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books

An Attention to Shoes

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I pointed out the trend of girls underwater as one that’ll continue in 2012, but here’s another one that I can’t help noticing again and again: images of shoes. Most of them involve feet or legs and a good ole pair of Chucks. Kind of funny, I think, since I don’t know many teens who wear them — Toms seem to be the shoe of choice today.

Alas. These covers are cute, but after a while, they blend in to one another and they blend into a number of other covers that featured similar stylings or angles. I know there are a few other shoe-related covers (like Cinder and In Honor), but I’m focusing on the ones that hone in on the shoes and feet and have little else going on.


Technically, Sarah Tregay’s Love & Leftovers comes out from HarperCollins at the tail end of this year (December 27), but I’m including it. This romance is written in verse, and the cover reminds me of Susan Juby’s Getting the Girl, also published by Harper. I think it has to do with the fact the girl’s on her tip toes and the shoes are red. That’s not to say I don’t think this cover is cute or appropriate because it is — but it’s far from original or stand out.


I haven’t read Melissa Jensen’s first book, Falling in Love with English Boys, but I knew the second I saw the cover of this book that this was her second book featuring a girl kicking her leg in the air. Weird, right? I like this cover and think it fits the story description. The painting used in place of the faces is effective and cute. It does make the cover stand out a little (and note that the female in the painting appears to be on the side with the male shoes and vice versa). The Fine Art of Truth or Dare will be published by Speak/Penguin in February.



Madeline George’s The Difference Between You and Me offers us no Chucks, at least. This one’s a pair of boots and a pair of very pink, very girly shoes. Perfect for the vibe of two verrrry different girls involved in the story. The cover feels really adult romance to me, and I think that’s a compliment to the cover. I love how the title is centered in a separate oval which looks a bit like a Victorian-inspired mirror might. This feels classic, yet the shoes give it a modern vibe. The only thing that could make this better is getting rid of the pink banner at the top with the author’s name and blurb. I think going with a white font could have been more effective and given the image a fuller effect. George’s book will be published in March by Viking.


The Boy on Cinnamon Street by Phoebe Stone will be published in February by Arthur Levine/Scholastic books. I’m sensing a theme in the contemporary romance covers here. This one is sweet. I love how it’s on blacktop, and I really dig the chalk heart around the title. The font isn’t overwhelming nor is it super bold; it fits into the image itself, which tells a whole story. Let me admit something here: I am not a shoe person. At all. Yet, I am drawn to the shoes the girl at the top of the picture is wearing. What this cover does right that the George cover doesn’t is the author and mini-bio at the top. It’s not in a loud banner color, and it fits the cover itself. The image works as a whole, rather than being put together in separate pieces that don’t quite flow. For me, this is a sweet cover, and I appreciate it for that.


One for the Murphys by Lynda Mullaly Hunt will be published in May by Penguin. So the first thing I thought of when I saw this cover was The Romeo and Juliet Code by Phoebe Stone (sound familiar? Maybe she’s getting all the shoe cover treatments, too. Check out the cover of another one of her books.). The set up is similar in that the front of the photo is from the knees back to the feet, and the girl in the picture is lying away from the camera in a bed of really green grass. Like the Stone cover, the girl’s crossing her Chuck-wearing feet, too. What I find weird about this cover is the giraffe. It looks really Photoshopped into the image and is jarring against the grass, the girl, and the basketball. I get it probably fits in the story with the idea of growing up. I do like the title treatment, and I think the fact it’s circled and DOES stand out against the image as a whole works here.


Veera Hiranandani’s The Whole Story of Half a Girl takes the trend a little differently. The shoes are a focal point, for sure, but I think the frayed knees in the jeans helps make the image a little more stand-out. However, I know I’ve seen this cover before. I can’t pinpoint it, though. This is a sweet cover and I think that, despite being a headless girl, the publisher’s done a good job of representing a half-Indian girl through her skin tone. It’s a bummer it’s not center stage, but it’s not white washed, either. I love the title treatment on this cover, and I think the popped out circle with the swirly white font works. I’m a big fan of a cover where the image is whole and uninterrupted, and I feel this accomplishes that. I like, too, the fact that there’s writing on the toes of the shoes, too. Age appropriate, for sure. Hiranandani’s novel will be published in January by Delacorte.

Moving away from legs with our shoes and onto shoes alone. First is Hannah Moskowitz’s Gone, Gone, Gone, to be published by Simon Pulse in April. This might be one of my favorite covers in a while. It’s evocative and haunting and it achieves this without including a person or a single expression. A pair of empty shoes in a gray room. Perfect. More than that, though, the designer did a great job of making the title stand out just enough and making the rest of the cover text fade into the background. The shoes are telling the entire story. It’s a quiet cover, but it’s a darn effective one. Even in an abundance of shoe covers, this one rises above the pack.

Last up is Aaron Karo’s Lexipros and Cons, to be published by FSG/Macmillan in April, is the loudest cover among the pack for sure. Aside from the almost dizzying orange background, the bright green shoe in the center screams for attention. It’s particularly interesting to look at this cover in conversation with the Moskowitz: they both feature shoes and no people, but they tell such different stories, both because of how the shoe looks and the background. I’m not sure if I’m a fan of this cover, given that the story itself sounds like it’s not the lightest reading (it deals with OCD and the challenges therein); this screams funny book to me. However, there is something to say about being so loud — this cover sure stands out, even if it follows into the hot orange cover trend. I think the use of images in the title itself takes this a little over-the-top, and I wish it had been a straight font treatment.

The main character in this book, by the way, is named Chuck Taylor.

So of all the covers above, I think Gone, Gone, Gone is my favorite — it gives me the right kind of chills as a reader and the solitary image is powerful. I find it fascinating, though, how a couple of these authors seem to be repeat shoe cover receivers. Branding, perhaps?

What do you think? Favorites? Can you think of others that fall into this theme coming out in 2012?

Reviews in the style of Twitter

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With the insane amount of reading that’s gone on for Cybils so far, I’ve had a ton of things pile up for review. Though these reviews go over the 140-character limit style of Twitter, they’re still short and to the point.

Pure Red by Danielle Joseph: This book reminded me a lot of Liz Gallagher’s My Not So Still Life, as both stories portray a girl who is struggling to understand who she is as an artist. Meaning, a little quirky, a little outside the social norms of her school, and inevitably, a little in love with a boy who she believes in unreachable. In this novel, Cassia is really fixated on colors and what the meaning with/behind them is, which was an interesting aspect of the writing itself. But overall, this read was kind of forgettable for me. I wanted more out of the character relationships, especially between Cassia and her father, but there was never an arc to them. More than that, though, it never felt as though Cassia changed from the beginning of the story to the end, other than finally going after Graham’s cute butt, which I heard just a little too much about. That said, this book is clean and the voice is young, so it’s likely a good choice for your middle school readers and those who want a safe pick.

The Berlin Boxing Club by Robert Sharenow: This historical fiction takes place right at the rise of Nazi Germany and follows Karl Stern. He’s made a deal with the infamous Max Schmeling, a boxing legend, and he’ll be receiving lessons in exchange for one of his father’s paintings. The problem is that Karl is Jewish. Even though he doesn’t look like it from the outside, he is, and it’s a secret he guards to the best of his abilities. He doesn’t always win, though, and when he’s outed as a Jew during a high stakes boxing match, Karl’s world and dreams crumble before his eyes. But it only gets worse from there. This emotional, fast-paced book was engaging and the writing made me fall immediately into Karl’s world. However, I found the passage of time to be a huge issue in this book, as months go by with little to no mention; during an era when life changed literally by the second in Germany, I wanted a lot more out of Karl and his life. The ending was also a complete let down, as it was far too tidy and too easy, and it left a lot of strings loose I wanted tied together a little more. Great for fans of historical fiction, especially of the World War II variety outside the actual war itself.

Ten Miles Past Normal by Frances O’Roark Dowell: If ever there were a book to hand off to die hard fans of Catherine Gilbert Murdock’s Dairy Queen series, this might be the one. This story is about Janie Gorman, a girl who is a little different from her peers in more ways than one. When high school starts, she’s determined to make herself fit in, but that’s a little hard to do when you live on a farm and always seem to be bringing that with you wherever you go. Things start to change, though, when Janie learns that being strange is okay and maybe even a good thing. This story is fun and quirky, and while it’s not the strongest written nor have the deepest characters, it’s one that has good appeal to many teen readers. Like Murdock’s book, it’s also a clean read and perfect for younger teen readers and even readers who are a little too old for middle grade books.

What Comes After y Steve Watkins: This story about loss is less about the grieving process so much as it is about resettling post-trauma. Iris’s father’s died, and when she’s sent to live with a cold and unfeeling aunt thousands of miles away, she’s immediately an outcast. Her aunt and cousin are abusive towards her — so much so that they’re put into jail after a violent attack, and she’s sent to live with a foster family. Although this gets a little convoluted-sounding, it’s not. Iris throws her passion and loneliness into taking care of her aunt’s goats, and these become her source of comfort, along with a boy named Littleberry. Though the book was well written, it did drag on quite a while, and at times, it fixated on unnecessary moments that weren’t essential to the plot or character development. Those who like stories of redemption though will appreciate this one. Bonus for a few twists I didn’t see coming in that redemption.

Dreams of Significant Girls by Cristina Garcia: This book follows three girls — Vivien, from New York City via Miami via Cuba; Shirin, from Iran; and Ingrid, from small town Ontario, Canada — as they spend a summer together at a boarding school in Switzerland. It’s a literary novel, so there is little action or movement, but there is a lot of character development along the way. Timing and pacing didn’t work for me, and I found the motivation behind character actions to be completely missing. It didn’t make sense to me why the characters did what they did, since we weren’t allowed into their minds quite enough. This book reminded me a LOT of Nina de Gramont’s Gossip of the Starlings. Wealthy girls who did things at a boarding school because they could just didn’t work for me. That said, some of the writing was downright delectable. Vivien’s obsession with food was clear in the language, and I would have loved to have a taste of some of her meals. The ending of this one, too, was way too convenient. Who knew the girls REALLY had a deeper connection than a few summers together at boarding school? I kind of saw it coming from miles away.

Now is the Time for Running by Michael Williams: Set in Zimbabwe at the height of government rebellion, Deo has seen his unfair share of loss and destruction, but it’s when his mother and grandfather are mercilessly killed that he must take his older brother Innocence and get out as fast as he can. Innocence has a mental disorder, making him much less and older brother to Deo and more like a child. The boys escape Zimbabwe and make their way to South Africa, where they’ve paid for the dream of freedom, but they soon learn that that freedom really doesn’t exist. This emotionally-pounding book is a raw look at the terror and destruction in the lives of kids in this part of the world. I had a problem with Deo as a character though, and while the title sort of explains the entire premise of dealing with tragedy, I needed to get to know him more at the front of the story. He didn’t handle his emotions except through running (and soccer), but I needed just a little more to buy that about him as a character. We’re thrown to personal tragedy too soon to understand his coping mechanics. Innocence was a fabulous character and an heartbreakingly real depiction of the state of mental health and understanding. Moreover, there is a lot of back matter in the story about xenophobia, but that doesn’t play quite the role in the book as it could have — and had that been amped up, even with an additional 25-30 pages of writing, this story would have been even stronger. This book will have appeal to readers who like stories set abroad, those who like tales of survival, and those who have read books like Ishmael Beah’s A Long Way Gone. It’s fiction, but it’s based on reality.

All the Earth, Thrown to the Sky by Joe Lansdale

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Don’t let the cover fool you on this one — while the designers would have you believe Joe Lansdale’s All the Earth, Thrown to the Sky is a contemporary rural novel, it’s not. It’s a historical novel, set during the depths of the Dust Bowl and the Great Depression. This is Lansdale’s first young adult novel, though he has published a host of titles for the adult audience, and that writing experience shines through.

Jack Catcher’s mom dies from an illness (most likely something respiratory-related) when the story starts, and within seconds, we’re also introduced to Jack’s father, who has taken his own life. His father didn’t want to live without his mother, and left a note proclaiming his love for Jack but his inability to carry on. Immediately after meeting Jack’s two dead parents, we’re also tossed into a raging dust storm. Lansdale gives us no breathing room, much like he gives none to Jack. Now all Jack wants to do is get out of town as quick as possible. He has no reason to be here in the middle of Oklahoma anymore.

When the storm passes, Jack’s confronted with a former classmate, Jane, and her little brother Tony, and he learns that they, too, have recently lost their parents. They also want to get out of dodge as fast as they can, but unlike Jack, they have a plan. One of their neighbors, an old man, has also just died (do you sense a theme here?) and Jane knows that he’s got a car. She also somehow had a hunch that Jack might know how to drive, and if they teamed up, they could borrow the car and finally be free. Jack, desperate, agrees to this, and the three are soon in a moving vehicle, leaving the dust-covered plains of Oklahoma behind them.

While Jack suggests going to California, where so many others have found their fortune and new lives, Jane has other plans. She suggests going southeast to Tyler, Texas, where she and Tony have relatives. Going there would ensure a place for them to stay and would get them far enough from where they are.

Except, as Jack and we as reader will learn, what Jane says might not always be the truth.

All the Earth, Thrown to the Sky is a book that is not only realistic in terms of depicting the harsh world of the Great Depression and the heavy, brutal air of the Dust Bowl, but it depicts realistically the relationships that develop among those who are desperate. What stood out to me immediately was the utter drive to live that Jack has — while Jane and Tony also portray this, it’s Jack’s voice the story is told through, and it’s with his story I felt this drive. The weakness Jack’s father showed in the face of losing his wife stands to be the thing that keeps Jack fighting forward; he doesn’t want to be weak and he doesn’t want to give up. He knows that through his own strength he can change his life and do so for the better. He knows it won’t be easy, but he’s willing to give it a chance.

I hesitate to call this a road trip book, but it is a story that’s set on the road. There’s movement as Jack, Jane, and Tony go from their roots in Oklahoma toward their ultimate goal in Tyler. But it’s not an easy road. Along the way, they run into some of the most notorious outlaws of the time, and they’re not willing to go easy on these kids. As if the death of parental units wasn’t enough, these characters will witness even more death. One murder will happen right in front of them, and it’s something with which they just deal. And that’s something I think is what makes this book so strong — the fact that life sucks but these characters soldier on. They certainly process this loss on their own terms, but they know in order to live their own lives, they have to keep moving forward. In addition to their run-ins with outlaws, Jack, Jane, and Tony met people who had less-than-good intentions for them; but, given that they’re strong willed and determined, those will become just parts of their adventure. Their travel experience is a series of adventures and trials that they need to pass.

Jane was, hands down, one of my favorite characters in a long time. She’s tricky. When we meet her in the novel, everything she tells Jack feels authentic. But the further the story moves and the more opportunities she has to interact with other characters and situations, both Jack and the reader begin seeing that Jane might be selling a lot of lies. And they’re not even white lies. They’re full out circus tales — a more-than-apt description that those who read the book will appreciate. She’s tough as nails and she goes after exactly what she wants. For a teen girl during this era, it’s not the norm. She’s bucking that though, and I applaud Lansdale for making her such a great and memorable character.

The pacing in this story is spot on, though the ending is a bit too tidy and a bit too easily-explained for some of the exploits that occur in the second half of the novel. Jane herself calls this a bit of an Odyssey that they take off on, and that is perhaps one of the best ways to describe the tale. Fans of that novel or those looking for a take on that storyline will appreciate this. For me, though, I wanted just a little bit more of that up front. It made the ending weaker because I wasn’t prepared for some of the side adventures that would occur. Jane comes out as a bigger escape artist than I suspected, and she is such in a manner that leaves her companions hanging. It went astray from the character I’d expected, though I suspect for Jack, it made sense. On the whole, though, the writing in this story is tight and tidy, and I think Lansdale, despite this being his first young adult novel, nails the teen voices.

Pass this book off to fans of historical fiction, especially stories set in rural America. I think those who love books like Kirby Larson’s Hattie Big Sky will appreciate this one, as will those who appreciate honest tales of survival situated in real-life events. Fans of great female characters will love Jane, even if they disagree with some of her methods of getting herself ahead of the game.

Review copy received from the publisher.

Variant by Robison Wells

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Benson has been accepted to Maxfield Academy, a prestigious school whose existence means he won’t have to stick around in his dead-end life as a foster kid, jumping from one home to the next. But the minute he arrives at the school, he realizes something is wrong. For one thing, there aren’t any adults around. The kids all teach themselves, receiving instructions via computer. They’re sometimes instructed to complete pointless or cruel tasks, and there are terrible punishments for anyone who breaks rules.
Benson soon realizes that the school is a prison. Anyone who tries to leave is subject to punishment – and some of them just disappear. Benson – and a few allies (or are they allies?) – try to discover what the true purpose of the school is, because it’s definitely not educating its students. They also begin working on a daring plan to escape.
Variant has everything a good sci-fi thriller should: a quick pace, plenty of twists, a good narrative voice, and a few surprises. While I could predict a few of the events (anyone who’s read any amount of science fiction will be able to), Wells still managed to throw me for a pretty big loop near the end, and an even bigger one in the final chapter.
Variant isn’t earth-shaking or life-changing. Benson is well-drawn and most ancillary characters have some depth, but I wouldn’t say there’s much depth to the story as a whole. The writing is taut and propels the story forward, but it’s never lovely or particularly clever. It doesn’t try to be. Variant is a solid example of novel as entertainment. Like Harlan Coben’s Shelter or Ally Carter’s Heist Society, it succeeds because of its clever plot and quick pace.
I’d recommend Variant to readers who like thrillers. It will also have appeal to readers who like dystopias, although this book is NOT really a dystopia. The science fiction element is important, but it’s light and not very complex, meaning people who only have a passing interest in sci fi would have no problem getting hooked. If you like your books page-turners that won’t let you set them down until you finish, Variant is your match.

Three Books That Didn’t Work for Me, Part Two

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I did a previous installment of this a week ago, and I found it such a great way to pinpoint what my exact problems were with certain books that I’ve decided to make it an irregular feature. Below are three short reviews of books I’ve read recently that just didn’t work for me and why.

Texas Gothic by Rosemary Clement-Moore

What it’s about: Amy Goodnight comes from a long line of witches, but she’s always tried to play it down, unlike her older sister, Phin, who embraces it. Amy and Phin are ranch-sitting for their kooky aunt for the summer in Texas when strange things start happening. Amy is feeling a sinister presence and seeing a ghostly apparition, and it might have something to do with the bones that were discovered buried near their neighbors’ land. Speaking of neighbors, the one living next door is pretty hot, and he and Amy develop a crackling romance, despite the fact that his family and the Goodnights don’t get along.

Why it didn’t work for me: I mostly found the story boring. A well-told ghost story can still manage to grip me, despite the fact that my interest in them has waned since I was a kid, but the pace here was too slow and the ghostly aspects dull. The mystery was too predictable as well. (I’m really not a good guesser when it comes to mysteries, so when I see the answer coming a mile away, that’s not a good sign.)

Who might enjoy it: The romance between Amy and Ben is awfully cute, so people who like their supernatural stories with a dash of romance – and even a little steam! – will dig it. Big fans of ghost stories will find plenty to enjoy here, but it’s not for the casual ghost story reader.

Blood Wounds by Susan Beth Pfeffer

What it’s about: Willa lives with her mother, stepfather, and two stepsisters. Her father, whom she has not seen in a long time, has just killed his new wife and children, and the police are worried that he may be on his way to attack Willa and her mother as well. Contrary to the jacket copy, this is not a thriller. The events concerning Willa’s father are resolved very early on, and the rest of the book is about Willa dealing with latent problems concerning her mother, stepfather, and stepsiblings, as well as problems of her own.

Why it didn’t work for me: I picked this up because I thought it would be a thriller, and it wasn’t. But even when I reassessed it as a family drama, the book still failed. I’ve seen other readers mention they thought the writing here was strong, but I felt it was pretty weak. It was mostly tell and almost no show, so despite the short length, I slogged through it. Because of this, I never felt the suspense near the beginning, and I never felt that anything was at stake in the rest of the book. All subplots felt underdeveloped and I didn’t get a feel for any of the characters beyond “She’s the nice one,” “She’s the selfish one,” and so on.

Who might enjoy it: I’ll be honest and admit that family dramas are really not my thing. Readers interested in the unique problems blended families face may enjoy this one, but they’ll have to get past the poor execution.

When the Sea is Rising Red by Cat Hellisen

What it’s about: Felicita is a High-Lammer, a noble from a powerful house. Her best friend, Ilven, has just become engaged to a noble from another house. Ilven is so distraught over the prospect of marrying a stranger and the changes it will cause in her life that she commits suicide – she jumps off a cliff into the sea. Soon, Felicita is faced with the same prospect, but rather than kill herself, she fakes her death and runs away. She falls in with a group of lower-class Hobs and becomes entangled with their leader, Dash. Dash has plans for the city – and it involves dangerous magic called up from the sea, magic somehow caused by Ilven’s death.

Why it didn’t work for me: I thought the world-building was too confusing. What are Hobs? What are Lammers? Why are they called that? What exactly do the houses do? How does magic work, and how exactly was the magic from the sea called? I could tell that Hellisen was really trying to create a unique world, but I mostly felt left in the dark. Aside from that, I had problems with Felicita. She makes the decision to run away from home, but after that she’s very passive. Most of the book involves her simply observing others or being coerced into going places. Near the end, she makes an active decision, but it doesn’t have motive. This is also a book I firmly feel should have been written in past tense instead of present tense.

Who might enjoy it: The writing is often lovely, and it makes for a spooky, atmospheric read. Readers who are drawn to that sort of tone may enjoy this one. I’d also recommend it to readers looking for a unique fantasy world, as long as they don’t mind not understanding a lot of it. 
 
Review copies of Blood Wounds and When the Sea is Rising Red received from the publishers. Texas Gothic borrowed from my local library. Texas Gothic and Blood Wounds are available now, and When the Sea is Rising Red will be released February 2012.