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Uses for Boys by Erica Lorraine Scheidt

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Erica Lorraine Scheidt’s debut Uses for Boys is daring and unafraid — this book is candid in topic, so if sex in young adult fiction is a topic that interests you, here you go.

Anna, age five, was all her mother needed. She doted upon Anna, and Anna loved it. This was what it meant to be a family. To feel like everything was right and good. Anna never knew her dad, but the love given to her by her mother was more than enough.

Then her mom started dating again. Then her mom got married again. Then divorced. Then started dating again. Then got married again. Then divorced. This cycle defined the relationship between Anna and her mother. No longer was Anna all mom needed. It was the men. It was the husbands. It was the lives those men gave her mother.

Anna gets lost in this life. She falls out of her mother’s attention. When she turns thirteen, Anna has the first taste of being the center of attention again, but this time, it comes from a boy on the school bus. He grabs her breast. She likes the way it makes her feel, like she means something to him. But, he does it for show, and he gets a good laugh out of the entire event. Anna loses her only friend because she’s labeled easy, because the way she let that boy touch her made her a bad person.

Alone again, Anna seeks out other boys. If it’s good for her mother, then it’s got to be good for her, too. She finds Joey. He treats her well, and they have a lot of sex. In fact, he is the first boy to teach her how her body can feel sexually. She likes this. But it’s not too long before Joey is ripped away from her, either. He moves from Portland to Seattle.

By this point, Anna’s in a new home, there’s a new stepdad and a new step family. That changes not long after a family trip to a resort. One where — spoiler — Anna becomes a rape victim. Where she doesn’t stop the boy from taking even more from her. Her sexual independence is, of course, compromised, despite the fact she was never truly sexually independent in the first place. She wasn’t owning it. She was submitting to it out of the belief that was how things worked. It was what made her mom the way she was. It was what made Anna no longer a thing needed.

Then, Anna meets Toy. Toy’s the girl she runs into at Goodwill while shopping. Toy is the girl Anna wants to be. Toy comes from a broken family, too, but she’s got boyfriends who care about her so much. There’s the one who buys her all kinds of things. The one who wants to take her traveling. The one who loves her unconditionally. These are all the things Anna wants and just doesn’t get with her boys. Anna convinces herself repeatedly that she is good. That what she’s getting sexually is what she needs. It makes her wanted. It makes her loved.

There is another boy, Josh. This time, though, Anna is convinced he’s the real deal. She loves him so much and he loves her, too. Anna’s mom is absent all of the time, and being alone in the big house isn’t what she wants. So Anna decides it’s time to make some hard choices: she moves out and into Josh’s apartment in Portland proper. She also drops out of school and takes a job instead. Then there is a lot of sex. But in reading between the lines, it’s clear Anna isn’t feeling this relationship. Maybe she’s not in love with Josh quite the way she thinks she should be. He’s kind of a loser. He has no ambitions. He wants to go no where. The apartment stinks, and he never has the interest in making it better.

Here’s a spoiler paragraph, so skip down if you need to. Anna finds out she’s pregnant with Josh’s baby. And while Josh is an incredible supportive character when she makes the decision to have an abortion, it’s here when Anna has her true turnaround. It’s a choice she makes to not have the baby. It’s a choice she lives with. It’s a choice that ultimately forces her to choose to move out of Josh’s and into a new place. To let him out of her life completely. Throughout this, Anna has a touch-and-go relationship with Toy. Toy’s continually with her own boys who dote on her. With her own boys that take her time away from Anna. With, as it turns out, a fantasy life. That’s her escape from her own loneliness.

When Anna moves into her own place, her mom pops back in the picture, but only to criticize her. Why won’t she go back to school and make something of herself? Why won’t she move back to the house in the suburbs?

If it weren’t obvious, there is another boy. Sam. But this boy is the right one. This is the boy who teaches Anna what it means to love, the boy who teaches Anna what a family is and what a family can do for a person. Sam’s also a virgin. Sam doesn’t push Anna into sex. Instead, he teaches her how to appreciate and respect her body, her sexuality, and most importantly, her own choices. Sam and his family (his mother in particular — who is a great adult character, despite her short page time) give Anna the gift of learning to love herself and own her choices for herself.

Uses for Boys is not a boy-saves-girl story. The person who saves Anna in this story is Anna alone. She makes questionable choices throughout her entire life, and she loses a lot of herself in doing so. These choices aren’t likable ones. She has a lot of meaningless sex, and she ascribes a lot of meaning to the way boys treat her, even when there is no meaning to be ascribed. She does this because this is what she’s seen and grown up with. Her mother did exactly this and taught Anna that was how things work. That her life and her choices were dependent upon men. That men came and went. That men were what got you a house, got you a life, and got you a future.

Anna is probably not a likable character. This is because of her choices and because they don’t make a lot of sense. But that’s the entire point — choices are choices. They aren’t the definition of who you are. Anna’s mom made choices. It didn’t mean that when she needed to be there for Anna, she wouldn’t be (she is, though she herself isn’t likable in those moments, either). Anna is a smart, strong female; the trouble and the point is that she’s crushed under the models of life she’s seen around her, she’s lived with, she’s befriended, and that she believes the world puts upon her.

Scheidt’s writing is short and staccato. The chapters span between a single paragraph and a couple of pages. Though a lot of living and a lot of events happen, the way it’s captured through Anna’s voice works. There aren’t short cuts here, and never do any of the issues feel like they’re crushed beneath others. That’s because despite the choices, Anna continues to live, to grow, to think, and to hope. This is a brisker read, but there’s a lot to tease out.

Hand Uses for Boys off to readers who like Amy Reed or Ellen Hopkins. This is a near perfect read alike to Reed’s Beautiful, featuring a younger teen female caught up in a number of mature, heart-breaking situations and who struggles to make it through. There is sex in this book, and it is graphic, so readers who shy away from reading it will want to skip this book. But for the readers looking for an honest, aching, and brutal portrayal of teen sex will find Uses for Boys one of the best treatments.

Uses for Boys will be available now from St. Martin’s Press. Review copy received from the publisher. 

Critical Reviews & Critical Advocacy

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I’ve blogged before about being authentic. About being critical. About speaking up and not being afraid to not “be nice.” And even though I believe every single one of those things, they’re all things I struggle with regularly, especially when it comes to blogging about books.

In the last couple of weeks, there’s been discussion about critical reviews again. There’s been an interesting phenomenon of people asking how to write them, as well as how to read critically on a broader scale. As new people start blogging and discovering their voices in doing so, it becomes a question of not just the mechanics of writing critical reviews, but a question of how to share that without looking like a jerk or without looking like you’re doing it for some ulterior motive. There’s also the question of how far is too far, how “mean” is too mean, and how much space to dedicate to reading (and thus reviewing) books that weren’t exactly good fits for you as a reader.
This is something I’m still struggling with and maybe something I’m struggling with more now that I’ve been blogging longer and now that I do have a good sense of what I like and do not like in books. When I write out a critical review and post it, I angst about it the entire process. But why is that?
I’ve been thinking about this in light of other things I’ve blogged about. Before delving into that though, maybe it’s worth talking a little bit about my process, since I think anyone who wants to or does write critical reviews may be curious about. It’s quite complex. When I’m reading a book, I don’t take notes. Periodically, I’ll open up a draft email or draft blog post and write down some page numbers if something is rubbing me either positively or negatively. But for the most part, my reviews come a few days after shutting the book and letting it settle in my mind. Many times I’ll write up initial reactions and thoughts on Goodreads, and a lot of that is so when I do turn to write the lengthier review, I have something to look back at and reflect on in terms of initial thoughts (and sometimes that writing can turn my opinion). For the actual writing itself, it’s usually a one draft thing. It takes a couple of hours, since I draft it slowly and edit as I go. I write completely out of order, all of the time (which means that I’ll draft it, then I’ll move things around — I write as things come to me which helps me work through them logically as I see them, rather than as I think them). I tend not to read other blogger reviews of titles, but sometimes I’ll track down professional reviews once I’ve drafted something. I usually do this more for books that didn’t sit well with me, just to see if maybe I missed something huge. The writing process is the same, regardless of whether I really liked the book or I did not like the book. Maybe the most important part of my process, though, is this: I focus solely on the book at hand. There are no outside influences in terms of who the author is, the story of the book’s publication, where it came from, and so forth. Frankly, I don’t care. I write about the book as it came to me, and I am forthright in admitting whatever biases I bring to my own reading experience. But when it comes to who wrote it or what their status is (debut or not, male or female, etc.) it doesn’t matter one bit. 
I’m in it for the book and the book alone. 
A lot of people don’t like writing critical reviews because they don’t like to finish or write about a book they didn’t like. That’s completely fair. But there are also a lot of people who don’t like to write critical reviews because they’re afraid of hurting feelings. That’s where I take some issue. Writing a review isn’t about feelings — we all know there is work involved in the process of writing, revising, and editing a book. There’s a lot more bound up in the book than the pages. The thing is, that is not on the side of the reader/reviewer. 
One part of my process that’s been a struggle for me lately, though, is the one that comes when I schedule and then post a critical review. I angst about it going up. I angst about where it’ll end up. I angst about who will read it and what their response will be. I angst about sharing the post. I angst and angst and angst. 
But why? 
I write reviews for myself and for other readers. I write them for those who are looking for the right book to meet their needs. This is why even in the most critical reviews, I try to offer some sort of read alike or tap into what the reader appeal is. That’s supremely important to me because I know there are blogs I read where I always disagree with the reviewer and it’s in that disagreement where I find books I want to read. It’s also important to me to be critical because that’s just how I read. I’m a detail person. I notice little things and I notice bigger ones, and it’s in those details where the story can be made or broken for me as a reader. I like to blog about it, in part, to know I’m not alone in reading this way or thinking about things in this way. 
The struggle and angst seem to come, though, from the belief that somehow being critical — especially if that means being “mean” in a review — means I’m not advocating for books or reading. And that’s simply not true. Being critical is a high form of advocacy: it’s advocating on the part of the reader. 
With as many books as there are being published, with the way that marketing and publicity handle what are and are not their lead titles, with the way that gatekeepers and readers discover titles, I think it’s crucial to be critical. It’s important to look at every book as simply that: a book. It can be good and it can be bad. That all lies in the taste of the reader. And every single reader approaches and engages with a book at a different level, with different expectations and different biases coloring their reading experience. To think that a critical review isn’t somehow advocacy for reading is to say that reading is a singular experience with a singular purpose. 
It’s been hard for me to remember this sometimes when I do write a critical review or when I spend time finishing and thinking about a book that I did not like. And I think a lot of my struggle comes from the fact that in the last couple of years, I’ve really put myself out there personally on the blog. I’ve talked about things I’m struggling with as an individual, as a blogger/writer, as a librarian, and as a reader. I’ve talked about these things in a way that, I think, let readers in on who I am a lot more than I ever thought I would when this blog began. So when I do write a critical review, it almost feels like I’m undercutting myself in the process. Or maybe it’s not so much undercutting myself but leaving anyone who reads this with the task of separating the personal stuff from the critical reading. The advocate side of me from the actual critical side of me. I have to remember that when I review a book, especially if it’s very critical, that I’m reviewing the book at hand. That same thing is what I hope for in return, too: that when I write a critical review, my words are being read through the eyes of a reviewer and not through the eyes of me on a more personal level. Yes, reviews are personal things and yes, I bring baggage to books. But those are things that allow me to objectively critique a book from the eyes of a reader. 
I still get tangled up in the belief I need to be nice about everything. I don’t. I need to be fair to myself and to other readers. This means remembering I’m allowed to be critical and sharp. That I don’t have to like everything (or anything!). That sometimes the book everyone loves is a book that just doesn’t work for me and that is okay. More than that, though — and this is an interesting trend I’ve picked up on not only in myself but in other bloggers — it’s important to remember there’s no need to apologize for or create excuses for having the opinions that I do. Being critical and having an opinion that may differ from others doesn’t mean being against the crowd. Rather, it’s another shade on the spectrum. This is something I’ve been wrestling with for a long time now, but it’s pretty simple. Just because I don’t agree with something doesn’t mean I can’t still be an advocate for it. Likewise, enjoying something tremendously doesn’t mean that I can’t carry opinions about other aspects of the product or creation that are contrary. 
I can severely dislike a book and still advocate for YA fiction. I can also dislike a book and still advocate for it individually. I can and do still pass it to readers who will find much to enjoy in it. Being critical allows me to think about the reader end of things. But the same feelings go the other way, too. I can love a book and find, say, the author or their behavior frustrating and disingenuous. And that’s not to say I wouldn’t advocate for the book, either. Humans are complex individuals, and one of the biggest benefits of this complexity is the ability to hold and consider differing opinions at the same time and act accordingly.
Because in the end, being critical is about developing the skills necessary to be an advocate. Sometimes, being critical means choosing not to talk about being critical. In my case, though, it means taking the time and effort to advocate for being critical. Being critical, for me, is a means of strengthening my own voice, my own opinions, and my own ability to be clear, direct, and honest. Doing so only helps me be a better advocate for other readers. 

Welcome New Visitors!

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Welcome to anyone who is new to STACKED, having made their way over from either last week’s piece in the Wisconsin State Journal or today’s feature over at BlogHer or from any other venue in which you may have seen us. We’re so thrilled to have you stop by and we thought we’d give you a little taste of what else you can find around this blog.
While we’re primarily a blog about books and reading, especially of the young adult variety, we’ve been known to talk about book covers, about bigger issues surrounding reading/book/library culture, gender, and more. We’ve been around these parts for almost four years, and we post new content at least five times a week. Both Kimberly and myself work as librarians in public libraries. We met in grad school at the University of Texas in a YA Lit class, and we are both huge believers in Ranganathan’s Laws. It was those very laws around which we structured this blog. This is an advertisement-free blog.

We write critical reviews of books, both those we loved and those we were less enamored with as readers. We always return our focus to who the audience is for a title because even if we don’t like it, that doesn’t mean there is not an audience for the book. 

We love interacting with our readers, so please feel free to comment or get in touch with us. We do our best to respond! 
To get a sense of what we’ve written about, Kim and I decided to share some of our favorite posts. This is a sampler set to what you can find here:

  • Speaking of my reviews, you’ll notice that I’m a huge genre fiction reader, and I believe its literary merit is too often overlooked or trivialized, despite its recent boom in popularity. You can read about a few of my recent favorite genre reads here, here, here, and here. 
Thank you so much for stopping by and we hope you continue to come back! 

Level 2 Launch Party with Lenore Appelhans

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This week, I flew down to Wichita, Kansas, to go to Lenore Appelhans‘s launch party for her debut novel Level 2. I’ve known Lenore since 2010, when we met at BEA. We then spent some more time together in 2011 at BEA, and I was honored when she asked me to offer feedback on her novel when it was still in its early stages.

Lenore interviewed me about that process here, if you’re curious.

When I got into Wichita, I managed to surprise Lenore with a gift. Here’s a secret about me: I am the world’s worst person with surprises. I get so excited about them, I want to blurt about them. But I held off, and I gave Lenore this necklace featuring her book cover (which I had made over at Etsy with a designer who did an excellent job):

Lenore and I then went on a trip throughout town, looking for her book. She was convinced it wouldn’t be at Barnes & Noble, but when we got there, guess what we saw?

She then found one of the managers in the store and asked if she could sign stock. But while we were looking for someone to talk to about  this, a man went over to the shelf and was looking through her book. He finally approached and asked if it was hers, and when she said yes, they had a lovely conversation about publishing and writing. It was her first fan.

Then she signed some stock.

After signing, we walked over and had soups and sandwiches at a deli in the same strip mall, and then I treated Lenore to ice cream, as you’d do.

We then went to Watermark Books, where her event would be the next day. We scoped out the YA section, then we saw her book in the window display (that’s the top photo). Lenore was then kind enough to take me to buy shampoo and toothpaste since I was so proud of my packing skills for the trip I didn’t bother to pack either of those things. We then went our separate ways, as I’d been up since 3 AM and needed to sleep.

The next morning, I woke up travel-sick, but I laid low until the evening, when Emily Hainsworth arrived in town and we made our way over to the launch.

Lenore poses with her cupcakes (which were delicious). They mirrored the way her cover has orange and white dots on it, which was a nice touch.

Rather than read a straight passage, Lenore asked the audience to shout out page numbers. She read a couple of sentences and then would jump to another request.

Lenore’s signing her books after her reading and Q&A session.

It was a great event, and it was nice to celebrate this huge accomplishment with Lenore. If you haven’t yet, you can enter to win a signed (!) copy of Level 2 right here at STACKED.

Not only was I excited about being able to go to her launch, I’m maybe equally excited about the fact I’ll be seeing Lenore again next week at ALA Midwinter — she’s the featured guest at a luncheon I’m going to, and she’ll be stopping by the YA Blogger Meetup, among other things.

January YA Debut Novels

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Even though I’m no longer blogging over at YALSA’s blog, The Hub, I wanted to keep up with debut YA novels. As a reader and as a librarian, I want to know what’s coming out and who these new voices are. I’m going to try a roundup each month of that month’s debut novels. I’ll include covers and descriptions via WorldCat. 

If you can think of other traditionally published novels out by debuts in a given month, leave the title in the comments. I hope other people find this as helpful and as interesting as I do.

Over the course of the year, I’ll link up reviews Kimberly and I write on any of these titles for easy access and reference. 

Altered by Jennifer Rush: Seventeen-year-old Anna finds herself on the run from her father’s enigmatic Agency, along with the four teen boys the Agency had been experimenting on, as they try to make sense of erased memories, secret identities, and genetic alteration.

The Fire Horse Girl by Kay Honeyman: When Jade Moon, born in the unlucky year of the Fire Horse, and her father immigrate to America in 1923 and are detained at Angel Island Immigration Station, Jade Moon is determined to find a way through and prove that she is not cursed.

Propechy by Ellen Oh: A demon slayer, the only female warrior in the King’s army, must battle demon soldiers, an evil shaman, and the Demon Lord to find the lost ruby of the Dragon King’s prophecy and save her kingdom.  Kimberly’s review. 

Revolution 19 by Gregg Rosenblum: Twenty years after robots designed to fight wars abandoned the battlefields and turned their weapons against humans, siblings Nick, Kevin, and Cass must risk everything when the wilderness community where they have spent their lives in hiding is discovered by the bots.

The Tragedy Paper by Elizabeth LaBan: While preparing for the most dreaded assignment at the prestigious Irving School, the Tragedy Paper, Duncan gets wrapped up in the tragic tale of Tim Macbeth, a former student who had a clandestine relationship with the wrong girl, and his own ill-fated romance with Daisy.

Level 2 by Lenore Appelhans: Seventeen-year-old Felicia Ward is dead and spending her time in the hive reliving her happy memories–but when Julian, a dark memory from her past, breaks into the hive and demands that she come with him, she discovers that even the afterlife is more complicated and dangerous then she dreamed.

The Cadet of Tildor by Alex Lidell: At the Academy of Tildor, the training ground for elite soldiers, Cadet Renee de Winter struggles to keep up with her male peers, but when her mentor is kidnapped to fight in illegal gladiator games, Renee and best friend Alec struggle to do what is right in a world of crime of political intrigue.

Slated by Teri Terry: Kyla’s memory has been erased, her personality wiped blank, her memories lost for ever. She’s been Slated. The government claims she was a terrorist, and that they are giving her a second chance – as long as she plays by their rules. But echoes of the past whisper in Kyla’s mind. Someone is lying to her, and nothing is as it seems. Who can she trust in her search for the truth?

The Madman’s Daughter by Megan Shepard: Dr. Moreau’s daughter, Juliet, travels to her estranged father’s island, only to encounter murder, medical horrors, and a love triangle.

Nobody But Us by Kristin Halbrook: Told in their separate voices, eighteen-year-old Will who has aged out of foster care, and fifteen-year-old Zoe whose father beats her, set out for Las Vegas together, but their escape may prove more dangerous than what they left behind. Reviewed here. 

Uses for Boys by Erica Lorraine Scheidt (note this description comes from Goodreads): Anna remembers a time before boys, when she was little and everything made sense. When she and her mom were a family, just the two of them against the world. But now her mom is gone most of the time, chasing the next marriage, bringing home the next stepfather. Anna is left on her own—until she discovers that she can make boys her family. From Desmond to Joey, Todd to Sam, Anna learns that if you give boys what they want, you can get what you need. But the price is high—the other kids make fun of her; the girls call her a slut. Anna’s new friend, Toy, seems to have found a way around the loneliness, but Toy has her own secrets that even Anna can’t know. Then comes Sam. When Anna actually meets a boy who is more than just useful, whose family eats dinner together, laughs, and tells stories, the truth about love becomes clear. And she finally learns how it feels to have something to lose—and something to offer. Review here. 

Brianna on the Brink by Nicole McInnes: A one-night stand has life-altering consequences for popular, sixteen-year-old Brianna, who must then accept help from the one person closest to her mistake.

Hooked by Liz Fichera (Goodreads description): When Native American Fredericka ‘Fred’ Oday is invited to become the only girl on the school’s golf team, she can’t say no. This is an opportunity to shine, win a scholarship and go to university, something no one in her family has done. But Fred’s presence on the team isn’t exactly welcome — especially not to rich golden boy Ryan Berenger, whose best friend was kicked off the team to make a spot for Fred. But there’s no denying that things are happening between the girl with the killer swing and the boy with the killer smile.