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.