Review: Getting Played

Getting Played by Celeste O. Norfleet
Find it at a local indie!

• Why I read it:
• Disclosure: Received a review copy from the publisher via NetGalley. Thanks!

If there's one thing Kenisha Lewis has learned, it's that the people you think you know best often surprise you the most. And not always in a good way. It seems the revelations just keep coming. First, her grandmother and her dad are having money troubles, which means she'll probably have to stay in public school and get a part-time job. And then there's her boyfriend, Terrence, who has more secrets than she could have imagined. Kenisha can't believe Terrence is dumb enough to get mixed up in a string of robberies. Or that he'd cheat on her with his old girlfriend. Or could it be that she just doesn't want to admit the truth? Where Kenisha goes, drama follows, but she's getting stronger and smarter every day. And she doesn't plan on getting played again….

Brace yourselves. Because, like I said in yesterday's post, this one's going to be negative. Again. Why? Because I don't lower my standards just because a book is a romance or because it has a person of color as a protagonist, and I can't help but feel that the people who made this book happen lowered theirs.

It's especially disappointing because this book could have been fabulous, and in some scenes, is. A decent editor could have probably made it work. I know that the teen romance genre has been plagued perhaps more than any other by "whitewashing," and seeing a break from that was part of the reason I was so excited to read this book in the first place. Kenisha could have made a fantastic heroine and done so much to show teens that they can find characters not of the lily-white mold outside of issue books (much like Jazz from Neesha Meminger's fabulous Jazz in Love did).

Instead, she's whiny, vapid, inconsistent, and spoiled rotten. So private school falls through, Kenisha. Get over yourself and deal. You've got teachers that really want you to succeed - will get you on the right track to a political career, even - and great friends and family that support you no matter what. Not to mention that your boyfriend is supposed to be totally hot and is quite obviously not cheating on you, and yet you completely ignore him. Forgive me if I have a hard time getting the sympathy juices flowing, here.

Compounding the issue is a plot that doesn't seem to make any sense (this is supposed to work as a stand-alone as well as a sequel to the first book, so I'm still deducting points), and a first person narrative that takes that plot and turns it into something nigh incomprehensible. The formatting of the e-galley was so poor when transferred to my Nook that I would have had problems following it no matter what, and that's not really anyone's fault. But characters that seem to do things only because the author wanted them to do them, deux ex machina galore, and a "romance" so muddled I could never tell who the real love interest was supposed to be? That's something you can't really fix between ARC and final edition.


Lastly? Dialogue. Dialogue, for me, is what makes or breaks a book, and the quality of the dialogue here was the final straw for me. I'm restricted from copying out of my e-galley and don't really feel like typing one out, but I wish I had a scene to share so you could see what I'm talking about. It reads like parody, even when I know it's supposed to be affecting. The incomprehensible and inexplicably emo MySpace, Facebook, and Twitter postings that preceded each chapter were even worse, and I struggled to see how they related to the story at all. (Also, do most teens even have MySpace accounts anymore, much less update them?)

It might have been better if I'd read and enjoyed the first book, but this book fell so short of what it could have been that I have a hard time seeing believing it. One and a half out of five stars.

Also, guys? I really, really hate writing negative reviews.

Negative reviews and the lens of the reviewer: some thoughts

So I've been writing lots of negative reviews lately. Or at the very least, sort of meh reviews. Unfortunately, looking at my Read in 2011 list which I use to keep track of my review lag and order and things like that, I realize I have a lot more coming. (Ahem, Starcrossed.) And you know what?

This sucks.

I know how much time and effort and sweat and blood and tears go into writing a book. I've written several, not that any of them will ever see the light of day. I can't even begin to imagine how much time and effort and sweat and blood and tears go into submitting and promoting a book - all I've published is a book review, a poem, and a short story, and those were difficult enough. And do I ever know how much rejection bites - "listening" in on live tweets from the Scholastic Awards, which I submitted to and was rejected from the first round, has been my own private sort of green-eyed monster hell.

Late last night, reading Maggie Stiefvater's recent post on said green-eyed monsters, I started to wonder (again) why I'm doing this at all. What's the point? What entitles me to write negative reviews, when I'll never be as good at it as, say, The Story Siren? Or the lovely ladies of Forever Young Adult? Or a hundred other bloggers who are much better at this than me?

Really, what entitles anybody to hate a book? Doesn't every book have intrinsic value to somebody? Just because I don't like it, does that make it a "bad" book?

...and then I started wondering about whether or not the Matrix was real and if this is all some kind of dream within a dream like Inception and what the meaning of life is, so I guess a lot of that was sleep deprivation talking.

Still, I've read a lot of books lately that - to put it lightly - I hated. And in some ways, reviewing has sucked the joy out of reading for me. It takes an incredible amount of time and effort, and lately it's been harder and harder to drag myself to the keyboard to write anything. It's even made it harder to work on my own novel, because all I can think of is people like me ripping it to little tiny shreds. So the question still stands: What's the point?

Well, back in March, Justine Larbalestier said it better than me (as she is wont to do) in her post, I Love Bad Reviews. To paraphrase, her argument is that once a book is published, it isn't the writer's any longer - it's the reader's. A review is not necessarily a reflection on the worth of a book, but rather a reflection of the worth of a book to that reader. And I couldn't agree more.

Authors, when I negatively review your book, I'm not negatively reviewing you. (Well, very, very rarely.) </edit> I'm having a conversation with myself and my readers about why a book didn't work for me. Also occasionally what I'd like to see other authors do with a novel, and what I'd like to see myself do. I can't ever speak for other people - only for me. And as I believe we've established, I'm not exactly a mainstream audience.

So, please. I'm sixteen, and always sleep-deprived, and sometimes kind of bitchy. My opinions are important to me, but don't take them too seriously.

For example, my current opinion is that ALL YOU BOOKISH PUBLISHING WRITING EDITING PEOPLE PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF *EXPLETIVE* NEED TO MAKE BETTER BOOKS BEFORE I GO INSANE.

/over and out, once again sleep deprived. And I'd love to hear what other book bloggers have to say about this in the comments!

Review: The Goddess Test

The Goddess Test by Aimee Carter
Find it at a local indie!

• Why I read it: Persephone, mythology, guilty pleasure
• Disclosure: Received a review copy from the publisher via NetGalley. Thanks!

It's always been just Kate and her mom—and her mother is dying. Her last wish? To move back to her childhood home. So Kate's going to start at a new school with no friends, no other family and the fear her mother won't live past the fall.
Then she meets Henry. Dark. Tortured. And mesmerizing. He claims to be Hades, god of the Underworld—and if she accepts his bargain, he'll keep her mother alive while Kate tries to pass seven tests.
Kate is sure he's crazy—until she sees him bring a girl back from the dead. Now saving her mother seems crazily possible. If she succeeds, she'll become Henry's future bride, and a goddess.

If I'd reviewed this book back when I'd first read it - the review gap's slowly closing! I'm only 17 books behind now! - my review would have been a lot more negative than it's going to be now. As it is, I've read and hated Starcrossed like I've read and hated no other paranormal romance in the history of YA, so I'll be going easy.

Sure, we have a protagonist who's a Bella Swan wannabe: studious, devoted to her parents, self-sufficient, lonely, has no idea how gorgeous she is. Sure, we have a love who's an Edward Cullen wannabe: old, palely (very blandly) gorgeous, chaste, and safe. Sure, we have a setting that's clearly wish-fulfillment: endless food, servants, clothes, gardens. Sure, I had the nagging feeling that I'd read this before - read it countless times, in fact. But technically, at least, it's head and shoulders above the rest, with a plot that actually makes sense (most of the time) and a decent explanation for a high school that treats Kate like a queen from the beginning when by all rights it should despise her.

So I certainly don't hate it. And occasionally even liked it. But for a book I've been dying to read since I first heard about it last year? I'm having trouble swallowing my disappointment.

I'm not sure what it is about Greek mythology, especially the Persephone myth, that makes it so difficult to translate into good YA. Other than the fairly obscure Juliet Dove, Queen of Love by Bruce Coville, and everything Rick Riordan's ever written, I can't think of a single one I thought did justice to the original myth, and read like a true modern interpretation instead of fantasy-wish-fulfillment-fan-fic. Maybe it's because I'm a mythology snob, but...really? I'm starting to think it's because we're seeing a rash of authors attempt to cash in on a trend. And authors cashing in on a trend rarely produce great books.

Some spoilery thoughts (highlight to read): So the Goddess Test was the Seven Deadly Sins? First, WTF, as I've always associated that with Judeo-Christian mythology and not Greek. Second, while it's certainly less misogynistic than Twilight, I found the gluttony and lust tests condescending and hard to take. And again, while the characters did suffer more than in Twilight, I wish everyone had had to sacrifice more to get what they wanted. I'm masochistic about my YA. I LIKE PAIN, OKAY?

In the end, I'm feeling fairly ambivalent towards The Goddess Test. The big brother/father figure-type love interest has never floated my boat, so to speak, so I certainly won't be returning for the Henry romance. But - dare I say it? - the book took a drastic turn for the better by the end, and the promise of a love triangle actually made me want more instead of run screaming, for once. So kudos to Carter for that.

Unfortunately, I just don't want more enough to think about going out of my way for book two. If it's in my path, I'll probably devour it like I devoured this one (in an hour and a half flat). If it's not, I'll probably never think of it again. It's just not in that top 5% of paranormal romance that has me dying for every book - top 10%, sure, but not quite good enough for that magical 5. Too bad. Three and a half out of five stars.

Review: This Girl Is Different, and an unschooling rant

This Girl Is Different by J.J. Johnson
Find it at a local indie!

• Why I read it: Unschoolers, social activism, filthy filthy hippies
• Disclosure: Received a review copy from the publisher via NetGalley. Thanks!

This girl is different… That’s what Evie has always told herself—and it’s true. Home-schooled by her counter culture mom, she’s decided to see what high school is like for the first time—for her senior year. And what a year it is.
As it turns out, it’s not just Evie who’s Different. Lots of people are. Many of her assumptions about others are turned on their heads as she makes friends with kids her own age for the first time, discovers what’s good and what’s bad about high school, and learns lessons about power and its abuse—both by the administration and by Evie herself.

Allow me to precede this review by saying I wanted to like this book. I really, really, really did. But I didn't. And with this book, it's really hard to tell if that's an objective judgment or if it's because I'm biased.

Allow me also to say that I understand that every YA novel is the story of an individual case, and not a generalization about a particular group. I understand that when, say, Jerry Spinelli wrote about an unschooled character in Stargirl and Love, Stargirl, he was talking specifically about Stargirl and not about all unschoolers. I get it. I really, really, really do. But can I forgive This Girl Is Different for playing into very nearly every counterculture unschooling stereotype ever conceived?

Here's a list of a few off the top of my head: Evie lives with her somewhat neurotic counterculture mother and uncle in a yurt/eco-dome/thing. Her mother never carried on any real relationship with her father, and she's never met him. They have chickens and a cow. Evie's gifted at urban planning, and has spent most of her time as an unschooler building fantastic models in her bedroom. She's a precociously conscientious social activist who refuses to conform to norms and insists on freeing her fellow sheep, no matter the cost, and of course takes this attitude to high school, where she is of course rejected for rocking the boat and then highlight for spoiler of course later accepted and popular for rocking the boat.

So I can't really forgive it, no.

The problem is, that unlike Stargirl, Evie isn't likeable. From our vantage point inside her head, she's utterly obnoxious. And while the writing is actually okay when it's not lost in trope-ville, and the romance actually fun and swoony when Evie's commentary isn't getting in the way, I just couldn't get past the narrative style. I know it's not fair to compare a debut author to a YA great like Jerry Spinelli, and while I haven't read it, Love, Stargirl from Stargirl's first-person perspective is also apparently obnoxious. But every author, debut or not, has an obligation to write characters I care about if they expect me to care about their book, and that's where JJ Johnson fails.

I'd like to think a third-person perspective would have fixed this book. From Rajas, maybe. But I have a sneaking suspicion that, as promising as this author's writing style is, this story was doomed from the beginning for me. Yes, there are a lot of hippie farmgirl unschoolers. (I'm one.) Yes, there are a lot of socially active unschoolers. (Ditto.) But. Most of us just aren't Evensong Sparkling Morningdew.

I have the feeling I'd be slightly less bitter towards This Girl Is Different if there were "normal" homeschooling books other people could read and compare it to. (Trust me, there aren't.) I have a feeling I'd be a lot less bitter if it had avoided the most annoying trope of all, which is the crazytown hippie parent. (Think The Indigo Notebook.) Seriously, authors? I know this is hard for you to believe, but not all unschooling/homeschooling parents are crazy. Some are, and get loads of media attention for it, but most aren't. And YA should reflect that.

I can speculate all I like about what would have made this book work for me, but in the end, this book still epitomizes the public opinion of unschooling that makes me apprehensive to identify as unschooled in public. JJ Johnson seems awesome enough (just check out her comment on Forever Young Adult's review), and I'll be keeping an eye on her in the future, but this book? For the sake of unschoolers everywhere, please skip. Two and a half out of five stars.

Yes, I know, this rant isn't entirely fair. If you couldn't tell, this book touched a nerve. As usual, I welcome (respectful) argument and disagreement in the comments!

Happy Memorial Day? On the holiday and military in YA.

Five days ago on the blog of James Vachowski appeared this post: Happy Memorial Day? Go read it. It´s short. Like maybe 50 words short. I´ll be waiting.

In his post (assuming you´ve read it from here on out), Mr. Vachowski makes the point that there technically is no such thing as a "happy" Memorial Day. The whole point of the holiday is to remember soldiers who have made the ultimate sacrifice for their country, unlike it´s companion holiday Veteran´s Day, which is a celebration of those still living. "Happy" Memorial Day is more than a little macabre.

And that´s why I´m going to wish you all a very happy 3-day weekend, and a contemplative Memorial Day.

In the interest of that contemplation, I´ve been thinking a lot about the role military plays in YA. Now, once my review is written and comments replied to and author correspondence finished, my memory for plot details is a little fuzzy, so correct me if I´m wrong. But other than James Vachowski´s Outspoken, in which the protagonist enrolls in JROTC, and Melina Marchetta´s Jellicoe Road, in which supporting character Jonah Griggs is enrolled in a similar Australian program, I can´t think of much handling of the military in teen fiction. (Except, of course, for the omnipresent threat of "military school" for troublemakers.)

 Pictured: Troublemakers.

This strikes me as odd, because no matter what your feelings are on the military, you can´t deny it´s a factor in the life of teens. At least three or four of my college classmates in their teens decided to join the military this year and complete school on the G.I. Bill, and as I go to a community college that caters to a lot of nontraditional students, I also have many classmates who have finished their service and are currently completing school on the G.I. Bill. Especially in small towns, there´s a lot of pressure to "put your time in" and "serve your country" before you go to college, and while that is personally frustrating and sad for me, I´m sure there´s many positive explorations of that dynamic to be made, as well.

I know that E.M. Kokie´s 2012 debut Personal Effects deals with the military, although I´m not sure how directly, and that A.S. King´s Everybody Sees the Ants will have a Vietnam War angle to it, but other than that I´m stumped. Have any recommendations or thoughts to leave in the comments?

Review: Bluefish

Bluefish by Pat Schmatz
Find it at a local indie! 

• Why I read it: Quirky supporting characters, wrong side of the tracks
• Disclosure: Received a review copy from the publisher via NetGalley. Thanks!

Travis is missing his old home in the country, and he’s missing his old hound, Rosco. Now there’s just the cramped place he shares with his well-meaning but alcoholic grandpa; a new school and the dreaded routine of passing when he’s called on to read out loud. But that’s before Travis meets Mr. McQueen, who doesn’t take “pass” for an answer – a rare teacher whose savvy persistence has Travis slowly unlocking a book on the natural world. And it’s before Travis is noticed by Velveeta, a girl whose wry banter and colorful scarves belie some hard secrets of her own. With sympathy, humor, and the disarming honesty, Pat Schmatz brings to life a cast of utterly believable characters – and captures the moments of trust and connection that make all the difference.

Good YA is the balance between the artsy and the readable. Good YA is also the balance between the story teens need to hear, and the one they want to hear. Good YA requires a connection between author and reader perhaps more than in any other genre; a sort of telepathy, and loyalty. Bluefish is perhaps one of the most crystallized examples of good YA I have ever read, bringing to mind the classics by Judy Blume and Louis Sachar, the ones I read before I even knew what YA was.

We have a rural setting, somewhere. One that's quirky enough to be interesting, and one that's just general enough to be there. Anywhere. Mostly on the wrong side of the tracks. This is good, because a setting that became a character would have competed with the fantastic characters we've been given.

The relationship between Travis - withdrawn, sullen, a fighter, embarrassed about a secret that anyone could guess - and Velveeta - bubbly, quirky, trying to make up for something, and we don't know what - is what drives the novel. I cared about these characters. In both, polar opposites, I found shades of myself (and in Velveeta, shades of Juno, if you'd thrown in a teen pregnancy).

In one of my favorite scenes, a friend of theirs that happily takes the role of Third Wheel - an avid videogamer, one of the "gifted" kids, black to their white trash, unimaginably privileged in Travis and Velveeta's eyes - brings lunch to school. I think it's squash ravioli, and his mother made it for him from scratch. And Travis and Velveeta wonder if they, too, had had parents that cared for them enough to make lunches from scratch, would they be the "gifted" kids? It's understated and pitch-perfect, and the kind of moment that I won't be forgetting anytime soon.

Unfortunately, it slips somewhat by the end. There's slightly too much reaching towards a happy ending for my taste, and slightly too much precocious awareness of its quirks. Still, reading this at the same age I devoured Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret and Holes, would I have cared a whit about those flaws? Absolutely not. It's the kind of book that deserves to be checked out again and again from the library, beloved by generation after generation and remembered fondly in college and beyond. While older teens might not find enough grit to hold their attention, it's my go-to recommendation for middle schoolers and new-to-high-schoolers this year. Five out of five stars.

Bluefish will be released September 13th, 2011.