- Why do boys live five years longer? This book is, of course, the first in a series, so I can assume that an explanation is forthcoming in future books. This explanation needs to happen and not just become an unanswered question.
- Rhine refers quite a bit to how her twin brother, Rowan, protected her before she was kidnapped. Why didn’t she learn how to protect herself, instead of relying on her brother, who is the same age as her and therefore not necessarily better equipped to care for them? It would have been awesome if the roles were reversed and Rhine was the protector – then she’d have even more reason to want to escape and reunite with Rowan. I understand that not all female protagonists can be kick-butt girls, so this is my own personal preference rather than a criticism.
- This is not a complete story. Obviously I won’t give away the ending, but if someone had spoiled the ending for me after I had read about half of the book, my reaction would have been “And…? That’s it?” Sequels. I loathe them sometimes. But even books with sequels should tell a complete story. (That’s beginning to be a motto for me.)
Archives for March 2011
Hardcover to Paperback: Big Changes
We all know a cover can make or break a book. Sometimes, a cover will make the story read younger or older than intended and sometimes, it’ll be spot on. A recent trend, though, has been changing the hard cover cover when a book goes to paperback. If you’re a regular reader over at Alea’s blog, she does a regular hardcover vs paperback feature, and it’s something that always interests me. Sometimes the changes are obvious and make sense and other times, I don’t get it at all.
Here’s a few I’ve noticed recently in the YA world that are both exciting me and confusing me greatly.
Sarah Dessen’s Along for the Ride in hard cover. I like this cover — it’s simple, yet it does pretty much capture the story right there. But, you know, it had to be redesigned for paper back release. This will be a shocking change.
Auden is now wearing a red dress. I don’t get it. I will admit that I think Auden is more of a red dress kinda girl than a pink dress kinda girl, but why the change for the paperback? Composition wise, I actually think pink was a better choice, as it didn’t overwhelm the cover in red.
Next up, a cover change I quite like and one I think will resonate with readers a little more.
Wolves, Boys, & Other Things That Might Kill Me by Kristen Chandler has the title trend I kind of hate, which is the trilogy of “things” in a row. Cover wise, this one doesn’t really grab me at all. The wolf looks like a nice dog, actually.
But this paperback? This is fantastic. I love the fact nature is the huge force in the cover, and I think that the girl being barefoot in the water really captures a sense of fear. The title font works, as do the different colors. There is an entirely different feel to this book, and it actually compels me to pick it up more than the other one (which looks a little too much like every other paranormal book, as the girl suffers windswept hair syndrome).
Here’s a cover I’ve talked about before. I like this cover, but it’s nothing too special. I’m not sure quite how much it conveys the story nor the tone of the story (which is pretty light-hearted). This one’s had a bit of a makeover, too.
It’s not bad, but it falls into yet another cover trend which is the orange cover. I love the color, but I think the impact has worn out a bit. The coffee mug with the heart in cream has been done a few times, as well. But what I do like here are the arms and the blue shirt sleeves against the orange. And the font works really well, too. This cover feels more light-hearted than the hard cover.
I love the cover of Julie Halpern’s Into the Wild Nerd Yonder and liked the story quite a bit (minus the fact the main character totally back tracks on her belief in not judging/changing people in the end). The image here works well, as it captures both the Ren fair idea and the role that Dungeons and Dragons plays in the story. The pink also really captures the mood and makes the story feel contemporary. Note the tag line: My life on the dork side.
But then they went and did this to the paperback:
I hate, hate, hate the change, both as a reader and as a librarian. First, it’s a horrific combination of colors that does nothing but go back to the idea that books are dated and old and not cool. It’s a weird yellow shade and the font and color selection for the title screams 1970s. Don’t get me started on the dorky clothing, either. The people in this story are not DORKS in that sense. They’re geeks — they like to play role playing games and go to Ren Fairs, which does not mean they dress like people who haven’t seen a mirror. This plays into some pretty ridiculous stereotypes I don’t like at all. And please note: the tag line now reads “High school on the dork side.” There’s just such a lower level of appeal to this cover, and it’s really unfortunate how much a disservice it does to potential readers. It tries way too hard.
While we’re on cover changes that don’t work for me, here’s another one.
I love the cover for Dirty Little Secrets by CJ Omololu. I think Lucy’s captured pretty well, and you just feel like you’re stepping into a story about hoarding and about broken promises and dreams. A book about a dirty secret. The cover has an immediacy and contemporary feel. It works for me as a reader.
But the paperback seems to suffer from the dating issue. This book reminds me of books from the 1980s. And actually, for some reason it reminds me of the original Babysitter’s Club book covers. I hate the font on the title, since it definitely dates it, and I just don’t find myself connecting with the girl on the cover. It makes the story feel like the story is about her secret, when really, it’s not a book about her secret. And the background within the key hole looks way too clean. Frankly, I don’t think she’s got much of a secret here, no less a dirty one. The paper back doesn’t work for me at all.
You know why I love the cover for Matthew Quick’s Sorta Like A Rock Star? It’s quiet. It’s not really a stand out kinda cover. And this is important — this isn’t the kinda story that needs a loud cover to grab a reader’s attention. The story does it all on its own. There’s enough mystery in just the title and the shadowy girl in the background to invite readers into the story.
But then…
I’m of mixed opinion about the paper back. First, I dig the reddish pink cover. I dig the font and title placement. Know what I hate? Hair-in-her-face girl. This isn’t a story about a rock star. That is a bit misleading. Also, she’s far too pretty. She’s dressed far too well to be the person in the story, too. I think this cover is a little too flashy for the story and might be the ultimate disappointment for readers expecting a much louder, more rock star-esque story.
One more! This one I share because I love how the cover change to this particular book lets it work for two entirely different audiences (in a good way).
Tanita Davis’s Mare’s War has such a great middle grade cover. I love that it features the fact the girls and the grandmother in the story who are African American are depicted as such on the cover. But here’s the thing: this cover doesn’t work for older readers. This book works easily for an 11-18 year old audience, but the cover appeal is geared younger. But oh, what an awesome thing they did for the paperback:
Is this not gorgeous? It gets to the badassness that the story portrays in the grandmother, while it also has incredible appeal and respect for what she was doing in the story. This is also not a black girl on a cover who has been Photoshopped to look white (which happens far more than anyone would admit). This book cover has appeal for older readers in particular. I love that the transformation in this one doesn’t change the story but instead opens it to a wider audience.
Thoughts? This is obviously just a small sample of some of the cover changes that have happened recently, but they’re all ones that really struck me as meaningful in one way or another.
Audiosynced: Stargirl by Jerry Spinelli
Recovery Road by Blake Nelson
When we meet Maddie, she’s just in the beginning of her time at the transitional halfway house located at the treatment facility she’s been sent to. Maddie is was a party girl, into drinking and drugs and hard. She made it through the detox portion of her stay and now, she’s got the opportunity to try navigating life in “the real world.” Of course, her activities are highly monitored and she’s got a set of rules she needs to follow strictly, but this is her chance to begin rebuilding her life. She’s also seeing her counselor, who tells her she needs to work hard at starting something new. This is perhaps her only opportunity to begin completely fresh.
It’s here in this transitional home she meets Trish. Trish is the first girl Maddie feels any sort of connection with. The two of them go together to the weekly movie in town, and they form a good bond. But Trish has been in the half way house longer, which means she’s sent home before Maddie — weeks before her, even — which means that Maddie is once again on her own.
Enter Stewart.
Immediately, Stew and Maddie hit it off. Even though opposite sex relations are forbidden here in Spring Meadows, the two of them elect to pursue a relationship anyway. They have a chemistry and a real connection. It’s cut short, though, when Maddie is able to leave the facility and Stewart still has time to spend. But when Maddie leaves, he gives her his grandmother’s ring as a promise to her that they will be together again, and that they can make it through this recovery together.
Recovery Road really begins here: now that Maddie has left Spring Meadows, she’s able to reconnect again with Trish. She’s also thrust back into school and with school comes the people she hung out with in her pre-rehab life. Maddie has to work hard to avoid these people seek out new friends. She’s lucky, though — she stumbles upon a friend in the library who ends up being key to her figuring herself out. I won’t linger on this much because it’s a smaller piece in the bigger puzzle of the story. Needless to say, her transition back to school isn’t as painful as she suspected, and in fact, she’s found a fondness for academics. She actually wants to do well in class and raises her grade point average quite well. Maddie may even have college dreams, something she’d never have imagined for herself just months earlier when her biggest concern was her next hit.
When Stew leaves the facility, it’s not too long before he and Maddie can reconnect, and it is here that the story really blossoms. Their relationship is painfully real and it’s not always easy. I loved how Nelson built the relationship in this story, as it’s one that begins almost out of convenience and desperation — he and she are around the same age, both struggling with similar issues and they find solace in one another. But when Stew slips Maddie the ring, the relationship changes completely: it’s now one about making a promise to one another to get stronger. Here is the kicker, though. The promise ends up really being one Maddie gives to herself as the people she’s come to rely on as friends, Stew and Trish, will not have quite the journey she has post-rehab.
Throughout the story, Maddie has a lot of unique opportunities — she’s a role model for people, whether she believes herself to be one or not. And this is a chapter in her life that will come to a head, as well, and it will make her realize what a strong, resilient character she is. She also has the chance to change the lives of those closest to her. It’s hard not to spoil this, but I won’t. What I can say is that the way Nelson weaves in Maddie’s growth as a person is directly on the backs of Trish and Stew. And that’s not meant in a bad way; rather, her path is an entirely different one than either of theirs, and the decisions that they make on their own directly impact Maddie’s life. These things strengthen her as a character and make us as readers absolutely pull for her.
Recovery Road is not an easy book to read, given the topic it delves into and the harsh realities that these teens face on a daily basis. But I wouldn’t expect less from Nelson, and he handles these smoothly and realistically. For me, the setting is spot on, and the style is right for the book itself. It’s well executed in the use of multiple parts for the story telling, giving us insight into the different chapters of Maddie’s recovery. This story is right up there with Paranoid Park for me: it’s gritty, raw, and completely heartfelt. I loved being witness to Maddie, even though I should have had more reservations about her from the start. I also loved that everything I thought about other characters in the book shifted entirely because of my belief in Maddie.
This was yet another book I read in one sitting — something I’ve mentioned is a rare occurrence. But this book is so compelling and begs to be read as a whole. It is entirely fresh and contained a skillful balance of the grit with the realities of relationships. Maddie’s voice is approachable always, despite the fact it could be off putting. Recovery Road will, without doubt, be a story that sticks with me for a long time to come and it further proves to me that Nelson is a dependable, but extremely versatile, writer.
Hand this book off to Nelson’s established fan base, as well as those who like their stories gritty and real. I think fans of Ellen Hopkins or Amy Reed will find much to enjoy here, though stylistically they are much different. Those who enjoy Laurie Halse Anderson’s Speak or Wintergirls will also find a lot here. And perhaps the real audience for this is your non-readers. The people too cool to read a book — you know exactly who those kids are. This is the kind of book that will smack them in the face and make them realize there is stuff out there speaking to their interests and their lives. The language and discussion of drug use, partying, and an attempted rape scene are issues readers should be prepared for, so do not hand this to your younger readers. Without doubt, this story will appeal to both males and females because of the subject.
Miles from Ordinary by Carol Lynch Williams
There’s something I’ve come to really appreciate about Carol Lynch Williams, and it’s this: she can write the emerging teen (that is, the 12-14 year old) like nobody’s business. It is extremely tough to write this tricky age because it can either read too young or too old, and the problem is readers at this age are so different, and their levels of experience and knowledge so diverse. Some are ready to read about tough issues because they’ve been there. Others haven’t had quite the life experiences and therefore aren’t always ready to make the leap from middle grade fiction to young adult. But fortunately, those who are really have something spectacular to discover in Williams’s work. Miles From Ordinary is another winner.
Lacey’s excited to begin her new job at the local public library. She’s finally old enough to have real responsibilities, and even though this job is really a volunteer gig with no pay, she needs it. She needs time away from her home and her mother to figure herself out. See, mom’s not stable. Mom is a very mentally ill woman who requires constant care and attention from Lacey. Mom’s pushed away help from her own sister already, and dad left the family long ago.
Maybe more exciting for Lacey than her post at the library is her mom’s job — Lacey convinced mom she, too, needs to get out of the house and make something of herself. Although mom protests, the fear and social anxiety eating away at her, she decides she’ll try it, and she gets a job at the grocery store. Together, Lacey and her mother take the bus to their respective new jobs on this day, and both set themselves on the path of making their lives better.
Unfortunately, things don’t go as smoothly as Lacey hopes they will when she leaves work. When she makes it to mom’s new place of employment, mom is not there. In fact, she finds out mom quit the job just minutes after getting there, and now Lacey crosses her fingers that mom will be at home, in bed, and no where else. But when Lacey gets home, things aren’t what she hoped, and mom may have finally hit rock bottom.
This rapid pace book packs a punch with it — as readers, we’re right there along with every move Lacey makes. We care a lot about her and we feel awful for her because she’s been responsible for keeping an eye on her mother. She doesn’t get a chance to live for herself, and we know how excited she is to finally have something to do with her time. She’s eager to throw herself into her volunteer gig at the library where her aunt once ran the children’s department. We want her to succeed and have a killer day and positive start to this new chapter in her life.
And the thing of it all is, we don’t wish ill on her mother. Even though mom is made out to be a bit of a demon — not because she mistreats Lacey but because she’s so needy and dependent upon her in her day-to-day operation — we actually care a lot about her, too. She’s got a chance to make a positive change in her life, and we see her outlet to independence. It’d be easy to develop anger to mom, but we can’t; in fact, despite the fact she ruins Lacey’s day, we still care about her mom’s well being. We want her to be at home in bed, her depression taking over her. We don’t want her hurt.
The entire story takes place in one day, but there is so much packed into the story. We get the history of Lacey’s life, and we know she deserves so much better than she has. We get glimpses into her mother’s life story, too, without being bogged down in it. We’re getting it from Lacey’s perspective, which is, of course, skewed and needs to be. It’s pretty masterful story telling to do so much with so little — because in addition to taking place in one day, this book clocks in at under 200 pages — and there is nothing missing here. When I finished the story, I felt like it came to the right conclusion and that it didn’t need additional juice elsewhere.
Key to understanding why this book is so powerful is thinking about Lacey being 14. All we want is success for her, and we don’t necessarily mean success in a financial manner. We want Lacey to have success in understanding what it is to be her own person, independent from her mother. She deserves a chance to do what she wants to do and escape the ghosts which haunt her mom. She’s stronger than they are, and she knows this. But she’s still weighed down because of family decisions which left her in her mother’s care; however, Lacey is smart enough to know when she finally needs to seek help. When she’s taken too much of the weight on herself and when she needs to be herself. It’s a pretty powerful moment in the story. While some readers might believe the things Lacey realizes or thinks to herself read older than 14, I would heartily disagree — anyone who has lived through something like this knows what sometimes, young people are forced to grow up well before they’re meant to. Lacey is one such teen, and we can’t help but completely believe her. We also can’t help but breathe an incredible sigh of relief at the decisions she makes and the head she’s got on her shoulders. Lacey is a hell of a memorable character, much like Hope is in Glimpse and Kyra is in The Chosen One.
I also love that it’s Lacey coming to Lacey’s own understanding. There is not another person telling her what to do or think, and there is not a boy mixed up in her coming into herself. I bring it up since it’s a bone I’ve had to pick with a number of books lately. But oh, not here! Lacey is a pretty dynamite female character all her own.
This book will have appeal to young and older teen readers and is an excellent read alike to Holly Schindler’s A Blue So Dark (reviewed here). Hand this to readers who are ready for a mature and insightful voice, as well as those who may be struggling to find a story with which to connect. I really think there’s an understated power in Williams’s books to hook more reluctant readers, especially since her characters are younger.