Kelly Jensen's Blog, page 142

September Girls by Bennett Madison

Sometimes when there is a book that everyone is talking about negatively -- and giving good reasons why they're responding negatively to it -- I find myself wanting to do nothing more than actually read that book for myself. Even if it's not something I'd normally read.





Enter September Girls by Bennett Madison.





Sam, his brother Jeff, and their father are spending the summer away from their home in the Northeast and at the Outer Banks in North Carolina. It's been a rough year for the family. Sam's mom recently decided to abandon them in order to find herself in Woman Land. According to Sam, she'd gotten some ideas from Facebook and Farmville and something called the SCUM Manifesto and needed to get away for a while. Sam's dad is kind of there and not there at the same time. Part of it is the fact he's just been abandoned by his long-time wife with two boys, of course. Part of why he wants to get away is to give him bonding time with his kids and to give Sam specifically the opportunity to have that one last summer of freedom. And Jeff, who is the older brother, is bent on making sure Sam has the kind of summer he will never forget. The Outer Banks is filled with amazing, gorgeous, luscious, and available girls. Jeff sees this as Sam's opportunity to lose his virginity and do so without the messy strings that can happen with relationships.





Plus, that's Jeff's plan anyway.





The girls in this summer place are indeed magical. They all look similar to one another, and they're all gorgeous. Everywhere Sam goes, there's another beautiful lady, and everywhere he goes, he's approached by these beautiful ladies. They're practically throwing themselves at him. But Sam's not drawn to them for their looks. In fact, he pushes himself not to be drawn to them at all, until he meets Dee Dee. Dee Dee is rough. She's not pleasant. She talks in one hand about how well she knows the Bible and professes this knowledge through sharing with Sam the names of all of the "hos" in it. He can't stop caring about her though, even when other girls are clamoring for a slice of his attention.





But what is it about these girls? Why are they so attracted to Sam? Why are they so attractive? And how come they never leave this place?





That's where this story goes from what many have called a misogynistic tale to one that's actually quite brilliant. Because these aren't average girls. These are sirens, and it's their duty to throw themselves at virgin males in hopes of being released from the spell that forces them to live and dwell and vie for attention in this place. Interspersed within Sam's story are the songs of the sirens -- there's a little back story into why it is they're stuck here, into who created them, into their legends. There's nothing particularly answered about their origin, but that's sort of the point. They don't know. All they know are the stories they hear about how they can break free. They call themselves sisters, as well as the Girls. The belief is that it's through sex with a male virgin, and that's why so many want Sam. They know.





When Dee Dee suggests that Sam help her Sister break free, telling him it is okay to lose his virginity to another girl in the event it might set her free from the place that is killing her, Sam considers it. But he doesn't do it. He wrestles with this in part because he wants to help Dee Dee's sister since Dee Dee wants that, but he wrestles with it, too, since it's not who he is at his core.





September Girls is about a boy becoming a man.





It is about breaking through this pressures thrust upon teen boys to "become a man."





It is about learning where your values lie and what your own judgments are in seeing other people and in helping them.





Sam is dealt incredibly mixed messages about women. He's seen his mother struggle with what it means to be a wife and a mother and feel like her place in the world is something greater than either of those. He's told by his dad he needs to have a fun summer, and he's told by his brother that he needs to get laid this summer in order to prove his manhood. Plus, the ladies here are easy. And available. And good looking. And isn't that all that matters? Dee Dee, too, feeds Sam messages about women and their roles because of what she is and what it is she believes she herself is tied to. She's a siren. She's beautiful and ephemeral and she doesn't get to have the experiences that other women do -- not those in magazine advertisements or on television (the Girls choose their names based on what they experience when in the world believing that Commercial Feminized Things are of value) -- nor those which the women in the Bible have -- that's why she sees them all as "hos." Sam's best friend at home feeds him messages too, as his summer is also about conquest. It's about reminding Sam that his duty as a man is to become a Man by collecting sexual experiences under his belt and doing so without over thinking it. When Dee Dee tells Sam she should sleep with her sister in order to set her free, that's the moment Sam realizes his well of feelings for Dee Dee. For their emotional relationship.





And it's in that moment when he himself is set free.





It's when he becomes a man.





There's also a really nice tie in about mirrors and reflections that knot together the real-world elements of Sam's narrative with those siren songs and legends. Freedom is in facing yourself as you are when you see it and not worrying about the things cast upon you as your destiny.





Madison writes a pretty powerful novel here, and he does so in a way that's quite jarring. Sam's not your most likable character, and much of his time is kind of . . . boring. He tells us how much TV he watches. How many walks on the beach he takes. He's downright crass and his brother is ten times worse. There is no doubt that the language used in this book is hard to read and process and that the messages about women and what their role is in the world is hard to digest. But that is the entire point. This is a book about Sam cutting through those horrible messages society feeds people and figuring out what it is that matters to him. Because the messages that are offensive aren't just geared toward females. They're offensive toward men, too. To "be a man," Sam's told it's his duty to sleep with a woman. That even if things look like they're permanent, women will just leave men if they're not proving their worth enough (see Sam's mom).





The mirror is held up to the readers in this book to examine themselves in light of these precise messages, too.





These characters are flawed and those flaws are in your face. And isn't it telling that readers see those flaws in others and sometimes misses them in themselves?





September Girls definitely has guy appeal, and it's for those readers who like magical realism and fairy tale. I saw it pitched as a mermaid tale for boys, and that's a pretty good assessment. There's definitely female appeal here, too. But while I think what Madison says in this book is really smart and savvy and does precisely the opposite of what many readers are claiming it does (this book spins misogyny on its head by using those messages to make the point), this book wasn't as satisfying as I hoped. I found it boring at times. The writing is simply okay, and I thought that Sam's cataloging of his days -- while effective to the message -- was uninteresting. It felt like this could have used a little more time to become stronger and more compelling, and it's not necessarily a book I will eagerly pass off to readers. It's not that it's bad. It's just that it's a bit flat and has a narrow readership who will put in the time and energy to come out with the big take aways. I think some of that is evidenced in reviews around the web -- and that's not a slight on any reader taking the story as they need to, but instead, I think, a sign that the book didn't necessarily achieve all it set out to through the writing.





"Summer" here is symbolic of adolescence. It's that time between being fresh and in bloom in spring and finding a comfortable, settled pattern that comes with fall. It's about exploration and excitement. It's about testing the waters. About pushing yourself and your boundaries. And I think Madison gives that to Sam with a nice dose of reality coming through the messages about what it means to be a person. Not just a man. Not just a woman. But a person who wants to establish meaningful relationships.








Review copy received from Lenore. September Girls is available now. 

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Where you can see me at ALA in Chicago

Are you going to ALA next week? I'll be there, and I'd love to see you.





I'm presenting twice this year:





All About ARCs: The Ins and Outs of Requesting, Using, and Abusing Advanced Readers Copies (ARCs)





Saturday, June 28 @ 10:30 - 11:30 a.m., McCormick Place Room S103d





Presenters: Liz Burns, Kristi Chadwick, and myself, with Jen Childs and Victoria Stapleton





This presentation is a straight result of everything relating to ARCGate last summer. You'll get a chance to hear about the results of the survey we took about ARCs and their use from librarians, teachers, bloggers, and others (we had nearly 500 responses), and you'll hear straight from two publishing representatives who will talk about why and how they make the choices they do about ARC distribution.





Unfortunately, due to a committee obligation, I won't be able to linger after the presentation to answer questions or talk further. But I will be happy to field questions or thoughts either on the blog (there will be a post with accompanying information) or in person later.








New Adult Fiction: What is it and is it really happening?





Monday, July 1 @ 9:15 - 10, McCormick Place Room S102D





Presenters: Sophie Brookover, Liz Burns, and myself





Ready to hear about "New Adult" fiction? This is a conversation starter that will be more about talking about the idea of "NA" fiction than it will be trying to define something. That's the point of a conversation starter. That said, those who come will walk away with ideas about this category of books, what's being published as "NA" right now, what we consider to be "NA" titles already available, and why serving readers who want these stories is important. When we put together our notes for this presentation, there were charts made. It should be lively.








I'm extremely excited about both of these presentations. It's not just that they've been topics of interest for a while now. But there's something special about presenting at a convention center that you went to many times as a child -- I grew up near Chicago, and I went to a few trade shows at McCormick as a kid. To be able to present there now? It's really neat.
















If you're around on Friday night at ALA, I highly encourage you to come to the official meetup that is sponsored by STACKED, YA Highway, and the Chicago Kid Lit Drink Night folks. It's free and casual, but it is 21 and over since it's at a bar. I should be there for much of the event, though I may duck out early since I have another thing that night, too. But if you see me, introduce yourself!








The rest of my ALA plans involve a lot of committee time, among other obligations. I have a little more flexibility to check out exhibits at this ALA, compared to at Midwinter.

             

The Half-way Point: Our Predictions for Morris & Printz Contenders

Every year, twice a year, we like to make predictions about the books which we think will get some attention or thoughtful consideration for the YALSA Morris Award (first a debut novel) and the Printz award. There's something fun about making guesses when the year is half over and then reconsidering those guesses or adding new ones when it's almost award time in January.





So following in tradition, here's what we're thinking about at the midway point for this year's Morris and Printz awards. Of course, we're eager to hear where you agree or disagree with us and what titles you might offer up in either or both of the categories. We want to bulk up what's on our radars!





Kelly's Thoughts





Morris Award





Since I've been doing so much committee reading lately, I haven't read quite as many debut novels as I hoped I would. I've been keeping an eye on them, for sure, and I've been reading a number of reviews, both from the trade journals and from the blogging world. Here's what I'm thinking about in terms of the Morris. All of these happen to be books I have read so far this year. I have a pile (both physical and mental) of other debuts I want to look into before the end of the year, so I suspect this list will change and grow come January.













Charm & Strange by Stephanie Kuehn: This dark, dark contemporary is so tightly written and compelling that it should merit a lot of committee discussion. The story is great and appealing to readers, and the writing itself is stand out.





Dr. Bird's Advice for Sad Poets by Evan Roskos: The humor in this one is what makes it memorable for me, though the writing is strong and the story compelling. This one has mega teen appeal to it, too.





Rapture Practice by Aaron Hartzler: This memoir for teens is one of the first YA non-fiction titles I've read and really enjoyed. It's funny, real, honest, and it's fair in how it portrays growing up in a conservative, religious household when you don't necessarily believe in the things your parents do.
















Uses for Boys by Erica Lorraine Scheidt: This is probably my top pick for the Morris this year. Scheidt racked up a number of starred reviews for this book, and it's one that really delivers both in story and in writing. It's a memorable read with a long, slow burn.





Wild Awake by Hilary T. Smith: It's interesting to me that I've now listed three books that feature mental illness in some capacity as my top contenders for the Morris. Smith's debut has great teen appeal to it (which is an element of the Morris committee's consideration) and the writing sings.





I think there will definitely be some discussion over Emily Murdoch's If You Find Me , as well, but I think it might fall short. It's possible I'm projecting my own issues concerning voice with that book, but I think it's a fair criticism. That said, if Murdoch's book did see a slot on the Morris list in December, I wouldn't be surprised, either. One of the reasons I do love the Morris so much is because it's not necessarily about a perfect book. It's about those books which compel you as a reader to look forward to the second book because the first was so strong.





I haven't read Laura Lam's Pantomime but it's garnered some nice reviews, and I might put that up there as titles to consider. Let's also throw in Elizabeth LaBan's The Tragedy Paper and maybe Sarah McCarry's All Our Pretty Songs (though I have some reservations in terms of this being the first in a series, rather than a stand alone, and not because I don't think series starters can be Morris-contenders -- just I don't know whether this one was necessary to be a series).





Printz Award





I feel like I am even further behind in reading thinking about the Printz, but I might not be. I actually think this is a pretty weak year for literary standouts. That's not to say it's a bad year, but I haven't had a lot of books stand out to me as Printz-worthy titles quite yet. As you'll see when I get into some of my picks, I haven't read them all yet but have plans to get to them very soon in order to reassess my guesses.





For anyone who loves checking out starred reviews and considering these awards in light of them, make sure you bookmark and follow Jen's regularly-updated spreadsheet of starred reviews. I am so impressed with her dedication to this.
















17 & Gone by Nova Ren Suma: My top pick. This is such an incredible book, and upon reread, it became even more incredible and nuanced. This book has layers upon layers, and it blurs genre lines in a way that serves and elevates the story. And there's no question Suma can write.





Black Helicopters by Blythe Woolston: This book challenged me when I read it. And I read it three times before it came together for me. For being under 200 pages, this packs a punch and begs for discussion. There's a lot to unravel here, and Woolston's proven herself a worthy writer.





Orleans by Sherri L. Smith: I haven't read this one yet, but I've seen it garnering quite a bit of buzz as a potential Printz title. After spending time reading the reviews and checking out the description, I'm curious enough to pick it up, even though it's not necessarily one I normally would. It's dystopian, set in New Orleans, and it sounds like it's got a lot of basis in realistic, eco disasters. Also, I like the descriptions calling the main character a "fierce heroine."










All the Truth That's In Me by Julie Berry: I'm going to blog about this one closer to release date, but it is pretty good! It's a story of a girl who was stolen from home (which happens to be a cult-like existence, somewhat Puritanical, in a non-disclosed historical time period) and who had her tongue cut out. She loses her voice completely. And when she's brought back to her home, no one wants to listen to her. She has no voice, even if she has the clues to unraveling a big local secret. The book's first half felt derivative to me, BUT the second half of the book is intense and memorable and has a pretty powerful message about girls and the voice/authority/value they are seen to have in the world. The publisher's definitely angling this as their award book (read this PW article) and it's garnered a Kirkus star already.





Midwinterblood by Marcus Sedgwick: I haven't read this one, but it's gathered every star possible, I believe. Those who have read it have praised it highly. I can't say it is one I'm going to rush to pick up, but I am keeping an eye on the buzz and discussion around it.





Winger by Andrew Smith: A million and twelve comparisons to Looking for Alaska can't be wrong, right? Kidding aside, Smith's novel is compelling, and it's memorable for its gut punch of an ending (not to mention awesome voice of Ryan Dean West). The problem might be in passage of time, as well as pacing, though.













Maggot Moon by Sally Gardner: I haven't read this dystopia yet, but it's sitting near the top of my to-read pile since it's a short one and it's garnered quite a bit of Printz buzz. All of the chapters are super short, too, so it looks like it could be one of those "deceptively short" reads (which I dig -- see Woolston's book above). This one's gotten a few stars from the trades, too.





Teeth by Hannah Moskowitz: This is the year of the kinda-sorta-magical mermaid stories. I haven't read this one yet though it's on my short list. Again, this one's gotten a couple of stars, and it's been popping up on a few Printz prediction lists I keep an eye on. I'm looking forward to reading this book because it's so outside my usual comfort zone.





A few other books I'm thinking about in terms of Printz -- maybe Sara Zarr's The Lucy Variations will see an appearance. It was super strong, both in terms of story and in terms of writing. I think there will be a lot of discusion for Rainbow Rowell's Eleanor & Park but -- and I know this might get me in trouble -- I don't know if it'll go the distance. It's well written and appealing, but the book really hasn't stayed with me since I read it. It's excellent, but is it enduring? I suspect many will argue yes, and I think that's fair. But for me, it hasn't stuck.





Out of the Easy collected a number of starred reviews this year, too, but I found it to be quite lacking in terms of writing and plot. It wasn't as good as Between Shades of Grey nor as memorable. It wasn't bad, but it wasn't great, either.





Frankly, I'd love to see a book like Scheidt's Uses for Boys be a serious contender for the Printz. I think it can and should be. But I often wonder if books like Scheidt's sometimes get short shrift in consideration for literary value because it is a story of a very broken girl, and it's realistic. That's not to say those books don't win awards or that the committee doesn't look at each book on its own merits (I know they do!), but I think those sorts of stories tend to do less well when it comes to literary awards like Printz. I know there's a whole other blog post or thesis in this, but it's one I've been thinking about quite a bit.





Kimberly's Thoughts





I haven't read any Printz or Morris-worthy books so far this year. That's not to say I haven't read a few knock-outs. I have. But for one reason or another, they're not contenders: publication date; intended audience; exciting plot but simply OK writing; excellent overall but with a few important weaknesses; and so on.





I think Kelly's done an excellent job discussing the contemporary/realistic books that may be considered for the awards so far, so I'd like to concentrate on the SFF ones I think may (or should) have a shot. I won't have read any of them - yet. But I plan to give most of them a read, and then review them here. I've actually never set out to read titles that I specifically feel may merit awards, so this is going to be a bit new for me. I think keeping my to-read list within the realm of books I tend to enjoy - science fiction and fantasy - will make it a fun, rather than onerous, project.





Morris Award










Splintered by A. G. Howard: This re-imagining/spinoff/inspiration baby of Alice in Wonderland has gotten a lot of positive reviews, and they compliment the writing in particular.





In the Shadow of Blackbirds by Cat Winters: I wasn't a big fan of this one, but I know plenty of people who are, and most of them point to the moody atmosphere Winters created. I wouldn't be surprised if it were shortlisted.





The Madman's Daughter by Megan Shepherd: This is a re-telling of the Island of Dr. Moreau from his daughter Juliet's point of view. Gory and creepy, it's also quite well-written (I've read the first few chapters).










Coda by Emma Trevayne: I'm pleasantly surprised by the positive attention Trevayne's debut has been getting, mainly because it's a dystopian-ish story, which seems on the outs critically these days. It's also a paperback original, not published by a Big Six publisher, and has been nominated for the Rainbow List. This is one to watch for, I think.





Thin Space by Jody Casella: I hadn't even heard of this book until I started poking around, looking for likely contenders. Casella's debut features SFF elements only peripherally, and judging from the synopsis, it's not quite clear if those elements are real or only in the protagonist's mind. What is clear (at least from the reviews I've read) is that Casella has a heck of a way of exploring what grief can do to a person.





All Our Yesterdays by Cristin Terrell: Another futuristic SF book with dystopian elements. It's garnered a star from Kirkus, pushing it to the top of my dystopia to-read list.





Printz Award










Midwinterblood by Marcus Sedgwick: Kelly mentioned this one already, but I feel like it merits another mention simply for the sheer number of starred reviews it's gotten - five. It probably goes without saying that I love it when SFF gets that kind of attention. It sounds pretty experimental, as well, and when done successfully, that seems to kill in awards.





The 5th Wave by Rick Yancey: This one's gotten huge buzz, and Yancey already has some Printz credit from The Monstrumologist. I love stories about aliens, so am definitely looking forward to checking it out.





Quintana of Charyn by Melina Marchetta: I started Finnikin of the Rock a few years ago, set it down, and then never picked it up again (except to return it to the library). I've read that the characters are real and flawed and complex and that the story will break your heart. I plan to give it another shot, particularly since it's so reminiscent of the high fantasy books I read as a teen myself: a huge, sweeping story with detailed geography and complex world-building.










The Summer Prince by Alaya Dawn Johnson: I love that this is set in a futuristic Brazil, that it's got some dystopian themes but also seems to forge its own path plot-wise. Reviews say this book's themes as well as strong writing make it one to watch.





Gorgeous by Paul Rudnick: This is actually one I've started reading, and I'm already excited about it at chapter 3. The voice is unique and very teen, but I'm even more excited about the premise. An average girl who considers herself unremarkable in every way is offered an incredible opportunity: a mysterious man who knew her mother tells her he can make her three dresses, and they'll transform her into the most gorgeous girl in the world - quite literally. I expect a lot of biting satire about advertising, materialism, and our looks-obsessed culture.





Mortal Fire by Elizabeth Knox: Knox already has some Printz cred with Dreamquake, which snagged an honor in 2008. I read the first chapter and am a bit lost so far, but I plan to persevere. Reviews call this novel complex as well as beautifully written, if a bit dense. For the Printz, dense isn't necessarily a bad thing.

            Related StoriesOur Printz Predictions for 2013 

Writing Duos, Or When Authors Team Up

Is it me or have there been more YA books recently that are co-authored? I'm not talking about short story collections, but rather, novels that are written by two authors. This isn't necessarily a new thing, but it's an interesting trend. I like reading these books because I like thinking about how two heads can come together for a single story, and I like thinking about whether or not I can tease out the individual voices of the authors or whether they're so seamless it's impossible to do so. 





Below are examples of YA writing teams and their books. I've included older titles, as well as books that are going to be out in the next few months. All descriptions come from WorldCat or Goodreads. Of course, if you can think of others, please chime in -- I'd love to build a nice list of coauthored novels and I know I'm going to miss some. My only request is that they be books that are traditionally published and available as print books (so not digital-only titles). I'm open to all genres! 



















Eve & Adam by Katherine Applegate and Michael Grant: While recuperating after a car accident in Spiker Biotech's lush San Francisco facilities, sixteen-year-old Evening Spiker meets Solo Plissken, a very attractive, if off-putting boy her age who spent his life at Spiker Biotech. Like Evening, he's never questioned anything ... until now. Solo drops hints to Evening that something isn't right, and Evening's mother may be behind it. Evening puts this out of her mind and begins her summer internship project: to simulate the creation of the perfect boy. With the help of Solo, Evening uncovers secrets so big they could change the world completely.





Burn for Burn by Jenny Han and Siobhan Vivian (first in series): Three teenaged girls living on Jar Island band together to enact revenge on the people that have hurt them. 





Just Like Fate by Cat Patrick and Suzanne Young (August 2013): Caroline is at a crossroads. Her grandmother is sick, maybe dying. Like the rest of her family, Caroline's been at Gram's bedside since her stroke. With the pressure building, all Caroline wants to do is escape--both her family and the reality of Gram's failing health. So when Caroline's best friend offers to take her to a party one fateful Friday night, she must choose: stay by Gram's side, or go to the party and live her life. The consequence of this one decision will split Caroline's fate into two separate paths--and she's about to live them both. Friendships are tested and family drama hits an all-new high as Caroline attempts to rebuild old relationships, and even make a few new ones. If she stays, her longtime crush, Joel, might finally notice her, but if she goes, Chris, the charming college boy, might prove to be everything she's ever wanted. Though there are two distinct ways for her fate to unfold, there is only one happy ending






















Naomi and Ely's No Kiss List by Rachel Cohn and David Levithan:  Although they have been friends and neighbors all their lives, straight Naomi and gay Ely find their relationship severely strained during their freshman year at New York University.





Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist by Rachel Cohen and David Levithan: High school student Nick O'Leary, member of a rock band, meets college-bound Norah Silverberg and asks her to be his girlfriend for five minutes in order to avoid his ex-sweetheart.





Will Grayson, will grayson by John Green and David Levithan: When two teens, one gay and one straight, meet accidentally and discover that they share the same name, their lives become intertwined as one begins dating the other's best friend, who produces a musical revealing his relationship with them both.



















Beautiful Creatures by Kami Garcia and Margie Stohl (first in series): In a small South Carolina town, where it seems little has changed since the Civil War, sixteen-year-old Ethan is powerfully drawn to Lena, a new classmate with whom he shares a psychic connection and whose family hides a dark secret that may be revealed on her sixteenth birthday.





Invisibility by Andrea Cremer and David Levithan: To break his curse of invisibility, a boy is helped by a girl, who is the only one who can see him. 





The Future of Us by Jay Asher and Carolyn Mackler: It's 1996, and less than half of all American high school students have ever used the Internet. Emma just got her first computer and Josh is her best friend. They power up and log on--and discover themselves on Facebook, fifteen years in the future. Everybody wonders what their Destiny will be. Josh and Emma are about to find out. 
















Roomies by Sara Zarr and Tara Altebrando (December 2013): While living very different lives on opposite coasts, seventeen-year-old Elizabeth and eighteen-year-old Lauren become acquainted by email the summer before they begin rooming together as freshmen at UC-Berkeley.





Second Impact by David Klass and Perri Klass (August 2013): When Jerry Downing, star quarterback in a small football town, gets a second chance after his drunk driving had serious consequences, Carla Jensen, ace reporter for the school newspaper, invites him to join her in writing a blog, mainly about sports.





Spoiled by Heather Cocks and Jessica Morgan (with a companion titled Messy): When her mother dies, sixteen-year-old Molly moves from Indiana to California, to live with her newly discovered father, a Hollywood megastar, and his pampered teenaged daughter. 



















Colin Fischer by Ashley Edward Miller and Zack Stentz: A boy with autism teams up with the high school bully to get to the bottom of a cafeteria crime. 





These Broken Stars by Amie Kaufman and Meagan Spooner (December 2013): Two star-crossed lovers must fight for survival when they crash land on a seemingly uninhabited planet. 








House of Night series by PC Cast and Kristin Cast: The House of Night series is set in a world very much like our own, except in 16-year-old Zoey Redbird's world, vampires have always existed. In this first book in the series, Zoey enters the House of Night, a school where, after having undergone the Change, she will train to become an adult vampire--that is, if she makes it through the Change. Not all of those who are chosen do. It's tough to begin a new life, away from her parents and friends, and on top of that, Zoey finds she is no average fledgling. She has been Marked as special by the vampire Goddess, Nyx. But she is not the only fledgling at the House of Night with special powers. When she discovers that the leader of the Dark Daughters, the school's most elite club, is misusing her Goddess-given gifts, Zoey must look deep within herself for the courage to embrace her destiny--with a little help from her new vampire friends.




















A Really Awesome Mess by Trish Cook and Brendan Halpin (July 2013): An angry girl and a depressed boy, both sixteen, are sent to a therapeutic boarding school.





Notes From the Blender by Trish Cook and Brendan Halpin: Two teenagers--a heavy-metal-music-loving boy who is still mourning the death of his mother years earlier, and a beautiful, popular girl whose parents divorced because her father is gay--try to negotiate the complications of family and peer relationships as they get to know each other after learning that their father and mother are marrying each other.






 







Love, Inc by Yvonne Collins and Sandy Rideout (who have written a number of books together): When three fifteen-year-old Austin, Texas, girls who met in group therapy discover that they are all dating the same boy, they first get revenge and then start a wildly successful relationship consulting business.





Another Faust (and Another Pan) by Daniel and Dina Nayeri: On a single night, five children suddenly vanish from their homes in Paris, Glasgow, Rome, and London. Years later, five enigmatic teenagers make an impressive entrance at an exclusive New York holiday party with their strange but beautiful governess, Madam Vileroy. Rumor and intrigue follow the Faust children to the elite Manhattan Marlowe School, where their very presence brings unexplainable misfortune. 








Can you think of any others to add to the list? 

            Related StoriesComplicated Father Relationships: A YA Reading ListThe Program by Suzanne YoungNeptune's Tears by Susan Waggoner 

So You Want to Read YA? Guest Post from Stephanie Kuehn (author of Charm and Strange)

This week's  guest post comes to us from recently-debuted author Stephanie Kuehn.










Stephanie Kuehn holds degrees in linguistics and sport psychology, and is currently working toward a doctorate in clinical psychology. She lives in Northern California with her husband, their three children, and a joyful abundance of pets. When she’s not writing, she’s running. Or reading. Or dreaming. Her debut young adult novel, CHARM & STRANGE, was published by St. Martin’s Press on 6.11.13. COMPLICIT will be published in 2014 (St. Martin’s Press).















Does
anybody else experience the world the way that I do?





Am
I really all alone in this?






It
wasn’t until I went away to college and took my first philosophy
course that I was able to put names and terms to some of the scary
and lonely-making questions that had been floating around inside my
head. But before that, back in high school, we didn’t talk about
philosophy, so the only times I felt understood in my fearful
loneliness was when I was reading.









It
was William Golding’s LORD OF THE FLIES that assured me I wasn’t
the only who doubted the nature of humanity (myself included); Robert
Cormier’s THE CHOCOLATE WAR that spoke to me, bleakly and honestly,
about the experience of helplessness; Joyce Sweeney’s CENTER LINE
that showed me what love is and what it isn’t; and both Daniel
Pinkwater’s YOUNG ADULT NOVEL and Gordon Korman’s DON’T CARE
HIGH that pointed out the ways irreverence and absurdity fill our
lives, reminding me that laughter is infinitely more enjoyable than
cynicism.






These
books didn’t necessarily address issues of philosophy in an
explicit way, but the concepts of individualism, determinism,
fatalism, humanism, and Dadaist surrealism were all there, woven into
the pages. I read these stories and knew I wasn’t alone in the
questions I was contemplating and the doubt I was feeling. So when
people today ask me why
YA? Or
what
makes YA different? My
answer is this: YA asks the questions. And it’s okay with not
knowing the answers.







Being
okay with not-knowing
is a skill that gets lost with adulthood. This is a shame, I think,
the stifling pressure us adults feel to always have the answers. But
tapping into this experience of not-knowing is precisely what makes
YA literature so special and raw and distinct. The stories you’ll
find in this section of the bookstore can be anything, but many of
them are deeply philosophical, yet filled with the vibrant
uncertainty of adolescence.







There’s
Janne Teller’s NOTHING, which uses direct, unflinching, and
evocative prose to narrate readers straight to the edge of the
existentialist abyss, while skillfully highlighting the uselessness
and meaninglessness of our daily lives along the way. More sweetly
and subtly, and with a hell of a lot of southern charm, John Corey
Whaley juxtaposes the search for meaning outside of oneself with
self-defined meaning in WHERE THINGS COME BACK. In 47, Walter Mosley
blends a multitude of genres and worlds, all while breaking down the
dichotomies of our zero-sum social order, as exemplified by the
poignant directive: “neither
master nor nigger be.”
For a stark look at balancing fear of the self against fear of living
in a world that’s frightening and violent, there’s Andrew Smith’s
THE MARBURY LENS. On the flip side, Kat Rosenfeld deftly examines the
fear of not
living
by exploring death, both literal and metaphoric, in AMELIA ANNE IS
DEAD AND GONE.






So
you want to read YA? Good. Sit down. Get comfortable. The questions
are profound; the possibilities are endless.















***









Stephanie Kuehn's debut novel Charm & Strange released this month. You can pick it up now (and it's fantastic)












            Related StoriesSo You Want to Read YA?: Guest Post from Colleen Mondor (Blogger & author)So You Want to Read YA?: Guest Post from Daisy Whitney (author of When You Were Here)So You Want to Read YA?: Guest Post from Author Kody Keplinger 

What I will tell you about my book

Remember how I've been working on a book about contemporary YA fiction for VOYA Press?





I've been not talking about it a whole lot because I don't think the process is all that interesting TO talk about. But after writing for the last many months, as well as revising for the last as many months, I have spent this weekend eating ice cream since I turned in a finished draft to my editor.





Rereading my initial post on the topic, I'm pleased that it's almost exactly the same vision I had when I started. If maybe not even a little bit better.





Things will likely change through editing and more revision, but it's not a thin little book. When I turned it in, it was roughly 95,000 words long. Which is a long book. I'm not sure how long, since it's in a few different pieces.





Do you have any idea how hard it is to write an introduction to a book? I've always been one of those people who reads them (a preface is another story...) but sitting down to actually write one might have been more challenging than any other part of the book. I didn't realize how hard writing a page and a half could be, but it was tough. And it's likely the most personal part of the book.





I know nothing more about the process from here, other than I'll know more when my editor gets the chance to read it all. I've sent her multiple "I hope you like it" emails over the course of the weekend, so if that's any sign, I'm really hopeful she's as pleased with it as I am. I am so grateful for the two lovely ladies who offered to read this for me, as I know their keen eyes and insight helped me sharpen some elements and tie my ideas into something more cohesive.





Writing a book is hard but it is also kind of fun. When things are more clear and I have a better idea of what this will look like as a finished product, I'll talk more about the challenges. But for now, I had to share that there is a finished draft, and I am quite happy with it. It does have a title, which is likely subject to change, but you can add it on Goodreads now, if you so desire.





I'd prepared myself, too, to hate contemporary fiction after. But I'm still finding it the genre I love most of all -- maybe even more now.

             

Complicated Father Relationships: A YA Reading List

Surely, someone in the book blogging world -- maybe even multiple people -- will share book lists featuring awesome dads this weekend. There have been a lot of really good dads, especially in contemporary YA lately. 





But, father's day conjures up less-than-awesome feelings for those of us who didn't grow up with cool dads or even present dads. Some of us like to read books where the relationship between the teen and his or her dad is complicated, troubled, or absent all together.





The following are recent releases -- published in the last couple of years -- which feature those fathers who aren't winning dad of the year. And it's not that they're all villains (though some are). Some are just missing. Some are not good at developing relationships with their teens. Sometimes they become better in the end and sometimes they don't. 





Because my reading tends toward contemporary, most of these books fall into the contemporary genre. I'd love to know about other "bad dads" in YA over the last two years, so feel free to dive in the comments. I take "bad dad" loosely, too. Feel free to include those dads who do come around to make strong relationships and feel free to include the worst offenders.





All descriptions are from WorldCat, with reviews linked where applicable.
















The Moon and More by Sarah Dessen: During her last summer at home before leaving for college, Emaline begins a whirlwind romance with Theo, an assistant documentary filmmaker who is in town to make a movie.





Dessen's book makes an important, IMPORTANT distinction between the idea of "dad" and the idea of "father." For Emaline, she's grown up knowing her dad. He's the guy who adopted her and married her mother. He's the one who has always been a part of her life. Her "father," on the other hand, is the one who is only biological to her. And while he's in and out of her life, he is in and out of her life. He contacts her when it's best for him. 





The biggest thing of this father-daughter relationship is Emaline's realization that her father is never going to change. He's always going to be an idiot when it comes to her. But what is important is in a single line Emaline shares, and that's that she hopes her father gives the love he never gave to her to his son, Benji. Because even if Emaline doesn't get the love from her father she should, it's almost more heartbreaking for her to think that her father can't at least give it to Benji. This is one of the few YA books I've ever related to the father-daughter relationship in, and it is going to stick with me for a long time because of just how painfully true it is.








Black Helicopters by Blythe Woolston: In a day-after-tomorrow Montana, fifteen-year-old Valley (now Valkyrie) and her big brother leave their underground den to fight a government that will kill them like coyotes.





Dear old dad is the entire reason Val is a bomb. He's got her believing in government conspiracy and he's hiding his true "job" from her -- he's a trafficker (of humans, maybe of drugs, maybe both). He also raised Val by teaching her to live in an underground den and always be fearful because the world is out to get you. 






















A Midsummer's Nightmare by Kody Keplinger: Suffering a hangover from a graduation party, eighteen-year-old Whitley is blindsided by the news that her father has moved into a house with his fiancée, her thirteen-year-old daughter Bailey, and her son Nathan, in whose bed Whitley had awakened that morning.





What father doesn't tell his own daughter he's moving out of his killer loft and into a new home? Or that he's gotten married? Or that he's married the mother of someone she goes to school with and -- surprise -- there's a new step brother now? 





I will give that Whitley's dad makes a nice turn around in the end, but that sort of blindsiding isn't going to win him a lot of favorite spots. 




Happy Families by Tanita S. Davis: In alternating chapters, sixteen-year-old twins Ysabel and Justin share their conflicted feelings as they struggle to come to terms with their father's decision to dress as a woman.





I'm including the Davis book not because Ysabel and Justin's father is bad. He's not. He's just a very conflicted character and his choices make a significant impact on his kids. Dad is trans and coming to terms with accepting himself while at the same time, his kids have to come to terms with the realization that their father isn't the person they thought he was, either, and that extends far beyond his sexuality. He's a complicated dad character because he no longer really wants the role of "dad." 

















Scowler by Daniel Kraus: In the midst of a 1981 meteor shower in Iowa, a homicidal maniac escapes from prison and returns to the farm where his nineteen-year-old son, Ry, must summon three childhood toys, including one called Scowler, to protect himself, his eleven-year-old sister, Sarah, and their mother.





Marvin is the worst father I have ever read in YA. He is out for nothing less than blood and destruction. I mean, there's a reason he was locked up in jail. The things he does when he escapes are nothing short of gut twisting. 








This is Not a Test by Courtney Summers: Barricaded in Cortege High with five other teens while zombies try to get in, Sloane Price observes her fellow captives become more unpredictable and violent as time passes although they each have much more reason to live than she has.





So Marvin in Kraus's book is terrible, just terrible, but Sloane's abusive dad is up there on the list of awful dads you don't want to have as your own, too. It's toast. He loses his mind over TOAST. There's a reason Sloane wants her life to end, and it ties back to dear old dad. 






















First Day on Earth by Cecil Castellucci: A startling novel about the true meaning of being an alien in an equally alien world.





The WorldCat description for Castellucci's book is pretty bad, since it doesn't tell you this is really a book about a kid learning to come to grips with the father who ditched him in order to start a new, fresh life with a new family. And that poor kid has to make the hardest decision of his life: walking away from attempting to build a relationship with his father at all because he knows deep down it's never going to happen. 








Through to You by Emily Hainsworth: When a teen boy loses the love of his life in a car accident, he'll do anything to get her back--even travel to another universe.





One of the hardest things in Cam's life -- aside from working through the grief of losing his girlfriend Viv in the accident -- is figuring out what his relationship is with his father. There's a scene in the book where he's on the phone with his father and that tension and sheer anger is completely and utterly palpable and crushing. 



















This is Not a Drill by Beck McDowell: Two teens try to save a class of first-graders from a gun-wielding soldier suffering from PTSD. When high school seniors Emery and Jake are taken hostage in the classroom where they tutor, they must work together to calm both the terrified children and the psychotic gunman threatening them--a task made even more difficult by their recent break-up. Brian Stutts, a soldier suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder after serving in Iraq, uses deadly force when he's denied access to his son because of a custody battle. The children's fate is in the hands of the two teens, each recovering from great loss, who now must reestablish trust in a relationship damaged by betrayal. Told through Emery and Jake's alternating viewpoints, this gripping novel features characters teens will identify with and explores the often-hidden damages of war. 





To be fair, Brian Strutts is suffering major mental illness here with PTSD, but seeing that he took his son's classroom hostage doesn't make him one of the best dads out there. I wanted to include this book in my list because it showcases how adults can sometimes be less-than-awesome parents because of their own challenges. In the case of Strutts, he's not out for ill intent, even though he does absolutely terrible things. He's in desperate need of help he's not getting.








Charm & Strange by Stephanie Kuehn (out next week): A lonely teenager exiled to a remote Vermont boarding school in the wake of a family tragedy must either surrender his sanity to the wild wolves inside his mind or learn that surviving means more than not dying.





The dad in this book is the real monster. He's an abusive and terrifying creature who leaves the worst possible impact on his kids. 











What other YA fathers would you include on this list? Genre doesn't matter -- just keep them to within the last couple of years. Others I've considered are the fathers in Bronxwood by Coe Booth and Amplified by Tara Kelly. There's also the dad in Barry Lyga's I Hunt Killers and the father in Swati Avasthi's Split.  

            Related StoriesThe Program by Suzanne YoungNeptune's Tears by Susan WaggonerAbsent by Katie Williams 

The Program by Suzanne Young

In Sloane's world, suicide is an epidemic among teenagers. No one knows why, but the adults have found a way to combat it: The Program . Teens who are suspected of succumbing to depression are forcibly taken by The Program and have any and all unpleasant memories wiped from their brains. They're sent back weeks later, supposedly cured, but they're not the same. They've lost the things that makes them who they are.





Sloane fears The Program every minute of every day. Her older brother committed suicide, and she knows she's being watched for signs of depression. Luckily, she has her boyfriend, James, and they've pledged to help each other through these last few months until they turn 18 and The Program can't touch them.





And then a friend of theirs kills himself, and James cracks. He's taken by The Program. Sloane is despondent, and she knows when James returns, he won't remember her at all. She has to concentrate on convincing the adults around her that she's fine. She can't show any emotion. She can't express her grief. If she does, they'll call for The Program. But it's already too late - her parents have noticed she's faking happiness and they've called The Program to take her away. Sloane is determined to find a way to maintain her identity while undergoing treatment, to not forget James and her brother and her friends, but what chance does she really stand?





Kimberly's Thoughts





Young presents us with an intriguing premise, but I'm of two minds about it. I like that she tackles a real issue that teens struggle with daily. I like that it's not sensationalized, and that the teens' thoughts and feelings about the Program and their own depression are taken seriously and not trivialized. At the same time, I'm frustrated that there's no explanation for the suicide "epidemic." I wonder if treating depression like a communicable disease can come across as insensitive to teens who suffer from this very complex condition.





The book itself doesn't really dig into the real causes of depression, which is part of the point. The Program is a band-aid, if that. But the fact that the causes aren't investigated in any other way, that people refer to the suicides as an epidemic and treat it as "catching," still does give me pause.





I also think the book suffers a little from an identity crisis. It could have been a thoughtful examination of the causes of suicide in teens and legitimate treatment plans, but it's more about what shouldn't be done than what should. It could have been a thrilling dystopian romp, but it doesn't quite get there either. It's a bit of a strange book, but for many readers, that will be a positive.





I did really like Young's writing. The book held my attention (though the last third is a bit tedious for spoilery reasons) and I felt deeply for Sloane and her friends. Young writes their depression and fear very realistically. I think it reads a lot like a dystopia with a contemporary/realistic feel, and Young succeeds in writing about a really hard, issue-laden topic without making this an "issue book."





Kelly's Thoughts





I like to peruse reviews after I've given a book a good deal of thought, and one of the most interesting things I saw a few times about Young's book was that it made light of issues like depression and suicide. I wonder how many people read the book too fast to pick up the fact that it actually aims to do the precise opposite of this. Which is why I liked this book.





Sloane lives in a world where those who are at risk of suicide -- those who are too "emotional" about anything -- are sent to The Program. The Program wipes the memories and emotionally-traumatic aspects of a person's mind in order for them to return to the world with a different perspective. It thereby removes the threat that they'll choose to kill themselves. In a world where suicide is an epidemic, it seems like a workable solution.





But what Young gets at in the book through Sloane is that a person is a person because of those things that are part of their lives. The good stuff as much as the bad stuff. So Sloane's brother had committed suicide and the fear was that she'd become too emotional about it and thereby become a threat to herself. It's a valid fear in this world, but it reduces feelings to a thing to "deal with," rather than experience and work with. In other words, depression, anger, frustration -- what the message is is that these things are exceptionally tough and they are exceptionally personal and they are what shapes and guides a person through making decisions and through understanding the world around them. By removing them in order to "better" someone, they're removing those aspects that make a persona an individual. There's no belittling depression at all. Instead, I think this book does a pretty good job of making it clear that depression is something to listen to and take seriously. It's individual. There's no one-size-fits-all treatment.





The Program succeeds on a take away for readers, and it succeeds in leaving me wanting to know what happens next. I'm eager to know what happens after. But the book doesn't just succeed on the story telling level. I felt like the dialog, the romance, and the pacing were strong, and they made the book readable and engaging. Sloane and James are close to one another, and they look out for one another. The romance is sweet without being cloying or over the top. It's very teen.





What didn't quite work for me was how Sloane was treated at The Program, and I felt it didn't work because I wanted more. There is an older "worker" at The Program who attempts to take advantage of Sloane, and I felt he was a little bit too much of a sketch, rather than a truly sketchy character. There was a ripe opportunity to delve into the world of authority and the messages of power and control, but it didn't quite come to fruition. I also found the end to be a bit of a let down. Leila talks about it a little bit more in her review at Kirkus -- it definitely let me down, despite the fact I am eager for the sequel.





This isn't my first book by Young but I think it is by far her strongest, and it makes me excited to see where she's going to go next. She writes real teens as real teens. These kids aren't superheroes. They don't have all of the answers. They make dumb choices. But in the end, they come away knowing more about themselves and have a desire to make things better not only for their future, but for the future of other teens like them. That's what makes The Program the kind of book that so many teens will relate to. It's one, too, that I think tackles the issues of depression and suicide very well and in a way that makes these very serious issues easier to grasp for readers who may have never experienced them first-hand. Because what happens when you aren't allowed to experience what it is you need to feel? Or worse, what happens when you're not allowed to experience what it is you feel just because you feel it, without necessarily having a logical reason for your response?

            Related StoriesNeptune's Tears by Susan WaggonerAbsent by Katie WilliamsWhen You Were Here by Daisy Whitney 

Feminist YA over at Book Riot

I didn't get a chance to share the post I wrote for Book Riot yesterday because I was so positively blown away by the response to what I wrote about female sexuality. I read and have thought about each and every comment, even if I haven't responded. So thank you!



What I wrote about over at BR fit nicely with that piece, too -- I shared my starter set of feminist YA novels. I'd love more suggestions if you've got them over there in the comments.






             

Half Lives by Sara Grant

There's a special sort of satisfaction I get out of answering the question "What is that book about?" with "The end of the world." And that's what Sara Grant's Half Lives deals with, at least in part. The other part deals with the beginning of the world. Sound intriguing? It is.





We meet Icie (short for Isis) first, the daughter of brilliant, wealthy parents who send her an urgent 911 text out of the blue. They say they've learned that a bioterrorist attack is imminent, and they need to get to an abandoned bunker in Las Vegas. The bunker was at one point planned to be used as a nuclear waste disposal facility, but those plans were scrapped, making it the perfect place to wait out the end of the world. Isie and her parents become separated, and Isie finds herself hiding out in the bunker with three other companions she picked up along the way while the apocalype rages outside.





Generations later, we meet Beckett. He's only a teenager, but he's the leader of a group of people who live on the Mountain and worship the great I AM. One day, he meets a girl who lives in Vega, the destroyed city they can see from the Mountain. The girl, Greta, is confused by the culture Beckett belongs to, with their strange Sayings, odd nomenclature, and refusal to leave the Mountain. When members of Beckett's people discover he's had dealings with Greta, violence ensues between the two peoples.





Isie's story is an edge of your seat thriller, whereas Beckett's is a puzzler, causing you to think about each and every detail as it's revealed to determine how it connects to Isie's story. I loved them both almost equally, with Isie's story barely edging out Beckett's. But really, they're in conversation with each other, and they need to be read in alternating chapters as they're laid out. (I read a review where the reader said she read all Isie's chapters, then went back and read all of Beckett's. Please don't do this. Well, I suppose you can if you want, but you'd be cheating yourself.)





Both Isie's and Beckett's stories are about what it means to survive, though in different ways. Isie is not your stereotypical do-gooder survivor, helping other sufferers with little to no questions or hesitation. A lot of the times she's selfish, she thinks of herself first and foremost, and I love that Grant doesn't make a sweeping judgment about her for it. Icie's allowed to be human at the end of the world, allowed to think that the 13 year old kid who's attached himself to her is annoying, allowed to hate the fact that her companions smell bad, allowed to want to grab some happiness where she can even if it means someone else may go without. I'm tired of self-sacrificial females in fiction, and while Isie certainly sacrifices a lot, she's not sacrificial. I think there's a difference.





While Isie's story may be more gripping, Beckett's is more thoughtful, and it's much less about character than it is about ideas - what it means to be a survivor of survivors, and how we honor and interpret the past. Any teen who's ever thought about how their own leavings may be interpreted by future generations will love what Grant's done with Beckett's culture. It could have been gimmicky, but instead it's fascinating. It's also funny, but not in a way that undercuts the seriousness of the situation. From the outset, we know Beckett's story is linked to Isie's, but deciphering the details is what makes it such an interesting read. The plot of his story is not nearly as important as what his story means about people's reliance on the past, on their faith, and on whatever connection they can muster to those who came before.





The idea for Half Lives was inspired by a news story about nuclear waste disposal facilities, but that aspect of the book isn't what kept me thinking about it for days afterward, though that's certainly an important issue to consider. Instead, I was left wondering what my own legacy would be, if any, and what messages I could send, if any, to those who come after me. A couple reviews I read questioned if this was an issue teens could relate to, but I don't doubt that they can and do.





Half Lives is a standout in a crowded field. I cried twice (not great gulping sobs, since I was in public, but I sure wanted to), which I'm pretty sure I haven't done since Harry Potter 7 (don't quote me on that). It's not strictly a dystopia, though it certainly has a lot of the same appeal factors. If you're burned out on the subgenre but are still hoping to find something that can inject new life into it, this is your book.





Review copy received from the publisher. Half Lives will be published July 9.