Showing posts with label **. Show all posts
Showing posts with label **. Show all posts

Monday

The Sandman: Preludes and Nocturnes

The Sandman: Preludes and Nocturnes
by Neil Gaiman
Graphic Novel. 239 pp.
DC Comics. 1991.

back copy:

Enter a dark and enchanting world of dreams and nightmares and meet the Sandman, master of dreams, and his kin—the Endless. This first collection of Neil gaiman's unique and multi-award-winning Sandman Saga introduces key themes and characters, combining myth, magic and black humor.

bn synopsis:
A wizard attempting to capture Death to bargain for eternal life traps her younger brother Dream instead. Fearful for his safety, the wizard kept him imprisoned in a glass bottle for decades. After his escape, Dream, also known as Morpheus, goes on a quest for his lost objects of power. On the way, Morpheus encounters Lucifer and demons from Hell, the Justice League, and John Constantine, the Hellblazer. This book also includes the story "The Sound of Her Wings" which introduces us to the pragmatic and perky goth girl, Death.

I picked this title up at the suggestion of a few friends because I've found myself interested in Gaiman's writing of late. ejwise said:
Gaiman, for the unitiated, is best known for his Sandman comic book series -- or for the more sophisticated, a graphic novel series. (It was serialized before it was bound into separate volumes based upon its many story-arcs.) This is a must-read!
In terms of story, I think I'd agree with him. The story itself is intriguing. Morpheus himself is fascinating. As I've thought about it over the weeks since I finally finished the volume, I mostly didn't care for the illustration style. And because of that, I found that I didn't particularly care for this book and will likely not carry on into the series.

Thursday

A Mercy

A Mercy
by Toni Morrison
Literary fiction. 167 pp.
Knopf. 2008.

flap copy:

A powerful tragedy distilled into a jewel of a masterpiece by the Nobel Prize–winning author of Beloved and, almost like a prelude to that story, set two centuries earlier.

In the 1680s the slave trade was still in its infancy. In the Americas, virulent religious and class divisions, prejudice and oppression were rife, providing the fertile soil in which slavery and race hatred were planted and took root.

Jacob is an Anglo-Dutch trader and adventurer, with a small holding in the harsh north. Despite his distaste for dealing in "flesh," he takes a small slave girl in part payment for a bad debt from a plantation owner in Catholic Maryland. This is Florens, "with the hands of a slave and the feet of a Portuguese lady." Florens looks for love, first from Lina, an older servant woman at her new master's house, but later from a handsome blacksmith, an African, never enslaved.

There are other voices: Lina, whose tribe was decimated by smallpox; their mistress, Rebekka, herself a victim of religious intolerance back in England; Sorrow, a strange girl who's spent her early years at sea; and finally the devastating voice of Florens' mother. These are all men and women inventing themselves in the wilderness.

A Mercy reveals what lies beneath the surface of slavery. But at its heart it is the ambivalent, disturbing story of a mother who casts off her daughter in order to save her, and of a daughter who may never exorcise that abandonment.

Acts of mercy may have unforeseen consequences.

It should not take three weeks to read a 165-page book.

I picked this book up because I heard Morrison on the Diane Reams show (which Dec tells me is being rebroadcast today). It sounded interesting to me, and because I'd never read any Morrison before, I thought I'd give it a go. To say I didn't like it would be somewhat of an understatement. Truth be told, the only reason I finished it when I did was because I wanted desperately to finish seventy books this last year.

Here's the deal. It is superbly crafted. Morrison knows how to put words together and create beautiful images. Case in point:
Reverend Father is the only kind man I ever see. When I arrive here I believe it is the place he warns against. The freezing in hell that comes before the everlasting fire where sinners bubble and singe forever. But the ice comes first, he says. And when I see knives of it hanging from the houses and trees and feel the white air burn my face I am certain the fire is coming.
Exquisite language throughout. The use of multiple narrators is executed with absolute precision and mastery. I still didn't like it.

For all of Morrison's grandiose mastery of her craft, I think that she failed to instill a soul in this novel. And so there was little to pull me forward and through the novel, little to help me engage emotionally with the snapshots of characters portrayed. I guess that's my beef with literary fiction in general—why should I waste my time reading an author who is writing for the sake of writing? Now, this is not what other readers and reviewers of Morrison will tell you in their effusive praise of her work. A few are linked below. So if you like this kind of thing, you're going to love A Mercy.

As a note, on Goodreads I gave it two stars. My actual like of the book would have merited one star. However, it's craft merits five stars. So I compromised at two.

Other reviews:
1morechapter | Powell's Books | Book Chronicle

Tuesday

Science Fair

Science Fair
by Dave Barry and Ridley Pearson
MG fiction. 394 pp.
Disney. 2008.

flap copy:

Toby Harbinger, an eighth grader at Hubble Middle School near Washington, D.C., is in big trouble. He made the mistake of selling his dad's priceless original Star Wars blaster to a lunatic who thinks he's Darth Vader and travels with a large, hairy sidekick known as the Wookie. Now the lunatic wants more from Toby, whose only hope of getting out of this mess is to win first prize at the school science fair: $5000.

But others want the prize too—a group of rich students and their super-ambitious, high-powered parents, who will stop at nothing to see their spoiled kids win. What these parents don't know is that an evil mastermind is using them to get hold of top-secret military technology as part of a fiendish plan to destroy the United States.

When Toby discovers this plot, he and his two best friends, Tamara and Micah, try to alert the school authorities, including the fearsome principal, known as The Hornet. But powerful forces are working against Toby and his friends: they're snared in a frame-up and get taken into federal custody, facing espionage charges. Meanwhile, the mastermind proceeds with his evil plan of destruction.

In a desperate bid to escape, the kids find themselves in league with a fairly mad scientist and two bumbling foreign dignitaries armed with cheese so smelly it is used as wolf repellent. With the seconds ticking away and the FBI close on their heels, this bizarre band sets off on a madcap mission to stop the science fair—and save the country—before it's too late . . .

I picked up this book because I rather liked Peter and the Starcatchers by this duo but found my interest in their writing dwindling as the series progressed. So I figured this would be an excellent opportunity to see if it was the writing or the story that had lost me. By the time I finished Science Fair, I realized it was the writing.

The story itself has an intriguing premise and quirky characters. But it just doesn't come together in the end. Furthermore, the wit and charm seemed to be largely MIA. When all is said and done, I felt the book was far too long, and I was just yearning for it to be over. (Stupid Must-Finish-the-Book curse.)

Other reviews (these reviews actually like the book):
Christian Science Monitor | What Mary's Reading | Provo City Library

Sunday

Chains

Chains
by Laurie Halse Anderson
YA historical fiction. 316 pp.
Simon & Schuster. 2008.

flap copy:

As the Revolutionary War begins, thirteen-year-old Isabel wages her own fight . . . for freedom. Promised freedom upon the death of their owner, she and her sister, Ruth, in a cruel twist of fate become the property of a malicious New York City couple, the Locktons, who have no sympathy for the American Revolution and even less for Ruth and Isabel. When Isabel meets Curzon, a slave with ties to the Patriots, he encourages her to spy on her owners, who know details of British plans for invasion. She is reluctant at first, but when the unthinkable happens to Ruth, Isabel realizes her loyalty is available to the bidder who can provide her with freedom.

From acclaimed author Laurie Halse Anderson comes this compelling, impeccably researched novel that shows the lengths we can go to cast off our chains, both physical and spiritual.

I picked up Chains because it's one of the NBA finalists. I was looking forward to it because of its author. Unfortunately, I find myself grossly underwhelmed by it.

For starters, I just wasn't able to connect to the story or Isabel. I realize that part of this is because the protagonist is a slave and is, therefore, unable to effectively control her own life. Typically with a story like that, though, you are able to connect a bit more with the protagonist's character and thoughts, but I found that to be lacking even. Plotwise, it was slow. In terms of supporting characters, I feel the book lacked nuance; characters were either good or they were bad. I guess you did get some middle ground with the minor minor characters, though.

On the plus side, the voice seemed unique and consistent throughout. And the typesetting is phenomenal. Actually, the typesetting is really the only thing I feel is truly worth commending this novel. Otherwise, truth be told, it was just a female version of Octavian Nothing, which holds the distinction of being one of the more boring books I've ever read.

Other reviews:
Abby (the) Librarian | Becky's Book Reviews | Jen Robinson's Book Page

Tuesday

Big Fat Manifesto

Big Fat Manifesto
by Susan Vaught
YA fiction. 308 pp.
Bloomsbury. 2008.

flap copy:

Feeling sorry for the Fat Girl?

Let's take care of a few myths right now, before you even start to stereotype:

Myth Number One. Speak gently to poor Fat Girl. She can't help her terrible disability.

Myth Number Two. Poor Fat Girl needs to be educated about her problem.

Myth Number Three. Poor Fat Girl laughs to hide her tears.

Myth Number Four. Poor lonely Fat Girl can't get a date.

Myth Number Five. All poor Fat Girl wants to do is lose weight.


Writing a column every week in the school newspaper about what it really means to be fat, Jamie Carcaterra—high school senior, star of her school's production of The Wiz, and features editor of The Wire—offers readers a searing and hilarious account of her full-size fight to change the thinking of a very thin world.
For starters, I'd say this book is far from hilarious. As a point of fact, I really didn't like this book. At all. Oprah's Kids Reading List be damned. I'm not even sure now how this book ended up on my To Read list, seeing as how I can't find any reviews of it in the blogs I generally haunt. Even more, any blogger who does mention it (at least the bloggers I'm finding on Technorati) couples it with The Earth, My Butt, and Other Big Round Things and Fat Kids Rules the World—two books that I truly despise, the former because all it has going for it is an awesome title and the latter because I think the book would have been better had the protagonist succeeded in flinging himself in front of the subway at the beginning of the book.

I do remember that one of the primary reasons I picked up this book is because of one of my biases (like I said before, we're all bigots in one regard or another, and I do recognize mine) and I thought that perhaps by entering into the psyche of a fictional character I might be able to learn some sympathy or empathy. That is the value of fiction, after all. But it didn't work. I found very little to redeem Jamie. Sure, her loud-mouthed aggressive manner is a front for her issues that she refuses to consciously acknowledge—thought the novel itself does highlight them—but I just found I couldn't like her. And I never got past her weight (she weighs nearly double what I weigh but doesn't have my height) or her judgment of her boyfriend for getting bariatric surgery. Truth be told, the more interesting and meaningful story would have focused more on Burke and his decision to get the surgery as well as the complications and aftermath of that decision.

Saturday

Repossessed

Repossessed
by A. M. Jenkins
YA fiction. 218 pp.
HarperTeen. 2007.

from the flap copy:

Don't call me a demon. I prefer the term Fallen Angel.

Everybody deserves a vacation, right? Especially if you have a pointless job like tormenting the damned. So who could blame me for blowing off my duties and taking a small, unauthorized break?

Besides, I've always wanted to see what physical existence is like. That's why I "borrowed" the slightly used body of a slacker teen. Believe me, he wasn't going to be using it anymore anyway.

I have never understood why humans do the things they do. Like sin—if it's so terrible, why do they keep doing it?

I'm going to have a lot of fun finding out!

This is another book I read ages ago (March 8). Consequently, I'm now left with fading impressions. I remember that it read fairly well. It wasn't my favorite book I've read. To be honest, I'm not even sure why it won an award as it didn't stand out to me as something phenomenal.

I like the idea behind the plot in that a Fallen Angel decides to hijack the body of a kid who was stepping out in front of a car and about to die anyway. He then gets to finally have a human experience. I like that this "devil" character actually ends up doing a lot of good in the lives he touches, albeit that wasn't his intention. Yes, he was a bit obsessed with sex (which is the great criticism that I recall coming across from other reviews I had read), but I didn't think it was as bad as the other reviewers made it out be. Besides, so few teenage boys aren't obsessed with sex.

Anyway, it's not my favorite Printz book I've read. It does have one of the sharper covers, but that's not necessarily a reason to recommend it.

Other reviews:
The Book Muncher

Friday

Broadway Nights

Broadway Nights: A Romp of Life, Love, and Musical Theatre
by Seth Rudetsky
Fiction. 339 pp.
Alyson. 2007.

back copy:

Mr. Conductor, if you please . . .

It's been said (actually, it's been sung) that when a Broadway baby says goodnight, it's early in the morning. But what about those nights? The thrill of being on stage, the adulation, the applause, the stage door fanatics . . .

Stephen Sheerin has no such life. Sure, he dallies on the Great White Way, but when he does have a job it's beneath the stage, subbing in the orchestra pit. Other parts of his life are the pits too—including his love life. Why does he always date men who already have boyfriends?

But now Stephen has been given the chance of a lifetime: to be the music director on a brand-new, Broadway-bound show. He couldn't be happier. Trouble is, Stephen doesn't do happiness well.

Completed May 4.

Whatever reviews I had read of this, they made it sound like this wonderfully written, gleeful romp. By and large, I was disappointed. I guess, when all is said and done, the writing was fine. The Broadway trivia was fun. But where I had issues with the book was with the protagonist. Knowing that, it shouldn't surprise you that I'm now going to complain about how I couldn't respect the character because I don't like books where the plot conflict stems from the character's inherent stupidity. I just have no sympathy for a guy who wants to bitch about how much his love life sucks when he insists on only dating guys who already have boyfriends. For years. If you choose to be the other man, you choose to be miserable.

What's truly unfortunate is that he gets the guy in the end. And not a guy who was dating someone else, but an actual good guy. He so doesn't deserve him.

So, the Broadway setting was entertaining and fun, but overall, the book was an exercise in not throttling the protagonist.

Other reviews:
Pop Culture Book Review
Gratuitous Violins
LGBT Book & Video Blog

Saturday

Gifted

Gifted
by Nikita Lalwani
Fiction. 273 pp.
Random House. 2007.

flap copy:

Rumi Vasi is 10 years, 4 months, 13 days, 2 hours, 42 minutes, and 6 seconds old. She's figured that the likelihood of her walking home from school with the boy she likes, John Kemble, is 9.2142, a probability severely reduced by the lacy dress and thick woolen tights her father, an Indian émigré, forces her to wear. Rumi is a gifted child, and her father believes that strict discipline is the key to nurturing her genius if the family has any hope of making a mark on its adoptive country.

Four years later, a teenage Rumi is at the center of an intense campaign by her parents to make her the youngest student ever to attend Oxford University, an effort that requires an unrelenting routine of study. Yet Rumi is growing up like any other normal teen: her mind often drifts to potent distractions . . . from music to love.

Rumi's parents want nothing other than to give Rumi an exceptional life. As her father outlines ever more regimented study schedules, her mother longs for India and forcefully reminds Rumi of her roots. In the end, the intense expectations of a family with everything to prove will be a combustible ingredient as an intelligent but naïve girl is thrust into the adult world before she has time to grow up.

In her stunningly elegant debut novel, Nikita Lalwani pits a parent's dream against a child's. Deftly pondering the complexities and consequences that accompany the best intentions, Gifted explores just how far one person will push another, and how much can be endured, in the name of love.

Gifted recently received the Desmond Elliot Prize, and the Chair of Judges said:
Gifted is a book of extraordinary range; it is touching, tender, funny and at the same time truly compelling. It covers the issues of duty and family loyalty, and the demands of an extraordinary talent, while holding at its heart the story of a young girl struggling with the agony of first love and her own, very particular, identity. Above all, it has a wonderfully bittersweet charm and for that reason Desmond Elliott would have loved it.
Unfortunately, I rather disagree with this assessment. I don't think there is really anything touching or tender about it, and it's a far cry from compelling (as evidenced by the five other books I completed during its reading). I also question anyone who claims that the novel is funny. Tragic, perhaps. But certainly not funny. (I found it to lack even a semblance of a sense of humor.)

I realize that my disappointment with the novel stems from broken expectations. Somewhere somehow I had gleaned that this is a YA novel, which it certainly isn't. I was looking forward to a story about a maths genius, but Rumi's awkwardness merely engendered pity and not camaraderie or desired association. Were it not for the occasional passage narrated from the perspective of Rumi's parents, I would have truly despised them. And there was nothing that could be considered an active plot; character studies have a tendency to bore me.

Perhaps if I were taking my Post-Colonial LIterature class again, I could find a way to really sink my teeth into this novel. Instead, I can merely commend the cover artwork. (Which, by the by, is totally cool. Those little amoeba things are made entirely of numbers.)

Other reviews:
Hidden Side of a Leaf
Sepia Mutiny
Caribousmom

Wednesday

Gingerbread

Gingerbread
by Rachel Cohn
YA fiction. 172 pp.
Simon Pulse. 2002.

I don't remember why exactly I picked up this book. More than likely it's because Cohn has a tendency to coauthor with Levithan, whom I adore. So I figured I would check out her solo stuff.

In Gingerbread, Cyd is living at home with her mom and stepfather after having been kicked out of boarding school. Something having to do with a boyfriend and an abortion, as I recall. (I read this in November, so the details are now a bit on the sketchy side.) She has a new boyfriend, but this creates tension at home, so she leaves San Fran to live with her bio dad in NYC. But he's not everything she dreamed of. Fortunately, she gets to know her half-brother who is pretty cool. Eventually she realizes that her mom and stepfather are actually quite supportive and loving, which is a good thing.

After reading Gingerbread, I realize that Cohn is the one who introduces the more whimsical and light nature to the stories she and Levithan coauthor. What I remember liking about Cohn's writing in Gingerbread is the development given to the supporting characters. They feel fleshed out, though they aren't necessarily, and Cohn has done this without relying on stereotyping or stocking them. In the end, the book isn't a must read, but it's an enjoyable and good read. I'll likely read the next book in the series just to see what happens with the characters.

Saturday

Someday This Pain Will Be Useful to You

Someday This Pain Will Be Useful to You
by Peter Cameron
YA fiction. 229 pp.
FSG. 2007.

flapcopy:

In re: James Sveck—eighteen-year-old New Yorker, charming, precocious, confused, doesn't quite fit in (doesn't really want to),

If: his future (i.e., college) seems completely meaningless, not to mention terrifying . . .

Then: he'll start anew (move to the Midwest?).

In re: James Sveck—misunderstood by a capricious mother, a self-absorbed father, a mordant older sister,

Et alia: his Teutonic therapist, his D-list celebrity grandmother, his unnervingly attractive art gallery colleague . . .

If: What one wants is enigmatic . . .

Then: Life can be hell.

But: as the summer gets hotter, James comes to recognize the wrenching truth of his emotions.
I read this book back in October. At this point, I don't remember much about it except that I wasn't all that impressed. I assume that it read pretty well, because I read it while I was in Vegas with Dec, but I really don't remember it so much.

Oh. I remember not liking the main character, but he is terribly socially awkward. Very in-his-head. Worth the Trip really enjoyed it, and I would agree that it is one of the most literary novels in queer YA lit, but I can't say that I would recommend the book.

Sunday

The Nixie's Song

The Nixie's Song
by Tony DiTerlizzi and Holly Black
MG fantasy. 162 pp.
Simon & Schuster. 2007.

I'm a fan of the Spiderwick Chronicles. I have fond memories of reading them on the subway from the Union Square Devil's Den to my apartment in Astoria. They read well, the story was good, and the illustrations were cute. This is also the first children's book-to-film adaptation that I'm actually inclined to see, because I think they can actually do this one right.

I was surprised this week while picking up Hale's new book to discover that there was a new Spiderwick series—Beyond the Spiderwick Chronicles. So I picked it up and brought it home.

It's actually a bit disappointing. The premise is that since the publication of the original Spiderwick series, kids are going around and having dealings with faeries. In theory, I think that's an interesting spin on the story. I'm almost for it. If each book in the series would take up a different story. But it's not going to be that way. This series will follow Nick Vargas and his new step-sister, Laurie. They have to find all the nixie's sisters and probably kill a bunch of giants in the process before the giants all wake up and burn Florida. I think a series with a number of random stories would have been far more interesting, but such is life.

What I found that I really disliked with this book was the self-referencing. I just have issues when the authors show up as characters in their own book. I realize that they do this to create a sense of Faeries Are Real and We're Merely Reporting These Incidents, but mostly it just chaps me.

Yes, I'll likely finish the series, because I do enjoy the writing. I hope the remaining books in this series pace themselves a bit quicker and better, though.

The Perks of Being a Wallflower

The Perks of Being a Wallflower
by Stephen Chbosky
Fiction. 213 pp.
MTV Books. 1999.

Written in the form of letters, The Perks of Being a Wallflower is a coming-of-age story that follows Charlie's freshman year as he begins to negotiate high school and new friendships and adolescence. The letter motif works well for this novel. I like how it creates an intimacy with the narrator and how it propels the plot forward when Charlie is able to feasibly skip over chunks of time and only convey those things that are truly important to understanding him.

By and large, I liked the book. I liked Charlie. I just can't say that I liked the twist that came at the end. Not that it was necessarily a twist, I guess, since I somewhat expected that revelation. But still, it really seemed to hit at an odd time and didn't quite feel right.

And I wonder how younger readers will take the book. I know that USA Today compares the book to classic works like The Catcher in the Rye and A Separate Peace, as indicated on the back cover. And I also know that the book shows up on a number of reading lists because it has a young protagonist. But a young protagonist doesn't make a book appropriate for younger readers. Of course, perhaps I'm mistaken. I mean, there must be something to it since it has apparently sold over 700,000 copies and is passed from teen to teen.

And really, I'm not surprised that it hit the Top 10 Challenged Books list in 2004 (for homosexuality, sexual content, and offensive language). Nor am I surprised that parents in Commack, New York, objected to it showing up on the optional summer reading list for incoming sophomores. Granted, I do wish that parents would actually start reading books before they object to them. Because the date rape that is listed as one of the objectionable scenes is really rather innocuous, especially when you consider Charlie's reaction to it.

Tuesday

The Straight Road to Kylie

The Straight Road to Kylie
by Nico Medina
YA fiction. 295 pp.
Simon Pulse. 2007.

from the publisher:

Life is fabulous for Jonathan Parish.

He's seventeen, out and proud, and ready to party through senior year with his posse of best girlfriends. But the year starts off with the wrong kind of bang when Jonathan—in an inebriated lapse of judgment—sleeps with a friend of his . . . a girl friend!

When word gets around that hot-but-previously-unavailable Jonathan might be on the market, the school's It girl approaches him with a proposal: pretend to be her boyfriend, and achieve popularity like he's never known. But popularity isn't what Jonathan wants. And suddenly, going back into the closet becomes Jonathan's only way to get what he's after—a trip to see Kylie Minogue.

David Levithan posted a bulletin on MySpace encouraging everyone to read this book. Because I adore Levithan's writing (even if I do find some of his worlds to be a little too far-fetched), I ordered it online and started reading it. Unfortunately, it would appear that I have different reading tastes from Levithan.

The book is okay. I'm not overly fond of the character, and I never really got to the point where I do like him. I think it has a lot to do with his overly-foul mouth. It likely also has a lot to do with his excessive drinking. And I'm bugged by that because at no point does anyone point out that a) underage drinking is not a good idea because it leads to stupid things or that b) if Jonathan hadn't gotten wasted, he would have never gone down this road of having to go back into the closet in order to have his sugarmommy take him to London to see Kylie. Seriously. And it's not as if this is the only time the main character gets wasted. In fact, he's always drinking with his friends. It would be nice if YA authors would stop glamorizing teen drunkeness. (Of course, the author of the book is barely old enough himself to legally drink, so I guess I can see why that point is glossed over.)

So this book, which is supposed to be fluff, seeing as how it was straight-to-paperback, took longer for me to read than it should have. In fact, I interrupted its reading with the delightful Austenland. Sure, there were some memorable scenes (my favorite being when he's "straight" but has somehow convinced three of the guys from the football team that they need makeovers and then they squabble in the dressing room over who's supposed to wear the purple shirt and who should wear the navy because of their skin tone—taking hyper-masculinized football players clothes shopping is actually quite fun, as I learned when I took Trainer shopping for a concert) and there were the touching messages of friendship and being true to yourself blah blah blah, but the book's weaknesses left a bitter aftertaste.

Wednesday

Dreamquest

Dreamquest: Tales of Slumberia
by Brent Hartinger
MG fantasy. 154 pp.
Starscape. 2007.

Julie Fray is experiencing quite a bit of stress in her life. Because of this, her dreams are rather bizaare and frightening, causing her to lose sleep. Then, one day, she wakes up inside her dreams at the dream studio where the nightmares are filmed. The actress who plays her in her dreams escapes out the rift and takes over her daily life while she goes on a quest to ask the producers to stop creating nightmares for her.

Normally, I'm a real fan of Hartinger's work, especially Geography Club, Order of the Poison Oak, The Last Chance Texaco, and Grand & Humble. However, I was grossly disappointed with Split Screen: Attack of the Soul-Sucking Brain Zombies/Bride of the Soul-Sucking Brain Zombies, and Dreamquest doesn't do it for me either. The story idea is creative; I liked that. And I'm willing to forgive the main character's passivity and timidity because I'm given enough to understand how these traits have shaped this character, and she does overcome them in the end to resolve her personal conflict.

But a book that is only 154 pages long should not feel like it's spinning its tires and going nowhere. . . . Can you stop my bad dreams? No, I only direct them. trek trek trek . . . Can you stop my bad dreams? No, I only write them. trek trek trek . . . Can you stop my bad dreams? No, that's what the people want. blah blah blah . . . So, in the end, it felt like this was just one wicked long book. And to think that they want this to be the first book in a series. Sigh.

My recommendation is to stick to Hartinger's good stuff, particularly Grand & Humble. Lowry does a much better job with the dream motif in Gossamer.

The Higher Power of Lucky

The Higher Power of Lucky
by Susan Patron
MG fiction. 134 pp.
Atheneum Books for Young Readers. 2006.

I must confess that I initially had no interest in reading this book, even when it won the Newbery Medal earlier this year. The storyline just didn't seem to call out to me.

But then the controversy erupted.

This book, as Nemesis points out, is porn. And it's there on the first page. Last word of the second paragraph. This book has the word--are you ready for it?--scrotum. Call out the censors and book burners now. I, and countless advocate groups, am appalled that some hoity toity committee somewhere would bestow such an honor on such smut. Because scrotum is a dirty word, you know.

Anyway, I think it's absurd that we now have an outcry because of such a clinical and blah word as scrotum, though I live in Utah and shouldn't honestly be surprised that people get their knickers in a twist over something so inconsequential.

Really, if people are going to create an uproar, it should at least be over something more substantial. We should all be indignant that this is the second year in a row that the Newbery committee has selected a boring book with no plot as the medal winner. Come on, people! Plot is a good thing--that's why writing conferences teach it and editors insist upon it (or at least should, because obviously we have two editors out there who don't).

At least this book, as opposed to Criss Cross, has a main character that you can care about. Lucky is compelled to find her Higher Power, the power that helps everyone in the 12-step programs change their lives for the better. And she worries that her Guardian, not being a parent, could one day decide to up and leave.

And I guess I exaggerate a titch when I say there is no plot--the last 40 pages or so have a plot.

The writing in this novel, also unlike Criss Cross, is pretty good. It reads at a good clip.

So, in the end, it's better than last year's Newbery, but it's not the best published last year.