Fiction Friday (61)

I continue to make my way through a pile of YA novels for my current graduate course and am back to share my thoughts on the latest one. This week, I had to read a selection in the "street fiction" genre, which I must say, I find the name of the genre to be slightly racist as it's all about black urban teens. But not all black teens are "street" and not all "street" teens are black, so it kind of bothers me and I can't help but feel there is a marginalization going on here. That said, I enjoyed the book that I read. Told in alternating letters written between a boyfriend in jail and his girlfriend on the outside. There were rare moments in the text where I felt the voices were a little off, but not enough to turn me off. Enjoy.

Upstate by Kalisha Buckhanon
(St. Martin's Griffen, 2005)

Antonio and Natasha are madly in love and plan to spend the rest of their lives together. But when Antonio is sent “upstate” for the murder of his dad, all their hopes and dreams for the future fall into jeopardy. No longer able to spend their days hanging out together in Harlem or even see each other face-to-face, they write each other letters to stay close. But can their love survive if they are separated from each other?

Told in alternating letters, this novel set in the early '90s details the strain that circumstances take on young love. Young love is hard enough to keep alive under the best of circumstances, but when you add an obstacle like a 10year felony sentence, it is nearly impossible for the two lovers not to grow apart. Antonio has his own demons to face as he comes to realize the harsh reality of his circumstances, meanwhile Natasha slowly realizes that she can't put her life on hold. And though it's clear that these two are growing apart, you never stop rooting from to pull through.

While this is a compelling love story on the surface, under the surface there is much to think about and consider. The backdrop of this love story is the toll heavy incarceration of black males has on the communities and families in their lives, the racially unbalanced legal system in our country, and the struggle facing those who try to raise themselves up from poverty and hardship. Written in an honest, straightforward style that pulls no punches, this is a compelling novel about teen life in a specific place and specific time that can be universally impactful.

Fiction Friday (60)

So this past week, I read a book that had been on my "To-Read" shelves forever. I always avoided this book because I don't usually like to read realistic YA fiction in fear that it will influence things I'm working on. But given that I had to read one for class, I figured it was high time I read this and I could kick myself for not reading it sooner because I absolutely loved it. What a wonderful book! Enjoy.

Speak by Laurie Halse Anderson
(Penguin, 1999)

Silence suffocates Melinda as she begins her Freshman year at Merryweather High. Isolated by her friends and despised by upperclassmen for breaking up an end-of-summer party, Melinda begins what are supposed to be the best years of her of life as a complete outcast. Part of her believes that things could be different if people only knew the horrible secret of that night at the party when she called the police, but a louder part of her fears that nobody will believe her...so she remains silent. As the school year progresses, Melinda's problems grow. Her grades suffer, her family life becomes more a struggle, and she worries that her secret will eventually drive her to madness. But just like the seeds she studies in Biology and the trees she attempts to create in Art class, growth is inevitable and Melinda finds her voice when she needs it most.

On the surface, Speak is the story of a victim. Melinda is the victim of a horrific crime and a victim of social banishment, but she is more than just a victim. She is an intelligent, compassionate, and courageous young woman that the reader gets to meet thanks to the confessional tone of the writing. Her outsider perspective allows her to identify the absurdity of high school, which she relates in many hysterical observations. The character refuses to be defined by what has happened to her, and likewise the book refuses to be defined as a novel about rape.

Ultimately satisfying and poignant! One of those rare novels that brought to me to tears. 

Fiction Friday (48)

As promised, there were more book reviews to come. This book is one that I never would have picked up on my own and read it for my library course work. I'm glad I did. It's also a book that would serve many people in this country well after the disastrous elections that chose to support anger and hate over progress and tolerance. This is a book that teaches understanding and acceptance...something we obviously need more of in this world.

Wonder by R.J. Palacio
(Knopf 2012)

This is a novel that borders the Middle Grade and YA and has been near the top of NYT Children's Bestseller list for over two years.  It is one of those rare bestsellers that is truly wonderful. While it's about a fifth grader with a severe facial deformity, and the struggles he faces when entering a school for the first time, it's much broader than that and really captures the struggles of growing up and the difficult years of Middle School and early High School. It deals with many difficult topics in a sensitive and realistic way that can't help but cause readers to become emotionally attached to the wonderful family at the heart of the book.

The novel is told from a number of perspectives, but the Pullman siblings dominant the narrative. They were also the strongest and most sincere voices. When some of the periphery characters take over, I found their voices to be less authentic and a little more forced, but their insight to the story was crucial for the instilling the sense of empathy that young readers should develop while reading this book.

I'm fairly certain this is one of those novels that will become a classic, read in school for years and years to come because of the powerful message of kindness and acceptance. A delightful and moving read for all ages.

Fiction Friday (47)

What is one to do when in a foreign country and has finished the book one has carried overseas? Of course, if that said person read ebooks, it wouldn't be a problem. I am that one and I  don't read ebooks! I took to searching the shelves of the house I was staying in for any book in English. Thankfully my in-laws all read English, though I had slim pickings in my room and I needed something to read before going to sleep. So I grabbed the first book I found, a slim and intriguing novel which I began that night and finished a few days later. Here are my thoughts.

Salt Water by Charles Simmons
(Chronicle 1998)

This slim novel is a contemporary retelling of Turgenev's classic tale "First Love," which I have not read and therefor can make no comparison. It takes place during a summer spent at a summer house on an isolated island off the coast. It is the summer when the main character falls in love for the first time at the age of fifteen.

Amid the tale of love and coming of age, the narrative explores the dynamics of family relationships, the way marriage evolves and eventually ebbs as children grow, and the shifting nature of emotions that don't often occur in seismic waves, but rather in small sometimes unnoticed tremors. The writing style captures this as well with its carefully constructed telling and what it chooses to reveal and conceal.

Though there's nothing earth shattering about this book, I would even venture to characterize it as a "quiet" novel, though I hate that term, it is well-done. If anything, I felt that the quiet style lessened the potential emotional impact of the story.

Oddly enough, I started reading it without knowing anything about it. About a third of the way through, I looked to see when it was written because it felt very much like a late '90s style of novel, and sure enough, it was. It's funny how enough time has passed that there is a definitive feel to books written during those years to make them identifiable. It reminded me of novels from Louise Erdrich and Kirsty Gunn, though perhaps less compelling. Enjoyable and quick.

Fiction Friday (46)

I'm still trying to keep up my goal of reading more this year than last, and though this one took me slightly longer to read than I had hoped, it wasn't for lack of reading, it was because the story was so engrossing that I purposely let it linger a bit to let myself be contained in its world for little longer. But not to fear, I've already finished reading another book since this one, so I'm getting back on track, or at least I'm trying to, so look for more reviews to come sooner rather than later. Enjoy. 

MoMo by Michael Ende
(1973)

When you reach a certain point in your reading life, there are few stories that hold many surprises. This fact is compounded when you are also a writer. Story is a such a huge part of your thinking, and given that there are a finite amount of ways to construct a story, it's rare that you find one that feels so incredibly unique. MoMo is one such story.

As with Michael Ende's more widely read novel, The Neverending Story, this is a book that feels like a story in two parts. The first half of the story, while not exactly traditional, follows an established trajectory. Momo, a vagabond child, arrives in the outskirts of an unnamed city and takes up residence in the ruins of an amphitheater where she befriends the lively, if not well-to-do, locals. Her gift is that she listens to people, respects people, and allows everything to run its natural course in an unhurried way. As a result, people connect with her and children's imaginations blossom around her, because she puts no constraints on their creativity.

The second half of the story takes on new and intriguing dimensions as the grey man begin to take up more and more of the story and introduce sci-fi and fantasy elements into the narrative. The result is that the reader, after being lulled into a story of a girl, find themselves wrapped into an imaginative adventure involving time thieves, the nature of modern life, and the nature of time in general. This part of the story takes on so many dreamlike qualities and fantastical situations that blew me away with their creativity.

Thought-provoking and utterly satisfying, this is also the rare book that can be equally enjoyed by young readers and seasoned readers.

Fiction Friday (25)

Welcome to Friday, the day when I review books that I've read recently. This week is a rare event as I'm reviewing a book that is still new, well, a month old. In the past year, I've read several newish novels that have grabbed me in a way few books do and have quickly become among my favorites. One of those books was Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children. It was such a creative story, and so well executed, that it was certainly one of those books that when I was done, I thought why couldn't have I written that? Luckily the story didn't end with that novel and I was once again able to enter the land of Peculiardom and get lost in it's tales. Enjoy.

Hollow City by Ransom Riggs
(Quirk, 2014)

The long awaited sequel to Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children was released a few weeks ago, and I did something that I rarely do, I went out and bought it the day it came out. The first book blew me away when I read it last year, and I just couldn't wait to read the second one. Hollow City picks up where the first one left off, with the Peculiar Children being tossed around at sea after fleeing their now destroyed home. From there, it's a nonstop adventure as they navigate Wales during the middle of World War II, trying to avoid the monstrous hollows who hunt them at every turn.

Essentially this novel is the story of a single journey of purpose as the children desperately try to save their injured ymbryne. With most of the Time Loops now raided by the wights, and nearly all of the ymbrynes captured, the children must hope against hope that they will find Miss Wren, the only other ymbryne who has not been captured. She is the only one with the power to save Miss Peregrine and the children will stop at nothing to find her.

Their journey takes them to a forgotten loop consisting of peculiar animals, a deadly run-in with a gypsy caravan and wight soldiers, a raided loop hidden in St. Paul's Cathedral, and finally to a frozen building located in an old vacation loop. The action is suspenseful and extremely well written, and it was nice to see the children using their powers in creative ways to meet the challenges facing them. And as with the first novel, their interactions were at the heart of the book. It's sometimes hard to carry such a large cast and still have each character stand out, but this book accomplishes that extremely well. It even introduces a wonderful selection of new peculiars with equally intriguing powers.

While I couldn't put this down at times, and read it very quickly, I have to confess that I didn't love it quite as much as the first one. It's not that the story wasn't compelling, because it was, my problem with it was simply that it felt like a book whose purpose was to bridge two other books, the one that came before and the one that is to come after. The characters went from point A to point B, and though a lot of exciting things happen along the way, it felt that very little was revealed about the peculiar world beyond what the reader already knew. One of the things I truly loved about the first one was the scope of imagination used to establish this strange new universe. However it should be said that now that you are in it, it is no less fascinating. And there is a brilliant unexpected twist toward the end that really pulls the whole book together. One of the great things about this plot twist is that it didn't just come out of nowhere. After it is revealed, it becomes clear that it was perfectly set up all along.

Another thing that maybe pulled this down a little for me was the relationship between Emma and Jacob, which beautifully blossomed in the first book and contained all the excitement of young love. It felt slightly stagnated this time around. It wasn't ignored, it did evolve and change, but for whatever reason, I didn't feel as though the characters were as invested in it this time around. That's sort of true of Jacob in general. A lot of his emotional reactions felt as though they didn't carry a honest punch. Conversely, I loved how Olive (the girl from the cover of the last book) became an important character, and an enjoyable one as well. And as I said before, the ending of this book is outstanding. Needless to say, I'll be eagerly waiting for next book. Oh, and the teaser picture of it on the last page is eerily perfect.

Fiction Friday (24)

This month I read two books that pair well together. Both were historical fiction that center around two of my long time literary obsessions, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and In the Realms of the Unreal. Beyond the obvious similarities in these two works of literature, both displaying incredibly imaginative worlds, there are other interesting connections. Both books owe much of their existence to specific children who inspired the authors in different ways, and both books were written by authors with many unanswered questions about their lives. Given that, I thought the two novels below, inspired by the above mentioned works, would make for an interesting edition of Fiction Friday. Enjoy.

Alice I Have Been by Melanie Benjamin
(Random House, 2010)

Among fans of Lewis Carroll's work, there seems to be just as much fascination with the story of his life as there is with the fictional stories, specifically his relationship with Alice Pleasance Liddell, the little girl for whom he created his most famous work, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. Though biographies of the author, of which I have read many, cover this aspect of his life in detail, there has been little attempt to examine the relationship from the point of view of the other person involved. There are very few biographies about the "real" Alice, and most don't delve too deeply into the circumstances surrounding her interaction with Charles Dodgeson (aka Lewis Carroll), which is probably what made Melanie Benjamin's novel Alice I Have Been an instant success when it came out.

Though I was excited upon its publication, I held off reading it until this month. When this novel came out, I had recently read Katie Rophie's Still She Haunts Me, a novel that also imagines the relationship between Alice and the author. I loved that novel, and wanted to wait for it to pass through my system before entering Benjamin's world. While they cover a lot of the same territory, the books are very different. The focus of this novel is the little girl and her thoughts and feelings, and properly leaves the intentions of others to her speculation, as any first person narrative should.

Beyond the appeal of telling a story that has long captured my curiosity, this is a remarkably poignant coming of age tale about a girl who doesn't really want to grow up, but who like all of us, must. It's a touching portrait of a child caught in situations that she cannot completely understand, and ultimately has to live with the consequences imposed by witnessing adults. In many ways, this imagining of Alice's life is similar to the themes in Alice's Adventures in Wonderland about the nonsensical rules of an adult world imposed on a child.

I really enjoyed that the book didn't end where most discussions of Alice end. It continued on, exploring her grown up life in depth, and the kind of burden that came with being "the real Alice". I also appreciated how it didn't attempt to settle the long standing debate on the nature of Lewis Carroll and his intentions when it came to his child friends. Through the entire novel, Alice remained the focus and how the ambiguous historical events may have been seen through a child's eyes, and later how they may have affected her. It was tragic at times, beautiful at others, and always engaging.

While many of the facts concerning the interactions between Alice and Lewis Carrol have been intentionally lost, either by the elimination of his dairy pages after his death or the destruction of the letters he wrote to a young Alice by her mother, Benjamin's portrayal feels very plausible. But the great thing about this book is that it doesn't really matter if they are factual or not. As a novel, the interpretations are carried through with incredible skill, creating a character as unforgettable as the real life inspiration. (My Pinterest Board of Alice Liddell)

Outsider by Stephen Tobias

(Book Publishers Network, 2013)

The life of Henry Darger, one the most intriguing Outsider artists to emerge in the last thirty years, certainly contains enough mysterious elements to conjure up a great novel. Instead of trying to get into the mind of someone whose intentions and thoughts are much debated, Stephen Tobias decides to tell the story of the landlord who discovered Darger's alarming illustrations for his manuscript of the longest novel ever written, In the Realms of the Unreal.

While based on facts surrounding the life of Darger, this novel is the story of Nathan Learner, a semi-successful photographer who has lost his desire to take pictures after his ten-year old daughter's long losing battle with cancer. Remarried, he is surviving on his real estate holdings and a teaching job at a Chicago art school when one his long-time tenants succumbs to age and illness. When Herman Viereck is taken to a nursing home, Nathan is tasked with the chore of cleaning out his apartment and sorting through the stuff left behind. What he finds ends up being an astonishing treasure of art produced in secret over the years.

Eventually Nathan decides that the work needs to be shared with the public for a variety of reasons. The art is so unique and visionary that he feels it would be a travesty to deny sharing it with the art world, but there are also finical reasons because by selling the artwork, he can recoup the rent owed on the apartment, and later, pay for Herman's funeral. But as the art becomes a sensation, he begins to dig deeper into the experiences that caused Herman to produce the shocking images of the Vivian girls endless, horrific war depicted in the illustrations and manuscript. This investigation leads him to the unsolved murder of a child years before.

Since many of the details of Darger's life are unknown, this is the aspect of the novel that takes liberties with the story. While it's known that Darger was obsessed with the murder of five-year-old Elsie Paroubek, it's unknown why, though there is some speculation that he may have somehow been involved in the child's death. It is also known that Darger spent most of his childhood in a mental home, and the book speculates on the horrific influence it may have had on him.

While these elements are fascinating, and the main reason I read the book, the surprising strength of the novel lies in its examination of the art world and how it creates and celebrates myth in order to sell art. It's look at grief and loss is also quite compelling as Nathan comes to terms with his daughter's death, and the realization that there was much he didn't know about her.

This is a great read for those interested in Henry Darger, but I feel my enjoyment relied heavily on my knowledge of the artist's life. I strongly recommend that readers research Henry Darger before reading Outsider, or if not, then definitely after finishing it. I worry that some readers will take this account as accurate, and therefore condemn Henry Darger to characteristics that may or may not be true. (My Pinterest Board of Darger art)

 (Elsie Paroubek/ Alice Liddell)

Fiction Friday (17)

Given all the paranoia and righteous anger stirred up this week about the government's invasive and illegal surveillance program, it seemed like a good week to catch up on reviews of dystopian teen novels. As we move closer to a future where most people have little hope of avoiding one of the endlessly covered scenarios laid out in fiction, it's probably good to study up and be prepared. Despite being written 43 years apart, the two books here grapple with the same overarching themes of a freedom and totalitarianism. Interesting that we always fear a loss of freedom when generally speaking, we grow more free with each generation.

The City of Gold and Lead by John Christopher
(MacMillan, 1967)

The second installment of John Christopher's science fiction dystopia series is far darker than its predecessor. Whereas the first book used the premise of a controlling, conquering race of aliens as a backdrop to discuss free-will and conformity, the second book is a powerful exploration of slavery and the master/slave relationship.

After Will managed to escape the Tripods and met up with the free people living in the Alps, out of the reach of the aliens, he begins training with the others working toward the eventual overthrow of the oppressors. His first mission takes him to the City of Gold and Lead where the masters live. Only the fittest young people are taken there to serve the aliens, and none ever come back. Will's mission is to go there to discover anything about the mysterious masters that might help defeat them, and then somehow escape.

One of the best aspects of the novel is the way this city is imagined. Reading it, you can almost feel its heavier gravity and sweltering heat, which compound the suffocating reality of Will's situation. The episodes of cruelty bestowed upon him by his master are powerfully written, as are the aliens attempts at friendship. John Christopher does an amazing job and describing a situation where a slave could come to feel for his master, and the strength it takes to resist the kindness of an oppressor.

Extremely compelling on many levels. (Click here for my review of the first book)

Matched by Ally Condie

(Dutton, 2010)

The premise of Matched doesn't differ much from many other dystopian stories. There are white uniformed Officials, representatives of some faceless authority, who monitor and determine every aspect of people's lives. This includes who each is "matched" with as a teen, matched being another word for mated in this situation. The officials carry the same level of dread as the firemen in Fahrenheit 451 as they confiscate forbidden objects and create a general sense of anxiety. While obeyed and respected, they are also subjects of the same level of distrust as a gentle occupying army. All in all, I thought the dystopian elements were very well done, however they really just serve as a backdrop for the love story which is truly the heart of the book.

Cassia, the girl at the center of the story, must choose between two boys, both of whom, of course, are loyal and good looking. Again, this set-up can be found in countless stories, and one presented so frequently these days in YA fiction, most notably in Twilight and The Hunger Games. The book spends much of its effort on the question of who she will choose. One is safe, one is dangerous. One is mysterious, one is familiar. But the real problem is that both are kind of too good to be true and the book spends way too much time on Cassia's dilemma of choosing between them, and making it way too clear which is the one she wants to choose. Sure, the idea is supposed to be that making any choice in a society where choices are always made for you would be difficult, and love especially so, but I still would have liked to see Cassia a little more decisive. Having choices made for someone doesn't necessarily make them indecisive, in fact, it has great potential to bring out the opposite in people.

Another problem I had with Cassia was in the attempt to make her a rebellious figure. Her defiance was in such passive ways, and typically not for reasons she believed in herself, but for a boy. She wasn't the strong kind of character that Katniss is, for example. That said, I did quite enjoy the seeing the cracks in this dystopian world slowly being exposed.

Overall, I did enjoy reading this book. It's definitely a page turner and certainly exciting enough to keep a reader's interest. However, I felt the dystopian elements were simply used as way of adding some twist to the love story. Unfortunately, the love story was far less interesting than the support used to prop it up.

Fiction Friday (15)

When it comes to literature, I tend to be a loyalist. If an author writes a book that moves me in some way, I make every effort to read their other works. I behave the same way when it comes to music. One great album will typically keep me listening to each new one, even after several terrible ones. I like to have faith in an artist. If there exists the ability to capture my imagination once, then there is always the potential that they could strike again. For this week's book picks, I chose two titles by authors who, at some point, wrote books that influenced me in different ways. These are titles read strictly based on their previous work, and both managed to succeed again. Enjoy.

The Boy and the Sea by Kirsty Gunn
(Faber & Faber, 2006)

This is a slim novel, which on the surface appears to have room to breathe the way Gunn's stellar debut Rain does. However, the story quickly grows dense. Like the sea it speaks of, the prose has a strong undertow, pulling you deeper into its own rhythm. As a result, this coming of age tale reads more like a free verse poem, in the same style as Gunn's The Keepsake and The Place You Return to Is Home. 

Like a lot of free verse, in the beginning it can be tough to find the right rhythm of the words, but once you do, it simply sings. Though the metaphor of the sea and time swallowing us up before delivering us anew, along with the main character Ward's feelings of isolation, is beautifully done, I think this title, more than her previous books, remains slightly vague. I couldn't help but feeling that I wanted just a little more from Ward. We see mostly his surface with only glimpses of what lies under the waves within him. There's a beauty in that, but a few dives into the water would have made this truly brilliant in my opinion. 

UnderSurface by Mitch Cullin

(Permanent Press, 2002)

This is not a novel for everyone. In some ways, I think that should be the preface of every Mitch Cullin novel, author of Tideland. Because though he writes with a stark and beautiful prose, he often addresses subject matter which deals with the fringes of human existence. UnderSurface is no different. This is a haunting portrait of the shadowy side of human sexuality, and the base desire that drives one to do something he wouldn't ordinarily do...and then to repeat it over and over until the thrill wears off and something deeper must emerge to take it's place.

At its most basic level, UnderSurface is a cautionary tale dealing with the dangers of suppressed desires finding secretive outlets. After growing less and less cautious about his illicit rendezvous, the man character finds himself in the wrong place at the wrong time and consequently loses everything. But it's Cullin's gift for storytelling that makes this story compelling, by allowing the mystery to unravel in bits and pieces.

On another level, this book is a challenge to morality, and what we consider right and wrong and the way those conventions push individuals into unsafe choices. But it is also about how those moral complexities create and breed darker desires within us, and how those desires can make us lose sight of what we truly value.

As I said, this book may not be for everyone, but it probably should be. We all have demons we must face through life. This is the kind of book that forces you to examine your own.

Fiction Friday (14)

It's a new year, and once again time Fiction Friday. On a sort of sad note. last week I planned on doing a special edition of Fiction Friday where I talked about all the books I read in 2012 that I absolutely loved, yet when I examined the list, I discovered there were only one or two books that I truly loved. I mean there were many that I enjoyed and though were well done, but almost none that I'll be talking about a year, or two years, or five years from now. I think part of that comes from the fact that I spent most of year catching up on unread books that have sat on my self for years. The good news is that the first book I started reading in 2013 is one that I absolutely love. In the meantime, here are two books that I did read last year that I thoroughly enjoyed.

Warriors #3: Forest of Secrets by Erin Hunter

(Harper 2004)

In a series that keeps getting better, Forest of Secrets weaves a near perfect blend of action and tension. While the first two books definitely nailed adventure surrounding Fireheart's induction into Thunder Clan, this addition captured the relationships between the characters in a way the other books didn't. 

There was never a dull moment in this book and some of the mysteries which began in the first two books were finally revealed. Each subplot, from the saga of Greystripe's kits to the development of Cinderpaw and Cloudpaw, were gripping and well written. Without a doubt I can say this book has made me a fan.

Warriors #4: Rising Storm by Erin Hunter

(Harper 2005)

With the fourth book of the original six book arc, Erin Hunter really hits her stride, creating the best book so far in the action packed series. Faced with new responsibilities as the Thunder Clan deputy, Fireheart struggles to keep his clan together. It doesn't help that Bluestar, the clan leader and someone Fireheart has always looked up to, is still reeling from the treacherous actions of her former deputy, Tigerclaw.

Every book in the series is, in some manner, a portrait of Fireheart's internal battles as he tries to follow the warrior code, gain the respect of the other cats, and yet remain true to himself. This installment is no different, only the stakes are much greater. Now the other cats in the clan are dependent on his leadership and the decisions he makes have consequences for all. In that respect, this book far out-shines the three previous books.

However, the real attraction for most readers of this series is probably the action sequences. Always well-done, with fast moving prose and intriguing twists, the bigger picture has always been the interaction of Thunder Clan with the other three clans of the forest and the constant looming threat of the "two-legs." There are many wonderful escapades in this story, including Cloudpaw's story, the return of Ravenpaw, the constant threat of Tigerclaw, and finally, the beginnings of a love interest for Fireheart. All-in-all, this is turning out to be an excellent Middle Grade series.

Fiction Friday (13)

Over the course of the past two weeks, I've read a number of books, due in no small part to the blackout post Hurricane Sandy. It's amazing how much faster one can read without the distractions of television or internet. With nothing but a flashlight by the fireplace, I tore through four books in three days. As a result, I now have quite a backlog of reviews to share and decided it was time for another installment of Fiction Friday. Today I've picked two books that couldn't be more different. However, I've always thought it important to stretch one's tastes in matters of art. Enjoy.

Dovey Coe by Frances O'Roark Dowell
(Simon & Shuster, 2000)

There are a lot of familiar elements in this book, the sum of which left me with the sense that I had read it before in various pieces in other novels. There are certain tropes which work well in Middle Grade fiction, particularly books geared to get the attention of librarians, and subsequently, awards committees. In that way, this book felt a little like those movies that are made with Oscar hopes in mind.

The novel follows Dovey, a spirited young girl defying social conventions and speaking her mind, in a southern accent, all things that award committees can't seem to resit. She lives with her family in the hills above town where she takes care of her deaf brother. More award bait. During the course of the story, the son of the town's wealthiest family establishes himself as Dovey's antithesis, though to be honest, that entire line of reasoning felt a little flimsy to me. As events transpire, the story turns into a slight mystery. The subsequent trial gives a nicely presented look at justice disparity between rich and poor, though once again, I couldn't shake the feeling that somehow I'd encountered all of these events before, most notably in To Kill a Mockingbird.

All in all, a very solid book for Middle Grade readers. Everything is well done and the story's themes are strong. It's a fast read and I enjoyed it...it just wasn't all that unique or original. 

The Counterlife by Philip Roth
(Penguin, 1986)

One of the things that always strikes me about Roth's work is the meticulous detail he pours into a story and its characters. The world in his novels is so fully realized and researched that they become immediately engrossing. The Counterlife is no different. It follows the lives of two brothers, one a successful novelist living in New York and the other a dentist from the New Jersey suburbs, both dealing with their Newark Jewish heritage in very different ways throughout the course of the novel. In many ways, this is a book about the changing identity of the American Jew and how that role relates to the Israeli view of Judaism. While the political and social investigation is fascinating, I found the books other theme to be far more intriguing.

As much as anything else, this is a book about how the novelist tends to write his or her own life, coloring the events of reality with fiction. This theme invades the narrative so effectively that several passages within the novel are immediately discounted later as the imaginative interpretation of the novelist character. By the end, the book shows how the writer's way of life affects those closest to him.

While this is a strong book, with many exceptional qualities, it wasn't a favorite of mine. At times it seemed to be weighted down by its own attempts at undercutting the narrative. And perhaps had the lives of the characters been more immediately relatable to me, I would have felt closer to it. Still, it's a fascinating and informative read.

Fiction Friday (11)

I couldn't let the month go by without setting aside at least one post dedicated to book reviews. As I've stated before, reading is such an important part of the writing process. What a writer reads, and how he or she interprets it, can shape concepts of style, narrative, and imagination. Often I think writers are drawn to very different books than readers, with the exception of ones just too brilliant to be ignored by either. I find it's the same way with musicians. Accomplished musicians always have these albums on their lists that, to me, are unlistenable. The musician hears something else, some level of technical playing that is masterful, but goes unnoticed to the average listener. Likewise, a writer can see something in a book that readers never look for. 

This week, I'd like to share two books that I've read in the last few months that I really enjoyed. Both are geared to an older middle grade audience, for readers not quite ready for the sometimes heart wrenching tone of YA books, but are ready to encounter the difficulties that arise when first coming of age. Hopefully everything I said at the start of this post doesn't apply here and anyone can find something to enjoy about these wonderful novels.

Bridge of Time by Lewis Buzbee
(2012)

There are some adventure stories that you race through to discover what will happen next and next and next after that and all the way through to the end. The joy of those books is satisfaction that comes with being done and knowing what happened. Then there are the kind of adventure tales Lewis Buzbee writes...where even though you're desperate to know what the turn of the page will bring, you can't help yourself from wanting to linger in the world he creates.

Bridge of Time is definitely one of those stories. One day, best friends Lee and Joan find themselves 'unstuck' in time after wandering away from their boring class trip. They end up in 1864, during the early formative days of San Francisco's past to encounter a city that is vastly different and yet still not totally unfamiliar. As they begin their journey back, they encounter a reporter who will one day became Mark Twain, and who, just like his beloved characters, has a knack for adventure.

Any time a story involves time travel, there is bound to be a lot of intriguing action, both past and future. I must confess that I love time travel stories and always have. I love pondering the puzzles they create. Because of the unique approach this story takes to the concept, there is no lack of things to ponder. In fact, there are so many deeper concepts in this book, hiding just under the surface, that I was still unraveling it for days after finishing it.

Besides the core adventure, the book is a poignant and honest look at divorce. It is also a fascinating and sometimes brutal examination into the history of San Francisco and the role racism played in its development. And by looking at Sam Clemens' transition into Mark Twain, the book subtly defends the ability of fiction to have as much of a social impact as journalism.

At the heart of the book however is the journey of two friends, struggling with the uncertainty of their future. Their fears and concerns are the kind that most middle school kids are all too familiar with. The true adventure is watching them grow stronger through it all.

The Extra-Ordinary Princess by Carolyn Q. Ebbitt
(2009)

To my surprise, I thoroughly enjoyed this book. I admit that I only picked it up at the bookstore because the jacket sounded like it would be good research for a project I was considering at the time...the beautiful cover didn't hurt either. But what I found inside the pages was a wonderful mix of fantasy and fairy tale.

Amelia is the fourth princess, born behind three sisters who all excel at one thing or another. Compared to them, Amelia feels ordinary. But as one might expect, as the story unfolds Amelia turns out to be anything but ordinary.

The plot follows a traditional fairy tale unraveling of a perfect life in a beautiful kingdom that is soon ravished by an evil and powerful figure. And in a cruel twist of fate, Amelia is left to save her home from this darkness. That isn't to say the narrative is without surprises. In fact, much of the story is unpredictable and takes clever turns throughout.

In addition to the wonderfully constructed fairy tale elements, the friendships of the young characters is very well written. I also very much enjoyed how impossible it was to pin down 'when' this story was supposed to take place. It didn't try to set the action in Medieval times, or make it some contemporary story either...it struck a nice balance somewhere in the middle that had a way of making the story belong to it's own world. 

I Like You, You Like Me

Lately I've been seeing a lot of book reviews that state the reader didn't like a certain title because he or she "didn't really like" a character. I wonder when it happened that we started to think we're supposed to like every main character or that every one of their actions is supposed to make us happy? Isn't an intriguing character supposed to challenge the reader...just as a book is supposed to (though that seems slightly out of favor as well).

Personally, I blame Harry Potter and other mega hits of our time for having an all too clearly defined sense of right and wrong, good and evil. In my experience the differences are often more blurred and characters, like people, are far more dynamic. 

If you're interested in hearing me discuss this and other such literary fluff, you'll have the chance tonight...provided you're in the L.A. area. 

TONIGHT ONLY: I'll be reading & signing @ Miss Nelson's Toy & Book Shop

1030 Bonita Ave.

LaVerne, CA 91750

Fiction Friday (9)

One of the best things about reading a long novel is the speed at which others seem to fall in its wake. Anyone else notice how much faster the next book goes down after trudging through some epic? Of course, none of that matters if you don't pick the right book to read. I've always felt that choosing the next book is a lot like creating a music playlist. Making awkward jumps can be unnerving. But sometimes I find myself ignoring those rules simply because there is something I've been dying to read. That's what happened last time I picked out a book. Needless to say, it didn't turn out too good. This latest book reminded me of another which I felt the same way about last year. I thought I'd share them both. Though neither really grabbed me, I think the 11 year old inside of me would have enjoyed both and therefore they are worthy of mention.

Un Lun Dun by China Mieville
(Del Ray, 2007)

When I first read about this book, I admit that a little drool formed in the corners of my mouth. To say a story heavily inspired by Neverwhere and Alice's Adventures in Wonderland is right up my alley would be an understatement. So when I got this book, I tore right into, only to find that while it may have been inspired by those other stories, it lacked their inspiration.

The story takes the main character, a young girl named Deeba, into an alternate version of London named UnLondon. This city is alive with a cast of intriguing characters including trashcan ninjas, half-ghosts, utterlings (words that come to life) and other ideas that play on Lewis Carroll's brand of nonsense. The problem is, nearly all of the imagination put into creating UnLondon feels overly forced. Much like the environmental message of the book, it is so heavy-handed that it seems to take the joy right out of the story.

Another obstacle preventing me from loving this book was my lack of concern for really any of the characters, especially the main character. The structure is partly to blame for this. The beginning fifth of the book or so, the author tries to get the reader emotionally invested in Zanna. And then, just when you do start to care for her, she's out of the story. Deeba, a character who is frankly terrible in the first part of the book, now becomes the one we're supposed to follow and cheer for. I think I never quite got over that switch or my initial dislike of her.

It felt clear to me while reading Un Lun Dun that I was encountering a gifted writer who was working outside his comfort zone. Rather than criticize, I'd like to applaud the risk even if the end result felt a little flat. But all of that said, there was still plenty of enjoyable moments, especially the well-paced action scenes. I also thought the Black Windows of Webminster Abbey were one of the most fascinating elements I've encountered in a long time. Overall, disappointing but entertaining.

Starcross by Philip Reeve
(Bloomsbury, 2008)

What this book does have going for it; lots of action, twists galore, and plot to spare. For a lot of people, that makes for a great book. And if plot is your thing, I would say this book wouldn't fail to entertain. I can see tons of readers falling in love with this book for that very reason...unfortunately, I wasn't one of them.

Overall, the book felt extremely forced to me. I found a lot of the imaginative elements to be contrived. There are any number of writers who try to capture inventive ideas, but few can make them feel effortless, such as Roald Dahl for example. I also thought the characters were very stiff and kind of unappealing. There's an obvious attempt to create a tongue-in-cheek meta-narration such as you find in the Series of Unfortunate Events books, but never quite achieves it to the affect those books do. And in general, I just found the writing style to be sort of clunky. However, that's a matter of personal taste in writing style.

I also had a huge problem with Myrtle. She has to be one of the most obnoxious characters I've encountered in years. Granted, she's supposed to be the annoying older sister. However, her anti-feminist, 19th century young lady spiel is so irksome and I certainly don't want her as the narrator of two lengthy sections of the book. I also couldn't help finding myself wondering how her attitude plays out in the minds of young readers, especially since the target audience of this series is, without a doubt, boys. There is nothing cool about any of the female characters in this book, those traits are all reserved for the male characters. Seriously? How uncool is that.

I hate being harsh on books, especially books that I did genuinely enjoy at parts, such as this. I loved the Doctor Who spacey sci-fi adventure nature of this book. I also think this would be a great book for a reluctant boy reader. But when I see a mediocre book that gets such high acclaim as this (multiple star reviews, year-end best lists, etc), it really bothers me.

In all fairness, my 10 year old self would more than likely give this book 4 or 5 stars. But editors and book review publications are not 10 years old and should've come out this with a more educated view in my opinion.

Criticizing the Critics

As any reader here probably knows by now, my new novel Life is But a Dream comes out next month. The first reviews are starting to come out in from the journals and they are mostly positive evaluations of the book. Normally, I'm not one to complain about negative things said of my work. I've never written for the typical reader and as a result, there are often people who don't appreciate the way I write. I'm fine with that. That said, there is one review that really bothers me:


Sabrina lives in a beautiful world that no one else can see. Whether it is fanciful colors in the sky or whole vistas, she believes in their power but cannot convince anyone else. Through a series of flashbacks while she is at the Wellness Center, backstories are revealed about a near-perfect childhood and trouble at school as a young adult. Separated from her parents and classmates, Sabrina is drawn to outspoken Alec, who accepts her dreams simply because they are real to her. Life Is but a Dream is a fast read with extensive dialogue and fantastic visual descriptions. Troubled Alec adds believable romance and danger when the young couple struggles to be together. Though Sabrina and Alec are strongly defined characters, their parents are simply overprotective and overachieving. Sabrina's parents do not see her issues stemming from schizophrenia—it would be too hard to admit that their perfect daughter is mentally ill. Alec's parents cannot conceive that their strong-willed teenager is simply rebellious, and search for a diagnosis to explain his behavior. The word crazy is not used often in the book, but seeing it twice on the cover seems judgmental, an automatic assumption that a neurological imbalance deserves scorn. Because mental illness is rarely discussed at home or school, Life Is But a Dream should have resources at the end to help young adults identify friends who might need help or to look for more information about schizophrenia. from VOYA

This review is actually quite positive, aside from the slight about the characters' parents, which naturally I believe to be an oversimplification. The struggle that Sabrina's parents go through is more than just denial. But, that's not what really irks me about this review. What really gets under my skin is the the critique in the final sentences about the word "crazy" and about the lack of resources in the back.

First of all, they are reviewing an Advanced Reader Copy of the book, which as a professional journal, they are fully aware that it is not final. For all they know, there are resources in the final book. And as a matter of fact, the line they point to on the cover has indeed been changed on the final book. That is why a review is supposed to focus on the content of the novel, not things such as tag lines on the cover and lack of back matter. These aren't critiques of the work I poured my soul into for a year, they are attacks on the marketing plan of the book. As an industry journal, I believe they should know better.

By the way, there is still time left to enter the contest to win a signed ARC. Details below:

Goodreads Book Giveaway

Life Is But a Dream

by Brian James

Giveaway ends March 01, 2012.

See the giveaway details
at Goodreads.

Enter to win

Fiction Friday (6)

As we get near the holidays, it's always good to provide plenty of reviews to allow us all to fill those wishlists. I wanted to share two classic children's novels from the 1800's and early 1900's that have all but been forgotten. The idea of forgotten books is one that upsets me, being that I will someday be the author of a few forgotten books. It's inevitable. Trends change and people always will have a need to hear stories from their generation. But I never understand the reader who only reads contemporary books. It's important to know the foundations of the current novel structure, especially as a writer. So I always try to read a few classics every year. Here are two that I read in the last few months. Both were Christmas presents last year, so it seems apt to share them now. Enjoy.

Veronica by Johanna Spyri

(1924)

This is a traditional cautionary tale about two children beset by tragedy early on, only to be given good fortune as they grow older and closer. However the two set out on different paths as they become adults. One is impatient to have all that he wants and falls victim to the negative influences of a friend who steers him toward ruin. Veronica, the other, is virtuous and hard-working, yet sorrow is never far from her thoughts. So they both have their lessons to learn, and as is the case with most books written in this time, they eventually find their way and come together again.

After reading the author's far superior and better known work, Heidi, I was disappointed in this short novel. Whereas Heidi felt very contemporary and timeless, this story is heavily dated in its Christian moralism. The characters were very flat, which surprised me given the depth of many of the characters in Heidi. All in all, it was okay, mainly because it was so slim. If it had lingered any longer, I'm not sure I would have enjoyed it. That said, it was an interesting read. Knowing that an author can write a classic that stands the test of time, yet still fail with others is inspirational for a writer in a way.

The King of the Golden River by John Ruskin

(1851)

Like Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, this is another Victorian children's book written solely for the entertainment for one child, 12 year old Effie Gray. The connection between the two books is furthered by a later friendship between Lewis Carroll and eventually the Liddles (Alice's family). Being a fan of Lewis Carroll's, and Victorian children's literature in general, this book was naturally a must read. It's a slim novella, easily read in one sitting, that adheres to a classical morality fairy tale about selfishness and compassion. The fantasy elements are truly intriguing and there are moments of beautifully lyrical writing. The illustrations add a nice quality as well. All in all, it's a well-done fairy tale.

Fiction Friday (5)

It's the end of the week and time to think about recent reads of the past. This week I wanted to share two books that I absolutely loved. Sometimes it's good to simply gush about things. Though I firmly believe in the benefit of critical reviews, I've been feeling there is too much negative energy floating around these days and didn't want to contribute to it by pointing out flaws I've found in other books. Instead, I want to talk about two books that did everything right in my opinion. I read both of these in the last month or so and they truly impressed me for completely different reasons. Enjoy.

Pictures of Hollis Woods by Patricia Reilly Giff

(Yearling 2002)

Written in a direct, forceful style, Pictures of Hollis Woods is one of those books that seizes the reader from the opening page. Hollis, a twelve year old girl who has spent her life shuttling through foster homes, is portrayed with heartbreaking accuracy. In fact, she will most likely break your heart on the first page with the first of many pictures she draws. She is a girl anxious to be loved, but terrified of getting too close, because whenever she does...things tend to go wrong. The book does an amazing job of keeping the characters grounded in a story that could so easily have become over analytical. It never strays from the raw emotion of a character who doesn't know her own worth. For some the story might be wrapped in too neat a package by the end, but it didn't bother me. Sometimes it's nice to believe that good things can happen to deserving people.

The White Mountains by John Christopher

(MacMillan 1967)

The story of a future inhabited by a mind-controlled population is one I've encountered countless times in various forms with different culprits such as nefarious governments, mass hallucination, or as is the case in The White Mountains, invading aliens. The strength of this book is that it made me forget all those others as I was reading. For the most part this is due to the powerful, subtle voice of the main character, a boy named Will.

In this vision of the future, people have built a safe, seemingly normal life in the ashes of the world we know. The only difference is the roaming tripod machines that lord over them by placing a 'cap' on each person once they reach adolescence. Before meeting a strange wanderer, Will had never imagined a life where he wasn't capped. But after hearing tales of a resistance group living in the Alps, he sets off to find them, and hopefully a life of free will.

This first book in a series chronicles three boys as they venture across France on their way to the mountains. It reads less like science fiction or fantasy and more like any other adventure tale. The relationship between the three is extremely well written. The characters experience the same emotions as any young teens in contemporary fiction, which goes a long way to making the extraordinary elements of the plot feel more grounded. With so many dystopian novels out there these days, this is an old one worth revisiting. It reminded me of The People of Sparks in some ways. A wonderful book and I can't wait to read the others.