from graphic novel guest blogger, Francisca Goldsmith:

The Empathy Muscle

Vance and Berger practice storytelling and visual art in a manner that brings immediacy to history and universality to distinctly detailed fictional characters. The influences of politics, economics and individual chance all have as much bearing on what we can and do make of ourselves as do our ambitions. Charles Dickens was the master of depicting this so that readers could experience empathy with the downtrodden, see behind their own prejudices about their social “betters” and come face to face with questions about how they themselves might have responded in situations such as those surrounding the hero Oliver Twist or such important, yet minor, characters as Miss Havisham. In Fred/Jim, we have not an Oliver Twist but a character as strong and as accessible, just as Gordon, Betty, and the others in Fred’s life have their own lives as well as influences on his.

American history curricula at the secondary school level rarely delve into the power politics of strikes and the criminal elements engaged in union busting during the Great Depression. Yet, teen readers will find that aspect of the action here as fascinating as the guaranteed gangster-thrills provided by the worst of the bad men, the empathy-leached Bill Sykeses who lurk in dark alleys and murder such semi-innocents as Fred’s girl friend. That Fred receives an education–clearly more that than indoctrination as political critics so often reduce it–in the theories of communism makes good sense in circumstances where we see the poverty of the period so vividly, but also have come to understand that our hero’s brain thirsts for theory to explain reality. That it is the Communists who provide for his prosthetic leg is perhaps heavy handed symbolism for sophisticated readers with a thorough understanding of political history, but teens may find this a perfect opportunity to experience the power of storytelling’s props to both carry the narrative and expose aspects of its underpinnngs.

Gordon’s story within the story is gracefully enclosed, an echoing demand that reader empathy replace the original antipathy his character rouses in both Fred and the reader. Like Dickens’ Fagin, rather than the flat evil Bill, his twisted personality is shown to be the result of efforts to cope with life’s imperfectly dealt hand.

What would I do? That is the question that provokes reader growth. Vance and Berger create a story so artful that the question refuses to fade long after Fred–and Gordon–have had their stories shown.

VANCE, James. On the Ropes. illus. by Dan E. Burr. 247p. Norton. Mar. 2013. Tr $24.95. ISBN 978-0-393-06220-5. LC 2012037353.  

Adult/High School–Returning to expand on their excellent Kings in Disguise (Norton, 1988), Vance and Burr have created a meaty graphic novel that weaves adventure, politics, noir crime, and the Great Depression into a seamless and fully engaging whole. Teenaged Fred Bloch has taken to the road, more to fill his belly and active mind than to escape his youth. After adventuring as a hobo–and losing a part of his leg in a train accident–he is taken in and given both prosthetic medical care and an education by members of a Communist Party cell. Then, it’s off to join the circus, where Fred assists a bitter and alcoholic “magician” whose shtick is escaping a hangman’s noose and gibbet before cheering crowds. Both Fred and Gordon, the escapist, believe that they are keeping their personal secrets from each other. Fred’s includes his work for the Party, which entails regular instructions mailed to towns the circus will visit, addressing him as Jim Nolan. Union busters are hard on the mysterious Jim’s trail, and Fred himself longs for a life that allows him to follow his nascent writing career. Period style black-and-white comics tell important aspects of this story and its varied cast of characters. The era’s workers’ rights struggles, complicated as they were by party politics and gangsterism, spring to life as the story unfolds, but the evolution of Fred from hopeful boy to wiser young man satisfyingly remains at center stage.–Francisca Goldsmith, Infopeople Project, CA 

Angela and I were talking last week about what a great year this is shaping up to be for adult books with teen appeal–we have a backlog of great books that we still want to review, and another list of books that we had to give up on getting to because too much time has passed since they came out (has anyone out there read Paula Varsavsky’s No One Said a Word or Jane Porter’s The Good Daughter?).  I have no doubt that some of this bounty is because there are two sets of eyes looking for books this year, when last year it was just Angela.  But it certainly seems to be more than just that–and I don’t at all envy the Alex Committee who is trying to read through all the great contenders this year.

With that in mind, nothing in particular ties together the five books reviewed below, except that they were published in January and February and we want to get the word out on them.

The big name here is Sister Souljah–whose books have been hugely popular with teens for almost fifteen years–but no less impressive are a trio of crime novels (two debuts), and an unclassifiable SF/Horror/Fantasy/Something.

Jamie Mason, Holly Goddard Jones, and Timothy Hallinan each take a unique angle at the crime novel.  For Mason, the crime genre trappings of  Three Graves Full bely the beauty of her prose and her deeply weird sense of humor.  Jones’s The Next Time You See Me, meanwhile, revels in its unreliable narration, not a frequent feature of your average procedural.  And as I say in my review, Timothy Hallinan has almost too much fun turning noir inside out in his Junior Bender series.  Little Elvises is the second in the series, but stands alone admirably, and is the best of the three published so far.

Finally, we have Robert Jackson Bennett’s American Elsewhere. Bennett has a heap of awards for his speculative fiction, and some have described this novel as horror–indeed, early on, I was making comparisons with Stephen King’s The Tommyknockers–but really, as I say below, this novel defies categorization of any kind. 

JONES, Holly Goddard. The Next Time You See Me. 384p. Touchstone: S.& S. Feb. 2013. Tr $24.99. ISBN 9781451683363.

Adult/High School–Thirteen-year-old Emily is an odd girl. She seems to have no instinct for social survival in eighth grade, where classmates circle like hungry sharks. When she discovers a decomposing body in the woods, she tells no one. Rather, she begins stopping in the woods on her way home from school to visit it.  Emily’s teacher, Susanna Mitchell, is unhappy in her marriage and preoccupied with problems of her own. It seems the final straw when her husband shows little concern over the disappearance of her  sister, Ronnie, a notorious bad girl around town. Meanwhile, a middle-aged factory worker, Wyatt, is conned by some younger coworkers to drink himself senseless and then leave him with the tab. This is how Wyatt becomes the last person to see Ronnie before her disappearance. The narration skips among these characters and more, as the mystery of the body in the woods and Ronnie’s disappearance tumbles towards an obvious conclusion. Nothing beyond that is obvious in this novel, however. Readers must decipher where the truth lies in the confluence of all these points of view. Someone here is not who they appear to be… but who is it? The blend of foreboding mood and psychological tension is similar to that in some of Stephen King’s or Tana French’s novels. An excellent example of unreliable narration.–Diane Colson, formerly at Palm Harbor Library, FL

MASON, Jamie. Three Graves Full. 320p. Gallery: S & S. Feb. 2013. Tr $24.99. ISBN 9781451685039.

Adult/High School–Mason’s strangely powerful debut begins with an elaborate, macabre joke: Jason is so skittish of the overgrown yard where he has buried a body that he hires a gardener to assuage the imagined suspicions of his neighbors; in due course, the gardener discovers a corpse, leading directly to the discovery of a second corpse, but neither one is the body of the man Jason has killed. As Mason follows the murder investigation, headed by detectives Tim Bayard and Ford Watts, with generous diversions examining the events leading up to each murder, she manages to maintain this precarious balance between the psychological realism of her characters and the barely contained ridiculousness of the situations with wit and verve. At times the plot–which veers between the stories of Jason; Leah, the wife of one of the dead men; Boyd Montgomery, the second murderer; and the two detectives–threatens to run off the road, but Mason holds it steady with her fabulous prose–highlighted by a tremendous facility for fresh metaphors, often based in the natural world–and her carefully detailed characterizations. The dark humor and aura of surreality won’t appeal to everyone, but readers in sync with the novel’s tone will be clamoring for more from Mason.–Mark Flowers, John F. Kennedy Library, Vallejo, CA

BENNETT, Robert Jackson. American Elsewhere. 680p. Orbit: Hachette. Feb. 2013. pap. $13.99. ISBN 9780316200202.

Adult/High School–There is something deeply wrong with the town of Wink, NM. When former police detective Mona Bright inherits a house that her mother once owned, she feels compelled to see the home of her long-dead mother, but the town fails to appear on any map of the area. Once she has finally located it, she immediately senses something strange about the townspeople–houses and lawns too perfect, people somewhat off, like something out of The Stepford Wives. Then there is the strange, noiseless blue lightning, the perpetually pink moon, and the fact that locals never leave their houses at night. And what about the fact that the laws of space and time seem to work just a little differently here? Mona begins to believe the strangeness has something to do with the deserted government research lab where her mother once worked, but as the novel proceeds, it becomes clear that the lab’s science is just one small piece of a pandimensional mystery. The novel’s movement from the simple human oddity of the early chapters, to the science of the mid-novel, to the much larger, world-shattering revelations of the conclusion recalls TV’s Lost, but Bennett handles the ratcheting movement of his novel with far more deftness and coherence than that show ever managed. Horror? Science Fiction? Fantasy? Mystery? Family drama? Readers may not know what genre they’re reading until the very end, but anyone with a taste for the strange and creepy should enjoy every moment.–Mark Flowers, John F. Kennedy Library, Vallejo, CA

SOULJAH, Sister. A Deeper Love Inside: The Porsche Santiaga Story. 1. 432p. Atria. 2013. Tr $26.99. ISBN 9781439165317.

Adult/High School–Sister Souljah’s The Coldest Winter Ever (Pocket, 1999) is arguably one of the best books of life on the streets; the voice of its protagonist, Winter, is flawless. This stand-alone sequel doesn’t come close. On the upside, readers find out what happened after the drug bust that destroyed life as Winter and her family knew it. Porsche, Winter’s younger sister, escapes from juvie with the help of  Riot and her brother, Revolution. She reunites with her momma–who is now a crack addict–and she falls in love. On the downside, the plot is inauthentic and slow, predominantly narration rather than action. As a result, there is little opportunity to form an emotional connection to the characters. Porsche, who is anywhere from 8 to 16 though the book, sounds as if she were 30 with a few exceptions. She seems to have multiple personalities, but readers may be challenged in figuring that out. The metaphorical promise of Riot and Revolution’s names does not materialize. It’s a grim reality that close to 95% of girls living on the streets are sexually assaulted, yet Porsche escapes that fate, unrealistically amassing $50k by the time she is 14 by working at odd jobs, never being questioned by authorities or other adults. In the end, Porsche is married with two babies, happily cooking organic foods and loving her 18-year-old husband. In spite of its lack of realism and disjointedness, fans of all ages have been waiting for this book and they will ask for it.–Amy Cheney, Alameda County Library, Juvenile Hall, CA

HALLINAN, Timothy. Little Elvises. 352p. bibliog. Soho Crime. 2013. Tr $25. ISBN 9781616952778.

Adult/High School–In Hallinan’s second “Junior Bender” mystery, Junior is reluctantly drawn into solving two mysteries. The first is thrust upon him by a cop whose uncle is suspected of murder.  It seems that the uncle, Vinnie, was a famous music svengali in the ’50s and ’60s, churning out dozens of “rock” records by squeaky clean, good looking boys–“Little Elvises.” Now, a tabloid reporter has been found dead on the Hollywood Walk of Fame star of one of Vinnie’s singers, and Junior has to find the real killer before Vinnie is arrested. Meanwhile, the owner of the garish, Christmas-themed motel where Junior is staying begs him to find her grown daughter who was last seen living with a very shifty character.  Hallinan’s sly take on the hard-boiled genre is fresh, lively, and very funny, often involving a flip in its polarities: instead of an anti-hero detective who is willing to break the rules, Junior is an genuine burglar who is willing to solve some crimes; there may be some femme fatales, but they tend to be somewhat less than fatal; and nothing is quite hard-boiled enough that Junior can’t stop in to check on his 13-year-old daughter, whose cheeky presence is a joy. Readers need no background knowledge of the ’50s music scene–although they may miss one or two jokes–or detective fiction, but teens out there with knowledge of both will find this novel especially rewarding.–Mark Flowers, John F. Kennedy Library, Vallejo, CA

Some books receive more “buzz” than others in the lead-up to publication. Today we review three books that have received more than their fair share.

First, our starred review of the day – The Interestings by Meg Wolitzer. Wolitzer’s fiction is always excellent and often provocative. Everyone, from the New York Times to EW and People, is wild for this one, calling it her break-out book. Comparisons to Jonathan Letham and Jeffrey Eugenides abound. This is about a group of friends and what becomes of them, and it all begins at an arts camp for teens. Wolitzer herself had a similar experience, which she describes in an interview with Jane Ciabattari on The Daily Beast, “Like my main character Jules in my novel, I’d grown up in the suburbs. Unlike her, my mother was a writer, so I came from a house filled with good books. And my parents had always taken us into the city to MOMA and to see what were known as “arthouse” movies. But you probably can’t do all that with your parents and have it change your life; you have to do it on your own. It wasn’t until I could go off and enter that world by myself that I came to really love it and feel excited by it. My closest friend, to this day, is someone I met that summer.”

That idea of having to be on your own to experience major change as an adolescent is such a good one. Wolitzer also tackles the idea of comparing oneself to others and the envy that can result, even in comparison to a close friend. Teens are certainly susceptible to that feeling.

You is the second novel by Austin Grossman, whose 2007 debut, Soon I Will Be Invincible, is a terrific riff on superheros and villains. Grossman is a videogame designer, and his experience shows in You. Teen gamers will relish the insider look at game development and design. No, this is not at all like Ready Player One. No dystopian future here. This is the story of a guy who needs a job, and goes back to a group of high school friends made good to get one. Like The Interestings, this is an examination of friendships, especially those that begin during adolescence (during summer computer camp!) and continue into adulthood.

Amity & Sorrow is a whole ‘nother story. Peggy Riley‘s debut follows a mother and her two daughters as they flee a polygamist cult and end up on a farm in the Midwest. Everything is new. Neither of the teenagers has been taught to read, has heard of such a thing as a library, or even seen a town. Putting the two sisters at odds with each other (one relishes their new life, the other longs to return to her father) was a genius move, creating conflict even after escape has been achieved. There is an excellent interview with the author in the Los Angeles Times.

* WOLITZER, Meg. The Interestings. 464p. Riverhead. Apr. 2013. Tr $27.95. ISBN 9781594488399.  

Adult/High School–One summer in the early 1970s five teenagers–Ash, Goodman, Jonah, Ethan, and Jules–meet at a summer camp for artistic kids, and form a bond that affects the rest of their lives. The story follows them well into adulthood, where it sometimes seems that they are all still teenagers inside. Although some readers might not be especially interested in middle-aged adults, by the time they get to that part of the book, they will be attached to the characters and invested in their lives. More importantly, Wolitzer explores personal questions that should resonate with many teens: those who wonder if their friendships will last and how they will play out; or simply wonder how they will turn out–if they’ll find love, success, or a valid career in the arts. And what happens when expectations and dreams aren’t met or are derailed? The author also explores the big question of what happens when your life turns out very differently from your friends’ lives. As an adult, Jules observes that if the group were to meet now, they wouldn’t be friends, but because they became friends as teenagers they have an unbreakable bond. This is an undeniably appealing premise and one that is sure to attract many readers.–Sarah Debraski, formerly of Somerset County Library System

GROSSMAN, Austin.  You. 320p. Little, Brown/Mullholland. Apr. 2013. Tr $25.99. ISBN 9780316198530; ebook ISBN 9780316198554.  

Adult/High School–“So what’s your ultimate game?” So begins Grossman’s ode to great video games that provide an escape from the fear and uncertainty of young adulthood. In a job interview, Russell is asked to create his ultimate game on-the-fly in order to land a job at the innovative and exciting gaming company Black Arts. It is also his chance to re-join his high school friends and the founders of Black Arts: Darren, Simon, and Lisa. After years of wandering through college and graduate programs, he’s beginning to think he should have never ditched them at the end of high school. Russell is hired as Black Arts is feverishly releasing the next version of its award-winning Realms series, a game with a terrible secret hidden in its code. Russell’s story unfolds in flashbacks to high school, learning how to program with his friends and attending computer camp together, where the seeds of Realms were sown. While he plays through the Realms catalogue, trying to find the bug that threatens the future of both the company and Russell’s first shot at a career he loves, he examines his friendships with the company’s founders, especially the mysteriously deceased Simon, and sees parallels of both his life and the lives of his friends in the battles and dark bargains in the games. Grossman is not afraid to experiment with almost hallucinatory passages of video game play, and readers who feel equally passionate about how games can transport players and make real life bearable will be up for the challenge of You.–Meghan Cirrito, formerly of Queens Library, NY

RILEY, Peggy. Amity & Sorrow. 320p. Little, Brown. Apr. 2013. Tr $25.99. ISBN 9780316220880.  

Adult/High School–Amity and Sorrow, now almost teens, have grown up on an Idaho compound and never been anywhere or known anything else. They have 50 mothers and their father is considered God to the cult. Amaranth–their birth mother–is the first wife. It is a shock, then, when a fire (the end of the world?) breaks out and their mother gets them in the car and drives off the property. Days later, when she crashes the car in rural Oklahoma near Bradley’s farm and gas station, there is nothing to do but sleep on Bradley’s porch. The story is really Amaranth’s; it’s told through her eyes and experience, but Sorrow’s story is the one that will haunt readers. Beautifully written at a slow, nuanced pace, the novel gradually reveals spare details of their life, past and present. Their isolation, their conflicts with their new situation are completely believable. Sorrow has the most difficult time. She wants to go back. She belongs with her father; she was his Oracle. She continues to “read” and even create signs, and there is no changing how she sees the world and her place in it. Amity sways between protecting her sister and the excitement of her new situation. Teens on a roll with Emma Donoghue’s Room (Little, Brown, 2012), Shelley Hrdlitschka’s Sister Wife (Orca, 2008), and Michele Dominguez Greene’s Keep Sweet (Simon Pulse, 2011) will want to read this book.–Amy Cheney, Alameda County Library, Juvenile Hall, CA

Today we’re pleased to have a guest post from one of our regular reviewers Laura Pearle, who is here to discuss Camilla Läckberg’s fantastic series of mysteries.  Take it away Laura:

Readers of mysteries know that small towns are deceptive – they’re not the safe places they should be.  Just look at St. Mary’s Mead and Cabot Cove, with murder rates that rival New York City’s.  And those friendly neighbors? You never know what deep dark secrets the new people-next-door are hiding, let alone the sweet old lady down the street who has lived there for decades.  Camilla Läckberg’s Fjällbacka is yet another of those picturesque former fishing villages-turned-tourist destinations that on the surface looks nice but behind closed doors…

In the series opener, Ice Princess (Pegasus, 2010) Erica’s childhood best friend Alexandra is found, wrists slit, frozen beneath the ice in the bathtub of her childhood home.  Inadvertently drawn into the investigation, she begins to search for the truth behind Alex’s life and in the process reconnects with Patrik Hedström, the local policeman who was one of their classmates (and who just happened to have a major crush on Erica).  Over the course of the investigation, they begin a relationship that grows over the course of the series.  The second book, The Preacher (Pegasus, 2011) brings us yet another strange death: a German tourist is found dead, in a grave she shares with the skeletons of two girls who have been missing for decades.  By The Stonecutter (Pegasus, 2012), Läckberg has settled into a pattern: initial murder, followed by several seemingly unrelated murders interspersed with the backstory of both the (as yet unknown) murderer and victims.  Patrik leads the investigation with the help of some of his colleagues and the hindrance of others, including his humorously inept captain.  At home, Erica moves from being his girlfriend to his wife and they have a child (not necessarily in that order).

And now comes the newest entry into the series, The Stranger:

LÄCKBERG, Camilla. The Stranger. tr. from Swedish by Stephen T. Murray. 4. 384p. (Patrik Hedström Series). Pegasus Crime. May 2013. Tr $25.95. ISBN 9781605984254.

Adult/High School–The town of Fjällbacka has been invaded by a reality show, Sodding Fjällbacka–a version of The Real World populated by celebrities from other reality shows. One “character,” Barbie, is at the center of a rather violent argument between the roommates and then goes missing, only to reappear as a murder victim. Will the show continue shooting? Of course! Murder makes for good ratings, after all. Patrik, longtime colleague Martin, and his new colleague Hanna try to figure out who killed Barbie and, more importantly, why. This investigation overshadows the death of a teetotaler who was in a car crash and somehow had a blood alcohol level that was many times over the legal limit. Soon it becomes clear that the two deaths are related to each other and to several other mysterious deaths around Sweden. Läckberg’s is able to keep clues to the mystery hidden rather than telegraphed. And as always, the side plots of the machinations within the police department and at home with Patrik’s wife, Erica, and her family are included, lowering the tension of the growing body count. This series is being touted as an example of Swedish noir, but the addition of the less serious characters puts it into a lighter category. This is perfect for mystery readers who want a different type of police procedural or are looking for a bridge between lighter mysteries and the darkness of Jo Nesbø and Stieg Larsson.–Laura Pearle, Center for Fiction, New York City

We write a lot about genre and the types of books that teens enjoy reading. But what about setting? Do teen readers care about sinking into the setting of a book?

This is an element that teens rarely mention when they share what they enjoy reading, or how much they liked a particular book. But many teens like to explore far-away parts of the world with which they are unfamiliar. In The Fever Tree, a romantic saga of a novel, Jennifer McVeigh introduces readers to colonial South Africa.

Other teens want to immerse themselves in a particular place during a certain time period. World War II occupied Paris is certainly a fascinating setting, and one used by many and varied authors. All the Light There Was provides a new slant. Like Orringer did for the Hungarian experience in The Invisible Bridge, Kricorian represents the Armenian experience. Her special interest is in the daily life of her characters — see her website for more about her inspiration. All the Light There Was is also a romance, and the first person narrative makes it fresh and exciting.

In The Fate of Mercy Alban, the house in which much of the novel takes place is a character in itself. Alban House is more like a mansion, and although the book’s cover brings to mind an English country estate, this one is on the shores of Lake Superior. Wendy Webb’s latest spooky gothic mystery of family secrets was inspired by a visit to a specific place.

MCVEIGH, Jennifer. The Fever Tree. 432p. Amy Einhorn: Putnam. Apr. 2013. Tr $25.95. ISBN 9780399158247.

Adult/High School–The Fever Tree starts with a trope of historical romance: a respectable young woman of considerable wealth and a bright future is plunged into destitution with a father’s bad investments and unexpected death. Frances Irvine is faced with two equally undesirable prospects: be nursemaid to her aunt’s young children or marry an awkward doctor and move to South Africa. With her choice made, she leaves England behind, and her adventure begins. Soon, a love triangle emerges as Frances must choose between the dashing rebel of questionable morals and the obsessed, goody-two-shoes doctor: the age-old Darcy versus Willoughby played out in the dusty plains of Africa. The novel moves beyond its genre trappings with its palpable setting and sure characters. McVeigh has penned a story where the place, in this case South Africa, is a central character. At the same time the characters evolve from their clichéd introductions. Teens will experience both exasperation and empathy toward Frances. The novel underscores, as historical novels often do, the limited choices available to women, and elements about African colonization, the ethics surrounding diamond mining and trading, as well as a small-pox outbreak provide further depth to this coming-of-age tale. The romance propels the story, but it is an old-fashioned saga at heart. Readers watch Frances grow up, hoping she will make decisions that lead to her own happiness.–Karen Keys, Queens Library, Jamaica, NY

KRICORIAN, Nancy. All the Light There Was. 288p. Houghton Harcourt. Mar. 2013. Hardcover $24. ISBN 9780547939940.  

Adult/High School–For Maral and her older brother, Missak, Paris is home; they know little of the terrors their parents endured when they were forced to leave their homeland of Armenia.  Fourteen year-old Maral is nearly top in her class. Her secret love is Missak’s best friend, Zaven, and she is thrilled to discover that Zaven also has feelings for her, but this happy first love is tarnished when the German army marches into Paris. At first, a resistance activity such as distributing pamphlets seems a lark, a secret outing to hide from the parents. But as Jewish friends disappear, and young activists are arrested and sent to work camps, the sense of foreboding increases. Zaven and Maral pledge themselves to each other even as they fear their romance may have no future. Indeed, the war lasts much longer and is far more ruthless than their young minds could have anticipated. Maral, who narrates the story, never sees a battlefield, but her life is completely fractured by the war: some of her friends die, while others return broken. Readers should be intrigued by the many teen characters, striving to be as brave and dutiful as circumstances demand. Like the teen characters in Elizabeth Wein’s Code Name Verity (Hyperion, 2012) or Chris Bohjalian’s Skeletons at the Feast (Shaye Areheart, 2008), dreams of high school proms are pushed aside by the will to survive.–Diane Colson, formerly at Palm Harbor Library, FL

WEBB, Wendy. The Fate of Mercy Alban. 344p. Hyperion. 2013. pap. $15.99. ISBN 978-1-4013-4193-0. LC 2012027376.

Adult/High School–Even for a rich family, the Albans of Minnesota are a bit different–their mansion is made from imported Irish stone; there are altogether too many deaths for there not to be a family curse; and the women are all named after some attribute (Grace, Amity, Charity, Fate). Twenty years ago, Grace left town, escaping not only her family, but the repercussions of surviving a storm that led to her brothers’ drownings and father’s suicide. When her mother dies, Grace returns for the funeral, bringing her daughter Amity with her. While looking through her mother’s room she finds letters from David Colville, a reporter who committed suicide on the grounds of Alban House in the summer of 1956, just before Aunt Fate disappeared–one of which discusses a novel based on the history of the Albans. Then at the funeral reception who should appear but Aunt Fate. Where has she been? In Switzerland, in a private “institution” named Mercy House, which is actually a home for the criminally insane. Indeed, Aunt Fate is really Aunt Mercy, Fate’s supposedly dead twin, and she’s not just insane, she’s psychotic, locking Grace (and hunky Reverend Matthew Parker) in the church vault when they find the missing Colville manuscript. Gothic novels rarely have happy endings, but they do have satisfying ones and The Fate of Mercy Alban definitely satisfies. This novel is for fans of Victoria Holt, Daphne Du Maurier (think Jamaica Inn not Rebecca), and a good introduction to adult gothic for fans of Joan Aiken and Billingsley’s Chime (Dial, 2011).–Laura Pearle, Center for Fiction, New York City

A possibly insane man who was acquitted of murdering his wife’s lover because the jury found it to be justifiable homicide, and then went on to play one of the most crucial roles in the early development of motion pictures.  A teenage assassin who has been blamed (both then and now) for igniting the precipitating event of the Holocaust.  A boy who discovers that his father is a spy.  A cargo plane, a B-17 bomber, and a Coast Guard plane all crash in Greenland trying to save one another; and the crew of the B-17 manages to survive five months stranded in Greenland.  Today, we look at four nonfiction books that describe events we might have a hard time believing if they showed up in a novel.

Edward Ball’s The Inventor and the Tycoon looks at one of the most unbelievable figures in American History: Eadweard Muybridge (my favorite of his various respellings of his name).  Muybridge was hurled from a crashing stagecoach and suffered a severe head injury, which may have led to permanent brain damage–and was certainly used as proof of his insanity in his trial over the murder of his wife’s lover.  He went on to become a photographer, and after settling a bet made by the famous railroad tycoon (and University founder) Leland Stanford as to whether all four of a horse’s legs leave the ground when it runs, he became obsessed with high speed photography, and eventually setting his rapid shots in motion, thus paving the way for later innovations in movies.

Herschel Grynszpan, on the other hand, was by all accounts a very ordinary young man.  A young Pole, sent to Paris to avoid the Nazis, for some reason he took it into his head to assassinate a minor Nazi diplomat at the German Embassy, and the world has been fighting over the meaning of his actions ever since.  The Nazis immediately seized on his actions as an excuse for Kristallnacht, and many writers since have heaped the blame on him.  In the new book The Short, Strange Life of Herschel Grynszpan, Jonathan Kirsch ably disproves the Kristallnacht theory (the Nazis had been planning something like it long before Grynszpan’s actions), and lays out his own theory of Grynszpan as a futile, but admirable Jewish Resistor–someone who belongs with the heroes of Doreen Rappaport’s Beyond Courage.

Next we have the first of two starred reviews for today: Mitchell Zuckoff’s Frozen in Time.  Zuckoff tells the story of the almost ridiculous set of plane crashes described above, and the heroic efforts by everyone involved to save as many of the stranded men as possible.  Meanwhile, he weaves in the story of his own involvement in a search for the remains of the Coast Guard plane.

And finally, we have a second starred review: Scott Johnson’s The Wolf and the Watchman, a memoir of a boy who discovered that his father was a CIA agent.  Though there’s plenty of covert action and espionage in this fabulous book, the real heft of it is in Johnson’s moving account of his relationship with his father and how the secrets of the CIA affected that relationship.

Together these four books offer more proof than anyone needs as to the potency and appeal of nonfiction, especially narrative nonfiction: four stories which are practically unknown, and yet are more exciting than all but the very best fictional stories out there.

BALL, Edward. The Inventor and the Tycoon: A Gilded Age Murder and the Birth of Moving Pictures. 464p. bibliog. index. photogs. Doubleday. Jan. 2013. Tr $29.95. ISBN 9780385525756.

Adult/High School–Ball takes a look at two very different men whose paths crossed in the late 19th century. The tycoon of the title is Leland Stanford: grocer, railroad magnate, Governor of California, U.S. Senator, founder of Stanford University. The inventor is Edward Muybridge, an inventor, a bookseller, photographer, adventurer, self-promoter, and murderer. The author weaves their stories together, moving back and forth through time and around the world. Muybridge (born Muggeridge, but fond of changing his name as he changed jobs or locations) is best known as a photographer–he took some of the earliest and most daring photographs of Yosemite–and when he met up with Stanford, he photographed Stanford’s horses in an attempt to prove that “during a gallop, horses at some point in their stride lift all four hooves off the ground.” As he refined his approach, he used multiple cameras to catch ever-smaller increments of movement and invented a device to project the results onto a screen for viewers to watch. Ball brings to life the two men, each eccentric in his own way. The murder is a fascinating sidelight–Muybridge killed his wife’s lover but was acquitted on the grounds of justifiable homicide–that gives some insight into the rough-and-tumble California life of the 1870s. Teens with an interest in history, photography, or film will be fascinated by this exploration into the relationship of money, patronage, and publicity to the creation of art.–Sarah Flowers, formerly of Santa Clara County Library, CA

KIRSCH, Jonathan. The Short, Strange Life of Herschel Grynszpan. 352p. bibliog. chron. index. notes. Liveright Publishing. May. 2013. Tr $27.95. ISBN 9780871404527.

Adult/High School–On November 7, 1938,  a 17-year-old Polish Jew named Herschel Grynszpan entered the German Embassy in Paris and shot and killed a low-level diplomat named Ernst vom Rath. Within days, in an incredibly convoluted knot of conspiracy and counter-conspiracy theories, Grynszpan’s act was variously portrayed as the heroic action of a lone Jew outraged at Nazi atrocities; a crime of passion wrought of a failed homosexual affair; a set-up by the Nazis who supposedly wished to do away with a less-than-enthusiastic party member; and, most ominously of all, proof of the Nazi’s belief in the “International Jewish Conspiracy” and an excuse for the notorious events of Kristallnacht two days later.  Kirsch deftly cuts through these layers of interpretation to provide readers with an account of Grynszpan’s brief life–first in Hanover, then in Paris–his incarcerations in Paris and Berlin, and the vast array of meanings with which his life has been invested.  In the process, the author offers a unique perspective on the crucial period between the Nazi Party’s rise to power in 1933 and its decision to introduce the Final Solution sometime in 1941. Ultimately, Kirsch argues that Grynszpan should be seen as a tragically unsung hero of the Jewish resistance. Whether readers agree with Kirsch or not, the questions raised make this book essential reading for lovers of history, and the figure of the misunderstood adolescent hero should resonate with teens.–Mark Flowers, John F. Kennedy Library, Vallejo, CA

* ZUCKOFF, Mitchell. Frozen in Time: An Epic Story of Survival and a Modern Quest for Lost Heroes of World War II. 400p. bibliog. illus. index. notes. Harper. May. 2013. Tr $28.99. ISBN 9780062133434.

Adult/High School–This gripping page-turner tells two stories, one historical and one modern. In the historical part, three military planes went down on the Greenland icecap in late 1942. The first was a cargo plane, the second a B-17 bomber that was searching for the first, and the third a Coast Guard amphibious plane that was attempting to rescue the B-17’s crew. Greenland can be harsh and unforgiving, especially during the winter months and Zuckoff details how the B-17’s crew survived for nearly five months, and how seven of the nine airmen eventually made it home. Their survival was due in part to their own determination and ingenuity, but also to the perseverance of the Coast Guard, who never gave up on them. The modern story is about a group, including Zuckoff, who made an expedition to Greenland in the summer of 2012 in an attempt to find the Coast Guard plane and its long-dead crew. This is a fine example of narrative nonfiction, as Zuckoff moves the events of both stories forward while focusing on the people involved. Teens who like survival and adventure stories, such as Jon Krakauer’s Into Thin Air (1997) and Into the Wild (1996, both Villard) will be quickly drawn into the tale of these young airmen–mostly in their early 20s–who went through unimaginable physical and emotional trials. At the same time, they will be fascinated by what is essentially a modern-day treasure hunt, conducted not only with elaborate imaging technology but also with good old-fashioned research, guesswork, and luck.–Sarah Flowers, formerly of Santa Clara County Library, CA

* JOHNSON, Scott. The Wolf and the Watchman: A Father, a Son, and the CIA. 320p. Norton. May. 2013. Tr $26.95. ISBN 978-0-393-23980-5.

Adult/High School–Johnson was a preteen before he saw that his father had two driver’s licenses with different names and different pictures, but things had always been a little strange in his upbringing as they circled the globe after his depressed mother left. Johnson adored and idolized his father, but by the time he was an adult and knew at least an outline of the truth, that his father was a spy, he had begun to question what all the lies and secrets really hid, and what the lasting effect had been on him and his relationships generally, and with his father, specifically. This book is not the expected thriller about the clandestine operations of the CIA, about murder and intrigue, war and death. That’s all there, and that will be the hook that attracts teen boys to this book, but once inside they will be inspired and moved by a truly honest and introspective memoir. This book covers the less-explored nature of the relationship between sons and fathers. It starts a little slowly but becomes addictive, and the action and tense life-and-death moments and unflinching look at espionage and war are expertly interspersed with more thoughtful passages; the moral lessons of both are powerful. Pair this book with the television series Band of Brothers and anything by Sebastian Junger.–Jake Pettit,  American School Foundation,  Mexico City

In our continuing series on the first adult books we read as teens, one of our newest reviewers, Meghan Cirrito, talks Chopin’s The Awakening, a book that I had trouble reading as a college sophomore.  Go Meghan!

It is difficult to remember when I stopped reading books for kids my age and when I started reading adult books. My parents were generous in that they took me to the public library as often as I wanted to go and they never censored what I read. Their trust was very empowering for a kid who was shy and uncertain in social situations, and really, really bad at math. I excelled at reading and their trust in my ability to find my own books gave me confidence in the thing that also gave me the most pleasure: reading.

That’s probably why as a 7th grader I relished the challenge of reading The Awakening by Kate Chopin. It was my elder sister’s Summer Reading assignment that she had steadfastly ignore for almost 2 months. I couldn’t best her in many things, but I could read. From St. Louis myself, I was intrigued when I read the author’s bio in the back of the book and saw she was from St. Louis too. I remember also being drawn-in by the gauzy woman on the cover – I think she was standing in the sea. Chopin’s hot and hazy Grand Isle vacation was as unfamiliar to me as the clothes they wore and the French phrases they threw around, but I quickly became engrossed in Mrs. Pontellier’s life. At the time, the examination of marriage and feminism passed me right by. I was struck by what a jerk her husband was and how confused she seemed. It also did not seem to me that Robert had much to recommend him in the boyfriend department. But the ending. The ending was worth the sometimes boring descriptions of sumptuous furniture and confusing observations about Edna’s skills as a mother. To kill herself in that manner seemed to me, at around age 12, extraordinarily beautiful and dramatic.

I remember putting the book down and wishing I had someone to discuss it with. I wished I could ask questions about the time and place. I wished I had been assigned the book and not my sister because then I would have to talk about it in English class. There was so much I didn’t understand about how a woman like Mrs. Pontellier lived and loved, which made the ending intriguing and confusing too. I didn’t understand The Awakening as a work of literature and sometimes wondered if it even “counted”. But I do always count it because I think what we read, even if we don’t fully understand it, adds building blocks to our foundations both as readers and people. I was proud of finishing a book my sister had been putting off reading for months. I was excited to move on to the next book, even if it “wasn’t for me”. As I look back, I’m so glad I never put limits on myself as a reader, that I was and am willing to try anything. As a parent now myself, I hope I can give my child the same freedom to find books, get confused, have curiosity piqued, and find some books to answer questions or satisfy curiosity.

Two magical books topped off our April reading, both earning starred reviews.

The Golem and the Jinni is a mash-up of Jewish and Arab folklore, historical fiction and fantasy,  new and old world sensibilities.  Helene Wecker’s debut seems destined to be among the best of the year. The publisher has certainly gone all-out. The physical package is richly gorgeous, the pages tipped in a deep, mysterious navy, with a cover painting evoking old New York.

HarperCollins has shared a series of clips from an interview of the author by Barbara Hoffert of Library Journal on the Library Love Fest youtube page.  One striking moment is the author’s central concern of the novel being the “pull between tradition, tradition toward your family expectations and obedience in that way and on the other hand self-determination, striking out on your own and making decisions about your path.”  The golem and the jinni have opposing viewpoints on these issues, so these are what “create sparks between them.”  Needless to say, teens can relate, both with this and the feeling of being a stranger in a strange land.

The author also did a great deal of research on New York at the turn of the century, and speaks about about where the research ends and the jump to the imagination begins.

Joe Hill just keeps getting better. I reviewed Horns a few years ago, and it made our 2010 best of the year list. His latest, NOS4A2, was released yesterday, and it is a masterful, thrilling read combining horror and fantasy. It has natural appeal for teen readers, not only because of its pacing and the controlled excellence of its story-telling, but also because of the main character, Vic (aka “The Brat”), and the use of Christmas as a subject of horror. What teen isn’t going to grin at that idea? Until they get to Christmasland, that is. Positively creepy!

Another reason I like this for teens is that, yes, Joe Hill is a horror writer. But this is not terrifying horror. Even those teens who shy away from the genre might be persuaded to give NOS4A2 a try. There are some really scary moments, there is plenty of dread, there is a bad guy kidnapping children, but much of the novel is about Vic’s mysterious special ability, her conflicts with her parents, and her attempts to find her way as a young adult after she leaves home. And for all its darkness, Hill has a really good time telling his story.

For example, there’s Maggie the librarian. Maggie is described as “a punk rock Keebler elf.” She wears a pair of earrings made of scrabble tiles, one F, one U. She tells Vic, “No one looks too closely at a librarian. People are afraid of going blind from the glare of so much compressed wisdom.” I think Mr. Hill is a fan. Well, except that the events of the novel pretty much do her in…

* WECKER, Helene. The Golem and the Jinni. 496p. HarperCollins. May 2013. Tr $$27.99. ISBN  9780062110831.  

Adult/High School–As a new century looms in the autumn of 1899, a most mysterious pair of immigrants appears in New York. Chava is a golem conjured as a wife for an immigrant who died en route to America and Ahmad is a jinni freed from centuries-long captivity by a tinsmith repairing an heirloom lamp. These treacherous creatures of Jewish and Arab myth possess supernatural powers that they can’t always control. The golem, an obedient servant made from earth, has prodigious physical strength and can hear the thoughts of those around her. The jinni, made from fire, appears human, yet is indifferent to human restraint. Within their respective immigrant neighborhoods, each is considered an outsider–secretive and strange, unlike any other. They meet to form an unusual and touching friendship as they navigate the challenges of a new world and battle the dabbler in the dark arts who knows their origins and yearns to use them in order to gain his own immortality. Filled with memorable characters and a backstory that spans a millennium, The Golem and the Jinni is a historical novel imbued with the kind of folk-tale sensibilities that make the fantastical seem not only plausible, but commonplace. That is to say, it is difficult to categorize. Teens will discover a book unlike any they’ve read and will readily empathize with its central characters struggling to create an identity, fit in, and belong. Fans of Erin Morgenstern’s The Night Circus (Doubleday, 2010) and those undaunted by epic tales will be thrilled with this ingeniously conceived novel.–John Sexton, Greenburgh Public Library, NY 

* HILL, Joe. NOS4A2. 704p. Morrow. May 2013. Tr $28.99. ISBN 9780062200570. 

Adult/High School–Vic McQueen is nine years old in 1986, the first time she rides through the Shorter Way Bridge behind her family’s house in rural Massachusetts on her Raleigh Tough Burner bike to find something that has been lost. By 1991, and many trips later, Vic is desperate to find someone to tell her she’s not crazy. A ride through the Bridge takes her to Cedar Rapids, Iowa, and Maggie, a librarian whose scrabble tiles tell her things. This time they tell Maggie that Vic could use her bike to find The Wraith. Vic has never heard of it, but Maggie knows about the man who drives the 1938 black Rolls-Royce Wraith, license plate NOS4A2, kidnapping children and using them up. She knows all about Charlie Manx, that he takes the children to Christmasland, from which they never return. Maggie begs Vic not to pursue Manx, but years later, after a terrible fight with her mother, Vic runs away from home looking for trouble. The Shorter Way delivers her straight to Manx’s house. After a horrible confrontation during which she tries to rescue Manx’s latest young victim, she escapes. Years later, it is only to save her son that Vic confronts Charlie Manx one more time in Christmasland itself. This is Hill’s best novel yet, perfectly paced and tailor-made for teens. Its courageous, rebellious heroine devotes herself to ridding the world of a terrifying monster, using a power that slowly erodes her sanity. NOS4A2 is as much dark fantasy and thriller as horror, and the genre blend will appeal to fans of all.–Angela Carstensen, Convent of the Sacred Heart, New York City 

Kate Atkinson’s Life After Life is one of the most buzzed adult books of the year so far.  It has starred reviews from Booklist, Library Journal, and Publisher’s Weekly.  Outside of the library world, it’s gotten glowing reviews from Entertainment Weekly, The Guardian, The New York Times, The Boston Globe, and many others.  And it has a nice, hooky (if not entirely original) gimmick: protagonist Ursula Todd is born on February 11, 1910, and lives out each of her several lives until an untimely death, at which point she starts over, never quite understanding that she has lived her life before—and in several of her lives, she has the opportunity to meet and possibly kill Adolf Hitler.

So it was with more than a little dismay that I found myself rejecting it for review for this blog.  Fortunately, our reviewer Diane Colson read the novel as well and loved it, giving me (and this blog) a great opportunity to revisit the book, in the form of a dialogue about why our opinions differed so much.  Since I’m the one fighting the tide of critical opinion, I’ll try to justify myself first.

MARK: I first heard about the novel on Barbara Hoffert’s Prepub column at Library Journal, as one of “Barbara’s Picks,” and was immediately excited to read it.  And indeed, for the first 100 pages or so, I was convinced that I had a starred review on my hands.  Most important (to me) Atkinson’s language is gorgeous, and her prose creates a wonderful counterpoint to the story as she freely intertwines characters’ memories of prior conversations or quick flashbacks into scenes so that the reader is always slightly off balance as to when each scene is taking place.  Atkinson is also an expert at weaving her ideas and themes into the most commonplace of dialogues.

The gimmick of the novel is not terribly new, but still interesting enough, especially in the early going.  But as I waded into the long central section of the novel, in which Ursula lives through World War II several times, the novel began to unravel for me.  After the first few times Ursula is reborn, she starts to get strange hints of the future that bleed through from her past lives, and begins to take some active control and try to prevent bad things that have happened.  But then abruptly, this thread is dropped, and the reader is treated to several hundred pages of two or three of Ursula’s lives stretching out into WWII (and sometimes beyond) in which she seems to have no awareness at all of anything that has happened in her past lives. 

On top of that, while I noted above Atkinson’s skill at integrating her themes into the novel, she has altogether too many ideas and themes to pursue and none of them seem to cohere.  The piece of the novel that treats the hoary old question of “would you go back and kill Hitler?”, doesn’t actually seem to pertain to the novel’s main concerns which surround more interior questions of how it is best to live and whether a person’s actions define one or vice versa.  This is all the more frustrating, because Atkinson doesn’t seem to want to grapple with the logistics of her gimmick: the “Hitler-time-travel question” is predicated on the theory that a tiny change in the past would have profound effects in the future.  But Atkinson isn’t willing to spend the necessary time and effort thinking this through as it affects Ursula, because despite all the changes in her many lives, her family seems to always stay the same, and Ursula herself seems to run into the same people over and over.  But there is no logic or consistency to how these encounters are applied.

OK, that’s enough for a first go round.  Let’s turn to Diane and see what she has to say.

DIANE: Thank you for your insights, Mark. I’m happy that we agree on one thing: Atkinson is a fabulous writer. Her sentences are sleek but well-muscled, able to conjure characters with a sentence or two, as here: “Enid had auditioned for the part of plucky young London woman somewhere around 1940 and had been playing it with gusto ever since.” (p130) I also appreciated Atkinson’s subtle shifts in mood and plot direction with each revisiting to Ursula’s past/present. That would become even more interesting, I suspect, in a second reading.

Truthfully, my initial reaction was disappointment: Is this child ever going to make it past the age of five? It took me a bit to figure out the sequence, if any, in the subsequent chapters. The chapters entitled “Armistice” gave me a better idea of Ursula’s role. Ursula seemed more like a role than a full-fleshed character for much of the book to me. She was a witness to suffering. She tried to alleviate the suffering by altering the events that seemed directly causal. In the variations of “Armistice,” Ursula’s strategies become bolder, as if the earlier attempts have made a deepening mark in her consciousness. And yet, as the final rendition of “Armistice shows,” Ursula can change only her own actions; others maintain free will and calamity is not always averted.

I believe a major theme of the book is that of the witness. Ursula is cast into situations where there she witness great sufferings, which in some lives drive her to despair. These long stretches into the future that do throw off the rhythm of the book off a bit. But it seems necessary for Ursula to witness all that she intends to prevent, to pinpoint the correct moment for interference. This is all my interpretation, of course. Ursula’s sphere of concern widens from her family to the fate of England to the fate of Germans and Jews and finally to the descendants of Jews. Because of the structure of the book, it’s hard to say with certainty that this all happened sequentially. It certainly helps provide a linear guideline for readers.

Atkinson also drops clues that Ursula is not the only person with memories of past life experiences. Ursula’s own birth is dependent upon the intervention of others. I won’t give further examples because of spoiler potential, but it enhanced my appreciation to extend the story with such possibilities. Ursula herself muses over the metaphysical possibilities in her talks with Dr. Keppet. Is life circular rather than linear? Ursula states that, “…memories are sometimes in the future.” I felt this created intriguing questions. While reincarnation and concurrent universes are not unique themes in fiction, this might be a first exposure for some teen readers. It’s a major brain jostle when presented as credibly as Atkinson does here.

MARK: Thanks for your thoughts Diane. It actually sounds as if we had fairly similar reactions to the various aspects of the novel, but that for perhaps personal reasons chose to put different emphases on these aspects.  I have to admit to being a little uncomfortable with my reactions, because usually I am a great defender of art that is bold and messy and doesn’t come together neatly, and yet that seems to be what I am criticizing her in Atkinson.  But there you go: “do I contradict myself,” etc.  I quite like your idea of Ursula as a “witness”, although I remain uncomfortable with the tensions between the themes of circularity and inevitability versus “the Hitler question.”  But perhaps that is just my own hang up about what is, in the end, a somewhat silly hypothetical.

I will just bring up one other small complaint I had, because I think it ties into my larger complaint about the (in)coherence of the structure.  Early on, it seemed that a major plot point was the seemingly random murder of a young girl (or sometimes two) in Ursula’s neighborhood.  This plot point isn’t exactly dropped, but it is certainly given far less than what seemed to be its due as the novel proceeds.  Again, I think this is a relatively minor point, but it seemed like a symptom of Atkinson’s failure (in my view) to have a complete grasp on her unwieldy plot.

I think I’ve probably rambled enough—I’ll let you have the final word on the book.

DIANE: Ursula does expound further on the possible circular nature of life near the end of the book. I’ll try to explore that part without plot spoilers, but readers may get unwanted glimpses into the conclusion (such as it is) of Ursula’s story.

Near the end of the book, Ursula says that life is not circular, but that it is like a palimpsest. I had to look that up: A palimpsest refers to writing paper that can be washed off and used again, as was done with old manuscripts. Sometimes the words of the original document seep through over time. My interpretation of this is that the vague sensations of foreboding, like the sudden grip of fear Ursula experiences before something terrible is about to happen, become stronger over time. She describes a time when she is sitting in a tea shop and is irresistibly compelled to dash out. When Ursula reaches her destination, recognized by the reader as a part of her past, her mind races:

The past seemed to leak into the present, as if there were a fault somewhere. Or was the future spilling into the past? Either way it was nightmarish, as if her inner dark landscape had become manifest. The inside became the outside. Time was out of joint, that was for certain. (p505)

Like the enigmatic Dr. Kellet, Atkinson does not commit to a definitive explanation of Ursula’s condition. I think this pulls the reader deeper into their own personal interpretations. Generally I prefer a cleaner resolution to a novel, but since there’s nothing clean in the structure here, amorphous theorizing fits well.

I’m glad you brought up the example of the girl who is murdered, because I think it is that event that brings Ursula to an awakening. The murder is something that Ursula tries to prevent in all her lives. Sometimes we only know that it didn’t happen because the girl appears as a grown-up. Then there is a time that Ursula does not prevent the crime. At the moment when she could have acted, Ursula is swept up in the most distractible of distractions – romance. Afterwards, learning of the murder, Ursula suddenly knows she is culpable. “Something was riven, broken, a lightning fork cutting open a swollen sky.” (p504) I agree that this is a significant plot point and could have been given more space in the narrative. In the end, though, I think it packed a good punch.

So there you have it: two different takes on the artistic value of a very ambitious novel.  The final question to ask (for this blog) is whether the book has teen appeal.  Here, Diane and I are in pretty close agreement.  Here’s what Diane said to me over an email:

The teens that I think would like this book are the ones who read things like David Mitchell’s Cloud Atlas or Haruki Murakami’s The Wind-Up Bird Chronicles. I spoke with quite a few teens who were reading the former in anticipation of the movie last year. My feeling is that the appeal is limited, really, but that the unusual structure and somewhat mystical overcast of repeated lives may hook some teens.  It is true that Ursula is a young adult in several of the sections, but the sections where she grows older may be a bit dry for teen readers.

That pretty much sums up my feelings as well: a challenging book that some ambitious teens will love, but not one with broad appeal.  That said, for those, like Diane, who find the book to be an artistic success, I think even that limited teen appeal is worth playing up to the right teens, and I might even see this novel as a dark-horse Alex Award contender, depending on how the committee comes down on the issues Diane and I have been discussing.  But we’d love to hear from readers if anyone has yet another take on the book or on its potential teen appeal.

Today’s three reviewed novels share elements of the supernatural and magical realism.

What teenager doesn’t wish for a superpower, if only to imagine themselves less under the control of the adults in their lives? In a series of connected vignettes, What the Family Needed introduces seven members of one family who grapple with special abilities. I love the reviewer’s comparison to The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake, which won a 2011 Alex Award.

Teens might also try Steven Amsterdam’s first novel, Things We Didn’t See Coming. This, too, is a series of vignettes, all about a boy who begins by fleeing with his parents as an apocalypse approaches. Each chapter moves his story forward in time by a couple years into an increasingly dystopian future.

Next up is Rita Leganski’s debut novel. One part of the magic of The Silence of Bonaventure Arrow is its 1950′s New Orleans setting. The other is young Bonaventure’s exaggerated sense of hearing, which gives him access to a series of secrets. He can hear colors and the stories of inanimate objects, he can hear his dead father’s spirit, and he has a gift for healing the hurts of those close to him. The beauty of Leganski’s writing has been receiving raves.

The most fantastical of the three, Sister Mine is an urban fantasy based in Afro-Caribbean mythology that is all about family. io9 calls Nalo Hopkinson “one of the best fantasy authors working today.” And a recent Los Angeles Times article credits her with “helping to pave a way for writers of color to enter the mainstream of the SFF genre.” She contributed to the founding of the Carl Brandon Society, an organization devoted to exploring race and ethnicity in speculative fiction.

AMSTERDAM, Steven. What the Family Needed. 272p. Riverhead . Mar. 2013. Tr $26.95. ISBN 978-1-59448-639-5. LC 2012029651.  

Adult/High School–During a crisis, 15-year-old Giordana’s young cousin Alek asks whether she’d rather fly or be invisible. Giordana chooses invisibility, and Amsterdam’s novel follows her family through a lifetime of magic whenever they need it most–during times of sadness, confusion, or strife. At the center of this family epic is Alek. As the family members tell their stories about experiencing a superpower, their meditations inevitably come back to Alek as he progresses from being a precocious boy to a troubled teen and, later, into an inscrutable man. Once it is their turn to be gifted with something extraordinary when they need it most, they must ask themselves if everything they knew about Alek, madness, and magic is correct. Like Aimee Bender’s The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake (Knopf, 2010), Giordana and her family revolve around someone who is both extraordinary and frightening, someone obviously struggling with living in the regular world. The characters’ individual experiences with a special gift strip away their attempts at being “normal” and offer a glimpse into what it’s like to be Alek–burdened with the ability to help, saddled with the others’ secret thoughts, and tasked with balancing magic and madness. Readers who like to delve into magical realism will be fascinated as this family’s saga unfolds and the price of superpowers is paid.–Meghan Cirrito, formerly at Queens Borough Public Library, Jamaica, NY

LEGANSKI, Rita. The Silence of Bonaventure Arrow. 400p. HarperCollins/Harper. Feb. 2013. pap. $14.99. ISBN 978-0-06-211376-4.  

Adult/High School–While young Bonaventure Arrow has never uttered a sound, he hears everything, from the colors of the balloons on his first birthday to the ocean waves that emanate from a jar of sand to the voice of his dead father, whom he never met. Clearly, Bonaventure is a special child, and he has a destiny to fulfill. William Arrow was murdered in a New Orleans supermarket just before Christmas by a mentally disturbed war veteran, a mysterious man known as The Wanderer. William’s spirit is restless, and he stays close to his family, communicating only with his gifted son and agonizing over the grief felt by both his widow and mother. Told in the omniscient third person, the rich narration has a lyrical storytelling quality, capable of transporting readers to a faraway place a long time ago–in this case, New Orleans in the 1950s. The boy’s fate is entwined with that of the hoodoo practitioner Trinidad Prefontaine, a woman who sells baked goods with a side of gris-gris–magical charms. Secrets abound in this multigenerational tale that combines the mystical and the spiritual with strong themes of love and letting go, and of acceptance and forgiveness. Teens will be drawn in by the magical realism that suffuses Leganski’s novel, which also manages to touch on issues of race and social class. Teens who enjoyed the movie version of The Curious Case of Benjamin Button will find much to like here in a novel also reminiscent of Sue Monk Kidd’s The Secret Life of Bees.–Paula Gallagher, Baltimore County Public Library, MD 

HOPKINSON, Nalo. Sister Mine. 320p. Grand Central. Mar. 2013. Tr $23.99. ISBN 9780446576925. 

Adult/High School–Born conjoined, Abby and Makeda are twin children of a celestial demigod and a human woman. Their separation left Abby with mojo like her celestial relatives, and Makeda without, just like the regular “claypicken” humans with whom she goes to live. Their parents were harshly punished for daring to bring them into the world: their mother was turned into a creature and banished; their father had his mojo torn from his soul, then the two pieces were hidden. When Abby and Makeda’s celestial cousins accidentally release their father’s soul, it inhabits a kudzu plant and goes in search of his mojo. The twins reunite–squabbling all the way–to find and save their father. In the process of hunting him, Makeda learns the truth about her birth, her father’s punishment, and the price she may have to pay to help him reconnect with his mojo. The comingling of the fantastical and the real world in this urban fantasy is seamless and surprisingly credible. One element that ties the mystical so tightly with the real is family drama: intriguing even with regular humans, but this family drama is ratcheted up by curses, shape-shifting spies, and relatives who can use the elements of life itself to bring comfort or misery. The complex relationships and knotty family ties, all with a tasty supernatural flavor, will appeal to a wide range of teen readers.–Carla Riemer, Claremont Middle School, CA

In our ongoing series about our first encounters reading adult books, reviewer Amy Cheney discusses many of her favorites as a young teen, but offers a special shout out to the power of Harlequin Romances.  For more thoughts on Romance novels, check out this fascinating article from The Atlantic, discussing the genre’s ongoing interaction with feminism.  Now, here’s Amy:

As a teen growing up the adults books I remember reading are I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings, Crime and Punishment, and others by Dostoevsky. I also read a ton of Harlequin Romances, as a guilty pleasure. But my overall favorite writer was John Steinbeck.  Knowing he was dead, I knew exactly how many books he had written, and stopped myself from reading them all in two months as I wanted to have some to read later. I savored his books. My favorite Steinbeck was East of Eden; I recommend this title to teen readers today. Interestingly, the teens I serve are not a bit interested in I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings. I don’t think I’ve gotten one girl to read that book the entire 13 years I’ve worked with girls in detention.  Dostoevsky either.   All of the adult books I read as a teen have a profound impact on me today. I feel connected to both Steinbeck and Angelou, I can relate to Dostoevsky, and what I do in the world is intimately connected to these three writers.

As for Harlequin Romances, these have also impacted my work as a librarian. I would say I judged Harlequins as “trashy novels” which I saw as useful for fun and not much else. Then I read Infidel, a memoir by Ayaan Hirsi Ali, who grew up in a strict Muslim country where books were rarely available.  She credits Harlequins for awakening her to a dangerous and empowering concept, even a feminist one. This opened my mind up to the power of books and reading in a way that I hadn’t been open to before. Ali says:

…the allure of romance called to us from the pages of books. In school we read good books, Charlotte Bronte, Jane Austen, and Daphne du Maurier; out of school, Halwa’s sisters kept us supplied with cheap Harlequins. These were trashy soap opera-like novels, but they were exciting – sexually exciting. And buried in all of these books was a message: women had a choice. Heroines fell in love, they fought off family obstacles and questions of wealth and status, and they married the man they chose.

Most of my Muslim classmates were steeped in these cheap paperbacks, and they made us all unhappy. We, too, wanted to fall in love, with men we imagined in our bed at night. Nobody wanted to get married to a stranger chosen by her father. But we knew that the best we could was simply stave off the inevitable.

Ali goes on to do a lot more than stave off the inevitable – she refutes the entire notion of arranged marriage and becomes an Infidel. The power of Harlequins read as  a teen!

Following Stiff, Spook, Bonk and Packing for Mars, Mary Roach is back with Gulp, in which she maintains her punning, entertaining writing style, as well as her willingness to go to the gross-out extreme. There were actually moments in this book that made me nauseous, and there is one chapter in particular that I believe limits it to older teens, but no one can deny the appeal of Roach’s books with young adult readers AND the excellence of her research. She’s also a darling with the media, regularly getting coverage with outlets such as Huffington Post, Slate, and the Daily Show with Jon Stewart.

In Weird Life, David Toomey pushes the boundaries of what scientists consider to be life, beyond extreme life to what he calls weird life. In a New York Times Arts Beat interview, Toomey states that if we consider that all familiar life comes from a single ancestor, weird life comes from another altogether. He’s looking not only on Earth but in space as well. I’m sure we all heard teens sharing their excitement at last Thursday’s news about the discovery of two planets capable of sustaining life. These are the teens who will particularly enjoy this book. Toomey is an English professor at Amherst, and also a science writer. He pulls together multiple scientific fields here; he even includes a chapter on science fiction.

With Contagious, Jonah Berger, assistant professor at Wharton, engages the territory staked out by the ever-popular Malcolm Gladwell, but stays closer to business marketing than sociology or psychology. Why do certain ideas, videos, products go viral? His book website, Virality Explained, illustrates the six principles of his theory.

ROACH, Mary. Gulp: Adventures on the Alimentary Canal. 336p. bibliog. Norton. Apr. 2013. Tr $26.95. ISBN 9780393081572.

Young Adult/High School–Roach is back with her fifth funny, irreverent, and wonderfully informative book of scientific investigative journalism. Here she explores the digestive tract from top to bottom. Readers learn about human taste testers who help create new pet foods, whether a man can survive in a whale’s stomach, the phenomenon of extreme chewing, the science of eating contests, and the reason crispy foods are so appealing. With her trademark glee, Roach addresses several taboo subjects, such as drug mules, just how imprisoned convicts smuggle contraband, and the flammability of flatulence. She relishes the opportunity to go to the most gross-out extremes in her research. Just as fascinating as the scientific facts she uncovers are the people she meets. Many of the scientists Roach introduces, either still alive or from the past, are incredible characters. As she says, “I think it’s fair to say that some degree of obsession is a requisite for good science, and certainly for scientific breakthrough.” Roach’s conversational writing style, especially the incorporation of clever, punning one-liners, particularly within the footnotes, is tailor-made for teens. They might not even notice how much they are learning about research, as the author mentions reading historic documents, interviewing the experts, and witnessing and even taking part in the occasional experiment. While they might not want to read Gulp during lunch, readers will happily follow Roach down the digestive path.–Angela Carstensen, Convent of the Sacred Heart, New York City 

TOOMEY, David. Weird Life: The Search for Life That Is Very, Very Different from Our Own. 288p. index. Norton. Feb. 2013. Tr $25.95. ISBN 9780393071580.  

Adult/High School–How is life defined? Is it by creatures that breathe oxygen and drink water, as we define life on Earth? Or is it possible that life can survive on ammonia, or silicon, or some other element? And when does a robot or some other artificial intelligence become life? Might we someday be dominated by our machines? And given the vastness of the universe, how likely is it that life elsewhere is looking for us in the same way we are looking for it? These are but a few of the questions brought up in Toomey’s mind-expanding book. In nine independent but interrelated chapters, the author first shares the “weirdest” life we’ve found, extremophiles, which live on Earth in either hotter or colder temperatures than life was originally believed to be sustainable. However, just because we haven’t discovered life on other planets yet doesn’t mean it’s not there–as one scientist puts it, “Absence of evidence is not evidence of absence.” The book ends with a mindblowing chapter about life in the multiverse. Who is to say that our universe is the only one? Maybe there’s another universe on the other side of us, and another one and another one, to infinity and beyond. These kinds of scientific and philosophical conundrums are what give this book appeal beyond the standard science book.–Jamie Watson, Baltimore County Public Library, MD

BERGER, Jonah. Contagious : Why Things Catch On. 224p. photos. S & S. Mar. 2013. Tr $26. ISBN 9781476711683.

Adult/High School–Livestrong yellow wristbands, Rebecca Black’s “Friday” video, and Vietnamese manicurists all have something in common. They went viral, rapidly escalating in popularity until virtually everyone has experienced or at least become aware of their existence. Taking a style cue from other popularly accessible authors such as Daniel Pink and Malcolm Gladwell, Berger presents his hypothesis for why certain things catch on. His STEPPS theory asserts that the six principles–social currency, triggers, emotion, public, practical value, and stories–must work in some combination to ensure that an idea or product goes viral. Deconstructing numerous examples to illustrate his points, the author walks readers through each element in a conversational style, distilling his main ideas in pithy statements. (To illustrate the importance of emotion, remember “When we care, we share.”) Berger’s audience is marketing professionals or those with a product to promote, and he presents his points through that lens. Still, anyone interested in social theories will find his studies intriguing and be tempted to apply their conclusions to more recent viral occurrences. While teens might not be familiar with all the examples, somewhat undermining how successful the technique is, they will easily understand the thought behind them. Marketing students are a perfect fit for this exploration, and marketing teachers would do well to include Berger’s theory and writing in their curriculum. Just as Levitt and Dubner’s Freakonomics (Morrow, 2005) found a broader teen audience, so may Contagious.–Priscille Dando, Pairfax County Public Schools, VA 

April is National Poetry Month, and unlike short stories, poetry is one form of literature that I, at least, have never had trouble getting teens interested in.  Every April (except this one–my library is doing some construction) I try to hold at least one poetry event–an open mic, or a poetry slam–and they tend to be very well attended.  Indeed, there seems to be a strong cadre of teens who are very devoted to poetry–sometimes more excited about writing it than reading it, but still devoted.

Given that there’s a built in audience for poetry, it can be surprisingly hard to find the right new poetry collections to recommend to teens, and far too easy to hand them old standbys like Angelou, Hughes, or Frost.  So I’m excited to offer up a couple of new-ish collections that should have great teen appeal.

First up is Gerald Stern’s In Beauty Bright, which came out last year.  Stern is an old-timer (born in 1925!), and this is his 18th full-length poetry collection, but he still has plenty to offer to the young–including recollections of his time in New York as a young man, and a still very fresh approach to his verse.

Mitchell L.H. Douglas, meanwhile, is a relative new-comer.  His new collection, whose title should be properly rendered \ˈblak\\ˈal-fǝ ˌbet\ is only his second, and it is a major statement: at once looking backwards at his roots and forwards at new ways of expressing himself. Offer this book to anyone you were thinking about handing an Angelou or Hughes collection.

STERN, Gerald. In Beauty Bright. 128p. W.W. Norton. 2012. Tr $25.95. ISBN 9780393086447.

Adult/High School–The 18th collection of Stern’s work is entertaining, easily read, and puzzling. One can sense a rascal with a good sense of humor behind the artful words on the page. Some of the poems are set in New York City, where he lived in his 20s, and some in Pittsburgh, where he grew up the son of Eastern European immigrants. In “Kafeteria,” Stern remembers the New York of his youth, “I touched everything touchable and stopped/in front of a dummy I had fallen in love with/and kried myself silly over her helplessness/an hour or so before my maiden speech/just north of Fourth where through the books I wandered/.” The narratives of his poems are not complete, but most readers will follow the stories and enjoy being confused and wonder why he selected the topic he did. Some are surrealistic but somehow one understands. In “Lowness,” he writes about a car: “It was me who took a small white Fiat/out of my briefcase to let it breathe and after/a second started it by gathering speed/with my left foot and hopping into the seat and/ giving it gas, as I remember.”–Karlan Sick, Library Consultant, New York City

DOUGLAS, Mitchell L.H. \blak\ \al-fe bet\: Poems. 80p. Persea. Feb. 2013. pap. $15.00. ISBN 9780892554218.

Adult/High School–Given the title and Douglas’s claim to have invented a new verse form called a “fret”, readers may be forgiven for expecting a more formally adventurous collection. Instead, the fret turns out to be a fairly simple acrostic–using the notes of the six guitar strings as each line’s first letter, with a simple vertical caesura to denote the guitar’s frets–and in the end Douglas only supplies three examples. Nevertheless, the poet has no need to resort to formal tricks when he has such a rich topic and strong command of his free verse. He sets out to tell the stories of his sharecropping grandparents, in four sections. The first and last sections act as brackets, telling the story more-or-less straight. The third section, meanwhile, directly confronts the collection’s place within Black literature, citing contemporaries such as Debra Kang Dean and Marilyn Nelson. But it is in the crucial second section that Douglas truly shines, as he builds on the story’s musical references (in the author’s note he mentions sharecropping blues guitarists like Son House), creating “alternate takes” and variations, larding his vocabulary with musical terms and introducing the fret. He prepares for these musical musings in the title and opening lines (and, indeed, the collections best lines) to the first section’s penultimate poem: “Al Green Was a Preacher/before he was a pastor–/let me explain. If you can’t find/a sermon in ‘Love & Happiness,’/something’s wrong.” And if you can’t find the music in Douglas’s sermons, something’s equally wrong.–Mark Flowers, John F. Kennedy Library, Vallejo, CA

In our continuing series on the first adult books we read as teens, reviewer Jamie Watson talks about the limited access she had to adult novels:

When did I start reading adult books? I’ve thought about this question before, because I’ve used it as in icebreaker in workshops before. Especially in the “OMG the GOSSIP GIRL SERIES IS THE END OF CIVILIZATION!” panic of 10 years ago or so. Almost everyone my age read Flowers in the Attic as teenagers. In fact, so many people did that when I talk about it, people often assume it was a teen book. 

My reading tended towards the most popular, best selling stuff, which in the late ‘70s, early ‘80s was Mary Higgins Clark, Danielle Steel, John Saul, and my still beloved Judith Krantz.  But why? Was I just not a very adventurous reader yet? Also I read nothing but mass market fiction. Why? Was it price, or something else? I think, what it came down to, to use a more contemporary term, was “discovery.” I honestly can’t remember buying books anywhere  but 

1. The Scholastic Book Fair
2. The grocery store.
3. Hart’s, the late ‘70s “Target” of the Midwest.

Ok, maybe Rite-Aid. But you see where I’m going with this. In my small Ohio town, there WERE NO BOOKSTORES until we got a mall in 1980. Then we got a Waldenbooks. (Or maybe a B. Dalton. I can’t remember!) So, I read what was available in the grocery store – which is pretty much what’s available in the grocery store today. We had a newsstand, where we would buy Archie Comics digests, but no bookstore.

I know I used the library, but I don’t think I thought of it as a place for pleasure reading until I was older.  The only book I can remember checking out was Tom Tryon’s The Other because I saw the creepy movie on tv and wanted to read the book.

It certainly begs the question of what kind of a reader I would be as a teenager today, with everything I could imagine at my fingertips.  Would I have managed to get my hands on 50 Shades of Grey?

Anyway, back to the books.

Danielle Steel’s The Promise. Oh, how maudlin. A young couple are in a car crash. The male is comatose, and the female has appearance-altering plastic surgery. The woman’s mother creates an outlandish plot to keep them apart, but of course, they find each other later and tears ensue. This was followed by the equally maudlin Season of Passion about a football player and his lover. I haven’t read a Danielle Steel book since I got out of high school, and I, like those Flowers in the Attic readers, think of Steel as a writer of YA books!

John Saul wrote REALLY gruesome horror novels. The first, Suffer the Children featured the mean, evil child murderer masturbating with the corpse of a cat! Still traumatizing to this day. The second, which I liked a lot better, was Punish the Sinners, about girls in a Catholic school committing suicide.

And Judith Krantz. She didn’t write many, but they arguably set the tone of 80’s pop culture – and beyond.  Dynasty, Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous, all the way up to Sex and the City, owe a debt to Ms. Krantz, I believe.

Oh and in the summers, I also dug around in my Mom’s closet, where I discovered Marjorie Morningstar and Valley of the Dolls.  Knowing my love of Judith Krantz, it probably won’t surprise you that I loved them both.

Two items to enjoy this morning.

Six times each year I have the opportunity to interview a debut author whose first title exemplifies an adult book with teen appeal. My interview with Kimberly McCreight, author of Reconstructing Amelia, is out today. If you subscribe to the SLJ Teen Newsletter you will find it in your inbox later today. If not, take a look here.

 

 

The 2013 Pulitzer Prizes were announced earlier this week. One of them is a terrific nonfiction choice for teen readers. Black Count: Glory, Revolution, Betrayal and the Real Count of Monte Cristo by Tom Reiss won the prize for Biography or Autobiography. We reviewed it back in September 2012.

Today we highlight three recent historical novels set in a variety of time periods and locations. I also thought it would be fun to highlight one of our AB4T reviewers, Connie Williams, who has been reviewing historical fiction since the blog began.

First, a brief introduction to the reviews. Orphan Train moves between contemporary Maine and Depression-era Minnesota. Both settings feature young women who have lost their families. Though I have encountered both fiction and nonfiction for younger readers on the topic of orphan trains (Joan Nixon Lowry’s Orphan Train Adventures and Andrea Warren’s nonfiction account, Orphan Train Rider: One Boy’s True Story), I cannot think of another for teen readers. This is a fascinating, moving slice of history not widely known. Author Kline sums it up on her website, “Between 1854 and 1929, so-called “orphan trains” transported more than 200,000 orphaned, abandoned, and homeless children – many of them first-generation Irish Catholic immigrants – from the coastal cities of the eastern United States to the Midwest for “adoption” (often, in fact, indentured servitude).” For more, take a look at her webpage about her research process. NPR interviewed Kline just a few days ago about the novel.

Garden of Stones also alternates time periods, 1978 San Francisco and World War II-era Los Angeles and the Manzanar internment camp. This is a story in which a daughter seeks to learn more about her mother’s past, and ends up being introduced to her tragic adolescence. Garden of Stones was the Target Book Club Pick for March 2013. Teens might already know the author – Sophie Littlefield has written in a variety of genres, including the popular post-apocalytic zombie series, Aftertime.

The Forgotten Queen is D.L. Bogdan’s fourth novel set in the Tudor era. Here she tackles a little-known figure, Margaret Tudor, Henry VIII’s older sister. Give this one to fans of Philippa Gregory, Alison Weir, and Nancy Bilyeau.

And now, more about Connie. I asked her to introduce herself, and here is what she has to share: I am the Teacher Librarian at Petaluma High School in Petaluma, CA.  I was a junior high school librarian for over 20 years before moving up to the High School 4 years ago. I’ve been the President of the California School Library Association and am now the Chair of the AASL Legislative Committee. I consider myself to be a school library advocate and I’m always writing letters, visiting legislators and generally trying to get the word out about strong school libraries.

I’ve always been an avid reader of historical novels. and so when I started  writing reviews for AB4T I asked to only get historical novels – mostly medieval mysteries. Little did I know that I’d be introduced to such an array of historical fiction. I’ve met  Catherine the Great, learned about life in Tokyo during WWII, been on a ranch in the midwest during a rash of mysterious deaths, and sent to an island because of typhoid. Reading about people far away both in time and location has been a treat. AB4T has sent me books I’d never find on my own and I am honored and grateful to be a part of this column.

I am married and have two grown children. My husband works in the film industry which means that he gets to work in interesting locations all over. My children claim that I have replaced them with my two incredibly brilliant and cute dachshunds… and they may be right.

KLINE, Christina Baker. Orphan Train. 288p. Morrow. Apr. 2013. pap. $14.99. ISBN 9780061950728.  

Adult/High School–Ninety-year-old Vivian has an attic full of memories. Seventeen-year-old Molly has nothing but a potential stint in juvie for stealing Jane Eyre from the library, a bad attitude, and foster parents who don’t want her. The two meet when Molly chooses the community-service assignment of helping Vivian clean her attic. Molly assumes that working for this “rich old lady” will be just a quick in-and-out job to clean up her record. Instead, Molly and Vivian open trunks full of history.  Vivian, born into grueling poverty in Ireland, arrived in America only to have her family perish in a fire. In 1929 the Orphan Train sent orphaned children from New York to Minnesota to find jobs and a home. What Vivian found was further poverty and humiliating living conditions. Through the kindness of her teacher, she finally found a safe home. As Vivian’s story unfolds, Molly discovers that she wants to help Vivian meet her past, all the while unknowingly helping herself in the process. Both women must come to terms with the choices they’ve made, and can still make, in their lives. Vivian still has opportunities to open her heart. Molly, on the brink of rolling out of a “system” that, like Vivian’s orphan-train experience, gave her few opportunities, discovers that she, too, can determine her own future. Many teens will like this story for its juxtaposition of eras: Molly’s story is contemporary and realistic, Vivian’s reflects a past time and culture. This novel will leave readers wanting to know more, yet satisfied that it ends in just the right way.–Connie Williams, Petaluma High School, CA

LITTLEFIELD, Sophie. Garden of Stones. 320p. Harlequin. Mar. 2013. pap. $14.95. ISBN 9780778313526.  

Adult/High School–In June, 1978, sitting at his desk in the dank San Francisco basement of Reg’s Gym, Reg is murdered. Hours later, Patty Takeda listens as police question her mother, Lucy, about her whereabouts at the time of the crime. Puzzled that her mother knows this man, Patty investigates. Seeking information about Reg at his apartment, she discovers a box labeled “Manzanar.” Once the box is opened, Lucy’s story is revealed through pictures and artifacts and later from Lucy herself. Growing up in Los Angeles as the beautiful daughter of wealthy Renjiro Takeda and stunning Miyako, 14-year-old Lucy’s life suddenly changed when her father died. Soon after, Pearl Harbor was attacked, and within weeks the Japanese American community was herded into camps where they experienced the starkest privation and disorder. Lucy discovered that the corruption of the camp overseers surrounded her beautiful mother in a way that caused her to take the most drastic steps to keep Lucy safe. Counterpointing stories between Patty’s 1970’s investigation of her mother’s past and Lucy’s own story, Garden of Stones takes readers into the internment camps and the horrendous decisions one must make when there are few options. Teens will gain insight into the tragic decision that created these camps and will find much to think about.–Connie Williams, Petaluma High School, CA

BOGDAN, D. L. The Forgotten Queen. 384p. bibliog. Kensington. Jan. 2013. pap. $15.00. ISBN 978-0-7582-7138-9.  

Adult/High School–Born to King Henry VII and Queen Elizabeth of York, Margaret is the sister of Arthur and Henry. With the Tudors now firmly established on the throne of England, much depends on the alliances they can make. When Margaret learns that she is to marry King James IV of Scotland, her sense of duty is put to the test because she must leave England to live among the “wild Scots.”  But Margaret falls in love with her new husband, and with the birth of her son Jamie, she claims Scotlandas her home. When King James dies, leaving Margaret as the Regent for her son (now King James V), she must keep Jamie safe from warring clans as well as intervention from France and England. As he lay dying, James warned Margaret to think only of her child and his ascent to the throne, but Margaret is unable to resist the charms of handsome Archibald Douglas, leader of the influential Douglas clan. With her brother Henry now on the throne of England, Margaret faces the conflicts of warring nations and family ties. Teens will learn much about the culture of Tudor England and Stewart Scotland while also observing this entitled young woman make mistake after mistake because of her inability to see past her family ties or her own needs. Offer this to fans of historical fiction who love reading about the many Tudors of the 15th and 16th centuries. Margaret’s story is an important one because her marriages, first to James, then to Douglas, begat children who, in succeeding generations, ultimately completed the Tudor goal of uniting England and Scotland.–Connie Williams, Petaluma High School, CA

And now for another installment of Adult Books 4 Teens: First Encounters, our reviewers’ thoughts on the first adult books they read.  Today’s guest post is from Sarah Flowers:

I remember four books as my first adult books. They may not have been the very first I read (like Diane, I’m sure I read Readers’ Digest Condensed Books at an early age), but these are the ones that stayed with me—that I read, and later re-read, and recommended to others, including my own children. The first three, I distinctly remember reading in 7th grade, when I was 12 and 13; the fourth I read during the summer between 7th & 8th grades.

Interestingly, all four, I think, are books that would meet our AB4T criteria today. They have protagonists who are teenaged, at least at the beginning of the book; they are all coming-of-age stories; they contain strong story-telling, and they are (at least moderately) well-written.

So what are they? First, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, by Betty Smith. Francie Nolan is twelve years old, when the book opens, in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, in the early 1900s. Francie lives with her younger brother, Neely, and their parents, the hard-working Katie and the handsome and charming but alcoholic Johnny. There are scenes from this book that are burned in my mind: Katie’s condensed-milk can bank, nailed to the floor of the closet; Francie and Neely catching the big Christmas tree and lugging it home; Francie watching the older girls in the tenement prepare for their dates on Saturday nights; Francie going to the library and trying to read every book, while always returning to her favorites.

I remember that my mother suggested I read the book—it came out in 1943, when she was 13, so I suppose she read it as a teenager, too—and after I read it, she re-read it. She said to me, “If I had remembered everything that was in this book, I don’t think I would have recommended it to you.” I have an idea of some of the scenes she might have been referring to, but at the time, they sailed over my head. Years later, when I re-read it, I remember thinking myself, “Hmm. . . . I don’t think I noticed that part when I was 12!”

The next book was I Capture the Castle, by Dodie Smith. I remember that I found this book at a used book sale, and bought it for 25 cents (I still have the same edition). From the first line (“I write this sitting in the kitchen sink.”) I was captivated by 17-year-old Cassandra Mortmain and her life in a tumble-down castle in England in the 1930s. Cassandra’s wry sense of humor is delightful as she “captures” the various characters: her sister Rose, her brother Thomas, their eccentric father, their stepmother Topaz, and the newly arrived (wealthy) neighbors, Simon and Neil Cotton and their mother. Again, there are scenes that stay with me: Cassandra’s Midsummer Night ritual; Rose and Cassandra’s trip to London to retrieve a legacy of some ancient fur coats; Simon sharing music with Cassandra; and many more. It was probably the first bittersweet love story I had read—a book that didn’t totally have a happy ending, but that was satisfying nonetheless.

The third book I remember from that year was Gone with the Wind, by Margaret Mitchell. I remember being terrifically impressed that I had read a book of over 1000 pages! But I know I tore through it, enjoying the epic story of Scarlett and Rhett and the Civil War from the South’s viewpoint. I had not seen the movie when I first read the book, so didn’t picture Vivien Leigh as Scarlett—who was 16 years old in the first chapter. I remember even then being annoyed with Scarlett for mooning after Ashley.

The final book of the four that I recall from that year is Jane Eyre. I know that my mother had been suggesting that I read it, and I know that I tried several times during that year, but I couldn’t make it past those first few chapters, at Lowood Academy. In fact, I even remember that my mother told me just to skim over the first chapters; that she was sure I would love it once Jane got to Thornfield Hall. That summer after 7th grade (1965), my father had some kind of grant to attend a class at George Washington University. We all packed up and moved to Camp Springs, Maryland, for the summer—directly across the road from Andrews Air Force Base. We lived in an apartment complex, and of course we didn’t have very many of our things with us. I remember clearly reading the same volume of Readers’ Digest Condensed Books over and over again—it had The Intern, by Doctor X, Night of Camp David, by Fletcher Knebel, and House of Many Rooms, by Rodello Hunter. I was dying for something new to read. I’m not sure why we didn’t go to the library—perhaps my parents didn’t think we could get a card, since we were temporary residents.

Then one evening, we went to have dinner at the home of some friends of my parents’. I wandered into their den, and saw a copy of Jane Eyre on the shelf, and thought, “Why not give it another try?” By the time my parents were ready to go home, I was well into the story. I was crushed when my mother said we couldn’t take the book with us, but she reassured me that we would try to find a copy. And we did—or rather, my father did. One day, when he came back from his classes at GWU, he brought with him a paperback copy of Jane Eyre.

So those are my first encounters: four coming-of-age stories with young female protagonists, and all of them still in print and still popular today!

In what I believe is the first AB4T post about a professional resource, I cannot resist sharing my thoughts about a new ALA Editions book, just out: Cart’s Top 200 Adult Books for Young Adults: Two Decades in Review by Michael Cart. I have been looking forward to reading it ever since I spied it in an ALA catalog several months ago. Let’s take a look.

This is a slim volume (126 pages), its text primarily made up of two lists of books, alphabetical by title, fiction followed by nonfiction (with a generous number of graphic novels in both sections). Each book is given one or two paragraphs in which the author encapsulates the plot and shares the qualities that make the book special. He adds connections to other titles, sometimes a tidbit about the author, the particular popularity of a book with teens, or more about where the teen appeal lies. These annotations are charming. Cart has an easy way with plot summary, and a lovely, evenhanded way of sharing his passion for books – he made me want to read (or re-read) just about everything. He is not averse to including personal notes, making this all the more enjoyable.

Two appendices follow:
Appendix A: Not to be Missed: Books Notable for their Overall Excellence (essentially the best of the 200)
Appendix B: Something Entirely Different: Books Notable for their Originality

There is also an index that makes the books accessible by author as well.

In general, Cart’s tastes tend to the literary, to books likely to appeal to mature readers. There is a dearth of “adrenaline” titles, but there is a good amount of speculative fiction. I was left wishing for an appendix listing books by genre, but this is a resource meant more for browsing and enjoyment than for picking up in the middle of a readers’ advisory interview.

To some extent a book like this is a matter of the author’s opinion and intuition. There are a few notable books missing. For me, The Glass Castle and The Blind Side are indispensible. Ready Player One is listed but not The Night Circus from the same year. Still, especially considering that he is covering two full decades, the highlights are here. I found the nonfiction selections especially useful. Some of them were nicely out-of-the-box, and great ideas for teen reading.

The section I haven’t mentioned yet is the introduction, and it is notable. Cart looks at adult books for teen readers from an historical perspective, much of it shared through personal experience. Cart begins in 1967 with his first position, then backs up to 1930 (when ALA’s Best Books for Teenage Readers included both children’s and adult books) and brings the reader right up to the present. He also includes a clear discussion of “what kind of adult books interest and benefit young adults,” which includes a list of criteria for fiction and nonfiction, with examples. Next up, he recommends categorizing teen literature as ages 12 – 18, and young adult literature as ages 18 – 24. He concludes with a page and a half on where to find reviews of adult books for teens.

Let’s back up a minute. How do we feel about “what kind of adult books interest and benefit young adults.” Is benefit really part of what we consider when we choose the best of the best, or when we recommend a book to a teen reader?

Frankly, it’s something I struggle with in my own recommendations. I love to see teens reading books that will open their eyes to the wider world, especially the global world. I handed Behind the Beautiful Forevers to a student yesterday both because I thought she would find it fascinating and because I thought it was something she should read. That should bothers me sometimes. But as a school librarian, isn’t that one of my goals? Introducing the great books to my patrons? If I don’t create awareness, who will?

To be fair, I do tailor my suggestions to the reader’s request. I’m not going to hand The Tipping Point to a student interested in a zombie novel. In yesterday’s case, the student was looking for a nonfiction book about education. She wanted to learn more about a topic that interested her. I gave her several choices in that subject area, and then snuck the Boo title into her pile of considerations. It was her choice in the end.

I must admit that after reading Cart’s Top 200, I’m not clear on the author’s exact criteria for selecting his top books. One can surmise from parts of his introduction that they include appeal along with consideration of “language, plot, style, setting, dialog, characterization, and design” (the Alex Award suggested criteria). He looked at many other lists, awards, etc. then read, re-read, then read some more. In any case, his list is a wonderful reminder of books that have dropped out of sight a bit, and a wonderful reiteration of titles popular right now. Reading it, I was overtaken by the pleasure of learning from an incredibly experienced, smart, and well-read colleague. And —  did I mention — the man can write!

Full disclosure, Michael Cart was on my very first book selection committee, the 2004 Alex Awards Committee. I was quite intimidated. The lasting lesson I learned from Mr. Cart that year was to come to selection committee meetings prepared with a calm, reasoned defense for the books about which I was most passionate. Otherwise, I might not have the words to convince the committee to give full consideration to my favorite titles. He was always ready with just the right words, both for and against the books under discussion. I was impressed and a little awed by that ability.

Today’s reviewed novels are most likely to appeal to strong, mature teen readers looking for a challenge. Yet each includes a teen character, an authentic teen voice, that will keep the adventurous reading.

The starred review belongs to A Tale for the Time Being by Ruth Ozeki. This novel is difficult to categorize. It begins with diary entries by a teenage Japanese girl, but becomes more of a puzzle when the reader realizes that the entries are being read by an American novelist named Ruth who has discovered the diary on an island off British Columbia. Still, it is Nao’s voice that anchors the novel, and wins the reader’s sympathy.

The Gods of Heavenly Punishment also begins with a Japanese teenager and alternates between Japanese and American characters, but this is a novel about war, specifically World War II. Again, it is the teen character, Yoshi, who brings the various strains of the story together. For readers fascinated by John Hersey’s Hiroshima (widely read by the students in my school), this novel will provide additional, this time fictional, insight into the devastation experienced by Japan during the war.

A Map of Tulsa has been the subject of some rather heady comparisons. A starred Publishers Weekly review begins, “If Catcher in the Rye has lost its raw clout for recent generations of Internet-suckled American youth, here is a coming-of-age novel to replace it. Instead of running away, the pretentious narrator of this updated version of Salinger’s bildungsroman travels headlong back home to claim the town where he came of age.” While I don’t believe Catcher in the Rye has lost its caché with teen readers (I recently heard a group of 9th graders proclaim their love for it), this is a useful touchstone for understanding A Map of Tulsa.

Still, the other comparison Lytal’s debut nobel is winning is to Michael Chabon’s The Mysteries of Pittsburgh. While A Map of Tulsa will appeal to thoughtful, mature teens, it is perhaps more likely to appeal to slightly older readers – those who have already experienced the return home after that life-changing first year of college. “I came back to Tulsa … for different reasons,” Jim says. “To prove that it was empty. And in hopes that it was not.”

* OZEKI, Ruth. A Tale for the Time Being. 432p. Viking. Mar. 2013. Tr $27.95. ISBN 9780670026630.  

Adult/High School–At first there are two stories. Nao, a 15-year-old Japanese girl, is writing a diary entry that speaks directly to readers: “Hi! My name is Nao, and I am a time being. Do you know what a time being is? Well, if you give me a moment, I will tell you.” Across the Pacific, a novelist named Ruth finds a barnacle-encrusted plastic bag. Inside this bag is a Hello Kitty lunchbox, which in turn holds a few items. One of them is Nao’s diary. Ruth is fascinated to the point of obsession with Nao’s writing, which describes the teen’s close relationship to her Zen Master great-grandmother, whom Nao texts constantly; Nao’s suicidal father; and the vicious bullying Nao endures at her school. Ruth launches an investigation into the whereabouts of Nao. As the novel progresses, the distinction between the two stories blurs. Ozeki brilliantly manages the intersection of the two worlds. Time is presented as both an unyielding barrier and an unceasing flow of possibilities. Ozeki’s writing includes a surprise at every turn. Like a Zen koan, or possibly like quantum mechanics, all that is possible is present.  Teens will find Nao’s quirky narration irresistible, and the inclusion of topics as diverse as kamikaze plane fighters, Schrödinger’s cat, and Pacific currents are bonuses for inquisitive readers. This is the kind of book that invites immediate re-reading to fully appreciate the concurrent themes and sly foreshadowing.–Diane Colson, formerly at Palm Harbor Public Library, FL

EPSTEIN, Jennifer Cody. The Gods of Heavenly Punishment. 320p. Norton. Mar. 2013. pap. $14.95. ISBN 9780393335316.  

Adult/High School–In 1945 war torn Tokyo, 15-year-old Yoshi ignores the air-raid warnings yet again. But ignoring them this time means that Yoshi is there as American airplanes fly over, dropping napalm fire onto the city. Devastation is complete and life for Yoshi–and Japan–changes forever. The story alternates among characters from both sides of the war. In the United States, Cam, a young pilot. overcomes a debilitating stutter and gains the confidence to join up, only to have his disability reappear to devastating effect. Lacy, his wife, awaits his return. Anton, an American architect, and his photography-loving son living in Japan before the war must leave when it becomes apparent that war is imminent. In Japan, Hana, Yoshi’s mother, raised in England and summoned home to marry, is determined to raise her daughter to find the freedom that eludes her within her traditional Japanese life. Yoshi’s father is a builder whose brutal actions set the stage for Yoshi to bind these characters together into one story. Describing family life in pre-war Japanand the United States through the 1960’s, Jones shows the horror of war and the complete devastation of a city and its culture at the mercy of incredible firepower. Yet while this is a novel of war, it is equally about the relationships of family, culture, survival, forgiveness, and hope. It is a complicated story that not all teens will gravitate to, but mature, well-read young adults who know and like history should be introduced to this book.–Connie Williams, Petaluma High School, CA

LYTAL, Benjamin. A Map of Tulsa. 256p. Penguin. Mar. 2013. pap. $15. ISBN 978-0-14-242259-5.  

Adult/High School–Lytal’s story about the transitional period of life after high school will resonate with certain older teens. Jim Praley has returned to his hometown of Tulsa after his first year of college where he becomes involved with exotic, artistic, and somewhat wild Adrienne. Though readers can see that Jim and Adrienne are a terrible match, Jim views her as opening a new chapter of his life, one where he sees the city through wonderful, sophisticated eyes. During that summer, Jim struggles to reconcile his high-school personality with the new one he believes he is creating (new Jim is wild, hangs out with society, and  takes drugs). In Part II, a few years have passed and a tragic accident brings Jim back to Adrienne and Tulsa. Once again he experiences conflict between an old and a new life and is drawn to staying in Tulsa. Slow paced and lyrical, this book will probably not have broad YA appeal, but its themes will certainly speak to teens on the brink of college and leaving home. The exploration of how one views one’s friends, parents, and town after being away on one’s own will be appreciated by thoughtful readers, and possibly to those who are worried about moving into adulthood.–Sarah Debraski, formerly of Somerset County Library, NJ

In The Reader’s Advisory Guide to Genre Fiction (ALA, 2009), Joyce Saricks divides genre fiction into four categories: Adrenaline Genres, Emotion Genres, Intellect Genres, and Landscape Genres (h/t to Jonathan Hunt for pointing me to this wonderful resource–and click through that link to read some fascinating commentary on the categories).  I find this categorization much more helpful than traditional breakdowns by SF, Mystery, etc., because it speaks to the way readers actually respond to books, and how to match them to new ones.  For example, even though I read fairly widely among traditional genres, the books I respond most strongly to can almost always be considered “Intellect” books, with the occasional dip into “Emotion.”  Which is to say, I’m probably not the best first reader for the books under review today, which are all variants on the Adrenaline Genre.  Here’s what Saricks has to say about Adrenaline:

[R]eaders who appreciate fast-paced books don’t honestly care whether we call these Suspense, Thrillers, or Adventure. They want the page-turning pace that drives these genres. Grouping these together as Adrenaline genres . . . helps us understand that we can often offer titles from any of these to readers who talk about their desire for a book that pulls them into the story quickly and keeps them turning pages until the very end.

Adrenaline Genres–Adventure, Romantic Suspense, Suspense, Thrillers–all appeal to readers who appreciate intricately detailed stories told at a pace that moves almost more quickly than they can turn pages. Pacing is the most important element; it engages from the first and offers multiple plot twists that keep them on the edge of their chairs. (pp. 3-4).

Saricks broadly places Fantasy among the Landscape Genres and Science Fiction among the Intellect Genres, but it is clear that the three books under review today, even though they each have elements of Fantasy and SF, are Adrenaline reads.  Indeed, Saricks specifically mentions James Rollins, co-author of The Blood Gospel, as an example of an Adrenaline author (p. 18).  And you can see below that our reviewers located the heart of each novel in its plot, pacing, and suspense.  Laura notes the strength of the suspense , “ratcheted up by the use of a timeline/clock a the start of each segment” in The Blood Gospel.  Carla (who reviewed the first book in this series last year) highlights the “action and drama” of The Queen is Dead, though note that she sees some potential for Emotion readers.  And Sarah states outright that in The Kassa Gambit, “the plot carries the day.”

We all know teens who want action, action, action: so for the adrenaline junkies among your patrons, here are three great books to get them hooked on.

ROLLINS, James & Rebecca Cantrell. The Blood Gospel.  Bk. 1. 496p. (Order of the Sanguines Series). Morrow. Jan. 2013. Tr  $27.99. ISBN 9780061991042; ebook ISBN 9780062235756.

Adult/High School–In the beginning, there were the strigoi (vampires). Lazarus is one, but by the grace of Christ’s blood he becomes the first Sanguinist, leading an order dedicated to living a life of devotion and celibacy, with the hope that if death is honorable, their souls will be returned. Flash forward to modern-day Caesarea, Israel, and an archaeological dig that might prove the truth of the Slaughter of the Innocents unleashed by Herod (only–oddly–there are human bite marks on the bones). Suddenly, an army helicopter appears, kidnapping Dr. Erin Granger and taking her to Masada, where an earthquake has unleashed a toxic gas and opened a route to a formerly hidden temple.  She’s accompanied by Sgt. Jordan Stone and Fr. Rhun Korza, and together they may fulfill an ancient prophecy that will open the Blood Gospel–written by Christ, in His blood. Thus starts a journey that takes the trio to Nazi hideouts in Germany, a modern-day meeting with Rasputin in St. Petersburg, and, finally, to the Vatican, all while outrunning Bathory, a follower of the demon Belial and in control of several strigoi and blaphsemeres (vampiric beasts). This is the book that readers of Anne Rice, Dan Brown, and Toyne’s “Sanctus” trilogy have been waiting for: the suspense is ratcheted up by the use of a timeline/clock at the start of each segment; the cast of characters is continually a surprise (Judas–check. Lazarus–check. Elizabeth Bathory–check.); and a cliffhanger ending will leave readers eager for Book Two.–Laura Pearle, the Center for Fiction, New York City

LOCKE, Kate. The Queen Is Dead. 352p. Orbit: Hachette. Feb. 2013. Tr $16.99. ISBN 9780316196130; Audio $24.98. ISBN 9781619693333.

Adult/High School–This follow up to God Save the Queen (Orbit, 2102), is set in a future Great Britain where a plague has turned the ruling classes (“aristos”) into werewolves or vampires who dominate humans physically as well as politically. At the start of the book, Xandra Vardan’s world is in chaos. She is still reeling from uncovering the lies she’d been fed by the people she trusted most and is trying to cope with the resulting violence. She must come to terms with the fact that not only is she a goblin (half werewolf, half vampire), but she is also  the goblin queen. Humans, who have steered clear of aristos after staging a bloody revolution many years ago, are starting to get more aggressive; they are making moves to overthrow aristos and take their society back. With another human uprising on the horizon, Xandra is being pressured by multiple factions, each wanting to be chosen sole ally to the powerful goblins. On top of all of this, her beloved brother has been abducted and it is up to her to find him. Xandra’s impatience, anger, and fear have her bouncing around emotionally, but her headstrong ways and commitment to doing whatever it takes to solve her problems serve her well. The action and drama in this paranormal/mystery mashup will appeal teen fans of the genres, but they will likely engage on a deeper level with the issues of shifting identity, loyalty and trust. To fully enjoy this, read God Save the Queen first.–Carla Riemer, Claremont Middle School, CA

PLANCK, M. C. The Kassa Gambit. 288p. Tor. Jan. 2013. Tr $24.99. ISBN 978-0-7653-3092-5. LC 2012026480.

Adult/High School–Prudence Falling, captain of the tramp freighter Ulysses, drops out of node-space on a routine run to the remote farming planet of Kassa, only to discover that there is something seriously wrong. Despite the fact that everyone knows, after centuries of space travel, that humans are the only sentient beings in the universe, it appears that Kassa has been attacked by aliens. Meanwhile, when League police officer Kyle Daspar arrives, Prudence assumes he knows more than he’s telling, and Kyle (who is actually a double agent) assumes Prudence has been sent to kill him. When a Fleet ship shows up unexpectedly, both of them are suspicious. Kyle and Prudence–separately at first, and then together–attempt to find out what happened on Kassa, and who is responsible. As they hop from planet to planet, a conspiracy of epic proportions begins to be revealed, and Kyle and Pru are right in the middle of the action. Planck’s debut novel is a fast-moving tale of political intrigue and social commentary (with a little romance thrown in), told in the context of a classic space opera. The writing is awkward at times, especially in the dialogue between Pru and Kyle, but the plot carries the day. Fans of David Weber’s “Honor Harrington” series (Baen) or Lois McMaster Bujold’s “Miles Vorkosigan” books (Baen) might enjoy this quick and fun read.–Sarah Flowers, formerly of Santa Clara County Library, CA.