STACKED

books

Audiosynced: The False Princess by Eilis O’Neal

|

Nalia is the crown princess of the country of Thorvaldor, raised to know that she will one day be queen. Except she’s wrong – she’s called into the throne room one day and told by the people she thought were her parents that her real name is Sinda, and she’s a false princess.

When the real Nalia was born, the Oracle gave a prophecy that stated she would die before she reached age 16. Therefore, the princess was taken to a safe location and another baby – Sinda – was brought in to take her place for sixteen years. Now that the real Nalia has survived to age sixteen, the charade can end. Nalia is brought to the palace and welcomed by the citizens of Thorvaldor, while Sinda is sent to a country town to live with her aunt (her real mother abandoned her and her father died some time ago).

Sinda, while not proud, finds this arrangement almost unbearable. Her aunt is a dyer, a trade which Sinda knows nothing about, and her attempts to learn are fruitless. Furthermore, the woman is cold and unsympathetic, and the townspeople gossip about Sinda. She has no real friends there and misses Kiernan, the noble boy who was her dear friend at the castle.

When Sinda discovers that she has magical abilities, she leaves her aunt and the country town and moves back to the capital city. She’s taken in as an apprentice by an eccentric old female wizard and begins to settle in to a content – if not completely happy – life. But things don’t remain calm. Soon, Sinda uncovers a conspiracy involving her, Nalia, and yet another girl in another place. She and Kiernan dig into the past in order to expose the person who set in motion a plan to topple the ruling family sixteen years ago.

There were a lot of things I really enjoyed about The False Princess, Eilis O’Neal’s debut novel. Sinda has a strong, interesting voice. She’s believable with understandable strengths and weaknesses. She seems like an actual teenager, not an adult who occasionally makes bad decisions. Most importantly, she grows throughout the novel – she learns to stand up for herself and not just accept what is given to her. She learns to ask (or fight) for more.

The plot itself is fairly standard, but that’s not a bad thing. People who pick up books like these want a fun mix of magic, adventure, and romance, and that’s exactly what O’Neal delivers. And she did manage to surprise me at a pivotal moment, which I really appreciated.

Mandy Williams narrates the story slowly, in a soft but clear voice that is perfect for contemplative Sinda. She doesn’t give much variation for other characters, but that doesn’t harm the story. It’s told in the first person, so the minimal differentiation makes sense.

That said, I felt like the writing was lacking in parts. In half a dozen spots, I was able to speak the story aloud simultaneously with Williams – and I had never read or listened to the book before. This indicates clichéd or unoriginal prose, which is too bad. O’Neal is deft at characterizing Sinda, but the writing lacked sparkle otherwise.

I’d hand this one to fans of re-told fairy tales and books in the vein of Ella Enchanted (though it doesn’t come close to Gail Carson Levine’s level of humor and charm). It doesn’t deliver anything new, but it’s a tried and true kind of story and it’s told well. As a tween or young teen, I just know I would have pictured myself as Sinda (who is somewhat timid, has brown hair, and loves to read) as I read the book. It’s definitely a winner.

The Babysitter Murders by Janet Ruth Young

|

I like books that are a little twisted. The more grounded in reality a book is and the more twists is throws, the more it makes me question character motives and desires, the more I find myself enjoying the book. Janet Ruth Young’s forthcoming The Babysitter Murders was strange, haunting and one of those reads that will be sticking with me for a long, long time. In the midst of creating a plot rife with horror, Young offers us a sympathetic and relatable main character who wants nothing more than help for struggling with a severe mental disorder. Moreover, this book was even a little funny.

Dani is a babysitter, and she loves the little boy for whom she’s in charge. It’d been a dream for her to babysit, and she lucked out with babysitting Alex. The book opens with something innocuous: the television news reporting on a murder that’d taken place. Dani, wanting to protect Alex, takes him out of the room and tries to wipe the images of the dead child’s body being removed from the scene of the crime out of her mental image.

But she can’t. In fact, this scene keeps replaying in her mind. Dani’s fixated on this idea, and she begins to wonder if maybe she could commit a murder so vicious. It’s not that she wants to, it’s that she would never want to do something so gruesome. But the thoughts won’t escape her head, and every time she sees Alex, she has to stop thinking about what it would be like to kill him. She goes through routines of making sure things like the sharp knives are hidden, that any potential weapons are out of her reach and line of vision.

Dani can’t handle the thoughts anymore. She wants to be able to function normally, to not think about killing this child she adores so much. And she reaches out — she tells Alex’s mother about these thoughts in an effort to get some help and in an effort to clear her mind. Everyone has strange thoughts, and Dani wants to get it out there.

The problem comes, of course, in that Alex’s mother is not okay with hearing Dani has had thoughts of killing her son. Even though Dani’s admitted to never doing it and not wanting to do it, Alex’s mother doesn’t do Dani any favors; instead, his mother calls the police to come “take care” of this girl who wants to kill her son. She’s sent to the police, where she’s questioned, then she’s sent home, where her life gets only harder, not easier, when she begins seeing a therapist for these thoughts. Dani’s got obsessive compulsive disorder, with an emphasis on the obsessive, rather than compulsive, aspects, and the support structure she desperately needs to overcome her thoughts just doesn’t exist.

In the effort to not spoil the story, I won’t explain why the ending is one of the most enjoyable I’ve read in a while. But it was — Dani will get her say in the matter of her life, even if it may land her in more, rather than less, trouble down the road.

The Babysitter Murders was one of the most terrifying (yet funny) books I’ve read in a while. Young manages to take an exceptionally scary topic and idea and weave just enough humor within it to temper the heavy issues. The book is fast paced, and it’s one I read nearly in one sitting because I was eager to learn what would happen to Dani: would she ever recover? Would she put these obsessive, unhealthy thoughts into action? Would she ever get the help she desperately needs?

Dani was an exceptionally well written and sympathetic character. We’re given insight into her thought process and her mind throughout the story, and even though it is skewed from normal thinking, we actually understand everything she’s going through. Everyone gets fixated on thoughts, so we relate; where we realize there’s a problem with Dani’s thinking is that she cannot let it go, and she goes through the motions to ensure she doesn’t accidentally follow through in some of her thoughts. In one scene, she’s in music rehearsal, thinking about doing something to her instructor; she becomes so obsessed with whether she’s actually performed the act she’s been thinking about that she has to step back and ask her friend if she’s just done something weird or out of the ordinary (she hasn’t). It takes what most of us experience on a daily basis and amplifies it. For me as a reader, the scariest things are those I understand and relate to, not those that are so outlandish I could never connect with — but here, I connected with Dani because I understand completely these strange, skewed thoughts. The difference being, of course, I can stop mine while she cannot.

The biggest thing that stood out to me in the book was how sympathetic Dani was as a character. She’s the one who reaches out for help again and again, even though she’s treated poorly in the process. Rather than allow herself to do something that could land her in huge trouble and ruin the lives of others, she reaches out to an adult she trusts for help. The problem, of course, is that the adult betrays her trust and immediately considers her a criminal, rather than someone with a true mental disorder. It’s not just in this instance, though, that Dani becomes a target. After she’s been taken away from Alex’s home by police, her arrest hits the newspapers; the police reports list taking an under age girl into custody for a “threat” to kill a small child. Though her name is never listed as the girl (since she is underage), it takes little more than some Googling for people in town to figure out who the person is, and she becomes a target for hatred in her community. Even the police write her off as a rich kid who needed a hobby, rather than a very mentally ill teen who needed help. As readers, we know what a good person she is, but there is no one in this story who is on her side. Dani cares so deeply about the people in her life, yet no one wants to reach out and show her the same sort of love. It’s painful to read because we understand her and because we want the people around her to get it, too.

Onto the humor of the story — perhaps funny isn’t the word many people would use. Perhaps the reason this book resonated as a bit humorous to me was because it’s uncomfortable, and Young knows this. To make it less a horror read, she offers just enough small details and interactions between characters that are absurd, and these absurdities undercut the seriousness of the greater plot and scenes. It’s not played as a trick or as a slight of hand, but rather as a way to reground the story in reality. Because even in the midst of exploring a severe mental illness, there is still a lot of humor in life and in character, so it’s critical these moments are highlighted. Both the readers and the characters deserve these moments to breathe and recollect. I’ll be honest in saying I don’t know if it’s a universal humor nor that everyone will find the funny in the book, but for me as a reader, it was spot on. It was a bit of an uncomfortable and unsettling kind of funny that I appreciate greatly and find is hard to nail. Young, however, succeeds here.

As I mentioned earlier, though, this book ends with a bang. I cheered for Dani throughout the story, and I wanted her to get better and find a way to recover and earn respect again in her community. In the last chapter, I think she achieves this, and she does it in a manner that shouldn’t have caused me to cheer (but it did). Although this story is focused on Dani’s OCD, it’s also a story about relationships and how tricky they can be to navigate and understand; the end, I think, tied up the loose ends about what relationships meant to someone with such disordered thinking.

This book reminded me a lot of Tom Perrotta’s Little Children, though Young’s target readership is young adults. The books both look at the effects of being an outsider within a community, and both bring up the idea of vigilante justice. Dani becomes a target of violence and hatred out of misunderstanding and out of prejudice, much like the recovered pedophile does in Perrotta’s story.

The Babysitter Murders is one to hand off to fans of psychological thrillers, though there’s less emphasis on the thriller aspect and more on the psychological. It’s a contemporary story about mental illness, and it’s one that won’t be for every reader — it can get a little visual in discussing murder and justice. It’s suited to its age group, and I think it’s easily one of those books that teens who prefer adult contemporary titles will find enjoyable (and it may even change their mind about any prejudices they may have about ya books). I could see fans of books like Stolen (Christopher) and Forbidden (Suzuma) enjoying this one quite a bit, as well, as it tackles a heavy issue while developing a fantastically sympathetic lead character. This is a book that will have easy crossover appeal to adult readers, as well, especially those who like books in the same vein as Tom Perrotta.

Even though it’s a heavy book, it is balanced with the right amount of humor, too, making it one of those books that perfectly toys with the reader’s mind and emotions.

Galley received from the publisher. The Babysitter Murders will be published July 26.

Steel by Carrie Vaughn

|

The theme for this week is time travel, it seems. In Steel, Carrie Vaughn’s second novel for teens, we’re introduced to Jill, an expert fencer. Jill has just lost a big fencing match and with it, the chance to compete in the Olympics. She’s pretty downtrodden and therefore doesn’t take much pleasure in the vacation her family takes to the Bahamas.

When wandering the beach, Jill stumbles over the tip of a rapier, the actual sword that her fencing sword is modeled after. She pockets it and goes on a boat ride with her family later in the day. When the boat hits a wave, she’s thrown overboard along with the bit of sword and finds herself in the past, being rescued by a passing pirate ship. Luckily, the crew doesn’t kill her immediately – this ship is captained by a woman named Marjory Cooper, and she’s kinder than a male captain would have been. Captain Cooper gives Jill two options: she can sign the crew’s roster and become a part of the crew, or she can remain their prisoner. Jill chooses the first option, hoping it will give her the time and ability to find her way back home.

There’s a fair amount of swashbuckling going on, but it’s pretty tame. For a historical account of piracy, there’s not a whole lot of blood and not that much fighting to be had, either. There are a couple subplots involving the capture of a slave ship and a teeny tiny romance between Jill and one of the young pirates, but for the most part the action centers around Cooper and her crew’s pursuit of an evil pirate captain named Blaine – the owner of the rest of the sword Jill found on the beach. Cooper has a personal vendetta against him, and Jill believes he’s the key to her return to her own time.

Despite its subject matter, Steel was pretty simplistically written. Vaughn has a straightforward, no frills style that made it hard for me to really connect with the story. It felt like she was perhaps writing for an audience younger than the story deserved. As a result, I wasn’t rooting for Jill as much as I could have, and I wasn’t totally invested in her romance or Cooper’s personal vendetta either. Unfortunately, this made Steel into a rather forgettable book for me.

Another side effect of the more juvenile writing style is that things never felt properly serious. I never got the feeling that there was much at stake, either for Jill or for Captain Cooper, despite the fact that their very lives were, indeed, at stake. What should have been an epic story with high adventure felt much more like an inconsequential romp. That’s not to say stories like these shouldn’t be fun, but they should induce a little more heart-pounding and nail-biting. The events of Steel made my heart beat about as fast as getting a new haircut or trying on a fancy dress. 

I’d recommend Steel for younger teens or tweens and people who are interested in pirate lore but don’t have much of a stomach for violence. There are some nice historical details about piracy (and famous pirates) that add interest, and Vaughn includes a brief author’s note that explains where her story deviates from reality (Did female pirate captains really exist?). It’s also nice to see fencing represented in a story for teens, something I haven’t come across anywhere other than Jane Yolen’s Foiled, but most readers can probably pass on this one.

Reviews, Twitter-style

|

Kim’s post last week had me thinking about a bunch of books I’ve read lately that I don’t think I’ll get the chance to write full reviews for. So I offer up a handful of reviews, Twitter-style. To be fair, they’re all a little longer than 140 characters, but they’re short and to the point.

The Geeks Shall Inherit the Earth by Alexandra Robbins: I’ve read every one of Robbins’s non-fiction books because her writing appeals to me. In this book, she’s looked into the lives of a number of high school kids from all areas of the country and with a variety of backgrounds and explores what and why they are considered geeks in their schools. She then gives her reasoning for why these kids will grow up more successful than those who aren’t willing to embrace their geekdom in school. This wasn’t a favorite of mine, as I felt she dragged too long into the individual stories, and spent too little time on the social science aspect of her thesis. It’s one worth skimming.

My Life Undecided by Jessica Brody: This is a lightweight book about a girl who decides to put her life into the hands of her blog readers. Brooklyn had gotten herself into a heap of trouble, and now she needed help making good choices. At times this book was funny, and at other times, I found Brooklyn an annoying and unsympathetic character. I kind of felt like the story here (about her blog) didn’t develop soon enough, and a number of really interesting and huge topics were brought up at the very end of the book that would have merited longer exploration. That said, it has appeal to those who like lighter, girly reads. I liked this one a lot more than Brody’s first novel, The Karma Club.

The Day Before by Lisa Schroeder: This is my first Lisa Schroeder book, but it won’t be my last. This novel in verse follows two teens — a boy and a girl — who are spending “the day before” at a remote beach to clear their minds. Of course, they run into one another and have an amazing day together, wherein they’re able to forget the things they’ll be facing the next day. It’s a bit of a tear jerker ala Gayle Forman and will work for younger teens, as well as older teens. The issues these teens face are fresh and interesting, and the romance is quite sweet.

The Near Witch by Victoria Schwab (August 2): I’m not a big fantasy reader, but this fairy tale came highly recommended, and I really did enjoy it. Lexi, the main character, is a great leader in resolving the problem at hand — the appearance of a strange boy in town and the sudden disappearance of local children. It’s a story about a small town fearful of outsiders that has developed a mythos about the landscape surrounding them. Lexi’s determined to figure it out and she’s quite an optimistic character, but what really stood out to me was how flawed she was in some of the decisions she made, being too trusting, then too untrusting; it made her lovable. This is a clean, well-paced story with quite a bit of action and suspense and it’s a stand alone!

To Timbuktu by Casey Sciezcka and Steve Weinberg: This non-fiction book’s non-traditional format really worked for me. It’s told in vignettes and through illustrations, and it’s the story of Casey and Steve’s exploration of nine different countries in the two years following their college graduation. It’s funny and enlightening, and I thought they did an excellent job depicting the countries they were in quite well. I loved that China exceeded their expectations while Thailand didn’t. That said, there were times this book really dragged, and I felt like there was too much whining from the characters. I guess my challenge was I felt there was a real sense of entitlement in the story, and a lack of acknowledgment to this. It became hard to sympathize in some of their plights. That said, I liked watching their relationship grow and flourish in their travels, though I think it’s definitely a much more mature relationship than is usually depicted in ya, making me question whether this book is really meant for a teen readership or if it will really appeal more to the college and post-college crowd.

Ruby Red by Kerstin Gier

|

I have what may be an unhealthy obsession with time travel. When I was a teen, I had bookmarked several sites that speculated on the possibility of time travel, and whether we’d eventually be able to travel forward and backward in time, or maybe just forward OR backward. I spent a long time wondering if I would rather solve the mystery of Stonehenge or see what America would be like in the year 2500.

So you can see why this book would appeal. In Ruby Red, the translation into English of the German novel by Kerstin Gier, we meet Gwyneth Shepherd, who is nothing special. It’s her cousin Charlotte who is the special one – she’s inherited the family gene that allows her to travel backward in time. Charlotte is at the age where the ability is supposed to manifest itself, and she’s got the trademark dizzy spells that indicate imminent travel.

But, surprisingly, it’s Gwen who travels one day. While Charlotte has been trained her whole life on how to survive in the past, Gwen has received no training. Without warning, she’s thrust into the world of time travel, and she has to learn how to behave in the past without giving herself away. She also becomes embroiled in the family machinations, which involve a secret order of time travelers and a strange machine called the chronograph that helps control the time traveling and needs the blood of the travelers to work. And there’s a boy time-traveler from another family, Gideon, who was probably in love with Charlotte and resents the fact that Gwen has replaced her. Unluckily for Gwen, she’s tasked with traveling back in time with Gideon and getting the blood of all the past time travelers (there aren’t many) to add to the machine, for reasons that are deliberately kept secret.

The biggest problem with Ruby Red is that it’s all exposition. We wait a long time for Gwen to finally tell her family that she’s traveled, and even when she has, the pace doesn’t really pick up. There’s a somewhat exciting battle near the end of the book that serves as its climax, but it doesn’t answer any questions. In fact, no questions are answered throughout the entire novel, and it makes for a frustrating read, not a satisfying one.

Furthermore, the book is framed by two confusing chapters about Lucy and Paul, two time-travelers from Gwen’s time who ran away – disappearing into the past – several years ago, and these chapters made no sense to me with the information I was provided. Perhaps they would make sense on a re-read after I’ve had a chance to read the book’s sequels, but I doubt I’ll put forth the effort.

The last thing I’ll complain about is somewhat small, but important. There’s a lot of sexism in the book. I should note that it’s not something the author supports. In fact, it’s used to show that certain characters are the bad guys. This is a problem. It’s like the author had this conversation with herself: “OK, here’s where I introduce the bad guy. How can I show that he’s bad? Oh, I know, I can have him make disparaging remarks about women!” It’s too easy, and it’s too pervasive. After awhile it just gets irritating to read about.

I think Ruby Red had a lot of potential that went unfulfilled. A time travel gene is such a neat concept (the Time Traveler’s Wife made mega money off of it), and Gwen has a unique narrative voice. It’s possible that some of the confusion and other faults are due to the translation. Ultimately, though, this isn’t a book I can really recommend. There’s not enough actual time travel, no resolution, and too much deliberate obfuscation. It’s not a bad read, it’s just not a particularly good one. There are plenty of other good books out there that are more worth your time.