Review: The Knife of Never Letting Go by Patrick Ness

age: Ya
genre: dystopia, sci-fi
rating: 5/8 tentacles

Todd Hewitt lives on a planet where everyone's thoughts are psychically broadcast, even animals. When Todd finds something strange in the swamp, his stepfathers present him with his dead mother's journal and a map and urge him to escape town. Todd discovers that much of what he's been raised to believe is a lie. Interesting premise dealing with privacy, truth, and innocence.

Ness writes skillfully (although he overdoes the dialect a little in my opinion). I like the interaction between Todd and Viola. I liked watching Todd slowly make sense of the world, and could empathize with the frustration he felt when his ignorance was proven to him again and again. The way that Patrick Ness deals with the conflicts that would naturally arise from a world in which every man can see into every other man's mind, and only women can keep their thoughts private, adds ambiguous complexity to the story.

I did not like the way that readers were excluded from secrets revealed to the main characters. Withholding information creates suspense, but if withheld for too long, readers will become frustrated. If I'm going to watch somebody show or explain something to Todd, I want to be in on it. Especially if the "big reveal" later on isn't all that exciting and I could've guessed the big secret. Just tell me. What is the point of writing in first person if I don't get to experience everything Todd experiences.

I also don't like Todd because of a thing he did (didn't do) that I can't tell you about. His actions are often portrayed in a manner that seems to suggest a moral lesson, which annoys me. It feels forced to praise a character who shuns murder, even in situations where killing would be a legitimate defense, or would protect a loved one. To me, this is not admirable. It's cowardly and stupid. It's also a little implausible considering the conditions that Todd was raised in, right? Todd goes on and on about how some people grew up in luxury while in his town, people had to fight to survive. But then he only fights to survive up to a certain point. I guess personality can trump environment and up-bringing? I don't know. I feel skeptical about this.

Anyway, the writing is solid and I love the idea of Noise. On to the sequel!

Review: All You Never Wanted by Adele Griffin

age: YA
genre: realistic fiction
rating: 8/8 tentacles

Alex Parrott, high school senior and former It girl, struggles through a nervous breakdown as her younger sister Thea fights to claim a place for herself in the high school hierarchy. While Alex wastes away in her room, Thea performs the new self she's cultivated, spreads lies, and flaunts her step father's money.

This book is great. The writing is beautiful and real. It's gut writing. It's poetry. I wish I could be this good.

The novel is split between Alex and Thea's perspectives.  Alex's chapters are written in third person and Thea's in first.  (Interesting, interesting.)  The characters possess a human complexity that makes them engaging and relatable, if not likable.

Love this book.  I will definitely be reading more of Adele Griffin.

Review: Sapphire Blue by Kirsten Gier

age: YA
genre: sci-fi, time travel
rating: 6/8 tentacles

I feel like sometimes there's no point reviewing sequels. I could copy and paste my review of Ruby Red here and I think it would make complete sense and be mostly accurate. Same likable characters, same mystery, same time travelling fun, same incomplete arc. At the end I turned the page expecting the story to continue and then thought wait, that's it? It just ended?

Luckily I got distracted/lazy/something and didn't get around to reading this until a while after publication, so I don't have to wait very long for the next installment, which I am excited for. This is the kind of fun book that leaves you wanting more of the same. Now I just have to wait til October.

P.S. I hate Charlotte and want terrible things to happen to her. I want her to be exposed as the useless, spineless, fraud that she is. Someone needs to slap her.
P.P.S. I hope Gideon turns out to be evil. I'm tired of predictable romances.

Review: Seraphina by Rachel Hartman

age: YA
genre: fantasy
rating: 5/8 tentacles


In a world where humans and dragons live in tentative peace after years of wars, Seraphina must conceal the fact that she is half-dragon. Because dragons can take the form of humans, this is not as weird as it sounds.

I love the way that Rachel Hartman sets up the differences between humans and dragons. Her dragons are obsessed with knowledge and logic and lack the ability to mimic the social niceties of humans. I wish I could go around behaving like a dragon. Hartman's worldbuilding is economical and informative and the vocabulary she creates around her dragon culture is fun and lends her world authenticity.

The characters lean a little toward cartoony but the ambiguous subject matter--prejudices against a foreign "race"-- adds back some complexity. As does Seraphina's fear of being found out as a fraud. Even people without secret dragon scales may be able to relate to her insecurities.

I hated the mental garden scenes. We watch as Seraphina withdraws into her imagination and describes creatures that we assume she has made up. This stuff does become relevant later, but until the end of the book, we float away from the plot and the tangible world and waste time hearing about seemingly random creatures that have no anchor in the story and no discernible purpose. I was completely bored during these scenes.

Even though Seraphina drags in places, the premise captivated me and I stayed up late to finish it instead of doing things I was supposed to do. Always a sign of a good book.

Review: Another Little Piece by Kate Karyus Quinn

age: YA
genre: horror
rating: 7/8 tentacles

when missing girl annaliese is found after a year, she remembers nothing but the few days she spent wandering before her rescue. returning fragments of memory that don't fit anneliese's life begin to convince her that she's not who everyone thinks she is.

authentic characters, authentic relationships. great mystery that steadily unspools and satiates craving for answers bit by bit instead of ending in a cheap twist. creepy, fun, original. solid writing. read in one day.

Review: Me and Earl and the Dying Girl by Jesse Andrews

age: YA
genre: realistic fiction, cancer
rating: 7/8 tentacles

this is about a boy who finds out a girl he was sort of friends with once has been diagnosed with cancer. his mom thinks he should be there for her, so he is pushed into the awkward task of reconnecting and beginning a friendship that has an expiration date.

honest, human, compex. fun, youthful voice. cuts out annoying sentimentality and preachy it-will-be-okay messages. imperfect, likable characters. funny--i laughed out loud (for real) a bunch of times. screenplay format successfully integrated into prose (like in Monster, which is also great). read in one day.

Review: Prodigy by Marie Lu

age: ya
genre: dystopia
rating: 4/8 tentacles

This novel is the second in a trilogy.  Spoilers for Legend below.


Day and June, after preventing Day's execution, travel to Vegas seeking the Patriots' help. However, the Patriots don't give away anything for free. If Day and June want their assistance, they'll have to play a role in the assassination of the new Elector. When June meets the new leader, she discovers that he may not be the tyrant his father was, and she begins to doubt the necessity of the rebels' plot. As Day and June move forward with the assassination, both become less and less sure of who they can trust, even beginning to doubt each other.

This trust dilemma creates a deliciously ambiguous conflict. With Razor, Patriot leader, on one side, and the new Elector, Anden, on the other, Day and June are divided between destroying the government in a full revolution, or giving the new Elector a chance to steer the existing government in a more positive direction. Which way is the best way? From a reader's perspective, both of these options make sense, and it's easy to empathize with the confusion that Day and June feel, as well as their fear of being manipulated. This representation of the rebels and the ruling authority is refreshingly human, although some of the grey sharpens into black and white as new information is revealed later on.

Although the premise of the plot is intriguing and creates the potential for complexity, its execution leaves much to be desired. In my review of Legend I mentioned the author's tendency to tell rather than show. This continues in Prodigy. The narrative consists of superficial inner monologues that repeat themselves and are overrun with rhetorical questions. Here is the first example I found, flipping through the book:

If Razor thinks June is safest under Thomas's watch, then so be it. But what are they going to do with June once they've got her? What if something goes wrong, and Congress or the courts do something that Razor didn't plan for? How can he be so sure that everything will go smoothly?

There are many more instances of this, and it isn't enjoyable to read. We're told what questions we should be asking instead of being lead to consider these possibilities on our own. There are better ways of creating tension in fiction, like through sensory detail or dialogue or descriptions of the behaviors of the characters. Spelling it out like this is boring for me (and other readers, I imagine) and lazy on the part of the writer.

My other problem with Prodigy (and Legend) is June. Everyone finds her beautiful, she wins every battle she fights, she has flawless logic (she conveniently figures everything out before everyone else), her brain is basically a clock (she can tell you exactly how many minutes and seconds have passed between events), she is THE BEST student ever to attend her military college. She's not a person, she's a fantasy, and I find her incredibly flat and boring. What's the point of making her so robotic-ly perfect? If I wasn't so fond of Day, I don't think I could've made it through these two books and if June was the sole protagonist, I'd have given up long ago.

These problems existed in Legend but seem to be amplified here, like the author is giving in to her weaknesses instead of improving on them. I do love the story. I'm interested in the conflict between the Republic and the Colonies. I love Day's relationship with the people of the Republic and the dramatic irony that comes out of his execution (we know he's alive, the people don't). As I said before, I like the way that Lu deals with trust. And I will read Champion as soon as it's released, but I'm crossing my fingers hoping that Lu will learn and grow as a writer because I'm not satisfied with the level of skill exhibited here.

Review: Legend by Marie Lu

age: YA
genre: dystopia
rating: 5/8 tentacles

Legend is set in what appears to be the future America, divided and at war. When June, a wealthy orphan and child genius, loses her brother, she is hastily graduated from military school and put on the trail of his killer. Robin Hood type rebel Day, wanted by the Republic for a series of criminal offenses, struggles to procure expensive medication for his family when a never before seen strain of plague infects his brother. Through chapters alternating between these two characters' POVs, readers watch as Day's and June's lives become more and more entangled, drawing them closer to uncovering a horrible secret they never imagined their country was keeping.

June and Day are both authentic, likable characters. Day is a refreshing switch from the smoldering man-whore love interest. He is compassionate and vulnerable and comes across like a mostly regular person. His super powers are agility and cleverness. June's stubborn patriotism clashes nicely with Day's disillusioned deviance, although her child geniusness comes off a little false. She's cool, but she's no Ender.

The plot moves consistently forward and Lu provides us with enough details about the setting to craft a new and intriguing world identity without bogging down the story. However, there's a lot of telling where there could be showing, which--if remedied--would create much more complexity. Maybe I'll find you an example when I have the book in front of me. There are also several passages (and this is a pet peeve of mine) that describe June's outfits and makeup in detail. Nothing wrong with this except that these descriptions are--in general--inserted where tonally inappropriate, where they interrupt the pace, or where they cause inconsistencies with voice. Also I don't care. For example, this is not something that Day would pause to describe to us (he does). Maybe to notice June's dress or her fancy military uniform, but would he describe her makeup? It felt weird.

Legend is not the most innovative novel--it is another story of two teens struggling against the secretive and oppressive government of a futuristic class-based society--and the writing is functional if not extraordinary. However, my interest in the characters and the mystery of the plot were enough to keep me reading late into the night, and I plan to start the sequel immediately.

Review: Sever by Lauren DeStefano

age: YA
genre: post-apocalypse, kind of dystopia?
rating: 3/8 tentacles

Sever is better than Fever, but still doesn't fulfill the potential of the series premise. The pace remains much too slow. Characters spend a lot of time waiting for no real reason. Motivations get forgotten and left behind. The world is only partially described, and much too late.

Spoilers for Wither and Fever below.

When Sever begins, Rhine has recently evaded the clutches of Vaughn and tried to explain to Linden (finally!) the extent of his father's misdeeds. Linden doesn't believer her, perfectly natural--why shouldn't he trust his father, but agrees to help her avoid Vaughn and find her brother. Then, for most of the book, Rhine stays within Vaughn's reach and does very little to track down Rowan. The efforts she does make to find her brother lack urgency, which is strange considering that he's going around blowing up buildings and she thinks that she can stop him. But no worries, she just hangs around and eats nothing but apples.

A big deal is made out of how cars and cell phones are now a rarity, which doesn't make sense to me. If this world contains high tech labs and advanced medical technology, why don't cell phones work? There are still adults around unaffected by the "virus" who know how this stuff functions and could keep the world running. Yes, there could be an explanation for the collapse of the internet and cell phone service, and a half-hearted attempt is made at one just before the book ends, but this leaves me wondering for the entire series why characters don't just do things the easy way. And I can't become invested in their conflicts if the characters seem to be making things unnecessarily difficult for themselves. Forget cell phones, what about landlines? Why can't Rhine call the house where she left Gabriel to see how he's doing? Why doesn't she try to get in touch with Rowan instead of wasting time cleaning for Linden's uncle and then driving across half the country? I know they have phones because Vaughn calls people.

The characters don't come across as vividly as they did in Wither. Cecily is certainly the strongest and stands out in this last installment. Rhine becomes a vague, actionless shell. Linden fades into the background and becomes little more than a flimsy tie linking Rhine to the superficial luxury of her old prison. Her nostalgia for the place that she was so desperate to escape in Wither adds some welcome complexity. However, her conversations with Linden about their relationship disturbed me. He apologizes to her for expecting her affections, or something like that, and Rhine says it's okay, we were married.

What!?

Being kidnapped, imprisoned, and forced into a bond with a stranger is not a real marriage. He is not entitled to expect anything from the slave wives that he picked out of a truck-full of kidnapped girls. And Rhine is suddenly okay with all of this? Because Linden is actually kind of nice? This makes me angry.  Rhine was angry too--what happened?

Sever loses sight of issues originally posed by the series. There's no more talk of the House Governor system, no more freedom and poverty vs. luxury and enslavement, no more determination to survive. I no longer understand Rhine, her relationships with any human beings, or her decision making processes. Rowan needs a slap in the face and a wakeup call. And I still don't understand how this virus/not virus works, how extensive it is, and what the deal is with the outside world. Ultimately, I am confused and dissatisfied. 

Review: Requiem by Lauren Oliver

age: YA
genre: futuristic, wannabe dystopia
rating: 2/8 tentacles

This is a sequel, there will be Delirium & Pandemonium spoilers.  Don't read the review if you haven't read the first two books.

I really did not like this book. I thought the trilogy was on an upward trajectory, the second book being an improvement on the first, but this fell flat. Most of the characters fail to stand out. They're like ghosts. Cardboard cutouts of people. Nothing happens until about 120 pages into the story. There's a lot of unimpressive description of nature that seems to exist only as filler. There's no real resolution at the end, which sometimes isn't necessary, but there's nothing else to make up for the lack of resolution either--just a little preachy message.

Here is a problem I have with the trilogy as a whole: the premise is never explained. Again, the explanation of love as a disease--who decided this, what are the accepted symptoms, how does the cure actually work, what emotions does it actually block out, what emotions that stem from love are tangentially blocked out--all this doesn't need to be clarified in scientific terms, but I need to feel that the author knows all these things, that she knows where she's going with the story. I need to trust in her authority. And the way the author can gain my trust is by relaying this explanation through the characters, through the ways they think and feel and interact.

Did anyone else notice that there is absolutely no difference between the thoughts and behaviors of the cured and the invalids? Sure, the only cured whose POV we get is Hana's and she has doubts regarding the success of her cure. But if the difference between the cured and the invalids is the basis for the main conflict of the trilogy, shouldn't we be able to see the difference? Maybe it just went over my head. Hana tells us her thoughts are clearer now. That's it. That's all the distinction we get.

I'm not even sure what "love" means in the context of this trilogy. Does the word refer only to romantic love? Lust? If I recall correctly, the love between a mother and her children is also meant to be extinguished by the cure, according to Delirium. What about self-love? Wouldn't a lust for power come out of self-love? Unless the person had this robotic, Darwinian urge to be Numero Uno. And jealousy? And pride? Do those come out of a corrupted love? Or does the cure simply kill the ability to form bonds with other people, with little effect on emotions of passion? It's all so muddied. After three books, I'm still not sure.

Review: Daughter of Smoke and Bone by Laini Taylor

age: YA
genre: paranormal, fantasy
rating: 3/8 tentacles

Daughter of Smoke & Bone tells the story of Karou, a blue-haired art student living in Prague. Karou was raised by creatures called Chimaera in a wish shop that connects to portals all over the world. Her guardian, demon-like Brimstone, collector of teeth and purveyor of wishes, sends Karou on shadowy errands that prevent her from living a "normal" life. Karou resents these errands until the portals close, and she's left stranded from her Chimaera family. When Karou embarks on a quest to find them, her adventures dredge up the mystery of her past and she struggles to discover who she is and where she came from. Also she falls in love with a warrior Angel who gazes at her with burning eyes.

I heard a lot of hype about this book before I picked it up, which might explain away some of my disappointment. It has a cool title. It's main character is an art student with sketchbooks full of monsters. The wishes and teeth collecting create a dark fairy tale vibe. All of these elements drew me to the story, but they weren't enough to make me like it.

After reading the first couple of pages of any book, you can get a good idea of the mood and focus of the rest of the story. When DSB begins with Karou's annoyance at an arrogant ex-boyfriend and her vengeful pranks, I was already thinking oh boy, this book is not what I thought it was going to be. I like all the stuff with Brimstone, and the necklaces of teeth and the mystery of their purpose. I like the art school stuff, and the way Karou's friends think the portraits she does of her monster family are this really creative story she's invented. I like angels sweeping silently through cities all over the world, their wings visible only in their shadows. I like the black hand prints burned into the portal doors. I like Karou's hidden past and the war that's waging another world. I preferred the sections set in the other world. The flashback stories.

I don't like the cutesy joking dialogue, the rhetorical questions (thank you I understand what I'm supposed to be wondering about), the abandonment of the plot for the omg we just met and now I love you story. Although this last part can be explained, the explanation doesn't diminish my annoyance at having had to read those scenes in the first place. They feel contrived because they're so romanticized and bear so much resemblance to similar scenes in other YA novels. In these sections, the illusion of reality thins and I feel the author manipulating the characters.

I had repeated urges to cross out lines and paragraphs. For me, the book wasn't dark enough, wasn't suspenseful enough, wasn't real enough. I want to inject some Guillermo del Toro into this. As is, the story feels a little like a cartoon. Maybe you like that. In my opinion, it's not a good thing. I want my novels to feel alive.

Review: Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children by Ransom Riggs

age: children's, YA
genre: paranormal
rating: 7/8 tentacles


Is this going to be series? I thought it was stand alone before I opened it, but now I could see there being a second book... I kind of hope there is a second book. I enjoyed spending time with these characters and I want to know more!

Jacob Portman, a lonely teenage boy, suffers a mental breakdown when his grandfather dies under what Jacob (and only Jacob) sees as mysterious circumstances. He convinces his father to travel with him to a tiny island off the coast of Wales, the setting of tales that Grandpa Portman shared with Jacob in his childhood. Jacob feels these tales were more than just stories, and is determined, unbeknownst to his parents, to discover the truth behind them and his grandfather's enigmatic past. He hopes this truth will make sense of his grandfather's death.

The premise of the story is weird and original. I mean, time loop? Ymbrynes? How did Riggs come up with this stuff? I love it. The vivid world of the novel lures the reader deeper and deeper into the story, as Jacob's thirst for answers lure him through forests and bogs and abandoned old houses. Jacob, as well as the characters he meets on his adventure, are human, idiosyncratic, and vulnerable. It is easy to become invested in their lives. The photographs included add a haunting, historical vibe, that contributes to the novel's mysterious. I enjoyed this book immensely and look forward to the sequel, which I've just researched and am now sure exists.

Review: The Diviners by Libba Bray

age: YA
genre: paranormal
rating: 4/8 tentacles

Evie "I want to see my name in lights" O'Neill gets shipped off to live with her uncle in Manhattan after her flapper antics cause trouble for her well-to-do parents. In New York, a ritualistic serial killer whose crimes smack with the supernatural is on the loose and the police ask Evie's Uncle Will, owner of a Museum of the Occult, to consult on the case. Unknown to her family, Evie posses a supernatural power of her own, the ability to get psychic readings from objects, and she is convinced that if she uses it, she could play an essential role in the capture of the murderer. But this murderer proves to be darker and more elusive than Evie, Will, & Co. expect.

This book shares some similarities with Libba Bray's previous supernatural trilogy. Both follow the exploits of a young girl in a supernatural version of history. Unlike Gemma's story, The Diviners is written in third person, and instead of focusing primarily on one character, skips between a multitude of them. The book improves when we've had time to get to know the characters a little more. The idea of the American Dream seems to pervade the novel. Most of the characters are motivated by a desire to make something of themselves, to be famous, glamorous, celebrated. To achieve an ideal.

While the book did entertain me, I still felt that something was missing. Instead of the distant, sweeping descriptions of the era, which are scattered throughout the novel (one follows wind, blowing through the city and observing its inhabitants), I would have preferred more time spent on individual characters and more specific, more sensory descriptions of the time period filtered through the points of view of the characters. There was a little too much name dropping to convince me of the setting's authenticity and a little too much stereotype to allow me to connect fully with the characters. The only one I really empathize with is Mabel--I would have like to see more of her. I hope she plays a bigger role in the rest of the trilogy.

The story itself is creepy and mysterious, a good fall read. The plot was resolved at the end (Hooray!), but I'm still left with questions about the characters and their lives. I look forward to the unfolding of these mysteries in the next installment of the trilogy. 

Review: The Absolutely True Diary of Part Time Indian by Sherman Alexie

age: children, YA
genre: realistic fiction
rating: 8/8 tentacles

This is the diary of a young boy searching for his place in the world as he grows up on a Spokane Indian Reservation.  Sherman Alexie tells Arnold "Junior" Spirit's story with poetry and wry honesty. We follow Junior as he struggles to preserve hope in the face of adversity and, at times, tragedy. His vulnerability and earnestness make it almost impossible not to root for him. It's a fast read and includes Junior's doodles and cartoons.  Definitely worth taking the time--I recommend it to everyone. I'm looking forward to reading more of Alexie's work

Review: Beauty by Robin McKinley

genre: fantasy, fairy tale
age: YA
rating: 6/8 tentacles

Robin McKinley writes refreshingly elegant prose. I was especially taken with the descriptions of the enchanted castle; its somber, grandiose decor; and all of the opulent little details of the wardrobe magically procured for Beauty. I like the idea of the blue dress with silver embroidered birds, the hall of portraits, and the haunting carved arch over the castle's entrance.

The existence of magic in Beauty's world is casually introduced, long before we see any evidence of it, in a way that suggests it might only be the stuff of stories. Beauty's family, who were born and bred in the city, view the countryside and the forests as the dark homes of goblins, fairies, and dragons. The curiosity and uncertainty in Beauty's delivery of this information smacks of superstition and I could imagine the stories as follies of the ignorant, people's beliefs about the Unknown they fear. Like those mapmakers who wrote "Here Be Dragons" across uncharted territories spotted with snakey coils stitched across painted seas. This representation of magic gave the world an anchor in reality. The novel begins in a world like our own, or like ours once might have been, and we discover magic along with Beauty. McKinley's is a whimsical, enchanting magic. Two whirling breezes try to dress Beauty in clothes she feels are too extravagant for her and the tea things and dinner plates move on their own, constantly shoving each other out of the way in an effort to present their dish to the visiting lady.

The character of Beauty didn't make much of an impression on me. Her love of books lacked wonder and curiosity. Her sacrifice wasn't much of one--she didn't seem to mind giving up her life or her family although she did miss them once she was gone. She waxed on about the Greeks and learning languages and struck me as a generally stuffy and uninteresting person. My favorite characters were her father, who had such kind intentions, and the poor Beast. Oh and Greatheart, who became a capital "C" Character in my mind even though he was Beauty's horse.

McKinley's writing style and descriptions posses a lovely, sophisticated maturity. I called her prose refreshing earlier because I'm always glad to find writing without that overly sensationalized hyper-introspection that you may have seen me complaining about recently. That type of writing toes the edge of a cliff, over which is a steep descent into self-indulgent blather. But there is none of that here! I find more and more that I generally prefer YA and children's lit published between the sixties and the early nineties. (This one's pub. date is 1978.)

There is a bit more summary here than I would like. A balance between summary and action scenes (scenes that relay info vs. scenes during which action unfolds before us) allows the reader to experience the story with the characters at a steady pace. Too much summary creates too much distance between reader and character and too much action might overstimulate or deaden the pace. It depends. I think Beauty could have done with a few more action scenes.

This particular retelling was more similar to the french film released in the forties than to the probably better known Disney film (which I began re-watching after I finished this book). I don't think I've ever actually read any version of Beauty and the Beast before so I can't compare it to the original fairy tale (although I can say that the characters and background were supplied with a depth absent from fairy tales), but I enjoyed this book very much. I read it all in one day.

Review: Pandemonium by Lauren Oliver

genre: dystopia
age: YA
rating: 7/8 tentacles

This is a sequel, there will be Delirium spoilers.  Don't read the review if you haven't read the first book.

Now that Lena has successfully fled her oppressive society, she must come to terms with losing Alex and face the new hardships that accompany life in the small, self-sustained community of runaways located in the middle of a forest.   

Pandemonium's narrative splits into segments titled "Then" and "Now" that flip-flop between this period, set immediately after Lena's escape, and the present, during which Lena seems to have adapted and thrived, joining fellow runaways Raven and Tack in their rebellion against an organization called the DFA (Deliria Free America).

I found myself looking forward to the "Now" segments.  I enjoyed watching the clockwork of Raven and Tack's plan tick out, observing the smooth efficiency of the DFA meetings that Lena attended, and was intrigued by the character of Julian.  His wounded air and sense of entitlement reminded me a little of Colin Craven, who I like.  Lena watches Julian struggle with his inherited beliefs, delusions from which her own experiences had only recently distanced her--making for an interesting relationship.  In Delirium, Alex drops into Lena's world out of the blue and radically changes everything for her, teaches her to expand her perceptions, to live.  Now it's Lena's turn to do the same for some one else.

I did enjoy the survival segments as well, but because I preferred the other chapters, I found myself disappointed whenever I saw the word "Then" heading a chapter.   The two threads of time are two separate stories, one informing the other, but I wish they had been presented chronologically.  I saw no reason to alternate sections like Oliver did--I don't think this decision increases the drama of the plot, and I wouldn't have kept getting jerked out of the story I wanted to be reading.

Delirium didn't resonate with me and I picked up the sequel mainly out of curiosity.  I approached Pandemonium with a kind of oh-all-right-I-read-the-first-one-so-why-not mentality, without expecting to be impressed, but Pandemonium surprised me.  The plot was much more interesting than its predecessor's, I liked more of the characters (didn't like Hana or Alex, do like Raven and Julian), and Oliver's descriptions were just as beautiful as her writing in Delirium.

Review: Fever by Lauren DeStefano

Oh boy, look at THIS tangle of thorns. Ugliest book cover ever.

genre: dystopia, sci-fi-ish
age: YA
rating: 3/8 tentacles

Sequel alert: beware of spoiling Book 1.

Fever begins just after Rhine and Gabriel have escaped the mansion--their extravagant prison--and we follow them as they attempt to put more and more distance between themselves and the cold science of Vaughn's evil. This type of action calls for a quicker pace than Wither with more focus on plotting and less of that honey-slow description featured in the first installment of the series.  The nature of Fever's plot calls for more movement and a faster pace. Give me action! Give me adventure! Give me... a voyeuristic prostitution tent swathed in vagueness? Wait.

I definitely preferred the second half of the book to the first. There's a kind of slow cloudiness in the beginning, after the initial post-escape excitement. Typical on-the-run adventures primarily move move move. Characters get to one place, interact with people, figure stuff out, go to another place. That's what I expected from Fever Gabriel and Rhine dawdled at times and didn't do much finding out. Like none, actually.

There's definitely some juicy stuff later on. ( Hint: remember how Linden seemed to have no idea that his beloved brides were kidnapped by his father? How he obliviously lavished them with all sorts of luxurious gifts, how he blindly hoped for love? In Wither, I got the impression he almost expected gratitude from his "wives," a repulsive expectation, considering the violent way the girls were extracted from their lives, torn from their families. They witnessed the cold-blooded execution of the other girls, not deemed good enough to belong to Linden. I wanted that violence to be shoved in Linden's face. I wanted his stupid delusions to be shattered into pieces, his stolen happiness punctured.)

It's not that I dislike Linden.  I actually like him a lot--he's a great character. Much more interesting that Rhine's erm... consensual "love" interest.  Oh, Gabriel. What to say about Gabriel. Not much. There's not much about him to discuss. He's blonde, and likes Rhine, and is possessive. That's all I know. He is the paper kite at the end of the string in her hand. If she lets go, he is nothing. He has no characteristics beyond his attachment to Rhine.

Gabriel's bland character contaminates his romance with Rhine (also bland). I blame his possessiveness. They don't seem to have any actual affection for each other. Yes, Rhine shows concern for Gabriel when he's drugged out of his mind. But I think she mostly just feels guilt that she tore him out of one hell only to drag him right into a more horrific one. She feels obligated to protect him, to rescue him from the terrors of this world she's inflicted upon him. I don't see any evidence that Gabriel cares for Rhine, other than the way he glares at those who try to touch her, like a dog snapping at a stranger who wants to take his toy. The guilt is good. I like the guilt; it creates ambiguity and conflict. What I'm not sure I like is Gabriel's flatness. Even if their relationship is a sham, I'd like him to have a little more depth.

What it all comes down to is this: Wither entranced me, this book doesn't feel finished. Nothing pulls the plot forward and I spent most of my time with Fever just waiting.

Review: City of Lost Souls by Cassandra Clare

genre: paranormal
age: YA
rating: 4/8 tentacles

*OH, RIGHT.  THIS IS THE FIFTH BOOK IN A SERIES. THERE MAY OR MAY NOT BE SPOILERS FOR PREVIOUS BOOKS.  PROBABLY NOT BUT YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.*

I have mixed feelings about City of Lost Souls, mainly because it didn't meet the expectations built up by the previous four books in The Mortal Instruments series. This fifth installment reads more like fan-fiction than professional writing. Clare spends way too much time on cliched descriptions of make-out sessions and telling us what her characters are wearing. Really, there is no need to provide detailed descriptions of a character's ensemble every single time he or she enters a scene. Maybe a few times is okay, if the outfit is relevant or contributes to characterization, but lines like this are too much:

"As she came in, Alec looked up and saw her, and sprang to his feet, hurrying barefoot across the room--he was wearing black sweatpants and a white t-shirt with a torn collar--to put his arms around her."

I don't think the color of Alec's sweatpants is important enough to warrant interrupting the action to tell us. Shoving that in there ruins the sentence.

It's one example of the many ways that this novel lacks focus. I often found myself thinking, "What, this again? Get to the good part!" Mostly during the scenes between Maia and Jordan. I felt like there was an inordinate amount of time spent on the trivial exploits of secondary characters. Maia and Jordan's scenes were all pretty much gooey teen romance, which I can't stomach, especially when they're written without any originality. My public library put a sticker on the book's spine with a spooky ghost and the word "Horror." A more accurate sticker might have shown the torso of a man whose muscles rippled under his tightly fitted shirt. There's a couple of those floating around CLS.

The plot--Clary and friends' attempts to find Jace and Sebastian and then stop Sebastian's nefarious scheme--often got bogged down with the aforementioned makeout sessions and fashion commentary, but when it wasn't, when we were right in the thick of things--the book was pretty good. There was a lot of interesting development with Sebastian's character and his relationship with Clary. My favorite scenes were with Sebastian. He's a fantastic--I don't want to say villain, because Clare makes things nice and grey for us. A very dark grey, but grey nonetheless.

To sum up: entertaining plot, surprisingly amateurish writing. Could have used some more editing to really reach its potential, I think.

I'm being a little generous with my tentacles.  According to my chart, poor quality of writing, even with a decent story, deserves a 3 out of 8 but because I'm a fan of the series and it did get a little better towards the end, I'll throw in one more, out of the goodness of my heart.

Review: Dramarama by E. Lockhart

genre: realistic fiction
age: YA
rating: 5/8 tentacles

Sarah Paulson is bored with her life in what she sees as a dead-end middle-of-nowhere sort of town.  She gives herself a dramatic makeover, changes her name to Sadye,  and heads off to a summer theatre camp with her best friend Demi, convinced that her fortune is about to change, that the world of theatre will nurture her true self and allow her to grow into the sensational human being she knows she's meant to be.  But theatre camp isn't quite the dream Sadye expected.

One of Lockhart's talents is making readers empathize with her protagonists. Even though I didn't like Sarah/Sadye, I felt enragedly frustrated on her behalf as she fought to prove herself at a summer semester of drama school. She was like a little mole who kept popping her little mole head out of its hole, blinking in awe at the dazzling world of theatre, only to get whacked on the head by a mallet-happy drama instructor.

I pronounced "Sadye" as "Sad-yuh" in my mind. I knew it was supposed to be Sayd-ee from the moment I saw it but my brain wanted to say it the way it was spelled. Should have gone with Sade, Sadey, Sadie, Sady... there are so many options. Sad-yuh doesn't work for me.
The novel is interspersed with transcripts of the tape recordings Sadye and Demi make of their adventures at drama school.  The format is clever but boring.  Dialogue included in these segments feels flat and mostly uninformative and I had trouble following the conversations.

I'm not particularly interested in theatre, but the details of life at drama school entertained me and made me feel like I was looking into a secret world. I liked the ambiguous portrayal of friendship vs. competition and mindlessly following orders vs. creative collaboration. Not as good as Frankie Landau-Banks, which I constantly recommend to everyone.

Review: Clockwork Prince by Cassandra Clare

age: YA

genre: period, romance, paranormal
rating: 4.5/8 tentacles

**HERE BE SPOILERS. MAYBE. NOT FOR THIS BOOK, FOR CLOCKWORK ANGEL. THIS IS A SEQUEL SO, BE WARNED AND STUFF**

Okay so let's start with things I didn't like so we can end on a positive note.

I found the plot of this novel to be much less well-crafted than Clare's other work. I particularly like The Mortal Instruments series for its forward-moving plots that are centered on some kind of mystery or adventure--like where's mom and who are these weirdos with pictures on their arms? I enjoy romance when it's a subplot, but this trilogy's romance is creeping into the forefront, greedily elbowing the actual plot out of its way. In Clockwork Prince, the Magister and the clockwork angel and Tessa's unique abilities all take a backseat to her love triangle with Will and Jem. The romance is a spicy bonus but I’m reading the book because I want to know the secrets behind the Magister’s sinister scheming, why Tessa can shape shift, and who her parents were.

The one thing about Tessa that makes her interesting, that makes her stand out as a character, is the fact that she's a shape shifter and had no knowledge of this fact until some demon sisters trained her to do it properly. She should be using this ability, exploring its possibilities. This is what I was looking forward to when I read Clockwork Prince, but Tessa only shape shifts three times in the whole book: twice because it's part of a plan and once in the heat of battle. Why isn't she sneaking around in other bodies, getting into scrapes, and spying on people? Why isn't she using her skills for peronal gain or even just out of personal curiousity? It's such a fun, promising idea that I'm surprised Clare didn't do more with it. The subservient role of women in this time period lends itself to unique opportunities in this plot line.

I also had minor issues with some historical aspects of the novel. There was a kind of half-way attempt at period dialogue, but all Clare really did was use "shall" and get rid of contractions. I’m pretty sure that people used contractions in Victorian England. I think, with period speech, you either have to do research—which isn’t too hard, read some old letters or something—and really go for it, or you have write in the present day vernacular (avoiding obvious anachronisms) and it will just be understood that the character’s words are being translated in storytelling. Like in the movie Everafter. It’s set in medieval France, and yet everyone speaks with vaguely old-fashioned diction in English accents. It’s understood that the speech was adapted to aid the audience’s understanding. Maybe that’s what Clare was doing, but something about it felt off, or forced to me.

Clockwork Prince could have done with a little less classics-quoting. On the one hand, it’s interesting to know what was popular at the time and the books mentioned help set a historical backdrop. On the other hand, it’s a bit of a pet peeve of mine to read books that constantly quote other books. It feels a little bit like name dropping, or like a cheatery way to give the characters more depth. Maybe today, reading Victorian novels implies a certain level of intelligence, but back then, they’d have just been making their way down the bestseller/new publication list. I don’t know, I think I’m getting tangled up in my own presumptions but I still dislike reading about people reciting quotes.

Ta da! I’m done complaining.

And despite all of this, I did like Clockwork Prince. Not as much as Clockwork Angel and definitely not as much as The Mortal Instruments, but I enjoyed it. It’s the kind of book that has this magnetic pull to it, that makes you think about it constantly when you’re not reading it, that makes you count down the minutes to the end of your work day even more urgently than usual because you have a book to get home to, that makes you stay up reading late into the night. I’m trying to think of specific praises to balance out my review full of criticisms and the robot battle scene was pretty cool and the Jessamine thing was intriguing (and oh my god I forgot to complain about Will’s secret but this is getting long), but I think this addictive quality is so wonderful and rare that it balances out all of the little flaws on its own.