Archives for March 2011
Elixir Giveaway
You may remember a little book we reviewed a while back called Elixir. It’s written by one Ms. Hilary Duff. Well, guess what? We have a copy to give away. But it’s not just any copy, you see. We have a copy signed by Hilary Duff herself.
That’s right — here’s your chance to win your very own signed copy of Elixir. Talk about a cool gift for yourself, if you’re a fan, or for use as a prize in your summer reading program or other events.
All you need to do to enter is fill out the form below. We’ll pick a winner at the end of the month. You may only enter once and you must be 13 to win. Easy enough.
Like Mandarin by Kirsten Hubbard
At 15, Grace has more wisdom and insight than I can admit to having at 26. To say Like Mandarin completely blew me away would be an understatement.
Grace is bored in her podunk town of Washokey, Wyoming. Nothing happens here, and she’s got no real way out until college, which feels like light years away. She doesn’t want to end up like everyone else, stuck here for eternity — or worse, end up like her mother who had a taste of freedom when she spent time in Jackson Hole, a town where something happens. Too bad mom threw it all away to come back here, to Washokey, where the only thing she cares about is her sister Taffeta’s pageant career. Since Grace threw her potential pageant career out the window years ago, well, mom doesn’t really care about her.
There is something in Washokey that drives Grace, and that is Mandarin. She’s 17 and the town slut, but she’s everything Grace wants to be: worldly, experienced, edgy, different. Sexy. If Grace could have any of those qualities, she’d be so much happier. If she could even get close to Mandarin, she knows her life would improve by leaps and bounds. Lucky for Grace, a school project leads her to end up in Mandarin’s orbit.
As their school relationship develops into something more serious — friendship, as Mandarin put it (and this acknowledgment is important) — Grace quickly begins to understand that the person she thinks has it all actually might not have anything. That everything she does and everything that feels so loose and free about her might be a cry for help. Mandarin is far from perfect. Grace can’t resist what comes with being associated with her, though, and she continues to spend time with her and seek her out. And when Mandarin suggests she and Grace run away and leave Washokey together to make waves in bigger places, Grace is at first excited. And just to ensure that Grace is on board with this trip, Mandarin will prove to her protege how truly horrible the people in this town are.
Like Mandarin is a little bit Courtney Summers with a little bit Siobhan Vivian with a little bit C. K. Kelly Martin with a little bit of Carol Lynch Williams. That is to say, this is an edgy story about a girl coming to terms with who she is and how the people she interacts with really impact her perception of self. It’s emotionally gripping, and it is completely honest in its portrayal of relationships. It is what every contemporary book should be, and it is one that will not last long on shelves. This book should be given to every teen girl when she enters high school — it is what they experience every day and not just in high school but even after. Hubbard’s book is a girl’s bible.
Grace feels lost. She’s lonely, feels like a bit of an outsider and a castaway in high school. She feels divorced from her own family, where her mother spends more time paying attention to her little sister than her. Grace wasn’t wanted, anyway; she was an accident, the reason her mom’s desire to escape was dashed. But Mandarin — she’s everything Grace longs to be. She’s beautiful. She’s sought after. She’s got a future ahead of her. She’s fearless. The longing Grace expresses is so raw; she believes just by being around Mandarin, her life will be better. That energy, that vibe, it’ll rub off on her, too. Grace goes as far as to imitate Mandarin, slinging her jeans low over her hips, wearing tighter, more revealing clothing, mimicking her trademark walk.
Every girl has felt this. Every girl has felt lost and driftless and believed that what someone else has is what they need. It’ll make them better and stronger. They idolize another girl, put her on a pedestal then hope to reach that, hope to even just touch that. Reading and experiencing this with Grace was tough. I’ve been there. I’ve done that. Sometimes, I still do it and still believe that. How I wanted to redirect Grace here. But I certainly can’t tell her the truths she knows already. She’s got them figured out. I’m not sure I do.
Mandarin isn’t all she’s cracked up to be. She’s a huge liar, but not so much to other people as she is to herself. She tells people things about her family that aren’t true, sure, but the fact is she tells them because they’re the things she’s convinced herself to believe. And the rumors about her being a slut aren’t rumors: she really is. She doesn’t lie to herself about the fact she sleeps around. What she lies to herself about is how this makes her feel. She says it makes her feel powerful, makes her feel like she has something she can hold about the head of other people.
This is a story about power. Mandarin knows she’s admired by Grace, knows that she can turn Grace into whatever she wants to. She knows — at least thinks she knows — Grace’s weak point. She’s going to get her there. Make her bend to her will. THIS is what fuels Mandarin, this power. When we get to the crux of the story though, the moment when Mandarin tries to prove to Grace how messed up the people in Washokey are and that she has no other choice but to leave with her, Grace realizes that Mandarin is doing nothing but lying to herself. Filling herself with meaning when there’s really nothing there. Sleeping with men and convincing herself it’s meaningful even though she knows it’s actually the opposite. And it’s here that I needed to back away because what Grace says to Mandarin is so much smarter and more insightful than anything I’ve ever thought. This is the moment when Grace comes into herself. When she realizes she’s one heck of a person herself.
One of the things I loved about this story was that there wasn’t a traditional romance here. There’s no boy vying for the attention of either of these girls. Hubbard keeps her focus on these girls and that’s all. That’s not to say, though, that what Grace feels toward Mandarin isn’t a crush — she has a complete crush on her. It’s a girl crush. It’s the kind of thing all girls experience, whether they’re willing to vocalize it or not. She’s not a lesbian, and she’s not interested in a romantic relationship with Mandarin. She’s simply infatuated with her. And Mandarin will, of course, tease the hell out of her. Maybe it’s sincere; we’ll never know because we don’t really get to know Mandarin’s internal thoughts. But knowing Mandarin, seeing her actions, understanding how completely unhinged she is, I think she was simply trying to get more of a rise out of Grace. She wanted to mess with her, break her completely.
The relationships feel authentic and are true and real to girls. Hubbard never tries to push the envelope here, never tries to make it anything it’s not. That’s why I appreciated it so much. There’s something honest in a mean girl story, but blatant meanness isn’t the only kind of relationship that happens among girls. Sometimes it’s subtle, even if it’s about power.
If you’ll remember, too, I talked a lot about the idea of place when I reviewed Julia Wertz’s Drinking at the Movies here. I love what Hubbard does in talking about these very issues in her novel. We know how who we are is linked to where we are, and both Grace and Mandarin really expand upon this. They live this and breathe this and believe everything about themselves to be tied to Washokey, though they go about it in different ways. But like Wertz’s character, Grace figures out that it’s only part of her whole. Mandarin, on the other hand, is letting this thing — this place — be her excuse for not confronting her real problems.
In addition to being a fantastic story about power and longing and growth, the writing in Like Mandarin is strong. Hubbard weaves together images that just work well and never feel cliche. As a reader, you feel the aura Grace places around Mandarin. Despite her longing to leave Washokey, you actually see how beautiful it is too — anyone who has spent any time in Wyoming knows the beauty of the open sky and the vast prairies dotted among the mountains. There isn’t a wasted word in this story, nor is the writing sacrificed for the sake of the story. This is a well paced book: it clips along but it does beg the reader to slow down at times and soak in the language.
This book will appeal to teens without question, and I also think this book will have great appeal to 20-somethings. Everything here is still as relevant and as relatable to them as it is to teenagers. I’ll be honest: this book doesn’t hold a whole lot for male readers, and you know what? It doesn’t have to. In fact, I suspect that what Hubbard might open the door for here is an opportunity for someone to shed light into this sort of relationship from the male perspective. This is a book that will speak to girls on a number of levels and it’s an important one. Grace is really something. I think she’ll be something to a lot of girls.
This is a debut author, but I suspect we have a lot to look forward to. I cannot wait for more. If you didn’t get the chance, check out the trailer we debuted right here. I think it captures the book perfectly!
Sean Griswold’s Head by Lindsey Leavitt
When Payton begins seeing her school counselor, she’s reluctant. Why would she need to get help? Her father’s the one who has been diagnosed with multiple sclerosis and he and her mother have been keeping it a secret from her. How dare they! Payton’s only reacting how anyone who has had such a secret kept from them would: she’s not talking to them. Not acknowledging it.
Yet, there’s something in her counselor’s suggestion to keep a focus journal that appeals to Payton. She’s a bit of an obsessive organizer and perfectionist, so maybe focusing attention on one object not related to her at all might help. So she chooses the thing that’s always been in front of her but to which she’s never paid attention: the back of Sean Griswold’s head.
Of course, this wouldn’t be a story about Payton’s working through her problems via the back of some guy’s head if there wasn’t a little crushing involved. It seems natural when you spend hours every week thinking about this random guy’s head you’d begin doing a little more investigating. Then you’d be following them. And maybe you’d be really liking him. Oh, Payton.
Sean Griswold’s Head is the kind of story we need once in a while: Payton’s dealing with a very challenging life event, but it’s not really her event. Rather, it’s her father, and the fact of the matter is, he and her mother have tried to shield Payton from it. As readers, we side with Payton on the issue, knowing that not being honest about this is wrong. It impacts her more than if they’d been honest about the situation. But the truth of the matter is this isn’t really Payton’s issue. It affects her, certainly, but the reason mom and dad keep it from her is because this particular aspect of the story isn’t hers, and it shouldn’t be. What Leavitt’s done is set the ground for the story about Payton to play out — the one about her navigating a family challenge while also coming to terms with who she is as a person, and what she wants in her own life. A lot of stories that tackle teens and ill/unstable parents focus too much on the parents and not enough on the teen, but this one gets it right. The set up is very smart and smooth.
The issues are dealt with in a realistic, 15-year-old manner. Payton’s got a great head on her shoulders, and she has a sense of humor that carries readers through the ups and downs of her father’s illness and her working through her focus journal. We’re right there as she experiences some pretty horrific-to-see events happen to her father (though note that these are done exceedingly well and in a manner that’s not scary to readers) and while she does the funny stuff that teen girls do when they want to get to know a guy better (she stalks him but in a not-creepy kinda way). We’re laughing right along with Payton but we know that despite her strong attitude on the outside and her ability to make light of so many situations, she’s got deeper feelings going on inside and she’s working hard toward acknowledging them and figuring out how to work with them.
In addition to dealing with her father and Sean, Payton’s also worried a bit about her friendship with Jac. At the beginning, they’re as close as possible, but when things in Payton’s life begin to change with her father and she tells Jac about her focus project, things become a little unwieldy in their friendship. I thought Leavitt did a great job highlighting how friendships ebb and flow, particularly in high school. Although Payton and Jac bicker, they come back together as they should. The addition of a boy in the story is simply a small thing they surmount together, and he does not ultimately change their friendship nor does he change who Payton is as a character. This is exceedingly important, I think, in a world of books where boys too often change the core of who the female character is.
Some of the other things I liked about this book were the smooth pace, and both the story and character arcs are realistic. The prose isn’t chunky or clunky, and the writing itself is pretty good. Payton has a great voice in the story, and she’s self-aware without being self-aware — which she has to be to understand the value that a focus journal has in helping her work through the tough stuff in her life. The book’s also clean, meaning you could easily hand this to a middle school reader and not worry about language, drugs/alcohol, or sex. Some of the stuff with her father might be a little over the heads of some readers that young, but for those who have had family members dealing with physical challenges like this, it will all make perfect sense. Likewise, I thought the way the romance played out with Sean was sweet in a first-boyfriend kind of way. It ties together with what her father’s going through in the end, and I quite liked that. I’m purposely being vague because how these things come together is smart and yet, it doesn’t change the core of who Payton is.
While I liked this book, I didn’t get enough resolution with Payton’s father and I’m not certain I buy that Payton herself has completely come to terms with what this all means for her as a character. I’d have liked a little more of how this plays out. I’m afraid this might make the book a little forgettable for me personally as a reader. I know it will stick with other readers far longer, but for me, there wasn’t quite enough to hold on to. This is, however, the kind of book I think will make an excellent book talk title because it will certainly resonate with readers who have experienced similar situations.
Pass this one along to fans of realistic, clean fiction and though I don’t usually limit my readership by gender, I think this book will have stronger appeal for females than males, given the role Payton’s relationship with Sean has in the story. I’d give this to fans of Sarah Dessen, Siobhan Vivian, or Jenny Han pretty easily. It reminded me a bit of Han’s Shug and so your younger readers of that kind of fiction will certainly like Sean Griswold’s Head.
In My Mailbox (26)
Welcome to another edition of In My Mailbox, a weekly meme hosted by Kristi at The Story Siren. This is a weekly look at the items received for review, purchased, or picked up at the library.
For review:
Illusions by Aprilynne Pike: This is the third book in a series, I believe. I haven’t read the first or second ones yet, but I know the covers pretty well.
Blood and Flowers by Penny Blubaugh: I think this one is about fairies. I’ll be passing it on to my book club kids since it’s not really my genre.
Purchased:
The Girl Who Couldn’t Come by Joey Comeau: A collection of short stories about sex. That’s all it is. They’re bizarre and funny and sad. I read this one really quickly and liked it quite a bit.
Fart Party 2 by Julia Wertz: I loved the first one so much that I had to pick up the second edition. So far, it’s not disappointing me!
I Saw You . . . Comics Inspired by Real Life Missed Connections by Julia Wertz: The title pretty much gives the description. I am on a comic kick, actually.
Recovery Road by Blake Nelson: What I am loving about my nook is the ability to have the book when I have the unquenchable desire to read something right now. Friday night I decided I couldn’t wait any longer for the new Nelson book, so I bought it and read it straight through. This is a book about a recovering party girl, Maddie, and the way she beats her addictions. I’ll be reviewing it soon — it is incredible.
It’s Too Late to Say I’m Sorry by Joey Comeau: Another collection of Comeau short stories. I love these so much.
From the library:
Essex County by Jeff Lemire: After the CBC/Canada Reads discussions, this book really piqued my interest. Perhaps it was the drama over the idea of a graphic novel having literary merit or value. This looks really good!
The Kneebone Boy by Ellen Potter: This creepy looking (in a good way) book is one I want to read for my middle grade book talks and as part of the Cybils reading challenge.
Yummy by G. Neri: This graphic novel is based on the story of Yummy, an 11-year-old in the south side of Chicago who got caught up with the Black Disciples. I read this one in one sitting and know it’ll go over really well in my book talks with the high schoolers.