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Finding a Community: Diana Wynne Jones Blog Tour

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Like most everyone else in the world, I fell hard for Harry Potter when it was released, catapulting head first into the tale of wizards, Muggles, and a young boy’s coming of age. (Stay with me here, this will be about Diana Wynne Jones eventually). Before Harry Potter was released, in 1999, I had mostly been reading adult fiction, chick lit and literary fiction. After all, I was a junior in high school, determined to prove my adulthood and maturity by reading up–never reading down. For some reason, I thought that I should relate more to thirty-year-old singles living the good life in NYC than to kids or teens who were growing up, just like me. Harry Potter changed that, showing me that readers of any age could still find a good story in children’s or YA literature.

But it seemed to stop there. People read Harry Potter, loved Harry Potter, then didn’t continue onward to explore the vast unknown universe that was kidlit/YA and fantasy. I wanted to continue onward, but didn’t have a guide. Until I found one. A friend pressed a worn, battered copy of Fire and Hemlock into my hands, urging me to try it out. I quickly moved onto The Chronicles of Chrestomanci, devouring the thick paperbacks and immersing myself in the tale of Cat and Gwendolen Chant and their experiences with parallel universes and a magician with nine lives.

Amidst the turbulent (or what I then considered turbulent) atmosphere of high school, of preparing for college, of change, sometimes a magical universe where anything can happen is exactly what a girl needs. Diana Wynne Jones provided me with a world where I could lose myself, and that friend inadvertently gave me two incredible gifts: a path to children’s and YA literature, and my first experience with a true community of literature lovers, one that has been ever expanding throughout the years.

This blog tour is coinciding with the Firebird (an imprint of Penguin) reissue of three of DWJ’s works, Dogsbody, Fire and Hemlock, and A Tale of Time City. Each work has an introduction by a major literary figure (Neil Gaiman, Ursula Le Guin, and Garth Nix, respectively). Find more information at the Celebrate Diana Wynne Jones tumblr.

Perception by Kim Harrington

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Kim Harrington’s Clarity was a surprise hit for me last year, so Perception, the follow-up novel featuring psychic sleuth Clare Fern, was a guaranteed read. While I definitely enjoyed it, it didn’t live up to my expectations.
One of Clare’s classmates has gone missing. The girl’s mother visits Clare’s family for a psychic reading, but they aren’t able to tell her much. Clare, however, buoyed by her success with the events in the first book, decides that she wants to help solve the case. Meanwhile, Clare has been receiving notes from a secret admirer. While the notes are flattering at first, they start to grow more sinister. Is there a connection? And does it have anything to do with the messages Clare’s brother, Perry, has been getting from beyond the grave from a girl who has been dead for years? 
The mystery is fine, although the clues are frequently obvious and inserted into the story somewhat clumsily. In one scene, Clare learns that she should try searching for alternate spellings of a possible murder victim’s name to get more information on her after noticing that a friend’s name is spelled strangely. It’s not very smoothly done, but I may be biased since something like that is Librarianship 101.
What I really wanted out of Perception was a greater focus on Clare’s interesting family history, some of which was hinted at in Clarity. Mystery series are perfect for giving the reader a self-contained mystery in one volume and slowly building a longer mystery arc over several volumes, but that longer arc was virtually nonexistent here. It’s a shame, since the details dropped in Clarity were fascinating and a surefire hook to keep readers interested in sequels.
Perception also focused way too much attention on Clare’s love triangle, which I found tedious and supremely uninteresting. Clare’s got a legitimate choice to make about the two boys who want to date her, but it’s too large of a plot point. I wanted more sleuthing and less mooning. I admit this is a personal preference and some readers may be very invested in Clare’s decision, but I was tempted to skim during those parts.
Lastly, Clare seems to have lost some of her snark that made her character such a treat to read about in Clarity. I remember laughing out loud several times during the first volume, but it didn’t happen much in the second. Her voice isn’t completely changed, but it’s not as amusing.
All that said, Perception is still enjoyable. There aren’t many YA novels that are so completely, straightforwardly mysteries. (By that I mean, many books have mystery elements, but they’re often simply a part of the story rather than the whole point of the story.) Mystery is one of my first literary loves and I cherish the chance to re-visit it in YA when I can. Perception is a solid entry and I look forward to the next books.

Incarnate by Jodi Meadows

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You know how sometimes, when you read a really fantastic book, everything you read soon after it just seems mediocre in comparison? I fear Incarnate fell victim to this phenomenon.
It’s got a great premise: In a world where people’s souls have been reincarnated into new bodies for over 5,000 years, Ana is a newsoul. Her body was supposed to house Ciana, a woman who died a few years ago, but instead she is Ana, a completely new person who must experience everything for the first time. The other people who live in Range view Ana with either pity or revulsion. Her own mother despises her. 
Tired of being subjected to her mother’s barbs, Ana decides to leave their country home and set out for Heart, the world’s bustling main city. Along the way, she runs into a teenager (in appearance only, of course) named Sam. Sam doesn’t think she’s someone to be hated or feared, and actually is quite interested in helping her develop and survive in Heart. Romance ensues. With Sam, Ana must learn how to get along with the people of Heart and survive the dragons and sylphs that attack the city. She also comes to a startling revelation about the reincarnation of souls and her own absent father.
I’ll start with what I liked about Incarnate: the concept is fascinating, Ana is a pretty well-developed character, and the events near the end of the novel were completely surprising, but also completely plausible. Not many novels are able to do that. I appreciated that the plot was different from a lot of YA fantasy I’ve read lately and that it didn’t become something more familiar as I read.
My main problem with Incarnate was the writing, which I felt was a little weak overall. The first couple of chapters in particular are confusing, and not in the “I’m getting adjusted to a new fantasy world so things are going to be confusing for a while” way. I wasn’t ever quite clear what was going on and can’t quite remember what it is that exactly happened. Meadows throws Ana into a confrontation with a sylph almost from the get-go, but I still don’t feel that I know what a sylph is or how Ana escaped.
The other issue I had was pacing. Not much happens in the first half. I would actually consider all of the first half exposition: Meadows sets up the world and the characters in it, but the plot isn’t much advanced. A more skillful writer would be able to incorporate this world-building into the action. Instead, the novel is a bit of a slog at the beginning and rushed at the end.
And a third, minor problem involved the romance. Very old (but young in appearance) men romancing teenage girls is no longer anything new in YA, but some writers make it more believable than others. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to fully buy into it here. Ana felt like a real person, but Sam never did. I never got a good reason for why he would be interested in Ana; he seemed flat and had weak motivations.
As always, your mileage may vary. For a take from someone who thought more highly of Incarnate than I did, check out Lenore’s review. I may seem pretty critical of Incarnate, but I did enjoy it. I actually would probably read the sequel, since I’m interested to see how Meadows takes what she developed in the second half of the novel.
Book borrowed from my local library.

The Children and the Wolves by Adam Rapp

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Eighth grader Bounce — her nickname — comes from the right side of the tracks. Her parents work for a drug company, and aside from having an endless supply of oxycontin, she lives in a nice house, has little supervision, and has never had a real problem in her life. She’s confident. No actually, she’s cocky. Bounce believes she owns the world and everyone in it.

When she’s challenged by a poet in her English class, suddenly Bounce begins feeling like she’s losing her edge a bit. She’s beyond frustrated anyone would challenge her or call her out, suggest she’s not everything great and wonderful in the world. So Bounce does what she does best and decides to get revenge. Enter Wiggins and Orange, two seventh grade boys who are enamored by the idea of having the attention of such a powerful, older girl.

As a means of getting revenge on the poet, Bounce decides to kidnap a four-year-old girl who they’ve nicknamed Frog. They’ve chained the little girl in Orange’s basement and have given her a video game to keep her occupied. Bounce, Wiggins, and Orange plan on using Frog’s kidnapping as an opportunity to raise money — they’re telling people they plan on using that cash to fund supplies for creating posters and awareness campaigns of the girl’s disappearance. Of course, that money isn’t going to be used for that purpose. Bounce’s real plan is to use that money to purchase a weapon and seek her revenge on the poet.

The Children and the Wolves might be one of the riskiest books I’ve read in a while. It’s short, clocking in at only about 160 pages, but within those pages, there are so many broken characters, terrible situations, and so much to unpack. Rapp’s story is told through multiple narrators. We’re dropped immediately into Wiggins’s story, and his home life is anything but happy. His mother’s fairly useless, too preoccupied with men and other things to care about her son. He’s also from the wrong side of the tracks, and not only is this shown through his experiences at home, it’s shown through his lack of education. His chapters are not the easiest to read because Wiggins struggles with literacy issues. We’re forced to see the world through his eyes and his somewhat simplistic thinking. It’s essential to remember this when reading because at times, what Wiggins says or how he addresses certain people in the book is uncomfortable to read. There are racial slurs without consequence. While it’s jarring to readers, it’s who he is as a character. Although it seems like Wiggins might be the kind of character you’d hate, he has an immense heart and wants to do right by everyone. This is why he goes along with Bounce’s idea in the first place and why he continues to treat Frog as a pet to take care of, rather than as a human being he should help out. He likes the acceptance he received from Bounce. It’s something he’s not getting elsewhere. While Bounce’s payback scheme seems like it’s the crux of the story, I actually think this is much more Wiggin’s tale than hers.

Orange is part of the story because he’s also easily manipulated by Bounce but more importantly, he has a place they can house Frog. Orange’s father is disabled and unable to get around well at home, so his entire life is confined to the first floor of their home. Orange, like Wiggins, is from the poor side of town and sees the opportunity to serve as a tool in Bounce’s scheme as good for him. He, too, needs the acceptance. But maybe more frightening about Orange, as opposed to Wiggins, is that he’s much more inclined to violence.

The final player in the story is Frog, the kidnapped girl. She doesn’t have a lot of page time and really, she doesn’t need it. She’s much more a prop in the story than a real character, and the fact Rapp writes her that way is proof to how all of the other characters see her. She’s not a fighter at all — she doesn’t struggle to get free from Orange’s basement. Instead, she contents herself on playing a video game all day long. The video game follows a bunch of children who are in the trees trying to escape the wolves who live on the ground. It’s a game about sacrifice and power. As much as it’s a game, it’s a much larger metaphor for the entire plot of the story.

The Children and the Wolves successfully executes the multiple narrator, as well as successfully executes four distinct voices. This is a book that really does have a voice for everyone, and those voices are only heightened by the obstacles they’re trying to overcome. Rapp’s story is very mature; while all of these characters behave and speak like middle schoolers, never once did I feel like I was reading a younger YA book. It’s intended for older YA readers, and by successfully making readers forget how young these characters really are, Rapp is able to make these characters and their stories even more bleak. More than that, this story will leave you wondering who is in the right and who is in the wrong. As much as it seems like Bounce is entirely in the wrong here, her situations do leave you questioning whether or not this is an act of desperation — a plea for help — more than a nasty trick meant for payback. And as much as the boys feels like tools in her game, are they maybe more right than wrong in doing what they’re doing?

As soon as I finished The Children and the Wolves, I immediately flipped back to the beginning of the story to read it again. The story’s short length but deeply developed characters and complicated situations made me want to go back and see what other layers I could uncover. This book was recommended to me by Blythe Woolston, and I can’t help but see how similar it is to her own books. Rapp’s title will appeal to those who like their stories dark, unsettled, and with compelling and complicated characters. Do not give this to sensitive readers — it’s for your mature ones. I’ll make the bold statement now that I think this title will see some sort of award recognition at the end of the year. Despite being a relatively quiet release, it packs a punch.

I purchased my copy of the book. The Children and the Wolves is available now.

Cover Repackaging & Reaching New Readers

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I love looking at what publishers choose to do with recovering “classic” YA titles. They take a book that’s done well and still in print and give it a new look, hoping to not only keep it relevant to today’s aesthetics but also in hopes of reaching new readers. Here are a few repackaged titles and for the most part, I really like them (even if some fall into the trappings that bother me).

The top two are the first two books in Jodi Lynn Anderson’s Peaches series and were originally published in 2006 (did you know those were Alloy properties? I just learned that). The bottom are the recovered releases. While both the redesigned covers are half girls, I think they are pretty good. They’re very contemporary and I can see teen girls looking for contemporary fiction picking these up without any question as to what kind of story they’ll get. I don’t mind the original covers, actually, but I think they might look a little young and more middle grade than they do YA. I prefer the title and author treatment on the redesign to the original because I think they stand out a little more/look a little more modern. The redesigned covers actually remind me a lot of the repackaged cover for Laurie Halse Anderson’s Catalyst.

I don’t mind the original cover, especially because I think the fact it’s illustrated is unique. That said, I really like the redesigned cover and think it will again stand out to teens. I love how the math element is woven into the image and the girl looks sad without necessarily looking weak (she’s not in the story). I appreciate how the new cover still has the orange hue to it, like the original one. As far as the title and author font, the new one works and I think it’s interesting (and good!) that they’re doing the author name placement in the same way they’re doing it for all of Sarah Dessen’s books. 

I dig these redesigns for Caroline B Cooney’s Janie series a LOT. I remember reading all of these books repeatedly when I was younger, and I think this new look will get new readers to pick them up. I’ve done a cover retrospective on Cooney before (and apologies — some of the images need to be resaved/uploaded). The image on the left is one of the original covers while the one on the right is the new design.

I love how it’s gotten a new creepy vibe. This feels so much more contemporary than the prior cover. It’s simple and easy on the eyes and I think that’s what makes it so appealing.

The mouth popping out of the radio? That could give me a nightmare or two. I guess the one thing that I don’t think works great on the redesigns of these books is the font and size of the title. Seems like it could be bolder or easier to read if it were larger. But the use of a single image in the center of an otherwise black cover just works for me. It has impact.

There are the other two in the series. I appreciate how all of the recovered books still have something reminiscent of the originals to them, too. All of the Cooney recovers are what the current ebook covers are, and they’ll be available in paperback next month.

Do you prefer the older covers? The newer ones? Can you think of any other books that have been out for a couple or more years that have been recovered?