Been There, Done That

City of Bones:  Book One
Written by Cassandra Clare
Published by Margaret K. McElderry Books
3 Out of 5 Stars

Fifteen year old Clary is different: she can see the real world that's hidden from the rest of humanity. As such, she is the only witness to a murder in a hip nightclub and, when those responsible for this death find out, they have questions for her. Clary's world is turned upside down when she learns that what she witnessed was actually a demon-slaying at the hands of the Shadow Hunters, an elite group created by the Angel to rid the world of demons and protect the world of man. As Clary discovers the truth of her own connection to this world of faeries, vampires, werewolves, wizards, and demons, she comes to realize that she's not the person she thought she was.

This is yet another entry into the teen fantasy category and, as such, you can practically see Clare going down the checklist for popular teen fantasy. Like other books in this genre, it's well over 400 pages. There's also a love triangle between a girl and two guys, one of whom is oh-so-right for her and one of whom is oh-so-wrong (and later we find out just how really, really, really wrong he is). There's a smorgasbord of supernatural creatures and enough twists and turns to qualify for a ride at Six Flags. 

However, for the most part, the story takes some original twists and often veers away from the more predictable scenarios that tend to plague this type of book. There's also a dash of humor that was refreshing. The female character, while not as strong as Katniss in The Hunger Games and not as whiny as Bella, is a nice cross between the two, which makes her a little more realistic. However, the narrative could have been improved if the novel were around 300 pages in length and focused more on the shadow hunter story line (but, no, we must save that for the next two books, as all teenage novels are now required to spawn a trifecta). There is too much filler, which robs the story of any real momentum (the scene with the vampires comes to mind, a completely unnecessary chapter that seems to only exist so the novel can include the popular Supernatural Flavor of the Week).

Despite these weaknesses, it is overall a pretty good book for its ilk and I'm sure I'll read the sequels sometime in the future. The distant future. 

Finds the Right Balance

Finding Lubchenko
by Michael Simmons
Published by Razorbill
3 Out of 5 Stars

Not too shabby. It definitely was a welcome diversion from all of the supernatural/romance/football books that currently glut the young adult genre. Evan MacAlister is rich, but not spoiled--at least from his point of view--and this is his main complaint. As a way of retaliating against his father's strict discipline and aversion to giving Evan everything he wants, Evan begins to swipe high tech gadgetry from his dad's office and sells it online to earn an income worthy of a respectable rich kid. However, when his dad is framed for murder and the laptop Evan recently stole contains evidence that may free him, the choice to Evan seems clear--crack the security codes, retrieve the information, and go after the murderer himself. After all, he doesn't want to risk getting caught, then there's the fact that his dad once made him spend the night in jail for a relatively minor offense.

Evan is a character much like Ferris Bueller: entitled, yet entertaining so we're willing to forgive him his faults. The book is amusing and despite the fact that Evan and his friends don't really exert much influence over the events in the story as they unfold, it's an entertaining enough way to kill an afternoon.

Weak Hand

The Hand You're Dealt
by Paul Volponi
Published by Atheneum Books for Young Readers
2 Out of 5 Stars

Huck Porter is a poker prodigy, having been groomed by his father (much to the chagrin of his mother) from a young age . Every year the local church hosts an annual Texas Hold'em tournament and sends the winner to Las Vegas to play in a high stakes tournament. The standing agreement is that whatever money is won will be split between the winner and the struggling community. Huck's father has been the tournament champion for the last three years and it's only as his father is dying that a new tournament champion is named:  Mr. Abbott, the meanest math teacher to ever dust an eraser. When Mr. Abbott stiffs the town by refusing to split his earnings, Huck sees this as an insult against his father who once donated all of his winnings to the town. As a result, Huck decides it's time to humble Mr. Abbott both in the classroom and at the poker table.

While the opening chapter offers a lot of promise (Huck and the other poker players are being robbed at gun point in an elevator), it quickly loses momentum from there. The premise of a small time, small bets poker tournament being used as a means of sustaining an economically depressed community is far fetched and Mr. Abbott is almost cartoonishly evil in his tyranny over the classroom. In addition, Huck is dealing with some pretty heavy conflicts, but they're glossed over and resolved in simplistic ways.

For the target audience, which I assume to be 13-15 year old boys, this is probably a good read (especially for struggling readers) for all the reasons that I didn't like it. While the chapters are short and keep the action moving along, there's not a lot of description or character development, and there are several implausible situations/details that will probably sneak right on past a young reader. While I will certainly recommend the book to my students, it's not something that offers satisfaction to a more sophisticated reading audience.  

Growing Up is Hard to Do

Looking for Alaska
by John Green
Published by Speak
3 Out of 5 Stars

Divided into two parts (before and after), I was all set to give this book a 4 until the last half of the book. The book is structured around a tragic event that changes the lives of a close knit group of friends. 

The first half of the book focuses on the main character, Pudge, a high school nobody with a penchant for collecting the last words of the dead and famous. Pudge, seeking a "Great Perhaps" that will change his life and provide him with direction, opts to attend Culver Creek, a private boarding school in Alabama. There he meets the Alaska of the book, a mercurial and mysterious girl with whom he falls in love. In addition, he becomes part of a motley group of misfits and finally feels as though he belongs. The novel's strength comes from this part of the book. There are those who will criticize these teens as being too jaded and world weary, but that's really the point. These are essentially good kids with keen intellects that have developed much sooner than their emotional maturity; they still see themselves as invincible. They smoke, they cuss, they drink, they experiment with sex. What they're really doing is trying to create an individualistic identity by trying on adult habits and modes of behavior, not realizing that their rebellious behavior has made them into stereotypes. Despite their flaws, they're likable--funny, sharp witted, and loyal to one another. 

My problem with the book is the second half, and I won't give away any spoilers. However, I was disappointed with the Scooby Doo ease with which the answer to the final mystery fell into place (my inner voice was groaning, "Rut ro, Raggy," as I realized how dissatisfying the ending was going to be). Also, adults just become complete idiots by the end of the book, shaking their heads with "You crazy kids"-like admiration at some of their more ridiculous exploits. However, it's a worthwhile read that is smartly written and would probably appeal more to teenagers. 

Neither Great Nor Terrible

A Great and Terrible Beauty
by Libba Bray
Published by Simon and Schuster
3 Out of 5 Stars

I swiped this out of the classroom one day because I had lunch duty and my choices were A) stare at the perpetual hacky sack game for 30 minutes or B) read something. As you can see, I didn't have much of a choice at all (it was one of those Eddie Izzard "Cake or death?" scenarios). When I began the book, I was immediately hooked--exotic locale, spirited protagonist, hint of the supernatural. However, it was a case of infatuation-at-first-sight that burned out rather quickly. After finishing the book, I was left with an overwhelming sensation of "meh."

Why did the book lose my interest so quickly? Here's a quickly compiled list of possible reasons:

A) Began in India, but then switched to an isolated boarding school for girls in Victorian England. Come on! They lost me as soon as they left an amazing setting with all kinds of possibility for a mediocre one.

B) It's a young adult book and those don't always sit well with me. I just couldn't connect to the four girls that form the clique in the book. Case in point: they begin dabbling in witchcraft and one uses her power to create the perfect Prince Charming and one uses hers to--shock!--be beautiful. Puh-leaze.

C) Speaking of the four girls, stereotypes in the extreme: the mysterious one with a dark secret; the beautiful, but tragic one; the rebellious spirit; and the plain girl who doesn't belong in this world of prestige and riches.

So why did I give it a 3? It's fairly well written, it has an interesting premise (though the execution falls flat), there are a few genuinely funny moments,and it will probably appeal to the intended audience. I may read the sequels, but it will be a bit before I muster up the interest in doing so.

No God Can Shun His Destiny--Even If It Means Wearing Hollister

Antigoddess
by Kendare Blake
Published by Tor Teen
3 Out of 5 Stars

**I received a free copy of Antigoddess from Tor in exchange for an honest review.**

After centuries, the Twilight of the Gods has arrived. 

Already fallen from Olympus, now more mortal than god, each deity is dying in a manner peculiar to their power. Athena, goddess of battle and intelligence, is being slowly suffocated by the feathers of her sacred bird, the owl. The feathers fill her lungs and sprout beneath her skin. While many of the gods are resigned to their demise and see their end as a final whim of Fate, Athena, along with the swift Hermes (who is being consumed by his own rapid metabolism), seeks the counsel of Demeter and finds that a war is brewing. Led by Hera, some gods are determined to survive--even if it means slaughtering their own kind. Their only hope? A teenage girl named Cassandra--no mere mortal, but the reincarnation of Cassandra of Troy, prophet, sister of Hector, and love of Apollo.

The first in a trilogy, Antigoddess (and let's just go ahead and get this out there--this is a baffling and terrible name for the book) is an entertaining, if uneven novel that is the latest offering in the young-adult-if-only-we-were-supernatural genre. 

There's a lot here we've seen before: the co-dependent mortal/immortal love affair (it's always baffling to me when immortal creatures fall in love with nubile young teenagers; one would think the passing of centuries would make a relationship with anyone susceptible to Bieber-fever a tedious proposition at best), the requisite showdown at a house party, and the battle lines drawn between two supernatural armies whose collective fate rests on the shoulders of a human who is more than she appears to be. And while I know it will not bother the target audience, to have the gods appear as young adults is problematic to me. No explanation is given as to why they seem to be perpetually stuck in the Proactiv Skin Care years. In my imagination, Athena (my favorite goddess) has always loomed like an Amazon, tall, strong, mature. To think of her with tattooed wrists and purple streaks in her hair? Hermes sporting Hollister? Apollo in a hoodie? By Hades's balls, I'd rather French kiss Cerberus than think of the majesty of gods reduced to trendy mall fashion. 

Buuuuttttt . . . having said all that, there's an undeniable charm to what Blake's peddling here and it's far more successful than the Percy Jackson series. Sure, the gods lack characterization, but haven't they always? And, sure, they sometimes behave like mortals, but that's always been part of their appeal. Treading like giants and with powers beyond human comprehension, they still fell prey to very human weaknesses: love, hubris, envy. Blake also knows her stuff and it's fun to see her weave the tale of Troy into a modern day setting as Hector, Andromache, Odysseus, and Circe's coven make appearances alongside Hera, Aphrodite, Poseidon, Artemis, and Apollo. Throw in a cyclops, a Nereid or two, and an author with a sharp sense of humor--well, you could find worse ways to spend a Saturday afternoon.

Almost Exceeds the Cool Quotient

Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist
by Rachel Cohn and David Levithan
Published by Ember
3 Out of 5 Stars

Nick and Norah meet in a punk rock club one night when Nick asks Norah to be his 5 minute girlfriend. Why? Because Nick's ex, Tris, is in the club with her new man and Tris broke Nick's heart. From that point on, Nick and Norah recognize the chemistry between them, but their feelings are compromised by their previous relationships.

The book is okay. Just okay. Told in stream-of-consciousness chapters alternating between Nick's point of view and Norah's, some of it becomes repetitive (although this technique does allow the reader to see how each experienced and interpreted various situations differently). 

My main complaint: Nick and Norah are cool. Obnoxiously cool. They are so much smarter and edgier than everyone else and, here's the thing with characters like that, there are people who are genuinely edgy and cool and original--and then there are those who are trying too hard to be so. Nick and Norah fall into the "trying too hard" category. They make obscure cultural references (many of which seem to be more in keeping with the time period of the authors' teenage years and not so much today's teens; for instance, maybe the movie Heathers and the television show My So Called Life are still a big deal to today's teenage crowd, but I somehow doubt it), they have both have a single-minded devotion to on-the-fringe punk bands, and engage in endless fashion critiques regarding what a person's dress reveals about character. They're trying so hard I wonder if and when they'll ever have any fun in life.

Girls Need More Coraline, Less Barbie

Coraline
by Neil Gaiman
Published by HarperCollins
4 Out of 5 Stars

Creepy, quirky, and all things to be expected of a Gaiman novel, this is one of those books that I wish had been available to me as a young 10 to 12 year old when all I had to fall back on was the Nancy Drew series. There was certainly nothing this twisted and delightfully dark on the shelves of the school library. As a heroine, Coraline is a likable, brave girl who takes matters into her own hands when her parents are kidnapped by a dark force that should scare her shitless. Young girls, force-fed Barbie worship and Twilight-y longing for an undead mate, need books like these because, frankly, that much exposure to all things pink and sparkly eventually gets boring. I also like that Gaiman sidesteps the whole "it was just a dream" scenario and ends with enough evidence that Coraline's experience was just what it was--a daunting quest undertaken by an undaunted little girl.

Might Be Contagious for the Right Audience

Rash
by Pete Hautman
Published by Simon & Schuster Books for Young Readers
3 Out of 5 Stars

My immediate thought after finishing Rash: Huh. For it is a peculiar novel. And I'm still not entirely sure what to say about it. I enjoyed it, but didn't love it. However, I think its target audience would love it. That audience is teen and preteen boys, and heaven (aka Barnes and Noble) knows there aren't enough books out there for them. 

The novel is set in the not too distant future of the United States, which is now known as the USSA (United Safer States of America). In this dystopian-lite future, anything that is dangerous to one's safety has been outlawed: no drinking, no smoking, no contact sports, no fast food, no foul language. Children can't play outside without the appropriate safety gear. Most of the populace is taking a cocktail of drugs to maintain their health and well-being (including Levulor, which dampens the instinct toward anger). The reason for the emphasis on safety is that it has significantly increased the lifespan of the average human. The trade-off is that one really can't enjoy that extra-long life. (And if you think this future is a ridiculous hypothesis, look at national, state, and city legislation attempting to yank toys out of Happy Meals, make walking and using an electronic device illegal, implement Body Mass Index requirements at public schools, etc.)

In this society, even the most minor of infractions can be a criminal offense that sends you to a prison work farm. These work farms perform the potentially "dangerous" (by this futuristic society's standards) jobs no one else wants to do. They produce goods and produce, and they also maintain the nation's infrastructure. Bo Marsten's famously short-tempered family knows this first hand: his father (convicted of road rage) works at a shrimp farm and his brother works on a road crew. It's only a matter of time before Bo's own temper gets the better of him and he's sent to a production facility in the arctic that is run by a football fanatic who arranges illegal sporting events for his own entertainment. Because of Bo's ability to run faster than anyone else, it isn't long before he's recruited to the team and learns first hand what pain really feels like.

There are a lot of draws here for teenage boys: very short chapters, rapid fire pacing, frequent changes in topic (you'd almost think Hautman himself is ADD as frequently as events and settings change), a futuristic society whose ridiculousness makes it simultaneously frightening and funny, and, of course, football. 

And I Am Outta Here

I Am Number Four
by Pittacus Lore
Published by HarperCollins
1 Out of 5 Stars

You know the most suspenseful, well-written part of I am Number Four? The cover: "Three are dead. I am number four." Pretty kick ass, huh? I certainly thought so, which is why I read it. Now I wish I had just left it on the shelf and let the power of those two lines remain my only association with the novel. 

I'm about to point out several flaws to which many people will say, "Yeah, but it's young adult fiction." To them I say that just because a novel is labeled as "young adult" doesn't excuse sloppy writing, simplistic plotting, and stock characters that make the cardboard cut-outs of Will Ferrell at the local movie theater look three dimensional, complex, and full of depth. There is some damn fine young adult science fiction out there (I offer The Hunger Games trilogy by Suzanne Collins or theChaos Walking trilogy by Patrick Ness as prime examples of intelligent, well-written young adult fare), but I Am Number Four should not be listed among them. 

The initial premise is that Number Four (aka John Smith) is an alien from Lorien who, along with nine other children, was sent to earth as a small child to escape the destruction of his planet by the Mogadorians. The plan is for the children to survive and later return to repopulate the planet. Knowing the Mogadorians would hunt the children down, they are bound together by a charm that prevents them from being killed out of their numeric order. When one of them is killed, a spiral scar is seared into the leg of the remaining Loriens, signaling the threat level to the next in line. So far, so good. This is, unfortunately, when the whole thing starts falling apart:

1) Lorien was a planet that was being destroyed by pollution and mistreatment of natural resources by its populace. Fortunately, before it was too late, the Lorien people got their collective act together to save the planet. As a thank you, the planet gave powers known as legacies to some of the citizenry. These legacies begin to manifest as a Lorien becomes a teenager and, guess what?, if you save your planet right now, you don't just get one superpower, you don't even get two superpowers, you get a whole shitload of superpowers! These include hands that glow like flashlights (lame), the ability to communicate with animals (meh), a fireproof body (getting better), invisibility (now this could be something worthwhile), and telekinesis (Yahtzee!). The overt environmental message here is blatant and didactic: save your planet and your planet just might hug you back by giving you some really cool shit.

2) Not every Lorien receives powers. Those who got the planetary shaft in this deal became known as "cepans" whose job was to train and protect those with legacies. Why? If you have magic powers, why do you need a bodyguard? When the Lorien nine were sent to earth, each was given their own cepan to help raise and protect them until their legacies became evident. This makes a little more sense, but also raises the question of why didn't they send young adults whose powers had already matured to earth? Instead, Lorien is basically destroyed by the Mogadorians and the fate of the Lorien race is put on pause while they wait for their saviors to stop drooling and shitting themselves. Apparently, "intelligence" was not one of the legacies bestowed upon the Loriens. 

3) There's not a single authentic character in the entire novel. John is bland vanilla-ville. He complains and whines his way through the novel. Sarah's sweetness is gag-reflex inducing and, despite the inevitable romance between the two, there's absolutely no chemistry. They seem to have fallen in love in the span of 5 nanoseconds and then spend the rest of the novel swapping the vapid sweet-nothings typical of a couple in a Valentine's Day commercial for Zales. 

4) For two people who have spent the last several years hiding and trying to survive long enough to return to Lorien, John and his cepan, Henri, seem intent on getting their asses handed to them. They both know that the three other Loriens have been killed, they know the Mogadorians are closing in, and they know John is number four. So what do they do? John openly uses his powers and draws more attention to himself than a neon light outside a strip club, Henri goes and stirs up a nest of Mogadorians in a town two hours away, etc. However, do they get the hell out of Dodge? Nope. John manages to convince Henri every time that he's tired of moving and he's finally in love, concerns that are legitimate IF YOU'RE NOT FREAKIN' NUMBER FOUR! I would think all of these would take a backseat to the fact that John's number is literally up. 

5) Simplistic writing with only the vaguest descriptive touches. The one that really killed me was "It's a great house. A classic family home with bedrooms on the second floor, an attic where one of her brothers has his room, and all of the living spaces - the living room, dining room, kitchen and family room - on the first floor." What teenage boy has walked into a house and thought, "You know, this really is a classic family home? I love the layout. Very traditional." 

6) A flaw unrelated to the book: I've seen the movie previews and noted that Timothy Olyphant plays Henri (I won't lie--this, too, initially drew me to the book). Dear God, do not let this connection forever ruin Raylan Givens for me. 

I could go on, but I won't. Basically, the author has taken equal parts Superman, X-Men, and Twilight, blended them together in a concoction as delightful as swill and served it with a heaping side-order of teenage angst, a la "I feel so out of place and no one understands me. Maybe it's because I'm really different. Special. And not the short bus special, but really special special." Having said all of this, pre-teens and teens may love the book--in fact, many of my 10th grade students think it's the most awesome thing ever. I'm in favor of anything that gets them to read, but this is too predictable for most adults or teenagers with more literary sensibilities.

Gaiman's Otherworldly Look at Childhood

The Graveyard Book
by Neil Gaiman
Published by HarperCollins
4 Out of 5 Stars

What a dark, macabre, and lovely book. Occasionally, I run across a book like this that gives me hope for young adult fiction (The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins is another such book that I read earlier this year). 

I know that the book is loosely based on Rudyard Kipling's The Jungle Book, which I've never read (of course, I saw the Disney movie, but I'm assuming they managed to bugger that up like they do everything else--although, I will admit to loving Bagheera, mainly because of Sebastian Cabot's great voice). In both, a baby is abandoned to the care of an unlikely family: in Kipling, Mowgli is raised by the various inhabitants of the jungle; in Gaiman, Nobody "Bod" Owens is raised by the unlikely denizens of a forgotten graveyard. Without having read The Jungle Book, my ability to draw any further comparisons between the two ends there, but what I can tell you is that this is a book that I would have loved as a child and that I did love as an adult. It transcends age because it's a well told, intelligent story that doesn't pull any punches. There's always darkness in Gaiman's fiction--tragedies happen to good people and bad people alike, things go bump in the night, happy endings are tinged with the bittersweet, and sometimes the scariest thing in the world is human nature. 

The book begins with the chilling line, "There was a hand in the darkness, and it held a knife." If that isn't an instant hook, I don't know what is. We quickly find that the hand belongs to the man Jack, who has just killed Nobody's father, mother, and sister, and is now intent on killing Nobody, who is just a toddler. From there, the story is told in a series of vignettes that show Nobody growing up, his adventures in the graveyard (a wonderland to a child with an imagination and no fear of death), and his interactions with the dead and undead alike. There are ghosts, ghouls, vampires, witches, werewolves--none of whom are as frightening as the man Jack, who is still pursuing Nobody after all these years.

The only reason I gave this a 4 instead of a 5 is because of just a wee bit of predictability that certainly didn't ruin the story and would probably be missed by someone younger. Highly recommended. 

Delightfully Bizarre Fantasy

The Order of Odd-Fish
by James Kennedy
Published by Delacorte Books for Young Readers
4 Out of 5 Stars

It's difficult to decide what I should say about this book. If I could sum the novel up in one word it would be, well, odd. Or absurd. Or peculiar. And I mean this in the best possible way.The Order of Odd-Fish is a young adult fantasy that drips with the absurdist humor of Monty Python or Douglas Adams. Naturally, this secures me as a fan. 

The novel is about Jo Larouche, an orphan who was found with a note that said, "This is Jo. Please take care of her. But beware--this is a DANGEROUS baby." For that alone, Jo received notoriety, but interest in her quickly fades when it appears that she will be a normal child after all. Jo is raised by Lily Larouche, an eccentric and absent minded former Hollywood starlet who, despite being in her 80's, still parties like she did in her heyday. Through a few twists and turns, Jo and Lily find themselves in Eldritch City, a bizarre land of cockroach butlers, flying ostriches, and the Order of Odd-Fish--a knighthood dedicated to researching bizarre and useless facts when not defending the city. Lily, it seems, was once a member of Odd-Fish. However, after being accused of treason, her memory was wiped and she was exiled to the desert. Now that Lily is home and has her memory back, Jo learns of the circumstances surrounding her birth and a prophecy in which she plays a role in the destruction of the world--finally, Jo realizes just how dangerous she can be.

In the beginning, I wasn't crazy about the novel. I thought it was trying too hard to be bizarre, but once the characters find themselves in Eldritch City, the bizarre quality feels right. I would highly recommend the novel to young adult fantasy fans.  

Don't Wait to Meet Audrey

Audrey, Wait!
by Robin Benway
Published by Razorbill
4 Out of 5 Stars

What to do when you come to the realization that, behind the pretty packaging, your boyfriend is basically a self-centered, narcissistic asshat? If you have a brain in your head, you dump him, of course. And that is precisely what Audrey does. Normally that would be the end of the story--except that Audrey's boyfriend has his own band, a modicum of talent, the inspiration for the ultimate break-up song, and a record executive coming to see his gig on the same night that Audrey dumps him. And so, out of Mr. Shallow's pain and anguish, the song, Audrey, Wait! is born, and it's not long before it's sweeping the country and racing up the charts. Suddenly, Audrey is famous and not coping so well. 

At first, I thought the idea that Audrey would become so famous for simply inspiring a hit song was a little over the top, but when I look around at the number of people who have become famous for doing absolutely nothing other than allowing cameras to follow them through their every waking moment, I had to admit that it's certainly possible. I like that Benway portrays Audrey realistically, bumbling through her new found fame and making mistakes that exacerbate the situation (such as talking to a reporter who doesn't register sarcasm, finding out a video of her making out with another singer has gone viral, allowing her fame to alienate her from her friends, etc.). I also enjoyed the fact that Audrey and her friends seem authentic. They're sarcastic and intelligent without becoming unbelievably hip, a la Nick and Norah of the infamous Infinite Playlist. There are quite a few funny moments, a fairly predictable romance (but, alas, such is the familiar landscape that is young adult lit), and an intelligent, funny, and strong female character. However, what really sold me on the whole concept is Benway's message about the pitfalls of fame--a message teenagers need to hear in a celebrity crazed, electronic media-based society. All in all, this makes for a fairly enjoyable read for adults, but a winning recipe for the target audience (I say this with authority as my female students love this book).

Great for Young Readers, but Watered Down Mythology for Adult Audiences

The Lightning Thief
by Rick Riordan
Published by Scholastic
3 Out of 5 Stars

I hate trying to review a book like this because I'm never certain if I should review it from the perspective of an adult or from the perspective of the intended audience. As a result, let me take a stab at both.

If I were reviewing the book from my perspective, it would be more of a 2 to a 2 1/2. The book is fun, especially for those who love Greek/Roman mythology, and Riordan has some inventive twists. For instance, the half-blood children of the gods are often diagnosed by their teachers as being dyslexic and ADHD. The dyslexia is a result of their brains being hard-wired to read only in Ancient Greek and the ADHD is the result of their hyper-alert, battle-ready reflexes. When a new character appears, it's also fun to guess which Greek myth is making its appearance as a modern day incarnation. However, the characters, especially Percy and his friends, are flat and never really come to life. The gods also seem watered down; they practically scream PG-appropriate and the gods were, if anything, X-rated in their endeavors. For adults, the Incarnations of Immortality by Piers Anthony or Gods Behaving Badly by Marie Phillips are just as entertaining and able to include all of the sex and violence inherent in the original mythology. Also, my biggest pet peeve--why did Riordan feel the need to make Pallas Athena, a virgin goddess, the mother of so many children? I don't see the necessity of such a blatant disregard for myth; the plot offers no explanation or justification for this erroneous portrayal. And it doesn't seem the slightest bit necessary as Annabeth never seems to do anything worthy of "Wisdom." Wouldn't it have been just as easy for the character of Annabeth to be the daughter of Demeter or Aphrodite? 

Having said all of this, back when I would have been part of the target age group (I'm guessing 9-12), I would have loved this series. If I had children, I would gladly purchase every book and read them together. I can see where children would love the constant adventure and the gods and monsters that appear on practically every other page. If a series like this can get children to read and to love mythology, then that's definitely worth a 3 star rating.

How to Write a Young Adult Novel

How Not to be Popular
by Jennifer Ziegler
Published by Delacorte Books for Young Readers
4 Out of 5 Stars

Definitely one of my more enjoyable forays into young adult literature. Sugar Magnolia "Maggie" Dempsey is the surprisingly well-adjusted daughter of hippie parents. While loving and supportive, her restless parents uproot Maggie every few months and move to another part of the country. As a young girl, Maggie loved the adventure and diversity of her parents' nomadic lifestyle. However, Maggie is now in high school and this latest move has resulted in a break-up with her first serious boyfriend. Tired of making friends only to tearfully leave them a few months later, Maggie decides that she will protect herself this time by refusing to make friends. Thus begins her quest to become unpopular.

The book is laugh out loud funny as Maggie does her best to shun popularity through a series self-inflicted, horrifyingly embarrassing situations. The problem is that she's unwittingly setting trends as she goes against the social hierarchy of her new school. No matter how hard she tries to be a social outcast, she becomes the new "it" girl.

What makes the novel so relatable is Maggie. Maggie's smart, but not precocious. She's level-headed, but not so much so that she doesn't screw things up along the way. She's neither obnoxiously mature or immature--she just seems like a real teenager. And, to top it all off, she's funny and not wistfully pining for a vampire--my current requirements for young adult heroines.

Shusterman Envisions a Strange Resolution to the Abortion Debate

Unwind
by Neal Shusterman
Published by Simon & Schuster Books for Young Readers
3 Out of 5 Stars

I'm a little on the fence about this one. Shusterman has created a fully realized future, and that's definitely part of the genius of this young adult novel. When authors write about the not-too-distant future, the world about which they write is completely unrecognizable (too many new gadgets, too many new species from outerspace, too many shifts in cultural view) which is fine but, for me, it sometimes causes a disconnect. I can't really empathize or identify with the characters because I can't relate. Shusterman's future is at once recognizable and vastly different from our own, which only adds to the horror of Unwind. 

In the novel, children who are unwanted at the age of 13 (for a variety of reasons: they're juvenile delinquents, they're not artistically talented enough, they fail to show intellectual prowess, or they have simply been abandoned) can be "unwound" for spare body parts. Because medical science has perfected a process that allows for every part of the unwind's body to be grafted onto the recipient's body and because the unwind never "dies" (the unwind is awake and conscious through the entire process), then this practice is acceptable because it saves the lives of others without technically ending a life. Medical science no longer bothers with trying to cure disease; they simply replace affected body parts with healthy young ones. 

In addition to this fascinating premise is the shift in religous thought. Parents who are zealous in their religious beliefs begin tithing their 10th child to show their piety to God and, in this world, it's easy to attain 10 children as the practice of "storking" is acceptable by law. Storking is the law that allows the mothers of unwanted children to dump their children on the doorstep of an affluent house, so long as they are not caught in the act of doing so (even this act is religiously based; the law cites the story of Moses as the first "storking"). The "storked" family is required, by law, to take the child into their own family--thus, tithing also becomes a socially acceptable way of getting rid of children one does not want. Tithed children are raised from birth knowing that they will be unwound and are accordingly treated like martyrs.

Here's my main complaint with the novel. All of the above sounds like an intriguing premise, but I find fault with the catalyst for all of this social change. In the novel, the abortion issue becomes such a heated debate that it eventually leads to the Second Civil War, known as The Heartland War, in which the Pro-Life and Pro-Choice proponents literally go to war. After a prolonged battle in which we can assume many lives were lost, the process of "unwinding" is proposed as a compromise to end the war. Since a child can be retroactively unwound at the age of 13, the Pro-Choice side is appeased and, since the child never technically dies, the Pro-Life side is appeased. To which I call "bullshit." Because such a solution doesn't take into account the motivation behind each side of the issue. 

Granted, there are shades of gray all over the place when we talk about abortion, but, for Pro-Choice proponents, the issue is about a woman's right to have control over her body and not be forced into an unwanted pregnancy. So how would being able to unwind a kid later on appeal to the Pro-Choice advocates? If a kid is 13, they're now a separate entity from the mother and, in addition, the mother has already had to endure the physical part of an unwanted pregnancy. Kind of defeats the whole premise of the Pro-Choice argument, no? And as for the Pro-Lifers, I think it's safe to say most are fundamentalist Christians who would never be like, "Oh, so the kid doesn't 'die' since he or she is still alive when we slice and dice them? Well, golly gee, why didn't we think of this sooner?" If that were okay with them, then I think they might not be so vocal on the stem cell debate as, technically, that's what unwinding is--using one life to save another life. 

So in the final analysis, I think that's where Shusterman dropped the ball. Granted, it could be argued that both sides might be willing to consider such a flawed proposal simply to end a violent and bloody war, but I doubt it. Still, I would highly recommend the book for its intended audience as it presents an action-based story that's not didactic in its presentation of the issue and will motivate teenagers to think about it in new and different ways. 

Hungry for More by Collins

The Hunger Games
by Suzanne Collins
Published by Scholastic Press
5 Out of 5 Stars

I freely admit that young adult novels are not my thing and, at the age of 30 something, I'm not sure that they should be. However, I appreciate that they are geared to a specific audience and they get that audience to read (and I did my time with Sweet Valley High and The Babysitter's Club *cringe* in junior high and turned out just fine--sort of). Typically, however, there's just too much teen angst, star crossed lovers, and sparkly men for my taste. Now, having said that, The Hunger Games was a great novel. Two teenagers are chosen from the twelve districts that make up Panem (what was once the U.S.) to participate in the Hunger Games, a fight to the death televised on national television as a reminder of who is really in control of this impoverished dystopian future. Suzanne Collins doesn't pull any punches--there is violence and there are several deaths in the arena, but they are portrayed with just the right touch (not too graphic, but also not too watered down). There are some nice plot twists (another complaint I often have with young adult--they're usually predictable to more sophisticated readers) and finally, finally, finally a strong female character who can take care of herself inside and outside of the arena. 

Catching Fire

by Suzanne Collins

Published by Scholastic Press

4 Out of 5 Stars

While not as good as The Hunger Games, Catching Fire is definitely a worthy sequel. The reason I say it's not quite as good as the first is that the originality of The Hunger Gamescaught me completely off-guard. That impact was somewhat diminished with the second novel since I now had a sense of what I was getting into.

The first part of the book is a little boring, as most sequels are. You have the exposition that reminds you of certain key events in the last book and then you are introduced to the life Katniss is living after winning The Hunger Games. What should have been a victory over the corrupt Capitol and President Snow, however, has resulted in several Catch-22s for Katniss. Because of the popularity of the star-crossed lovers from District 12, Katniss knows she can never be with Gale. Even worse, Katniss finds that her defiance of President Snow has stirred up rebellion in several districts. Katniss is ordered to diffuse the situation during the victory tour, which proves to be impossible as the underground rebellion is using the mockingjay (Katiniss's symbol in the arena) as their symbol; Katniss is now the unwitting face of the rebellion. What's a totalitarian government in a dystopian future to do? There seems to be only one option left--throw Peeta and Katniss back into the arena with the victors of past Hunger Games and show the people that even their heroes can not defy the Capitol. 

What I love about these books is the smart, tough heroine who can take care of herself without relying on the protection of, oh, I don't know, say a vampire that sparkles like a disco ball in the sun. The tables are turned here as Katniss feels the need to protect Peeta who, while not a sissy, lacks the ruthlessness necessary to survive in the arena. Katniss is faced with difficult choices and is prepared to make the ultimate sacrifice in order to save her family and her people. As for the ending, which has apparently fuzzed up a lot of folks, I think it is genius and has set into motion many amazing conflicts for the next book. My only complaint is that I want that third book and I want it now. 

Mockingjay

by Suzanne Collins

Published by Scholastic Press

4 Out of 5 Stars

It looks as though the reading public is split pretty evenly on this one. However, I found it to be a fitting end to one of the best young adult series out there (and that is not a compliment to be taken lightly as I only love about 1/4 of the young adult books I read).

The character of Katniss has evolved throughout the books and I think some are disappointed because she's not as bad ass as she was in the beginning of the trilogy. However, I think this is fitting. In the first book, Katniss is a somewhat introverted, anti-social character who only volunteers for the Hunger Games to save her sister, Prim, from being chosen. Katniss never chooses to be a Big Damn Hero. Her first and foremost priority is the survival of her family. By the time we reach the end of the trilogy, Katniss has been through the mental, emotional, and physical trauma of the Hunger Games, the Quarter Quell, and the sadistic threats of President Snow. Like a soldier who has seen the worst humanity has to offer, both within the self and within others, Katniss is suffering from PTSD. She's not as assured and ruthless and, as the politics of both sides ramp up, she's no longer certain as to who she can trust. 

At the hands of the rebels, Katniss is reduced to an ineffective emblem, a rallying point around which the rebellion hopes to win over the general populace. As the Mockingjay, Katniss is removed from real combat and reduced to little more than an ad campaign--but one that is effective. That Katniss has been weakened by the horrific events in her life and by her use as a pawn makes her relatable. Everyone has a breaking point and it may be that Katniss has reached hers.

While Katniss has suffered, Peeta has been completely broken. Tortured by President Snow, Peeta now associates Katniss with danger and as a threat to his life. This conflict adds an interesting angle to the relationship that was developing between them in Catching Fire. I will say no more as the love triangle between Katniss, Gale, and Peeta provides much of the novel's suspense.

The ending is pitch-perfect, but I won't say more than that as it, too, may ruin the experience for many readers. There is violence and bloodshed, but this is ultimately a book about the ruthlessness that exists hand-in-hand with absolute power. The epilogue is also beautifully written and nicely ties up the loose ends to the reader's satisfaction

In The Hunger Games trilogy, Collins has created a series of books that is well-written, inventive, and intelligent--something we see too little of in the young adult section of any bookstore. 

This Knife Dulls by the Trilogy's End: Chaos Walking

The Knife of Never Letting Go

by Patrick Ness

Published by Candlewick Press

5 Out of 5 Stars

In a world where we're bombarded with technology, our senses are often overwhelmed by the amount of noise and it's becoming increasingly difficult to find true quiet anymore (especially since most of us just plug into our computer or iPod as soon as it is quiet). A constant stream of sound and images feed us information, prod us toward rampant consumerism, and entertain us. I've become increasingly aware that many of my students seem uncomfortable with simple quiet--always wanting some sort of noise to help them concentrate and focus. It's sad that our world has become one in which quiet is such a rare and undervalued commodity. And that, according to Patrick Ness, is the inspiration for The Knife of Never Letting Go.

Inventive and unlike anything I've ever read, The Knife of Never Letting Go is billed as a young adult dystopian but there's very little that's young adult about it other than a 13 year old protagonist. In fact, a lot of the language is violent, graphic, and brutal by young adult standards, but it has to be to capture the world that has been created by Ness.

Todd Hewitt is only days away from becoming a man by Prentisstown standards. Prentisstown is a town on New World, a planet that is being "settled" by the people of earth. What's unusual about Prentisstown, though, is that it's a town that consists entirely of men. The women were killed twelve years earlier when the Spackle, the indigenous alien race, utilized germ warfare in an attempt to win the war against the pioneers. The men, however, were not entirely immune to this germ. Instead of killing them, it made every man's inner-thoughts (both verbal and visual) visible to those around him. There are no secrets in the Noise. As a means of coping, some men turn to drink, others attempt to run away, and some kill themselves. Life here is bleak under the totalitarian rule of Mayor Prentiss and the bizarre radical teachings of the holy man, Aaron. As far as Todd knows, Prentisstown is the only place on the planet.

As Todd nears his 13th birthday, he finds something in the swamp that shouldn't exist--silence. Shortly after discovering this peculiarity and unable to find its source, he's forced to flee Prentisstown and go on the run with only his dog, a knapsack of supplies, a hunting knife, and a book written for him by his mother. To tell you the how and why for all of this would be to ruin the suspense that drives the entire novel. Todd struggles for survival and begins to unravel the lies that he's been told his entire life. During his journey, he discovers the truth about New World and about Prentisstown.

The novel is told in first person stream of consciousness, which really works because it's like we as readers are able to "hear" Todd's Noise just as the other inhabitants of Prentisstown would. It also means that we learn as Todd learns and, as his mind shies away to avoid truths that he can't yet accept, information is sometimes withheld from us. In addition, some of the words are written in dialect to help better capture how Todd sounds. There are some unusual narrative techniques used throughout, such as a different font to indicate the Noise of different individuals and animals (that's right--even animals have Noise; I particularly enjoyed the depiction of Todd's dog Manchee) as Todd encounters them. Instead of finding them gimmicky, I thought it a very effective way of visually demonstrating the intrusion of other people's thoughts into one's own.

In some ways, the novel reminded me of the television series Firefly, but only in that these space travelers are the new pioneers. While they have a lot of new technology, the struggle for survival is a very real one and never certain. The novel ends with one hell of a cliffhanger and I find myself for the first time in a long time wanting to dive right into the second novel of the series.

The Ask and the Answer

by Patrick Ness

Published by Candlewick Press

4 Out of 5 Stars 

**Some Spoilers Ahead for Those Who Haven't Read the First Novel**

I didn't so much read the first book in this series, The Knife of Never Letting Go, as inhaled it. Original and disturbing, Ness is not afraid to take some risks as he tells the story of Todd Hewitt, a boy about to become a man in Prentisstown--a town inhabited only by men. As we read, we find out that Todd lives on a colony planet so distant from Earth that it takes decades to get there. Upon arrival, the first colonists went to war with the indigenous inhabitants, the Spackle. In a desperate effort to defeat the invaders, the Spackle release a germ that kills all of the women. The men survive, but with a strange side-effect: they can hear each other's internal monologue. At least this is the story Todd was always told, but when he discovers a real girl in the swamp Todd is forced to flee for his life and learns that everything he thought was true is a lie.

The Ask and the Answer picks up where The Knife of Never Letting Go left off. Todd and Viola, whose uneasy truce forged a devoted friendship, are separated when Mayor Prentiss (the antagonist from the first novel) names himself President, quarantines the women from the men, and establishes martial law in New Prentisstown. As Mayor Prentiss exerts his power, a female rebel force known as the Answer rises against him, and Viola finds herself swept up by their cause. Meanwhile, Todd is forced to do President Prentiss's bidding in order to keep Viola safe. He's put in charge of managing the enslaved Spackle workforce being used to build the New Prentisstown envisioned by the President.

What is so fascinating about the novel is how Ness explores the brainwashing and mind games employed by each side as they use Viola and Todd as expendable pawns in their quest for victory. Viola struggles with the terroristic tactics used by the Answer against innocent civilians in the name of their cause, while Todd is forced to face his shame in killing a Spackle in the first novel as he witnesses the dehumanizing treatment of the thinking and feeling alien race. As Viola and Todd try to navigate the labyrinthine truths, loyalties, and beliefs that are relics from a war that occurred before either of them were born, they begin to question themselves and their trust in each other. This psychological complexity is heightened by the fact that the reader still isn’t sure who the bad guys and who the good guys are—if, in fact, there are any good guys. There are no easy answers and Ness forces readers to think through the complex issues of war, justifiable violence, and racism.

Monsters Of Men

by Patrick Ness

Published by Candlewick Press

3 Out of 5 Stars

If you read my reviews of The Knife of Never Letting Go and The Ask and the Answer, you'll find that I was a smitten kitten with the Chaos Walking series. In the carbon copy world of young adult literature, these are inventive books with powerful themes resonating throughout. I have been anticipating the moment when I would finish the last book in the trilogy, expecting to savor the return to Todd and Viola's world. So what effin' happened that led to a tepid 3 star rating? I'm still trying to figure it out.

Maybe it was series fatigue or maybe I waited too long between reading books 2 and 3 (I hate getting locked into series books, so that is a possibility). For whatever reason, Monsters of Men never grabbed me in the way the first two books did. It felt repetitive. War with the Spackle, conflict between Mayor Prentiss and Mistress Coyle, Todd and Viola don't know what to do, and round and round it goes. Each time I picked up the book, I felt like it was Groundhog Day--I could have sworn I read the same damn thing yesterday. The war is somewhat anticlimactic and I never felt any real tension. I'm rather out of sorts about this because I feel as though I somehow let down the book instead of the book letting me down. Did I miss something? Is there something I'm just not getting? These are the thoughts that plague me because I wanted, nay, needed to love this book. And I just didn't. Todd and Viola's angst over being separated is irritating to me because I could not for the life of me understand why they insisted on being apart ("Just walk your ass up the damn hill, Todd," I kept encouraging him throughout, but he never listened), Mayor Prentiss doesn't seem like that big of a bad ass threat, and the one twist the novel is relying on is fairly predictable.

Despite this, I liked the addition of the narration from 1017's point of view. Told in the language of the indigenous people of New World, Ness does a good job of making the voice seem alien and foreign. These chapters are somewhat difficult to read in terms of adjusting to the syntax and invented phrases, but it added to my ability to believe in the Spackle as a separate sentient species from humans. Also, the questions raised (is there morality in war, what makes a terrorist, how do we know when we can trust our leaders, is violence ever justified) are all complex and worthy of our attention. Ness skillfully asks these questions without glorifying war nor necessarily vilifying it, which makes this an above average young adult read.