Review of "The 5th Wave"

"The minute we decide that one person doesn't matter anymore, they've won."

     If alien invasions suit your fancy, Rick Yancey's The 5th Wave may be just what you're looking for. When the 1st Wave hit, sixteen-year-old Cassiopeia "Cassie" Sullivan holed up in her house with her mom, dad, and little brother, waiting for things to get better. Three Waves later, they've only gotten worse. Mankind is almost extinct. The Others inhabit the minds of a few key humans, turning the remaining survivors against each other to stay alive. Cassie's parents are dead, leaving on her own to care for her little brother, Sammy. But Sams has been taken to Camp Haven, a military base that trains children to fight back against those "infected" with an Other consciousness. No matter how safe he is now, he'll be sent to the front line as soon as he's big enough--which means that Cassie's quest to reunite with him is about to get a whole lot harder. The 5th Wave is coming. And it won't be the last.

     Unlike other stories featuring attacks from extraterrestrial entities, The 5th Wave integrates a well thought-out battle plan. The Others have taken their time, tailoring their attacks to vital parts of our infrastructure. Disease, natural disasters, distrust, an EMP--these are the Waves that have destroyed the world. What starts out as peek into a teenager's post-apocalypse diary soon becomes a full-on tour of Cassie's life as she struggles to make her way to Camp Haven and free her brother. She has few supplies, very little idea where it is, and an "infected" hunter--which she calls a Silencer--on her tail. In short, she may as well give up now. What makes her extraordinary, however, is her ability to push through impossible situations, shaping and reshaping her plan until something works...at which point she barrels forward with such intensity that nothing can stand in her way.

     This is the point where the pacing trips up. About halfway through her trek to the military base, Cassie is forced to make camp in an old cabin occupied by a mysterious boy named Evan Walker. Walker is supposed to be a charming, enigmatic love interest with a dark secret, but by the time the first couple of foreshadowing hints are dropped it's fairly obvious what he's hiding. Unfortunately, Cassie doesn't seem to agree; she spends a goodly portion of the novel swooning over him and wondering what he's up to instead of planning her next move. Although this provides a considerable amount of character development and contributes to the final stretch of plot, it makes the stakes seem lower than they truly are and generally detracts from the story.

     Though we've been focusing on Cassie, there is another character who takes center stage for a while, as well. Meet Zombie, a Camp Haven cadet who's just been assigned to babysit the latest recruit, a little kid called Nugget. With the help of a transfer cadet, Zombie's squadron may be headed for graduation--except, that is, for Nugget. When a terrible truth comes to light, Zombie, Cassie, and Evan must work together to free Nugget--that is, Sams--before time runs out. Zombie's point of view gives readers a nice break from the "teenaged survivor" perspective.

     Because Zombie is in the military, it's only natural to expect some profanity. The commanders, soldiers, and cadets all swear, sometimes to demoralize underlings and sometimes to let off steam in a stressful situation. The same goes for those beyond Camp Haven's protective borders, where Silencers are everywhere and no one is to be trusted. In order to keep going, Cassie and her allies are often thrown into somewhat brutal fights that leave them a little more scarred each time. These can be a little intense and a tad gruesome, so sensitive readers should beware. The romance--which consists of kissing, inquisitive touches, and leading thoughts--feels out of place in the plot and just insta-love-y enough to be awkward, regardless of its plot contributions.

     I would recommend this book to mid- to older teens interested in a high-stakes apocalyptic story where saving one person is just as important as saving the world. The Waves that took out humanity are well-considered and believable, and the character development that takes place within this new world is great to read. Despite the unsteady pacing near the middle of the narrative, the stakes are enough to keep the pages turning regularly. Sams is a loveable persona who seems almost real, tying the whole thing together in the face of its flaws. Overall, Rick Yancey's The 5th Wave is a strong start to a series set in a terrifying future, and deserves four stars.

Review of "The Darkest Part of the Forest"

"Something even more dangerous than your prince walks in his shadow."

     In Holly Black's The Darkest Part of the Forest, it isn't unusual to spy a fairy-tale creature flitting about the woods surrounding the town. The locals are very superstitious about them, and take care to apply all kinds of protection as they go about their days. For Hazel and Ben Evans, however, things used to be much different. Instead of wearing necklaces to ward off the Folk, they hunted them. With Ben's magical knack for music and Hazel's self-taught swordplay, they were an unstoppable force...until Ben wrecked his hand and, with it, their careers. Now Hazel does little more than kiss boys she doesn't like and pretend she doesn't care. When an escaped faerie prince puts the entire town in jeopardy, Hazel will have to put the past behind her and become a knight once again. But this isn't a childhood game anymore. If she fails, Fairfold is doomed--and with it, everyone she loves.

     What's fascinating about The Darkest Part of the Forest is that, while it's a modern fairy tale, it isn't simply a rendition of a well-known classic. This is a purely original story about a girl, her brother, and her brother's best friend trying to save their town. Sure, the author pulls a lot of information from old stories about They Themselves, but it's thrown into a completely fresh context. The milk left on the doorstep, the iron carried in pockets, and the special necklaces all either ward off or placate Fairfold's immortal neighbors, yet it isn't only the off-page ones who are affected. Even Jack, the faerie changeling who lives in town and happens to be Ben's best friend, has to deal with these fully-functional superstitions, making the world that much more intriguing.

     Plot-wise, there's both a lot and very little going on in this tale. While Hazel may like to think the burdens of the world are hers to shoulder, that isn't entirely the case. This makes things much more complicated than they should be, but it adds just the right touch of drama to the otherwise straightforward plot. Meanwhile, in the forest, a faerie boy who has slept in an unbreakable glass casket for centuries is on the loose, and the Folk aren't too happy about it. When Hazel and Ben find themselves tangled up in the thick of the conflict, truths are revealed about their lives that will shock readers just as much as the characters. These truths move the story forward just as much as the core conflict, and are easily as compelling.

     Now for the warning labels. In this narrative, most faeries--known as Folk--aren't exactly kind toward humans. This ranges from harmless pranks to full-blown murder, the latter of which is described just graphically enough to get the point across. Tourists are the prime targets; however, they aren't the only victims. When a terrible monster is set loose on the town, everyone is fair game. Hazel's childhood knight escapades, on the other hand, are generally clean. What isn't clean is the cursing vocabulary--or Hazel's relationship with the local boys. Although she generally sticks to raging-party kisses, there is a moment where she ends up seconds away from taking things a step further with one particular character. It's also worth noting that Ben is gay, and has a bit of an insta-love romantic subplot that feels too abrupt to be genuine.

     I would recommend this book to teens interested in a simple, absorbing fairy tale where the characters are ordinary people. So what if they haven't slayed monsters since they were children? So what if their faerie friend thinks it's unwise? When adventure calls, Ben and Hazel Evans are just the right people to answer, even if they don't know it. Their quest to save their town is noble, impossible, and yet somehow accomplishable,and it is that ability to suspend reader disbelief that makes Holly Black's narrative so irresistible. The only real downsides are the insta-love and the somewhat graphic faerie "tricks", because otherwise The Darkest Part of the Forest is pure gold. In the end, it deserves four stars.

Review of "The 100"

"Any spot on this planet was going to be infinitely better than the world they'd left behind."

     Today's tale is a young adult novel by Kass Morgan, entitled The 100. In this glimpse into mankind's future, the entire race is confined to an enormous space station drifting among the stars. Below, interested parties can catch a glimpse of the planet they once called home--a planet still recovering from a terrible nuclear winter that began three hundred years ago. Yet as the ship begins showing more and more signs of age, it becomes glaringly obvious that the end of this excursion is near. In a desperate attempt to save their people, the Council sends one hundred teens Confined for unforgivable crimes to what remains of Earth. Their mission is to carve out a life for themselves and prove Earth is habitable again. But starting over isn't as easy as it sounds, and if the settlers slip up even once, it's not just their lives on the line. It's the rest of humanity.

     The 100 is built on an incredibly strong premise. Clarke and Glass are eighteen-year-old protagonists spared the death sentence only because of the expedition to earth, while Wells and Bellamy put their lives on the line to tag along and protect the girls they love. During a struggle before launch, however, Glass escapes the shuttle--only to find herself trapped on a station where she's still a criminal, her boyfriend has moved on, and one wrong step will send her straight to the execution chamber. There's a lot of angst to work with, and it quickly becomes apparent that the colonists aren't just going to live in harmony. With a shipment of criminals crash-landing on an abandoned planet, countless possibilities are at the author's fingertips, just waiting to be utilized.

     The thing is, most of them are never even touched on. The clearing in which the colonists find themselves is perfect for setting up camp. A stream is nearby, so collecting water isn't an issue. Even the woods are free of predators, though there's plenty of two-headed deer to be had. In the face of a complete absence of external conflict, the characters turn inward, fighting each other for power and resources whenever they can and reflecting on their crimes in private when they can't. Even Glass, high up in the sky, doesn't run from guards or fight for her life except during flashbacks. This is very disappointing, especially in light of the story's epic setup. In fact, the most interesting moments take place during flashbacks, while the present remains somewhat stagnant.

     What is interesting is the world where this all takes place. The space station Clarke, Wells, and Bellamy abandon is fascinating in its size and complexity, the laws built on questionable morals lending the vessel a somewhat dystopian feel. Meanwhile, Earth has emerged from the nuclear winter stronger than ever. Gorgeous luminescent butterflies dance among the purple-leafed trees, while delicate flowers burst into full maturity in less than a heartbeat--and the once-Confined teenagers have crash-landed right into it. Nature is ripe with emotion and perfect--or unfortunate--timing, sending everything from rainfall and lightning to deadly fires. If there's one thing that's reliable here, it's that the weather behaves believably and realistically.

     Now, it's true that the characters sent to Earth have foul mouths. However, considering they are all criminals of one sort or another, their vocabularies could be a lot worse. Although they curse, it is generally basic, frequent as it may be. There is one spat, however, in which an opponent insults his enemy with an exceptionally crude jab at the boy's sister, which ends in a well-warranted fistfight. In a potential trigger scene, a neighbor tries to take advantage of a protagonist, only to be interrupted just in time. The romance is pretty shallow, though it does its best to be based on personalities and experiences rather than physical attraction. Despite this, there is a lot of kissing and a few scenes end in implications of those involved going much further.

     I would recommend this book to teens looking for a wide variety of heroes struggling with the ghosts of their mistakes in a foreign environment. The Earth of Kass Morgan's imagination is realistic despite the changes wrought by radiation, and provides the perfect setting for its newest inhabitants. If only more time was spent developing characters instead of fleshing out their backstories, and the potential conflicts provided by the landscape and premise were acted upon, The 100 could have turned out even better. As it is, it deserves three stars.

Review of "Haunted Waters"

"You guys are either very lucky or you have somebody upstairs looking out for you."

     For the twin protagonists of Jerry B. Jenkins and Chris Fabry's Haunted Waters, nothing seems worse than losing their dad. Then moving to Colorado. Then watching their mom remarry, moving in with their new stepdad and stepsister, and running into a cruel bully at school. But when they accidentally take a picture of the people who've stolen a valuable gold nugget, Ashley and Bryce realize that the trials they've faced can't possibly compare to someone trying to kill them. It will take more courage, faith, and strength to figure out who's hunting them than the Timberlines think they have. Yet if they're to return to the everyday trials of living with a stepfather and standing up to bullies, they have no other choice. It's do or die--and the twins won't be the only ones who pay the price of their mistakes.

     It's interesting to note that Haunted Waters doesn't start out as a mystery. Instead, it opens with a later scene viewed through the eyes of an antagonist, then launches into the story of two ordinary teenagers struggling to deal with a new school, new lifestyle, and new belief system. They alternate between teasing their stepsister about her scary boyfriend, worrying about dodging mean kids at school, and feeling guilty that they just can't seem to "connect" with their stepfather, Sam. Then, in an attempt to forge that connection, Sam takes them on a trip to a vug. Before they make it to the attraction, however, they're forced to leave--and are thrown into a turbulent world where danger is around every corner. By setting the scene so thoroughly before beginning the main plot, Jenkins and Fabry allow readers to truly connect with their characters in a way that would otherwise be prohibited by action.

     On the flip side, there's certainly a lot of action and suspense in Bryce and Ashley's lives. From break-ins to car chases to confrontations at school, these two are never far from their next adventure. And when they're not fleeing from danger, they're driving around in ATVs and trying to figure out what their mysterious stepfather is hiding. Additionally, each protagonist faces a personal challenge of their own. For Bryce, it's a mean-spirited classmate who wants to ride his ATV. Meanwhile, Ashley must decide what to do when a close friend tries to rope her into something that goes against her conscience. These subplots do more than fill in the gaps between major scenes; they lend just enough reality to the story to make it believable.

     As far as violence and language goes, there isn't much to be concerned about in this novel. If there's any cursing at all, it's very rare and mild, and there's more panicked evasion than actual fighting. Although there is one scene that involves a car crash, a lake, and a terrified family, there is no gore and not much in the way of death. Grief is a huge player in the cast's character development, and is portrayed pretty realistically. Christianity also has a strong presence, as the Timberlines pray for their friends and family, and for their own safety as well. There are conversations about what faith really means and how to live by it; however, this rarely becomes preachy. And then there's the end--a cliffhanger that's built toward throughout the narrative but nevertheless shocking, and not in a positive way. Readers fond of series will definitely be scrambling for the next installment.

     I would recommend this book to kids and families interested in a fun mystery story featuring normal kids thrown into an extraordinary quest for truth and survival. Ashley and Bryce are well-written and relatable, their family is believably complicated in a way that benefits the plot, and the problems they run into are simultaneously mundane and incredible. Jerry B. Jenkins and Chris Fabry have crafted an absorbing world and plot for the first installment of their Red Rock Mysteries series, and they aren't done yet. The cliffhanger at the end is sudden and mindblowing, and will undoubtedly leave readers desperate for a sequel. Because of all this, Haunted Waters deserves four stars.

Review of "The Girl With All the Gifts"

“You carry on that way, you’ll start thinking of them as real kids.”

     In M. R. Carey’s post-apocalyptic The Girl With All the Gifts, the definition of “human” is up for debate. For ten-year-old Melanie, however, everything is as straightforward and wonderful as it could possibly be. Especially on Miss Justineau days, when Sergeant and his people strap her into her wheelchair, roll her out of her cell, and she finds her absolute favorite teacher waiting in the classroom at the end of the hall. Melanie wishes she was a Greek god or a Titan so she could save Miss Justineau from Heffalumps and Woozles, but she’s just a kid. That is, until Dr. Caldwell calls her in for a biopsy, hungries swarm the compound, and she, Justineau, Caldwell, Sergeant, and one of Sergeant’s men are thrown into the wilds of region 6. They have no shelter, very little food, and a whole pack of junkers and hungries on their tail…and little Melanie may be the biggest threat of all.

     In case it's hard to tell from the synopsis, this is a story about zombies. Rather, it’s about hungries, the once-human creatures that inhaled the spores of a deadly fungus and went lights-out. Now they’re vicious, starving, and terrifyingly fast. But there’s something about these hungries that is different than the average undead beast. Some of them haven’t lost their humanity at all. They’re sentient, capable of learning at incredible rates, and—most importantly—able to resist the smell of man if they want to. These very special hungries are all children, and Dr. Caldwell and her team are determined to do whatever it takes to find a cure through their partial immunity. Yet as she descends ever deeper into her project, she becomes less of a person herself and more of a monster.
 

     That’s one of the things that is most fascinating about this story: no one is perfect. One or two aren’t even likeable. Even Melanie, who starts out as a regular little girl, has to battle some pretty heavy inner demons by the time the narrative has run its course. And, of course, there is Miss Justineau, who is forced to reconcile her intimate knowledge of the hungry children she once taught with the dangerous creatures roaming the British countryside. The tale cycles through each protagonist’s point of view on a regular basis, so we get a great deal of insight as to how their minds work and what they’re scheming behind everyone else’s back. Because while this party of five might be traveling together, some are out for themselves in the end, and that means no one is safe.

     It’s chilling just how detailed this future world of Carey’s is. From spring blossoms to military rations and hungry-making fungi, the land and its occupants seem to seep out of the pages and into the real-life landscape, wrapping readers in a cocoon of suspended disbelief. Even the hungries are realistic, as far as that adjective can be extended to undead man-eaters. And by looking at it through the eyes of different characters, we get a true sense of what this world is actually like, without being limited to the biased perspective of a ten-year-old.

     That being said, this is definitely a book for the grown-up shelf. Not only are there zombie-like creatures that occasionally flaunt their wounds and condition in a gruesome manner, there is a boatload of cursing and violence, mostly in relation to those in said condition. Although Melanie spends a good third of the plot locked up in one way or another, she’s never actually mistreated until Caldwell tries to vivisect her—and even then, things don’t exactly go to plan. A few innuendos here and there eventually lead up to a subplot that’s more physical than romantic and takes place primarily off the page. In this case, at least, the details are up to the reader’s imagination.

     I would recommend this book to adults looking for a fast-paced plot set in a remarkably well thought-out world. The hungries are scary, the characters are complex, and the struggles they face are gripping. If it weren’t for the language and somewhat grotesque scenes revolving around the hungries, The Girl With All the Gifts would be YA-friendly as well; however, as it is I highly recommend pre-reading it before presenting it to teenagers. Nevertheless, M. R. Carey’s book is very good and deserves four stars.

Review of "The Young Elites"

"I am tired of being used, hurt, and tossed aside."

     For the teenagers in Marie Lu's The Young Elites, the possession of an almost magical gift is nothing to be thankful for. Every child who survived the recent blood fever has emerged with two things: a marking and a talent. One-eyed Adelina Amouteru has grown used to her father's painful attempts to draw out her gift, whatever it may be. She's suffered a broken finger, sobbed as he mutilated insects before her eyes, and lived with the knowledge that she'll never, ever be as good as her flawless younger sister, Violetta, who somehow survived the fever without becoming a malfetto. But when a runaway attempt finds Adelina facing the stake, she discovers that she does, indeed, have a gift--one so powerful the greatest of all malfettos have sought her out for their cause. Suddenly, Adelina is thrown into a world where power is to be craved, not feared--and she can make everyone who's ever wronged her suffer.

     Lu takes a delicious and exciting new approach to the superpower-possessing-kids trope that so many novels explore. Adelina and the other malfettos have a legitimate reason to hide their talents: the  Kenettran king and his terrible Inquisition have it out for these so-called Young Elites. Anyone who is able to control water or wind, make gardens flower, teleport objects between locations, or otherwise possesses an ability not of this land is to be put to death. And although Adelina's power is impressive, it draws its strength from fear, rage, and pain, which threaten to stain her soul permanently. If she is to aid the Young Elites' revolution, she must give herself over to her natural cruelty and passion--and risk losing her sister, the only person who has ever loved her.

     Even if the internal struggle between love and darkness wasn't consuming, the worldbuilding certainly is. Kenettra is a beautiful island kingdom detailed with lovely pseudo-Italian architecture and canals, gorgeous scenery, and enchanting costumes. The Young Elites possess incredible talents that are as unusual as they are formidable. From controlling fire to manipulating emotions, they form a force to be reckoned with. However, the Inquisition is just as imposing. Led by a man who will do anything to atone for his flaws, they will stop at nothing to bring the malfettos to their knees. Adelina is the greatest hope the malfetto revolution has, but when the Inquisition threatens her sister, she must decide who to trust and who to save: her people, or the one she loves. And each choice comes with potentially deadly consequences.

     The characters Adelina associates with are a motley bunch that have somehow forged themselves into a strong, elegant unit that is both swift and deadly. Among them are a consort, an Architect, and an animal-charmer, all of whom are fully-fleshed individuals capable of standing entirely on their own. One boy in particular seems to be falling for Adelina, even as she struggles to remain objective herself. While this strays uncomfortably close to insta-love, their eventually passionate romance--which never quite passes the kissing-boundary--makes our heroine's challenges that much more heartbreaking. None of her consort-friend's work is actually described, so the tale remains fairly clean in that department. Also clean is the vocabulary, aside from a few minor curses. There is a fair bit of violence that is worth pre-reading, though, even if it isn't particularly gory.

     I would recommend this book to teenagers in the market for a well-written tale of one girl's struggle between darkness and light, love and hate. Adelina Amouteru is a strong, complex girl whose life is far from straightforward, but she faces each trial with such courage it's nearly impossible to look away. Only the violence and near-insta-love brought down the star rating, as everything else was grand, however dark it might be. Marie Lu's The Young Elites is certainly a successful start to the trilogy that will keep readers on the edge of their seats until the last page is turned. It deserves four stars.

Review of "The Thief Lord"

"You're really very young for a bunch of thieves."

     In Cornelia Funke's The Thief Lord, no one is too young for adventure. When twelve-year-old Prosper loses his parents to tragedy, his aunt and uncle threaten to take away the only good thing he has left: his five-year-old brother, Boniface. Clinging to his sibling in his grief, Prosper takes Bo to Venice, land of his mother's fairy tales. There, they disappear with the help of Hornet, a young girl who leads them to a host of other orphans and runaways living together in an ancient movie theater. There, they are provided for by Scipio, an intrepid burglar who calls himself the Thief Lord. When the Thief Lord takes a job from a mysterious client, honest Prosper does everything he can to stay out of it, but it soon becomes apparent that bigger things are afoot. His aunt and uncle have arrived in Venice, and they are determined to claim Bo as their own...no matter the cost.

     Funke's uses a gorgeous writing style in this novel. Venice is portrayed as a land of magic, in the descriptions as well as the story. Everything from exquisitely carved lions to a private detective's disguises is recorded with both impeccable detail and love. The characters all possess a larger-than-life quality that is unmistakable, as do the secrets that are slowly revealed as the plot progresses. Secrets are unveiled. Magic is released. Truths tear people apart. Prosper and Bo's journey toward a better life is riddled with trouble, yet somehow they manage to pull through. That is, until something horrible rocks their world, leaving them little time to pick up the pieces before it falls apart for good.

     Everyone who makes an appearance in this little narrative is a fully developed, fleshed-out person with their own lives, hopes, and dreams. Even the grown-ups keep a tiny morsel of their childhood self locked away within their souls, and these emerge on occasion to spice things up or deepen their core characters, depending on the situation. Meanwhile, the children are just as diverse and realistic as their more adult counterparts--without making this all about kids versus grown-ups. This balance is maintained nicely throughout the entire story, even as Prosper, Bo, and their new friends haggle with a greedy pawn shop owner over the Thief Lord's payments and run from a nosy investigator. In the end, each one is simply a person, and that is done so beautifully it is almost breathtaking.

     The red-flag-count in The Thief Lord is approximately zero. While the Thief Lord may be a burglar, he tends to leave his young friends out of it, which means they are generally safe. There are, however, several scenes in which this is not the case--times when the police are on their trail, vicious dogs are chasing them, or they have to make a decision about a prisoner. Whatever violence does take place is very clean, as is the vocabulary used. As the vast majority of the protagonists are children, there is no romance aside from a flirtationship between a couple of the adults, which is actually quite cute.

     I would recommend this book to children and children-at-heart who long for an adventure in a magical world they can find on a real map. The Thief Lord features bright kids, a daring leader, shocking discoveries, grown-ups both kind and cruel, and people who seem just as tangible as the readers themselves. The writing style is great, the worldbuilding is absorbing, and the plot is addictive. Cornelia Funke did a truly grand job with this story, which deserves five golden stars.