STACKED

books

Get Genrefied: Humor

|

Every month at STACKED, we’re highlighting a genre or subgenre within YA literature, talking about the key elements and some of the recent offerings fitting within it. This started as part of Angela’s reader’s advisory challenge, and so far we’ve covered steampunk, horror, science fiction, high fantasy, mysteries and thrillers, verse novels, contemporary realistic, historical fiction, graphic novels, romance, and dystopia. This month, we’re tackling the last and final genre, humor. 

Because we have loved writing this series so much, we want to keep it going through next year, as well. We’ve got some ideas for genres we’d like to tackle, but included at the end of this guide, there is a very short survey asking you if there’s a genre you’d like to know about so we can add it to our list of possibilities. 

Humor, like horror, isn’t so much a genre as it is a mood or tone of a book. Every genre can feature humor within it — there are humorous science fiction novels, fantasy novels, horror novels, and so on. Also like horror, humor can be really dark or it can be really light. There are dark satires and there are lighter comedic romances. There’s also plenty of room for humor in YA non-fiction, particularly when it comes to teen memoirs. 

Humor a characteristic, and it’s the sort of characteristic that is entirely subjective to the reader. What one person finds as humorous another person might not understand as funny. There are many books that have funny elements, even when they tackle a difficult subject matter. Some readers may appreciate and see it as humorous while others may see the difficult topic tackled as setting the tone of the book instead. An entire book doesn’t need to be knee-slapping funny to be considered humorous: it just needs to have moments of funny within it to fit as humorous. 

Jennifer Brannon notes in her guide to humor at Novelist, humor is both subjective and situational. It depends on the reader’s mood as much as the reader’s sense of humor, as well as the situation and subjective views of the characters in the story being read. But on the most basic level, humor just makes someone laugh. 

There are surprisingly few resources available on the topic of humor in YA fiction, and part of the reason is because it’s such a subjective aspect of a novel. That doesn’t mean that appreciation for humor doesn’t exist at all; readers and reviews often point out when a book is funny, and there are authors who can be pretty easily pointed to as those who frequently pen humorous stories. A few resources worth knowing about or keeping an eye on though:

  • Humor Writers of America: though their website is bare bones, this new organization is meant to be a gathering spot for those who do write humor. One of the founders, Adam Selzer, may be familiar. He’s written a few YA books, including the humorous I Kissed a Zombie and I Liked It. The site has a small directory of current members, which might be helpful in scoping out some new names in humor writing.
  • Molly Wetta developed this awesome flow chart to YA-friendly humor, which is well worth having on hand for readers who “want to read something funny,” but might not be able to explain exactly what they’re looking for in a funny book. 
Here’s a look at the wide-range of humor in YA fiction. As you likely remember, last month we did a big roundup of contemporary YA fiction featuring humor, which was kicked off with a guest post from author Maurene Goo on why it is she writes and appreciates funny in her stories. I’ve left those authors and titles off this round up and instead focused at humor across a variety of genres. All descriptions come from WorldCat, and I’ve tried to stick to books published in the last few years. Feel free to jump in with other titles and authors whose books would fit with humor. 
Some authors to have on your radar for those seeking a funny YA book include Meg Cabot, Carl Hiaasen, Lemony Snicket, David Lubar, Louise Rennison, Ally Carter, Gordon Korman, and Josh Berk. You’d also do well handing over Douglas Adams, who has great crossover appeal and humor that translates. 

Beauty Queens by Libba Bray: When a plane crash strands thirteen teen beauty contestants on a mysterious island, they struggle to survive, to get along with one another, to combat the island’s other diabolical occupants, and to learn their dance numbers in case they are rescued in time for the competition.

Mothership by Martin Leicht and Isla Neal (first in series): In 2074, while attending the Hanover School for Expecting Teen Mothers aboard an earth-orbiting spaceship, sixteen-year-old Elvie finds herself in the middle of an alien race war and makes a startling discovery about her pregnancy.

Hold Me Closer, Necromancer by Lish McBride: Sam LaCroix, a Seattle fast-food worker and college dropout, discovers that he is a necromancer, part of a world of harbingers, werewolves, satyrs, and one particular necromancer who sees Sam as a threat to his lucrative business of raising the dead.

Nation by Terry Pratchett: After a devastating tsunami destroys all that they have ever known, Mau, an island boy, and Daphne, an aristocratic English girl, together with a small band of refugees, set about rebuilding their community and all the things that are important in their lives.

Oh. My. Gods. by Tera Lynn Childs: When her mother suddenly decides to marry a near-stranger, Phoebe, whose passion is running, soon finds herself living on a remote Greek island, completing her senior year at an ancient high school where the students and teachers are all descended from gods or goddesses.

Sean Griswold’s Head by Lindsey Leavitt: After discovering that her father has multiple sclerosis, fifteen-year-old Payton begins counseling sessions at school, which lead her to become interested in a boy in her biology class, have a falling out with her best friend, develop an interest in bike riding, and eventually allow her to come to terms with life’s uncertainties.

Notes From the Blender by Trish Cook and Brendan Halpin: Two teenagers–a heavy-metal-music-loving boy who is still mourning the death of his mother years earlier, and a beautiful, popular girl whose parents divorced because her father is gay–try to negotiate the complications of family and peer relationships as they get to know each other after learning that their father and mother are marrying each other.

So Punk Rock (And Other Ways to Disappoint Your Mother) by Micol Ostow: Four suburban New Jersey students from the Leo R. Gittleman Jewish Day School form a rock band that becomes inexplicably popular, creating exhiliration, friction, confrontation, and soul-searching among its members.

You Killed Wesley Payne by Sean Beaudoin: When hard-boiled, seventeen-year-old private investigator Dalton Rev transfers to Salt River High to solve the case of a dead student, he has his hands full trying to outwit the police, negotiate the school’s social hierarchy, and get paid.

Does My Head Look Big In This? by Randa Abdel-Fattah: Year Eleven at an exclusive prep school in the suburbs of Melbourne, Australia, would be tough enough, but it is further complicated for Amal when she decides to wear the hijab, the Muslim head scarf, full-time as a badge of her faith–without losing her identity or sense of style.

fml by Shaun David Hutchinson: At a party near the end of senior year, seventeen-year-old Simon Cross imagines his life with and without Cassie, the girl he has yearned for since they were freshman, and begins to discover the unpredictable wonders of life his best friends, Ben and Coop, have urged him to explore.

Sucks to Be Me by Kimberly Pauley (also the sequel): When sixteen-year-old Mina is forced to take a class to help her decide whether or not to become a vampire like her parents, she also faces a choice between her life-long best friend and the boy she has a crush on versus new friends and possible boyfriends in her mandatory “vampire lessons.”

Bubble World by Carol Snow: After sixteen-year-old Fresia learns–and tells her friends–that their perfect life on a luxurious tropical island is not real, she is banished from her virtual world to the “mainland,” where people are ugly, school is hard, and families are dysfunctional.

Two Lies and a Spy by Kat Carlton: Sixteen-year-old Kari juggles saving her spy parents while impressing the guy she has been in love with forever.

There is No Dog by Meg Rosoff: When the beautiful Lucy prays to fall in love, God, an irresponsible youth named Bob, chooses to answer her prayer personally, to the dismay of this assistant, Mr. B who must try to clean up the resulting catastrophes.

Gorgeous by Paul Rudnick: When eighteen-year-old Becky Randle’s mother dies, she is whisked away
from a trailer park to New York City, where fashion designer Tom Kelly
offers to transform her into a glamorous Rebecca, a girl fit for a
prince–but soon she begins to fear that she will lose touch with her
real self.

Etiquette & Espionage by Gail Carriger: In an alternate England of 1851, spirited fourteen-year-old Sophronia is
enrolled in a finishing school where, she is suprised to learn, lessons
include not only the fine arts of dance, dress, and etiquette, but also
diversion, deceit, and espionage.

Skulduggery Pleasant by Derek Landy: When twelve-year-old Stephanie inherits her weird uncle’s estate, she
must join forces with Skulduggery Pleasant, a skeleton mage, to save the
world from the Faceless Ones. (This one skews middle grade.)

Carter Finally Gets It by Brent Crawford: Awkward freshman Will Carter endures many painful moments during his
first year of high school before realizing that nothing good comes
easily, focus is everything, and the payoff is usually incredible.

Croak by Gina Damico: A delinquent sixteen-year-old girl is sent to live with her uncle for
the summer, only to learn that he is a Grim Reaper who wants to teach
her the family business.

***
We’d love to know if there are genres (or moods, like humor) our readers are interested in having us write guides to in 2014. Should we stick to big genres or is there an interest in subgenres? Some of the ones we’ve got in mind to cover include urban fiction, urban fantasy, inspirational fiction, non-fiction, fairy tale retellings, satires, and westerns. Let us below know if any of these are of interest and/or what else you’d love to know more about that we haven’t already covered. 

Hardcover to Paperback: Six YA Book Makeovers to Consider

|

Let’s do another round of hardcover to paperback makeovers, shall we? Every season, it’s fun to see what books are getting new looks, but it’s even more interesting to wonder whether the new covers nail the story better than the original. As usual, some of these are great changes and some definitely are not.

I picked up a copy of Steven Arntson’s The Wrap-Up List quite a while ago but never got around to reading it. I love the envelope cover, which is the initial hardcover look. It’s a really simplistic design, but it tells the reader quire a bit about the story. It’s gender-neutral, and it looks like the kind of book that could have good readership across age groups because there’s not a person on there nor is there an image that could be dated. But the argument here could be the exact opposite of what I’ve said: because it’s so simplistic a cover, it maybe doesn’t tell you anything about the story or about the intended audience of it. It’s possible that’s why I haven’t picked it up yet — I don’t know whether it’d fit whatever reading mood I’m in because I don’t know what it’s about. It’s not necessarily iconic nor memorable.

The paperback redesign on the right is also simplistic, but the addition of the tag line actually adds a lot to explaining what the story is about. This is a story about someone coming to terms with the end of their life! The wrap-up list then likely refers to the things they’re hoping to “wrap up” before they don’t have the time to do so any longer. The paperback also seems to “age” the book into a category a little bit more, too: it’s a torn piece of notebook paper, and the title itself is handwritten in pen. The note looks like it’s taped on the top of a student test. It’s a book meant for teen readers.

For me, this is a pretty even exchange. I think the paperback better targets the readership, but I don’t think either one is necessarily bad nor is either one outstanding. The Wrap-up List will be out in paperback from Houghton Mifflin Harcourt in paperback on May 13, 2014.

One of the things that made Out of the Easy‘s hardcover stand out to me was the color. It’s a couple of shades of really stand-out green, and it’s easy to spot on shelves. The cover image itself isn’t necessarily the most memorable, though. The girl looking at the bird cage fits the story (in a metaphoric sense), but I don’t know if it’s an iconic cover overall. It does, however, say this is a YA book. What’s interesting to pay attention to on the hardcover is what’s pulled out. The author’s name is large and noticeable, as is the title. But what caught my eye was that it notes she’s a New York Times Bestselling author. Hold that for a minute.

The paperback redesign, available March 4, does nothing for me. It reminds me a lot of an adult fiction novel, perhaps something literary or perhaps something geared toward female readers — I don’t want to call it chick lit nor women’s fiction, but that’s the vibe of the cover I’m getting. It’s kind of boring and forgettable in a way that the hardcover edition isn’t. It’s faded out, and even the lone hanging shirt and suitcase to me say something about the forgettable quality of the image. Check out, though, how the title and author treatments are different on the paperback: Ruta’s name is much larger and more noticeable, as she takes up two lines and nearly 1/3 of the real estate on the cover. The title, in contrast, is very small and positioned in such a way it’s easy to overlook. Rather than having Ruta called out as a NYT Bestseller by her name, she’s noted instead as an internationally best selling author (though the NYT recognition comes, too, just later on on the cover). And then there’s a blurb from Entertainment Weekly, too. For me, this cover is angled specifically at adult readers, rather than teen readers. It has a big name publication giving it acclaim, two notes of the author’s sales capabilities, and a cover that looks somewhat generic and inoffensive.

For me, the hardcover is much stronger than the paperback here for YA readers. Though for adult readers, I suspect the paperback is more appealing.

Michael Grant’s Gone series is getting a new makeover in paperback. Right now, the paperback editions of the hardcover books have the same cover, but with the publication of the final book in the series, the paperbacks are going in a new direction. So on the left, the hardcover edition of Gone, the first in the series. It’s a fairly generic — and I’ll even say unattractive — cover. Two people looking in the distances. They don’t really have anything memorable about them. But I’d say if anything, the original cover is gender neutral, even if it doesn’t tell you anything about the book itself. There is a tagline on the hardcover, “This is the way the world ends,” but that tag line in the original paperback edition changes. It’s instead a pull quote from a Booklist review. Later books in the series don’t have a tag line, but a pull quote from Stephen King.

I note the Stephen King pull quote because in the new paperback edition, shown on the right, it’s there but easy to miss. The white font sort of fades into the bright coloring of the background. For the most part, I dig this makeover. It’s gender neutral in the same way that the original covers are, but it gets rid of the people who are on it. And while I think they’re gender neutral, part of me wonders if the makeover helps give these books even more boy appeal than they originally had: they look more like action novels than they do Serious Stories with people on the front. Also worth noting that Grant’s name is much bigger on the new paperbacks, as is his distinction as a New York Times Bestseller.

For me, the new paperbacks are winners here. I think they’re much more appealing and they stand out. The other covers look like any number of other series (think Kevin Emerson’s series, for one).

To a cover makeover I don’t get at all: Robin LaFevers’s Dark Triumph. On the left, the original cover. I know very little about the time setting and story here, aside from what Kimberly’s written, so I don’t know about accuracy or relevancy to the story. But I know so much that this cover fits very well with the cover for the first book in the series, Grave Mercy. I like the tag line “Vengeance is divine,” and I like that this series has done a really good job of noting that it’s part of the His Fair Assassin series. It’s a very small detail, but it’s something worth its weight in a library setting for readers, as well as for those who help readers but may not be familiar with YA books. Overall, the cover on the left just fits.

But the paperback is getting a different look — but it’s a very small different look. The title and author treatments are identical, as are the tag line and noting of the series at the top of the cover. What’s changed is that the girl in the image is no longer looking from the side out, but she’s instead looking straight on at the reader. She’s not wearing a head covering, but instead, her hair is hanging down and loose. She doesn’t necessarily look like she belongs in a period in history in this cover. She looks very modern. Even somewhat goth. Rather than have her dagger to her chest, she’s now got it pointed out. This is a very action-oriented cover in the way that the other image is not. What’s interesting, too, is how the background’s changed. There’s light behind her in the paperback, where there is nothing but a closed space in the hardcover.

This isn’t a bad makeover in the least. I like that the designers took care to keep the style so similar that it won’t look weird when paired with Grave Mercy, which has not received a makeover in paperback form. But I can’t help wondering why the change? Was there something in the text that makes the paperback more true to the story than the hardcover? If anyone has read this one and wants to weigh in — whether one is a better and more truer design than the other — I’d love to know. Perhaps it has to do with historical accuracy?

The paperback edition of Dark Triumph will be available April 1.

It feels like I read Without Tess by Marcella Pixley a long time ago, and when I go back into my reviews, it turns out that I read and reviewed this one in September 2011. The hardcover on the left is very quiet, and I think it reflects the story quite well. I really like the title treatment and the use of the words and font down the front. They stand in place of any kind of tag line or blurb. The author’s name is small and in the corner, but it’s not hard to see and it stands out in dark gray against the stark white of the rest of the cover.

Of course, the quiet cover means that it doesn’t stand out on a shelf, nor does it necessarily give the reader any insight into what the story is about. But there is something to be considered about how the cover conveys tone very well here.

The paperback of Without Tess will release May 13, 2014, which is quite a long time between the initial publication in hardcover in 2011. Like the original, the cover here is also quiet, but it seems to be a different kind of quiet. This cover reflects the content a little bit more, and it portrays the sense of loss in a way that the flower and handful of words do not in the original. There’s been an addition of a blurb from Francisco X. Stork on the cover, which I think is a really nice name to have giving Pixley’s book some props — readers who dig the kind of quiet story Stork writes will likely find this one to be a good read. What I don’t like about the paperback, though, is the title font treatment. The color is right but I think that the font itself looks very young, casting this much more as a middle grade novel than as a young adult. Maybe it’s my screen resolution, but it looks as though there are small white lines aiming up toward the font, too, which only furthers the juvenile feeling. I also note that Pixley’s name is done in a thin, white font that is easy to miss with the blue background.

I think the hardcover of this book is much stronger, but I wouldn’t be surprised if the paperback has more appeal to a wider range of readers.

Anna Collomore’s psychological thriller The Ruining came out earlier this year with the cover on the left. It’s an eye-catching one: there’s the girl half underwater with the massive mansion in the back. It’s a neat contrast and a nice metaphor. I feel like this is quite a memorable cover because it’s so different. There’s not a blurb nor is there a tag line on the original cover. The title and the author’s name are done in pretty standard fonts that don’t detract from the greater image.

The paperback edition of Collomore’s The Ruining will be available February 6, 2014. And it’s completely different than the original cover: there’s a closeup of a girl who looks way, way older than a teenager. She’s clearly upset about something, and she looks slightly off. It’s a memorable facial expression, for sure. There’s a girl in the background, too, though little could be said about her expression nor of her body language because she’s so far back. Is she turning a light switch on or off? Is she just holding the wall to stay standing up? I like the pop of yellow and white that the wall brings to the cover, and I think that the pink used for the author’s name stands out nicely, too. But the title itself seems to get lost in this image in a way that doesn’t make the image stand out. It’s just easy to overlook. There’s a pull quote from a Kirkus review, too: “gripping stuff.” I don’t know how much that tells anyone anything about the book, nor do I think it helps give the cover something new or different, either.

It feels like this cover isn’t aimed at teen readers. It looks like the kind of cover you’d find in the adult section, and it’s really possible the target is adult readers here. If the girl looked younger, perhaps I’d feel differently. But she doesn’t look like she’s a teen. She also looks heavily photoshopped (unless that’s just my computer’s screen resolution). Either way, the new paperback doesn’t stand out to me and it’s easily forgettable in a way that the hardcover isn’t. You wouldn’t know this is a psychological thriller.

Hardcover wins this one, hands down.

So of the covers above, what do you think? Which ones are winners and which ones could have stuck to the original and been better?

Links of Note: Thanksgiving Edition

|

via Book Riot’s 7 DIY Bookish Thanksgiving Decor
Usually we post Links of Note every other Saturday or so, but Kimberly and I are both taking a long holiday weekend and thought instead of not posting at all today or tomorrow, a link round up would be worth saving for now. That way there’s a long weekend’s worth of reading around the bookish web to savor. 
If we’ve missed something or should know about other recent good reading, let us know in the comments. 
  • The Nation has a piece about the State of Literature. More specifically, it talks about reviews, about book covers, marketing, and how all of those things are impacted (or not) by gender and preconceptions of what a book is or is not.  There’s some really interesting talk in there about “new adult,” as well, and the primary focus is about readership, which is what made it stand out to me.  

  • Here’s a fun one: The University of Illinois has archived online a bunch of the American Library Association’s old promotional reading posters. Enjoy. 

  • In Australia, a look at gender bias in children’s literature. I am so glad this conversation is happening, continues to happen, and it keeps popping up all over the place in different variations. 
Over at Book Riot, I’ve written a few pieces in the last couple of weeks: 
For those of you in the states celebrating the holiday this weekend, enjoy. For those of you who aren’t, enjoy the rest of your work week and weekend, and we’ll catch you all on Monday. 

The 100 by Kass Morgan

|

This book has gotten a bad rap on Goodreads, and I don’t think it’s deserved. The premise is killer. The writing is competent and flows nicely. The plot is fast and the characters are full of secrets. I really liked it – it’s sci fi candy and I gobbled it right up.

The 100 refers to a group of people – juvenile delinquents who have been sent to re-colonize an irradiated Earth. Humanity has been living on space stations for generations, ever since the Earth became uninhabitable. But their resources are dwindling, and the adult scientists need to know if Earth is truly ready for habitation again. The teens will be the test subjects.

“Juvenile delinquent” in this future world is a fuzzy term. Crime is punished very severely, and almost anything is a crime. Adults who commit crimes are usually executed immediately. Minors are kept in “Confinement” until they turn 18, and are then given a retrial. Except the retrials are mostly shams and the teens are usually then executed as well. So for the teens who know what’s likely coming, they look at the trip to Earth as a reprieve from death.

We get the story from four different third-person perspectives – two girls, two boys. They range in age from 17 to 20 (or thereabouts). They’re Confined and/or sent to Earth for various reasons, though one of our POVs actually stays behind on one of the space stations, giving us more insight into that environment and the Earth experiment from the adults’ perspective. Each of the characters has a secret (some have more than one); some secrets are easier to guess than others. The secrets are revealed in flashbacks, which I normally loathe, but they work well here – they’re short and full of action, just like the present-day sections.

What irritates a lot of the reviewers is something that happens very near the end. We realize something one of the main characters did, and it’s monumentally stupid. Not just “I can’t believe I did that, that was so stupid” stupid. I mean that it really strains credulity. Breaks it, even. It certainly broke a lot of other readers. It didn’t ruin it for me, though. I gave it a bit of a side-eye, sure. But I figured I was so far down the rabbit hole of believability, this one further step wasn’t going to ruin my enjoyment. And it’s followed very closely by another revelation that I found quite believable and sets the book up nicely for a sequel, which I will certainly be reading.

So, world-building. There’s not much of it. If you want a lot of world-building that’s creative and makes sense and actually uses science that maybe, possibly could exist in the future, look elsewhere. This is not your book. If you have a very, very healthy ability to suspend your disbelief and prefer to digest your sci-fi at a breakneck pace, you might consider giving this a shot.

This is an Alloy (book packager) title, and it feels like it. It bears a lot in common with a few other packaged titles I’ve read – short chapters, multiple characters (often multiple POVs), lots of secrets that are teased out over time, an emphasis on plot, a concept that can be described in a snappy sentence or two. What surprised me is that the author essentially acknowledges that it’s a packaged title in the Acknowledgments (see what I did there?), at least in the arc version. She credits the idea for the story to someone else in the first sentence, and thanks several people, mentioning Alloy specifically, later on. As someone who looks for these sorts of things, this obviously caught my eye. I wonder how many teens 1. read the Acknowledgments, and 2. would care one way or another.

The CW has picked up this as a midseason premiere and I’m excited to have a look. I hope it’s as fun as the book.

Review copy picked up at Kidlitcon.

Ink Is Thicker Than Water by Amy Spalding

|

Kellie Brooks thinks she knows herself, thinks she knows her best friends, and thinks she knows her family. But everything she thinks she knows begins to fall apart when her adopted sister Sara turns 18 and has the chance to meet her birth mother. And everything changes again when Kellie joins the school newspaper and realizes Adalaide, the girl she’d always thought was a dork, is actually not that dorky after all. And it changes further when her best friend Kaitlyn begins to drift away.

And Oliver, the brother of her sister’s boyfriend Dexter, only complicates Kellie’s life even further. After their awkward encounter last May, wherein he tried to get Kellie to have sex and she backed out, she thought his presence in her life was gone forever. But now it seems like he’s interested again.

Amy Spalding’s Ink Is Thicker Than Water is an excellent example of a true YA novel. It’s coming-of-age, but it’s coming-of-age through a perspective that’s quite minute and not world-shattering. What Kellie is going through and experiencing is entirely within the contours of her own life and her own experiences. She’s navigating a tricky situation in her family life, a change in what she thought were forever friendships, and an opportunity to pursue a romance with a boy who she thought would never again be a part of her life. Despite the fact none of the things that happen impact the greater world, they each play a huge part in impacting Kellie’s own world. And each of the things she encounters leads to her coming to better understand her role in her own life and in the lives of those around her — as well as her role in the greater world.

Family is the biggest aspect of this story, and Spalding isn’t afraid to look at a very complicated family dynamic that isn’t interesting because of its complexity and challenges, but rather, is interesting because it does work. Sara is Kellie’s older sister, but she’s adopted. Kellie’s mother and father were told the chances of them ever conceiving a child naturally were slim to none, and they chose to adopt Sara to start their family. It was no time before they conceived Kellie without a problem — though in no way are Sara and Kellie at odds with their places within the family. In fact, they’re as close as two sisters can be.

But the family gets more challenging, as Kellie and Sara’s parents are also divorced. Mom has remarried, and after a significant life reevaluation in the past, she also left her job as a paralegal and started working at The Family Ink — a tattoo shop — with her new husband. Mom and her new husband have a child together, a boy named Finn, who both girls adore and take turns taking care of. Kellie and Sara’s dad lives nearby, and though he doesn’t admit to being in a relationship with anyone else, he does have a girlfriend. Both girls spend time with dad, even though they live with mom. Despite being divorced, mom and dad get along, and both have their girls best interests at heart. So when Sara chooses to meet her biological mother, it’s not a surprise that both mom and dad support her decision to get to know her better, even if it does hurt them. But, of course, it’s a hurt that’s less about feeling abandoned and more a hurt of knowing their daughter’s growing up and learning how to make life choices and relationships for herself and her best interests.

Which is where this story really veers into something memorable. For Kellie, Sara’s decision to spend more time with her biological mother feels at times like a personal insult. Kellie’s not selfish, but she IS a teenager: Sara’s lack of time being spent with her feels like it’s done with the intent to make Kellie jealous and hurt, even though it has absolutely nothing to do with Kellie. It has to do entirely with Sara coming to learn how to be herself. This is something that Kellie eventually will figure out, as she, too, learns how to navigate these family relationships and the shifting that they can go through.

Kellie’s friendship and subsequent change in connection with Kaitlyn is really believable and it’s really honest. As Kellie begins to spend more time with the newspaper and honing her skills as a humor columnist (and yes, some of those columns are in the book to read), she’s spending more time with those who share those interests with her. Kaitlyn is doing precisely the same thing, though her interests aren’t in the newspaper or in writing. As a result, the girls begin drifting apart, even though it’s not in a nasty or mean way. Kellie takes it as an affront, though, as Kaitlyn spends more time with her new friends, and as readers, we see the loneliness this leaves her. She doesn’t want to hate Kaitlyn and she doesn’t want to be mad at her, but she can’t help feeling sad and lost as both Kaitlyn and herself throw themselves into new experiences and one of the consequences is their friendship changes. It doesn’t end. It just changes.

Change, if it hasn’t been obvious, is a key theme in Ink Is Thicker Than Water, and it might be argued that it’s through her relationship with Oliver that Kellie figures out change doesn’t need to be scary. Back in May, Oliver and Kellie were having a good time together and almost had sex — but she didn’t want it to happen and it didn’t. She wasn’t ready. Since then, Kellie worried that she and Oliver never had another shot, so when he pursued her again, she didn’t believe it. She didn’t believe someone could want to get to know her after she’d let them down before. But the truth was, Oliver appreciated that aspect of her.

From the outside, their relationship look great: Oliver loves to be in touch with Kellie, he wants to make things “Facebook official” quickly, and he’s always willing to be around for her, even if sex is something she’s not ready to enter the equation (and he’s incredibly respectful of this). The thing is, Oliver is a little bit . . . clingy. Desperate, even. And as much as Kellie loves the attention and loves the ability to reach him any time she wants to and needs to, she’s also a little wary of how much he wants to ensure their solidarity as a couple. Of course, there’s a reason for his actions, and Kellie will discover what it is when she’s out with his brother Dexter. But more than discover what it is causing Oliver to act as he does with her, Kellie will realize that she’s not too different from him, but in her relationship with her sister. It’s this ah ha moment when Kellie not only appreciates Oliver even more, but it’s in this moment when Kellie comes to understand that people can and do change and that change doesn’t have to be scary.

Change can be a good thing.

One of the most enjoyable parts of this story for me has to do with Kellie’s relationship with sex and virginity. As noted, she almost had sex with Oliver upon meeting him for the first time months ago, but she backed out, saying she wasn’t ready for it. So when he returns to her later, she’s worried that that choice will forever be the reason he would not be the reason he’d want to be in a relationship with her. If she hurt him once, the potential to do it again and again exists. But Oliver doesn’t believe that. When their relationship develops, sex remains in the back of Kellie’s mind regularly: she’s not ready for it. But rather than keep that voice at bay, she’s open and honest about it with not just herself, but with Oliver as well. At times it comes out awkwardly, but it’s that awkwardness that’s honest and real. It’s a tricky topic, and Spalding handles it in a way that’s funny and incredibly authentic. Kellie does eventually decide she’s ready, and in the process, she takes steps to protect herself and Oliver in a very non-preachy, non-message-y manner. Once the two of them do engage in sex, Kellie’s reactions and desires are true to her coming to understand herself, coming to understand relationships and what and how physicality plays in, and more than that, Kellie discovers that she as a person has autonomy. She can do what it is she wants to do in whatever manner she wants to do it, as long as no one gets hurt in the process. Even though she thinks sex is the scary part, she learns after sex that the really scary part is owning that freedom and the responsibility that comes with it.

Ink Is Thicker Than Water is equal parts funny as it is heartening. Kellie’s voice is strong and memorable, and it is authentically teenage. There’s no doubt this is a 16-year-old character who is discovering how tough and how exciting it is to be a 16-year-old. Things are perfectly imperfect, and it’s up to her to make the decisions of what to pursue and what needs to be let go.

While the ending feels a little neatly wrapped up, it fits the story and it fits the characters. I enjoyed how Spalding worked the tattoo shop into the storyline, and I felt like she did a great job making the mother’s storyline work for Kellie — we know mom learned too late what it was like to pursue her passion, and now she gets to be not just an example, but she gets to be one of Kellie (and Sara’s!) biggest advocates. It’s refreshing to see such a dynamic, supportive family in YA fiction and moreso to see it within the context of change and challenge. This isn’t a textbook family and it never could be. But because they love and support one another through thick and thin, they make things work. Likewise, Spalding’s knack for capturing friendship and relationships is noteworthy.

Readers who loved The Reece Malcolm List will find as much — if not more — to enjoy in Ink Is Thicker Than Water. Without doubt, this is the kind of book that will resonate with readers who dig contemporary realistic fiction, particularly in the vein of Sara Zarr and Siobhan Vivian. Kellie is easily one of my favorite protagonists this year because she’s imperfect and real in her imperfections. Her less-desirable qualities aren’t insurmountable, but they’re also not masked or made pretty. They’re just a part of who she is, and as she works towards an understanding of who she is, she doesn’t reject those things. She accepts them.

Ink Is Thicker Than Water will be available next Tuesday, December 3 from Entangled. Review copy received from the author.