Twilight

Meyer, Stephanie. Twilight. New York City: Little, Brown, 2005.

Bella Swan is new in town. After her mother’s minor league baseball player is traded, Bella has to move in with her sheriff father, who she does not know very well, all the way in Forks, Washington. Forks is quite a change from her old town, Phoenix, but Bella tries her hardest to get used to her new school and life. Some teenagers from family called the Cullens, catch Bella’s interest, especially Edward Cullen. The only problem is that Edward acts like Bella is the most repulsive thing he has even come across. After a little investigating and some inquisitions, Bella and Edward become friendly and their mutual attraction becomes prominent. Being that close to Edward and his family, Bella begins to take notice of some distinct eccentricities and after some research comes to the conclusion that Edward and his family are vampires. Questioning Edward, he confirms Bella’s theory, noting that his family is “vegetarian”, because they do not consume human blood. After she meets his family and begins to get comfortable, they are confronted by a group of nomadic vampires, who have been killing people in the area in and around Forks. James, the lead vampire wants to kill Bella, but Edward and the Cullen’s do their best to protect her. After a flight from Forks to Phoenix to keep Bella safe, she is captured by James and nearly murdered, but Edward and a few other Cullens come in at the right moment and save her from certain death.

Bella is the type of heroine with which modern fantasy readers can identify. She is flawed, awkward and suffers from an unrequited crush on what could be considered an unattainable, uninterested male figure. However, Bella eventually discovers that as interesting as she finds Edward, she has special points intriguing to him in the same way. Edward has the ability to read everyone’s thoughts, but is completely unable to read Bella’s. With this addition, Meyer gives Bella a characteristic that makes her special, like any good fantasy main character. Meyer also cuts in to some of the heavier parts of the story to giving Bella some humor, lightening up her desperately in love, almost too serious protagonist. In regard to finding an appropriate outfit to meet Edward’s family, Bella notes, “I doubted there were any etiquette books detailing how to dress when your vampire sweetheart takes you home to meet his vampire family.”

Meyer’s writing is simplistic and modern, with an easy to follow story arc. This writing style affords the reader the ability to get involved with the story, without having to decipher too many plot turns and overreaching vocabulary. The School Library Journal not only said that “the pacing is appropriate for teens who want to learn all the details in this suspenseful tale”, but also that the writing was “realistic, subtle, succinct and easy to follow.” Meyer also gives great focus to the surroundings in the story, detailing the landscape as if it were another character in the story. Meyer’s imagery illustrating the often gloomy, rainy Washington days, fits in with the darkness of the tale, adding to the mystique of the setting.

Reluctant readers or those indifferent to the genre may have be grabbed by the flow of the wording and substantial romantic interludes; the tying together of love, the unreal and danger makes for a story that appeals to a wide variety of readers. The sheer popularity of the novel goes to further accentuate the fact that the work can be enjoyed by reader with different interests. Though the work is easy to read, it can be said that first-time writer Meyer’s inexperience shows in pieces of the work. Particular adverbs and descriptions are used ad nauseam (Bella’s reference to Edward being “beautiful” and “striking” occurs quite often, nearly every time she sees him), to the detriment of the story. By varying phrases and tightening story elements, Meyer’s fantastical world of good and bad vampires, future werewolves and regular humans would shine a bit brighter.

Book jacket cover found on: http://www.nassaulibrary.org/SyoTeensBlog/2009/05/-3-apples-book.html

Elsewhere

Zevin, Gabrielle. Elsewhere. New York City: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2005.

Somehow Elizabeth Hall (also known as Liz or Lizzie), has woken up on a cruise ship with a stranger for a roommate. The ship is headed for Elsewhere, but all Liz wants to do is go home. It takes her a little while (and some revelations by her shipmates) to understand that she is dead, not just dreaming, and cannot go back home. Once she arrives on Elsewhere, she is met by her grandmother who passed away before Liz was even born and is sent to orientation to get to know her new home. Everyone on Elsewhere ages backward from the age they died, then when they are 7 days old they get sent back to Earth. Liz cannot believe her luck; just shy of 16, she will never get to drive, fall in love, go to prom, go to college or do anything else. Initially, Liz refuses to acclimate to her new situation, preferring to watch what her family on Earth is doing and rejecting the tenets of Elsewhere. After an attempt to contact her brother on Earth, which is forbidden in Elsewhere, Liz realizes that she needs to make an effort to create a life in her new home. She finds a job working with animals, giving them an orientation to their new lives, like the one she had, connects deeply with her grandmother and even finds love. Liz learns that a life is a life, no matter where you live.

By beginning the story in the world of the living, Zevin communicates with the reader one of the basic and most important elements of fantasy works: the reader is going to follow the main character on a journey beyond this world. How Zevin accomplishes this what is worth note, as she talks about the death of Liz through the eyes of her Earthly canine companion. Lucy, the dog, sets the tale that the reader is about to enter, in a fun and original way. Just that brief interlude provides the necessary and critical transition between the actual world and the world of Elsewhere. The plot points within the book so vital to the success of the work are inventive and afford the author to create essential growth in Liz, making her likeable and further emphasizing the theme. Liz, hesitant to embrace or commit to her new life, begins to understand and realize that there is a cycle to life and she is cycling through, just like everyone else. Whereas before she laments that she’ll “never go to college or get married…or live on my own or fall in love or get my driver’s license”, Liz comes to recognize that “there will be other lives.” This maturing of her character, deepening of her self-awareness through coming to grips with her death, allows her character to be understood, liked and well-received by the reader.

Zevin takes the topic of the afterworld and creates a setting that has its foundation within the actual world. In doing this, Zevin gives the reader a frame of reference in regard to what Liz’s world may actually look like. To readers that are uncertain or disinterested in this genre, having mystical elements grounded in reality may be more appealing. In Booklist, Jennifer Mattson also notes that “the setting is an elaborately conceived afterlife called Elsewhere, a distinctly secular island realm of surprising physical solidity (no cottony clouds or pearly gates here).” By scattering some magical elements throughout the story, like the ability to use binoculars to view Earth or speaking to animals, Zevin skillfully reminds where the story is taking place, but does so not to overwhelm the reader with that fact.

Book jacket found on: http://www.iowa-city.k12.ia.us/schools/city/LMC/CityReads/BookGroup/BookGr.htm

Life As We Knew It

Pfeffer, Susan Beth. Life As We Knew It. Orlando, FL: Harcourt, 2006.

Living on the outskirts of a small town is not 16 year-old Miranda Evans’ idea of excitement, but she does the best she can to keep herself entertained. Her typically quiet town is abuzz with the news of the upcoming meteor that is supposed to strike the moon; her teachers even give her extra assignments all in honor of the moon. Everyone gathers outside to watch the asteroid hit and when it does, Miranda instantly understands that something has gone wrong. Scientists got the measurements wrong and the moon is knocked out of orbit, causing the weather patterns to change. Natural disasters, like tsunamis that completely decimate every coast, begin to pop up around the world. Soon, electricity begins to become sporadic and the price of gas skyrockets. The Evans’ family begins to eat less and less, trying to conserve the now-dwindling stockpile of food they gathered. Winter comes early and hard, causing Miranda and her family to live in a single room of her house. As supplies continue to deplete, friends and strangers begin to die and her family faces what could be a fatal illness, Miranda struggles to hold herself and her loved ones afloat. Near desperation, entirely exhausted and emaciated, Miranda continues to care for her family and chronicle their journey, which ends with just a little hope.

Adhering to the general rules for Science Fiction novels, Life As We Knew It does a fantastic job of creating a plot that is both plausible and scientific. Natural disasters are something that exists in the current world and even if scientists can predict or throw conjecture at one of these events, it is still possible for something tragic to happen. John Peter agrees with this in School Library Journal, saying that Pfeffer “crafts a plausible account of the local effects of a near-future worldwide catastrophe.” Not only does the plot hold fast to Science Fiction rules, it also does not forget the general YA plot rule; what Miranda and the other characters in the story face is one of self versus nature. Nature, in this case, also assumes a clear identity within the text. In fact, nature is defined so distinctly, it becomes a character in the story. It is almost as if the hero of the novel battles against the weather and the things that nature throws again her. This characterization of nature and its elements rounds out main conflict in the story, making the Evans’ struggle even more dire, since they have absolutely no control over their situation. This characterization and subtle personification of nature lends well to build the theme of the novel; science and nature can have significant, irrevocable and devastating effects on one’s life.

The day to day life of Miranda and her family are retold through her diary entries. As the author does so, the reader begins to understand that Miranda is just a regular teenager that was faced with a large obstacle. She meets the grim prospects laid before her with nerve and candor. Miranda is quick to talk about how she is falling into despair or how small things help her to regain faith. Pfeffer does a solid job of equally exposing the two sides of what Miranda is feeling; Miranda finds hope and joy in small things, but is sometimes just tired of having to work so hard for so little. Another theme that the book consistently returns to is one of finding possibility in the most dismal of situations. On New Year’s Miranda makes a resolution to “take a moment every day for the rest of my life to appreciate what I have.” Even though Miranda has next to nothing, she realizes that she has more than most and even though things look bleak she can find hope. By giving Miranda a duality of emotions, Pfeffer creates a full-bodied protagonist in which readers can invest.

Book jacket found on: http://library.fayschool.org/Pages/books_scifi.htm

Staying Fat for Sarah Byrnes

Crutcher, Chris. Staying Fat for Sarah Byrnes. New York City: Greenwillow Books, 1993.

Chubby Eric Calhoune has always felt like he was on the outside. He finds a kindred spirit in Sarah Byrnes (who prefers her whole name), who was scarred in a mysterious accident when she was very young. Feeling like outcasts, the two begin to write an underground newspaper Crispy Pork Rinds as a way to get their feelings out. Friends since middle school, Eric (often called Mobe) and Sarah find themselves at a crossroads during their senior year. After being recruited to the swim team, the formerly rotund Eric has started to slim down, begins building a relationship with a girl and finds tension growing between he and Sarah. Suddenly, during a class one day Sarah quits talking, going catatonic. Her doctors encourage Eric to talk to her, maybe to jog her out of her comatose state, which Eric does with loyalty. Eventually, Eric finds out that Sarah is faking her silence because she is terrified of her father, who was the one that scarred her. After an altercation with her psychotic father in which Eric is injured, Mr. Byrnes is captured and Sarah is finally safe with a new family.

Crutcher writes this work around a theme that is typical of this genre; Sarah Byrnes is having a crisis and her friend is trying to solve it. Most striking about the work is that though it sounds formulaic, the way Crutcher presents the characters and plots the story creates a world inside of a world. Using vivid imagery, the author brings us inside the school, swim practice and Sarah’s hospital room without missing a beat. Descriptive sentences like, “my frozen hair hugging my head like a bicycle helmet and my breath shooting from my mouth like exhaust from a truck,” bring the reader into the story and its atmosphere. The quick language and comical situations round out the oft-heavy story line, breaking up some of the truly grave and profound obstacles the characters face. Contributing to the fullness of the story is the addition of positive adults, like Eric’s swim coach and his mother’s boyfriend. These adults intervene when necessary, are encouraging, involved and are a stark contrast to the villainous Mr. Byrnes. Such a juxtaposition of characters and actions make the lesson within the novel less preachy and more substantial.

Eric and Sarah are categorized within their high school, but are revealed to be more than the characterization given to them by their peers. The same consideration of being more than what is seen is not given to every character in the story, however. In a controversial class which the main and secondary characters share, many of the Christians in the class are portrayed as ultra-conservative, duplicitous and humorless. Kirkus Reviews also point out this bias by saying Crutcher “doesn’t always play fair in developing his themes – all the conservative Christians are dupes or hypocrites.” Should Crutcher have developed some opposites to these one-sided Christians, like he has with the adults in the story, it would seem less like he was attempting to make a point in his writing. In a work where not everything is as it seems, having typical, flat antagonists does not match with the rest of the story.

Book cover found on: http://www.fantasticfiction.co.uk/c/chris-crutcher/staying-fat-for-sarah-brynes.htm

I'd Tell You I Love You, But Then I'd Have To Kill You

Carter, Ally. I’d Tell You I Love You, But Then I’d Have To Kill You. New York City: Hyperion, 2006.

Cammie Morgan is not a regular sophomore. In fact, she is far from it. Enrolled at what appears to be an elite all-girls boarding school, Cammie is studying to be a spy at the Gallagher Academy, an super secret school for girls with genius IQ’s. Mrs. Morgan (a former spy) works at the school as the headmaster, so Cammie is able to learn the ins-and-out of the school – which include a LOT of secret passageways. Cammie, along with the rest of her sophomore class, are finally entering the class they have been waiting for, Covert Operations, the class that teaches you how to really work out in the field as a spy. A new professor, handsome Joe Solomon, has taken over the class and takes the girls out for their first mission. Cammie and her friends Bex and Liz are teamed up to trail one of the most paranoid teachers at the school. Losing sight of her companions, Cammie happens to run into Josh, a townie who captures Cammie’s eye. When the excursion is over, Cammie, Liz and Bex decide to take their experience beyond the classroom and investigate Josh secretly. One problem though: Cammie ends up falling for their target. After a few weeks of leading a double life, Cammie finds herself wanting to tell the truth to Josh and begins feels the weight of such a secret on her back.

I’d Tell You does a fantastic job of giving life to the school, creating the setting of the spy school and the back story of the Gallagher girls in great detail. The school is so heartily described it nearly becomes another character; secret passages and chambers, the atmosphere inside the corridors and dorm rooms gives the reader an entrance into the world in which the girls live. Cammie describes her own room as having “cool dormers and oddly shaped windows where a girl can sit with her back against the wall and listen to the thundering feet and squeals of hello.” Still other developments in the story, like the background of the academy and its esteemed alumni, round out the setting with flair. Miranda Doyle agrees with this statement in School Library Journal saying that, “the invented history of the Gallagher Girls is entertaining.” Such descriptions about the surroundings of the girls allow the reader entry into the world in which they live. By using description this way, the novel (whose premise is nearly impossible) becomes a bit more realistic and tangible to the reader.

Adding to the tangibility of the story and resounding with sincerity is the main plot line that follows Cammie falling for her target, Josh. Young readers will find that they can, to a certain extent identify with the struggles that Cammie faces when thinking about and having a relationship with Josh. While readers may not be in school to become a secret agent, they may relate with the fact that Cammie can not truly be who she is around her beau, a theme that runs throughout the story. Readers may also find the reports done by the “operatives” amusing in their self-depreciation and a nice break from the regular text. What readers may not enjoy is the lack of action: in a book about spies action is slow and suspense is non-existent. Additionally, one may find that characters are not equally developed. Macey, a new student to whom Cammie takes an instant dislike, becomes her confidant in a twist unsupported by the text. Some may find the additional characters without depth and thin.

Book cover found on: http://readingkidsbooks.blogspot.com/2007/09/id-tell-you-i-love-you-but-then-id-have.html

Dairy Queen

Murdock, Catherine Gilbert. Dairy Queen. Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, 2006.

Working on a dairy farm alongside her nearly mute brother is not D.J. Schwenk’s idea of a great summer, but after her father hurt is hip, she does not have much choice in the matter. She dutifully takes care of the disintegrating farm, at the cost of failing her English class during her sophomore year, rendering her ineligible to play any sports. This is hard for D.J. to take, considering she comes from a family of jocks; her two older brothers were even town football heroes, although they never come home after a fight with their father. When the coach for the opposing team (who also happens to be a close family friend) sends over their quarterback, egotistical Brian, to work, D.J. is less than happy. After a brief confrontation and reconciliation, the two decide that D.J. should help train him for the upcoming season. Over the summer, the duo actually becomes friends and he enlightens D.J. to the fact that she is a bit of a doormat. After realizing that he may be right, she decides that going out for football is what she really wants to do. D.J. gains perspective, the ability to speak up for herself and the tenacity to go after what she wants.

The Schwenk family is not good about communicating with one another, causing several rifts between family members and making it hard for D.J. to say what she wants. Young readers may identify with this aspect of the flawed heroine, in that sometime it is hard for them to say what they are really thinking. Tense family interactions further show how the family’s communication skills (or lack thereof) have affected D.J. to her core. A quip from Brian to D.J. telling her that, “when you don’t talk, there’s a lot of stuff that ends up not getting said,” is indicative of D.J.’s reluctance to speak her mind. With a suggestion by Brian that she follows along blindly, much like the cows she tends to, D.J. begins to open her mind up to the possibility that she has the ability to do what she wants, not do what everyone else wants her to do. The reader is given a first-hand view into the journey that she takes in figuring out who she is and who she wants to become.

Most notable about the work is the fact that D.J.’s point of view and characterization is solid from beginning to end. D.J. never breaks character, saying things like "that was real nice" and never getting far from the character she actually is and was meant to be. Sometimes, when you have a novel about a character going through a change, the writer gets carried away with the metamorphosis and the character completely changes. D.J. does change and grow mentally and emotionally, but how she speaks and relates her thoughts to the reader remains the same, giving her characters' transformation more realism. In fact, her tomboy ways may appeal to a group of readers that find a lack of strong female characters like D.J. In School Library Journal, Amy Pickett is in accord with this idea saying the work may, “appeal to girls, like D.J., aren’t girly-girls but just girls, learning to be comfortable in their own skin.”

Book cover found on: http://blogs.skokielibrary.info/explorer/tag/awards/

The Earth, My Butt and Other Big Round Things

Mackler, Carolyn. The Earth, My Butt and Other Big Round Things. Cambridge: Candlewick Press, 2003.

Chubby, blond and unremarkable, 15-year-old Manhattanite Virginia feels completely separate from her family of dark-haired, beautiful successes. Making matter worse is the fact that her best friend has just moved clear across the country to Walla Walla, Washington, so she is alone to face her sophomore year at her very exclusive private school. Virginia has a burgeoning romance with fellow classmate Froggy, but the “Fat Girl Code of Conduct” she has written for herself prevents her from speaking with him in public. She adores and idolizes her older brother, Bryon, who is making a name for himself on his college campus. Everything is relatively normal (her mother, a prominent child psychologist, constantly brings up her weight, Virginia decides to go on a diet and her father attempts to remain blissfully ignorant), until Bryon is accused of date rape and has to move home. Virginia struggles to come to terms with the implications of what Bryon has done and the confusion that it has caused. Once bullied and overlooked by her parents, Virginia begins to make her own decisions and break out of the mold that she has developed over time, slowly becoming her own person.

Feeling as if you don’t belong, neither in school or at home, is a prominent theme in The Earth. Covered in a number of ways, you get the feeling that Virginia feels nearly invisible to her family and the other kids at school. Her brother, a former golden boy at Virginia’s school, was extremely popular and well-liked, while Virginia prefers to spend her time huddled in the restroom or helping a kind teacher in her classroom. At home she is left to her own devices, is reminded of her shortcomings by her parents and feels jealous when her best friend becomes friendly with other kids in her new town, because she is by herself. All of these elements bring together a characterization of someone who feels left out and alone, something that nearly every teen has felt at one time or another. Ilene Cooper agrees with this in Booklist , observing that readers “will immediately identify with Virginia’s longings as well as her fear and loathing.” The stylized writing, sections of the book appear in emails, instant messages and diary entries, and modern language will no doubt appeal to the young adult audience, as will the self-deprecating humor and straight-forward observations of the protagonist.

What feels a bit unlevel about is work are the number of issues that are covered and remain unaddressed in the text. Virginia engages in some self-harm, she burns her finger with a candle commenting that, “…at least the pain is concentrated in one spot rather than dominating [her] entire body” and also pinches herself so fiercely that she bruises. A kind doctor, whom her mother initially brought her to for diet advice, subtly and vaguely investigates, but no resolution is given. Additionally, Virginia’s issues with food and overeating are left mostly untouched, with the exception of her mother’s desire for her to lose weight. Bree, another seemingly perfect student, also deals with an eating disorder, but it is almost completely glossed over and is added in what appears to be an effort to give the extraneous character depth. Introducing characters and not providing them motivation, complexity or backstory causes some of them to become caricatures rather than full, rounded, active elements of Virginia’s life. Making marginal references to significant issues and neglecting to expound on their detrimental aspects will do no favors to the reader, especially to the reader who is suffering from any one of these problems.


Book jacket found on: http://www.candlewick.com/bookxtras.asp?isbn=0763619582&id=&browse=&view=jacket&jacket=./images/cwp_bookjackets/648/0763619582.jpg&bktitle=The+Earth%2C+My+Butt%2C+and+Other+Big+Round+Things