ARC Review: Six of Crows - Leigh Bardugo

Six of Crows
Leigh Bardugo
Series: Six of Crows #1
Genre: Young Adult, Fantasy
Release Date: September 29nd, 2015
Publisher: Henry Holt and Co.
Rating: 4.5 out of 5 stars
Goodreads | Amazon | Book Depository

Look, if that divinely morbid cover art isn't enough to convince you . . . then I'm pretty much at a loss.

I'll try anyway.

The incredible amount of hype for this book unsettled me, primarily because I've never read Leigh Bardugo's previous work. The line for this ARC copy (thanks Henry Holt and Company!) was excessive, and when I first picked it up, I had relatively indifferent thoughts towards it, even after the blurb.

However, after barely the first page, I was hooked. This, in itself, is really a feat. If you're on a a reading low, read this book. I haven't really been getting that interested in what I'm reading these days . . . but this book wrenched me right out of my slump. Bardugo blasts through the first chapter, guns blazing with clever, well-paced prose, lively and mysterious characters, a fitting and adaptive tone, an eerie and dangerous setting -- it's fantastic. The greatest achievement of this book, however, is in its totality: it is one hell of a series-starter. Bardugo is able to present six of the wildest and angstiest people I've had the pleasure of reading, with a twisted as hell plot, and she does this all while laying down un-finished story arcs, tiny Chekov guns, and a breathtaking finale that releases the major tension in the novel but piles on so many more questions.

In short, this book is probably smarter than all of us.

The characters are just incredible. Kaz, Inej, Nina, Matthias, Jesper, and Wylan. Each of the six main characters are utterly believable and interesting in their own rights. Now, this is hard enough to do with traditional narration. But Bardugo tackles the mountain of a challenge of using multiple-character narration in this piece, giving us five different persepctives. AND IT WORKS. So often, characters in such pieces are either reduced to caricatured language, or they all sound the same. In this piece, Bardugo really works herself hard to keep each of the characters distinct. It's not completely distinguishable, mind you, and there are a couple of instances of overlap -- but this is to be expected as six people should share some kind of similar thought.

Also . . . the characters. They're so good. They're handled so well. Kaz, for example, is nearly indestructible for much of the novel due to his level of forethought, intelligence, and utter emotional coldness . . . but Bardugo still imparts great suffering and hardship on Kaz and because of her ability to craft well-defined characters, we suffer as well. And it's weird that we suffer because all of the characters have the morals of a black hole.

Also, THE CHARACTERS. Their romances! Are! Not! Prioritized! The characters have emotional journies that are not entirely relative to the main plot of the novel, and this has the incredible effect of making the novel feel as though its characters are historical and actually real rather than fictional. All three of the main ships in this novel never interrupt the main storyline, and we are then able to actually watch how the ships affect characters in their decisions unrelated to romance. It's a work of art.

The prevalence of non-traditional morals, characters with disabilities, strong female friendships, and romances that back-grounded and developed . . . . it's good on the representational front. Not perfect, but good enough to keep me going.

The writing is just good. It's just so good. And its implemented to build a world that I want to live in after having read it. I want to be in Kerch and explore the whole of the city.

- Marlon

What is your weapon of choice? 
Let us know in the comments!

Double Review: None of the Above - I.W. Gregario

None of the Above
I.W. Gregario
Genre: Young Adult, Contemporary
Rating: 4.5 out of 5 stars
Goodreads | Amazon | Book Depository

Happy Pride! This is gonna be a long post so you might want to just scroll down past the text and pretty pictures to the REVIEW part! What follows this sentence is a lot of stuff related to the book, and indeed has some thoughts about the book, but if you're just looking for a quick review, scroll down. Otherwise enjoy my incredibly dull syntax and poor humor:

It has been an incredible week for LGBTQ+ people across the world: Mexico, and then shortly after, the U.S. both nationally recognized and legalized same-sex marriages, granting much needed marital rights (like the right to inherit a partner's estate or easily adopt their children) to those who needed them. Even more striking perhaps was Ireland's decision to remove the stifling requirements that trans people (over 18, unless a doctor's statement companies the request) used to have to meet to legally change their sex or gender identification on their legal documents (passport, license, etc). This comes barely a month after Ireland's same-sex marriage referendum.

This is much-needed good news for some LGBTQ+ people. However, there is still work to be done. And that brings me to the novel currently resting in my Top Ten books, and one of the most important books I've read this year. I.W. Gregario's None of the Above, a story about Kristin, a varsity track & field nut with an almost cookie-cutter life. Until, of course, she tries to have sex with her boyfriend, also a varsity track and field nut (seriously there is a lot of running in this book) the night after homecoming, and as our horrible Sex-Ed teachers warned us: that's when it all went to hell.

Kristin refers herself to a gynecologist and quickly learns she has Complete Androgen Insensitivity Syndrome (CAIS but referred to as AIS in the novel for simplification purposes). This means her chromosomal sex is "Xy." This is commonly referred to as "male, genetically male, natally male" or and so on, but basically she is physiologically between sexes, though most with CAIS are identified as physiologically female and generally choose to identify this way post-diagnosis. Kristin's body cannot fully use the testosterone and other androgens she is producing, and therefore, her genital makeup was never affected by any androgen hormone, and so while she has testes, they are not descended and sit next to her vagina, which is not fully developed.

Now, that all may sound incredibly complex, and it really, really is. Gender and sexuality are two massive spectrums we are often reduced and taught as sides of a coin. I believe that's why Gregario opted to go with something as cut-and-dry as CAIS, because most people in the U.S. have never had to work through the complex way biology and socialization actually intertwine. I patiently await the day we have novels representing far more complex cases of intersex persons, but considering it took us this long to grant marital benefits to same-sex couples, I believe the decision to have what Gregario refers to as one of the most common kinds of intersex, represented.

While my book-loving companions are usually very progressive, I was still hesitant and pessimistic concerning the response to this novel. But go on goodreads or Amazon . . . over four stars on both platforms (and on every platform I've checked). The response has pretty much been this:

Seriously, Karen. 

What I mean is that a lot of people who previously did not know what intersex really entailed or where it fit, really took to Kristin's journey and, though I've seen some well-intentioned but still a little in bad taste comments, I've witnessed an overwhelmingly positive response. I was willing, right then and there, just because of this kind of response, to give this book five of the biggest stars I've ever given and just be done with the whole thing.

BUT I SHOULD PROBABLY JUST REVIEW IT: (Warning: very weak spoilers ahead. Also note: I actually met with the author during BEA and asked her a couple of questions. I've paraphrased them/integrated them below.)

Writing

The writing itself is phenomenal. Gregario's words leap of the page, syrupy sweet:

"Dawn is my favorite time of day. There's something sacred about being awake when the rest of the world is sleeping, when the sky is just turning toward the light, and you can still hear the sounds of night before the engines and conversations of the day drown them out. When I start on an early-morning run, there's a clarity to the world, a sense that it belongs to me." (Gregario, 1)

deftly hilarious:

"We'd literally been friends since before we were born, when our mothers bonded in postnatal yoga." (6)

tremendously sharp:

"What I really wanted to know was how I was going to tell my boyfriend that I had testicles." (41) 

 and finally downright cruel:

"He leaned in, and I allowed myself to hope that he was going to listen. But instead he just whispered, 'I thought I loved you, you fucking man-whore. And you've been lying to me. I have nothing to say to you. Ever. Again.' . . . The bell rang. The ground went silent. And I began to process how deeply I had been betrayed " (114)

I mean, come on. The first word of the book is dawn, as in, in between day and night. Kristin feels the world belongs to her. There's so much symbolic meaning in the opening paragraph, in just the first word it was either one of the most clever openings or just accidental good writing. I can definitely understand why an author would have their protag feel the world belongs to them: to totally and violently take it away from them. That seems quite in line with what the rest of the opening chapters are like: setting Kristin up on a high pedestal to be knocked down. But I can't seem to get over how the first word is dawn. Day and night are such a powerful symbol for sex, especially considering that day and night are a spectrum, with many different places in between. (I asked Gregario about this. It seems she might be on the accident side, but it doesn't lessen the genius.) 

Anyway. What stands out throughout the book is how fluid and effortless Gregario shifts from the above kinds of language. As many reviewers have commented already, Gregario gives an incredible sense of what it must feel like to be in Kristin's position, by drawing the reader in so deeply to Kristin's mind via the easily accessible, and very natural language used. We are meant to feel every high as if it is ours, and every low as if it is ours. While it is a lot easier to grasp dancing, running, or pancakes than a diagnosis that sends your world spinning, Gregario never lets us go without feeling connected to Kristin. This is especially true during the parts of the book where Kristin was being bullied or otherwise persecuted And this is pretty much half of the book, so . . . fantastic job.

As a surgeon, it might have been tempting to info-dump the AIS information all at once, but Gregario is as deft with the pen as she is with the scalpel, opting for a phenomenal balance of just enough information for Kristin and the reader to understand, while focusing far more on how Kristin responds, drawing me to my second point:

Characters

I found myself wanting to give Kristin a good hug and slap at the same time. Make no mistake, she is less cruel to herself than her bullies but still painfully so. She often refers to herself by the derogatory term "hermaphrodite," and in the beginning feels so disgusted at her self and her body that she can't reconcile with the idea of "identifying" as female. As if it were any less authentic than someone else's identification.

I asked Gregario about this. She said that one of the most difficult parts of writing the book was actually choosing the harsh ways in which Kristin responds, such as using the word "hermaphrodite" considering its negative connotations, and constantly considering the decision to remove her testes (won't spoil if she does or not). In the end, Gregario had to settle with what worked for Kristin.

But it is precisely because of her reactions that the reader gets a sense of how truly terrifying her life has just become. Kristin is a powerful character because she's quite realistic: she balances her athletic life with her school life, has dealt with a major family death, has snark-tastic best friends. She simply makes sense. This is a person I could potentially know, as YA standard as her life might seem. Best of all for a YA character, we get to experience her problematic side a lot more than other characters. Whereas much of the stress in YA books come from external, often magical sources, Kristin's is rooted at least half in self-loathing and the stress that comes with learning something about your body that changes your view of the world. Because of this, Kristin is basically far more realistic than most teenagers in YA books: she's temperamental, aggressive, has a mouth like a wildfire, and is generally falling apart in slow motion. 

Actually, Kristin behaves outrageously, is often in poor form, finds herself insulting trans people and not wanting to care about definitions of heteronormativity. I almost wrote her off as childish, but I realized that, at that age, with that big of a bomb being dropped on her and then that bomb being dropped on the school and her entire life and no immediate support system . . . it begins to take shape why Kristin acts childish: it's because, for the most part, she is a person who is completely defeated and must build an image back of herself. Should I blame her for wanting that image to look like it did before she learned the world was not grayscale? Her reconstruction isn't perfect, but it comes with the promise of something better, at least.

All of the other characters are basically this:

It's high school, so by some YA Creed, we need all of it. We need Vee, the beautiful snarky monster of a best friend with a heart of gold. We need Faith . . . I mean, if you can't guess by her name which one she is, then I can't help you. Vee is hilarious, Faith is there for Kristin, there's loads of high-school drama. We need the secondary group of friends, and the other possible love interests, the firm dad who can only cook one thing, and generally, suburban middle-class white life. 

Gregario spoke to me about this, as well. I could tell that a great many factors pushed the decision to have the setting be what it is. One of the things she had to decide was whether Kristin was going to be white. Considering that so many portrayals of queer characters are often very normative in other senses (are white, for instance) this seems a genuine struggle. In the end, it boiled down to making the book as much about Kristin and her diagnosis as possible. While I am disappointed that intersectionality had to be sacrificed, I genuinely do understand having to pay tribute to what people will read and how easily it will get to them. And the truth is that a novel about a cis-gendered white girl who's middle class is going to reach a wider audience in the United States. Am I sad that that is considered what is normal? Sure, but as far as I understand it, this is one of the first books about intersex (though Gregario points to a couple of others in her closing remarks) out there, so it's critical that readers are able to recognize tropes and narrative cues without explanation or exposition, because the subject matter needs to be as simple and forthright as possible. Am I waiting for the next intersex book to have people of color? That would be a step, yes. Let's write it, people.

To be fair to Gregario, she does include a lesbian intersex woman that Kristin meets. But judging by a couple of confused reactions, especially Kristin's reaction in the book, I can understand the need to keep the book normative.

Also, I'm extremely miffed that the book ends with [SPOILER ALERT] the male secondary love interest basically saving Kristin, both physically and emotionally? Was this necessary? I'm happy for Kristin but the love interest in question had to go out of his way to be with her and isn't just accepting her enough? I want Kristin to be happy, and if being in a relationship makes her happy, then fine, but seriously? The one character who accepts her just happens to be in love with her as well? [SPOILER ALERT]

We don't really need to read another story about it, but it presents us with familiar character tropes and does a lot of work to try shed light on how they respond to certain events, which brings me to:

Plot/Structure 

Okay. Arguably, this is where the novel isn't conventionally incredible. Don't get me wrong, Gregario expertly plans where to execute pitfall moments where Krisin realizes how another part of her life is going to suffer, like when she learns her track scholarship might be revoked because she's not, as she thinks the school will think, female.

However, because it runs like the white suburban high school drama, it is fairly predictable. There's maybe one or two twists that are pleasant surprises but otherwise, the plot is not what you'll remember the book for.

Which is why I won't penalize the book for it. With a book like this, an over-complicated plot would have taken time away from Kristin's struggle. And I honestly don't see anywhere else the plot could have gone, most aspects of Kristin's life were covered, and the book is about the initial journey of learning one is intersex, and the book covers Kristin's initial journey very well. The plot was engaging enough where Kristin was always on her toes, always thinking through something, so it was just enough.

Closing thoughts:

Okay but seriously that one moment on page 53-4 when the kids in the English class are all talking about Shakespeare being a subversive commentator on racism and sexism was beautiful. So many truthbombs being dropped so frequently. 

Also oh my god. This quote:

"Love isn't a choice. You fall for the person, not their chromosomes." 

SO I MADE THIS FOR YOU (using an image from oglyzone's tumblr)

That is so beautiful. I really hope that the fact that this is the most frequently quoted passage from this novel on sites like Goodreads that this will hold true for those people, and eventually, the rest of the world.

One of the final things I discussed with Gregario was this question: have we come to the watershed point? Are queer books of this nature enough to spurn public opinion into action? She mentioned that there seemed to be a quota for diverse books and only so few get out a year. But on the other hand, the U.S. just nationally legalized same-sex marriage, right? Are we doing enough to make the world a better place? Gregario responded, of course, in the only way a writer who has spent hours writing, rewriting, and editing mistakes can: she said. "It's getting there, but we're not there yet." There's a lot of work to do, and this book does enough of it that it should be required reading.

- Marlon

 

Amrutha's Review of None of the Above

Rating: 4 out of 5 Stars

First off, if Marlon didn't emphasize this enough YAY FOR DIVERSE BOOKS AND I.W. GREGORIO. I'm so happy that we get to review this book in a week that has been so happy for the LGBTQIA+ community, and that I got to revel in their joy right alongside them. I cannot stress the importance of equality and I'd also like to take this moment to recognize the role of books and diverse novels in my life. I grew up in an extremely conservative town in Kansas, and outside of what my parents told me or what little TV I watched, my entire opinion on the LGBTQ+ community until age 9 or 10 was formed off of diverse books (a lot of credit to David Leviathan and Maureen Johnson). Books shed light on people of different backgrounds and intersectional diversity and situations that I had never experienced and probably will never experience. I'm forever grateful to diverse books for teaching me when my access to knowledge was limited, and for providing insight on so many communities. I am so glad that None of The Above exists, because it will serve to educate people in the same way that it has educated me.   

IMPORTANT NOTE: This book is not great because it is a diverse book (well it is), but outside of being diverse it is well written, and there is incredible character development. Nothing too crazy happens in the plot, but honestly, I'm not sure it matters, because I cared more about the writing than anything else here.

Kristin is intersex -- there is a link provided in Marlon's review above and I really encourage you to read it and learn more about AIS and other cases. I am not nearly as educated on this topic as Marlon or the internet, but I do read up and try to be informed (for myself, and because the more you know, the more intuitively nonjudgemental you are (emphasis: not that there is anything to judge because someone is from a background different from your own, but it is human nature to judge things you don't know anything about or look different than what you are used to)). 

As Marlon touched on above: the plot is pretty cut and dry and you could pretty much predict it from the start (really the reason for the 4 star rating instead of 5). White girl (Marlon points this out above too) finds out she is intersex, people find out, she gets a lot of hate, she tries to accept herself, the whole nine yards. On its own, the plot is okay. Nothing too WOW, but then, the writing gets thrown in the mix.

While I genuinely enjoyed the writing of the novel of the whole time, even the kind of annoying (but what I found to be realistic to my interpretation of events) voice of Kristin, what I enjoyed most was the accuracy in the voices of cruelty and kindness that approached our protagonist. The voices of cruelty actually shook me while reading them, because although I could never imagine someone saying anything along those lines to me, it is the reality of many people's lives, and I thought the writing really did that reality justice and allowed me some insight into it. While Kristin annoyed me a lot in the beginning, I realize that I might've reacted the same way in that situation -- especially because the only person she has to rely on is her father (which is nice, but not what she really needed). I think her voice really held true to her character throughout the novel, and that the slurs she used towards the trans and intersex communities were needed for her character development. 

Other than the just okay plot I feel like I should include that I wasn't really a fan of the ending, it was okay and fairly predictable but I was also kind of just like COME ON, WHY. See Marlon's spoilers above to understand my overly italicized feelings. 

All in all, I really loved the book, and although I feel like a little more could've been with the plot (mostly the ending) and that more intersectional diversity could have been included, the brilliance of the book is in the writing. 

- Amrutha 

Do you think chromosomes, or people themselves, are more important in determining love?

Let us know in the comments!

Review: The Darkest Part of the Forest - Holly Black

The Darkest Part of the Forest
Holly Black
Series: N/A
Genre: Fantasy, Young Adult, Fantasy> Paranormal, Fairies
Rating: 4.5 out of 5 stars
Word Rating: Delicious
Goodreads | Amazon | Book Depository

I received this novel in ARC form at BEA 2014, and my bones have been aching in anticipation to read this (I didn't want to read too far away from the release date.) And it was well spent, because The Darkest Part of the Forest is drop-dead stunning.

If you don't trust me, the first seven chapters of the book have been digitally released free here on Amazon. The Darkest Part of the Forest follows the quest for meaning of siblings Hazel and Ben, the first headstrong but haunted, the second gifted and cursed. Their world is the town of Fairfold, where the Fae screw with tourists and the townsfolk are meant to keep quiet and stay out of the forest.

If you do trust me, here's why. With interesting, relateable characters, a charming and casually horrific setting, and a plot that keeps twisting even in the short 300~ pages, it seems like just another Holly Black novel and therefore, why the hell are you reading this just go buy it, right?

But it's not. In this novel, Black masterfully combines two aspects of Fantasy literature that have been slowly drifting apart, every so often knocking against each other: the Fairy Tale and the Realistic Fantasy. The clever, morally-drenched, and often short tales with loads of suspension of disbelief and quite one dimensional characters, molded with the more contemporary tales that stretch on and chart character development. She has done this before, of course, in a slightly more compact and different manner: The Modern Faerie Tales series sets twists on the old ideas, like many of Black's books. However, in The Darkest Part of the Forest, the Fairy Tale aspect is not re-crafted to fit within a Realistic Fiction setting, it is brought to its logical conclusion and intermingles with the Realistic Fiction world around it.

That might be very confusing, so let me offer an example. Throughout the book, Hazel and Ben, the main characters, often are seen in flashbacks that tell the increasingly interesting story of their childhood. When they were younger, they wanted to be a knight and a bard and hunt the Fairy monsters in the forest. In addition, there was a fairy prince in a glass coffin that was beautiful but could never be free and a monster in the heart of the forest made of bark and bone that would eat you if you got too close. These tales are told in a very succinct, clipped, and somewhat magical tone; the past seems to have this Fairy Tale aspect, while the rest of the novel is gifted Black's usual comedic and realistic wordplay. But as I said, the Fairy Tale is often used as structure to speak of the Real: "[The boy in the glass coffin] never ever woke up. He didn't wake up during the long summers, when . . . didn't so much as stir when Ben's friend . . . wrote IN CASE OF EMERGENCY, BREAK GLASS . . . or when Lloyd Lindblad took a sledgehamer and actually tried. (pg 1-2, Black, ARC)" In this instance, Black uses the boy to tell a short history of the people around him.

But that's not the only reason to read the book, of course. Out of this wonderful fusion world, we have such fantastic characters. The first of which is Hazel Evans. She starts the novel with kissing boys because "they were cute, because she was a little drunk, because she was bored . . . because it was lonely . . ." and seems to be haunted by something that happened in the past. Later on we learn she wanted and secretly still wants to become a Knight. She's unsatisfied with her life in Fairfold and she's a hell of a loner. I love Hazel: she's fearful but at the same time unnervingly brave. She keeps the heart of the Fairy Tale stories alive in her will to never back down and her ability to always get into the worst situations. And she's hilarious, and witty, and broken and flawed and she grows, man does she grow and it's fantastic. I recommend Hazel.

Her brother Ben has a gift for music but a broken hand. Mysterious, kind, loving, caring, and so very luxuriously gay Ben. It's hard to find queer characters that are at all realistic, but I enjoyed Ben immensely. There is no over-the-top reveal, there is no stereotyping, there is no overcompensation, Ben is just a person, and as part of being a person he likes men. Which is indicative of a much greater capacity for representation in Black's literature, but we know of that. Like Hazel, he gets into quite crappy situations: "'So how was your date?' she asked him. . . . 'We went back to his apartment and his ex was there. As in, his ex still lived there.'" (pg 23, ARC). The characters are all very real and charmingly, awkwardly teenager. If you removed the Faeries, it would be a pretty good contemporary YA book.

Other than those two, there is a myriad of wonderful side characters, like the romantic interests. The first of which is the boy in the glass coffin. The second of which is a changeling, whose adopted mother 'stole' him from his Fairy mother because she deemed him unfit. So two Fairy boys, what could go wrong? Well of course, the plot could totally send Hazel into the pits of the Forest and nearly kill Ben a hundred times, and actually kill members of the town.

All in all, a fantastic book.

- Marlon

What were your favorite fairy tales growing up?
Let us know in the comments!

ARC Review: Afterworlds - Scott Westerfeld

Afterworlds
Scott Westerfeld
Series: N/A
Genre: Young Adult, Fantasy
Release Date: September 23rd, 2014
Rating: 4.5 out of 5 Stars
Word Rating: Well.
Goodreads | Amazon | Book Depository

I'll spare you the primal, guttural affections I have for Midnighters, Leviathan, and Westerfeld's other works. Suffice it to say that he's a significant part of my introduction into YA. I'll spare you how much I loved meeting him at BEA, where I got a copy of this book.

Let's get to it, then.

Afterworlds is a pair of books that are laced together into one. The first follows, Darcy, a lucky writer learning the ins and outs of the publishing industry and of being independent. She's written a novel called Afterworlds about Lizzie, a girl who's also growing up, but in a different world, full of death and alienation. While these worlds are wildly different at first, they begin to reflect and respond to each other as the protagonists realize the truth behind their worlds and themselves.

As is obvious from the reviews that have already piled up behind this book, this one's pretty contentious. From the layman reader to the average YA lover to those nitpicking literary critics, those who’ve read Afterworlds seem either to love or hate it, for some combination of several reasons. (For a description/analysis of these reasons, scroll down to Noor's review). For a full-on, guns-ablazing break down of the major and minor "pitfalls" that other reviewers often cite, head over to this review.

Anyhow, enough of that.

I love love love love love this book.

The greatest thing about Westerfeld, I think, is his flexibility and the depth of his literary understanding. Take an honest once-over at Uglies versus Leviathan versus Afterworlds. Have they anything conceptually in common? Barely scraps — they may well have been penned by entirely different authors, yet all of them have been well-received. This aspect of his writing makes itself quite clear in this novel, where one novel had to seem entirely realistic and the other had to seem as if it were penned by a debut author, and Westerfeld definitely succeedes.

For example, Westerfeld's wit, his humor, and his gorgeous language is portrayed in two very different ways. One is highly polished - the language in Darcy's world is totally realistic. I've seen a lot of reviews point out that that people don't really speak in the profane manner that the characters do in Darcy's world, and to those people I say - have you ever talked to anyone . . . ever? Even novelists, who some reviewers seem to hold on this pedestal where they can only speak in the intelligent cadence of veteran lit-crits, are human and speak with a societal tongue. Then there's Lizzie's world, where really florid language is perfect and having a guy kiss you while you're in the throes of trauma is totally cool. I think such a contrast is so hard to do unless you're just really freaking good at writing, because you have to understand what naive writing is and what polished writing is and be able to write both. Westerfeld's is a dizzying kind of genius.

I loved watching Darcy plummet down the rabbit hole, through her first real relationship, through her re-writes, through her education on the publishing world - it's amazing watching something unfold when you're so interested in it. In addition, Lizzie's story, while falling rather flat (which is exactly what it’s supposed to do) content-wise, serves to showcase Darcy's growth and what she considers growth versus what she had initially envisioned in Lizzie's growth.

Unlike most people, I took to Lizzie's world, because it's so good sometimes, and sometimes so bad. For example, when Lizzie first wakes up in the afterworld, after having watched hundreds of people die and almost die herself, she is in a mist and believes she might be in heaven, which is a fascinating insight into the character . . . and then a few lines later she thinks to kiss the hot death lord she meets. This instance is an exaggeration, of course, of YA romance trends, and Westerfeld employs this unrealistic storytelling quite well. What’s even better is watching Darcy struggle with the problems in Lizzie’s emulating the struggle most writers have - between tropes and trends and individuality, for example.

I think readers often get caught up in the image of an author being totally solitary and working in the dark until finally - aha! - they've finished a piece of work. Westerfeld shows us, through Darcy, that most authors must be dreadfully aware of the current literary trends, everyone's viewpoints, his/her own voice, and a billion other anxiety-inducing things. As an experienced writer, Westerfeld masterfully gives us first a world that examines the pitfalls of an industry and an art form that Westerfeld has been part of for many years. He is highly critical, revealing the condescension of some writers in Darcy's world - they call Darcy's work "better than the average YA" for example -along with the many pitfalls of Lizzie's story.

I did have a few problems with the book, but they were mostly personal and did not really change my literary appreciation. These problems include wanting less Lizzie because I was more interested in Darcy's story but also finding Darcy rather unrelatable. I like Darcy's character, don't get me wrong. Westerfeld paints a very natural picture of a young aspiring artist: Darcy's anxiety manifests itself constantly - there must be a thousand references to that "fluke" she wrote "last November"; her sexuality is not a platform or a stage, but rather it is just a part of her, just a fact, the same way her brown skin and her not-so-Indian culture are just facts about her. (I've seen so many people complain that Darcy is just "too white" despite being Indian. These people completely miss the point that "white" does not mean "American" or "western" and that Westerfeld satirizes this problem by having Darcy get away with cultural appropriation even though she's Indian. Damn . . . it's hard to stay away from the contentious parts of this book.). Anyway, I love Darcy, but because I desire to be a successful published writer, I am jealous of Darcy's problems and I tend to trivialize them. For example, when she complains about not being able to eat out every night, all I can think of is that she lives in a $3000/month apartment in NY and has picked up a $300000 contract on a book she still thinks she fluked. I definitely understand the need to make Darcy special - it's hard for most readers to read about "normal" characters. At least, that's what I'm told. In any case, I found myself only really caring when Darcy was in deep ish.

So buy the book! Or mug someone with a copy? Either way, enjoy!

- Marlon

Noor's Afterworlds Review
Rating:  4.5 out of 5 stars
Word Rating: Can you spell meta?

I love Scott Westerfeld. A lot. I have loved him a lot for a long time and he was one of the first YA authors I read. We go way back. So when I had the chance to get a signed ARC of this book at BEA and meet him, I was ecstatic and wanted to read the book the second I got it. Of course, I also got a buttload of other books so I didn't read it until now. So after a few months of anticipation, I am so happy to say Afterworlds was definitely worth the wait. 

I think the book is hit-or-miss and you either love it or you hate it. I clearly fall into the love category but those that fall into the latter are either those who don't like ghosts/paranormal things, or those who didn't fully understand how meta the book was. 

Seriously, it was like meta on top of meta with a layer of meta icing. Which I loved, of course. The book contained two stories, each told in alternating chapters. The first was about Darcy Patel, Indian-American high school student who wrote a novel during NaNoWriMo and is now getting it published and moving to New York. The other story is the book she wrote, titled Afterworlds, and about a girl, Lizzie, who falls in love with the Hindu god of death. Now, I read some other reviews of the book and a lot of people are commenting on how they didn't think the story with Lizzie was all that great and that it fell short and was too typical paranormal, with all the tropes and cliches that made them drop stars like flies. Except, in my opinion, the whole point is for the story to be just that. This is supposed to be Darcy's first novel, one she wrote in a month, no less, and not even the final published version, but the first draft. She's also an 18 year old girl, and I'm not saying that 18 year old girls are inherently cliche writers, because I don't believe that at all (I mean, I am an 18 year old girl and I have seen many who are phenomenal writers). I am just saying that the whole point of the book is that this is the book Darcy Patel wrote, not a book Scott Westerfeld wrote. The first time she meets the death god, Yamaraj, he kisses Lizzie. She spends her whole interaction with him focusing on his looks and his slight accent and his hair. For her, it is insta-love -- well, closer to insta-attraction, but you get the gist. And that's the whole point, or at least the point that I saw. It's supposed to be flawed and Lizzie is supposed to be a little annoying and not fleshed out enough and basically the story is supposed to be a very typical YA paranormal romance, even though all throughout the beginning we see it marketed as better than average and so atypical because woo death god and culture. I mean, just look at who's doing that marketing: her agent, the one who gets paid to make her book sell and say things about it that might not necessarily be accurate. I think the people who didn't like the Afterworlds novel part of the story saw it as a separate entity that Scott Westerfeld used his own ideas and writing skills to write, rather than as something he wrote through the lens of this young, naive protagonist. See what I mean about meta?

The stuff about it being trope-y and cliche being said, I actually liked that half of the book a lot. I thought it was a cute story and I loved seeing the way it intertwined with Darcy's own life and how she'd mention things about writing it or certain scenes and aspects in the real world and then we'd get to see how it played out in the story. It was really cool seeing the author of the book go through the whole process with the book, and made me appreciate the story a lot more, especially the little things I wouldn't have known without Darcy's part to accent it. It made me wonder how often, when I'm reading, certain phrases or passages are essentially an inside joke the author made with him/herself. But going back to the point about the story, I thought it was enjoyable and entertaining and something I wanted to read, not something I made myself get through.

And then we have Darcy's story, which revolves around her time in New York and how getting a book published is not as east as mailing them a manuscript and then having the rest done for you. Of course, she does have a lot of fun in New York, but it's also a lot of work, and she often makes bad decisions or messes up. A lot of people think the way the whole publishing aspect and industry are shown is too far-fetched, but as an 18-year old girl who has not published anything reading a book by a successful author who has published many books (a lot more than zero), I think Scott Westerfeld is a lot more qualified to write about the publishing industry than I am to comment on it. I honestly really liked that it was a little over-the-top, because who wants to read about sitting at a desk and editing the same paragraph for an hour and then emailing a bunch of people and then more emailing and yay, paperwork (Is that what it's really like? That doesn't seem like it'd be too off base). If you can read a series about a wizarding school or a book about a girl narrating from heaven and utilize enough suspension of disbelief to go along with whatever is happening in the story, you can get over the fact that Darcy went to a bunch of parties and met a few eccentric people while getting her book published. 

Not only do I love how self-aware this book is, but also how Scott Westerfeld uses his narrative to point out a lot of things problematic with authors and media in general. For example, even though Darcy is Indian, she grew up as an average American teenager, and refers to Hinduism as "her parent's religion." In her novel, she takes some of the mythology from the Scriptures and then alters it to fit her plot. She even changes some of the fundamental aspects of Yamaraj himself. At one point, she's called out on altering a religious text for "purposes of YA hotness." She feels uneasy about this and the person she's talking to points out that it's okay because she's Indian and it's her own text she's altering. The reader is meant to understand that this is a flimsy excuse and to consider Darcy's identity and question whether or not the idea really is problematic or not. She also comments on how Yamaraj is centuries old and wonders if it's weird, to which a fellow author tells her that it's all fine as long as he looks like a teenager. This is something commonly seen in YA books that Westerfeld pokes fun at and that I really liked. There's also the fact that Darcy explains how she made Lizzie white so anyone reading could fill themselves in her shoes and that it wouldn't be her fantasy (her as in Darcy) but that it could be anyone's. I just really enjoyed all the sly commentary Westerfeld provided in just these scene of dialogue and interacting with other authors. Westerfeld himself, by publishing this book, is releasing a book with a nonwhite, nonheterosexual protagonist which is pretty cool and rad. 

So, to recap: Scott Westerfeld writes beautifully, his book is hella fab, and it's so meta that it hurts a little. Read it, please. It'll rock your socks. 

                                                                                                   -Noor

What's your favorite paranormal being to read about?
Let us know in the comments!

Review: The Shock of the Fall - Nathan Filer

The Shock of the Fall
Nathan Filer
Series: N/A
Genre: Contemporary, Mental Illness, Adult
Rating: 4.5 out of 5 stars
Word Rating: A+++
On Goodreads

Wow. I picked this up to read casually on a trip from Edinburg to London and I completely forgot where I was going because I read and thought about the book for those eight hours.

The blurbs are a bit gushy and a bit much, but this novel definitely is remarkable.

Obviously, the most powerful thing about it is the realism that Filer employs. In much the same sense that Mark Haddon employed a very realistic depiction of Christopher in The Curious Incident, Filer presents Matt with utter sincerity. His understanding as a mental health nurse is readily apparent with his straightforward representation of not only the patients but the staff and the institution as well. Both have their ups and downs and the struggle is not tamped down. Filer doesn't seem to have any agenda other than capturing the essence of the system. I didn't feel pushed to over-sympathize with the sometimes indecent practices against the patients, for example. There is a strong sense of the shackling that patients have on them . . . confined to a place because they cannot function in society, doomed to take pills with a hundred side effects, some for the side effects themselves and they can't do anything, about it. Matt admits "I don't hate these people. I just have not having the choice to get rid of them." and that about sums it up.

The way that Filer approaches his themes on death and mental health also begin to linger and they feel sincere and poignant coming from Matt. (Thankfully, there is a good sprinkling of humor to keep you off your feet.) Furthermore, there are small things that add to this picture Filer paints. Simple drawings along with an array of fonts add to the feeling that the text is inside Matt's mind and the reader is experiencing the world as he would. It's terribly confusing with letters and rambles and diary pages thrown in all at once until you realize it should be there. In addition, the story itself isn't always straightforward. Matt reflects a lot and gets lost in his train of thoughts quite often.

But holy Poseidon. The writing. Filer could write about drying walls and he'd probably find a thousand interesting and heart wrenching things to say. Go to the Quotes section of the Goodreads for a glimpse of what I'm talking about.

I can't pick a favorite but it's so varied. You can have "Hello, my name is your potential. But you can call me impossible." or "If it rains outside, or if you stab a classmate's shoulder with a compass needle . . . that is weather." or "The girl with the red hair . . . is called Annabelle. Try and remember that if you can. Hold on to it . . . keep it safe somewhere." A lot of it is poignant only in context so I urge you dearly to read this book it is very very good in terms of writing.

Because of such unique wording and musings, Matt's character comes to life on the page, which is something very minor but very important. The characters are so vivid, I constantly wondered about the origins of the story itself. Matt being haunted by his dead brother constantly, for example, and Filer does so well to place you in Matt's head that the feeling is absolutely painful. One bit that always gets me is this: "It is dark, night time, there is mud in my mouth, in my eyes, and the rain keeps falling. I am trying to carry him, but the ground is wet. I lift him and fall, lift him and fall, and he is silent. . . . Please. Please. Talk to me." And "He could speak through and itch, the certainty of a sneeze, the after-taste of tablets, or the way sugar fell from a spoon." Gosh it hurts.

My main concern, I suppose, is the common one The 'mystery' really is implied quite early on in the novel and though the big reveal takes place two hundred and fifty something pages in, you'll probably have figured it out. And it really didn't bother me much, considering I felt, at the very least, it allowed the novel and Matt's life to have a more linear passage. Furthermore, there is a similar case in The Curious Incident, and the same thought came to me: it's probably meant to be this way. I find it hard to believe Filer, whose writing otherwise is perfectly sharpened, would have botched up the underlying 'mystery' if he intended it to truly be a mystery. But thinking about it made me consider a few other predictable things in the novel. A small thing for this kind of work but it's a fair warning.

- Marlon

So . . . trust doctors? Dentists?

Let us know in the comments!

Review: The Only Boy - Jordan Locke

The Only Boy
Jordan Locke
Series: N/A
Genre: Young Adult, Science Fiction, Dystopian
Rating: 4.5 out of 5 stars
Word Rating: A
On Goodreads

I received this book for the exchange of an honest review.

I was pretty excited for this book for several reasons, especially just glancing at the reviews on Goodreads and the rating, which I usually don't do, but I wanted to check it out. 

And I was struck by the premise, a dystopian novel where there are no boys? Wait! Could this mean that finally someone in this genre chose to appropriate material on gender and sex association? Did they write about that? Is that even possible? Short answer, I was a bit naive, and foolish, and Locke doesn't spend a terrible amount of time on the topic.

But The Only Boy reasserted itself quite nicely. What I love about Locke's writing is that it is utterly straightforward and so easy to read, which neatly fits in with fluid narrative construction. She begins with a sober description from Mary's eyes:

"I picture the city streets filled with people . . . I imagine both women and men, girls and boys, even though I’ve never actually seen a boy." (1)

What is so crucial here that is often missed by Sci Fi/Dystopian authors is need for an instant connection. Rather than an infodump on how the alternate world is, one needs a vantage point and pathway into this world. Locke definitely allows us this connection and I stayed curious with Mary's observations and feelings (and Taylor's) right up to the end of the book. It was just good friggin narrative. Streamlined, punctual, flexible. Wonderful for implementing tension between characters and concepts and suspension between plot points. AND THERE IS A HELL OF A LOT OF SUSPENSION GOING ON HERE, PEOPLE. (Of course there is the Lauren Oliver style of 600 pages of poetry, but that's good in its own respect).

If I do have one gripe (and I've noticed this among other reviewers so I'm not crazy), it's that though this narrative is good, it is sometimes hard to figure out who is narrating. Taylor, in the beginning, has very similar concerns to Mary and sometimes I'd have to turn back a few pages to figure out who was supposed to be narrating. It's not major, and it only happened a few times, but I would have liked to see more variety in narration.

There are striking themes throughout the book, which caught my attention and kept me hanging on as much as the suspension. Not-a-spoiler-alert, chapter 46 opens with a back and forth with Taylor and Wren, where after Taylor notes the gender equality before the cleansing, and how Wren could have been "anything [she] wanted", she still chooses to say "Nah. Let him go out and work. I'd rather stay home." (Locke, 182-3)

The characters, however, are pretty fantastic. Most of the secondary characters, like Wren, provide a backdrop for the story. Rather than being important themselves, they are machinations of the dystopia and represent something or other thematically, like Wren with the gender association. This is not necessarily a bad thing, since this is a very focused noveTaylor's anxiety about his position in the Matriarchy and whether to stay with Mary or run is quite impressively connective. I really felt horribly sorry for someone stuck in such a situation. 

Mary can be a bit quiet, but her curiosity wins me over. She is, even from the onset, always imagining things the way they might have been or will or could be and it's quite inventive, yet realistic, for a girl stuck in such a restricted place.

The ending was absolutely out of this world. Short, and so, so bittersweet. Warning, this book will leave you forever with questions. G-DAMNIT "STAY WITH ME" UGH. SUCH. YES. UGH. I'm trying to remain professional.

There are just so many positives to note it would take forever, and I think I've bored and worn down anyone at this point into either hating me or loving this book. So go! Read it! 

- Marlon

So . . . if you were the last guy on earth . . . (had to say it.) Anyway, would the world be better without men? Or women (perhaps a less viable option)? Do any of you even believe in gender associations?

Let us know in the comments!

Book Tour Review: The Polaris Uprising - Jennifer Ibarra

The Polaris Uprising
Jennifer Ibarra
Series: Polaris, #1
Genre: Young Adult, Dystopian
Rating: 4.5 out of 5 stars
Word Rating: adfsasdf
On Goodreads

About the book:

In less than seven years, eighteen-year-old Ryla Jensen will succeed her father as the president of Neress, a nation where all citizens are cared for from the moment they’re born. Fed, sheltered, even educated—every need of theirs is met.

The only price they pay is their free will.

Groomed since childhood to take on a role she’s not even sure she wants, Ryla’s only escape from the pressures of duty is her sister, Alanna. But when her eyes are opened to the oppressive regime her father built, she begins to question everything she’s set to inherit—and finds herself at odds with her sister’s blind allegiance to their father.

Torn between loyalty to her family and the fight for freedom, Ryla must decide just how far she’s willing to go to make a stand and risk losing the person she loves most in the world: Alanna.

Review:

IT'S FROZEN. IT IS. SERIOUSLY. BUT GRUNGIER AND FOR YA. PRAISE POSEIDON. HALLELUJAH.

Ahem.

First of all. Conventional YA Love Culture is wrecked. Remember how we all thought Hans was the next Flynn? (If you haven't watched Frozen, I don't know what you're doing with your life.) Well, in the same respect, the usual love culture is built up and then Ibarra spends the rest of the novel demolishing it. No stupid stupid love triangle. Even though the novel is actually centered around having relationships chosen for you, and the sisters in question are the President's daughters. Lots of room for risque love situations that would appeal to the casual YA reader. However, Ibara takes the wonderful path of emphasizing and empowering the relationship between sisters Ryla and Alanna instead. The Polaris Uprising tells both their stories, side by side. If you took the time to read the description above, you'll notice that Ryla's love is drenched in her sister. Even when she becomes a bit friendly with Tyson, all she ever thinks about is her sister. It's awesome. I love it. I'm excited. Get excited, people.

And therein lies my second favorite part of this novel. The characterization and conflict between Alanna and Ryla is at once emotionally taxing and extremely wonderful. Though I dislike that Alanna simply rolls with it, I can see the intricacy of the social and psychological hold that she feels towards her father.

Most of the characterization is extremely fluid, exemplified by a bit of witty dialogue that reveals parts of Ryla:

"Ryla grinned and looked over at her father. 'I assure you my reputation is much exaggerated.'

'I'm sorry to hear that. He only had good things to say.'

'Well, in that case, it's all true.'"

Ryla isn't afraid of her father and in contrast to Alanna, has a much easier time speaking and joking in front of their father, even if it can be slightly restrained. She is portrayed to be brainwashed like her sister Ibarra wastes no time refuting that pretense. The Hunger Games-esque tension that resides in the subtle things that are not allowed and the history (you know, since the war everything is perfect) provide that stark contrast for Ryla. She should fit in with the crowd, she should not care about free will. But she seems to have inclinations otherwise and that's what allows the story to take off.

At other times, the novel is not as fluid . . . for example, it's a bit slow to pick up at the start. Once the information starts to seep through, and the twists start taking the story new places . . . you figure out how horrible and cruel this dystopia is and the novel begins to come together. Unfortunately, since there's so much to tell, there are a few passive passages where the scene is sacrificed for the sake of information. Which, to be fair, I didn't notice because it only bifurcates the transitory scenes. An early example is:

"Growing up, Alanna and Ryla had always been able to do as they pleased in that area . . . Even as a young girl, Alanna could always be counted on to be on her very best behavior. Ryla, on the other hand . . . "

This little snippet allows the scene to transition from the banquet thoughts and the President's office. It also follows a bit of dialogue that ends in Ryla's hesitance and mild annoyance at the upcoming banquet.

(I'm on such a good reading streak.)

Another thing about characters (sorry, am I a broken record? characters are so important in this novel damnit): even the secondary characters are influential. Ryla and Alanna may be in the spotlight but that doesn't make everyone else incidental. People live actual lives outside of Ryla's coming of age and Alanna's expositions.

I mean there were scenes but I don't want to spoil the well-constructed plot! I can just say that I was constantly holding my breath and refusing to trust anything. Even the wedding. And the suspects of the assassination. Nothing is real.

Also that cliffhanger. What the actual Hades. I didn't even know how to breathe after, or if I was allowed to breathe.

- Marlon

Purchase links:

Amazon | Barnes & Noble

About the author:

Jennifer Ibarra grew up on a steady diet of books, Star Wars, and other fantastic feats of the imagination. Her debut novel, The Polaris Uprising, is the first book in a trilogy and mixes dystopia with family drama, romance, and political intrigue.

She lives in Silicon Valley, where she does marketing for a tech company and spends her time running, cooking, baking, and keeping up with celebrity gossip.

Author links:

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Book Tour Review: Just Like a Musical - Milena Veen

Just Like a Musical
Milena Veen
Series: N/A
Genre: Young Adult, Contemporary, Romance
Rating: 4.5 out of 5 stars
Word Rating: Charming
On Goodreads | Amazon

About the book:

Seventeen-year-old Ruby Fields has always lived by the rules set up by her foolishly overprotective mother. As a result, she doesn't go to school, she's never been kissed, and almost everything she knows about life is what she has learned from old movies.

But now...now there's this Joshua guy. He's quirky, and he's tall, and he uses “romantic” and “old-fashioned” in the same sentence.

And there's Mrs. Wheeler, an eccentric retired Hollywood costume designer and Ruby's new best friend.

When Mrs. Wheeler ends up in hospital, just after telling Ruby her long-kept secret, Ruby decides to break her mother's rules and embark on a journey that will change her life forever.

Review:

Okay seriously just go buy this book right now. It's so so good. Have you ever been charmed by a book? That's what Milena Veen has done here. I was hooked from this:

" . . . her long, skinny arms keeping her straw hat from falling off her hat. I was instantly attracted to her. I know it sounds silly; she was just an old lady in a Charleton dress . . . "

Veen tricked me into thinking this book would start off with insta-love and the weather. And it did! Just, not the way that I would have guessed. And I think that summarizes the book quite well. It's not what you think and it's not really ever what you think it's going to be. After that point I was waiting for the twists and turns and I was not disappointed. Ruby and everyone around her are full of enough quirks to keep even the most ordinarily situations quite beautifully startling: there's Ruby and her movies, there's that neighbor who has old dresses belonging to movie stars (you know Ruby is going to love that!), the side of the overprotective mother that you sympathize with. Especially that last one. Usually an author will only hint at that side, fearing that it detracts from the story or the image that needs to be portrayed of that character. But holy hell Veen does an amazing job showing the exact pull and push relationship between a child and such a parent.

And that leads me to the characters. I love them. They're not two dimensional or unlikable. Ruby is relateable, a teenager with a powerful imagination being trapped and restricted. That's familiar. Joshua's Tourrette's making him socially impaired to a degree but, more importantly, not consuming the entirety of his character. Etc, etc, etc.

Leading off of that is the writing itself. It's charming, as I said, but it can also be a bit clunky. I wouldn't dwell too much on it because it is self published and hasn't gone through high-grade proofreading. Just be warned a couple of lines of dialogue will seem outlandish, but that's it for the most part. This issue is wholly drowned out by what I've written above and by the fact that the plot is quite brilliant. For a two hundred page novel, it doesn't waste any time in rushing along. As soon as I was getting into the story, it took off. There is a bit of suspense but don't count on it, the book seems to be written as an exploration rather than a pure adventure. Therefore, the social interactions that Ruby has post-runaway at once explore her growth as a sheltered child and further, explore parenting and how harmful it can be.

One of my favortie parts of this book is the overarching thread of humor. The stumbles and pains that adolescence brings, especially with someone as sheltered as Ruby, are spilled throughout the pages of this book, but each and everyone is industriously presented with humor. And that's difficult to do. Yet Veen just makes it seemless. I find it hard not to relate to a newer John Green novel.

And holy wit, by the end of the book, Ruby's mental development has blossomed enough to leave us with this gem:

"And then it came to me – a thought so clear that I was surprised I hadn't realized it before: freedom is not someplace outside you, hidden at the end of the winding road where magical things happen and where people all of a sudden become wise and fulfilled. You don't travel three thousand miles to find it. Freedom lies inside you. Like some delicate fruit . . . if you don't open your eyes . . . it will never get ripe."

Just go. Now. Read. Purchase. Do it.

- Marlon

About the author:

Milena Veen was born in Belgrade, Serbia. Her first piece of writing, a poem about a walking cherry, saw the light of the day when she was seven. She's been writing ever since.

Milena graduated from University of Belgrade with a degree in psychology. She lives in a little European town with her husband and a mute cat. When she's not writing, she spends her time reading, riding her bicycle, and listening to music. She prefers clouds to sunshine and coffee to tea.

Author links:

Blog | Goodreads | Twitter | Facebook | Pinterest

Giveaway:

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