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books

Double take and things that look quite similar

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Hand holding is so hot right now, isn’t it? Check out this double take, followed by many of the similar covers flooding the market right now:

Sing Me to Sleep by Angela Morrison was published by March 2010 by Razorbill.


Sharing Sam by Katherine Applegate was published March 2004 by Delacorte.

I’m a bigger fan of Sing Me to Sleep, as I think the snow falling and the font for the title works much better than Sharing Sam.





Know of any others or do you have a favorite? Share in the comments!

Edit (5/15/10)

Thanks to Linda over at Jacket Whys (a blog that if you have any interest in cover design, you need to check out), here are a few more hand-holding covers:



Mercury by Hope Larson

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Generations apart, Josey and Tara have more than just DNA and a family home in common: they’re both holders of a necklace with mystical powers that causes both torment and closure for their quests.

Intrigued? That’s the premise of Hope Larson’s new graphic novel Mercury. Told in alternating voices — depicted through panels set on a white page (Tara’s modern story) and panels set on a black page (Josey’s story a few generations in the past). Although jarring at first, this set up makes sense when one has read through a few pages of both. This method makes perfect sense.

Josey’s family is poor, and when a stranger named Asa Curry stumbles upon their Nova Scotia homestead claiming to have a power of prospecting, they are intrigued. When Asa really finds gold, well, things turn from exciting to downright ugly. Let’s just say there’s some death, some deception, and at the end, Josey is left with a very strange necklace.

Flash to the present, where we have Tara, who has lost everything because her house burnt down a few months ago. Mom is torn up by it and has relocated while Tara has reentered school after a few years of homeschooling. Tara’s Aunt Janice has found a box of old jewelry from her mother and she pulls out a strange necklace that seems to have a prospecting power to it. Of course, she doesn’t know this right away but instead becomes many poor students’ personal hero in the meantime.

Larson’s graphical style is very appealing, and her storytelling has a wonderful magical realistic to it. I thoroughly enjoyed the weaving of the past with the present, along with the tool of the necklace to tie the generations together in an unexpected manner. This was a well-paced book that begged me to reread, and reread I did. Because there’s the magical element, it was worthwhile going back to pick up the threads that lead to the exciting ending.

I found both Tara and Josey to be fully fleshed characters, and I found myself caring a lot about their individual stories. I didn’t, however, find myself connecting or investing much time into any other characters, though, including Tara’s love interest or Mr. Curry — that, I think, might be problematic for many readers, as he is an integral role in the story.

Mercury is appropriate for teens through adults, as anyone in those age groups will appreciate the art and the story. Language and graphics are appropriate, and I don’t think there’s anything surprising. This might be a good book to hand to your fans of magical realism, both in graphic novels and in traditional novels. You can feel comfortable giving this to those a little skeptical about the graphic novel format, as Larson’s a reputable author and illustrator and this book does not throw in those sometimes surprisingly revealing panels. We’re all clean here!

Three Rivers Rising by Jame Richards

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I’m a picky historical fiction reader. It has to be the right place, the right historical story, and the right timing. I’m partial to American historical fiction, particularly those surrounding either disaster or the frontier. Not sure what that says about me.

When I heard about Jame Richards’s Three Rivers Rising, I was very excited: we have a disaster in 1889, which is a time period I’m pretty amenable to, too. As if the setting and period weren’t enough, this novel is done in verse, which is something else I’m a big fan of. Let me say it simply: Three Rivers Rising totally floated my boat.

Celestia is a wealthy girl who loves spending her days down by the water reading. It is here she keeps running into Peter, the hired help (and many classes below her own). Naturally, they fall madly in love, but her parents will not have it. As they prepare to disown her in order to maintain their family’s reputation and standing in society, though, her sister Estrella commits an unsavory act with a boy who wasn’t her betrothed. Guess who becomes the bad daughter now?

When her parents finish punishing Estrella by forcing her to leave and act as if leaving were by her own accord (because if they kicked her out, that would suggest she did something wrong and dishonored the family), they decide to send Celestia to Europe for a while to get herself together. Separating her from Peter will show her that he’s not worth her time. As you’d imagine, it just makes them fall more madly in love.

Meanwhile, we have 2 other characters that appear: Kate, a woman studying to be a nurse, and Maura, mother of 3 and wife of a train conductor. We watch as Kate moves through her studies and as Maura waits patiently for her husband to return.

The last character is, of course, Johnstown, Pennsylvania. There’s a nice little map in the front of the book that shows the basic layout. The town had 3 rivers — the Stony Creek to the west, the Little Conemaugh to the north, and the South Fork Creek to the east, which fed into Lake Conemaugh. So, a mountain town surrounded by water. You’d imagine what kind of fingers they kept crossed every day.

When Celestia returns home, she immediately seeks out Peter. It has been raining hard for a while, but because the townspeople had hired such a reputable man to ensure the dams would hold, no one worries too much. Of course, that’s precisely when the dams don’t hold, and the town is quickly falling under water. Without ruining how Kate and Maura fit into the story, let’s just say they play a significant role in how Celestia and Peter can be together.

Three Rivers Rising moved very quickly: the use of verse was a smart move because it didn’t bog the reader down in history, nor did it give us too much character development. As Richards points out in her author’s note, this isn’t a book about the flood; instead, the flood is the setting for the story of the townspeople. Peter and Celestia are believable, and the secondary characters of Celestia’s father and mother are spot-on in their desire to protect the family reputation. The love story is, of course, represented by the rivers, and this is done seamlessly.

Back to the verse: I thought that the way the verse was laid out on the page really helped the reader, too. Because verse is as much visual as textual, I thought that it really gave weight and gravity to many of the situations. Kate, our nurse, highlights the urgency quite well, and Maura, a hurried mother and fearful wife, depicts the emotions spot-on through the verse’s layout. Likewise, this is a novel that feels wet. As a reader, I felt I was right there reading beside the river and feeling the waters rise around me. I, like Peter, wanted to blame, blame, blame, but I realized as a reader that that wouldn’t change how things happened, either. This is talent.

Three Rivers Rising was a title I was a little apprehensive to purchase for my library, since I didn’t think the topic would be of huge appeal. However, this is one I am certainly going to add: I think historical fiction fans have a lot to sink into here, as much as I think fans of romance or novels in verse will. Oh, and did I mention how fast it read? I think I read the entire book in one sitting.

For those intrigued by the historical setting, Richards also provides a nice author’s note about her inspiration, as well as a resource guide to further reading. I think this is a title with huge crossover appeal, as many adult historical fiction readers will find a lot to love here.

Scars by Cheryl Rainfield

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My colleague across town and I share a lot of books with one another since we both purchase and read teen fiction for work. If something’s catching her attention or the attention of her teens, she lets me know and vice versa. Scars by Cheryl Rainfield was a title she told me I needed to buy, as all of the pages at her work put holds on it immediately upon seeing it. With that kind of pitch, I knew I had to both buy it and read it. I’m glad I did, even though this isn’t a book I particularly loved.

Kendra’s been sexually abused, and she channels a lot of the anger and frustration from the situation into cutting herself. Kendra’s been getting help from a therapist who she really loves working with, and she’s using the positive energy and adult support from Carolyn to try to stop the cutting.

At school, things are tough. Kendra’s former best friend-turned-girlfriend-turned-ex girlfriend has moved away and she’s really feeling a little alone. In an instant when she thought she’d be a victim of bullying, another girl — Meghan — steps in to protect her. From here on in, Kendra is attracted to Meghan in a new and profound way that comes out in the art she creates. The art, as you’d imagine, shows the pain and torture she feels in her life. The art, as you’d also imagine, is something she can’t show her mom, who used to believe she had potential as an artist (she herself is one).

Kendra feels distanced from both her parents, and she doesn’t feel comfortable breaking the silence. Mom and dad know she was abused, but there’s an unspoken rule about that moment that it not be brought up. But when Kendra discovers she’s being stalked and her therapist finds out she’s cutting and must inform her parents, things unravel in unexpected ways.

Scars was a very fast read and will appeal greatly to reluctant readers. It reminded me in a lot of ways of Patricia McCormick’s classic Cut, and it will likely appeal to the same audience. The first reason seems obvious, but there are other similarities: a fully-fleshed main character with weaker secondary characters.

In Rainfield’s book, I was disappointed in the use of safety character Sandy, as well as in both Kendra’s mother and father. They were all straw characters, even in the dynamic and unexpected ending (or maybe BECAUSE of that unexpected ending). I had a very hard time buying the case of abuse being such a secret in the family because I never found myself learning anything about the family. I kind of suspect those last couple of lines might be spoiler-y, but I also don’t think that will detract from the greater story.

One of the gutsy things Rainfield does here is develop a very outcasted character — or at least what may be considered one socially — and made her fairly normal. Kendra’s a victim of abuse, a cutter, an artist, and a lesbian, but she never makes any of them define her singularly. A lot of times in issues books such as this, one issue becomes what defines a character, but for me, I found Kendra fully fleshed and wholly human: I cared a heck of a lot about her well-being and with each new aspect of her personality, I came to get a really good picture of how dynamic she was. I didn’t want her to consider ending her life because she really had so much going FOR her in terms of a relationship and in a career in art.

This is an unflinching book, though I felt the ending was a little rushed. I’m kind of glad some of it rushed because of the unflinching aspect, but other parts I would have liked more character. The pacing and character reminded me a LOT of Darlene Ryan’s Five Minutes More. I’d believe these two titles would also make good readalikes, as would they both appeal greatly to teens (and adults!) who are more reluctant readers. Scars stands out also because the language is pretty clean — I don’t remember any swearing but do remember an instance of the f-bomb being written as “f-you” or something similar…just as effective! — and there are no sexual situations aside from the abuse. That in itself is handled very tactfully without sanitizing the severity of the situation. And the sweet romance throughout will bring a smile to your face. Sweet really is the best way to describe it.

While Scars isn’t one of my personal favorites, it was a worthwhile and realistic read. It’ll have a good audience, and it’s one I wouldn’t hesitate to recommend to any number of teen readers. Give it to fans of Ellen Hopkins, Gail Giles, Patricia McCormick’s Cut, Laurie Halse Anderson’s Wintergirls or Speak, Nina La Cour’s hold still, and other similar strong “issues” stories. It’s one worth making room for on your shelves for sure.

Field Notes: Blankets by Craig Thompson

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Blankets by Craig Thompson is an autobiographical look at growing up and finding oneself through trials of religion, family, and love. The illustrations set a powerful backdrop to what otherwise may have been a cliched story line of teenage exploration.

This is a fast-paced graphic novel that weighs in at over 500 pages, but is one demanding to be read quickly in one sitting. There are moments forcing you to slow down and absorb.

Blankets is far from perfect, as it seems much of the growth Thompson describes weighs far too heavily in a singular relationship that happened over a single 2-week period with a girl for whom he had incredible lust. A little far fetched, I think, for what the rest of the story brought in terms of religious and family impressions on who we are as humans.

That said, Blankets is a classic in the graphic novel world and for good reason: it’s a well-executed story with much literary merit to the writing. We have symbolism, we have foreshadowing, we have a classic bildungsroman set up and more, all in addition to fantastic graphic elements. The text-to-image balance was perfect.

Blankets is a fantastic readalong to David Small’s Stitches and Alison Bechdel’s Fun Home. There is tragedy and an ultimately hopeful conclusion in each title, along with a near fully-fleshed main character. I’d venture to say Blankets would be a good story to get new readers into graphic novels — but only if the size won’t intimidate. It’s a classic story arc, though sometimes the fluidity can be a bit challenging (i.e., how one scene moves into another). Give this to fans of, say, Dave Pelzer’s A Child Called It. It’s not as strong a connection as it is with Stitches, but we’re thinking more in terms of reader versus the storyline here — this is where you can potentially pull in a new reader, versus someone looking for a similar story. Just make sure your reader does not object to nudity, as there is a little; it is not gratuitous nor overpowering. The language will be similar as that found in all of these titles. The ideal age is the teenager and above, though certainly it is more appropriate for older teens content wise, and the appeal for the actual story will trend older. Blankets is a reflection and as such, the more one can do that, the more one will relate.

This is a title I will pick up again in a few years. My reading my be greatly impacted and changed, and it’s something I know I can come back to with an entirely different perspective. It certainly will be a perennial classic for that reason alone.