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The Hero’s Guide to Saving Your Kingdom by Christopher Healy

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I’m really picky about the middle grade books I will read. They need to be smart, not talk down to the reader, and – perhaps above all else – funny. While the YA books I read and love can all be sorts of dark and depressing, I have found that I require humor in middle grade novels. The Hero’s Guide to Saving Your Kingdom has it in spades, plus it’s smart and well-written, so it’s no surprise that I loved it.
The premise is pretty simple: we all know a lot about the princesses from our favorite fairy tales, but how much do we know about the princes? You know, those guys so vaguely-described that we just refer to them all collectively as “Prince Charming.” Healy’s book tells us the stories of four of these Princes Charming (note how the term is pluralized), and it should come as no surprise to you that they don’t all live happily ever with their princesses. Some of them don’t even live with their princesses, period.
The book begins by describing just what scrapes the princes have gotten into that have won them their princesses’ disfavor. These events get all the princes cast out of their homes in disparate kingdoms and, naturally, they eventually run into each other. That’s a good thing, too, since they soon discover that the bards of the various kingdoms have been kidnapped, and it’s up to them to rescue the bards (and their own kingdoms in the process). 
The standout feature here is, obviously, the humor. The princes are all goofballs of different varieties, and their characteristics are clearly exaggerated, but not so much that they become caricatures. The princesses, although they don’t occupy a starring role, are also easy to differentiate and run the gamut from nasty to, well, charming. All the characters have large personalities, and when they collide, it creates an explosion of adventure.
Healy has a lot of fun with traditional fairy tale tropes, poking fun at what we as readers blithely accept in a fairy tale, even though it’s patently ridiculous. He’s also full of some great puns. A certain professional review felt that the premise grew thin and the humor old, but I couldn’t disagree more. This is not a short book and I laughed my way through the entire thing – it’s so clever and fun. It’s a great read for kids who enjoy twisted or re-told fairy tales, particularly those told from “the other guy’s” point of view. It’s also a much-needed bit of levity in a fantasy field that is crowded with the dark and depressing.

Starry River of the Sky by Grace Lin

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I adored Where the Mountain Meets the Moon, Grace Lin’s Newbery honoree, when I read it in 2010. I loved the stories within a story and I especially loved the artwork. Reading the ARC of Starry River of the Sky, its companion book, is both wonderful and sad – wonderful because I get to experience it that much sooner, and sad because the artwork is almost completely missing. I will be sure to pick up a finished copy of the book to pore over the art when it’s released in October.
Rendi is a runaway, but we don’t know from what he runs until much later in the story. He ends up in the Village of Clear Sky and is taken in by an innkeeper as a chore boy, though Rendi is far from grateful for it. At the inn, he meets a motley group of individuals: the innkeeper’s daughter, whom he loves to taunt; the widow next door, who is always arguing with the innkeeper; crazy Mr. Shan, who dines at the inn every day but never stays the night; and the regal Madame Chang, who is much more than what she seems. Of course, in this book, everyone is much more than what they seem.
Each of these characters has stories to tell, which means the style of River mimics that of Mountain – the mostly realistic main story is broken up by fantastical folklore-ish stories. As the book progresses, these shorter tales turn out to have greater meaning for the larger story than initially thought. I love this idea, and I especially love how important it makes the simple act of telling a story. Rendi initially holds back, not wanting to tell stories as the others have. Eventually, though, after a bit of coercion from Madame Chang, he opens up, and that’s when his world begins to change.
Starry River of the Sky is a much quieter book than Mountain. Unlike Mountain, which followed Minli across a country, the main story in River takes place all in one village – and mostly all in one building within that village. This doesn’t make it less interesting, but it’s much less of an adventure story because of it.
I also found the story to be a bit preachier. The lessons Rendi is meant to learn are pretty obvious. It’s not a bad thing for the protagonist to learn something in a novel, I just thought it was more subtly done in Mountain than in River. The lessons Rendi learns in River are more overt,  more obvious. This could just be because I had read Mountain and therefore knew the style going in, but I don’t think that can account for all of what I noticed.
A difference that I did appreciate was Rendi’s attitude at the beginning of the book. Wow, that boy is a brat, and it was very refreshing to read. Usually the true brats are relegated to supporting characters or villains in books, but not here. As the story progresses, we see where the brattiness comes from, and we also see him change gradually. Rendi follows a true character arc.
Despite the differences, fans of the first book will be delighted at this offering, which is entirely Grace Lin and therefore wonderful. I myself am eager to get my hands on the finished copy – this is the kind of book that is so beautiful, it’s worth having your own personal copy.

Review copy received from the publisher. Starry River of the Sky will be released October 2.

Monstrous Beauty by Elizabeth Fama

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Monstrous Beauty is a story set in two time periods. In the late 19th century, naturalist Ezra falls in love with mermaid Syrenka. Their romance sets off a chain of events that ends in tragedy. In the present day, 16 year old Hester decides to investigate the curse that has plagued her family for generations – each woman gives birth to a daughter and dies immediately afterward. The book alternates between the two time periods, and it’s slowly revealed how the past story informs the present one.

The paragraph above greatly simplifies what is actually a very complicated novel. Hester’s family’s curse has its roots in Syrenka’s story, which involves her desire to live as a human with Ezra, the prejudice of the local people in the small Massachusetts town, and the other mermaids, who won’t let Syrenka have her happiness without paying a price. (There are also ghosts, but that didn’t negatively impact my enjoyment of the novel.)

The writing in Monstrous Beauty is mature and lovely, making it the book’s standout feature. It’s clear that Fama took great care in deciding which words to use and when. She’s written a moody, immersive story that creates terrific atmosphere without sacrificing plot to do so. When you combine that level of writing with the complex and layered plot, you’ve got a book that is leagues beyond others of its kind in terms of craft.

The mythology here is something to be celebrated. It’s complicated and usually not very pretty. Some of Fama’s mermaids may be beautiful, but they’re also deadly, with immense physical power (plus sharp teeth and fins that kill). The magic they hold is powerful but also frightening and gruesome, with repercussions that echo for decades. It makes for a pretty dark story (and I mean that in a good way).

Syrenka is an especially intriguing character. She is simultaneously gentle and brutal, not adhering completely to either the mermaids’ sense of morality or that of the humans. Her story is so beautifully tragic that it sometimes overshadows Hester’s. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but it does make Hester’s story the less interesting of the two. Additionally, since the reader gets the past story before Hester figures it out in the present, Hester occasionally seems a bit slow. This is really my only quibble – sometimes Hester’s ignorance went on a bit long and I just wanted her to figure out what I already knew. But otherwise, this is a completely engaging and unique novel.

This book won’t be for everyone. Readers who enjoy fluffy paranormal romances will be disappointed. Monstrous Beauty is not full of happily ever afters, and it’s got some pretty dark stuff in it. But for readers who crave something a little different in their fantasies, who yearn for beautiful writing and a plot that makes them think, Monstrous Beauty is just what they need.

(It is impossible for me to review Monstrous Beauty without mentioning its original cover, which is just a travesty. Suffice to say, Fama’s mermaids would never submit to being photographed for Sports Illustrated. The current cover much more accurately represents the book’s contents.)

Review copy provided by the publisher. Monstrous Beauty will be published September 4.

A pile of contemporary reviews

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I’ve hit a weird reading slump this summer. It’s been really hard to get into anything, and it’s been slow going when I have started something (even if I’ve liked it). I’d say I average between 10 and 15 books a month, but I think in the last two months combined I’ve maybe read 10 books. Since I’m not reading at my usual pace, I’ve also not been reviewing at my usual pace, meaning the things I finished back in early July are still sitting in a pile to be reviewed. Rather than try to write lengthy reviews for each of those titles, I thought I’d tackle a bunch of them at once. All of these are contemporary stories.

Joelle Anthony’s sophomore novel, The Right & The Real tackles one of my favorite topics head on: cults. When Jamie’s father marries Mira, he signs himself over to the church of The Right & The Real. But when Jamie is faced with the decision to sign herself over, she can’t do it — she’s not ready to make the commitment to the church and their beliefs. Even though joining the church was originally her idea, her father’s commitment has her worried and for good reason. Now that she has chosen not to commit, he’s kicked Jamie out of her house.

Jamie is entirely on her own to figure out her life now without her dad and without the church to back her up. Not to mention her long-time boyfriend Josh, who got her into the church in the first place, has also ditched her. As much as Jamie believes that she can go this on her own and make it work, she also misses her father terribly and worries that the church is ruining all they had as a family.

The Right & The Real was a great premise, though I didn’t necessarily find the execution as strong as I wanted it to be. The challenge for me was that the story begins immediately, with little exploration into the cult itself or what makes it such a bad place to be (aside from being a cult, that is). Because I couldn’t know what the threat was from within, I couldn’t place what the threat was externally, either. It was challenging for me to develop an emotional connection with Jamie or for me to understand her fear and terror. So while I was on her side and worried about her well-being — particularly because she was in a desperate place figuring out basic means of survival — it was hard for me to grasp what it was that worried her about her father, about Josh, and about the ramifications of being cast out from the group.

More frustrating, though, was Jamie’s insistence upon entering relationships and being saved by someone other than herself. Jamie is a strong female character — she has to be in order to make such a life-altering choice as to not join the cult — but she is fixated on the broken relationship she has with Josh. But it’s not just that; she quickly develops a relationship with another boy, Trent, who ultimately is the hero in the story. And when they share a moment near the end, it felt to me like it was his ownership of her and of the situation that brought resolution to the story and Jamie herself is secondary.

Anthony’s writing in the story is good, as is the pacing and there is no doubt that despite the flaws that kept this from being a knock out for me, there will be a great readership for The Right & The Real. Fans of Holly Cupala, particularly Don’t Breathe a Word will enjoy this, as will those readers who enjoy other cult-centric stories, such as Carol Lynch Williams’s The Chosen One and Michele Green’s Keep Sweet. What was maybe most interesting to me about Anthony’s book is that unlike other books that explore the cult culture, The Right & The Real is a story from the outside, rather than from the inside. Even though it made for challenges I talked about earlier, it stands out from the crowd because of this. Anthony’s book is available now.

One of my all-time favorite novels is Jenna Blum’s The Stormchasers (reviewed here) and when I saw the description for Lara Zielin’s The Waiting Sky, I noticed immediate similarities and was sold.

Jane’s mother is an alcoholic, and after a particularly horrific incident involving her mother, a car, and Jane’s best friend, Jane knows she needs to get out and away, at least for a short time, to reassess what it is she needs in her life. Yes, she’s 17 and even though it sounds somewhat absurd for her to have that sort of maturity about her own life, it makes sense. Jane’s brother left years ago, moving from their home in Minnesota down to the southern plains to become a tornado chaser. She’s going to spend the summer with him, learning the skills of the trade. It’s her opportunity to feel like she has some sort of control over her life. I probably don’t need to explain the metaphor there, but it is there, and it’s not some sort of hypothetical. Jane really becomes a storm chaser, but this is a story that’s light on the storm chasing and a lot stronger on the rebuilding a world that’s collapsed beneath the weight of a storm.

After a particularly strong tornado in Nebraska, Jane and the crew stick around to help clean up the damage. Of course, there’s also a budding relationship between Jane and a guy from a rivaling chasing team, Max. What I appreciated was that their interactions were short, were meaningful, but ultimately, both of them knew there wasn’t a whole lot more that could emerge between them. Here’s where I can employ another reference to the metaphor of the storm and how it can cause for high emotions in short bursts and leave people with what they need in the end.

As much as I liked Jane in the story — and let me say that she’s likeable but she is a deeply flawed character who makes a lot of questionable choices that really hammer that home — I found myself more invested in Victor’s story. He’s one of the fellow storm chasers, but he is terrified of storms. The only reason he keeps doing it is for his brother’s sake. Zielin weaves in a nice thread here, in that Victor’s dedication to living in fear/worry about storm chasing to make his brother happy is similar to how Jane herself gave up her freedoms and ability to live for herself in dealing with her alcoholic mother. But I do question how the heck Victor can hate the movie Twister. It’s a classic.

The Waiting Sky will appeal to readers who love contemporary stories, particularly those delving into families, friendships, and the meaning of each and both. There’s a lot to appreciate in this and it felt very different and fresh in approach, though I found some of the writing and references to be a little stilted and dated. For the plot and for Jane as a character, I was willing to overlook those issues. The ending is a little convenient, but it did not kill the rest of what made the book work. Anyone who enjoyed Twister or enjoys the idea of storm chasing will want to track this one down. The Waiting Sky is available now. Readers who dig this one and are looking for something similar and/or something more literary will be eager to then look into Blum’s The Stormchasers.

Hannah Harrington’s sophomore novel, Speechless, has one of the coolest covers, I think. It’s so stark that it ends up being very bold and I think it’ll stand out because of that. Apologies for how vague this review is going to be, but I don’t want to spoil the big reveal.

Chelsea Knot was part of the popular crowd, and she enjoys her time at the top. But when she stumbles upon a situation at a party and tells her friends, the person at the center of the situation becomes a victim not just of Chelsea opening her mouth, but of an attack initiated via her loose lips. The moment Chelsea realizes her gossiping is the reason for the violence, she takes a vow of silence. Except it’s not just a vow of silence she ends up taking — Chelsea becomes outcast from her popular friends and finds herself completely alone and without anyone to confide in. If she had anything to confide, that is (she does — she just won’t).

Speechless follows as Chelsea learns who she can and cannot trust, and as could be expected, it’s not who she thought it was. Everything she thought she knew about the cool and the not-cool kids ends up being untrue and Chelsea finds herself befriending new people who are truly there for her. In the end, she has the chance to face the person whose entire life changed because of her decision to talk at the party and it’s then she comes to realize how important those issues of trust and friendship are.

It sounds like a sweet story, but it’s not. It’s rough and gritty, and Chelsea is subjected to torment and bullying. Relentlessly, even. The problem for me, though, was that this was never once Chelsea’s story. It was Noah’s — he’s the guy at the center of the secret she divulges. His story is so lost in the book because the focus and attention is on Chelsea, and maybe it’s because I’m an adult reading this, I felt like she didn’t deserve the attention of the story because she’d already gotten too much attention anyway. In fact, Chelsea’s vow of silence and behavior following the horrible thing she did felt like a huge cry for more attention and pity, where I felt like Noah, the real victim here, deserved it way more than she did. That’s not to say she ever deserved the bullying she got — she didn’t — but I was much more invested in Noah’s well-being than Chelsea’s. For me, she got in the way of the story, despite being the catalyst for it.

Harrington knows how to write teens, though, and there’s no doubt in my mind this book will appeal to them. While reading Speechless, I was reminded of Courtney Summers’s Some Girls Are in terms of the bullying/abuse inflicted upon characters, of Laurie Halse Anderson’s Speak, in terms of the hows and whys of Chelsea’s silence, and maybe I was reminded most of Molly Backes’s The Princesses of Iowa in terms of how the issues of sexuality and popularity and rumor-spreading all interweave. Readers who appreciated those stories will want to check this one out, though I think it pales in comparison to any and all of those. Speechless will be available August 28.

Review copies of all titles provided by the publishers.

Under the Never Sky by Veronica Rossi

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Aria has been exiled from Reverie, one of the environmentally-sealed pods that protect the people in her society from the outside world. Cast into the “Death Shop,” as they call the outside world, she expects to die quickly, her body unused to the disease and climate. Fortunately, she runs into Perry, an Outsider – a savage to Aria, initially – who has his own reasons for helping Aria to survive. The two form an alliance, agreeing to help each other to achieve their own goals.    
With Under the Never Sky, Rossi has given her readers a stellar example of a commercial dystopia. It’s got a great hook, a fast-paced plot, two protagonists you can’t help but root for, and interesting world-building. Rossi has got some great stuff going on here – super-charged senses, crazy aether storms that resemble lightning storms but are way cooler (and more terrifying), a complex society on the outside and an alluring but also ominous society on the inside.
The story is told in Aria and Perry’s alternating third person,
past-tense perspectives. Rossi is quite good at getting the reader into
both of these characters’ heads without having to resort to a shift in
typeface or some other cheat. Unlike many dual perspective narratives,
it was easy to tell whose “story” was being told, even when both
characters were occupying the same pages. The chapter headings – “Aria”
or “Perry” – were almost unnecessary.
I liked that the world wasn’t explained in a giant infodump, although Aria and Perry do fill each other in on certain things at points. I like being able to figure out as I go what the author has done here that is new – it assumes some intelligence on the part of the reader and is all the more exciting because the author isn’t holding my hand while I read.
I can’t talk about this book without talking about the romance. Under the Never Sky isn’t primarily a romance, but the romantic subplot is strong and it is good. Rossi knows how to write a good love story. Aria and Perry start out pretty antagonistic toward each other, but even the densest reader will know their feelings will eventually blossom into love. And when they do, it is believable and pretty intense. Nothing is described in a whole lot of detail, but there’s enough there that teenage me would have dog-eared the heck out of those pages. 
There were some things I wasn’t wild about. Rossi is overly fond of the “fragment as emphasis” tactic. A couple times in a novel works; a couple times in a chapter is overkill. It brought me out of the story sometimes and seemed sloppy. I still think the title is hokey, and both the US and UK versions of the cover are kind of terrible, the UK version particularly so (although neither of those things are necessarily the author’s doing). Overall, though, this is a really solid book that stands out from others in its subgenre. I’m excited for the sequel (the somewhat painfully titled Through the Ever Night).