YA or STFU

Mechling, Laura (2008). Dream Girl. NY: Delacorte. 320 pages.

Fifteen-year-old Claire Voyante has always had visions; however, in spite of her romantic wishes, these moments of clairvoyance have never really lead her to adventure. When her grandmother gives Claire a cameo necklace for her birthday, she promises that the heirloom jewelry will help Claire to focus her abilities. Unfortunately, Claire has issues greater than her burgeoning psychic powers to think about: she will be starting her freshman year at a new and highly competitive school where she will know no one but her former best friend and bitchy neighbor. After spending a couple of lunch hours in the bathroom, Claire finally makes a friend, a mysterious and stylish girl named Becca. Becca and Claire become BFFs; however, Claire's visions (strengthened by the cameo) seem to predict a dire future for Becca's family.

Mechling is one half of the author team responsible for the "10th Grade Social Climber" books, but don't let this literary history fool you. Dream Girl walks the line between popular and quirky in an endearing and definitely un-cynical way. Sure there are the obligatory references to New York upper class culture (Claire's grandmother is an aging socialite and Becca's family are catsup magnates); however, these descriptions seem less aspirational and more colorful, probably because the protagonist is not a "social climber" herself. Other fans of the series will probably skewer me, but I thought Dream Girl felt a lot like a softer, fluffier "Kiki Strike" book. Populated with likable, unconventional characters (many of whom reminded me of the cast of Meg Cabot's first "Princess Diaries" book--before the series took off and everyone became sort of cartoons of themselves) and colored by mystery, romance and even a little parapsychology, this book was a fun read.

Posted by Amy P. at 03:55 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

de la Cruz, Melissa (2007). Angels on Sunset Boulevard. NY: Simon and Schuster. 240 pages.

This is the first book in what I hope is a new series (or at least a trilogy) by "Ashleys" and "Au Pairs" author de la Cruz. Decidedly unlike the "Ashleys" and "Au Pairs" and deeper than de la Cruz's other fantasy/horror series "Blue Bloods," Angels blends mystery and elements of dystopian fantasy in a Scott Westerfeld-type way.

Narrated in the third person with limited omniscience, the novel follows Taj, the ex-girlfriend of an Internet music sensation turned legitimate rock star. When the rock star, known as Johnny Silver, disappears, a boy on the fringe of Taj's scene tries to make sense of the web of intrigue surrounding Taj, Johnny, and embedded in a popular social networking site known as TAP.

This book has it all: rock and roll cool (that, for once, is not overdone), social networking conspiracy, a slowly revealed mystery, and even a little twist at the open ending. Fans of de la Cruz will find the same easy to read but fast paced prose here as in her other novels, but may be surprised at how suspenseful and downright mysterious the narrative is. Unlike the "Blue Bloods" books, which, I think, pretty much lay everything mysterious out in front of you and which seem to take pains to resolve most of the suspense within a single novel, Angels slowly raises a number of questions and doesn't leave any of them answered. Again, unlike "Blue Bloods," and other series of its ilk, Angels doesn't manufacture a cliff-hanging hook in the last chapter to keep readers waiting for the sequel. Instead, the first book in the series (I hope!) answers a question readers may not have even posed and then complicates the other mysterious elements in the plot.

According to de la Cruz's website (link here), the author plans on releasing a second book, in the fall of this year (2008). I hope I'm not the only one sweating this one out.

Posted by Amy P. at 03:40 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Henderson, Lauren (2008). Kiss Me, Kill Me. NY: Delacorte. 272 pages.

Sixteen-year-old Scarlett has never been kissed. A competitive gymnast on her British private school's gymnastics team, Scarlett spends her afterschool hours practicing or hanging out with her two best friends and members of the team. When a member of her school's elite clique of girls invites her to attend one of the group's upcoming parties, Scarlett quickly accepts the invitation, even though it means dissing her friends. At the party, Scarlett flirts with Dan, the attractive and wealthy crush of the leader of the elite girls, and, when the two kiss, Dan appears to have an allergic reaction and dies. The resulting social repercussions are enough to convince Scarlett to switch schools--from her first exclusive prep school to a second exclusive institution owned by her grandmother--and, as she settles into this new environment, she vows to solve the mystery of Dan's death.

Kiss Me, Kill Me is Henderson's first young adult book; the author (website here) is known in Britain for her mysteries for adults. As a mystery novel, Kiss Me works pretty well: Dan's death is appropriately dramatic and mysterious and Scarlett's search for his killer, aided by an American student from her new school who wants to be a private investigator, follows all the rules of the genre. By the end of the novel the mystery has been solved; however, there appears to be to bits of unfinished business that may or may not be addressed in a sequal. First and most immediately, by the novel's conclusion, Scarlett seems to be planning to either exact revenge or expose the killer, and Henderson leaves enough hanging to suggest a second book. Second, and more pervasively, there are a number of allusions to Scarlett's past: the death of her parents is mentioned but never explained and her living arrangements--first with a friend of her grandmother's and then with an aunt--are mysterious, as neither guardian seems invested in the girl's welfare. This is not to say that Kiss Me is a book about child neglect, more to say that there appears to be something going on underneath the story that may or may not be fleshed out in a future book.

While Henderson's YA novel offers an intriguing and satisfying mystery, I am a little concerned and even confused about the other mysteries suggested in the book. If this novel were packaged like a series, I would expect this kind of cliff-hanging device; its presentation as a hardback originial, however, seems to preclude the use of these techniques. I wonder (cynically) if these devices are just manipulations of an author hoping for a multi-book deal based on teen reception and demand; if this is the case, I am not impressed. To be honest, I'd rather be convinced to become involved with a hardback series (or with books in series [vs. series fiction]) by a solid and complete first novel that, though it doesn't beg for a sequal, is so truly engrossing and unique that readers (and by readers, I mean me) can't help but hope for more and similar work.

Posted by Amy P. at 12:35 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Cassidy, Anne (2007). Looking for J.J. NY: Harcourt. 336 pages.

When seventeen-year-old Alice Tully spies a "missing girl" poster featuring a photograph of herself at age 10 and advertising a reward for information about a girl named Jennifer Jones, she fears that the past she has worked hard to keep hidden is about to resurface. Seven years earlier, Alice--AKA Jennifer, known as J.J.--was found guilty for murdering her best friend and neighbor. Now newly released from a juvenile facility and living under an assumed name, Alice wonders who is looking for her and why.

The story of J.J. is told in flashbacks appearing throughout and punctuating the Alice-centric narrative. As we learn about Alice's childhood shuttled between her grandmother's house and a series of foster homes, and in the dubious and intermittent care of her irresponsible mother, the "tragedy foretold" becomes if not excused then understandable. Like Werlin's The Rules of Survival (2006), Cassidy's novel is descriptive but not romanticized and depicts, in part, a rather harrowing existence.

The narrative shift from the past to the present ratchets the tension in this semi-mystery; unfortunately, the rather sudden conclusion neither resolves nor balances this. While I can see this ending as a stylistic device that is meant to underscore what would seem to be Alice's abrupt "disappearance," (I'm going to go ahead and tell you how it ends) as J.J./Alice is forced to assume a third identity so that she can live in peace, I found myself turning the last page looking for the real ending. This is not to say that the book failed; in fact, I found this one more satisfying than Gail Giles' similarly themed Right Behind You (2007). I sympathized with Alice a bit more than I could with Giles' narrator, in spite of Cassidy's third person narrative. Ironic, no?

Posted by Amy P. at 02:43 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Miller, Kirsten (2007). Kiki Strike: The Empress' Tomb. NY: Bloomsbury USA. 350 pages.

Oh, man, I love the Kiki Strike books! The Empress' Tomb is the second in Kirsten Miller's series following a rogue group of young teen girls who call themselves the "Irregulars" and, with the guidance of their mysterious leader Kiki Strike, foil the sinister plots of some of Manhattan's most dastardly crooks. Narrated by Ananka, the Irregular who is probably the closest to Kiki, the new novel (like the first book in the series) is 99% narrative and 1% instructions to the young reader cum spy.

In the second book in what I hope is a protracted series (and, if Miller's "Kiki Strike" website is any indication, the Irregulars have a lot more evil to encounter), Manhattanites take notice when both graffitti-ed images of large squirrels and large squirrels, themselves, begin to show up on the city streets. When the squirrels seem to be signaling the Irregulars, Ananka and her friends become involved with an old enemy--Lester Liu--and some new complications--a potential romance with the squirrel-handler for Betty, the Irregulars' mistress of disguise, for one. The new installment is long (350 pages) and complex though very satisfying; the various plot strands ultimately come together in a conclusion that somehow doesn't seem pat. Although the primary conflict involves some comicly eccentric characters, these figures are not introduced in a way that would render them stock pieces and even these secondary figures have quirky depth.

Like the old Christopher Pike novels (think Chain Letter and Weekend, not Whisper of Death), the "Kiki Strike" books are sophisticated pieces that don't pander to their youthful audience. It is Miller's authorial empathy for her teen characters and her authorization of their subjectivities (even as their maturity seems to belie their age) that make this book a pleasure to read.

Posted by Amy P. at 01:33 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Cooney, Caroline B. (2007). Diamonds in the Shadow. NY: Delacorte. 240 pages.

The Face on the Milk Carton (1996) probably marked the last time Caroline B. Cooney really delved into character; however, in the case of Diamonds in the Shadow, Cooney's lack of really deep characterization works. Sixteen-year-old Jared is not pleased with his family's decision to house a family of African refugees; he doesn't want to share his room or the responsibility for introducing this family from Sierra Leone to the Western world. When the Amabos arrive, however, Jared's curiosity is piqued. Not because he suddenly realizes the opportunity to expand his understanding (and misunderstanding) of the world, but because he is certain that the refugee family of four is not who they claim to be. While his younger sister Martha--known as Mopsy--eagerly takes the Amabo daughter under her wing, Jared's association with the Amabo son leads to more questions. Why don't the Amabo parents act more concerned about their daughter, a beautiful fifteen-year-old who refuses to eat or speak? Why does the family appear to know so little about their own children? How did Mr. Amabo lose his hands?

This third-person limited omniscient story of two families--the Amabos and the Finches (Jared's family)--makes subtle comparisons between the "haves" and the "have nots" while slowly revealing details of the horror the Amabos witnessed in the refugee camp they fled. At the center of the story is Victor, a fifth refugee who arrived in the States with the Amabos and who is actively searching for the group of four (related?) people whisked away at the airport's immigration counter.

Cooney weaves details of African political unrest, conflict diamonds, and child soldiers into this story of suspense and, ultimately, forgiveness. While Diamonds in the Shadow could easily have turned into a polemic, dramatic climax aside, Cooney refuses to smooth the rough edges of each of the Amabo's stories and put into order what is truly a complex and multifaceted (I know, I know . . . ) issue.

Posted by Amy P. at 10:28 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Burgess, Melvin (2007). Sara's Face. NY: Simon and Schuster. 272 pages.

I'm not totally sold on Melvin Burgess (I don't think anyone is); however, I admire the risks he takes with content and form and, with this long view, find his latest novel, Sara's Face, an intriguing addition to his oeuvre as well as the contemporary YA scene. Seventeen-year-old Sara is fascinated with the concept of fame and celebrity and has spent most of her adolescent life trying on personae and "performing" for her friends and schoolmates. When a burn accident lands her in the hospital, she meets Michael Heat, a svengali like Michael Jackson-esque singer and celebrity, who invites her to live at his estate and promises her reconstructive and cosmetic surgery. Heat is something of legend in Britain (and the world): a popular singer turned philanthropist, Heat made his name and endured in the public eye by constantly changing both his image and appearance through increasingly drastic cosmetic surgery. Now sporting a Michael Heat mask that he wears to hide his collapsed face, Heat retains his influence; scores of young people wear similar masks that cover and change their entire visage (s?). Once installed at Heat's mansion, Sara becomes convinced that Heat and his surgeon intend to "steal" her face during her cosmetic surgery and graft her youthful and beautiful face onto the ruined skull of Heat.

Told in the form of an investigative/true crime novel, the "narrator" of the story is the author, Burgess in the guise of Ann Rule. This is an intriguing conceit, as it forces us, as readers, to maintain a distance from the characters whose thoughts and actions are related third-hand. While this technique has not garnered the novel any praise--and, I admit, it is a bit clunky for what is, essentially, a novel--this is an especially appropriate way to handle the novel's main themes related to fame and celebrity. I have to admit that I was a bit disappointed by the ending and the failure to resolve all of what seem to be deliberate allusions (to Bluebeard, to Frankenstein); however, the premise of the story kept me reading and the sketchy conclusion made me linger a bit more over the novel than I might have otherwise.

Posted by Amy P. at 10:18 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Parker, Robert B. (2007). The Edenville Owls. NY: Philomel. 224 pages.

Now, I love a good mystery and am always excited when the prospect of a great addition to the YA mystery canon appears. This novel, however, is not destined to be one of the YA greats. Set in the mid 1940s, this novel by adult mystery writer Parker involves its fourteen-year-old protagonist Bobby in a mystery plaguing one of the adult citizens of his small Massachusetts town of Edenville. When Bobby's beloved teacher Miss Delaney comes to school with a black eye and Bobby and his friends, known as The Owls (the friends are on an independent basketball team "coached" by Bobby), witness a mysterious man harassing the teacher, the gang decides to find out what's going on. Soon, Bobby, as the self-appointed leader of the crew, is hiding out in Miss Delaney's attic (creepy!) and spying on the gravel-voiced man responsible for her black eye.

Dude, this book was soooo lame! I hate it when adult authors craft novels for young people that are really aimed at their adult audience. The cheesy pseudo-autobiographical detail and indulgent "greatest generation" details of post World War II life were so not needed. I had a hard time believing Bobby as a fourteen-year-old, much less a sleuth who, with his gang of junior high basketballers, could effectively blackmail a white supremacist to get him to leave town and stop bothering their innocent teacher. Give me a break, man. This book is for the birds.

Posted by Amy P. at 10:07 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Alphin, Elaine Marie (2005). The Perfect Shot. Minneapolis, MN: Carolrhoda Books. 359 pages.
After his girlfriend and her family are killed while he shoots hoops in his driveway next door, Brian finds himself disappearing into basketball (he's on the school team) to avoid thinking about the crime and the fact that his girlfriend's father is being charged with her death. When he is assigned to research a turn-of-the-century court case in history class, Brian and his research partner, Todd, the school outcast, begin to compare the historic case of justice gone wrong to the more current events to which he is personally attached. The research, combined with a racially charged incident into which Brian and a teammate are drawn, leads Brian to question the findings of the police in the case of his girlfriend's death and to re-evaluate the events of that tragic day.
I don't normally like the school-assignment-extends-to-real-life trope in young adult novels; however, it kinda works in this one. Mainly because Alphin doesn't go for the "Shakespeare Applies to Everything" model and exposes us to a lesser known "lesson" from history. That said, there are some moments of overblown drama, most notably in the first chapter--the girlfriend's death, told from her perspective!!--and throughout the novel as the details from the climax are drawn out between the chapters of the main text. The mystery element was mildly thrilling (a la Joan Lowery Nixon in her later period), if not a bit obvious (I wonder who that jogger in the sweatsuit was?), and--I'll admit it--I'm a sucker for some overblown suspense.

Posted by Amy P. at 11:48 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)