Fiction | Life Turned Upside-Down

We all have those movies or TV shows we love to watch because they're easy entertainment—relaxing, mindless, superficial drama that we get sucked into for however long and forget about immediately after. These "guilty pleasures" aren't things we go around sharing details about [Do I really want to brag about a 3-hour Top Model binge?], but it is culture to consume, and it is enjoyable!

I find it hard to have the same "guilty pleasure" connection to books, because I view any reading as good reading! And maybe it's something about the effort that goes into creating the product—even the most formulaic of novels has taken hours for an author to craft, with re-reads, edits, and re-writes. There's a purposeful effort behind it, more than just pointing a camera to see what happens.

So when I came to the "guilty pleasure" category of the Read Harder Challenge, I had to just pick something more entertaining than literary, something I read for fun rather than enlightenment. Ergo, I chose a Sarah Dessen novel I hadn't yet read, Just Listen.

In it, Annabel is beginning her junior year, but it's off to a rough start. Her ex-best friend Sophie will no longer speak to her—she's a social outcast now; and at home, Annabel is afraid of breaking her mother's heart by quitting her modeling career, and her older sister is struggling with anorexia, no doubt brought on by her own modeling career. We, the reader, discover that Annabel can trace all her bad juju to one night at the end of last school year. It was the night her life took a one-eighty and Sophie became her bully instead of her friend.

Annabel's only school savior is Owen, a boy she certainly would've never noticed before. He's tall, dark, and mysterious. He has a bad-boy reputation. Mostly he's just a music-obsessed outsider that doesn't care a thing about high school politics. Their burgeoning friendship gives Annabel the confidence to confront the issues that plague her and make peace with the events and people that turned her life around.

Dessen's books are wonderful—maybe one could say in that "guilty pleasure" way—because they're too serious to be fluff but too lighthearted to be heavy. They feature the everyday, realistic issues that teen girls face, and though each situation is entirely unique (as is every teenage girl), the resulting emotions are universal. Just Listen is actually probably the heaviest of Dessen's I've read, dealing with issues like sexual assault and slut shaming, though in a quieter, less upfront way than other teen novels covering the same topics. In my opinion, these are issues important for middle schoolers to read about, because they do, unfortunately, exist in their worlds. This book is a good entry into heavier talking points.

Fiction | Celebrating Truth in a World of Lies

It would've been easy to count any one of my random reads as the YA title in the Read Harder Challenge. I'm constantly reading books from my school library, after all. I decided to be purposeful with this choice, though, so I depended on my Goodreads "want to read" queue to provide a YA book I had probably long forgotten I wanted to read.

The one I settled upon was The Truth Commission by Susan Juby. It's organized as a book within a book (so meta)--the final Spring Special Project authored by 11th grader Normandy Pale. In this project, she relays the stories surrounding the formation of the Truth Commission, an informal group begun by Normandy and her two best friends that seeks truths from their peers.

But before I jump into that part of the story, let me give you the background...

Normandy attends Green Pastures Academy of Art and Applied Design, a total hippie art school where students are encouraged to find their voice and express them as loudly as possible. Normandy is actually one of the quieter, less showy students there; she's exploring writing as her avenue of focus, as demonstrated by this final project of narrative nonfiction. She's also used to being secondary to her sister, the legendary Kiera Pale, a best-selling graphic novelist whose familial inspiration unfortunately doesn't portray Normandy and her parents in the best light.

So Normandy is used to the background, and she's created quite a nice little world for herself with her best friends Neil and Dusk. But one random conversation starts to shift Normandy's world off-kilter. When Neil breaks the unwritten code against directness and asks a fellow student about her very obvious plastic surgery (and it's not a totally offensive disaster), the Truth Commission is born with the mission to discourage hearsay and celebrate the beauty of openness. Normandy, though, is more hesitant to jump into the truth than her friends, especially when her truth mission involves a very touchy target—the infamous Kiera herself, who has suddenly returned home from college, seemingly traumatized by some unknown incident.

This was a really odd book. I think most readers will have strong reactions to it, one way or another, and I can't say mine was totally positive. Often, if I have a negative reaction to a book, it's the characters that prevented my enjoyment. This time, it was the less common opposite—I didn't mind the main character so much; I just found the story to be lacking. And not even the story itself, because I like this premise of a "truth commission." Maybe there were too many other small factors that bothered me. Like Normandy's sister who, with her whole ridiculous story is a total UGH, like one of those terrible people you know must exist in the world but is so absurd she seems unbelievable. And her parents who are total doormats. And also the fact that the ENTIRE BOOK is littered with FOOTNOTES, which is basically the most annoying text feature ever, especially when coming from the brain of a 16ish-year-old AND when you're reading it on a Kindle and have to click back and forth and back and forth.

I don't know. I think my adulthood cynicism comes out most often with YA books. Some I love, some I hate, and I think my more negative reactions usually stem from kitschy teen tropes that I know aren't geared towards my 30-year-old self anyways but that I can't get past because I hate teens being defined and pigeonholed any certain way in the first place.

I didn't mean for this to be a whole diatribe of negativity, because really this book isn't bad, and though YA is a genre, really it's just a target demographic, and there are—and should be!—as many different styles and voices for this audience as for any other. So maybe I should just end my commentary here with a 100% personal opinion-based verdict of "good concept, didn't like the execution." But by all means, give it a try—it's got some rave reviews on Goodreads!

Fiction | This Ain't Hollywood

I picked up this next book based totally on judgment of its cover. Its retro setting and road-trip adventure plot didn't hurt, either; nor did the mission of its indie publisher. To All My Fans, With Love, From Sylvie by Ellen Conford was originally published in 1982 and has recently been re-released by Lizzie Skurnick Books, an imprint of Ig Publishing, dedicated to bringing new life to YA classics from decades past. [This is my Read Harder "indie press" category choice.]

So, I've been wanting to read this one ever since I first set eyes on this gorgeous imprint. [Its titles follow the same beautiful, retro design scheme; the type looks good; the pages feel good.] But because it's such an old book and new reprinting, NO ONE HAS IT! No public library, no school library... Finally, I bought a copy for my own school library, along with many others in the imprint, just so I could read it!

Conrad tells the story of a 15-year-old girl named Sylvie who has spent her young life hopping from one foster home to the next. She's had neither a stable or safe upbringing; her moves tend to be the result of some purposeful misbehavior, Sylvie's own found defense mechanism against creepy foster dads with wandering eyes and hands. Her only comfort is the escape to Hollywood she's been planning for the past three years. If Sylvie dresses up with the right makeup, hair, and shoes, she can pass for 18, and that's what she's counting on to get her across the country to begin her new life as a star.

After a series of unfortunate events (aka, all her money gets stolen), Sylvie finds herself stranded in middle American and dependent on a ride from a Bible salesman named Walter to take her the rest of the way. Obviously, her decisions are misguided here. Walter is fairly young and pretty charming, but he's definitely got that smarmy quality. Knowing Sylvie's past encounters with untrustworthy men, it seems somewhat surprising she'd agree to hitch a ride with this shady dude, but maybe she just figures she can handle whatever is thrown at her. Regardless of her reasons, the result is a cringe-inducing journey across the country where all we can do is sit back and hope she survives the trip.

I have to say that this daunting plot with a seedy under-belly isn't exactly what I expected for this story. It's more like an after-school special in book form. To All My Fans broaches issues like molestation and sexual assault in a way that introduces a great distrust of adults who are in positions of supposed trustworthiness. For a brief moment, I questioned whether this was "middle school appropriate" for my library, but then I decided that "middle school" doesn't need to mean watered down. This book is by no means overly graphic, nor would I consider any of the content "too mature" for kids in this age group. In fact, there are probably middle schoolers who deal with some of these issues and need to encounter stories and characters that mirror their own lives.

The story doesn't end with a big climactic situation or confrontation; rather, it peters out by bringing this plot-driven adventure back around to the main character, ending with a "checking in" (for lack of a better phrase) with Sylvie—what she's thinking and feeling, where's she's going from here. Readers looking for a simple thriller or adventure story may be disappointed, but there are substantial talking points raised for discussion.

Reading Roundup: YA Edition

The Clockwork Scarab by Colleen Gleason is the first in the Stoker & Holmes mystery series—a genre I constantly try to refresh in my library! Evaline Stoker and Mina Holmes carry famous names, and being sister to the famous Bram Stoker and niece to the infamous Sherlock Holmes often puts them in rather bizarre situations. When two high society girls go missing, Evaline and Mina find themselves entangled in the investigation. Total opposites at the core (Mina's the brain, Evaline the brawn), the two must work together, despite their differences, as they've been tasked with this case that may end up being their downfall.

The setup for this story is great. You've got two well-known literary figures, and the author took a creative turn with a pop culture establishment. Further, it's not just your basic Victorian mystery; it's Victorian steampunk, with a hint of mysticism. The execution, though, wasn't as strong. Our main characters are quickly defined, but there is little further development. The plot is so-so with an unnecessary romance that is forced from the very beginning. These "heroines" exhibit their flaws—I'll pass it off as inexperience in this, their first adventure together—but I would like to have seen more growth and empowerment as young women in these roles. Perhaps that will happen in future titles. Definite potential.

Isabel's War by Lila Perl is historical fiction set in New York during World War II. Isabel is a Jewish girl living in the Bronx that loves French class and is more focused on boys and clothes than the war happening across the ocean. Things change, though, when a friend of the family from Germany, Helga, comes to stay with Isabel's family. Just a couple years older, Helga has lived a vastly different life than Isabel's sheltered one in New York. As Isabel learns more about Helga's life as a Jew in Nazi Germany, she begins to realize that her lucky fate as a New Yorker is the only thing protecting her from the fear and hardship Helga has suffered.

Though less well-known, Isabel's War is a great novel for young readers about this era in history. Isabel is your typical self-centered preteen, in the way natural to all young'uns who lack an awareness and understanding of events and lives outside of theirs. This perspective of hers is an important one for readers to know, and the book does a good job of establishing the significance of the war even though it felt distant to a person in Isabel's position. Hopefully, by the end, the reader will grow awareness, as Isabel did. The story itself also had enough of a "mystery" to keep the reader wanting to know more about Helga and her past. A fast read, but a pretty good one.

Sophie Kinsella's YA debut, Finding Audrey, tells the story of 14-year-old Audrey who's used to living her life in fear. It stems from a bullying-related incident at school (one about which we never actually get all the details), and she's been pretty much debilitated by a severe anxiety disorder ever since. I'm talking pulled out of school, unable to go outside, forever hiding behind a pair of over-sized sunglasses. She's been working with a therapist named Dr. Sarah, making the "two steps forward-one step back" kind of progress, and her family has been super supportive—when mom, dad, and brother aren't embattled in their never-ending duel of short tempers and snark, that is. Amidst the sometimes-chaos at home, Audrey meets Linus, her brother's gaming partner and the first person that has some success with (inadvertently) coaxing Audrey out from behind the shades.

I think my experience with this book would've been different had I not been reading it as one of the Battle of the Books titles for my middle school students. First off, the author is British (you know her from Shopaholic), so naturally the dialogue and humor follow. My inner-city, American middle schoolers do not get the references, slang, etc. So thinking of them reading, I was kinda like, "Oof, that's lost on them." Secondly, there is language! And it's used very casually, whereas we'd definitely write referrals for kids speaking similarly! There's a very gray line of "appropriateness" for middle school libraries, and I was a little concerned "endorsing" this by way of it being an official read for an event sponsored by my district/public library.

But all of that is to say I think this is definitely a YA novel. I'm glad to read a story about a condition and experience that is common but often "taboo," for whatever reason, to discuss openly. I think it's important to address disorders, like anxiety, more often so that any stigma surrounding them, whatever "they" may be, decreases and eventually disappears. Loads of people suffer anxiety; I had my own lapse of attacks late in college. They are not fun. But reading about it definitely helped. Important book, especially for the right reader.

Love & Hate: Adverse Opinions on YA Adventures

My days and reading habits are so often filled with middle school level that it's rare I move above and beyond into the realm of YA. Recently, though, I read two more titles that I ultimately found to be similar but of which I had COMPLETELY different opinions!

I grabbed a copy of David Arnold's Mosquitoland at a local librarian event late last spring, a title I'd been eyeing from internet buzz. The cover, I think, is just phenomenal, and its discovery road-trip premise seemed promising. Mim Malone's life has recently been thrown out of whack, what with the separation of her parents and being dragged against her will to live in middle-of-nowhere Mississippi with her dad and new stepmom. Once she finds out her mom is sick back home in Ohio, Mim hops on a bus and heads north, back to her real home. Naturally, the trip doesn't go as smoothly as she plans, and quirky, dubious characters ensue.

I am going to be blunt—I really did not like this book. I found it banally, cloyingly predictable. It was like Swamplandia in YA format (which I end up disliking more as time passes), with its absurdist plot that drowns in its own assertions of self-awareness. I think I would've been okay with the general premise and characters, but the purposeful disinterest of the narrator's voice and the excessive use of Writer's Workshop metaphor had me rolling my eyes at every chapter end. I keep seeing non-fans of this book use the term "special snowflake" to describe it, and YES. Why is this such a trend in YA fiction? Look, I get everyone is unique and needs to find confidence in their own sense of self, but not every teen is such a complicated anomaly that will magically find one person who just "gets" 100% of their thoughts, feelings, and actions. Whatever happened to stories of people that deal with serious issues but not EVERY serious issue? (Seriously: divorce & remarriage, moving, substance abuse, mental illness & medication, suicide, tragic accidents, child molestation, assault, abandonment issues, AND mental handicap...ALL OF THAT IS IN THIS.) It frustrates me that these snarky attempts at mature adolescent voices are often praised for their "realism," because I think they are anything but.

On the contrary, though..

I recently hosted an 8th grade lunch time book club in my library, and we read John Green's Paper Towns. High school senior Quentin has been in love with his childhood friend and neighbor, Margo, for as long as he can remember, but they don't exactly run around in the same crowd anymore. One night, though, she climbs in through his bedroom window and enlists his help for a night of adventure to complete 11 tasks of revenge. He thinks everything will be different at school the next day, but it turns out, Margo has disappeared. With the help of his two loyal best friends, Q embarks on his own journey to find the clues he believes Margo has left behind that will lead him to her.

My 8th graders loved this book, and I have to admit that I was also completely sucked into it. There is a great mix of action and introspection here. The only other John Green book I've read up to this point was The Fault in Our Stars, which was okay but a bit sappy for my jaded tastes. Paper Towns, though, I thought possessed an important variety of perspective. High school is, obviously, complicated, and most of the drama comes from the way different people read and react to the same situation. Green reminds his readers that people are not always only what they appear on the surface; there may be another side to everyone's story and experience.

The most considerable difference between these two books is, without a doubt, the narrator's voice. Q is a Ted Mosby-esque character, and he'd probably be written off as an insufferable, whiny wimp by many a reader. Unlike Ted Mosby, though, Q is still just a kid, so we'll cut him some slack. Through his narration, we hear and feel an adolescent male's uncertain introspection, and that perspective is often lacking in any form of literature or pop culture. It's a total gender stereotype, but usually it's teen girls credited with the dramatic internal monologues. It's refreshing to hear a similar male voice, because it's does a great discredit to a whole gender (not to mention is pretty unrealistic) to believe that perspective simply doesn't exist.

The other greatest difference between the two is the ending to each, specifically how the author decided to handle this manic pixie dream girl character to which the novels' pages have been dedicated. To be slightly *spoiler-y* without giving away too much, it's the difference between a "happy" ending and a realistic one. When my 8th graders finished Paper Towns, they were, as a whole, disappointed that there was no "happily ever after." And that, I told them, is exactly why I loved it, because Green's whole point was that this fearless, eccentric, unobtainable character of Margo is entirely a persona—and what Q realizes is that, no matter the image she has cultivated or how people perceive her, she is simply, entirely, just a girl. There is validity, authenticity, celebration, even, in ordinariness and normalcy, and that is a perspective that, when done well, is rare and valuable in YA literature.

Fiction | The Many Pieces & Parts of Cameron Post

I don't know where I found the suggestion to read The Miseducation of Cameron Post as the LGBT title for my Read Harder Challenge, but emily m. danforth's debut YA novel certainly surpassed any expectations I had of it. I guess I assumed it would be just a generic YA novel, but I found it to be so much more; it immediately became my favorite read of the whole year, in fact.

The story opens in 1989 when Cameron Post is a twelve-year-old living in rural Montana. It's summer, and she's spending it, as usual, with her best friend, Irene. They spend the long, broiling hot days swimming, riding bikes, and sleeping over at each others' houses. They are your typical middle school best friend duo, joined at the hip, where the line between each others' life is blurred.

All of this we learn from Cam's recollections as she paints the picture of her life as it was on the day her parents died in a car crash. Cam struggles with the death of her parents, as any preteen would, but mostly she's grateful that her parents will now never find out that she had been kissing Irene on the day of their death.

What follows is the next five years in Cameron Post's life as she deals with both devastating loss and confusion surrounding her own sexuality. To Cam, the two are inextricably linked, and though it's only by sheer coincidence, the perceived cause and effect quietly wreak havoc on her developing belief system and identity. We follow as Cam escapes one type of debilitating emotion by careening forward into another that is precariously uncertain. Life as she knew it with her undemanding, though old-fashioned, grandmother is thrown out of balance with the arrival of her over-involved conservative aunt Ruth. In an era devoid of today's prevalent LGBT movement, in a conservative town that lacks any diversity (social or otherwise), in a household run by a born-again Christian, Cam is trapped, unsure as to whether her feelings are right or wrong.

But this isn't a story about a girl who is torn apart with a lot of introspective debate on whether what she feels is enlightenment or shame. Cam just does. She test boundaries; she follows her instincts and desires. The greater her doubt and uncertainty weigh, the more reckless her behavior becomes until eventually, predictably, it all comes crashing down. At the behest of Aunt Ruth, and with no audible objection from grandma, Cam is sent to a Christian camp to "fix" her gay problem.

What astounded me about this book was its maturity of language. It never reads like standard YA-level stuff. Not only is the phrasing itself beautifully evocative, Cam's voice is written with a sort of detached sense of awareness and understanding. Though written in the first person, never does her voice become passionate one way or another—it's very matter of fact, as though she already understands the significance of her actions and feelings. This character's development is a compelling portrayal of action and consequence; the story's details are often brutal and frank, lending an honesty to Cam's experience that neither sensationalizes nor sugarcoats it. I love how we are taken through several years of Cam's life and can see how both external events and her own adolescent development play pivotal roles in the creation of Cameron Post as a person, as a woman. She is a character we want to see succeed, or prevail, or just figure it out. And though the book obviously can't continue on forever, we are shown enough to believe, at the end, that she will be okay. Despite its hot-button and potentially heavy-handed subject matter, The Miseducation of Cameron Post presents a viewpoint that leans neither one way nor the other; instead, it shares one girl's story with great candor and sincerity. It is a story very much worth experiencing that I hardly feel I am doing justice.

Fiction | Romance vs. Realism in a Story of Young Love

Rainbow Rowell's bestseller Eleanor and Park strikes me as one of those YA romances like The Fault in Our Stars that is sure to be a hit with the teen crowd...while the realistic cynical adults like myself are entertained but also kind of roll our eyes and say, "Yeah, OK."

Or that may just be me, so I'll start with a summary, share my praise and grievances, and then let you be the judge.


The year is 1986, and Eleanor is the new girl in school. She wears weird clothes and doesn't talk much and nobody really wants to find themselves associated with her. But that's what happens to Park; he finds himself stuck next to her on the bus, and while he feels a certain amount of pity for Eleanor as the "weird new girl," it's not enough for him to outwardly befriend her.

But Park and Eleanor are slowly drawn together on their short bus rides in the morning and afternoon—linked by music and comics, eventually forming a quiet friendship...until one day when they find they can't live without each other. They love each other despite their quirks, and usually because of them; they love each other because they provide for each other new and unfamiliar worlds unlike their own background; and they love each other because they each feel such surprise that anyone could love them back.

The real meat of the plot here is Eleanor and Park's developing relationship and how it responds to all of the outside factors that come its way—how they're treated at school, how they handle it within their families, and, more seriously, Eleanor's own impoverished home environment with an abusive parent. Just as real teenagers have to do every day, our protagonists have to navigate their own ever-changing emotions and new grown-up experiences in the already-chaotic world around them.


Here's where I'll digress into my post-adolescent cynicism just a bit...

I felt that Eleanor and Park, as often happens in young adult entertainment, had an extra injection of emotion and melodrama, of angst and romance, that authors and screenwriters and lyricists pump into their works to reflect how affecting adolescence is. But, though teens certainly feel a huge range of emotion, and though they do deal with many many serious issues, everyone is just not this affected. These authors pen characters and behaviors and actions that would rarely, if ever, actually happen...but yet it's the stuff that teens may want to happen, because they want to be more and feel more than they are.

It's a poignant time in terms of emotional development, but I don't always find stories like this very realistic. Usually it's a particular action of a character, as it was in this book, that puts me over the edge and draws the line between contrived and realistic; because, whether its my adulthood or my realism, I just don't believe these actions would happen. And worst of all, I think they perpetuate this incomprehensible reality of "teenagedom" that terrifies adults when it's really a very comprehensible, relatable thing—we've all been through it. Which I guess is my point. Sometimes it just seems unrealistic when maybe it shouldn't.


But, ultimately, who said books have to be realistic? A romance is a romance; it doesn't always have to perfectly mirror reality. If this will connect with a teen because they want and need that deep emotional impact, more power to this book and its message. And I especially praise the author for an uncensored version of high school relationships, good and bad. [Read more about censorship of this book and Rainbow Rowell's response.] This level of reality is what really connects with teens; you don't need to sugarcoat the harsh realities, and they want the down and dirty nitty-gritty. I would without a doubt recommend Eleanor and Park to my teen readers, and then probably play the devil's advocate part of a cold, heartless, unaffected grownup to inspire a great discussion with them.

Reading Roundup: The 5 Best Things About Sarah Dessen for YA Readers

I think I've mentioned it before, but I recently discovered that Sarah Dessen's entire oeuvre is available in the Nashville Public Library's eBook collection. And ever since that fall semester of YA books, where I first read Dessen in Along for the Ride, she has been my go-to author when I need something light and fun to read. This worked out perfectly for our recent two months of travel, armed with just a Kobo and a library card!

From quick pleas for book recommendations from female friends to job interview questions about book talks for young readers, Sarah Dessen has proved to be a very helpful answer for various book queries I've had in the past several months! I absolutely love her, and here's why:

1. Her plot lines are relatable—every day characters dealing with their every day lives.
2. They're never too dark and serious. Sure, there are "issues" but nothing that would have your mom ask, "Why are you reading something so sad??" like mine would.
3. However, her characters are not idiots. The books are enjoyable but they're not total fluff. Her characters have flaws but always develop a strong sense of self-confidence if they didn't have it before. Also, they generally accept other people's flaws—a good worldview to adopt.
4. The fact that you could categorize her books as Romance means there's a dependable happy ending. (At least in all the ones I've read so far.)
5. She has written A ZILLION BOOKS! (Ok, her website tells me it's only 11, but I definitely thought it was more.) This is perfect for a librarian's readers' advisory. "You liked this book by Sarah Dessen? Awesome! She has more!"

Over the course of our two-month trip, 3 of the 10 books I read were by Dessen. I'm not going to go into great depth, but I did want to share a quick summary of the three I read along with the stand-out themes of each.

In Keeping the Moon, Colie is sent to live for the summer in a town called Colby with her eccentric aunt while her infomercial-famous mother heads to Europe on a promotional tour for her fitness programs. Colie, like her mother, used to be overweight, but the two of them have embarked on a new healthy life. Only, for Colie, it didn't result in the same newfound self-confidence as for her mother. Colie still suffers at the hand of class bullies, and Colby is, finally, a place where she doesn't have the same social stigma as back home. She starts working as a waitress at a local grill and befriends her coworkers. For the first time in a while, she can live freely without always putting up a guard and keeping all her feelings hidden within. And that allows her to start to view the world around her--how people treat one another, how actions affect others—and how those outside influences don't have to define how you think of yourself.

The main theme in this one is self-esteem. Having always let the words of bullies affect her own sense of self, Colie observes the opposite when her Aunt Mira, often teased and ostracized by neighbors, just lets the words roll right off her. Viewing it from a different perspective gives Colie the confidence to face her own demons—both literal and figurative. This also teaches how social interactions matter and that flaws don't define a person.

That Summer is about a girl named Haven who's got a lot on her plate. Her fiesty older sister Ashley is about to get married to the most boring guy on the planet. And her dad is getting married too, to his much younger colleague at the local TV station where he works--the weather girl, with which he most definitely had an affair before Haven's parents were divorced. To Haven, nothing feels stable anymore; she takes solace in remembering good times of the past, and she can't understand why she's the only one who wants things the way they were. On top of all this, Haven was cursed with height. At almost six feet tall, she's way taller than cute and perfect Ashley, and she's not exactly comfortable in her own skin. When Haven randomly runs into Sumner Lee, her favorite of Ashley's many old boyfriends, she finds an escape and comfort in hanging out with someone from her happier past.

While Haven does have some self-image issues like Colie, that's not the main focus on this book. The biggest issue facing Haven is how to find happiness when the life you knew and loved has changed so drastically. She has a hard time facing the present and all of problems; she'd rather just live in the past. The biggest lesson here is that problems won't just go away if you ignore them; you have to deal. And life and circumstances will change; if the present sucks, things can get better.

Mclean is living in the aftermath of her parents' bitter divorce in What Happened to Goodbye. For the past two years, she's been with her dad, moving from town to town, wherever his job takes them. Every new place gives Mclean the opportunity to reinvent herself—she's been a goth, an egghead, and everything in between. Plus, Mclean knows they never stay that long anywhere anyway; there's no time for anyone to know the real her. Once they arrive in Lakeview, though, it's different. Mclean doesn't create a new character for herself for once, and she starts making real friends and facing the things she's been avoiding—mostly her mom, who's started a new life with a new husband and new kids. Her new friendships and relationships make Mclean realize how much she's been missing by keeping everyone at a distance, but if she's learned anything, it's that it can always just disappear out from under you.

What Happened to Goodbye has many of the same themes as That Summer; Mclean's world has changed, and rather than move on, she just sort of stops living. Colie coped by trying to live in the past; Mclean copes by changing herself. In doing so, she cuts herself off from people and avoids facing her own problems, which is a very lonely existence. This story is mostly about identity and figuring out who you are when you no longer know, because confidence makes it much easier to handle life's unexpected hurdles.

Fiction | Learning to Love the Unexpected

Back when I first read Sarah Dessen for my YA class last fall, I knew she would become a go-to when I wanted a wonderful, light, teen-angsty read. I found The Truth About Forever at the book barn back in the spring and have been holding onto it for the right moment ever since. [I also discovered the Nashville Public Library has, I think, her entire collection available for eBook check out, so I am definitely all set for the future.]

When I first read the synopsis for this book, I thought I might be offended: its main character Macy is spending her summer at a "boring job in the library" filling in for her perfect boyfriend who is away at Brain Camp. A) Boring job at the library, no such thing. B) I am offended you would even suggest as much. But ok, I know not every teenager has such a library-obsessed attitude as I did, so I decided to let it slide. In Macy's story, she's spending her summer this way because it's all part of her plan. She's very organized, very driven, and very safe. She's been that way since her dad died suddenly of a heart attack. Unable to cope with something she could never control, she tries to control everything else in her life. It's what helps her get through.

But living as Macy does is no way to live. Her plan leaves no room for error, for spontaneity, for adventure, for experience. When perfect boyfriend Jason decides to put their relationship on hold, from a distance, Macy starts to lose control...but this time she holds on for the ride. A new job with an eclectic catering company, new friends, and new experiences helps Macy open up and finally face the grief she's worked so hard to smother.

I get the feeling that Sarah Dessen's books are somewhat formulaic, and based on what she writes, I think that's unavoidable. She writes about real, relatable characters that, yes, can be considered unique as every individual is indeed unique. But they're all very normal. The settings are very Anywhere; the situations can happen to Anyone. Is this a turn-off? Heck no! As a kid, I always preferred "normal" stories about real people and real settings than anything fantastical, and I'm mostly still that way. Dessen's books are a great escape into a life that could be your own but isn't your own. And to prevent burn-out or that formulaic feeling, maybe space out your Dessen reading.

Reading Roundup: Eternal Summer

When I read Jenny Han's The Summer I Turned Pretty a while ago, I had just grabbed it from the shelf at the library because I recognized the title and needed a light summer read. I didn't realize it was the first in a trilogy, and I also didn't think I'd enjoy it as much as I did. I'd decided to space out the reading, so as not to totally binge, and I picked up the second in the series about two months later. Well, after speeding through that one, I just threw out my pacing plan and finished the last one about a week later, reading it all during one bus ride home from the Jersey shore.

I won't give any spoilers away in this post, because these books are like an angsty WB teen drama with the constant "will they or won't they?" tension keeping you guessing how it's going to turn out in the end. I will share my thoughts, though, because these books gave me some feelings.

The second in the series, It's Not Summer Without You, starts off where we, unfortunately, kinda knew it would (based on the first book and this one's synopsis)—and it's not very joyous. Susannah has passed away and Conrad's gone distant and AWOL. Belly is miserable at the prospect of spending her first summer away from Cousins. She's going through the motions at home, but nothing feels right. Belly, being a 17-year-old girl, is prone to melodrama, but this time even the cynical adults like myself can see justification in her moodiness—she's lost everything most important to her and, in a nutshell, is having to grow up. That harsh light of day is tough, and Belly's having to experience it without her security blanket.

What I like about this one is just that, how actual drama takes the place of melodrama and forces Belly to move beyond the inconsequential angst that has defined her for years. She's held onto this fantasy of Conrad since she was a kid, but real life is teaching her how to handle new situations and how relationships with those you love should be. We see a lot more of Jeremiah in this one, which I love, and I love seeing how Belly changes as she experiences the dichotomy between the two brothers. Han's use of changing perspective and flashback moments paints a thorough picture of Belly's world that helps the reader feel totally immersed in it.

Jump forward to the last in the series, We'll Always Have Summer, and all hell broke loose for me. The story jumps forward about two years, finding Belly in college and happy in a relationship with [highlight for spoilers] Jeremiah. But of course, because it's Belly, the past has its way of surfacing and making her head spin. [Spoilers] Of course, it's Conrad, because she just can't quit him.

Here's my very serious issue with this third book: I feel like I was taken for a ride. Over the last two books, we've gotten to know these characters very well; their personalities have been very well defined, to the point that we believe the "growing up" you do in adolescence can't possible change their roots because we have seen their backgrounds, we know what's engrained in their very souls, and we know what is true to character.

And the author, excuse my language, just shat all over that. It became very clear that she wanted a certain ending, and she manipulated her characters to reach it—leading them to actions that are 100% opposite of what we've felt to be so true about them. [Spoiler] THERE IS NO FREAKING WAY JEREMIAH WOULD SLEEP WITH SOME FLOOZY ON SPRING BREAK. NO. WAY. It's like she wrote the two books and then started the third and said, "Wait, I want it to end like this but I've already led it to this opposite direction....well SCREW EVERYTHING I ALREADY WROTE, I'll just switch it all out of the blue and BOOM, happy ending." More than anything, I felt insulted, because she abandoned these characters that we've grown to root for to achieve this ending that felt totally unauthentic.

So whatever. I adored the first two books in this series and am just sorry the last one disappointed me so. It's like how I've heard the 3rd season of Veronica Mars is terrible—that it's not even worth viewing because it just makes you so mad and almost ruins the entire experience—which is why I just watch Season 1 on repeat.

Fiction | Sun, Surf, and Summer Boys

Jenny Han's The Summer I Turned Pretty is the first YA book I've read since the great Fall of YA 2012, and oh, I thought it was great. This was the perfect book for me to celebrate my end of semester and kick off summertime.

What I loved about it is how Han really tries hard to capture everything that makes summer so great—at least for those of us who love it. Most integral to the story, she taps deep into the details that make summer so memorable and so defining for Belly, the story's main character.

Fifteen-year-old Belly has spent every summer of her life in the beach town of Cousins. She's described as measuring her life in summers; all year she looks forward to the day she, her mom, and her brother pull into the beach house owned by her mom's best friend Susanna and begin unpacking the car. To Belly, the summer in Cousins isn't vacation; this is the life she lives for. And alongside Belly's family is Susanna's—her two boys, Conrad and Jeremiah, that have always, for the most part, treated Belly as their little sister.

But as happens when kids grow up and teenager hormones are running rampant, things just aren't that simple anymore. For the first time in Belly's life, she feels eyes on her in a different way. Boys are starting to take notice, and it's causing a shift in the household dynamic with three testosterone-driven boys that Belly isn't sure how to handle.

Belly's dramas are the same ones everyone suffered in adolescence that just feel so darn Earth-shattering. As you get older, you look back and realize that a lot of it was rather silly and melodramatic, but that doesn't make it any less important. It's part of growing up—feeling confusion and angst and just so much emotion about everything. For me now, at 27, I remember those feelings, but it's like I've matured and the rollercoaster has leveled out beyond the ups and downs.

Once you're in Belly's shoes, nothing she's living feels melodramatic the way you may expect being a YA romance drama. She's a strong character that experiences a lot of contrasting elements in her life; she's just trying to figure it all out, just like any other teenager. Her nostalgic levels rival my own as she relishes sweet memories, specific moods, and little details that have defined her summers so far. It's enjoyable to follow her experiences as she navigates first crushes, changing relationships, and figuring out her place. All I wanted after this is sun, surf, and cute floppy-haired boys. At least there's two more in the series!

Fiction | Finding Freedom on the Open Road

Usually, as one deeply committed to the literary realm, I am disinclined to admit that I judge books by their cover. But this one I totally did. I absolutely fell in love with this cover, and that was my sole reason for picking it up.

Luckily, the actual story in Nina LaCour's The Disenchantments did not disappoint.

Colby and his best friend Bev have had a plan since they started high school. Upon graduation, they were putting college on hold and packing up to backpack through Europe instead. But not before their final farewell—a week-long tour with Bev's band, The Disenchanments, from San Francisco up the coast to Portland. The tour doesn't start so well, though, when Bev reveals to Colby that she's abandoning their plans to start college in the fall.

It's not so much Bev's abandonment of their plans, though Colby is mega-disappointed he won't be traipsing around Europe with his best friend. It's that he knows she has been lying to him for so long—long enough to apply, long enough to get accepted, and long enough to make plans—all while going on as if they're really heading to Europe after the tour.

It doesn't help that (of course) Colby is actually totally in love with Bev, making this situation 1,000 times worse for him.

The Disenchanments covers the week of that road trip, and it's a pretty delightful, optimistic experience. We experience the story through Colby's eyes, and he's clearly feeling a lot. Not just about Bev and the situation at hand; he's thinking all about friendships, relationships, love, and life—particularly, what exactly he's going to be doing with his once this road trip is done. All the interesting people they meet along the way—never too "out there" and never "too much" to feel contrived—are like pieces of the puzzle Colby is working on about his life.

The thing I liked most about this book is like what I said about the characters not feeling contrived. It never felt like the author was trying to hard to make a statement about life and uncertainty and the freedom that comes after high school. For example, you'd think that, being on tour and all, The Disenchantments would have a following. But in reality, they kinda suck. And Colby knows it. And everyone who listens to them knows it. And the band members themselves probably know it. But they don't care. They like to play, so they do. It would've felt too phony if, on top of everything else, the band was actually amazing. Instead, I think it provided this amazing message about originality in a tone that didn't take itself too seriously. It felt authentic.

Overall, it made me want that exhilarating feeling of uncertainty when you have nothing but freedom before you—both on the road and in life.

YA Reading, Round 11: Romance

This is it guys—THIS IS IT! This is the last YA Reading post, concluding my semester-long review of the YA books I read for my YA materials class in the fall. I have to say, though—while I am enjoying now getting to read what I want, my reading count has dropped drastically since I no longer have to cram in 3-4 books a week!

After all the sci-fi and adventure, I was really happy with the concluding genre of this class—romance! Finally! Light-hearted, cheesy, teenage angsty puppy love!

Sarah Dessen is very well known in the YA community, but Along for the Ride was my first encounter with her (not counting one day when a food truck outside of the Union Square Barnes & Noble was giving out free cupcakes in promotion of her then-newest book). In Along for the Ride, Auden is a quiet, somewhat haughty intellectual teen spending the summer with her dad and his new family in their quaint little beach town. Auden's new stepmom is the exact opposite of the motherly figure Auden is used to. Where Auden's mom is a serious feminist academic, Heidi owns a fashion boutique drowning in pink. Auden has put herself in an environment that is the opposite of everything she's used to, and has usually judged with disdain, but the new environment is healthy; her summer experience is sort of opening her eyes to all she's missed out on as a teenager—crushes, girlfriends, summer jobs, parties, etc. After befriending Eli, a fellow insomniac loner, Auden begins a quest to live like a teenager and open herself up to new experiences.

This is just the kind of book I would have loved as a teenager (ok, yes...and still as a 27-year-old). It's a realistic story, with characters who are just learning from their experiences and trying to figure themselves out. Sort of made me miss the teen years. (Am I the only one that ever misses high school?) I get the feeling that Dessen's books are fairly formulaic (feel free to refute if this is an incorrect assumption), but this can be good for many readers—easy to recommend their next read!

Ni-Ni Simone is an author who seems to have a similar repertoire as Dessen, but I guess she's the more "urban" voice, as publishing defines "urban" (really, it's just a racial/cultural difference). In Upgrade U, Seven has just started freshman year at Stiles University. Her roommate situation is great—her best friend Shae and new friend Khya; and her high school boyfriend Josiah is already a hot man on campus. Seven quickly learns, though, that college is not high school; life changes and people change. Her friendships are tested, and she's starting to wonder if she can trust Josiah when she sees the same girl constantly hanging around him. The introduction of a hot new stranger, Zaire, leaves Seven questioning if what she has is what she wants of if it's time to move on.

Hey, I liked this one too. Same kind of story format as Along for the Ride—simple, character-driven story that teens can really relate to. I think Upgrade U addresses that really awkward and emotional transition from high school to life after high school when you're not really sure who you are or where you should be. The dynamic between Seven and her roommates was the most enjoyable part. Like Dessen's books, if a teen likes this, the author has many more to read.

The Fault in Our Stars by John Green is one everyone has read by now, right? A lot of our class discussion on this book revolved around how you would describe, or pitch, this book to a teen. You don't want to open with, "Well, it's about two kids who have cancer..." because who wants to read a book about cancer? Guaranteed depression. Here's essentially what we came up with: "Hazel and Augustus have a lot of similarities: they feel like outsiders, and they both really want to experience life and love. Their meeting begins a journey of discovery and experience, exactly as both had wished. Oh, and they both have cancer."

I was expecting to read this one with more judgment than I could just because I'm usually that jerk that doesn't want to like what everyone else does. But, I actually really liked this one. It wasn't sappy; it wasn't contrived; it wasn't garnering sympathy by dealing with the big Cancer. Hazel hated cancer sympathy, and that attitude carried throughout the rest of the story. The two teens in the story have had to face more serious questions than most teens, but they're still relatable to anyone—the feeling of isolation and loneliness and the desperate hope that you'll find someone who just gets you. So yes, while it's a book that has cancer in it, it's not about cancer. Clearly the teens approve.

YA Reading, Round 10: Sci-Fi

This is one genre I definitely thought would be the least interesting, but it actually turned out to be one of my favorite weeks of reading. I really enjoyed these two books, but I'm still don't think I can apply that reaction to all of sci-fi. Maybe it's only coincidence that I happened to like both of these, so I'm going to say jury's still out on me and sci-fi...

Scott Westerfeld is the author of a few well-known YA series, Leviathan being one of them. The series is steampunk in aesthetic, taking place in a semi-fictional society leading up to World War I. A lot of the history is there—the leaders of the Austro-Hungarian Empire have been murdered, but its prince has escaped and is on the run. Meanwhile, Britain's Air Service has an intruder—Deryn is our heroine, disguised as a boy, because all she wants to do is fly...and she's brilliant at it. Naturally, our two protagonists meet and are thrown into an adventure as the world itself is on the verge of chaos.

There's no Allies versus Central Power in this war; rather it's the Austro-Hungarian/German Clankers, with their mighty steam-powered iron machines, versus the British Darwinists, who have employed fabricated animals to do a machine's work. This is what's so fascinating about this book—it takes these schools of thought from a real point in history and just runs with them, creating this big what-if scenario. It's based on enough factual history to keep the reader feeling realistically connected to this fictional world, but it let's imagination run free to consider a new way of thinking. Leviathan is the first in a trio, and I, myself, can't wait to keep reading, because this one ends without much resolution.

Ship Breaker by Paolo Bacigalupi is definitely not a book I would have thought I'd like. Even for the first couple of chapters I wanted to put it down, because it starts off a bit slow. Ship Breaker is dystopian in style and is set in the Gulf Coast region sometime in the future, when hurricanes have pounded the area to the point that cities have been ruined and civilization is primitive at its best. Nailer, our main character, is a light crew worker, meaning he hops aboard shipwrecked boats and oil tankers, stripping them for copper wiring to make quota. This is the work-driven society he lives in—just trying to survive, scrapping metal for an unknown boss somewhere up the line, wishing and hoping for his big break.

By chance, Nailer may have hit his jackpot when he finds a beautiful clipper ship (essentially, a yacht) beached by a recent hurricane. As he hops on board, he finds the entire crew killed...except for a beautiful, wealthy girl who may be worth more to him dead than alive. This is where the character of Nailer really begins to shine, showing signs of humanity, as he becomes a person rather than just a scavenger like the rest of them. Ship Breaker is an adventure with a main character who faces a moral dilemma, and the reader is presented with scenarios that demand consideration.

One of my favorite things is the descriptions of the world "as it was," or, as it currently is now. Reading a fictional future that so clearly links to the past makes you feel, as I mentioned above, so connected to the story and setting. This book is also the first in a series, though so far, there are only two. Recommended to dystopian fans or readers looking for adventure or uncertainty.

YA Reading, Round 9: Mystery/Horror

So, truth be told, I obviously finished my epic semester of YA back in December. But then you know how  December is...things got busy. And I still have a few more genres to post about, so I'm just going to pretend like we're still going.

Two things I have to say about this group of books: 1) It wasn't my favorite week. I think there are stronger horror stories and mysteries out there; 2) During this week, I actually listened to an audiobook for the very first time. This may or may not have influenced my opinions.

When you take a look at the cover of The Killer's Cousin by Nancy Werlin, it's like a flashback to 1993. Seriously, this book looks on par with I Know What You Did Last Summer and similar other teen horror covers. And it sorta reads that way too. I mean, it's timeless...but in a dated way, if that makes sense. In the story, David is trying for the second time to get through his senior year. The year prior, he was on trial for his girlfriend's death, and now he's avoiding the frenzy by staying with his aunt and uncle who seem to hate each other. He's also got a creepy younger cousin, Lily, who is really trying hard to ruin his life. And then there's the ominous memory of his older cousin Kathy who died years ago, but something's not quite right about the story. In the case of this book, audio was not the way to go. The narrator was boring, making the story drag. And his "annoying little girl" voice actually made me cringe from awfulness. The ending was fairly predictable (once you're into the story, you'll figure out how the author was trying to be witty with the title of the book), but it wasn't terrible to get through. It's probably much better reading on paper than spending 6 hours listening to (seriously, could've finished it in about 2).

Andrew Smith's In the Path of Fallen Objects is a different story. Now this book is creepy. I also listened to this as an audiobook, and the narrator was better (though not great), and my only real complaint was that it lasted like 11 hours or something absurd. The story follows two brothers, Simon and Jonah, as they leave their home behind in Texas (which isn't much of a home since their absent mother left for good) to hunt down their older brother Matthew who supposedly returned to Arizona after leaving Vietnam (yes, this takes place in that era). Along the road, they're picked up by a couple of seemingly normal kids not much older than their 14 and 16. Mitch and Lilly are clearly running away from something, but they're laid-back enough that it seems okay. Well, it is not. Jonah quickly figures out that Mitch is a psycho. His new mission is just survival. Protect Simon and Lilly and get the hell away from Mitch. Naturally, it's not that easy, and Jonah is in for quite a battle. Most of this story is frightening and suspenseful, but it's actually got quite a bit more to it; family, trauma, relationships--survival in every sense of the word. As eerie as this story is, I quite enjoyed it.

The Final Four Mysteries are a series of sports stories by John Feinstein. They follow two young aspiring sportswriters, Stevie and Susan Carol, as they cover some of the biggest events in sports and inevitably solve a great mystery along the way. I read The Rivalry, which covers the annual showdown between Army and Navy football. This is the fifth in the series, but it's not totally necessary to read them in order; you just miss out on a bit of background on the characters. The story is light and easy to follow. Non-sports fans will probably be bored by this series, because there is a lot of jargon and detail. However, it's a good series for sports fans because they move fast with continuous actio, which make it a good series for boys and reluctant readers.

YA Reading, Round 8: Action/Adventure

I distinctly remember 4th grade as being my biggest reading year as a child. We had a classroom library, and in addition to the books we read as a class, my teacher really encouraged independent reading for pleasure. I read such a variety of genres that year; I was really into the American Girl series and Gary Paulsen adventures AND Bruce Coville sci-fi comedies. This week's topic in my class, Action/Adventure, immediately took me back to those days of Gary Paulsen, and I loved it. This was the most fun week yet!

All of these stories are plot-driven and fast-paced. There's not a lot to think about—you just zoom through the story, hooked and wondering what happens next.

Will Hobbs' Crossing the Wire is about fifteen-year-old Victor's quest to cross the US–Mexican border so he can find work in the US to send money home to his mother and siblings. In Victor's world, there are many ways to cross the border, but all of them are risky. You could pay a smuggler to get you across, but Victor doesn't have that kind of money. Instead, Victor stows away on trains and trucks, hikes through the dessert, and encounters every potentially fatal extreme—scorching heat, freezing cold, hunger. And that doesn't even consider the people he meets along the way, never positive if they're out to hurt or help him. Victor is a character who just keeps pushing. He won't give up, and the story follows that same mentality—it's one thing after another, enough to keep the reader engrossed. One important thing to keep in mind is that this is a story to most kids/teens; they couldn't imagine it as their own struggle, but it's real life to many people trying to find a new life. Victor's story can put readers in someone else's shoes and consider what life is like across the wire. If your readers like this, Will Hobbs has written several more adventure books for YAs.

At the opening of Roland Smith's Peak, a teenage boy is arrested for climbing a New York City skyscraper. Ok. Think about that for a second. It only goes up (pun intended) from there. Our main character, aptly named Peak, has been climbing his whole life; it's in his genes. After his run-in with the law in New York, Peak heads overseas to stay with his father while things cool off back in New York. His father, by the way, runs a climbing company and his new mission for Peak is to get him to be the youngest climber to summit Mt. Everest...with his company. And Peak, despite knowing his father's selfish motives, is totally up for it. To say Everest is dangerous is an understatement. During Peak's climb, we learn about every slight misstep that is potential for disaster. Not only is the story full of action, it's also about Peak's relationship with his parents, making big decisions and sacrifices, and determining what's really important. There are so many details in this story to further explore—names and dates and places. Not gonna lie...as I was reading this, I was Googling the crap out of Mt. Everest. I'm too much of a chicken to have caught the climbing bug, but something like Everest is just too amazing to completely ignore.

Stormbreaker is the first book in Anthony Horowitz's Alex Rider series, and I dug it as a quick and thrilling ride. Fourteen-year-old Alex lives with his uncle in London until suddenly, beloved Uncle dies in a car crash. They claim he wasn't wearing a seat belt, but Alex knows that's not possible. Something's up. After his own investigations, Alex discovers his uncle was actually murdered and is, in fact, a spy for Britain's top intelligence agency. And now that Alex knows all this, he's essentially blackmailed into finishing his uncle's work. Suddenly, Alex is training with the toughest men in the country and weaseling his way into the circles that probably killed his uncle. Stormbreaker doesn't have much beyond action and adventure—only minimal moments of character introspection and growth—but it will attract a reluctant reader and excite those readers that want an on-the-surface thrill ride. And lucky for them, this is just the first in the (so far) 9-book series. (Also, there is apparently a movie.)

YA Reading, Round 7: Fantasy

Normally, the fantasy genre is not really my thing. I like books grounded in reality. I like characters and situations I can relate to. But you know what? These picks surprised me. I didn't totally love them all, but I enjoyed them. And I found myself more engrossed in the stories than I would've imagined.

That's sorta the fun thing about this class—I'm forced to read things I would never pick up on my own. And that's usually my reading goal anyway! Maybe I haven't been doing that as well as I had thought...

I had recently added Anya's Ghost by Vera Brosgol to my own to-read list after I saw a write-up on it somewhere. I do really enjoy the graphic format, so I was pleased to be forced to get to it sooner rather than later. Anya is Russian but you'd hardly know that upon meeting her; she's purposefully lost the accent and turned herself into a typical American teenager. In fact, the first thing you notice about her is how moody and perpetually annoyed she seems—so typical. One day, in a huff, Anya falls down a well and discovers a ghost who's been trapped down there for almost 100 years. Once Anya makes it back above ground, she discovers the ghost has followed, and it actually turns out to be great to have a ghost as a best friend. She can help you cheat on tests and learn important info about the guy you're crushing on. But then Anya makes a discovery that her ghost may not be as good-intentioned as she thought.

Ultimately, Anya's Ghost is a simple story about a girl who feels like an outsider, who feels like she can't fully fit into the new world she's in, and who feels such pressure to change herself entirely to do so. The artwork is very easy to follow for a beginning graphic reader, and this story has a lot of different appeal factors—it's part paranormal, part mysterious, part multicultural, part coming-of-age. It's got a lot to offer.

I chose to read Libba Bray's A Great and Terrible Beauty because of its premise...and I liked it even though I soon realized that I had actually mis-read the premise a bit. I thought it involved time travel, and I thought, "Awesome! Time traveling from a whole other era!" Well...it is not about time travel. Just gonna throw that out there now.

The story is set in Victorian England, prior to the turn of the 20th-century. Gemma Doyle has grown up in colonial India and desperately wants to return to England. The tragic yet mysterious death of her mother gets Gemma her wish as she heads back to England for boarding school, the very same one her mother attended. Gemma doesn't make the trip alone, though; there's a mysterious stranger following her, one she recognizes from the confusing day in the market that lead to her mother's death. She's also started having visions that hint there is much more to the story than she thought—much more meaning magical realms and unthinkable evil, all of which can be released into Gemma's world, good and bad.

Gemma is an interesting character, because she doesn't feel like she belongs in any of the worlds she is in. The friendships she forms with classmates are wonderfully and realistically complex—self-serving and petty, yet demanding and utterly dependent. It's not too "high-fantasy" and therefore wouldn't be a turn-off to non-fantasy fans. It's also the first in a trilogy...which I will proceed to read as soon as this semester is over! I think it was the historical mystery aspect that got me.

Perhaps the most well-known from this set is Laini Taylor's Daughter of Smoke and Bone, also the first in a planned trilogy. My professor loves this book and hasn't stopped talking about it all semester, even prior to us reading it. This, though, was actually my least favorite of these three. The setting is simple enough—Karou lives in Prague and seems like an average teen in a normal world...at first. But Karou has a lot of secrets about her that she doesn't even have the answer to, most importantly—where is she from? She was raised by a demon and always a part of a fantastical world that has never seemed anything but normal. She runs errands for him, traveling all over the world in an instant, but she's never understood exactly why. And then she meets a stranger in a dark alley in Marrakesh, the beautiful Akiva who is just as mysterious as she is, and Karou figures there is a lot she needs to learn.

The reality Taylor painted for this story has a lot more complexity in terms of fantasy than any story I've read before. For some teens, it may be hard to completely grasp, especially if they're not usually fantasy readers, but once you grasp the norms of Karou's world, it's easier to follow. And it's satisfying to read how little pieces of the puzzle are slowly revealed as you learn more about Karou's world. Most people walk away from this book considering it a Romeo & Juliet type love story, but I think it's a lot more than that. It also has the universal themes like identity, love, and loyalty that are easier topics to understand and relate to. Teens (and adults) seem to loooooove this book, but it was just ok to me—didn't love it, but didn't dislike it either. I don't feel much drive to continue on in the series, but if a teen does, they'll be happy the story's not over yet!

YA Reading, Round 6: Multicultural

I think teen readers will find Gene Luen Yang's American Born Chinese either incredibly wonderful or incredibly frustrating. Me? I'm just somewhere in the apathetic middle. This graphic novel is actually telling three stories simultaneously—the Monkey King's, a popular Chinese fable; Jin Wang's, the only Chinese-American in his new school; and Danny's, a popular teen whose life is being ruined by his grossly stereotypical Chinese cousin, Chin-Kee. The stories don't tie together until a twist at the very end, and this is the reason it may be frustrating to some readers. It's hard to see the point of all these stories until the end, and a reader may just give up. Or, a reader may love the format and be engrossed the entire time.

Ultimately, American Born Chinese is a story about identity and accepting who you are. On the whole, I just felt disconnected from it, which may have to do with both the format and the stories themselves. I felt sorta like Yang was writing this for someone particular in mind, or like he was intentionally being a bit cheeky in his storytelling. And my reaction was just, "Ok....and?" Maybe I just don't have enough of a personal, cultural connection to what the author was saying, but I felt like an outsider reading this; and a good book should connect you with the characters, no matter if you share a background or not. Its fast-paced, graphic style will be appealing for reluctant readers, but I'm not certain about its mass appeal to a YA audience.

In Secret Keeper by Mitali Perkins, Asha is sort of stuck in Calcutta with her mother and older sister, Reet. They're living with their in-laws while Baba (father) is finding a job in New York. And now they're just waiting...waiting to follow and waiting to resume their lives in a whole new world. Immediately, we see that this is a world with very strict tradition. Asha is an intelligent, independent, and athletic young girl, but her aunt, uncle, and grandmother don't approve of her usual tomboy behavior. Further, Reet is of marrying age, and though she's not ready for it, the family thinks it's time to find her a match (most likely to help the financial burden of three extra mouths to feed).

Asha and Reet are forced to grow up following rules of a society to which they are not accustomed. Suddenly, their opinions and independence don't seem to matter, and they find that the traditional rules of Calcutta are very limiting. Many readers may find the rules and injustices extreme, but these characters are representative of what many persons around the world have had or are still having to deal with. Many parts of the 1970s tumultuous Indian setting may not be relatable to a reader, but dealing with rules, making sacrifices, and finding one's place are universal themes. Good issues to think about and good topics for discussion.

The Sound of Munich by Suzanne Nelson is one title in the S.A.S.S. (Students Across the Seven Seas) series. It's not "multicultural literature" by its standard definition. The series follows American teen as they travel the world through a high school exchange program. The plots seem to be relatively simple, idyllic, and also pretty predictable—adventure, friendship, family, romance; in this one, Siena leaves her home in California to find the man in Germany who, decades ago, helped smuggle her father's family past the Berlin Wall. Naturally, this semester abroad opens Siena's eyes to new history, new people, and new ways of life.

Now you can see why this isn't exactly "multicultural" at its grittiest, but I like that this angle of "world literature" was included in our unit of study. A character like Siena is easily relatable—and maybe easier than a story written from a particular ethnic or cultural perspective. These books are like armchair travel; readers get to experience new places in a way that feels comfortable and easy to them. Yes, they're mostly lighthearted and pretty cheesy in that everything comes together perfectly, but they're still opening the reader's eyes to a new world. These are good intro books to multicultural literature, because maybe, if your interest was piqued by the setting you visited, you'll want to explore further. I'm sure they've been called sweet or lame or even awfully misrepresentative, but I probably would've eaten them up as a young teen.

I'm not going to say much about the last book I read for this unit, but it's too entertaining to exclude completely. Winners and Losers is one title in the Urban Underground series by Anne Schraff. The story follows seemingly Latino characters in a setting that, despite the Urban Underground theme, seems incredibly suburban. I feel like the author just had to throw in some key words like "barrio" with decidedly ethnically-named characters, and voila! You have urban fiction! Our class unanimously found this completely "un-urban" but maybe that doesn't matter, because, as one student pointed out, isn't a lot of adult "urban fiction" grounded in fantasy romance escapism? Anyway I guess the themes are still pretty universal, with human characters and all that. But for a good chuckle, can we just take a moment to look at a photo of Ms. Schraff? Yeah. "Urban."

YA Reading, Round 5: Historical

Judy Blundell's What I Saw and How I Lied has been on my queue for about as long as I've been writing this blog, but I didn't realize until it was on my reading list for class that it's considered a YA book.

The story follows sixteen-year-old Evie who is about as naive as they come. Her stepfather Joe has returned home to New York after World War II, and the family's postwar normalcy resumes pretty quickly. Someone, though, has been trying to get in touch with Joe, and he decides to drive the family, on a whim, down to Palm Beach for vacation, even though summer has just ended. Everything changes for Evie in Palm Beach. As a teenager aching to grow up, she gets her first taste of adulthood with fancy clothes and a crush on a dashing young man named Peter who served in Joe's company during the war. But then a tragedy occurs that leaves Evie searching for the truth in all she's seen and learning that she hadn't really grown up as much as she thought.

This was a National Book Award winner which really surprised me. I thought it was okay...not great but not bad, and not incredibly memorable. The thing about this book for a YA audience, though, is that it has a ton of appeal factors. You could classify it as historical fiction, as coming-of-age, as a mystery, as a thriller. There is an incredible amount of ambiance filling the pages of this book—smoky dinner parties, a muggy noir-ish Floridian atmosphere, the deceiving glamour and simplicity of postwar America—all masking the more serious undertones running throughout. You have this main character who is yearning for womanhood, yearning to be taken more seriously, and as an adult reader, you know what's going to happen because you can see the reality that immaturity prevents Evie from seeing.

On paper, this has all the ingredients of a book I'd love, but I think Evie got in the way for me. I just never liked her attitude (which may not be a good sign if I plan on working with young adults someday!). It does, though, have plenty of appeal for a YA reader.

At the beginning of the semester, my professor's comment on Markus Zusak's The Book Thief was, "Eeeeveryone loves The Book Thief; who doesn't love The Book Thief?" Well, sorry prof. Maybe you hyped it up too much, but I (and many of my classmates) weren't as in love as you thought we'd be.

The Book Thief is set in Nazi Germany at the beginning of WWII. At its opening, we observe the scene of a young girl at her brother's grave. She finds an object left in the snow, which turns out to be a book, The Gravedigger's Handbook, fallen out of a gravedigger's pocket. In the following years, as she's moved in with a foster family and started a new life, Leisel's book thievery continues. She's fallen in love with the written word. Meanwhile, the atmosphere surrounded her small German town is tense. The Nazis are on the rise; Jews are being chased out of town; work is harder to come by for Leisel's foster parents; and there's a Jew hiding out in their basement. As the world around Leisel falls apart, she has her books. And, of course, her eyes are opened to what's happening around her.

So, I am a sap for affecting sentimentality—plot lines that are sometimes sad, sometimes glad (e.g. I can't keep a dry eye during Parenthood). But there is just something in my emotional make-up that prevents me from getting affected by actual, serious depressing topics. It's like my brain doesn't fully process them and keeps them at a distance to prevent me from actually facing the issue. This book is sad; that's not even up for debate. But it never really upset me, and most people bawl during it. So something just must be wrong with me, and it affected my reaction to it. 

I think this is a difficult book to recommend to a teenager. Really, it's not a YA book. It can be, for the right reader, but for the majority, I think it has a low appeal. It has an intriguing format in that Death is the narrator, telling the story from an omniscient point of view. And the chapters are told as brief snippets, moments that Death witnesses, with Death's commentary scattered throughout. Overall, though, I think it's a tough book to get into. It's slow-paced and more "literary" in format. I think it's creative; I think it has merit; I think it is touching. But I just didn't feel it as much as I expected. And it will take the right reader to get something out of it.