books 2008

Of all the posts I make in a year, the one where I try to predict the Printz winner (I haven't been successful yet, though I did pick one honor book in 2008 and two in 2007) is always my favorite.

Standard disclaimer: These opinions are mine and mine alone. I have not consulted anyone on the Printz committee about this post. These opinions are completely separate of whatever may come of the BCCLS Mock Printz, which is coming up in a few days. Yes, I have been given copies of some of these books by their publishers and no, that has not had any influence on my thoughts.

How I'm predicting what will win: There seems to be a lot of confusion out there about what the Printz is for, and what kind of books receive it. Allow me to quote from the Printz Award's official website:

What is quality? We know what it is not. We hope the award will have a wide AUDIENCE among readers from 12 to 18 but POPULARITY is not the criterion for this award. Nor is MESSAGE. In accordance with the Library Bill of Rights, CONTROVERSY is not something to avoid. In fact, we want a book that readers will talk about.

Librarianship focuses on individuals, in all their diversity, and that focus is a fundamental value of the Young Adult Library Services Association and its members. Diversity is, thus, honored in the Association and in the collections and services that libraries provide to young adults.

Having established what the award is not, it is far harder to formulate what it is. As every reader knows, a great book can redefine what we mean by quality. Criteria change with time. Therefore, flexibility and an avoidance of the too-rigid are essential components of these criteria (some examples of too-rigid criteria: A realistic hope - well, what about Robert Cormier's Chocolate War or Brock Coles' The Facts Speak for Themselves? Avoiding complicated plot - what about Louis Sachar's Holes? Originality - what about all the mythic themes that are continually re-worked? We can all think of other great books that don't fit those criteria.)

What we are looking for, in short, is literary excellence.

In other words, no one cares what your teens love, or what made you cry, or if you think anyone is going to be reading this book in five years. It's all about the writing. Plot, characterization, voice, story development, etc.

Caveat: I'm only talking about books I've read. There are several books getting Printz buzz that I haven't finished, like Tender Morsels by Margo Lanagan. Also, since it's my blog, my predictions are and can only be limited to what I think makes for a book of literary excellence.

The book everyone thinks will take an honor, but I think otherwise: The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins. Look, no one loves this book more than I. I'm recommending it to anyone who will listen to me talk for more than three minutes. I am on pins and needles waiting for the sequel and I hope that by the time the last book is out it will be a sensation on par with Harry Potter. I don't, however, see it as one of the five most literarilly (I know that's not a word) excellent books this year.

The book no one thinks will take an honor, but I think otherwise: Pretty Monsters by Kelly Link. Blah blah short stories literary awards WHAT. EVER. Have you read this book? It's phenomenal, and I'm not just saying that because I'm a fan of short stories. Short stories are so difficult to write well, but Link has it down to a science. She uses just the right words at the right time to give her stories this very eerie quality, yet at the same time they're funny and thought-provoking. This ability to create so much feeling and such a clear yet alternative world in every story makes Link's writing literary.

The three-peat: Paper Towns by John Green. This is the first of Green's books that I feel really deserves the Printz or an honor. And although some have complained that Paper Towns revisits too much of what we saw in Green's previous two novels, I have to ask why we care about that. Past books and merits are not taken into consideration when deliberating the Printz. Every year there's a new committee, and every year there's a clean slate. All that aside, I loved the blend of quirky characters, action, and mysteries hidden in literature. Viva la nerd lit!

The ones that will honor because of language: The Astonishing Life of Octavian Nothing, Traitor to the Nation, Volume II: The Kingdom on the Waves by M.T. Anderson and The Knife of Never Letting Go by Patrick Ness. Both of these authors have done an outstanding job of using language and narration to build their characters' worlds, one historical and one dystopian. Anderson uses authentic Revolutionary War era language and Ness mixes the visual and auditory, but both are accomplishments of what language can do for both plot and characterization.

The one that will honor because of characterization: Nation by Terry Pratchett. Two teens marooned on an island after a tsunami must find a way to communicate and rebuild their land. As they do so, the island, the Nation, becomes a third character in the story. I'm only part of the way into this book right now (must finish by Friday!), but what's impressing me the most so far is how Pratchett keeps the reader interested in Mau, the boy who leaves his island to become a man, while Mau is alone for a good chunk of the novel. He's got no one to talk to, no other characters to conflict with initally, but the reader still wants to know what happens to him. Pratchett also excels at making Mau's voice distinct from his companion's, an English girl who decides to go by Daphne.

The silent killer: You Know Where to Find Me by Rachel Cohn. No one is talking about this book, but everyone should. I can only imagine the challenge of writing a depressed character who doesn't make the reader want to throw either the book or herself out a window, but Cohn does it. She does it with pathos and wit, too. As is her trademark, she writes about nontraditional families who stick together through terrible times. As is not her trademark, there is not much lighthearted or rompy about this book. There's the pain of a family member's suicide, drug use, and unrequited crushes, and it all makes you want to read more.

The one that stands out: The Disreputable History of Frankie Landau-Banks by E. Lockhart. Of all the books I've listed here it's probably the most popular, and it's the one that seems to mean the most things to the most people. To some it's about feminism. To some it's about power. As I've mentioned before, to me it's about belonging. The other thing I really like about it is that it's in third person. I don't know who passed out the memo that YA should really be in first person, but I wish he hadn't. Most first person really stinks. Now, given Lockhart's talents I believe this book could have been great in first person, but I'm so glad it's in third because
Lockhart was able to use it to impart a sort of wise, sarcastic voice to the narration of Frankie's actions. Point of view is used so well here, it should be recognized for this outstanding accomplishment alone.

The book that should win: Madapple by Christina Meldrum. Weird word choices, provocative plotlines, and a world full of insane characters. YA literature at its finest.

I've been meaning to review The Knife of Never Letting Go by Patrick Ness for some time but, well, you know how blogging gets.

Explanashun: Todd is just a month from his thirteenth birthday, the age where a boy becomes a man in his town. And in his town, that's all there are: Men. Not long after Todd's birth, a germ coursed through his town. It gave men the ability (or the curse) to hear each others' thoughts. All their thoughts. All the time. They refer to it as the Noise, and it's a curse. The Noise, which is visual as well as auditory, means that Todd cannot hide anything from anyone. This same germ that granted the Noise to the men killed all the town's women. Or that's the story Todd has always heard. Raised by two close friends of his mother's, Todd is looking forward to manhood and maybe receiving a real hunting knife as a gift until the day he comes home and is told by his fathers to leave. Todd knows his hometown might not always be the safest, most genteel place in the New World, but he cannot figure out why he's being sent away with no information and only his mother's diary to tell him anything about the deadly secrets the town's men are hiding from him. On his way out of town he meets Viola, who's not just a girl but the only girl that Todd has ever met. What's stranger than a girl to Todd? Silence. Which is exactly what he gets from Viola. Together, they run for a place they only know by name: Haven.

What it is and what it ain't: I made the mistake of trying to read almost all of this in one day. The pacing is terrific and Ness has a strong grasp of how to spread action across chapters, but there's simply a LOT of this book to take in. Besides the nonstop action and the time it takes to build and imagine this dystopian world, there are Bible references and science fiction elements and a fair number of characters to remember. The juxtaposition of Todd's Noise with Viola's silence, and the Noise that comes from animals and other people, is wonderfully described, colorful and shocking. Also, if you don't cry during the Here section (read the book and you'll know what I mean), I think you may be missing part of your soul. It ends almost as abruptly as The Fellowship of the Ring, with Todd and Viola standing on the precipice of a sequel some serious evil. It takes a little tenacity to get through the opening of this book because of the unusual voice, but once you're past page 40 or so you can hear it in your head. Which brings me to this point:

The Knife of Never Letting Go might not be one of my personal favorites of the year (though I do plan to read the sequel), but it is one of the strongest Printz contenders out there. I think it's easy to forget, when we read books with awards in mind, that we lose so much when we cannot hear the words on the page being spoken. The very auditory nature of Todd's entire existence is what defines his world, which is why I think this book would be even better in audio than in print. The reason Viola confounds Todd so much in the first place is because he cannot hear her thoughts. The book is designed pretty well around what Todd hears in the Noise versus his own thoughts; the reader is never going to get the two mixed up. I just wish I could hear the book in addition to seeing it.

Recently, the Daily Mail wrote about Knife and Anthony McGowan's The Knife That Killed Me (Does anyone own a copy of this they'd be willing to lend me? I'd love to read it): Children's books are so violent they need a health warning. Of course, those that labeled The Knife of Never Letting Go don't seem to have read it. Big surprise there, given that the Daily Mail is almost as quality a publication as the New York Post.. If they had, they'd see that yes, there is violence in the book, but a major theme of the book revolves around not being violent and how Todd has been protected by his fathers from doing what the villagers believe will truly make Todd a man. Ness responds here: On being branded a health hazard by the Daily Mail.

Patrick Ness || review at Strange Horizons || review at Wands and Worlds

Here's something that sets me apart from most readers: I love short stories. I know they're not as popular as novels, but I don't care. I am in awe of those able to create great short stories, where you have to build the world and tell the story in so little space. You can imagine, then, how excited I was to read Love is Hell by Justine Larbalestier, Melissa Marr, Laurie Faria Stolarz, Scott Westerfeld, and Gabrielle Zevin (many thanks to Farrin Jacobs at Harper for sending the copy). It's five absorbing supernatural twists on love and love ripped apart, with not a weak story in the bunch. From beginning to end:

Sleeping with the Spirit by Laurie Faria Stolarz. Brenda isn't sleeping so well in her new house. She keeps waking up exhausted with bruises on her body. As her dreams become clearer, she learns that the bruises are coming from Travis, the ghost of a teenage boy who was murdered in her house seventeen years ago. Travis can only contact Brenda through her dreams, so he enlists her help in tying up some loose ends related to his death.

Stupid Perfect World by Scott Westerfeld. It's very The Giver meets Feed. As part of a class experiment in a future society, students must live with a condition that has troubled their ancestors. For example, the hot girl Kieran likes decides to give herself a cold. Kieran himself decides that instead of letting his bioframe run the programs that allow him to function 24/7, he's going to go Shakespearean and learn to sleep, perchance to dream. Maria decides to allow her teenage hormones to run rampant. Drama, both Shakespearean and high-school-hallway, ensues when Kieran and Maria find their emotions bringing them together.

Thinner Than Water by Justine Larbalestier is a dark faerie tale set in an historic tourist village. In Jeannie's small village, teenagers can become handfasted, a trial one-year love and living arrangement between couples. Jeannie would rather escape her village, move to the city, and become a doctor, something her parents are very much opposed to. The one bright spot in Jeannie's village life is Robbie. A handfasting ceremony joins the two, and the village's small-minded people tear them apart. Temporarily.

Fan Fictions by Gabrielle Zevin is, I confess, my favorite story in the book, probably due to my wanting to live in the books I read as a child. Paige is the girl that no one except the new librarian at school really notices. The day the librarian recommends a book called The Immortals, Paige meets the new mysterious boy in school. Aaron and Paige's romance grows until the day Paige hears the school book club talking about The Immortals. If they're just discussing the book, why are they quoting and describing Aaron?

Love Struck by Melissa Marr. The convoluted, complicated romance between Alana, who refuses to have relationships longer than six weeks, and Murrin, a selchie, is made even more confusing when Murrin's brother tries to interfere. When Alana steals and hides Murrin's seal skin, he cannot leave her. Not that he wanted to leave in the first place.

Despite their quick pace and the fact that half the battle of reading SF or fantasy short stories is getting into the world in the first place, I was completely absorbed by these stories. I found that the three stories in the middle, in particular (Westerfeld, Larbalestier, Zevin), were really economical with their language and made intelligent use of the short space. I confess I've never been a fan of True Love Forever stories, nor of stories about the Perfect Love between Two Perfect People (I'll have to write another entry on how I was born without the romance gene someday). These stories totally satisfied the part of me that loves to see stories about the heart without making me gag on how physically perfect and emotionally unobtainable the main characters were. The stories are dark, serious, and often gut-wrenching. That's a compliment.

Other books in the "...Hell" series:

• Prom Nights from Hell by Meg Cabot, Michelle Jaffe, Lauren Harrison, Stephenie Meyer, and Lauren Myracle (April 2007)


• Vacations from Hell by Libba Bray, Cassandra Clare, Claudia Gray, Maureen Johnson, and Sarah Mlynowski (June 2009)

Count me as one of the legions of YA librarians who'd never heard of The Spectacular Now by Tim Tharp until it was nominated for the National Book Award. Wow, my little cave was a sad, sad place.

The plot: The plot is kind of boring, really, but that's okay because this is one of those snapshots-of-life books rather than a book involving adventures. As I've said before, I am always up for cerebral books with male main characters. In the last months of garrulous Sutter Keely's high school career, he's determined to...well, he's not determined to do a whole lot except for maybe reconciling with his ex-girlfriend, Cassidy. A no-holds-barred alcoholic (though never once does the word appear in the book), Sutter spends his days cutting his 7Up with whiskey, nearly failing algebra, and thinking about girls. A bender one weekend turns out to be serendipitous, as it lands him on the lawn of Aimee Finecky. Aimee's not really Sutter's type of girl. She's shy and geeky and not very outspoken. She's also good at math, a fact Sutter uses to get to spend more time with her. As time passes, Sutter grows further away from his best friend (who went and got himself a girlfriend) and closer to Aimee, even though he's convinced himself that she's not really the type of girl he could fall for. Aimee and Sutter are both good and bad for each other, and the best and worst parts of both their personalities come to a head at the prom, when Aimee asks Sutter to do the thing he is most afraid of: make a commitment to her.

Why you'll love it: This is one of those books that doesn't really hit you until after you've closed the cover and maybe gone to check your email, fed the cats, and picked it up again. Then you realize that Tharp has created one of the most fully human characters you've seen in a long time. Sutter's kindness is as strong as his cruelty. He acts nonchalant, like living in the now is the best thing ever, but as you read on you realize he harbors some great fears and insecurities about his family and friends. At heart, Sutter is not a bad guy. It's not like in Chris Lynch's Inexcusable where Keir has to keep telling the reader he's a "nice guy" when it's blatantly obvious he's not. Sutter is deeply misguided, yes, and lives only for the now, but you read the book and think that in the end, there's hope that he'll give his life some direction. You want it for him. Sutter shows the reader that the smart kids don't all grow up to go to perfect colleges, or even want to. And despite the vast amounts of liquor, Tharp doesn't waste the reader's time on lecturing about the bad bad, one-drink-and-you'll-die side effects of drinking that have plagues YA novels of the past. Instead, he shows how liquor affects Sutter's thoughts and actions and leaves the reader to conclude whether or not alcohol consumption is a problem for Sutter.

When I next update my "great guy reads" list, this is so going on it.

A 2008 book I loved to death but didn't write about here (because I ended up writing about it elsewhere) was Getting the Girl: A Guide to Private Investigation, Surveillance, and Cookery by Susan Juby. In short, it's about a boy (a nice boy! score one for more nice guys in YA literature!) named Sherman. Sherman is kind of a geek, but he's a good-hearted geek, and he's got a crush on a girl named Dina. He's worried that Dina is about to become a victim of D-listing, in which a girl's picture appears on the guy's bathroom wall with a letter "D" inscribed in the corner. Girls who are D-listed drop into nonexistence almost instantly. Not wanting this to happen, Sherman takes it upon himself to investigate who's behind the D-listings, an act that wins him both respect and hatred.

In her MySpace blog today, Susan Juby (who is made of awesome, btw) talks about the challenges and realities of writing good dialogue. Since the quality of dialogue is always a huge factor in whether or not I think a book is any good, I read what she had to say with interest. See her entry here: What's that you said?

It's the time of year when all the "Best Books of 2008" articles/blog posts come out. While I definitely see the merit of putting lists like that together and even helped contribute to one in a major journal, on this blog I am one reviewer, one librarian, with one opinion. And since I subscribe to the "to every reader his or her book" school of thought, I think in this case it's more appropriate to talk about the books I liked the best. Also, I have not read anywhere near the number of books I want to read. There simply isn't the time, between the BCCLS Mock Printz, PPYA, and my reviewing gigs. With that, on to my ten personal favorites of the year, alpha by author.

• Chains by Laurie Halse Anderson, for taking me back in time and teaching me things I didn't know I wanted to know.


• Audrey, Wait! by Robin Benway, for laughs, heartbreak, and slight music geekery.


• You Know Where to Find Me by Rachel Cohn, for showing that "just get over it" is always easier said than done.


• The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins, for making me hold my breath.


• Diary of a Chav by Grace Dent, for showing class, even though there wasn't supposed to be any.


• The Graveyard Book by Neil Gaiman, even though cats consider themselves superior to all people, living or dead.


• Paper Towns by John Green, because no one forgets their first love.


• Pretty Monsters by Kelly Link, for showing how cool short story collections are, were, and ever will be


• Madapple by Christina Meldrum, for bending everything that a YA novel can be


• Impossible by Nancy Werlin, from a fellow believer that girls can and do want the good boy over the bad boy.

I read many, many more very enjoyable books. 2008 has been a great year for YA. These, however, are the ten that have really stuck with me for whatever reason. Some were total page-turners and others I had to put down for a while and continue later. But I'll remember and recommend all of them.

I'd better post this list before I change my mind.

I don't like historical fiction. No, really. My performance in history classes throughout school can best be described as "mediocre," and that's being generous. I never found history terribly interesting and perhaps as a result, I don't read much historical fiction.

Part of the frustration with reading historical fiction, being someone who's not any good with history, is that you're never quite sure how much history the author is playing with, how many events actually occurred and how many she's making up. Over time, though, any reader learns that there are certain authors you can always trust to get history right, and there are certain authors who even on their worst day will turn out something fairly good. Laurie Halse Anderson is both of these. I confess I'm late to the party for reading her latest book, Chains (copy courtesy of the lovely people at Simon & Schuster), but let me tell you, this party is still going strong.

Chains is narrated by Isabel, a slave girl whose mother has recently died. She is alone in the world with her sister, Ruth, an epileptic. Her mistress in Rhode Island has also died, leaving her and Ruth to be sold to a couple from New York City. The Locktons may not be the worst masters around, but they are far from the best. The man, Elihu, is a Loyalist who is in on a few plots to keep America a part of England. His wife, who insists on being called Madam, has little regard for the lives of those she deems beneath her. Isabel works long, hard days, but she is not alone. In her trips to a local water pump she meets a boy, a rebel who asks her to get involved on spying on her masters. Isabel knows the danger of being caught as a spy, but she finds she has a talent for it. Able to read, write, and speak well, Isabel understands much more of her masters than they want her to. Isabel's knowledge of the Revolution expands every day, and her loyalties change accordingly. Whether she's supporting the British or the Americans, she knows one thing: She is her own person and must figure out a way to become free.

I think one of the dangers in writing any book that doesn't take place in the contemporary world is that it's easy to get bogged down in the details of worldbuilding. The writer must not only create a place completely (or at least partially) foreign to the contemporary reader and convince the reader to stay there. J.K. Rowling was particularly good at this, revealing small details about her world through conversation and everyday events. 1776 New York in Chains, thankfully for history morons like me, is also constructed in this fashion. There is no point where the author breaks in to have the narrator marvel on the great wonders of the city. We see what Revolutionary War New York looked like through Isabel's simple yet vivid descriptions of everyday life. Isabel herself is neither maudlin nor emotionally detached from both the good and the bad things that happen to her. She's a heroine who doesn't see herself as heroic; she only does what she believes is right. I know I learned a lot about New York's history from Chains (not being a native of New Jersey, I'm not so up with the regional history), but I only felt like I was reading a fascinating story narrated by a well-spoken, well-balanced, thoughtful, loving, and strong main character.

What's the only thing wrong with this book? I have to wait for a sequel!!!

Chains is currently shortlisted for the National Book Award for Young People's Literature.

Laurie Halse Anderson's website || review at The Reading Zone || review by Abby (the) Librarian || review at Librarian by Day

I know that when Don McLean sang about "the day the music died," he was referring to the plane crash that killed Buddy Holly, Richie Valens, and the Big Bopper. Say that phrase to me, however, and I think of my mom picking me up from school on April 5 8th (I did remember correctly, please see the comments), 1994, and telling me that Kurt Cobain had committed suicide. Because this day stands out for me so much, and because I am a Nirvana fan like all good Gen-Xers, I was so excited to read the beautiful, tangible Cobain Unseen by Charles R. Cross. Thank you to the publicity department at Little, Brown for sending the review copy.

I know I'm supposed to read and follow the pictures along with the text, but I confess to flipping around and playing with all the pullout elements because the visual elements are so enticing and I'm a person who learns best by touching. The book includes replicas of all kinds of previously uncollected Cobain and Nirvana memorabilia. There are fold-out pages, pull-out cards and flyers, a Valentine, a copy of a letter to Cobain from Michael Stipe, even a card Cobain made in elementary school. Maybe it's me putting too much of a YA services slant on this, but I think the designers of this book must really be in touch with the next generation of Cobain fans, the generation that has grown up in a visual world and processes information much differently than Cobain's original fans did. As Cross takes us through Cobain's life, the accompanying pictures highlight not just his artistic talents but his sense of the morbid, which he had even as a child. Even after Nirvana gained fame, Cobain continued to bite the hand that fed him. For all his fame, he continued to speak against big businesses (including his record company) and was more dedicated to producing art than pleasing legions of fans. Even though there aren't that many professional pictures of him, in many of the photographs you can look at his eyes and see the sadness and depression that plagued him for much of his life. Cross's writing is unapologetic and just a step above functional, which works well when writing a biography of someone so extraordinary, someone who lived in art and combining words in new and provocative ways. Cobain's life speaks for itself, all Cross needed to do was sort it out. Cross does this well, showing us both the beautiful and the profane sides of Cobain's personality. Because of all the little doodads this might not be a book for every library, but it's definitely a book for any Nirvana fan to read.

Things to note: First, the final copy comes with a CD of Cobain reading from his journals, which was not included in my review copy. I can't wait to hear it, though. Second, this is not necessarily meant to be a reference book. There is no index or bibliography. There doesn't have to be, of course, I'm just noting it because librarians like to note these things.

Reading this book, I not only feel that I know more about Kurt Cobain, but I understand more. I don't necessarily feel that I know him. Very few people really did. But I know I'm going to go back to Nevermind and In Utero and give them a new listen, and I'm sure they'll take on new dimension since I know more about the stories behind their formations.

See more about Cobain Unseen at Rolling Stone and in the Seattle Times.

Everyone has a weakness. Mine is books with pink sparkly covers, and definitely books with pink sparkly covers written in diary format. Today's pink sparkly book in diary format is the fun, silly-yet-serious Diary of a Chav by Grace Dent. Copy acquired at the Fall '08 librarian/reviewer preview at Little, Brown (thank you muchly!). Erm...to clarify, my galley has a pink sparkly cover. The final version has a blue sparkly cover.

Shiraz Bailey Wood...even the name makes me smile...is a self-described chav, derogatory slang for white working-class Brits who like hip-hop and the fashions associated with it. She makes no apologies for being one and spends her days hanging around Claire's with the bad girls from school, or maybe with her best friend Carrie, whose wealthy mother had the Sistine Chapel reproduced on the ceiling of the family home with the family's faces painted on it. Her older sister, Cava-Sue, is on her way to becoming the family outcast due to her interest in studying acting at the higher education level. Shiraz wasn't planning on keeping a diary, but it was a gift from her grandmother so she might as well use it. She documents her hoop-earring, hip-hop listening days with flair and a lot of cursing. Oh, and there's some romance, too.

At first, this book can be hard to get into because it's so peppered with British slang. Anyone with experience in figuring out word meanings from context, though, should have Shiraz's rhythm down by page 5. I'd love to hear this in audio; I think an audio version would bring a lot of spirit and meaning to the text. What's great about Shiraz is that she doesn't make excuses for being a chav, nor does she aspire to some great refined lifestyle, but she is street smart and as the book goes on she starts to see value in being book smart as well. This is not some great revelation, either. Rather, a teacher recognizes that Shiraz is bright and encourages her to put her sass to good use. That, and Shiraz knows she doesn't want any job where she'll have to wear wellies and a hat ever again. I found this book hilarious and very real in that Shiraz lacks a lot of the self-awareness I see from teens in so much YA literature. She gets in trouble and fights with her friends and isn't sure what she wants to do with her life and is generally finding herself.

Subsequent books in the series are available in the UK and I'm anxiously awaiting their arrival in the US. Also, I have to say that this is one of the books this year where I like the US cover better than the UK cover. The UK covers aren't bad at all, I just like the picture on the US cover (which is the one at the top of this entry).


teen feedback in SLJ || at LB-Teens || at Poppy

I'm on a sprint to read books with multiple starred reviews because the time for putting the BCCLS Mock Printz list together is drawing near. Today's book: The Boy Who Dared by Susan Campbell Bartoletti

We begin with a Tuesday in the life of Helmuth Guddat Huebner, a German political prisoner in 1942. Tuesday is the day the executioner comes, and Helmuth wonders if today might be his last day on Earth. As we move from scenes in Helmuth's prison cell to the story of his childhood, we see a boy with a strong sense of justice, who is not willing to defy his own views and beliefs just because they are the beliefs of the majority. Helmuth is eight years old when Hitler comes to power, but even at eight Helmuth can see that not everything Hitler does is really in the best interests of Germany. Hitler may talk about protecting Germans, but Helmuth knows he is losing freedoms and being told what to think about non-Germans. He fights with his mother's boyfriend, a Nazi who believes that Hitler is in the right. He also defies his teachers, who want him to write pro-Nazi school papers. Because of his views on humanity and equality, Helmuth is encouraged to stay silent. But as we know, quiet people don't have books written about their lives.

Using information he hears from the BBC on a black-market radio, Helmuth begins distributing flyers that speak against the Nazi party and its propaganda. He is eventually caught by the Nazis and put on trial. Even with the knowledge that he is facing imprisonment, maybe execution, Helmuth refuses to stay silent or allow others to take his punishment.

The book is definitely worthy of all its starred reviews. It's a fast yet thought-provoking read, and I am always supportive of books that show young readers why defiance in an oppressive time (WWII or not) is never as easy as it looks. Bartoletti keeps the focus on Helmuth tight and shows the reader German history really well without going off into history data-dumping tangents. We see the struggle Helmuth must fight between speaking for what he believes is right and the knowledge that doing so could get him sent to prison, or worse. Bartoletti makes us understand why even those who did not believe in the Nazi ideals joined the party and fought in the war. There's also a powerful look at how the distribution and receipt of information influence people's beliefs.

With all this, do I think it's a Printz book? As much as I liked it, I'm leaning toward no. I would definitely buy it for my library, booktalk it, and perhaps even use it in a book discussion group. It's nominated to BBYA and is quite deserving of a spot on that list. I just don't think that it terms of "literary" it's in the same field as some of my other favorites. Not all books have to be literary, though, and I do encourage you all to take a look at this book.

I'm reading a book right now that...I guess it's set in Chicago, though the author never says exactly where the main character lives. And by "set in Chicago," I mean it takes place in the actual city, not the suburbs. This is somewhat important.

At one point in the book, the main character goes on a date, and the author describes a table in the pizzeria where said date takes place as being "sticky with soda."

Soda? What? No way. People from Chicago and Cook County (where I grew up) call that fizzy stuff that comes in cans "pop." Except for my mom. (Hi, Mom!) So I Googled the author and found that she's not from Cook County but Lake County, which according to the very highly scientific Illinois pop-vs-soda survey has a slightly higher incidence of calling that fizzy stuff that comes in cans "soda" than Cook County. Even more, people who live in Cook, Lake, and DuPage County have lower instances of calling it pop than the rest of northern Illinois. But the fact still stands: A narrator from Chicago is much more likely to call it "pop." My family has lived in Chicago and Cook County for generations and the only one of us who ever calls it "soda" is my mom. My friends and I at my Cook County high school? Called it "pop."

More stats on "pop" vs. "soda" vs. "Coke" can be seen here: Generic Names for Soft Drinks.

You'll notice, looking at the map, that all of New Jersey is olive green, meaning that 80-100% of the survey respondents refer to it as "soda." True story: For my very first Teen Advisory Board meeting in New Jersey, I said to the members, "I am happy to get you whatever kind of snacks you want, so if you have food allergies or if you like a certain kind of pop, please let me know."

They all looked at me as though I'd grown a second head and said, "It's SODA."

I never understood why anyone would call it "soda." It's called "pop" because that's what it does! Fight that logic, New Jersey.

September seems to be Teen Dystopia Review Month over here. The dystopia du jour is Gone by Michael Grant, a brick of a book that has fans already clamoring for its sequel.

Yes, that is the UK cover in this entry. I'm using it because, well, I like it better than the US cover. The UK cover looks like an ad for a cool SF TV show, doesn't it? I hope when this book goes into paperback that Harper considers using the UK cover.

How it begins: It's a normal day for fourteen-year-old Sam Temple and his friends until everyone over the age of fourteen disappears in an instant. There's no warning, no time to stop what they're doing. The only people left in Sam's town of Perdido Beach are those age fourteen and under. Sam and his friends Quinn, Edilio, and Astrid quickly discover a barrier around Perdido Beach, termed the Fallout Area Youth Zone (FAYZ). No one can get in or out, regardless of age. Food and medical supplies begin to diminish, and bullies with baseball bats menace the weaker, smaller kids. Not long after all the adults disappear, a group of students from Coates Academy, the private school for troublemakers, ride into town and declare their rule. Their leader, Caine, seems like a reasonable sort on the surface but Sam and Astrid know better than to trust him. Caine, like Sam, exhibits supernatural powers. Unlike Sam, Caine is manipulative and cruel, using his power to make certain that no one upsets his self-declared status as community ruler. Caine also claims that Sam is his twin brother, that they were separated at birth and they both possess an unusual amount of the magical power. It's looking like the battle for control of Perdido Beach will be brother vs. brother. That is, until Sam learns that all of them may be facing an evil force greater than all the superpowered kids in Perdido Beach put together. And he has two weeks to figure everything out, because that's how long it is until his fifteenth birthday.

My thoughts: This book is not perfect, but it's still worth talking about. I will say that the setup and the pacing are absolutely spectacular. I read and read and the next thing I knew, I was three hundred pages in. It takes talent to make a reader not notice 300 pages have passed. The setting is clear and somehow the author manages to avoid making the reader feel claustrophobic despite the fact that the whole book takes place in what, ten square miles? Where the book fell flat was on the characterization. I understand that the first book needs to set up for book 2 and there are tons of characters to balance and not everyone is going to get great development. I know that the setup of who's good versus who's bad is the big concern. But there are two characters that drive me absolutely damn crazy. First, Caine. Caine's dialogue is often clunky and gets a little Evil Overlord in places. The way he calls Sam "brother" totally reminds me of Lore in Star Trek: The Next Generation. Second, Astrid. I haven't seen a Mary-Sue this epic since Bella Swan. I'm all for smart girls, believe me, but smart girls who know everything, who are light years ahead of all their peers emotionally, who are basically saints when it comes to their autistic four-year-old brothers, who always come up with the right plan at the right time, are not much fun to read about. I'm also not a fan of one of the big sekrit plot twists involving the cause of all the adults disappearing; it was really trite and didactic. The many religious parallels were interesting to read, I guess, but I'm not sure what to make of them just yet, or even if I'm seeing parallels where there aren't any?

Despite these flaws, I think this book has huge appeal. 17-year-olds could enjoy it and 13-year-olds could enjoy it. There's mystery, adventure, fantasy, horror, and a little bit of romance. I love the quick degeneration of Sam's town, especially because so many adults are quick to label children as adorable precious angels capable of doing no wrong. Yes, some characters make an effort to do the right thing, but Caine and his followers are unashamedly hungry for power. The lines between the side of light and side of dark are not as clear as they could be. (This is a good thing!) Not all the kids with supernatural powers are on one side or the other. It's kind of a remarkable look at the instinct for self-preservation and how the amoral quickly rise to being the scariest people around.

HarperCollins Children's Books page || at The Book Muncher || at YA New York || Michael Grant's blog

Ah, there's nothing I like better than a nice book about a nice Jewish girl from a nice town who grows into a nice serial killer. Many, many thanks to Michelle Fadlalla of Simon & Schuster for the review copy of Jenny Green's Killer Junior Year by Amy Belasen and Jacob Osborn.

Whodunit: Jenny Green, self-proclaimed JAP (Jewish American Princess), is so over her high school on Long Island. Sophomore year was a hellish journey that ended with Veronica Cohen taking Jenny's date to the prom. Jenny decides that instead of facing her problems, she's going to run from them...all the way to Canada. She convinces her indulgent parents to send her to Molson (like the beer) Academy in Canada, where no one will know her, or about the MySpace debacle with the picture of her huge zit. Enrolling late means she ends up in a house full of hippies who barely clean the bathroom. She gets herself into AP Calculus but can't understand a word the teacher said. About the only bright spots at Molson for Jenny are her new BFF Chloe, Edgar, who helps her with her math homework, and adorable, sweet Josh Beck, who Jenny knew in Long Island. Problem is, once Jenny finally gets her hands on Josh, he turns out to be not as sweet as she thought he was. In fact, when Josh attacks Jenny, she defends herself by breaking her roommate's glass bong and stabbing him to death with the pieces.

It's not like she meant to kill him! Everyone knew he was suicidal anyway. And her new boyfriend, Dizzy D, is turning out to be kind of scummy. Ugh, wasn't Canadian boarding school supposed to get her away from scummy boys? Jenny might be the new girl, but she's not about to put up with any boy's crap. And the boys that do her wrong are in for a lot more than a little crying and a MySpace page dedicated to how bad a boyfriend they are.

And how: When I booktalk this book, I always compare it to Dexter. Jenny's no forensic scientist but the concept of the book and the show is very much the same: A person who keeps up a normal appearance murders those s/he considers evil. Jenny's voice is delightfully sociopathic, sort of a combination of blasé and outright, total panic at what she's done. The more murders she commits, the more she's able to justify her actions. She does acknowledge, sort of, that murder is wrong, but she just has sooooo many other things to worry about. In an effort to make herself into a better person, you know, the kind that doesn't murder, she tries to work and get involved with school activities. Problem is, school plays can't change the fact that Jenny still wants revenge on the boys who scorn her. It's hard to express how much I like this book, because it's so hard to talk about without making the book sound completely heinous. Jenny is a really unique character who reminded me a little of Kathy from Never Let Me Go, the way she could be so rational about such heinous acts. Through all the crazy things she does, Jenny remains true to her JAP self, still focusing on the superficial. I think she'd be a fascinating character to discuss in a group.

Also, the cover is awesome, yes? Normally I hate those covers that have models with half a head but this shot is terrific. I love the knife against the preppy clothes. It really captures the juxtaposition of personality that makes Jenny interesting to read.

Did anyone else see Top Design last night, where the challenge was to decorate a fallout shelter? It was a serendipitous, if rather scary, moment, because I was on my couch reading S.A. Bodeen's The Compound at the time. I suppose that's what I get for not bothering to change the channel after Project Runway.

The plot: For six years, Eli Yanakakis has lived three stories underground in a lavish fallout shelter. On his ninth birthday, his father ushered his family away from what he said was a nuclear attack and into The Compound. The door to the compound is sealed and set to open in fifteen years, enough time for the nuclear waste from the attack to become harmless. The only people Eli has seen or communicated with for years are his mother, father, and two sisters. He desperately misses hamburgers, his twin brother, Eddy, his grandmother, and his dog. Though The Compound seems stocked with everything he could ever want, Eli knows there are many faults in his father's plan for survival. Their food supply is not what it should be. He catches his father lying about the ability to connect to the Internet. As the book goes on, Eli learns that his father's ultimate plan for a food source, what they call The Supplements, is not the result of poor planning but of his father's near-insanity. Eli knows he has to get out, but only his father knows the secret code to opening the door.

Why you'll love it: When I first picked up this book, I thought it was a dystopian novel. Dystopias in YA are really hot right now and I do love me some imperfect future worlds, but I thought the horror/psychological thriller factor went way up when I realized it wasn't a dystopian novel. Is the book perfect? No. There are some holes in the plot and characterization, but Eli's world is so absorbing, his character so interesting, that the reader doesn't care so much. Eli goes from having a life that every teen would envy to one that no one would want. It reminded me of Flowers in the Attic in many ways: A teen living in a golden cage, a parent's warped idea of safety, a question of gratitude, adapting to survive, protecting one's family, etc. In the span of this book, Eli changes more, grows more, than he has in the past six years. In order to escape, Eli has to put aside all the tactics he's adopted just to get through his daily life. He also has to face up to the question of how far he would go just to ensure his own survival. It's a hold-your-breath book, definitely one that fans of The Hunger Games would enjoy.

Enter The Compound || S.A. Bodeen || review at Charlotte's Library ||

I'm cramming in the last of the 2008 "Books to Watch Out For" before I have to go silent in 2009, so here's a link: Suicide Notes by Michael Thomas Ford. Read it. You'll like it.