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12 Of My Favorite Books of 2018

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I read an unbelievable amount of great books this year. As I begin brainstorming this post of favorites from 2018, I’m at nearly 200 books read. Engaging in audiobook listening, which I wrote about earlier this year, really added more reading to my life, especially in the way of adult nonfiction. Winnowing down my favorites from this year was a challenge because the more I read, the more I’m better able to only read books I suspect I’m going to like. At the end of the year, having enjoyed nearly 200 books? Makes picking just a few really tough.

My criteria for favorites isn’t scientific or brilliant. Rather, these are books that stood out to me for one reason or another and that I wanted to highlight as ones worth remembering as among my best reads. I’ve stuck to books published this year, since I could easily add dozens more when I look at backlist titles I read this year.

Along with audiobooks playing a significant part in my reading life this year, I’ve once again utilized the amazing spreadsheet one of my Book Riot colleagues created. This allowed me to really see the landscape of my reading life in new and useful ways. I don’t use every functionality it offers, choosing instead to customize and pay attention to the things that matter most to me. I also make a lot of notes in the final column, especially in regards to interesting aspects of a book that wouldn’t mean much in a review but could be useful for me in writing or recommending specific titles for readers.

Some of the notes below are ones I shared on Goodreads while others are fresh, reflective insights months after finishing the books. Some are longer, some are shorter, but all of these books are ones that I’ll remember as highlights from my 2018 year in reading.

 

All That I Can Fix by Crystal Chan

Ronney is 15, and he’s got a lot of baggage to carry around. While he loves his family — his little sister in particular — he’s utterly frustrated and angry with his father. His father attempted suicide two years ago, and since, everyone in the family has carried the weight of what they saw in the aftermath. Father doesn’t work and rarely leaves home. It looks like he’s not moving forward at all.

Then there’s Ronney’s best friends George and Jello. Turns out, even though Ronney has a little bit of a crush on George, she’s been secretly dating Jello. Both have been lying to Ronney about this.

And then there’s the kid who is stalking him. Begging for his jeans. What young kid follows you and begs for your jeans? It’s one of Mina’s friends, whose older brother went missing. Those jeans? They’re the product of his family sending everything of his brother’s to the resale shop. Ronney and the boy develop a bond, despite Ronney’s best efforts not to. The goal? Find Nick, the older brother, who had an alcohol problem and ran away from home to avoid an abusive father.

That’s not everything though.

A backyard zoo full of animals escaped during a major storm, and cheetahs, camels, pythons, and more are on the loose. Oh, and then the gun control advocates and gun rights advocates are in town, too. Each jockeying for stage during this animal outbreak.

In many ways, this book reminded me of John Corey Whaley’s Where Things Come Back. But the voice in this book is really what stands out. Ronney is full of love and compassion, but he’s also very angry and very hurt by those he cares most about. He’s young and carrying so much pain inside him that it’s impossible not to understand where his attitude and behaviors come from. But at the same time, it’s impossible not to want to shake him and tell him let go and move on.

What resonated most for me was the way this book looks at depression from the point of view of an outsiders. Ronney is angry with his dad and doesn’t understand why he doesn’t “do” anything. Why he tried to hurt his family. Meanwhile, in the moments when we see dad, we’re given insight into how hard he really is trying to be better. Even when he can’t be because his illness is in charge.

There is a lot of smart and at times snarky commentary about race, about small town life, and about the current political climate throughout the book, but it’s all written in a way a 15-year-old boy would look at those things. More, Ronney’s feelings about relationships and romance are all spot on, and they serve as a nice contrast to those big-picture challenges.

 

 

The Astonishing Color of After by Emily XR Pan

There is not a single thing in this book I did not love. The lush writing. The use of color. The exploration of family secrets and stories. Of culture. Or belief.

But the thing that hit hardest was the way depression is rendered. This is a book about grief in the wake of suicide that comes from a depressive episode (or series of them, in this instance). There is no “reason” here. There’s no boogeyman moment, wherein we get the why of suicide. Rather, we’re forced, like Leigh is, to wrestle with the lack of answers. We’re forced to understand not everything makes sense. That magical thinking is both a good thing — when it can help you work through grief, when it can help you find the things you’re looking for, the dreams you want to achieve — and a bad thing — when you believe what it is your brain tells you about your worth and value.

I’m going to hold on to this for a long, long time. One of the best YA books I’ve read this year, and certainly one of the best I’ve read in a long time. Perfect for fans of Nova Ren Suma or Laura Ruby. Our main character is a Taiwanese/Chinese American girl, and her story involves a trip to Taiwan to meet her grandparents for the first time.

But it is so, so much more than that.

 

Creative Quest by Questlove

I listened to this title on audiobook after poring over it in a local Barnes & Noble. I didn’t buy it in print that day, choosing instead to pick up a few other books. But I used my audible credit to try it on audio and frankly, that was the better decision.

This is a book about creativity, and the way it was performed aurally was outstanding. It was a piece of art. It takes risks and chances, which is one of the key takeaways of the book. It’s okay to try and to fail and to try without any end goal in mind.

So what’s it about? It’s about the creative process. About how there’s no single way to get it right when it comes to being creative. It’s about the ways famous and less-famous creatives have worked, have thrived, and have had down times. It’s inspiring and heartening, and it’s the kind of book that actually encourages, rather than discourages, since there thrust of the book is that there’s no one way to get it right. Too many books about creativity and art focus on what works and how to work that way for maximum productivity. This one isn’t that — it’s about the ugly stuff, too.

I know little about Questlove, and that didn’t matter one bit. He shares pieces of his own experiences that makes his story universal, regardless of the level of success or talent towards which one may aim.

 

Dare To Lead by Brene Brown

Brown is one of the best thinkers on leadership and confidence, and this book is no different. There are strategies here for being a better person, for developing empathy (which is a wonderfully deep section in the book — a lengthy discussion of empathy vs. sympathy helps conceptually define the two ideas and showcases actions that define each). I’m a big believer that part of success comes from understanding people are people, and Brown’s big mantra throughout the book is “people, people, people.” Everyone has a story and everyone’s minds make up stories to help them get through the day. When we remember this simple thing, it becomes easier to be a leader and to be an advocate for what it is you want, what you need, and where you fit into the grander scheme of your life. Because this book isn’t about leadership in organizations only; sure that’s there. But it’s a book about being a leader in your life and showing up, day after day, for yourself.

Maybe my favorite of hers so far. It incorporates a lot of what research she did in previous books but adds even more depth to them. I also enjoyed being reminded to reconsider what my core values are and I’m itching to get into her worksheets to suss those out. We all operate from a set (and yes, SET) of core values and when we can remember them, we can show up for ourselves again and again.

Brown reads the audio and performs it less like a stiff reader and more like she’s giving a TED talk or having a conversation with a group of people in an organization. There are good breaks and laughs, and I just really like hearing these ideas and seeing what sticks from the verbal explanation. I’m eager to revisit this in a year or so in print and read it with pen in hand.

 

 

Darius The Great Is Not Okay by Adib Khorram

Perhaps the closest novel I’ve read which captures my own feelings and experiences living with depression. But even more than that: this book is just freaking great.

Darius has always felt like the wrong piece of a puzzle. His dad is white and not like him at all. His mom is Iranian, but she’s fair skinned and doesn’t “look” Persian. Though he doesn’t look like his heritage, Darius is an outsider because people know he’s “not like them” in his Portland school. When his mother’s dad is nearing the end of his life, the family chooses to take a trip to Iran to reconnect. And it’s here where Darius really comes to understand he is an important piece of the puzzle in her family, in his community, and in the bigger world. Sohrab, the new friend-more-than-a-friend Darius makes in Iran, calls this what translates from Farsi into “your place was empty,” and that sentiment really resonated not only for Darius and his place in the world, but also, his place inside himself.

The relationship that develops between Darius and Sohrab is powerful and moving. It’s a best friendship, but it’s also something more. It’s not a physical romance, but there’s absolutely an emotionally romantic part of it for both of them, even if we only see it through Darius’s eyes. It was hard not to root for them through and through.

This book reminded me of a blend of Here to Stay and All That I Can Fix — two excellent books out this year that deal with race and culture, as well as feeling like an odd shaped puzzle piece (and ATICF also takes on mental illness and the way it can challenge a father/son relationship, while HTS has a similar flavor of humor as this title).

An outstanding read and unbelievable debut novel. Can’t wait for more from Khorram.

 

Devils Unto Dust by Emma Berquist

This book ticked every one of my boxes by description and then delivered on each.

Set in west Texas in 1877, the story follows Willie (real name: Daisy, but that’s too dainty for her) as she has to find her father, as he’s stolen a load of money from McAlister. McAlister promises revenge if that money is not returned.

The thing is: no one steps out of Glory alone. Outside of the gates are the shakes. The shakes are hungry, vicious, and will turn you into one of them in an instant. Willie has little money, but needs to hire herself a hunter to help her track down her father in another town. Enter the Garrett brothers.

Willie leaves behind her brother and twin brother and sister as she goes, but not for long. Micah can’t stand the idea of her venturing alone, even with the hunters, and he, along with neighbor Sam, catch up with the crew on the journey.

Enter the shakes.

Berquist’s first novel is the perfect blend of western and horror. The pitch “True Grit” meets “28 Days Later” is absolutely spot on. From page one, I was riveted and loved the entire arc of Willie’s story and character. The exploration of grief and guilt is thoughtful and thought-provoking, particularly as Willie sees herself to blame for a lot of the mess that occurs. Saying more would be a spoiler, of course.

The writing is pitch perfect, with descriptions of desolation in the desert palpable. Every minute I was not reading this, I was thinking about it and thinking about Willie.

Bonus: there is not a romance in this book. Sure, there’s a kinship that emerges between Sam and Willie at the end, but we know nothing more will be coming of it.

And then there’s what happens when they find Pa and ask him what happened to that money. And what happens when they return to Glory to face McAlister again.

Mega appeal to fans of westerns, of zombie stories, and to books that are fast paced and action-packed (but without making your head spin). The 500 pages speed by, and it’s a stand alone, perfectly contained read.

 

Dream Country by Shannon Gibney

This is an incredible story of a family impacted by the African diaspora. The book is told in a non-linear fashion, as seen through the eyes of one of the contemporary members of the family. We begin in today’s Minneapolis area with a boy named Kollie, whose parents send him back to the land from where he was a refugee — Liberia. From there, we travel back to family that grew up in Liberia, then back even further to family which had been indentured servants in the US prior to the Civil War; their freedom came when they left the US and headed back to Liberia. We move, then, to the parents of Kollie and what they endured in Liberia.

What’s remarkable about this book, aside from the heartache and hope seen through the characters, is the history that we never learn about. Gibney’s extraordinary research (& powerful author’s note) explain how when black freed people went back to Liberia, they brought with them the same tools used against them to harm, enslave, and colonize the native Liberians. This book shows that through this family.

I couldn’t stop thinking about pairing this book with Homegoing. Like with Gyasi’s book, some characters will resonate more than others for readers; I found Kollie and Angel’s stories (especially her’s, despite being the smallest part — done purposefully) to be the most compelling. Note that some of the characters are a bit beyond their teen years, and in many ways, this book read to me as less YA and more adult. That doesn’t mean YA readers won’t love it, but rather, it’d be an awesome and easy sell to adult readers, too.

Powerful, moving, vital, and one that is going to mean a LOT to a lot of readers.

 

The Feather Thief by Kirk W. Johnson

I loved every single second of this true crime book about a man who becomes so obsessed with fly-tying that he breaks into a museum to steal their rare birds to sell the feathers for profit. The premise of this sounds like it might be boring, but it’s anything but. Johnson’s attention to details and passion for cracking the mystery of the still-missing birds is propulsive, and the way this looks at a very specific community’s passion — in this case, the fly-tying community’s passion for very specific bird feathers — was fascinating. There’s a lot here, too, about ethics and about the ways people throughout history have sought what’s not theirs, starting with how those birds and feathers ended up in the British Museum of Natural History in the first place.

Highly recommended, especially for readers who want to love true crime but can get put off by blood, guts, and human death. None of that is here!

The images in this one, tucked near the back of the narrative, added a ton. I was surprised to see images of Edwin himself, who wasn’t at all what I expected (like Johnson himself had said just pages earlier), and seeing what these fly-ties looked like and the birds that drew such lust from those hobbyists made the crime all that more fascinating.

 

Girls Burn Brighter by Shobha Rao

I wrote about this one over on Book Riot’s Best Books of 2018!

This is about friendship: the fierce, fiery kind of friendship that exists between two girls who understand their place in the world as girls, their place in society as girls in India of a lower class, their place in society as girls who can only rely and depend upon one another. Savitha and Poornima only spend a small portion of the book together, but it’s the spark between them that keeps them connected through tragic event after tragic event.

What I loved most is what they carried of one another inside them. Poornima saw Savitha as the brave, self-assured girl, but in the end, Poornima pulls that same energy to find Savitha again, who has found herself in a situation not unlike the one Poornima was in during her marriage. Lost. Adrift. Alone.

Great writing and great voices really make this one sing. Not a YA book, but it likely has some great YA crossover appeal to readers eager for a book set primarily outside of America — it’s India for over half of the book — about female friendship.

 

Give Me Your Hand by Megan Abbott

Secrets go many, many ways, and Abbott explores this in her deliciously dark, twisted prose. Kit and Diane form a quick bond, but when Diane drops a bombshell secret on Kit, Kit distances herself. Until, that is, many years later, when Diane is back in her life. The two of them, once great lab partners and excellent science students in high school, earn prestigious places on a research project about PMDD with a renowned scholar.

Kit can’t be lured back in, but she is. The secret she knows still swirling inside her. The secret she knows that she’s not always kept secret, but that’s led to more secrets. The way secrets can spiral out of control, just like that. The way friendships sometimes turn toxic, but you’re too drawn in to turn away without consequences. Without a body count.

Two complex female leads, neither of whom are particularly “likable” nor “good,” Abbott’s prose sears and her storytelling is compulsively engaging. I’d have read this in a single sitting if I hadn’t had to do things like work.

Excellent crossover appeal for young adult readers and something that fans of Gillian Flynn will love.

 

A Heart In A Body In The World by Deb Caletti

*Spoiler on this one! But the spoiler is a big reason why this book resonated with me, so I’m keeping it there.

An all-too-timely feminist YA novel about the ways toxic masculinity harms each and every one of us. Annabelle has been victim of a controlling boy who believes she belongs to him and only him and she’s triggered in an incident months after his attack at a party. To clear her head and try to do something, she begins to run. And suddenly, she decides her goal is to run from Seattle to Washington, DC. She has no real plan but knows this is deeply what she needs and what she wants.

Along the way, Annabelle connects deeply with her grandfather, who follows along in an RV. She connects deeply with the country and the people populating it. There’s a fantastic scene in Marengo, Illinois, just minutes from where I live, and the love and heart there was so palpable.

This is a tough-to-read book because it’s too real. Caletti populates the book with such authentic, well-rounded characters, even the smallest ones throughout. It’s a book that girls today will relate to deeply and intensely. They shouldn’t have to.

As much as this is a book about tough things and real life and how awful the world is, it’s also a book complete with hope and humanity.

I just attended a Florence and the Machine concert, and one of the things Florence said during the show was that hope is an action. I couldn’t stop thinking about that line throughout this. Annabelle takes action on a physical, spiritual, and mental level. But her actions, as small as she feels they are (she doesn’t think her run is a big deal or anything special), have this massive ripple effect on the world around her. She takes back her power.

A great look at mental health, too, including anxiety and PTSD. There is no resolution. There is only working your way through, day by day.

 

The Seven Torments of Amy and Craig by Don Zolidis

This is the epitome of the kind of love story I love in YA: there’s an ending that feels utterly deserved and that you’re told right away would happen (it’s not a romance with a capital R), and both of the characters have good and not-so-good qualities to them. Zolidis tells this story in a nonlinear fashion, taking us from the middle of Amy and Craig’s rocky relationship, then to the beginning, and then through to the end. We see both characters become well-fleshed, and we see their flaws in powerful ways.

Craig is funny, and throughout, his humor shines through. It doesn’t feel forced nor does it feel fake. This is a dude who really loves Amy but also knows he’s imperfect and immature and in a family that’s struggling financially, so some of his plans for the future are in question. Amy is adopted, and one of the through lines in the story is about her close relationship with her adoptive mother, as well as her toying with the idea of connecting with her birth mother.

The book is set in Janesville, Wisconsin, which is a community I’m really familiar with. It’s spot on in describing things and for hitting real great Wisconsin humor (the Perkins! The cow! Parker Pens and their layoffs! The GM plant!). It also is a love story to gaming and D&D, which began just a few miles down the road from Janesville and it also highlights Gen Con, back when Gen Con was still in Milwaukee (but after Lake Geneva, of course!). It was refreshing to see this all through Craig’s eyes, especially, because I knew so many people who grew up in Janesville not too many years after this story is set, and I know how much it rings true.

The dialog here is great, and both characters feel like actual teens. Zolidis writes plays for high school performers, and his eye for staging, for speech, and for mannerisms shines through.

Pass along to readers who like love stories told in non-linear ways, who love books with a funny male protagonist at the helm, and who like a book that makes them laugh and feel sadness throughout. It’s set in the 1990s, so it’s one that’ll appeal to readers who love that setting. It reminded me a big of A SHORT HISTORY OF THE GIRL NEXT DOOR, which would be a nice pairing. Readers who pick this up and love and/or are fascinated by the setting would do well with reading JANESVILLE, which highlights things like GM and the Parker Pen company and their role in building Janesville to being what it is; it’ll also give insight into the off-handed comments Craig makes, particularly about how Janesville is very white (it is, and that’s by racist design).

 

Black Wings Beating by Alex London

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A great thing about being a panelist or judge for the Cybils award is that you end up reading and enjoying a lot of books you may not have picked up otherwise. Black Wings Beating by Alex London is one of them. It’s about falconry, which I can’t say is a topic that interests me normally, but it’s not really about falconry. It’s a unique fantasy with compelling narrators that does a lot of creative things in terms of both plot and world-building.

In the Six Villages in the country of Uztar, falconry is more than just a sport: the people revere the magnificent birds of prey, and a religion has even developed around their worship. The story is told in not-quite-alternating chapters by teenage twins Brysen and Kylee, who run a falconry business together since their father died a few years ago hunting the Ghost Eagle, a prized bird that would have brought wealth to the family. They don’t miss their father much; he routinely beat Brysen for not being an acceptable son, and Kylee feels insurmountable guilt for not being able to do enough to protect her brother. Kylee hopes to give up falconry once they make enough money; she’s gifted at the sport, but hates it. Brysen loves falconry, and while he has grown good from practice, his natural talent doesn’t match Kylee’s, which causes friction between the siblings.

When Brysen learns that his falconry teacher and sometimes-boyfriend has made a deal with the cruel de facto rulers of the town to capture the Ghost Eagle, Brysen decides to undertake the quest in his place in order to save his life. Kylee eventually follows, and the journey will take them deep into treacherous mountains where the most dangerous thing may not even be the Ghost Eagle itself.

The basic storyline (a quest to find something valuable) will be very familiar to fantasy readers, but the elements the twins encounter on the quest are what sets this book above much of its brethren. The mountain setting is vividly drawn, both its beauty and its hardships. A community of women called the Owl Mothers live within the mountains, and London’s depiction of this matriarchal society – neither traditionally “good” nor “bad” – is creative and thought-provoking. Along the journey, the twins find out more about the night their father died, and learn that each had been keeping secrets from the other. Their relationship is close but not stereotypically “we’re twins so we’re always on each other’s wavelength” close. During one particularly tense argument, London shows how these two people fiercely love each other even while intentionally hurting each other sometimes.

I loved the world London created, which provides many different conflicts that Brysen and Kylee have to tackle. Aside from the Ghost Eagle, the world itself provides additional conflict for the twins. In response to the religion that worships the birds (which their mother belongs to), another sect has arisen that views birds of prey as evil and their worshipers as people to be converted or killed. An occasional chapter is written from one of these people’s perspectives as he marches closer and closer to the Six Villages, intent on violence. Kylee’s natural talents with falconry are magic-based, and she runs into people who want to use her for their own ends. Others who want to capture the Ghost Eagle are on the hunt, too, and there are people within the mountain with nebulous motives who may also do the protagonists harm. London ratchets up the tension so well, I didn’t want to stop listening to the audiobook.

Brysen is gay and open about it, and there’s an interesting and sweet mini-romance between him and another boy they find on the mountain. Queer people seem to be the norm in the Six Villages, with the only prejudice against Brysen’s sexuality coming from his father (who never uses slurs, but indicates that Brysen isn’t “manly enough” when he beats him). There are indications that Kylee is asexual/aromantic, but I can’t be sure from context.

I was especially impressed by the way London wrote his ancillary characters. Brysen and Kylee are deftly characterized with two distinctive voices (expertly performed by Michael Crouch and Brittany Pressley), but so are all the minor characters: Brysen’s love interest, the leader of the Owl Mothers, even the sister of the ruling despot who shows up midway through the novel and has only a few lines. Since we meet everyone through either Brysen or Kylee’s point of view, our opinions of people shift and grow as their perspectives do. What once had seemed like a rescuer turns into a captor, and just when we’ve decided the captor is unredeemable, London provides another facet to them that makes us reassess yet again. Real people are like this, too: motivated by a variety of factors (both selfless and not) that are not apparent upon first acquaintance. This is a deep novel with deep characters and a story that will keep teens on the edge of their seats; the sequel can’t come fast enough.

 

This Mortal Coil by Emily Suvada

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Catarina Agatta lives in a future world where every human has a “panel” that controls their genes, giving them the ability to recode their DNA. The programs to alter human DNA have to be coded by master code-writers and hackers – it’s not something that just anyone can do. Catarina is a master though; she takes after her father, Lachlan, a scientist who was kidnapped by the evil organization Cartaxus two years ago. Cartaxus keeps their own programs under copyright, including most importantly those that cure diseases. They’re hoping Lachlan will be able to code a vaccine for the latest disease that’s crippling humanity, one that makes humans go into “the wrath” and kill each other mindlessly, right before they literally explode. Catarina is left to survive on her own, eating those with the disease for immunity, refusing to enter a Cartaxus settlement that protects its residents from the disease because she has unauthorized code in her body, code that saves her life but would be stripped by Cartaxus. But then a young Cartaxus agent named Cole arrives, and he says he’s been sent by Lachlan to help Catarina unlock the key to the vaccine – and everything goes to hell in a handbasket after that (and you thought things were already bad).

There’s a lot going on in this book, and the synopsis above only gets at a portion of it. This is one of those books where it’s best to just strap yourself in and go along for the ride. It’s full of twists and turns, with a whopper of a reveal near the end that took me completely by surprise but in retrospect was carefully planned and executed by Suvada. I always appreciate a well-plotted novel, and this is a great example: readers should pay careful attention to every detail Suvada drops, because it may be important later on. This Mortal Coil also feels more cutting-edge than any of the other futuristic sci-fi novels I’ve read recently. I can’t think of another book for teens that uses the mapping of the human genome and subsequent gene editing (with tools like CRISPR) as a major plot point. It’s fascinating to me, in part because it’s just entering the mainstream conversation, and in part because the possibilities (practical and story-wise) seem endless. Tech like this makes me feel like I’m living in the future; Emily Suvada brought it to life. Whether her vision of what gene editing can actually do is realistic or not remains to be seen, and is a question perhaps best left to scientists. But it does make for a good story.

I liked Catarina as a protagonist. She’s smart and reacts realistically to every obstacle thrown at her (and there are many). There’s a romance that develops between her and Cole, which feels natural and unforced. The twist near the end gives it greater depth while simultaneously adding to its complications. Catarina is also a human teenager, though, despite her extraordinary intelligence. She’s easily led by the bad guys (and just who the bad guys are is not always clear), feels the betrayal of her loved ones keenly, and sometimes acts in a way that is not in her best interest out of fear or stubbornness.

While the book isn’t perfect (it meanders sometimes in the middle, the gene-coding aspects are not always well-explained), it’s a cut above most other recent apocalyptic/post-apocalyptic stories, particularly those featuring a plague. The gene-coding angle is not one that’s been done in this way before, and the twisty plot will keep readers hooked. This is one to seek out.

 

Not Even Bones by Rebecca Schaeffer

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Nita’s mother captures and kills unnaturals – supernatural beings with special abilities or powers – and sells their parts, which can pass down powers of their own, on the black market. Nita doesn’t do the killing; her job is to dissect the bodies and prepare the parts for sale. She tells herself it’s OK because she’s not actually killing anyone. And the unnaturals her mother kills and sells are dangerous anyway. Mostly. It helps her feel less guilty about how much she enjoys dissecting these beings, which are mostly just humans with a few tweaks. But then her mother brings home a live unnatural, whom she plans to cut up while he’s still living, and Nita has to make a choice. The choice she makes has catastrophic consequences: she ends up sold on the black market, her own unnatural ability to heal herself revealed. And her captors plan to sell her off, piece by piece, to buyers who think eating bits of her will make them immortal.

When it comes to horror, I’m much more likely to read books for teens than adults. I’m a bit squeamish (no horror movies for me at all!), and I find that YA horror novels usually have the right amount of scares for me. Rebecca Schaeffer did her best to prove me wrong – Not Even Bones is pretty gruesome, and it doesn’t shy away from describing in detail how the parts for sale become detached from the body itself, and what people do with the parts once they buy them. It’s definitely on the edge of what I can handle. But it’s so well done, I enjoyed it a lot anyway. The book is essentially an escape plot, and it’s fast-paced and exciting, with twists I didn’t see coming. Schaeffer’s also a great world-builder. The market lives and breathes (often literally), bringing home the horror of the concept. She also does a good job of extrapolating her concept to the details: how attempts to protect unnaturals go awry and corruption sets in, how unnaturals use their abilities in creative ways large and small, the often ineffective and cruel ways unnaturals are used by others.

Nita is a great protagonist. She walks the line between hero and anti-hero, struggling with her own sense of morality. She must do things she never thought she would or could in order to escape, crossing several lines she had drawn for herself. Combine these actions with the opposing facts that Nita both enjoyed enabling her mother’s actions as well as freed her last victim, and readers will see that Nita is a complex and difficult character. Schaeffer introduces a sometimes-enemy, sometimes-ally of Nita’s in the character of Kovit, an unnatural called a zanny who must eat human pain to live. He has his own struggles with his morality that compare with Nita’s: he, too, enjoys his “work,” which in this case is torturing people. Zannies get intense pleasure from the kind of feeding they’re required to do. But he’s also capable of extreme acts of selflessness. Readers will find themselves questioning the degrees of moral difference between Nita and Kovit – and if there is any difference at all. This is a good pick for teens who don’t mind (or seek out!) some gore in their horror.

A Few Cybils Reads – Part I (Necromancy Edition)

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Give the Dark My Love by Beth Revis

Nedra has been given a scholarship to attend Yugen Academy, where she plans to train as a medicinal alchemist. The northern part of the country, where Nedra lives, has been overrun by a plague that kills almost everyone it touches, and while Nedra’s family has remained safe from it so far, she knows the people who govern the country don’t have much interest in saving the lives of the poor northerners. The rich believe the plague is caused by bad hygiene. Nedra is determined to find a cure, and she finds a mentor in one of the teachers at the school. Even as they get closer to the truth about the plague, Nedra starts experimenting with necromancy, strictly forbidden by the law not only because it’s considered unnatural, but also because of what the practice of it does to the necromancer. But necromancy, Nedra believes, is the key to understanding the plague, which begins as necrosis of the limbs before making its way to the heart, where it kills.

The book alternates between Nedra’s perspective and that of her friend Grey, another student at the school. Grey is the son of a politician, a powerful man who pulls Grey into the city’s political machinations. There are rumblings of revolution: many people on the colony of Lunar Island, where the story takes place, would like to become independent and rule themselves. Grey’s storyline is interesting and eventually intersects with that of the plague, a nice bit of plotting that surprised me a few times before the end of the book. But ultimately, this story Nedra’s.

Revis’ book is a meditation on grief, and it’s heartbreaking and tragic and beautiful. Her writing is gorgeously mournful, telling the story of a good person’s descent into darkness in the midst of almost unbearable pain. Good speculative fiction always functions as a metaphor for things that are real, and Give the Dark My Love is a prime example of this. We as readers follow Nedra’s journey from hardworking girl with a purpose into obsession and finally into a darkness from which she cannot return. All the while, she is propelled by something very real and very human that affects all of us. Revis’ writing is such that we feel everything right alongside Nedra – and alongside Revis herself. Don’t skip reading her acknowledgments at the end.

 

Reign of the Fallen by Sarah Glenn Marsh

Quite the opposite of Revis’ book, in Reign of the Fallen, necromancers (like our protagonist Odessa) are prized. They’re necessary in order to keep the ruling class in power, who are resurrected whenever they die. But the Dead, once resurrected, must forever remain shrouded. If anyone sees any part of a Dead person, the Dead person turns into a zombie-like Shade, mindless and violent. It’s not a terribly appealing “life,” but it does allow certain people to remain in power – perhaps forever.

It’s a situation rife for trouble, and it’s kind of incredible that the society has gone as long as they have without a massive Shade epidemic. There are a few attacks here and there, but nothing that ever gets out of control. Until now. The Shade attacks have been increasing, and it soon becomes clear that someone is deliberately creating them and training them to attack. Odessa and her fellow necromancers are determined to find out who is behind it.

The premise is interesting, but it requires a massive suspension of disbelief for me. I’m perfectly willing to believe the Dead can be raised (I did love Sabriel as a teen), but it’s difficult for me to believe that Dead rulers with such easy weaknesses to exploit could remain in power for centuries. All someone would have to do is tug on the shroud, and the King would be a Shade. End of rule. That issue aside, the mystery itself is intriguing, and Odessa is an engaging character. Like Revis’ novel, Marsh’s novel is also an examination of grief, but it’s not as successful in this respect. I’d hand this to teens already interested in necromancy as a plotline.