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Book-review post!

by clairehennessy

(Two YA and two contemporary women’s fiction this time around, all 2012 releases. Feeling moderately up to date! Also, three out of four titles here have moments that are likely to induce sobbing. Just sayin’.)

John Green – The Fault In Our Stars
Regular readers of this blog will be aware of my wariness of hype. I did a fair bit of dithering over whether or not to buy the book in hardback, then gave in and devoured it within twenty-four hours. And. OH. In the interest of avoiding spoilers, I will just say: page 153 was the point where the book went from ‘yeah, okay, this is good’ to ‘that just stole my breath a little bit’. Pages 202-3 were perfect. Page 213 BROKE ME INTO TINY PIECES. As did almost every page after that. (I’m not especially prone to getting sad over kids-with-cancer books. I devoured far too many Lurlene McDaniel novels in my impressionable youth. But the realness of this, the quirky vivid sometimes-snarky feel of it, takes it many steps beyond the predictable.) This is being added to my ‘YA books to recommend to grown-ups and make them realise the brilliance that exists in YA’ list.

Felicity McCall – Large Mammals, Stick Insects, and Other Social Misfits
Very funny and smart and witty book set in Derry, focusing on the activities of Aimee McCourt Logan, a compulsive fifteen-year-old listmaker, and her friends. The story centres around a cross-border co-operation project between their school and a South Dublin one, but there’s lots more going on. It deals with heavy issues without ever being overwhelming, and is readable and amusing without ever feeling fluffy. One to watch out for.

Jojo Moyes – Me Before You
Grown-uppy one about a twentysomething named Lou who ends up working as a carer for a grumpy man, Will, who became a quadraplegic after a motorbike accident. Lou’s life has been a small one; Will’s was adventurous and challenging until his accident. They form an awkward sort of friendship, and then Lou finds out the reason she’s only been hired for six months. This is wonderfully funny at times, and will break your heart at others. Well worth reading.

Sarah Webb – The Shoestring Club
Julia is twenty-four and a bit of a mess. She drinks too much, doesn’t know what she wants to do with her life, and the love of her life is engaged to her ex-best friend, Lainey. When she finds herself working full-time for her prickly older sister, Pandora, in Pandora’s designer swap shop, she has a chance to use some of her creativity – but it’s not an answer to her problems by any means. Her ex, Ed, is still lurking around, and one particular episode of binge drinking has her family – including her feisty grandmother, Bird – concerned and watchful. Part of the story focuses on Julia’s scheme to get to wear the perfect dress to Lainey and Ed’s wedding, to prove she’s over it all, and the club she sets up to time-share the dress; there’s also lots about the family dynamics and Julia’s relationship with the boy next door, Jamie. (I adored Jamie from his very first appearance – what a dote.) Very readable, with a central character that I sometimes wanted to hug and sometimes wanted to applaud. Already looking forward to the sequel – from Pandora’s POV – and hoping to learn more about the other members of the Shoestring Club.


Book-review post!

by clairehennessy

All YA this time around…

John Green – Paper Towns
I am torn. There is plenty of niftiness here, but for something that’s trying to deconstruct the Manic Pixie Dream Girl idea, it also ends up validating it an awful lot. There’s cleverness, and many quotable quotes, and I love the whole copyright trap thing, and the interactions between the friends, but ultimately I think I wanted more than just Margo’s overly-articulate speeches of explanation and backstory at the end. I wanted her thoughts, her take on things the whole way through; I wanted us to see the misimagining rather than have it explained for us at the end. And I wanted to see Q as someone more than an average high school senior obsessed with the girl next door. So slightly disappointed in this one (I know, I know, sacrilege – and possibly more about what I was hoping for from the book than what the book was hoping for) but I’ll still be reading The Fault In Our Stars to see how it goes.
[Note from later: read TFIOS. Thoughts in next book-post!]

Kristen Tracy – A Field Guide for Heartbreakers
Dessy and Veronica, best friends and aspiring writers, are off to Prague for a writers’ seminar. Even though they’ve applied for a non-fiction seminar, they end up in the short story section that Veronica’s mother is teaching. Both of them have recently had break-ups – Dessy, the narrator, quieter than Veronica, still misses her boyfriend (who gave her a laminated list of her faults) a lot, while Veronica’s determined to flirt and possibly more with as many Hot Dudes as possible during their time in Prague. A very funny and astute book, with as much focus on friendships, family, and storytelling as there is on romance. I really loved all the bits set in the creative writing seminar (apparently I don’t get enough of that in real life!) too.

Josie Bloss – Faking Faith
I loved the concept of this book as soon as I heard it. Dylan is a pariah at school after a ‘sexting’ incident, and she becomes obsessed with a particular set of blogs – especially blogs by homeschooled Christian fundamentalist girls who are all about serving the Lord, submitting to the men in their lives, and being chaste. Dylan creates an alter ego, Faith, and in time befriends one particular blogger, Abigail, who eventually invites her to stay with her for a couple of weeks. It’s more than just a ‘fake identity’ story and a ‘be careful what you wish for’ tale – even though Dylan is initially enchanted by the rural wholesome lifestyle, and then sees some of the more problematic aspects of such a limited world, its good points are still acknowledged. There’s a love story too, with some swoon-worthy kisses. Well worth checking out.

S.J. Adams – Sparks
Another Flux book – I am very much liking the stuff they’re doing. Debbie has been in love with her best friend Lisa for years, who’s super-pure and wholesome. Debbie’s been hiding bits of herself – including her probable atheism – from Lisa, but when she finds out Lisa’s about to hook up with her vile boyfriend, she ends up on a wacky night-long quest with Emma and Tim, two believers in a made-up religion called Bluedaism, to stop it from happening. Lots of quirkiness here, and the rush of new friendships is portrayed convincingly.

Elizabeth Scott – Between Here and Forever
Abby waits for her older sister Tess to wake up from a coma, but when she meets the very-yummy Eli, she finds herself seen as herself, and not perfect Tess’s younger sister, for the first time in her life. Always in her sister’s shadow, Abby is angry and hurt by a number of things, but as she learns more about Tess’s secret life she realises they have more in common than she previously thought. Fast-paced but emotionally engaging read.


Book-review post!

by clairehennessy

Kate Le Vann – Things I Know About Love
Eeep, a tear-jerker. Livia’s spending the summer with her brother in the States and meets the lovely Adam – someone who might just repair her broken heart and show her what real love is. Gorgeously written – love the voice and the details – but, yes, tear-jerker.

Popular – Gareth Russell
If Ryan Murphy and Cecily von Ziegesar had a baby, then immersed it thoroughly in the nuances of Belfast life, this would be what you’d get. The novel focuses on the popular crowd and the borderline-sociopathic behaviour used to manipulate situations and to, well, be fabulous. The proportion of zappy, often bitchy one-liners per page is impressive, and (as I have been squeeing about on twitter), it also wins bonus points for featuring LGBT characters and acknowledging bisexuality exists. Ooh, and for sneaky historical references (Meredith being compared to Elizabeth I – marvellous).

Adam Gidwitz – A Tale Dark and Grimm
Oh. This is genius. Lots of Grimm fairy tales woven in together cleverly, with Hansel and Gretel at the centre of it. So much fun (and lots of gory bits), and yet moving and wise at the same time. A must-read for anyone into their fairy tales.

Cat Clarke – Torn
Cat Clarke’s second book is just as fast-paced, compulsively readable and authentically teenage (especially the nastiness) as her first. Maybe more so. Alice is not a total outcast, but not popular – not like bitchy Tara, who she was friends with once upon a time. On a school trip, Alice ends up in a cabin with four others: her best friend, a social climber who hates Tara, a music-addicted emo girl, and Tara herself. When they decide to teach Tara a lesson, things go Horribly Wrong. It’s what happens afterwards – at school, amongst the girls, and with Tara’s brother Jack – that the book is mostly concerned with. While the plotline in some ways does what you expect (there is horrible guilt that can only be borne for so long!), it twists and turns in other ways. Well worth checking out.

Mary McEvoy – How The Light Gets In
For most Irish people Mary McEvoy will forever be Biddy in Glenroe, although I remember her much more vividly from her performance in Dublin’s first performance of The Vagina Monologues – I still remember some of her intonations and gestures. Whereas my recollections of her in Glenroe are nothing but a series of big knitted jumpers. Anyway. McEvoy has spoken openly about her struggles with depression throughout her adult life, and in this book she shares her thoughts and coping mechanisms. It’s part memoir, part self-help, and occasionally preachy (though usually about areas other than mental health) but mostly very useful and wise. Lots of Buddhism and quotes and an emphasis on living with rather than curing depression. (It’s also interesting from a social history point of view, with snippets about the theatre and TV world in Ireland before the Celtic Tiger.)


Book-review post!

by clairehennessy

(First book-review post of the year, although these are all 2011 reads.)

Tom Perrotta – The Leftovers
I love Tom Perrotta. A lot. A lot a lot. I was slightly wary of this one – a depiction of a post-Rapture society – but actually it’s classic Perrotta. The small details and secrets and neuroses of everyday life, with gorgeous sentences and nifty characters. Perrotta’s previous book, The Abstinence Teacher, explored the power of religion in American society; The Leftovers asks what would happen if the Rapture – or a Rapture-like phenomenon – took place. The focus is on the small scale – what happens to a particular town, a particular couple of families. Nora lost her husband and her two children; while Kevin’s family has split apart – his wife’s joined a cult called the Guilty Remnant, his daughter’s grown distant, and his son’s followed a preacher, Holy Wayne, who’s recently been at the centre of a scandal. The story moves quietly through these lives, focusing on moments, small events, even as the plot twists and turns in ways sometimes surprising, sometimes chilling. There’s an element of social satire here, but it’s more wry-smile and knowing-nod than laugh-out-loud funny. A hugely enjoyable read, though I’d have loved for it to be longer.

Elizabeth O’Hara – Snobs, Dogs and Scobies
Originally written in Irish, now translated into English this year. Ruán, Emma and Colm are about to sit their Leaving Cert exams, but an accident changes everything. There’s a lot happening here but it’s never melodramatic, and the characters are all well-drawn. The gaps between the well-to-do and the working classes are explored, and it’s a really authentic South Dublin setting (some nice details in there about buses, colleges, etc). She has a new book out as Gaeilge this year too, but as someone still scarred from the last full-length text she read in Irish (An Triail), I’ll be keeping my fingers crossed for a translation of that one, too.

Cathy Kelly – Past Secrets
It’d been a while since I’d read Cathy Kelly, but this one doesn’t disappoint (I’ve also caught up with Once In A Lifetime and Lessons in Heartbreak recently – both excellent). The residents of Summer Street all have secrets – middle-aged Christie, keeping something from her devoted husband; respectable Faye, hiding the truth about her past from her daughter; insecure Maggie, haunted by the bullying she experienced at school. Secrets have a way of coming out, though, and what happens when they do shapes this warm and page-turning story.

Nora Roberts – River’s End
As someone who is consistently rubbish at guessing the identity of the villain, I was very pleased to guess something early on that turned out to be right. Yay! Anyway. Olivia is the daughter of two film stars, and age four she goes downstairs to find her father, bloody scissors in hand, hovering over her mother’s dead body. Angst ensues. She goes to live with her grandparents, keeping in touch with Frank Brady, the policeman who found her that night, and his family, including his son, Noah, who remains fascinated by the case – and Olivia – throughout his life. Olivia is a marvellous tough cookie, and the dynamic between her and Noah is excellent. One to curl up with and get sucked into.

Sinéad Moriarty – Whose Life Is It Anyway
Also published as ‘Keeping It In the Family’, I have recently discovered. This was the first of Sinéad Moriarty’s books I’d read, having heard very good things about her. And while there’s a lot to like – the voice, snappy dialogue, the flashbacks to a convincingly self-absorbed teenage self – this book struck me as fairly problematic. The story shifts between the protagonist’s adolescence, in the mid-eighties, and the ongoing crisis in her life, in the late nineties – namely, that her fiancé, Pierre, is black and her parents won’t approve. There are some potentially interesting points made about culture (Niamh’s background/upbringing is Irish/English, Pierre’s is Martinique/French/English), but all-in-all it comes across as deeply, deeply screwed-up without ever being acknowledged as such. It’s accepted by all the characters – including Pierre himself – that it’s okay for Niamh’s family to find it problematic that she’s found a black fiancé rather than a good Irish Catholic. Now, racism does exist, still, obviously, but it tends to be a little more subtle and insidious than is presented here, where all the characters gasp and go ‘Oh, he’s not black, is he? Why did you have to find yourself a black husband?’ Niamh’s extended family are also deeply screwed up, but this is played oddly, not quite for laughs – her teenage cousin pushes her drunk father down the stairs to his death and this is covered up, her dad’s family manipulate him into giving them money despite not needing it. And I can’t see how anyone living in Ireland could not find it deeply cringeworthy that their family is so over-the-top leprechauny. And it’s played straight – she hears about Irish history from her grandparents and becomes pro-Irish, and her reconciliation of two cultures is talked about towards the end. I’d be interested in trying out another of her books, but this one made me distinctly uncomfortable and not quite convinced.

Heather Morrall – Shrink
Eloise is sixteen, about to sit her GCSEs, and anorexic. She has a troubled, tense relationship with her father, whose nervous breakdowns after the deaths of his son and wife (Eloise’s little brother and her mum) have meant that Eloise has spent much of her childhood worrying about him. Most of the book focuses on various meanings of the word ‘shrink’ – Eloise’s English class are looking at Gulliver’s Travels and the tiny people of that are mentioned, but also the shrinking that Eloise is trying to do to herself, and the ‘shrinks’ she deals with in her quest to get better. I found her therapists deeply upsetting – she sees three in total, and the first two are utterly horrible people. Now, there are useless therapists around, certainly, but I found it difficult to believe that two separate therapists could be that awful and mean and unprofessional and for it not to be an issue, for there not to have been countless complaints (even if nothing was ultimately done about it). There’s a hint of that from a girl Eloise meets, Abigail, but the comments don’t even get close to the complete and utter screwed-up-ness of these women. For me this was less a novel about anorexia as it was about deeply, deeply problematic issues with the treatment of it in ‘the system’, but the book focuses more on the former.

Melissa Hill – Please Forgive Me
Leonie leaves Dublin for San Francisco, and along with a new friend, becomes fascinated by a set of unopened letters all ending with a plea for forgiveness. Another great Melissa Hill title with a twisty mystery at the centre.

Joanne Horniman – About a Girl
Australian YA novel about Anna’s first love – the beautiful Flynn, a musician with a secret or two up her sleeve. Introspective, beautifully written.

Liz Kessler – A Year Without Autumn
Gorgeous novel for 9+ about growing up, friendship, family, and time travel. Jenni is twelve, on holidays with her family at the same resort as her best friend, Autumn. When she steps a year into the future, she learns about a tragedy that alters both of their families forever – can she prevent it? I’m a sucker for time travel stories that focus on characterisation rather than adventure and sci-fi-ness (see also Rebecca Stead’s When You Reach Me, for the same age, or Audrey Niffenegger’s The Time Traveller’s Wife for grown-up types), and this didn’t disappoint.

Damian Dibben – The History Keepers: The Storm Begins
And speaking of time travel… This first volume in a new series features time travel through history, in order to save it from the bad guys. Our hero, Jake Djones, discovers his missing parents are members of the secret History Keepers organisation, and joins the quest to find them and discover what’s going on in sixteenth-century Venice. The book is packed with fun historical references (some more accurate than others) and nifty ideas; the trouble for me was that the supporting characters (the style-conscious young agent Nathan and Jake’s aunt Rose get some of the best lines, for example) consistently outshone Jake. He has a couple of endearing moments, but his shift from passive to active hero didn’t feel particularly convincing. Overall the book feels like something waiting to be adapted for the screen (which it will be shortly, I believe) rather than a novel; so many of the scenes have sudden viewpoint shifts or things that would just work better on screen. There are also a few too many characters introduced here to get a handle on all of them (there’s a lot being set up for future volumes). A bit disappointing, but I like the premise an awful lot and will probably check out the next book in the series just to see how it goes (out autumn 2012).


Favourite YA books of 2011

by clairehennessy

… in my opinion, entirely subjective, yadda yadda. And in no particular order. (My favourites of 2010 can be found here.)

The list
Jeri Smith-Ready – Shift
Caragh M O’Brien – Prized
Laura Jane Cassidy – Angel Kiss
Denise Deegan – And For Your Information…
Deb Caletti – Stay
Gayle Forman – Where She Went
Veronica Roth – Divergent
Patrick Ness – A Monster Calls
Cat Clarke – Entangled
Lauren Oliver – Delirium

The breakdown:
Dystopian: 3
Contemporary/realistic: 3
Paranormal: 2
Magic-realism-ish-maybe: 2
Authors I’d read before: 7
Authors new to me: 3

Trends:
- surprised there’s not more contemporary stuff on it, as that’s most of what I read. But also sort of feel that I tended to be more surprised by non-realism stuff that worked really well for me, and maybe liked it more because of that.
- lots of books that are part of a series, a trilogy or even a two-book set. Only three stand-alones (Entangled, Stay, A Monster Calls).
- also several books that are second books in trilogies or sequels. Now that is odd – sequels can be disappointing, and middle books in trilogies can be difficult. Wonder if these were more impressive because of typical difficulties with these types of books?
- the two paranormal ones (Angel Kiss and Shift) are ones I love in part because they seem more plausible than vampires or werewolves or zombies.
- all single-author novels this year, no short story collections or collaborations (unless you count the Ness one maybe? From an idea by Siobhan Dowd).
- I’d like there to be more British teen stuff in there – I feel like there should be, somehow. And also another male author or two wouldn’t go amiss.
- I’m still loving the dystopian stuff. It makes up for the fact that the bookshelves are still a little too crammed with sexy vampires.

Bonus mentions:
- Jennifer Donnelly’s Revolution and Stephanie Perkins’s Anna and the French Kiss were both late 2010 releases, but I didn’t read them ’til this year, so yes, must make note of these. Both Parisian, funnily enough. The former involves time travel back to the 1790s and the latter involves a boarding school. No further explanation should be necessary as to why I adored these books.


Attempting to yap about picture books

by clairehennessy

I’ve been trying to think of ways to talk about picture books.

But picture books are hard to talk about. They have pictures that do so much of the work – images that invite you into the land of the visual and leave you somewhat unable to explain them and their appeal with just words.

(I did think about pictures, but I cannot draw. I draw stick figures and small children laugh at them. I’ll stick to the words.)

It might be just me. Other people seem to find it manageable to talk expertly about the picture-y bits.

Anyway.

I was sick recently, with that winterish blaaaaargh thing that kicks in around this time of year. So I went reading and rereading picture books, which were less intimidating than big blocks of text.

And then it occurred to me that I rarely do picture-book yap here, so here’s… some making up for that.

One of my all-time favourites is The Gruffalo (Julia Donaldson and Axel Scheffler). A little mouse goes walking in the woods, facing scary creatures. Lovely rhymes, and a delightful ending. Room on the Broom, by the same pair, is also terrific.

Michael Rosen’s Sad Book (Michael Rosen) has those fabulous scratchy Quentin Blake illustrations and is about being sad – it starts off being about the specific grief of losing someone (in Rosen’s case, his son) but expands into sadness more generally. Very moving, gets you right in the gut.

Shaun Tan’s The Red Tree is gorgeous. The text is very straightforward; the images take it all to a completely different, vivid, slightly mad level. (This is also the sort of book that rewards careful rereading and re-looking.)

The Sesame Street book The Monster at the End of This Book is just delightful.

Crockett Johnson’s Harold and the Purple Crayon is a classic and very very sweet – Harold draws a road with his purple crayon and goes on a variety of adventures.

Shel Silverstein’s The Giving Tree is one I like but am not sure I love – I find it very sad, more so than inspirational.

Marie-Louise Fitzpatrick’s There is very, very pretty and lovely. What is ‘there’ like and how will you know it?

And on a related note – Dr Seuss’s Oh, the Places You’ll Go! is a long-time favourite of mine. Very charming rhymes, wise advice, and a dash of lunacy.

Oliver Jeffers’s The Heart and the Bottle is probably the picture book I have recommended most to people who don’t ‘do’ picture books. It will almost certainly make you cry. Stuck, however, will make you laugh. A lot. And The Incredible Book-Eating Boy is very very pretty.

Carol Ann Duffy’s The Lost Happy Endings is gorgeous – good for slightly older picture-book readers (the language is a bit more complex than many of the others mentioned here) and for anyone who likes fairytales and storytelling. My favourite illustration is the one where the sack of happy endings is shook out into the air, with golden happily-ever-after sentences dancing down the page. So pretty!


Book-post!

by clairehennessy

Aha, yes, it has been a while, hasn’t it? Thoughts on recently-read books, some more detailed than others.

Stephanie Perkins – Anna and the French Kiss
This debut from Stephanie Perkins is adorable, and funny, and sweet, and painful, and deeply deeply romantic. Anna is spending her senior year of high school at an American boarding school in Paris (Paris!) but despite appreciating that it’s, you know, Paris, she’s also nervous about being in a new city alone, without speaking the language, and wishes she’d been given a choice. Very quickly, though, she makes friends, including the delicious Etienne (actually British, despite the French name), who she very quickly falls for. Trouble is, he has a girlfriend. The will-they-won’t-they plot is handled beautifully, woven in throughout Anna’s other friendships and relationships (both in Paris and back home in Atlanta) and her exploration of Paris. I loved that Etienne was a history nerd (not the exact phrasing used in the book, but, oh, gosh, he so is, and it’s delightful), and afraid of heights, and so very much not perfect. Theirs is a very messy but very authentic and sweet story, and one that’s definitely worth reading. (Plus. Boarding school. In Paris. These things make me happy.)
(Also – there is a bonus scene on the author’s website in which Star Trek is discussed. Oh my.)

David Levithan & Rachel Cohn – Dash and Lily’s Book of Dares
Another collaboration between Levithan and Cohn, a he-said she-said romance which travels around New York and mentions The Strand bookstore an awful lot. I loved reading this – it’s full of the usual quirky, insightful teen characters that you’d expect from these two, but it also let me live vicariously through them and do Christmas-in-New-York. Worth reading.

Melissa Hill – Something From Tiffany’s
This was another book with a Christmas-in-New-York part, strangely enough, though it concentrates on the less bookish corners. After an accident, two Tiffany’s boxes get mixed up, and widower Ethan, who’d been planning to propose to his new girlfriend, instead finds a charm bracelet. Meanwhile, restaurant co-owner Rachel can’t stop herself from peeking in her boyfriend Gary’s Christmas shopping – and when she finds a ring she’s absolutely delighted. The mix-up scenario, and the fall-out from it, is made plausible, and there are a few extra twists and turns along the way. Highly enjoyable.

Melvin Burgess – Kill All Enemies
To be honest, every time I’d heard about this book it had been linked with the London riots, so my impression of it before reading was that it was some kind of dystopian nightmare. It isn’t – it’s the story of three teenagers in PRUs (pupil referral units) in England, the acting-out types who all have reasons for it. Much more optimistic than I was expecting, and well worth checking out.

Ella Griffin – Postcards from the Heart
Fun, readable and moving chick-lit from a debut author. Really enjoyed this and looking forward to her next book in 2012.

Orla Tinsley – Salty Baby
I found this fascinating – a life of illness and campaigning but also much more generally about growing up in Ireland and having passions and interests and being stubborn. I know other people have noted this, but it would have been so easy to present a sanitised, polished, glossed-over life here. Instead it’s incredibly honest. Tinsley doesn’t always come across as the nicest, saintliest person, but it makes for a much more interesting read this way.


Cecelia Ahern – The Book of Tomorrow
The first Cecelia Ahern book I’d ever read – particularly drawn to this one as it has a pretty cover and is about a teenager rather than a proper grown-up. Tamara’s father has just died, and she and her mother move to the country to live with her aunt and uncle, near the ruins of a castle. The take on Celtic Tiger Dublin is really well handled – in some ways I’d have loved to see this as a realistic teen novel rather than chick-lit with a magical twist. Tamara finds a book, a diary, that reveals what’s going to happen the next day, but that device is less important than all the secrets lurking beneath the surface of the family and the castle. The ending felt like a little too much, pushing the bounds of plausibility even as far as the story’s world was concerned, but until then it was an interesting read.

Maria Duffy – Any Dream Will Do
Very cool to see Maria Duffy’s first book out so quickly! Jenny Breslin has Twitter friends on their way to stay with her – but she’s never met any of them in real life before and is a little concerned how things might go. Rightly so, as it turns out – they’ve all got secrets of their own, things they haven’t been 100% honest about on the internet. Fun, funny and fast-paced – a great holiday read.


Jennifer Weiner – Then Came You
The story of a surrogate pregnancy as told from the points of view of the rich mother, the egg donor, the surrogate, and the half-sister. There’s a rich backstory for everyone involved and it all comes together beautifully in the end. I’ve heard so many great things about Jennifer Weiner’s books – will definitely be reading more of them after this one.

Leigh Fallon – Carrier of the Mark
Paranormal romance centred about an American girl who comes to live in Ireland. Picked up mostly for the setting – there are a couple of nifty scenes in Trinity, especially.

Jeff Kinney – Diary of a Wimpy Kid #6: Cabin Fever
Funny as ever. It’s holiday season, and Greg’s looking for a way to make money. Disaster inevitably ensues.


Eagerly anticipating in 2012…

by clairehennessy

Dystopian universes that come in trilogies
Promised – Caragh O’Brien
Insurgent – Veronica Roth
Pandemonium – Lauren Oliver

Contemporary, insightful YA
The Fault In Our Stars – John Green
Getting Over Garrett Delaney – Abby McDonald
The List – Siobhan Vivian
The Story of Us – Deb Caletti
Gone, Gone, Gone – Hannah Moskowitz
The Look – Sophia Bennett

Contemporary, insightful YA with supernatural elements
Eighteen Kisses – Laura Jane Cassidy
Shine – Jeri Smith-Ready
Team Human – Sarah Rees Brennan & Justine Larbalestier

High fantasy/otherworldliness
Bitterblue – Kristin Cashore
The Treachery of Beautiful Things – Ruth Frances Long

Science fiction murder mystery (a short list)
A Million Suns – Beth Revis

Smart, funny chick-lit
Mercy Close – Marian Keyes
I’ve Got Your Number – Sophie Kinsella
The Shoestring Club – Sarah Webb
Nine Uses for an Ex-Boyfriend – Sarra Manning

And I’m sure my bank balance will not thank me for asking this, but… anything else I should definitely be biting my nails in anticipation for?


Author Appreciation Post: Paula Danziger

by clairehennessy

(And time now for another Author Appreciation session…)

One of my very favourite books of all time is called This Place Has No Atmosphere by Paula Danziger, an American children’s author who passed away a few years ago. Danziger wrote a whole lot of books, but this one is a particular favourite because it’s a teenage angst story that is set on the moon. Aurora and her sister Starr have to leave Earth when her parents – a doctor and a dentist – decide to join the team going to the small colony on the moon. At school, Aurora’s part of the popular, cool crowd – the Turnips – even though she feels like she doesn’t really fit in. On the moon, there’s hardly anyone her own age – and they are most definitely not the kind of people who’d fit in back home.

There are some parts that are silly. Like most of Danziger’s books there are a lot of puns. I mean, a lot. But there are also nifty predictions into the future, some of which still seem semi-plausible twenty-five years after the book was originally published. The portrayal of how kids and teenagers behave, even in this futuristic world, is completely spot-on. And it’s set on the moon! How cool is that?

Paula Danziger wrote other books that I’ve read over and over again. The Matthew Martin quartet is terrific, and The Cat Ate My Gymsuit – about an overweight girl who learns to stand up for herself when she gets a cool, untraditional (but also highly flawed) English teacher – taps into so many tropes that I adore. (Not to mention the fact that it has a sequel set in summer camp. Oh my.)

I still remember the rush of discovering that Danziger was friends with another childhood (and, well, adulthood) favourite of mine, Ann M Martin; when they collaborated on a book, P.S. Longer Letter Later, it was a happy day. (That book also has a sequel.)

I remember vividly parts of The Pistachio Prescription, in which Cassie deals with nerves by eating pistachios and becomes part of a campaign to shake up student government in her school. (And the eyebrows bit.) I remember Lauren and Zach from Can You Sue Your Parents for Malpractice?, and the big deal about a teenage girl dating a younger guy, and the difficulties with both her sisters, and the theme of injustice running throughout. Part of the reason I remember them is because I’ve reread them, of course. Like the very best childhood favourites, they hold up well.

The way in which Danziger takes her characters seriously – gives them dysfunctional families to cope with and never swoops in with an unrealistically happy ending – and how she manages to write compassionately about the injustices of the world, especially for young people, while still being very funny, is wonderful. The adults are marvellously flawed – I love reading about the parents who can’t manage their money, for example, and I still remember the way the Martins argue over which way the toilet roll hangs. It’s an imperfect, messy, complicated world (or moon) but ultimately a hopeful one. With puns. What more could you ask for?

“I made the choice long ago to write about real life. And life is both serious and funny.”
Paula Danziger on writing about serious issues


Book-post!

by clairehennessy

Jane Beaton – Rules
The sequel to Class sees Maggie in her second year at Downey House, again faced with a troublesome form and that terribly handsome English teacher over at the boys’ school who she’s thinking about far too often for a woman engaged to her childhood sweetheart. This year, there’s a new girl – the American Zelda, heavily, heavily inspired by Zerelda of Malory Towers fame. But this being Jane Beaton’s series, Zelda not only encourages the girls into American fashions and dieting crazes (which goes a little too far in Fliss’s case) but also into drinking Jack Daniels at a midnight feast. Oh, you have to love it. The balance between the modern/realistic and the old-fashioned/knowing-nods-to-boarding-school-stories continues. There is apparently a third book on the way (six in total have been planned, it being a school series and all that), so here’s hoping that emerges soon.

Cheryl Rainfield – Scars
A YA novel that’s tense, intense, and compelling. The narrator cuts herself to deal with the memories of abuse that have recently resurfaced. She can’t remember who her abuser is, but she knows one thing – he’s still out there. And after her. Through her counselling, her art, and a newfound relationship with a girl at school from a messed-up background, she starts to figure things out – but this puts her in danger. I guessed the reveal, as I suspect some readers might, but that doesn’t make it any less horrifying. It’s not a pleasant read, exactly, but it is a memorable one.

Megan McCafferty – Bumped
A dystopian comedy, if there can be such a thing, from the author of the Jessica Darling series. The story’s set 25 years from now, when a virus has spread across the world, making adults infertile and teens – and the babies they can produce – the hottest commodity around. The book takes a while to get into – there’s very little explanation of how things came to be the way they were, which has the effect of making it all very convincing but also fairly confusing for the first 50-80 pages or so. The teenage characters use slang and various abbreviations that are left for the reader to slowly figure out. It is worth getting into, though – it’s a very vivid take on a possible future society, with the zaniness of the Jessica Darling series amped up a little bit. Ends on a cliff-hanger, but a sequel, Thumped, is forthcoming in spring 2012.

Lauren Oliver – Liesl & Po
This is Lauren Oliver‘s first title for 8-12s, as opposed to YA, and well worth picking up. If I have one complaint it’s that so much of it has a quasi-Victorian-England feel to it, with references to various places in Europe making it seem like it’s that side of the Atlantic, but then it’s clearly set in a version of the States, with dollars and New York and waffle irons and such like popping up. It’d be nice to have a more definite sense of place – not necessarily one anchored in a real time/location, exactly, but possibly one slightly more distanced from it. The story is lovely, though – Liesl sees a ghost a few days after her father dies, and they set out on a quest to return his ashes to the place Liesl grew up. Unfortunately, the box gets mixed up with another – one carrying a magic so powerful that a number of unpleasant characters will do whatever they can to retrieve it. Even though there’s some familiar elements here, they’re arranged in an interesting pattern. I’m looking forward to seeing if she writes anything else for this age group, as well as eagerly anticipating her next dystopian YA, Pandemonium, out in the spring.


Author Appreciation Post: Marian Keyes

by clairehennessy

Hearing that Marian Keyes has a new novel out in 2012, and having been rereading several of her books for the past few weeks, I think it may be time for a Marian Appreciation Post.

I once heard someone – a very bright girl, PhD-at-Oxbridge type – talk about Marian Keyes’s books in a very general, dismissive way. They were about shoes and shopping apparently. “I just think they’re so dangerous,” she said, without a trace of irony, shaking her head.

Part of this is obviously a much broader disdain for ‘chick lit’. It is astonishing the number of people who will agree and nod when you talk about genre snobbery, defending all the great things about, say, fantasy, and then immediately turn into one of those genre snobs when they say, ‘but I mean obviously chick lit is different, it’s rubbish’. And. Oh, we could go on about this for hours, couldn’t we? Days. Years. Every few months I see something rehashing the same old arguments about why chick lit is rubbish and demeaning to women and superficial and blah blah blah, and then a flurry of writers and readers getting irritated by it, and defending the books with arguments that range from ‘yes, but it’s supposed to be fluffy’ to ‘no, it’s not fluffy, actually’.

Look. Do we count Marian Keyes as chick lit? Well, yeah. Yeah, we do. Unless we’re praising her so much that we say she’s too good for the chick lit label. Which happens. But she’s not. She’s the perfect example of why chick lit, like any genre, is at its best absolutely extraordinary – because it’s being damn good fiction as well as being damn good at its particular genre.

The reread began a few months back, with The Other Side of the Story. I wanted something about publishing and writing and being the other woman. We get strange cravings sometimes. Two things that always strike me about that book: how the styles of the three characters are so different, particularly Lily’s, and how gender-in-the-workplace politics play out. But the reread really began in earnest a few weeks ago. Lucy Sullivan is Getting Married. It had never been my favourite, but when I reread it I was struck by how sad it is. It has this silly, absurd premise – a girl going to a fortune teller and hearing she’s going to be married soon – and so much sadness and pain underneath. I was struck by how unusual it is to see a depressed female character who’s genuinely depressed, but living with it, and who finds love but is not fixed. And how hilarious it is, too. (And sexy! Oh, Daniel.)

It is so, so hard to write something that is both hysterically funny (not just sort-of wryly amusing) and achingly sad. It is so hard to write something that is whimsical and zany and still has characters that feel real.

I reread the Walsh family books after that. I’d read Rachel’s Holiday several times – it’s one of my favourite books of all time – but what I noticed on this intense reread was how similar (and excellent) they all are. How Irish. Because most of these women – Rachel, Maggie, Anna – cannot handle their disasters. They can’t talk about them. They want to pretend that they don’t exist. They want to shove things under the rug and hope they disappear.

And they’re funny. They’re all hysterically funny, even though they are all horribly sad at the same time — Claire’s realisation that her husband has been manipulating her, Rachel’s epiphany about being an addict, Maggie holding on to that teenage secret and pain, Anna’s grief. (Anybody Out There? is heartbreaking. I’d only read it once since it came out, except for rereading that one scene with Anna and Rachel, after she has the dream about Aidan – you’ll remember it if you’ve read it. It has zany elements – like Helen’s exploits as a private investigator – and it has glossy elements – like Anna’s job in make-up PR – but they don’t make it a ‘quick beach read’ so much as keep it from being completely bleak.) But they’re not ditzy. They’re not fluffy. Compulsively readable, yes, but not instantly forgettable.

(People sometimes compare books to food – this idea that chick lit is dessert and that we all like junk food and it doesn’t mean we won’t eat our broccoli. I don’t know. I think chick lit is more like pizza – you know, you can get the takeaway stuff or you can have a homemade, exquisitely crafted one. Like it’s food and it’s not so much that it’s bad for you so much as any food consumed all the time probably isn’t going to do you much good.)

Life is a very sad place sometimes. And dreadful things happen, and hard things happen. And some of these things happen to women, or are more likely to happen to women, or are experienced differently by women, and there is an awful lot of that in Keyes’s books. There’s domestic abuse. Being widowed. Being abandoned by the father of your child. Abortion. Infertility. Alcoholism. Rape. Caring for a parent when others in the family won’t step up. Being treated a certain way at work because of being female, or how you’re being female, or the way you look. And sometimes these are resolved in happier ways than they might tend to in real life, but more often than not they are hopeful without being saccharine – more about moving on than finding a magical fix-it.

These are books in which the things that happen to women matter, and are what the book focuses on. They’re books that are serious without being heavy-handed and solemn, and funny without being dismissive or trivial. It’s so hard to do, and anyone who’s ever rolled their eyes at a writer who can pull it off and say ‘oh, I could write one of those, if I wanted to’ is a fool. And anyone who thinks they’re somehow harmful… well. The world is a harmful place, but stories that acknowledge that, and are hopeful and funny despite it all, make it a little bit better, not worse.

“I want there to be more to my books than romance. I want there to be pain, and real issues to be faced.
I tried to walk a fine line between humour and telling quite a grim story. Because there is always humour. I’ve learned that myself.”
Marian Keyes, on writing ‘Lucy Sullivan is Getting Married’


Book-post!

by clairehennessy


Jane Beaton – Class
Described on the cover, by Sophie Kinsella, as “like Malory Towers for grown-ups”. Oh, indeed. This is a boarding school story which has everything you need in a boarding school story (false accusations of thievery! Practical jokes! A school play!), with an extra knowing nod towards issues around privilege, education, and bureaucracy. The story focuses on new English teacher, twenty-five-year-old Maggie, who’s come from a rough school in Glasgow and is delighted to be there, if worried about fitting in, but there’s also plenty of space devoted to the headmistress, with a dark secret of her own, and two of the girls, scholarship girl Simone and rebellious Fliss. Delightful balance between the modern setting and a voice that at times is marvellously Brazilish or Blytonesque. I am so pleased this book exists, and even more pleased there is a sequel.

Alice Hoffman – The Ice Queen
Surprisingly, I had never read any Alice Hoffman before this, but this seemed like a good place to start. A woman struck by lightning feels frozen inside, until she embarks on a relationship with a man who sets things on fire, another lightning survivor. It’s about fairytales and chaos theory and family and love, beautifully written.

Rob Thomas (ed.) – Neptune Noir
This is a Smart Pop book, a collection of essays on Veronica Mars, one of the sharpest teen TV shows ever to grace the small screen. The show ran for three seasons, but this only covers the first two – which is in some ways disappointing, as some of the essays touched on topics that came up again in Season 3.
As ever, the essays are a mixed bag – some terrific (there’s a wonderful one about the characterisation of Veronica and Logan as children of alcoholic parents), some good-but-not-great. There is an essay about cars which is enlightening but also, well, about cars. On the plus side, the collection was edited by the show’s creator, Rob Thomas, so there are nifty little behind-the-scenes details thrown in where appropriate, and it’s interesting to get his take on some of the essays, even when they focus on something he disagrees with (there’s a ‘Camp Noir’ essay which argues for seeing the show as a balance between, well, camp and noir – very interesting).


Maureen Johnson – Suite Scarlett
Quirky and sweet book about a family who run a boutique-and-in-trouble hotel in New York, particularly focused on fifteen-year-old Scarlett. Fans of Johnson will… already have read this and the sequel (Scarlett Fever), probably, but if they haven’t, they’ll like it.


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