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books

The Great YA Blogger Meetup @ ALA Annual in New Orleans

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It’s back!

We’ll have another YA blogger/publisher/author meet up in New Orleans during ALA’s Annual Convention. Details aren’t set up yet, but we want to know it’s in the works, and we want your input. Let us know you’re interested in coming and what day works best, and we’ll see what we can work out.

With the number of other exciting programs going on at ALA, we’ve narrowed down our best days to Saturday night or Sunday night. If you want to come, fill out the form, and we’ll make sure to get you on the guest list.

Of course, you’ll get more updates such as location, costs, and confirmed guests as ALA grows closer right here. Feel free to spread the word. We had an excellent time in San Diego, so let’s do it again.

Double Take: Remove that Cigarette

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It’s probably a good idea when you market a book for teens that the cover image not feature things that teens can’t do — so, having someone drinking on the cover isn’t usually a good idea. Neither is smoking.


When I first saw the cover for Michelle Cooper’s The FitzOsbornes in Exile, I knew something funny was going on. You can see the puff of smoke, but if you look closely, the male’s clearly had something photoshopped out of his fingers. Why the cloud of smoke remains, I’m not sure. It looks sort of silly to be there, since it’s obvious why it’s there, even if the cigarette is not.

I’ve read this book, and I’m not sure I care for the cover. The girl on it looks way older than teen age, and this book is set in the late 1930s. Although the feeling sort of fits that era, the cover models look too old. I like the feel of the black and white with a pop of red, and I think that the title and author’s name are well placed. The other thing I like about this cover is that there is no blurb on it; I’m not a fan of them on the front covers of books, and so not seeing one is kind of a welcomed sight.

Then I saw its double:

There’s the cigarette! There’s also another guy in this cover, as well as the statue, since the image used for Cooper’s book is zoomed in tightly. What’s strange to me in this use of the image is that everything is still in black and white (with the pop of red) but the guy kneeling is not. He’s still got his natural peach toned skin. It feels sort of strange. I’m also not feeling the strange font use for the title — why are consequences and heart bigger than of and the, as well as italicized? — but I get why it couldn’t be placed higher on the image, since the statue is in the way. I’m not a fan of the blurb on the top. It feels as though the title, author’s name, and the blurb are competing with the image on the front, rather than working with it.

Cunningham’s cover isn’t for a new book, either: this is a paperback rerelease of a title published in 2000. It’s marketed for the adult reading audience. I think that, despite the strange photoshop effort and the fact it doesn’t really “fit” the story, Cooper’s cover does the image more justice.

What do you think? Have you read either one and have a thought of whether it fits?

Divergent by Veronica Roth (aka my seventh dystopia of the year)

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You know, I have to admit it is kind of lovely that the publishing world has seized upon a subgenre I was obsessed with as a teenager.  There’s so much to choose from!  Sure, some of it is dreck, but a lot of it is pretty darn good.  And just think, so many of these books never would have stood a chance at being published (or even written) before the subgenre’s popularity exploded, thanks in large part to a little book called The Hunger Games.

I’m happy to report that Veronica Roth’s debut novel Divergent is one of the good ones.  And because I’ve harped on this ad nauseam in practically every single review of a dystopia I’ve written lately, I feel the need to state this right away: this book tells a complete story.  That’s right folks, it’s the first in a trilogy, but there is still a beginning, a middle, and an end.  I feel like hunting down Veronica Roth and personally thanking her for this favor.
Now that I’ve gotten that important tidbit out of the way, I suppose you’d like to know what Divergent is actually about.  In a future Chicago, the people have been divided into factions that each value a different personality characteristic: Erudite values learning, Dauntless values courage, Amity values kindness, Candor values honesty, and Abnegation values selflessness.  Something terrible happened in the past (what that terrible thing is, we don’t find out, but it’s implied that it’s a big war) and the faction system was created to prevent that terrible thing from happening again.  Each faction believes that a lack of their own chosen characteristic was the cause of the strife that plagued the world before – Erudite thinks ignorance is to blame, Dauntless thinks cowardice is to blame, and so on.  It’s an interesting idea that I don’t fully buy into, but Roth’s writing and plotting is good enough that I was willing to suspend my disbelief.
Beatrice Prior, our protagonist, was born into Abnegation.  She’s about 16 years old (people in Abnegation don’t keep track of their birthdays since that would be selfish) and will soon choose which faction she wants to be a part of, along with all the other 16 year olds.  Most people choose the faction they were born into, but not all.  Those who don’t choose their parents’ faction are usually ostracized by their family (you see the problems beginning already).  
Prior to the choosing ceremony, all 16 year olds undergo a test whose purpose is to help them decide which faction is best suited to them.  The test isn’t decisive – it’s merely meant to guide the person.  Beatrice’s situation is unique: the test tells her she is best suited for not one faction, but two, making her a divergent, something very dangerous in Beatrice’s world.  Luckily, the person administering her test is a kind soul and erases Beatrice’s results, entering in a manual result for one faction.  Beatrice then struggles with her decision at the ceremony – which faction will she choose?
Initiation into the chosen faction follows the ceremony, and it’s anything but pleasant.  It’s a long, drawn-out process that takes weeks where the initiate must prove she belongs in that faction.  During initiation, Beatrice discovers that her secret status as a divergent means more than just the fact that she might belong in two factions.  She also begins to uncover secrets about the faction system and their leaders (I love a dystopia with some juicy secrets that are revealed at key points in the story).  The stakes are high and the trustworthy people few.
Divergent is action-packed the whole way through, aside from the first few chapters that set up the premise.  Beatrice’s initiation into her chosen faction is particularly well-done.  The initiation challenges both her body and her mind, and the process also allows the reader to get to know the other initiates and their foibles and fears.  While many of the ancillary characters aren’t fully fleshed, Beatrice herself is a dynamic character who grows and changes throughout the book.  There’s also a romance, but it doesn’t overwhelm the story and it makes sense in context.  What’s more, Beatrice relies on herself rather than her love interest during initiation and what follows, and even supports him at times.
There’s a lot of comparisons with other dystopias that can be made – I personally don’t mind that there’s a lot of derivative dystopias out there as long as the author can write well and add a unique twist  – but I actually found myself thinking of the Harry Potter books as I read Divergent.  In both series, children/teens are divided into houses/factions based on personality characteristics, with one particular characteristic overriding the others and determining much of the person’s future.  The problems with this system of separation are similar in both sets of novels: rather than fostering teamwork and togetherness among each house or faction, the system fosters hatred of other houses or factions and derision of their most valued characteristic.  The special hatred between Slytherin and Gryffindor in the Harry Potter novels is mirrored in Divergent with the hatred between Erudite and Abnegation.
Divergent avoids a lot of the pitfalls that other recent dystopias have fallen victim to: it tells us something about how we live now (how labels can divide us, the importance of teamwork, the difficulties of friendship during competition, and the dangers of a herd mentality), the characters’ actions make sense within the context of the novel, it tells a complete story, and the female protagonist is active rather than passive.  
I would have liked to see more world-building.  As I mentioned before, I don’t completely buy into the premise, and a lot of that has to do with the fact that Roth doesn’t tell the reader what happened to create this very unique society.  Julia Karr’s XVI – another dystopia set in Chicago – does a much better job of this, but her world is also more closely related to our own, so the world-building comes a bit easier.  I hope that future installments will give me a better picture of the decimated Chicago and greatly expand upon the snippets we saw in Divergent.  Overall, though, Divergent is a book that stands out from the pack, and I look forward to the sequels.

Display This: The Middle East

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Continuing with the theme of books set in foreign places, I thought today I’d showcase a few books that take place somewhere totally foreign to most Americans: the Middle East. In my research, I found few books set here that aren’t war related, and it makes me think that that could be a worthwhile niche for a writer. I’d love to read stories about the normal lives of teens in these countries that we really know so little about beyond what our own media tells us.

Again, I’ve limited the books to more recent publications, to one book per author (as some have more than one pertinent title), and to books that are readily available for purchase in the states via store and jobbers. The stories take place primarily in the country, though I’ve made one exception you’ll see shortly. I’ve limited to (mostly) fictional titles with teen appeal or published specifically for that audience.

You’re welcome to borrow my list, and please, if you know any other titles that fit, leave a comment!

Beneath My Mother’s Feet by Amjed Qamar: In Pakistan, 14-year-old Nazia knows she’ll be marrying her cousin Salman and living the traditional lifestyle. She doesn’t have real agency or choice in her life until her father’s injured in an accident and she and her mother must abandon whatever futures they may have had and instead work to bring in an income. Suddenly, Nazia discovers she may be able to do more with her life than she ever thought before.

Shabanu: Daughter of the Wind by Suzanne Fisher Staples: Set in Pakistan, this older (but repackaged) title shares the story of Shabanu and her sister, who are to be married off to a pair of brothers as soon as they’re of the marrying age. But Shabanu loses her future husband and is instead promised to a wealthy landowner instead, and it’s then that family secrets and feuds unravel.

The Sandfish by Maha Gargash: Set in the 1950s, this is the story of 17-year-old Noora who is a fiercely independent woman in the Arabian Peninsula (modern day United Arab Emirates) — something completely against the norms of society. After the death of her mother and the threat of an arranged marriage, she flees. But it doesn’t end well: now she’s back and has become the third wife to an older man. It only gets worse from here when secrets and heartbreak abound.

Where the Streets Had a Name by Randa Abdel-Fattah: 13-year-old Hayaat is driven to return to her grandmother’s ancestral home in Jerusalem in order to collect soil that she believes will save Sitti Zeynab’s life. The problem is the wall dividing the West Bank and the soldiers with their checkpoints, curfews, and other road blocks that won’t permit her to return to the family’s old home. How will they get around it, and what will happen if they do?

Thura’s Diary: My Life in Wartime Iraq by Thura al-Windawi: In this translated diary of a 19-year-old girl during 2003, the year when the war between the US and Iraq raged and Hussein was the enemy to both sides. It’s drawn comparisons to Diary of Anne Frank, and it looks at both sides of the enemy lines.

The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini: Set in Afghanistan, this is a story about a young wealthy boy who becomes friends with his father’s servant. It’s one rich in Afghan history, both socially and politically. Although originally marketed for adults, it has great teen appeal and of course, there’s a film version as well.

Beast by Donna Jo Napoli: Although this book is not set in the middle east, I wanted to include it because it’s the Persian story of Beauty and the Beast.

Persepolis by Mariane Satrapi: This pair of graphic novels tell the story of Satrapi’s childhood growing up in Iran during the Islamic Revolution. What makes this set of books a knockout is that it’s less about the war and more about her life in Iran. There’s a lot of challenges for Satrapi, including those involving her education and the transition from child to adolescent.

Cry of the Giraffe by Judie Oron: Based on a true story, this is the story of young Ethiopian Jewish trying to make their way back to their ancestral homeland of Israel.

Thunder Over Kandahar by Sharon E. McKay: Tamanna and Yasmine, best friends, are excited to find out their small Afghan town will be getting a school. But it takes little time before their safety and education are put on the line — the Taliban has arrived in town and they threaten to destroy the school and execute the teachers and students. When they find out that Yasmine’s family is Western educated, things only get worse, and the two girls must flee their homes. But what happens if they get separated in the vast mountains of Afghanistan in their quest for freedom?

Sphinx’s Princess by Esther Friesner: Set in Egypt, this story blends real history with a little mythology. Nefertiti is a commoner, but she’s always managed to find herself in interesting situations; not only that, she’s beautiful. Her aunt, Queen Tiye, wants to use this girl to make sure she can keep the power she has in royal society, but when Nefertiti leaves her life as a commoner to enter elite society, she wields plenty more power than she — or the queen — ever could imagine.

Alphabet of Dreams by Susan Fletcher: This historical story is set in Persia (Iran) and follows street beggers Mitra and her little brother Babak. Although they seem like your typical poor, they’re actually the children of wealth and royalty, but their father’s death after a poorly plotted attempt to attack King Phraates means they’ve been exiled. Mitra, though, holds out hope one day they may regain their status in society.

Purple Heart by Patricia McCormick: Matt wakes up in an army hospital in Iraq with a purple heart — the symbol given to heroes. But he doesn’t feel like one remembering that he earned it by taking the life of someone else. A story of war and what it means to be a hero.

How to Ruin a Summer Vacation by Simone Elkeles: When Amy’s estranged father shows up in her life again, she can’t say she’s excited. But it’s made worse when she finds out that she’ll be spending the summer in Israel, away from her best friend, her boyfriend, and even air conditioning.

Sweet Valley Confidential by Francine Pascal

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(Warning: contains spoilers)

I collected Sweet Valley Twins books like young boys collected baseball cards. Their candy-colored spines were lined up on my shelves, ready to be traded with friends, passed around, and discussed. When I had devoured everything I could, and began to feel a bit too old for the sixth grade adventures of Elizabeth and Jessica Wakefield, I firmly felt that I was ready to move on to Sweet Valley High and the “mature” adventures that high schoolers have. My mother disagreed. So I got my fix of Sweet Valley High in the library, after my mother had dropped me off for the afternoon. I spent hours curled up on the floor of our town library, devouring the illicit adventures of the “adult” Wakefield Twins. Yes, at that point in my life, junior year of high school was way adult to me.

Therefore, the prospect of being introduced to the Wakefield Twins as actual adults (or as twenty-seven year olds, just a year younger than me) was enticing. Not only would I be able to see where all of my favorite characters had ended up in life, but I would also finally get a tale of Wakefield twins who were actually approximately my age and see a (hopefully) satisfying conclusion to a key part of my childhood.
Oh, how wrong I was.
Sweet Valley Confidential opens on Elizabeth Wakefield, living alone in New York City, working for the online theater magazine Show Survey, a sort of “Zagat ratings guide of Off Broadway” (p. 5), as she so often has to explain to people. We are immediately confronted with her utter hatred of Jessica, as Elizabeth ignores a pleading phone call from her sister. The reason for this sisterly feud, and the crux of the entire book, is Jessica’s engagement to Todd Wilkins, Elizabeth’s former boyfriend and her lifelong crush. And not only has Jessica stolen Todd, but she started this entanglement with him back in college, and then revived it while Todd and Elizabeth were still together. As Elizabeth mopes in New York City, starting a semi-romantic relationship with an upcoming playwright/Todd-lookalike and planning her revenge, Jessica and Todd are home in Sweet Valley. Although the entire town looks askance on them, judging their betrayal, Jessica refuses to leave her hometown, from a mix of stubbornness and a “this is where I want to raise my kids” sentiment.
As expected, the entire book is basically a set-up to get Jessica and Elizabeth back in the same place, for the inevitable blow-up, shakedown, and reunion, but the way Pascal goes about it is contrived and seems to drag on forever. Both Elizabeth and Jessica, characters who I desperately wanted to be as a middle schooler, were reduced to pathetic caricatures, simply acting upon their basest instincts. And the plot was just a bares bones shell of an outline, with Elizabeth and Jessica repeating the same lines over and over.
Elizabeth: “I hate Jessica. I loved Todd. Oh, betrayal, betrayal. I’m too weak and wimpy to act, or to even tell people how I feel.”
Jessica: “Oh, Todd, everyone hates us. But I love you so. But I love my sister, too.”
Todd: “Uhhh………”
Pascal (who I recently discovered didn’t even write the Sweet Valley High books back in the day) is a perfect example of why it is a bad idea to tell, not show. Everything is spelled out for the reader, and we never get a true glimpse into either of the Wakefield twins, never get to see why they feel the way they do. We are just hammered over the head with their angst. Additionally, some of the writing just plain doesn’t make sense at all, or is so flowery that it invites eye-rolling: “Their eyes were shades of aqua that danced in the light like shards of precious stones…There wasn’t a thing wrong with their figures, either. It was as if billions of possibilities all fell together perfectly. Twice” (p. 9-10). On multiple occasions while reading, I looked up to exclaim, “WHAT is going on here?”, to the amusement of my husband. (I will not even go into the sex scene that appears in the last chapter of the book. The language used here would make third-rate romance novelists appear to be National Book Award winners.)
However, the oddest thing about this book was the way that Elizabeth and Jessica thought of each other. While I am not a twin and have no idea how twin relationships work, or their level of closeness, Pascal wrote this novel as if Elizabeth and Jessica were actually involved in a torrid romantic relationship. The two seemed to pine for each other in a way that slightly disturbed me, aching for each others’ bodies. It was just plain weird.
While it was nice to be able to see some of the characters that had appeared in the Sweet Valley High series, these supporting characters didn’t get much air time, save for the small mentions of what they were doing as adults, and a brief anecdote to illustrate this. Save for Bruce Patman, who did a completely 180 overnight and transformed into Elizabeth’s best friend, and Steven, their brother, no one else really factors into the story. I would have liked to see more of an appearance by both Lila Fowler and Enid Rollins, who were Jessica and Elizabeth’s best friends, respectively, but the narrative is very tightly focused on the twins themselves. I believe Sweet Valley Confidential suffered from the exclusion of the other residents of Sweet Valley, who were a key part of the Sweet Valley High books.
Ultimately, I am glad that I read this book, simply for the nostalgia factor. I wouldn’t discourage any Sweet Valley Twins or Sweet Valley High fans from doing the same themselves. But I wouldn’t hand this to anyone who had never read the Sweet Valley books before. Perhaps the reader needs that firm grounding in the Sweet Valley universe to retain their love for the Wakefield twins after reading Sweet Valley Confidential.