BIPOC characters

March (Book One)

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by John Lewis, Andrew Aydin, and Nate Powell
First sentence: “John, can you swim?”
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Content: The only objectionable thing in the book is the use of the “n” word (which doesn’t make the white Southerners look good at all). The library has it filed under adult graphic novels, but I think I’d put it with the teen ones. I’m sure even a curious 10- or 11-year-old would get something out of this one as well.

I picked this up because it made the SLJ’s Battle of the (Kids) Books contenders list and I like to (try to) read as many as I can before the competition starts. Like every year, I found a wonderful book I’d have never picked up otherwise.

This is a slim graphic memoir, telling the first part of Congressman John Lewis’s story. (For the record, Hubby knew who Lewis was; I did not.) This volume starts with his childhood in Alabama, and goes through the Nashville sit-ins that he participated in. My favorite thing about this memoir was the framing: It opens with Lewis waking up the morning of Obama’s first inauguration, and the story unfolds as Lewis is remembering his path to D.C. as he tells it to a couple of constituents who have stopped by his office.

It’s your pretty typical Civil Rights story: sharecropper parents save money for their own farm. After an exposure to a different way of doing things (he visited his uncle and aunt in New York City for a summer), child wants an education, rather than be stuck at home doing what his parents do. (I loved the bits about raising chickens, though.) He feels a call to be a preacher, and ends up at American Baptist Theological Seminary in Nashville. There is an interesting aside here: Lewis wanted to go to college in Alabama, closer to home, and actually met with Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. and his lawyers to talk about segregating Troy State. In the end, though, Lewis’s family didn’t want to chance the backlash, so he stayed in Nashville.

He was very influenced by the school of non-violent protests, and he got involved with a group that organized the sit-ins in Nashville in 1959. I think this was the most moving part of the book; the abuse and hurt that Lewis and his friends endured just so they could have the same services as the white people in Nashville was pretty brutal. This volume ends just after the Nashville mayor decrees that all businesses should be integrated. I’m quite interested to see where Lewis’s story goes from here.

I loved the format as well: there aren’t enough non-fiction graphic novels (at least that I’ve read), and the art — done in stark black and white — adds to the intensity of the story. I’m glad I picked this one up.

The Tyrant’s Daughter

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by J. C. Carleson
First sentence: “My brother is the King of Nowhere.”
Support your local independent bookstore: buy it there!
Review copy downloaded from NetGalley
Content: Some mild language, and some indirect violence. It sits in the YA section (grades 6-8) of the bookstore. I don’t know if I’d give it to a 5th grader or not. I think it depends on how news-savvy the kid is.

Laila is the daughter of the ruler of an unnamed Middle Eastern country. She has a good life — trips to Paris with her mother, a private tutor, a resort by the sea. Then one day her world turns upside down when her father is assassinated right before her eyes.

Suddenly Laila, her mother, and her younger brother, Bastian (the “little king”) are exiled, taking refuge in the United States as Laila’s fundamentalist uncle takes over the country. Not only is Laila exiled from her country, she’s thrown into a world that — for all the riches and opulence she was used to — is vastly different from her own. And, on top of that, as she meets other refugees from her country, she discovers that her loving father was actually a brutal dictator.

I think the publishers are billing this as a thriller — J. C. Carleson is a former CIA operative, after all — but it’s not. It’s much more one girl’s story of awakening, and the harsh realities that brings, as well as of the plight of immigrants and how difficult it is to make a new home. Although she makes friends in her Washington D. C. school, Laila never quite belongs here, being uncomfortable with little things: from wearing short skirts to the dance to the seeming nonchalance that the students have to a bomb threat. Laila is constantly a fish out of water, and I think Carleson captures that perfectly.

There are some thriller-esque elements; Laila’s mom is a constant schemer, and there’s a CIA guy hanging around ominously. And I felt the ending was a bit too pat, not quite fitting in with the rest of Laila’s story. But, for the most part, it was a fascinating exploration of one girl’s attempt to come to terms with her family and the outside world.

Cress

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by Marissa Meyer
First sentence: “Her satellite made one full orbit around planet Earth every sixteen hours.”
Support your local independent bookstore: buy it there!
Content: Some violence, none of it gruesome. It’s shelved in the YA section (grades 6-8th), but I’d have no problems giving it to a capable younger reader.
Review copy given me by our MPS rep, who likes to enable my addictions.
Others in the series: Cinder, Scarlet

Obviously: If you haven’t read the other two, there will be spoilers.

So, our fearless (of sorts), rag-tag crew of a cyborg, a scruffy-looking nerfherder of a pilot, a disembodied android, a human girl, and a Lunar wolf-man operative are on the run from the Commonweath government. What are the most-wanted on Earth supposed to do? Especially when there’s an insanely evil queen who’s trying to take over the world by marrying the super-hot emperor? (“Tyrone, you know how much I love watching you work, but I’ve got my country’s 500th anniversary to plan, my wedding to arrange, my wife to murder and Guilder to frame for it; I’m swamped”) Well, hang out in space, of course. And then go rescue Rapunzel in her tower. Or Cress in her satellite, that is.

Except the rescue operation goes wrong, and our group of rag-tag outlaws are split up. Scarlet ends up on Lunar (and doesn’t figure much in the story), Cress and Captain Thorne end up in the satellite, crashing in the Sahara desert. And Cinder, Wolf, and the New Guy end up looking for the crazy Dr. Erland. As the plot thickens….

C’s biggest complaint with this one was that there were too many plot lines. Which is true, to an extent. Meyer is juggling a LOT of balls here. And there are at least 5 (if not more) story threads running through the book. BUT. I thought she managed all her threads well. With the exception of Scarlet, who really wasn’t interesting until nearly the end of the book (oh, but then her story line is tantalizingly interesting, setting up the last book in the series, Winter, well), I thought what all the characters were doing were fascinating. My favorites — probably goes without saying — are the two MAIN main characters in this one, Cress and Thorne. I adored Cress as a character: she’s a bit insecure around people, having been trapped in a satellite for 7 years. And she’s a total fangirl. But she’s also a smart hacker, and a resourceful and determined (if a bit naive) girl. And Thorne, well, let’s just say Thorne is that perfect mix between all the roguish bad good guys in all the books and movies I’ve ever loved. (It’s hard NOT to have a crush on him.)

And even though Cinder’s finally coming into her own, and there are some brilliant moments, it’s still a middle book in a series. It doesn’t stand as well on its own as Scarlet did, but I wasn’t disappointed with where the story is going. Meyer has created a terrifically interesting world, and is doing some fun things mixing the fairy tales in with the cyborg/futuristic elements. I can’t wait to see how it all ends.

Dangerous

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by Shannon Hale
First sentence: “The warehouse was coffin dark.”
Support your local independent bookstore: buy it there!
Release date: March 4, 2014
Review copy given to me by our publishing rep.
Content: There’s some intense action, and a few characters die. But there’s no language (its all “bleeped” out), and no sex. I think it belongs in the YA section at the store (grades 6-8) but I’d give it to curious younger kids.

Maisie Brown has lived a quiet life. She has scientist (read: introverted) parents and is happily homeschooled in her community just outside of Salt Lake City. But she has a secret dream: she wants to be an astronaut. She doesn’t think this will happen: she’s missing one of her arms, after all. But her middle name is Danger (literally) and when she gets an opportunity to enter a contest to win a week at a space camp in Houston, she goes for it.

And gets in.

She arrives at the camp — run by billionaire genius (not playboy) Bonnie Howell, who built the first elevator into space — not knowing that this week will change her life. That she’ll meet the Boy of her Dreams (who’s more than a bit of a jerk). That she’ll meet friends and watch them die. That she’ll become truly Dangerous.

In many ways, this was a breath of fresh air. One gets bogged down in the current trends in young adult/teen literature (read: paranormal or dystopian/post-apocalyptic) and to have something that is honestly science fiction with high tech gadgets, spaceships, and alien lifeforms. With honest-to-goodness average people doing techy, fun, science-based things. It was wonderful. And I really enjoyed Maisie as a character. She’s Latina (her mother’s from Paraguay), she’s smart, she’s confident, she’s disabled and she doesn’t let it get in her way. (In fact, at one point, she makes herself a pretty cool robotic arm.) And Hale does a good job incorporating most of the various elements she throws at us. The “fireteam” is a hodgepodge mix of races and cultures, but none of them seem like stereotypes (to me) and there ends up being a reason for it in the end. And although the love triangle was pretty silly (I think Hale makes it clear that it’s supposed to be silly), I did like that the love interest wasn’t love at first sight.

I did have some quibbles: mostly (and I understand why she did this) that she created a character who swears a lot, but then “bleeped” out all of the swear words. Literally. It pulled me out of the story, every single time. And while I loved that the parents were good people and good parents, they were a bit… corny. Which (again) pulled me out from enjoying story.

But, even with the quibbles, Hale does know how to spin a tale. And I was kept guessing with whom to trust and the ultimate motives. And a Latina superhero girl who kicks butt and is awesome and yet vulnerable without being irritating is, well, awesome.

How I Became a Ghost

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by Tim Tingle
First line: “Maybe you have never read a book written by a ghost before.”
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Content: This is not a happy story. This is a sad and painful story. And even though the language is suitable for ages 8 and up, the content is, well, hard. And sad. And painful. (It was difficult even for me to get through because of the subject matter.) It’s in the middle grade (3-5th grade) section of the bookstore, but I’d be careful which child to give it to.

There was a time in my life, when I was junior or senior in high school, when I would have loved this story.

Isaac is a Choctaw boy, happy growing up in the swamps of the south. That is until the Nahullos — the white people — come along, and begin forcing his people out of their homes. And that’s when Isaac begins seeing ghosts. He sees shades of how his family and friends will die (horrible, horrible deaths). He foretells his own death and becomes a ghost. (No surprise: it’s in the first sentence!)

It’s when they’re on the Trail of Tears, however, that things get intense. The soldiers kidnap a girl, and it’s up to Isaac — as a ghost — and his friend — who can morph into a panther — to rescue her. They do, and it’s quite interesting how it happens.

I mentioned that I would have loved this story when I was younger. It’s because I was fascinated by — that seems the wrong word — the Native Americans, and their genocide. I would have eaten this book up, and passed it along to everyone I could. Now, though? Now, I just felt impossibly sad. I know it’s a tale that Needs to be told, a story that so many people need to be reminded of. But call it liberal guilt, call it having children: I couldn’t stomach it. It wasn’t violent, necessarily, but it was heart-wrenching. And even though Isaac turned out to be a hero, I never could find it in my heart to be proud of him (even though I wanted to).

It’s a well-written story, and a book that needs to be out there. I’m just not sure that I’m the right reader for it.

(Just for the record: because this is a Cybils nominee, I’ve been asked to make sure y’all know this is my opinion only, and not that of the panel.)

Parched

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by Melanie Crowder
First line: “Sniff-sniff.”
Support your local independent bookstore: buy it there!
Content: There’s some harsh situations — a character was kidnapped and brutally treated, another character is shot and killed — but there’s no swearing at all. It’s not an action-packed book, so even though it’s on a 3-5th grade writing level, I’d be picky about which kid to give this to.

The world has turned to dust. Water is hard to find. And that makes anyone with water — or who can find water — valuable. Sarel’s family had water, until the gangs came through and killed Sarel’s parents and burned the compound to the ground. All that’s left is Sarel and the dog pack her father trained. It’s not a good thing; Sarel is running out of the little water she has left. Musa has a talent for dowsing, and has been kidnapped (or sold; I was never quite sure) to the gangs to find water. One night, Musa escapes, and finds his way to Sarel’s compound. It’s up to the two of them to work together to survive.

As you can tell, there isn’t much to this slim (seriously: it’s 152 pages.) novel. It’s highly introspective, more narrative than anything else. Even with the tension mounting to the end, it’s a quiet book about survival. I liked it, but I never really connected with it. Some of that was the quietness of it all. But it was also that I wanted more. I am not saying I needed a 300 page action-filled book, but I finished this one feeling like there was something missing. There wasn’t quite enough to it. I wanted more about how the world ended up parched. More about Sarel and her past. More about Musa and his talents. (Though I didn’t want more dog.) I wanted more connection between the characters. And the ending kind of came out of nowhere to me: I wanted answers as to how the book got to that point.

That said, the writing was gorgeous. And I have to give Crowder props for setting a dystopia book in an African-feeling setting. But it just wasn’t all I wanted it to be.

(Just for the record: because this is a Cybils nominee, I’ve been asked to make sure y’all know this is my opinion only, and not that of the panel.)

The Wells Bequest

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by Polly Shulman
First sentence: “The Wednesday when the whole time-travel adventure began, I was fiddling with my game controller, trying to make the shoot button more sensitive.”
Support your local independent bookstore: buy it there!
Content: The main character is a bit obsessed with the girl (too much for my taste in a time-traveling, science fiction adventure book) and there’s a terrorist threatening to destroy NYC. It’s in the middle grade (3-5 grade) section of the bookstore, though I personally would hesitate before giving it to just any third grader, though I’m not sure I could pinpoint why.

Leo is the son of Russian immigrants who really only expect two things from him: excellence and to be scientifically minded. Leo — for better or for worse — is neither of those. At least not in the traditional sense. Leo is a Tinkerer. He loves taking things apart and putting them back together. He loves building new and better things. Which makes him perfect for the page program of the New York Circulating Material Repository. He gets there in a weird, round-about way, though: a time-traveling version of himself and an unknown girl (Jaya Rao, who was in the first book of this series The Grimm Legacy. Thankfully this one stands on its own, however.) stops in his room to tell him to read H. G. Wells’ The Time Machine.

I’d like to say that an adventure starts there, and there is a bit of an adventure that involves NikolaTesla, Mark Twain, and a crazed British page that has a raging crush on Jaya. I while I did enjoy reading this book, mostly I felt like it was a set-piece for Shulman to show off all the Really Cool Things that could come from reading science fiction books. There are many references to classic science fiction (which I got, but I wonder how an elementary school student would handle) and the inventions that come out of them are really neat. But I felt like that was the entire point of the plot. And I kind of wanted more action and less cool inventions.

(There’s also the side issue of Leo being Obsessed — though not in a crazy way — with kissing Jaya. I know he’s a hormonal pre-teen boy, but get on with it already. It’s a science fiction time travel book. I felt like it was a distraction.)

Even with my qualms, it was a fun story. And I’m curious about the first one as well.

(Just for the record: because this is a Cybils nominee, I’ve been asked to make sure y’all know this is my opinion only, and not that of the panel.)

The Real Boy

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by Anne Ursu
First sentence: “The residents of the gleaming hilltop town of Asteri called their home, simply, the City.”
Support your local independent bookstore: buy it there!
Content: Some intense moments — both physically and psychologically — and the language and pacing are a bit slow, especially for a struggling reader. Still, it fits in the middle grade (3-5th grade) section of the bookstore.
Review copy snagged from the ARC shelves at my place of employment.

After I finished reading this, A took a look at it and said,”Huh.’The Real Boy’? Is that like Pinocchio?”

Well, yes. Yes it is.

The island of Aletheia is full of magic, even though there are no wizards anymore. There are magic smiths, and Oscar is the hand to one. Which means, he collects and chops the herbs and basically stays out of the way. That is, until the apprentice turns up dead and the magic smith go missing. That’s when Oscar’s world starts unraveling: everything he thought Aletheia was built on, everything he thought his master was turns out to be built upon a lie. And it’s up to Oscar and Callie, the healer’s apprentice, to figure out what the truth is, and how to set everything right. And, because I alluded to it, yes, the Pinocchio story does play a small role.

This was a lovely, lyrical book; Ursu is a magnificent, quiet writer. She knows how to evoke a feeling and a place — the forest is dark and magical and calming. And even though it’s never explicitly said, Ursu makes it obvious through little words and phrases that Oscar has some form of autism. That simple fact upped the tension when it was up to Oscar become the Hero of this story. How — if he doesn’t know how to interact with people — is he supposed to figure everything out? Enter Callie, who was a remarkable character. (In fact, all the characters, from the magic smiths to the bullies, to the people in the city who were Indulged and Coddled, were remarkably written.) She is the healer’s apprentice, magicless in a world where magic is everything, and yet she’s smart and plucky and brave, but most of all caring.

In addition to all that, and refreshingly, it’s not a start of a series! Hooray for stand-alone books! My only detriment is that I’m not sure this will appeal to many kids. But for the ones who are daring enough (or quiet enough) to pick it up, they’re in for a real treat.

(Just for the record: because this is a Cybils nominee, I’ve been asked to make sure y’all know this is my opinion only, and not that of the panel.)

Flygirl

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by Sherri L. Smith
ages: 12+
First sentence: “It’s a Sunday afternoon, and the phonograph player is jumping like a clown in a parade the way Jolene and I are dancing.”

Ida Mae Jones has always wanted to fly. Ever since she was put behind the wheel (is it a wheel?) of her daddy’s Jenny and taught how, she knew that this was what she was born to do. Except, she’s an African American (yes, I am being politically correct here), and lives in the outskirts of New Orleans. Not only can she not get a pilot’s license because she’s a woman; she can’t get one because she’s the wrong color.

It’s only when her younger brother spies and article about the Army’s WASP program (that’s Women’s Airforce Service Pilots), and that there was a Chinese-American woman in it, that Ida gets an inkling of an idea. She forges her daddy’s pilot’s license, and since she’s light enough skinned to pass for white, she applies. And gets in.

The part in the program is what interested me the most about Smith’s book. I thought that while the conflict between black and white, and Ida’s internal conflict about lying about who she really is, was interesting (and probably worth some thought), I really liked Ida learning how to fly military planes. I liked the challenges posed by the program, the obstacles she had to surmount in order to succeed in a man’s world. It was not only historically interesting, but had a universal appeal: what woman hasn’t faced the “you can’t do it because you’re a girl” and fought her way to success in whatever that is?

It’s books like these that make one grateful for the pioneers, the women who were courageous enough to break the race, sex, or whatever barrier, and achieve their dreams. And it’s good to have a book like this to remind us of it. As well as being a cracking good story.