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So You Want To Read YA?: Round Two

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Last year, we ran a very fun, informative, and popular series here at STACKED called “So You Want to Read YA?” It arose out of a question that we receive often as librarians and YA readers: “Where do I start?” The series asked that very question to a variety of people in the kidlit world, ranging from teachers to librarians, to authors and bloggers, to editors and marketing folks.

Following the presentation about running a blog series at KidLitCon, I was asked if I would consider doing the series again but with a new set of guest bloggers. I thought about it for a long time, and I thought why not?

So it’s coming back!

Starting next Monday, March 4 and running through the last Monday in July, we’ll be featuring a guest post on the topic of where to start in YA fiction. The posts come from a range of people like before, including authors, editors, soon-to-be-published authors, bloggers, librarians, and teachers. I’m so excited about each and every one of them. Nearly all of the guest writers for this round of posts have never been featured here before on STACKED, so we’re excited to spotlight some new-to-us voices (and, in some cases, not so new-to-us voices who we’d never approached before).

If you haven’t read or caught up with last year’s posts, feel free to dive in here. Prepare to expand your to-read piles significantly.

A huge thank you goes out to each and every one of this round’s contributors, and a special thanks goes out to Nova Ren Suma, who not only encouraged revisiting the series at KidLitCon, but she offered some wonderful suggestions for contributors.

Links of Note, February 23, 2013

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Great infographic on which creatures are most detrimental to your health.
Credit beneath image.

This edition of the biweekly link round up has a little bit of everything: the serious, the less serious, and just some fun stuff that caught my eye. It’s packed with stuff, so grab your favorite beverage and take your time to enjoy!

  • Does social media sell books? Here’s an interesting piece from Gillian Flynn’s agent. As you probably know, Gone Girl has done pretty darn well and Flynn’s not really all that active on social media. Neither is Suzanne Collins, who has had no problem selling her books. I think there’s something particularly fascinating in the notion of the fact Flynn’s not doing the social media selling herself but that her books have garnered a ton of social media attention anyway. Likewise, maybe it’s worth noting that the authors cited as examples in this piece are ones who likely had huge publicity and marketing bucks behind their titles and they didn’t need to do a whole lot of the work themselves. 
  • It was really neat seeing my post included in this roundup of posts about introversion over at Library Journal/School Library Journal’s The Digital Shift. I also wanted to include this blog post written by Lahey herself about the sort of blowback she received after her piece went up. This topic continues to inspire blog posts everywhere I look (including a couple of interesting posts at Lifehacker — one which talks about how to use your introversion for your power and another ill-informed piece about how to “overcome” your introversion to succeed. I’m not linking them since you can find them easily enough if you want to).
  • A couple of weeks ago I linked to a post from Maggie Stiefvater about rape and the problems she had with it being used in the last number of books she’d read. I mentioned having some issues with how she presented this post. I was willing to overlook some of the points because she raised some worthwhile questions. Then she posted this piece about writing and the thinking writer (with applications to the thinking reader, too). Which, I have to say actually made me dislike the rape post even more. Why? Because of the implication that the writers who employed a rape scene didn’t think about the issues surrounding it. Again — we have no context in her post for this issue. We’re supposed to just accept it without knowing whether these rape scenes and the discussion of rape culture more broadly is supposed to be illuminating some real, honest issues going on in our world right now. I link to these posts I don’t agree with because I think they’re worth reading and because I think the points she raises are ones worth thinking about and having thoughts about, even if they aren’t in line with hers. 
  • Sort-of related to the piece above about Gillian Flynn and social media is this really thought-provoking piece about book discoverability. Is it even an issue? Do people care? Or is this something that marketing is concerned about but that the average reader (and non-reader) even care about? I agree with the notion that choosing what to read isn’t necessarily linear (maybe there is for some people, but from what I’ve heard, most people are mood readers). Best line in the piece is this one: “Nothing will ever replace building authentic, two-way relationships with customers and readers.” Same with librarians. That’s the game of reader’s advisory, isn’t it? 
  • Can you do something sweet for Bridget Zinn? If you’re a blogger or a librarian or a teacher or a reader….consider doing something for Zinn’s little book, Poison. Even if you can’t do something big, consider purchasing and reading a copy of her book when it comes out and then talk about it with other readers who would want to know about it. 
  • A worthwhile read from Victoria Schwab on the publication and development of fanfiction. She’s not against it — in fact she thinks it’s valuable in many ways — but she has some issues with the glorification of their origin stories. This actually gets me thinking a lot about that One Direction fanfiction which is based on real people, rather than an origin story. 
  • This is one of my favorite reader’s advisory posts in a while, and it’s something that doesn’t need to be limited to just this specific example. Heather, over at TLT, talks about using candy hearts to recommend books. Think of the possibilities to expand this — what about mood ring book recommendations? Or color book recommendations? Or sound-related book recommendations? Or recommendations based on favorite food? Or drinks? Or candy? Think beyond just the easy appeal factors. Reader’s advisory can be off the wall like this and in some ways, it makes it even more enjoyable. 
  • If you haven’t been reading YA Highway lately, make sure you go check out their series of interviews with black YA authors. So far, they’ve talked with Justina Ireland and Brandy Colbert.  

And then there was the time that the Canadian House of Commons talked about the zombie apocalypse:

Darkroom by Lila Quintero Weaver

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I was thrilled to be a round 2 judge in this year’s Cybils awards, helping select the winners of both the middle grade and young adult graphic novels. I had actually only read one of the finalists before the shortlists were announced, so I had a terrific crop of new reading to dig into. Among them were two memoirs of two different places and eras, and I enjoyed them both quite a lot, for different reasons: Little White Duck by Na Liu and Andres Vera Martinez (middle grade) and Darkroom by Lila Quintero Weaver (young adult). I intended to review them both here, but I discovered I had a lot to say about Darkroom, so I’ll discuss Little White Duck in a future post.
When Lila was five, her family moved from Buenos Aires, Argentina to Marion, Alabama. It was 1961, and the American South was heavy with Jim Crow, segregation, and the Civil Rights Movement. In that time, the dominant white group had not yet decided to marginalize people of Latin descent, who were not yet emigrating to the United States in the waves they do now. So the Quinteros were not reviled like their black neighbors, but nor were they quite accepted, either. This made Lila a bit of an in-betweener, neither black nor white, and therefore gave her a unique perspective on the events that unfolded in the 60s.
I normally avoid stories about race relations in the 60s. I’ve learned about Jim Crow and the Civil Rights movement since the moment I began attending school, but more than that, I just find it all incredibly depressing, mostly because I still see so many of the same awful attitudes reflected in my peers today (toward black people and other marginalized groups, too). (You should probably know that I live in the American South and have my entire life.)
Despite my predisposition to not enjoy these kinds of stories, though, I quite liked it. Lila describes how she, as a child and a teenager, reacted to what was going on around her: what she witnessed, what she heard about, what was hidden from her. Because of her unique vantage point, she learned at an early age what it meant to hold a prejudice, and she learned to fight against it. She also weaves in her own experience as a Latina and the prejudices people had about her family. She was constantly embarrassed by her parents’ use of Spanish in public, for instance, and she yearned to look more like the white ideal espoused by so many of her classmates. It’s not a story entirely about race and culture, either: Lila also tells us about her everyday life, her parents’ vocations and values, her friends, and so on. While this could have been a dry treatise on the evils of Jim Crow, instead it’s a deeply personal story – of both Lila and our country.
The black and white illustrations are competent, though not breathtaking. She uses the black and white medium to great effect, particularly shadows. She also varies the composition of the pages, creating some with strict panels, some with full-page illustrations, and some that are a mixture of the two. One particularly memorable spread features a drawing of a history textbook Lila’s class used, with the actual text reproduced. (This particular textbook reminded me strongly of some of the textbooks purportedly being currently used in some Louisiana schools, where slaves were happy and well-treated and the KKK was an upstanding community organization.)
While it’s very well-done, I think the appeal is a bit limited. The perspective is clearly that of an adult reflecting on childhood. It’s a lovely, poetic reflection, though, with a fantastic parallel beginning and end. For readers interested in graphic memoirs, this is a good selection, and it’s particularly impressive considering it was a school assignment for Weaver, and her first published effort.

Finished copy checked out from my local library.

When You’ve Gotta Go . . .

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I’ve hesitated to write this post because it’s weird. And because I kept debating the appropriate subject line for it because it’s so weird.

There’s an odd trend I’ve noticed recently in my reading. I mean odd in that, over the course of the last two months, I’ve read this particular incident six separate times, and it’s something that, prior to this series of incidents, I don’t know I remember reading in the past. Or if I did it was so isolated it never made me pay attention. It’s something I don’t know I want to be paying attention to, but now that I’ve noticed it, I can’t stop noticing it. 

I guess you can call it the new vomit.

What is this trend, you ask? Well….it’s when a character pees him or herself. 

In all of the situations I’ve read this scene in — and let me note that two of the books below have this happen twice to their characters in the course of the story — none of the incidents have been related to laughing so hard that holding one’s bladder becomes impossible. No. In every instance, it has been either trauma-related or, in the case of one instance, it was related to a health issue. 

Since I’ve been asked about this and asked to name names about what books have done this, I’ve decided it was time to showcase this bizarre little trend. I’m going to post the covers of the books, the descriptions from WorldCat, and yes, I will highlight when said instances occur in the book to give it some context. It’s possible there could be a little spoiling that happens. I’ve included links to reviews, where relevant, and I think the ones I haven’t yet reviewed are likely sitting in the queue for future review. 

But I’ll be leaving the incontinence out of those reviews since I’m covering it well enough here.

Empty by KM Walton: Deeply depressed after her father cheated on and divorced her mother, seventeen-year-old Adele has gained over seventy pounds and is being bullied and abused at school–to the point of being raped and accused of being the aggressor. Reviewed here. 

When it happens: Del takes Vicodin before a talent show. It loosens her up but it really screws with her brain chemistry. When she’s walking back to her apartment after the disaster of a show, she loses her bladder. Lucky for her, her pants have enough fabric to them to soak up the mess (since they’re pants for a big girl). 

All You Never Wanted by Adele Griffin: Wealthy teen Thea Parott’s jealousy of her older, prettier, more popular sister Alex prompts a series of self-destructive acts that threaten their seemingly-idyllic lives. Reviewed here. 

When it happens: This is actually a significant plot point in the story. When Alex is at her internship — the one she got through her step-father’s connections — she’s so nervous and worried that she pees herself. It’s horrific and embarrassing and a real sign of shame for Alex. 

The Whole Stupid Way We Are by N. Griffin: During a cold winter in Maine, fifteen-year-old Dinah sets off a heart-wrenching chain of events when she tries to help best friend and fellow misfit Skint deal with problems at home, including a father who is suffering from early onset dementia.

When it happens: This might be cheating a little bit, but because my radar has been up on this one, I’m including it. Skint’s father has early onset dementia, and in one of the scenes, his mother cannot handle being his father’s caretaker any longer. She makes a scene, and during it, she shouts about how she can no longer handle him peeing himself. 

Scowler by Daniel Kraus: In the midst of a 1981 meteor shower in Iowa, a homicidal maniac escapes from prison and returns to the farm where his nineteen-year-old son, Ry, must summon three childhood toys–Mr. Furrington, Jesus Christ, and Scowler–to protect himself, his eleven-year-old sister, Sarah, and their mother. This book comes out next month.

When it happens: This book gives readers two horrifying scenes of self-urination. Since both are huge plot spoilers, I’m going to talk around them as much as possible. The first happens in one of the grisliest scenes I’ve ever read before, and it involves someone being forced to pee themselves because they’ve been restrained in such a way they have no choice. This particular scene involves two characters, and it’s the second character who remarks upon the first’s incident. In the second instance of this, it’s that second character who finds himself being the victim of his own incontinence. That instance is out of fear and trauma and horror. And I give Kraus some props for making that almost equally as horrifying to read about as the first instance. 

Charm & Strange by Stephanie Kuehn (description via Goodreads): Andrew Winston Winters is at war with himself. He’s part Win, the lonely teenager exiled to a remote Vermont boarding school in the wake of a family tragedy. The guy who shuts all his classmates out, no matter the cost. But he’s also part Drew, the angry young boy with violent impulses that control him. The boy who spent a fateful summer with his brother and teenage cousins, only to endure a family secret so painful it led three children to do the unthinkable. Over the course of one night, while stuck at a party deep in the New England woods, Andrew battles the pain of his past and the isolation of his present. Before the sun rises, he’ll either surrender his sanity to the wild thoughts inside his mind or learn that surviving can mean more than not dying. This book comes out in June.

When it happens: It’s very near the beginning of the story. Win is the victim of bullying at school, and it involved him accidentally peeing all over himself. It doesn’t come in the present, but the story opens in the immediate after — and then he’s reminded of the incident by someone he runs into. 

Bruised by Sarah Skilton: When she freezes during a hold-up at the local diner, sixteen-year-old Imogen, a black belt in Tae Kwan Do, has to rebuild her life, including her relationship with her family and with the boy who was with her during the shoot-out. This book comes out next month. 

When it happens: This is another two-for-one deal. In both instances, the main character pees herself out of fear and trauma. The story focuses on a girl dealing with PTSD, and her incidents come when the traumatic event first unfolds, and then it happens again much later in the story when she’s reliving/experiencing memories of it. 

This is my small list of books where a character — usually a big player in the story — pees him or herself. None of these are happy incidents. I mean. Not that they would be, but they aren’t out of laughter. 

Can you think of other recent titles where this has happened? All of the books above have published in the last few months or will be publishing soon. I think it’s such a bizarre and odd little trend. It really does remind me a bit of the stress/fear vomit that seems to make its way into many YA titles. 

(Also, it was very hard to write a post and not make jokes. I mean, rather than piss on others, YA characters are just pissing on themselves instead.)

The Runaway King by Jennifer Nielsen

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After revealing himself as the true Prince of Carthya, thought long-dead after his ship was attacked by pirates, Sage (now Jaron) has ascended the throne and is now King. He is still so young, though, and his regents aren’t sure they made the right decision to name him king without a steward first. After an assassination attempt, one of his regents moves to officially place a steward on the throne until they feel Jaron has learned enough about ruling to do it well.
Jaron doesn’t feel this is the right solution, and he’s frustrated that the regents aren’t paying more attention to the threat of war with Avenia. Jaron knows that Avenia – working with the pirates and the pirate king, Devlin – are responsible for the assassination attempt, and he knows that Avenia plans to invade Carthya. He’s determined to stop it before it starts, so he concocts a plan: in order to save his kingdom, he must flee his own country, going undercover once more as Sage, and infiltrate the pirates.
The Runaway King is the sequel to the story that began with The False Prince, and it’s the second book in a trilogy. The standout of these books is the voice. The world-building is pretty standard, and the plots – while fun – aren’t terribly original. But Sage/Jaron’s voice is phenomenal. He’s sassy and intelligent and snarky and a little arrogant but a lot unsure of himself, too. He loves deeply, while denying that love most of the time, and he acts before he thinks way too often. He’s such an interesting character and the perfect narrator for his story. 
This particular story is interesting enough, with plenty of action and derring-do and a nice, twisty plot (though not as twisty as the first). The inclusion of the pirates will definitely pump up the appeal, though it’s got plenty of appeal already. It’s a smaller story than that of the first book, and it’s certainly a much smaller story than that which will be told in the third volume (as the last chapter declares), but I don’t think it’s in danger of being a second-book slump. 
I will say that the way the main storyline is resolved is bit of a disappointment – it seems too easy, requiring a certain character to act in a way that is at odds with previous behavior. But the journey to that point – and the promise of the story to come – makes up for this slight shortcoming. The story moves so well and Jaron tells it in such an engaging way, it’s hard to stop telling yourself “Just one more chapter…”
Review copy provided by the publisher (via Kelly @ Midwinter!). The Runaway King will be available March 1.