Review of "Thirteen Reasons Why"

"I hope you're ready, because I'm about to tell you the story of my life."

     Thirteen Reasons Why, a young adult novel by debut author Jay Asher, is all about suicide. When his classmate and long-time crush, Hannah Baker, takes her own life, Clay Jensen is heartbroken. He's trapped in a world turned upside-down, memories of their single kiss haunting his every step. As time passes, he can't help but wonder whether there were warning signs he ignored, hints at the darkness stirring within her. So when a box of audiotapes filled with Hannah's voice appears on his doorstep, it's impossible for him to stop listening. Throughout the night, Clay listens to tape after tape, following a map to the sites of all of the tragedies leading up to her fatal decision. Each tape is aimed at a single person, unraveling their facade before his very eyes. Somewhere in those tapes is his name--which means that, without realizing it, he contributed to her death. And he's terrified to find out how.

     Asher has a beautiful writing style. Clay and Hannah have distinct voices soaked through with emotion and realism, marking them as unique individuals with their own lives and histories. Hannah's voice follows Clay everywhere, from the cassette player in his garage, to his friend's house, to the playground where she had her first kiss. Every once in a while Clay will pause the tape, a transition signaled by the appearance of the "pause" button on the paper. This also occurs with the "play" button. Rather than interfering with the narrative's natural flow, adding these symbols evens out the pacing and smooths the otherwise ungainly transitions.

     There is, however, a downside to Asher's method of telling Hannah's tale. While Hannah Baker is a tragic figure--and, debatably, the true protagonist--we don't get to know her very well as she lays out her story. She tells Clay how she started on the road to depression, who contributed to it, and why she finally decided to put an end to it all. He, in turn, reacts with various levels of horror, anger, and despair. But we never watch her argue with her parents, read a book, or interact with her boss when she works in the school office.The pacing is maintained with breaks in Hannah's narration rather than lighthearted moments unaffected by the looming finale.

     Thirteen Reasons Why deals with some heavy subjects, and it follows that there are more than a few potential triggers between its covers, not all of them relating to depression and Hannah's fate. Through listening to the tapes, Clay learns about horrible events in his community, from guys taking advantage of girls to an accident leading to a neighbor's death. There's a moderate amount of profanity, plus a strong emphasis on the consequences of rudeness and inaction that runs through the entire work.

     I would recommend this book to older teens looking for a well-written novel about understanding a girl who gave up on life. Jay Asher crafts the setting and plot quite nicely, filling in little details that make the scenes stand out. The underlying themes are also very well-done. However, his debut is littered with scenarios the trigger-sensitive may wish to avoid, and the loss of Hannah Baker is somewhat diminished by the distinct absence of her pre-depression personality. Add this up and you've got a good book that, though lacking in the uplifting-messages department, is difficult to put down. Therefore, I grant Thirteen Reasons Why three stars out of five.

Review of "The School for Good and Evil"

“What happens when Good becomes Evil?”

     Today’s title, Soman Chainani’s The School for Good and Evil, takes a look at the true nature of Good and Evil. When twelve-year-olds Sophie and Agatha are kidnapped from the little town of Gavaldon, they know exactly where they are headed: Sophie for the School of Good, where she’ll become a fairy tale princess, and Agatha for the School for Evil, where she’ll learn potions and spells that will turn her into a fairy tale villain. When Sophie ends up in Evil’s moat and Agatha is thrust into a pink pinafore, they are determined to set things right. But there is more to this school than meets the eye, and if the girls aren’t careful they could be expelled—or worse. Now Sophie must decide how far she is willing to go to obtain her Happily Ever After, while Agatha determines just how much she’s willing to give up to help her.

     The School for Good and Evil is a beautifully written book. With grand landscapes, a sweeping plot, and original, complex characters, Chainani’s little tale is stuffed to the brim with greatness. Sophie is fascinating to read about, with her pretty pink dresses, desire to be Good, and determination to do whatever it takes to become a princess. Agatha stands as a sharp contrast, not because she hates princes or lives with a potion-loving mother but because she stands tall despite her circumstances. Their friendship may have a rocky road ahead of it, but they are dead-set on maintaining it. The love these children possess for their best friend is not only admirable—it ties the story together. When that love is put to the test, the conflict that ensues practically guarantees the pages will keep turning, no matter the hour.

     Chainani inspects both sides of his mythical school with incredible depth. Over the years, the School for Good and Evil has gradually degraded. Although the princes- and princesses-to-be have become more vain and selfish, they always manage to win school-wide competitions. Evil students, resentful of Good’s continual triumph, put little effort into dominating that side of the school. Meanwhile, the teachers struggle to maintain balance between the two sides. Nothing is as it should be, so when Sophie and Agatha are assigned to the wrong schools, everyone begins questioning the School Master’s judgement. If they are to switch schools—or, as Agatha desires, go home—they must prove beyond doubt that they do not belong. But as the situation grows worse, the girls begin to wonder if the School Master was right after all.

     There is plenty of action to be had at the School for Good and Evil. In the School for Evil, wicked classmates plot the demise of a fellow student even as they turn rat leavings into candy. In the School for Good, a morose little girl has to figure out a way to return home without getting killed by gargoyles. And in the class where both sides mix, everyone must work together to learn how to survive the predator-infested forests of their future fairy tales. While there’s no cursing or explicit content, Sophie’s quest for Goodness involves some heart-pounding scrapes with death, ridiculous self-help lessons, and rhinestone-studded uniforms designed to attract princes. Throw in a dash of irony, a handful of exciting plot twists, and a sprinkle of dramatic character arcs, and you’ve got a narrative that is quite impossible to put down.

     I would recommend this book to anyone, young or old, who wonders if heroes and villains always deserve their respective roles. Sophie and Agatha are wonderful characters with plenty of heart, spunk, and willpower. The worldbuilding is fantastic, as is their mission to escape the confines of their predetermined roles. With its action, conspiracies, and unpredictable plot, Soman Chainani’s The School for Good and Evil is irresistibly spellbinding. It deserves five stars and a place on every reader’s bookshelf.

Review of "What's Left of Me"

"No one used my name anymore."

     Kat Zhang's What's Left of Me considers a thought-provoking question: what happens if two girls lived in the same head? Being a hybrid is dangerous, as Addie and Eva well know. If someone hasn't settled by the age of five--if their recessive soul hasn't disappeared forever--doctors, counselors, and specialists are called in. For years, Addie has lived a normal life, keeping Eva's continued existence a secret while her twin soul watches through her eyes, haunted by a life she can no longer touch. So when Hally and Lissa, a hybrid girl from their new school, tell Eva they can teach her to regain control of her body, Eva is ecstatic. Determined to give her sister a second chance at life, Addie does all she can to help. But when the world says hybrids can't live among them, they mean it. If Addie and Eva are to survive, they must befriend the very people they once scorned and embrace a part of themselves long left untouched.

 

     Eva's tale is fascinating. Trapped inside her own head for four years, she's had time to learn the difference between children's souls and contemplate everything she's lost. When she finally gets the opportunity to live her own life, she changes dramatically, finding a voice for herself and making her own decisions. Not all her choices are good, but they all shape her personality and fate into things worth reading about. Addie's character arc is fascinating as well, as she struggles alongside her sister even as she adjusts to the sudden shift in her reality. Though they share a body, the girls are completely different individuals, adding another great dynamic to the plot and premise.

     What's Left of Me has a very distinctive style of prose. Eva refers to parts of her body as "ours", and takes Addie into account for nearly everything. Although the world around her is not described with a great deal of color, this alternate America is quickly shaped into a realistic environment. The villains are intriguing because they are a mix of "misguided" and "evil", cementing their realism and rounding them out. Plenty of supporting characters are flat or static, but not enough to impede the plot. Despite everything they go through and all the horrors they face--from threats against their brother to unpleasant institution heads--Eva and Addie manage to cling to their morals from page to page. They also refrain from cursing and, for the most part, resorting to violence, a fact that is portrayed quite well. There is a slight romantic touch, but it is very light.

     I would recommend this book to anyone who wants a story about two girls sharing a mind, a body, and an intimidating enemy. Addie and Eva's quest for a full life is exciting, a three-hundred-odd-paged adventure soaked through with emotion, power, and hope. Between the world and the love these sisters obviously have for each other, Kat Zhang has captured a brilliant premise that fits neatly with the plot. She may not describe the settings much, but what she does describe is worth it. What's Left of Me is a great book heading a strong, well-written trilogy and deserves four stars.

Review of "The Young World"

"For the most part, people had done their dying inside."

     In Chris Weitz's The Young World, only teenagers survived the apocalypse. When the Sickness swept across the planet, adults and children alike fell, leaving their siblings and children to fend for themselves. The Sickness isn't gone, though. When someone turns eighteen, or gets close to it, they come down with a terrible cough and soon find themselves dead. Jefferson's brother, Washington, leads a small tribe living in New York City's Washington Square. But Wash is almost eighteen, and when he passes Jefferson knows he'll be expected to take control. So when his friend Brainbox decides to visit a distant library branch to hunt down a lead on what caused the Sickness, Jefferson jumps to accompany him. Accompanied by Donna, the girl he loves, and two other oddball teens, he and Brainbox embark on a journey that may end up saving the human race. Assuming, of course, they survive the first couple of blocks.

     Donna and Jefferson are complete opposites. She's habitual and cautious; he's thoughtful but daring. Though Jefferson's love for Donna appears at first to be a subplot, it quickly grows until it has taken over more than its fair share of the plot. Yet there is something likable about Jefferson. He thinks and acts so deliberately, considering his words and his circumstances before he speaks. Though he does make some incredible mistakes, he is relatable enough that it isn't extremely difficult to forgive him. Donna is a different matter. She pretends she is only tagging along to keep her friends safe, and has no interest in saving the world. In reality, she has much deeper motivations, but by the time they are revealed--or not revealed, as the case may be--she is already so angsty, annoying, and generally unlikable that readers' care-o-meters may have run frightfully low.

     Plot-wise, this tale has little to go on. These Washington Square tribesmen set out on a hunt for a scientific article and end up running from shooters attacking them for the fun of it, battling bloodthirsty zoo escapees, and fleeing from cannibals. There isn't a lot of rhyme or reason to the foes they face, but their journey is definitely well-paced and nowhere near short on action. Everything happens for a reason; there are no superfluous scenes. Still, it would have been nice if the characters had started out with a plan, even if they ended up abandoning it.

     Though there are a great many gunfights and a few fistfights, there isn't a whole lot of gore in The Young World. Aside from a bit of blood and a few broken bones, most characters escape trouble with little more than a few scrapes and bruises. However, the profanity is cringe-worthy, and the protagonists have several run-ins with a large group of adolescents that take advantage of whatever girls they find, even going so far as to purchase more from other tribes. Readers should also note that Weitz's story is open-minded, incorporating a variety of faiths, lifestyles, ethnicities, and sexualities, dealing with them openly rather than skirting around the topics.

     I would recommend this book to teenagers interested in a world where survival is uncertain, hope is scarce, and the future of humanity depends on the uncertain shoulders of five determined teenagers. There's action, romance, and strong world-building galore. What there isn't is a likable love interest and a structured plot--the Washington Square tribesmen wander in the general direction of their destination, unsure what, exactly, they will do when they arrive. Coupled with the language and the antagonists' inexplicit but obvious female-objectification, this knocks Chris Weitz's novel down a points. However, The Young World is built on an interesting premise and hosts a cast of overall fun characters, earning it three stars out of five.

Review of "The Secret of the Old Clock"

"But I guess a fight to break the will would be hopeless."

     The Secret of the Old Clock, Carolyn Keene's tale of incredible sleuthing, turns a regular girl into a master detective. When eighteen-year-old Nancy Drew sees a young child lose her balance on the side of a bridge, her only thoughts are ones of pure terror. She rushes to the child's side and, with the help of the girl's two concerned aunts, cares for her until she wakens. It is then that the elderly aunts explain their predicament: money is running out, their seamstress days nearly over as they struggle to raise little Judy without any income. Their only hope was the will of the late Cousin Josiah, but to their great surprise it appears to have excluded them entirely! Convinced the most recent copy includes the Turner aunts, Nancy sets out on a quest to recover it and return prosperity to their little family. If she can find the will, she'll be a hero; but she may find that sleuthing is easier said than done when the object of her search is in the hands of criminals.

     Nancy Drew is a tough, powerful character with plenty of heart, no matter what edition of The Old Clock is read; though the adventure was originally published in 1930 and revised in 1959, the fundamental story remains the same. The difference between the two versions of Nancy lies in her levels of risk-taking and her underlying motivation, but in the end it doesn't much matter. Nancy is strong-willed and lovable, even if she is more charitable than is always relatable. With the help of her gossiping friend Helen Corning, she embarks on a noble quest to help the less fortunate. Helen and her fellow supporting characters remain fairly static throughout the novel, as does their young sleuth friend. This is rather disappointing, though the story is short enough that the lack of character arcs is understandable.

     Keene's writing is what makes this title a children's story. Though Nancy is eighteen, she and her friends are clean-mouthed, fair, and as pacifistic as they can get while hunting down unpleasant villains. The narrator's vocabulary is simple without being patronizing, a feat many children's authors find difficult to accomplish. The action is intense not because it is gory or violent, but because it takes place just when the stakes are at their highest.

     I would recommend this book to kids and tweens interested in a powerful young detective with a big heart and a desire to make the world a better place. Though the Turners' tragedy is brought to light quite abruptly and Nancy's character transforms very little over the course of the narrative, the plot surrounding her is interesting and exciting. Readers willing to overlook the prose's strong leanings toward young folk will find themselves wrapped up in a great mystery headed by an ordinary girl with a talent for charming her way into her audience's hearts. For adventure, suspense, and an intriguing plot, Carolyn Keene's The Secret of the Old Clock deserves three stars.

Review of "In the After"

"I've learned to live in a soundless world."

     In the After, Demitria Lunetta's thrilling YA tale of apocalyptic survival, takes place in a world where the smallest sound is a death sentence. Amy Harris was watching television when They came--vicious, human-shaped aliens who hunted mankind almost to extinction. Three years later, she and Baby, a child she rescued in the early days of the After, are some of the only people still alive. She and Baby are silent, communicating through a modified version of American Sign Language to avoid drawing attention from Them. Together, the two scavenge for food and hunker down within the safety of Amy's childhood home, surrounded by an electric fence provided by her late mother's paranoia. One fateful day, Amy and Baby stumble upon a colony of survivors who have managed to build a life for themselves. But these people aren't everything they seem, and if Amy isn't careful, she could end up dead. Or, worse, she could lose Baby forever.

     Amy Harris is a brilliant character. She's strong, fast, and deadly silent, surviving confrontations with competitive neighbors and terrifying encounters with Them. Yet, somehow, Lunetta manages to prevent her from becoming too good at what she does; she makes mistakes, and pays for them, as do those around her. In the After, everything is a life-or-death risk, something that is portrayed extraordinarily realistically. Baby is also fascinating, with her quirks and almost haunting quietness. When a girl who uses her mouth to talk barges into the story, the ripple effects are grounded in logic. And when the people of New Hope arrive on the scene, Amy and Baby's reactions send the narrative into a new, equally powerful plot with its fair share of chilling moments.

     Though Amy narrates her story, how she tells it is constantly in flux. Sometimes she'll retreat into a memory of Before They came, or interweave the present with the very recent past. While this can seem a little strange at times, it makes sense in the end and is never confusing. Otherwise, the prose is perfectly paced, easily balancing action and rest without losing hold on the tension for even a sentence. There aren't very many plot twists, but the ones that do make an appearance are truly game-changing shocks.

     This is not a children's book. Although she doesn't go into great detail on Their feeding habits, Amy often takes note of three-year-old bloodstains and moments when the creatures feed. A few minor characters die at the claws of Them, which is understood to be gory but mostly left to the imagination. Characters swear very rarely, kiss, and violently prevent others from taking advantage of them. That aside, however, the romance is clean, minor, and manages not to interfere with the characters' mental functions, as it does in other tales.

     I would recommend this book to teens and adults looking for a chilling apocalyptic world where the danger is very real. Amy is a great character who is easy to relate to and sympathize with, even when she has to make hard decisions that could easily render her unlikable if it weren't for her motivation. Baby serves as a wonderful anchor and companion, contributing a surprising amount to the already-solid plot. For thrills, an amazing cast, and a frighteningly real apocalypse, Demitria Lunetta's In the After deserves five stars.

Review of "A Wicked Thing"

"Whoever wakes the princess up with a kiss--they're destined to get married and live happily ever after."

     Rhiannon Thomas' A Wicked Thing deals with the part of fairy tales storytellers rarely talk about: what happens after true love's kiss. When Princess Aurora wakes up, a hundred years have passed. As was foretold, she pricked her finger on a spindle the night of her eighteenth birthday--and now a prince she has never met is pressing his lips to hers in order to break the spell. Her family, her guards, and the world she knows are gone, lost to time while she slept. Prince Rodric claims they are destined to live happily ever after. But when Queen Iris makes a point to limit Aurora's free will as much as possible, she begins to doubt the royal family's motives. With the help of a charming bartender and a cunning politician, the Sleeping Beauty must choose which part to play--the dutiful princess, the rebel, or something else entirely.

     Thomas' writing is extraordinary. She paints Aurora and her situation almost effortlessly, giving readers insight into her innermost thoughts even as she learns to traverse a world where everything is foreign. Her family is dead, her limited freedoms tossed aside. Customs, etiquette, and fashion have transformed dramatically. Although the princess is being torn apart by grief and confusion, she has no time to mourn; with the people hungry for her happily ever after, she must don a new, socially malleable persona that grates against her free-spirited nature. And that's not all. A rebellion is brewing, thirsting for royal blood, coupled by a new threat that lurks in the shadows. Celestine, the witch who cursed her, is not dead, and she wants something very specific from Aurora--something the princess may not be strong enough to give. By expanding on every angle of the Sleeping Beauty's new life, Thomas brings forth a world that is realistic, lead by a character who is extremely sympathetic.

     Aurora is not the Briar Rose we know from Disney's charming animated movie. She doesn't swoon over princes, discuss dreams with fairy guardians, or sing to animals. This Aurora is a strong-willed girl who is tired of fear and predetermined destiny. She wants to run through the woods, explore the city, and marry whoever she wants. The only trouble lies in the fact that she doesn't know what to do with her willpower; she bends to the queen's decrees with little more than an "It's not fair!" This can be frustrating at times, though it makes things a tad more realistic.

     Aside from Aurora, several characters populate this tale. Prince Rodric, her "true love", is a shy boy who wants to do great things, though he isn't exactly swoon-worthy; his sister, Isabelle, is curious and playful. Queen Iris and King John are both powerful characters with their own internal struggles; and Tristan, an intriguing bartender with a mysterious past, is incredibly relatable. There is a bit of romance that is left woefully incomplete, despite its great construction. There is little violence, minimal gore, and a distinct absence of profanity. The plot twists are startling, but, many are left mostly undeveloped, which is sad because some of them are extraordinary.

     I would recommend this book for anyone who has ever wondered what happens after The End. Aurora is a strong, relatable protagonist whose life has been flipped upside-down, and the way she handles things is worth turning the pages. Though the romance is short-lived and some of the the plot twists could have been expounded more, Rhiannon Thomas' prose shapes her story beautifully. A Wicked Thing is wonderfully complex and believable, despite its faults, and deserves four shining stars.

Review of "Mockingbird"

"The whole town is upset by what happened."

     In Mockingbird, author Kathryn Erskine takes a different perspective on loss. When Caitlin Smith's brother is killed in a school shooting, everyone is devastated. Family members she barely knows visit to express their condolences and offer support. But for an eleven-year-old with Asperger's Syndrome, it's just too overwhelming--people offering her candy and asking for information she's already told her school counselor, like how she's feeling. Devon's room is locked up tight, and his Eagle project sits unfinished in a corner, covered in a lonely white sheet. What she needs is closure, and Caitlin is determined to get it...for herself, for her father, and for the entire town.

      Technically speaking, Mockingbird is classified as a young adult book, but that's not the way it reads. Erskine's character feels like she's eleven, with her simple view of the world and the way she all but idolizes her older brother. Her Asperger's is also apparent, and though it's not the point of the story, it is beautifully depicted in a way that is easy to understand. She sucks on her shirt sleeve, avoids eye contact, and expresses her opinions bluntly, all for reasons that make sense when seen through her logic. When Caitlin learns about closure, she becomes fixated on it, searching for something to do in order to obtain it, a quest that sets her on a path to overcome her fears and mature a great deal. Readers may very well find themselves rooting for her as she faces challenge after challenge, cheering her on until the end.

     But she can't do this alone. Despite being anything but a team player, Caitlin soon finds herself enlisting the help of her father, counselor, a teacher, and a couple students to find closure in the wake of her brother's death. Erskine doesn't go into detail on the shootings, only on the aftermath--the way the shooter's cousin is ostracized, the line of faces expressing condolences, and the expectation that time will heal even the most painful wounds. Caitlin's mind gives the narrative a narrow but fascinating filter that tones down the drama without minimizing or trivializing her loss.

     I would recommend this book to tweens looking for a story with a new perspective on the mourning process. With clear, straightforward writing that makes Caitlin's Asperger's seem just as real as the world around her, Kathryn Erskine gives her protagonist roundness and depth. In a world torn apart by grief, Caitlin's quest for closure is relatable to readers young and old. For beautiful prose and powerful insight into overcoming loss, Mockingbird deserves five stars.

Review of "Alive"

"I am trapped in the dark and something is biting me."

     Scott Sigler's YA novel Alive plunges a twelve-year-old girl into an adult body and throws her straight into danger. When M. Savage wakes up, she doesn't even know her own name. What she does know is that instead of waking up to a home-cooked birthday breakfast, she is pinned to the bottom of a lightless box. When she escapes, she is in a room full of coffins just like hers, each with a name inscribed at the base. Taking on the identity "Em", Savage breaks five more kids out of their coffins in the hope that they'll know where they are, but it soon becomes evident that these twelve-year-olds are older than they think, and will have to live up to their newfound age if they are to survive. The Grownups aren't coming to rescue them. If Em and her friends don't escape on their own, they may never see sunlight again.

     Sigler's writing captures Em's predicament perfectly. Strong-willed and terrified, Savage is truly a child in a young woman's body--she thinks like a kid, acts like a kid, and talks like a kid. When the lives of five other "children" on the line, Em shoulders a great responsibility in order to ensure everyone's safety. She takes risks not because they excite her but because they need to be done, and follows a combination of logic and common sense to make her way toward what she hope is the way out. These weights cause her to gradually mature inside, transitioning from helpless innocent to battle-hardened leader over the course of little more than three hundred pages. Her internal development is simultaneously subtle and tangible, making Em a character easy to root for.

     As for the rest of the cast, Sigler has no qualms about numbers. The size of Em's group waxes and wanes, adding and subtracting sympathetic, engaging characters with each shift. Sadly, however, despite the number of boys she encounters, male characters in this novel tend to be stereotypical. One is a mule-headed hunter driven by single-minded determination, while another is content to do as he's told and provide emotional support as necessary. While this detracts a good deal from the story, a hint of realism is buried within each troubled soul who appears on the page.

     Alive is relatively well-paced. Countless hours of trekking through the eerie corridors outside the coffin-room are coupled nicely with stomach-churning discoveries, action scenes, and startling plot twists. Violence doesn't crop up very often, and when it does it has just the right amount of gore to be realistic without going overboard. Since Em is a very logic-driven character, such scenes are not usually super emotional in that desperate, swept-up-in-the-moment sort of way. Still, when horrors strike, readers may very well find themselves satisfyingly engaged. Also present are common swear words the teens occasionally let slip and occasional romantic references. While side characters sneak off to be alone together, Em sets aside her minor attractions in the name of getting the job done. At one point, certain supporting characters go about shirtless; this is not described in great detail, likely because it disturbs Em on a fundamental level.

     I would recommend this book to mid- to older teens interested in a strong female protagonist who will do anything to free herself and her companions. It's intriguing premise, promising characters, and powerful action add up to a great story that is, at times, almost chilling. Though M. Savage's head overrules her heart when making decisions, she is a highly sympathetic protagonist with an arc to watch out for. Sadly, her more masculine companions don't play a very big role, which will hopefully be remedied in the upcoming sequel. For a compelling plot, an interesting cast, and mysteries that keep readers on their toes, I award Scott Sigler's Alive four stars out of five.

Review of "The Testing"

"According to law, not presenting oneself for The Testing is a form of treason."

     Joelle Charbonneau's The Testing takes every student's fear of school to the extreme. When no one in her graduating class is selected for The Testing, Malencia "Cia" Vale is crushed. Now she'll have no choice except forge a simple life in Five Lakes Colony, the tiny community eking an existence out of the ruined land surrounding the former Great Lakes. Then government official Michal Gallen arrives to escort her and three of her classmates to Tosu City, the United Commonwealth capital, for Testing. What Cia doesn't know is that The Testing isn't only probing her knowledge of history and art--they're testing her survival skills and her ability to make decisions under extreme stress. Her fellow students are nothing more than competition. If she is to survive The Testing, Cia must choose who, if anyone, to trust. And according to Testing rules, if she chooses incorrectly, the punishment is death.

     The Testing is built on a relatively strong premise. Hundreds of years ago, the world went through Seven Stages of War that tore the planet apart. Now, a handful of small colonies under one government are all that is left of civilization, at least in North America. With resources so limited, only a select few are allowed into the University, where they are trained to make the world better. In order to decide who is accepted, competitors are tested on their knowledge, problem-solving skills...and ability to kill. For some reason, the United Commonwealth has decided that great leaders must be willing and able to eliminate their competition by any means necessary, all but encouraging candidates to resort to sabotage and acts of violence to rise to the top. The reasoning behind this is never fully explained, leaving a gap in the worldbuilding that is, at times, difficult to overlook.

     Often, it is the author's writing style that makes or breaks a book. Sadly, Charbonneau's short, usually comma-free sentences dice her story up into choppy bits that are too small to allow readers to enter her world. The Testing's setting is intriguing, its characters even more so: a pair of boisterous twins; a shy, artsy girl; a childhood acquaintance who wants to be more than friends; and a strong, capable protagonist who is determined to succeed. Thanks to brief sentences and a surprisingly small amount of dialogue, these great characters are left almost completely undeveloped by the time the story is over.

     Cia and her friends may be wrapped up in a life-or-death school exam, but that doesn't make them monsters. Cia is polite to everyone, even her enemies, and very rarely allows a curse to slip past her lips. That doesn't stop others from hurting her or those around her, or prevent the countless deaths that are constantly narrowing down the Testing pool, though. Candidates participate in tests that are sure to make readers think, and run into chilling creatures that shouldn't exist, as the story progresses. Each encounter results in greater injuries than the last, but there is little in the way of gore.

     I would recommend this book to teenagers interested in a battle for survival narrated by an extremely capable protagonist who always thinks one step ahead. Cia and her fellow candidates are smart and relatable teens living in a fascinating world where education is a future worth fighting for. If it weren't for the jarringly terse prose and lack of dialogue, this could be a great tale. As it is, Joelle Charbonneau's The Testing stands at three stars.

Review of "The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe"

"You are in fact Human?"

     In his high fantasy novel The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, author C.S. Lewis explores a magical land deep in the throes of a hundred-year winter. When Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy Pevensie are shipped to the countryside to escape the World War II air raids, they recognize at once that they are extremely lucky. The professor whose house they are visiting is a distant, if kindhearted, old man who lets them do as they please, and their only source of grief is Mrs. Macready, the housekeeper, an irritable woman who insists they stay out of her way during her guided tours. One day, while exploring the mansion, Lucy steps into a large wardrobe. On the other side is Narnia, a forested world up to its neck in winter. When she returns, no one will believe her--but when the siblings are forced into the wardrobe to avoid one of Macready's tours, they are swept up in a war that has been brewing for a hundred years and is terribly, frightfully personal.

     Although Lewis employs a writing style in The Lion that many modern critics would consider "outdated", whether or not that is true is irrelevant. With his bare-bones descriptions and storyteller air, Lewis perfectly captures the themes, era, and setting of the Pevensies' lives. They start out in twentieth century England and soon fall headfirst into another world outside our own time, where an ancient prophecy foretells of an epic battle between heroes and the forces of evil. Lucy and her siblings aren't knights, and they don't have to be; when the enchanted winter cast by Narnia's tyrannical ruler begins to crumble and the true king returns to restore his kingdom, the Pevensie children find ways to utilize their natural talents to aid the war effort.

     The protagonists in Lewis' little tale are surprisingly complex. Sure, they aren't jumbled messes of tangled emotions, but each struggles with his own issues throughout the narrative. Lucy, for example, must face down a trio of older siblings who insist she pulled Narnia, with its fauns and conscious trees and other fantastic creatures, straight from her imagination. The responsibility of keeping their younger siblings safe weighs heavily on the minds of Susan and Peter. And Edmund is confronted with perhaps the hardest trial of all when he meets the White Witch, queen of the realm, alone and without hope of guidance. Each is a fully formed character capable of standing on his own, though they are better off together. Each has a story arc that is, if not always dramatic, at least fulfilling. And they are all sympathetic, which makes the tale that much more absorbing.

     While The Lion contains some Christian themes, it is suitable for children and families of any faith, or lack thereof. A major figure's sacrifice and eventual triumph are reminiscent of Christ, but nothing is heavy-handed or preachy. All else--the battle between good and evil, the fairy-tale creatures who greet our heroes around every corner--is similar to what one would find in any other fantasy novel. Violence is relatively mild, and while profanity doesn't make an appearance, characters occasionally insult each other.

     I would recommend this book to tweens and older children interested in an adventure story with magic, believable characters, and solid themes tucked between the pages. Lucy, Peter, Edmund, and Susan are cast into a world where anything is possible, from conjuring food out of snow to a heartless betrayal. While it isn't the earliest chapter in the Chronicles of Narnia according to the timeline, this title is written as a series opener and fits the role perfectly. For magic, worldbuilding, and good morals, C.S. Lewis' The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe definitely deserves five stars.

Review of "Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children"

"I had just come to accept that my life would be ordinary when extraordinary things began to happen."

     When it comes to Ransom Riggs' Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children, "peculiar" is definitely the adjective of the day. Jacob Portman is a fifteen-year-old misfit who hates his rich, boring life. When he was little, stories of his grandfather's childhood exploits had him yearning to become an explorer; now, with Grandpa Portman on the decline, he only pities the old man. Grandpa's overactive imagination, which once transformed his horrific childhood as a Jew during the Second World War into tales of monsters and magical children, has him convinced those monsters are real and very, very near. When Grandpa dies a mysterious and gory death, Jacob decides to honor his final request by visiting the island orphanage where he grew up. The only problem? The orphanage is in ruins, the children and headmistress long dead. But as Jacob explores the ruins, it becomes apparent that nothing here is normal--and the children may still be alive.

     In Miss Peregrine's Home, photographs are as important as prose, and almost as common. Between pages of floating, invisible, and otherwise peculiar children and Mr. Portman's despair over his ornithology failures are photos documenting them. These are real-life images that have been scanned into a computer and printed directly onto the page--an intriguing new form of illustration. However, it's almost annoying how often these pictures are mentioned; the word "photo" appears almost as often as "I" and "you", and there are moments when they seem almost pointless, as though the author adjusted the story unnecessarily to allow space for the image within the narrative. Still, they add a neat, quirky touch.

     Jacob's character is complex, full of ups and downs that shape him into a fairly realistic person. The problem lies in his general unlikable nature and his emotional distance from the reader; Riggs often tells us what he is feeling rather than showing it. That doesn't deter Jacob from diving headfirst into a mysterious, interesting, and absorbing plot, though; he ventures from city to village to bog, from modern-day Florida to a timeless island that is quite literally full of magic. Along the way, he befriends several kids with peculiar attributes, who help him not only uncover shocking secrets about Grandpa's past, but also discover a hidden strength he would never have suspected he possessed. The romance, when it comes, feels forced and awkward, especially given the circumstances in which it occurs. The love interest is a great character, though, well-rounded and full of strength.

     Though this story isn't very violent, it has its fair share of gore. From Grandpa's torn-up carcass to a man's sudden death at the hands of a bullet to the brain, blood and guts are relatively commonplace. The author does achieve a delicate balance between graphic and over-the-top, but there is still enough detail involved that handing Miss Peregrine's Home to a younger reader is not recommended. Also note-worthy is the language; while F-bombs are avoided, other words of equal strength are used regularly, and there are one or two crude references. Romance-wise, however, Jacob's story is clean as a whistle.

     I would recommend this book to older readers searching for an interesting story about a boy whose quest to understand his grandfather may very well change the world. Ranson Riggs' world is intriguing, filled to the brim with quirky characters and fleshed-out locales. Though there is a plenty of foul language and a good deal of gore, this is mostly balanced out by the ever-moving plot. The photographs featured lend the account a haunting, surreal air that really captures the spirit of the tale and inspires speculation on how the images were achieved. Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children may not be a must-read, but it is definitely one to watch out for. It deserves four peculiar stars.

Review of "The Giver"

"It was almost December, and Jonas was beginning to be frightened."

     In Lois Lowry's The Giver, everything is regulated. Newchildren are cared for by Nurturers until they are assigned to their family units, and receive certain possessions--stuffed toys, buttoned sweaters, bicycles--as they age. There is no color, music, or love. For twelve-year-old Jonas, nothing is more exciting than the upcoming December Ceremony, where he will be assigned his full-time occupation. What Jonas doesn't know is that he will not be a Speaker, a Caregiver, or even a Street Cleaner; he has been chosen as the next Receiver of Memory, an occupation that is given out only once in a lifetime. As the community's Receiver, Jonas will absorb memories from his predecessor of everything their founders left behind. But Jonas soon realizes that while history contains some horrifying tragedies, some things are too important to forget--and some wrongs are worth risking everything to right.

     Lowry's writing style is both gripping and deceiving. Her prose appears to be geared toward younger readers, uniquely filtered as it is through the eyes of a twelve-year-old boy. Don't let that fool you, however--The Giver is intense, full of shocking discoveries and imminent dangers many children may find to be "too much". That isn't to say the book is unsuitable for consumption. Though a child, Jonas is observant, complex, and sympathetic. He is determined not only to fulfill the duties of a Receiver, but to ease the pain of the previous Reciever, known as the Giver, while also enjoying a normal life with his friends and family. As he uncovers more and more secrets about his supposedly perfect community, it becomes achingly obvious such a life is one he can no longer experience; not when he knows what his people are missing and must not tell them. Not when the life of someone he cares for is on the line.

     Needless to say, Jonas's character arc is dramatic. He starts out as a strict rule-follower, a model citizen who rarely questions the laws of the community. By the time the novel reaches its end, he is a different person entirely--a strong, empowered young man with a heart for innocent victims. It is a relatively short story, but the journey is long and well-developed. Jonas is a great character in a fantastic, incredibly realistic world. Though the ending is rather strange and the action is minimal, The Giver is full of tension as our hero struggles to reconcile his newfound knowledge with the community he thought he knew. There is no language to be concerned about, and the only potential flag-raiser as far as romance goes is Jonas' first attraction to a girl, which is quickly treated with a pill and is a source of much logical consideration throughout the tale.

     I would recommend this book to anyone looking for a chilling dystopian tale featuring an extraordinary young protagonist who longs for liberty. Jonas and his story are well-rounded and well-crafted, set in a world that is painted with brief, detailed strokes. Though it was originally intended for children, teens and adults are almost certain to enjoy it as well, despite the queer ending. Lois Lowry's The Giver may not have action or romance, but it is one of a select set of books that truly makes readers think--about their morality, our current world, and the numerous possibilities for the future. It deserves four stars.