#info 5425

Let me just go ahead and say it: Gail Carriger’s YA Steampunk novel has just the best cover--the background design with the floral motif and gears, the model, the dress, and the random scissors...I can’t get enough of it. 

I’ve been a fan of the Steampunk aesthetic for a while now--let’s just call it a remnant of my days studying Gothic literature in college. Replace monsters and repression with self-aware machines and inventions and you have Steampunk. While some ladies are still treated with kid gloves and taught to eschew all non-ladylike behavior in this genre, there is a rebellious streak that comes with the scientific innovation of the genre. 

Sophronia Temminnick is an incorrigible teenager, and her poor mother is at her wit’s end with the girl’s climbing, tinkering, and snooping. Luckily for Sophronia’s mother, a chance encounter (that was naturally, perfectly orchestrated) with the proprietress of Mademoiselle Geraldine’s Finishing Academy for Young Ladies of Quality leads to an option for finishing school--meaning that Sophronia is out of her hair while being trained in the arts of womanhood. Sophronia, naturally, abhors the very idea. However, Sophronia soon learns that all is not quite as it seems at the finishing academy when their carriage is set upon by flywaymen, who seem to be after some sort of mysterious device called simply “the prototype.” Everyone else seems to know more about Miss Geraldine’s school than Sophronia, but no one will tell her what’s going on! It is quite frustrating for the girl.  

When they finally arrive at Miss Geraldine’s academy, it becomes obvious that this a very special place. The academy itself is a giant hovercraft that floats above the moors--practically undetectable at any given time. Miss Geraldine is, of course, not the woman who came to collect Sophronia, but rather an unassuming woman who has no idea that school is actually a training academy for young spies. Sophronia is a “covert recruit”--a young woman with no family connections who is given very little information about the school while she is in her probationary period. Hijinks ensue when the prototype that the flywaymen are after disappears, and the school is targeted by those dastardly men. Sophronia is under the impression that a fellow student has hidden the device to sell to the highest bidder, and she embarks on a mission to find the prototype and return it to the school. 

If all of this sounds a little too chintzy for your tastes...this book is probably not for you. It has fun Steampunk technology and a delightful cast of characters, but the language is overly cutesy and reads like a less sophisticated version of a Georgette Heyer novel. I mean that in the fondest sense, of course, but it can be a little bit too much at times. Take, for example, this passage: 

Despite her beauty, she looks, thought Sophronia, a little like a crow. She stared down at her feed and tried to come up with an excuse for her behavior, other than spying on people. “Well, I simply wanted to see how it worked, and then there was this--”

Her mother interrupted. “How it worked? What kind of question is that for a young lady to ask? How often have I warned you against fraternizing with technology?”

Sophronia wondered if that was a rhetorical question and began counting up the number of times just in case it wasn’t. Her mother turned back to their guest.

“Do you see what I mean, mademoiselle? She’s a cracking great bother.”

“What? Mumsy!” Sophronia was offended. Never before had her mother used such language in polite company. 

If the idea of a mechanical dog named Bumbersnoot or a mysterious group of gangsters called Picklemen immediately sets your teeth on edge, I suggest avoiding this book at all costs. 

However, if you are up for a little bit of a romp, replete with werewolves, vampires, dirigibles, and cross-dressing Victorians, this may just be the book for you. It has a few madcap adventures (but far too many of those adventures involve outsmarting “mechanicals” which is just a bit boring), budding female friendships, and the barest hints of romance to come. It is tame, to be sure, and a little immature, but the protagonist is only 14. Sophronia’s naivete can be grating at times (especially when she meets a black man for the first time in her life...my god I almost tossed the book aside at that moment), but towards the end of the novel readers see more of the strong and compassionate young woman Sophronia will become. If the remainder of the series follows the Harry Potter structure of storytelling (that is, one book per school year), Sophronia and her friends will grow up and experience darker and more dangerous things. The plot was a bit unsophisticated and predictable, and it certainly has problematic elements, but it might be a fun read for a middle school girl. 

3/5 Stars

This is the second time I’ve written this post, because sometimes the internet is a mysterious place and doesn’t save my drafts and instead consumes them and leaves me with nothing but my ideas. Pity me, people!

It is fiiiiine, I’ll be fine. I’m just going to go pour myself a glass of wine and put on some chill music, I’ll be right back. 

*brief musical interlude*

Alright. Here we are, discussing Hannah Hart’s incredible memoir, Buffering. I don’t mean to sound like a fangirl when I say this, but I am kind of obsessed with Hannah. I have been watching her youtube videos for years, and her spoof cooking show “My Drunk Kitchen” never fails to cheer me up when I’ve had a bad day. However, I wasn’t entirely sure what to expect with her memoir. I know Hannah had a pretty dark past, but it is something that always felt a little hidden from her internet personality, because she is such an optimist and very forward-looking. Even though I really enjoy her content, I wasn’t sure that I would enjoy her memoir. Mainly, I worried that it would be too navel-gazing and self-serving, as some celebrity memoirs tend to be. So, until this week, I avoided reading it. This is the last week of my class in trends and topics in YA literature, and we are discussing adult books with teen appeal. Each year, the ALA presents 10 authors with an Alex Award, which are books specifically written for adults that have strong appeal to teens. Buffering was one of the committee’s selections last year, so when I saw that it was included on our reading list this week, I decided to take a chance on it. 

This memoir was, in a word, unexpected. I was full of trepidation when I started it, and I certainly wasn’t expecting a quiet reflection on mental illness, family, spirituality, and sexuality. The memoir is told as a series of essays that do not follow a chronological order. It actually feels more like a formal blog, which has an overarching theme, that tells the story in a series of related posts. This makes sense, considering Hannah Hart is best known as an internet personality. The book is at its best when ruminating on family: Hannah’s relationship with her mother, sisters, and father help to build the foundation for the memoir. A chapter about her burgeoning sexuality also presented a superb discussion of first love and coming to terms with one’s sexuality. 

Hannah Hart’s mother is a paranoid schizophrenic, but when they were growing up, Hannah and her older sister just thought her mom talked to herself a lot. They made up stories about how she was on the phone with friends and family for hours at a time, even though their home’s power had been cut. Hannah’s mother’s delusions ran the gamut: from the fear of a prowler outside the house, to the fear that the government was engaged in a conspiracy against them. However, her paranoia taught Hannah to be cautious at times, which came in handy when a lonely 10-year-old Hannah decided to run away one summer day. She had barely made it down the street when a man in a white van approached her and asked her for directions--then demanded she get in the car. Hannah was conflicted, because her father, a Jehovah’s Witness preacher, always taught her to respect and obey her elders, but her mother taught her to be afraid of everything. Hannah, fortunately, told the man to buzz off, which is good because he most certainly was attempting to kidnap her. This moment is surreal because it is almost too cliche: of course there was a creepy man in a white van attempting to kidnap her, the first and only time she tried to run away as a 10 year old child. If this wasn’t a memoir, I’d be annoyed, but that really happened. 

Hannah’s father left their family, but the girls were court-mandated to visit their father each month. The first thing her father and stepmother did, whenever they saw Hannah and her sister, was order them to bathe. They thought the girls were slovenly and unclean (and, by all accounts, they were), but forbade them from taking the fresh clothes, underwear, and toothbrushes back to their mother’s house with them. It is clear how much these interactions irreparably damaged Hannah’s relationship with her father. Her father was also deeply homophobic, and his views on the matter colored her own sexual development in harmful ways. 

Hannah’s childhood was spent in a home festering with rot, spiders, flies, dust, and dirt. One of the most poignant essays details the time an adult Hannah brought her girlfriend to visit her mother. Hannah was convinced the meeting went as well as it possibly could have, but her girlfriend left feeling terrified that Hannah’s mother could, and would, harm Hannah at the first chance. This incident created a lot of inner turmoil for Hannah, because what she had perceived as “normal” for her entire life was, essentially, an elaborate lie she had been telling herself. 

The book feels cathartic, in a sense, because it connects the dots between Hannah’s upbringing and her own mental health struggles. She is frank about self-harm and reiterates that the urge to self-harm never really goes away, but she manages it with therapy, medicine, meditation, and helping others. Although there are some essays that are less strong than others, the overall book is sharply-written, poignant, and intriguing. Someone could pick up this book without knowing who Hannah Hart is, and be instantly fascinated by her story. It is self-aware without being self-pitying, and quite inspiring when Hannah discusses her and her siblings’ tireless efforts to become primary caretakers of their seriously mentally ill mother. 

Buffering, although ostensibly written for an adult audience, is an excellent read for teens because it focuses on Hannah as a young adult. Her circumstances may be extraordinary, but her thought processes and personal development are relatable. Reading about how she overcame indigence, homophobia, a broken family, and mental illness is inspiring, and her efforts to improve the lives of others through her social media platform and in real life are incredible. The memoir’s frank and honest discussions of spirituality and sexuality are especially excellent because Hart does not gloss over these aspects of her story. This book was certainly worth of an Alex Award, and should be recommended to teens who are interested in the memoir genre. 

I should also mention that I listened to this audiobook, which was read by the author. I cannot recommend this enough, because it makes the experience much more intimate. There are moments in the story where Hannah, as a narrator, becomes overcome with emotion, and it highlights the vulnerability and openness that went into the writing of this story.

If this book doesn’t make you want to give Hannah a hug...I don’t know what to tell you. 

4.5/5 Stars

Confession time: I picked Raina Telgemeier’s book to review because I knew it was a “J” book and would be an easy read for class this week. Finals week is no joke, y’all.  

However, once again, I am astounded by the level of sophistication a middle-grade novel can attain. Earlier in the semester, I read George by Alex Gino, and I shared that I was surprised by the in-depth portrayal of the main character. Although Telgemeier’s story is told in a different format (it is a graphic novel), it also highlights an expertly-crafted portrayal of the main character--which is Raina Telgemeier. Surprise! Smile is the author’s memoir (I can’t be the only one who didn’t know this before reading the book!). The journey of Raina from middle to high school, and all of the orthodontia contained therein, is charming, embarrassing, and overall, deeply relatable. 

Raina is a normal sixth grader at the start of the novel. She’s got a good group of friends, she does Girl Scouts, and she’s a little embarrassed by her family. However, she trips and falls one evening and ends up impacting her two front teeth. This requires extensive orthodontic intervention, and soon Rainia is just another metal-mouth middle schooler. Some of the most comedic moments occur while at the orthodontist’s office, like when they nonchalantly inform her that she’ll need headgear and she (understandably) freaks out. As an author, Telgemeier highlights the most memorable moments of her youth, while balancing those moments out with levity and self-deprecating humor. 

Telgemeier, as an author and illustrator, conveys incredible depth of emotion within this novel’s seemingly simple illustrations. It is easy to see how it would be attractive to young readers because of its bright colors and poignant story, but it also can appeal to young adults because of the “nostalgia” factor. It allows older people to relive their youth, those golden years when the most they had to worry about was embarrassing themselves in front of their crushes. Of course, these moments seem dire when they are occurring, and that is conveyed beautifully through Tegemeier’s images and language. 

I cannot imagine this story being told in any other way. Some stories just require illustration, and this is one of them. It would be one thing to describe what Raina looked like after she had her two front teeth pulled, but it is another thing entirely to see the scene played out in the book. Perhaps this is the reason why graphic novels are becoming popular source material for movies and TV shows--the forms are very visual. Graphic novels convey more with images than words! One of the most delightful aspsects of this novel is watching Raina’s teeth shift and move as her braces fix her dental problems--it isn’t explicitly mentioned, but it is a sign of the book’s attention to detail. 

I haven’t talked much about this here, but I am deeply annoyed by the general opinion that graphic novels are natural “stepping stones” to written novels. Although they may be more accessible to reluctant readers, and can help readers understand plot, setting, theme, and story structure, they are also enjoyable all on their own. Graphic novels require a totally different level of attention than a “regular” novel and should be celebrated as their own unique art form. They are stories, yes, but they are also paintings, line drawings, and digital art creations. When reading a graphic novel, your mind has to be totally engaged so that you can interpret images and words at the same time, whereas in a “regular” novel, your imagination can take over a bit more. Actually, I wonder if there have been MRI scans of people’s brains as they read graphic novels and regular novels--I bet there is a difference in the areas of the brain that are active when reading! 

Anyways, sorry for that digression. I just want people to appreciate graphic novels for what they are, rather than for what they might lead to. But, back to Smile...did I mention that this book was incredibly relatable?  I wish I had this book at any point during the 9 years of my life that I had braces/permanent retainers/headgear/teeth pulled/that time my front tooth was loose and got stuck in my retainer OR that time I swallowed a tooth. I would have felt far less alone!

This graphic novel is wonderful because it has appeal for tweens, young adults, and adults willing to take a chance on a children’s book. It is relatable, funny, wonderfully illustrated, and poignant. It would also make a wonderful addition to a classroom writing curriculum, because it introduces some of the different forms memoir can take. 

I will absolutely be seeking out Telgemeier’s other books. 

5/5 Stars

Liara Tamani’s debut novel is an introspective coming-of-age tale that follows Taja Brown as she progresses through middle and high school, and concludes with her leaving for college. The story focuses primarily on Taja’s experience with religion and her relationship with God, but it also is about first love and growing up. The narrative is delicate and not overly preachy. In reading some other YA books about religion, I noticed that there has been a tonal shift: many more modern texts allow for a narrator to question their previously held beliefs. When Graham Greene did this in The End of the Affair, it was practically controversial. But now, a book with a religious aspect to it almost always has a moment of questioning. I think this makes novels much more realistic; for anyone who blindly accepts what they’ve been told and taught tends to be fanatical and off-putting (or in a cult). Tamani’s novel is full of gorgeous prose and cultural relevance, making it an excellent addition to the realistic fiction genre. 

The novel is told as a series of vignettes: short stories that spotlight certain memorable aspects of Taja’s experience. Taja comes from an extremely religious modern black family, and her parents hold her to a different standard than her older brother--something that Taja begins to take note of as she grows up. Taja is inquisitive and has a budding independent streak that emerges at the beginning of the novel, when she fakes a stomachache to get out of Sunday church services. Taja chooses to commune with God in other ways: tasting forbidden spices (not that kind of spice! Her mother is always telling her to get out of the spice cabinet in their kitchen), listening to gospel music at full blast, and laying in the grass outside. She is young, at first, and isn’t sure if she is allowed to worship in such a way, but she still wonders “If God is everywhere, then why can’t we praise God in our yard?”

Taja’s parents are of the type of evangelical Christianity that professes to “save” souls, and they are pretty ruthless in shutting down any of Taja’s conversations questioning their authority. Her parents are overbearing--which is exemplified in the introductory chapter of the novel, where Taja’s mother is pestering her about whether she’s had a bowel movement that morning. However, her parents are oddly withholding about other normal bodily functions. When Taja begins to menstruate, she has no idea what is happening. Her mother hasn’t prepared her in any way for puberty, but chooses instead to focus on one thing: abstinence. Taja has this message ingrained in her, but still becomes preoccupied with sex. She develops an unhealthy crush on a teacher, a desperation to be kissed, and questions her appearance. Is she sexy enough? Is her skirt too short? Is she trying too hard? Her older brother has relationships with young women and manages to keep it a secret from his parents, but they aren’t as concerned about him as they are Taja. As she begins to exhibit an interest in boys, her parents are quick to remind her that sex before marriage is akin to purchasing a one-way ticket to hell. When she gets her first boyfriend in high school, her parents overstep their boundaries in a big way, by purchasing purity rings and insisting that Taja and her boyfriend sign an abstinence contract. Did they make her older brother sign a contract? No, Taja knows that there are different rules for boys and girls.  

I know this sounds like Taja and her parents have a fraught relationships, and they do, but it is clear that Taja loves and respects them. A particularly poignant passage mentions her father’s love for the saxophone: he went so far as to purchase one, but can’t afford lessons. Sometimes late at night, Taja sees him mimicking playing it, and her heart breaks for him. Taja’s mother is a little less fleshed out. Her redeeming qualities aren’t highlighted in the novel, which I find to be a bit of an oversight. In fact, for a novel that focuses so much on characterization, I never felt like I got to know any of the characters. 

This is a realistic novel, and does not have a lot of “big” moments. The plot follows Taja as she grows up and figures out her own system of beliefs. For Taja, she finds God in the quiet moments: the sun on her skin, the ground under her feet, the song of birds in the air. She does not preach out loud, she keeps her faith inside. This realization is not sudden, it is slow, just like adolescence. 

The pace of the novel may detract some readers, because it is not an intense page turner. However, I think it is a necessary addition to the world of YA realistic fiction. Readers from Taja’s background will find the story chock full of relatable references, and readers who come from different backgrounds are provided with a snapshot into one young woman’s experience. 

Although this book had lovely language and insightful moments, the plot and characters fell a little bit flat for me. However, I think it shows enough of Tamani’s skills as a writer for me to keep an eye on her as an author. She has a distinctive voice and a knack for phrasing, so I look forward to reading whatever comes next!

2.5/5 stars

All I could think about after finishing Feed was, “well....that happened.”

I just don’t feel strongly about this book, I won’t lie. It is considered a foundational text in the dystopian genre, and a satirical look at mass consumerism. It was even a finalist for the National Book Award in 2002, and has a bit of a cult following online. In spite of all these accolades, it just doesn’t do it for me. The plot follows Titus and Violet, two star-crossed teens living in the distant future, where travel to the Moon and Jupiter is de rigeur, and everyone is connected through an implanted device called “the feed.” The Feed is basically Facebook, Twitter, Amazon, and radio commercials all accessed through the mind. Computers, writing, even reading, are things of the past. Everyone talks about “living in the moment” and enjoying life--and they are so unconcerned with things outside of their own existence that the fact that their skin is slowly disintegrating is less of a problem and more of a fashion statement. Titus and his friends meet Violet while partying on the Moon during Spring Break, and Titus knows that Violet is different, somehow. She seems less connected to the Feed than the other people he knows. While at a party, the group of friends are hacked and suddenly left unconnected to the Feed. For a few days, they have nothing but each other for company. While this is occurring, Violet admits to Titus that she didn’t have her Feed installed until she was 7, and that her memories of life before the Feed are beginning to disappear. Once they are reconnected, Violet convinces TItus to disrupt their own feeds--but Violet learns that she cannot self-sabotage: it knows her dreams, it knows her life, it knows her better than she knows herself. Unfortunately, Titus is too connected to his feed to really sabotage it, and he begins to feel uncomfortable with Violet’s anti-feed attitude. That’s when Violet tells Titus that she is dying, and the Feed is destroying her. It is connected to her nervous system, so when it glitches, so does she. Titus, charmer that he is, drops Violet like a hot potato, and decides to just live his life in ignorance.  The book does not feature a scrappy group of teens fighting against an authoritarian regime, like so many other popular dystopian novels. Rather, it features one person who rages against the dying of the light--and that person dies.

There are a few  aspects of this book that make it pretty original. The story is told from Titus’s perspective, and the language of the story is full of strange slang and limited vocabulary. One of the story’s main points is that the culture of the world is slowly dying: art is rare, reading is even more rare, and the human capacity to emote is disappearing. Language has evolved into something practically meaningless. This is conveyed in the dumbed-down and grammatically incorrect language employed by Titus while relating the story. There is also a clip of the story’s President giving a speech at one point, and.... let me just say, I think MT Anderson predicted President Trump, in a bigly way. 

The story is not about why the characters’ skin is falling off, or why the nations of the world have nuclear weapons pointed at them,. If you want answers to these questions, too bad. The book focuses on the relationship between Titus, Violet, and the Feed. The book ends with a haunting refrain from an ad for a denim warehouse sale, echoing, “Everything must go. Everything must go. Everything must go.” 

Although the plot of the novel doesn’t necessarily match that of a “typical” dystopian novel, it does have a haunting and slightly unhappy ending. Keep that in mind when pursuing this book!

Ultimately, I think that this book is an important read because of its style, rather than its plot. It advocates against “the feed” and mass consumerism--but in the last 15 years since this book has been published we have become more connected than ever before. One has to wonder if there will come a day when we are all connected via Feed. I certainly hope not. 

3/5 Stars

This week, in my YA literature course, we discussed magic-adjacent books that are difficult to categorize. The stories that are kind of hard to describe to someone--one person’s paranormal romance is another person’s ghost story. Books that are magical but perhaps not magic enough to warrant being labeled as straight-up fantasy. You know the one’s I’m talking about, right? No? Okay then. Moving along...

When I saw that Akata Witch by Nnedi Okorafor was on the reading list, I was so excited. I had seen the book in the Young Adult section at Barnes and Noble and it had a kickass cover--which was enough to make me want to read it. But then I requested it from my library and saw that it was actually labeled as a J (for “junior”) book and had a totally different cover. Had I hallucinated the book at Barnes and Noble? 

No. Of course not. I was thinking of Akata Warrior. 

(this cover, tho!)

As it turns out, Akata Warrior is the sequel. Akata Witch was published in 2011 under the Viking Children’s imprint of Penguin Books (which explains why it was in the J section of the library). Interestingly, when Akata Warrior was published last year, it was published by Viking Books for Young Readers. I can’t help but wonder why the publisher decided to shift from a children’s imprint to a YA imprint in the middle of the series, but it probably isn’t that big of a deal. I’m just glad I didn’t pick up Akata Warrior that day in the bookstore, because I would have been utterly confused. 

Anyway, since that moment of confusion has been cleared up, onto the review and discussion of Akata Witch by Nnedi Okorafor.  Buckle up, dear readers, because I saw an Amazon blurb that says this book is “The Nigerian Harry Potter!” 

Akata Witch tells the story of Sunny Nwazue, a 12-year-old girl born and raised in America to Nigerian parents, who was uprooted from her comfortable American existence back to her parents’ homeland. She struggles to fit in to the community, not only because she is an American, but also because she has albinism. She stands out when she just wants to blend in--a struggle many a preteen can relate to. One day, Sunny’s white teacher becomes irrationally fed up with her classmate’s behavior, and orders Sunny to whip each child’s hand three times (whaaaat??). Sunny refuses, and the teacher thrashes her classmates instead. This incident causes the school bullies to descent like wolves--she should have just slapped them and been easy about it! When one mild-mannered classmate, Orlu, asks her why she refused to whip them, she confronts him and shouts that he would have done the same thing. This confrontation causes them to strike up a tentative friendship, and soon she is introduced to Orlu’s chatty friend Chichi and her strange mother. Sunny starts feeling like something strange is going on. Everything that’s happening feels a little bit too preordained. Plus, there is the fact that a serial killer on the loose in her community, and she sometimes sees premonitions about the end of the end of the world, so Sunny basically walks around holding her breath. 

That is, until Chichi and Orlu introduce her to Anatov--a guru of sorts. Anatov conducts some tests on Sunny and explains that she, as it turns out, is a Leopard Person. Leopard People are an ancient race of magicians, each born with unique abilities. Sunny’s friends are also Leopard People, and Anatov inducts the three of them, along with another American expat, Sasha, into a new class of students. Sunny must balance her regular schoolwork with her study of juju. It is not easy, and many teens will be able to relate to her overscheduled lifestyle. The world that is built by Okorafor is truly wonderful. The community in which Sunny lives is authentic and gritty, but suffused with just a bit of magic that emerges more and more as Sunny uncovers more of the secrets of juju. As Sunny learns more about her power, excerpts from a history book are included within the text, providing readers with more information about the way that this magical system works. 

Sunny, although she is magical, is entirely relatable. She feels like an outsider even when she is with her three friends, because they have known and studied juju their entire lives. It is rather like being a muggleborn. The four friends, Sunny, Orlu, Chichi, and Sasha are tasked with finding and defeating the serial killer stalking their neighborhood--because the killer is a fellow Leopard Person who is using black magic to summon an evil deity back to Earth. 

The rising action is truly where this book shines. The worldbuilding, language, and characters are all phenomenally detailed, yet in a straightforward manner that is easily comprehended. I thought that the climax of the novel was a little bit of a letdown, but knowing that there is a sequel makes me feel better. I will definitely be seeking out Akata Warrior. 

This book is a delightful blend of fantasy and Nigerian culture and folklore, plus it is a coming-of-age story. It really is the Nigerian Harry Potter! It is a bit difficult to categorize, but I would definitely say it falls under the “fantasy” genre, just as Harry Potter does. It may not be “high” fantasy (like Lord of the Rings) but it is still a fantasy novel. I hate to use the term “low fantasy” because that implies that it is lesser because it is set in the “real” world, but that is the best term that we have to describe it. 

4/5 Stars

This week, we read books featuring dead people. Not the un-dead (that was last week!), I’m talking about the posthumous, sometimes rotting, sometimes ghostly, sometimes mysteriously still walking around characters. As a YA trend, I think it has faded, but for a while, particularly in the post-Twilight years, dead girls seemed to have a bit of a renaissance. We had Before I Fall, If I Stay, and Meg Cabot’s addition to the subgenre, Abandon. Now, I have been a huge Meg Cabot fan ever since Princess Diaries introduced me to Mia Thermopolis, so I was so excited to read this one--it has been on my TBR list for years. 

Picture this: a girl standing at the mouth of the River Styx, watching souls line up to be transported to their final resting place. Suddenly, a familiar figure looms, and he is clearly in charge of the entire operation. The girl is our protagonist, Pierce Oliviera, and at the moment she hasn’t realized that she’s dead. The mysterious figure appears and with a flash of recognition he whisks her away to his lair--ostensibly for the purpose of rescuing her. From what, Pierce doesn’t yet know. All she knows is that she has to get the hell out of there. 

Sounds promising, doesn’t it? Of course, it isn’t that simple. Pierce has met the mysterious man before, when she was seven and saw him bring a dead dove back to life. When she meets him in the afterlife, he conveniently hasn’t aged a day, but she is now 17. If this doesn’t immediately set warning bells off in your mind, you might just enjoy this book. Me? I was just like...

Anyway, somehow Pierce manages to escape the purgatory-like afterlife lair of the mysterious Styx guardian and gets back to her body. As it turns out, she had drowned at the bottom of a frozen pool, but because she had hypothermia, her heart was able to restart with no major ill effects. Her visit to purgatory is cut short when EMTs resuscitate her, but everyone in her life is morbidly fascinated with her NDE. She tries to tell people about her time in purgatory, but everyone tells her that she’s either a) crazy, or b) dreaming. But if it didn’t really happen, how does she still have the mysterious diamond necklace that was given to her for “protection”? She can’t stop thinking about the man who saved her, and when she meets him again in a cemetery, she feels twinges of guilt about the way she abandoned him when she came back to life. Or, if it isn’t guilt...is it something else? Is it LOVE?? That’s right friends, Pierce is in LOVE with the guy she saw once when she was seven and again when she was dead. She doesn’t realize it yet, but everyone else knows it. Not to get too spoilery, but apparently their relationship has been orchestrated for quite some time. 

The narrator smacks Greek mythology over our heads, and we are supposed to immediately buy that this is a sort of Persephone/Hades story--only, that doesn’t exactly pan out. The mythology only serves to remind us of what could have been, had the story been more fully developed. The plot jumps around so much that you practically have to build a Law and Order-style board, complete with red yarn, to connect the dots. Rather than building up narrative tension, the time jumps only serve as frustrating obstacles to just getting to the point already. Cabot’s usually seamless plotting is absent in this novel, as is her characteristic witty dialogue. Pierce is annoyingly incapable of voicing her feelings to everyone she interacts with, and she is upsettingly dense. 

The plot is too convoluted, the characters are predictable and poorly developed, and dialogue is lacking. I’m glad that the whole “dead girl” trend has faded, so that I don’t have to feel guilty by not recommending this book. Read The Mediator instead, friends! It has sexy dead guys, witty dialogue, fully-fleshed supporting characters, and an interesting setting. This one has none of those things, but it does have insta-love. 

A true coming of age tail.

AKA, a discussion of Real Mermaids Don’t Wear Toe Rings by Hélène Boudreau. 

I am having a mermaid moment, thanks to a viewing of The Shape of Water, which isn’t exactly a mermaid story, but it is close enough to make me feel googly-eyed towards all aquatic/human hybrids at the moment. I think that movie really highlights a cultural shift towards a more highbrow acceptance of light fantasy. Mermaids have often been the stuff of preteen romances and children’s stories for ages, but there has been a gradual shift towards adult interest in these kinds of stories. Books (and movies!) that are able to root their fantastic elements in reality, with science that--at least on paper--sounds legitimate, help this genre become more accepted. Real Mermaids Don’t Wear Toerings might not be geared towards the same audience, but it has a careful balance of realistic and fantasy that makes it compelling. 

Plus, I listened to this book after I required an aural palate cleanser thanks to Shiver (spoiler alert: the audiobook is terrible). I was a little nervous diving in, because the narrator sounds like an adult trying just a liiitle bit too hard to sound like young teen girl, but I accepted it and was able to move on.

This book was a delight.

It opens with the all-too-familiar scene: a young woman getting her first period. The book was seriously realistic in its depiction of menstruation’s onset. It is confusing, gross, and inconvenient! There are very few books, and even fewer YA books, that really discuss what it feels like for a girl. But of course, the onset of her ladytimes isn’t the only thing that happens to Jade...no, she finds out that she’s a real-life mermaid when she takes an epsom-salt bath to relieve her cramps, falls asleep, and wakes up when she sprouts a tail. She shouts for her dad and...he’s not surprised. Apparently, her late mother was a mermaid who was able to transition to human. And, apparently, there is scientific evidence that mermaids are just another branch on the evolutionary tree so it isn’t totally crazy for Jade to be part mermaid. 

Except of course, it is. Jade makes a painful transition back to human, but she doesn’t know when she is going to become aquatic again. This nagging thought prevents Jade from fully engaging in normal teenage activities--her dad forbids her from telling her best friend about her condition (with good reason!), and she seems unable to properly flirt with an old friend because her mind is constantly on her “pesco-sapienism” and the fact that her mom, a mermaid, drowned a year ago. How’s that even possible? Jade is determined to find out. 

 *spoilers ahead*

 As it turns out, Jade’s mom isn’t dead. She’s trapped by some mermaid mercenaries in a lake, unable to escape. Jade has to rely on her intuition and inner strength to concoct a plan that saves her mother. This task obviously takes priority over her friendships and relationships, so Jade finds herself telling more lies to the people who matter to her—and getting out of those lies is not small feat. She tests the boundaries of friendship just to keep her secret safe, yet in the end her friends end up understanding what she’s going through (even if she can’t be totally honest about the whole mermaid thing…except to her crush, because he’s a mermaid too?!). Jade’s story is truly a coming-of-age tale. It has a fast-paced plot that is full of action, it has witty characters who speak in a slightly-more-eloquent version of a typical young teen, and it has parents who are actually invested in their children’s lives. Jades relationship with her father is really impressive: they are both very open with each other when it is important. There have been many young adult novels that detail the dissolution of the family unit when one parent dies, so it was nice to read a book where the father and daughter share a strengthened bond. Even if Jade’s mother isn’t actually dead! 

Although the book could be read as a stand-alone (it feels quite complete), it is the start of a four-book series. It is quite short and therefore ideal for younger teens. If I were to get overly specific, I would say that this book is a light-fantasy/young adult/coming-of-age story. Recommended for tweens, teens, and mermaid aficionados. 

Nancy Pearl’s Doorways: Story and Character 

3.5/5 Stars