young adult Archives - Page 11 of 19

Yzabel / September 18, 2014

Review: Afterworlds

My rating: [rating=2]

Summary:

Darcy Patel has put college and everything else on hold to publish her teen novel, Afterworlds. Arriving in New York with no apartment or friends she wonders whether she’s made the right decision until she falls in with a crowd of other seasoned and fledgling writers who take her under their wings… Told in alternating chapters is Darcy’s novel, a suspenseful thriller about Lizzie, a teen who slips into the ‘Afterworld’ to survive a terrorist attack. But the Afterworld is a place between the living and the dead and as Lizzie drifts between our world and that of the Afterworld, she discovers that many unsolved – and terrifying – stories need to be reconciled. And when a new threat resurfaces, Lizzie learns her special gifts may not be enough to protect those she loves and cares about most.

Review:

(I got an ARC courtesy of NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.)

Pretty interesting premise, but in the end I found the execution wanting, and the stories not that interesting, unfortunately.

I really liked the beginning: Darcy having to navigate her way in New York, meeting published authors as well as other “debs” like her (people whose book was to be published in the upcoming months), having to take editing and rewriting tasks into account… The first pages of Lizzie’s story were gripping, too, and I appreciated how we’re shown the final version of Darcy’s book, running parallel to her own editing of the first draft, with all the pitfalls that were in it (exposition chapters, huge info-dumps…) and were then removed. As someone who likes writing, too,
I couldn’t help but find this comment about the YA scene and authors’ jobs quite interesting. The book is full of little allusions to similar themes: Darcy obviously wrote her novel during NaNoWriMo 2012, the Darcy/Lizzie hint at “Pride and Prejudice” is totally acknowledged, the authors debate about what’s more important (plot? characters? conflict? setting?), and so on.

However, a lot of aspects in “Afterworlds” were problematic.

For starters, I’m not sure YA readers not specifically interested in writing would “get it”. Clearly it’s going to be a hit-or-miss here.

Also, the characters weren’t that impressive. Those from Darcy’s novel were rather bland in my opinion, and what I may deem “typical YA cut-outs”. Yamaraj: the mysterious love interest without much of a personality. Jamie: the best friend who, in Darcy’s copy-editor’s own terms, “has car, lives with father”, and not much more. In fact, Darcy’s novel would have deserved to stand on its own, because it would’ve allowed the author to properly develop its world and characters, and make it the gripping idea it seemed to be in the beginning. (I’m still convinced that opening scene in the airport is a proper attention-catcher.)

Darcy was definitely annoying: totally immature, without any sense of responsibility (she missed so many deadlines, such as the ones for college applications, lease renewal, and her writing was two inches from going the same way), jumping to conclusions, thinking in terms of the world revolving around her… Defects I would’ve happily forgiven, if she had learnt from them, but she didn’t. And in the end? In the end, Little Miss Lucky still got lucky, still landed an astonishing deal, still managed to waltz out of problems without that much of a hitch. All things that are potential insults at actual writers, the large majority that doesn’t land an agent after just a few weeks of querying, nor a $300,000 book deal for his/her first novel. I’m all in favour of selling dreams, but those were too much a matter of dumb luck, not of work and personal improvement. I didn’t root for Darcy at all. (I was also rather miffed at her plot taking a “let’s focus on the love relationship” turn. There were so many other things it could have focused on…)

Mostly, I felt that this book had great potential in being a pretty good parody, but couldn’t make up its mind about being one or not. Why a parody? For all the jabs at YA novels, at their shortcomings, elements I tend to notice as well when I read such stories. “Afterworlds” could be an excellent critique of the current market—a market I personally find saturated with cookie-cutter themes and plots (the same old kind of love interest, the same trend of characters whose questionable decisions put them in the too-stupid-to-live category…). Unfortunately, the way it is, it fell into the exact pit traps it (unconsciously or not?) denounced.

A note as well about a few questions raised throughout Darcy’s narrative. There was an interesting discussion about culture appropriation, and how Darcy’s use of Yama, an actual deity from Hindu mythology, amounted to erasing Hinduism, or at least part of it, from her world, by not openly acknowledging him as part of this religion. I found this point very valid. And yet, at the same time, Darcy herself represents a removal of cultural heritage: she’s of Indian origin, but apart from her surname and physical description, she’s the typical “white protagonist”. (She’s not religious, her family isn’t particularly religious either, they all behave like standard Americans in novels… In other words: why make her from a different culture, if it’s not to use it? Was it just for the sake of having a non-white protagonist… or, on the contrary, to point at how many other novels appropriate various cultures, only to “whiten” them?)

The underlying critique is definitely present, and something I can’t help thinking about, wondering if it was on purpose, or totally accidental. I don’t know how to take this novel, except with a grain of salt. I’m giving it 2 stars because of the parody it could be, one that made me snicker and nod my head in acknowledgment. But story-wise, I think it should either have been made a stronger read (as it was, it became boring rather quickly), or have gone all the way as a more obvious means of denouncing the many problems going rampant in the YA publishing industry. If it’s one, I’m not sure that many people will realise it, unfortunately (and especially not younger readers—not because they’re young, just because they may not have the necessary reading background to see the critique I mentioned).

Yzabel / September 6, 2014

Review: The Girl and the Clockwork Cat

The Girl and the Clockwork Cat by Nikki McCormack

My rating: [rating=1]

Summary:

Feisty teenage thief Maeko and her maybe-more-than-friend Chaff have scraped out an existence in Victorian London’s gritty streets, but after a near-disastrous heist leads her to a mysterious clockwork cat and two dead bodies, she’s thrust into a murder mystery that may cost her everything she holds dear.

Her only allies are Chaff, the cat, and Ash, the son of the only murder suspect, who offers her enough money to finally get off the streets if she’ll help him find the real killer.

What starts as a simple search ultimately reveals a conspiracy stretching across the entire city. And as Maeko and Chaff discover feelings for each other neither was prepared to admit, she’s forced to choose whether she’ll stay with him or finally escape the life of a street rat. But with danger closing in around them, the only way any of them will get out of this alive is if all of them work together.

Review:

(I got a copy through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.)

I had good expectations for this story (a street thief, victorian/steampunkish setting, part-mechanical cat), but in the end, it won’t leave me with a lasting impression, unfortunately.

The daughter of a prostitute and one of her unnamed customers, Maeko hit the streets after her mother got in debt, trying to help her pay it back as well as she could, but also resenting her. She made her way as a pickpocket and burglar, thanks to her nimble fingers and lithe body, and because she was street-savvy enough. That is, until the beginning of the novel, for at some point I thought she was not as clever as she was supposed to be. Some of her reactions seemed logical, but some of her other actions were too naive. (For instance, when she had to keep something from an enemy, she went back to a certain place, saw that said enemy had located it, too… yet she still went there to hide her package. The natural thing to do would have been to think “this place is compromised, he might not have believed what they told him, and come back later with more people.” At least that’s what “street rat thinking” should be for me.)

The setting itself is an alternate London divided between the Literati (the “modern society” and its police) and the pirates (those who openly don’t approve); the kids who fall between those are doomed to a life in an orphanage, reform house or work house, or to a life on the streets. Mostly we see this world through Maeko’s eyes, so of course everything couldn’t be developed, but it would’ve been better in my opinion if she had had just a little more interest in what happened around her, or if other characters had been there to give more information about that society. Some do… just not enough. This setting screams for more, having more to say about itself, without any room to do so.

The romance part was unneeded, a love triangle dumped out of nowhere on those poor characters. All it did was to make Maeko blush and blush and blush again and again. It quickly became old and tiring, and did not bring anything to the story. At least Maeko realised there was no time to think about boys in her predicament. On the downside, she had those thoughts fairly often, which created a tiresome cycle: “I think I like him. But I must not think about that now. But I think I like him. But I don’t have time to worry about this now.”

I wasn’t too impressed with the plot, which consisted mostly in two/three characters looking for people (the same people every time). Just like Maeko’s thoughts and blushing, it became repetitive after a while: locate people, see they’re already in someone else’s hands, realise they’re in no position to help them escape, retreat/get pursued by the police or detective, hide, rinse and repeat. I really wished the plot types would have been more varied.

The writing was all right, though a bit redundant and “telly” in places (especially when Maeko’s thought process was concerned).

The ending: if this is a standalone, then it deserved a better one, a proper one, that would wrap up everything, not just leave the reader to imagine “it probably happened like that”. If it wasn’t, it’s still a sort of cliffhanger, but one that doesn’t offer that many promises of revelations in a second book.

In the end, there were grounds for good things here, but those weren’t enough to make me enjoy the story.

Yzabel / August 20, 2014

Review: The Fault in Our Stars

The Fault in Our Stars by John Green

My rating: [rating=1]

Summary:

Despite the tumor-shrinking medical miracle that has bought her a few years, Hazel has never been anything but terminal, her final chapter inscribed upon diagnosis. But when a gorgeous plot twist named Augustus Waters suddenly appears at Cancer Kid Support Group, Hazel’s story is about to be completely rewritten.

Review:

I’m not at ease with cancer stories. That illness itself makes me shudder; I might go as far as to say I’m even mildly phobic about it. But I still wanted to check this book, after reading so many good reviews about it, and after I was told that it wasn’t so much about vivid descriptions of cancer itself. So, when it popped up at the library near my parents’ home, I seized the opportunity.

Well, I might be a horrible, callous person, because I just don’t get the whole tear-inducing, heart-wrenching hype around this novel. Or maybe whatever passes for a heart in my chest cavity was too busy rolling its metaphorical eyes at all the pompousness, which for me totally ruined the story. It made me wonder if a thesaurus was harmed, raped and defaced in the process. When using Big Words, the least one can do is to us Big Words That Actually Mean What They’re Supposed To Mean. (Definition of hamartia: the error in judgement that causes the hero to achieve the opposite of what s/he meant, leading to the actual tragedy. Not just any character flaw.) This is not how I, of all people, could be touched, not when I’m too busy wondering who the hell talks like that.

Hazel struck me as pretentious, and incredibly judgemental when it came to a lot of people around her. Gallows humour I could definitely take, understand, and appreciate—but this wasn’t humour. This was just demeaning. The way she spoke of the support group and of Patrick, as if his life had no value? Disgusting:

“…the relief that he escaped lo those many years ago when cancer took both of his nuts but spared what only the most generous soul would call his life.”

I sure couldn’t empathise with her attitude towards her parents at times (how dare they show feelings and cry; or wake her up at 5:30 in the morning to prepare and board the plane to go to Amsterdam; or send her to support group, instead of allowing her to basically be already dead in
her everyday life). Even her attitude towards her teachers, when she attended morning classes.

And the “metaphors”. That whole thing with the eggs and breakfast foods and me going “can we get to some actual point, and not some stupid rambling about a topic that I wouldn’t even tackle if I were completely wasted?” Or the hurdles:

“And I wondered if hurdlers ever thought, you know, This would go faster if we just got rid of the hurdles.”

That’s not philosophical. That’s idiotic.

The love-at-first-sight trope seldom works for me, and it didn’t work here either. It turned the narrative into something rather cheesy, especially with all the pompous dialogues. (Seriously, I’ve met my share of university teachers and educated people in general… and we just don’t talk like that, certainly not without preparing our speeches first. So teenagers, no matter how smart? Sorry, I just can’t believe it.)

Somehow, it reminded me of some of the stuff I wrote when I was 15-16, and found recently at the bottom of a cardboard box. I remembered those “pieces” as witty, smart, full of deep meaning. I remembered writing them with such goals in mind. I was good at writing, too; I always had top grades in French and Literature classes. Then I read those again—now, that is, 20 years later—and I realised how full of myself I was at the time, and how my Big Words And Sentences were in fact just so shallow. The characters here, and their way of talking and being, left me with the same feeling. They never seemed to leave the surface level. Now that I’m done with the book, I still don’t know what Hazel likes (apart from An Imperial Affliction and her favourite TV show), what else she used to do before being diagnosed, and so on. She’s defined by 1) her illness (though said illness looked kind of like a ploy to elicit emotion, rather than anything else) and 2) Augustus, and… What else? I have no idea.

I think it could’ve been a great story… only without its pretentiousness, without its flat characters, and without its tendency to take the reader by the hand to put his/her nose into the supposed deep meaning hidden within the pages. When you feel like a novel is trying to manipulate you, is when suspension of disbelief shatters.

Yzabel / August 16, 2014

Review: Tell The Wolves I’m Home

Tell The Wolves I’m Home by Carol Rifka Brunt

My rating: [rating=3]

Summary:

1987. There is only one person who has ever truly understood fourteen year old June Elbus, and that’s her uncle, the renowned painter, Finn Weiss. Shy at school and distant from her older sister, June can only be herself in Finn’s company; he is her godfather, confidant, and best friend. So when he dies, far too young, of a mysterious illness her mother can barely speak about, June’s world is turned upside down. But Finn’s death brings a surprise acquaintance into June’s life-someone who will help her to heal, and to question what she thinks she knows about Finn, her family, and even her own heart.

Review:

Overall I liked this novel. It is a story of pain, of love, with both touching and tense moments, and the way it tackles the theme of AIDS works well within the chosen context (1987). I was only 8 in 1987, yet I still remember that people were scared and didn’t understand what it was all about. I still remember asking my own mother, frightened, “Mom, will I get AIDS, too?” The whole fear and rejection permeating this novel, the way people considered this disease as “gay-only”… it all ties up within that scare, and some of the characters’ reactions are thus rendered mean not out of sheer nastiness, but fear, ignorance, and misunderstanding. As annoying as those are, they remain, well, human.

Indeed, the characters weren’t particularly likeable—there were times when I just wanted to slap them. Greta for being cruel instead of saying from the beginning what she really felt and wanted. June for being so self-centred and oblivious to other people around her, focused on Finn, Finn, Finn only—good thing she grows up a little in that regard. The absentee father, and the mother who was quick to judge. Part of me didn’t like them, yet part of me also found them flawed in a human way. They acted out of loneliness, out of love, out of jealousy—all too human, again.

I must say that I really liked Toby, who had to remain hidden and would have ended up alone in his grief. He seemed so lost, and his feelings shone through that loss with an acute honesty, underlined by genuine smiles and spontaneity. I perceived him as someone who had had to pay for one mistake, didn’t have much luck, who finally found true love, only to lose it again, and be shunned in the process. I don’t think he deserved that. Nobody does.

However, I think that the portrayal of AIDs in general, how it was perceived at the time, is a strength, but also a weakness in this story. While it made sense to me as an adult who remembers that period, I think it wasn’t properly exploited in a novel for younger people who didn’t live at that time. When you read this book in “my” light, it’s quite accurate in showing the irrational ways some people reacted; when you don’t have the necessary hindsight, it actually doesn’t do much to dispel all those “only gay guys get AIDS and OMG don’t touch them they’re dangerous!” notions. In that regard, I wish Tell The Wolves Are Home had gone further, shown more obviously how things changed for some of the characters, instead of relying on hints. Usually, I’m not too fond of novels that lay it thick; here, it may not have been thick enough, and the complex dynamics within the Elbus family (Finn included) weren’t fully exploited.

In fact, in my opinion, it would have needed to be more openly confrontational sometimes. Somehow, the characters didn’t really faced the consequences of their choices when it cames to shutting out good people out of their lives just for having AIDS. Somehow, they got away with too many shitty decisions, and this with barely some sliver of guilt. No, it’s not OK to threaten to kick your brother out of your life and deny him his nieces just for being in love, for being unlucky regarding sickness—nor to force the poor bloke he’s living with to stay in the cellar, pretending not to exist, while the girls believed Finn lived alone. How callous can people be? I really wish Danni would have been called on her bullshit there.

(Also, I could say the same for some triggers in it—that they’d have needed to be shown in a different way. Like, Toby and June smoking together, doing things together in secrecy. I got how Toby must’ve felt lost, and some people, when they’re like that, stop thinking and don’t always make the best decisions. June’s narrative should’ve made this obvious, yet didn’t. In turn, it just made it seem like he was potentially getting her into drugs, rape-inducing/paedophiliac situations, and so on. The girl being only 14 may explain her lack of insight; still, it’s a slippery slope, and could probably have been avoided.)

Still 3 stars for me because in the end, I liked it, I liked its depiction of the way everyone reacted to that specific disease in that specific era, no matter how ugly and stupid their reactions. But I’m not too happy about how some aspects panned out. Maybe because it’s YA—maybe it’s too focused on the “misunderstood teenager” side, instead of really going the whole way, that is, the mislabelled people whose “crime” was to have hit an unlucky spot and fallen sick.

Yzabel / August 15, 2014

Review: Accession

Accession by Terah Edun

My rating: [rating=1]

Summary:

Sixteen-year-old Katherine Thompson wasn’t trained to rule a coven. That was her sister – perfect, beautiful Rose. But when a mysterious plane crash kills off the heir presumptive of the Sandersville coven she has no choice.

After stepping in to fill her sister’s shoes, Katherine realizes she didn’t have a clue – faery wars, depressed trolls and angry unicorns are just the beginning.

For centuries, her family has served the high Queens on both sides of the Atlantic but it is a well-known rule that mid-level witches stay away from high-level Queens.

But when Katherine’s youngest cousin vanishes without a trace in the Atlanta court and no one wants to investigate, Katherine decides to step into the darkness on her own. She will soon discover that nothing, in a queen’s court, is as it seems.

Review:

(I was given a copy through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.)

This was a fast read, but I’m afraid to admit that’s because I ended up skimming after a while: I couldn’t stand the telling-not-showing style. Actually, I was this close to DNFing, and only finished because I felt I had to write a review.

There was definite groundwork here for an interesting world (the witch queens of the original thirteen colonies, having to maintain political balance between various factions of supernatural creatures…). It is a rich world, with a lot of tensions, differences between the Queens and how they rule their respective territories, alliances that may be toppled at the slightest change, diplomatic conundrums to keep in mind, and a potential political assassination (Rose’s death was pitched as an accident; I so can’t believe that).

However, I think this setting wasn’t exploited in a way that would have made the reading pleasant, mostly because of the pacing and the writing style—two aspects that tie into each other, in my opinion. I started sensing this problem in the first two chapters, and it got confirmed later, as more and more information was dumped onto the reader in the middle of scenes. For instance, there’s this one scene where the Queen is sentencing a secondary character, and while it should have been filled with tension, it got slowed down by Katherine remembering information about other courts and other events: it wasn’t uninteresting, but it definitely dragged the plot down. Other similar scenes suffered the same fate.

Also, Katherine’s character just didn’t appeal to me, both in personality and in how almost everything was introduced. She had a tendency to just voice out loud whatever went through her head, especially when she was alone, which looked really weird (this coming from someone who tends to think out loud, so if I find it bizarre, then it sure means something). She acted in immature ways, wasted time in useless bouts of dialogue. Worst, most of the time, I was told she was this and that, felt like this or that, supposed this or that character thought this or that… A lot of telling, and too little showing. It coincided with a few plot points coming out of the blue: we’re told she’s not popular at school, is picked on by teachers and at best ignored by a lot of pupils… but then, around the 25% mark, we suddenly learn she had a boyfriend six months ago. I think he should have been introduced sooner, since it was kind of important (all the more because of some big reveal later on).

As mentioned above, the writing consisted in much more telling than actual actions showing the characters as they really were, and I caught quite a few similes that looked pretty strange and useless:

“Their massive trunks were so wide at the base that the trees looked like the round teepees of the Native American shamans who came to Georgia once a year to renew the sacred 1850 concord of Coven-Shaman Relations.”

Some sentences/paragraphs I had to read three times in order to get their meaning:

“I guess I can’t ever call life in Sandersville boring again, Katherine thought wryly as she ignored an itch in her eye that she firmly told herself she’d deal with later. She didn’t want to draw attention to her presence in the room now. Besides, it was more than an itch. As long as she ignored the sensation it would wait and simmer, like an itch at the corner of her eye. That itch that represented more than a space of skin in need of being scratched, it was the patch on her mind and heart that was holding closed a dark well ready to burst open with the rush of emotions boarded up behind its cap.”

And the one mistake I really, really can’t deal with:

“The gator’s mouth might as well of been a flimsy stick…”

This book would have needed a couple more rounds of editing.

Conclusion: I skimmed, I unfortunately got bored, I didn’t really get a sense of a plot, and the writing style irked me in no time.

Yzabel / August 8, 2014

Review: Blood Crown

Blood Crown by Ali Cross

My rating: [rating=2]

Summary:

Androids have claimed power over what remains of the human race. They rule without remorse. They are the Mind and humans exist only to serve them.

But it wasn’t always so.

Before the android uprising, select droids, called Servants, were pivotal in engineering a new human race with nanotechnology enhanced DNA. The Blood Crown theorum was to be humanity’s crowning glory and the key to their survival in deep space.

But Serantha, Daughter of the West, was the last female to receive Gifts from her Servant and when the Mind mutinied, she was hidden away, and presumed dead.

Without Serantha there is no hope of the Blood Crown being realized so Nicolai, Son of the East, abandons his crown to join the rebel forces. He might not provide the future for his people he had once dreamed of, but he will not go down without a fight.

When Nicolai discovers Sera among a small compliment of kitchen staff, everything changes–but Sera’s Gifts were never completed and she is ill-equipped to face a legion of androids determined to wipe her, and every other human, out of existence.

Their only hope is the Blood Crown–but even if Serantha and Nicolai can realize their potential it may be too late to save mankind.

Review:

(I got a digital copy through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.)

This book throws you directly into the action, with little info dumping in the beginning: we learn information as the plot goes, and this is a method I tend to like. I found it easy enough to understand the premise of the story (the hope of enhanced humanity through nano-technology, the androids rebelling against their creators and taking control…). And the mastermind behind the android faction was devious enough to my liking. A little on the boasting side, yet with a tendency to keep a contingency plan on the side, and screw with the heroes’ minds a little more every time. I like that.

However, there were a lot of things I didn’t quite know what to make of, and those contributed to make me consider Blood Crown as a little sub-average, when I would’ve wanted to enjoy it more (from the blurb, I really hoped I would).

First, there were three points of view, but I felt that only Sera’s was really useful. Nicolai’s tended to rehash things the reader has already learnt, only with his opinion about it. Not completely uninteresting, but clearly unneeded. Archibald’s… Well, the way he saw Sera was sweet, and highlighted the possibility of feelings within machines, the “can an artificial intelligence be like a human or only copy it”; unfortunately, his scenes were often pretty short, made of waiting for events to happen, and not really useful either. Too bad; his presence could’ve been made better.

Sometimes, the characters’ actions were also hard to understand. Both Nic and Sera tended to jump into situations without thinking them through, not always because they lacked time, but because… I don’t know? And then I didn’t see any point to Nic’s lies, pretending he didn’t know who Sera was, when just explaining everything would’ve been so much easier and faster. For what reason? A very insignificant one, considering the big picture and what was at stake. It led to mistrust on Sera’s part, and to misunderstandings of a kind I don’t like: those that are here only to create artificial tension, not because they’re logical. In a way, the Mind’s apparent lack of logics (making humans cook food nobody would eat) seemed more believabe, in a “we’re superior to humans but in fact we imitate them because we want to be like them, only better, oh the irony” way.

I remain divided about the West/East thing: those terms don’t make much sense to me in space, and seemed a remnant of some USA & Eastern block thing, minus the Cold War. The ships’ names (New Oregon, New California…) and the Eastern peopel’s names (Nicolai, Natalya, Karenina…) definitely gave a very open feeling about that. Part of me is saying “sure, why not?”, while another still can’t really fathom it. Some thousand years later, in space, would we still care much about that? And what about the rest of the world? Where were people from Asian, African, or any other descent?

The pace was good enough until around 60-65% of the story… then it fell into too much romance. I didn’t mind the romance itself in hereas I do in other novels: both Nic and Sera had been kind of “programmed” for that from the beginning, with their symbiants acting to put them together, so, OK, not cool in terms of personal freedom, but not out of the blue either. Only what should’ve been a part mounting towards climax wasn’t, because both heroes were busy being romancy. At that point, I got bored.

In conclusion: interesting premise and good ideas that weren’t developed enough, and didn’t do it for me in the end. More like 1.5 stars.

Yzabel / July 31, 2014

Review: Deadly Little Sins

Deadly Little Sins: A Prep School Confidential Novel by Kara Taylor

My rating: [rating=2]

Summary:

It’s August and Anne is back in New York City for the summer, but she can’t escape the memories of the terrible things that happened at the Wheatley School last spring— and the possibility of being expelled looming over her. When an unexpected— and suspicious— turn of events gets Anne sent back to Wheatley, she’s determined to figure out what happened to her favorite teacher and only adult ally at the school: Ms. Cross.

After a shocking, gruesome murder with connections to the Wheatley School occurs, Anne is convinced there’s more to Ms. Cross’s sudden disappearance, and that her favorite teacher is in danger. But after an ugly breakup with Brent and a new, inexplicable distance between her and Anthony, Anne isn’t sure who she can trust. And even worse, Anne discovers evidence that someone at Wheatley is covering up what really happened to Ms. Cross— someone who will stop at nothing to keep Anne from learning the truth in this engrossing, unputdownable read.

Review:

(I got an ARC from NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.)

Still a page-turner for me: there was something quite compelling to it no matter what. Unfortunately, I didn’t like it as much as I did the previous two books.

I felt Anne had lost some of her intensity, and that her needing to juggle with her school work, friends and investigation looked less like a conundrum, and more like her detaching herself from everything, not caring anymore. The daily scenes with friends, frenemies and people who didn’t like her at school were mostly gone. Her “love life” made me wonder what the point to the whole (slight) triangle was, after all. Of course her character couldn’t get unscathed from the previous series of events, but this wasn’t the Anne I knew and had grown to love.

The mystery this time also seemed less satisfying, perhaps because it was less tied to Wheatley’s daily life and occurrences than those in the other books? It answered some questions, which isn’t bad, yet it also left a few other strings hanging. For instance, what about Alexis’s part in here, what happened to her afterwards? She’s one of those unpleasant characters with a past that explains some of their reactions and attitude problems, and it would’ve been interesting to see her part of the story given an ending as well. However, it’s like her arc was just dropped and never picked up again. Same with Anthony’s[Anthony’s (hide spoiler)], who barely appears anyway. And some characters were clearly introduced for the sake of being plot devices, like the rio of boys and their freshman girl target. This could have developed into more, yet never did.

Speaking of the ending, the big reveal and how it unfolded was sort of rushed; and what happened after, the offer made to Ann, was rather unrealistic. It hints at a potential new series, one that would happen on a whole other level, but I’m not sure if I’d appreciate that or not. Part of my interest for the series was the boarding school setting, so with this potentially removed, I don’t know…

I’m torn, really. I liked this series a lot, and I sort of liked this third installment as well, but it left me terribly unsatisfied, compared to the others, and way too flat. 2 to 2.5 stars here.

Yzabel / July 30, 2014

Review: Erased

Erased by Margaret Chatwin

My rating: [rating=4]

Summary:

There’s that moment – you know the moment – when you emerge from sub-consciousness and enter full awareness. Now imagine reaching that moment with a pounding head, throbbing body, hospital ID band around your wrist, and no memory. No idea why you hurt the way you do, or how you got where you are. No clue what your own name is, or who the people next to you are.
I’m seventeen-year-old Ryan Farnsworth, and that’s what happened to me. Now I have to walk a mile in my own, unfamiliar shoes; view myself through the eyes of a perfect stranger; live the life a former me chose. I also need to figure out why that former me tried to kill me.

Review:

(Book read and reviewed for {Read It & Reap 315} in the Shut Up And Read group.)

This is the second book I read by this author, and like the previous one, I found it very easy to get into the story, always wanting to read “just one more chapter” before having to put it down. There was something pretty compelling to the writing, to the way the main character went about his life (though I’d have a hard time explaining how exactly such an effect was achieved).

In any case, I found “Erased” to be an interesting take on the themes of amnesia and, most of all, second chances. Ryan, the main character, is just coming back from a three-month stay in the hospital after a horrible car crash, with barely any memory of his family, his friends, and what his old life used to be. All he knows in the beginning is that his accident was very likely a suicide attempt… but of course, he doesn’t know why he wanted to kill himself, and trying to reclaim his life, in between coping with his body that’s far from done healing, is already hard enough a job as it is.

And this is where things are interesting, because the cracks start quickly showing under an apparently pristine surface, cracks Ryan may or may not have noticed before. Now that he’s more of a watcher, someone who observes the lives of those strangers called “parents” and “brother” and “girlfriend”, he’s also able to see them for what they really are, or at least, for what they might have made him feel before. The teenager he used to be—popular, football star, with plenty of friends and a gorgeous girlfriend—may not have been such a stellar person. Ryan’s brother is clearly hostile, in a justified way that Ryan just can’t understand because, well, he doesn’t remember, all that simply. And then, there’s Paige, the first person Ryan actually makes friends with post-accident, the one he remembers making friends with, which makes a huge difference.

Ryan was given a second chance, one to make things right, or at the very least to realise what was wrong before and not go through the same mistakes again. However, the other thing I really liked in this story was how things seemed very black and white at first, yet always had another edge, depending on whose point of view you relied. For instance, Ryan’s father behaves in a very encouraging way, motivating his son to go through physical therapy, to try and do things by himself (climbing stairs…) and not get caught into remaining physically weakened; Ryan used to be an excellent football player, one who could’ve easily gone to college on a scholarship thanks to that, and his father keeps reminding him of that in order to make him claim back his old life. Only Ryan isn’t so sure anymore he liked football that much, and feels under constant pressure… but he also doesn’t dare tell his father this, caving under this very pressure, when communication could’ve been key here. The same way, both his parents try to help him by throwing a party for him to meet all his family and old friends again, so that he can get reacquainted with them. The result? Ryan feels at unease, overwhelmed, starts to resent their decision—but he doesn’t tell them that meeting those people one by one, gradually, would’ve felt better for him. And Lucas, well, Lucas appears like an asshole to Ryan, for sure. However, his attitude made me wonder: how would I react if someone who had treated me badly for all my life suddenly waltzed back in without any memory, any regret of what s/he did to me? Lucas’s position was one of terrible pent-up frustration with no real outlet, in fact.

Nobody’s perfect here, people keep making mistakes, trying to clutch at memories, at a former life that won’t come back, or not the way it used to be. I thought it was an interesting take on this theme of how to live with amnesia, how to find oneself, and also how good intentions can quickly become hurdles, because nobody’s really equipped to react “the right way” to such trials. There isn’t even a “right way” at all in my opinion.

On the downside, the copy I got could’ve done with another round of edits. I found several typos, mistakes and formatting errors that became annoying after a while. I don’t know if it was my file only, though, or if other editions have the same problem. (It wouldn’t be the first time a file reads oddly on my phone, but not on another tablet. I’ve had it happen regularly with galleys, among other things.)

Then I was torn regarding my feelings about Ryan’s relationships with Paige. What I found more important here was the way things changed between Ryan and Lucas, whether such loathe between brothers could be mended or not, and this was a very moving and beautiful story to read. On the other hand, I felt Paige to be somewhat… just there. As a friend, she was all right; as a love interest, I was never sure if this was a good choice, if it was really that useful. I also wondered about a few other characters in the book, a few other relationships that could’ve been explored deeper (Ryan and his mother, or some of his former friends, mostly): I expected Ryan to pay more attention to those, whether it was to try and get his memories back or to understand better what kind of person he was before and what kind of things he did.

Overall, I’m giving this story 3.5 stars. I’m rounding it to 4 here because, in spite of its shortcomings, I really liked seeing how Ryan discovered the boy he was before, struggled with the idea, yet still tried to get past it and become a better person by learning from his former self. Basically, he had to function differently (if only because he couldn’t rely on even simple physical actions like keeping his balance), and I think he went through this in believable ways, including bouts of depression, of denial, but also of acceptance and will to become a new person, a self he could look in the face without being ashamed.

Yzabel / July 23, 2014

Review: Tabula Rasa

Tabula Rasa by Kristen Lippert-Martin

My rating: [rating=2]

Summary:

The Bourne Identity meets Divergent in this action-packed debut thriller with a Katniss-esque heroine fighting to regain her memories and stay alive, set against a dystopian hospital background.

Sarah starts a crazy battle for her life within the walls of her hospital-turned-prison when a procedure to eliminate her memory goes awry and she starts to remember snatches of her past. Was she an urban terrorist or vigilante? Has the procedure been her salvation or her destruction?

The answers lie trapped within her mind. To access them, she’ll need the help of the teen computer hacker who’s trying to bring the hospital down for his own reasons, and a pill that’s blocked by an army of mercenary soldiers poised to eliminate her for good. If only she knew why . . .

Review:

(I got a copy through Edelweiss, in exchange for an honest review.)

Good idea and interesting beginning, but the second third kind of dragged in my opinion, and the ending was, well, wrapped up in a trope that made me really roll my eyes.

I liked the premise of PTSD victims being given a second chance (whether “true” victims or perpetrators) by having their memory removed—or at least, all the memories pertaining the trauma and/or crime. And in the beginning, nothing is certain as far as Sarah, the narrator, is concerned: was she so psychologically damaged and abused that she couldn’t function even with normal treatments? Or was she some hardboiled criminal, considering how despised she was by some of the hospital’s personnel? I thought the ambiguity was well-played here, because both reactions were present: nice doctors and nurses making small talk with her, while others would scowl and prevent her from having contact with other patients. Her skills, too, were ambiguous: they could be those of a burglar just as well as those of an acrobat, after all.

However, I found the pacing after that rather problematic, being a blend of action scenes interspersed with slow moments in which info was dumped and nothing really interesting happened. The mandatory YA romance subplot felt boring, too, and as is too often the case didn’t bring anything to the story. On the one hand, I get that it was part of Sarah’s development and return to her true self, something to make her feel like fighting and not give upt, but… on the other hand, does a person in such a situation really need some love interest to do that? Why did it have to be romance? One that sprang in a couple of days or so, no more. I don’t dislike romance plots; however, most of the time, they’re not really useful, and are of the marketing ploy kind, “because romance sells”, instead of being fully part of the story. Here, that was exactly my impression. Budding love? Sure. Full-blown romance with “I love you” and feelings that the person is/was The One, in less than 72 hours? Doesn’t work for me. In this type of setting, survival is key, and professing love just like that was kind of cheesy anyway.

Some of the plot points were fairly predictable, along with conveniently placed flashbacks and special snowflake syndrome (after a while). Add to this a few mind-boggling moments, such as soldiers not even taking someone’s pulse to see if that person’s indeed dead (huh?). Also, I didn’t like the ending—more specifically, the part where the Big Bad nicely explains what the plan was all about. I want explanations, of course, only I prefer them to be shown to me, not unveiled in a gloating villain speech. It’s been done too often for it to work, not to mention that the villain’s motives were… too basic.

On the bright side, somehow I still managed to like Sarah and Thomas. They had a “no bullshit” streak, in that they planned to get things done and acted on those plans, and didn’t mope around while being useless. I’m tired of heroines who don’t get anything done themselves, and Sarah was all but that. Which is why I’m leaning towards 1.5/2 stars here.

Yzabel / July 20, 2014

Review: The Girl From The Well

The Girl from the Well by Rin Chupeco

My rating: [rating=3]

Summary:

You may think me biased, being murdered myself. But my state of being has nothing to do with the curiosity toward my own species, if we can be called such. We do not go gentle, as your poet encourages, into that good night.

A dead girl walks the streets.

She hunts murderers. Child killers, much like the man who threw her body down a well three hundred years ago.

And when a strange boy bearing stranger tattoos moves into the neighborhood so, she discovers, does something else. And soon both will be drawn into the world of eerie doll rituals and dark Shinto exorcisms that will take them from American suburbia to the remote valleys and shrines of Aomori, Japan.

Because the boy has a terrifying secret – one that would just kill to get out.

The Girl from the Well is A YA Horror novel pitched as “Dexter” meets “The Grudge”, based on a well-loved Japanese ghost story.

Review:

(I got an ARC of this book through Edelweiss, in exchange for an honest review.)

Not so much “terribly scary” for me in the end, in that I don’t scare easily, yet fascinating nonetheless for its depiction of ghosts, the appearance they have after death, and the imagery it conjured. I could fairly easily picture Okiku, the murderers she targeted and got revenge on in place of the dead children, said children literally latched onto those men’s necks and linked to their limbs by spirituals cords… And the woman in black… well, all right, that one I’d definitely attempt to draw someday, although I’m not sure I could do her justice. I think the way the story was told, too, contributed to this: somewhat cold and detached, and special, because it’s a strange mix of omniscient and first person point of view (the story’s told by Okiku herself, who’s able to observe other characters and their reactions, and sense their thoughts and feelings). In any other story, it probably wouldn’t have worked for me; here, it did, because it seemed to fit with the ghost’s paradigm. I don’t know if other readers in general would like it, but as far as I’m concerned, it partook the fascination I had for this novel, through descriptions that were just the right length and just suggestive enough (all the more for the intended YA audience), without falling into the realm of “too much”.

The Girl From The Well is loosely based on a well-known Japanese legend, that of a servant girl who worked for a lord, and was tasked with keeping ten precious plates; she was tricked into believing she had lost one of them, and was put to death for her “carelessness”. As a result, she became a vengeful spirit who drove her former lord to death—and the number 9 sends her spirit into a frenzy. This was nicely reflected in the book, in that Okiku tends to count whatever she sees (people, items…), and the accursed number indeed makes her react violently. Forever detached from both human world and and elusive afterlife, she can only watch, in between enacting revenge throughout the world on people who’ve killed children, but were never punished for their bad deeds. The Smiling Man, especially, was of quite a scary persuasion—I find smiles way more frightening than other expressions whenever such characters are concerned.

However, this isn’t exactly Okiku’s story. Hers was already written, already told, and this is more a “what would happen some three hundred years later, how would such a vengeful spirit evolve with time.” Partly to her own surprise, she finds herself drawn to Tarquin, a boy with strange tattoos, and whose fate is doomed to be a dark one if what plagues him isn’t destroyed in time. (Note: there’s no romance involved—a very welcome element in my opinion. It would just’ve been weird and misplaced in such a story.) Odd things happen around Tark, his own mother has been locked in an institution and has tried to kill him several times, and he just doesn’t understand much to what’s happening. But other people slowly start to notice the presence that haunts him, those people being mostly Okiku and his cousin Callie, and it’s up to them to try and understand what his problem his, and how to solve it, which involves going back to his roots.

On the downside, I wasn’t too convinced by the characters in general, in that they seemed more driven by the plot than people with their own lives. Okiku’s involvement was also somewhat problematic, since she was mostly a watcher and didn’t act as much as I expected her to. I think I would’ve liked her nature as a vengeful spirit to show through more than it did; for instance, one of the vengeance scenes made me feel like it had been put there as some kind of reminder, and not really as part of the plot. There was also one huge blunder that could’ve been easily avoided if only one of the characters had spoken out loud about a specific event, yet didn’t for… no reason? I don’t mind characters making honest mistakes, but not when the latter are the product of unexplained reasoning.

Overall, I had a hard time putting this book down, and remained fascinated, though with hindsight, those aspects I mentioned prevented me from rating it higher. (3.5 stars)