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Flying the Dragon by Natalie Dias Lorenzi

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Skye has never met her grandfather. She’s never met her aunt, uncle, and cousin Hiroshi either. But when her grandfather gets sick, all four of her relatives move to Skye’s town from Japan for Grandfather’s course of treatment. While Hiroshi and his family don’t live with Skye, he still intrudes into her life far more than she would like. She’s forced to be his translator in school, which causes some of the other kids to make fun of her; her father is suddenly embracing his Japanese heritage, throwing out foreign phrases in front of her friends and cooking new foods; Hiroshi is hogging the attention of her Grandfather, who she is finally getting a relationship with for the first time; and, worst of all, she is now required to pass an intensive Japanese test if she wants to be able to play on the all-star soccer team. Hiroshi, on the other hand, has to deal with fitting into both a new school and a new country, figuring out the nuances and slang of the English language, and coming to terms with the fact that his beloved grandfather–and best friend–is gravely ill. His grandfather, the man who taught him everything he knows about rokkaku, Japanese kite flying/fighting, the hobby that Skye seems to be trying to horn in on, just as Hiroshi is trying to prepare for the rokkaku battle at the annual Washington Cherry Blossom Festival.

Flying the Dragon was a lovely middle grade novel that tackles cross-cultural conflict between family members who gradually also become friends. The novel alternates chapters between Skye’s and Hiroshi’s perspectives, and each character is developed enough that the duel narratives each have their own unique voice. Usually when I read a novel with multiple perspectives, I immediately gravitate towards one narrative, breezing through the other sections until I return to my ‘favorite.’ Not so with Flying the Dragon, as Hiroshi and Skye’s struggles were both compelling, their personalities both entrancing. In different ways, the two both feel caught between cultures: Skye not sure whether she should accept her Japanese side (years ago she rejected her given name, Sorano), and Hiroshi not sure whether he can ever feel comfortable in America, where people don’t eat rice for breakfast, teachers are called by their last name, and people don’t sleep in mats on the bedroom floor.

It was definitely refreshing to read a book that concentrated on the family bond, rather than on the friend bond. While the worlds of most middle grade students do revolve around their friends, and much of middle grade literature reflects this, the family relationship is just as important to many kids. The back story of Skye’s father’s break with his family was touched upon but not stressed, a fact which I liked, as it did not take the focus away from the children’s struggles. And the bond between Hiroshi and his Grandfather was absolutely wonderful to behold. I really enjoyed this sweet, heartwarming read.


Disclosure: Finished copy received for review from Charlesbridge Publishing.

So You Want to Read YA?: Guest Post from Brian Farrey

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This week’s “So You Want to Read YA?” series comes from editor and author Brian Farrey.

TO WRITE YA, YOU MUST READ YA
 
Check your watches. We’re almost due.
 
See, it happens every few years.
Someone shops JANE EYRE (or some other classic masterpiece of
literature) to publishing houses, collects a slurry of rejections,
then promptly denounces editors as being “out of touch” because
they clearly couldn’t recognize good writing when they saw it.
 
Or maybe the editors did recognize
it because, you know, we really weren’t born yesterday. But I
digress.
 
The point this person is trying to make
is that if a beloved book which is still in print and selling today
can’t pass muster with editors, then these editors obviously
don’t know what they’re doing or what appeals to audiences.
 
Ah. But we do. We know what appealed to
19th century audiences, when JANE EYRE was all the rage.
And we know what appeals to 21st century readers (the ones
we’re trying to reach), which more often than not isn’t
Jane Eyre. (Clarification: Obviously, yes, many people still read and
enjoy Bronte but work with me…)
 
Recently, Dystel and Goderich agent
Michael Bourret and HarperCollins editor Molly O’Neill posted
a joint blog discussion on what middle grade is. In
that post, Michael said:
 
What worked years ago
probably doesn’t work now–trends and
tastes change. ..
Classic books sell because they are classics, and I
would argue
that many of them would not find an audience today.
 
Now, granted, I’m here to talk about
young adult books BUT what Michael says applies across the board.
(Please read the aforementioned blog post. Chock full of great info
for writers in general.) Any time I speak at a conference, I convey
one very important point: if you want to write YA, you need to read
YA. Plain and simple. You need to understand the market. To do
that, you need to read books that were written in the last five
years.
 
I can spot someone who hasn’t done
their homework. It’s like a beacon. Their query will include one of
two red flag phrases: they will invoke “Nancy Drew” or they’ll
talk about wanting to “write books like the ones I fell in love
with when I was a kid.” Now, to be clear, there is nothing wrong
with letting your favorite childhood books inspire you. I dare you to
find a single successful writer who wasn’t called to the cause by a
book that made them want to be a writer. But, there’s a difference
between being inspired to write by certain books and attempting to
replicate the cadence and themes of dated material. Depending on when
you were a child, tastes have more than likely changed quite a bit.

 
Nancy Drew, like JANE EYRE, wouldn’t
work today. You know how I know that? Because even Nancy has gotten
with the times. Compare a Nancy Drew book that has come out in the
past couple years with one that was written in the ‘30s. Nancy had
to up her game. She doesn’t sound the same, she doesn’t get into
the same kind of scrapes.
 
With all this in mind, I’m here to
talk about what makes contemporary YA contemporary and how it differs
from the books we see through the tinted lens of nostalgia. I’d
like to recommend three titles to read that I think show not only
where YA is today but also where it’s going. If you’re interested
in writing publishable YA, give these books a looksee to get a feel
for what’s possible.
 
  1. THE MARBURY LENS—Andrew Smith is one of my very favorite authors writing today. I should add the disclaimer that, by nature, I like a little darkness in my books, especially my YA. Give me an unhappy or ambiguous conclusion over a nice, tidy, all-is-well ending any day. I want what I read to leave me with questions. Andrew does that. THE MARBURY LENS left me unsettled for weeks. OK, maybe dark and twisted isn’t your thang. That’s fine. The important thing (well, one of the important things) to get from reading this book isn’t the darkness but the innovative narrative structure and technique. Andrew’s storytelling isn’t linear, and that’s one of the things that makes it unique. When I read this, I thought, “I can’t point to another book and say ‘This is just like this person.’” The style and voice were unique and fresh. 
     

    Another writer who plays with narrative technique is A.S. King (in her Printz honor book, PLEASE IGNORE VERA DIETZ, you get the point of view of a pagoda). The result of this sort of narrative experimentation is something wholly original. (WARNING: This is one of those “you have to know the rules before you can break them” kind of things. Don’t throw in a weird narrative structure just to be different. It needs its own set of rules and they need to make sense.) That’s the danger of wanting to write Nancy Drew or nostalgia books. It’s not your voice and there’s nothing new about it. You’ve probably heard that, to pitch your book, it’s a good idea to say, “It’s just like Author X!” But, in all sincerity, I say: to stand out, you can’t write like anyone else.
    3. SPLIT—When you compare YA written
    in the past five years with something that was written, say, forty or
    fifty years ago, one of the biggest differences you’ll notice is
    voice. (To clarify: technically, YA as we know it didn’t
    exist forty or fifty years ago. But that’s a different story. For
    now, work with me.) Voice is so, so important to YA and it’s so, so
    hard to nail. It’s the summation of many factors: syntax, cadence,
    intelligence, point of view, time period, and vocabulary, just to
    name a few. It’s so elusive—and approached so subjectively by
    each writer—that many people acknowledge that you just know
    when you’re reading a good voice. Voice in contemporary YA often
    feels more intimate, more visceral. 
     
    In SPLIT, Swati Avasthi ‘s voice for
    Jace is pitch perfect. He is at once simple and complex. He is at
    ease and deeply troubled. He has his head screwed on straight and yet
    he’s ready to implode at any given moment. For me, the best
    contemporary YA is about conveying depth with everything.
    Characters work on different levels, as do the environments/world
    they inhabit. And a strong voice becomes a paintbrush capable of
    painting wide strokes when necessary, fine points that counter the
    wide strokes, and providing almost imperceptible color gradients that
    add nuance on both the macro and micro level. You should also check
    out Blythe Woolston’s THE FREAK OBSERVER. Loa’s voice is in many
    ways the antithesis of Jace but just as layered: fragile but
    resilient, honest but guarded. If I could assign homework for this
    blog post, it would be to read these two books and write a
    dissertation comparing/contrasting the voices used. (Have it on my
    desk by Monday.)
     
    Of course, I need to close with a few
    CYA comments. First of all, none of this should be read as YOU MUST
    DO THIS OR YOU WILL NEVER BE PUBLISHED AND SMALL CHILDREN WILL
    TRAVEL FOR MILES MERELY TO STAND ON YOUR DOORSTEP AND CHANT INSULTS
    AT YOU AND YOUR FAMILY. Do your own thing but forewarned is forearmed
    so know where you stand in the market.
     
    Similarly, I’m not saying These
    are the kind of books you should write if you want to get published.
    Far from it. My message here is These books give you a really
    good idea of what’s possible with modern YA fiction—and what
    works in modern YA fiction—and convey the feel you should be
    shooting for.
     
    I could go on and recommend other books
    but these three are a good place to start. Yes, there are plenty
    of current books that are nothing like the ones I’ve mentioned
    here. But, I promise, they all latch on to key elements of what makes
    a successful contemporary book. Look, it’s not 1850 anymore. It’s
    not 1950 anymore. Nostalgia is one thing but why repeat the past when
    you can be totally original?
     
    So, check your watches. We’re also
    due for another hatchet job on YA in some major newspaper. You know,
    claiming that YA is “too dark and depressing.” Whatever. That’s
    a rant for a whole other blog post.

A Midsummer’s Nightmare by Kody Keplinger

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Whitley’s parents divorced a few years ago, and after her dad said living with him wouldn’t be ideal, she’s split her time so that she lives with mom during the school year and dad during the summers. Whitley lives for those summers — her dad lives in a sweet condo and he’s such a reprieve from her mother who spends far too long whining and generally being a pill.

Things this summer, though, aren’t the same. When dad comes to pick Whitley up, he breaks the news: he’s no longer living in the condo. He’s got a new woman in his life. He’s also got two new step-kids. And as if things could be any worse, it turns out that one of those new kids happens to be Nathan, the boy Whitley slept with at a big graduation party just weeks ago.

Not awkward at all.

When Whitley gets to her dad’s new place, she’s angry. She’s unhappy with the new arrangement, but she’s doubly unhappy because she can’t get a second of her father’s time. This was going to be the summer he helped her figure out what she should do with her life and what she should study in college. This is the last summer before she’s officially on her own as a college student. But now, dad’s too busy with his job and things are downright uncomfortable living with Nathan and his little sister Bailey, who keeps pestering Whitley to take her shopping.

Whitley takes to partying it up in small town Hamilton, Illinois, much like she did back home with her mom. Except now it’s a much smaller stage and when word gets out that the local TV news anchor’s daughter is getting around and getting sloppy drunk, the evidence shows up on Facebook and mars not only Whitley’s reputation, but also her father’s. When Whitley tries to reach out to her older blood brother — who lives across the country and is happily married — she can’t get the time of day. The time she finally does, she learns the awful truth of what happened between her parents and why her mother and father divorced in the first place. This nugget of knowledge doesn’t help her in the situation, but it wakes her up to the truth of everything she’s come to believe about the adults in her life. And it definitely helps her reassess her situation and her own life choices. And Nathan, who she thought she’d screwed things up with permanently, may be one of the greatest people she could ask for in her life.

A Midsummer’s Nightmare showcases a real growth in Kody Keplinger’s writing — as much as I liked her first book, The Duff, I found this one to be much more emotionally engaging with richly developed characters and plenty of plot to tease apart. Whitley is not an easy character to like. From the start, she’s introduced to us as a party girl who doesn’t seem to have much going for her. She’s angry and frustrated. She’s got a reputation for sleeping around and doesn’t care. But as much as it’s easy to dislike her because of this, she pretty quickly garners sympathy. It’s obvious that she’s behaving this way out of self-preservation, rather than out of a desire to be a bad girl. We know early on that there’s something has happened with her parents and her life isn’t easy at home. As unfriendly as Whitley is throughout the beginning of the story, her hurt is palpable and begs the reader to pay attention. She tries really hard to get people to pay attention to her through good means — she calls her brother and she repeatedly tells her dad she wants to talk with him — but when those methods don’t work, she finds herself turning to drinking and partying because that at least wakes people up to her. It’s not healthy, but she’s stuck and this is her way of unsticking. I found myself really liking Whitley, even if she didn’t want herself to be a likable character (because she doesn’t).

Much of what Whitley tells readers from the start has us believing her mother is a selfish, childish woman and her father — who is a pretty big deal anchorman for the local tv news — is a sort of saint. So when he breaks the news that he’s got a new lady in his life and a whole new family, Whitley feels shattered. She didn’t want this. Her dad didn’t ask her for permission (though it’s obvious to us as readers he doesn’t need to, we feel her anger with her). And when Whitley realizes that her father’s putting in extra hours at work, rather than spending time with her, she starts to suspect there’s more to him than she’s believed. The truth, as she learns, is that her father hasn’t been a great guy. That he’s made huge mistakes when it comes to his personal life. The next paragraph is spoiler territory, so proceed with caution (or skip to the paragraph after).

The moment when Whitley learns her father and mother divorced because her father cheated on her mother, my heart sank for her. This information changes her. Even though it seems small, Whitley’s beliefs about her father shatter. The man she once saw as a cool guy who did no wrong was suddenly a cheater in her mind. I’ve talked a little bit before about my own family, about my father and our complicated relationship. When I was younger, I learned that the reason my parents divorced was this same reason: my father cheated on my mom (with the woman he then married soon after). Learning this about a parent is a big deal, as it’s one of those moments when your beliefs about the infallibility of adults changes. For Whitley, this information gives her great perspective into why her mother is so hurt, and it gives her insight into why her father was always the kind of guy he was. He was immature and irresponsible — not the laid back, cool dude she thought he was. I give Keplinger major kudos in how she tackles this sensitive topic. It’s here we see a huge shift in Whitley and it’s here we identify with her strongly as a character who hurts, rather than as a character who is “bad.” This isn’t overplayed nor is it overplayed as a plot element; it’s well-played and made me sympathize so much with Whitley. In that moment I completely got her and her situation. It was a real awakening for her, and it pushed her forward in the way it needed to. I’d argue this is where she learned she was an adult herself.

The other element that shook this story up was the relationship between Whitley and her new step-brother Nathan and the relationship between Whitley and her new step-sister Bailey. Things are strained between Whit and Nathan because of their sexual encounter early on. While she fixates on this and worries about the impact that decision has on their relationship as step-siblings, Nathan moves forward. He’s incredibly mature but not in a manner that makes him a perfect guy. He admits to making mistakes — including losing his virginity with Whitley in the manner he did. Over the course of learning to navigate their new family, the two of them come to find out they care about each other in a way that’s much deeper than a one night stand. There’s a real and sweet connection between them, and they learn that their futures are entangled in more than one way. Keplinger does a great job not making this sappy nor overly sentimental — that wouldn’t be true to Whitley. Instead, it’s real and it’s potentially rocky.

My favorite relationship to watch in A Midsummer’s Nightmare was the one between 13-year-old Bailey and Whitley. Bailey tells Whit from the start she’s so excited to have an older sister. She wants someone to look up to and to model. Because she’s so angry and hurt, Whitley screws this up from the start. Rather than seeing the potential in being a role model and in being a sister, she hurts Bailey repeatedly. But Bailey loves her so much, she continues to give her new chances. It was really reminiscent of the other relationships in Whitley’s life — despite uncovering the bad things and the dark things, there is always a chance for redemption, and that’s exemplified through Bailey. When Whit lets down her guard and allows herself to be loved and to share love, the relationship between the two of them only becomes stronger.

Although there’s drinking, drugs, and sex in this book, it’s purposeful. It gives us insight into Whitley and her need for something to protect her during this time of transition. For me, this book is really all about transitions — there’s a huge family transition for Whitley’s father, as well as Nathan and Bailey. There’s a huge transition for Whitley here, too, and she’s gearing up for leaving the high school world and entering college (where there’s a hugely unknown future awaiting her). With this many characters experiencing transition in one place, there are bound to be actions that are selfish and self-protecting, and Keplinger nails this. A Midsummer’s Nightmare will appeal to readers who have ever gone through major family changes and those who are hesitant and worried about the transition from the isolated and “safe” world of high school to college. Whitley’s got a great voice and she’s never once too smart for herself. Readers who liked Keplinger’s other titles will like this one. This isn’t a fluffy story, and it’s one that will likely resonate for many who have ever wondered where the boundaries between childhood and adulthood lie. For me, this was a story of Whitley realizing she was right in the midst of that huge life change, and without doubt, I see many readers readily identifying with her.

This book impressed me, and I’m really eager to see where Keplinger goes next. I love watching writers grow and I love watching their story telling skills continue to improve.

Previously: 
Review of Kody Keplinger’s The Duff
Review of Kody Keplinger’s Shut Out

Review copy received from the publisher. A Midsummer’s Nightmare is available now!

Following up

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After my post on ARCs went up last Wednesday and I saw all kinds of response on Thursday, I decided it was time to take this issue a little further. I already knew ALA had been monitoring the discussion, but because it was clear that the topic was far bigger than anything I could handle, I got in touch with Publisher’s Weekly.

Friday afternoon, I spent almost an hour on the phone with Shannon, who wrote this great piece about ARCs and conference decorum. I hope everyone takes a few minutes to read it.

I’m not going to lie. If I never see the acronym “ARC” again, it will be too soon. But this topic is important and worth discussing, so I’m glad it’s going to reach a bigger audience through the proper channels.

Something I kept quiet but feel like mentioning in addition to all of this is this: Liz Burns, Kristi Chadwick, and I proposed a session for ALA 13 in Chicago on this very topic months ago. We’re waiting for final word on approval, but if it’s accepted, you can bet we’ll be talking about the value of ARCs as tools to librarians, for collection development, for reader’s advisory, and more.

Make it happen, right?

Edited to add: I looked through this week’s edition of American Libraries Direct (which is the newsletter of the American Library Association) and didn’t see anything mentioned. But I went back later after being prompted, and if you scroll down for an eternity, you’ll see that AL Direct did bring up the ARC situation . . . and they only linked to THAT blog post. 

Guest Post: Fair Coin by E. C. Myers

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Matthew Jackson returns for a guest review of the YA fantasy/science fiction novel Fair Coin by E. C. Myers. Jackson has been sporadically guesting for us for a while now, most notably his series on Horror Lit 101. An avid reader and reviewer, he reviews adult fiction for BookPage, is an entertainment journalist at Blastr.com, and will have a short story published in the forthcoming issue of Weird Tales Magazine. You can visit him online at his tumblr and Twitter. (Full disclosure: he also happens to be my boyfriend, and I am proud to say that I have significantly increased the number of YA books he reads.)  

I’m not one of those reviewers who groans at genre classifications. Sometimes I think we have too many of them, and sometimes it frustrates me when readers refuse to venture outside of their “paranormal romance” or “urban fantasy” or “contemporary YA” comfort zones, but overall genres are fun for me. That’s all by way of saying I’m a devotee of numerous genres, but it still makes me happy when I find a truly genre-bending book that manages to cleverly blend conventions while going its own way. It makes me even happier when the book in question is shelved in the young adult section, an area which – in the age of countless paranormal melodramas and dystopian rebellion adventures (neither of which I mean any offense to, by the way) – could use all the genre-bending it can get.

Sixteen-year-old Ephraim’s life is plunged into chaos when he comes home one day to find his mother slumped over the kitchen table after a suicide attempt. That’s problem enough, but things get even more harrowing when he discovers why his mother tried to kill herself: earlier that day, she was called to the hospital to identify the body of her dead son. A boy who looks just like Ephraim is dead, and among his belongings (which Ephraim’s mother brought home from the morgue) is a mysterious coin.

Curious and scared, Ephraim takes the coin and accidentally discovers that it seems to grant wishes. The wishes start small, little experiments to test the object’s power. But as the wishes grow, and as Ephraim learns what the coin is capable of, he realizes that every time he changes something voluntarily, something else involuntarily shifts along with it. There’s more than simple magic going on, and as Ephraim tries to hold it together with his best friend, his crush and his mother, he realizes that unless he can come to understand what the coin really is, everything will fall apart.

I’ve talked about this before, and I’m never really sure that I’m making sense when I say it, but I like stories that unfold. There’s nothing wrong with a predictable, direct tale if it’s told well, but my favorite stories are always the ones that feel like every chapter is a discovery rather than a signpost on some big story map. It’s more fun when the story is revealing itself to me rather than pushing me on to the ending. Of course, I want to get to the ending, but I want to feel like I’m experiencing something along the way. Fair Coin is that kind of book. Myers deftly and gracefully weaves fantasy, science fiction, mystery, romance and teenage uncertainties into one tight, compelling package. It’s a page turner that also packs real weight into every chapter, and that’s always a worthy book.

If I have a complaint, it’s the dialogue, but I’m not necessarily blaming Myers for that. His prose is direct yet vivid, his pacing is wonderful and his story is fascinating, but the dialogue never quite feels real to me. There’s too much exposition packed into the mouths of the characters in places, and the human moments sometimes stumble a bit over clumsy lines. But in all fairness, that might just be me. It might ring completely true to teen readers, but even if it doesn’t, the dialogue doesn’t get in the way much.

Fair Coin might not have the same kind of instant appeal that some YA genre novels pack, but if you’re willing to make the leap it’s worth the investment. It’s a tale that twists genres without breaking the rules of any of them, told with fire and confidence and a sense of humor. E. C. Myers has quite simply done something wonderful here, and if you’re frustrated with predictable genre fiction you’ll be glad this book exists.

Finished copy received from the publisher. Fair Coin is available now.