A creepily atmospheric YA paranormal chiller which draws much of its menace from its setting in a tiny tight-knit community in the wilds of Alaska during the long winter when there are few hours of daylight. Corey returns to Lost Creek, “an almost all-white conservative town with little room for wayward girls,” for the funeral of Kyra, her troubled best friend and almost immediately realizes it was a suicide not an accident. Corey becomes increasingly troubled by the town inhabitants’ attitude towards Kyra in both life and death and, even though she herself left only a few months ago, their closing against her as an “outsider.” This is interspersed with flashbacks to the previous two years during which Kyra’s alternate manic episodes and depressions had become increasingly severe. Niekamp (This Is Where It Ends, 2016) draws nuanced portraits of both bipolar Kyra, looking only for acceptance of herself as she is, and Corey, convincingly conflicted between being there for her friend and craving normality. Some interesting sub-plots around sexuality are undeveloped and the novel occasionally breaks into a screenplay format for no apparent reason. Nonetheless, this will appeal to teens who enjoy magical realism with a side of eerie. Reviewed from an ARC.
This middle grade story of nine self-sufficient orphans on a mysterious island can be read as a low key fantasy and/or an allegory of the unfettered joys of childhood and the looming responsibilities of maturity. It reminded me, in some respects of Jerry Spinelli’s Hokey Pokey but I found it way more appealing than Spinelli’s nonsense and think it could get some MG readers.
Every year, a boat arrives on orphan Island carrying a very young child. The young child is taken into the care of the second oldest of the 9 residents and the oldest one gets onto the boat to embark for who knows where physically, but adulthood metaphorically.
Life on the island is blissfully easy. Food is abundant, the wildlife is unharmful, it only rains at night, and even the wind throws the kids back onto land if they jump off a cliff. However, there is a strict unwritten structure and set of rules passed down from all the previous residents, which the children follow religiously (deliberate choice of word there).
Jinny was heartbroken when Deen left the island, leaving her as the Elder taking care of the new girl Ess. She isn’t very good at teaching Ess what she needs to know – reading and swimming – nor is she very good at training Ben, the next in line, on how to be an Elder. Jinny doesn’t want to follow the rules and when she breaks one of the most important ones, life on the island becomes out of joint.
Jinny rings true as a conflicted pre-adolescent and her relationship with her young charge, Ess, is delightfully imperfect; however, the other characters, who have a variety of different skin, hair and eye colors, are just sketched in.
I found some of the metaphors a trifle heavy handed – the entrance of snakes to this garden of Eden and Jinny’s long swim away from the island – but maybe this wouldn’t be the case for the intended audience.
Many questions are unanswered who sends them to the island? What do they go back to? who set up this home? are they really orphans? – but the ending, bringing the story full circle, feels complete.
Matt and Tabby have been friends forever, but as they start high school Matt is hiding that he is in love with her, though she does not reciprocate. In fact, she starts dating handsome senior Luke, star athlete and all round nice guy so Matt puts himself in a self-imposed competition with Luke both for Tabby and on the basketball court. When a tragedy strikes, Matt goes off the emotional rails.
Debut author Reck is following a well-trodden path for his first novel (in fact, Kirkus notes many similarities with John Green’s Waiting for Alaska), and up until the tragedy occurs, while I was happy to read the engagingly written book, I was not finding anything out of the ordinary. It is only when Matt is plunged into grief that the book moves tentatively out of the ‘so what?’ zone. Reck has written with authority and insight into the anger that can be part of grieving; Matt is a mess but is powerless to change, though ultimately, with the intervention of his eccentric grandfather and his inspirational English teacher, Matt moves towards a gradual resolution.
Matt’s narration gives the novel some character and the stylistic devices add a nice layer of trimming – Matt views things as though he’s directing a movie of his life and he makes some smart comments on modern romantic movie tropes. However, the other, all white, characters are largely undeveloped stereotypes.
So not a lot to see here, but YA fans of sad stories might enjoy it.
Reviewed from an ARC.
I loved both e. lockhart’s previous novels The Disreputable History of Frankie Landau-Banks (2009) and We Were Liars (2014), (though I read them both before I began blogging so no reviews to link to) so I was thrilled to receive a review copy of her latest, Genuine Fraud and I LOVED this one too!
Jule West Williams is the enigma at the heart of this riveting thriller that opens with the police tracking her down in Mexico and then moves backward to peel away the layers of how Jule got there.
She is an amoral heroine who likens herself to Jason Bourne, James Bond, and “a lone vigilante, a superhero in repose.” Though she is opportunistic, a fluent liar, and without scruples, Jule is still a somewhat sympathetic character, though she herself would not care too much about that. Her identity is fluid, both in terms of the disguises she dons and more deeply: “She could feel the stories she told herself and the stories she told others shifting around, overlapping, changing shades.” The supporting characters are much less developed because Jule only sees others in relation to herself and what they can do for her.
The narrative is driven by the mystery of who Jule really is and what she has done and lockhart acknowledges its debt to Patricia Highsmith’s The Talented Mr Ripley. The prose is hardboiled, cool, and a little detached and overtly conjures up modern day movie tropes as well as using more subtle imagery of femme fatales from film noir.
The author plays with gender stereotypes showing Jule taking advantage of the assumption that “small, cute women were harmless” as she happily acknowledges that “to be a physically powerful women – it was something. You could go anywhere, do anything, if you were difficult to hurt.” The only chink in her armor is when she starts to fall for Paolo, but she has already booby trapped that relationship before it even starts.
At the end, Jule is triumphant: “I am the center of the story now… I don’t have to weigh very little, wear very little, or have my teeth fixed.” Ideal for teen readers who don’t want soft and cuddly and who appreciate a young woman who has no hesitation in grabbing what she wants.
Reviewed from an ARC.
White high school junior Linden’s social status is on the rise – she’s dating hot Mexican American baseball player Alex and she’s become part of the “Lovelies” crowd that’s organizing prom. The only cloud on the horizon is a new school wide app called Worthy which gets users to anonymously rate and comment on whether a girl is worthy of the guy she’s dating (everyone is apparently heterosexual in this Texas school). Even as she questions why it’s only the girl being rated, Linden thinks this app seems like fun but later realizes that it can hurt people.
Linden is a somewhat contradictory character – she’s a quiet introvert who makes a few credibility straining extrovert choices which drive the plot along. The big star of the book, for me, is Nikki Aquino, her best friend, “a gorgeous plus-sized Filipino girl,” who seems to have oodles of self-confidence to go her own way. Her reaction to being on Worthy is priceless, but at the same time we see her vulnerability and self-doubt. Other teens and family members are all pretty two dimensional.
The attention-grabbing cover will ensure this book gets picked up, and readers will get what they came for. The plotting and pacing are sound, and the novel is very readable, though the resolution is YA glib – everything gets sorted out rather more easily than it would do after such emotional damage in real life.
The book raises some interesting questions about judgment, both by your peers and by yourself, and like 2015’s NEED raises the question about what people will do when they are allowed to be anonymous. The author also considers the idea of inward and outward beauty, as Alex’s sister helpfully has a Beauty and the Beast-themed quinceanera.
This is not a book that’s going to change the world but it is thoughtful and slightly provocative.
Actually it starts with the main character being in a lawyer’s office, but that’s a little less catchy!
Riffing on the Cinderella story, this amiable realistic YA novel explores family, friendship, and finding your own path. After white high school junior Tatum Elsea is wrongly convicted of a misdemeanor, she must spend her summer doing community service and earning money to pay her fine, under the watchful eye of her harshly strict Chilean “stepmonster.”
There turns out to be a silver lining as, under the influence of her fairy stepgrandmother, Tatum sets up her own design business, meets a dreamy “tawny brown” skinned boy, makes new friends, and comes to better know her stepmother and stepsister.
Debut novelist June has an easy touch with characters and plot, though neither pushes any boundaries and the resolution feels a little too slick. Review based on an ARC.
I always enjoy a good teen with issues novel, and this decent, easy reading, realistic YA novel has five teens with five different issues! Stella (depression), Clarissa (OCD), Andrew (anorexia), Ben (bipolar), and Mason (narcissism) have all been sent to Camp Ugunduzi, a “wilderness therapy camp.”
Debut novelist Yu makes a reasonable go at creating these five different characters who narrate the four weeks of camp. Of the five, I most enjoyed spending time with Stella, who has a caustic wit, and Clarisa, who is genuinely striving to ‘get better’ even though her definition of what that means changes over the four weeks. Andrew is also a sweetheart, and I felt that the author got closest to his psychology than to any of the others. I found Ben’s chapters rather long winded and Mason just feels like a filler character to make up the five. All the characters are apparently white, with the exception of Asian Clarisa.
Very little of the solo or group therapeutic treatment is actually shown. The camp director is perceived as creepy and full of anodyne cliches and the teens deride their two counselors, Josh and Jessie, as a hippie and a drill sergeant. Conversely, there is much rule-breaking including heavy drinking, without consequence, which leads to a potentially skewed portrayal of what such a camp might offer.
The group are told to create a Safe Space Cabin as a team project, which seems like it’s meant to provide a spine for the novel but it gets a bit shuffled into the background. A tragedy in the final third of the book feels a little perfunctory, and happens offstage so lacks immediate impact. Really, only Clarisa seems to derive much benefit from the camp, though they create strong relationships with each other.
While debut novelist Yu has drawn from her own experience of mental illness, she does not cite any additional research or offer any helpful resources for teens who might recognize their own challenges (though I did read this as an ARC so it might have changed).