Showing posts with label coming-of-age. Show all posts
Showing posts with label coming-of-age. Show all posts

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.
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 Americanflag

7 hearts: Not perfect, but overall enjoyable; would recommend, but borrow a copy before you buy! (x)

Wednesday, April 9, 2014

9 Heart Review: The Moon Sisters by Therese Walsh + Giveaway! (US)

The Moon Sisters
by Therese Walsh
Writer Unboxed | Fan Page | FacebookTwitter | Goodreads | PinterestFollow the Tour!

Page Count: 317

Release Date: March 4th 2014
Publisher: Crown (Random House)
Source: Complimentary copy provided by publisher via tour publicist in exchange for an honest and unbiased review (thank you, Random House and TLC!)
Rating: ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

This mesmerizing coming-of-age novel, with its sheen of near-magical realism, is a moving tale of family and the power of stories.

After their mother’s probable suicide, sisters Olivia and Jazz take steps to move on with their lives. Jazz, logical and forward-thinking, decides to get a new job, but spirited, strong-willed Olivia—who can see sounds, taste words, and smell sights—is determined to travel to the remote setting of their mother’s unfinished novel to lay her spirit properly to rest.

Already resentful of Olivia’s foolish quest and her family’s insistence upon her involvement, Jazz is further aggravated when they run into trouble along the way and Olivia latches to a worldly train-hopper who warns he shouldn’t be trusted. As they near their destination, the tension builds between the two sisters, each hiding something from the other, until they are finally forced to face everything between them and decide what is really important.
"If you live your whole life hoping and dreaming the wrong things, what does that mean about your whole life?"

Beth Moon believed in one thing her entire adulthood—something that surpassed the importance of her husband, children, and self. Beth Moon was a writer, one who incorporated her dream into every word she penned, and one who penned words into every dream she dreamed. Upon recognizing the inevitable void in her entire crux of belief, she fell into a terrifying depression; and soon after, she took her own life.

But this is not the story of Beth Moon. Not really, anyways. This is the story of Beth Moon's untimely, ill-fated death: the uncovering of and reconciliation with her past, her ailments, her baggage. This is the story of her dreams and her writing: her unsent letters and unfinished novel. Ultimately, however, this is the story of her daughters, Jazz and Olivia Moon, and more importantly: of their inheritance.

Olivia's reality has always been bizarre, so when she decides to toss her mother's ashes into a suitcase and leave her isolated West Virginian hometown to go off to fulfill her mother's yearnings, Jazz isn't all that surprised.
[Olivia has] never been the poster child for sense.
Olivia's unfaltering quest propels the clashing sisters into what begins as a risky adventure—involving traveling, train-hoppers, and the unforgiving wilderness—and ends in devastating but simultaneously uplifting family revelations that makes The Moon Sisters one of the most evocative and perceptive adult coming-of-age novels I've ever read.

Narrated in alternating first-person voices of the two sisters, the novel elegantly embodies the suffocation and restlessness that arises from living in a small town, as well as the many faces and stages of grief. Readers follow both Jazz and Olivia's physical and emotional journeys as they lose their way, find their way, fall apart, and fall in love; with this progression, readers discover how each sister deals with her own denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and finally, triumphantly: acceptance.

One of the most significant questions Therese Walsh raises through both of the Moon daughters is on the worthwhileness of hoping and believing. The elusiveness of dreams—a once-comforting notion—increasingly causes both sisters distress as they reflect upon their respective childhoods and their mother's dismal reason for existence. Is it smart to hope and dream? Is it safe? Does it ever end in anything other than disappointment?

I was impressed by how realistic Jazz, the older sister, is—so flawed and easy to sympathize with. It was difficult for me to like her because she's so uptight, so logical, but I identify with her in so many other ways. Olivia, on the other hand, is a brightly burning character—both on the pages, and off. Her way of thought is difficult to penetrate—partly due to the synesthesia, partly due to the undeveloped sense of maturity—but it doesn't make her any less distinct; she's a colorful, imaginative character who's entirely offbeat, but that much more lovable. Therese Walsh is excellent with describing the flavor of words and the appearance of sounds and the way a person can smell like the sun. As in Amaryllis in Blueberry and A Mango-Shaped Space, the author vividly creates a different kind of reality from within Olivia; the effect is subtly hallucinogenic and staggeringly poetic.

While Hobbs, Olivia's secretive train-hopping companion, is a minor character, his relationship with Olivia smolders, ignites... intoxicates. I won't give too much away, but their slow-building rapport made me melt and shatter and want to cry. The Moon Sisters isn't explicitly a romance, but it contains overwhelming glimpses into the sheer capacity and capability of the human connection, that will desperately make you wish it was.

Illuminated by Walsh's mesmerizing, commanding voice, The Moon Sisters reads dreamlike—magical and dizzying and airy—but still possesses the emotional weight of coping and continuing—the care, keeping, and purging of ghosts, if you will. Readers will easily identify with the firmly planted emotions regarding tortured souls, family bonds, and the weakness and resilience that comes with being human.

Pros


Perfectly blends adventure, family drama, and personal reflection together // Exquisite style // Both sisters' points of view are equally refreshing and intriguing // Olivia and Hobbs... ugh ♥ // Story lulls in pace, but the tension makes it impossible to put down // Emotionally, powerfully reflective of the human heart and propensity to dream // Trippy, dreamlike perspectives are so well constructed

Cons


Slow start // Didn't like how Beth Moon's letters are actually displayed. They seem much too private and were disappointing solely because it seems impossible to write them the way I imagined them

Love

There was no snapping branches or movements between us then. Only a sense of seeing that went beyond what anyone might perceive with eyes.

He's uglier than sin, you know.

I doubted I would believe that even if I weren't living life on periphery and bound for a further edge, if I could see Hobbs's dragon-camouflage skin with all its details. Liking him felt more honest than anything I'd experienced before, too, maybe because of its quick-form, raw-wound beginning and lack of clarity, its sheer instinct, and the fact neither of us had turned yet to run in the other direction.

"You don't scare me, Hobbs."

"Said the girl who stared at the sun."

Verdict


An intricate, intimate portrait of one young woman's quest to carry out her deceased mother's unfulfilled dream—as well as her older sister's determination to put an end to it—The Moon Sisters is a gorgeously crafted and expressive examination of the importance of sticking together as a family, maintaining fair perspective, and the harmful but necessary means of self-preservation. Offering endless discussion on topics such as the true difference between blindness and sight, the role and impact of mothers, and the dangers of the foolish fire that is hope, this would make a terrific book-club read. Therese Walsh skillfully weaves a complicated story with even more complicated roots in this glorious second novel; I love and recommend it wholeheartedly Americanflag

9 hearts: Loved it! This book has a spot on my favorites shelf (x)

Giveaway!


Books à la Mode is giving away one finished print copy of The Moon Sisters—yay!! To enter, all you have to do is tell me:
What's something you're determined to do or experience before you die?

Don't forget to include your email address or Twitter username in your comment so I know who to contact when I choose a winner. Don't make me track you down!!!! No email = No entry!
My serious answer: I know this is way way way too early for me to be thinking about, but I don't want to die before starting my own family. The loving husband, the two-point-five children, the rowdy dog, the white picket fence—all that average stuff ;)
My less serious answer: Write (and publish!) a novel.

What about you?

Please make your comment MEANINGFUL. Comments solely consisting of stock responses or irrelevant fluff like "Thanks for the giveaway!" will not be considered for entry. Therese and I really want to hear from you guys! :)

Don't forget the entry eligibility terms and conditions!
Sponsored wholly by the tour publicist and publisher—a huge thank you to TLC and Random House!
Giveaway ends April 22nd at 11.59 PM (your time).
Open to US residents only—sorry, international readers! Check out my sidebar for a list of currently running giveaways that are open worldwide—there are plenty to choose from!
Void where prohibited.
Winners have 48 hours to claim their prize once they are chosen, or else their winnings will be forfeited.
Although I do randomly select winners, I am in no way responsible for prizes, nor for shipping and handling.
As a reminder, you do not have to follow my blog to enter, though it is always very much appreciated ❤
Good luck!

Monday, September 30, 2013

7 Heart Review: Wait for You by J. Lynn

Wait for You (Wait for You #1)
J. Lynn

Page Count: 384

Release Date: September 3rd 2013 (new paperback edition)
Publisher: William Morrow (Harper Collins)
Source: Complimentary copy provided by publisher, via tour publicist, in exchange for an honest and unbiased review (thank you, Harper Collins and TLC Book Tours!)
Rating: ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

Some things are worth waiting for...

Traveling thousands of miles from home to enter college is the only way nineteen-year-old Avery Morgansten can escape what happened at the Halloween party five years ago—an event that forever changed her life. All she needs to do is make it to her classes on time, make sure the bracelet on her left wrist stays in place, not draw any attention to herself, and maybe—please God—make a few friends, because surely that would be a nice change of pace. The one thing she didn’t need and never planned on was capturing the attention of the one guy who could shatter the precarious future she’s building for herself.

Some things are worth experiencing...

Cameron Hamilton is six feet and three inches of swoon-worthy hotness, complete with a pair of striking blue eyes and a remarkable ability to make her want things she believed were irrevocably stolen from her. She knows she needs to stay away from him, but Cam is freaking everywhere, with his charm, his witty banter, and that damn dimple that’s just so… so lickable. Getting involved with him is dangerous, but when ignoring the simmering tension that sparks whenever they are around each other becomes impossible, he brings out a side of her she never knew existed.

Some things should never be kept quiet...

But when Avery starts receiving threatening emails and phone calls forcing her to face a past she wants silenced, she’s has no other choice but to acknowledge that someone is refusing to allow her to let go of that night when everything changed. When the devastating truth comes out, will she resurface this time with one less scar? And can Cam be there to help her or will he be dragged down with her?

And some things are worth fighting for...
I wasn't sure that I could've gone further. Well, especially now I didn't think so. Cam would eventually move on and I would have an absolutely obliterated heart. Not broken, but completely destroyed, because Cam... he was falling-in-love-with material. And I couldn't let that happen.

With thousands of 5-star reviews all over Goodreads and Amazons and an overhyped fandom, Wait for You was one of new adult novels I was most looking forward to trying. While I did enjoy the book, I don't think—and this might put me on a blacklist with diehard Jennifer Armentrout fans—that it was all that mind-blowing. There is nothing surprising, nothing thrilling, and nothing intricate about this story, but it was, regardless, fun to follow.

Wait for You begins with a collision: the literal, head-on collision of two of the most overused archetypes in NA: the gorgeous-eyed reformed bad boy, Cam Hamilton, and the shy, painfully average new girl in town, Avery Morgansten. This "chance encounter"—as well as the revelation that the two happen to have their next class together, are randomly assigned as lab partners, and are neighbors, for Christ's sake—embodies their entire relationship throughout the novel; it's cheesy, it's contrived, and it's frequently the victim of (un)amused eye-rolling. 

Cam is an absolute dreamboat, but he's too much of a fantasy guy. He's easy to fall in love with, so I loved his humor and swooned over the way he treats Avery, but he's too good to be true, with perfect looks, a perfect family, perfect friends, an unrealistically considerate respect for a woman's body and virtue, etc., which made everything about him hard to believe.

Our narrator Avery is genuine, and likable for the naïve wide-eyed virgin-type, but honestly just doesn't have a fun personality. Humor is often lost on her, she's jumpy as hell, and she's awfully bipolar (i.e. pushes Cam away then throws a fit when he stays away), so I overall found her frustrating. I feel like Lynn intentionally created a huge mess of a character, so I will acknowledge these flaws as character-building, but if Avery was a real-life person, she'd be that weird girl at school who never laughs at jokes, is unnaturally reclusive, and locks herself in her apartment every night to avoid socializing... which she actually does.

Retreating from the rather poorly portrayed main characters, the plot itself is nothing note-worthy. Wait for You has another typical, haunting-past-catches-up-to-present storyline that's all of predictable and starkly unoriginal. I feel like Avery's and Cam's "deep, dark pasts" are supposed to compel and shock—and the issues themselves, are definitely grave and shouldn't be taken lightly—but the way they are revealed is just too simple and straightforward; I wasn't profoundly touched by any of it. But because there are such heavy matters covered, the emotional timbre is poignant; Avery is a sensitive narrator, and all her angsts and desires are easy to relate with.

I fully appreciate the coming-of-age transition, as it's less about Avery's search for identity, and more about Avery reshaping her identity after it's been stripped away. The message of self-empowerment is incredibly potent, although rather two-dimensional—just like the romance. Cam and Avery's sentimental romance can get a little ridiculous at times, but the physical aspect of it hot, and definitely one of the best aspects of the book. It is pretty sexually explicit, but I'm kind of a glutton for that kind of thing.

J. Lynn may not be tremendously skilled with the pen (in fact, her writing is rather elementary and unsophisticated), but she certainly is gifted in transporting readers into a fantasy world, an ideal world where painful pasts can be a topic of intrigue and the hottest boy on campus falls for the troubled, awfully mediocre small-town girl. While Wait for You is a far cry from being a favorite of mine, I enjoyed it the way I admittedly enjoyed Twilight and Fifty Shades of Grey: for its ease of style and mindlessness, as well as the saturated fantasy it offers, the overindulgent "perfect" romance. 

Pros


Cam needs to exist in real life // Effortless read that moves quickly // Smokin' hot sex // Draws you into an expanse of emotions // A feel-good story, perfect for a quick escape

Cons


Cam doesn't exist in real life // Plot lacks originality and complexity // Ridiculously idealized relationship // Everything, from the plot, to the characters, to the romance, is cheesy to the max // Style did not blow me away // Avery is indecisive and sometimes really, really stupid—made her a frustrating narrator // Both main and secondary characters are distressingly shallow

Love

"Fuck, Avery. You think I don't want you? ... Don't ever doubt that I want you. That is not what this is about ... But not like this—never like this. You're drunk, Avery, and when we get together—because we will get together—you're going to be fully aware of everything that I do to you."

It took a few moments, but what he said finally sunk in through the liquor haze and confusion and made sense.

Closing my eyes, I turned my head to the side, feeling the way his skin slid alongside mine. "You're a good guy, Cam."

"No, I'm not." He exhaled deeply and his breath was warm against my cheek. "I'm only good with you."

Verdict


J. Lynn draws readers in to a contemporary college setting in West Virginia where two unlikely lovers—each with a dark secret—together, uncover the power in themselves to rekindle the passions they once thought they'd completely lost. Avery and Cam's tense romance is both stormy and starry-eyed, and although I found it to be unrealistic and clichéd, it is a part of a fast-moving, absorbing account that reminds you of what it means to love. Wait for You is a different kind of coming-of-age novel about resilience, taking chances even after being broken, and refusing to let your past define and limit you. It isn't by any means a masterpiece, but I liked it enough to want to try its sequel Americanflag

7 hearts: Not perfect, but overall enjoyable (x)

Thursday, September 26, 2013

7 Heart Review: Just Between Us by J.H. Trumble and Giveaway!

Just Between Us
J.H. Trumble

Page Count: 320

Release Date: 24 September 2013
Publisher: Kensington
Source: Complimentary copy provided by publisher, via tour publicist, in exchange for an honest and unbiased review (thank you, Kensington and Lady Reader's Bookstuff!)
Rating: ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

Everyone needs someone to trust...

Seventeen-year-old Luke Chesser is trying to forget his spectacular failure of a love life. He practices marching band moves for hours in the hot Texas sun, deals with his disapproving father, and slyly checks out the new band field tech, Curtis Cameron. Before long, Luke is falling harder than he knew he could. And this time, he intends to play it right.

Since testing positive for HIV, Curtis has careened between numbness and fear. Too ashamed to tell anyone, Curtis can't possibly act on his feelings. And Luke—impulsive, funny, and more tempting than he realizes—won't take a hint. Even when Curtis distances himself it backfires, leaving him with no idea how to protect Luke from the truth.

Confronting a sensitive topic with candor and aplomb, acclaimed author J. H. Trumble renders a modern love story as sweet, sharp, and messy as the real thing, where easy answers are elusive, and sometimes the only impossible thing is to walk away.
[Dad] stares up at the night sky again. "I never get tired of looking at the moon. Gravitational pull is a funny thing, isn't it? You can fight it; you can even escape it for a while. But eventually, you have to give in to it."

High school junior Luke Chesser already has a crazy marching band schedule, intense training for drum major tryouts, and a dysfunctional family; the last thing he needs is boy troubles. But Curtis is so cute—and charming to no end—so when he discovers the attraction is mutual, there's no keeping the two apart.

Luke is passionate, determined, and everything Curtis wants, but he's also inexperienced, painfully naïve, and hopelessly romantic, which makes him everything Curtis can't have. When he receives a crippling diagnosis that might as well be his death sentence, he withdraws from the world—in self-pity, self-loathing, and shame—and slowly, painfully cuts himself off from those he loves most—his family and Luke included.

The fact that Trumble chose to write about both HIV and a gay couple in this young adult novel deserves its own category of praise; these are two of the most controversial topics that could appear in children's fiction, and she chose to tackle them simultaneously. Everyone hears about and fears HIV, but it's one of those diseases that "couldn't possibly happen to me," so following Curtis's frightening, completely agonizing journey, was both shocking and completely revealing of how it feels like, on an emotional level, to gradually cease to be a part of this world.

The story and characters are well-developed and very easy to keep up with and enjoy, but the style is rather meticulous, a bit too detail-oriented. For instance, there were entire paragraphs describing the process of cutting down lumber or preparing food, which I found exasperating at times; the superfluous attention to detail often made me want to skim. It's not impossible to get through, however; in fact, Trumble's writing will absorb you directly into the story, as though the lives and loves of each of the characters were your own.

Just Between Us is a powerful account of young love that, even when faced with life-altering obstacles, endures, and how to deal with the things in life we cannot control. I feel like this is kind of a milder, younger audience's version of RENT; think the emotional seclusion of Roger paired with the honeyed tone of David Levithan in this book.

Pros


Established visceral tone // Curtis and Luke are perfect for each other // Moving and affecting // Story is easy to follow // I'm curious about Luke's past now (Nate Schaper appears in J.H. Trumble's previous novels, so maybe I'll give them a try!)

Cons


Not that strong of a voice // Some parts highly unrealistic or too simple

Love

"What do you want to see at the movies tonight?"

"I want to see you sitting next to me."

Verdict


Tender and meltingly romantic, Just Between Us is a coming-of age novel that beautifully illustrates what it means to have the strength to accept yourself the way you are and carry on: to survive. By incorporating both HIV and gay youth—two very important, but very reluctant topics in children's literature—into this rocky, but ultimately triumphant love story, J.H. Trumble proves that she is one of the defining voices in gay YA fiction. Fans of the genre won't want to miss out Americanflag

7 hearts: Not perfect, but overall enjoyable (x)

Giveaway!

One lucky reader will get the chance to read Just Between Us, themselves—we have one finished PRINT copy to give away today! Leave a comment on my review for the chance to win. Be sure to leave your email address so I know who to contact when I draw a winner! Only meaningful comments will go into the contest, which means irrelevant comments consisting of only "Thanks for the giveaway" will not count as an entry!!!

Don't forget the entry eligibility terms and conditions!
Sponsored wholly by the publisher and tour publicist—a huge thank you to Kensington and Lady Reader's Bookstuff Blog Tours!
Giveaway ends October 10th at 11.59 PM (your time).
Open to US readers only. Sorry, everyone else! Check out my sidebar where you'll find a list of giveaways that currently are running internationally—there are plenty to choose from!
Void where prohibited.
Winners have 48 hours to claim their prize once they are chosen, or else their winnings will be forfeited.
Although I do randomly select winners, I am in no way responsible for prizes, nor for shipping and handling.
As a reminder, you do not have to follow my blog to enter, though it is always very much appreciated ❤
Good luck!

Sunday, June 9, 2013

7 Heart Review: Our Song by Jordanna Fraiberg

Read my fascinating interview with the author—which gives so much insight to the book—by clicking here!

Our Song
Jordanna Fraiberg

Page Count: 352

Release Date: 2 May 2013
Publisher: Razorbill (Penguin Group)
Source: Complimentary ARC provided by publisher in exchange for an honest and unbiased review for the Itching for Books virtual book tour (thank you!)
Rating: ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

Olive Bell has spent her entire life in the beautiful suburb of Vista Valley, with a picture-perfect home, a loving family, and a seemingly perfect boyfriend. But after a near-fatal car accident, she's haunted by a broken heart and a melody that she cannot place.

Then Olive meets Nick. He's dark, handsome, mysterious... and Olive feels connected to him in a way she can’t explain. Is there such a thing as fate? The two embark on a whirlwind romance—until Nick makes a troubling confession.

Heartbroken, Olive pieces together what really happened the night of her accident and arrives at a startling revelation. Only by facing the truth can she uncover the mystery behind the song and the power of what it means to love someone.
Olive's carefully constructed life comes crashing down in the wake of an accident that should have, and almost, left her dead. For the first time she is forced—against her Martha Stewart-mother's will—to face imperfection, to face flaws, and it is only when she finally admits to them, she begins to see clearly who the ones that love her are, and just how special a place they hold.

Olive doesn't want to satisfy the expectations of her mother—the mother who prunes her social circle as she prunes her petunias—and realizes she needs to escape the suffocating grasp of Vista Valley, where she hasn't ventured more than a hundred miles past since she was born, all the more. Enter: Nick, a brooding, devastating British bad boy with a penchant for spontaneity and a wicked, wicked smile. And suddenly, Olive is free. Olive is happy. And if she allows herself to, Olive just might find what she's looking for...

Simply put, Our Song is a sweet, coming-of-age YA romance—nothing riveting, but accurately tender in some parts and emotive of teenage angst, insecurity, and heartache in others. There are so many different issues raised in this teen novel, including friendship, rebellion, sexuality, dating danger(ously handsome boys...), the aftermath of a near-death, and of course, Olive's haunting song. They're all great topics, but I was disappointed by how none of them are fully explored, just sort of dabbled in, and then neglected. They do have proper ties at the end of the book, but it's like the author introduced these great plot points, ignored them, and then brought them back up in the closing chapters just to form a clean conclusion.

I had a bit of an issue with Olive. It's not that she's difficult to sympathize with—in fact, I'd say her frustrations and hard-headed determination are easy to relate to—but she just isn't portrayed in a very likable light; through the story's progression, she grows and realizes her mistakes and, as with most young adult novels, she learns from them, but her general attitude towards her friends and naïve ignorance of her surroundings makes her a hard character to grow on. This was mainly a problem for me since she narrates the story first-person; whenever I got annoyed with her, I was still stuck with her because we only ever get to see through her (narrow) perspective.

Nick, on the other hand... I could use a guy like him in my life! He's wonderfully portrayed (let's not kid anyone here, I had a big-time swoon-fest while reading about him), but poorly developed. As a person he seems wonderful and charming and BRITISH♥ but as a book character, he's too quick in his affections for Olive—making him rather unrealistic—and two-dimensional. I thought his troubling past would really add depth to him, but there's really no suspense nor a huge bang leading up to his "dark" secret... it's just suddenly revealed, which was not only anticlimactic, but also further weakened his character.

Fraiberg is a storyteller at heart and really knows how to integrate the protagonist's point of view into the novel. Stylistically, Our Song is straightforward and contemporary in tone; this could be your own diary.

Pros


Great voice // Fraiberg captures teen spirit perfectly // Authentic depiction of high school horrors // I want Annie as my best friend! // Story moves quickly and smoothly; constantly left me wanting more // Evocative of Los Angeles and surrounding areas // Clean, chaste romance

Cons


Olive is rather bratty // As much as I loved Nick, he isn't anything special... mostly because he's underdeveloped as a character and because his big dark "secret" is too hurried at the end // Olive's romance with Nick, mysterious song, emotional healing, and coming-to-terms with self are all a bit disjointed

Love

There was just a thin piece of cotton separating us, and I could practically feel his warm skin through my sleeve. It was like the charged cackle of static electricity. We weren't touching, but almost. Maybe it was better this way, standing on the edge, suspended in between, where you can't get your hopes up too high or your heart broken.

Verdict


Jordanna Fraiberg's newest novel is a fast-moving account of Olive's post-tragedy struggles that touches upon the pain of heartbreak, the true meaning of love and companionship, and the importance of accepting second chances. As heavy as the topics of this book are, the story itself doesn't go too deeply into them, so for the most part, this was a light, undemanding read—although it does have its share of bleak, depressing notes. I was disappointed by the lack of complexity and weightier content, but still enjoyed Our Song regardless. This is a fun, believable, and ultimately touching book, and simultaneously a fantastic addition to the YA and middle-grade genres Americanflag

7 hearts: Not perfect, but overall enjoyable (x)

Read my fascinating interview with the author—which gives so much insight to the book—by clicking here!

Friday, March 29, 2013

9 Heart Review: Geography Club by Brent Hartinger

Geography Club (Russel Middlebrook #1)
Brent Hartinger

Page Count: 226

Release Date: 13 March 2003 (first edition)
Publisher: HarperTempest (HarperCollins Publishers)
Source: Complimentary copy provided by author in exchange for an honest and unbiased review (thank you!)
Rating: ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

Russel Middlebrook is convinced he's the only gay kid at Goodkind High School.

"I knew that any wrong action, however slight, could reveal my true identity..."

Then his online gay chat buddy turns out to be none other than Kevin, the popular but closeted star of the school's baseball team. Soon Russel meets other gay students, too. There's his best friend Min, who reveals that she is bisexual, and her soccer-playing girlfriend Terese. Then there's Terese's politically active friend, Ike.

But how can kids this diverse get together without drawing attention to themselves?

"We just choose a club that's so boring, nobody in their right mind would ever in a million years join it. We could call it Geography Club!"

Brent Hartinger's debut novel is a fast-paced, funny, and trenchant portrait of contemporary teenagers who may not learn any actual geography in their latest club, but who learn plenty about the treacherous social terrain of high school and the even more dangerous landscape of the human heart.
Buy the book at: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | The Book Depository | Sony eStore | Kobo

Review


In the conservative, oppressive town of Goodkind, Russel Middlebrook faces his biggest fear—publicly coming out—as he slowly discovers there are others at his own school, stubbornly questioning and reconciling with their sexualities, just like he is. In this town and in this decade, gay-straight alliances are unheard of—scorned, even—but upon kindling a brotherhood with the diverse group of people who are so different from him, and yet so similar, he learns that sometimes being yourself, no matter how hard, is more important than any reputation, any sort of acceptance, and any lie he'd be living otherwise.

I was so impressed by this children's LGBT novel both because of the controversial topic it daringly confronts, and by the strength and grace with which it is written. Russel's realistic first-person narrative—one of the pioneering gay narrations in YA fiction—is a pleasure to read and captures the horrors and injustices of the high school social scene penetratingly, but in an appropriate, parent-approved fashion. I loved him as a character as well; he's so awkward, nice, and hilarious in an adorable teenage boy way. We need more gay narrators for YA!

I also adore Russel's best friends, Min and Gunnar, because they aren't portrayed as the typical "he's been my BFFL and always has my back no matter what" crap. They're so flawed—so flavored—and that makes them so, so real.

This book is touching, frightening, and compelling in all the right paces. It accurately conveys the fear of learning to cross and even break the invisible, vicious barriers within the high school social ladder, but not explicitly; it leaves just enough to the imagination, which is why I wholeheartedly recommend it to the younger crowd, too.

The unexpected alliance Russel finds within Goodkind High School, the belonging and the assurance, highlights the importance of companionship and honesty of which I think all teenagers still need to be reminded. Even though Geography Club was written over ten years ago, the relationships Hartinger portrays stand the test of time in a poignant, universal story that readers of any age and any sexual orientation will love. In Geography Club, a handful of brave, passionate students stumble upon a connection in which they each can be completely honest with each other, as well as with themselves, for the first time in their young lives. This exchange of feelings and struggles that would otherwise be repressed is both gritty and soulful, and constitutes a brilliant coming-of-age novel.


Pros


Interesting, suspenseful storyline // Cutting humor—I laughed out loud so many times! // Realistic, but still lovable characters // Russel's voice is so accurate // Tackles a sensitive issue fluidly and in a way that will encourage young readers

Cons


Not enough rising action... wish there'd been more drama before the final climax

Love

We bought tickets for the stupid romantic comedy rated PG-13, but once we were inside the multiplex, Kimberly said she wanted to see the stupid erotic thriller rated R instead. As for me, I didn't want to see either the romantic comedy or the erotic thriller. I wanted to see the animated Disney musical, which I guess just proved that I really was the gay boy that I'd been thinking all along that I was.
—LOL this is why I love Russel!

Verdict


Brent Hartinger's inspiring and dazzling debut isn't just a novel about gay adolescents; it touches upon important global teen matters of friendship, identity, and the courage to speak out, as well. I loved everything about it—the characters, the voice, the absorbing plot—and think it's one of those books that all young adult (14-16) and maybe the more-mature middle grade (11-14) readers ought to try Americanflag

9 hearts: Loved it! This book has a spot on my favorites shelf (x)

Sunday, February 24, 2013

9 Heart Review: Leverage by Joshua C. Cohen

Leverage
Joshua C. Cohen

Page Count: 425

Release Date: 27 September 2012 (reprint edition)
Publisher: Speak (Penguin)
Source: Complimentary copy provided by author in exchange for an honest and unbiased review (thank you!)
Rating: ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

There's an extraordinary price for victory at Oregrove High.

It is paid on—and off—the football field. And it claims its victims without mercy—including the most innocent bystanders.

When a violent, steroid-infused, ever-escalating prank war has devastating consequences, an unlikely friendship between a talented but emotionally damaged fullback and a promising gymnast might hold the key to a school's salvation.

Told in alternating voices and with unapologetic truth, Leverage illuminates the fierce loyalty, flawed justice, and hard-won optimism of two young athletes.

Review


Sports fiction will always have a special place in my heart because it combines two of my favorite things: sports and... well... fiction (okay, shut up).

I grew up with Dan Gutman and Mike Lupica, but I think Leverage was probably my first venture into older teen sports fiction, and definitely my first one about football (which, might I add, is my all-time favorite spectator sport). I know by the blurb, it sounds like another Friday Night Lights, another head-butting, sweat-packed story about the strength that goes into football and the tough friendships formed along the way, but isn't—it definitely isn't. Leverage is much, much more: It's deeper, more tragic, and more grueling than any other sports novel I've read before, and it's an unexpectedly jarring, as well as unexpectedly hopeful story that everyone should be aware of.


There are so many different issues tackled in Leverage, including the nit 'n' grit of two very competitive varsity sports teams, the treacherous social structure of high school, and an unspeakable crime against innocence, that all throw outsider, Danny Meehan, into chaos. A determined gymnast and self-proclaimed "nobody," Danny knows better than to mess with Oregrove High's most powerful social circle: the football players. It hasn't been too long since I last cheered on my own high school football team in the stands, so I knew exactly the atmosphere, exactly the rush of the crowd, that Cohen portrays. I do feel his evocation is a bit exaggerated, because never have I met such mean high schoolers, nor such brutal teenagers, but then again, I'm no Danny Meehan; having never gone to school actually fearing for my safety, I've probably never noticed the great, disastrous social divide. 


When Kurt Brodsky, a terrifying rock of a fullback with a mysterious, painful past, treads softly onto Oregrove's social scene, Danny sees the school's dynamic doing a fabulous turnover. Suddenly, football players actually seem human, and he even builds up a little bit of courage for himself. All of this comes crashing down when he alone witnesses an inconceivable act of violence, and then is forced to live with the guilt of the ramifications that succeed it.


The hazardous burdens upon a faultless witness, as well as the morality that separates the bystanders from the perpetrators, are embodied seamlessly within Danny's conscience. I think Leverage is a book that everyone should be talking about, just for the hundred and one issues it raises on current events such as child abuse, sports security, and bullying.


I'm afraid to say anymore because I don't know if I could without spoiling the story/fangirling hard, but I will leave you with this: Leverage presents the darkest, most horrifying tragedy you could probably imagine in a contemporary teenage setting. I place this work of young adult fiction apart from others because while others may convey equal brute and equal atrocity, none has ever been so real, so realistic. 

Now, if Leverage was a film, it would be rated R, not only for disturbing content, but also for some language, violence, and sexuality. (Not that any of it was enough to bother me—with the exception of one stomach-dropping scene that literally made me tremble—but just a warning: this is most certainly not your sweet, chaste young adult read! I repeat, this is NOT YOUR SWEET, CHA-)


Someone cut me off. Anyway. I love Cohen's voice. Leverage is split up into two narratives: one of the smart, smart-assy Danny, and one of the worn and leather-hard, but still tender Kurt. The high school dynamic is perfectly captured—from the tiny little observances regarding teachers and their inability to ever be subtle, down to the reeking of every boys' locker rooms (don't ask me how I know what a boys' locker room smells like)—and this is mainly the reason why Leverage is so true-to-life, and why it hits so close to home. Like I mentioned before, some of the secondary characters (e.g. the inflatedly brainless football players and the overly determined coaches) are a bit too much; I understand the author meant to caricaturize specific stereotypes within these supporting characters, but it did make the story slightly unrealistic. Fortunately, our two protagonists are perfectly proportioned and perfectly probed, which contributed a lot to my enjoyment of the book.


Kurt was an easy character to like—the gentle giant with a huge heart. The slow uncovering of his secretive past is riveting, and his ultimate triumph astonishing. I loved reading about him warming up to Oregrove, and eventually overcoming his darkest of demons.


Danny was more difficult to sympathize with, even though he's portrayed as the "victim" in many cases, so scrawny and well, kind of a geek, as he is. His attitude is generally snobby and condescending (even on top of his acknowledgement of being at the bottom of the high school social ladder), but it helps shape the plot of the book; in fact, the shift we victoriously see within Danny is what shapes the entire climax, in the first place. While I can't say I immediately liked him, I can say he's a well-fleshed, well-written character essential to the book's procession. Cohen did an excellent job with the main characters.


Leverage is vicious and emotionally searing, but there's a lyrical ending note that makes it all worth it in the end. Leverage is definitely a harsh ride, but there are some weighty issues within it that readers will pick up and take to heart. I am truly impressed with Cohen's accurate representation of the modern high school dynamic, his hard-hitting revelations on injustice and corruption within a sports system, and the disturbing, crude consequences of teenage bullying he reveals is prevalent in society today. The overall complexity and depth of this simply-presented novel astound me.


Pros


Nothing is held back; raw, crude, vicious // Great portrayal of a high school // FOOTBALL! Need I say more? // Impressively dynamic characters // Intricate plot // Easy to read and follow

Cons


Some characters are too stereotypical // Flow of the writing sometimes gets dull

Love

"Duh-duh-do you hear everything in muh-muh-my helmet?" I ask, feeling suddenly exposed.

"That's right, my friend." She smiles in a way that makes me bring a hand in front of my crotch. "Everything."

Verdict


Leverage is a coming-of-age football novel that holds no barriers and has no inhibitions. It will take your breath away and have your blood pumping madly; the adrenaline players feel, readers will definitely feel, and that rush—that delirious heart-pounding, throbbing, thrilling sensation—will reverberate effortlessly through their spines. Tragic, appalling, but all-the-while confident and anchored in tone, this young adult story about the power of perseverance and the importance of keeping courage—even if only for a few minutes longer—is sure to be a crowd-pleaser. Fans will go wild over Joshua C. Cohen's stunning debut Americanflag

9 hearts: Loved it! This book has a spot on my favorites shelf (x)