Today’s post in our “So You Want to Read YA?” series is also the very last post in the series. We’re thrilled to welcome Lenore Appelhans — blogger turned author-blogger — to round out what has probably been the most enjoyable project we’ve taken on here at STACKED. There will be a roundup of all the posts in this series shared later today, in the event you missed one or you want to recall the fantastic recommendations from all our guest posters. 

Lenore Appelhans has been blogging about books since 2008 and is the author of the forthcoming novel LEVEL 2 (Simon & Schuster BFYA: January 15, 2013). Visit her at Presenting Lenore and follow her on Twitter @Lenoreva.

Today’s guest post for our “So You Want to Read YA?” series comes from author Kirstin Cronn-Mills. In addition to her post, I’m giving away an advanced copy of her forthcoming book, BEAUTIFUL MUSIC FOR UGLY CHILDREN (due out in October from Flux). 

Kirstin Cronn-Mills writes young adult novels and adult poetry. She teaches at South Central College in North Mankato, MN, where she is the faculty advisor for SCC PRIDE (People Really Interested in Diversity Education). She lives with her husband and teenage son and very much enjoys goofing around. Beautiful Music for Ugly Children is her second novel. 

In my day job, I’m a college
teacher—literature, academic writing, creative writing, critical
thinking. All of those classes require some exploration of “what
does this piece of communication DO?” And of course, communication
can do different things for different people. But it’s the first
question I ask when I decide what to teach (or write): what do I
want this book/idea/film/discussion to DO? I decided to approach
this post with the same spirit: if you’re going to read YA, what
do you want it to DO for you?

First, as an aside—do you want your
book to be a favorite of mine when I was young? Probably not, but if
you do, you need A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L’Engle,
Island of the Blue Dolphins by Scott O’Dell, or The Cat
Ate My Gymsuit by Paula Danziger. I don’t know if any would
be considered YA (I’d call them middle grade), but they’re still
awesome books.

Back to today. Do you want your book
to scare you? For me, that’s dystopian YA—books set in the real
world with a futuristic or science-fictiony or fantasy twist. The
scariest book I’ve read lately is Delirium by Lauren
Oliver. Love is illegal, and it becomes very scary business when
Lena discovers what it means to be in love. My next-to-be-read
dystopian is The Way We Fall by Megan Crewe. Virus books
like this one—blabbing secrets! Hallucinations! Death!—scare the
crap of me, because they seem possible.

Do you want your book to amuse you?
There are plenty of funny YAs out there—too many to list—though
humor isn’t a subcategory of YA as much as it is a delightful spice
in in the YA mix. Will Grayson, Will Grayson is my suggestion
here. A double author book by John Green and David Levithan, the
story revolves around Tiny Cooper (“It takes a village to date Tiny
Cooper”) and two Will Graysons. When you’re a teenager,
EVERYTHING is either deadly serious or highly hilarious. I like my
novels with a mix of both, and this one delivers nicely.

This week’s guest post for our “So You Want to Read YA?” series comes from one of the very first bloggers I ever read — Trisha Murakami of The YA YA YAs. 

When I first started library school, I wasn’t sure what I wanted to specialize in. Thankfully, I took a YA literature class my first semester and immediately knew that this was where I wanted to be. Less ten years had elapsed between my reading YA (well, mostly Christopher Pike, R.L. Stine, and Sweet Valley High) as a youngster and my “rediscovery” of it in library school, but so much had changed in that time. These days, my taste in YA lit has broadened and I work as a YA librarian in Hawaii.

Some authors are capable of creating characters that leap off the page, so believable and alive I could swear they were real people. If you’re looking for a story that doesn’t skimp on tension or conflict, but are primarily character-driven, give one of these a try.

A Northern Light by Jennifer Donnelly
Swoon.

Not because there’s a swoonworthy love interest, but because of the luscious, expressive prose. Sixteen-year-old Mattie is a lover of words and writing, and this love shines through in her narration.

After her mother died and her pissant brother who took off to drive boats on the Erie Canal and refused to come back and work the farm like he ought to abandoned the family after a fight with their father, Mattie must care for her three younger sisters and toil on the family farm. With her father’s struggle to make ends meet, not even a long-awaited letter informing Mattie that she has been accepted to college and awarded a scholarship offers the same sort of hope it once would have.

As soon as she said it, as soon as she talked about my dream like that and brought it out in the light and made it real, I saw only the impossibility of it all. I had a pa who would never let me go. Because it’s 1906 and Mattie’s father does not understand her yearning to leave, especially not when he needs her help at home. Accepting a neighbor’s marriage proposal would solve some of her problems, but then what would happen to Mattie’s dreams?

Right now I want a word that describes the feeling you get–a cold, sick feeling deep down inside–when you know something is happening that will change you, but you can’t stop it. And you know, for the first time, for the very first time, that there will now be a before and an after, a was and a will be. And that you will never again be quite the same person you were.

[quotes from pages 23-24, 66, and 2]

I Know It’s Over by C. K. Kelly Martin
Nick is sixteen and still in love with Sasha when she tells him she thinks they need a break, still in love with her weeks later when she tells him she’s pregnant. I Know It’s Over is written from Nick’s point of view, tracing his and Sasha’s relationship from beginning to end.

First love can be a messy topic, but Martin writes about it with an honesty and, in a way, precision, that gives the story a quiet intimacy. Yet Nick’s characterization and voice never ring false–he always seems like a teenage guy. Just as importantly, Martin allows both Nick and Sasha to make mistakes and decisions that seem true to them, instead feeling contrived or melodramatic.

Note: the ending (Sasha’s decision) won’t be for everyone, but this is still outstanding contemporary realistic fiction. A book that deals with issues without ever feeling like an Issue Book.

Flygirl by Sheri L. Smith
It’d be easy to root for Ida Mae Jones to achieve her dream of becoming a pilot, even if she didn’t have so many obstacles to overcome. But although Flygirl is historical fiction, Ida’s biggest obstacle isn’t sexism. It’s her race–which gives the story an added level of tension.

Ida’s father taught her to fly in their cropduster, but now he’s dead and she can’t afford to go to Chicago to earn her pilot’s license. After the U.S. enters World War II and Ida learns about the Women Airforce Service Program, which trains female pilots to fly non-combat missions, her dreams are revived. Then she realizes the only way she can become a WASP is to take advantage of her light-colored skin by passing as white. Once accepted into the program, Ida leaves home and travels to Texas, where WASP training takes place. And, needless to say, where Jim Crow laws make Ida’s deception extremely dangerous.

While readers will empathize with Ida and want to see her become a WASP, what makes Flygirl so memorable to me is the palpable tension caused by Ida’s race. Not just the fear of someone discovering she is black and the physical danger she’d be in, but also the mental and emotional weight of passing.

Marcelo in the Real World by Francisco X. Stork
Now that Marcelo Sandoval is seventeen, his father, a high-powered lawyer, decides it is time that Marcelo learn to function “in the real world.” Instead of the job that Marcelo wants to take, he is forced to spend the summer working in the mailroom of his father’s law firm.

Marcelo has an unidentified autism-like disorder that has put him at a distance from most people. Now he’s forced to interact with people who don’t know him, don’t understand him, or want to take advantage of him. But he also begins to recognize emotions and feelings he’s never felt before, to live beyond the boundaries he previously restricted himself to. And through it all, Stork masterfully brings Marcelo to life, with intelligence and tenderness and so much heart.

The President’s Daughter series by Ellen Emerson White (1. The President’s Daughter 2. White House Autumn 3. Long Live the Queen 4. Long May She Reign)
Unlike the books mentioned above, which are all written in the first-person, White uses a third-person narration in this series that I swear is more intimate than most books written in first (excluding the other books on this list, of course).

The second word I’d use to describe this series, after intimate? Smart. And leavened by an ironic, sarcastic sort of humor, often courtesy of some strong and intelligent female characters.

It begins during Meg’s sophomore year of high school–when her mother, a U.S. Senator and rising star in the Democratic Party, decides to run for president–and continues through Meg’s freshman year of college. As I’m sure you’ve guessed from the title of the first book, and the series, her mother wins the election. At times, the first book feels like a prologue or prequel to the series, introducing readers to Meg and her family and how they ended up in the White House. The traits that make Meg such a compelling character are present from the beginning, but they don’t come out in full force until books 2-4, when she and her family go through some intense ordeals and her strength of will is something to behold.

The President’s Daughter, White House Autumn, and Long Live the Queen were originally published in the 1980s. They were re-released in 2008, a year after Long May She Reign debuted, seamlessly updated to remove out-of-date references (well, except for some of the names).

bonus pick: Drums, Girls, & Dangerous Pie by Jordan Sonnenblick
So all my earlier picks all had memorable main characters. I’d be shortchanging Steven if I didn’t acknowledge his, um, memorableness, because he’s a great character himself. But honestly, Steven’s younger brother Jeffrey is the reason Drums, Girls, & Dangerous Pie makes my list. This book is proof that cancer books can be funny and heartbreaking at the same time, and the bond between Steven and Jeffrey is just awesome.

Flipping things around, what about books with fully-realized characters that are primarily plot-driven? In this category I’ve included books packed with twists and thrills. That is, books that 1) leave you breathless with anticipation, unable to put the book down; 2) practically demand you to read them again right away because of plot twists you didn’t see coming; or 3) put a new spin on a familiar story.

The Curse Workers trilogy by Holly Black (1. White Cat 2. Red Glove 3. Black Heart)
Noir mysteries + magic.

Black’s series is set in a brilliantly conceived world very much like our own, only with a magical Prohibition that was never repealed. Ever since 1929, when curse work–magically manipulating emotions, dreams, memories, etc.–was outlawed, most curse workers have been selling their goods and and services on the black market or working for one of the big six organized crime families, like the Zacharovs.

Take Cassel Sharpe’s family. Cassel is the only non-magical member in a family of curse workers. His (imprisoned) mother is an emotion worker and con artist, his eldest brother a body worker for the Zacharovs, and his grandfather a retired Zacharov death worker.

When Cassel was fourteen, he killed his best friend, Lila Zacharov. Three years later, as White Cat begins, he is a student at a boarding school, Wallingford Prep. After he wakes up one night on the roof of his dorm with no memory of how he got there, the school won’t allow Cassel to live on campus anymore unless he can get a doctor’s note saying the sleepwalking was an isolated incident and won’t happen again. As Cassel tries to con his way back into Wallingford, he realizes there is more to Lila’s death than he remembers. Memories can be manipulated, after all, and only Cassel’s talent for con games will allow him to uncover the truth.

And, just an FYI, I liked White Cat, but I thought Red Glove was much stronger.

Liar by Justine Larbalestier
On page one, Micah tells us she is a liar. Everyone at her school knows that she lies, but that hasn’t stopped her from continuing to lie. But now, after a missing classmate’s dead body is found and the police begin questioning students, Micah promises to stop lying. She swears she will start telling the truth.

Or is that a lie, too?

Despite her promise to be honest, Micah presents some things as truth that she later admits are lies. She tells us some of the things she (claims to have) lied about. She puts you, the reader, on guard, never knowing what or how much to believe. Because when a narrator admits she is a liar, and she makes such outrageous stories seem plausible, how much can you trust her?

Liar is not told in a linear, straightforward fashion. Instead, Micah narrates her story in short bursts that flash from “Before” to “After,” from “Family History” to “History of Me.” It’s an effective way of allowing Micah to control the flow of information, telling the reader what she wants to when it suits her, and leaving it up to the reader to decide what is true and what is a lie.

Read Liar, then make a friend read it so you can debate what *really* happened.

Cinder by Marissa Meyer (Lunar Chronicles, book 1)
Okay, the plot of Cinder isn’t new–it’s based on Cinderella and I found it mostly predictable in terms of plot twists (though I don’t consider this is a major flaw, considering the book is a retelling). Meyer’s assured writing keeps readers engaged with the story, even if you’re pretty sure you know where it’s going, and–the main reason I’ve included it here–she’s put a great twist on the setting. Many fairy tale retellings mine a familiar psuedo-medieval European landscape, while a few transplant the tale into modern times. Not Cinder. This is a sci-fi Cinderella (in fact, a cyborg Cinderella, as one of my coworkers exclaimed when I recommended Cinder to her), set in a futuristic, multiethnic New Beijing. Not as “literary” as most other books on this list, but definitely enjoyable.

The Chaos Walking series by Patrick Ness (1. The Knife of Never Letting Go 2. The Ask and the Answer 3. Monsters of Men)
Patrick Ness is an author who is not afraid to tackle big themes. That he does so in books with breakneck plotting and heartstopping cliffhangers (oh my god, those cliffhangers!) makes the series even more stunning.

In one month, Todd Hewitt will become a man and there will be no boys left in Prentisstown. All the women who once lived in Prentisstown, including Todd’s mother, are dead–killed by the same virus that made the thoughts of the remaining men audible to all.

Oh, and did I mention that the first book is narrated by Todd in a sort of common vernacular, complete with run-on sentences and occasional misspellings?

Yeah, I know what some of you are thinking. I thought it, too, when I first heard about The Knife of Never Letting Go. It took reading rave review after rave review on so many of my favorite blogs for me to finally give it a try. After which I mentally kicked myself–hard–for waiting so long before reading it. (Though on the bright side, it did mean I didn’t have to wait as long to get my hands on The Ask and the Answer and Monsters of Men. Because, seriously, those cliffhanger endings!)

Todd’s voice is strong and electric, and by the time I hit the end of chapter six in The Knife of Never Letting Go, I was hooked. As the story, and series, progresses with increasing intensity, the main characters become engulfed in a web of moral ambiguities; questions of war, terrorism, genocide, and more; provoked by one of the most charismatic villains in YA literature. It’s not an easy read, and not for everyone, but worth taking a chance on.

The Queen’s Thief series by Megan Whalen Turner (1. The Thief 2. The Queen of Attolia 3. The King of Attolia 4. A Conspiracy of Kings)
I refuse to give too much away about this series, other than to say it’s a fantasy about a thief and political intrigue, because I don’t want to spoil even the tiniest bit of the reading experience, but this also makes it tough to talk about and recommend the books.

Sample conversation:
Me: “Read it, it’s awesome.”
Other person: “What’s it about?”
Me: “It’s awesome!”
OP: “…”
Me: “Do you trust me?”
OP: “Uh, yes?”
Me: “Then just read it. In order.”

I can tell you from experience, this is not always the best way to get a person to read a book. But it won’t stop me from trying again!

If you need more, how’s this? Megan Whalen Turner is a genius. She’s a genius with point-of-view, a genius with the subtleties of language, and a genius when it comes to plot twists and reveals. She’s the kind of author who is still able to surprise you, even when you’re on the lookout for hints. And these are the kind of books that stand up to, are even enhanced by, rereading.

bonus pick: Jellicoe Road by Melina Marchetta
Jellicoe Road could have easily been my bonus pick in the Memorable Character category, as it is bursting with them. But I’ve included it here in Twists and Thrills because, although it’s not as relentlessly thrilling or cleverly twisty as the other books in this category, part of what makes Jellicoe so wonderful is its structure. You’ll start off the book confused, plunged into a war (what?) between the students at the Jellicoe School, the townies, and cadets (who?), with initially random excerpts of a story that’s not our main story (huh?). Then suddenly, everything starts to fit together. You see the connections and relationships that have been there all along. And still Marchetta manages to throw in a few more “Aha!” moments. It’s complicated and emotionally complex and respects its readers, and that’s what ultimately makes Jellicoe Road such a satisfying read. Not to mention, it includes my all-time favorite romance in YA fiction…

This week’s “So You Want to Read YA?” series comes from editor and author Brian Farrey.

1. THE MARBURY LENS—Andrew Smith is one of my very favorite authors writing today. I should add the disclaimer that, by nature, I like a little darkness in my books, especially my YA. Give me an unhappy or ambiguous conclusion over a nice, tidy, all-is-well ending any day. I want what I read to leave me with questions. Andrew does that. THE MARBURY LENS left me unsettled for weeks. OK, maybe dark and twisted isn’t your thang. That’s fine. The important thing (well, one of the important things) to get from reading this book isn’t the darkness but the innovative narrative structure and technique. Andrew’s storytelling isn’t linear, and that’s one of the things that makes it unique. When I read this, I thought, “I can’t point to another book and say ‘This is just like this person.’” The style and voice were unique and fresh. 
   
    

   Another writer who plays with narrative technique is A.S. King (in her Printz honor book, PLEASE IGNORE VERA DIETZ, you get the point of view of a pagoda). The result of this sort of narrative experimentation is something wholly original. (WARNING: This is one of those “you have to know the rules before you can break them” kind of things. Don’t throw in a weird narrative structure just to be different. It needs its own set of rules and they need to make sense.) That’s the danger of wanting to write Nancy Drew or nostalgia books. It’s not your voice and there’s nothing new about it. You’ve probably heard that, to pitch your book, it’s a good idea to say, “It’s just like Author X!” But, in all sincerity, I say: to stand out, you can’t write like anyone else.
   3. SPLIT—When you compare YA written
   in the past five years with something that was written, say, forty or
   fifty years ago, one of the biggest differences you’ll notice is
   voice. (To clarify: technically, YA as we know it didn’t
   exist forty or fifty years ago. But that’s a different story. For
   now, work with me.) Voice is so, so important to YA and it’s so, so
   hard to nail. It’s the summation of many factors: syntax, cadence,
   intelligence, point of view, time period, and vocabulary, just to
   name a few. It’s so elusive—and approached so subjectively by
   each writer—that many people acknowledge that you just know
   when you’re reading a good voice. Voice in contemporary YA often
   feels more intimate, more visceral. 
    
   In SPLIT, Swati Avasthi ‘s voice for
   Jace is pitch perfect. He is at once simple and complex. He is at
   ease and deeply troubled. He has his head screwed on straight and yet
   he’s ready to implode at any given moment. For me, the best
   contemporary YA is about conveying depth with everything.
   Characters work on different levels, as do the environments/world
   they inhabit. And a strong voice becomes a paintbrush capable of
   painting wide strokes when necessary, fine points that counter the
   wide strokes, and providing almost imperceptible color gradients that
   add nuance on both the macro and micro level. You should also check
   out Blythe Woolston’s THE FREAK OBSERVER. Loa’s voice is in many
   ways the antithesis of Jace but just as layered: fragile but
   resilient, honest but guarded. If I could assign homework for this
   blog post, it would be to read these two books and write a
   dissertation comparing/contrasting the voices used. (Have it on my
   desk by Monday.)
    
   Of course, I need to close with a few
   CYA comments. First of all, none of this should be read as YOU MUST
   DO THIS OR YOU WILL NEVER BE PUBLISHED AND SMALL CHILDREN WILL
   TRAVEL FOR MILES MERELY TO STAND ON YOUR DOORSTEP AND CHANT INSULTS
   AT YOU AND YOUR FAMILY. Do your own thing but forewarned is forearmed
   so know where you stand in the market.
    
   Similarly, I’m not saying These
   are the kind of books you should write if you want to get published.
   Far from it. My message here is These books give you a really
   good idea of what’s possible with modern YA fiction—and what
   works in modern YA fiction—and convey the feel you should be
   shooting for.
    
   I could go on and recommend other books
   but these three are a good place to start. Yes, there are plenty
   of current books that are nothing like the ones I’ve mentioned
   here. But, I promise, they all latch on to key elements of what makes
   a successful contemporary book. Look, it’s not 1850 anymore. It’s
   not 1950 anymore. Nostalgia is one thing but why repeat the past when
   you can be totally original?
    
   So, check your watches. We’re also
   due for another hatchet job on YA in some major newspaper. You know,
   claiming that YA is “too dark and depressing.” Whatever. That’s
   a rant for a whole other blog post.