Friday, February 24, 2017

Review of "The Way Back to You"

"It was her wish that if she lost her life, she might save others."

     In The Way Back to You, Michelle Andreani and Mindi Scott tell the story of two relative strangers brought together by the same loss. It has been six months since Ashlyn Montiel perished in a bicycle accident, leaving behind an enormous circle of friends and family but also donating her organs to save countless lives. While Cloudy understands this, it doesn't make coping with the loss of her best friend any easier. She can go a month without slipping up, then find herself turning to ask Ashlyn a question--except Ashyln isn't there. Worse off is Kyle, who lost more than his girlfriend when she died. In the months since her passing, he's grown listless and tired, losing interest in everything he once thought he loved. When Cloudy finds the list of Ashlyn's organ recipients, it seems only right that she and Kyle should take a trip to see them. Maybe it'll help them get over last year's terrible mistake and finally heal--or maybe it'll make everything worse.

     Claudia "Cloudy" Marlowe and Kyle Oci have one of the most beautiful relationship arcs in recent young adult fiction. Thanks to a mistake Cloudy made a year ago, the two people who loved Ashlyn most can barely stand to look at each other, but they're willing to try again for her sake. As they journey down the West Coast of the United States, these teens explore the depths of their grief, learn to help each other cope with their pain, and start to come to terms with the implications of Ashlyn's absence. Though this is ostensibly the story of a dead girl's friend and boyfriend working together to heal, beneath the surface it is also the tale of two people with so much shared baggage that fixing their relationship seems nearly impossible.

     As the plot is centered entirely around a grand road trip, the protagonists find themselves in a variety of richly detailed locales, each well-written and incredibly realistic. Whether it's a boardwalk, an empty theme park, or the back of a hippy van, there is always something new and exciting to experience. Of course, with that comes a great deal of trouble. Bad memories, rude friends, spiked sweets, and ghosts from the past all rear their ugly heads over the course of the novel, even as Kyle and Cloudy catch glimpses into the lives of the people Ashlyn saved through her donations. West Coast residents may recognize some of these places, adding fun Easter eggs for readers familiar with the region. Those who live elsewhere, though, will have no trouble picturing them.

     Cautious readers have little to fear going into this tale, with its generally clean language and its lack of violence. The themes are well-balanced, the characters tangible and relatable, the romance subtle and respectful of the context in which it occurs. During a weird interaction with some old friends, one of the characters accidentally consumes spiked food; this is not celebrated, and has a serious impact on the rest of the plot. Throughout the narrative, Kyle toys with the concept of reincarnation, even going so far as to befriend an animal who reminds him of Ashlyn. He also reminisces to the reader about his relationship with Ashlyn. Once, a protagonist is disturbed to find two classmates on a secret rendezvous at the local church.

     I would recommend this book to teenagers and young adults interested in a story about love, loss, grief, and moving on from tragedy. Michelle Andreani and Mindi Scott have a way with words, weaving together estranged classmates, the death of a friend, crushes, nosy family, and an adorable pet to form a road trip of epic proportions. With its strong themes and beautiful romance, this work takes a look at everything from the stages of grief to what it means to grow up. For great worldbuilding, positive messages, and a lovely cast, The Way Back to You deserves five stars.

Friday, February 17, 2017

Review of "The Marked Girl"

"They came for him in the middle of the night, the way that cowards do."

     For the heroes of The Marked Girl by Lindsey Klingele, ordinary life is just a fantasy. Liv Phillips would give up a lot of things if it meant getting out of the foster care system that ruined her life. Come to that, she'd give up a lot to ensure the fire that left her and her estranged siblings orphans had never happened--and not her fault. This is real life, though, and she plans to make the best of it by making the greatest movie she can with a summer film program's equipment, some blood packs, and a realistic plastic sword. That is, until Cedric, Kat, and Meric crash through a portal and onto her set, steal her sword prop, and take off into the busy LA streets. And until she finds them squatting in a public building, hiding from monsters disguised as men. Cedric and his friends need to get home and save their kingdom, and they need Liv's help to do both, but opening another portal will take magic they don't have--and a price they may not be able to afford.

     Liv is the kind of heroine adventure tales adore: orphaned, with an irresponsible foster parent who doesn't keep track of her whereabouts. The only people who care about her are her best friend and her case worker, the latter of which can easily be avoided when she puts her mind to it. Meanwhile, Cedric, Kat, and Meric are also on their own, desperate to return to their kingdom yet trapped in a world of cell phones, airplanes, and infamous Los Angeles traffic. Together, this foursome are a formidable team well-equipped to face down the otherworldly monsters that stand in their way, as well as the monsters' shadowy leader. That is, as long as Cedric remembers swords aren't allowed on public transit.

     However, no amount of preparation can protect these daring teenagers from the terrible injustices thrown their way by the prose which shapes them. Within these pages, Liv and her compatriots face disasters such as slow pacing, a forced romance, stale character arcs, bland worldbuilding, and poorly foreshadowed plot twists. The adults who crop up are intelligent and engaging, though most are also neglectful, unkind, or downright evil. The villain remains cloaked in mystery until the climax, as befits the plot, and readers who don't read too much into early conversations may easily find themselves shocked when they discover who has it out for this little band of heroes. Pay enough attention, though, and many of the plot twists will come as less of a surprise.

     Despite these setbacks, the premise supporting this story is extremely intriguing and its contents generally suitable for consumption by young audiences. The only thing that might raise eyebrows is a particularly heavy scene between two of the protagonists, which features a lot of kissing and the timely interruption of an elegant piece of jewelry. Pre-readers should note that one of the romantic partners is already betrothed to another character, setting the stage for a strange and highly confusing love triangle. Violence is straightforward and just as free of graphic content as the language used, which is to say quite. The monsters the kind of scary that gives one chills without threatening to keep one up at night, suiting this novel extremely well.

     I would recommend this book to teenagers looking for a simple story about an ordinary girl who must save a group of strangers by sending them to another world. There's action, romance, and an unusual sort of magic, all set to the tune of Los Angeles' busy urban atmosphere. Unfortunately, the writing style is less than ideal, the characters barely change over time, and the romance is less than swoon-worthy. On the other hand, the plot is interesting and there is a very real chance these people may never make it home, so there are still plenty of reasons to read on until the end. For twists, turns, high stakes, and daring to bring a fantasy world into our own, Lindsey Klingele's The Marked Girl deserves a solid three stars.

Friday, February 10, 2017

Review of "The Host"

"They've never seen a grown human before."

     In Stephanie Meyer's The Host, the near-extinction of the human race doesn't stop people from going about their daily lives. In fact, after a soul has inserted into their new human body they are often known to continue on as though they were the host. The only difference is that conflict no longer exists: there are no wars, no arguments. Not even the human minds fight back, though their memories remain. At least, that is how things are supposed to go. For Wanderer, a nomadic soul with a long list of planets under her belt, inserting into Melanie Stryder's body shouldn't be a problem. Searching Melanie's memories for information on the few surviving human insurgents should be simple, because Melanie is gone. Dead, faded, whatever. Which begs the question: if Melanie is gone, who is trapped inside her head? And why is Wanderer suddenly in love with a man she's never met?

     There's something strangely beautiful about the relationship between Wanderer and Melanie and the way it transforms over time. Though they share a body, they have extraordinarily distinct personalities and ways of looking at the world, and those worldviews clash often. Wanderer is a pacifistic parasite; Melanie is a fierce woman willing to fight for the people she cares about, even when she's supposed to be dead. Melanie is strong enough that Wanderer cannot access the information she needs, creating tension between them, and between Wanderer and the other souls, that is ripe for conflict. This is only amplified when Melanie's strong attachment to her family and boyfriend begin to rub off on Wanderer, creating the most bizarre love triangle in history.

     Despite this ideal setting for drama, there is one thing working against the plot: the souls themselves. Disturbingly friendly and altruistic to a fault, these nomadic aliens abhor confrontation and violence--a trait which sets Melanie on edge even as she works to convince Wanderer to abandon the souls and save her family. Only one soul is tenacious enough to count as a true antagonist, and even she is not as menacing as she's meant to be. Thus it falls on the underground human community where Melanie's loved ones live to provide the main conflict. And while there are some problems--fits of frantic action and resentful distrust--the hunt for and entanglement with these people is dulled by Wanderer's relentless pacifism and passive narrative voice.

     Slow pacing and unfortunate lack of gripping plot aside, there are a few pluses to this unusual novel. For one thing, the relationship between Wanderer, Melanie, and the humans is at the least intriguing and at most fascinating. The girls go through an internal arc of change that's encouraging to behold, which is mirrored somewhat by the people with whom they surround themselves. There is little violence and even less gore, save one scene in involving souls and in which no humans are harmed.Add in a clean vocabulary and this is one story pre-readers shouldn't have a problem with. However, Melanie's relationship with her boyfriend has a few intense moments, and while nothing beyond kissing takes place this places Wanderer in a rather awkward predicament...especially when she picks up an admirer of her own.

     I would recommend this book to patient audiences looking for a fresh perspective on alien invasions. Not only are the alien "souls" wildly different than all other interpretations, but the main character--a soul herself--is quickly thrown into a complex world of love, friendship, betrayal, resistance, and a desperate struggle for peace. While Wanderer's clumsy navigation of the human world is slow-paced and narrated in a deceptively passive tone, her unpredictable journey and unexpected connection to her human host make this a tale to remember. For beautiful aliens, an original cast, and a fresh exploration of what it means to be human, The Host by Stephanie Meyer deserves three stars.

Friday, February 3, 2017

Review of "Carve the Mark"

"I guess he hadn't known his fate."

     For the heroes of Veronica Roth's Carve the Mark, fate is the one thing in the galaxy a person can never escape. No one knows this better than Akos, whose mother is an oracle capable of seeing every possible future. She knows the places where these possibilities overlap, situations that cannot be avoided no matter what else is changed. Which means she knows Akos is destined to die in service to the family Noavek, who rule the brutal Shotet nation beyond the field of feathergrass. It also means she knew the Noaveks would have him and his brother kidnapped--and that she did nothing to stop it. Two seasons after his capture, Akos's currentgift lands him a job soothing Cyra Noavek's pain, a side effect of her own brutal currentgift. He wants nothing more to get his brother out of Shotet--but the longer they remain, the more dangerous escaping becomes. Not because his fate, job, or currentgift make him a target, but because Cyra has plans of her own.

     Cyra and Akos are polar opposites whose circumstances force them to become similar. Akos, for example, loves peace and living in harmony with his neighbors. His currentgift--which, like everyone's currentgift, formed as an extension of his personality--allows him to bring a fraction of that peace to the most pained young woman on the planet. However, the warrior-culture of Shotet has no tolerance for such a lifestyle, forging him instead into an impressive fighting machine. Meanwhile, Cyra has lived with pain her entire life: first from strained familial relations, and later from her currentgift, which allows her to hurt others but which wracks her body with continuous agony. Cyra is a warrior by nature, a blade honed to a wicked edge, yet Akos may show her that war is not always the wisest path to take.

     There is no one word to sum up this tale. It is at once fast-paced and patiently slow, a story of rebellion and of mending bridges, a romance and a desperate choice between family and justice. Cyra is not the good guy; however, she walks a fine line between good and evil, longing to learn the difference so she can make the right choice. As she and Akos become gradually more aware of each other's culture, both the ups and the downs, they come to question everything they were taught about their planet and the galaxy as a whole. And as each plot line gives way to the next, rising and crashing like waves against a shore, our heroes come to realize that while fate can't be avoided, they are responsible for how they reach it. Through sojourning to other planets, partaking in rich cultural rituals and terrifying arena duels, and facing a wicked dictator, these two unlikely companions must breach a web of deception to stand up for the people they love--no matter the cost.

     As with most good stories, this work contains a few details that may concern certain audiences. What for Cyra and Akos begins as a platonic master-servant relationship quickly escalates into a friendship between equals, though this encourages eager gossips to speculate on whether there is more going on behind the scenes. Although there are a few instances where one protagonist is exposed more than they'd like to the other, neither presses an advantage and the relationship remains strong, healthy, and respectful. The romance goes no further than kisses. More worthy of caution is the violence, as fights within the Shotet's gladiatorial-style arena can be quite brutal, though not graphic. Shotet also mark their arms to honor people they've lost, a tradition some readers may find alarming despite its honorable intention. At one point, a character is painfully disfigured. While everyone has a gift derived from the galaxy-spanning "current", there is no magic.

     I would recommend this book to teenagers and adults looking for a delicious, insightful read about sworn enemies whose partnership changes the way they see the galaxy. Veronica Roth has created a delightfully vivid world of intrigue, shifting alliances, space travel, and understated superpowers unlike any that have come before. Set against this stunning backdrop, Akos's struggle to save his brother and Cyra's hunt for morality take on a weight worthy of their tasks, yet that weight is insignificant next to each's fierce dedication to seeing the other succeed. While a couple of Shotet traditions may shock sensitive readers, the heart of this novel is beautiful to behold. For a gorgeously detailed setting, deliciously complex characters, and a plot that grabs the imagination and refuses to let go, Carve the Mark deserves five stars.

Monday, October 31, 2016

Review of "Dinosaurs Before Dark"

"This is what he got for spending time with his seven-year-old sister."

     So thinks a protagonist of Mary Pope Osborne's Dinosaurs Before Dark, a time-bending journey that springboards two ordinary kids into a whole series full of adventures. Eight-and-a-half-year-old Jack is tired of his sister's creative antics. Annie loves all things magical, inventing monsters to chase her down the street while her wise older brother rolls his eyes. There's nothing Jack would like more than for Annie to just grow out of it--until she discovers a tree house full of stories in the woods beyond their house. Allied by their curiosity and love of all things literature, the two kids explore the tree house and as many titles as they can get their hands on. But it's not until Jack makes a wish that they're swept into the past, to a world full of terrifying dinosaurs. The time for games has passed; if they want to make it home alive, they'll need to find a way now. And yet...surely it wouldn't hurt to take a teeny look around. Just for a minute.

     There's something innately enchanting about the world Osborne has created. From the innocent peace of Frog Creek, Pennsylvania to the roaring, stomping creatures Jack and Annie accidentally bump into with their tree house, it only takes a few sentences to immerse readers in the fantastic settings. Although the prose is extremely concise, the brevity speeds up the plot to a rapid clip that adds just the right amount of tension. Whether Jack is fumbling for his glasses or Annie is slipping away at the wrong moment, readers are sucked into the story, feeling every twist and turn, experiencing it all with every sense they have.

     Annie and Jack are not the most rounded of characters. Their personalities are vivid and rigidly defined, and develop very little from chapter one to The End--though the latter is due in part to the story's shortness. Yet the wonderful thing about these kids is that they are decidedly unpredictable. One never knows when Jack's knowledge of dinosaurs or history will come in handy, or when his sister will decide to do something crazy. These skills, combined with the magic tree house and a mysterious memento, set the duo up for some serious adventuring in the sequels, which will undoubtedly lead to subtle character development.

     As this story was written for kids, parents don't need to worry about inappropriate content. Jack and Annie don't swear, and while they face a huge T-Rex and other scary creatures there is no gore. The bond they share is a constructive brother-sister dynamic; even if they annoy each other sometimes, Annie and Jack obviously love each other. Since the siblings are the only human cast members in this installment, there is no romance.

     I would recommend this book to kids looking for a tale of magic, make-believe, and historical monsters brought to life with a simple wish. While grown-ups may find it boring, the prose does a great job keeping younger readers on their toes. It also explores the legends of the dinosaurs, throwing brother and sister directly into their midst. For an exciting premise, fun characters, and an absorbing world, Mary Pope Osborne's Dinosaurs Before Dark deserves five stars.

Friday, October 28, 2016

Review of "The Jewel"

"Today is my last day as Violet Lasting."

     For a few special girls in Amy Ewing's The Jewel, free will is little more than a memory. Violet Lasting hasn't seen her reflection in four years, since the day she tested positive for the Auguries and was drafted as a royal surrogate. Tomorrow, she will be auctioned off to a sterile Duchess. She'll carry her lady's child. Then, her task complete, she'll retire in style with the rest of the cast-off surrogates. But her mistress has bigger plans than motherhood, plans that include the magical Auguries Violet is so good at. Plans that will destroy what's left of Violet's life and those of the people she loves. When a chance to escape lands in her lap, Violet will have to choose: save her friends and secret boyfriend, or make a break for freedom and learn to fight back? Each option will have consequences. And no matter what she decides, someone is going to lose.

     The Lone City in which this tale plays out is fascinating in its scope. Rings upon rings of walled-in sectors divide the island kingdom into class-based neighborhoods with various production specialties, though workers often commute between them. In the center of it all is the Jewel, where the Exetor, Electress, and the Royal Houses live in elaborate palaces and engage in subtle political wars. Unfortunately, royals cannot bear children, so they purchase surrogates to do that for them. The twist? Surrogates are skilled in the Auguries, which give them the ability to manipulate the Color, Shape, and Growth of anything they choose. Every aspect of this world, from its political system to its magic, is well thought out and firmly constructed, breathing life into what would otherwise be just another dystopia.

     Even though the story is centered around Violet, she is not alone in the world of the surrogates. Her lady-in-waiting, Annabelle, is a kind, supportive friend who isn't supposed to know Violet's name. Raven, a surrogate from the training compound who happens to be Violet's best friend, is a spirited girl with a will of iron and a heart of gold. Then there's Ash, the handsome companion hired to straighten out the Duchess's wayward niece. While their relationship falls squarely under the insta-love category, the bond between Violet and Ash is a strong one that plays a pivotal role in the plot. On the flip side is the Duchess herself, a fearsome woman whose mood is as unpredictable as royal politics. Even as hints at a larger conflict begin to reveal themselves, she possesses an aura of menace that pins the plot down and snarls, no, you may not steer off track. It's impressive.

     Over the course of the novel, very few things show up that justify forewarning. Foul language is nonexistent. Violet and her fellow surrogates are auctioned off to the wealthiest people in the Lone City, who treat them as property and take them out and about to show them off. The Duchess who buys Violet deprives her of her name and doles out physical punishments for disobedience. None of this is graphic; however, every once in a while surrogates are attached to leashes. Violet falls in love with a hired companion soon after they meet, and eagerly steps up their relationship as quickly as she can--though that last bit is skimmed over and far from detailed. At one point, a surrogate is killed to send a message. The tension is low and the pacing slow, so readers who dislike edge-of-one's-seat thrillers should find this story more appealing.

     I would recommend this book to teens looking for a story of quiet rebellion set in a beautifully textured world where forced surrogacy is just as everyday as magic. Violet and her friends are scattered across the Lone City, a land woven in equal parts from wonder and horror, and will have to make sacrifices simply to survive. The antagonist is vicious and wonderfully wicked, with a commanding presence that sends chills up one's spine. Unfortunately, the insta-love between Ash and Violet brings the greatness down a couple of notches, because while it contributes to the story it is simply not believable. There's also the slow pacing and relatively low tension to consider, although this is the start of a series that may end up with plenty to spare. Overall, Amy Ewing did a great job with The Jewel, which deserves three stars.

Monday, October 24, 2016

Review of "Dash & Lily's Book of Dares"

"I've left some clues for you."

     From Rachel Cohn and David Leviathan comes Dash & Lily's Book of Dares, in which Christmas, absent parents, and a red notebook change the lives of two teenagers forever. When Dash finds a notebook full of riddles at a store called the Strand shortly before Christmas, his hard-won interest is quickly piqued. Its author, a girl named Lily, has asked him to fill in some blanks and leave the notebook with the clerk, along with his email address. In a fit of rebellion, Dash leaves a note instead, sparking an epic scavenger hunt around the vast snow-covered sprawl of New York City. Every day, one of them will hide the notebook somewhere strange for the other to discover, updated with personal and existential questions that face-to-face acquaintances wouldn't dare ask. As they grow closer, though, they have to wonder: can they handle meeting in person, or is their relationship better off written down? And then the choice is taken out of their hands.

       This is exactly the kind of quirky, fun romance that likes to lurk in the back corners of a store. Thanks to a couple of lies and two estranged parents, Dash has ensured he's alone for the holiday season. Lily, on the other hand, is stuck with an older brother who's more interested in his boyfriend than in hanging out with his bored-to-death sister. Her parents are in Fiji, her grandpa's off proposing to his girlfriend, and she has no friends--not even a dog to talk to. What starts as a halfhearted attempt to socialize during Christmas quickly transforms into an outlet for Lily's and Dash's innermost thoughts, observations, and fears. From the shopping mall's Santa meet-and-greet to a wax museum and a stranger's front yard, they explore their city together in new, bizarre ways, and make certain to never take themselves seriously.

     Dash and Lily are incredibly unique individuals with full-fledged lives beyond the notebook. Dash is a Christmas-hater; Lily recently organized a short-lived caroling group. Lily is the goalie for her soccer team, while Dash would probably be content reading alone for the rest of his life. Despite their differences and distinctive personalities, though, the two are somewhat flat. It's as though the roundness of a brilliant character was spread evenly among the entire cast, so that supporting characters and protagonists alike can glow magnificently for a scene or three and then fade into words on a page for the rest of the tale. This in turn influences the tension and stakes, as conflicts which affect a two-dimensional character either don't ring true or don't carry much weight.

     Given the nature of the central relationship, it's not surprising that this novel doesn't ring many warning bells. When it does, it's a halfway thing. For example: cursing is almost nonexistent, with the sole exception of the F-bomb, which is used fairly often. Romance doesn't progress beyond kissing, yet the protagonists seem to get a kick out of making readers think things are about to escalate frighteningly quickly. They also enjoy pushing each other into awkward situations, such as a creepy Santa's lap and a nightclub for Jewish rock bands. Lily's brother spends most of his December holed up with his boyfriend, and has no interest in hiding why. On the plus side, all of that happens off the page. Violence is kept to a minimum.

     I would recommend this book to anyone looking for a fun, quirky read about a young couple genuinely enjoying each other's company despite having never met. Their red notebook goes everywhere, followed closely by adventures these ordinary teens would never have dreamed of without it. This fun, debatably clean romance is well-written and entertaining, and although the cast could use a little more dimension every character shines in their own unique way. For a fun premise, a grand adventure, and two engaging protagonists, Rachel Cohn and David Leviathan's Dash & Lily's Book of Dares deserves three stars.