Wicked Lovely

by Melissa Marr
ages: 14+
First sentence: “The Summer King knelt before her.”

Aislinn can see faeries.

Granted, that’s not always a good thing. She’s not supposed to let on that she can see them, especially since they tend to get vindictive when they find out. So, for her whole life, she’s been going around pretending that what she can see doesn’t exist.

It works out fine, until one — Keenan, the Summer King — starts paying attention to her. See, he’s been bound by Beria, the Winter Queen, and he will not have his full power until he chooses one to be his queen. She has to willing give herself to him, and if she isn’t the One, she will carry the curse of the Winter Queen. Not an easy fate, and something that not many girls will choose. And it seems that for Keenan, Aislinn is The One. Except. She’s in love with Seth, an ordinary mortal, which makes things slightly more complicated.

You have everything in here: urban fairies, kicking heroine, love triangle (of sorts), faerie mythology, good overcoming evil… there’s nothing to not love. Except, while it was good and gripping and intriguing, I felt disconnected from it all. The was something missing, that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. Or maybe it was just disconcerting to read a dark faery tale, one where everything was harsh and edgy. However, it wasn’t enough to keep me from being curious as to what happens in the next book. I guess that’s a good thing.

Buy it from: Amazon, Powell’s or your local independent bookstore.

The Talented Clementine

by Sarah Pennypacker
ages: 7-10
First sentence: “I have noticed that teachers get exciting confused with boring a lot.”

Clementine’s school is having a fundraiser for the big spring trip. All the grades are pairing up to do something (car wash, bake sale), and the third and fourth grades are having… a talent show (“Talent-Palooza, Night of the Stars!”). Which is all fine and good, except Clementine doesn’t have a talent. Can’t sing. Can’t dance. Can’t even hop. (Has problems sitting on occasion.) So, in her own unique and hilarious way, she sets about trying to find a talent to share for the show, from begging her friend Margaret — who has talents to spare — to borrow a talent from her (in which she glues beer bottle caps — the bottles were full — to the bottom of her sneakers) to attempting to create her own talent (in which she puts a leash on her baby brother, whose name she keeps changing to different vegetables, in order to have a trained dog). Of course none of these work, and as the date for the talent show creeps closer, the stress (for Clementine, as well as for the reader) mounts. Will she be able to find a talent for the show in the end? Of course. And it’s pretty impressive — and very Clementine-ish — and quite delightful what she comes up with in the end.

Buy it at: Amazon, Powell’s or your local independent bookstore.

Forever Rose (Reread)

by Hilary McKay
ages: 10+
First sentence: “I do not like it when people shout.”

When I read this for the Cybils last November, my review wasn’t really a review, more like a bemused reaction to never having heard of the Casson family before. Since I didn’t write a “proper” review, and since I read the last one first, I figured I ought to go back and revisit Rose after having read the other four in the series.

I’m so glad I did; while it’s still funny, and sweet, and entertaining, and enjoyable, and I’m still in love with the Casson family, it’s a much more poignant book now that I know the “history”.

Without giving too much away, a year and a half after Caddy Ever After ended, it’s Christmas time and Rose is at home, alone. Eve is sequestered in the shed with illness (she, very sensibly, doesn’t want to spread germs); Bill is still in London, though he’s become increasingly dissatisfied with the arrangment (finally!); Caddy has disappeared after taking off in hopes of finding Michael; Saffy and Sarah are busy with school and are rarely home; same with Indigo. The only person left in the whole empty house is Rose, which she doesn’t like. Especially since it’s darker earlier. She doesn’t like that every one is still bossing her around: she is in Grade 6, after all, and while no one wants to worry about her, no one remembers that she doesn’t like worring about them. There’s also a subplot about Rose figuring out the magic of stories, which is very sweet (yay for fairy stories!). Typical to the Casson family books, it doesn’t stay that way: it begins when Indigo’s friend David starts coming around after fighting with his mother, and eventually, the house becomes full again.

There’s so much to love about this series, and I found this one to be a very satisfying end to the series (on the one hand, I do want it to go on, and watch them all grow up — but Rose has a blog to help with that — but this one did end remarkably well). Rose has always stolen the books from under her siblings, and to have a whole book focus on her works really well (especially since this one is much less soap-opera-y than the last book that focused on only Rose). As I said before, it’s quite poignant; there’s little references here and there to events in all the books: from Saffy’s angel and the picture Rose drew on her first day of school, through to the catastrophe of Caddy’s wedding (and everything inbetween).

I’m so glad I was introduced to the Casson family. I’m sure they’re books that I will revisit periodically when I need a smile or a pick-me-up. Because they’re just so loveable. Especially Rose.

Buy it at Amazon, Powell’s or your local independent bookstore.

Manga Shakespeare: The Tempest

by William Shakespeare/Illustrated by Paul Duffield
ages: anyone interested in Shakespeare

Since my on-line book group began reading a Shakespeare play every summer, I’ve struggled with the form. First of all, I think Shakespeare should be seen, not read, and I’ve found that just reading the text isn’t at all beneficial for me. I have tried watching movies and reading it at the same time (watch a scene, read a scene), and that works all right.

But now I have Manga Shakespeare! It’s like reading and seeing the play simultaneously: very helpful. (Actually in the spirit of full disclosure, I read the graphic novel once, read the introduction to the play in our Riverside Shakespeare, and then read the graphic novel again. And it worked beautifully.) I liked the drawings: it made it easy to figure out who was who, and even though I never quite got a grasp of the setting (it was this weird hybrid between modern and historical), it didn’t really bother me. I’m not one to comment on manga having never read it, but I do have to say that this was an excellent way to read the bard.

As for the play itself: I liked it. Reading the scholarly introduction helped, because it clued me in to the nuances of the play that I didn’t get the first time around (like why it ended the way it did). It’s a silly little play (not as funny as his comedies, though) with people wandering around the island, and a thwarted assasination attempt, fairies and sprites, and love at first sight (which was not as gag-inducing as many other love-at-first-sight plotlines).

Anyway. I’m not going to go out and recommend that you read The Tempest, but I will recommend Manga Shakespeare as a way to read the Bard. It’s really a very good way to access the plays.

Buy it at: Amazon, Powell’s, or your local independent bookstore.

Garden Spells

by Sarah Allen Addison
ages: adult
First sentence: “Every smiley moon, without fail, Claire dreamed of her childhood.”

The first thing I noticed about this novel is the descriptions. It’s there in the first sentence: “smiley moon” rather than crescent, or even sliver of a moon, sure. But, it doesn’t stop there; it’s scattered throughout the book. Addison’s talent, at least in my opinion, is not necessarily in plots or characters, but in lush, memorable descriptions of small-town South, with a magical twist.

Claire is a Waverly, which means she tends to a garden and knows its secrets — what the plants can do to a person — and how to use them. She runs a successful catering business, and everything is just fine, until her estranged sister, Sydney, moves back in town — she’s on the run from an abusive boyfriend — with her daughter Bay. Oh, and art professor Tyler moves in next door. Of course, Sydney will have difficulties readjusting to small-town life in Bascom, North Carolina. Of course there will be conflicts with her old school friends (who never really were her friends, and I felt the sub-plot was a bit forced, and kind of unnecessary). Of course Claire and Tyler will fall in love. Of course there will be a happily ever after.

But that’s not the point. The point is the nurturing and the giving and the growing. The point is characters like the sisters’ aunt, Evanelle, who’s magic is to give things. The point is family and belonging are what really matters. The point is Southern summer days. The point is food that makes you feel, makes you love, makes you regret. The point is an apple tree that wants to be a part of the family. The point is sentences where you can nearly feel and smell what they are describing.

And the result is a magical, sweet, delightful summer read.

Buy it at: Amazon, Powell’s or your local independent bookstore.

Girl at Sea

by Maureen Johnson
ages: 13+
First sentence: “Lightning flashed over Big Ben, and a bruise-like darkness draped over the dome of St. Paul’s.”

Ah, Maureen Johnson.

When life has got you down, or you need a bit of a pick me up after that really depressing novel, who else do you turn to provide a distraction? (Well, there are others, but since this is a review of Maureen Johnson’s book, we’ll just assume that she’s the best at it.)

I would say that this story is much like the others (except it’s nothing at all like Devilish or Bermudez Triangle): Clio, 17 years old, plucky artist, has a crush on Ollie who works at the local art store. What better way to get close to him than to work at the same store for the summer? Except fate (and her father) get in the way: he proposes (and since her mom’s going to be in Kansas — of all places, it’s so horribly boring here — she’s been force to accept) that Clio spend the summer with him. On a boat. Off the coast of Italy.

Sounds horrid — and to some extent it is; since her parent’s divorce, Clio and her father have been estranged. To help with the pain of… the weirdness of it all… there’s Elsa (who is your stereotypical Scandanavian Beauty: voluptuous, gorgeous, blonde… and nice) to be her friend. And Aiden — stuffy, snarky, Yale-educated — whom she can’t seem to get a handle on (even if we all know where it’s headed. Most deliciously headed.)

Sure the plot’s probably predictable, and some of the characters are one-dimensional (the over-protective mom, the snobby English workaholic who’s dating her dad, her dad’s buddy…), but that’s not why we read the books. Or why we like Maureen Johnson. No, we like these books because she captures that sweet romance, that first blush of falling in love, that *sigh* moment absolutely perfectly.

And we all need a little bit of that in our lives once in a while.

Buy it at: Amazon, Powell’s, or your local independent bookstore.

Atonement

by Ian McEwan
ages: adult
First sentence: “The play — for which Briony had designed posters, programs and tickets, constructed the sales booth out of a folding screen tipped on its side, and lined the collection box in red crepe paper — was written by her in a two-day tempest of composition, causing her to miss breakfast and lunch.”

Ah, modern classics. Pages and pages of well-written, often beautiful, always complex exposition. Character development through psychological intricacies, with much telling, little showing. Pretentious in their understanding of human nature, but little or no plot to hang any of their characters on.

They bore me to tears.

Actually, I’m sounding harsher than I mean to; I did like aspects of Atonement — the idea that one person (though I’m having a hard time picturing her as 13; more like 9 or 10) can misinterpret situations, let their imagination run away with them and as a result affect many lives because of that is intriguing — but I had a hard time connecting with anyone. I also admit that I’m impatient (perhaps this is a negative side-effect of reading too much YA?) with books that take so long (more than 100 pages in set up) to get going, and then spent the other 2/3 of the story spinning around unraveling anything. I would have appreciated it if McEwan was more forthright in his writing, rather than leaving me to dig out plot points amidst all the extraneous thinking, musing, and suffering.

It was wonderfully written, though. I just wish it would have been more plot or character driven. Then again: it’s the same problem I have with Dickens. I’m just not a good judge of literary talent.

Buy it at: Amazon, Powell’s, or your local independent bookstore.

David Ebershoff at Watermark Books, and a Giveaway

I had the pleasure of going to an author signing (my first! I should get out more…) at Watermark books featuring The 19th Wife author David Ebershofff.

First off, I have to back Natasha up on this (she’s mentioned it in comments on my review as well as elsewhere): he’s an incredibly personable, interesting, and, yes, nice person. He’s also thorough, respectful and fair. If I had met him before reading the book, I would have been less suspicious of his motivations and more open to what he was trying to do when telling the story. (And to answer my own question: yeah, I’m probably reading too much into the novel.)

I won’t go through his whole hour-long interview/talk (though he didn’t do any actual reading from the book, which mildly disappointed me; I was curious as to what he would have chosen), but I’ll give you a few of what I thought were the highlights. (And I’m just winging this since I’ve never done it before!)

Sarah Bagby, the managing director of Watermark ran the discussion, and started him talking about how he decided to write The 19th Wife, especially since he said that he wanted to write on a subject that he, as a reader, would find interesting. Something that stood out in his explanation — he talked a bit about Ann Eliza Young and her history, as well as his contact with polygamous communities — was a little side comment that he gave as a response to our laughter about him visiting polygamous communities: “To write a book you have to be bold but a little bit naive; you have to be open to things.”

As part of the research for the story, he talked to many women who have left polygamous families, and discovered that the more he got into the story, the more stories there were. He said that their stories, while unique, were all variations on the same story, on Ann Eliza’s story. It always begins with them being devout in their faith, a certainty in their belief. But then something happens to crack the faith, and then something else to shatter it, and then they leave. He also interviewed women in the compounds he visited, but was always wondering how they were viewing him, wondering if they were holding things back. But his conversations with them informed the character of Jordan’s mom. In the end, he realized that while the historical part of the book was about the woman’s story, the modern section needed to be about the children, because both were affected by polygamy.

One of the more interesting things, to me at least, was his mention that on the surface, polygamy is titillating, something sexual, but if you dig down, there’s a lot of complex issues beneath the surface: faith, religious freedom, right to privacy — core American values. “Polygamy pushes these values and asks if we really believe in them, are there limits? And if so, who sets them?” He said he doesn’t think that there’s any one way to look at the issue, his goal was to raise up a set of questions for the reader but not necessarily provide answers for them.

He mentioned the raid on the Texas polygamous compound last year, and noted that the reaction of the media to that was very similar to the media reaction to Ann Eliza. I thought that was an interesting comparison.

Something I, as a Mormon, appreciated was his repeated statements that current polygamists don’t have anything to do with the LDS church. (He wasn’t out to compare the church to a cult; that was just me!) And that he had positive experiences while researching Ann Eliza. I asked about the character of Kelly Dee. He said that it kind of came from what he was trying to do: taking all of the disjointed parts of history and pulling them together. He said that while working on the book, he met young, intelligent, curious Latter-day Saints pursuing this part of their (and my) history. They were devout and faithful, yet open and curious. He felt like he needed a character like that to tie these stories together.

I could go on — he talked about the research he did and how he worked on capturing Brigham Young’s voice (and that it was intimidating and challenging, but that as a writer, he likes a challenge); and how his experiences having three older sisters informed his writing, among other things — but I’ll just end by saying that it was an enjoyable evening, and I’m glad to have had this opportunity to go out. I ought to do this more often! (And keep a better eye on who comes to this part of Kansas. Ally Carter is coming on Saturday, and M would love to go, but we have a previous commitment, and can’t make it.)

Finally, if any of this has piqued your curiosity: I’m giving away TWO signed copies of 19th Wife! Just leave a comment saying that you’re interested. Make sure there’s an email address where I can contact you. Only open to U.S. and Canada residents, sorry. 🙂 I’ll draw the winner on Sunday, June 14th.

Library Loot #22

Note to self: going to the library at 10:15 is a REALLY bad idea. It’s crawling with people going to story time (which we don’t do in the summer because it’s too crowded). And there are no books in (which is to be expected, since it’s summer). Maybe we’ll find another time/day…

Can you guess the letter of the week? 🙂

For A/K:
Rhyming Dust Bunnies, by Jan Thomas**
The Last Chocolate Cookie, by Jamie Rix/Illus. by Arthur Robins**
Charlie Parker Played Be Bop, by Chris Raschka
Ruby’s Dinnertime, by Paul and Emma Rogers
My Favorite Things, Rogers & Hammerstein/Illus. by Renee Graef
The Carousel, by Liz Rosenberg/Jim Lamarche
Won’t You Be My Kissaroo?, by Joanne Ryder/Melissa Sweet
Cinderella Skeleton, by Robert D. San Souci/Illus. by David Catrow**

For M/C:
Coraline: The Graphic Novel, by Neil Gaiman/P. Craig Russell*

For M (she forgot her library card today):
The Sterkarm Handshake, by Susan Price*
A Sterkarm Kiss, by Susan Price
Haveli, by Suzanne Fisher Staples

For Hubby:
Harry, A History: The True Story of a Boy Wizard, His Fans, and Life Inside the Harry Potter Phenomenon, by Melissa Anelli*

Rechecked out because I want to read them and they got returned before I did:
Nation, by Terry Pratchett
Alcatraz Versus The Scrivener’s Bones, by Brandon Sanderson

The roundup is either at Out of the Blue or A Striped Armchair.

*Ones that M eventually read.
**Picture books we really liked.

Wintersmith

by Terry Pratchett
ages: 12+
First sentence (not including the Nac Mac Feegle glossary): “When the storm came, it hit the hills like a hammer.”

I got this email from Laura from Life after Jane yesterday that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about. She says,

You never get just a story with Pratchett. You get life lessons and a unique way of looking at things. I’ve heard him called the Douglas Adams of fantasy fiction but I have to disagree. If you ever read any of the Hitchhiker’s Guide series you’ll notice that fabulous and witty as it is, Adams clearly didn’t like people. With Pratchett I’m always amazed how he can poke fun at the silly, pettiness of people while at the same time expressing a very real and warm love of them. I always finish his books feeling that he has a very profound point and that he really just adores everything and everyone.

I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it because she’s absolutely right. It’s the reason why his books are so delightful — even if they’re not quite as soaring as the other books in the series — why you find yourself laughing out loud or nodding in agreement: because Pratchett cares, and it comes across in the writing.

Like the other two books in the Tiffany Aching adventures, the plot really isn’t what matters. It’s the characters — in this one we have the Wintersmith and Roland, who are both infatuated with Tiffany, even if she’s not really that interested, and Nanny Ogg whom you just want to hug, as well as ones from the other books — and the little nuggets of wisdom or humor that are littered throughout. My mom said that she thought these were good “girl” books, but I’ll take it a step further: these are just good books.

And Pratchett is definitely a good writer.

Buy it at: Amazon, Powell’s or your local independent bookstore.