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On The Radar: 13 Books for March

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One of the most popular posts I do over at Book Riot is the round-up of upcoming YA fiction titles, and one of the most popular questions I seem to get on Twitter and in my inboxes is “what should I be looking out for in YA?” For a lot of readers, especially those who work with teens either in classrooms or in libraries, knowing what’s coming out ahead of time is valuable to get those books into readers’ hands before they even ask.

Each month, I’ll call out between 8 and 12 books coming out that should be on your radar. These include books by high-demand, well-known authors, as well as some up-and-coming and debut authors. They’ll be across a variety of genres, including diverse titles and writers. Not all of the books will be ones that Kimberly or I have read, nor will all of them be titles that we’re going to read and review. Rather, these are books that readers will be looking for and that have popped up regularly on social media, in advertising, in book mail, and so forth. It’s part science and part arbitrary and a way to keep the answer to “what should I know about for this month?” quick, easy, and under $300 (doable for smaller library budgets especially).

I’m cheating a little bit this month because there are so many releases worth knowing about. Rather than keep to the strict 12 title limit…I’m including 13. So, here are 13 titles to have on your March 2015 radar. All descriptions are from WorldCat, and I’ve included short notes as to why the title was included. 

Bone Gap by Laura Ruby (March 3): Everyone knows Bone Gap is full of gaps—gaps to trip you up, gaps to slide through so you can disappear forever. So when young, beautiful Roza went missing, the people of Bone Gap weren’t surprised. After all, it wasn’t the first time that someone had slipped away and left Finn and Sean O’Sullivan on their own. Just a few years before, their mother had high-tailed it to Oregon for a brand new guy, a brand new life. That’s just how things go, the people said. Who are you going to blame?

Finn knows that’s not what happened with Roza. He knows she was kidnapped, ripped from the cornfields by a dangerous man whose face he cannot remember. But the searches turned up nothing, and no one believes him anymore. Not even Sean, who has more reason to find Roza than anyone, and every reason to blame Finn for letting her go.

As we follow the stories of Finn, Roza, and the people of Bone Gap—their melancholy pasts, their terrifying presents, their uncertain futures—acclaimed author Laura Ruby weaves a heartbreaking tale of love and loss, magic and mystery, regret and forgiveness—a story about how the face the world sees is never the sum of who we are.  (via Goodreads)

Why: This literary tale has garnered a ton of buzz (sorry, sorry) and it’s earned a number of stars. I have no doubt we’ll be seeing a lot of Printz-related talk about this one as the year goes on. 

The Walls Around Us by Nova Ren Suma (March 24): Orianna and Violet are ballet dancers and best friends, but when the ballerinas who have been harassing Violet are murdered, Orianna is accused of the crime and sent to a juvenile detention center where she meets Amber and they experience supernatural events linking the girls together.

Why: I think Suma’s books should all be on everyone’s radars since they’re so outstanding, but this one might be her best. It’s received a ton of buzz, as well as three starred reviews, and all of it is well-deserved. This is a literary novel with huge appeal for readers, especially those who like their stories with a side of horror. The “Orange is the New Black Swan” tag line it’s had is pretty on point. 

The Bunker Diary by Kevin Brooks (March 1): I can’t believe I fell for it. It was still dark when I woke up this morning. As soon as my eyes opened I knew where I was. A low-ceilinged rectangular building made entirely of whitewashed concrete. There are six little rooms along the main corridor. There are no windows. No doors. The lift is the only way in or out. What’s he going to do to me?

Why: Brooks won the UK’s Carnegie medal in literature for this book when it published over there in 2013. It then went on to get some media attention, primarily about how this isn’t “really” a book “for teens.” With the discussion it generated there, I think this is a book to keep an eye on when it comes out in the US this month.

Shadow Scale by Rachel Hartman (March 10): Seraphina, half-dragon and half-human, searches for others like her who can make the difference in the war between dragons and humans in the kingdom of Goredd.

Why: This is the sequel to the 2013 Morris Award winning Seraphina. 

Death Marked by Leah Cypess (March 3): After killing the leader of a clan of assassins and falling in love with his heir, a young sorceress discovers she is the one person to bring down the evil Empire that has been oppressing her people for centuries, and now, in the heart of the Empire, Ileni herself is the deadliest weapon the assassins have ever had.

Why: This is the sequel to Cypess’s Death Sworn. This is a high fantasy series featuring magical powers. Kimberly quite enjoyed the first entry in this series. 

The Winner’s Crime by Marie Rutkoski (March 3): The engagement of Lady Kestrel to Valoria’s crown prince is the event of a lifetime, but to Kestrel it means living in a cage of her own making, so as she aches to tell the truth about her engagement, she becomes a skilled practitioner of deceit and as a spy passes information and gets close to uncovering a shocking secret.

Why: This is the sequel to the popular The Winner’s Curse book, which came out last year. This is a historical fantasy series worth knowing about. 

The Orphan Queen by Jodi Meadows (March 10): Orphaned as a child, Princess Wilhelmina together with her best friend Melanie return to the Indigo Kingdom to fight back and reclaim Wil’s throne. But Wil has a secret — one that could change everything.

Why: This is the launch of a new fantasy series. Meadows’s first series, “Newsoul,” was — and is — pretty popular and well reviewed by readers. 

The Wicked Will Rise by Danielle Paige (March 31): My name is Amy Gumm–and I’m the other girl from Kansas. After a tornado swept through my trailer park, I ended up in Oz. But it wasn’t like the Oz I knew from books and movies. Dorothy had returned, but she was now a ruthless dictator. Glinda could no longer be called the Good Witch. And the Wicked Witches who were left? They’d joined forces as the Revolutionary Order of the Wicked, and they wanted to recruit me. My mission? Kill Dorothy. Except my job as assassin didn’t work out as planned. Dorothy is still alive. The Order has vanished. And the home I couldn’t wait to leave behind might be in danger. Somehow, across a twisted and divided land, I have to find the Order, protect the true ruler of Oz, take Dorothy and her henchmen down–and try to figure out what I’m really doing here. 

Why: Paige’s first novel, Dorothy Must Die, was a New York Times Bestseller. This is the sequel/companion to that title. (Not a why, but worth noting that this series is from Full Fathom Five, so do with that what you will).

The Alex Crow by Andrew Smith (March 3): The story of Ariel, a Middle Eastern refugee who lives with an adoptive family in Sunday, West Virginia, is juxtaposed against those of a schizophrenic bomber, the diaries of a failed arctic expedition from the late nineteenth century, and a depressed, bionic reincarnated crow.

Why: It’s a new Andrew Smith title, and the first of two he’ll publish this year. This one is more along the lines of Grasshopper Jungle than Winger on the weird/strange scale. 

Hold Me Closer: The Tiny Cooper Story by David Levithan (March 17): Larger-than-life Tiny Cooper finally gets to tell his story, from his fabulous birth and childhood to his quest for true love and his infamous parade of ex-boyfriends, in the form of a musical he wrote.

Why: This is the companion to Will Grayson, will grayson, but it’s Tiny Cooper’s story. This is told in an alternate format, as well. 

The Cemetery Boys by Heather Brewer (March 30): When Stephen moves to the small, midwestern town where his father grew up, he quickly falls in with punk girl Cara and her charismatic twin brother, Devon. But the town has a dark secret, and the twins are caught in the middle of it.

Why: Heather Brewer is perennially popular, and this is a brand new stand-alone paranormal story from her. 



Vanishing Girls by Lauren Oliver (March 10): Two sisters inexorably altered by a terrible accident, a missing nine-year-old girl, and the shocking connection between them.

Why: Despite the fact I haven’t seen too many rave reviews of this one — not have I seen a lot of talk about it more broadly — it’s a brand new Lauren Oliver book, and she’s always popular. 

Black Dove, White Raven by Elizabeth Wein (March 31): Having moved to Ethiopia to avoid the prejudices of 1930s America, Emilia Menotti, her black adoptive brother Teo, and their mother Rhoda, a stunt pilot, are devoted to their new country even after war with Italy looms, drawing the teens into the conflict.

Why: New Elizabeth Wein is why enough. 

Giveaway: All The Rage by Courtney Summers

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Last fall I talked a little bit about why Courtney Summers’s upcoming All The Rage needs to be on your radar. Now that there’s an outstanding preorder campaign going on, wherein those who preorder the book can also pick up one of her backlist titles for free, I thought there was no better time to remind readers about this book and to offer up a giveaway.
I’ve talked extensively about how much I love Summers’s raw, gripping, gritty fiction before. I’ve also talked about how she writes tremendous, flawed, and sometimes (often?) unlikable female characters. 
The quick pitch for this book is Speak meets Veronica Mars, but it’s more than a quick pitch. This is a book about shame, about rape culture, and about how girls are victims of a world that doesn’t want to believe their stories. It’s feminist, it’s richly written, and it’s just earned its second starred review (one from Kirkus and one from Publishers Weekly). This is a book that will generate discussion and it’s one that should be read by teens and those who work with teens alike. 
I’ll write more about this book when release date — April 14 — is closer, but in the mean time and in honor of the fact that you can get two of Summers books for the price of one, I’m going to give away two preorders. This is open to US and Canadian residents. I’ll draw winners in mid-March and let you know you’ve won, order the book, as well as put in the request for your backlist title. 
If you’re stuck on which preorder title you want, I can assure you there’s not a wrong choice. 

Guest Post: On Writing Realistic, Flawed Parents in YA by Bryan Bliss (& giveaway of NO PARKING AT THE END TIMES)

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I’m really excited to share this guest post from debut author Bryan Bliss today. Bliss is the author of No Parking at the End Times, which I wrote about earlier this week. When I finished the book, I couldn’t stop thinking about the portrayal of the parents in this story, and I asked if he’d be interested in talking a bit more about parents in YA fiction. It’s a topic that comes up in terms of parents being bad pretty frequently, but rarely do we look at parental intentions in YA fiction — what if parents aren’t bad but don’t always come off in the best light, despite doing what they think is right?

Enjoy this thoughtful post and at the end, you have the chance to win a copy of Bliss’s novel.

Bryan Bliss is the author of No Parking at the End Times. He has worked with teenagers for more than ten years and holds an MFA from Seattle Pacific University. This is his first novel. You can find him on Twitter @brainbliss. 

When people read my debut novel, No Parking at the End Times, the first thing I hear is some combination of: Those awful parents! and Somebody call Child Protective Services! As they make mistake after mistake (most of which would be unforgivable on their own), and continue risking everything because of the misguided prophecy of a radio preacher… let’s just say that readers don’t exactly empathize with them.
And I get it, I really do. Facebook alone gives me enough reason to seek out blood pressure medication. Stories about parents who take their daughters – and its always the daughters – to purity balls are guaranteed to get my blood going. Yet, whenever somebody gets in a huff about the parents in my novel, I pause and immediately think: Yeah, but…
From the very beginning, I wanted No Parking to be a story about a girl losing faith in her parents. Granted, it would happen on a bigger scale than most of us will ever face. But that rush of understanding – when and how a teenager transitions to the reality that her parents are not perfect – is so real, so painful, it fueled every moment of the book. But it left me with a challenging quandary: what do you do with parents who – arguably – have ruined the lives of their children? How do you write about the people you’d usually mock on Facebook?
The problem, of course, is that many parents in young adult fiction are not flawed. Sure, they have cute issues – you know the type. Oh Dad, you’re so goofy! Mom! Stop trying to buy me all these clothes… I don’t want to wear a dress! These central-casting problems can easily be spun as authentic in the pages of a novel. They become subplots, little moments that challenge the main character in-between bigger plot points.
And that’s fine. I’m not going to talk badly about these characters. 
But I want more. A lot more. 
I want to see the perfect mom lose her shit at the school assembly. I want to see the dad who’s struggling to make rent accidentally – and regrettably – snap at his kids. I want parents who, in the pages of our novels, make real mistakes that actively and deeply affect the lives of their children. If we’re going to claim that young adult literature has depth – which it certainly does – we need to give our parents scars. We need real representations of the adults in most teenagers’ lives. We need them to be fallible. And we need to understand why they are that way.
A case could be made that there are already plenty of flawed parents in young adult literature. Richie, from Rainbow Rowell’s Eleanor and Park immediately comes to mind. Is there a more despised character in YA? For me, no. But is Richie flawed or is he a villain? For some, the line between the two is blurred – and not to our benefit. I struggle to find the moment when Richie is ever supportive, when he shows me that he is a loving adult for the children and teenagers in that story. 
And that’s why the vitriol for the parents in No Parking is so confounding. In their own confused way, they are trying to do the right thing for their kids. Their belief system tells them that – if they sell everything, if they really believe – they will be rewarded. So when the End doesn’t come – when a desperate family has its only answer taken away – what do they do? 
They stay. Of course they stay. This is their answer. What happens if they leave and then the Rapture happens? What then? No matter what anybody says, I will argue this point until I am out of breath. They stay.
Because they are good parents. They are confused parents. They are flawed parents. In my mind, these three things are inextricable and necessary. To use the parents in my novel simply as a way to mock their belief – without realizing how much pain they’re in, how worried they really are – is not only a mistake for the story, but also for the readers.
If we’re going to create believable adults in young adult literature, we need to be brave enough to not only write unlikable and flawed parents – but to write them with the same care and compassion we bring to Nuclear Mom and Dad.  If we don’t, we’re in danger of teaching teenagers that adulthood means finally having all of our shit worked out.

But I’m still not there. Are you?

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Want to win a copy of Bliss’s No Parking at the End Times? I’ll give away two finished copies sometime mid-March. As long as you can get books from the Book Depository, you can enter!

The Girl in the Book: Two Snappy Reviews

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Girl on a Wire by Gwenda Bond
Jules is a wire-walker, trained by her father (the best in the business) and passionate about her craft. When her family is invited to join a prominent, up and coming circus, Jules persuades them to agree, even though it means performing with their long-established enemies. Many years ago, mysterious deaths occurred, and Jules’ grandmother – suspected to be able to administer curses – was blamed. Now, strange accidents are happening again, and Jules teams up with the teenage boy from the other family to try and unravel what really happened all those years ago – whether it really was magic, whether her grandmother really was responsible, and how it all ties into to what’s going on now.

This book could be called magical realism. It’s never established 100% whether the curses are really magic, though Jules comes to believe they are by the end of the book (and I believed it as well). This aspect is the weakest part of the book. The performers are a superstitious lot and the curses all come down to an exploitation of those superstitions (an unlucky color sneaked onto a costume, for instance). Where the novel shines is in Jules’ performances on the wire, which are exciting and full of tension. She’s even better than her father, but the psychological effect of the curses is such that she wobbles. While balancing on a wire strung between buildings. With nothing to catch her below. Yikes. Off the wire, Jules wanders around playing detective, trying to solve the mystery of the past, and it’s not terribly interesting. It makes the book seem pretty episodic: a wire walk (fascinating!), then a clue-gathering mission (snooze), then another performance (nail-biting), and more sleuthing (zzzzzz). While I wouldn’t recommend the book to someone wanting a magical fantasy or a scintillating mystery, it should appeal to readers interested in the circus or high-risk professions.

Finished copy provided by the publisher.

The Girl From the Well by Rin Chupeco
This is solid horror with some creative storytelling choices. It’s told from the point of view of Okiku, the subject of the well-known Japanese ghost story The Ring, but her perspective is fragmented, and her story is really a frame for the story of a modern-day boy named Tark. Tark himself is haunted, not only by Okiku, but also by something much more malevolent. Okiku is initially passive in Tark’s story, but she’s drawn further into his life as she observes more of it – as she learns that Tark can sense her, too, and that she has a reason for being there with him. This ghost story is more unsettling than it is scary. It should appeal to fans of Japanese horror, though I thought it dragged a bit. It’s a debut, and I find that pacing is often a weakness in first novels. Still, it’s got a great (creepy!) ending and I appreciated the fresh perspective.

Book borrowed from my library.

Graphic Novel Roundup

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El Deafo by Cece Bell
I don’t read a lot of nonfiction, but I do have a weakness for graphic memoirs. This one is superb – perfect for middle grade readers, with vibrant cartoon-like art (that reminds me a little of the Arthur cartoons) and a winning story. It’s a great read for deaf and hearing readers alike, giving mirrors to the former and windows to the latter. Even aside from that aspect of the book, it’s just a great story about growing up, about the vagaries of childhood friendships (I think we have each had or been a Laura, a Ginny, or a Martha) and the challenges we all face as we navigate adolescence. The way the story is presented is what elevates the book above some other memoirs. The representation of the kids as long-eared rabbits is a genius idea, and Cece’s imagination of herself as a superhero looking for a sidekick is such a great parallel to the real challenges she faces. What kid hasn’t dreamed up something like this?

The Red Shoes and Other Tales by Metaphrog
This is a really slim collection of three stories by Metaphrog, two of them retellings of Hans Christian Andersen fairy tales and one original. The titular story involves a girl named Karen who is given some very fancy red shoes and finds herself unable to stop dancing while wearing them. The other Andersen tale is The Little Match Girl, and the original story is called The Glass Case, which has a similar feel to the others (un-Disneyfied and somewhat gruesome, depressing, or both). I love the rich colors on the cover, but I found the art to be mostly uninspired. Faces aren’t terribly expressive (they’re either neutral or shocked) and the colors are much more muted on the inside. (To be fair, this was a review copy; it’s possible the look will change in the final version.) The re-tellings themselves are simply done, like the original fairy tales but lacking the depth I find simple language often gives. I’m always eager for fairy tale interpretations, but this one fell short.

This One Summer by Mariko and Jillian Tamaki
I have some prejudices when it comes to graphic novels, the biggest of which is I don’t really care for black and white art. This One Summer isn’t precisely black and white (it has a purplish/bluish tinge to it), but it basically is, and that’s the main reason I passed it by when it was first published. (I pretty much read every single full-color graphic novel First Second produces.) And then it won a Caldecott Honor and a Printz Honor, so I re-evaluated. The art really is very good. With black and white art, I always have to force myself to stop and peruse it rather than breezing by it, taking it in simply as a part of the story. Some of the spreads are even quite lovely, though I’d say Jillian Tamaki’s style is more interesting than beautiful. Her characters are expressive and diverse, and her backdrops are wonderfully detailed.

Books borrowed from my local library, except for The Red Shoes, which was provided by the publisher.