ways to spend an afternoon.  But I'm afraid Meyer's fame has made her lazy and as long as it's so easy to coast on her previous success, she doesn't have any reason to work at developing her potential as a writer.  (Potential which, while it exists, is still very rough.)

But back to Bree.  We first meet Bree Tanner at the end of Eclipse after the fight between the Cullens and Victoria's army.  Bree is a newborn vampire who apparently doesn't want to fight and surrenders to Carlisle.  But when the Volturi come on the scene, they don't honor the surrender and she is quickly disposed of.  The Short Second Life of Bree Tanner shows us her life in the few days preceding the battle.  We see what it's like to be a newborn vampire and her chaotic and fearful life in the growing army, including more gore than we get in the other books.  And then we see the battle play out from her perspective, offering additional insights into the scene we first saw in Eclipse.  But, you know, it ends the same way.

Because of the brevity and knowing the ending in advance, it was hard to feel very invested in Bree or any of the other characters.  It was interesting to see her as a newborn because I felt like Meyer really shied away from that when Bella became a vampire.  But it was interesting from a "gee whiz" standpoint, not because it really added anything.  And it was kind of hard to feel attached to a character who kills innocent victims and drinks their blood.  Okay, but here's a funny thing.  In all the original novels Edward is referred to as having this unusual bronze-colored hair.  That's one of his defining features, right?  So when Bree starts talking about this redhead at the end, at first I didn't know who she was talking about.  And when I realized it was Edward, I wanted to laugh.  Doesn't Stephenie Meyer know that redheaded males are considered the least attractive people in just about every culture?  Shouldn't she know better than to downgrade her leading man's status like that?  So that was confusing and distracting and just a little bit weird.  I'm really not sure what that was all about.

But there you go.  Another vampire tale, and quite frankly, I'm hoping that she'll try her hand at something else for a while.  No harm in that since we know the publishers will be lining up to print whatever she wants!

The Lightning Thief

I have heard from a lot of people who enjoyed Rick Riordan's book The Lightning Thief, so I was interested when our book group picked it for this month's read.  Getting through the wait list was quite the ordeal, but that's usually a good sign, right?  I knew very little about the story going into it, except that it was "like Harry Potter," and involved kids who were the half-mortal offspring of Greek mythical gods.  I'm always dubious when something is marketed as being "like" another huge success, but after reading it I can see both why it would be called that, and also how that's not really a fair description.

Percy (short for Perseus) Jackson is a troubled teen being raised by an angelic mother and repulsive stepfather in New York City.  His academic and behavioral problems mean he has bounced around from school to school, and when the story opens he is finishing out his sixth grade at a boarding school for juvenile delinquents.  Bizarre experiences have happened to him over the years, but nothing quite as strange as during the opening chapter when his math teacher turns into a freakish creature and tries to destroy him while on a school field trip.

After school lets out, Percy continues to be pursued by dark forces until his mom sends him to a special summer camp that his absent and mysterious father had always wanted him to attend.  Eventually he discovers that his father is none other than Poseidon, who together with Zeus and Hades constitute the Big Three.  But the Big Three had made a pact following WWII not to have anymore mortal affairs (because it was their offspring who were responsible for the war), so Percy isn't even supposed to exist and is already in mortal danger just for being born.  Then add to that the fact that Zeus's master thunderbolt was stolen right around the same time Percy's existence comes out and he is immediately suspected.  The only way for him to clear his name and prevent a catastrophic world war is to find the lightning bolt and return it to Zeus.  Thus starts a quest that takes him across the country, into the bowels of the Underworld, and to the heights of Mt. Olympus.  Like any true heroic quest, he fights mythical monsters and other sinister traps, learning lessons about courage, friendship, and his own worth along the way.

The parallels to Harry Potter are pretty obvious.  Adolescent boy (not quite an orphan in Percy's case, but close) who struggles to fit in discovers that he possesses special powers and belongs in a secret world that co-exists with the known world but the majority of humanity is blithely unaware of it.  Some of the things that make the story so delightful were similar attractions in Harry Potter.  The juxtaposition of the mythical and the contemporary were refreshingly creative, and the whole thing was infused with a light-hearted humor that made it a fun romp.  Riordan's writing isn't as well-crafted as Rowling's, the plot twists were more predictable, and there wasn't the greater underlying depth that made Harry Potter so much more than just a fun story.  But I've also only just read the first in the series so I can't say how those things may change over time.  Beyond that, though, I hesitate to draw more parallels with Harry Potter because I think Riordan's work can and should be allowed to stand on its own.  He definitely had command over the story and action and there was no sense that he was just trying to milk another Harry Potter success.

Some of the things I liked most about The Lightning Thief were, as I said before, how he meshes the mythical world with the "real" world in ways that are cleverly convincing.  (For instance, demi-god children are prone to dyslexia and ADHD because their brains are hard-wired to read ancient Greek, not modern English, and their natural battle reflexes make it difficult to sit still in a formal classroom.)  Another plus -- I have always enjoyed studying mythology, and it was fun to dust off some of the cobwebs in my memory to appreciate how Riordan was bringing it to life.  I also enjoyed the first person narrative.  It was very direct and funny, but without resorting to immature humor or adolescent stereotypes to convince us it was a 12-year-old talking.  Just as an example of the strong narrative voice, some of the chapter titles are, "I Become Supreme Lord of the Bathroom," "A God Buys Us Cheeseburgers," and my personal favorite, "Three Old Ladies Knit the Socks of Death." One thing Riordan did very well was keeping up a fast page-turning pace.  The story is full of action that drives the narrative forward and I finished it the same day I started it.  I just couldn't help it!  When you're having that much fun, why stop?

The Maze Runner

I'm so behind in blog posts that I'm tempted to just sum this up by saying, if you like The Hunger Games series, you'll like The Maze Runner. It feels lazy to only write that much, so I'll elaborate some more. The Maze Runner by James Dashner takes place in a dystopian future, but we are given so few details about it that the mystery is slowly revealed by the bare facts Dashner doles out bit by bit. Don't dystopian young adult novels feel like they're all the rage lately? It seems like I've read piles of them lately and but thankfully this one delivers on several accounts.

Thomas wakes up in a metal box, confused and without memories of how he got there or anything about his life, other than his name. When he comes out, he is greeted by a group of teenage boys living in a communal farm, surrounded by giant stone walls covered in ivy. Yup, you guessed it. It's a maze. Every day at dawn, the doors of the maze open and runners take off to find an escape to the maze. They have to return by sundown before the doors close or they take the risk of being killed by the Grievers, monstrous machines programmed to kill. If a runner is merely stung by a Griever, he goes through a horrific change that brings back sporadic memories of life before the maze. Those memories don't seem to be all that pleasant.

I like alternate futures and puzzles like what are depicted in this book, but a few things bugged me. The boys have their own slang and profanity, that while the words are innocent in themselves, are used so frequently and substituted so obviously for familiar swear words that they become just as offensive. It bugged me that Dashner used that tactic and then proceeded to beat the reader over the head with it. It bugged me that it was assumed that all teenage boys would have giant potty mouths. I was never a teenage boy, so maybe that's the norm, but it bugged me.

Complaints aside, this was a cool book.  The mysteries are slowly revealed, but not so slowly and teasingly that I got annoyed.  I reached a point in the book when I realized that this is the first in a series, which annoys me, but what isn't a series any more?  I throw my hands up.  I'll read the next books, I'm sure.  Like I said in the first sentence, if you liked The Hunger Games, then this is a book for you.  If not, I've got a whole stack of books waiting to be blogged about in the next week or two and surely one of those will interest you.  I aim to please, after all. 

Finishing Lois Lowry's trio

I reread Lois Lowry's The Giver a year or so ago and was once again impressed by the hauntingly enigmatic ending. So I was delighted to learn that she had written two more books as companions to it. It took me a while to get around to reading them, but I finally did and am glad to have some resolution to this story.

Gathering Blue features a completely different character in an opposite setting from Jonas's world in The Giver -- though, we find out later, it takes place at the same futuristic time. Kira was born into a harsh and brutal society where any weakness or flaw is worthy of death. Kira herself was born with a lame leg, but her special gifts help her to stand out and receive an honored task in the community. At least, that's what she thinks at first. Over time she begins to uncover secrets about her community that make her realize that her honored role is really relegating her to a lifetime of imprisonment. Similar to The Giver, Lowry explores the vitality of individualism and creativity and their role in creating a healthy society. But this society's form of oppressiveness is more primitive and cruel than where Jonas grows up, and really could be read as an isolated tale.

The ending of Gathering Blue was pretty abrupt and anti-climactic, I thought. Just as Kira comes to understand what her future holds for her, she is faced with the difficult decision of either fleeing to safety or staying to try and help her society change. Her decision is an interesting next step in the conflict, but it didn't really work as an ending. Instead, I felt like it ended when it was just getting good. Another thing I wasn't a huge fan of is that Lowry could sometimes be a little over-the-top on the social commentary. But considering that's the real point of these books, I decided I could cut her some slack. It is for a young audience, after all, so I guess you can't rely too much on subtlety.

Messenger is the last book in the trio and brings the two stories together in a final conclusion. Matty, a young boy we first met in Gathering Blue, is the featured character. He is now several years older and growing into early manhood in the Village community briefly mentioned at the end of Gathering Blue. Unlike the societies portrayed in the first two books, Village is full of good people who live rich and meaningful lives due to their compassionate selflessness that contributes to an overall sense of wholeness. But selfishness and materialism are beginning to creep in and threaten to destroy the utopian society they've created. At the same time, Matty is beginning to discover a secret and fearful power he possesses and wonders what it means for his future and the future of those he loves.

The conflict in Messenger was more interesting and dynamic than that in Gathering Blue. It was also easier to get involved with the characters, especially since some of them we'd seen before in both Gathering Blue and The Giver. There were some inconsistencies in the ideology that bothered me, like the fact that people in the Village are given special life-long tasks and titles similar to what we've seen in The Giver, but supposedly it's a good thing even though there's still no sense of choice in the matter. And the ending, while more dramatic than Gathering Blue, still lacked the power of The Giver. But overall it was nice to tie up some of those loose ends and because they were both quick and easy reads, it was a few hours well spent.

Unblogged books

I admit, I like things to be tidied up. I like my loose ends tied. Here we are, nearing the end of the year and I have a handful of books I never blogged about but they won't stop nagging at me because of it. I deemed each of them unworthy and yet, here I am blogging about them. Darn those unbloggable books. You might be wondering, what makes a book unworthy of me sharing my opinion willy-nilly? Mostly it was because I couldn't think of anything spectacular to say that would either deter readers or cause them to leap from their computers and dash to the library. Those are the two reactions I prefer to instill in people. Some of these I loved and some I hated, but the most I can conjure up is about a paragraph each.

I read one book this year that I so completely disliked that I didn't even want to think about it after I read it. Usually, if I really don't like a book it's just that much more fuel for my fire. But this book was repulsive to me and I didn't want to think about it ever again after I read it. My Abandonment by Peter Rock is about a girl, Caroline, and her father who are living in a state park in Oregon, off the grid and avoiding people. Their past is mysterious and you gather that the father is a veteran with mental illness. They do get discovered and people try to help them in their situation, but everything just deteriorates more and more. It's based on a true story but the whole thing made my skin crawl. That's all I want to say about that.

Mark L. Van Name's newest installment of his books about Jon Moore and his intelligent ship Lobo is just as awesome as I thought it would be. If my blogging about the previous books haven't gotten you to pick up a copy of the first book yet, me writing yet another blog about it probably won't do the trick. Overthrowing Heaven is more action, more great sci-fi and focused much more on Lobo than Jon. Loved it.

When I was at my uncle's funeral, I met the father of an upcoming author, Aprilynne Pike. It's a long story, but I decided to read her young adult novel, Wings. It's about a girl who suddenly sprouts a blossom out of her back that resembles wings. Ends up, she's a faerie and never knew it. This story could have been very cool and original and yet, it just reads like a Twilight knock-off, love triangle and everything. Except in Wings it's the girl who's supernatural, not her love interests. Well, one of them is, but whatever. If you love Twilight, read Wings, but I can't endorse it much more than that.

Caren went to a midnight release party for The Gathering Storm by Brandon Sanderson and Robert Jordan and didn't know what the hubub was about. My husband was seething with jealousy that she went and had pre-ordered a signed copy of the book months before. Caren sent us the bumper sticker she got at the party that said, "Bela is a Darkfriend" and my husband giggled like a schoolgirl and then dashed upstairs to plaster it to his bookcase. The fact is, if you're already a fan of Robert Jordan's Wheel of Time series, you'll have read the latest installment finished by Sanderson after Jordan passed away. You don't need me telling you how awesome it is or how perfectly Sanderson accomplished the task of taking over this epic book series. You already know. And those of you who don't know probably would be hesitant to start a series that includes twelve books, one prequel and a nearly rabid fan base. I don't blame you.

I like fairy tale retellings, like Shannon Hale's The Goose Girl or Gail Carson Levine's Ella Enchanted. They're fun and interesting and flesh out a tale so creatively that it gives it new life. Princess of the Midnight Ball by Jessica Day George falls directly into that category and the caliber of Hale or Levine. George retells the tale of the twelve dancing princesses, which was one my favorite stories growing up. It was riveting and exciting and very well done. I read it, then passed it on to both my eight- and six-year-old daughters who both adored it. I would gander that any child on a skilled enough reading level would love this book and would also be a great read-a-loud. I'm going to have to do some more reading of George's books if this is what I have to expect. Excellent stuff.

Speaking of excellent writing, I recently re-read The House of the Scorpion by Nancy Farmer. This book is a perfectly crafted dystopian future story about a tyrannical drug lord, cloning, and corrupt governments, but written for the young adult age group. Nancy Farmer has written many books but Scorpion has to be my favorite. Matteo, the clone of drug lord Matteo Alacran of the nation of Opium, a strip of land between Mexico and the U.S. is just as clever as his original version and with the help of some other clever people is able to make more of his life than as spare parts. Very cool, very exciting and some interesting deep thinking about the idea of cloning in general and the value of life.

Ahh, I'm feeling better. Now I can dive into books for the new year knowing that I tidied up my pile. Now if only I felt that way about my desk...

Benedict, Catching Fire and Alcatraz

Series books are a tricky business. The first book in a series will often feel fresh and interesting and new, but that kind of momentum is hard to maintain through the rest of the series. The typical trilogy formula has the second book in the series be the least interesting. Plot lines have to be displayed, characters have to go through conflict and those books never end happily. The second book is like a holding place for the third book, which you know will be interesting and suspenseful and, ultimately, satisfying, but you got to slug through the second book to get to the third.

I read a bundle of series installments recently and they fell differently on the scale of series success. The first was The Mysterious Benedict Society and the Prisoner's Dilemma by Trenton Lee Stewart. I've blogged about the first and second books and I stand by my opinion that these are some of the best books I've ever read. The writing is amazing and the plot lines intricate, but not so much that my eight- and six-year-old can't enjoy it. The third book has more of the adventures of Reynie, Sticky, Kate and Constance, but it takes longer to get into the meat of the book. The first part of the book spends quite some time giving you Constance's mysterious background which we've been left in the dark about so far. It was interesting and I was excited to read it, but I grew anxious about when the action would really start. When it did, it was great. This book had more closure than any of the others, which is saying something since I was convinced the first book was the only one. Stewart doesn't leave you hanging at the end of each book which makes it easier to wait for the next one. I'm almost positive this is the last book of that series that Stewart will do, but I would love for him to create another universe for us readers to enjoy.

Next, I read Catching Fire by Suzanne Collins, the second book after The Hunger Games. I thought that The Hunger Games was fascinating and a great read, but I was disappointed in Catching Fire. It seemed to suffer from second book-itis. Katniss, our heroine, spins her wheels in her hometown, trying to rebel, dealing with her love triangle, waiting for doom to descend--which it does, of course--and the reader has to wait for the action to start. It does start, but only long enough to lead us into a cliffhanger. This book is an example of the frustration of middle books in a series. That said, it's still exciting and the series as a whole will probably be awesome. If I could go back in time and tell myself to wait for all three books to come out, that's what I would do. I would never listen to such advice, but I'd try anyway.

Lastly, I read Alcatraz and the Knights of Crystallia by Brandon Sanderson. It still has snarky, nonsense-filled narration and action-packed chapters, but it lacked something that I'm going to blame on being the middle book of a series. It's the third installment out of what I suspect will be five books, so it's definitely the middle and lacks some of the momentum and excitement of the first two books. You get a peek into the Freelands of this imaginary world and has some fun moments with the villainous Librarians, but it just wasn't as much fun as the first two. Like Catching Fire, the series as a whole will be great, but we have to wait for it all to come together in the mean time. Not good for instant gratification.

While I'm thinking about it, I would qualify each of these series like this:

• Mysterious Benedict Society: good for any age either as a read-aloud or for an independent reader with high enough reading skills.
• Hunger Games/Catching Fire: definitely middle school and up. Lots of kissing and teen angst along with a smattering of substance abuse. Oh, and people killing each other in brutal, but not R-rated ways.
• Alcatraz: I let my eight-year-old read it, but it has potty humor and some crass words like butt and fart. Nothing over the top, but enough to make me roll my eyes.

My husband and I were just chatting about what makes middle books of series good and we've come to the conclusion that it has to do with the intent of the author. Did they intend for it to be something broken into segments, hinged with cliffhangers and unfinished stories or rather independent stories that are all linked? I wish I could get a heads-up when it's the first type of story so I could be mentally prepared to be unsatisfied. Ah well, I'll still read them and still grump about them and probably still enjoy them.

The Disreputable History of Frankie Landau-Banks

Probably the most powerless-feeling person on the earth is a fifteen-year-old girl. Being a teenager makes one rife full of righteous outrage anyway, but I remember feeling like I had no control over my life. I was at the mercy of the decisions of adults. Well, duh, it's supposed to be like that. If teenagers were allowed to completely rule their own lives, most of us wouldn't survive to adulthood. I have the wisdom of being far from adolescence now, but it wasn't so long ago I can't remember how it felt. I can now look back with scorn at my so-called fury over injustice and agony over being completely misunderstood. Man, you couldn't pay me enough to go back to it.

Unfortunately, The Disreputable History of Frankie Landau-Banks by E. Lockhart took me back to the thankfully never-to-be-repeated fifteenth year of my life. Well, sorta. I was never wealthy or went to an exclusive boarding school in New Hampshire or had a boyfriend who was the most popular guy at school or was consumed by the fact that he belonged to an ultra-secret boys club that he refused to tell me about. But I did feel powerless and frustrated by the perceptions all my peers had of me, that I couldn't seem to break out of a mold formed when I was so much younger and continued by people who didn't know me as anything different. I could relate to all that.

Frankie cannot stand the fact that her boyfriend is involved in this club that, she eventually discovers, goes back to the 1950s. When she does uncover more information about The Loyal Order of the Bassett Hounds, she decidees to use what she knows to control the guys involved. As the narrator explains, Frankie could someday use her talents for good, becoming the CEO of a large company or striving for finding peace between warring nations. Or she could become a crime boss to rival all others. She has the potential for both.

It becomes quickly evident that Frankie is smart, ruthless and a bit obsessive. If I was her mom, I'd have a royal freak-out when I found out what she was up to, but you have to admire her talent. She directs a gang of teenage boys to carry out pranks the likes of are impressive on any scale, and pins all the blame on her nemesis, who pretends to have done it all to get the credit. That, of course, comes back to bite him, which was Frankie's plan all along. All because her boyfriend thinks she's harmless and her family's nickname for her is Bunny Rabbit. Way to prove them wrong, kiddo!

Even though I read this through the eyes of an adult instead of a jaded teenager, I thoroughly enjoyed reading it. Frankie is awesome and awe-worthy in her mischief and you can't help but admire her. Every bit of it was enjoyable and I felt a bit jealous that she got to work out her teen angst in such a creative way. It's a whole lot cooler than wearing alot of black and listening to music that drove my mom up the wall, just as an example that I may or may not know about.

The Hunger Games

For those you who read Uglies by Scott Westerfeld or The Road by Cormac McCarthy or I Am Legend by Richard Matheson and enjoy good post-apocalyptic fiction can add The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins to your to-read list. Unlike Uglies, it doesn't have a morality lesson to teach. Unlike The Road, it isn't depicting the most depraved aspects of humanity and yet makes you unable to tear your eyes away. Unlike I Am Legend, it doesn't have any vampires. In fact, there's nothing supernatural about the book, just really advanced technology and some seriously sick people who like to watch human suffering for mass entertainment.

In The Hunger Games, once again we are in a post-war United States, now called Panem, run by a corrupt and cruel government based in the Rocky Mountains. The remaining country that hasn't been destroyed by the war is divided into twelve districts. Each district has a main focus of industry. There used to be thirteen districts, but the thirteenth one was annihilated after it attempted to revolt against the government. Now the government holds the Hunger Games every year as a reminder that they are all powerful and the people are utterly and powerlessly under its control.

A lottery is held each year in each district to select one boy and one girl between the ages of twelve and eighteen to participate in the games. They are shipped off the the capitol to garner a fan base and find sponsors to help them along their way during the games. And what are the games, you ask? A fight to the death. The winner gets fame, glory and unlimited food for them and their families for the rest of their lives. Our hero, Katniss Everdeen, is selected as one of the tributes--as they are called--along with a boy from her village in District 12. She has spent her life illegally hunting and gathering food for her family to keep them from starving, so she has many skills that will help her during the game. She is distrustful of everybody so any kind gesture made by Peeta, the boy who came with her, is seen by her as manipulation to win the game. She has a soft spot for her little sister, Prim, whose place she took as a tribute, but not for many others.

Imagine Survivor or Big Brother or any of those mind-numbingly stupid "reality" shows and then change it so that everybody is supposed to kill each other off. The entire nation watches as Katniss and the other tributes fight and plot and form alliances. This form of repression by the government is masked as entertainment. It's disturbing, but since it's geared towards Young Adult readers, not graphic. It was an incredibly suspenseful book and I kept flipping pages in anticipation of what could possibly happen next. My only complaint is that it's the first book in a series when I thought it was a stand-alone novel and according to my searches, the second book doesn't come out until September 1st. That just makes me crabby. If I'm going to start a series, I want to be able to move from one book to the next, without having to set some sort of reminder for myself to remember to look for the second book when it comes out. I'm totally going to do it, but it makes me grouchy like an old man.

As another endorsement for this book, it won a Cybil award last year for the best Fantasy and Science Fiction novel. These awards are given by bloggers who read children and young adult books either as parents, librarians, authors, teachers or others. If you don't care about awards, it's still a good read. Put your mind in the world disaster/post-apocalyptic zone and take it for a spin.

End of the year clean-up

To get a fresh start on 2009, I've decided to lump together all the books I haven't bother to blog about thus far and didn't have enough to say about individually to warrant the effort of writing a post. In other words, I'm cleaning out my blog closet.

My friend, Libby, recommended this post-apocalyptic world/morality tale to me and I was happy to find that it wasn't heavy-handed or tedious. When I have a feeling that a story has A Message, I get bored of it. Uglies by Scott Westerfeld is about a society of people that have massive plastic and reconstructive surgery at the age of sixteen to make them Pretty. They are born with the normal features of humans, but by the time they have the surgery, they are stunningly gorgeous, outside the normal range of beauty. Tally is anxious to have her surgery done, until she meets Shay, who wants to escape out of the city and join The Smoke, a society that survives outside of the authorities control and remain un-Prettied. The story is suspenseful and exciting, examines our preceptions of beauty and questions the government's control over our lives. Loved it and can't wait to read the next one.

For a book about family tragedy, foster care and busybody adults who ruin children's lives, this is an incredibly funny book. Polly Horvath has a way with words that I thoroughly enjoyed in Everything on a Waffle and her character, Primrose Squarp, was a delight to read about. Primrose narrates and shares recipes, explaining her undying certainty that her parents are not dead, but merely marooned on an island somewhere, despite every single adult she knows telling her otherwise. It takes place in New England and her town has a collection of quirky characters who help and hinder her along her way. Thoroughly enjoyable read for the 8-12 age group.

Lemony Snicket is still writing, apparently and The Lump of Coal is his latest brief story of a walking and talking lump of coal who is trying to find his purpose. It was a strangely poignant and tender story about miracles, despite Snicket's normal gloomy outlook. I was touched by the ending:

It is a miracle if you can find true friends, and it is a miracle if you have enough food to eat, and it is a miracle if you get to spend your days and evenings doing whatever it is you like to do, and the holiday season like all the other seasons is a good time not only to tell stories of miracles, but to think about the miracles in your own life, and to be grateful for them, and that’s the end of this particular story.

Worth the five minute read that it was and since he got Brett Helquist to illustrate it, doubly worth the look-over.

My seven-year-old daughter is absolutely in love with Jenny Nimmo's Charlie Bone books and once my husband started requesting me to get him the books on CD from the library, I figured it was time to see what the fuss was about. The first book is Midnight for Charlie Bone and I devoured it. It fills a nice little spot in my Harry Potter-loving heart and with eight books out there so far, it'll be some fun reading for a while. Jenny Nimmo has her own way of writing that differs greatly from J.K. Rowling's, but you can't help but compare Charlie to Harry. Very different tune, but it strums the same strings. Charlie finds out that his is endowed with the ability to hear what the people in pictures are saying or thinking and is shipped off to a special school for children with these kinds of abilities. He starts to unravel all sorts of mysteries about his family and the founder of the school. It's a great book for any age of readers who loved Harry Potter.

Speaking of Harry, I scooped up a copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard at the library the other 141day. It's said to be translated by Hermione Granger from the original runes, with commentary by Albus Dumbledore and J.K. Rowling. The tales are meant to be children's stories for wizard families, like Goldilocks and the Three Bears is for Muggle families. It was fun to read the tales that Rowling, er, I mean Beedle, based so much of the last Harry Potter book on. Even more fun was Dumbledore's commentary and explanations, which were done in his signature way. Makes me consider telling those stories to my children in addition to the normal Cinderella, Three Little Pigs, etc. that Muggle children know so well.

Ahh, I feel so much better getting those out of the way. Now, I think I will get out of my jammies and get some reading done. There's a whole year of reading ahead of me!

The True Meaning of Smekday and The Willoughbys

Leftover from my pre-Thanksgiving high stress-level days, I have two more books from the Young Adult and Junior book bin. These books were ones I had really looked forward to reading because the premises for both appealed to me, but are polar opposites from each other. Lois Lowry, prolific author over many decades of award-winning writing wrote The Willoughbys and Adam Rex, writer of such bizarre books like Frankenstein Makes a Sandwich and Frankenstein Takes the Cake, wrote The True Meaning of Smekday. Lowry is a standard in the world of children's and young adult novels. Who hasn't read The Giver? Adam Rex is, frankly, weird and has a crazy sense of humor, which you'll notice if you ever read the poetry in his Frankenstein books. The poems are about monsters from the old monster movies many a decade ago. You know, Dracula, The Creature from the Black Lagoon, The Mummy, all the gang. I thoroughly enjoy the poems because I've watched so many of those movies and had a bit of a fascination with the monsters when I was young, but my children were baffled and unamused by them. Even though I liked the Frankenstein books, I thought The True Meaning of Smekday was far and above better than anything Rex had done previously. I loved both of these books, but let's start with Rex's.

The True Meaning of Smekday is about the end of the world as we know it and the apocolypse couldn't be any funnier. The narrator is 11-year-old Gratuity Tucci, whose mother was abducted by aliens mere moments before the aliens arrived and took over the world. The Boov are octopus-like creatures who good-naturedly have the entire population of the United States relocate to Florida. Until they realize how much they like oranges and send everybody to Arizona instead. Gratuity befriends one of the aliens, who calls himself J.Lo, and travels in a Boov-sooped-up car across the country to try and find her mom in Arizona. In the meantime, you find out that J.Lo is wanted by his people because of a small mistake he made that brought to Earth another race of aliens called The Takers who are not as good-natured as the Boov. This book made me laugh over and over again. Gratuity (called Tip by her friends) is funny, witty, sometimes a weensy bit crass, and very inventive. J.Lo becomes more and more human as the book progresses and by the end you can't help but love him. It is the perfect book to read this month, but I won't tell you why. I'll just remind you that Smekday is fast approaching. Go check out the website for the book and come back and tell me you didn't laugh when you watched the educational puppet show video.

The Willoughbys is a parody of every book about a winsome and lovable orphan that pulls themselves up by their bootstraps and charms everyone's heart. In fact, the literary references are spattered all over the place and there's a list of books referred to at the end. The Willoughby children, Tim, twins Barnaby A and Barnaby B, and Jane are disliked by their parents and the feeling is mutual. Mr. and Mrs. Willoughby decide to go on vacation and sell the house while they're gone, getting rid of the children in the process. The children are more than happy about that arrangement and find that the nanny hired to care for them is a good substitution. There's also a depressed billionaire who comes into the story, a tiny village in the Alps and a little boy who pretends to speak German. For example, he greets the postman with "Helloschlimhofen, neisch day, isn't itzenschlitz?" He too is despised by his parents and crosses paths with the Willoughbys. I laughed out loud over and over again while reading this book and half of those laughs were in the glossary at the end. Lowry uses words like acquisition, diabolical, ignominious, and obfuscate in the book and then explains what they mean, in her own words, in the glossary. I was wiping the tears of laughter away at that point. After reading this book, I wondered how long Lowry has wanted to mock the likes of Anne of Green Gables, Pollyanna and Heidi. I'm sure glad she did.

Believe it or not, but my December is looking much less crazy than my November was, so I'm looking forward to diving into some great reading. If it will be anything like Smekday and The Willoughbys, it will be a jolly holiday indeed.

Generation Dead, Gifts, and The Adoration of Jenna Fox

I tend to go through book phases where I read the same genre of book over and over again. It's like I get an itch that needs scratching and the only thing that will do is to overdose on it. Sometimes I'll go through murder mystery phases that will last for years, but thanks to this blog, I have more motivation to pull out of my zone and try something different. For a little while there, it was sci-fi/fantasy geared towards teenagers. What's sad is that I'm such a slacker about reading these days is that I read the following books weeks and even months ago and I'm just getting around to writing about them. Also because I haven't cracked a book open in a month. A month! My brain is atrophying! Lest I forget even more plot details, I better get writing.

I don't know about you but I love a good zombie story. "Generation Dead" by Dan Waters takes the idea that for no apparent reason, teenagers all over the country are coming back from the dead. It's only teenagers and it's always within a few hours of death. Some of these "living impaired" kids are almost as functional as when they were alive while others just shuffle around and moan. But none appear to have the need to eat human brains (darn) or other scary stuff from the movies. There are theories about why it's happening. Maybe all the preservatives in food? Chemicals in the water? The story follows Phoebe, a Goth girl who is fascinated by the zombies and in particular, a boy named Tommy. Her friends Margi and Adam (who also has a secret crush on Phoebe), are baffled by her interest, but get involved with Phoebe in a club that promotes understanding and awareness for the undead.

What I found interesting was the parallels between this situation and the civil rights movement in the 60s. The zombies are hated, reviled, abused, set on fire, beaten with baseball bats, and feared by the general public. Very few people want to give them any rights and oftentimes, their families will have nothing to do with them after they come back from the dead. The zombies stick together and while some of them want progress to be made peacefully, there are others who think they need to resort to violence. The age group this book is geared towards is a generation who has never really experienced such potent prejudice. Heck, neither have I! It's no longer socially acceptable to hate and shun. Well, openly at least. This is a pretty good allegory to situations that have existed and raise questions that maybe a 15-year-old today have never had to think about. My only beef was the ending and after grumbling for a few days, I read somewhere that it was setting things up for a sequel. That made more sense, but now I have to wait around for Waters to write a second one, which just makes me grumpy.

With "Gifts" by Ursula K. LeGuin, I was having major deja-biblio-vu. You know, where you have the sneaking suspicion that you've read a book before, that you might already know the ending, but you don't want to skip ahead and check in case you haven't? Well, yeah, I had read this one before, but it was worth a second read. This book is more in the 10-12 year-old range of readers, with lighter ideas and a bit easier language. This is pure fantasy, a story of a race of people who live in the mountains and have terrible gifts, like being able to call animals from the wild in order to be slaughtered, or twisting people's limbs with a thought, or erasing memories, or destroying with a word. Orrec is a young man who refuses to use his gift of "unmaking" and upsets the basic tenets of their society. His friend, Gry, is a gentler spirit as well and joins him in refusing to use her gift for killing animals. Because they are disturbing the balance, conflicts arise and Orrec has to find a way to protect his clan. Riveting good stuff and a very satisfying ending.

"The Adoration of Jenna Fox" by Mary Pearson is my favorite book of late and I probably could have done a whole post on it alone. I like good science fiction and this was very good indeed. Jenna Fox wakes up from a coma after two years and finds out that she had an accident and also can't seem to remember anything that happened before waking up. Also, she doesn't have any pictures of herself or anybody else and not even so much as a get well card. Oh, and by the way, they moved across the country while she was in a coma. Huh? That's what she thinks too. And she has these strange compelling needs to do certain things. And her parents are kind of fuzzy on details. And have I mentioned that her grandmother hates her and won't stay in the same room as her? Sounds like an episode of "Lost", I know. It was an awesome book. Made me wonder, as a parent, what I would do to save my child. Hmm, insert thoughtful nod of my head here.

Did you notice that all three books have very cool covers? I showed the whole cover for "Generation Dead" because I think it looks rad. Ahh, feels good to have that post out of the way. Now, if I could just find something to read.