Don’t forget to join Lenore and I this Thursday for our first Twitter book discussion of CK Kelly Martin’s My Beating Teenage Heart. Chat with us starting at 6 pm EST, using the hash tag #MBTH.
This was one of my favorite books last year, and I’m eager to not only reread it, but Lenore and I are excited to get other people talking about it.
There are a ton of “best of” lists floating around this year. I have a hard time choosing a best of anything, simply because I haven’t read everything and don’t want to make a decision when I could read something written in 2009 in, oh, 2011, and be disappointed I didn’t add it. Likewise, the reading experience itself changes as you read more and become a better reader.
So instead, I’m just going to give brief shout outs to some of my favorite 2009 reads this year. Many of these were not top-of-the-listers from their respective publishers or didn’t quite get the buzz they deserved. Although many of the other lists I’ve seen lately have had a lot of really great books on them, to me, they’re all the same books (you know I really liked Lips Touch but it’s been on everyone’s top list and it makes me wonder if people really consider their OWN favorites, rather than crowd favorites. Oh, and don’t get me started on Marcelo, which you already know my feelings on. But I digress…). These are all young adult picks; my adult reading this year mostly consisted of a few classics and a lot of non-fiction that either fell far from high opinion (Methland will be the topic of a future post about misinformation and the absolute importance of fact-checking) or was something that no one else would be interested in me gushing about (I love reading books about real estate, business, and finance, ok?).
In no particular order:
How to Say Goodbye in Robot by Natalie Standiford really blew me away. It was absolutely original and the writing itself was fluid and gorgeous. I heard someone describe this as an indie hit of books. This is a fantastic story of friendship and of loss, as well as family and how family goes through cycles because each individual does, as well. I love the relationships here, particularly the one Jonah has to Matthew — to the idea of Matthew and what that relationship does to him as a person. I love Bea’s position as a person on the outside and on the inside of both Jonah’s relationship to Matthew and the relationship he has with himself. It’s so pitch perfect and moving.
I felt like this book was just different from so much that’s out there right now. There’s a lot of depth but there’s not necessarily a lesson to be learned: it’s a moment – a year in the life of Bea – that has a lot of meaning and power but at the end the main character realizes that it is indeed one year of many and that that helps shape who she is. She is and is not Robot Girl, just as Jonah is and is not Ghost Boy.
The use of a radio show and characters was beautiful and unique, but not unique enough that teens won’t “get” it. This was something so modern, even though it takes place via radio – we all have these networks outside our physical place and all of these people shape us as we shape them. The ending conversations nearly brought me to tears because they were so powerful. Add to that the notion of the boy behind the camera rather than the boy in front of it also worked really well for me.
What really made this a great read was that it never once felt like Standiford was trying too hard. Sometimes an author or artist just tries to hard to make things work, but in this book, it felt like things just tied together well. It was clearly a well-planned book but it wasn’t oversculpted nor manicured to a point. It was left with enough room to make connections and pull together ties for each reader to take away something personal.
Lovestruck Summer by Melissa Walker. I’ve already reviewed this one in depth. Since that review, I’ve taken every opportunity to talk this bad boy because it never got reviewed in a professional journal, which kills me. Sure it looks girly, but it is so much more. I recently talked this one to a group of 9th graders, and it went out….not only did it go out, but my co-talker said she’d never otherwise pick it up but is now interested. I’ve already mentioned, too, what I think is a turnoff on this one, but if you are able to look past it, you’re in for a real treat here. I’m dying to get my hands on Walker’s Violet on the Runway
Ruined by Paula Morris is one I read recently that continues to stick with me. This is a ghost story, set in Lafayette Cemetery in post-Katrina New Orleans. I’m going to be honest, though, and say that it’s not the mystery or the ghost story that appealed to me; it was Morris’s absolutely enthralling descriptions of New Orleans and the history of Mardi Gras. What she weaves into a story that has massive teen appeal is something much deeper and more intriguing for adults. Setting plays such a huge role in this story, and Morris is able to make the city such a vivid character here. This isn’t to say that the entire plot, driven on the idea of spirits wandering the city, particularly after the disaster, isn’t interesting because it sure is. I’m not a mystery, ghost, or supernatural reader, but this one definitely did it for me, and it did it for me in a big way.
An Off Year by Claire Zulkey didn’t really give me a lot of emotions, to be honest, but that’s the point. Cecily and her dad drove from their home in the Chicago area to Ohio, where she’d be beginning her freshman year of college. We all remember those days, right? Well, Cecily decides when she gets there that she’s not actually ready and oh, hey, could she just go back home? Dad agrees to this, and the book follows as Cecily struggles to figure out who she is and why she made that decision.
There is not much action in this book, and frankly, Cecily did a lot of sitting around, whining, and picking fights. But as the book progresses, as a reader you really pull for her to figure herself out. Cecily is a little bit of all of us and I felt that Zulkey did a great job of making her totally human. And the lack of real plot is perfect because it’s realistic — but don’t worry. Cecily kind of figures something out at the end of her year, and it’s not a fabulous trip to Europe taken like many gap year kids.
Destroy All Cars by Blake Nelson is another one I’ve already reviewed, but it fits my bill here. This book is hilarious and spot-on in narration of a teen boy. I’ve read a couple other books trying to fit the voice of a teen boy, and they have just not done it for me (Carter Finally Gets It made Carter a total jerk and I think it was trying far too hard with being funny and Two Parties, One Tux, and a Short Film about the Grapes of Wrath was just a bit too forgettable). But James Hoff? Yep, he’s a teen boy and really, really funny….because he’s not trying to be.
That’s it folks, my five favorites of 2009. I’ve got a couple more 2009er’s in my currently reading pile, too, including Mare’s War by Tanita S. Davis (totally underrated and one that while I enjoy now, I would have absolutely eaten up as a teen, even though I have a contention with some poor editing [articles missing in more than one instance in sentences]) and Beautiful Creatures….and Along for the Ride, which I’ll likely go audio on.
I’m already thinking about the titles I’m excited about for 2010, but I also try not to get myself worked up about forthcoming titles because it’s this hidden gems that need to be uncovered and discovered.
What do you think? Do you agree/disagree or have any other favorites?
The Vietnam war is something I am pretty underinformed about, aside from what I learned in a few history classes and those classes, as any student of history knows, are biased. But perhaps what is more a disservice than some of the bias is the fact that the Vietnam war lessons come at the end of a long semester (unless one takes a whole class) and gets short changed. A lot of what happened goes unlearned.
All the Broken Pieces by Ann Burg is a novel about the Vietnam war without being about the physical war itself. This quick novel, written entirely in verse, takes place in the aftermath of the war. More specifically, it is set when Americans had the opportunity to save Vietnamese children Vietnamese children of war and give them homes in America.
Burg’s book opens with Matt, one of the rescued children, recalling something that happened in his life — but as readers, we’re left blind to what experiences he had as a child in the war-torn nation. His mom was Vietnamese and his father was an American soldier who raped her and left her. When his mother sends him with Americans, he is adopted into a family that loves him dearly and gives him every opportunity they can. He’s got a natural baseball talent, but even great talent doesn’t stop members of the team he made from making fun of him and his heritage. Tensions were high after the war, as it touched the lives of so many. Rob, one of his teammates, really dislikes him and goes out of his way to make Matt’s life difficult.
As the novel moves forward — and it moves VERY fast — we watch as Matt makes decisions about what he shares and doesn’t share about his experiences. At the same time he is involved in truly American pastimes, including baseball and music lessons, his mind reminds him of his uniquely non-American life. This comes to a head when he and Rob are paired for an exercise on the baseball field that causes them to come to total understandings of one another and of themselves. It is at this moment we as readers develop a total understanding of Matt and his life both in Vietnam and America. At this same time, Matt learns about how the war impacted other people he interacts with daily in America and he relates with them in a new way because he, too, is able to share his experiences on the other side. All the Broken Pieces is a novel that highlights cultural understanding in a way that readers of all ages can relate.
I found this to be quite a moving book; Matt is an exceptionally drawn main character with a great voice that left me wanting to know more. I felt like his adoptive family in hoping he would share his story with me and I felt great satisfaction when he did. Along with that satisfaction, as a reader I felt utter sympathy for him and his experiences. Moreover, this is the sort of book that left me as a reader wanting to know more about the Vietnam war’s outcomes and effects on civilians both American and made-American.
All the Broken Pieces is a Cybils nominee in the middle grade category, and while I don’t disagree with that age appropriateness, I think it might be better appreciated by those who are a little older. This is a story that has less in the way of action and more in character development, and the verse use is spot-on. Berg could not have picked a better way to share her story, and I am excited to see what she does in the future. I think this is a title that’s been under the radar this season, but I wouldn’t be surprised to see it get its due come awards time. At least I hope so!
Ever read a book and when you begin it you cringe thinking you already know how disappointing it will be? Well, I will say that’s how I felt when I opened Love is the Higher Law by David Levithan — it was my first book by him and well, the topic of 9/11 was one that I just don’t think can be done well just yet. Maybe never. But I was wrong. Very, very wrong.
Love is the Higher Law takes its name from one of my all time favorite songs, “One,” by U2. The story, told from three alternating perspectives, begins on the morning of 9/11 in New York City. Each of the three main characters — Claire, Jasper, and Peter — takes turns telling where they were and what was going on. I immediately connected with Claire because she was only a year older than I was when 9/11 happened. Although our moments in time were quite different, I just felt a connection with her that really helped me relate to the story.
This isn’t a simple story of the day of 9/11. Levithan does a really great job of connecting the characters to one another because as much as this is a story of alternating perspectives, it’s ultimately the story of one experience and one “being” — how we ALL relate to one another, and how we all related to one another in the moments of 9/11. The story follows the characters in the days following 9/11, as well as six months later and one year later.
Love is the Higher Law is a short book, but it’s mighty powerful. People like me who were aware of what was going on that day and in the days and months following can really connect, but it’s what Levithan writes in his author’s note that makes this book so powerful. He makes note that today’s teenagers were so young when 9/11 happened and just don’t have the stories to connect to. They’ve forever been in a post-9/11 world, and it’s our duty to share our stories so they don’t disappear. As much as we’re all hesitant sometimes to reflect or write about such a historic and defining moment, it’s something we should and have to do to ensure others “get” it.
I think what really struck me the most in this book was the use of U2 as a major thematic element. I think teens, who already have such intimate relationships with music, will connect with the idea that a band or an album can be a powerful instrument of memory and of humanity. As one of those people who absolutely fell in love with All That You Can’t Leave Behind, I really found that Peter’s connection with it is perhaps exactly why I find that to be such a strong album. This kind of defines the book and the historical importance of the entire moment, and it does so in a way that I think anyone can feel and understand. I thought it was an innovative way to develop a theme and plot without making it inaccessible to non-U2 fans or making it a story about one band. It’s much more, but this layer will really click with some readers without leaving others in the dark.
While I read this book quickly, it’s one that I know will stick around. I’d recommend this book to just about anyone because I think it will resonate with all readers. I applaud Levithan for writing it, and I can only hope other authors follow. And the alternating perspectives? Spot on. That’s a rarity.
Let me be fair in saying I had one HUGE criticism, and that would be the last few pages of the book. What made this title great was how apolitical it was. But in the end, Levithan made his political beliefs a little too clear. Moreover, for a book focused on 9/11 as an event and moment, making blatant political criticisms didn’t sit well and, I think, diverged from his ultimate goals. I found it out of place in the book and out of character. I wish he’d left this out — this is one of those issues I feared most in beginning any book on this topic.
Go read this one, please. As much as I’ve read about this book being award-worthy, I’m mixed on that. I feel giving it attention via an award might make teens a bit resistant to reading it (be honest — you slap a book with an award and sometimes that’s the last time it’ll be read), but I feel it also might fall behind other titles because it hasn’t had enough spotlight on it yet. Not to mention the professional journals didn’t give this one a good review, which is a bit short sighted. I just don’t think you can compare this title to Levithan’s others — it was written with an entirely different purpose and goal, and he hits a home run with that intention. Read it for the story and be pleased enough to pick up other books by this author. Don’t read it to compare it to his other books.