If you remember my top picks of 2009, Natalie Standiford’s How to Say Goodbye in Robot made the cut. When I heard she had a new book coming out — this time dealing with a strange rich family — I went in prepared for a little quirkiness and a few laughs. I was not disappointed.

Confessions of the Sullivan Sisters begins when Almighty, the matriarch of the Sullivan family, declares to her descendants that one of them has done something so terrible that she doesn’t think she can keep the family in her will any longer. When shock ripples through the Sullivans, the Almighty suggests a solution: if the trouble maker comes forth and comes clean about her poor choices, then perhaps the money can be reinstated.

Standiford’s book is broken into 5 sections. The first and last are from the Almighty’s perspective, but the three in the middle are told from the three Sullivan sisters perspectives. They’re admitting to the horrible things that they have done causing shame to the family in hopes of being put back into the will.

Norrie makes her admission first, which revolves around a cotillion ball and her lack of interest in the man with whom she was set up for the ball. Jane takes stage next, admitting to running a blog that exploits the crazy in her family for a readership — it’s through her stories we learn just how crazy the Almighty really is. And finally, we have Sassy who admits to killing her grandfather (the Almighty’s most recent husband). After reading these three stories, it seemed obvious why the Almighty was embarrassed by her grandchildren. But oh, the excellent twist at the end left me in stitches laughing.

Confessions of the Sullivan Sisters is set up smartly. As a reader, I didn’t want to put the book down until I made my way through the entirety of one sister’s confession. Likewise, while the stories intertwined (as you’d expect), they stand alone, as well. Norrie’s story is the lengthiest, but it is her story that helps give the “horror” behind Jane’s make sense, and it also gives context to why Sassy is responsible for the death of her grandfather.

Each of the girls’ stories are well developed and each has their own distinct voices. They’re also downright hilarious: this is one crazy family, and Standiford pulls out all the stops to make these girls absolutely ridiculous. Of course, that’s all in context to the Almighty, the ringleader of the crazy circus going on.

This is a well-paced and plotted story, thanks in part to being set up in three distinct parts. The bookends give the story its context, but the three stories could be read alone and still make sense. Throughout the stories, I kept wondering how they would have amounted to the Almighty’s utter disappointment; in the end, I was pleasantly surprised to find out that what I had thought to be the truth was incorrect. I got a complete surprise, and I felt like the sisters themselves. Quite frankly, this change of pace fit with the story and the characters much better, and I think readers familiar with Standiford’s style or readers who pick up on the quirky factor here will dig the end a lot.

As I’ve mentioned a couple of times, this is a book to hand to readers who like humor, quirkiness, and a little irony in their books. Fans of Standiford’s first novel will love this, as will readers who dislike books about being rich and privileged: this goes against everything those books offer, despite being a story about a rich family. Throughout the book there are a number of literary allusions and plays upon classic tales (including Shakespeare’s A Winter’s Tale and King Lear and the story of Joan of Arc) that will please many readers, and I think fans of Libba Bray’s signature humor will find a lot to enjoy here, though Standiford’s style is a little more grounded.

* Review copy received from the publisher. Thanks!

A few months back, I reviewed Jandy Nelson’s The Sky is Everywhere and while it wasn’t my favorite read, it’s one that has really stuck with me. I find myself thinking about Lennie quite a bit and I think about the way that Nelson weaved the different poetic elements into the book.

Fortunately, fans of Nelson’s book will find a heck of a lot to enjoy in Conrad Wesselhoeft’s forthcoming debut Adios, Nirvana, which could be easily seen as sort of the male side of loss.

Ever since Jonathan’s twin brother Telly (short for Telemachus, which isn’t his real name) died, he’s been a wreck. He can’t get himself together, and everything for which he once had passion he has forgotten about. Jonathan was last year’s Best Young Poet in Washington, but this year he hardly shows up to class, let alone write poetry or perform music on his guitar. He’s on a fast track to repeating his junior year of high school until the principal offers him an ultimatum: write the life story of a local World War II vet, David, who lives in a local hospice. Obviously, Jonathan’s thrilled with this idea, especially given the fact he’ll have to deal with more death than he’d like to, but as he embarks on this trip with David, he comes to really better understand himself and better understand the importance of loss and tragedy in developing a sense of self.

Adios, Nirvana is raw. Jonathan is a foul mouthed teen boy but one who you absolutely cannot help but love throughout the story. He is a poet and a song writer, and throughout the book, we are greeted with some of his poetry and the vast knowledge he has of writers and literature. Jonathan’s been working on his own version of what could be considered a combination of Walt Whitman’s “Leaves of Grass,” Ezra Pound’s “Cantos,” and Jack Kerouac’s “Choruses”: he call is a Chaos. Through these chaoses, we get a deeper look into the way the loss of his brother has really influenced his behavior and how he sees himself as an artist.

Wesselhoeft’s debut is well-paced, but it begs to be read slowly. The use of poetry throughout helps make this happen, as we are forced in particular to listen to the words David shares with us about his experience in the war. And despite Jonathan’s reluctance and downright refusal to partake in such a depressing project, deep down, he loves it. David is an utter inspiration to him, and as we progress through the story, he becomes what Jonathan maybe hopes to become. I won’t go further in explaining how something that David says ends up being what helps guide his apprentice through the end of his junior year.

This book will have wide appeal, particularly to male readers. Fans of Nelson’s story will find a lot to love here, as this is another story of loss and deep grief. However, this story contains stronger language, as well as many instances of drugs and alcohol, so if those are of concern, this might not be the best readalike for The Sky is Everywhere. However, fans of realistic fiction and of strong and smart male characters and of stories with a strong basis in writing or in music will have a lot to enjoy here, and quite frankly, Jonathan’s going to be one of those characters like Lennie for me: I’ll be spending a long time thinking about what happened to him in the future and what he’d be up to now.

* Review copy picked up at BEA and available on netgalley.com