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Wednesday, January 6, 2016

7 Heart Review: Rules for 50/50 Chances by Kate McGovern

Rules for 50/50 Chances
Kate McGovern

Page Count: 342
Release Date: November 24th, 2015
Publisher: Farrar, Straus and Giroux Books for Young Readers (MacMillan)
Source: Complimentary copy provided by publicist in exchange for an honest and unbiased review (thank you, Goldberg McDuffie Communications!)
Rating: ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

If you could find out how it all ends, would you?

Seventeen-year-old Rose Levenson has a decision to make: Does she want to know how she's going to die? Because when Rose turns eighteen, she can take the test that tells her if she carries the genetic mutation for Huntington's disease, the degenerative condition that is slowly killing her mother.

With a fifty-fifty shot at inheriting her family's genetic curse, Rose is skeptical about pursuing anything that presumes she'll live to be a healthy adult—including her dream career in ballet and the possibility of falling in love. But when she meets a boy from a similarly flawed genetic pool and gets an audition for a dance scholarship across the country, Rose begins to question her carefully laid rules.

Review

I'm not sure I'll ever really know if I want to know. It sort of depends on the answer, doesn't it? I mean, obviously, if I don't carry the gene, it would be nice to know that now. But if I do... I don't know. In the interim, every time I drop a pencil, or mess up a turn in rehearsal, or trip over my own feet—which is more or less all the time—I wonder if it's Huntington's. This is ridiculous, I know, because even if I am carrying the mutation, it's super rare for symptoms to show up before your thirties or even later. But still. That's the thing about the uncertainty. It puts the possibility of this disease in everything.

Rose Levenson lives by four rules:

1. Don't make plans you can't keep.

The Huntington's disease gene she has a 50% chance of having inherited from her progressively ailing mother is set in stone. Her mother will die from it, and Rose can see every day her condition getting worse—as for herself, she either has it, or she doesn't. Regardless, it seems like her fate is already written in the stars; what's the point of planning out a future, if by adulthood, she may not even be healthy enough to enjoy it?

2. Falling in love confuses everything (so don't do it).

Enter Caleb Franklin, a boy who understands what it's like to suffer under the weight of a genetic disorder, a boy from a completely different background, the first boy she's ever felt worthy enough of breaking her second rule.

While Rose and Caleb's budding relationship is nowhere near consuming or romantic—it just fell a little flat for me—I found Caleb to be a fascinating choice of love interest. McGovern intelligently explores race and class differences in a mature way, rather than solely throwing them in as character devices (aka "that one black friend") as I've seen other YA novels do. I totally appreciate how she doesn't gloss over Caleb's African-American background; she incorporates its relevance into his relationship with Rose, while carefully avoiding anything too political or current to make everything COMPLETELY about race. Because that's really not the point; the point is that race isn't something that can be ignored or glossed over, because it does make a different in real life, despite what white privilege will insist. White privilege isn't just about white people having it better than black people, etc., but the inability for non-minorities to recognize that this sort of stratification exists. McGovern handles this so gracefully and naturally, without being preachy; I've never seen it done in YA (that isn't primarily about race) before.

What's so conflicting about my opinions overall is that I found Rules for 50/50 Chances to be stunningly realistic and layered, but just couldn't stand Rose, our protagonist. For me to grow attached to a story relies heavily on a likable—if not relatable—narrator, and unfortunately Rose is my biggest quip about this entire book. I understand that her characterization was fully intentional on McGovern's part, especially since Rose's main flaws are pointed out by many of the secondary characters and eventually self-realized, but sludging through her narrow-minded first-person narrative was a little too irritating for me.

It isn't that she's particularly bratty or stupid or mean, but she's one of those types who wallows in her own pity—in this case, due to her genetic "curse" as she calls it, completely pulling the "you just don't know how I feel!" card at every instance, without leaving much room to understand that other people, in fact, also have issues, even if not the exact same as her own. There's one scene where Caleb, the love interest, calls Rose "exhausting," and that's exactly how I feel about her: tiring, drawn-out, worthy of eye rolls. It takes her a long, long time to figure this out, but when she finally does, I felt like the book finally redeemed itself.

3. Knowledge is power.

The novelty of the book's plot is something to praise, for sure. I wasn't even certain what Huntington's disease was before I read this book, so it was both an educational, and emotionally charged account on how it could affect a teenager's life, even before symptoms show.

The difficulty of living with a 50/50 chance for inheriting a degenerative disease is expertly illustrated from Rose's point of view. It isn't so much the misfortune of the disease itself, but rather a matter of knowing and not-knowing: a lifetime of uncertainty. This is mainly the reason why Rose is convinced that she needs to take the test to find out whether she carries the gene or not as soon as she turns eighteen. It's not HD she's concerned over, because she knows well too much about it already, watching it eat away at her mother every day. Rather, being kept in the dark is what she can't stand.

Rules for 50/50 Chances won't sugar-coat anything. From the frankness of dialogue between family members and friends, and the way Huntington's manifests uglily in her own mother, it gives you an honest, oftentimes abrasive account of Rose's life, which is already hard considering she's a senior in high school. To me, the plot about her ballet career and college decisions fell to the backdrop because the primary issues with Caleb and with her taking the genetic test took center stage. While not always pretty, teenage relationships and degenerative diseases are portrayed with extraordinary authenticity here.

4. Rules are meant to be broken.

As Rose slowly tests herself through the hardships of competing for a ballet scholarship, the acknowledgment of her genetic results, and through the turmoil of working out her first love—and heartbreak—she learns that everyone has their own problems, not exclusively herself. Soon, she finds herself breaking all her previous, pristinely set rules, and in this way, she discovers that everyone's human and that pain is not measurable on a spectrum; no one has it more or less "worse" than anyone else just because of superficial reasons.

It definitely took Rose a long time to come to this conclusion, but when she finally did, I felt triumphant. I honestly didn't enjoy this book to this extent until the last few chapters because it seemed to drag on and on with Rose complaining about this and that, but the ending was definitely worth it.

Amazingly, while the main characters are hard to relate to, the book itself isn't. Rose isn't the most sympathetic or level-headed character, but McGovern approaches this complex dilemma richly and with emotional resonance.

I learned a lot from this book, not only about race and difficult relationships and difficult genes, but also general astute observations from Rose's everyday life, from the lessons she learns during auditioning for her ballet scholarship, to her mom's passion for trains, which she also shares. I feel like this is the kind of book I would have loved to have read in middle school—and I don't say that to lower the audience age or cheapen its poignance; I only mean that it's an incredibly eye-opening and grounded account that has the power to vastly change the way most people think.

Pros

Plot, characters, and relationships are very lifelike and well-written // McGovern's prose flows naturally and swiftly; she is obviously a talented storyteller // I learned a lot about Huntington's disease and trains (look up the California Zephyr if you don't already know what it is) // Overall narrative contains sophistication and self-awareness, despite Rose's lack thereof // Rose's family dynamic is beautiful and diverse; we experience the touching highs and all the dysfunctional lows // Ending ties everything together beautifully, and actually is the saving grace considering how prolonged Rose's petty narrative is, prior

Cons

Rose is not the easiest character to like and relate to (condescending towards her friends, short-sighted, self-pitying) // There isn't anything romantic or clever about Rose and Caleb's relationship; it kind of just happens

Love

"What do I look like without your glasses on?" I ask after a moment.

He squints at me. "You look like an elderly black man. Like my grandfather."

Verdict

Kate McGovern tackles tough topics like genetic diseases, race and class issues, the ugliness of growing up, and the uncertainty—and blessing—of not knowing, with poise, wisdom, and cultural sensitivity in her debut novel. This is the kind of YA book I would like to turn back time and give to my adolescent self: fairly clean, but far from naïve; never happy-go-lucky, but still optimistic. It taught me a lot, and made me reflect a lot, and I think teenagers of all ages and reading levels will feel the same way. Rules of 50/50 Chances challenges perceptions and preconceptions, depicts a genetic disease that is as rarely informed on as it is hideous, and demonstrates that love, whether romantic or familial, is never as tidy or as faultless as it seems—even in a young adult novel. While I did find Rose's character to be a headache as a whole, the uncommon yet well-executed plot will stick with me forever. Mindful, mature, and genuine to its core, 50/50 Chances is a book you should 100% take a chance on

Wednesday, December 30, 2015

10 Heart Review: The Lover's Dictionary by David Levithan

The Lover's Dictionary
David Levithan

Page Count: 211
Release Date: January 4th, 2011
Publisher: Farrar, Straux, & Giroux (MacMillan)
Source: Purchased
Rating: ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

A love story told in dictionary entries.

basis, n.

There has to be a moment at the beginning when you wonder whether you’re in love with the person or in love with the feeling of love itself.

If the moment doesn’t pass, that’s it—you’re done. And if the moment does pass, it never goes that far. It stands in the distance, ready for whenever you want it back. Sometimes it’s even there when you thought you were searching for something else, like an escape route, or your lover’s face.

How does one talk about love? Do we even have the right words to describe something that can be both utterly mundane and completely transcendent, pulling us out of our everyday lives and making us feel a part of something greater than ourselves? Taking a unique approach to this problem, the nameless narrator of David Levithan’s The Lover’s Dictionary has constructed the story of his relationship as a dictionary. Through these short entries, he provides an intimate window into the great events and quotidian trifles of being within a couple, giving us an indelible and deeply moving portrait of love in our time.

Review

ineffable, adj.
These words will ultimately end up being the barest of reflections, devoid of the sensations words cannot convey. Trying to write about love is ultimately like trying to have a dictionary to represent life. No matter how many words there are, there will never be enough.

It's been a long time since I've encountered a book that's moved me as much as The Lover's Dictionary has. I knew from page 1 that I'd end up treasuring it, mainly because I've anticipated it for so long and finally just sat down and picked it up—which I'm not sure why I didn't do sooner, since it's such a short read. Being a frequent retweeter from the book's Twitter page, I had high expectations with this one, and honestly, every single one of them were met.

Writing this review is proving to be difficult because The Lover's Dictionary's format and plot layout are both quite unusual. The obvious novelty of this story is that it's not narrated traditionally with chapters, but rather through individual dictionary entries, in second person by an unnamed protagonist to his lover. The whammy is that these little vignettes are arranged alphabetically, not chronologically—as dictionaries tend to be organized—so the lovers' story is non-linear, and is rather told in sporadic moments with which anyone who's been in love will be able to relate: frustration, butterflies, doubt, insecurity, optimism about the future, exasperation, elation. Each entry is its own story, spare on words but regardless extremely high-impact.

This non-chronological sequence of events is far from confusing or difficult to read, however; somehow, Levithan still makes it work because the story itself does not require a definitive beginning or end. All we know is that there is a couple, there is a conflict, and there is no clean resolution—because in real life, there hardly ever is. That's what I think makes it so potent; its implications regarding the ineffability of love are so relatable, so real.

The plot itself isn't necessarily a sweeping romance, nor a particularly profound love story—that's not why I love this book. In fact, the dictionary entries, while beautifully crafted, are vague and often unsettling, but each of them packs a strong punch. I was sucked in immediately because the main problem is introduced so early on, but it's only unraveled as you read further down the alphabet. The inevitable doom of the relationship's tragedy is always hanging in the air, impending, and the distressing feeling that it probably won't have a tidy tucked-away ending will constantly stick with you. You'll either be enchanted by Levithan's interpretation of each word, or find yourself relating to each on a near-spiritual level; there isn't a single page that I didn't like in this novel.

Pros

Touching, breathtaking // Relatable in the subtlest aspects that everyone notices in relationships, but don't necessarily always put to words // Portrays love beautifully, humanly // Unusual concept of book structure, but I found it clever and very absorbing // Conveys a realistic view of a romance, as deep and exhausting as it may be—they don't always "end" like they do in books and movies // A very quick read, since each "chapter" is composed of one dictionary entry (1-2 pages each)

Cons

Not a problem with the book itself, but with my inability to express with words how great it is: my review and the back cover synopsis do not do it justice!

Love

juxtaposition, n.
It scares me how hard it is to remember life before you. I can't even make the comparisons anymore, because my memories of that time have all the depth of a photograph. It seems foolish to play games of better and worse. It's simply a matter of is and is no longer.

Verdict

Remarkable in ways that my own words fail to sufficiently articulate, The Lover's Dictionary is a comforting, candid, and devastating characterization of love, and the parallel irony to ever be able to adequately write about it. If I don't have you convinced, check out the corresponding Twitter page for a more succinct preview of what the book is like. David Levithan has an extensive fan base for valid reason; his grasp on the written word is adept, his understanding of the human tendency to fall in love with flaws is painfully accurate, and when his dictionary entries are pieced together, the end result is simultaneously witty and evocative. This is the kind of book I wish I could write: a subtle masterpiece and a hefty accomplishment

Wednesday, December 23, 2015

3 Heart Review: All We Have Is Now by Lisa Schroeder

All We Have Is Now
Lisa Schroeder

Page Count: 272
Release Date: July 28th 2015
Publisher: Scholastic Inc.
Source: Complimentary copy provided by author via tour publicist in exchange for an honest and unbiased review (thank you, Lisa Schroeder and CBB Book Promotions!)
Rating: ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

What do you do with your last day on earth?

There are twenty-seven hours and fifteen minutes left until a meteor strikes North America, and, for Emerson and everyone else who didn't leave, the world will end. But Emerson's world already ended when she ran away from home last year. Since then she has lived on the streets, relying on her wits and her friend Vince to help her find places to sleep and food to eat.

The city's quieter now that most people are gone, and no one seems to know what to do as the end approaches. But then Emerson and Vince meet Carl, who tells them that he has been granting people's wishes. He gave his car away so a woman could take her son to see the ocean for the first time, and he gives Emerson and Vince all the money he has in his wallet.

Suddenly this last day seems full of possibility. Emerson and Vince can grant a lot of wishes in twenty-seven hours—maybe even their own.

Review

"Pay it forward, if you can. Look for those who have wishes or regrets."
Panic rises up, and Emerson realizes she doesn't want to be here. She starts to run, heading back the way they came.
She remembers Vince's words. "I just want it to be easy."
There is nothing easy about this, she realizes. Not a single thing.

The biggest disappointment about this book was that it actually sounded inspirational and intriguing in its sci-fi backdrop. An impending apocalypse combined with a mission from a stranger to spend the last day on Earth performing random acts of kindness—excellent. Add to that a developing "romance" between two teenage outcasts who've been surviving on the streets and only have each other—I really thought this story could have gone somewhere.

Unfortunately, it was subpar in pretty much every literary criteria. The cheesy and uneventful character interactions, story line, and so-called "inspirational" message actually had me wondering how exactly this could sit well with any reader. Unless you are a 10-year-old who has never experienced real-life conflict involving family, friends, and romantic love, I'm confident you'd read this and feel the same way. I cringed at a lot of the dialogue, and got really, really exasperated by the time I finished the last page.

Schroeder's writing itself is not incredibly flawed, but that's a pretty basic statement because it isn't profound or particularly thoughtful either. Her prose lacks an engaging element that I'd associate with a pre-apocalyptic and/or teen-oriented novel, and I feel the randomly interspersed pages of verse are unseasoned, as well. Most writers can get away with underdeveloped prose, but in poetry, the quality of writing shows. And I was shown how poor it was all throughout the book.

The worst part is the stilted and superbly unrealistic/cringe-worthy dialogue scenes. And before you try to argue that it's sci-fi, it isn't supposed to be realistic—that's not what I mean. Obviously "end of the world" stories aren't meant to be realistic contemporary fiction, but they should still immerse a reader into the fictional setting. All We Have Is Now failed miserable at doing this overall.

Emerson and Vince are supposedly each other's "one and only" (although not initially in a romantic way), but their dialogue is stiff and gives me secondhand embarrassment:

"Where'd you learn to dance anyway?" Emerson teases. "A cute girl teach you?"
His eyes turn cold and he stares straight ahead. "No. Nothing like that. If you have to know, it was my mom."

Not only are Vince and Emerson poorly portrayed, but they're also VERY difficult to like and relate to, mostly because I found a lot of their characteristics to be inconsistent. For instance, Vince is the smooth-talking "cool" black guy whom Emerson doesn't realize she's in love with, but he has strange bouts of emotional outbursts, and can be really pushy and obnoxious. Emerson is the troubled runaway who is afraid to reconcile with her estranged family, but she's prude, whiny, equally as unnecessarily emotional, and just plain stupid at times. I'm not saying that to be offensive; she seriously reads like a one-dimensional cartoon character:

"Don't do that," Emerson says through gritted teeth. "Don't insult my intelligence, Mr. Say-One-Thing-and-Do-Another."
"Wait. Are you, like, mad right now?" Kat asks [and] holds out her hands as if to say, What's the big deal? (....lol) "But why?"
Vince crosses his arms. "I'd actually like to know the answer to that question, too."
"You guys left me out here while you did who-knows-what in that bed that isn't even yours," Emerson yells. "I mean, gross! And rude." (..LOL!)
Vince steps forward, tries to touch her, but she steps back. "Girl, come on. You know it wasn't like that."

This one just cracks me up. Every time a character speaks, you think that's the punchline but it just keeps getting better and better.

I could have gotten over the unpleasant characters (maybe) but what bothered me even more was the story itself. Yes, it starts off as a provocative Mitch Albom-esque plot, but turns into something I became weary of immediately. The ending takes a 180° turn and (if you can't guess it already), here's a quick spoiler to get off my chest: SPOILER START (highlight the white text to view): The conclusion isn't dark and wish-welcoming like the synopsis suggests. In fact, the apocalypse turns out to be a government hoax to teach US citizens a lesson to appreciate what they have (WTF!) and everything returns to normal the next day. No end of the world, no lives lost, no deep, dark, revealing, or even remotely inspirational matter. Just a bunch of psychological effing-up. Literally that's what we encounter about 80% of the way in, and then there's a bunch of happy endings (yaaaayy) and a ridiculous last chapter. :SPOILER END. A better writer COULD have even made this ending jaw-dropping or uplifting in some sort of way, but Schroeder accomplished neither. The construction of the conclusion itself was poor, with very unlikely conflict resolutions that occur in a couple pages (that happens in real life?!) and a rushed, cheesy, and very unbelievable ending.

I didn't see it coming because I refused to even believe that the author would take a turn like that... it was completely out of the realm of possibility... and then it happened -_-

Pros

Appropriate for younger YA or middle-grade audiences (very clean "romance," and even the darker themes are portrayed lightly with a definite resolution) // Inspiring message about appreciating what you have // Extremely easy to read and flows well

Cons

Pretty much everything else: Stylized and very basic, unimpressive writing // Numerous unsuccessful attempts to be profound and engaging // Character interactions, action scenes, and overall plot (especially the ending) are difficult to believe // The verse portions don't have ANY effect on me; I could have gotten the same thing out of this book without them // The budding "romance" (romance in quotations throughout this entire review because I don't really even consider it one) between Vince and Emerson just doesn't make sense // Emerson is unlikable, unrelatable (typically characters are one or the other), shallowly written, talks in a ridiculous, childish way, has random inappropriate mood swings etc. etc. etc. // Vince is just as bad: tremendously cheesy, unbelievable, has similar weird mood swings (I know they're teenagers and all but c'mon...) // The worst ending/conclusion plot twist ever

Love

The best kind of days are the ones that make you feel like you are living inside a kaleidoscope, twirling and swirling with dazzling joy.

Verdict

Unfortunately All We Have Is Now has very few redeeming qualities; it was unimpressive and quite cringe-worthy in almost every way. The characters are neither endearing nor enduring, the plot-line is very quick to resolve and painfully anticlimactic, and the ending just sealed the deal, leaving me dumbfounded (and NOT in a good way!). I feel like my standards have gotten much higher since when I first started reviewing, because I probably would have given this a decent 2.5-star rating previously; now, however, I'm just getting tired of tolerating stilted action and unintentional character flaws. While the suggested readership audience is ages 12-18, I would recommend it more for ages 10-14—if you even decide to pick this book up—because of its unrealistically optimistic plot and empty characters (maybe middle schoolers won't notice). My opinion may not sit well with Lisa Schroeder readers, as I know she has a large YA fan base, but I simply didn't like this book, even though it was a quick-paced and uncomplicated read

Friday, December 11, 2015

6 Heart Review: Exquisite Corpse by Pénélope Bagieu

Exquisite Corpse
Pénélope Bagieu, translated by Alexis Siegel

Page Count: 124
Release Date: May 5th 2015 (Hardcover)
Publisher: First Second Books (MacMillan)
Source: Complimentary copy provided by publisher in exchange for an honest and unbiased review (thank you, First Second!)
Rating: ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

Zoe isn't exactly the intellectual type, which is why she doesn't recognize world-famous author Thomas Rocher when she stumbles into his apartment... and into his life.

It's also why she doesn't know that Rocher is supposed to be dead. Turns out, Rocher faked his death years ago to escape his critics, and has been making a killing releasing his new work as "lost manuscripts," in cahoots with his editor/ex-wife Agathe. Neither of them would have invited a crass party girl like Zoe into their literary conspiracy of two, but now that she's there anyway...

Zoe doesn't know Balzac from Batman, but she's going to have to wise up fast... because she's sitting on the literary scandal of the century!

Review

Dying to be an author...

Graphic novels are always a pleasure to read, considering how rare a format they are in adult literature. Bagieu's debut is short and sweet, its cartoony, colorful illustrations being the biggest standout—everything is fashionable, yet minimalistic... think Lancôme ads (but more corrupt).

Zoe is a self-proclaimed non-intellectual, working various part-time jobs to make ends meet and totally reveling in, and simultaneously jaded with the bachelorette life. When she unintentionally stumbles into the apartment of Thomas Rocher, her unschooled lifestyle provides her no way of knowing he's the most critically acclaimed author of the 21st century. And that he "died" years ago, but is more successful dead than alive with all his "posthumous" work's publication. What a marvelous, quirky, almost fantastical plot we have to work with; I applaud Bagieu on the originality and that touch of just-crazy-enough-to-be-cute.

Disappointingly, the execution isn't as sharp. The book was very easy to get through due to its short length and simplistic structure, but I didn't find any of the writing compelling or absorbing. I'm positive (or positively hoping) that there was some tone and humor lost in translation with this book. The style was indeed unexquisite, rather blunt than beautiful—I just wasn't impressed. It was also full of run-on sentences that just tilted everything slightly off, but that's pretty typical of most French translated literature.

Zoe's entanglement in the deceit that Rocher and his ex-wife are committing is comical in a literary sense, but it's nothing that stood out as witty or clever. There's a huge plot twist at the end that I won't give away, but again, this wasn't anything that shocked me or drew me in. The book is only novella-length at 124 pages, but it's much, much less if you don't count the illustrations; I suppose undeveloped characters and a flat plot-line just come with the territory.

I feel I'd recommend this book solely on the basis of its wonderful and unique drawings, which Bagieu also did herself. The full-color pictures may convince you to pick this one up, but be prepared for a pretty underwhelming short story that isn't as exciting as the synopsis makes it out to be.

Pros

A very quick read; both short in length and in text since the graphics take up a lot of the pages // Easy to navigate; pleasant, simple, yet completely eye-catching illustrations // Quirky fairy-tale ending

Cons

A pretty passing read... not particularly memorable or noteworthy about it // The plot is too straightforward, without much emotional or suspenseful resonance to it

Verdict

Simple in narrative and easy to read, Exquisite Corpse is a book I enjoyed due to its cartoony and eccentric elements. This is definitely an adult's version of a picture book, with more mature themes of sex and deviousness running through it—at least PG-13 status, despite its frivolous, glitzily colorful drawings. Pénélope Bagieu's debut is among the easier and quicker graphic novels to read, although the short length and limited text space do result in underdeveloped story quality. As far as bande dessinées are concerned, Exquisite Corpse retains that slightly vintage Euro vibe that's classic to the genre, but still makes an offbeat splash in the scene, as it's totally minimalistic, sexy, and debauch—just as the Parisians do best

Wednesday, December 2, 2015

5 Heart Review: Day 21 by Kass Morgan

Day 21 (The Hundred #2)
Kass Morgan

Page Count: 311
Release Date: September 16th, 2014 (hardcover)
Publisher: Little, Brown Books for Young Readers (Hachette Book Group)
Source: Complimentary copy provided by publicist in exchange for an honest and unbiased review (thank you, FSB Media!)
Rating: ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

They thought they were alone.

They were wrong.

It's been 21 days since the hundred landed on Earth. They're the only humans to set foot on the planet in centuries... or so they thought.

Facing an unknown enemy, Wells attempts to keep the group safe after a tragic attack. Clarke strikes out in search of other colonists, while Bellamy is determined to rescue his sister, no matter the cost. And back on the ship, Glass faces an unthinkable choice between the love of her life and life itself.

In this pulse-pounding sequel to the New York Times bestseller The 100, secrets are revealed, beliefs are challenged, and relationships are tested. The hundred will struggle to survive the only way they can—together.

Review

Bellamy stared wide-eyed, as Clarke told him what she remembered about Mount Weather, how it was supposed to be a shelter for the U.S. government in times of crisis. "But my parents said that no one got there in time."
"Well, maybe they did," Bellamy said. "Could they have survived the Cataclysm here? By going underground?"
Clarke nodded. "And I have a feeling they never left. I think this is where the Earthborns live."

Day 21 picks up right where the distressing cliffhanger in The 100 left off, and the plot structure and narrative flow of the two books are almost identical. As with the first book, this sequel is told from the alternating third-person perspectives of Clarke, Wells, Bellamy, and Glass, and is a combination of present-day action and revealing snippets of backstory.

The biggest thing for me, personally, that has changed since I read the first book, is that I've since watched the CW television series. I just finished season 2 actually; it had me reeling for more, which is what inspired me to give the book series another try. Unfortunately, after having experienced the mastermind of the TV show, the books pale miserably in comparison. Not terrible by any means, as the journey of teenage delinquents determining the survivability of post-apocalyptic Earth is still a thrilling one, but just very, very weakly executed, when compared to the TV show.

In short, the TV show will have your jaw dropping and your heart racing at every scene; reading the books after watching the show will ruin everything for you. So I don't recommend the series if you've already seen the show.

For the most part, my quips with Day 21 are the exact same as they were in the book The 100, which I reviewed back in August: the characters are poorly developed and the writing style is highly unseasoned—it reads like a teenage fan-fiction novel that's meant to be super dramatic, but really isn't. In a purely literary sense, this series is a major disappointment. The concept of exploring Earth for the first time in over a century is amazing, but its presentation is just really lacking in Morgan's writing.

Day 21 presents the novel situation of dealing with Earthborns, or the "natives" of Earth that never left the ground during the Cataclysm (aka the nuclear disaster that sent Clarke's, Wells's, Bellamy's, and Glass's ancestors up to space as refuge in the first place). In the eyes of the Earthborns, Clarke and the other hundred aren't just foreigners from the sky... they're invaders. The mutual distrust between the two populations lead to the book's main conflicts, which are written to be shocking and suspense-ridden, but are actually just really drawn out and don't lead anywhere (unlike in the television series, where the action and suspense are immediate). While Day 21 does expose readers to darker themes, I feel like these twists and turns had the potential to be very powerful, but Morgan's mediocre writing dulls the majority of the impact of any serious or "life-changing" implications.

Add this to the fact that the characters are all equally generic and unlikable, and all the romantic relationships are incredibly shallow, and we've got ourselves a dud with Day 21. Insignificant and gratuitous romance plot lines are among my biggest book pet peeves, and they were at their mildest and most improbable in this second installment of the The 100 series, which only intensified my dissatisfaction with it further.

Pros

A consistent continuation of the first book; in style, structure, and content, the two are very similar // Plot picks up right where it left off in The 100 // New thrilling plot twists and revelations // Darker themes than the first book and more opportunity for adventure given

Cons

Most of the "shocking" revelations and plot twists are predictable, and not that potent // None of the romantic relationships seem realistic or at all complex; there are four ongoing in this book, if you count the Wells-Clarke-Bellamy "love triangle" and they're all lackluster // Most of the weaknesses in this book are identical to those in the first book, including annoying flashback scenes, constant, confusing narrative shifts, and very unimpressive writing style (read my review for that here) // Simply not as good as the TV series. Skip the books, just tune in to the CW!

Love

Bellamy shrugged. "I don't really know how to live any other way. I've always been taking care of her. It's like... we aren't born for ourselves alone. You have to take care of other people."

Verdict

While I acknowledged all the literary and stylistic shortcomings of the first book in The 100 series, I still ate it up because I was so impressed by the dystopian world-building and the dynamic plot line involving teenage delinquents exploring uncharted territory. That was before I started watching the TV show, though, and now that I have, coming back to the book series has been a cringe-filled bore. Kass Morgan really had her head in the right place when she created this entertaining YA sci-fi series, but unfortunately for her, the TV show just did a better job of bringing it to life. Day 21, the second book in series, has proven that the storyline just needed a fresh interpretation (and perhaps, a cinematic touch!) to really achieve something. My opinions are obviously completely biased due to having watched the TV show, but that doesn't stop me from recommending it wholeheartedly; on the other hand, the book series is agonizingly bland in comparison.

Wednesday, August 19, 2015

4 Heart Review: How to Bake a Man by Jessica Barksdale Inclán

How to Bake a Man
Jessica Barksdale Inclán

Page Count: 280
Release Date: October 21st 2014 (paperback edition)
Publisher: Ghostwoods Books
Source: Complimentary advanced reading copy provided by tour publicist via publisher in exchange for an honest and unbiased review (thank you, TLC Book Tours and Ghostwoods Books!)
Rating: ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

When 27-year-old Becca Muchmore drops out of grad school, all she has left to fall back on is her baking. Ignoring her mother’s usual barrage of disapproval and disappointment, she decides to start a small business hand-delivering her wares. A friend introduces her to an office of hungry lawyers, who agree to give her a try. Her lizard-booted neighbor Sal is happy to help out when he can, and almost before she knows it, Becca’s Best is up and running.

Before she can settle into a routine, things get complicated. The office ogress could easily be Becca’s sister and has absolutely no patience with cookies or other frivolities. Even worse, her boyfriend is the man of Becca’s dreams—kind, funny, successful, and brain-meltingly gorgeous. As the dark undercurrents threaten to pull her down, Becca swiftly finds herself neck-deep in office politics, clandestine romance, and flour. Saving her business (and finding true love) is going to take everything she’s got, and more.

Packed with charm, sparkling humor, and a genuinely unforgettable cast, this delicious tale of a woman struggling to find her path just might be Jessica Barksdale Inclán’s finest novel to date.

Buy the book from: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | The Book Depository | Books-A-Million | Publisher

Review

Coming-of-age stories are typical for YA audiences or teenage characters, but when they involve late-twenty-somethings in the backdrop of the bustling Bay Area, they unfold into an entirely different genre. Add a self-doubting underdog—our protagonist, Becca Muchmore—who has the power to cheer anyone up with her incredible baked goods, as well some ridiculously corny mishaps she encounters on her path to finding true love, and you've got How to Bake a Man, Jessica Barksdale Inclán's latest novel.

I'm new to this author, but was drawn to How to Bake a Man because it reads very contemporary—very feathery and cheerful and cutesy. The lightness of mood, however, comes at the expense of substance and depth, which this book thinks it has—slightly worse of an offense than a book that intentionally has no substance at all.

There are so many issues with the plot in terms of believability and (personal) tolerability, even for a romantic comedy-sque novel:

1. Becca Muchmore is a grad school dropout experiencing a crippling crisis after a terrible breakup.
Have we ever encountered anything more cliché?

2. To make ends meet, she starts a baked goods company, since baking has always been her lifelong passion. Immediately and effortlessly, she is picked up by the town's most prestigious law firm and asked to cater for their entire office; her business is a success right away.
Naturally.

3. At work, Becca meets Jennifer, the "ogress" of an antagonist of the story, who is her skinnier, prettier, smarter, wealthier, and more successful doppelgänger. She develops an obsession with Jennifer.
It is very uncomfortable.

4. Becca begins to suspect that Jennifer's equally perfect boyfriend is her soul mate. Her, as in Becca's, absolutely not Jennifer's.
Unrealistic dialogue and some very heavy petting occur.

5. Becca realizes she is terribly, terribly wrong about the soul mate thing... but all's okay because her actual soul mate turns out to be (at the last minute) her best friend. It was him all along! Surprise central!
As if the plot wasn't enough of a mess already.

Being a romance fanatic myself, I don't say this often... but the main love story should have been kept out of this book entirely. It would have made for a much cleaner, sharper novel about the coming-of-age of an unlikely heroine who finds herself, along with her true passions, by first being slammed with the harsh reality that is life. Instead, How to Bake a Man went the typical, overused route where Becca Muchmore faces a few career-related and personal complications (which, judging by the degree of their silliness and lack of depth, would only happen in some chick flick... or in this book) but instead ends up finding the love of her life in an unexpected—but entirely obvious—place.

Becca's obsession with Jennifer, her lookalike, is also really, really weird, and I don't understand how it even fits in with the main plot. There's so much concentration on this strange coincidence of her meeting a woman that could be her twin, that I thought the book was heading in the direction of The Parent Trap; alas, the situation didn't really give me such satisfaction, as it didn't have much purpose.

What's so ridiculously unappealing to me is how lacking in dimension and originality all the secondary characters are. They are written with such forced humor that they become laughable tropes. The only non-singular character is Becca, whom I'm conflicted about because I at once hate her and like (not love) her. On one hand she's delusional and really slow-witted—neither lovable nor admirable—but on the other, she's genuine and klutzy in an endearing way. Inclán could have strengthened the book immensely just by revising Becca's character (not to mention that of the rest).

The saving grace of the book is how much attention is given to all the desserts Becca bakes. Scattered among the chapters, are anecdotes on how each of her sugary, buttery treats is meaningful to her, along with full recipes. The absurd story made me really angry, but the recipes left me starving.

I now have felt everything, having finally experienced what it means to be hangry.

Pros

Light-hearted tone, like a cheesy rom-com movie // Well paced // Inclán has a warm, attentive writing style that makes Becca, the narrator, seem more personable // Actual recipes from the story included!

Cons

My opinions are Becca are polarized; I find her at times endearing and at others, completely intolerable // Predictable friends-to-lovers romance subplot // Would have been better without the "happily ever after" romance, just as an adult coming-of-age novel // All secondary characters seem like plot devices rather than real people // Voice is easy to read, but tries WAY too hard to be funny... ends up being not even remotely funny

Verdict

If you're in the mood for a cheesy contemporary romance whose premise will give any far-fetched soap opera a run for its money, you'd best give How to Bake a Man a try. Following the quarter-life crisis of a woman with little confidence but lots of baking vision, this friends-to-lovers story has an amusing story line, but is abundant in problems with characterization, voice, and authenticity. I like that Jessica Barksdale Inclán pursued a baking enthusiast's take on chick lit, but found it to be too all over the place to take seriously. I could have appreciated it more if it was satirical, extraordinarily well-written, or "packed with charm, sparkling humor, and a genuinely unforgettable cast" as advertised, but sadly, it was none of the above

4 hearts: So-so; reading this book may cause wrinkles (from frowning so much) (x)

Wednesday, August 12, 2015

7 Heart Review: The 100 by Kass Morgan

The 100 (The Hundred #1)
Kass Morgan

Page Count: 323
Release Date: March 18th 2014 (CW tie-in release)
Publisher: Little, Brown Books for Young Readers (Hachette Book Group)
Source: Complimentary copy provided by publicist in exchange for an honest and unbiased review (thank you, FSB Media!)
Rating: ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

No one has set foot on Earth in centuries—until now.

Ever since a devastating nuclear war, humanity has lived on spaceships far above Earth's radioactive surface. Now, one hundred juvenile delinquents—considered expendable by society—are being sent on a dangerous mission: to recolonize the planet. It could be their second chance at life... or it could be a suicide mission.

Clarke was arrested for treason, though she's haunted by the memory of what she really did. Wells, the chancellor's son, came to Earth for the girl he loves—but will she ever forgive him? Reckless Bellamy fought his way onto the transport pod to protect his sister, the other half of the only pair of siblings in the universe. And Glass managed to escape back onto the ship, only to find that life there is just as dangerous as she feared it would be on Earth.

Confronted with a savage land and haunted by secrets from their pasts, the hundred must fight to survive. They were never meant to be heroes, but they may be mankind's last hope.

Review

"At least we know you'll be able to hold your own with the other delinquents when you get there."
"Get where?" Clarke grunted, trying to free herself from the guard's grip.
"We're clearing out the detention center today. A hundred lucky criminals are getting the chance to make history." The corners of his mouth twitched into a smirk. "You're going to Earth."

Having interviewed Kass Morgan at my blog last year and given the success of the CW series based on the books, I was plenty eager to give The 100 a try. While I haven't read a staggering amount of YA dystopian, the books in the genre that I have tried (e.g. classics like The Giver and the Uglies series), I absolutely loved; given my background, my initial impressions of the premise were highly anticipatory.

The book is told from four different teenagers' perspectives—Clarke, Wells, Bellamy, and Glass. All narratives aside from Glass's are told in a concurrent timeline, through the eyes of the delinquents who have been forced to settle on Earth for the first time in centuries. While Glass's story, which takes place back on the mothership, was initially the least interesting, it eventually pans out to serve as an anchor—a tie to the surviving, but still unstable lifestyle back in space.

Kass Morgan creates a vivid high-tech world in The 100, where citizens are divided by social standing and resources are limited—of course, except to the upperclass. Back on Earth, the prospects are obviously grim, but it's still a thrill of a journey to follow Clarke, Wells, Bellamy, and the other 97, as they each rediscover a planet that they've only read about in books, yet have such a deep internal connection with. I appreciate the idea of providing different points of view, but think it was slightly too ambitious for the author to try to squeeze a Lord of the Flies-esque conflict AND a love triangle AND an undercurrent of radiation's aftereffects (say what?) into everything. It's all interesting until it just becomes too much; I'd have much preferred one central conflict with stronger relationship-building and more background insight.

While there is no one thing fatally wrong with any of the characters, all four of them are too generic, too idealized. Everyone loves having attractive/smart/clever characters to read about, but they all start to blend together when the author tries to make them all perfect, especially since everyone thinks in close third person. The unrealistic and unextraordinary characterization prevented me from developing any sort of attachment to any of them. The only one that seemed remotely human and believable was Bellamy, our resident rebel. But then again I've always been a sucker for bad boys with a past...

That said, the story itself is filled with drama and tension between the main characters (and secondary characters!) which makes The 100 exciting to read. The sheer nature of the resettlement of our planet is enthralling; Morgan does well with engaging readers to the surprises and twists scattered throughout the novel. There's definitely lots of action-filled scenes and, love it or hate, an INTENSE cliffhanger ending, that just leaves you thirsty for more.

Structurally, I found The 100 quite hard to work with. The constantly changing perspectives get a bit disorienting because it's not just a "he said, she said," but rather a "he said, she said, another he said, another she said." Kind of exhausting. On top of that, each of the narratives are very heavy on backstory which, in good fiction, is absolutely necessary. But when it takes up 50% of the book in the form of italicized flashbacks, it gets out of control.

Pros

Fascinating storyline and world-building // Engaging; keeps you hanging on constantly // Dramatic Earth-bound adventures and minor plot twists // Bellamy is a strongly written character // Ending makes me want to read the second book! That's what ultimately matters, right?

Cons

Abundance of flashbacks is annoying; causes disorder in the flow of the storytelling // Constant narrative shifts also gets chaotic // Stylistically unimpressive // All the characters are grossly idealized (i.e. sweet, pretty/handsome, kind, brave, etc.) and thus pretty forgettable (with the exception of Bellamy) // Cliffhanger ending may cause distress

Love

Bellamy brought his hands behind his head and tilted his face toward the sun, exhaling as the warmth seeped into his skin. It was almost as nice as being in bed with a girl. Maybe even better, because the sun would never ask him what he was thinking.

Verdict

Despite my numerous quips with the lacking characters and structure of The 100, I found myself enjoying it while reading and left wanting more once finished. It's definitely a plot-driven sci-fi novel with lots of action and lots of suspense; if that's your thing, you should totally give it a chance. Kass Morgan's debut is one of those books that isn't mind-blowing, but is still hard to put down, so I definitely understand its appeal to mainstream young adult audiences. While unimpressive in a literary lens or by composition, The 100 is still a promising first installment in an exciting dystopian series