Usually I hate taglines on book covers,* but the tagline on the cover of Megan Miranda’s Fracture says it all,
A lot can happen in eleven minutes.
That line is from this early passage in the novel, which creates the premise of this fascinating debut,
A lot can happen in eleven minutes. Decker can run two miles easily in eleven minutes. I once wrote an English essay in ten. No lie. And God knows Carson Levine can talk a girl out of her clothes in half that time.
Eleven minutes might as well be eternity underwater. According to the lessons from health class, it only takes three minutes without air for loss of consciousness. Permanent brain damage begins at four minutes. And then, when the oxygen runs out, full cardiac arrest occurs. Death is possible at five minutes. Probable at seven. Definite at ten.
Decker pulled me out at eleven.
I love to buy books. Ebooks, paper books, whatever. I simply love to own books. It’s probably a disease of some sort.
Sure, I use my library, especially my library’s ebook collection (more on that in a minute), since it always nice to visit my library without the hassle of, you know, leaving the house. But, ultimately, I feel good about buying books, because I know that it supports the people who create the books I love—authors, yes, but also the editors and book designers and everyone else who’s involved in the creation and curation* of what’s on our shelves, virtual or physical.
However, as much as I love buying books, I hate feeling manipulated.
And with the combination of publishers—particularly Penguin—simultaneously raising their ebook prices while yanking their titles from libraries’ ebook collections, that’s exactly how I feel.
Unfair Game?
Let me tell you a little story about my recent attempt to read one of Penguin’s new releases, Patricia Briggs’ Fair Game.
I’ve been hit or miss with the Alpha & Omega spinoff series of the Mercy Thompson series. I liked the first book just fine and was rather “meh” on the second. So, while the books in the main series are auto-buys for me, because they’re guaranteed good reads, I’m not as confident in the Alpha & Omega series.
But, since there’s not going to be a new Mercy book until 2013 (sob!), I decided that I’d been missing the Mercyverse way too much and would revist this parallel series in the same world. Since it was a hardback release, I knew it would be a perfect Kindle book. (I have tendinitis in my right hand so hardbacks, are murder on my hands—I’d quit reading any new releases unless they were in paperback before my husband bought me my Kindle three years ago. Additionally, our house is super-tiny—around 800 square feet—so I can’t bring paper books that aren’t part of my “permanent collection” into the house.)
Logging onto Amazon, I discovered that the book was priced at $12.99. Given that this series is iffy for me, and that it was fewer than 300 pages, I balked at that price point. Momentarily forgetting that Penguin had abandoned libraries’ ebook collections, I logged onto Multnomah County Library’s website to put a hold on the ebook.
Oh, right… Penguin doesn’t want libraries to lend ebooks.
Every now and then, a young adult book reminds me that I am not the target audience for YA authors.
The Princesses of Iowa is one of those books.
However, for the target audience of teen girls and their parents (you know, the people who pay for the books that their teenage daughters read), I’d say that The Princesses of Iowa is the perfect book. Except for ONE MAJOR ISSUE that I address at the end of this review for the sake of emphasis.
I say that because while the book has a lot teenagers can relate to in a non-sugarcoated way, it’s still a message book that parents will like. It’s full of lessons about tolerance, the dangers of drunk driving and the virtues of being yourself, even if you don’t know quite what that is yet.
(If you think that all of these valuable lessons crammed into one book sounds like a long book, you’d be right, as The Princesses of Iowa clocks in at a hefty-for-YA 441 pages.)
Elmore Leonard & Timothy Olyphant aka Raylan GivensIt seems that with the (very deserved) popularity of the FX television show Justified, there’s a resurgence in the popularity of Elmore Leonard’s work. The thing is, the dude’s written a lot—and I mean—a lot of novels. And, I’ve read most all of them that aren’t westerns. So, if Justified has your interest piqued in Leonard’s work, here are my suggestions for good books of his to start with.
Touch, 1987, Arbor House
This is probably my absolute favorite Leonard Novel. It’s about an astigmatic former monk and faith healer who finds himself admist an odd assortment of characters (including a baton twirler) in Michigan. It’s the Leonard book I recommend to people who have a soft spot for romance and are nervous about crime fiction, because this one is far sweeter and none of the characters are actual criminals per se. But, it’s just as suspenseful and twisty as all of his novels, and is written with the chracteristic Leonard wit.
We met Rebeca at the March meeting of Portland’s Forever Young Adult Book Club. (Come hang with us at The Kennedy School on April 21!) Rebeca is a voracious reader, so her request for some new reads is super-tough, because she’s read a lot of books—a lot. She’s in particular need of some books that make her feel good—nothing sad or depressing or violent or where everyone dies in the end.
Here are her responses to our extremely scientific Book Matchmaker Questionnaire.
YA or Adult: Surprise me!
Genres: Contemporary, Historical, Action/Adventure, Fantasy, Romance, Science Fiction, Urban Fantasy, Paranormal, Magical Realism
POV & Narrative Style: First Person, Third Person, Multiple POV, Epistolary, Graphic Novel or Graphic Elements, Present Tense, Past Tense, Male POV, Female POV, Unreliable Narrator
Swoon Factor: 5
Gross Out Factor: 4
Smut Factor: 5
Fluff Factor: 5
Favorite Books and/or Themes: “Fairy tales, unexpected moments, books that make me think, clever & smart writing, angst. Sarah Dessen is one of my favorite writers and I also love books like Sherry Thomas’ Not Quite a Husband.”
Hated Tropes/Themes: “Please, nothing sad or disturbing and no non-fiction.”
We had to call in some expert advice on this one, since Rebeca has read everything. So our Twitter friend and soon-to-be published author Alanna Blackett (her first novella, Unsecure Connection—which sounds extremely badass is out later this month from Decadent) lent us a hand.
Before reviewing W.Bruce Cameron’s A Dog’s Purpose A Novel for Humans, I went to my trusty Thesaurus in search of replacement words for sentimental:
Dewy-eyed, corny, gushing, idealistic, inane, insipid, maudlin, moonstruck and mushy.
Okay, I’m all of those and then some when it comes to my love of dogs, especially my own little basset hound, Nico.
I picked up Cameron’s book one afternoon, curled into my most comfortable reading position on the couch, snuggled my dog at my side and began reading. I finished hours later at 12:30 AM with tears flowing down my face, gulping back sobs and my own dog looking at me with grave concern in his brown eyes.
Overidentifying with a Sophie Kinsella character is often a sign that you’re on the verge of:
a. a nervous breakdown
b. being arrested for fraud
c. Finnish Finnish Finnish
d. all of the above
Well, Finnish Finnish Finnish because I loved Kinsella’s latest, I’ve Got Your Number, and totally related to the main character, Poppy.
I mean, who isn’t absolutely, life-on-the-line dependent on their cell phone? Who doesn’t think the Lion King was the greatest musical?! And who hasn’t pretended they were an answering machine when accidentally picking up a call?
Crickets on the last one? Well, FINE. You’d be surprised how easy it is to pull off though.
In a blatant (and successful) attempt at link-baiting, the New York Time published an opinion piece on their website last week about how adults shouldn’t be reading young adult fiction.
Cue the eye rolls.
(No, I won’t link to the article, you can find it if you Google “Joel Stein is a Sexist Ass.”) I’m not going to add to the commentary about how this is an absurd assertion, because loads of people have already done that extremely well, but I am going to ask another question,
Why the HELL do we even care what people do or do not read?
Seriously. Why is this important to so many people? It seems that at least once a month, there’s some new article (50 percent of which feature Jonathan Franzen bloviating about his supposed superiority) asserting that we should read X, that we should not read Y and that “serious readers*” would most definitely should not read Z.
If you’ve been reading this blog, you have probably figured out that my reading tastes are all over the place. But, I have a particular enjoyment of the following:
- Contemporary, realistic YA;
- Creative, entertaining urban fantasy;
- Urban crime fiction;
- Post-apocalyptic/dystopian (adult or YA)
- Books involving prank wars;
- Smart contemporary romance (a la Julie James and Shannon Stacey);
- Novels involving zombies;
- Novels involving werewolves;
- Middle Eastern women’s fiction;
- Graphic novel/fiction with visual elements;
- Funny memoirs;
- Sweet and fun contemporary YA (a la Stephanie Perkins);
- Books involving heists and/or capers; and
- Books that don’t suck (to me).
[Editor’s Note: Since Grave Mercy has benefited from a colossal publicity push, we thought it would be worth having a second opinion on this book. Interestingly, Sandra’s take is quite similar to Laura’s. Warning: Some may read this review as slightly spoilerish.]
Set in medieval Brittany, Grave Mercy’s timeless theme of abuse and escape gives the story of Ismae, Death’s Daughter, a contemporary storyline that unfortunately does not work, even when I did my best to employ the concept of Suspension of Disbelief.
Mortain, the God of Death, feeds off belief in and worship of him much as humans nourish themselves with bread and meat. Without belief and worship, Mortain would starve for lack of sustenance. Ismae Rienne, who Robin LaFevers created in Grave Mercy, bears a deep, red stain from her left shoulder to her right hip,
…a trail left by herbwitche’s poison that [her] mother used to expel [her] from her womb.
The expulsion failed.
Life for Ismae’s mother was too ugly, dangerous and harsh to bring a child into. Yet, Ismae survived with a mark upon her signifying her role as the daughter of death, Mortain’s progeny. Her earthly father did not perceive the mark of the God Mortain upon her as significant, rather he viewed her as his personal whipping post, something he could pummel his fists upon thus feeding his cruel streak.
I felt absolute horror for Ismae.
I liked, but didn’t love Robin LaFevers’ debut novel, Grave Mercy.
(Similar to how I liked, but never loved Lyla Garrity, and often found certain aspects of her personality annoying—hence the FNL Character rating below.)
First of all, this book is erroneously being marketed as Young Adult.
The main character and narrator, Ismae Rienne, is a young adult. That’s the only element of this book that strikes me as YA. (Sandra, a retired English teacher and therefore someone who knows what she’s talking about when it comes to literary genres, thoroughly agrees that this book does not have the attitude of a YA book.) A large part of that is due to the Ismae’s voice, which never quite struck me convincingly as that of a seventeen year old girl. This book should be categorized as historical fiction/romance with a touch of the supernatural.
Just keep that in mind if you decide to read this.
Now, the premise of Grave Mercy is Assassin Nuns + Medieval Court Intrigue, which sounds like it would = Badass Fun. However, Grave Mercy ends up going light on the badass, middling on the intrigue, and heavy on the non-smutty romance.
If that doesn’t sound interesting to you, don’t read this book.
Now, my favorite part of Grave Mercy is the setting.
I don’t know about you, but I get series fatigue. (I know Laura agrees with me on this one!) And, in one of my favorite genres—Urban Fantasy—the series is The Standard. (Has there ever been a stand-alone UF novel? Seriously… it’s okay to end a story after 400 pages!) So, when a series piques my interest, I usually wait until there are two or three books before getting started, because I hate the wait for the next part of the story—especially if it’s cliffhanger-tastic at the end of each novel.
However, I’ve succumbed to temptation and discovered a three series that are only one novel in that are worth starting! Each of these series had their first book release in 2010, and have sequels hitting the shelves this year, so you won’t have to wait too long if you enjoy the first book.
Unbound Series by Rachel Vincent
You guy! Rachel Vincent’s books are like Pixie Stix laced with extra sugar—once I start, I cannot put her books down. She’s even made me break my, “No YA Paranormals” rule with her Soul Screamers series. But, as much as a (somewhat guiltily) enjoyed her Shifters series (it took me about ten pages to get over the WTFery of the concept of werecats; werewolves I’m cool with, werecats are another thing altogether), her new series with Mira is in an entirely different stratosphere (it’s actually what started me on my Epic Rachel Vincent Binge last fall—I read all of her books in about six weeks).
You may have noticed a new page on Clear Eyes, Full Shelves: Book Matchmaker.
This will be an irregular series in which we try to help you find your next favorite read! It’s pretty simple. You fill out a very thorough, scientific survey, and we apply proven analysis techniques to determine books that will be a good match.
Our first victim lucky participant is Shelly, who is the owner of a very cool sewing pattern business and author of a nifty book called Sewing for Boys. She’s also the inspiration for this series. I met Shelly on an airplane about a year ago and we started talking books. One thing led to another and I ended up making her an extensive list of books she’d enjoy.
Well, she’s read all those and is back for more!
Shelly’s Responses to Our Questionnaire
YA or Adult: Surprise me!
Genre: Contemporary, Action/Adventure, Fantasy, Paranormal, Mystery
POV & Narrative Style: First Person, Third Person, Present Tense, Male POV, Female POV
Swoon Factor: 3
Gross Out Factor: 3
Smut Factor: 3
Fluff Factor: 3
Favorite Books and/or Themes: “Hunger games…fun simple read with a unexpected storyline. Patricia Cornwell books—I like a good crime novel. All the books you have recommended to me to far :)!! [Mercy Thompson, etc] I love a good twist or a “NO WAY” moment. Bring on the drama”
Hated Tropes/Themes: “I can’t deal with a book that take 780 pages to get to the point. Historical novels. I can’t deal with a book that takes 780 pages to get to the point.”
Books, I love them. So, who am I to judge whether a book is good or bad?
We’re all different so our taste in books differs.
I taught high school language arts for twenty-six years, so I suffered from an ailment I’ll call deep-seated-snob syndrome, DSSD. Some books I read in the privacy of my own home where I wouldn’t be caught holding a Stephen King novel in my hands—or God forbid, James Patterson.
I enjoyed these secret reads. I didn’t need to analyze them, rate them or discuss them with students. I simply climbed into their worlds, lost myself in the story and loved every minute of it.
Reading King’s Pet Semetary late one night while lounging in bed, I came to the page where the main character’s dead cat comes back from the dead, drags its dead carcass up the stairs and leaps upon the bed. At that precise moment my own cat (clearly channeling her inner demon) leapt onto my bed. Fortunately, I avoided heart failure, but I may have screeched instead.
The point to all of this is to say, books have a place in each person’s life at its different stages and times.
After reading Gemma Halliday’s Deadly Cool this week, a bit of DSSD malady raised its ugly head.
I adored the television series Dollhouse and was thrilled to learn that it’s continuing in graphic novel form—unfortunately, this first installment disappointed.
If you’re not familiar with Dollhouse, the television show developed a cult following in 2009-2010 with it’s captivating stories of an evil corporation that ran an underground network of “dollhouses” that allowed wealthy clients to rent people whose personalities had been wiped out and replaced with temporary personalities and skills. Basically, clients could order up anything they wanted from the menu. The show centered around one “Active” (what the people who’s personalities had been wiped) named Echo, who remembers small amounts from each personality temporarily placed in her mind. This excellent Joss Whedon-lead show explored fascinating themes about identity and individuality and also had kickass scifi and action elements.
(Please note, this review contains spoilers for the TV show from this point forward, so if you don’t want to be spoiled for the show, go hit up Netflix, get caught up on Dollhouse and come back to this review.)
The graphic novel series, published by Dark Horse, takes place before the two episodes of the show that are set after the two episodes (Epitaph 1 & 2) that follow the technology that creates the Dolls spreading like a virus, creating a legions of zombie-like people that can be controlled by Rossum Corporation. In this post-apocalyptic world, there are only a few survivors who are trying to save humanity.
Much of the action centers around Alpha, the seriously screwed up rogue Active who became obsessed with Echo in the television series. And therein lies my problem with this contribution to the series story.
I simply don’t care about Alpha, he served his purpose in the series, but when I think “Dollhouse,” I think “Echo.”
[Editor’s note: Noelle shares with us her story about a fight many a reader has had—to read or not to read books with “those covers.” You know what I’m talking about.]
Round One: Scorn
I have always been a book lover.
I have always been a fan of awesome.
But unfortunately, I haven’t always been so open-minded about certain genres—-especially those with questionable cover designs. Nowadays, I usually subscribe to the Stephon Marbury philosophy that [book] love is [book] love but only a few short years ago, I was that girl side-eyeing your selections in the Barnes & Noble checkout line, rolling my eyes at the ratio of abs to cover space and assuring anyone who would listen that I didn’t read those kind of books.
That is, until I did…
Round Two: Begrudging Curiosity
One of my college roommates was what I affectionately refer to as a Romance Shark. She was unabashedly addicted to romance novels of all kinds and had a multi-state swap network set up with her extended family. I held out for as long as I could but browsing her bookshelves and observing what she was reading was inevitable.
Slowly but surely, I succumbed to curiosity. After more than a few books were “accidentally” left on the coffee table, my snarking evolved from catcalls at the shirtless dudes on the cover to,
Wait—so he’s a time traveling highlander?
and
What’s an urban fantasy?
The Romance Shark immediately sensed a weakness in my defenses—-blood in the water, if you will—-and dared me to read one—just one—of those books.
And, crap… I liked it.
I wonder how long until I’m allowed to be happy again.
That is the essence of Jennifer Wolf Shaw’s unique debut novel, Breaking Beautiful: Is there a point at which we can no longer heal?
Allie is the only survivor of a car accident that killed her boyfriend, town football star and golden boy, Trip. She has no memory of the accident, but is left with scar on her head and memories of the side of her relationship with Trip that no one else saw—or chose to ignore, in some cases. See, while Trip wore #33, he was no Tim Riggins. Allie suffered from Trip’s physical and mental abuse to the point where she has lost herself.
With Trip around, I was isolated from the rest of the school, but I was isolated with him for company. Now I’m just alone.
Following Trip’s death, Allie slowly rekindles a friendship with her childhood friend, Blake. As their friendship slowly moves toward being something more, the mystery surrounding Trip’s death grows as well. While the town memorializes Trip and vilifies Allie for trying to move on with her life, local police begin to investigate, and Allie begins to question what really happened the night her boyfriend died.
Breaking Beautiful fills a niche that’s largely missing in YA—it’s a dark, mature, contemporary mystery.
Contemporary Young Adult fiction is a sub-genre near and dear to my heart.
I think it goes all the way back to my 13-year old self’s undying love for Judy Blume’s incredible novel, Tiger Eyes (Goodreads, Amazon). (Seriously, it is her absolute best, despite that it’s not nearly as widely read as Forever et al.) So, I watch Kirkus reviews, Goodreads lists and blog posts like a hawk for buzz about my favorite contemporary YA authors and new and new-to-me authors and then tap my fingers while waiting, waiting, waiting for these new releases. The following are five contemporary YAs that I’m eagerly anticipating.
In Honor by Jessi Kirby
Sarah Ockler raved about this book on Twitter, and since Sarah is amazing, I immediate but it on my “omigod I must read ASAP” list. Then, I discovered that one of the characters was inspired by Tim Riggins. After picking myself up off the floor, this rocketed into another level. (A note: I love Tim Riggins, but I will maintain forever and always that Coach Eric Taylor/Kyle Chandler is hotter than Tim Riggins/Taylor Kitsch. I dare you to try to change my mind.) In Honor takes place in the aftermath of the main character’s brother’s death in Iraq and the subsequent road trip (sa-woon—I looooove road trip novels) she takes with her brother’s best friend. It’s got to be awesome, right?
Simon & Schuster, May 2012
{Preorder In Honor as an ebook or hardcover.}
{Add on Goodreads.}
Some books etch themselves into my mind, become part of me, my experience, my emotions.
The ones that do that best are those that sneak up on me, ingraining themselves without my even realizing it. Antonia Michaelis’ The Storyteller is one of those—it didn’t seize me, it gently corralled me before I knew I was lost to its power.
Embroiled in the fairy-tale woven into reality with magical words giving beauty to a dark and haunting edged world, Michaelis’ writing lulled me like a melody until the harsh reality clambered to wake me to the sorrow, the pain behind the beauty of The Storyteller’s reality.
I love this book, which combines Shakespearean tragedy laced with the magical realism of Gabriel Garcia Marquez.
Karen Marie Moning’s Fever series is a favorite of Urban Fantasy fans—and I can see why—but I was left both intrigued and frustrated.
The Fever series has been recommended to me by a number of folks, most recently Tatiana of The Readventurer and Goodreads fame, who answered my desperate plea for a good adult read (I get sucked into the YA rabbit-hole easily). Darkfever follows southern bell, aspiring Barbie MacKayla (Mac) as she travels to Ireland to pressure the local authorities to further investigate her sister’s murder. She stumbles into a hidden side of Dublin, and eventually (albeit under duress) teams up with the mysterious Jericho Barrons. Together, they seek out the seediest of Dublin’s fae underbelly while Mac discovers her own unique abilities.