Review of "Ender's Game"

"I thought you said you liked this kid."

     In Orson Scott Card's Ender's Game, the end of humanity is at hand. Andrew "Ender" Wiggin is a Third. Legally speaking, he shouldn't exist, but the government saw potential in his older siblings and authorized his birth. Then, after six long years of work, his monitor is removed--and with it, the only thing that makes him special. Without the device planted in the back of his neck, he is nothing more than an embarrassment to his parents and a victim to his brother. That is, until a man in an International Fleet uniform sweeps him away to Battle School, an elite space station that turns kids into alien-blasting soldiers. The administration has high hopes for Ender, and through him, the world. But that doesn't make him the teacher's pet. Nothing is handed to him except trouble, and if he wants to survive, Ender will have to give as good as he gets--and risk losing who he is in the process.

     Ender is an extraordinary child. By the age of three, he had already mastered arithmetic; now, he hacks into the school's electronic desk to make messages march in front of the other students. When a bully tries to pick on him, he makes sure the boy never does so again. Even as a kid, he sees strategy everywhere, understands the fullest implications of zero gravity, and can hold his own in a fight. Battle School only amplifies this. As he ages, Ender learns to navigate the tricky society of child soldiers that represents the future guardians of the earth. He discovers new ways to win battles, both as a soldier and, eventually, as a commander. Yet his empathy, the very thing Battle School frowns on, transforms him from a cold-hearted soldier to a deep, complex human being who only wants to live in peace with his friends. That is, assuming they survive until graduation.

     Aside from Ender, though, the characters in Battle School are not exactly dynamic. Each possesses a specific set of traits that, though they might improve or degrade, remain more or less the same. Back home, though, the other Wiggin children are up to no good. While the misdeeds of Valentine and Peter Wiggin do not play an extraordinarily large role in the plot, they have a life of their own and serve to break up the tension at exactly the right moments, without losing the sense of life-or-death conflict that makes Ender's education so addictive a read. Because of their time in the spotlight, Valentine is greatly expanded upon and deepened to become quite the lovable heroine, even as she makes difficult choices that will affect the rest of her life. Even Peter, psychopath though he is, becomes a little sympathetic as he fights to change his future.

     Battle School is a brutal place. Within hours of enlistment, Ender is cut off from any hope of friendship with his fellows. When his team goes to the Battle Room or takes a class together, they make it their goal to ensure he is miserable. Add in hand-to-hand combat courses, viscous war simulations, and twisted fairy tale video games, and it wouldn't surprise anyone if Ender hated the place. Except he doesn't. Though the losses hurt, the victories lend his heart wings. Against all odds, he forms powerful alliances that could eventually lead to friends. And when the administration throws another variable his way, some part of him secretly relishes the challenge. No matter how discouraged he becomes, readers are sure to cheer him along every step of the way.

     That being said, the grown-ups at Battle School don't joke when they call themselves the bad guys. From the very start, when Ender is six, to the end of the novel, the administration does its best to set Ender up for failure. In their minds, this is the only way to shape him into the military leader they so desperately need. Their form of education leads to multiple bloody fights and a couple of deaths, each detailed just enough to turn the stomach without becoming pointless gore. Ender's video game also turns gruesome on occasion, though it plays a critical role in his internal development. While older students may make mildly suggestive comments and uniforms are optional in team dorms, romance itself is not present. Language is intelligent and generally mild, though humans have adopted a somewhat crude term for their enemies. Genocide is discussed and plays a big part in the plot.

     I would recommend this book to adults and older teens who want a strong, compelling read where the protagonist is wickedly smart and wise beyond his years. Young as he might be, Ender Wiggin is a brilliant boy with great potential, and the grown-ups at Battle School are only too willing to take advantage. While he goes off to become an officer in the International Fleet, his siblings are up to their own trouble, a subplot that is surprisingly consuming. In the end, the troubles plaguing our hero could make or break him, and the fact that either is equally likely is enthralling. Orson Scott Card's Ender's Game is a breathtaking read that is not to be missed, and as such deserves five stars.

Review of "Struck"

"The end of the world is at hand."

     In Jennifer Bosworth's Struck, the apocalypse has already devastated Los Angeles, California. At least, that is what Rance Ridley Prophet, cult leader and televangelist, proclaims on his daily report. According to Prophet, the earthquake that has devastated LA is only the beginning of the actual Biblical apocalypse. Seventeen-year-old Mia Price knows better, though her mother doesn't. The earthquake that destroyed Mia's home and left her mother mentally unstable was nothing more than a natural disaster, the same way her unnatural addiction to lightning strikes is a result of bad luck. When a rival cult tries to recruit Mia for an upcoming war against Prophet, she runs into an even bigger problem: all those lightning strikes she's endured have come with a price. And Prophet wants to collect.

     Struck walks a dangerous line, striking a balance between focusing on Mia's mysterious addiction to being struck by lightning, a romance with a boy with ulterior motives, and the cults who want her on their side--or dead. For the most part, this is done well, though there are times when Prophet's claims go a little over the top. Interestingly enough, while Prophet isn't actually the man of God he claims to be, he does have power, and he plans to use it for terrible deeds. But those opposing him may not be as good as they claim, either, which leaves Mia with a difficult choice and no chance to back out.

     This version of Los Angeles, or what is left of it, is extraordinarily detailed in a bare-bones way. We are told the way things are, the way they look and feel, without a great deal of description on Mia's part. Somehow, this manages to form a clear, cohesive image of what her world is like. Similarly, the plot is fast-paced and sleek, every subplot important to the overarching structure, with no extraneous characters or truly unimportant scenes. Overall, this makes for an interesting read that is certain to hold attention well.

     Swearing isn't a big problem in Struck. While there is a bit scattered throughout, it is generally low-level--aside from a single use of the F-bomb. Violence, on the other hand, poses a bit of an issue at times. Gore is generally kept to a minimum, if it is present at all, but there are still plenty of fights throughout the novel. Readers should keep in mind that Mia has an affinity for electricity, the effects of which are not all that pretty. Aside from Prophet's twisted version of Christianity, religion is not brought up. The romance is limited to heartfelt kisses, though more is suggested as a possibility once all the trouble with Prophet is through. At one point, an older gentleman tries to take advantage of a teenage girl, with less success than he'd like.

     I would recommend this book to slightly older readers interested in a world where a lightning addict is the only thing standing between a false evangelist and the real apocalypse. The villain is evil, the plot well-paced, and the characters intriguing. While not the most gripping of reads, Jennifer Bosworth's Struck is well-written and holds onto a reader's attention well, earning it four out of five stars.

Review of "Me and Earl and the Dying Girl"

"I don't know how to live a normal human life."

     In Me and Earl and the Dying Girl, author Jesse Andrews takes a new perspective on cancer. Seventeen-year-old Greg Gaines, a high school senior in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, has figured out the perfect tactic to avoid being picked on. All he has to do is "get in" with every social group at Benson High. If he's on good terms with everyone, they won't flick ketchup at his head--right? But this plan is shattered when his well-meaning mom tells him that Rachel Kushner, a girl he hasn't talked to since Hebrew school, has been diagnosed with leukemia. Suddenly, Greg is expected to spend time with a girl he barely knows, who is fighting a war he can never understand. And when his grades start dropping, Greg's entire future is threatened. In the end, Rachel and Earl, Greg's best friend, are the only ones who can help him through this mess--and they have problems of their own.

     Greg introduces his fictional biography with a classic warning: put down this novel. According to him, nothing good can come from reading the story of his time with Rachel Kushner. She certainly didn't make his life any better or more meaningful--if anything, he's worse off now that she's gone. And with that, the hook is planted. Though he tries to hide it, it is obvious from the start that Greg is deeply affected by Rachel's passing, and we are given the impression that, despite his insistence to the contrary, his tale will be dedicated to telling readers why. The setup is so clear and heartfelt that it is almost natural for the illusion to be immediately shattered.

     The shift is subtle at first: a continuous shift in narration styles, a tendency to focus on what Greg wants or feels instead of how it affects others. Then, when he meets Rachel, everything becomes crystal-clear. However noble his mom thinks this quest to befriend a dying girl, Greg considers himself a martyr for the act. There are so many better things he could do with his time, like make another terrible movie with Earl or fantasize about the hottest girls at school. It doesn't help that he and Rachel don't have a lot in common. In fact, once he thinks to bring Earl along, he doesn't even have to add to the conversation.

     As far as pacing goes, there is quite a bit of balance here. Highs and lows take turns swinging at the characters, giving them a chance to experience life from a thousand different angles. From a fight to accidental drug use and public humiliation, Greg and Earl get the full high school treatment over the course of the novel. When they eat out, the food is terrible; when they hang out with Rachel, they don't know how to act. How is a boy supposed to treat a near-stranger who could fall dead at any minute? While there isn't a whole lot of character development, Andrews does a good job exposing his cast to a wide variety of eye-opening situations.

     The author of this piece seems dedicated to making it true to life. People cuss. Teens look up inappropriate images and think about romance at every turn. When something goes wrong, no matter how infinitesimal, it's a world-changing catastrophe. Greg is very honest about his life and the world in which he lives, and makes a few startling and funny observations as a result. On the other hand, he and Earl can't seem to go a minute without cursing repeatedly or using crude language. While a swear here and there could be overlooked, this is so constant and so vulgar it is distracting. There is no actual romance, and the only reference to religion is Greg's irreverent descriptions of his brief time in Hebrew school as a child.

     I would recommend this book to teens looking for an insightful book written from the point of view of a boy for whom life has no purpose. Greg Gaines may think he's all that, but really he's a boy who is extremely insensitive to the lives of those around him. His unpleasantness provides a unique, thought-provoking lens through which to watch a girl live out her final days. Add in a fairly static cast and an off-putting amount of vulgarity, and the amount of potential reached is lowered considerably. When all is said and done, Jesse Andrews' Me and Earl and the Dying Girl is a fairly good novel with a perspective on high school life that is almost too honest. It deserves three stars.

Review of "The Nightmare Affair"

"What kind of freak are you?"

     In Mindee Arnett's YA novel The Nightmare Affair, bad dreams don't just come true--they live right next door. Until a few months ago, Destiny Everheart was ordinary. Now she attends a school for magickind and breaks into houses to sit on dreamers' chests. Like her infamous rule-breaking mother, Dusty is a Nightmare, which means she has to feed off dreams to survive. This usually consists of sitting back and watching the dreams unfold, but when one of the subjects, a boy named Eli, foresees a murder at her school, her entire world is changed. According to the school oracle, Dusty is a dream-seer capable of predicting the future through the lens of Eli's subconscious mind. Because of this, she and Eli are tasked with discovering the identity of the murderer before he strikes again. But with the magickind in charge withholding information, Dusty is about do discover that playing Magical Detective is a lot more dangerous than it sounds.

     The Nightmare Affair opens quite strangely: with a teenage girl breaking into a stranger's bedroom, sitting on his chest, and entering his dream. Within the first few words, readers are thrown right into the thick of things. We see a cemetery, the body of a classmate, and from that moment onward the plot never stops rolling. One event leads to another, which leads to the next at a speed that could leave one breathless. Yet, despite this, this little tale does not move too swiftly. Through subtly vital subplots and an intriguing romance between an unexpected couple, the author provides just enough space for characters to rest, so to speak, without releasing her grip on the high tension and intense storyline.

     As the various threads of this narrative weave around each other, they form a tapestry that is much more cohesive than it first seems. Everything from minor romances to classmate rivalries and school bullies is important to both the story and the characters' development. In general, Dusty is the only one who undergoes a true change, following an internal arc that is sure to continue well into the rest of the series. Her companions, however, are primarily static creatures who serve as pillars of support and little else. Still, they are an interesting and complex bunch, ranging from a siren-rights activist to an "ordinary" and a magic-less halfkind, and contribute a great deal to the plot. And this is not to mention the quirky teachers and widely diverse faculty that truly make the setting shine.

     Yes, there is more to this whodunit than meets the eye, with stakes much higher than Dusty and her friends know. And because the setting is a school for mythological creatures and kids with powerful abilities, there is definitely a big difference in culture. For example, halfkinds--descendants of a magical being and a human, or one kind of being with another--who cannot work magic are sometimes referred to as "mules", which is a pretty big insult given the context. Ordinary human swearing is used as well, though not very often. The romance takes its time and is based on more than looks, though those play a big part, and includes a love triangle that is portrayed quite well. Those involved indulge in kissing and some light touching that nearly progresses further but does not. However, one of Dusty's victims is said to have had an inappropriate dream. A student-teacher relationship is briefly suspected. While there is a bit of violence, nothing is graphic or terribly detailed.

     I would recommend this book to anyone looking for a murder-mystery set in a world where magickind consist of more than mere wizards. Dusty Everheart is a strong character with lots of heart and a big problem on her hands. If she doesn't figure out what happened to her former classmate and why, there is a high likelihood that someone else will perish--and soon. Her struggle to uncover the truth in a society where nothing is simple is fascinating, and the school that backdrops it all is just as incredible. Sadly, the supporting cast is less than dynamic, though a few hold dark secrets of their own. Mindee Arnett's The Nightmare Affair is a great start to what looks like a wonderful series, and deserves a place on every reader's nightstand. It deserves four stars.

Review of "Freefall"

"I know you were there."

     In the young adult novel Freefall, debut author Ariela Anhalt takes a new look at the old boarding-school-drama trope. Luke Prescott has everything--a charismatic best friend, straight A's, and a spot on the Briar Academy's varsity fencing team. If he's careful, he can forget about the tragedy that took his dad to the grave and ruined his relationship with his mom. And when he can't forget...well, there's always the cliff, that secret place where the fencing team does their hazing ritual. When a new kid ends up dead at the bottom of that very cliff, the delicate balance of Luke's world is shattered forever. Suddenly, his best friend is Suspect Number One in a premeditated murder, and he's been asked to testify. With no other witnesses to talk to, the pressure is on for him to get his story right--and Luke is no longer sure this was an accident after all.

     Freefall does not open as a heart-pounding drama. Instead, it tells the simple story of a boy at war on two fronts: struggling against peer pressure at school, and lashing out against his widowed mother at home. Luke can't get over how callous his mom was in the weeks he needed her most, and it seems the only thing she ever offers him is excuses. Then, one fateful night, his best friend, Hayden, causes a boy to fall to his death, and Luke is the only witness. As time passes and it becomes less clear whether this was, in fact, an accident, Luke has to come to terms with everything from his own involvement to what happened to his father four years ago. Most importantly, he has to decide who deserves forgiveness and who deserves to be punished for everything they've done.

     This novel reads like a a YA story. The prose is straightforward, the characters generally easy to interpret. Anhalt slips into Luke's mind with as much grace as a ballerina, grasping the inner workings of the boy's mind with startling ease. There is more than enough angst for anyone interested in such things, although it is centered more around working out whether Hayden is capable of murder than getting the girl or winning new friends. Social groups are a big deal in the elite Briar Academy, and the tension created by Hayden's bossiness is tangible. The academy feels like an actual place rather than a fictional world, which is very neat.

     Most stories that emphasize an internal struggle are anchored around a related plot: bringing down a terrible evil, preventing some awful change in the town or school, or winning back the love of a significant other. With Freefall, this is not quite the case. While Luke does face the impending deadline of Hayden's trial, there is little in the way of a structured plot between the accident and the climax. Yet Anhalt makes this work, using worried friends, concerned faculty, and backstabbing adversaries to dig into the very heart of Luke's afflictions. Although there are times when this messes with the overall pacing, in this setting, against these characters, a meandering plot is somehow just what is needed.

     The trials Luke faces are numerous, and have a very serious effect on who he is. When we meet him, he is a kind boy who isn't sure he likes the way Hayden treats their friends behind their backs. And he stands out as the only one who doesn't drink, swear, or otherwise act out the way his friends do. As he tries to figure out what really happened on the cliff and what he's going to do about it, however, his language and mannerisms begin to evolve. Aside from F-bombs, which are used fairly often, the profanity used is relatively minor. There is a fight or two, usually involving combatants under the influence of alcohol. One already-deceased character is responsible for his own fate, which causes all kinds of trauma in the lives of their friends and family. Romance doesn't progress further than light kissing, and relationship problems of all kinds manage to add a great deal to the plot. 

     I would recommend this book to teens looking for a boarding school drama that goes beyond boy-meets-girl. Luke Prescott has to deal with a lot of emotional luggage over the course of the story, and the author handles it well. Even if the prose is rather simple, it captures the characters' emotions nicely. And while the pacing is slow at times, the plot is remarkably well executed. In short, Freefall is a great debut for a strong author and deserves a solid four stars.

Review of "When My Heart Was Wicked"

"She is still out there."

     In Tricia Stirling's When My Heart Was Wicked, the fragile peace of a hopeful young girl is abruptly shattered by a ghost from her history. Lacy Finn has lived in fear of her mother for years, terrified of the day she is released from jail and decides to take her daughter back. She likes the life she's made in Chico--a life of friendship, botany, chemistry, and light magic. After her father's death, her stepmother is the only person she can turn to for comfort. When Cheyenne, her birth mom, shows up in Chico with the legal right to reclaim custody of her child, Lacy's world is turned upside down. Instead of cardigans and cats, she has fitted black clothes and dark thoughts. Here, there are no protection spells, only curses and charms that defy the laws of nature. If lacy is going to salvage her future, she's going to have to confront the past--and the Lacy she once was has plans to return.

     Lacy is a very imaginative girl, and Stirling's writing very much embodies that. She has become quite adept at noticing the magic Anna, her stepmother, insists can be found in everyday life. She even keeps a mermaid's eye in her collection of extraordinary things and whispers growth spells to her herb garden. Even she isn't certain the magic is real, but it's part of who she is and she does it anyway. The prose itself carries this whimsy further, putting a bit of distance between reader and character in the process. Although this seems like it would be a bad thing, it allows the audience a sense of perspective without losing its grip on the charming yet unreliable narrator.

     Cheyenne Finn is a cold-hearted woman with a vicious spirit. She is the kind of person who encases live butterflies in wax and pins them up in her house, and raises plants that remain brown and lifeless no matter how well they are treated. What she wants from her daughter is more dangerous than love or company, worse than even Lacy can suspect. And her influence goes far beyond dictating Lacy's wardrobe and leaving her cat with Anna. The longer she stays with Cheyenne, the more her thoughts darken. Her spells, quite real, become vengeful. When she suffers at the hands of a cruel schoolmate, how she reacts will determine who she becomes--whether she gives in to Cheyenne's dark nature or rises above it, a struggle that is more difficult than it sounds.

     The magic in Lacy's story is much different than the sparkly lights and energy-zappers of other tales. This kind of magic is rooted more in herbalism and small rituals. When used for good, it can make plants bloom or bring good dreams. In the wrong hands, it inspires spells and rituals that hurt, kill, or even resurrect, although this last drains life from the surrounding area in order to work. And living with Cheyenne definitely puts Lacy at risk of becoming those wrong hands. As she spends more time with her mother, her cheery outlook on life is replaced by something grim and scary. The urge to take up self-harm returns for the first time in years, and is described in a bit of detail. Similarly, a boy's attempt to force himself on her is documented fully. The profanity is of medium strength and rare, as is crude language. One character blames herself for her mother's miscarriage.

     I would recommend this book to older teens interested in a toxic mother-daughter relationship and the internal struggle of darkness against light. Lacy is an intriguing character with more depth than meets the eye, working extraordinarily hard to become the kind of person she wants to be. But when her wicked, neglectful birth mother returns, she must fight harder than ever to hang on to the good girl she has become. Tricia Stirling deals with the dark topics in this novel well, and while the prose is rather whimsical it has a solid foundation. It could have used a little more light; otherwise, it is well-crafted and well-paced. There are a few potential trigger topics, though, so sensitive readers should tread lightly. In the end, When My Heart Was Wicked is a good, solid read deserving three stars.

Review of "The Eye of Minds"

"It's not a game--not anymore."

     In James Dashner's The Eye of Minds, danger threatens more than a way of life--it threatens reality itself. For Michael, nothing is more important than the VirtNet. More specifically, what matters is Lifeblood Deep, the next level in his game. Michael is two, maybe three years away from getting into Deep when he is recruited to prevent a girl from throwing her avatar off a bridge. But when she rips out her Core, the code separating her mind from the VirtNet, things suddenly grow deadly. Against his will, Michael and his friends are pulled into a war against a mysterious cyber-terrorist named Kaine. Although what Kaine wants is unknown, he's trapping people in the VirtNet--people who remove their Cores and perish rather than help him. It will take incredible courage and strength to track down this hacker, but what he doesn't know is that Kaine is more than he appears...and he has plans for Michael.

     The intriguing thing about Michael is that he's alone. His parents are constantly leaving him alone while they travel around the world, and his nanny is fairly hands-off. The only people he knows well enough to care about are his VirtNet friends Sarah and Bryson, kids he's never met in real life. Together, the trio go on daring escapades throughout the lower levels of the Lifeblood virtual reality game, hacking their way through particularly difficult obstacles. It is these hacking skills that draw the eye of VirtNet Security. When VNS asks Michael and his friends to track down Kaine, he doesn't tell anyone. Instead, he dives right in, heedless of what effect this mission might have on those around him. It's an interesting way to deal with the "family problem" every YA author struggles with, and it isn't pointless--in the end, Michael's family situation will have serious consequences.

      It's interesting to note that, despite the fact everything is virtual, the VirtNet is very much a real place. Worlds upon worlds are stored within its vast sprawl, and anyone who can afford a Coffin can access it. Countless people flood the servers at all hours to experience everything from first-person-shooters to clubs and parties. The landscapes can be anything from luscious forests to cityscapes or barren war zones. In fact, as Michael and company move from game to game, the VirtNet becomes just as realistic, if not more so, than the real world where he spends so little time. It's almost scary how intricate this simulated universe is, and if that is part of Dashner's underlying message, he has done his job well.

     Because the VirtNet is so lifelike, there are some hazards standing in Michael's way. For one thing, his quest is top secret, so he and his team have to go dark. No one can know what they're up to, even the authorities, which means they have zero backup until they reach Kaine. For another, users have a habit of setting their senses to their maximum capacity--which means that any creatures Kaine sends after them will look, sound, and feel like the real thing. If someone is injured on a battlefield, it actually hurts; if they die, they have to wait in darkness for thirty seconds before respawning. While nothing is graphic, the scraps Michael, Sarah, and Bryson get into can get a bit brutal. Profanity is kept to a minimum, there is no romance, and the actual hacking and coding are not described in any kind of detail.

     Unfortunately, although the pacing is fine and the premise is grand, there is a problem with Dashner's little story. Simply put, the ending is rushed. It's not that the climax moves to quickly or the conflict is unresolved. Rather, the final chapters contain a plot twist that completely throws off the story's rhythm. Everything is going smoothly, characters moving from one problem to the next with all the usual drama and action, until--bam!--the end arrives, bringing with it a shift in premise that is barely foreshadowed. The twist, of course, is marvelous; it's only that the suddenness of its appearance, so close to the flyleaves, cheapens the impact considerably. It does, however, leave plenty of room for a rousing sequel.

     I would recommend this book to teenagers looking for a science fiction novel about a VR-addicted boy, great online friends, and a villain who threatens the very fabric of reality. Michael is a strong character with lots of talent and plenty of spunk, and his friends are very helpful with his mission. If they're going to stop Kaine's evil plan, they'll need to throw every hacking technique, coding trick, and gaming strategy his way, and even that might not be enough. Sadly, the final plot twist comes too near the end to have a real impact, but it will definitely leave readers interested in what happens next. All together, James Dashner's The Eye of Minds is a good tale that is worth reading. It deserves four stars.

Review of "Dorothy Must Die"

"This wasn't Dorothy's Oz."

     In Danielle Paige's Dorothy Must Die, true stories never quite come to an end. When Amy Gumm is suspended for not punching a pregnant bully, the last thing she expects is to be abandoned by her mother, swept up in a tornado, and carried to Oz. When she emerges from her ruined trailer, though, that's exactly what has happened--except nothing about this magical land is remotely familiar. Apparently, the happy-go-lucky Dorothy Gale has returned to the world of her previous adventures, seized power, and drained the land of magic. Soon, Amy is swept up in a quest to save Oz and restore its former glory. To that end, she joins the Revolutionary Order of the Wicked, a team of witches and fighters who want to overthrow Emerald City. The Order claims Oz won't be free until Dorothy is dead. But when "Good" and "Wicked" have lost their meaning, right and wrong become all the more important...and Amy isn't sure who she can trust.

     Amy is everything Dorothy Gale is not: smart-mouthed, judgemental, and pink-haired, with a will that makes iron look like putty. Although this is generally a good thing, sometimes she is just too mouthy for her own good. It gets her in trouble, though not as often as one might think; more often than not, it leads to something terrible that affects someone else. And since she is the only character we really get to know, no amount of her incredible empathy and guilt can completely overlook how easily she dodges consequences.

     Still, there's something to be said for the way this plot progresses. One minute, Amy is dealing with a petty bully and resigning herself to another night of cleaning up after her drug-addicted mom; the next, she and her mom's pet rat are tumbling through the air, crashing alongside the Yellow Brick Road, and setting out for the Emerald City. Once she joins the Order, she is trained to fight, be it with her fists, a knife, or magic. While some of the hand-to-hand combat is a little unbelievable, the magic is fresh and ironically realistic. To accomplish her goal, Amy must go undercover for a time, and this time is fraught with tension and unpleasant discoveries that propel the story forward.

     The writing style is straightforward--no surprise, considering Amy's pragmatic nature. The author and narrator say what they mean and mean what they say. Those around them, on the other hand, are not so helpful. Secrets and conspiracies lurk around every corner, just waiting to jump on the unsuspecting trespasser. Friends come and go, while enemies close in from all sides. In some tales, the hero only thinks they can't trust anyone; in this one, it's true. And that's what makes it so interesting.

     Part of Amy's natural pragmatism means she doesn't skirt around the details--even if what she is describing is enough to turn one's stomach. The Wicked are at war with Dorothy's regime, and for good reason: Princess Gale has locked up the true heir and twisted the her friends' gifts to make them into twisted, sadistic killers. The Lion feeds on fear; the Scarecrow performs heinous experiments on prisoners; and the Tin Woodsman commands an army of vicious, half-metal soldiers. When someone dies, it isn't pretty, and while nothing is exceptionally graphic there is a bit of gore. The rare animal deaths are much cleaner. A few characters curse from time to time, holding little back when they do so. There is a very mild romantic undercurrent that leads to one kiss, and a hint at a love triangle that never comes.

     I would recommend this book to older teens who are skeptical of happy endings. In this Oz, returning home to Kansas means living a life doomed to obscurity, while staying behind can lead to wonderful opportunities. But everything comes at a price, and Amy arrives right in the middle of Dorothy's. This is a fast-paced novel led by a strong voice with a sharp tongue, and though we never actually get to know anyone else, she shoulders the storytelling burden well. Thanks to a great plot, an interesting premise, and a powerful protagonist, Danielle Paige's Dorothy Must Die deserves four gold stars.

Review of "Everything, Everything"

“Love is worth everything.”

     In debut author Nicola Yoon’s Everything, Everything, we take a trip into a world where danger is everywhere. Eighteen-year-old Madeline Whittier is a normal girl, at least online. Offline, in the sanctuary of her white-walled house, with her vigilant nurse by her side, she is simply ill. Or, rather, she could become ill at any moment. For a girl with Severe Combined Immunodeficiency—commonly referred to as “bubble baby disease”—exposure to the Outside world could lead to a horrible death. When a boy named Olly moves in next door and Maddy decides to take a chance at life, her carefully controlled environment ceases to satisfy. There is a whole planet out there to explore, and if she has to risk life and love to do so, so be it. But this adventure is about to bring her alive in a whole new way that will quite possibly change her life forever.

     This novel calls to mind every cancer book that has ever been written. Girl with a terminal illness? Check. Flawless boy who refuses to stay away? Check. Daring adventures that are doomed from the start to end in tragedy? Double check. However, that is just about where the similarities end. Madeline’s SCID has controlled her entire life, trapping her inside a sterile house with no company except her mother and nurse, and no social outlet aside from her online classes and Tumblr book reviews. Where sick protagonists in other titles rediscover the meaning of life, Maddy discovers life itself for the first time. The entire piece is soaked through with hope, impossible or not, and that is what sets it apart from every other novel in its genre. Olly is only a part of those things, not their entirety, which turns everything much more authentic.

     The worldbuilding in Maddy’s story is deceptively simple. There are no long, drawn-out descriptions of what SCID does or how the various medical apparatus she uses work. Yet, somehow, her entire world is rich with complexity. Both Whittiers dress in white, even though color has no effect on the disease which plagues them. Without surviving family for company, they have created two-player rules for group-sized games. While none of this is explained in any great depth, it lends its own flavor to the story and provides a vibrant backdrop for the plot. In this case, “worldbuilding” depends heavily on the preexisting mother-daughter relationship, and Yoon does not disappoint. Madeline and her mom have a sweet, loving bond that shows in every interaction, no matter how insignificant. And when Maddy starts falling for the boy next door, the strain this puts on their relationship adds a great deal to the main plot.

     Madeline’s seclusion has not made for a very unwholesome atmosphere. She has a mother and nurse who love her, neither of which swear or use any sort of violence. However, after her adventures with Olly begin, a few instances of profanity slip in. This is fairly infrequent and, while it consists of a couple of notable curses, is generally overlookable. One of the neighboring families deals with domestic violence, which is relatively non-graphic. The romance becomes quite physical at one point, and although it is never outright crude it is described in a bit of detail. There are plot twists everywhere—some good, some cruel, and some fantastic—but all are worth looking forward to.

     I would recommend this book to anyone looking for a new take on the classic “sick girl meets healthy boy” trope. Madeline Whittier is trapped in an impossible situation from which there is no escape, and her journey toward enjoying it is heartbreakingly beautiful. Additionally, her SCID—which is rarely, if ever, seen in fiction—gives the story a sense of freshness it would otherwise lack. The plot is well-paced, full of twists and turns that lurk behind each corner and are sure to keep readers on their toes. All in all, Nicola Yoon’s debut novel Everything, Everything is a fantastic read that deserves five stars.