Over on Book Riot this week…
The second quarter of 2020 ended yesterday. I read a total of 23 books in the past three months, bringing my total for the year to 41 (I accidentally left two titles off my First Quarter list – oops). I set a goal to read 100 books every year, and while my reading has picked up slightly due to the pandemic, it hasn’t really taken off like I thought it might.
A big portion of my reading this quarter has been occupied with a third re-read of the Amelia Peabody mystery series by Elizabeth Peters (which I have always read on audio, never in print). It’s been five years since I last read it, and I’m experiencing it pretty differently this time. Aside from this favorite series, my reading this quarter consisted of a few YA mysteries, a few adult thrillers, a few graphic novels, and one popular science book.
I went through a period early in the quarter when I wanted to read some recent popular adult fiction, preferably mysteries, and this was available on audio from the library. It’s about a young woman who goes to the town where her aunt disappeared decades ago in order to solve the mystery of her disappearance. It’s a solid mystery, though there are some supernatural elements, which is not usually my cup of tea for a mystery. I tend to prefer mysteries that rely only on what’s real for all the answers.
This is not my normal fare at all, but I enjoyed it a lot. I had actually been searching for another mystery, similar to The Sun Down Motel, and came across this one marked as such. While there is a mystery to it, I wouldn’t categorize it as a traditional whodunnit. It’s more like what is traditionally called literary “women’s fiction,” and it uses the split time period trope that I often encounter in that type of story.
Half of the story is told from the point of view of Morgan in the present day, a talented artist who has been granted early release from prison (for a crime she maintains she did not commit) in order to restore an old mural painted in 1940 for a post office in North Carolina. The other half is told from the point of view of the artist, Anna Dale, in 1940. The central plot revolves around what happened to Anna, who disappeared without quite finishing the mural. As Morgan restores the painting, she grows closer to uncovering the town’s secrets. I enjoyed reading about North Carolina in both time periods; it’s where I went to college and it’s fun to recognize some of the landmarks and the culture. Chamberlain is also just a talented writer who breathes life into both of her protagonists, and she surrounds these sympathetic characters with an interesting, well-paced story.
This is a modern take on Rebecca, which I’ve actually never read. I enjoyed it nonetheless, though I do feel I would have gotten more out of it had I been able to compare it to the inspiration. Still, it’s a solid YA mystery with a creepy setting, a smart protagonist, and several surprises.
I enjoyed this YA fantasy about a flooded world and the island that has the ability to bring loved ones back to life – but only for 24 hours – despite its completely ludicrous plot. Read my full review here.
I enjoyed Big Lies in a Small Town so much that I sought out others by Chamberlain. This one is about a woman named Riley who, after her father dies, begins to investigate what really happened when her sister Lisa died by suicide 20 years ago. It’s less of a mystery than Big Lies in a Small Town, though it has its share of surprises. Chamberlain excels at creating living, breathing characters who make bad (but believable) choices, and I appreciate that her endings – at least of the books I’ve read so far – provide closure and catharsis.
Linka’s book is a sort-of mystery, sort-of coming of age story about Sabine, a freshman at the prestigious CALINVA art school in California. On full merit-based scholarship after being homeless for a time (her mother’s employer kicked Sabine out of her home where they had been living after her mother died), Sabine is terrified that she’ll be kicked out if she doesn’t do enough to impress Colin Krell, the tyrannical teacher who seems to have it out for her. His one bit of good advice is to study a master’s painting by “translating” (i.e. copying) it. When the opportunity arises for Sabine to translate Krell’s current masterpiece – without him knowing, of course – she takes it. But everything is not as it seems. While the mystery concerning Krell’s painting and Sabine’s translation of it is less than surprising, Sabine’s journey is engaging, and the lack of a perfectly happy ending almost made my heart break for her. Read my full review here.
While I enjoyed this book the least of Chamberlain’s books, it’s the one that I’ve thought the most about since finishing it. This one is fully historical, with the entirety of the book’s events (except for small bits at the beginning and end) taking place in rural Grace County, North Carolina in the 1960s. It splits points of view between Jane, a young social worker, and Ivy, the teenager whose family is assigned to Jane. The main focus of the story is on North Carolina’s eugenics program, which was broader (operating outside of institutions) and longer-lasting (well into the 60s) than any other state’s program. Jane is a naive, inexperienced social worker fresh out of college (where there really isn’t a program for women in social work at this time), and when her supervisor is injured, she’s given a full caseload, which includes Ivy’s poverty-stricken family. Jane finds herself pressured by the other social workers to sterilize Ivy, whose older sister has already been sterilized. Lying about the procedure – telling the patient they’re merely getting their appendix removed, for example, as Ivy’s sister was told – is normal. Fourteen year old Ivy, meanwhile, whose parents are both dead and whose family is employed by a landowner to work his farm, tries to care for her sister (who is mentally disabled), her sister’s baby, and her grandmother. The resources provided by the social workers are essential to their lives.
What I found most riveting were the details about the eugenics program itself, of which I knew very little (mainly just that the United States had them). Reasons for sterilization included mental disability, mental illness, and epilepsy, though in reality generational poverty was often the real reason. Characters often tell Jane that such people deserve to be sterilized, even without their knowledge, because they’re drains on the public. Sometimes sterilization was welcomed, though, as is the case with a supporting character who did not have the ability to keep herself from becoming pregnant but did not want any more children. The program was fascinating – and horrible – to read about. The story, unfortunately, was predictable, so I found it often frustrating to read (why can’t the characters see where this is going like I can?). You, too, could likely sketch out what happens to Ivy and what Jane eventually does about it. Still, it was a worthwhile read and one I’ve recommended to others.
I found Wright’s novel about a flu pandemic – which eerily mimics much of what we’re experiencing now – riveting, and I talked about it endlessly with friends and family, but I can’t say it was actually a good book. Read my full review here.
The graphic novels I’ve read this year haven’t really wowed me. This YA one was cute enough, about a conjoined twin whose sister convinces her to have experimental surgery to separate them and dies. From then on, the surviving twin sees her sister as a ghost. The setting is a turn of the century sideshow, where Isabel and her sister Jane were employed. Now that Jane is dead, Isabel must find a new kind of life. I enjoyed the story, but didn’t find it that special.
This is another cute graphic novel – for middle grade readers this time – about a group of kids who join the Pathfinders Society and set out to find a treasure. It’s almost too fast-paced, with not much time given to character development or even development of the clues, but kids who enjoy treasure hunts will likely enjoy this.
Bruce Wayne, 16, is kicked out of boarding school and returns to Gotham City. There he finds himself caught up in a kidnapping, and future friends/nemeses Selina Kyle and Jack Napier are involved. The plot was a bit more convoluted than I expected and at times hard to follow, but mostly I just didn’t care enough about the characters. Perhaps this is better for more die-hard Batman fans than me.
I enjoyed this exciting high fantasy, full of magic, competition, betrayal, and some unique world-building, but took issue with its central premise of kindness as king. Read my full review here.
These are books 2 and 3 of a self-published humor series by an author who lives here in Austin. The premise is that in small-town present-day Texas, God begets a daughter named Jessica. The series follows her from a small child into adulthood, and books 2 and 3 focus on her life as a teenager in high school (though the whole series is geared toward adults, not kids or teens). The books are very funny: God will often pop into Jessica’s head with a funny revelation (“Don’t tell anyone, but I wasn’t really paying attention when I created Australia”), or to clarify a translation error in the Bible (“It was supposed to be Powerful and all that, not All-Powerful), and when he wants to use strong language, he says “Oh Me!” In book 2, Jessica is tasked with finding her own special miracle that she can perform, and it turns out to be as football Kicker (naturally). Taylor also skewers Southern/Texan evangelicalism pretty handily; for those of us who grew up with or around evangelical Christian Texans, much of the observations ring very, very true. The first book is by far the funniest (so far), but there are 6 in the series and I look forward to reading them all.
Ben Goldacre is a British physician and science writer who wrote a column called Bad Science in The Guardian from 2003-2011. Published in 2008, his book Bad Science covers many of the topics he wrote about for the paper, all focusing on bad medical science in some fashion. He discusses homeopathy, skewers modern “nutritionists,” teaches readers how to determine if a study is a good one or a bad one, and covers the anti-vaccination scare as it occurred in the UK (lucky us, the discredited former doctor who started it all now lives in Austin). He also delves deeply into the placebo effect, which was the most fascinating chapter for me and which I regaled my friends with at a recent picnic for many minutes. (Did you know that the placebo effect works better with two pills than one, and even better with an injection than a pill?) This is exactly the kind of nonfiction I love reading.
I first listened to these (and I’ve always read them that way, as audiobooks) as a kid, when my family would check out kid-friendly audiobooks (both for kids and for adults) for our long road trips during the summer. I was fascinated by the concept of Egyptology as a kid, and I loved Amelia’s sassy narration, the love between her and her husband Emerson, and especially the intrigue of their teenage children and wards (we started listening in the middle, when Ramses was 16).
I listened to them properly, this time from the beginning, in grad school, and then again five years ago. I began to pick up on more of Amelia’s faults during these re-reads (she’s wrong quite frequently!). Of course, these faults are apparent and part of the fun for mature adult readers, but they went completely over my head as a kid. But it’s only this third reading where I’ve really noticed the glaring faults in the books themselves. While Amelia values and respects the Egyptians as a people, including their culture and religion (she is cognizant of the fact that the British don’t treat their women any better, for example), imperialist ways of thinking – British superiority, in general – always seeps through. Amelia is not as open or fair-minded as she thinks, though she certainly outpaces many of her peers. In fact, the whole concept of the books is a problem (British colonizers digging up Egyptians’ ancestors and regulating what Egyptians can and cannot do with their own country and possessions), and this fact goes completely unrecognized and unmentioned.
Aside from these glaring issues, I also noticed the rather alarming amount of fatphobia that Amelia spews. It’s lessened somewhat in later volumes, but for the most part, fat characters are portrayed as ridiculous, stupid, lazy, and sometimes villainous. Emerson, too, is not as charming as he once was to me, with all of his shouting and half-insults, then maintaining he is a calm, reserved person (and again, the disconnect between what he thinks about himself and what he is is part of the humor, but it’s just not as funny this time around). I’ve even noticed some flaws in the narration, performed wonderfully by Barbara Rosenblat, whose English accent was flawless to me as a child but whose American roots are apparent to me now.
I’m still enjoying the books quite a lot, and I intend to finish the series (I’ve always stopped somewhere in the middle before this for one reason or another), but my nostalgic love for them has been tempered by these realizations.
The first reviews for my next anthology Body Talk: 37 Voices Explore Our Radical Anatomy have been coming in, and they’re incredible.
Here’s what Kirkus says:
Although we often take them for granted, our bodies—no matter what they look like, how we feel about them, or how others feel about them—are inherently political.
This anthology edited by Jensen contains a series of personal essays describing experiences that defined the authors’ relationships with their bodies. Avid young adult readers will recognize popular authors like I.W. Gregorio, who, in her capacity as a urologist, answers frequently asked questions about penises; Anna-Marie McLemore, who writes about struggling to get a diagnosis for their severe dysmenorrhea; Eric Smith, who discusses puberty and facial hair; and Alex Gino and Julie Murphy, who reflect on their evolving relationships with fatness. The book also includes narratives from celebrities like gold-medal–winning gymnast Aly Raisman, model Tyra Banks, musician and free-bleeding marathon runner Kiran/Madame Gandhi, and trans rights activist Gavin Grimm. Each author fully and impressively engages with their intersecting identities and the ways in which these intersections affect the way their bodies are treated by society. Taken together with short FAQ sections that address everything from the difference between body positivity and fat acceptance to respectful terms to use when discussing disability, the anthology is a comprehensive, compulsively readable guide to growing into our bodies in a politically fraught world.
A thoughtful, well-rounded anthology featuring diverse voices speaking out on essential topics.
And School Library Journal is giving Body Talk a beautiful starred review:
Gr 7 Up–Jensen has collected personal narratives for a remarkable anthology that tackles various aspects of anatomy. Authors, athletes, celebrities, and other public figures share their experiences of negative self-image and how they came to terms with these feelings. Topics include visible “issues” (being overweight, having noticeable chin hairs, having scoliosis) and invisible ones (dealing with partial blindness, being Deaf, or having Crohn’s disease). These individuals are not afraid to share what they have gone through and how they achieved self-acceptance. As with her previous anthologies, Jensen expertly organizes these stories into chapters on a common theme. The experiences are relayed with equal parts honesty and knowledge. Throughout the book, readers can find “Body Talk FAQs” that fit the section in which they are located. The further reading guide contains nonfiction titles and fictional works where characters contend with those topics. Teens may not find a touchstone in every story but are likely to have experienced insecurity about one or more of the subjects. VERDICT A must-have anthology collection on an evergreen topic.
Body Talk hits shelves on August 18, and I’m really stoked for this book to be out there. It’s timely and timeless, and I think y’all will be super excited to see the VIRTUAL events lined up to go along with its release. Local pals: we’re working on an in-person event at my local indie as well, with details to come (and, of course, dependent upon how covid-19 looks by then).
But first, let’s talk about the sweet preorder incentives I’ve got set up!
Every preorder from a US resident or someone with a US address will be able to score a bookmark, as pictured above. The front reads “Your body is radical,” and the back features all three of my anthologies.
In addition, there’s a sweet sticker to come, too — it’s the same design as the front of the bookmark, reading “Your body is radical.” Order between now and August 18 and you’ll get these goods from me.
I want to sweeten the pot, of course, so there are a couple additional incentives.
If you order Body Talk from an indie bookstore, you’ll be entered to win a $25 gift card to a bookstore of your choice. Doesn’t matter what indie. Bookshop.org is fine, too. Just show me proof via the form below, and you’ll be automatically entered.
If you order Body Talk from my indie, a couple other bonuses: I’ll sign it for you, AND you’ll be entered to win a $50 gift card to the bookstore of your choice. You’ll also be entered for the $25 gift card. In other words, order from Read Between The Lynes (linked to my book!), and you’ll be entered for both a $50 gift card AND the $25 gift card, as well as get the book signed by me and get your bookmark and sticker. Sweet deal, eh? If you want me to personalize the book, leave a note in the comment field when you check out. Otherwise, I’ll just sign it with my fancy name.
Non-US ordering folks: I want to thank you, too. This is the tricky bit, though. Currently, Book Depository does not have a gift card option, and since Book Depository ships to the most non-US countries, I want to work through them. So, if you’re non-US, order the book and show me proof of purchase in the form below, and you’ll be entered to win a new book from the Depository equal or lesser than $25 US dollars. You’ll let me know what it is if you win, and I’ll send it your way.
Sound good?
I’ve made the record keeping as easy as possible.
Click this link to upload your proof of purchase — a receipt, a photo of a receipt, etc — and click the appropriate answers. That’s all! If you have trouble with uploading the proof, leave a comment here and I’ll connect with you another way.
More questions might come up, of course, so always feel free to ask here, via Twitter, or via Instagram. And most of all, thank you for your support. Right now is the hardest time to be an author and promoting a book that is indeed relevant and timely. It doesn’t feel good to try to capitalize on the pandemic relating to disease nor the one related to racism. But it’s a book I believe in deeply, and the voices of color in particular in this book are ones I want to keep highlighting and trumpeting because they’re vital reminders of what it is to live and operate in a body in today’s culture.
And if you haven’t yet seen it, here’s the official description of Body Talk:
It’s time to bare it all about bodies!
We all experience the world in a body, but we don’t usually take the time to explore what it really means to have and live within one. Just as every person has a unique personality, every person has a unique body, and every body tells its own story.
In Body Talk, thirty-seven writers, models, actors, musicians, and artists share essays, lists, comics, and illustrations—about everything from size and shape to scoliosis, from eating disorders to cancer, from sexuality and gender identity to the use of makeup as armor. Together, they contribute a broad variety of perspectives on what it’s like to live in their particular bodies—and how their bodies have helped to inform who they are and how they move through the world.
Come on in, turn the pages, and join the celebration of our diverse, miraculous, beautiful bodies!
Over on Book Riot this week…
This week’s Hey YA podcast highlights YA books with incredible settings that almost feel like a character, as well as our summer TBRs.
If you’re reading this blog, you likely know what it’s like to get lost in a book: to read so deeply and intently that you lose track of time, forgetting to eat or go to sleep. The characters in the books listed here have an altogether different problem: they literally get lost in books. By choice or by chance, they open a book and travel inside its pages, becoming a part of the story – and perhaps changing it.
I was prompted to write this booklist by the announcement of Shannon Hale’s new book, Kind of a Big Deal, which features this trope. While it’s one I feel is pretty familiar to most readers, I struggled to find many middle grade or young adult books that focused on it. Perhaps the popularity of Inkheart in the early 2000s has misled me as to how widespread the trope is. I found plenty of books featuring characters from books visiting our world, but only four titles where someone in our world visits the book’s world (or, like Inkheart, where they can do both). Do you know of any others?
Beauty and the Beast: Lost in a Book by Jennifer DonnellySmart, bookish Belle, a captive in the Beast’s castle, has become accustomed to her new home and has befriended its inhabitants. When she comes upon Nevermore, an enchanted book unlike anything else she has seen in the castle, Belle finds herself pulled into its pages and transported to a world of glamour and intrigue. The adventures Belle has always imagined, the dreams she was forced to give up when she became a prisoner, seem within reach again.
The charming and mysterious characters Belle meets within the pages of Nevermore offer her glamorous conversation, a life of dazzling Parisian luxury, and even a reunion she never thought possible. Here Belle can have everything she has ever wished for. But what about her friends in the Beast’s castle? Can Belle trust her new companions inside the pages of Nevermore? Is Nevermore’s world even real? Belle must uncover the truth about the book, before she loses herself in it forever.
Inkheart by Cornelia Funke12 year-old Meggie lives with her father, Mortimer, a bookbinder. Mo never reads stories aloud to Meggie because he has a special gift: when he reads a book aloud, the characters come out of the book and into the real world.
One night, when Meggie was a small child, Mortimer was reading aloud from a book named Inkheart when an evil villain named Capricorn, his aide Basta, and a fire-eater named Dustfinger escape from the book and into their living room. At the same time, Mo’s wife Resa gets trapped within the book.
Twelve years later, Capricorn is on a hunt to find and destroy all copies of Inkheart and use Mo’s abilities to gain more power for himself in the real world. Meggie discovers her father’s secret and, along with the help of Dustfinger and Meggie’s eccentric aunt Elinor, fights to free her father and destroy Capricorn.
The Book Jumper by Mechthild GläserAmy Lennox doesn’t know quite what to expect when she and her mother pick up and leave Germany for Scotland, heading to her mother’s childhood home of Lennox House on the island of Stormsay.
Amy’s grandmother, Lady Mairead, insists that Amy must read while she resides at Lennox House—but not in the usual way. It turns out that Amy is a book jumper, able to leap into a story and interact with the world inside. As thrilling as Amy’s new power is, it also brings danger: someone is stealing from the books she visits, and that person may be after her life. Teaming up with fellow book jumper Will, Amy vows to get to the bottom of the thefts—at whatever cost.
Kind of a Big Deal by Shannon HaleFrom bestselling author Shannon Hale comes Kind of a Big Deal: a hilarious, deliciously readable YA novel that will suck you in—literally.
There’s nothing worse than peaking in high school. Nobody knows that better than Josie Pie.
She was kind of a big deal—she dropped out of high school to be a star! But the bigger you are, the harder you fall. And Josie fell. Hard. Ouch. Broadway dream: dead.
Meanwhile, her life keeps imploding. Best friend: distant. Boyfriend: busy. Mom: not playing with a full deck? Desperate to escape, Josie gets into reading.
Literally. She reads a book and suddenly she’s inside it. And with each book, she’s a different character: a post-apocalyptic heroine, the lead in a YA rom-com, a 17th century wench in a corset.
It’s alarming. But also . . . kind of amazing?
It’s the perfect way to live out her fantasies. Book after book, Josie the failed star finds a new way to shine. But the longer she stays in a story, the harder it becomes to escape.
Will Josie find a story so good that she just stays forever?