STACKED

books

It’s 1980-something

|

This afternoon, I got into a discussion with someone about the trend of books set in the 1980s. I’m just going to say it: for the most part, it’s a trend I’m tired of. I wouldn’t mind not seeing it happen for a long time. I may be alone in this sentiment, but I’m sharing it because it’s something that has really started turning me off in book descriptions and when I open a book and find out it’s set in that time period.

I think in a lot of cases, this time period is more nostalgia than it is purposeful in plot. Not always, of course, and in some cases, the setting and nostalgia is integral to the story. There are books which are historical and centered around historical events in the 1980s. I talked about this in a previous post.

The argument for teens reading historical fiction set in the 1980s is a fair one. Except…what happened in the 1980s that’s interesting enough from the historical standpoint to make it such a popular time period to use in YA now?

That there was little access to technology and to the internet is the biggest one, in my mind. And that’s not say that’s why it’s being used. Rather, maybe that’s why we’re seeing so much of it? Historically, much more interesting stuff happened in the 1960s and 1970s, and there aren’t nearly as many YA books set then (at least recently — a few, but not as many as set in the 1980s). In addition, I think there’s something to be said about the pop culture references and potentially the age of the writer and when they came of age themselves. Again, this isn’t meant to be a generalization, but rather, an musing on the possibility of why the 80s.

I preach about how books won’t appeal to every reader and that doesn’t mean there isn’t reader appeal. But I do think there is something worth thinking about or discussing when there are so many books set in the 1980s that are meant to be realistic, as opposed to historical. As someone who was born in the mid-80s and has no recollection, it’s tough enough for me to relate or get all of the pop culture references. So I think then about how it is I sell that setting to teen readers in my library who, well, were born in the mid- and late- 1990s. Of course you sell on the book’s plot and on character and other appeal factors, but setting is an appeal factor.

For me, the 1980s setting is becoming a factor I’m finding less and less appealing.

Here’s a look at a handful of the 1980s-set novels I’ve read or taken note of on the blog published since 2011. Please feel free to add other titles in the comments. I know there are more, especially published in 2012 and coming out this year.

Nobody’s Secret by Michaela MacColl

|

I thought Michaela MacColl’s debut book, Prisoners in the Palace, was a great read. I loved learning about the young Queen Victoria, and the palace intrigue she concocted (based on true events!) was fascinating and fun.
MacColl takes a bit of a different tack with Nobody’s Secret, though it’s still historical YA. This time, her protagonist is Emily Dickinson, and her setting is Amherst, Massachusetts. Fifteen year old Emily is laying out in the field by her home, trying to coax a bee to land on her nose, when she notices that she’s being observed by a young man. They strike up a conversation (a bit of a flirtation, really), but he leaves before she can learn his true name. Instead, she knows him simply as Mr. Nobody, as he introduced himself to her.
This is a terrific meet-cute, but if you’ve read the back cover, you know this is no romantic comedy. Not long after Emily’s meeting with Mr. Nobody, he’s found dead, face-down in a pond on the Dickinson property. The constable and the coroner and everyone else officially involved with the investigation all want to write it off as an accidental drowning, but Emily knows something is off. She’s determined to learn the truth and get justice for her friend.
Famous historical figures solving crimes are all the rage in the adult fiction world, and have been for a while. I don’t know of as many in the YA world, but I admit I do rather like the gimmick, particularly if the person in question is one that already interests me. Emily Dickinson, though, has never held barrels of fascination for me. The poets I like are few and far between, and Miss Dickinson is not one of them. Still, I always enjoy a good historical mystery, particularly when it’s headed by an independent young teenager.
Alas, the mystery itself is not a terribly good one. It’s pretty pedestrian, actually, with a rather small roster of suspects and zero red herrings (meaning there’s no real chance for the reader to guess wrong). So as a whodunnit, it’s not particularly satisfying. As a character study, though, it’s more successful. Through MacColl’s story, we learn about Emily’s life: she was consumptive, she hated doing the baking and washing (which took ages), her mother was frugal to a fault, she had a fascination with bees, and so on. As she is mostly known for two things – her poetry and her seclusion – all these details are a welcome insight into her character. 
As to the central conceit – Emily Dickinson as amateur sleuth – it makes sense that Emily would be one to investigate a murder that everyone else considered closed, given her reputation for oddness.
If you’re looking for a good mystery, I’d probably give this a pass, but for readers interested in Emily Dickinson and her poetry, this would certainly be of interest. Each chapter is titled with a couple lines of her poems, and the way MacColl threads the “I’m Nobody! Who are you?” poem throughout the novel – title included – is clever. For many, Dickinson’s poetry is accessible and understandable where others’ is dense and confusing, so I can certainly see this circulating among her fans.
Review copy received from the publisher. Nobody’s Secret will be available March 1.

Three in the Big Easy

|

If I were a more organized blogger, I’d remember to check the monthly calendar before scheduling posts to see if there are holidays or celebrations worth thinking about in terms of YA books. 

But since I’m not, I’m going to instead put together a quick and simple post about one of my favorite things: Mardi Gras. I had the chance to go a few years back and it was a blast (I’m not a partier — I loved the parades and the cuisine). 

In celebration of Fat Tuesday and the kick off of the Mardi Gras celebration, here are three YA books set in the Big Easy. I’ve read two of the three below, and what I love is how the three of these titles sort of give a lot of insight into the lure and the culture of the city. If you have others set there, feel free to drop a comment! Descriptions are from WorldCat.

My Mother the Cheerleader by Robert Sharenow 

Thirteen-year-old Louise uncovers secrets about her family and her neighborhood during the violent protests over school desegregation in 1960 New Orleans.

Ruined by Paula Morris

Rebecca goes to New Orleans to stay with her aunt and sees the destruction of Hurricane Katrina and meets a ghost girl named Lisette. 

Bonus on this title is the weaving of Mardi Gras into the story. 

Out of the Easy by Ruta Sepetys

Josie, the seventeen-year-old daughter of a French Quarter prostitute, is striving to escape 1950 New Orleans and enroll at prestigious Smith College when she becomes entangled in a murder investigation.

Crash and Burn by Michael Hassan

|

Michael Hassan’s debut novel Crash and Burn is, in a word, epic. I use the word in the truest sense: there’s a hero at the center of this journey, and it follows him from start to finish.

Steven Crashinsky — Crash — saved his entire school by convincing long-time peer David Burnett — Burn — to stop his plans on taking everyone hostage.

This is the story of Crash stopping Burn. It’s the story of just what Crash said to Burn to get him to change his mind.

Crash and Burn is told from Crash’s perspective, but it’s not entirely linear. Crash received a book contract to tell the story of stopping Burn. So, really, this is the book Crash wrote about what happened, interspersed with chapters about what’s going on in the present, post-hostage standoff. It’s the struggle Crash works through in writing the story in the most honest way possible. And it’s a struggle, sure, when you’re telling a story that begins in elementary school. Because that’s where it all began — Crash and Burn had known each other for a long time. They were never friends. But they ran in similar circles. Crash had a major crush on Burn’s sister Roxanne. Burn told Crash if he was with Roxanne, he’d be in deep.

Of course, Crash had been with Roxanne and it was everything he hoped for and more.

But let me back up a second.

Crash has ADD. Burn has it too, though he has the hyperactive side of it going against him too. Burn is brilliant, by Crash’s records. At least when he applies himself, Burn can be so smart. That’s why his entire hostage set up is so scary to Crash. He knows the power Burn has when he puts his mind to something.

One of the effects of the ADD is, of course, that Crash’s story telling is a little all over. It’s not impossible to follow, but the time jumps make sense in the context of his mental state.

Crash and Burn, when they met, found themselves in trouble quickly. And the trouble that Burn seemed to cause around Crash never subsided. It did disappear for a while, though, when Burn moved away from Westchester. But Burn moves back after his father died in the World Trade Center on 9/11. He’s at a loss, of course. Even though Burn doesn’t admit to his feelings, they’re obvious. They’re obvious to Crash as an outsider, as well as obvious to him through what he figures out through Roxanne. Burn does a lot of driving and a lot of giving himself distance. He likes to slip away.

It only gets worse, though, when Burn’s mother dies. He becomes more withdrawn. More problematic, too, when he is present.

In the interm of this is Crash’s story. Crash needed tutoring, and it was Roxanne who helped him. But it wasn’t just his classroom education. Crash learns a lot about love and feelings and, well, sex. He knows if Burn knew about this, he’d never hear or feel the end of it. That’s why it’s secret. It’s also part of why he and Roxanne have to call it off. Crash was becoming too dependent upon what Roxanne was giving him. Trouble was around the corner.

Also peppering Crash’s own story is the breakup of his parents’ marriage. This came at the hands of Burn, in a way. During Thanksgiving dinner when Burn was invited over (Crash’s mom and Burn’s mom were friends when she was alive), Burn keeps hinting that Crash’s father was getting really friendly with his foreign female friend. They were indeed friendly. They were, how to say, more than friendly. From there, the divorce comes down, and Crash’s father ends up eventually marrying this woman. While this was hard enough on Crash, what makes it harder is seeing that, despite his father’s actions, he’s still successful. He’s still rich. Crash bemoans that because of who he is, because of his ADD and because he’s not all that smart, he’ll never have what his dad has. This eats him alive inside.

Then there’s the partying. All kinds of partying. Drugs. Booze. Sex. Dating and sleeping with multiple girls. Hurting feelings. This is Crash’s story. It’s part of why he feels he’ll never be a success.

He just can’t have Roxanne.

It’s impossible not to spoil the story here, so, be warned. Burn’s been on the brink of self-destruction since the death of his mother, but it was in 2007 when Roxanne died. When she killed herself. That’s when Burn’s real unraveling happened.

That’s also when Crash’s real unraveling happened, too.

Both boys, both suffering from diagnoses, are in bad places. Crash is a good guy. He really is. But he gets messed up with bad things and now that his favorite person in the world is gone, he can’t pull himself together. Burn, despite his behavior, is a good guy deep inside. He’s just wounded. He’s suffering grief and loss in a way that’s impossible to understand. Crash doesn’t try to, either. He can’t. Even as both are now suffering a shared loss, it’s for different reasons. It is, ultimately, what unites them.

Crash and Burn is impressive in what it tackles. This is, if I can be so grand, the ultimate story of being a teen boy in today’s world. Crash and Burn were both impacted by 9/11. Crash and Burn are both impacted by their diagnoses. They’re both struggling to make sense of themselves in this world. Both boys, in a way, fall through the cracks. They deal with non-traditional home lives. They deal with loss on many levels. Interspersed throughout the story — again, remember, it’s told through Crash’s perspective in the style of his own book writing voice — are pop culture references, references to video games and movies and television. While it’s distracting and makes for a lengthier-than-necessary story, they do in some ways ground the story. They give it relevance, at least for today’s readers. What makes this story further the story of today’s teen boy is how much the challenge lies in what is and isn’t permissible on an interpersonal level. These boys are so isolated from everyone around them, and they’re incredible isolated from themselves. This comes through in how they interact with others and when they’re spending time alone. It’s when Crash starts driving at night to “get away” that this makes sense to him. That the pieces of Burn click together.

So what is it that Crash did to stop Burn’s plans? Spoiler here, so skip to the next paragraph if you don’t want it. Burn admits to Crash that he watched Roxanne die. He walked in on her still being alive after overdosing, and rather than do anything — call the police, call his aunt, shake her to her senses — Burn walks out of the room. He lets her die. Obviously, her death is not in any way her fault. But it impacts him profoundly. He loved her dearly. She was his rock when they lost their parents. And now that she was making money by doing really questionable things and now that it was leading her to her death. Burn simply couldn’t deal. When Crash hears this, he does the thing that both boys needed: he hugs Burn. They embrace. They hold each other. There is sheer physical intimacy, contact, kindness, care. They’re reaching out to one another and understanding one another as human beings who are aching and need that kind of comfort. Being pressured by the world to be boys, they never felt comfortable looking or asking for that. And here they are, allowing themselves the thing they most need. True human care. Hassan does a remarkable job bringing the story together here and showcasing the depth of Crash and Burn. I believed every second of this, and I thought it was the seal on what made Crash and Burn the book of today’s teen boy.

While what the story achieves is noteworthy, it does suffer under sheer bulk. Hassan’s choice to make this a narrative through Crash’s writing a book setup feels gimmicky, especially with the ADD aspect. It allows for some lazy storytelling and it allows for some serious self-indulgence on Crash’s part. He is a good kid. But he fixates on his bad stuff (as people tend to do — it’s human nature) and he spends an awful lot of time talking about pop culture in a way that is uninteresting to a reader. In conjunction with the sheer time frame that the book covers — elementary through the end of high school — it makes the 540 pages tough to get through at times. While it’s a swifter read, it’s hefty. It covers so much in terms of content that the extras splashed throughout could have been whittled out to no loss of the story. And while this is a small criticism, I found the overuse of “C” names for female characters challenging as a reader. It’s clear this is done because, for the most part, they don’t matter to Crash. They all kind of blend together anyway. But as a reader, again, I felt cheated here, much in the way I felt cheated in the storytelling choice. Reading something of this length makes me want more depth as a reward to making it through.

Crash and Burn is going to appeal to male readers, no doubt about it. I do think there will be trouble selling this, though, to more reluctant readers because of sheer size. This is unfortunate because those are the readers who will see themselves in Crash and in Burn. Both boys are thoroughly developed and have complete and engaging arcs. They aren’t two separate halves. They aren’t opposites. They are much the same. They complement one another, despite being antagonists throughout their lives.

Michael Hassan’s debut isn’t just about the hostage situation. It’s not just about living in a post-9/11 world. It’s not just about broken boys and broken families. It’s not just about grieving and losing and fighting. It’s not just about mental health or slipping between the cracks or about how people don’t tell each other enough about how much they matter. It’s about all of this, and it’s about much more. Try this out on readers who have read all of Ellen Hopkins’s books and are ready for something new.

As I stated at the beginning, Crash and Burn is epic. What readers will walk away with at the end is knowing a hero and his entire journey.



Crash and Burn will be available February 19 from HarperTeen. Review copy received from the publisher. 

Hardcover to Paperback: Six to Consider

|

It’s been a while since I’ve put together a hardcover to paperback post, and my list of noteworthy changes continues to grow. I’ve narrowed down this post to just six to talk about, but there will be another post in the nearish future with some of the others I’ve left off. I swear as soon as I feel like I’m conquering the list of interesting changes to talk about, even more come up. Alas!

As usual, the hardcover edition is on the left side, with the paperback on the right. Of interest: the bulk of the covers below — and many I have on my list to talk about in future posts — are Penguin titles. They’re big fans of the cover change.

Of all the cover changes in this post, the paperback change for Nina LaCour’s The Disenchantments is by far my favorite. Not only is the paperback aesthetically pleasing, it’s completely relevant to the content of the book.

If you haven’t read The Disenchantments, you’d guess from the hardcover it’s a female main character. And while there IS a main female character, it’s actually told through the eyes of 18-year-old Colby. He’s on tour with his best friend Bev’s band, The Disenchantments. Doesn’t the cover on the right better convey the band feel? It looks like a tour poster or the cover of an album. Likewise, there’s a dude on it, and he looks a lot like what I sort of imagine Colby would look like. Bev, who I am assuming is the girl in the yellow cardigan and black shorts, looks as I sort of imagined her to look from the book too. This is a great cover change, and I think it’ll make an impact in readership. Plus, you can’t go wrong when your cover actually doesn’t do disservice to the content. Because as much as I do believe guys will read a story about girls and vice versa, the hard cover of The Disenchantments would never lead a male reader to think it’s a male voice telling the story.

I’m also a fan of the paperback tagline: “Maybe we always were the people we imagined ourselves to be.” The Disenchantments paperback will be available April 18.

Here’s an older book getting a fresh look for the spring: Maureen Johnson’s Devilish. The hardcover, for the most part, has a bit of a sweet look to it. Sure, there’s something devilish in the girl’s eyes, but the spare, white cover, along with the pinkish tones of the girl’s skin, shirt, and the cupcake, give it a sweet appearance.

The paperback, though, goes in an entirely different direction. It’s dark. It’s fiery. And it has a heck of a tagline: “All it’ll cost you is your soul.” The cover kind of reminds me of Karsten Knight’s Wildefire with the way the flames take up the cover. In thinking about aesthetic appeal on this change, I would think that there’s a huge appeal to female readers on the original hardcover, and I think there’s a nice gender neutrality to the paperback reissue. Having the bit about Maureen being a New York Tims Bestselling Author on the new paperback is a big deal, too.

Without doubt, this new look with breathe new life into this book. It’s one I would consider purchasing a second copy of, in hopes of reaching a variety of readers, depending on what kind of story they’re looking for here. Devilish will have its new paperback look February 21.

Speaking of Maureen Johnson, here’s another big change coming:

The Bermudez Triangle was originally titled that and the hardcover, much like the hardcover for Devilish, was light and airy. It was primarily white, though there were spots of color between the triangle hearts. You can make out three girls between those hearts. I like the effect a lot, though the cover itself is kind of bland. Which isn’t a bad thing. It’s just not entirely memorable.


Get a look at the paperback, though. Not only is it much more colorful and much more active (I love the idea of the girls taking a self-portrait and two of them hiding from the camera — this is a real captured moment) but the title was changed completely. No more Bermudez Triangle. Instead, the title is now On the Count of Three. There is a small note below stating the title changed, but it’s not entirely obvious and you wouldn’t get it immediately from the image for the book, either. The new paperback’s also got a tag line (this is the thing for paperbacks, it seems): “What do you do when your two best friends in the world start dating . . . each other?” That line tells a lot about the book and, I think, enhances the cover image in a good way.


The paperback is very appealing, and I like how Penguin is repackaging older Johnson titles to fit today’s YA book aesthetics, and I like how contemporary — and yet timeless — they feel.  On the Count of Three will be available April 18.

If you were thinking I was done with Penguin cover changes, you’d be wrong. Here’s another one, this time for Jess Rothenberg’s The Catastrophic History of You and Me. The hardcover isn’t bad by any means, but it’s a girl in a dress. I do think it’s standout, regardless, but I will say I think the paperback is even better.

The paperback edition, in addition to featuring an ampersand instead of the “and” for the title (you notice those things, don’t you?), has a very Gayle Forman If I Stay feel to it. In fact, the two of the covers are eerily similar and both have a timelessness to them. But you know what really interests me about this cover change is a very small thing: note that the blurb from Lauren Oliver is slightly different from the hardcover to the paperback: where there is “yes” and elipses in the hardcover blurb, there is on the paperback. It makes me curious to know which is correct, where the change happened, if there’s actually words between those elipses or if they’re just part of the emphasis. Curious!

I do like the paperback a tiny bit more, but that’s just because of my preference for the look of not having a person on the cover. I think it’s done fine on the hardcover. The paperback for The Catastrophic History of You & Me will be available April 18.

I’ve talked before about how Katie Williams’s The Space Between Trees hardcover is one of my all-time favorites. Not only is it haunting, it’s got some neat aesthetic elements to it, including the cut out element of the trees. The cover is a piece of art in and of itself.

I was waiting for the paperback to change, of course, so when it was brought to my attention, it took me a long time to accept the change. I’m not usually a fan of the dead girl on the cover, though sometimes it can be done well and be made completely appropriate to the story. I don’t know if I think that the girl on The Space Between Trees paperback is dead or if she’s sleeping. But what I love about this cover is how blue hued it is. It’s got a coldness to it that pervades the story itself. This cover is much more commercial and much more on par with what other similar covers are doing, so there’s something to be said about that change. I dig how the design managed to keep the font consistent between the hardcover and paperback, though — there’s something different about the font, and I’m glad it stayed and the use of the more script-like lettering for “Space” and “Trees” remained. I dig, too, how the author’s name is a little bit bigger. Part of me thinks the change came not just for the commercial aspect, but also because taking the care to do a paper cut cover for paperback edition would be a nightmare — anyone who works with books knows those things get torn so easily. The hardcover is durable and can be fixed much easier than a paperback cut would be.

This is another book that I think if I had the hardcover edition of, I’d purchase an additional copy in paperback for the library. There is a difference in appeal, I think. Plus, I don’t think I could ever get rid of the hardcover because it’s so gorgeous and so different. The paperback of The Space Between Trees will be available April 23. I want to make a special note, too, that Katie’s forthcoming title Absent (April 30) is one of the most brilliant books I’ve read and it’s one to keep on your radar.


 
The last cover change for this post is Tanita S. Davis’s Happy Families. The hardcover of the book isn’t bad. And it’s quite representative of the content — it’s a story about twins who learn that their father is transgendered and it shakes their world up completely. The male and female silhouettes, along with the use of purple to represent the blending of the pink and the blue is smart and savvy. I love how it plays with AND against the notion of gender and traditional gender roles. The thing I didn’t love about the cover, though, was how white and empty it felt. Though it’s smart, it’s not entirely obvious to readers who aren’t familiar with the book’s content. 
I dig the paperback edition of Happy Families though: I love the idea of the house upside down and the notion of chaos contained therein. I love the slightly crooked lettering of the title and how it represents the unevenness and the uncertainty of everything. I love how both the title and the house are shadowy and, like the hardcover, silhouette-like. More than those things, though, I love the coloring. I like the yellowish green tint. The cover reminds me quite a bit of Cecil Castellucci’s First Day on Earth in terms of color and the mood conveyed with that color. 
Both covers work for me, but I do prefer the paperback just a tiny bit. It’s different. Happy Families will be in paperback May 14. 
What are your thoughts? Where’s the paperback better than the hardcover and vice versa? Any other recent changes you’ve noticed or are looking forward to?