Lips Touch: Three Times by Laini Taylor
It took me far to long too pick this book up. Three separate stories tied together with a common theme: a kiss. Each fantastical, each better than then its predecessor. Each story opens with several pages of illustrations, beautifully done by Jim De Bartolo, giving us a glimpse of what will be unfolded in the ensuing pages, whether they be goblins, demons, or immortals. The writing is captivating. The stories are captivating. Definitely a book for ages 12 and up.
I recommend this book to those who have enjoyed the Twilight series, the House of Night series, Mortal Instruments series, and the writing of Kristen Cashore and Cinda Williams Chima.
Hold Still by Nina LaCour
My coworker, Anna, has an adorable habit of scooping up my current read, flipping to a random page, and reading to me. Sometimes this gets her hooked and she decides to read the whole book (How We Decide). Sometimes she is indifferent (Malice) and sometimes a serious-subject book like Hold Still is lambasted for its immediately noticable poor writing and trite dialog.
Hold Still is a finalist for the 2010 William C. Morris YA Debut Award.
How that happened, I don’t know. I suppose if you raved all over Wintergirls, you would rave all over Hold Still. They are both pretentious YA novels attempting to tackle a melodramatic teen problem - suicide, in this case, anorexia in the former. In my opinion the writing damns them both.
Hold Still assumes by saying a whole lot of nothing, it’s really deep stuff. Like the narrators inability to speak signifies the depth of her loss. If she was going for In Our Time young adult style, I wasn’t feeling it.
The dialogue is pretty bad overall:
Someone leans against the lockers next to me. Dylan. Her hair is even messier up close. Strands stick out all around her face.
“Hey,” she says.
“Hi.”
She stares at me for so long that I start to wonder if I look weird, if there’s ink on my forehead of something. Then she gives me a smile that’s hard to pin down. It’s sort of amused, but not in a bad way. Before she leaves, she rummages in the bag she’s carrying and slams her lock onto the empty locker next to mine. She stomps away and I’m alone (p 25).
If you’ve read it and have a different or confirming opinion, I’d love to hear. My big beef is with the delivery. Not the message. Certainly, teen problems demand attention. I just don’t believe these two books should be representing the best in YA. What book would you choose?
Malice by Chris Wooding
I took one look at the cover of this book (it protrudes) and knew it would be an easy sell to middle-grade readers but I also immediately underestimated its content, writing it off as all show and no substance. I was delightfully proven wrong.
The opening grabs the reader immediately, with an urban legend scenario. First, a black feather. Second, a twig. Third, a knot of cat fur… The fourth ingredient was a tear (p 7).
When Luke performs the ritual, completed with the words “Tall Jake, take me away,” he is shortly taken away by the cover boy to the land of Malice. The terrors of Malice make it to our world in the form of a comic book. When Seth and Kady, Luke’s best friends, track down the elusive comic, they learn of Luke fate.
Seth longs for an unexplored world. According to Seth:
It was as if there were two worlds for adults, divided by an invisible barrier: the world of the Living and the world of the Dead, The Living dressed up and looked good, and they went out and did things like go to the theater and eat in restaurants. They laughed and sparkled. The Dead drifted back from their jobs every day and sat in front of the TV, and every day they got a bit pudgier and duller, and they only bought cheap, functional clothes because there was no point looking good when you never went out.
Seth looked at his parents, and he was afraid. He was afraid that he was a child of the Dead, and nothing he could do would stop him from turning into one of them (p 37).
Angered by Luke’s end and mesmerized by the possibilities of Malice, he soon summons Tall Jake. It is part prose, part comic book (though the art was the weakest part of the book), this would be an easy sell to Wimpy Kid readers.
This is more than just a good horror (if you liked The Devouring, you’ll love Malice). It is a layered story. Jake only comes for those who believe, those who think they are ready. Some make it out alive. Some die. Some don’t want to leave. I’m already clamoring for the sequel, Havoc.
Odd and the Frost Giants by Neil Gaiman
There was a boy called Odd, and there was nothing strange or unusual about that, not in that time or place. Odd meant the tip of the blade, and it was a lucky name (p 1).
For those who enjoy mythological tales, Odd and the Frost Giants is a must read. Employing Norse mythology, Gaiman tells the story of Odd, a crippled young man with an unsettling smile. With the aid of a crutch, Odd leaves home to reside in his deceased father’s hunting cabin.
His adventure really begins when a fox knocks on his door. The fox leads him to a bear caught between two trees during an attempted honey comb heist. A one-eyed eagle flies overhead. When Odd assists the bear, he becomes entangled with the lives of these animals who are soon revealed to be trapped Norse gods.
At only 117 pages, this is a very quick read with only a handful of challenging words for a young reader.
The days were long here in Asgard. The sun was a silver coin that hung in the white sky. Odd pushed himself to keep walking, one step at a time, remembering when he had walked with ease and never thought twice about the miracle of putting one foot in front of the other and pushing the world towards you (p 76).
The writing is, of course, excellent and perfectly paced. As someone who enjoyed the story of Atlanta, elements of stories like the Riddle of the Sphinx, and the tricksters featured in The Sign of the Qin and Trickster’s Choice, this story was a sweet peach.
My Most Anticipated Book of 2010
Brandon Mull’s Fablehaven: Keys to the Demon Prison (March 23, 2010)
Ash by Malinda Lo
Ash is a finalist for the 2010 William C. Morris YA Debut Award.
Malinda takes the skeleton story of Cinderella (a young girl loses her mother; father remarried before following his first wife to the grave; girl lives miserably with stepmother and two stepsisters) and builds a new story involving the seductive and deadly faeries of lore, the king’s huntress as friend and love interest, and storytelling.
The writing is solid. I’ve always loved fairy tales (not the sugar-coated Disney retellings but the gritty originals) and you will enjoy this book if you do as well. Some of my favorite passages were the fairy tale stories within the story; cautionary tales of humans caught in fairy rings or by the fairy hunt or those who seek out Fairy Queen aid.
I enjoyed this retelling far more than A Curse as Dark as Gold so I wouldn’t be surprised if won, but I have yet to read the other nominees.
The Problem with the Puddles by Kate Feiffer
Baby got in, she looked up at the sky and saw the dog-shaped cloud. It lifted its back leg. Sure enough, rain fell on the Puddles (p 3).
Feiffer’s debut novel is adorable, lovable, deplorable. No. Not deplorable, though there is a deplorable character.
Rain clouds stop for the Puddles. Could it be because Mr. and Mrs. cannot agree? They agree to disagree. They disagree so fervently that decision-making often frustrates their two children, Baby and Tom. When the Puddles leave for the city without their dogs (big Sally and Little Sally, they couldn’t agree on a dog), a chain of disagreements set in motion a chain of events that end in the reader falling in love with this quirky family and their dogs. A fantastic transitional reader I would give to those who enjoy Junie B. and Clementine.
I wish I lived next door to the Puddles. A strong contender for the Newbery. I wish there was a new author award for children’s literature, similar to the William C. Morris award.
The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold
I’m very late to the party on this one, but a coworker’s enthusiasm pushed the book to the front of my To Be Read pile. If you want a hint of the plot, watch the trailer.
or read the New York Times review by Michiko Kakutani. I happen to agree with much of what it says. Ruth never sat well with me. I attributed her obsession with Susie to a crush that never ended due to Susie’s death. When Susie enters Ruth’s body, I was jolted. Now we were entering fantasy land, though her actions, once human again, were understandable.
The allure for me was the nature in which Sebold tackled Susie’s killer (though his demise was a little hard to believe, especially after all the build up via Hal, the police and Harvey’s brazen return to the Salmon residence). Some of it was tedious reading (some of the Salmon family past was excessive), but overall, a decent read.
I’m sure to make my way to the theater to see Jackson’s vision, though I have mixed feelings about the absence of a rape/murder scene. Early reviews applaud this absence (Good. Too many filmmakers revel in horror. The Sun) and others balk (The screen version, by contrast, is so infuriatingly coy, and so desperate to preserve the modesty of its soulful victim that it amounts to an ongoing clean-up operation. The Guardian).
All the Broken Pieces by Ann E. Burg
I have a now brother.
He doesn’t look like me.
I’m too much fall–
wet brown leaves
under a darkening sky.
Tommy is summer–
sunlight, peaches,
wide, grinning sky.
Even Tommy’s hair is summer.
Curls cling to his scalp like
the yellow-and-white sweet corn
at McGreavy’s Market.
Only one straight tuft sticks up,
like a clump of sun-scorched hay.
(p 8 )
When he was ten years old (but looked six) Matt was given to American soldiers by his Vietnamese mother so that he could escape the war. Adopted by a loving American family, Matt carries the heaviness of a past defined by war and a secret shame.
All the Broken Pieces is like a short story by Hemingway. Told in verse, the words are short and the sentences terse but packed with meaning. The descriptions are tied to nature and lovely in a straightforward way that reminded me of Hemingway.
The days are getting
really warm.
Summer is sitting
on spring
and squeezing out
all the wetness.
(p 218)
There isn’t an extraneous line in the novel. It will take about two hours to read but you’ll find yourself reflecting on it long after you finish. Just beautifully written, the story unravels with polished eloquence. A definite contender for the Printz, in my estimation.
