Author: booknutgirls

booknutgirls http://thebooknutdotcom.wordpress.com I read. I blog. I sell books. I chauffeur my kids. What more do you need to know?

Friday Night Lights

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by H. G. Bissinger
ages: adult
First sentence: “Maybe it was a suddenly acute awareness of being ‘thirtysomething.'”
Support your local independent bookstore: buy it there!

I’m probably the last person on the planet to read this; I didn’t even know it existed until the movie came out several years back. Since then (and the highly recommended TV show, as well), I’ve known that I “should” read this one, especially since I consider myself a football fan. But it wasn’t until I read Rammer Jammer Yellow Hammer a few months back that I really got serious about reading this book.

You want to know what? It’s incredibly depressing.

If you’ve been living under a rock, the basic story is Bessinger moving to Odessa, TX; a small town in the late 80s that has gone through the boom and bust of oil. Bessinger moves there to follow the town’s main football team, The Permian High MoJo. However, while it’s a book about football, it’s not a football book. Bessinger follows the team throughout the season and highlights the games, but uses football as a springboard to talk about bigger issues: race, class, education, and most of all, the sense of entitlement (and pressure) that comes with being a high school football player.

Bessinger doesn’t paint a pretty picture about it all. Odessa was — one of the things I kept wondering was how everyone’s fared in the 23 years since the 1988 football season — obsessed with football. Perhaps unhealthily so. It was their life, their all, and I’m not talking about the players, either. In a town where there wasn’t much of anything: the industry being basically shut down (I seem to remember a statistic that at one point the unemployment rate in Odessa was at 20%, but I could be wrong), the educational system being basically average, the only hope for anyone — and really, we’re just talking about the boys, most of them white — was to be on their above-average, mostly winning football team.

And so most boys held the dream of playing for the Mojo.

But, even with the hope of something better — or perhaps they put all of their hopes into that promise — the boys didn’t go anywhere. Sure, they made it into the state playoffs, and got as far as the semi-finals. But, their lives, with the exception of the one who put his effort into his academics, didn’t go anywhere. And I found that depressing. Because it’s all for a game.

The other depressing thing was how little has changed in America in the last 23 years. In some ways, things have gotten better. But there was too much in the book that I could nod at and say, “You know, that’s still exactly the same.” We like to think we’ve made progress in race, in education, in our livelihood. But this made me wonder just how much has changed. I’m not sure much has; football is still more important in our lives than, say, a speech by the president on his plan to create jobs. While Rammer Jammer made me feel like I wasn’t enough of a fan, this book in many ways made me ashamed to support a game (a game!) that creates the kind of situations that were put out in this book. Those high school and college players we put so much pressure on to win? They’re boys. And this book is a weighty reminder of what pressure, stress, and too much privilege can do to boys.

And that’s depressing.

One Last Reminder: Austin Teen Book Fest THIS Saturday

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You guys, this is worth driving from Wichita to Austin because:

  • On Friday night there will be a screening of “Nick & Nora’s Ultimate Playlist” (at Alamo Drafthouse South Lamar) with a Q&A featuring festival author David Levithan, co-author of the book on which the film was based. BookPeople will be selling signed copies of his books in the lobby. The screening benefits the APLFF.

  • The festival’s theme is steam punk — a nod to keynote speaker Scott Westerfeld. There’s going to be a green screen where you can take pictures of yourself in the Leviathan world. On top of that, the entertainment will be courtesy of Delirium of Grandeur and the band Darwin Prophet, neither of which I’ve ever heard of, but are sure to be awesome.

  • The panels:


(click to embiggen…) There are some seriously fine authors talking about fascinating things.

  • And lastly but not leastly: Amanda and I are organizing a blogger luncheon — we don’t have a specific place to eat, but are planning on meeting at the Barton Springs Road entrance of the Palmer Events Center around 12:30.

Hope to see you there! It’s going to be a blast. Promise.

Uncommon Criminals

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by Ally Carter
ages: 12+
First sentence: “Moscow can be a cold, hard place in winter.”
Support your local independent bookstore: buy it there!

This book, as pointed out by Liz B., can be summed up in three sentences: It’s fluff. But it’s such fun fluff. And no one does fluff as well as Ally Carter.

The other best way to sell it (and Heist Society, the first one in the series)? It’s Oceans 11 for teens. In book form.

After pulling off the heist of the century (which I suppose is a bit of a spoiler for the first book. Sorry), Kat and crew have basically gone their separate ways. Kat’s taken on a personal mission for good, taking jobs stealing back paintings stolen by Nazis in World War II. Hale’s constantly upset with her because she keeps shutting him out. Gabby’s gone her own way, and Uncle Eddie’s moved to Paraguay (or was it Uruguay? That’s a running gag.) to run a sting for the family. So, when Kat is propositioned to steal the Cleopatra diamond for what is ostensibly a good cause, she doesn’t hesitate.

Then things get deliciously complicated.

Honestly? The best thing about this book (aside from Hale’s swoonworthiness; I really shouldn’t have crushes on 17 year old fictional boys. Not healthy.) is that Kat and crew up and go all over the world at a drop of a hat. They’re MINORS! And they get away with so much. It’s hilarious and improbable and fun. Who cares that they’re smart rich kids basically stealing things because they can? (Well, not exactly, but it feels that way at times.) I don’t. I’m along for the ride, and, man, it’s a fun one with an absolutely brilliant twist at the end.

Sometimes, fluff — especially good fluff — is exactly what you need.

The Night Circus

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by Erin Morgensternages: 16+ (shelved in the Adult Fiction section of my library)
First sentence: “The circus arrives without warning.”
Support your local independent bookstore: buy it there!

I am inherently suspicious of anything that receives an inordinate amount of buzz. (Which is why I have yet to read The Help.) People have told me it’s just sour grapes; that if I would just catch a book early enough, I wouldn’t have this violently negative reaction to hip and popular books.

But when Corinne said that I should read it, I listened.

I’ll be frank here: there is a plot to this book, but it’s pretty predictable and fairly cliche. In the end, it’s your basic Romeo and Juliet love story. Two magicians from two differing schools of thought pit their students against one another. This time it’s Celia and Marco. They’re never supposed to meet, they’re not supposed to even know who the other is; yet, they find out, and fall in love. Of course there are ramifications, of course there are hazards and heartbreak.

That’s not the point of the book, though.

The point of the book is the atmosphere. It’s a very slow moving book, one that luxuriates in the descriptions of the circus, of clothes, of the food, of the magic. It’s not a spare and poetic book, but rather weighty and opulent: there’s scenes that for plot purposes probably don’t need to be there, but because they add to the atmosphere and mood of the book, fit perfectly. There’s characters wandering in and out of the book that have little to do with the plot, and yet they add to the carnival-esque feeling. It reminded me strongly of Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norell; the use of magic is unique and traditional at the same time. Morgenstern uses stage magicians as a launching point, musing on the idea of an the illusion actually not being an illusion. And, surprisingly for me: the book is written in the present tense while still flitting back and forth in time. Usually, this drives me batty, but in this book, in this setting, it worked. (I didn’t even notice until I was halfway through. Which says much.)

I do recognize that all this all might be a downer for some people; I’m not expecting to add to the hype for this book. I don’t think it’s the next Harry Potter, or even the next “big thing”. But, in many ways it is worth the hype: it’s a beautiful, descriptive, haunting and gorgeous book.

Thoughts on KidLitCon: Photographic Evidence

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I promised pictures.

I not only went to KidLitCon, I managed to connect with some friends from my on-line book group. I can’t say it enough: it’s absolutely wonderful being able to put faces to names, and to sit and chat with them in person. I wouldn’t trade the internet, or the blogosphere, for anything, but people are vastly different in person than they are on-line. And that’s a good thing.

So, the conference. Yesterday I talked about the nuts and bolts of what I thought was important, but that left out all the fun stuff.

Like the hotel, which was so uber posh (I’ve honestly never stayed in a hotel with a doorman before!) that I was intimidated at first. But eventually, grew to love the ambiance. I didn’t, however, take a picture of my favorite feature: the shelf in the shower that had bottles for shampoo, conditioner, and soap. That little touch completely thrilled me. Then again, I’m easy to please.

I know I’ve posted the one of me with Scott Westerfeld, but here’s one of his keynote address… just for good measure. Did I mention how funny and interesting he is as a speaker?

Then there’s the friends:

Elissa Cruz from From the Mixed-Up Files. We connected last year at KidLitCon, and it was a pleasure to see her again.

The group I had lunch with on Saturday (in which we talked about everything from reviewing to Battlestar Galactica. We are nothing if not diverse in our conversation). Including newcomer Lisa Song at Reads for Keeps, my delightful roomie Maureen, the ever-charming Liz B. and the fun Sondra (though I didn’t get a picture of her in her Elephant and Piggie shirt. Which I want.) at Sonderbooks.

As another shout out to how absolutely wonderful this con was: the food was amazing. I wasn’t expecting much, but what we got (the reception! the snacks! the lunch! the dinner!) exceeded anything I was expecting.

One last one: of Pam and Jen. To be honest, I’m still a little star struck that both these amazing women even acknowledge that I exist. Seriously, though… another testament to getting to know people in person; I adore both of them, and love listening to them talk. They’re smart, funny, amazing women, and I’m glad to say they’re my friends.

And that’s enough sappiness. For the record: there are pictures of me, Jen and Maureen on our panel as well as me talking to Karen Cushman (KAREN CUSHMAN! And I was brave enough to talk to her!) out there. I’m hoping I find them in the midst of all the wrap-ups (links to which can be found here).

KidlitCon (not to mention mini-vacations without Hubby or the girls): in all ways, a good, good thing.

Thoughts on KidlitCon, Part 1

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The one thing about going to KidLitCon is that you come home brimming over with ideas for your blog, not to mention thoughts about the conversations you’ve had and listened to. It’s exhilarating and overwhelming at the same time (I mean, look at all the live tweets at #kidlitcon. Seriously!): where do I even begin to put it down in a post?

Out of all the notes I scribbled on my program (loved having that!) and on the (wonderfully provided) notebook paper, here are some of the things I found to be of most value:

There was a lot (a LOT) of talk about positive reviews versus critical reviews versus negative reviews. I’ve long known that I’m among the minority in the blogosphere: I review everything, the good, bad, the didn’t finish. (And I’m up-front about that, I think.) I’ve always considered what I write to be “negative” reviews, but listening to people talk about it the nature of reviews, I suppose what I write is actually “critical” reviews. The big difference: I try, very hard, to answer the WHY. And that makes all the difference. Instead of saying “this book sucks”, I think about how I’m reacting to the book, and what made me react that way. I need to be better about providing support for that reaction (as well as positive reactions, as well); I used to be good about that, and have gotten out of the habit. Abby, who was part of a very helpful panel on writing critical reviews, has a post on her thoughts on the matter. Go check it out.

That said, I agree with the idea of writing critically: it’s helpful for me to know not just what you thought about the book, but why. The other thing I brought home from the conference is the idea that we always need to be aware of who our audience is, and what our blog’s purpose is. This was brought up in several panels, including the one I was on (where I used the term “shiny” to describe new books; I really need to lighten up on my Nathan Fillion crush…): the idea that even if we feel like we are, we’re not blogging into a void, and we have a responsibility not to the publishers or the authors but to our readers first and foremost. Know who they are. As a blogger, you have influence.

Everything else was just frosting. Scott Westerfeld’s keynote was funny, fascinating, and thoroughly engaging. He spoke about the relationship between text and image and the process of writing an illustrated novel (which he considers the Leviathan trilogy to be). It built upon a fascinating panel about transmedia (definition: books that use more than text — video, images, text messages, etc — to tell their stories; though it seemed a bit limited and really only suited to horror/thriller/mystery and fantasy) stories, which thoroughly sold me on the Angel Punk world, and another panel I went to that highlighted some of the book apps for kids. I left feeling that my old stick-in-the-mud attitude to iPads and e-readers needs to change; while there’s a lot of crap out there, there’s also a lot of good storytelling going on, and I’m not the solely linear reader I thought I was.

Two final thoughts: keep in mind quality over quantity; your blog will be better if you focus on having good, quality posts rather than one (or more) every day. And from author Brent Hartinger: It’s okay to write what is your truth. He meant it in context of writing stories, but I think it works for blogs as well. If the book didn’t work for you, it’s okay to write that. It’s your truth, and no one can take it away from you.

I’ll put up the pictures I took tomorrow. Promise.

The Slayer Chronicles: First Kill

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by Heather Brewer
ages: 13+
First sentence: “Abraham’s heels clicked along the marble floor as he moved the length of the room.”
Support your local independent bookstore: buy it there!
Review copy provided by the publisher.
Release date: September 20, 2011

When Joss McMillian was 10, his life was practically perfect. Happy parents, great relationship with his younger sister. Aside from his unfortunate tendency to excel at sports without trying, which didn’t help with his making friends, he was perfectly happy.

The one night the unthinkable happened, and Joss saw it all: a vampire killed Joss’s younger sister.

At the funeral, Joss’s uncle Abraham offers Joss a way to get revenge, and three years later Abraham has come to cash in on the promise Joss made: it’s time to be trained as a Slayer.

From this point, the book gets incredibly harsh. I’m sure there’s some book out there somewhere which says “all training in any supernatural fighting must be incredibly abusive to the teenager involved”. Because the training in this book was harsh. As a mom, I cringed; how on earth did Joss survive this punishment? As a reader, I cringed: is revenge that great a motive that you’d basically kill yourself to achieve it? I suppose it’s partly because I’ve decided vampires are passé: everyone’s done the whole vampire/slayer/whatever angle to death.

That said, the book did have one nice little twist coming at the end that redeemed it for me, and actually made me want to see where the next book takes the series. But, that said: be prepared for the harshness of the journey here. It’s not a pretty book, and the tale has no glory.

Perhaps that’s for the best.

KidlitCon, Austin Teen Book Fest, and Scott Westerfeld

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Oh, my.

First: I’m home again. YAY! Had a lovely, lovely time, thanks so much to Colleen and Jackie who organized, slaved, kept us all on time, and were essentially grand hostesses to a grand party. I will, I promise, get my wrap-up post put up as soon as I possibly can (not tomorrow.). There’s also a matter of writing reviews of the four books I read this weekend, too…

Second: now I’m home from this trip, I can think about the next one: to Austin, TX and the Austin Teen Book Festival on Oct 1. If you’re anywhere near Austin (I think Wichita counts as “near”) COME! There’s an amazing line-up of authors, and (trust me on this one) Scott Westerfeld as a keynote speaker will be more than worth your time. Check out the site for info on the other authors who will be there. PLUS: Amanda and I are organizing a blogger luncheon — we don’t have a specific place to eat, but are planning on meeting at the Barton Springs Road entrance of the Palmer Events Center around 12:30. We’d love for you to join us.

Third: fangirl moment:

So, yeah, I accosted him on Friday with a book to sign (Uglies; I picked a favorite, not the new one) and chatted about Austin in two weeks, and accosted him again on Saturday for the picture. I can say this: he’s absolutely hilarious, incredibly gracious, and has interesting stories to tell. It’s silly, but I’m glad I was brave enough to get this.

More later. Promise!

On My Birthday

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I’m 39 years old today. And, probably for many reasons, Landslide is the song that has resonated the most with me in the past few months. There’s something about growing older, especially as my girls grow older, that makes me wistful for the past, but at the same time excited for the future. I read somewhere that Stevie Nicks wrote this in her late 20s; maybe I’m just behind, it’s not until I’m nearly 40 that I started feeling this way.

I don’t mind Stevie Nicks’ version of the song, but I do like the way the Dixie Chicks covered it better.

I’m happily hanging out in Seattle with bloggy friends at KidLitCon today, enjoying being with a lovely bunch of people. I can’t think of a better way to begin my last year in my 30s.

Mercury

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by Hope Larson
ages: 12+
First sentence: “Hi, house.” (Though, admittedly, there are eight pages of pictures before that sentence.”)
Support your local independent bookstore: buy it there!

There are two stories going on here, both take place in a small town in Novia Scotia. One involves 16 year old Tara whose old family farm house has just burned down. Her mother is off to Alberta to look for work, and Tara is back in her old town (before they moved to the farmhouse, after her parents’ divorce) living with her aunt, uncle and cousin. She’s trying to adjust to a new life, and it doesn’t help that her mom wants to move to Edmonton.

The other story takes place 150 years ago: Josey is living in the farm house (the same one that burned down; you realize as the story unfolds that Josey and Tara are related), living her life. Her mother isn’t the most compassionate person, and her father isn’t the best farmer, but they’re making do. That is, until Asa Curry comes into their lives. He offers Josey’s father a way to get rich quick: there’s ore under the farmlands, and they can mine for gold. Things seem to be going well; Josey, at least, knows that she really likes Asa. But unfortunately, what is gold is not always good.

It’s an intriguing tale Larson is telling here, one that works well for the medium that it’s in. Sometimes I’m impressed how much can be “said” in a picture, how much one little frame can convey that would take pages and pages of prose to get across. I’m also impressed that something like magical realism, which bothers me in prose, I can accept and go with in a graphic novel. It’s a smattering of magic, something so innocuous that it shouldn’t really matter to the plot. And yet, it does.

It’s a good story as well: there’s heartache and loss and hope. My only question is wondering what Mercury has to do with the story. I missed that somehow.

That said, I’m going to be reading more of Larson’s work.