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The Dairy Queen series by Catherine Gilbert Murdock

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One of my favorite series of books is wrapping up with the final episode, Front and Center, in a couple of weeks. Catherine Gilbert Murdock’s Dairy Queen series has been a very quiet set of books, receiving fewer nods than it deserves, but I think this final book may in fact help establish this as one of the best reads for girls of any age — with no foul language and a few sweet kisses as the most risque scene in book three, this will please readers and parents alike.

The Dairy Queen introduces readers to the Schwenk family, living on a farm in Red Bend, Wisconsin. And what’s Wisconsin without a major high school football rivalry? The Schwenks have two college players — Win at University of Washington and Bill at the University of Minnesota — who lives to tell the tales of the big Red Bend vs. Hawley games that always bring out the towns in huge numbers.

D.J. Schwenk’s the only girl on the farm, and with dad having problems and mom being so busy with work, she’s become the default farm worker. But the summer before her sophomore year, Brian Nelson comes by and informs her he needs to be helping on the farm. With trepedition, D.J. shows him the ropes of the farm….and how to condition so he can become the star quarterback of the Hawley football team. Yes, THAT football team.

Perhaps the biggest problem with the Shwenk family is that they don’t talk, and D.J. has a lot to say. It’s with Brian she finds a companion and she finds someone she can just talk to. As D.J. improves as a football player and Brian becomes a stronger quarterback with greater work ethic on the farm, they become more than just friends — they become football rivals when D.J. becomes a player on the Red Bend football team.

What I loved about the Dairy Queen was D.J.’s fantastic voice. She’s a strong girl but is so unsure of her actions and always feels weird — but she tells Brian these things. D.J.’s challenges are externally shared and I think these are all things we all feel that we’re too afraid to not say. Moreover, a female football player is such a great story in and of itself, and Murdock does her readers a great service in writing a sports-filled book without bogging it down in too many sport-related details. I don’t think there is a way you just can’t love and admire D.J. and live with her through the highs and lows of her social life, which, by the way, involves learning that her best friend in the world, Amber, is a lesbian. Oh . . . and had a crush on D.J.

The Off Season is the second book in this series, and it picks up with D.J. being interviewed and followed by People magazine because she’s a female football player and quite a butt kicker at that! In this installment of D.J.’s life, things really begin looking down: she injures her shoulder and must make a very important decision about whether she will continue playing football and potentially ruin her future as a basketball player (something which she thinks might be her only way into college since, well, she isn’t very good at English and doesn’t have the best grades — it’s not that she’s dumb at all, it’s just that being in charge of the farm really takes a lot of her time away from homework).

Moreover, the story in People may have just ruined her friendship with Brian.

Although these are huge challenges for D.J., the biggest comes during a University of Washington football game that the Schwenks had gathered around to watch over Thanksgiving. To save this from being a spoiler, I won’t say what happens but that her life is turned upside down, and D.J. is once again reevaluating her role in her family and her future. Oh, did I mention, too, that the Schwenk farm is bleeding money and that Amber, D.J.’s best friend, has been traveling the country with her new girlfriend Dean?

The Off Season developed a lot of challenges and resolved few, making room for the final installment of this series, Front and Center. It’s D.J.’s junior year of high school, and after choosing to pursue basketball as her sport, she’s being told from her coach she needs to step it up as a leader on the team if she ever wants to be recruited by a college. But where will she go? Will she go at all? With the trouble the family has financially, the only hope is a full scholarship.

D.J. struggled in this book with her desires for a relationship with Beaner or with Brian — yes, THE Brian Nelson. More importantly, D.J. doesn’t think she wants to go on to play ball at a Division 1 school. After visiting the University of Minnesota last year and again this year and watching the pressure these players feel from tens of thousands of fans, she feels it might be safer to go to a Division 3 school where she can play for fun, rather than feel the pressure to perform.

Of course, D.J. is offered two full rides from two very different schools that each have their strengths and weaknesses and she struggles with the decision to go at all. This is perfectly overlaid with the relationship struggles she’s feeling and the challenges at home. This book makes D.J. so human and so relatable, that with every page I wanted to be her best friend and her cheerleader.

It is Win, D.J.’s brother, who ends up helping her make the most important decision of her life, and it is he who ultimate changes her way of thinking about herself and her life. But it’s not JUST Win, it’s everyone in her life, including Amber and Brian, and mom and dad Schwenk.

The Dairy Queen series is one that I think all teen girls should read. D.J. is such a good kid, but she has challenges in her life that all teens do — and she is able to make solid, strong decisions in ways that teenagers can, too. Her family’s not perfect, but she is able to see them as people and understand why they do what they do and why that’s necessary. She’s funny and likable in so many ways. She’s empowered but vulnerable, and she’s not afraid to be either one of them. D.J. is a perfectly imperfect person. Murdock also weaves in a story of homosexuality that is well done and so realistic without being flat or stereotypical. Bravo.

I listened to the first two books on audio and commend them for those productions. The voice of D.J. is perfect, and throughout my reading of Front and Center, I couldn’t imagine her sounding any other way. I can’t wait to listen to this one again when it comes out on audio.

If you haven’t picked these up yet, please do. Now that the series is complete (well, okay, it will be in October), it’s the perfect series to recommend to readers looking for something with a strong character, great plot, and that will remain with them for a while.

Tales from Outer Suburbia by Shaun Tan

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When this title showed up at work, my coworker and I talked about whether it was a graphic novel or teen fiction. After thinking it over and looking around a bit, I decided to buck the trend and put it with graphic novels. Now that I’ve read this one, I still don’t know. Perhaps I’m more confused now!

Tales from Outer Suburbia by Shaun Tan is a picture book for teens and adults (I don’t think it’s exclusively one or another, really!). More accurately, it’s a collection of short stories accompanied by detailed, fantastical art work. This is not my usual genre but I absolutely adored it.

This collection of short stories is bizarre yet familiar. As you read it, you are transported into an alternate reality that at the same time feels so normal or familiar. In the first story, a family’s international student decides to live in the kitchen cupboards during his stay and collects not the interesting and valuable pieces of the Australian culture, but instead the garbage and “throw away” pieces of life. At the end, he leaves his hosts a wonderful little surprise made with those assorted discards.

Another story — inspired by the cover pictured above — is about a deep sea diver in the old get up showing up in a family’s yard. Unsure what to do with this strange guests, the children deliver him to “Mrs. Bad News,” their neighbor who returns all of their lost toys to them broken. The images are beautiful and the story ends much differently than the children planned.

A couple other stories involve the discovery of hidden worlds within one’s own home and a story about what happens to the poems people write and never do anything with.

Each and every story is beautifully illustrated. This is a book that those who like fairy tales or fantasy, as well as short stories or graphic novels will love. It is part fiction and part graphic novel, as well as part book of art. Tan received a grant from his home country of Australia to complete it, and I think they were smart to let him develop such a unique book. This is a great one for an adult story time or for a family read. I am so eager to get my hands on Tan’s other book, The Arrival, because this one was just so darn good.

I think this is one of those books that proves literacy is so much more than the words on a page. Literacy is also visual, and without the visuals that Tan provides, this book wouldn’t be quite as fun. Although it’s a picture book, I don’t think this is the sort of book the younger crowd would “get” as well as teens and adults would simply because of the importance of the visuals to the stories and because of the sheer (wonderful) absurdity of some of the tales.

So, even if you’re not the traditional graphic novel aficionado, give this one a whirl. It might change your mind … or at least give you an appreciation for the fine art of balancing words and images to weave a set of fun and memorable stories.

Candor by Pam Bachorz

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I took a class in college that spent some time studying the infamous Pullman community, and during the course, we got the opportunity to go down to Pullman and see what remains. I find the idea of the utopian community endlessly fascinating and terrifying, which is precisely why Candor by Pam Bachorz struck me as something I definitely wanted to get my hands on. Thanks to her and the wonderful folks at Egmont, I scored a copy of this book that will be released next week.

Candor, Florida is home to perfection — families wait for years to get into the community that breeds stellar students, happiness, safety, and unparalleled community. Every kid goes to a good college and every kid is well behaved. Why wouldn’t anyone want to be a part of this?

The thing is, they’re being brainwashed by the founder, Campbell Banks. He’s hidden his messages in everything, and everyone is reprogrammed to follow his regiment and ideals. Except, as it seems, his son Oscar.

Even though everyone in Candor things Oscar is the model child, he’s actually got them fooled. For a good price, Oscar will share with other teens how to escape Candor and regain control of their own lives and their own minds.

That is, until Nia arrives and challenges his every power.

As Oscar falls more into obsession with her — because calling it love or romance wouldn’t necessarily be appropriate — his knowledge and his image unravel, as does his own power over the citizens of Candor.

Candor both was and was not what I expected. I really enjoyed the story and the ideas here because they were based on a real premise, but they were twisted in a way to make it unbelievable enough for me as a reader. I found the character development a bit sparse, but when I came to the end of the book, I found this was much to the benefit of the story itself. What I loved was that throughout the entirety of the book, I felt like my own mind was being brainwashed, along with Oscar. As a reader, you have no idea whether or not to believe Oscar. Ultimately, the book becomes a large question about who really has the power in Candor.

Unlike a lot of titles I’ve read lately, Candor was a bit of a slower read for me. Perhaps because I did have to shift my expectations of the book, I kept needing to put it down, digest, then pick it up again. I don’t think, though, teens will be doing this — without the background and paranoia that older readers may bring to the book, teens will devour this and, I think, really come to think about big issues such as privacy, control, and power. What seems like a relatively unrealistic tale becomes more and more chilling because of these layers and themes.

Candor will be a great book to discuss in a book group or in a classroom because of these issues. I am really looking forward to hearing what the teens reading it have to think about it because their perspective is entirely different from my own and, I believe, will breathe some really unique ideas into it. And maybe they’ll have a good idea of who’s really being controlled: the reader, Oscar, or the citizens of Candor. As readers we know Bachorz was inspired to write this after living in Disney’s town, Celebration, Florida. I think this is a title that would go perfectly in a discussion about planned communities, utopias, or even Pullman. While fictional, I think the key issues in the book are going to be relatable on many levels.

Although one of the key plot points that is played up in the jacket blurb is the relationship between Oscar and Nia, I don’t think this is central. In fact, I think that Nia is much more symbolic of many things, including Oscar himself. The relationship/obsession needed to be there to make this clearer for the reader, but the romance itself is merely illusion and illustration. I think Bachorz made a very smart decision in making this more symbol than central.

As an added bonus, Bachorz’s book has a website, as well, right here. After poking around on the site and watching some of the testimonials, I can only imagine it won’t be too long before someone wants to make this one into a full length film. I love the testimonials on the site, and I believe that this is a site a reader should check out before reading the book. It sets a great tone, and it really contributes to the issues of control and power.

Candor will be available September 22. I’ll be eager to talk with other readers about this title because, well, there’s just so much here to discuss. This book is no silo.

Love is the Higher Law by David Levithan

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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.

How to Build a House by Dana Reinhardt

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If you remember my review for Marcelo in the Real World, you’ll know that I had a hard time with the book because I didn’t know the intended audience. For me, intended audience makes a huge difference whether a title is a hit or a miss.

How to Build a House by Dana Reinhardt is one of the books on this year’s Read for a Lifetime list. It’s a concept I think a lot of teen relate to. Harper’s family in Los Angeles is in disarray, and rather than allow herself to be saddened by it all summer, she decides to join a non-religious non-profit program that would allow her to involve herself in a summer-long community service project. More specifically, she’s going to help rebuild a house in Bailey, Tennessee that was destroyed in a major tornado. As someone who’s actually done exactly this, I was so intrigued by the idea and know there are a lot of other people who would love reading about this.

Harper’s dad and step mother are getting a divorce, which is tearing apart the family Harper came to believe was so great. Her sister through the marriage, Tess, was her best friend. Jane, her step mom, was the mother she never had. Things were perfect until her father tore the family apart through an extramarital affair. Harper turned to her best friend Gabriel, who also happened to be a guy she really had a lot of feelings for, and they were mutual feelings. At least that’s what she thought until she saw who Gabriel was kissing one night at a party.

Getting out made sense. And Bailey, Tennessee, was the perfect place to hid out. She’s never going to be known here, and she has no reasons to make any ties. This is the ideal summer project. Oh, and this is also the perfect way for Harper to feel like she’s giving back to the earth us humans are ruining through global warning. Why else would Katrina happen and why else would more and more tornadoes keep happening and destroying people’s lives?

Sure, she’s building a house, but she ends up finding romance with one of the members of the family who will be receiving the house when it’s done.

While How to Build a House sounds sweet and relatable, I found it fell flat on a lot of levels. First, I thought the metaphor was far too obvious and far too drawn out. Yes, the family fell apart like a tornado tore apart the house and it takes team work and communication to rebuild both. Oh, yeah, don’t forget that through team work and communication we can also stop global warming. It was just far. too. much.

I found Harper to be a smug main character. She seems bitter the entire time she’s on the trip, and she’s the one who chose to go. Her discussion of Christian and country music got so irritating because she thought she was so above both of them — and I thought that reiteration of Christian ideas as “bad” was irritating. I’m not sure that’s what Reinhardt intended, but if it was, I don’t think it hit the nail right on nor will the right audience get it. And if it’s not the intention, this is going to turn off many, many readers.

Perhaps my real issue was that this is targeted at the wrong audience. Teens aren’t going to buy this metaphor because it literally hits them far too hard over the head. I almost felt this a bit insulting to the reader. It could have been more smoothly woven or more interestingly developed. The smugness of Harper won’t resonate with readers who just aren’t going to give her a chance. Additionally, while it’s clear no one has a perfect family, I think the “broken family” trope has exhausted its opportunities in the teen lit world, and this is not breaking down any additional barriers. Maybe readers will relate to the sister/best friend relationship.

That said, I think this is a good read for adult audiences looking for something sentimental. That’s not to say this isn’t a worthwhile book; it’s just mismarketed. Even with Harper, the protagonist, as a teenager, I think adults will connect with the idea more because their ideas and ideals of family are more mature. This is the sort of book they can read and reflect upon and really feel connected to. There are a lot of moral ideas discussed here that will resonate with them. The story moves slow, and the metaphor will mean more to those who have literally built a family from the foundation, to the room, to the storm shelter. I don’t think teens can really relate to that.

Overall, I think teens will find some enjoyment in the idea of reaching outside oneself to help others in need, but beyond that, they may find the topic and metaphor overworked and underdeveloped. But handing this one to fans of family-centric or relationship-centric adult titles might be the perfect way to introduce readers to some of the stuff out there marketed for teens that really appeal to adults on a different level.