Book Review: This Is What Happy Looks Like by Jennifer E. Smith

Book Review: This Is What Happy Looks Like by Jennifer E. Smith

This Is What Happy Looks LikeTalk about the perfect summer book! I dare you to read This Is What Happy Looks Like without dreaming about beaches, fireworks, ice cream cones, and a salty sea breeze or two.

In this sweet, romantic young adult novel, Ellie and Graham meet by accident (or rather, by e-accident). When Ellie gets a random email from a stranger asking her to walk Wilbur, the dog-lover in her just has to respond and let the sender know there’s been a mistake. (Otherwise, poor Wilbur!). What follows next is a charming email exchange that starts light and flirty and ends up as a soul-baring correspondence, in which these two share everything except their full identities.

Little does Ellie know that Graham is actually Graham Larkin, movie star and teen heart-throb (I picture the teen-aged Zac Efron), sighed over by millions of teen girls around the world. Graham’s a bit new to the superstar gig and is hungry for real connection, and for once, he’s found someone to talk to who isn’t wowed by the Hollywood glamor. So when Graham’s newest movie needs to find a new filming location, Graham’s quick to jump in and suggest the small coastal town of Henley, Maine… where a certain someone happens to live. Graham hasn’t told Ellie who he really is, and he’s hoping madly that their amazing virtual connection will translate into real life.

Ellie, meanwhile, lives a contented life with her mother in Henley, but dreams of going to Harvard to study poetry this summer, if only she can scrape the funds together to pay for it. She’s not particularly starstruck, and is more annoyed by the film crews taking over her hometown than eager to catch a glimpse of the stars. But when Graham finally catches up with Ellie, after a brief delay caused by a teeny case of mistaken identity, it’s clear to see that Graham and Ellie do have chemistry, and then some. The question is, can a small-town girl and a Hollywood star find romance and a relationship, despite the never-ending cameras and paparazzi just dying for some good gossip?

This Is What Happy Looks Like is light and breezy, and there isn’t much doubt that there will be some sort of happy ending. I mean, a book with the word “happy” in the title can’t exactly get too tragic, can it? Still, it’s not all fluff. Ellie and Graham both have family issues to sort out, and there’s some real heart in their thoughts about the paths their lives have taken so far, how they want to live, and what role their parents can and should play in their lives.

A plot thread concerning Ellie’s estranged father is a bit extraneous to the main storyline and seemed liked needless filler to me. While providing much of the fodder for any sort of obstacle to the romance (and every good romance needs to overcome an obstacle or two, right?), the pieces about Ellie’s father — her search for him, her assessment of his role in her life, and her mother’s backstory — didn’t feel as important to me as they’re made to be in the story. In fact, I think the story might have worked a bit better without this element entirely.

Beside that, however, I really enjoyed TIWHLL (sorry, can’t keep typing that title out any longer!) Especially coming on the heels of my previous read, which was beautiful but incredibly painful, it truly felt like a breath of fresh air to read this summery romance. Light and airy, full of characters with good hearts and good intentions, this really is a terrific summer read. I wanted only the best for Ellie and Graham — and I absolutely pined for a summer vacation on the coast of Maine, preferably with my feet in the surf and an ice cream cone in my hand. Bliss!

Book Review: The Sea of Tranquility by Katja Millay

Book Review: The Sea of Tranquility by Katja Millay

The Sea of TranquilityThe Sea of Tranquility is a searing story of two damaged souls who connect with each other when there’s no place else for them in the world.

Nastya was a 15-year-old piano prodigy, sparkling and full of hope, when she became the victim of a random, brutal attack that stole away from her everything that mattered, including her music. As the books opens, three years have gone by, and Nastya is starting a new phase of her life. Hopelessly damaged and mute by choice, she moves to a new town to escape her past, marching silently through her new school in stilletos and slutty clothes, just daring the world to try to approach. Full of rage, Nastya runs until she’s exhausted each night, bakes endlessly to keep busy, and immerses herself in thoughts of hate and revenge.

Josh is a 17-year-old boy who’s lost every member of his family over the years. Completely alone, he’s considered untouchable at school — he’s the boy who is synonymous with death. Josh is emancipated just shy of his 18th birthday, financially secure but living a haunted, lonely life in his family’s home, with no one but himself for company.

When Nastya and Josh meet, they each see in the other the possibility of companionship without demands. By finding the one person just as messed up as they consider themselves to be, they’ve found someone they can be around without having to deal with well-meaning questions, pity, or empty promises of an improved future. Josh knows he has no one and never will. Nastya knows that her life truly ended three years earlier. But together, they can find a few moments of relative normalcy as they escape from the prying, uncomfortable eyes of the rest of the world — the people who get to be happy and live without tragedy and trauma.

In The Sea of Tranquility, Katja Millay doesn’t flinch from showing us the truly ugly, horrific scars — physical and emotional — that violence leaves behind. Nothing is sugar-coated here; Nastya is a walking freak-show when we meet her, so devastated as a person that she presents herself to the world in the harshest light possible. Josh can see past her surface, but only because he also is someone who’s had to build a wall of indifference and defiance around himself in order to walk through a world full of happy, clueless people.

Josh and Nastya’s growing connection feels real and well-deserved. One thing that always bothers me in fiction — and this comes up a lot in young adult fiction especially — is when two characters find themselves in deep and instant love within moments of meeting. They may announce that they feel this way, but often it doesn’t feel true or justified. In The Sea of Tranquility, the last thing Josh and Nastya want is to be in love. Everyone Josh loves dies; he’d rather stay alone than risk losing someone again. Nastya feels that the real her died years earlier; she’s so full of hate and self-loathing that the possiblity of loving or being loved just isn’t there. As they begin to develop feelings for one another, they fight it. They value the comfort and safety they feel together, but it’s a tenuous safety, and at the first sign of seriousness or emotional risk, it may all fall apart.

Something truly lovely in this book is the cast of supporting characters. Josh’s best friend is a boy named Drew, a swaggering, attractive, blond “Ken-doll” who flirts constantly and can (and does) get any girl he wants — but as we find out, the image is mostly for show. Drew is a true and loyal friend with the heart of a romantic, who uses his reputation as a cover to hide behind while he pines for the girl he let slip away. Drew’s family is wonderful. His parents host Sunday dinner each week, with doors open wide to whichever of Drew’s stray friends happen to need a place to be, no strings attached. Both Josh and Nastya end up taken in by this warm family and find a sort of refuge there that they can find nowhere else.

Nastya allows herself to speak to Josh, but permits no questions about her past, what happened to her, and why she is the way she is. As Josh’s feelings for Nastya deepen, his frustration grows, and finally she must decide whether to walk away or let him in:

I’m not sure how long we site in Josh’s truck, holding hands, surrounded by darkness and unspoken regrets. But it’s long enough to know that there are no stories or secrets in the world worth holding onto more than his hand.

This is not an easy book. Every move and word of Nastya’s is soaked in pain, and I found myself choked up and on the verge of tears repeatedly throughout this reading experience. The author provides a harsh, sad look at the lives of broken people, and doesn’t allow for easy answers or solutions. The ending is not neat and perfect — but it feels right. Nastya will never be who she was. The attack that stole her life can never be undone. Josh will never get his family back. But for each of these characters, there’s hope, and by the end of the book, they manage to take steps toward a future that might actually include happiness and peace.

Beautifully written with memorable characters, The Sea of Tranquility is a book that’s often hard to take but is absolutely worth it.

 

Review copy courtesy of Atria Books via NetGalley.

Book Review: Invisibility by David Levithan & Andrea Cremer

Book Review: Invisibility by Andrea Cremer and David Levithan

InvisibilityTalk about difficult teen years. Stephen is 16 years old, lives in Manhattan… and has been invisible since birth. That’s right, NO ONE has ever seen him, and he’s never even seen himself. He has no idea what color eyes he has or what he looks like when he smiles. For most of his life, Stephen lived with his nurturing mother, but as Invisibility opens, it’s been a year since his mother’s death and Stephen is completely and utterly alone. His absent father pays the bills and is available via email, but Stephen lives solo in his apartment, observing people in parks and museums in lieu of companionship, and shopping online for all his basic needs. Stephen’s only knowledge about the cause of his condition is an overheard argument between his parents, in which his mother referred to a “curse”. Neither parent will discuss it with Stephen, and so he spends his days in solitude, with no hope of improvement and very little to live for.

All that changes when Elizabeth and her family move in down the hall. Elizabeth (who thinks she might prefer to be called Jo), her brother Laurie, and their mother have relocated to New York from Minnesota after Laurie was the victim of a traumatic hate crime. Elizabeth has had her faith in friendship and good will destroyed, and yearns for the anonymity of starting over in a big city.

Both Stephen and Elizabeth have their worlds turned upside down on the day that they meet in the hallway. For reasons that Stephen can’t understand, Elizabeth can see him. Of course, Elizabeth has no idea that there’s anything at all odd about this sweet, cute boy, until Laurie accidentally meets Stephen some weeks later and the shocking truth is revealed.

From there, Elizabeth and Stephen launch themselves into a quest to get answers and find a way to break the curse. With Laurie as a sidekick and supporter, they find Millie, a “spellseeker”, who explains why Elizabeth can see Stephen and introduces them to the world of cursecasters and spellseekers.

Did your eyes just glaze over a bit there? Because mine did at this point in the book. More on this in a moment.

The book, at this point, enters into a mad introduction to the world of spells and curses. Apparently, Elizabeth is a natural talent at seeing spells, and may even be one of the incredibly rare spellseekers who can not only see spells and curses, but can draw them off and dissipate them.

Hoo-boy.

Let’s be clear, there really is a lot to like about Invisibility. David Levithan is an incredibly gifted and talented writer, and once again he joins up with a writing partner to coauthor a young adult novel. In this case, he and Andrea Cremer write alternating chapters, he as the voice of Stephen, she as the voice of Elizabeth. David Levithan has taken this approach with great success in previous novels such as Nick & Norah’s Infinite Playlist (reviewed here) and Naomi and Ely’s No Kiss List. Here, however, the voices of the two authors don’t blend particularly well: I didn’t always feel that I was reading one coherent novel, rather than two separate narratives. Chapter segues are occasionally jarring, and the timing from one POV chapter to the next doesn’t flow as naturally as it should.

And then there’s the plot. I enjoyed the beginning very much. Stephen’s situation is fascinating. David Levithan does a lovely job of portraying his loneliness and sorrow, being the perpetual outsider stuck in a hopeless life. Where it all becomes problematic for me is when the focus shifts away from Stephen and onto Elizabeth and her new special magical talents.

My main quibbles with Invisibility are:

  • Whoa! Head over heels happens a bit too fast! Stephen and Elizabeth meet, and then, wham! They’re in love. No build up, not a whole lot of warning. It doesn’t feel earned. Frankly, from Stephen’s perspective, it’s a bit more understandable. After all, he’s never even spoken to a girl in his whole life, and here’s the first person he’s ever encountered who actually can see him! That’s got to feel pretty incredible. But for Elizabeth? I just didn’t feel it. Yes, she’s fascinated by Stephen’s unique situation, but to fall in love so suddenly? I didn’t believe it.
  • Also in terms of Elizabeth, here she is, newly arrived from Minnesota to New York — and yet she does almost nothing to meet people, explore the city, or establish herself. Conveniently, it’s summer when she moves in, so there’s no school — but this makes it feel that she and Stephen develop a relationship in a vacuum, and I had to wonder how much her own isolation factors into her readiness to be “in love”.
  • The book jacket copy stresses that Elizabeth “wishes for invisibility” and the ability to blend in — but since we never see her interact with peers other than Laurie and Stephen or even have the opportunity to blend in (or not), I didn’t feel that the story lived up to the description in this regard.
  • Once the topic of cursecasters and spellseekers is introduced, Elizabeth’s abilities become the focus of the story, and I felt that Stephen’s experiences get lost in the shuffle. To me, he is far more interesting than Elizabeth, but he becomes a passive participant in the drama as Elizabeth is the one who drives the action.
  • Okay, here’s the eyes-glazing-over part. The whole cursecaster/spellcaster business feels so… done. Once this element was introduced, my interest in the book really dropped off. Stephen’s situation is so interesting — but then to move into a story about ancient powers, a musty old collection of books, the ability to “see” curses and draw them out… maybe this is the only way to provide an explanation for Stephen, but I felt like I was reading a really different story than the one I started with. Witchy powers of one sort or another seem to pop up in every other YA novel these days; I didn’t think this was going to be another one of those.
  • Perhaps if I hadn’t read David Levithan’s Every Day so recently, this might have felt fresher. In Every Day, the main character is also an outsider due to a weird, inexplicable circumstance that forever separates the main character from the chance of a normal life — until everything changes and the character finds new purpose after falling for that one special girl who can see beyond the surface. So yes, parts of the set-up of Invisibility felt a bit too familiar. Different stories, but not such different predicaments.

I do want to praise the snappy writing, the clever dialogue, and the humorous moments that pop up from time to time to lighten the mood. I couldn’t help giggling in certain places, such as :

“News flash,” he says. “I’m gay, not a witch. Gay and witch is Dumbledore, and last time I checked, he was still just a guy in a book.”

Be still, my Harry-Potter-lovin’ heart! I also enjoyed the blink-and-you’ll-miss-it shout out to David Levithan’s excellent novel Will Grayson, Will Grayson, co-written with the amazing John Green. Little moments like this definitely added an element of fun to what is overall a pretty heavy mood throughout the book.

Invisibility has a dramatic climax, with plenty of action and some truly horrific events along the way. In particular, a nasty trail of curses inflicted on random people in Central Park is chilling in its violence and devastation. By the end, Elizabeth and Stephen reach a form of resolution, although not a solution. I do like that the ending is imperfect, rather than having our lovebirds overcome all adversity, beat the odds, have true love triumph, and all the various plot points that have become so clichéd by now. Instead, they find a way to move forward, but their problems are far from over.

I appreciate having an open-ended finale to the story, one that leaves the reader room to ponder what may happen and what the characters’ lives might be like going forward. I’m hoping, though, that this doesn’ t mean that there will be a sequel. Not everything needs to be wrapped up with a perfect happily-ever-after. There’s hope, despite the certainty of further challenges, and that feels fitting for Elizabeth and Stephen’s story.

Book Review: Doll Bones by Holly Black

Book Review: Doll Bones by Holly Black

Doll Bones

Doll Bones is a middle-grade book about friendship and growing up, about imagination and adventures — and it’s also a ghost story involving a pretty creepy doll, a mystery, and a quest.

Zach, Poppy, and Alice have been friends since they were little, but now, at age 12, they’re beginning to realize that childhood doesn’t last forever and that no matter what they want, their lives are all changing. The three friends live in the same neighborhood, go to school together, and for years now have been playing “the game” — a sweet flight of imagination involving their assorted action figures and dolls, in which they take on different characters in an ongoing story of pirates, adventures on the high seas, secret quests and a mysterious queen who rules over all.

But Zach is all too aware that his playtime isn’t so cool anymore, now that he’s in middle school and a star of the basketball team. They’re all growing up, physically and emotionally, and change is in the air. How long can they hold onto their childhood pleasures? At what point do they give into the pressure to put aside their toys and focus on sports, flirting, and other more “age-appropriate” pursuits?

Two events act as catalysts to the main action in Doll Bones: Zach’s father, newly reunited with the family after a three-year separation, grows frustrated with his son’s childish games and tries to force him into manhood by throwing away his action figures. At the same time, Poppy swears that the off-limits old doll in her mother’s china cabinet — dubbed the Great Queen by the three kids —  has come to her in a dream, demanding that the children deliver her to her proper resting place or risk being haunted forever.

All three children have doubts and fears to overcome. Zach knows that the time for such things is coming to an end. And yet, Alice and Poppy are his best friends. To keep his friends, should he indulge them one more time and agree to the crazy quest Poppy proposes? Alice, who lives with a strict and over-protective grandmother, has a lot on the line as well, but can’t quite walk away. And is Poppy telling the truth about the haunting? Or is this a last-ditch desperate attempt to keep her friends with her in their world of imagination, rather than allowing them all to move forward into their more grown-up lives as almost-teens?

At heart, Doll Bones is a sweet but sad exploration of the end of childhood. There are choices involved — whether to hang onto the fantasy worlds of their game for as long as possible, or to face the inevitable and say good-bye to make-believe. Zach is fully aware that Poppy’s quest is a defining moment for him, and ultimately, by choosing to go, he’s asserting to himself and to his friends that he wants to be someone who still believes:

But Zach wanted [ghosts] to be real, wanted that desperately.

If they were real, then maybe the world was big enough to have magic in it. And if there was magic– even bad magic, and Zach knew it was more likely that there was bad magic than any good kind — then  maybe not everyone had to have a story like his father’s , a story like the kind all the adults he knew told, one about giving up and growing bitter. He might have been embarrassed to wish for magic back home, but there in the woods, it seemed possible. He looked over at the cruel, glassy eyes of the doll, so close that she could have touched his face.

Anything was better than no magic at all.

The trio’s quest — to bring the doll to the grave of the girl she’s connected to and give her a proper burial — involves a road trip, camping, piracy, and breaking and entering. Along the way, they learn truths about themselves and each other, confront their fears, and start to figure out what they will leave behind and what they will keep as they move forward from childhood to adolescence.

Doll Bones works on multiple levels. Children may read it as a straight-forward adventure story, with secret missions, dangers and risks, and a ghostly mystery to unravel. I think adults will more likely be moved by the book’s exploration of the transition from childhood to adulthood, and the questions it poses: Does the end of childhood mean the end of dreaming and imagination? Do we have to give up magic and wonder in order to grow up?

The writing in Doll Bones is lovely and accessible. There’s just enough of eerie winds, strange sensations on the back of one’s neck, and seeing things that may not be there to give a reader a few chills and goose bumps along the way. It’s not terribly scary, but the middle grade target audience may find themselves a bit spooked by certain scenes and images. The reading level seems appropriate for middle school and above, although it might be a bit much for kids on the younger end of the middle-grade-reader spectrum. As for adults… well, I read it and thought it was wonderful. It’s a terrific book to read and and discuss with a kid, but there’s no reason not to read it for your own pleasure too. For an adult, there’s a certain sweet nostalgia for the days when one could indulge freely in imagination and make-believe, for the time before reality becomes more important than play.

In Doll Bones, Holly Black has created memorable, complex characters, a spooky ghost story, and a beautiful ode to childhood and the imagination. It’s sweet, it’s sad, and it’s delicious. Don’t miss it!

Book Review: Dead Ever After by Charlaine Harris

Book Review: Dead Ever After by Charlaine Harris

Dead Ever After (Sookie Stackhouse, #13)

What can I say about the 13th book in a series? For those who’ve spent the past several years on Mars, what you need to know is that Dead Ever After is the final book in the best-selling Sookie Stackhouse series (The Southern Vampire Mysteries) by Charlaine Harris. Set in the fictional town of Bon Temps, Louisiana, the series focuses on our heroine Sookie, a telepathic waitress whose family, friendships, and love interests form the core of these books, along with a whole host of supernatural creatures.

Over the course of 13 books, we’ve seen Sookie fall in and out of love, discover her own origins and powers, experience pain and betrayal… and act like a perfect Southern hostess while always displaying a sunny smile and a truly great tan. Sookie can “hear” other people’s thoughts with ease, and it’s enough to make a girl kind of crazy. She’s not the only oddball in town: Bon Temps and environs are also full of vampires, werewolves, shapeshifters, fairies, witches, and demons, to name but a few of the “supes” hanging around.

Are you with me so far? Let’s face it: No newbie is going to start with Dead Ever After — or if they did, they wouldn’t last more than a page or two. Dead After Ever is strictly for fans, the ones who’ve stuck by the author and her girl Sookie through all the ups and downs and just NEED to know how it all works out.

Okay, so Dead Ever After — worth reading? At the risk of offending the faithful, here’s what I think:

This 13th Sookie novel is, over all, a bland and unengaging outing — but in that sense, it’s not unlike the last several books in the series. Listen, I loved these books when I first started reading them. Some were incredible (Book 4! Hello! Shower scene? *blush*), some were dramatic and suspenseful (ooh, that 7th book!), but past 8 or 9, it’s been a steady downhill run.

In #13, Sookie is embroiled in a murder mystery (so what else is new?), but mostly she’s trying to sort out her tumultuous love life. Frankly, the murder mystery isn’t terribly interesting or compelling. Sookie is accused of a murder, but of course we know that she’s innocent. The bad guys in this book are familiar figures from earlier in the series — but to be honest, they’re from so long ago that I didn’t have much of a reaction when they showed up, and the mystery itself isn’t particularly mysterious at all. Instead, it just feels like an excuse to pad this book and give it a plot.

Without the murder mystery, what’s left? Well, all of Sookie’s past lovers show up at one point or another — it’s like a parade of ex-boyfriends. None of them contribute a whole lot to the story, other than giving Sookie an excuse to ruminate on what she doesn’t want out of life and in a relationship. The ultimate question to be resolved at the end of this series is which of the many men in her life will be “the one” for Sookie — but if you read book 12, Charlaine Harris pretty much already spelled that out.

So for me, Dead Ever After reads like one long epilogue — and really, the relationship stuff could have been a final chapter in the previous book, wrapping it all up, and we’d have ended in the same place. Sookie figures out what — and whom — she wants, parts ways with the one she doesn’t end up with, and that’s pretty much it. I’m not naming names (far be it from me to include spoilers here), but anyone who’s been paying attention throughout the series will know who I mean.

That’s the plot. Meanwhile, the writing in this book includes all the elements that drive me bat-&*^% crazy throughout this series. And it feels like it’s just gotten worse and worse with each book. Really, how much do we need to know about Sookie’s beauty regimen, her clothing choices, her kitchen habits, and where she shops? Is this a novel or her appointment book?

A few examples (and maybe you’ll want to bang your head against the nearest wall too):

Her makeup was minimal. She was lovely as always, yet I couldn’t help but notice she’d let her eyebrows stray all over. Motherhood could sure wreak havoc on a woman’s grooming.

Oh, honey. Please. Real mothers of babies don’t even brush their hair, much less worry about their eyebrows.

I heated up a DiGiorno’s that night, since no one would deliver out on Hummingbird Road… I tried to fold the cardboard disk that had been under the pizza. Those things are hell to get into kitchen garbage bags, aren’t they?

And another day:

I showered and put on my makeup and my summer work uniform — Merlotte’s T-shirt, black shorts, and New Balance walking shoes — and got in the car to drive to work. I felt much better now that I was following my normal routine.

But best of all was the single page where Sookie SHAVES HER LEGS TWICE:

Back in my own bathroom later that afternoon, I took my own sweet time soaking in a hot tub. My favorite bath oil scented the air pleasantly as I shaved my legs.

And four paragraphs later (and yes, it’s the same afternoon):

I shaved my legs and curled my hair and got my cowboy boots out of the closet.

But wait, don’t you want to know about the rest of her outfit?

I’d had them for years [the cowboy boots], and since I wasn’t an actual cowgirl, they were still in really good shape. Black and white with red roses and green vines: I was proud every time I looked at them. I could go fundamental cowgirl with tight jeans and a sleeveless shirt, or I could go flirty dance hall with a full short skirt and an off-the-shoulder blouse. Hmmm.

Sorry, I’m not going to ruin the surprise and tell you what she ended up wearing. Guess you’ll have to read the book yourself to find out.

Some book series, like some of Sookie’s houseguests, don’t know when it’s time to say good-bye. Sadly, this series has petered out over the course of thirteen books instead of ending strongly and defiantly several books ago, as it should have. The story of Sookie and her many friends, neighbors, and lovers ran out of anything new to say a few volumes ago, and it’s been mostly filler (plus makeup, hair, and shopping lists!) ever since.

So this is the way Sookie’s story ends: Not with a bang, but with a whimper. Or a shoulder shrug.

I read Dead Ever After. It was a quick read, but nothing really happened worth remembering. As I said, I think I would have preferred a solid, happily-ever-after epilogue at the end of book #12. Of course, loyal Sookie readers will want to read this one too for the sake of completion. But as a friend said to me, “I feel like I could skip it if you’d just tell me who she ends up with.” Listen, you really want to know? Let’s talk…

Mini-review: Friends With Boys by Faith Erin Hicks

Book Review: Friends With Boys by Faith Erin Hicks

Friends with BoysIn the young adult graphic novel Friends With Boys, Maggie has been home-schooled her entire life, but all that is about to change. Daughter of the police chief, little sister to three older brothers, it’s time for Maggie to face the real world… by attending public high school. It’s loud, it’s crowded, it’s overwhelming, but soon Maggie finds friends in dare-to-be-different Lucy and her protective big brother Alastair. To complicate matters, Maggie misses her mother, who abandoned the family for reasons left unexplained. And — oh, yeah, there’s a ghost. Maggie is haunted by the ghost of a woman who died of a broken heart years centuries earlier, and even though she doesn’t do much except hover around, Maggie would kind of like to be left alone.

I loved the artwork in Friends With Boys. The characters are well-defined, each with an individual style, and their faces are quite expressive. Maggie is cute, a bit of a non-conformist without being obviously “in your face” about it, definitely a girl who’d like to hang with her brothers rather than hit the mall or paint her toenails. I liked the book very much. Without having to shout about it, Friends With Boys shows the incredible strength that can come from having a supportive family, the importance of staying loyal, and how difficult it can be to be different. In a variety of ways, each character has had to decide whether to choose popular acceptance over individual quirks, and the book does a great job of reinforcing the idea that true friendships can only happen when the people involved value each other as they are, not as they “should” be.

This is listed as a young adult graphic novel. I’d recommend it for adults as well as teens. The story is engaging, the characters are dynamic, the artwork is light-hearted but detailed, and the plot never drags. Check it out!

Book Review: Tempest Reborn by Nicole Peeler

Book Review: Tempest Reborn by Nicole Peeler

Tempest Reborn (Jane True, #6)Question: How do you write a review for the sixth and final book in a series without giving away spoilers for the earlier books?

Answer: Very, very carefully.

Tempest Reborn is the eagerly anticipated final entry in Nicole Peeler’s hip, funny urban fantasy series about small-town girl Jane True, who is definitely a lot more than she appears to be. When we first meet Jane in book one, Tempest Rising, she’s an introverted 20-something living in Rockabill, Maine, where she’s both ostracized and demonized for causing her high school sweetheart’s death — at least, that’s how the most vocal townies see it. Jane worries about her not-so-healthy father and works in the charmingly named Read It and Weep bookstore, has terribly low self-esteem, and escapes to the ocean for a swim whenever she needs a pick-me-up. Jane’s world is completely rocked, and forever altered, when she stumbles upon a murder and gets caught up in the investigation. The biggest revelation? Jane’s mother was a selkie, and Jane herself is considered a halfling — half human, half supernatural, with magical powers and gifts that she could never have imagined.

Over the course of the six books in the series, Jane learns more about the hidden supernatural world, develops her powers, finds deep and meaningful friendships and connections , and at the same time, becomes embroiled in supernatural scheming and politics, has her life endangered countless times — and  finds the love of her life.

Meanwhile, throughout, we get to know Jane, and boy, is she a delight. Jane is a down-to-earth kind of girl, happiest in leggings and a t-shirt, fond of sweets and snacks, and not too shy about her libido. You could say that Jane’s appetite for delicious food is matched (or exceeded) only by her appetite for hot, no-holds-barred sex. (Not that she’s at all slutty, mind you; but when the right guy comes along, wowza, does she have fun.)

Nicole Peeler’s writing is uproariously funny. Like, I laugh out loud when I read these books, and I am not easily prone to fits of LOLing when I read. Jane is hilarious, silly, loyal, blunt, and really rather adorable.  Some delicious little Jane-isms from earlier books:

I wasn’t running now so much as stumbling quickly, panting like a geriatric lion. (Tracking the Tempest)

That hair-pulling thing he did really peeled my bananas. (Eye of the Tempest)

They were paragons of conservative propriety in public, but in private they swung like pinatas. (Tempest’s Legacy)

Some heroes are born. Some are made. And some are bribed with promises of food and sex. (Tempest’s Fury)

In Tempest Reborn, all of Jane’s struggles and triumphs reach a climax, with danger and disaster lurking around every corner. Book #5, Tempest’s Fury, ended in one of the cruelest cliffhangers I’ve ever read — particularly in a series that generally leavens the deadly peril with big doses of hilarity. That ending! I think Jane True fans everywhere let out a collective shriek on the last page… and then we waited… and waited… for Tempest Reborn.

Tempest Reborn picks up immediately after that shocker of an ending, and proceeds to slam readers up and down and off the walls a few times in the first few chapters alone. This is a decidedly much less funny book, simply because Jane is dealing with calamitous events, and there’s precious little to smile about, much less indulge in out-and-out laughs. The stakes are higher than they’ve ever been, Jane is at the center of the ultimate power struggle, and her life and the lives of everyone she loves hang in the balance. And… I really can’t say more about the plot. Read the books, dammit!

Nicole Peeler has a remarkable gift for language, creating a texture and idiom in her narration and dialogue that’s easily identifiable as belonging to Jane’s world. And what a rich world it is! The author’s talents extend to an incredibly creative knack for world-building. The rules and intricacies of this supernatural society are superbly defined, so that we the readers absolutely know by the sixth book what it all means and where our beloved characters fit in.

Plus, it’s all just great fun. Memorable characters include Iris the succubus, Daoud the djinn (who seems to be able to pull any object he needs out of his magical pants), Caleb the satyr (who is pants-challenged), Nell the gnome, Anyan the incredibly hot barghest, and on and on. There’s royalty, there are rebels, and — check out the cover — there are even dragons.

As a fan of the series, I was completely satisfied by the dramatic conclusion to the story — and very appreciative of the epilogue (which, again, I won’t say anything about, because — spoilers!). I’m sad to see it all come to an end, but I’ve enjoyed every moment of reading this uproariously funny, sweetly romantic, and scorchingly sexy series. I can only hope that Nicole Peeler will choose to set more stories in this universe that she’s created — but whatever she writes next, I’m in.

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My Jane True collection. Read ’em all!

Book Review: The 5th Wave by Rick Yancey

Book Review: The 5th Wave by Rick Yancey

The 5th Wave (The Fifth Wave, #1)Quick, what’s the first thing you think of when you think of alien invasions? E.T.? Independence Day? Close Encounters of the Third Kind? 16-year-old Cassie has news for you: When the aliens do arrive, don’t expect sweet and cuddly. Don’t think that a scrappy band of humans will join together to defeat the invaders, with an inspirational soundtrack thumping in the background. As the startling new young adult novel The 5th Wave makes clear, when the aliens do get here, humans won’t stand a chance.

In The 5th Wave, the end of life as we know it is pretty much a foregone conclusion once the mothership shows up. Forget alien fighter drones swooping screaming through our skies. They don’t need all the flash and boom. This invasion is definitely managed hands-off, and it works.

In the first wave, an electro-magnetic pulse takes out all technology — lights, cars, batteries, phones — in one fell swoop. As disabled planes fall from the sky and stalled vehicles crash violently on the highways, humans start waking up to the fact that their world isn’t really theirs any more. In the second wave, strategic detonations along coastal fault lines cause global tsunamis. Goodbye, sea coasts. Goodbye, 50% of Earth’s human population. The third wave is an airborne toxic event, a deadly strain of the Ebola virus transmitted by birds, wiping out 97% of the humans who’d survived waves 1 and 2. And still, the aliens aren’t done. And still, there have been no landing parties, no Terminators, no robot invaders. The cleverness of this invasion, as envisioned by masterful storyteller Rick Yancey, is that the aliens manage to wipe us all out with what’s already here, no intergalactic technology of death needed. It’s like an alien invasion, DIY-style! Kill off the humans using their own infrastructure, natural resources, and diseases. Very efficient.

I don’t want to diminish the impact of the suspense and revelations, the intense sense of doom and dismay that build throughout this book, and so I won’t go into detail about the 4th and 5th waves, which are insidious, unimaginable, and seemingly impossible to survive. Suffice it to say that you’ll be twisting your brain around quite a bit as you figure it all out.

Meanwhile, what about the people in this book?

Main character Cassie is a typical Middle America high school girl before the invasion begins. She has friends, a loving family, and an unrequited crush on the school football star, who really does not know she exists. As her world is turned upside down and she loses everything, she makes one promise: to protect her 5-year-old brother Sammy, no matter what. But when Cassie sees even Sammy taken away from her, she has to decide whether she can keep going. In a world in which she may be the last survivor, is there really any point to continuing the fight? When it’s safer to be alone than to band together with other survivors, is it any wonder that the humans don’t stand a chance?

Much of the book is narrated by Cassie, but not all. We also get powerful sections focusing on Ben — Cassie’s crush — whose experience post-invasion takes a dramatically different turn after he’s brought into a camp of survivors and trained by the military there to become a killing machine, to fight back, to never give in. But is there something more to the command structure than meets the eye? And how can Ben be sure who the enemy is?

We also meet Evan, a farm boy with chocolate brown eyes, who rescues an injured Cassie, nurses her back to health, and seems to be perfect in every way. All he wants to do is protect and provide for Cassie… and she is just not used to trusting anyone at this point. Is Evan for real, or too good to be true? Yes, she’s lost her ability to trust since the invasion began, but is she really being unreasonable here? As Cassie puts it:

That’s my big problem. That’s it! Before the Arrival, guys like Evan Walker never looked twice at me, much less shot wild game for me and washed my hair. They never grabbed me by the back of the neck like the airbrushed model on his mother’s paperback, abs a-clenching, pecs a-popping. My eyes have never been looked deeply into, or my chin raised to bring my lips within an inch of theirs. I was the girl in the background, the just-friend, or — worse — the friend of a just-friend, the you-sit-next-to-her-in-geometry-but-can’t-remember-her-name girl.

Can Cassie believe that this seemingly-perfect boy really cares for her, or is he playing her in some way? And if he is, what’s Evan’s true agenda?

The 5th Wave strikes just the right balance between human drama and life-and-death action sequences. The tension builds, scene by scene, and the sense of inescapable doom grows and deepens as the book progresses. There are twists and turns galore. At so many points, I thought I had something figured out, only to have all my theories and guesses completely thrown out the window by whatever happened next. The characters are introduced in quick but effective strokes; we may not have known them for long, but we do feel that we know them.

While The 5th Wave feels like a pulse-pounding action ride at times, it also captures the feel of a broken world, post-invasion. Earth itself feels like an alien environment after the first three waves have wreaked their destruction:

The creepiest thing, creepier than the abandoned cars and the snarl of crumpled metal and the broken glass sparkling in the October sunlight, creepier than all the trash and discarded crap littering the median, most of it hidden by the knee-high grass so the strip of land looks lumpy, covered in boils, the creepiest thing is the silence.

The Hum is gone.

You remember the Hum.

Unless you grew up on top of a mountain or lived in a cave your whole life, the Hum was always around you. That’s what life was. It was the sea we swam in. The constant sound of all the things we built to make life easy and a little less boring. The mechanical song. The electronic symphony. The Hum of all our things and all of us. Gone.

I can’t say enough good things about The 5th Wave. I could easily seeing this series (yes, this is the first in a series) becoming as big as The Hunger Games. The 5th Wave is a young adult novel, but it doesn’t talk down or avoid the all-too-real tragedies of a world gone deadly. There’s loss, horrific destruction, death of loved ones, cruelty, and despair. But there’s also tenacity, loyalty, love, and determination. The handful of main characters are not cookie-cutter archetypes; instead, we see flawed, identifiable young people, each struggling with choices, each lacking key pieces of information, but having to do the best they can with what they know and what they can figure out. Cassie, Ben, Evan and others are dealing with life and death decisions in a vacuum, with shades of gray and no clear right or wrong. We come to care about these characters deeply, and even when we don’t quite know what’s going on or who to believe, it’s a testament to the strength of the writing in The 5th Wave that we want so badly for them all to be okay.

The 5th Wave is scary, suspenseful, and intense, impossible to put down, and — once finished — really hard to stop thinking about. I broke my “no new series” rule for this book, and I’m not sorry! I just wish we didn’t have to wait (probably until 2014) for the next book. Check this one out — but be prepared to stay up way past bedtime. Once you start, you won’t want to stop.

Book Review: The Dead Fathers Club by Matt Haig

Book Review: The Dead Fathers Club by Matt Haig

The Dead Fathers ClubTake one devoted son, add in a recently deceased father, ghostly visitations, a suspiciously helpful uncle, and a vulnerable mother, and what do you get? In the case of The Dead Fathers Club, the answer is a modern-day Hamlet retelling that is hip, smart, and moving.

11-year-old Philip Noble’s dad was the owner of the Castle and Falcon pub (he wears a “King of the Castle” T-shirt) until his sudden and tragic death in a car accident. Philip’s poor mother is left to deal with the family business and its shaky finances, until garage-owner Uncle Alan (with perpetually black-stained fingers) steps in to save the pub and woo Philip’s mother, much to the poor boy’s chagrin. Making things worse is the appearance of dad’s ghost, who informs Philip that a) he’s been murdered, b) Uncle Alan is the murderer, c) the only way for dad to rest in peace is for his murder to be avenged, and d) Philip is the one who has to make sure it happens. Nothing like a little pressure on an already barely-holding-on kid.

Philip struggles to figure out what to do, but there are no easy answers. His kind-of girlfriend Leah tries to help, as does her brother Dane, but Philip’s plans invariably go awry, ultimately with tragic consequences. Meanwhile, his dad’s ghost begs him for justice, and his mom is desperate for Philip to be normal, move on, and try to be nicer to Uncle Alan, who — as it turns out — will be around quite a bit once they get married.

From the very first pages, in the opening chapter entitled “The First Time I Saw Dad After He Died”, you can just tell that you’re in for quite a ride. The writing is clever without being overly cutesy; the Hamlet references are certainly present, but the story stands on its own as well.

The Dead Fathers Club is written in the first person and told from Philip’s perspective. Philip’s voice is quite distinctive; his narration flows with little or no punctuation*, and he free associates in a way that’s almost poetic. His fears and obsessions seem realistic for an 11-year-old, and the sense of being out of control is conveyed through Philip’s every action and observation.

*Quick note on the punctuation in The Dead Fathers Club: I was quite amused to come across this post (“30 Things To Tell A Grammar Snob”) by Matt Haig, literally on the day I started reading this book. Check out #9 — I assume that this is book he’s referring to.

As a fan of Hamlet, I couldn’t help but be amused by the shout-outs, small and large, to the source material — even little details have meaning, such as Philip’s pet fish being named Gertrude. Likewise, I did a double-take when I got to this passage, once I realized, “oh wait, this is the To Be or Not To Be soliloquy!”:

My heart was doing its funny beating with no stops in it and I thought why am I me why am I not Mum why am I not the ticking clock why am I not a fish why am I not a loaf of bread why am I alive and most people are dead how do I know Im me how do I know Im alive and I thought it must be good to be dead not dead like Dads dead but to be nothing like when you sleep but then I thought it might be a bad sleep with lots of nightmares like the one I had last night when I was trapped in the black box and then my hand started shaking and I was scared why my hand was shaking and I thought I was going to die and I said Mum! Mum! Mum!

The Dead Fathers Club is a quick and engaging read. It’s touching, it’s quirky, and despite telling a well-known story, manages to pack in a few big surprises. The course of this novel does not run exactly as you’d expect, and that’s a good thing. Never predictable, but always a pleasure to read — I recommend The Dead Fathers Club for anyone who enjoys a classic story turned upside-down.

And a further footnote: Matt Haig is the author of the excellent vampires-in-the-suburbs novel The Radleys, and his new novel, The Humans, is due out in July. Can’t wait!

Book Review: Twerp by Mark Goldblatt

Book Review: Twerp by Mark Goldblatt

Twerp

In Twerp, a children’s book aimed at middle-grade readers, life is full of friends, fun, hard choices, and consequences. Main character Julian Twerski, age 12, lives in a close-knit Queens neighborhood in 1969. His best buddies are the guys from the block, and their favorite hangout is the vacant lot which they dub Ponzini. Back in Ponzini, they kid around, goof off, and get into all sorts of mischief, big and small. But when a seemingly harmless prank goes wrong, the six boys get a week’s suspension from school. In the aftermath, Julian makes a deal with his English teacher: He’ll write a journal about what happened, and in exchange, he gets out of having to read Julius Caesar.

And boy, does Julian want to get out of reading Julius Caesar:

So when I say I hate Shakespeare, I mean it. Lots of guys say they hate him, and what they mean is they hate the stuff he writes. But I don’t only hate the stuff he writes. I hate Shakespeare for writing the stuff. I hate the guy, William Shakespeare. If I met him on the street, I’d just keep walking. Because you know, you just know, while he was writing the stuff he was writing, he was thinking how clever he was. He was sitting at his desk, writing the words, and he could’ve just said what he  meant, but instead he prettied it up until it could mean everything or it could mean nothing or it could mean whatever the teacher says it means. That just drives me bananas. So if keeping this thing going gets me out of Julius Caesar, then count me in.

Twerp is Julian’s journal, in which he writes with a clear-eyed honesty about friendship, hopes, girls, doing favors, and all the everyday worries that come with being a sixth-grader. In Julian’s world, being loyal to friends is probably the most important thing of all, and his best friend Lonnie is a gem of a guy — totally loyal, incredibly funny, and with a big heart and tons of charisma. The ups and downs of their friendship include a fiasco over a girl (of course), an all-important track and field competition, and a long-delayed reckoning for their misdeeds and suspension.

Through it all, we see Julian contemplate the big picture. Where does he fit in — at school, in the neighborhood, in life? What does it mean to have good intentions? And are good intentions enough, if people end up hurt anyway?

Twerp is both a lovely nostaglic look at a time gone by and an ageless peek into the heart and mind of a boy figuring out what it takes to grow up into a decent sort of person. Author Mark Goldblatt captures the feel of a Queens neighborhood, with the boys hanging out on the stoops, wandering the blocks, knowing all the characters of their own small world. The boys and their parents fully inhabit this time and place, and readers are treated to a sweet-tasting view of boyhood. It’s a time before electronic gadgets and distractions, so fun is found in climbing walls, playing cards, chasing balls, creating diversions.

At the same time, by looking into Julian’s thoughts, we see a boy with a good heart who takes seriously the question of how to be a good person. He makes mistakes, it’s true, but through his journal, he comes to see the how and why of his mistakes and to understand what it takes to do the right thing. Julian is clearly a very smart boy, and his gift with words and his speed on the school track help ensure his success at school, both with teachers and with other kids. As the book progresses, we see Julian work through his guilt over his role in the event that got him suspended and ultimately take ownership for what he did and what he still must do in order to move on.

Perhaps that makes Twerp sound a bit preachy, and that’s not at all the case. Julian’s voice is light and often funny, and it never feels like a stretch to imagine that we’re really reading the words of a 12-year-old. The book flows smoothly, and the writing hits just the right mix of childish obstinance and adolescent insight.

Julian and his friends have an easy camaraderie and a sense of glee, which makes them quite fun to spend time with through the pages of Twerp. Twerp may not fit the popular mold of middle-grade books filled with secret worlds, mythological beings, and superpowers, but it’s a book that I could easily see a smart, eager reader enjoying quite a bit. No gimmicks and nothing flashy here — just a good, honest story of a boy, his friends, and his world. It may be a world that seems old-fashioned to a kid of today, but the underlying messages about friendship and doing what’s right are timeless.

Review copy courtesy of Random House via NetGalley.