katticus

[katticus]

no more ‘vampires who correct history books’

more vampires who don’t remember more vampires saying ‘i don’t fucking know man, google it’ more vampires not remembering important historical figures more vampires not recalling centuries worth of history more vampires saying ‘ that was at least 300 years ago, how the FUCK could i remember that detail?’ more vampires whose brains work like human brains

[katticus]

The Cresswell Plot - Eliza Wass

It took me a few months to figure out what was on the cover, and I'm still not sure I know. But that's not important. What's important is that Wass found a way to capture domestic abuse in such a way that was captivating and extreme to the point of fascination. This wasn't a story about a girl whose dad beat her, or a boy who was sexually abused by his mom. This was a story of a cult family whose patriarch was out to kill his own children in an effort to get them to heaven. This was a story about a girl trying to escape the grasps of an abusive and manipulative father, wrapped in the shiny paper of an unknown to the populace world. It wasn't until I was roughly two-thirds of the way through this book (which I absolutely could not put down, even though class had started) that I realized what the story was actually about; what it stood for. I had just finished a few other suspense YA novels and was expecting this to be the same, but I was entirely unprepared for a story of this one's weight. Better yet, Wass focused largely on the power of manipulation and persuasion, something that is often disregarded as abuse and left on the table at face value. Plot points that were obvious to the reader were unknown to the children, which didn't build suspense so much as increase the reader's sympathy toward the characters. This wasn't a book of suspense, it was a book of truths. It was a book of awakening- As I'm writing this, I'm realizing that I'm speaking as though this was a work of nonfiction. Maybe that's why I read it so passionately - I wanted it to be real. Which is kind of twisted, once you actually read the book. Maybe Wass intended nothing to come of this. Maybe she just thought it'd be a neat story. But all the same, this book touched me in unforeseen ways from when I ordered it as a part of a Barnes and Noble promotion to when I closed the back cover. It's going to be awhile before I can find another book to match this one. I still don't understand the cover.

[katticus]

Scarlett Epstein Hates It Here - Anna Breslaw

The literary equivalent to a cut scene in Harvest Moon.

This book, along with probably half of my reading list, was a Target impulse buy during a trip that started with wrapping paper and deodorant turned into three books; a pair of socks; two sodas; wrapping paper; six cans of dog food; two things of deodorant; and a sixty-dollar charge on my credit card. It was Target - what can you expect?

So, the review.

Was it worth the $14.39 of a Target hardcover? Yes. But not for the reasons you think (insert click-bait link here).

Scarlett Epstein (as I’m going to refer to the book) falls into the subgenre of, you guessed it, contemporary realism. But don’t confuse this one with another John Green sap story. Where many other contemp real YA novels play up the quirks and oddities and weaknesses and flaws in order to make the reader fall in love with the character and her story rather than the story and its characters, Breslaw takes the subgenre from a separate angle. Scarlett Epstein offers a glimpse into the life of a teenage girl - that’s it. No set up, no build up. Yes, there’s a main plot with a rise and a fall. Yes, there are subplots with their own rises and falls. But what makes Scarlett Epstein different is that not all of these plots find a resolve. You exit Scarlett’s life the way you came in: sudden.

Like a switch turned on, you’re thrown into this girl’s life - her high school friends (friend; despite taking a different approach to the contemp real world, Scarlett remains the ever-awkward, ever-unfortunate main character whom everyone falls in love with. Except not that last part. We’ll get to that), her erratic mother, her father and his nuclear second family, and of course her biggest crush. But also, she writes fanfiction.

Let me touch momentarily on the fanfiction part of the book. Yes, I read Fangirl (Rainbow Rowell), so I’ve already been shown that world through the lenses of a YA author. But there’s something different in Scarlett Epstein with regards to the fanfiction. It’s actually good, and it’s unique. It’s not an obvious play on Harry Potter, as in Fangirl, with its similar characters and plot and ships and whatever else Rowell wrote that was basically HP (I know, there’s been backlash about this with Carry On being a full fledged novel now, but I don’t have time nor motivation to really get into it. I’d rather enjoy both separately, even if the similarities are unmistakable). “The Ordinaria” works as a separate story within the story itself; that is, until Scarlett begins to insert her real life into the story. Her online friends/readers begin to call her out for doing so, but as it turns out, her choice to include her own life in her writing works itself into the plot and gives the book somewhere to go. Her writing is not a hobby that gets in the way of her living her life; rather, Breslaw seems to understand that for fanfic writers, it’s an important part of her everyday life and that’s just how it is. Sure, Scarlett hits writer’s block, but she doesn’t “find joy in a real life instead of a virtual one.” That idea needs to be laid to rest.

All of that aside - and that does contain the most I can say about the main plot without getting into much detail, other than saying it does involve a significant amount of high school drama, albeit short lived - there’s only one side plot that resolves. One. Out of, maybe, three. Mind you, my one qualm about the book is the predictability of this one resolution, but at the same time, sometimes life offers timely resolutions. What other books fail to capture when trying to depict real life is that the book is not a start to finish story. Too many novels offer a set up, rise, fall, and clean ending. Yes, the book should start close to the main event’s beginning, but Breslaw does an excellent job of starting where the trigger occurs - in our case, the end of a TV show. This trigger point is beautifully interwoven within the rest of the story, affecting everything and nothing all at once. Were the show not to end, would all of these things still ensue? Probably. The fanfiction would just be different. That’s it. The story within the story would be different. So that’s not an important place to start necessarily. Which makes it the perfect place to start. By not starting with a first semester at college (Fangirl), a move to a new state (Twilight), a joining of a club (The Fault in Our Stars), or someone else moving in (Pride and Prejudice), Breslaw offers a literal opening and closing of the curtains to someone’s everyday life. It doesn’t start at _______ and end at _________; rather, it started at some point and oh hi there, reader, I didn’t even see you, welcome. It’s the difference between a Burger King drive thru and a Mom & Pop BBQ house. Do you want to start and end, or do you want to sit for a while and then leave?

All in all, yes, I liked it. I didn’t devour it, but when I’d pick it up I loved it. I thought I’d have to read it again before posting, but that might be the best way to describe this book: “I’m halfway through and I still can’t remember who Gideon is, but I’m enjoying this.” To put it simply: I’d read another of Breslaw’s works. To put it in a complex, could-philosophize-for-hours, four word sentence: Life doesn’t always resolve.

[katticus]

Asylum - Madeline Roux

You know those books that aren’t that great but you can’t put down? Yeah.

I say “not that great,” but to be honest, this book was as a whole disappointing. That sick cover, those glowing reviews- I try not to compare books, preferring to instead have an objective view on each book by itself, but coming off of Merciless and Diary of a Haunting (review to come at some point….), I was irritated with this book. At the climax, I laughed. That about sums it up.

I’m not talking Twilight level. I’m not saying this book was written with the same literary quality (or lack thereof) of Fifty Shades. Asylum was well written and fleshed out, with defined supporting characters (the main character was lacking, I must say)-

I’m going to stop myself there. The characters were typical archetypes - smart, artsy, edgy but beautiful, mysterious but not girl; gay boy (I can’t think of any other way to describe Jordan); and confused about everything, probably including sexuality, male protagonist. When the antagonist is revealed, there is no shock factor. The ten pages of climax rose and fell with angles resembling a needle - straight up, straight down. Twenty pages from the end: quick tension with an equally quick release, followed by a short patch-up job and attempt to lure you into the second book. But that book will not find a home on my shelf.

Don’t get me wrong - I finished this book. I tripped a few times walking to my car from class while reading. The spine is thoroughly broken in for a first read. It’s a good book. But here’s the problem: I’m not really sure what the plot is. When I was halfway through, a friend asked about the book, to which I replied I wasn’t really sure. “A boy goes to a college prep summer camp and ??? I’m halfway and nothing has really happened,” to which he replied, “Watch nothing happen. You get to the end and there’s just nothing.”

...............

I messaged him after finishing to tell him that he was right, nothing happened. Roux attempted to combine contemporary realism with horror, the latter of which seems to have regained traction in the young adult literary world as of late, but failed to accomplish this in a mere ~300 pages. The setting, characters, and plot all required deep exploration in a way that was not conducive to the overall goal of the book. I think that goal was to frighten readers, but the horror YA books I’ve read lately do not develop the characters. And it’s good that way. I’m not watching a horror movie to get attached, and I’m not reading a horror story to feel connected to the characters as they fall into despair. I want the fear, I want the rush.

Archetypes exist for this purpose, and Roux did use them appropriately. But she took it a step further. I don’t need the inexperienced boy character fleshed out, or the nerdy girl explained to be surprisingly sweet and beautiful, or the what-have-you being whatever-they-are. The point of an archetype is to make the reader comfortable in knowing enough of the character that little else is needed. This was an oversight on Roux’s part, and thus she lost my attention.

There are other things to remark upon, but this I feel is sufficient. It’s a good book, it really is. But that’s all I really have to say about it. Beyond that, I’m excited to read more into the horror trend and uncover the gems inside.

[katticus]

The Merciless - Danielle Vega

I’m having a rotten day, so let’s take about demons.

I know, I’ve fallen behind on my reviews, but to be fair I’ve got two other books to write on after this one. So at least I’ve been somewhat productive.

That aside, this book.

This book.

I knew nothing about this book aside from the cover was really pretty and I mean, it’s bright pink. So I spent the money I didn’t have and picked it up as an impulse buy at Target. I then read it in a week, which is majorly impressive for me given the amount of homework I had (and consequently didn’t do). What’s more is that I don’t finish books that fast unless it was amazing. So while I didn’t connect with any of the characters, this book was fantastic.

The plot follows our heroine, Sofia, who transfers to a new school and makes dangerous new friends who end up trying to exorcise this punk rebel girl, Brooklyn. Yes, that’s the plot. I bought this book. What even.

When I say I didn’t connect to the characters, that’s not entirely true. I sympathized with the indescribable fear in Sofia. I watched Riley’s psychopathic sadism unfold. I felt the fight for good versus evil in Brooklyn as the reader tries to decide which she is.

This book is more than just a scary story - it’s a psychological thriller that leaves you lusting for more. The reader is almost forced to pick a side, and the book finishes with a resolution that leaves you feeling guilty or smug. Either way, if you are not unsettled in the slightest by this book, you should probably read it again.

This review is poorly written, I know. I’m sorry. But really, just read this book. Despite what the rest of my posts may say, this is actually one of the best books I’ve read in a long while.

[katticus]

I Promise This isn’t Sad but We’re Talking about Divorce

So here’s the issue: my parents are in the middle of a pending divorce and I need a book to read that I can relate to.

So here’s the solution: ..........

From what I can tell from my brief Bing search, there is no non-cheesy, non-cliche, non-super-annoying book about a teenager/young adult going through a parents’ divorce (and yes, I’ve tried looking through Google too). Which got me thinking: where are the John Green of the real issues? The Hazel Graces of a breaking family? The real talk for real teens with real problems, instead of just cancer and suicide (which, of course, are just as important if not more)?

Not even divorce though - it doesn’t seem as though there’s a real talk book out there for teens anymore, if there ever was one. Suicide; bullying; depression; abuse, sure. But divorce? Alcoholic parents? Abandonment? Eating disorders that don’t classify as eating disorders?

Not only that, but what about friends with depression? Friends who are bullied? Friends with eating disorders? Why is it that every story that regards anything that could be considered “real talk,” the person experiencing the issue is the one telling the story? Where are those stories?

In revisiting the idea of contemporary realism in young adult literature, the goal of these books is to develop a memorable character with whom we can related. I need someone I can turn to in times of trouble (Mother Mary comes to me), but in those cases there is no one in my beloved world of fiction. There are only real people, who I feel like I’m bothering with my stories of life.

I’m not saying I won’t write this book - I hope someday I will. But when you’re in a position where the words “mom” and “dad” make you cringe a little...it’s not really a place to write them time and time again. But if no one else will create a realistic character with problems I personally can relate to, well, someone’s got to.

[katticus]

Me and Earl and the Dying Girl - Jesse Andrews

It’s in the title, but there’s always a hope the title is lying, right?

Fair warning, I was listening to the Lumineers for the last few chapters, so my emotions are seriously heightened toward this book. I’ve got it playing now, actually (on my super rad record player), so be prepared for all the emotions.

I’d like to start off with the fact that this is the first book I’ve reviewed right after finishing it. I tend to give myself reflection time to consider the book in its entirety, but let me tell you this: I’ve taken this book to three different states and carried around endlessly until I was 100% done with it. I did not skim it, and I am not a fast reader by any use of the phrase, but I cannot tell you how quickly I devoured this book. Yeah, okay, I’ve done better, but for a stand alone novel started right when school did, I’d consider it a success.

The next thing you need to know is that this book won’t make you sad. It might make you upset, but compared to other dying books I’ve read (dang it, John Green), there were no emotions when the deed was done (it’s not a spoiler if the author puts it in the title). I won’t tell you how it all goes down, but just know that you won’t feel a connection to Rachel in the slightest.

However, Greg is a true gem. You’ll probably feel his pain, or if you’re a Catcher fan like I am, you might relate to him in a Holden sense. Regardless, he’s a fully developed character. He’s not the standard “average boy with average problem who probably masturbates too much” but rather a come-to-life creation who holds his own in a world of average. Not to mention he adds in wonderfully awkward second person commentary that makes everything fit together perfectly.

Earl, on the other hand, is very standard, but I say that in the most loving of ways. He is as you would expect from a boy in the ghettos - and as stereotypical as that might be or as racist as it might seem, that’s Earl. And he’s great at being Earl. He doesn’t have to be well drawn because the reader knows who he is right off the bat. You can’t not.

All that’s really left to be said (and I’m missing so much, but this book is driven much more by the characters rather than the plot), is this: I love this book. I’ve said that about a lot of books, but this is one of the few I’ll actually reread. The epilogue holds an interesting answer to the purpose of the second person commentary, and with that in mind I already want to pick it back up and devour it once more. Yes, there’s a dying girl. But the book’s not about that. It’s really not. Just trust me.

[katticus]

An Infinite Number of Parallel Universes - Randy Ribay

I’ve spent a week thinking about this book, having set it on my nightstand; taken it back to college; and rearranging my bookshelf to make room for it. And my conclusion is this:

This book did not turn out the way I’d hoped. “A number of parallel universes” is a chapter title and an overlooked quote, that’s all. But maybe it’s the reader’s fault. Maybe I’ve spent too much time considering Green’s work and not enough time looking at this independently. I expected these parallel universes to have a great meaning, to bear an amazing story that unfolds in miraculous form as though painted by Da Vinci himself. But that’s where I was wrong.

“An Infinite Number of Parallel Universes” is what it would be if no romantic walked the earth: a number of lives running side by side. It captures the relational ebb and flow of friendship, leaving the reader with a sense of disappointment, if you’re like me. However, this book is real. Nothing in this book is impossible (not to criticize any other work that may contain such), and everything can be connected to anyone’s life. Sure, there are a number of rises and falls in the plot and I’m not sure where the most prominent climax falls, but that’s life. When do you ever know what the plot actually is?

The premise of the story is that these kids meet up once a week to play Dungeons and Dragons, just as they have since sixth grade. My main issue with this was a lack of purpose within the novel. What did it matter that they met over D&D? But then I started thinking about my own best friends, and what does it matter if I met them at school or camp or church? Does that affect our current relationship? Largely, no. So to criticize Ribay for writing something so lifelike would be to criticize life itself.

I must say, however, that while reading this novel and wondering why I was doing so (the fact that I kept reading says a lot about the quality of the writing, in fact), the most important character for me was Sunshine. Sunshine is a hippy hitchhiker the kids pick up on their cross country road trip (yes, there is one of those in this [bildungsroman, for you curious lit nerds]), and she’s undoubtedly the strongest and deepest character in the novel. Her short stint in the book leaves the reader with an urge of wanderlust and the characters a renewed sense of vigor and life. She’s actually perfect.

What I’m trying to say is this: this wasn’t my favorite book. It will probably just end up on my bookshelf along with the others, which honestly includes all of John Green’s works. The characters didn’t stay with me, and honestly none of it was extremely memorable. But like I said, that’s life. It’s not memorable, it’s not spectacular, it’s not anything outside of the extraordinary. Life is a collection of events the we call our own, and that’s exactly what this book explains. It’s a bunch of parallel universes that all join together and create life.

I’ll finish this with a quote, and maybe the fact that I’m using what is my all time favorite quote to summarize a book means it’s a pretty awesome book. Regardless, from The Fault in Our Stars, be left with this thought.

“There will come a time when all of us are dead. It might be tomorrow. Might be a million years from now but it’s gonna happen. And when it does, enough generations will come and go, there’ll be no one left to remember Cleopatra. Or Mozart. Or Muhammad Ali, let alone any of us.”

[katticus]

The Mysterious and Unexpected

So I’m sitting in the nearly-dark theater, trying to stay awake for the never ending previews before the glorious Star Wars opening begins to pan the screen, and I realize something - most of the movies were surrounding aliens. I don’t remember the exact details because, I mean, Star Wars came on next. But I do remember wondering what this said about us.

Aliens are one of those things that just keeps coming up in media - whether it be Roswell or Area 57, Independence Day or The Day the Earth Stood Still (I’m looking at you, Keanu - we all know you’re actually an alien). We as a culture are obsessed with the notion of not being alone in this universe; is that a result of fear of the unknown or comfort in someone else being there? Are we coming up with an answer to the discord of the universe and the notion of surely we’re not alone, or is it something menial like the belief in unicorns or leprechauns?

But think about it - is not every book about aliens? Returning to the notion of “the chosen one” plot, said character is often greeted by a new, mysterious character. Edward and Bella (dang it Meyer), Q and Margo, Gus and Hazel (okay yes the only characters I remember as of late are John Green’s), Harry and Hagrid (just go with it), and the list goes on. The chosen one meets the mysterious one and adventure happens. The chosen one (Earth) meets the mysterious one (alien) and adventure happens. Or apocalypse. Not everything is Star Wars.

So what does this mean? Perhaps it means we yearn for an adventure, and we’re so skeptical of this coming in the form of a human that we resolve to believing in the existence of aliens so we have some hope of said adventure. And maybe that’s why YA lit has so many instances of road trips (I’m almost done with another book, review to come). We seek the Great Perhaps (yes, Green), and the best we can do is run or hope something runs to us. Even if it results in destruction (does it really ever for the chosen one?), we crave it. We don’t need answers so much as something to ask. We’re out of questions, and we have been for a while.

I’m not sure where I was going with this, but I think the important take away is this: aliens will always be big in literature. Dystopias come and go, vampires (mind you, still aliens) will resurface at some point but hopefully not for a while, but like the “teen fantasy and romance” section at Barnes and Noble, aliens will always have a soft spot in the hearts of everyone.

[katticus]

The Rest of Us Just Live Here - Patrick Ness

I’m just going to start by saying: what.

While reading this book, I’ve had a number of friends who have asked me what it is I’m reading, and my answer every single time was, “I’m not really sure.”

“You’ve got 20 pages left,” Dad says. Doesn’t mean I know what I’m reading.

I had such hopes for this novel, having sought for a while for a story where the main character wasn’t the chosen one. Look at all of the plots you’ve explored; they’re all based around the chosen one, right? Well, not this one. This one, Mikey is just a boy at a school with his friends, worried about graduation.

And then there’s the indie kids, who are the chosen ones. They deal with all this crap and they die and they’re special and have to complete quests to stop the end of the world. And apparently this has happened before - the book mentions several past occurrences, such as vampires, where the indie kids have had to solve the mystery.

My confusion arose when the stories started to cross paths. When it turns out Jared, Mikey’s best friend, is supposed to be an indie kid. When Nathan used to be. It feels like the plot shifts from “these are normal kids” to “this motley crew of high schoolers experience this weird realm of hell, but only by looking down from purgatory.”

I’m not saying I didn’t enjoy this book - I devoured it quite well, actually. But I’m left wondering if Ness accomplished what he’d set out to do, or if writing a story without a “chosen one” was what he actually set out to do. Maybe I just had the wrong expectations for this book. Or maybe it genuinely did not reach what I had hoped.

As far as the author goes, the book was vividly written and I had a visual sense of the scene - a rarity for me when reading.

...I have to break that train of thought with the fact that so many things were left unanswered: the deer flock, the zombie deer, the police attack, the blown up school. I don’t...there wasn’t a resolution. An indie kid told the group that it was all over, but what was over? I understand Mikey wasn’t the chosen one, but what even happened?

I think, despite my attempts to find a novel where the chosen one is not the main character, I don’t think this is possible. I don’t believe in the impossible (aside from humans flying), but we are all the chosen ones of our own lives. Mikey was the chosen one in his battle with OCD and his love for Henna. Mel was the chosen one in her strife with her eating disorder and her progression toward recovery. Jared was a god, for crying out loud (not really a spoiler). Nathan moved to an unfamiliar school two weeks before graduation. Henna was moving to Africa to be a missionary with her parents. They were all the chosen ones in their own story, even if they couldn’t see it.

Maybe that’s the point Ness was trying to make. “The rest of us just live here,” but we don’t. We live our own lives and accept what we have and we set out to do what he need to do. Harry Potter was the chosen one to kill Voldemort just as I’m the chosen one at my apartment to take out the trash on Fridays. A character is the author’s chosen one to tell the story. It’s as simple as that.

In conclusion? I’m not sure what I read. I know I liked it. But I have no way to describe that further. Yes, I would recommend this book, but I would recommend having no expectations. The odd nature of the story requires that mindset, or lack thereof.

--trigger warning: eating disorder; OCD--

[katticus]

Frustrations: Mental Illness and Grief

Okay guys, this is going to be a bit of a continuation of my All the Bright Places review. So if you’re not feeling spoilers, just ignore this little rant. For everyone else, trigger warning: suicide. For everyone else, please continue.

I really just wanted to get on here to point one thing out: that is not how you react to someone dying. That’s how you react to, like, your bunny dying. Of old age. But a loved one committing suicide? And all you can do is cry and then go exploring? And then everything is okay?? Guys. That’s not how it works.

Let me tell you a little story: my very best friend didn’t text me for a few days before her 21st birthday, and I desperately needed to know what to get her. The day before her birthday she finally texts back and says she just got out of the hospital for suicidal ideation. I’m in class right now, and I cannot for the life of me tell you what we learned. Why? Because I was freaking out that I almost lost my best friend. If you think for a minute that I would be all fine and dandy after a few weeks or months or however long Violet goes on for in the book-

Yes, you recover from grief. You move into that “acceptance” stage. But you don’t forget. Someone once told me, “that (death/relationship/thing) changed you. You’re not who you were before.” Violet, if you just ride off into the sunset like I feel the book ended with, then there is a fundamental flaw in this book. Realism is lost, the voice is lost, the character is left two-dimensional and idealistic, held together by being redrawn. The old Violet we’d fallen in love with is gone, and in her place we have this lifeless cut out of a girl - and no, not in the sense that she’s grieving and is currently a shell of her former self. I’m talking “Bella had more support than you do” cutout.

*eyes Meyer*

With the contemp real trend on the rise and plateau, everyone wants to be John Green. Everyone wants to be Rainbow Rowell. Just like how everyone wanted to be Stephanie Meyer when the teen fantasy romance fad took off (*eyes Meyer* [to be fair, you’ll notice that section is never missing in a Barnes & Noble]). But I think Jennifer Niven missed the mark with this one. The ending felt like the ending of the Twilight trilogy and the Hunger Games trilogy: rushed and ready to be done.

I’m not saying I could write a better ending - I’m not sure there is one. I can’t imagine writing a truly appropriate post-suicide scene. But I think John Green was close with The Fault in Our Stars - Hazel didn’t move on, but she learned. She continued to grieve, but she’s making progress. She is who she was when the book started, albeit changed because of Gus, but she maintains her character throughout. That, I think, is the difference.

That and the fact that no one recovers from suicide that way. Contemp real isn’t real if it’s not realistic.

Aside from that I loved the book and highly recommend it.

My friend’s doing better.

[katticus]

Young Adults IRL?

“Contemporary realistic,” as agent Michael Bourret calls it.

But let’s step back for a second.

With Hunger Games on the decline, now that the movies have finished and most everyone has read the books, we’ve also seen a decline in dystopian works. I’ve been trying off and on for four years to get my dystopia published, but agents are just saying no to the genre. Its time has passed, and we’re moving on to bigger things. Greener pastures, you could say.

That’s right. I just made a dystopian pun. Get on my level.

(I’m sorry it’s late.)

Look at this beautiful infographic. It tells the tale of the trends of dystopias, from government oppression to love affairs, as well as the shift from male-focused to female-focused. The last bit I found the most interesting, especially as it feels like a lot of YA lit is headed in the female direction. Of course, that could just be me seeing as that’s what I mostly read. Someone make some suggestions, I need to expand.

But we’re not here for dystopias! We’re here for this magic of “contemporary realism.”

What does that even mean?

Basically, it means John Green. It means John Green and Rainbow Rowell and whoever else is out there because let’s be real, I said John Green and you all went, “ahh I get it.” Contemporary realism means characters who are so quirky they come to life - Edward Cullen did not have these quirks and thus Twilight regrettably does not fall into this category.

But wait, there’s more! Contemp Real, as I’m going to call him from here on out, doesn’t have to be dying cancer girls or depressive teens or whatever else John Green feels like writing about. Agent Sara Crowe puts it this way: “It can be about anything—romance, mystery, thriller—as long as the voice is great,“ So, you know, if Heathcliff had been quirky and at all likable, Wuthering Heights may have met the requirements for Contemp Real. In fact, a rewriting of that might do really well- or was that also Twilight?

Isabella and Edgar. Bella and Edward. Just saying.

At least EL James’ was kind enough to rename Bella Anastasia. Meyer could’ve taken a page from her book.

LOOK AT ALL THE PUNS.

Ahem. Back to contemp real.

So in my world, or at least in my bookshelf, the current main trend is contemp real. Okay, I can handle that. But what is it that draws us? What is it that makes us pay 30$ to go see The Fault in Our Stars three times at the theater? Why do I own four different copies of the movie? Why do I feel compelled to buy every copy of Looking for Alaska I can find?

Going back to Crowe, “as long as the voice is great.” This next one sums it up, and I took it verbatim from the article from which I’m quoting because it’s just so perfect:

Pulling off that really authentic, quirky, individual voice is definitely hard to do,” says Jenny Bent of the Bent Agency. “When it’s done right, it reads as deeply sincere. It’s not something you can fake.”

This quote summarizes how I feel about contemp real: it’s beautiful if done right. If. Done. Right. If I except a Caulfield and you throw me a Bella, I swear.... But that aside, how many quirky individuals can there be? How long before we run out of them?

Think about this: take Q from Paper Towns and put him in The Fault in Our Stars as Gus. Tell me that doesn’t work. To be fair, Q is nerdier than Gus, Gus gives off this cool guy vibe that Q just doesn’t have, but they’re both these little nerds who are weird and need someone by their side to aid in their weirdness. And yes, okay, they’re both John Green, but take Violet from All the Bright Places and tell me she doesn’t make a good Hazel Grace.

I suppose I should get to my point. I intended to spend this space and your time explaining the trend of contemp real in YA lit today, but as it turns out and despite my love of the trend, it’s only a matter of time before this chapter comes to an end (I am on fire). Until someone proves me wrong, I’m going to take comfort in knowing that every contemp real book I pick up will have the same character. But I guess that’s the draw to fanfiction.

I’m looking at you, James.

Sources:

http://www.publishersweekly.com/pw/by-topic/childrens/childrens-industry-news/article/59297-new-trends-in-ya-the-agents-perspective.html

http://www.goodreads.com/blog/show/351-the-dystopian-timeline-to-the-hunger-games-infographic

[katticus]

All the Bright Places - Jennifer Niven

Few books have reminded me of my love for reading. I don’t have as much time to devour books anymore if they aren’t work or school related, but this one soared above everything else I’ve tried recently.

I haven’t liked a book this much since finishing the last of the main four John Green books.

Let me start with the imagery and diction of this book: the writing contained within this beautiful binding (take off the dust cover and there are these adorably-hipster stars on the white hardback) is my English LSD. Niven brings the characters and the scenery to life on a level I’ve never before experienced. Usually when I read, I picture places I’m familiar with, and the people never had faces. But when I am graced with Niven’s words, Finch and Violet are very much so alive. I couldn’t tell you what it is that separates this book in that regard from other books, from any other book, but I equate it to literary magic.

Sigh. Such a beautifully written book.

But now we must venture into the depths of the plot.

TRIGGER WARNING: SUICIDE.

That should really be included on the cover. Just saying. Without giving away the plot, this book is about suicide. It’s about love and understanding and acceptance and rejection and bullying and hatred and life, but it’s also about suicide.

I’ve stepped away from this review for a week or two, I’ve lost track of the days, and in all honesty, I’m not sure what else can be said about this novel without revealing intimate details from the story line. So much is built upon the first chapter, where Violet and Finch meet each other on the top of the school bell tower, both presumably ready to jump, that it would be impossible to delve much further into the story without handing out spoilers like they were on the list of Oprah’s Favorite Things.

I guess if I were to say anything about the plot, it would be this: the ending is disappointing. For such a wonderfully written book full of equal parts adventure and turmoil, the ending fell flat. But maybe that was because by the end, I’ve romanticized the novel so much, I’ve built up such real characters, that no ending would satisfy me unless the world just blew up. To be honest, I wouldn’t mind a lot of books ending that way. Twilight, for example.

Do not let that deter you from reading this gem, though. It is simply a reminder that this is a book, but this is also real life. The story ends how it would were it true: no fluff, no explosions, no mega-resolution. The characters are content enough and fade to black. Disappointing, but John Green wrote in Paper Towns (another novel I felt ended disappointingly), “What a treacherous thing to believe that a person is more than a person.“

This book was never more than a book, but it came to life as though it were.

[katticus]

A Grand Welcome!

Hello, adventure seekers!

Warm greetings from the fresh-from-the-press scents of the bookstore aisles; from the loose change deep within the cushions of overused couches; from soft guitar strumming and gentle whispers of song over the loudspeaker, decibels away from being drowned out by the flipping of pages.

If you’re reading this, you’ve happened upon potentially the next greatest thing to grace the internet with its existence- that, or just another blog that’s destined to turn into a sea of lost files and musings. We’ll see.

Here’s what you’re actually here for: what you’ve found is a growing grouping of young adult book reviews by yours truly, Red, as well as a pending plethora of data and analytical explorations on the matter. What I hope to accomplish is to give readers a place to go for 1) honest and coherent book reviews and 2) reading recommendations, up-and-coming authors, soon-to-be fads in the young adult literature community, etc.

It’s a young adult novel road map, and all readers have a touch of wanderlust, so let’s go!