STACKED

books

What I’m Reading Now

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For your Friday reading pleasure, a few of my current reads and my thoughts on each thus far:
 
XVI by Julia Karr
The jacket synopsis led me to think this book would be a clumsy attempt to make a statement about our over-sexed culture.  Protagonist Nina lives in a future where girls get a tattoo at age sixteen designating them as legal to engage in sexual activity.  So not my thing to read about.  But I can’t resist the siren call of a dystopia, so I checked it out anyway.  And I’ve been pleasantly surprised so far – while the “sex-teen” aspect is a major thread, the plot is much more focused on Nina’s family and their potential involvement in an underground movement dedicated to toppling the government.  There’s a lot of made up slang and abbreviations, which I actually like a lot here.  It reminds me a little of Biting the Sun and Feed in that regard.  There’s also major world-building, and you all know how much I crave that.  Lastly, and most pleasantly for me, the plot is leading up to a major reveal about the dystopian world.  That was always what I loved most about dystopias as a teen and it hasn’t been present in most of the dystopias I’ve read as an adult (think Hunger Games, Wither, Across the Universe, Delirium – a few surprises, yes, but not on the scale of The Giver).  I’m eager to finish this one and see if the reveal is worthy of my admiration.
Secondhand Charm by Julie Berry
Kelly’s already reviewed this one here.  As a fantasy lover (and lover may actually be an understatement in this case), I’m always interested to see what non-fantasy lovers like about the fantasy books they recommend.  That’s the main reason I decided to pick up this one.  So far, I dig the fact that the story is set in a completely different world – I’ve read too many fantasies that are set in our world with magical elements sprinkled in.  Reading fantasy can be a great escape, and this one appears to fit the bill.  And speaking of stories set in our world with magical elements sprinkled in…
Tyger Tyger by Kersten Hamilton
I’m still not sure why I checked this one out.  The cover is really pretty, but that’s usually not enough to convince me to give it a shot.  I think I was drawn to it due to its unusual mythology.  Teenage Teagan is seeing goblins.  Finn Mac Cumhaill, her family’s mysterious visitor from her mother’s adoptive family of Irish travelers, warns her about them and tells her the sidhe follow him wherever he goes.  Danger and adventure ensue.  It’s not bad, but it’s also not a pageturner for me.
The Marvelous Land of Oz adapted by Eric Shanower
I loved Eric Shanower’s adaptation of the first Oz book, The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, and am loving the second book in the series just as much.  It’s no surprise, considering my love for Oz in general.  I’m familiar with Shanower’s illustrations from The Wicked Witch of Oz by Rachel Cosgrove Payes, but hadn’t had a chance to read his writing before.  His adaptations of the books remain true to the originals, restoring a lot of the elements omitted from or changed for the movie (silver shoes, the Good Witch of the North’s kiss).  I like Skottie Young’s illustrations a lot, but I admit that I would have preferred Shanower’s (the first installment gives the reader a few examples of Shanower’s artistic interpretations of the characters).  I’m pleased that the duo intend to bring all of Baum’s Oz books into a graphic format.

Wildwing by Emily Whitman

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In Wildwing, fifteen year old Addy lives in early 20th century England with her mother, a seamstress. She’s never known her father, who abandoned her unmarried mother when she was pregnant. Addy takes a lot of scorn from her classmates, who mock her cruelly for being the daughter of a low-class seamstress and the product of unmarried parents.
After a brawl with one of these classmates, Addy’s mother withdraws her from school and sets her up as a maid with Mr. Greenwood, an old man whose son disappeared many years ago and has been driven a little mad as a result. Mr. Greenwood turns out to be a kind, intelligent man – despite the slight battiness – who lets Addy borrow his books, talks with her over tea, and has a number of interesting inventions laying about the house.
One day, while Mr. Greenwood is out, Addy ventures into a room she’s never been in before and discovers one of Mr. Greenwood’s hidden inventions – a time machine.  It takes her back to the early 13th century, where she’s conveniently mistaken for Lady Matilda, a noble lady who’s traveled to Berringstoke to take up residence in its castle.  
Addy, seeing her chance to escape the life of drudgery she feels trapped in, decides to become the Lady Matilda.  Now she’s rich, wears fancy dresses, and gets to look down on everyone else instead of the other way around.  Oh, and there’s the little matter of the reason the Lady Matilda traveled to Berringstoke was to marry its Lord, a middle-aged, arrogant man into warfare and hunting.  This would send most fifteen year old girls running back to the 20th century, and it’s a credit to Whitman that she makes the reader believe Addy’s indecision about whether to stay or go.  Plus there’s the falconer’s son, William, who is very handsome and just may be falling in love with her.
Though Addy is frequently selfish, she’s always a likable character, even when her new life involves assuming the identity of a dead woman – the real Lady Matilda, who died in a shipwreck that Addy stumbles upon by chance.  Addy is a bit of a whiner at the beginning of the book – there are frequent utterances of how terrible her life is and how much she wishes she were born into status like her classmates – but this is such a common refrain among teens (and adults!) that it’s easy to sympathize with her.  And as she grows through the course of the novel, we root for her to make the right decisions, especially when they’re so tough.
The plot is more than a little outlandish, but it’s always fun.  Seeing Addy struggle to adapt to the medieval customs – particularly the dining customs – is very funny, and her clumsy attempts to mimic the dialect are equally amusing.  The little historical details Whitman sprinkles throughout add a great deal of interest to the story.  Addy’s maidservant at the castle, Beatrix, comments upon Addy’s “flimsy” undergarments from the 20th century, and the Lord’s steward, Eustace, explain in a letter to his Lord that Addy’s supposed head injury (sustained in the shipwreck) must be the reason she was eating the plates.
The author’s note clears up some of the historical inaccuracies, of which there are many.  (One of the most glaring is that people in Addy’s position would have spoken French, not English.)  But historical accuracy isn’t really what Whitman is going for.  She’s giving the reader an opportunity to escape, just like Addy does, into another time and place where adventure, mystery, romance, and a little danger await.
As I read Wildwing, I could tell that I wasn’t reading a literary masterpiece, but I was having so much fun I didn’t care (and who wants to read Great Works of Literature all the time anyway?).  I would have gobbled this book up as a fifteen year old.  It’s pure wish fulfillment.  Don’t like your current life?  Escape to a new one, where you’re beautiful, rich, and titled.  But wait, there are a few complications… fun, smoothly written, and a little silly.  Just what I needed.

Exposed by Kimberly Marcus

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Liz is a photographer. She captures things behind the lens, and it’s through this we understand her. But she’s not the center of this story — this story is about her best friend Kate and her brother Mike. Kate’s a mighty dancer and Mike a college boy but former athlete.

One Saturday night, during one of Kate and Liz’s regularly scheduled sleepovers, they have a fight. And it’s ugly. Things not meant to be said are said, and the two of them spend the night sleeping in separate ends of Liz’s house. When Liz wakes up the next morning, Kate is gone, and she accepts that this means there will be a lot of apologies to be made on Monday.

But oh, if it were only that easy.

What Liz comes to find out is that something much worse than a fight has happened. It involves Kate and Mike, and Liz has no idea whose side of this crime she’s on.

Exposed is told in sparse verse form, and though I went back on and forth on whether this style suited the story, I think in the end it really does. I’d have loved to have a better fleshed Liz and Kate, but because so much of Liz’s identity is wrapped up in being a photographer — a person on the periphery rather than the subject in focus — the story wouldn’t have been as powerful nor would we have so much investment in Liz’s internal thinking were it told more traditionally through prose. We want to know what Liz feels about this, but she can only give us so much. She has to tell Kate and Mike’s stories because she’s the photographer. The thing is, she can give us the angles and the perspectives and she can change up the lighting and speed as she wants to. And she does this through the verse. It’s both visual and linguistic. Stylistically, it’s spot on.

Although the book moves along at a speedy pace thanks to the verse, there are so many things packed into those lines that the reader is forced to slow down. I found myself at first a little unimpressed with the story. For the first fifty or seventy pages, I felt like nothing was really going on. But because I knew there was something big coming, I kept going, and when the big event happens, I immediately began the book over again. The light bulb clicked, and I made myself read things slower and piece the story together much the way Liz had to.

In finishing the book, I couldn’t help me reminded of Carol Lynch Williams’s Glimpse and what a fantastic readalike this is for that title. We have a very edgy topic at play, but it’s tackled delicately and through the eyes of a narrator who we come to trust quite well. This title will work well for fans of Ellen Hopkins, but I really think that stands out about the connection between Exposed and Glimpse is the narrator. In both, the narrator is both part of and not part of the central story, and we as readers are forced immediately to decide whether we believe them or want to believe them. Being able to convince your reader to buy the narrator through the use of verse is tough, and in both of these books, we’re not given tricks nor are we disappointed with our intuition at the end of the story. There is so much else at stake in the story and as a reader, I appreciate that I’m allowed to experience those along with the character and not feel betrayed. Of course, that’s not to say Hopkins does this in her stories — because she doesn’t — but her narrators are part of the story itself, rather than the vessel through which the story is told.

At the end of Marcus’s book, we don’t have a tidy clean conclusion. We’re still with Liz, behind the camera, trying to capture what it is we need to catch. I love these types of endings, and I think with the story itself, this is what we need.

I think this will be a book to watch — it’ll make a great readalike to not only the titles listed above, but also to Daisy Whitney’s The Mockingbirds. If you’ll remember, one of the key elements to this story was not on the victim but instead on justice; in Exposed, our main character goes through something quite similar. She’s not the victim, even though deep down she is and she, too, seeks justice for herself and her conscious.

Marcus’s debut is precisely what it promises: powerful. I cannot wait to see where this author takes us next. Exposed will hit book shelves February 22, so you have very little wait time left.

Double Take: One Pale Face

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I love when these sneak up on you. When you see a cover posted somewhere and suddenly realize you know that cover. You’ve seen it before. Oh and this one is even more fun because they share something else, too.


Boyproof by Cecil Castellucci: This one was published by Candlewick in 2006. Of all the covers that feature faces, this one stands out to me a bit. It’s pale and the angle different than so many of the others. It helps that this one came along before the face trend really caught on.

Dear Bully will be published by HarperCollins in fall 2011. It’s an anthology of 70 authors talking bullying. You can read more about the project here, since it doesn’t seem to be up yet on Amazon or GoodReads.

Besides the cover, these two share an author — Cecil Castellucci pens a contribution in Dear Bully.

The image on both is the same girl, but the cropping and color treatment is different enough that they will stand apart. I like each for a different reason. Boy Proof has a real starkness to it, while Dear Bully has that “serious” feel to it. I think it all has to do with the cropping and the lack of eyebrow.

Do you have a preference? Does one work better than the other?

Chasing Alliecat by Rebecca Fjelland Davis

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Sadie’s parents have a bit of a strange relationship, and to figure out where they stand with one another, they’re spending the summer together in Egypt. Sadie, of course, can’t come with them, so they dump her with family in small town Minnesota, where she lives in a tiny room and finds herself bored. But then Sadie meets Joe and Allie — and it’ll be Allie who ultimately changes the course of her summer by pushing her to try something new: mountain biking.

Sadie finds she loves biking, and she gets good at it. So good, in fact, she signs up for a mid-summer race as a beginner. Even though her nerves shake and shake at the thought, she’s going to do it. This is going to be her summer escape.

Then things between Joe and Allie get tense, and Joe seeks the time and guidance of Sadie, who herself is confused about who or what either of her new friends are. She wants to get to the bottom of these two, but when Allie finds the half-dead body of a local priest then disappears mysteriously for days, that’s when Sadie knows there is something much deeper and darker going on.

Chasing Alliecat was a fast-paced read that I think really fills a niche in the YA market. It’s part adventure, part mystery, as well as part sports novel. There are killer racing scenes written with pure adrenaline, and even as a non-biker, I could feel those moments and they made me want to grab a bike and hit the trails with Allie.

I dug the way this book was set up and executed: immediately, we know that there is a mostly dead body and we know that Allie is somehow connected to this priest. Of course, we don’t know why, and we aren’t given the chance to know why for quite a while. As soon as the body’s discovered and Allie flees, we’re ripped from the moment and taken back a month in time to the beginning of Sadie’s stay with her relatives. This gives us as readers not only the opportunity to get to know the characters and the story leading to this life changing bike trip, but it also forces us to read a little differently than had we been given the story more linearly. I like that we’re trusted to play detective before Sadie can, since the story’s flashback point means she actually doesn’t know what’s going to happen is coming — this isn’t a story of her reflecting back on the events leading up to the discovery so it’s as if we get secret knowledge and we can pack it away and hope Sadie gets those clues along the way. This was a very smart tactic, and it really stood out to me as an offering of trust to the reader.

The relationships among characters are interesting, and I think that Davis does a good job developing full and dynamic characters. Allie is herself a bit of an enigma, but because we pick up enough clues through Sadie (and Joe’s) observations, we get a picture that there’s something broken about her. She’s a tough girl and not just because of her mountain biking. Sadie is, too, though she seeks the same sort of strength present in Allie. Joe is also a character of strength, but Sadie’s a little more reluctant to dig this from him; she knows there’s something buried inside him since the death of his brother, and when she finds it, her respect for him grows exponentially.

For me, the mystery of the story seemed pretty obvious. I had Allie’s game figured out early on, as some of her clues are huge, but I think for the average teen reader, this won’t be so obvious. The mystery itself reminded me a bit of the mystery in Mary Jane Beaufrand’s The River in that all of the pieces are there, but the actual point of the story isn’t to collect them to get from point A to point B. Instead, we’re supposed to stop and consider the bigger elements of the story itself: the characters, the setting, and the vehicles driving the narrative. That’s to say, the bigger mystery is unlocking these pieces. Once those unravel, the mystery works itself out.

I didn’t quite feel the romantic pull between Joe and Sadie as I believe I maybe should have, but that came down to also not believing Allie’s sexuality. We’re given hints — from Joe himself, in fact — that Allie is a lesbian. In fact, we’re led to believe throughout that Allie may have feelings toward Sadie; at the end of the story, we’re given Sadie’s insight into this and her reactions. I kind of felt this element was extraneous and served as a way to detract from the mystery. I think given the powerful aspect of mountain biking woven into the story, this could have been left out. I didn’t think romance or discussion of sexuality mattered in a story that really dug into much deeper family issues. I guess, too, I was a little uncomfortable with how Sadie handles this in the end, even if she is quite realistic. Most readers won’t give it a second thought.

Chasing Alliecat is an excellent pick for readers looking for a good story with solid characters that moves along quickly. I think this title would work for reluctant readers — this is plot driven, despite having strong characters — and the premise of the story involving mountain biking has instant appeal. Though don’t discount this as only a book for reluctant readers: your light mystery and adventure fans will love this, as will readers looking for teens who do teen things like learn to mountain bike during the summer. There’s not too much content wise to worry about in this title, aside from a little cursing (which is not in any way gratuitous but fits with the characters and the sport), so I think this is a title you could talk to upper middle school students and high schoolers without problem.