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.

So, yes, obligatory YouTube video!

(I think ‘Defying Gravity’ is probably the most extraordinary one in terms of the set and special effects, but ‘For Good’ is just gorgeous.)

I also encountered The Tulip for the first time ever, which I was partly amazed and partly horrified by. It’s a wine glass shape, which is infinitely classier than normal plastic cups, and yes you can tell the difference, but it also has a yoghurt-style foil lid thing. Very odd experience, pulling such a thing off a surprisingly drinkable wine. The wonders of technology!

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.)

So, season 8 of Grey’s Anatomy (up to 8.09, anyway). I am still liking Meredith (yes, I like Meredith. Stop looking at me like that) and Arizona (so cute! So awesome!) and Owen (especially his struggles-with-being-chief). I am liking Richard in his new role an awful lot, and continue to think Callie is fabulous. I am not too impressed with Bailey and hoping someone tells her off soon and the show actually presents this as acceptable rather than crazy (I mean, between the not-so-amazing treatment of the men in her life plus the complete disrespect towards Owen as Chief… seriously).

And I am adoring April Kepner. So here are my five favourite April moments/plots:

1. The shooting episode OF DOOM in which there is apparently no hospital security whatsoever, and in which April’s snarky best friend has been already shot dead by the killer. April tells him everything about herself – makes him see her as a person. And he tells her to run.
2. Her crush on Derek Shepherd. She gets mocked for it, but given that he’s presented as this Amazing Guy and Neurosurgeon, it makes sense. And is sweet.
3. Her interactions with Dr Stark (aka Peter McNicol, who will forever be John Cage on Ally McBeal in my head). Tension, respect, sexual tension, friendship. Just a world of loveliness. I would have loved seeing more of this.



4. Her friendship with Jackson. Something I would love to see more of – particularly as they’re the only two Mercy West kids left – but it has its moments. Like after she and Alex have almost slept together (which I am sort-of rooting for, if it happens without yelling), and then he’s rotten to her, and Jackson has this protective-older-brother thing going on when she needs him. But he still won’t let her boss him around when she becomes Chief Resident.
5. Her being Chief Resident. This pleases me immensely. I love her checklist, and why she knows it’s important. I love her struggles to make people listen to her, and how she’s not a natural leader in some ways and yet has many of the organisational skills she needs for the job. And I nearly applauded when she just told Alex, Lexie and Jackson what to do after they’d been ignoring her all day: “Any of you argue with me and I’ll take you off the OR board. Indefinitely. I, on the other hand, just got fired from Bailey’s trial, so I’m going to spend the night drinking and flirting with boys.”

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).

- Queer As Folk, which I have been rewatching. The US version, not the UK (which, you know, I watched. And it’s okay, except I can’t take Stuart seriously as a Sex God because he’s that breed of Irishman that’s ten-a-penny. Whereas Brian Kinney is made of yum…). I’m loving it – it’s very soapy and ridiculous in parts, but also delightful and mightily pretty. (Ben is also delicious. And intellectual. Swoon.)

- Cougar Town, which I’ve just seen Season 2 of. Okay. So. Rubbish title (which they know, and mock), but from the guy who did Scrubs, and featuring appearances from several familiar faces. Basically, imagine Scrubs if they weren’t doctors, but instead… living in a cul-de-sac in Florida. And kinda dumb. But lovable. And drinking a lot of wine. (Oh, Big Carl!) Favourite characters include, well, all of them, but I have a soft spot for Travis (aka Brandon from Easy A) and Laurie (aka Audrey from Dawson’s Creek). And of course Ellie (aka Jordan from Scrubs). I tip my hat to her.

- House. Because. Um. Hugh Laurie. Those eyes. The snark. The sense of despair at the universe and lack of faith in humanity… yeah. Good times.

You’ve got to know your limits.

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.

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!

–> Really interesting piece about Nora Roberts, her writing, and romance fiction. I have not read a huge amount of Nora Roberts, but I like what I have read, and I really like her approach to writing – so disciplined.

“…women aren’t supposed to have expectations, right? We’re pretty smart. I think we know the difference between reality and fiction.”

–> A nifty post on the benefits of writing part-time.

–> YA author Beth Revis talks about writing bravely.

–> Sarah Webb writes about the move towards publishers focusing only on bestsellers and the problems with this. Very much worth reading.