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books

Past Perfect by Leila Sales

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It’s another summer at Essex Historical Colonial Village for Chelsea, but unlike the last ten years of being forced to be a part of this reenactment because of her parents, she’s excited this year to have best friend Fiona along for the ride. But as much as she’s excited about that, Chelsea’s still down in the dumps about the breakup she had with boyfriend Ezra. She wants to get over him, and while she thinks that it’s possible to do so this summer with her best friend, when she discovers that Ezra is also working the summer at Essex, Chelsea becomes less and less sure of herself and her ability to move onward and upward.

Add to that a war between Chelsea’s historical reenactment village and the neighboring Civil War reenactment site, an unraveling of secrets about that neighboring site, a boy taking a shine to Chelsea who isn’t Ezra, and a quest to become an ice cream connoisseur, and you have a story that is much more than a simple breakup recovery plot line.

Sales’s trademark humor, present in her debut novel Mostly Good Girls, permeates her second novel, despite this book being an entirely different story than her first. The writing is easy to read and fall into. Sales builds Chelsea’s world immediately, and the reader never falls out of it, despite being a little bit of a strange and quirky one — how often do you read about teens who spend their summers working in historical reenactment sites and not just that, but they enjoy being members of living history? More than that, though, I felt that the discussions of history and the experience of working in such a historical world were authentic to the teens. Never once did the kids feel like they were stereotypes, and I think part of why this happens is because Chelsea cuts these ideas off from the start. She makes clear that yes, there are stereotypical teens who want to work in these places, but she emphasizes that she is not one of them . . . and by doing that, we see that no one else she introduces us to is one of them either, thereby leaving the reader to see that there aren’t stereotypes here.

I bring that up because that’s one of the strengths of Sales’s writing — her character development. Chelsea is a fully fleshed character, and she’s immediately engaging from the onset of the story. She’s a bit sarcastic and extremely stubborn, despite thinking that she’s anything but. While this fleshes her out as a character, it was what struck me as why I never felt myself liking or connecting to Chelsea. She’s stubborn about moving forward, but more than that, she’s too stubborn to even give readers an opportunity to understand why she is stubborn. We’re tossed into her post-Ezra world without really learning why Ezra was such a fantastic boyfriend for her and why she would fall into such deep mourning over the loss of her relationship. I found her to be a bit of a drag because of this. I needed more from her about why he mattered and why she needed to get over him. I didn’t find myself sympathizing with Chelsea’s break up, nor did I find myself rooting for her when she has the chance to move on with another guy.

I emphasize her because one of the strengths of this book is that the secondary characters, including Chelsea’s best friend Fiona, not only stand on their own, but they’re important in developing our understanding for Chelsea herself. We learn through an argument between Fiona and Chelsea why Ezra was such an important relationship for her, and we learn through the budding relationship Chelsea has with another guy during the summer why she’s a little gun shy about being with someone new. More than fleshing out the teen characters, though, Sales also does a good job of developing good parents. This is one of those rare young adult novels that features married parents who are happy, and they have a good relationship with their daughter. There’s a moment in the book between Chelsea and her father that will stick with me for a long time because it really highlights how true and honest a parent-child relationship can be done, and it seems so rare to read such a well-done moment. I think many readers will appreciate this relationship because it is memorable and it ultimately guides Chelsea in changing her attitude and the course of her summer.

The mechanics of the writing are solid, with believable dialog and the character relationships are, as I’ve alluded to, authentic. My one reservation in this, though, is that I think some scenes did drag a little bit — there were moments, especially when it came to character conversations, that dialog went on a little too long and there was too little action and movement. I think this can be explained a bit through Chelsea’s stubbornness and unwillingness to act, and I think that contributed a bit to why I didn’t care for her as a character. It was tough for me to hold my interest in her growth through the story against the characteristics that made me dislike her as a character, but fortunately, Sales’s writing helped keep me engaged.

One of the things that stood out for me in the writing was the setting, as it was entirely unique and yet easy to buy into. I’m not a huge history person, but I found myself loving the historical references and setting (within the present, that is). It was quirky enough without trying too hard to be so.

Past Perfect will appeal to a wide range of contemporary ya fiction readers, and one of the biggest strengths of this book, I think, is how it’s a safe one to hand to your younger teen readers as much as your older ones. There are no language nor situational issues to consider, though I think the discussion of the importance of relationships might resonate more with older teens than younger. Fans of Sarah Dessen will likely appreciate this story of growth and self discovery, as will those who like Siobhan Vivian, Jenny Han, and Sales’s first novel. I’m a little at odds with the cover on this book, and while it’s not something I like to bring up within a review, I think it’s worth mentioning — I see the cover as both a strength and as completely misleading. It doesn’t fit into the story at all, but it does offer a peak into the tone of the novel, and it has a certain level of appeal to it that a cover that might feature, say, a historical site, would.

Review copy received from the publisher. Past Perfect is available now.

Bigger than a Breadbox by Laurel Snyder

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Twelve-year-old Rebecca’s mother has just packed up their car and carted off Rebecca and her two-year-old brother Lew with barely any notice, driving from their home in Baltimore to stay with Gran in Atlanta, Georgia. Rebecca knew that her mother and father were having some issues (ever since her father wrecked his cab and became unemployed, the house hasn’t been the same), but the moments of fights and utter silence hadn’t prepared her for this, this utter abandonment of her father. She didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye to her best friend, Mary Kate. She was just pulled along, with her mom making all the decisions, uprooted from her beloved city of Baltimore, her comfortable row house home, to an utterly unfamiliar landscape. Atlanta is fine enough, she guesses. It’s warmer (which is actually completely strange), and it’s nice to see Gran again. But how is it that Rebecca had no choice in the matter? She misses the seagulls that flew overhead constantly at home, misses her father and his love for anchovies on pizza, misses her old school and the way she just fit there.

But everything changes when she finds a magic breadbox in the attic of her Gran’s home. Yes, a magic breadbox, one that can instantly provide anything that Rebecca asks for (with conditions, of course, as any proper magic item has). While experimenting, she finds that the items requested must be able to fit within the box itself, and must be real. No magic wands or unicorn horns allowed! But even with these restrictions, Rebecca soon finds that this magic breadbox, while not making her current situation any more palatable (missing her father never truly goes away, and she is still ridiculously mad at her mother’s lack of consideration in this whole matter), some things really do help: lip glosses and extra sticks of gum are handy presents to get the popular girls at school to like her, an iPod that plays her father’s favorite song (“Hungry Heart” by Bruce Springsteen) makes her feel a bit closer to her father, and a collectible spoon for her mother’s collection pleases her mom beyond belief and helps heal their rift just a bit.

However, soon Rebecca realizes that these items are not just appearing out of some void. They’re actually coming from somewhere, from other people. Has she become a thief without even realizing it? In addition to straining to understand both her mother and her father, Rebecca now has to try to figure out who she is exactly–what she has done, what kind of a sister she wants to be to Lew, and how she can make amends for this magic that at one point was her only consolation.

Magic breadboxes, Bruce Springsteen songs, and divorce. Laurel Snyder weaves these seemingly disparate elements into Bigger than a Breadbox for an incredibly realistic (despite the magic), charming, bittersweet, and poignant book. Snyder’s Penny Dreadful was one of my favorite books of last year, and with this book, she has cemented her place among my favorite middle grade authors. Rebecca is an incredibly realistic character, one whose emotions, like any twelve-year-old facing a family crisis, run the gamut from hurt to angry to vengeful to selfish to apologetic. She hides her feelings inside at first, unable and unwilling to see her mother’s point of view. And, honestly, what twelve-year-old, ripped from her beloved home, would be willing or able to see an adult’s point of view? The selfish aspects of Rebecca make this character, make her relatable and true. Twelve year olds are concerned with themselves and their lives above all else, are concerned with fitting it at school and having a place in the world. Snyder’s ability to make Rebecca flawed yet lovable is spot-on. Rebecca only begins to soften once she realizes that she is not the center of her world and that she is not the only one who is hurting: Lew is, too.

Another strength of Bigger than a Breadbox is its sense of place. Snyder vividly evokes both Atlanta and Baltimore. Even though barely any of the novel takes place in Baltimore, we are transported there by Rebecca’s wistful memories. The reader can see the beady eyes of the seagulls that Rebecca brings to Baltimore through her box, can hear the crunch of the Kandy Kakes wrappers that she wishes for Lew, and can taste the saltiness of the hot gravy fries she “requests” from her favorite diner in Baltimore. We feel the closeness of the Atlanta community, in which Rebecca can walk to school, and we see the changing landscape as a taxi brings her from one neighborhood to the next. Homesickness and new surroundings are truly brought to life in these sensory details.

It is a rare author who can mix magic into a book and still maintain the book’s “realness,” who doesn’t necessarily let the book spiral off into a world of fantasy. Because even with the magical breadbox in this book, every detail feels like it could happen, that it has happened. I ached for Rebecca and her family. The emotions, the setting, the girl, the family, even the breadbox itself: even with the magic–especially with the magic–it was all so real.

Tankborn by Karen Sandler

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Kayla and Mishalla are GENs, genetically engineered non-humans. Unlike other people who were born to mothers naturally, Kayla and Mishalla were gestated in a tank. Not even considered human by the trueborns (upper-class natural-borns) and lowborns (lower-class natural-borns), GENs are created for a specific Assignment, which they take at age 15 and from then on are treated as slaves. All GENs are marked with a tattoo on the side of their face upon creation, which serves a dual purpose of making them recognizable to non-GENs as well as being used as a sort of electrical conduit to upload information to their brains.
Kayla and Mishalla are close friends and almost sisters. They were raised together and turned 15 at around the same time, with Mishalla leaving to take her Assignment a little before Kayla. Mishalla serves as a caretaker for trueborn children in a sort of nursery and Kayla serves as the attendant to Zul Manel, the bed-ridden patriarch of a very wealthy and influential trueborn family.
The book alternates between their perspectives, but most attention is given to Kayla. Kayla has been told her entire life that she is worthless, good only for the one thing she has been Assigned, so much of the book is necessarily Kayla’s path to realizing her own self-worth. She’s an interesting character who experiences a lot of growth, and her story (involving the secrets kept by the trueborn family she serves and by extension secrets kept by her world at large) is fascinating. Mishalla is a bit flatter, but I liked her story as well – the children she cares for are disappearing in the middle of the night, spirited away by her trueborn keeper and never seen again. About halfway through the book, Kayla’s and Mishalla’s stories intertwine.
I loved so much about Tankborn. Sandler has created a unique society (set on an entirely new planet called Loka) ruled by a strict caste system: trueborns at the top, lowborns at the bottom, and GENs beneath even them. What’s more, the trueborns themselves are divided into castes. The ideal skin color is what most would consider medium-brown. The farther away from this color a person’s skin deviates (darker AND lighter), the lower they are on the totem pole. (Kayla’s skin is light brown and Mishalla’s is pale white, so even if they were trueborn, they would both be low trueborns.) It’s a unique take on the caste systems in our own past and present worlds, and Sandler makes it believable.
I loved the plot of Tankborn. That’s a fairly simplistic statement to make, but it’s a true one. As a seasoned SF reader, I thought I knew where Sandler was heading with the story, but she surprised me multiple times. The biggest twist was something I never saw coming, but it wasn’t a cheat since I could look back and see the groundwork Sandler had laid for it the entire book. There are a couple of love interests for our two lead females, but they’re among the weaker aspects, although they are sweet.
Tankborn is a science fiction story for readers who like science fiction. What I mean by that is Tankborn most likely won’t hold the interest of casual science fiction readers. Sandler’s world-building is complex, involving a string of new vocabulary, complicated social structures, a completely new religion, and a giant backstory that unfolds over the course of the book. It’s necessary for the reader to understand all of this world-building to comprehend the story, and it’s too easy for casual SF readers to give up when they stumble across yet another unfamiliar element. Readers who enjoy SF naturally, though, will relish this aspect.
I think the length of my review is a good indication of how complicated this story can be, but that makes it wonderful for readers who want to get lost in another world. There are so few YA books out there that are wholly, unabashedly science fiction. Most YA SF books I come across are set in our world with a twist, and while I enjoy those, they’re not my original love.
I hope to see this one on the Cybils finalist list. Tankborn is one of the first books published by Lee and Low’s new Tu Books imprint, which aims to publish YA SFF with diverse protagonists. But make no mistake, it’s not only a great science fiction story with a person of color in the lead role, it’s a great science fiction story period.

Sidenote: I initially believed Kayla’s skin was a fairly dark brown, since that’s how she is portrayed on the cover of the book, but a helpful Amazon reader pointed out that she is, in fact, much lighter-skinned. In the first few pages, her skin is described as “pale mud” and lighter than the “medium brown” of a trueborn she encounters. I was snookered by the cover and didn’t read carefully enough. I think it’s interesting that the cover made her darker, since it’s usually the other way around.

Review copy provided by the publisher. Tankborn is available now.

Cybils and The Hub

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It’s that time of year again — Cybils time! This year, both Kimberly and I have a part in the process, and we’re excited to announce it. Kim will be on the judging panel for YA Science Fiction and Fantasy, while I’ll be diving into the first round in YA Fiction again.

If you haven’t nominated a title yet, get ye to this form and do so. Make sure you read the rules or else there will be some cranky panel organizers.

Need an idea for what to nominate in YA fiction? I’m shocked at some of the titles missing from the roster so far. Here’s a small list. That is to say, please nominate these titles, darn it. ANYONE can nominate, so even if you’re a casual reader and non-blogger, you can put a title up for consideration. Especially these:

  • The Babysitter Murders by Janet Ruth Young

  • Popular by Alissa Grosso

  • Lie by Caroline Bock

  • The Day Before by Lisa Schroeder

  • Her and Me and You by Lauren Strasnick

  • Ordinary Beauty by Laura Weiss

  • Taking Off by Jenny Moss

  • All the Earth, Thrown to the Sky by Joe Lansdale

  • Threads and Flames by Esther Friesner

  • Badd by Tim Tharp

  • What Comes After by Steve Watkins

  • Compulsion by Heidi Ayarbe

  • Crossing Lines by Paul Volponi

  • Mercy Lily by Lisa Albert

  • Going Underground by Susan Vaught

Other books notably missing from the list include the new books by Sarah Mylanowski, Deb Caletti, Susane Colasanti, and Kody Keplinger.


Also, I have a new post up at YALSA’s The Hub Blog. They’re doing 31 days of authors in conjunction with the celebration of Teen Read Week, and I got to kick it off (!!!) with a post about Courtney Summers. Check it out (and if you comment, even better).

Twitterview: Steve Brezenoff

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Welcome to another Twitterview. This month, Steve Brezenoff is here to talk about Brooklyn, Burning (reviewed here), gender, and a whole lot more. Like usual, there’s a giveaway of this book at the end, but I think more importantly, what I want people to do after reading this is to participate in Steve’s #FridayReads project — those who have read Brooklyn, Burning or have read reviews of it know that at the center of the story are the ideas of gender and homelessness, and through participating in his #FridayReads project, you can help raise money for YouthLink.

Pitch Brooklyn, Burning in 140 characters
Two summers and two loves, gentrification and arson in Greenpoint.

What inspired Brooklyn, Burning?
I was going for a love song vibe at first–“me” to “you.” The ambiguity was initially an accident.

What drew you to write Kid and Scout without gender?

An accident for several hundred words. I ran with it partly due to a listserve with some very old-fashioned ideas.

What was the writing process like in creating gender neutrality/interchangeability?

It came more naturally than I’d have thought. I think it frustrates my editor, publicist, and reviewers, which is fun.

In BB and Absolute Value of -1, you write the voice of both genders authentically. Do you find one harder/easier/more interesting to write?

I don’t give a lot of thought to the narrators’ genders, believe it or not. I give thought to the character, and try to keep the voice real.

As I asked with last month’s Twitterview, what’s your take on/experience with gender appeal to your novels? Do you write with one in mind?

I don’t. I just write what I want to write. It’s not even what I necessarily want to read. I get that most YA readers are girls. That’s ok.

What’s your take on the notion that guys “don’t read?”

First of all: boysdontread.com. Second, as a teen, I stopped reading for personal enjoyment. I picked it up again later.

Setting plays a key role in Brooklyn Burning. Why Brooklyn?

I <3 Brooklyn, for one thing. For another, the historical aspects took place in Brooklyn. Also, it just came out that way.

What should readers walk away with from Brooklyn Burning?

A receipt! Lol. No, seriously. I just want people to get anything from it at all. Literally anything.

Who or what do you write for?

Mainly I write because I like to write. But I also like controlling people’s minds, which is possible with fiction.

You’ve written other books, but why the shift for a teen audience? Is it intentional or is it led by the story?

My work for younger readers has been work-for-hire. When it comes to what I prefer to write, it’s mostly YA. The shift is illusory.

What was your most influential read as a teenager?

The Catcher in the Rye

Who are your top three writing influences?

JD Salinger, John Gardner, SE Hinton. Probably.

Who do you believe is breaking ground in YA right now?

Am I allowed to say Carolrhoda Lab? If I’m honest and immodest, that’s the answer.

What’s the best writing advice you ever received?

Butt-in-chair. It might be the ONLY good writing advice I’ve ever received.

What’s your best writing advice to give?

See above. Also: objective correlative

What is your writing routine?

When I come up with one, I’ll let you know.

What gets you jazzed to write?

Reading great writing

Do you have a writing soundtrack? Care to share a bit?

I have a different for every project. My current project is full of Bjork, Nick Drake, and Mastodon. Figure that one out.

What’s next for you?

Lunch. Oh, you mean a project. I’m working on another one that examines gender a little, and also love vs. envy, and online gaming.

Favorite ice cream?
Dark Chocolate Zin from Izzy’s in St. Paul!

Want a copy of Brooklyn, Burning? Fill out the form below, and I’ll pick a winner at the end of the month.