K.L. Hallam's Blog, page 6
May 29, 2019
MG Book Review: Spirit Hunters by Ellen Oh.
Spirit Hunters by Ellen OhMy rating: 5 of 5 stars
Reposted from my review on the Kidliteri Blog
Twelve-year-old Harper Raine and her family have relocated from New York City to DC during the heat of summer. There’s much to get used to, the incessant heat, and the “gothic charm” of their new house and the renovations.
Her four-year-old brother, Michael is oblivious, and it’s very strange that his room is cold with an unnatural chill when she visits, and he tells her about his new friend, Billy, pointing to a corner.
Michael is frustrated Harper can’t see him. His words trigger a memory of Harper’s when she was five-years-old when she had a best friend her older sister couldn’t see either.
“Billy doesn’t like when you call his house stupid.”
Harper covers for Michael when he tries telling their mother. She doesn’t like things she can’t understand. Harper doesn’t understand either.
Nothing has been the same since Harper’s accident. Reviewing her memory book, an "unfinished jigsaw puzzle", that had one missing piece. Unable to remember anything about the fire at school, when she was hospitalized with several broken bones. "It’s what the mind does to forget terrible tragedy." Did she really want to remember what happened?
With the move, Harper’s Korean grandmother lives closer, and she can’t wait to see her. But her mother won’t speak to her. She hasn’t in years. Harper misses her grandmother terribly, and through all the hauntings, and missing memories, Harper works to reunite them. Turns out, Grandma has a few surprises.
Ooh, I LOVED this fun, spooky middle-grade book! The ghosts were truly evil and SCARY! Harper has to go through several hoops to save her brother, and her older sister blames her for the move to D.C. One of my favorite scenes is Harper confronting a salesperson who’s a racist, and she sticks up for herself! The author is the founder of “We Need Diverse Books”.
The first in a series, I can’t wait to read the follow-up, ISLAND OF MONSTERS, for more spooky-fun! Out now!
View all my reviews
May 28, 2019
A Weekly 1K Speculative Short Fiction Series.
Hello Everyone!
I wrote a collection of 1k slipstream/ speculative shorts a while back and decided to share them with you on my blog.
This collection is from SPACES and it's for readers of all ages. Each week I'll feature one story, where all the action takes place in one room/space.
1. A Cellar2. The Department Store3. An Office4. A Garage5. An Alley6. A Restaurant7. The Boat8. A Library9. The Woods10. The Computer
Today I bring you ...
The Cellar
“Momma. What’s that sound?” Kaitlin clutched her mother's arm.“I'm sure it's just the hockey gear in the cellar. Must have fallen again,” her mother assured her.Uneasy, Mrs. Hall stood from the couch and left her ten-year-old daughter watching TV. "It happens when the winds pick up in the mountains." It was their special night alone. Mr. Hall and Kaitlin’s brother were out watching a game. With the storm coming she expected them home soon.On a direct course for the basement near the kitchen, Mrs. Hall grabbed the handle and hesitated before turning the knob. Standing above the pit of darkness, she switched the light on. Then proceeded down the steps.“What is it, Momma?” Kaitlin waited at top of the stairs.“I’m sure it’s nothing. I’ll check on the rabbits, don’t worry.“Can I come down?”“Wait there and switch the light on if it goes out.”“Okaaay.”Kaitlin’s breath was heavy and labored. The humidity had brought on her asthma. Mrs. Hall padded down the fifteen steps to the bottom.The basement light went out. “Kaitlin!” her mother shouted. The faulty wire, again?“Got it!” The light was back.Ever since the Hall family had moved into 105 Essex, the blackouts were all too frequent. Not unheard of in the windy mountains of Western Pennsylvania. On some days, even without the wind, the lights went out.There were occasions when the neighbor’s lights went out during a storm, the lights at 105 Essex would still be on. Or vise-versa. It was almost as if 105 Essex had its own energy supply.At the bottom of the steps, Mrs. Hall tiptoed around the corner where the rabbits were busy munching. Not sure why she kept them in the basement instead of the art shack in the backyard. It was warmer there.The rabbits looked up with their usual nervous twitches. One finishing a carrot and not the least bit disturbed about anything unnatural.And then BANG!Mrs. Hall jumped.“Kaitlin, are you all right?”“Yes, Momma. Are Pinkie and Peppy, Okay?”Mrs. Hall searched among the junk in the cellar for the piece of furniture or athletic accessory that must have fallen. When she was satisfied all was fine, Mrs. Hall reached into the pen and picked up Pinkie, the white rabbit with brown patches.“Can I see the bunnies?” Kaitlin called down the steps. “Please?”“Sure, come on. Just watch your step.” “I’ve got, Pinkie.” Kaitlin scooped the rabbit up from her mother’s hands.“Not too long,” her mother said, “Your asthma’s already kicking up.”Kaitlin nodded. “And Peppy, I don’t want you to get jealous.” She replaced Pinkie in favor of Peppy.Hearing another sound in the far corner, Mrs. Hall moved away from the pen, while Kaitlin talked to the rabbits.Not only did the new house enjoy its own light display, it often seemed to try its hand at redecorating, and favored the basement for its antics.As suspected, the skis had fallen on top of the hockey equipment set-aside for the season. Turning to see Kaitlin, movement caught her eye.But it was nothing, must have been her imagination.Lifting the skis, she was glad she’d moved the rabbits days ago. From her position, she couldn’t see Kaitlin or the rabbits.After she finished positioning the equipment, she passed the cellar window and found it open. “Must have been a raccoon,” she said turning the knob. The window squeaked shut. “There, that should keep them out.”Would raccoons hurt the rabbits? Mrs. Hall wondered. She made a mental note to move the bunnies out of the basement tomorrow morning.“Kaitlin?”Her daughter was gone and so were the rabbits. “Kaitlin, you can’t take the rabbits upstairs,” she called and trudged up the steps.“I didn’t put Edgar away. Could you bring the dog leash?” Mrs. Hall reached the top step and the basement door slammed shut. “Kaitlin, please open the door!” she shouted and turned the knob. It was locked. “Kaitlin!”The basement lights flickered. Not again. “Kaitlin! Open this door, right now!” Mrs. Hall knocked harder and harder.There was no answer.Racing down the basement steps, then across the room to the back exit she noticed the window she’d just closed was open. Her first thought: there’s a raccoon in the basement. “Ridiculous, raccoons cannot open windows.” Her heart raced. Mrs. Hall’s throat was dry and she coughed nearly choking on the air.She lifted the metal bar across the basement door. It leads to the back yard. But she could not push the door open.She was trapped. Mrs. Hall banged against the door with the full weight of her body.Who would hear her out back? It was woodland for miles?Kaitlin wasn’t answering. She must have gone to her bedroom to play with the rabbits.Sweat rose over Mrs. Hall’s lip. The basement was stifling enough, and it was humid, she couldn’t breathe. As though oxygen was being siphoned out of the basement.Unable to leave through the basement door, she turned ran up the staircase. “Kaitlin!” she shouted knocking at the door.The blender turned on. Or was it the juicer? Both?The walls rattled.Pounding the door, over and over, her knuckles cracked open and splintered in red. Mrs. Hall kept knocking until her hands numbed and then she stopped.Exasperated, she slid to the floor with her back against the door, listening to each and every electrical appliance in the kitchen grind and whirl.Then basement lights went off. Darkness enveloped her. The grinding of the motors grew more deafening. “Kaitlin,” she whispered.Reading her watch, it was 9:00 PM, she hoped her husband and son would be home soon. She was sure Kaitlin was playing in her bedroom with the rabbits, two flights up, and being a very bad girl.There was no excuse for this. Even if Kaitlin wasn’t feeling well. “Kaitlin!” She knocked one last time. Her head fell back against the door, the whirling and grinding continued on the other side.And then, the house became silent.Everything stopped.Checking her watch, it was 9:30 PM.Something rustled under the pile of newspapers at the bottom of the steps. With the lights out, Mrs. Hall made her way down, one hand held the wall. The rabbits must be loose. “Kaitlin?”The lights went on.A willowy silhouette wavered. She screamed and raced up the steps and the basement door flew open just as she reached the top.“What were you doing down there?” It was Mr. Hall.“Harold!” They embraced. “Shut the door,” she ordered. “Where’s Kaitlin?”“She isn’t with you?” Mr. Hall said.“In her room!” She ran up to the second floor. “Kaitlin?”“Hi, Mom.” It was Jack.“Where’s Kate?”“Dunno?”“You didn’t see her?”Mr. Hall went from room to room calling her daughter’s name. Kaitlin’s room was empty. The lights were off.She hadn’t been here at all. Perspiration enclosed Mrs. Hall in the debilitating heat. A sickening malaise gripped her throat. In a panic and confused, she forced a breath. “We have to find her!”Harold checked under the furniture. “She must be hiding somewhere.”Mrs. Hall passed the large bay window that faced the woods. She caught a glimpse of her daughter’s pink dress and ran outside onto the deck. “Kaitlin!” Her daughter didn’t take any notice of her call and she was walking into the woods “Kaitlin!” Mrs. Hall repeated until she stood beside her. “What are you doing? Why aren’t you listening to me?”Kaitlin turned slowly. She was covered in mud and twigs.“What’s going on?” Mrs. Hall asked again.“He told me to set the rabbits free . . . in the woods.”“He?” She pulled her daughter close to her heart. “Is that where they are now? In the woods?”Kaitlin nodded, half-hidden under her mother’s embrace.Mrs. Hall sighed with relief and turned where her husband stood on the deck above the cellar’s back door.The lights were on and a dark shadow stood there.“He’s waiting for you,” her daughter said. “He has another request.”
The End*Okay, it was a little over 1k. :)
I wrote a collection of 1k slipstream/ speculative shorts a while back and decided to share them with you on my blog.
This collection is from SPACES and it's for readers of all ages. Each week I'll feature one story, where all the action takes place in one room/space.
1. A Cellar2. The Department Store3. An Office4. A Garage5. An Alley6. A Restaurant7. The Boat8. A Library9. The Woods10. The Computer
Today I bring you ...
The Cellar
“Momma. What’s that sound?” Kaitlin clutched her mother's arm.“I'm sure it's just the hockey gear in the cellar. Must have fallen again,” her mother assured her.Uneasy, Mrs. Hall stood from the couch and left her ten-year-old daughter watching TV. "It happens when the winds pick up in the mountains." It was their special night alone. Mr. Hall and Kaitlin’s brother were out watching a game. With the storm coming she expected them home soon.On a direct course for the basement near the kitchen, Mrs. Hall grabbed the handle and hesitated before turning the knob. Standing above the pit of darkness, she switched the light on. Then proceeded down the steps.“What is it, Momma?” Kaitlin waited at top of the stairs.“I’m sure it’s nothing. I’ll check on the rabbits, don’t worry.“Can I come down?”“Wait there and switch the light on if it goes out.”“Okaaay.”Kaitlin’s breath was heavy and labored. The humidity had brought on her asthma. Mrs. Hall padded down the fifteen steps to the bottom.The basement light went out. “Kaitlin!” her mother shouted. The faulty wire, again?“Got it!” The light was back.Ever since the Hall family had moved into 105 Essex, the blackouts were all too frequent. Not unheard of in the windy mountains of Western Pennsylvania. On some days, even without the wind, the lights went out.There were occasions when the neighbor’s lights went out during a storm, the lights at 105 Essex would still be on. Or vise-versa. It was almost as if 105 Essex had its own energy supply.At the bottom of the steps, Mrs. Hall tiptoed around the corner where the rabbits were busy munching. Not sure why she kept them in the basement instead of the art shack in the backyard. It was warmer there.The rabbits looked up with their usual nervous twitches. One finishing a carrot and not the least bit disturbed about anything unnatural.And then BANG!Mrs. Hall jumped.“Kaitlin, are you all right?”“Yes, Momma. Are Pinkie and Peppy, Okay?”Mrs. Hall searched among the junk in the cellar for the piece of furniture or athletic accessory that must have fallen. When she was satisfied all was fine, Mrs. Hall reached into the pen and picked up Pinkie, the white rabbit with brown patches.“Can I see the bunnies?” Kaitlin called down the steps. “Please?”“Sure, come on. Just watch your step.” “I’ve got, Pinkie.” Kaitlin scooped the rabbit up from her mother’s hands.“Not too long,” her mother said, “Your asthma’s already kicking up.”Kaitlin nodded. “And Peppy, I don’t want you to get jealous.” She replaced Pinkie in favor of Peppy.Hearing another sound in the far corner, Mrs. Hall moved away from the pen, while Kaitlin talked to the rabbits.Not only did the new house enjoy its own light display, it often seemed to try its hand at redecorating, and favored the basement for its antics.As suspected, the skis had fallen on top of the hockey equipment set-aside for the season. Turning to see Kaitlin, movement caught her eye.But it was nothing, must have been her imagination.Lifting the skis, she was glad she’d moved the rabbits days ago. From her position, she couldn’t see Kaitlin or the rabbits.After she finished positioning the equipment, she passed the cellar window and found it open. “Must have been a raccoon,” she said turning the knob. The window squeaked shut. “There, that should keep them out.”Would raccoons hurt the rabbits? Mrs. Hall wondered. She made a mental note to move the bunnies out of the basement tomorrow morning.“Kaitlin?”Her daughter was gone and so were the rabbits. “Kaitlin, you can’t take the rabbits upstairs,” she called and trudged up the steps.“I didn’t put Edgar away. Could you bring the dog leash?” Mrs. Hall reached the top step and the basement door slammed shut. “Kaitlin, please open the door!” she shouted and turned the knob. It was locked. “Kaitlin!”The basement lights flickered. Not again. “Kaitlin! Open this door, right now!” Mrs. Hall knocked harder and harder.There was no answer.Racing down the basement steps, then across the room to the back exit she noticed the window she’d just closed was open. Her first thought: there’s a raccoon in the basement. “Ridiculous, raccoons cannot open windows.” Her heart raced. Mrs. Hall’s throat was dry and she coughed nearly choking on the air.She lifted the metal bar across the basement door. It leads to the back yard. But she could not push the door open.She was trapped. Mrs. Hall banged against the door with the full weight of her body.Who would hear her out back? It was woodland for miles?Kaitlin wasn’t answering. She must have gone to her bedroom to play with the rabbits.Sweat rose over Mrs. Hall’s lip. The basement was stifling enough, and it was humid, she couldn’t breathe. As though oxygen was being siphoned out of the basement.Unable to leave through the basement door, she turned ran up the staircase. “Kaitlin!” she shouted knocking at the door.The blender turned on. Or was it the juicer? Both?The walls rattled.Pounding the door, over and over, her knuckles cracked open and splintered in red. Mrs. Hall kept knocking until her hands numbed and then she stopped.Exasperated, she slid to the floor with her back against the door, listening to each and every electrical appliance in the kitchen grind and whirl.Then basement lights went off. Darkness enveloped her. The grinding of the motors grew more deafening. “Kaitlin,” she whispered.Reading her watch, it was 9:00 PM, she hoped her husband and son would be home soon. She was sure Kaitlin was playing in her bedroom with the rabbits, two flights up, and being a very bad girl.There was no excuse for this. Even if Kaitlin wasn’t feeling well. “Kaitlin!” She knocked one last time. Her head fell back against the door, the whirling and grinding continued on the other side.And then, the house became silent.Everything stopped.Checking her watch, it was 9:30 PM.Something rustled under the pile of newspapers at the bottom of the steps. With the lights out, Mrs. Hall made her way down, one hand held the wall. The rabbits must be loose. “Kaitlin?”The lights went on.A willowy silhouette wavered. She screamed and raced up the steps and the basement door flew open just as she reached the top.“What were you doing down there?” It was Mr. Hall.“Harold!” They embraced. “Shut the door,” she ordered. “Where’s Kaitlin?”“She isn’t with you?” Mr. Hall said.“In her room!” She ran up to the second floor. “Kaitlin?”“Hi, Mom.” It was Jack.“Where’s Kate?”“Dunno?”“You didn’t see her?”Mr. Hall went from room to room calling her daughter’s name. Kaitlin’s room was empty. The lights were off.She hadn’t been here at all. Perspiration enclosed Mrs. Hall in the debilitating heat. A sickening malaise gripped her throat. In a panic and confused, she forced a breath. “We have to find her!”Harold checked under the furniture. “She must be hiding somewhere.”Mrs. Hall passed the large bay window that faced the woods. She caught a glimpse of her daughter’s pink dress and ran outside onto the deck. “Kaitlin!” Her daughter didn’t take any notice of her call and she was walking into the woods “Kaitlin!” Mrs. Hall repeated until she stood beside her. “What are you doing? Why aren’t you listening to me?”Kaitlin turned slowly. She was covered in mud and twigs.“What’s going on?” Mrs. Hall asked again.“He told me to set the rabbits free . . . in the woods.”“He?” She pulled her daughter close to her heart. “Is that where they are now? In the woods?”Kaitlin nodded, half-hidden under her mother’s embrace.Mrs. Hall sighed with relief and turned where her husband stood on the deck above the cellar’s back door.The lights were on and a dark shadow stood there.“He’s waiting for you,” her daughter said. “He has another request.”
The End*Okay, it was a little over 1k. :)
May 10, 2019
Is This Progress?
Hello, Everyone!
New York City is finally warming and moving out of the 40-50 degrees drizzly-slump. I enjoy those overcast days when I have no temptation to run out into the sun, instead of keeping my rump seated until my writing quota is met. I find that with so many distractions in my life if I can get the writing in first, I’m much more settled for the rest of the day.
Photo by me at the NYC Hudson River Park.
I’m busy writing and rewriting book two of my canceled Middle Grade, Science Fantasy, while waiting to hear about an R&R and a couple full requests for my YA Historical Fantasy. I’ve also been sending out short story submissions. I have to keep all my plates spinning! I put another SFF draft on hold after about fifty pages when I received notes for the Revise & Resubmit.
The agent who sent the R&R, asked for another if I’m inclined to do so. She’s awesome, and gave me detailed notes on the first 60 pages! So – yeah, I’m eager and looking forward to tackling this R&R again, especially with her professional suggestions. I originally drafted this story in Omni, (NaNoWriMo) then rewrote the tenses, and POV, and changed it again.
I’m nearing completion on a round of revisions for my MG novel, and once I send it off to beta-readers, I’ll jump back into my YA Historical, Fantasy edits.
Sometimes I have to write a lot of wrongs before the right way exposes itself. At least I keep moving. Ha! Some distance helps find the humor in this relentless process.
Oh, and one other thing, the Publisher of THE UNMOVING SKY, is closing. Another small press shutting its doors. I will get my rights back, but I’m so unsure of what to do next. Considering this is my second fiasco with a publisher, I really, really, begging you, Universe, for a wonderful, compatible, hard working agent. A good agent will help protect you in this business.
New York City is finally warming and moving out of the 40-50 degrees drizzly-slump. I enjoy those overcast days when I have no temptation to run out into the sun, instead of keeping my rump seated until my writing quota is met. I find that with so many distractions in my life if I can get the writing in first, I’m much more settled for the rest of the day.
Photo by me at the NYC Hudson River Park. I’m busy writing and rewriting book two of my canceled Middle Grade, Science Fantasy, while waiting to hear about an R&R and a couple full requests for my YA Historical Fantasy. I’ve also been sending out short story submissions. I have to keep all my plates spinning! I put another SFF draft on hold after about fifty pages when I received notes for the Revise & Resubmit.
The agent who sent the R&R, asked for another if I’m inclined to do so. She’s awesome, and gave me detailed notes on the first 60 pages! So – yeah, I’m eager and looking forward to tackling this R&R again, especially with her professional suggestions. I originally drafted this story in Omni, (NaNoWriMo) then rewrote the tenses, and POV, and changed it again.
I’m nearing completion on a round of revisions for my MG novel, and once I send it off to beta-readers, I’ll jump back into my YA Historical, Fantasy edits.
Sometimes I have to write a lot of wrongs before the right way exposes itself. At least I keep moving. Ha! Some distance helps find the humor in this relentless process.
Oh, and one other thing, the Publisher of THE UNMOVING SKY, is closing. Another small press shutting its doors. I will get my rights back, but I’m so unsure of what to do next. Considering this is my second fiasco with a publisher, I really, really, begging you, Universe, for a wonderful, compatible, hard working agent. A good agent will help protect you in this business.
March 22, 2019
MG Book Review: Charlie Hernández and the League of Shadows
Charlie Hernández and the League of Shadows by Ryan CalejoMy rating: 5 of 5 stars
Reposted from my review on Kidliterati.
Charlie Hernandez’s parents are gone. While waiting at child services for placement, he discovers tiny horns sprouting from his head and recalls the stories his abuela told him night after night, especially those about the Morphling, the myth about a young hero who always defeats his nemesis—an evil twice-cursed witch—by manifesting some kind of an animal trait.
But those were just made up stories.
No longer sleeping at the police station, he’s placed temporarily with the elderly doll collector, Mrs. Wilson, and just when life begins to feel normal again, feathers sprout up all over his body—at middle school! Thinking fast, Charlie ditches into the office and finds a long-sleeve sparkly snow jacket in the lost and found. Wearing a ski jacket during the afternoon in Miami shouldn’t bring any unwanted attention.
Then he runs into Alice-the-Terrible, 6-foot-tall-fastball-crushing all-state softball player—and she wants the locket he’s wearing. The one thing he has left of his mother’s.
Not while Violet Rey is around—super-sleuth-school-newspaper-reporter—with the megawatt smile stops Alice in her tracks. The same girl he’s crushed on since first grade. Turns out, Violet has admired Charlie’s father, the animal geneticist, ever since his presentation on the harm in breeding dogs, she even used it for the school paper. Violet is very curious about his mother’s locket and knows it’s an antique (her father owns a pawn shop). Is there anything Violet doesn’t know? But it’s locked and Charlie’s unable to open it. Violet has a look and it clicks open in seconds. Inside, they find a miniature map, with the same horns and feather insignia Charlie sees everywhere.
Together, they make an unlikely team, and go underground with the tiny map, in search of answers to where Charlie’s parents are, and they come face to face with supernatural villains, myths and folklore from all over the Spanish-speaking world.
Conversations with a calaca, and La Llorona, the weeping woman, after following the glowing orbs of La Luz Mala, deep into the woods, among many others. Charlie discovers the stories his abuela told him were true. Was she preparing him?
An exciting, fast-paced Middle Grade adventure! With friends standing up for each other and working together. I loved Violet’s character and the skills she has when they’re needed and Charlie’s self-deprecating humor. Rich in cultural mythology, and so much fun! For further study of these fascinating tales, the glossary of Spanish folklore is a good starting point. Perfect for fans of Percy Jackson, or anyone who loves magic, adventure, and tracking down a mystery.
View all my reviews
February 25, 2019
YA Book Review: What the Woods Keep by Katya de Becerra
What the Woods Keep by Katya de BecerraMy rating: 5 of 5 stars
Reposted from my review on The Kidliterati Blog.
Hayden has just turned eighteen, and she’s living on her own for the first time, when she gets a call about the will her mother left. Though her mother is technically missing, not dead.
“My mother remains elusive, in the periphery of my vision—there and not-there, dead and alive, like Schrödinger’s theoretical cat, its state altering the moment I focus on it. It’s been a decade since I last heard Mom’s voice …”
The dreams of her wearing full body armor and riding a horse while leading an army through the fog and ravaged cities, crying We’ll rise again have returned, and what’s with the white ravens that keep appearing in her dreams and real life? Hayden has a lot of questions.
It’s suggested that she keep mum about the will and not mention anything to her father, which may not be difficult considering he’s a physicist with his head buried always in his work. Even though he’d lost his tenure, due to outrageous claims about Nibelungs and multi-dimensional pathways and string theory.
Thank goodness, for her roommate, Del Chauvet, French-Senegalese Brooklynite, and her constant determination to give her a makeover or find her a date, especially since the last one left Hayden stranded. But Del has something special planned for her 18th birthday.
Memories and whispers in a foreign tongue, and Hayden’s mother watching from behind the dark trees surrounding her childhood home wearing a sad smile, as if she knows what’s coming. Hayden’s therapist, Dr. Erich reminds Hayden that those memories are long gone. But Hayden needs answers.
Hiding the will from her father, Hayden and Del leave their Brooklyn apartment to visit her childhood home in Promise, Colorado, and search for the gifts her mother left with the cryptic message:
She needs to listen with her blood. My second condition is that Hayden uses my gifts to destroy my darkest secret—my hidden treasure, my heaviest burden.
When Hayden struggles to understand, she interprets things using theoretical physics, and the author does this beautifully at the start of each chapter with musings of the metaphysical, the forces of gravity, and Murphy’s Law, and how it relates to Hayden’s life.
My kind of genre-mash-up, that twists urban fantasy and science fiction with the creepy factor that comes with a dark woodland mystery along with a gripping pace and self-sacrificing friendships. Quite unlike anything I’ve read before. I’d recommend this book for mature YA readers.
View all my reviews
What the Woods Keep by Katya de BecerraMy rating: 5 of 5 ...
What the Woods Keep by Katya de BecerraMy rating: 5 of 5 stars
Reposted from my review on The Kidliterati Blog.
Hayden has just turned eighteen, and she’s living on her own for the first time, when she gets a call about the will her mother left. Though her mother is technically missing, not dead.
“My mother remains elusive, in the periphery of my vision—there and not-there, dead and alive, like Schrödinger’s theoretical cat, its state altering the moment I focus on it. It’s been a decade since I last heard Mom’s voice …”
The dreams of her wearing full body armor and riding a horse while leading an army through the fog and ravaged cities, crying We’ll rise again have returned, and what’s with the white ravens that keep appearing in her dreams and real life? Hayden has a lot of questions.
It’s suggested that she keep mum about the will and not mention anything to her father, which may not be difficult considering he’s a physicist with his head buried always in his work. Even though he’d lost his tenure, due to outrageous claims about Nibelungs and multi-dimensional pathways and string theory.
Thank goodness, for her roommate, Del Chauvet, French-Senegalese Brooklynite, and her constant determination to give her a makeover or find her a date, especially since the last one left Hayden stranded. But Del has something special planned for her 18th birthday.
Memories and whispers in a foreign tongue, and Hayden’s mother watching from behind the dark trees surrounding her childhood home wearing a sad smile, as if she knows what’s coming. Hayden’s therapist, Dr. Erich reminds Hayden that those memories are long gone. But Hayden needs answers.
Hiding the will from her father, Hayden and Del leave their Brooklyn apartment to visit her childhood home in Promise, Colorado, and search for the gifts her mother left with the cryptic message:
She needs to listen with her blood. My second condition is that Hayden uses my gifts to destroy my darkest secret—my hidden treasure, my heaviest burden.
When Hayden struggles to understand, she interprets things using theoretical physics, and the author does this beautifully at the start of each chapter with musings of the metaphysical, the forces of gravity, and Murphy’s Law, and how it relates to Hayden’s life.
My kind of genre-mash-up, that twists urban fantasy and science fiction with the creepy factor that comes with a dark woodland mystery along with a gripping pace and self-sacrificing friendships. Quite unlike anything I’ve read before. I’d recommend this book for mature YA readers.
View all my reviews
January 28, 2019
January 14, 2019
YA Book Review: Ignite the Stars by Maura Milan
Ignite the Stars by Maura MilanMy rating: 5 of 5 stars
Reposted from my review on Kidliterati
Year 8922.
Ia Cocha: Sovereign of Dead Space, Rogue of the Fringe Planets, Blood Wolf of the Skies, the most dangerous criminal in Commonwealth history, and she’s seventeen.
Feared by all—except for maybe the refugees she’s saved in several battles across the universe, among them: the Dvvinn, the Juorti, Makolian, and the Tawnies, all refugees of the Commonwealth, and they’re discriminated against.
Student Brinn Tarver discovers the Blood Wolf is a girl just like her. Brinn hides her identity and her blue refugee hair to blend in with the Commonwealth, or risk persecution. Even if her mother doesn’t hide her blue Tawny hair anymore, Brinn isn’t ready to expose her secret. “She might be a Citizen, but that didn’t matter—the prejudice still exited.”
When Ia Cocha is captured by the Commonwealth and sentenced to fight with the Royal Star Force, she becomes Brinn’s roommate. Brinn is outraged, but soon learns they have much in common, even a brother they’d die for.
We meet Knives, the head flight instructor of the Royal Star Force and son of the cruel General Adams. He carries a deep sadness and Ia Cocha is drawn to him.
Ia Cocha makes a deal with the General to set the Tawny refugees free as she fights for the RSF, where she can survey the entire space academy, its uranium core, and send blueprints to her brother while awaiting rescue. But things don’t go as planned, and Ia has to accept the harm she’s brought to others.
Written from three POV’s, this book is fast paced—you’ll rip through the All Black, view the stars and spaceships—and Ia Cocha is a force to be reckoned with, so is Brinn, both fierce women with death-defying skills. Some of the best action scenes I’ve read, and with its outstanding pace and gripping tension, you’ll fly through this book. There are protests, propaganda, and The Sanctuary Act. The plight of the Commonwealth refugees, as they fight for justice, and a home, parallels the struggle refugees face today.
View all my reviews
January 4, 2019
Protest As Performance Art?
That's my definition of the type of daily protest I've been doing over the last two years through our National Nightmare while living and trying to breathe with a Kremlin installed POTUS.
Whether riding my bike with signs.
Wearing protest buttons every day.
Stepping in for our most vulnerable citizens and calling out bigotry or injustice -- even if you have to fight family members and I have. (no photo for this one)
Calling out criminal behavior by sending postcards to the White House.
Standing my ground when men (with privilege) bowl past me while I'm jogging, (as if I'm the one who should move) or when they shout obscenities while I'm riding my bicycle thinking they're the bike path police. And when they speak over you --- speak even louder! I live with three boys and getting a lot of practice with this.
Or Protesting. How many protests have we gone to over the last two years? I've shared photos of those I've attended in previous posts.
This is from the NYC #TaxMarch in February 2017!
And a myriad of other more personal ways to protest or call out injustice in daily life. And I've never been one to keep my mouth shut. Not in real life.
Because, ultimately, this is what I believe:
In the haste of writing this post during the day-job hours, I may have forgotten a few ideas. I'll return to add those later.
What are a few ways you've protested when you've come up against injustice? Because unfortunately, this isn't going to end soon enough. We have to stay vigilant and protect our most vulnerable citizens! Even after Dump45 leaves our White House.
"If we want peace we have to fight for justice."
Fill the recesses of hate throughout this country with compassion and unity, with kindness and understanding. ~ those to me, mean love. And LOVE Rules. Stay Strong kind-hearted friends, this fight for justice isn't over yet. Make your daily living a protest by speaking out, standing up, and protecting each other.
AND ...
December 26, 2018
MG Book Review: Dactyl Hill Squad by Daniel José Older
Dactyl Hill Squad by Daniel José OlderMy rating: 5 of 5 stars
Reposted from my review on Kidliterati.
It’s 1863 at the Colored Orphan Asylum in New York City. Magdalys Roca is not listening to the matron who insists on caller her by the wrong name. Magdalys only answers to her real name, the way her brother said it, like a song, the brother who’s now fighting in the Union Army.
But the Triceratops is waiting to take her and the other orphan children to the Zanzibar Theater to see the only all-black Shakespearean company in New York perform the Tempest. Magdalys decides she not going to allow the matron’s stubbornness have her miss out.
“It was only a few years ago that New York passed a law granting black citizens the right to dinoride.”
Dinosaurs are everywhere. Iguanodons extinguish lanterns before the dawn. Commuter brachys. Stegosaurs lug supplies and microraptors deliver messages, while most of the trikes and raptors have been sent south to the Confederates.
“Magdalys had no idea why anyone would want to keep her from dinoriding just because of the color of her skin.”
On the way to the theater, Magdalys is surprised when she discovers the dinosaur listened to her. That it can hear her thoughts! But she’s keeping it a secret for now.
A riot breaks out and the theater is torched. Pandemonium in the streets, people are murdered, people Magdalys cares about. She narrowly escapes with her life and a few others. But there are more orphans to save before the Kidnappers Club sends south to be sold into slavery. Magdalys and the others barely escape and soon find friends in Brooklyn who will help them rescue the captured children and stop the worldwide kidnapping ring.
“They weren’t just abandoned orphans anymore — they were part of something.”
What a magnificent and wild ride! True events are written within an alternative historical setting, with maps of early New York City. A fun and absorbing way to learn about history and experience the joy of riding dinosaurs to combat evil.
View all my reviews
