Bookami

My Big Nose and Other Natural Disasters by Sydney Salter

The last three books I've read have all had to deal with unrealistic expectations.  Can I be just like my perfectly beautiful and talented big sister?  Can I be the thinnest, most disciplined girl in my high school?  Can having a nose job gain me poise, popularity and a McDreamy?  The last question is being asked by senior Jory Michaels.  Jory is out to find a well-paying summer job that earns her enough money to buy a perky new nose.  The problem is that she can only find a job delivering flowers and wedding cakes, and Jory's driving record is not exactly pristine.  Will Jory end the summer with cake all over her face or find that once she learns to accept herself a bit more, the cake and a McDreamy are hers for the taking?

My Big Nose and Other Natural Disasters had me asking two questions: how often do I really look at a person on the street and think that they are ugly; and will there ever be a time in my life when I don't worry about my appearance?  The answer to the first question is pretty simple.  I can't ever remember thinking that a person is just down-right hideous.  Okay, I might think that that lipstick doesn't look good on her or that the guy in the red sweatshirt could really use a haircut, but I never really think that a person is ugly.  In other words, my thoughts about the exterior really do tend to be superficial and silly in nature.  I guess I really am one of those people that believe it's what's on the inside that counts.  My husband would say that this is just me being cute and naive, but when I look at my friends, I'm fairly sure their thoughts would lean the same way.  High school is a super competitive environment, but so is pick-up time on the playground.  I can't deny that I look around the playground to check out what the other moms are wearing.  It's human nature, which I guess is the answer to my next question.  I might finally stop worrying about my appearance when my kids are out of school.  Of course, by then I'll probably be back working in an office, and then I'll have to check out what all the women younger than me are wearing.  All I can say is that it's a good thing that books like My Big Nose and Other Natural Disasters are out there, trying to help all those teen girls get off the appearance roller coaster a bit sooner than retirement age.

Love reading debut authors?  Visit www.classof2k9.com to find the newest voices in middle grade and YA fiction.

What I Saw and How I Lied by Judy Blundell

With its steamy, cinematic writing, it's no wonder that What I Saw and How I Lied is nominated for the National Book Award in Young People's Literature.  In film noir style, Judy Blundell tells the dramatic story of Evie and her family post World War II.  When Joe, Evie's father, returns home from the war, Evie expects that life will go back to normal, but then the phone calls start, and Joe decides to whisk the family away to Florida for an extended vacation.  There, they meet Peter Coleridge, an ex-GI who served under Joe in Austria.  Evie comes to realize that Peter's appearance in Florida is not coincidental.  There is a secret between Peter and Joe, but Evie falls in love with Peter anyway.  Then an accident occurs, and Evie is forced to decide whether to be loyal to her first love or save her parents from ruin.

Much Like Godbersen's The Luxe, Blundell has given readers a dark, secretive historical novel with a contemporary feel.   This is a coming-of-age story with a sharp edge that is sure to entice even those young readers who believe all historical novels are boring and banal.

Paper Towns by John Green

I often tell people that I fell in love with my husband in our senior AP English class.  We had a teacher who loved to have us read our papers aloud.  While mine were fairly uninspired, I could have listened to my husband read his for hours.  Not only were they insightful and eloquently composed, he was completely confident that his interpretations were the only correct ones.  He had a certain bravado that few at 17 or 18 have yet mastered.  Reading a John Green novel makes me think back to those high school days and how audacious teenagers can be.  Whether you're a nerd or the new guy in school or just completely average, a John Green novel suggests that all young adults can be intrepid given an appropriate opportunity.  This is certainly the case with the protagonist of Paper Towns.  Quentin, also known as Q, Jacobsen generally travels the road of the straight and narrow.  He works hard in school, is a loyal friend and freakishly well-adjusted given that both his parents are therapists.  Only Margaret Roth Spiegelman knows how to crack his upstanding citizen facade.  Margaret is Q's the girl-next-door, but is really anything but.  Needing an associate and a car for a series of necessary revenge pranks, Margaret taps Q. to become her accomplice.  After the all night revenge campaign, Q. wakes up the next morning to find that Margaret has disappeared.  She's done this before and all assume she'll just show back up in a few days.  She doesn't, but Quentin discovers that she has left some clues as to her whereabouts, and it's up to him to find her.  As the quest becomes more convoluted, Q. ponders whether he really knows Margaret at all: 

" That was perfect, I thought: you listen to people so that you can imagine them, and you hear all the terrible and wonderful things people do to themselves and to one another, but in the end the listening exposes you even more than it exposes the people you're trying to listen to." 

Searching for Margaret isn't really about searching for Margaret.  It's about searching for Q's idea of Margaret and how can she possibly live up to that?  Still, Quentin's journey for Margaret does require him to be bold and daring in a way unknown to him.  It allows him to live life before "the allure of a life rightly lived - college and job and husband and babies and all that bullshit" takes over.  It's a gift from Q's girl-next-door much like this novel is a gift to all who read it.

For its similar beautiful and comedic qualities, I suggest you read Someday This Pain Will Be Useful to You by Peter Cameron.

Losers by Matthue Roth

So I'm sort of on this kick of teen guy fiction right now.  It's all John Green's fault.  I'm having a hard time waiting for Paper Towns to come out so over the weekend I re-read Looking for Alaska and An Abundance of Katherines, which then led me to pick up Hero Type, and now I've just finished Losers.  While not quite as literary as a Green novel or as socially forward thinking as Hero Type, Losers won me over with its almost cool main character and crisp, descriptive phrases.

Jupiter Glazer is fourteen, a Russian immigrant, a high school freshman, almost friendless, and poor.  His accent and crazy name make him a target when all he'd really like to do is walk down the halls of his Philly high school with anonymity.  He is expected to come home each day to work in the elevator parts factory where he also lives with his well-meaning, clueless parents.  Jupiter would love to find a place to hide for the next four years, but then a brief conversation with a waitress gives him an idea.  What if he could lose his accent?  He spends his first high school weekend doing nothing but listening to all sorts of American music.  By Monday his accent is gone, and with the luck of meeting a few key people and being in the right place at the right time, Jupiter finds himself on the fringe of the cool kid crowd, and not totally hated by the rest of the student body within a month of entering North Shore High.

While Losers may not have the most original plot, Roth certainly knows how to turn a phrase and draw in his audience.  Take his description of the diner where he meets the waitress:

"The Country Club was the most revered and upscale of all the dirty, deep-fried, oil-hanging-in-the-air and waitresses-who-call-you-"hon" places you can imagine.  They even had a dress code there.  It ran along the lines of "No Shirt, No Service, " but it was still a dress code."

This paragraph totally had me craving a visit to Waffle House for one of their totally greasy but still fluffy light omelettes and an order of butter drenched grits. I'm not sure an original plot is all that necessary when you can make a reader's mouth water.  As the volumes of YA novels published each year continue to grow, it's going to be less and less about what happens, and more about how you say it, and I think Matthue Roth knows how to say it.

Hero Type by Barry Lyga

Kevin Ross, Kross to his friends, is all over the news these days.  It started when he saved Leah Muldoon, his secret crush of two years, from a serial rapist and murderer. Kross plays it cool by telling everyone he was just in the right place at the right time, but everyone in Brookdale is so proud of him.  Signs all over town rave about his courage.  The mayor has given him both the key to the city and a sweet deal on his first car, complete with two Support Our Troops magnetic ribbons.  And that's when it all falls apart.  Kevin's Dad, a former military man himself, tells Kevin to get rid of the ribbons, but unfortunately a photographer catches Kevin throwing the ribbons away.  Kross is still getting lots of media attention, but this time it's not for being a hero.

If ever there was a literary character that deserved to go postal, it's Kevin Ross.  He truly is the poster child for dysfunctional teens everywhere.  For starters, when he tells people he was in the right place at the right time to save Leah, it's true, but that's because he's basically been stalking her for two years.  And sure, it's his Dad who tells him to get rid of the ribbons, but Kevin is too nervous to ask his father about his own time in the military.  He knows that his father's discharge from the army seems to have made him a bit mental, but he'd rather tip toe around the subject than talk to his Dad about it.  Oh, and Kevin's parents are divorced because of his father's fragile mental state, and now his mother lives thousands of miles away in California with her partner, Rita, and Kevin's younger brother.  Add to all of this that Kevin is kind of short and skinny, has major pizza face, has very few friends, and lives in a basement apartment cluttered with all the junk his Pop picks up along his garbage route, and a rampage would certainly not be out of the question.  With so many issues swirling around Kevin's persona, Kevin could easily become the creepy guy you hope you don't have to sit by on the bus or get stuck with as a lab partner. He could easily become a serial killer himself, but Kevin is smart, funny, and about as all-American as you can get.  Life in Brookdale, Maryland is not easy for Kevin, but each day he gets up, goes to school, faces his opponents, and along the way learns to accept a little help from a few friends.  I'd say that's pretty heroic, wouldn't you?

Looking for another novel not afraid to tackle some sociological issues?  Might I suggest The Disreputable History of Frankie Landau-Banks by E. Lockhart.

Looks by Madeleine George

This book left me open, exposed, raw.  As the jacket notes it's "as painfully honest as your own diary."  It takes you back to your most humiliating moment in high school or junior high or even elementary school.  We all have them.  The event that made you feel so completely alone and pathetic that you wished to be invisible.  But this book does more than make you remember your most vulnerable moment.  It makes you recall when you made someone else feel that way, and the guilt and shame come rushing back like a tidal wave.

Despite her thundering frame, Meghan Ball is hardly ever seen.  She walks ghost-like down the halls of Valley Regional High.  People say and do things in front of her as if she doesn't exist, and she almost doesn't until she spies Aimee Zorn.  Anorexic Aimee is Meghan's kindred spirit.  Like great actors, both use their bodies to say what they cannot with their voices. When pretty, well-liked Cara Roy steals Aimee's poem, Meghan and Aimee work together to get the poem back, and in the process both gain some visibility.

This is not a book about eating disorders.  It's not about wanting to be beautiful.  It's not just about high school.  This is a book about the emotional and physical shells we all create to survive day to day life.  It's as relevant to a 35-year-old as it is to a 16-year-old, and it's truly a poetic, lyrical masterpiece of a debut novel. 

If you are intrigued by this novel, you might also appreciate the haunting quality of Skinny by Ibi Kaslik.

The Fortunes of Indigo Skye by Deb Caletti

Back in late 2004 I had the lovely privilege to be an attendee at the National Book Awards Ceremony.  Deb Caletti's Honey, Baby, Sweetheart was one of the finalists in the Young People's Literature category.  From a sales perspective, I totally wanted Caletti to win.  I knew her book had the most commercial appeal, and 2004 had been a bit of a softer year for YA after the 2003 release of Eragon (hard to comp those sort of sales). Of course, the National Book Award judges don't choose the winners based on commercial appeal, and Pete Hautman's Godless won.  Now that I've read The Fortunes of Indigo Skye, I think I might have been doing Caletti a bit of a disservice.  Yes, it's true that Honey, Baby, Sweetheart had the most commercial appeal, but Caletti is an amazingly detailed and colorful writer.  How did I miss that with Honey, Baby, Sweetheart?  I'm reading Queen of Everything right now, and those perfectly skilled descriptions are there too, and it was her first novel. I should totally have been ranking her at the top of my list with Sarah Dessen, Ellen Hopkins and Julie Anne Peters.  I must have been reading the finalists too quickly, or maybe I just didn't read with the right eye.  Certainly how I read is starting to change with the creation of this site.  When you're a buyer for a category as trend driven as YA, your sales cap must be on 100% of the time.  Not that my job at Borders didn't allow me to step out on various titles, but even then I think I was probably choosing titles with sales in mind.  After all, I wanted my category to perform well.  Now, I'm truly reading for me.   I'm in this place where I can re-read a passage several times and not worry about the other books sitting on the nightstand.  If I don't post for a week, no one's going to yell at me.  There's no author lunch the next day for which I must have read the book.  It's totally freeing.  I'm like a kid in a candy store.  I finally have the time in my life to appreciate the great skill it takes to write a novel, as well as the skill it takes to read one.  Reviewing books isn't as easy as I thought it would be, but when you get to read colorful, mellifluous phrases written by great authors like Caletti, it certainly is rewarding. 

Where People Like Us Live by Patricia Cumbie

Libby and her family are always moving.  This time it's to Racine, "Rubberville" Wisconsin, a small factory town on Lake Michigan.  Libby and her older siblings generally don't even bother to make friends anymore, but in her first week in Rubberville, Libby meets Angie.  Libby thinks Angie has it all: lots of clothes, a room she doesn't have to share, a caring stepdad and a devil-may-care attitude.  She can't believe they're both going to be freshman together in the Fall, but soon Libby realizes that Angie's life isn't all it's cracked up to be.  The stepdad isn't as great as she thought, and all of Angie's great clothes are just a way to buy silence.  Should Libby tell someone what she thinks is going on?  Should she tell someone what she saw?  If she does, she may lose the only friend she's really ever had.   Of course, they're probably going to move again anyway so what will it matter?  And that pretty much sums up my problem with this novel.  While Patricia Cumbie certainly knows how to turn a phrase, I found the plot to be as sleepy as the town of Rubberville. It's hard to believe that Libby is really worried that people will think negatively of her and Angie when likely she's going to be gone again in six months. Where People Like Us Live is slow, and Angie's big secret is just too obvious. I also found Libby to be just a bit too naive for a 14-year-old with an older sister and brother.  She even shares a room with her older sister.  While parents may want to view their youngest through rose colored glasses, I've found that generally the baby in the family is the most rebellious and better at hiding it.  Libby just didn't ring true for me. 

Shift by Jennifer Bradbury

Synopsis: Best friends, Chris and Win, set out on a cross-country bike trek to Seattle before beginning their Freshman year of college.  Along the way, the two have a fight and stop riding together.  Chris makes it to Seattle and then heads home to start school.  Win doesn't, and no one is quite sure what has happened to him.

Review: How far the world of YA has come.  Forty years ago the cover of Shift would have just noted the author's name with a first initial like Hinton's name appeared on The Outsiders.  No way could a chick write such a great guy book, but much like Hinton, that is exactly what Jennifer Bradbury has done.  And the best part is, it's a contemporary guy novel without the traditional guy plot.  This book is not about a guy trying to get the girl.  It's not about a kid who wants to blow up his school. It's not about a guy trying to kill himself.  It's just about two guys who start out a trip as best friends, fight a lot along the way, disband their friendship for a while, and then discover they can pretty much count on each other for anything even as they realize they don't really need each other anymore.   

This is not to say that this debut novel isn't without a few flaws.  The dialogue between Win and Chris seemed a bit off.  It's all a bit too clean.  I just don't know many 18-year-old guys who don't use the F-word at least once in every other sentence.  In addition, it's not really a mystery.  Win's disappearing act was pretty obvious.  Controlling father, laissez-faire mother, etc.  Having said that, moving back and forth between Chris' present life and the trip still gives a good tight, tense feeling to the novel.  While I've never read a novel that didn't romanticize a cross-country ride as life-changing, I'm still happy to have taken the journey with Win and Chris. 

The Disreputable History of Frankie Landau-Banks by E. Lockhart

Synopsis: Frankie Landau-Banks begins her sophomore year at Alabaster Preparatory Academy hoping to get noticed by senior hottie Matthew Livingston.  When her wish comes true, though, Frankie discovers it's not all that great to be Matthew's girlfriend.  Matthew belongs to an all-male secret society, and suddenly Frankie wants to be noticed for more than her looks and who she's dating.  Who is this group to exclude women, especially when Frankie knows that she smarter than any of it's members?

Review: With a cover reminiscent of The Secret, this book's secret is that it is a witty, flirty chick-lit novel that offers it's readers so much more than the typical girl trying to get the guy story.

Frankie Landau-Banks, "Bunny Rabbit" to her family, has always felt inconsequential.  Her father, an Alabaster alum from the days when the school allowed only men, treats her as if she is a five-year-old.  Her first and only boyfriend, Porter, fooled around with another girl and never even apologized.  And when she begins her sophomore year and discovers that her big crush, Matthew Livingston, doesn't even remember her from last year even though she was introduced to him twice, it's certainly discouraging.  Matthew only notices her when she falls off her bike and gets hurt.  Frankie realizes that he totally likes the idea of rescuing a damsel in distress.  Why is that?  Of course, it does get her invited to a late night golf course party as his date, and soon she becomes his girlfriend.  At first, Frankie is totally thrilled to be Matthew's girl, but soon he begins to cancel plans he made with her to go hang with his friend, Alpha.  He's also lying about where he's going.  Frankie decides to follow him one night and discovers that he belongs to the Basset Hounds, a secret all-male organization dedicated to partying and pranking.  Why does this group exclude women when Alabaster is now co-ed?  And why does Matthew always ditch her for his friends in the club?   With Halloween approaching and the need for an awesome prank, Frankie creates the perfect opportunity for her to become the secret puppet-master of the Bassets.

I really love how this novel takes what we have come to view as typical teenage behavior and turns it 180.  In so many novels girls lose their self-worth when the boy their pining for treats them badly.  When Matthew treats Frankie badly, she takes action.  She becomes the leader of Bassets and does it better than Matthew or Alpha ever could.  She creates pranks that have meaning.  Her exploits force the school to offer healthier food choices, recognize that school wide meetings should not be held in a chapel, and that the "old boy prep school" attitude is as dried up as an out of use swimming pool.  When Matthew rudely and continuously corrects her grammar, she creates her own vernacular based on what she calls "neglected positives" (disgruntled-negative, gruntled-positive).  Frankie is an innovator.  She can change the world.  As she herself thinks at the end of the novel:

"It is better to be alone, she figures, than to be with someone who can't see who you are.  It is better to lead than to follow.  It is better to speak up than stay silent.  It is better to open doors than shut them on people.

She will not be simple and sweet.  She will not be what people tell her she should be.  That Bunny Rabbit is dead."

Although a bit less issue driven, you might also enjoy, I'd Tell You I Love You, But Then I'd Have to Kill You by Ally Carter.