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Three Debuts in Speed Reviews

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One of the fun things about the Cybils is how wide-ranging the reading is, even within a field that sounds relatively narrow. YA Fiction covers not just traditional contemporary novels, but also mysteries and historical fiction. Because of that, I’ve had the chance to read a ton of debut novels, covering ground in each of these genres. Here’s a quick look at three debuts I’ve read recently.

Deadly Cool by Gemma Halliday isn’t Halliday’s real debut novel, but it is her debut into the young adult field. Hartley’s day at school starts pretty crappy: she learns that her boyfriend Josh might be cheating on her. What else could explain the condom wrapper she found, seeing she and he aren’t sleeping together? Hartley’s determined to get to the bottom of this and find out whether the rumors of her boyfriend being with the Courtney Cline, one of the members of the school’s color guard.

But when she gets to Josh’s house later in the day to snoop out the story, she finds Courtney dead in his closet. What started as a bad day has turned out to be a heck of a lot worse than Hartley thought, and now she’s investigating murder.

Halliday’s mystery is fresh and funny. Hartley has a snarky voice, and the story has a bit of a noir vibe, reminiscent a bit of Heathers. It’s not going to please hard core mystery fans because the mystery itself is overall silly and the ending is more than a bit tell-y, but the ride to get to that point is really enjoyable. It’s a lighter read and one that will likely appeal to fans of the Gallagher Girls series and, as I’m told, fans of Veronica Mars. Halliday’s writing is enjoyable, and she kept me hooked from the first page. I liked Hartley a lot because she’s stubborn and hard-headed and she’s determined to get to the bottom of the murder (err, murders, as it turns out).

While it was a cheating boyfriend that set the story into motion, what worked for me was that the book was not ultimately about that at all. In fact, there was little romance or male-female romantic tension, aside from a few brief moments Hartley has with a boy named Chase, who actually ends up playing a role in a different manner. Hartley’s an independently strong female in the story, and she doesn’t spend days bemoaning the fact some girl took advantage of Josh, which is a trope I see far too often. Instead, she lets her feelings turn to actions. Yes, it’s a little over the top, but that’s what you get with this style and genre, and it’s meant to be a fun ride. I’m eager to read the second book next year.

Amy Fellner Dominy’s OyMG follows Ellie Taylor as she struggles to come to terms with discrimination heads on — religious discrimination, that is. She’s been accepted to the Christian Society Speech and Performance Arts summer camp, and it’s an opportunity for her to potentially earn scholarship money to better her education. She’s passionate about speech and eager to dive into the camp, but when she runs face to face with a director who openly and actively talks about her dislike for Jews, well, Ellie’s torn. She’s Jewish.

I think a lot of readers will relate to Ellie here, especially because it takes on a topic of discrimination I think a lot of teens tackle regularly. That’s not making light of religious discrimination, but the way it’s handled here is subtle and personal, and it’s done well. Ellie herself is a believable teen, and she’s one who many teens will relate to easily.

However, I had a hard time buying the concept of the book as a whole. Ellie’s family — her grandfather, in particular — are strongly Jewish, and we’re shown this immediately. When she drops the bomb that she wants to attend this speech camp at a Christian center, there’s little challenge to that decision. Her family questions it but never actually investigates it, and I find it hard to believe they wouldn’t put in their due diligence before sending her off. Had they done that, I suspect the entire story wouldn’t have taken off because they’d be aware of the problems that’d arise. Are these my adult sensibilities talking? Maybe. But I wanted this aspect to be handled a little better to make the chain of events stronger and more believable. The book will, no doubt, appeal to readers who not only have wondered who they are and where they fit in but also actually made strides toward figuring it out rather than getting caught up in the questions. It’s a quick and clean read, perfectly fine for older tween readers and the entire range of teen readers.

One of the more literary books, Brian Farrey’s With or Without You explores the lives of two gay boys who just graduated from high school. Evan, who tells the story, is open about his sexuality, and while his parents are aware he’s gay, he hasn’t been forthright in admitting to having a boyfriend, Erik, who he keeps a secret. Davis, Evan’s best friend, isn’t as open about his sexuality, partially because he and Evan have experiences violence because of who they are, and partially because he needs to figure out what he’s going to do now that his father’s kicking him out of his house (he is 18, after all). While Evan and Davis made a pact to one another to move to Chicago after their final summer of freedom, Erik throws a bit of a wrench into the plans when he tells Evan he’s taken an opportunity in California and slips him a plane ticket to join. Now Evan has to decide whether he wants to spend his life with his best friend and confidant or his boyfriend.

Farrey’s novel delves into the LGBTQ world, and it’s one I haven’t seen portrayed quite this way in ya fiction. It’s less a story of coming out and more a story of figuring out who you are AFTER you’ve come out and have made peace with the fact you have. Davis is not as comfortable as Evan is with his sexuality, and it ultimately causes a lot of chaos through the novel. Much of it isn’t pleasant or healthy, as it deals with a community within the LGBTQ world that believes AIDS is a badge of honor. I was disappointed with the wrap up in this story line because I didn’t believe Evan’s actions. There’s another secondary storyline wrapped up in Evan’s art work I felt wasn’t as strong as it could have been, as I found myself pulled out of the story when I read the descriptions of the meaning behind the art on his window pane.

When I finished With or Without You, I wasn’t quite sure if this is the sort of book teen readers would appreciate as much as maybe college age, 20-somethings would. I actually thought it’d be the kind of book those who fell in love with Blake Nelson’s Girl would appreciate because it had that sort of vibe and air to it — a compliment, not a critique. The longer I sat on this book though, thinking about the title and about the issues raised within it, the more I realize this book wasn’t set in today’s world. It was set in the 90s, like Nelson’s. It’s subtle, but it makes sense, even thinking about the reference in the title alone. For me, that complicated the novel and the target audience, as I don’t think the issues raised here will have quite the immediacy to today’s teens as it would to those who were teens a decade (or longer) ago. Not that there won’t be teens who read it, but it’ll be a smaller audience.

Coming up & Going down

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I don’t usually share interesting links from the week, but it’s something I’ve been thinking about posting on an (irregular) basis. It was just good luck there was a lot of great stuff to share this week when all I really intended to post about was an upcoming feature on the blog.

This month, we didn’t do our regular Twitterview because we’re doing a two-week long series at the end of the month featuring the young adult debut authors who are part of the Class 2k12. Each of these authors has done a mini-Twitterview and shared a guest post for us from a pool of topics we brainstormed, ranging from serious to the completely ridiculous. You’re in for a treat. And don’t worry — we have some of our own content to post those weeks, as well, including our favorite books from the year.

(And if anyone’s interested in making a graphic for this two-week feature, let me know).

Onto some of the interesting links this week:

  • Cecil Castellucci shared a fantastic book list for young readers that features teens involved in protests. It’s a timely list and a topic I hadn’t thought a whole lot about as a reader, but I can see the great possibilities here for displays and discussion.
  • Kirkus and School Library Journal released their “Best of” lists for 2011 this week. I find the cross over titles pretty unsurprising, but what struck me were the titles that were clear outliers in the best of lists. I’ve read a lot of books this year, and many of these sort of came as shocking choices as “best of” when other titles were left off. Noticeably missing from these lists, (but not the Publisher’s Weekly list)? John Corey Whaley’s Where Things Come Back which I think is a front runner for not only the Morris Award, but it has serious potential for the Printz, too. What’s most interesting to me about these lists is that we as outsiders never know what the criteria are that go into selecting the titles. What qualities are the list creators looking at? Are they looking at literary merit (and then I question some choices) or are they looking at appeal (and then I question some more choices)? We don’t know. “Best of” lists are so subjective, and that’s what leaves me fascinated. How is it some books continue to be “best of” titles and how do others fail to make any lists when they meet as many criteria as possible?
  • That question leads me right to another one I have from a blog I hope other people are reading as regularly as me: how is it that Nova Ren Suma’s Imaginary Girls is not on the list of contenders for the American Library Association’s Best Fiction for Young Adults list? This is a book that we have praised right here, as well as a book we think has serious potential to be a Printz contender. Best Fiction titles come from committee nominations, as well as field nominations. Those field nominations need to be seconded by a committee member to join the list for consideration at ALA Midwinter, where the final list is determined. I’m really shocked and disappointed that this title didn’t make the cut. That’s not to say it’s the committee’s fault, but it’s a head scratcher and a disappointment. These selection lists help librarians in making purchasing and reader’s advisory decisions, so it’s a bit disconcerting to not see a title like this one even being considered.
  • Are you a librarian or teacher who needs books for your school or classroom library? Your budget’s been cut or you have no budget? Get in touch with Maureen Johnson. She wants to help you. Watching Maureen this morning as she learned how few budgets exist for books in the library/school world has been interesting, and she’s dedicated to making some sort of impact about this. Her email is maureen@maureenjohnsonbooks.com.

Cybils: A Mid-Season Report from the Trenches

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Last year, I wrote about my experience on the Cybils YA Fiction panel at the very end of reading season. This year, I thought I’d mix things up and talk about what things are shaking now, at the little-more-than-midway point for round one.

As a round one panelist, the job is pretty simple at first: read. Read a lot. Each book needs at least two readers, and we had 196 nominations in our category. That breaks down to about 60-odd books per person over the course of the two and a half month period. Of course, it’s not perfect math, but it’s roughly a book per day. So far, I’ve knocked out 150 titles. NOT in the last month and a half, mind you, but over the course of the last year. I know I still have a few I’m going to go back and revisit, simply because it has been a year or more since reading some of the titles.

We’re lucky as usual to have a 50-page rule. If a book isn’t working, we get the chance to stop and move on to the next thing. Last year, I felt wary about using this because I never knew whether it was me or the book at page 50 that wasn’t working; this year, though, I’ve made fine use of it. If a book isn’t working by page 50, the reasons are both on me and on the book, and that’s a valid reason to stop. Since the Cybils take literary merit AND appeal into account, that 50 pages are crucial; they can set the tone for both. Plus, because books are read by two panelists, someone else can budge in after their read and tell me why I was wrong. Along the way, books we find worth considering we mark onto personal short lists. The lists can be as long or short as we want through the initial reading process.

Jackie, panel organizer, then drops the bombs on us. Last year, she didn’t give a heads up on it, but this year, she was kind enough to give us dates. The bomb? We start getting short list limits. A couple weeks ago, we had to have no more and no fewer than 15 books each. And tomorrow, we have to have no more and no fewer than 10. But it only gets harder because not only do we have to whittle our lists to 10, we have to read every book on everyone else’s short list at this point all the way through. The 50 page rule is out for any book on a short list.

Knocking my short list to 10 hasn’t been as hard this year as it was last year, and not because I think the books this year are any different than last year in quality. Rather, it feels like in having read so many of them, the ones that are strong contenders for me are the ones I’m still remembering or thinking about this far in. Am I sad cutting some out I really liked? Absolutely. But I know when we have to plead a case for what should make final cuts, I’m only going to be able to rally behind a couple of them. So in thinking that way, it’s not as painful.

In reading all these books, I’ve found some really interesting trends in this year’s young adult nominees. There’s been a lot of cross over when it comes to topics, including a wealth of books about grief (and loss ranging from parents to siblings to friends and even whole families), a handful of books that incorporated some sort of scavenger hunt (or some set of instructions that leads the story forward), music (either performance by or listening to by the main character), characters who are photography whizzes or are surrounded by photography in some way, and more. In fact, some of the coincidences are so strange, I made a bingo card of them. I’ll share that later, though.

Because the Cybils takes nominations from anyone, I think the pool of books let me read a lot of books I’d otherwise never choose (and not to mention, I read a lot so far I hadn’t even heard of before I had to read them). In doing that, themes I otherwise didn’t think about as much emerged. I thought I’d share a few of them for anyone looking to expand their reading, build a display or book list, or fill in potential collection holes.

Africa

All of these books take place either partially or entirely in Africa. This was probably the most surprising trend I found. Two take place in Zimbabwe and feature war as a central force in the story.

American Experience
All three of these stories feature a Latina girl at the center of the story, as she works through what it means to have that heritage while pursuing the American dream. Bonus: all three take place in Texas.

LGBTQ Friendly
I’m really loving this trend. These books come in so many different flavors and explore the idea of sexuality through many lenses. Some are contemporary and some are historical, but what I think I’ve appreciated most is in this field, we’ve moved from the coming out stories — the ones where sexuality is THE THING of the story — and we’ve come to accept that it’s just a part of the story, instead of the whole story itself.

Sports
Maybe the biggest trend this year has been sports, and it’s a surprising trend because it doesn’t feel like I’ve read many sports books. But I have. Sports range from football to basketball to running, ballet, biking, and even drag racing. It’s an impressive range of talent. I know this list is going to leave some of the titles from our nominations out since there ARE so many.

1980-something
I’m filing this one under a trend that bothers me a little bit. Books set in the 1980s are tricky. They’re far enough in the past that the experiences of the characters don’t really resonate with today’s teens, and it feels inauthentic to label them historical fiction if they’re not centered around some historical event. It’s still recent history for adults but it’s not for teens. A couple of these books are actually historical fiction (the Moss and Wallace titles) but the others are only set in the 80s, and the setting can, at times, be very subtle.

This is just a sample of some of the interesting coincidences in the nominees so far. I’ve got a few other themes pop up in my reading, but I want to read through some more titles before building those lists, too. I’ll share them when the new year rolls around.

If you’re interested in reading panelist reviews of nominated titles, you’re in luck. If you go here to the list of nominees, reviews are linked beneath.

Silent in the Sanctuary & Silent on the Moor by Deanna Raybourn

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I enjoyed Silent in the Grave so much, I promptly picked up its sequel, Silent in the Sanctuary, and devoured it within a couple of days. Lady Julia has taken a holiday with some of her family in Italy to recover from her husband’s murder, but she is called back to England early by her father. With her comes a young Italian man who seems to be quite taken with her. To Julia’s surprise, her father has invited Brisbane to stay at the family estate, and he has brought a fiancee.
The gathering at the estate is actually quite large, including several of Julia’s siblings, a couple cousins, a few friends, and a frightful aunt (of course). Several of the guests dislike one another (hilarious conversations are had due to this) and soon, a murder occurs. To everyone’s surprise, Julia’s cousin confesses, but Julia and Brisbane are unconvinced she is guilty. Naturally, they team up to uncover the truth.
I really enjoyed getting to know more of Julia’s immediate family. Their personalities are as colorful as their names (examples: Eglamore and Lysander), and they provide subplots that are nearly as interesting as the main mystery. Speaking of subplots, the best one here is Brisbane’s fiancee. Does he really love her? What about Julia? The explanation is interesting and surprising.
In Silent on the Moor, Brisbane has bought a property on the moor in Yorkshire and invited Julia’s sister, Portia, to stay to help him settle in. Despite the fact that he has explicitly told Julia not to come, she does, and there she finds that Brisbane is sharing the house with a strange family. The family has secrets to rival Brisbane’s, and Julia becomes caught up in both.
Silent on the Moor was a bit of a disappointment. In this third installment, Raybourn makes a pretty big shift in tone as well as plot. While the first two books had juicy, interesting mysteries as their centerpieces, Silent on the Moor forgoes a strong mystery entirely. In its place is a spooky tone and a few strange happenings that never add up to a true whodunnit. I read page after page, waiting for the mystery to present itself, and it never did.
Instead, Raybourn focuses on Brisbane’s tortured past and Lady Julia’s attempts to figure out if he wants her or not (and if she wants him or not), all set on the moody moor that Brisbane calls home. Those parts are interesting, but they’re not enough to sustain an entire novel. The style is very reminiscent of Wuthering Heights, a classic novel I don’t particularly care for. The main reason I dislike it is because the characters are so unlikeable, and Raybourn comes dangerously close to doing the same thing with Brisbane here. Raybourn’s trademark humor is also almost entirely missing, including the witty repartee between the two leads. Instead, they mope.
Will this less than stellar installment prevent me from reading the rest of the series? Probably not. I fell in love with the characters in the first two novels, and the end of the third seems to indicate a shift back to what I loved there. I can’t really fault an author for trying something a little different, maybe a little ambitious. It certainly worked for other readers. As for me, I’ll be glad to get back to Lady Julia and Brisbane exchanging barbs while getting into far too much trouble solving crimes.

The Watch that Ends the Night by Allan Wolf

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I’m not going to lie. When I pick up a book that starts with a cast list, I get nervous. Really nervous. I know the book is going to ask a lot of me and I’m going to have to remember who these people are.

Fortunately, Allan Wolf’s The Watch that Ends the Night proved me wrong in my worry, which was a huge relief, given this book is written entirely in verse, and the idea of having to suss out multiple characters within a verse novel seemed incredibly daunting.

If the title wasn’t enough of a clue, Wolf’s novel is a fictionalized account of the sailing of the Titanic in 1912. As much as this is a fictional story, the voices Wolf uses are actually based on real people who were aboard the ship; he offers a really great guide in the back of the novel talking about the personal histories and stories upon which he based his characters, and having been so engrossed in the story, I found myself eager to read the back matter and learn more about the real histories of these people. I note this because it’s rare I want to read the back matter. In this case, though, I couldn’t get enough because Wolf’s book was so well done, he left me desiring more.

I’m not going to offer a summary of this book because it should be fairly obvious what happens and how it all ends. But what’s worth noting is how Wolf manages to take a story that’s been done and make it entirely new and fresh while also providing some of the strongest written verse I’ve read in a long time and simultaneously rounding out fully-fleshed characters in a multi-voiced novel. There are 24 characters in this novel, two of which are non-human, including a mouse and the ice burg. The characters range all social classes and statuses, as well as run the range of immigrant experiences. There are those making the trip because they want to get back to America, while there are those making the trip because they’re trying to escape to America and freedom from their past in Europe. There are businessmen and there are third-class children, and each of them has a voice and a story they add. Their individual voices each add a layer to the ship and to what the Titanic really was — much more than a vessel of movement but an entire place and an entire historical moment.

As much as hearing from all the layers of the social landscape was valuable in constructing the story, what I think I liked best was that we also get the entire social stratus of the ship’s crew. We have the captain and the navigator (who will tell you their jobs are very, very different), and we also have the shipbuilder, the cook, and the postman. We’re going from first class in jobs to third class in jobs, and the parallels to those aboard the ship for their personal reasons are smartly crafted. Since each of these 24 characters gets a chance to talk, as readers, we see how vast the stories and struggles are, and we are momentarily removed from what we know is going to happen to them all. They each speak up and offer the good and the bad, and as readers, we’re poised to feel certain things — we’re happy for those on their way for a new opportunity in America and we’re disgruntled at the inequality at accommodations, as swindlers get their time in swanky first class and those who so deserve a better life live below decks. Of course, on the Titanic, even third class isn’t that awful. At least, that’s kind of what we’re lead to believe from the characters. We also get the same perspectives from the crew, as the ship builder marvels at what he’s done, the captain talks about his vital role in the success of the trip, and the postman and cook offer us the below decks view.

Wolf pulls us into the story immediately, and the story really is that there are 24 stories here. It’s not that the ship’s going down. At least, it’s not in the moments we’re not reading from the point of view of the iceberg or reading the voice of the undertaker. In those moments, we’re pulled from the drama aboard the Titanic and reminded that indeed, this isn’t going to have the resolution we’re hoping for as readers. It doesn’t take us out of the story but further insists that the story has a multitude of ways it could be told. As action picks up, so does the intensity of the varied voices.

Here’s where I point out the biggest problem of the book for me and, I think, for a lot of readers: of the 24 voices, only one is a teenager. She’s a refugee, and while her story is compelling, it’s a tiny fraction of the entire book. This book features primarily adults, which makes sense, but it leaves me questioning why this is for the young adult audience, aside from the fact this feels like one of those books that would make for an excellent classroom read. That’s not a comment meant to denigrate the work, but rather, it’s a comment on the strength of the writing and discussion-worthy merit. As a reader, I would have loved more of the teen voices here, as I do think there is a large readership for Titanic-based stories for teenagers, and I think that’s only going to be furthered in the next year with the 100th anniversary and re-release of the film.

While I could see how this book might be a slower read for many, I was glued and found myself reading it in just a couple of sittings. The verse propels the action forward because it’s tight and varied. Each of the characters has their own style, and it’s evident through the way the verse is crafted. I love good poetry, and this was good poetry. It should be obvious this book will appeal to readers who love stories of the Titanic, as well as those who like a good novel in verse. This is an investment, and it’s one that pays off in the end. I also think this book has sort of flown under the radar this year in the ya field, and it’s one I see having strong Printz potential.