Ravenous Bookshelf

Rating: 4 / 5 stars

Prince Aleksandar is on the run. The not-quite-legitimate son of Archduke Franz Ferdinand and his love-matched spouse Sophia, Aleksandar is a bright, curious young man - who is left bereft and fugitive after his parents are assassinated and the brewing political tensions explode into the Great War. Pursued by the Germans, who want to lock him up and remove him as a political threat to their march across Europe, Aleksandar must flee in the night in a Cyklop Stormwalker - you know, those walking war machines that every major royal family had in the backyard in those days.

Oh, wait...

Meanwhile, Deryn Sharp has entered the recruits of the British Air Service, and her anxieties are in order of: a) making sure no one figures out she's a girl b) beating the tar out of all the other recruits by showing the commanders her natural flying ability and c) not plunging to her death from the platform swinging under the tentacles of an increasingly twitchy Huxley ascender -- you know, those biologically-engineered military craft that are basically giant jellyfishes filled with helium (and are a favorite for scouting missions).

Hang on...

This is World War One through the looking glass, where the sides aren't just Allies and Central Powers but Clankers and Darwinists -- the split falling between those nations who put their faith in the machine versus those who have chosen to massage Nature into organically growing their weapons and tools.

This is Way Cool.

Westerfeld does world building like no other, and the chapters are studded with some truly beautiful Victorian-esque line drawings that really bring the universe to life - it's one thing to imagine the Leviathan, the massive British biological warship that's both giant flying whale and a great floating jungle ecosystem all at once -- but it's even better to see it on the page, rising majestically through the clouds.

I'm not generally a fan of 'war' novels, but the adventure action of this novel works for me because of Westerfeld's focus on his main characters, who are both unique and engaging. Stereotypes could have easily cropped up; it would have been simple to make Aleksandar into the Spoiled Royal Brat Tossed Among Commoners, but instead we get a thoughtful, responsible young man who's acutely aware of his own privileged upbringing as he struggles valiantly to adapt to a harsh reality. And Deryn is my second favorite Tough-As-Nails female narrator in recent YA lit -- first prize goes to Jacky Faber of L.A. Meyer's Bloody Jack series. Deryn may be out to prove something, but she doesn't let her swaggering get in the way of her sense, and she also sidesteps the tired Ice Queen road to emotional self-defense.

So, lots of action, dazzling illustrations, and a creative new twist on history that's definitely worth the price of admission (in my case, free - oh thank you, library books).

Rating: 3.75 / 5 stars

Charlotte, aka Charlie, is not particularly happy when we meet her. It's more than the stretchy top currently mangling her 'spoffs' -- it's her entire life situation. She's fourteen, a sports maniac (like everyone else at New Avalon Sports High) who just wants to get on the basketball team and maybe link with the new hot boy, Steffie -- but her stupid parking fairy keeps ruining her life.

Yes, a parking fairy. While her friend Rochelle gets a clothes fairy that makes everything look perfect on her (not to mention discounted 75%), and her mortal enemy Fiorenze has an 'every boy fancies me' fairy that turns all eligible males into drooling love zombies, Charlie has been saddled with the 'charm' of always being able to find a parking spot. Except that she doesn't have a car, and can't drive. Instead, she's constantly getting 'borrowed' by friends and family who are eager to make the newest concert or have a hassle-free supermarket run -- absolutely zero fun for Charlie herself.

So she's trying to ditch her fairy, any way she can. There's a number of theories as to how, ranging from the unsanitary (never bathing) to the unhealthy (fasting, odd diets). Charlie has been trying the slow-but-steady approach by walking everywhere and therefore starving her fairy of the chance to work its mojo. Of course, this makes her late to everything, which earns her constant demerits, which gets her kicked off sports teams, which makes her parents upset, which threatens her social life and therefore her growing relationship with Steffie...

If only her stupid fairy would leave, this would all be solved!

Larbalestier gets major points for originality. She has not only created a nifty world where invisible (and some say, nonexistent) fairies fiddle with the course of everyday life, but she's also set the novel in a city where fame is paramount and schools are specialized to the point of regimentation. At Charlie's school, failure to intake the proper amount and proportion of calories earns demerits, since proper nutrition is essential to one's sports performance. Classes are all sports-oriented, from the PR assignments about managing bad press after a drug enhancement scandal to the Statistics sessions calculating batting averages. There's a fine line between passion and obsession, and while Charlie seems happy with her life, Larbalestier explores some of the tensions of this performance-oriented society in interesting ways.

Within this vibrant world, there's lots of catchy slang terms to enjoy, and Charlie's voice is fresh and engaging throughout. A fun, light read, told in diary format a la Bridget Jones, but with far more substance and style than the typical 'chick lit for teens.'

Rating: 5/5 stars.

Ever have a book that you struggled to stop reading, because the decreasing width of pages on one side sent you into the panicked awareness that the story was going to end?

Fire was that book for me. I love Cashore's writing so much; I still haven't figured out how she manages to wrap such a rich world around her reader in very simple, elegant prose, but I fall under her spell every time I pick up her books. At least I was prepared this time, and took advantage of a snowy evening and a nice roaring fire to start savoring Fire -- I managed to stretch it out for half a week, with breaks for Real Life and necessary winter chores (like gathering more firewood).

I had read Graceling when it came out in hardcover, and I remember a similar experience of begrudging college classes and assignments for their piddling claims on my attention. Fire doesn't cover the same main characters and it's set in a different time and place, but there are some connecting threads that naturally tie the two novels together. Thematically, they are similar in that both feature strong female characters who possess frightening abilities -- in Graceling, Katsa is Graced with the ability to kill (pretty much anything, with or without weapons), and has been forced into service as the King's appointed thug. She rebels against being made into a royal murderer, even as she wonders if that is her true nature; is she doomed to be a walking weapon, a danger to all around her?

In Fire, the main character lives in a kingdom full of monsters -- creatures made unnatural by their stunning beauty and abilities -- and she herself is a hybrid, born of a human mother and a monster father. Fire is endowed with captivating beauty and the ability to manipulate others' minds, both traits inherited from her breathtakingly cruel and compelling father, Lord Cansrel.

Advisor to the King, Lord Cansrel urges his daughter to revel in her powers as he abuses his own; but when the royal household collapses in debauchery and ruin, the entire kingdom spirals towards civil war as rival lords begin making claims. From her homestead in the far north, Fire had assumed that she was irrelevant to these wider events, but she finds herself drawn into the war of the Dells along with her childhood friend, Archer. She not only has to decide her place in the coming battle, but also confront what using her powers will mean to herself and those she loves.

Cashore's characters are sheer works of art by themselves. I loved Katsa for her fierceness and her fears; Fire captured my heart in a different way, painfully alienated by the illusions of her appearance and damaged by her father's twisted love, yet somehow still struggling to protect and connect to others when it would be so simple and easy to shut herself away. No one is allowed to be simply a stock character in Cashore's world; they are all complex, sometimes infuriating, and sometimes awe-inspiring.

Really, a rough synopsis can't do this justice, so I'll have to ask you to trust me and read this book. It's far too nuanced and beautiful to slap labels on it, and trying to sum it up will miss the entire experience of reading it - the sheer delight of falling completely into Cashore's fascinating world.

And while you're at it, pick up Graceling as well, if you haven't read it yet. You can thank me later.

Rating: 4/5 stars.

Think you know about unicorns? Those adorable, dewey-eyed mythological beings with the shiny rainbow hooves and fluffy tails?

Think again.

Astrid Llewelyn knows the truth: unicorns are not cute. They are not cuddly. They are vicious killing machines with slavering fangs and razor-sharp horns, and they'd like nothing more than to impale you and rip your flesh from your bones. Or so Astrid's mother has always taught her; along with her family lineage, of course -- as a descendant of Alexander the Great, Astrid is part of a long line of female unicorn hunters. However, she only retains this birthright (and the immunity to unicorn venom that it includes) so long as she remains a virgin.

So of course we must begin with some Macking in the Backyard with a Boy, And The Consequences. Astrid has long cultivated a tolerant dismissal of her mother's unique brand of crazy (researching Killer Unicorns is hardly a sane career choice), so she's a bit dismayed when a unicorn charges out of the woods and gores her boyfriend.

I promise not to reveal more. But it appears that the unicorns are back, and Astrid is shipped to Italy to join the ancient order of unicorn hunters, who are re-establishing themselves in their ancient abbey with news of the Resurgence.

A smart, fun twist on the typical mythology with a great cast of teen girls-turned-warriors (who each deal with their Chosen-ness in different ways). The book moved along nicely, with bloody battles relieved by Astrid's developing relationship with Giovanni (The New Boy Interest, but with Actual Depth), along with some really pertinent questions about feminism and morality -- in the modern world, how do you justify cloistering a bunch of young girls and training them to kill? What rights does one have as a huntress? And how do ideals of 'purity' and other constraints interact with sexual independence?

I love that Peterfreud's characters debate these points in the story, in very intelligent ways -- these young women are both personally and socially self-aware in a refreshing way (instead of the more typical 'self-absorbed teen' model). Astrid is an aspiring doctor; the ancient order of unicorn hunters developed a Remedy that could cure all disease, one that has murky links with the unicorns themselves. How far should she go to unlock this secret? Does her work as hunter make her into a kind of poacher, or even murderer?

Astrid's voice is fresh and compelling, and the cloisters are an intriguing backdrop for her adventures, as she bonds with and/or alienates the other girls in the huntress group. An engaging read along the lines of Graceling, with a heroine you can cheer for as you see her battle for her own definition and mission in the world -- girlpower without the preaching, this is really best summed up in the following equation:

Killer Unicorns + Kickass Girls = Total Awesome.

Rating: 4/5 stars

For a little nonfiction blurb, we have Tori Murden McClure's A Pearl in the Storm: How I Found My Heart in the Middle of the Ocean. It's an account of McClure's attempts to become the first woman to row a boat across the Atlantic. Yes, row. Alone. Across the Atlantic.

This is more than slightly crazy.

But McClure comes off as a remarkably sensible individual; sharp, erudite, and no stranger to the harshness of life. She structures her narrative in the model of an epic quest, with the woman taking the role of knight-errant, off to slay her dragon -- which, in McClure's case, takes the unexpected form of helplessness, a feeling that has plagued her in various guises through her life. She sets her chapters as daily entries tracking her progress across the waves, while drifting back into reminiscing about the struggles and people who have shaped her up to that point.

The book has a lyrical, meditative feeling but with a hard-edged practicality and some riveting descriptions as McClure is caught up in tempests both physical and mental - think The Hatchet, not Eat, Pray, Love. Women can go on quests and conquer challenges just as ably as men, but McClure soon discovers that our own individual paths rarely fit the expected mold. Spinning out a journey of revelation, McClure has some beautiful insights to share along with her varied and impressive life experience, and she invites the reader along to join in the adventure.

Let It Snow: Three Holiday Romances
By: John Green, Maureen Johnson, Lauren Myracle

Rating: 3.5/5 stars

I am not normally one for short story collections, but in the spirit of the holidays I picked up this ensemble piece, featuring three YA authors I've enjoyed. All three tales involve Christmas, romantic hijinks, and a huge blizzard, and are nicely interlinked -- the characters in each cross each others' paths in entertaining yet not-too-contrived ways.

Johnson kicks off the trilogy with Jubilee, a young lady who, in a series of unfortunate holiday
events, finds herself on a train to Graceland on Christmas Eve, with two parents in jail due to a Christmas toy village riot and no response from her busy boyfriend (and it happens to be their anniversary). And then the train gets stuck in a giant snowdrift, and Jubliee meets Jeb, and then the cheerleaders arrive...

The story was light and unpredictable and features a Waffle House (so I highly approved) -- and Jubilee handles the growing insanity with admirable aplomb.

The fun continues with John Green and Tobin, the Duke, and JP -- the Duke is actually a (totally amazing) girl, while Tobin narrates, explaining how all three of them are called to the Waffle House in the middle of the blizzard. You see, Tobin's friend Keun works at said Waffle House. And the above-mentioned plague of cheerleaders? Arrive at the WH. Obviously it is a boy's One True Dream to find himself snowed in at a Waffle House with an entire squad of bored cheerleaders. The only question is: who will supply the game of Twister?

This begins an epic race through the snowy streets and darn if this wasn't my favorite story; John Green beats all for smart, snappy teens (if a little too conscious of their own brainpower, sometimes), and his Wacky Happenings are lovingly described in hilarious detail.

Myracle brings us home with the magical story of Addie, who is most definitely not in the Christmas spirit, what with suffering a wrenching breakup that is pretty much totally her fault -- but she has her own adventure involving Starbucks, a teacup pig, and quite possibly a Christmas miracle. Not the strongest story of the bunch (Addie was self-absorbed to annoyance; a flaw that Myracle's characters often seem to struggle with) but it wrapped things up nicely, which is not an easy feat.

Overall: A light, frothy Christmas treat, tasty as sugar cookies and hot chocolate. This was my first seasonal short story piece, and I was pleasantly impressed -- do you have your own favorite holiday/cold-weather-warm-heart tales? I'd love to get more suggestions!

Wishing you all safety, warmth, family and fun for the holidays!

Rating: 2/5 stars.

When I set out to write this review, I had trouble remembering the title -- was it Eternal? Abiding? Undying? Something to do with lasting forever...

Sadly, the book was equally forgettable. Take every Gothic cliche you've ever stumbled across on a stormy night in the churchyard, toss in some diary entries from a Ghostly Presence and stir in all the angst-ridden spices of a Doomed Teen Love, and you end up with something pretty bland and predictable. After The Splendor Falls, it almost felt like an object lesson in all the ways a supernatural-digging-up-the-past while exiled-to-a-strange-place story can fall flat.

The heroine is banished to Wyldcliffe Abbey School for Young Girls after her grandmother and primary guardian suffers a stroke (her father is off on military duty). The school, an appropriately gloomy Castle On the Moors type, just seems to be haunted -- by a redheaded girl who strikingly resembles Evie herself.

Le gasp! Of course, Evie doesn't even make it to the school ("That cursed place!" the cabdriver hilariously --er, ominously -- snarls) before having an Eerie Encounter, with a young man on a dark horse who knocks her down in the rain and is terribly rude and yet mysteriously appealing...

Oh, I can't go on.

I didn't hate the book. I was just totally indifferent. To pretty much everything, from the prose to the characters to the themes (women harnessing magic = girl power! Evil controlling man who wants the magic = thinly veiled metaphor for male oppression!).

If you want to be inundated with Gothic sensationalism, read a Wilkie Collins. If you want a Doomed Romance on the Moors, read Wuthering Heights. Even better, check out Jane Austen's Northanger Abbey, which takes all those stereotypes and gives them a firm tweak on the nose. Plus, you'll get a great romance with characters you'll care about (oh, Henry Tilney, please do smirk in my direction!). But unless you've never before encountered a Mystery on the Moors with a Young Girl and Shadowy Male Figure, you can give this book a pass on the shelves.