Verdict, No. 18

(find my judgment here)

The Lucky Ones

by Anna Godbersen

*

I miss it already.

This was a beautiful read. Godbersen is a master of language and moments. She has a way of spinning words together in such a way that you fall into this sort of dreamlike trance where the real world gets hazy and you find yourself right there with all these characters in the gilded world of the Roaring 20s. And I loved every minute.

The thing about Godbersen is she knows how to give unpredictable twists without them feeling unnatural. There were things towards the end where I was like, "Oh, yeah, duh! I totally saw that coming." But I didn't. In fact, I think I was annoyed that, as the writer in me followed along, I didn't think of it playing out that way. So it wasn't predictable, just...believable. Oh, and beautiful. So very pretty.

The thing is, quite honestly, if she was a bad writer, I would hate these books (like I hate this copycat). Because, let's face it, this is melodramatic melodrama. There is kissing, boozing, cheating, murder. And it's kind of jolting to remember that all this juicy drama happened in one summer. You're lazily flouncing along when someone suddenly says "I'm 18!" or "It's the end of one summer." And then you realize, oh yeah, all this crazy, crazy stuff happened to people barely adults in three short months. For a realist like me, that's a fact that's hard to stomach. I mean, 18 year olds shouldn't be married, shouldn't be screwing around with married men, shouldn't be deciding who they'll soar off into the sunset with. But, quite luckily, Godbersen isn't a bad writer. Au contraire! She is definitely one of the most talented YA writers I've ever read, and...for all the frilly silliness, I love everything she writes. Especially this.

After a sumptuous debut with The Luxe, she has found her footing and finalized her voice. This was the perfect combination of witty melodrama and soft moments; of sins and sinners with heart and honesty; of sweet kisses and steamy mistakes; of final decisions and second chances. More importantly, this was the perfect final installment of bitter and sweet. 

Yes, someone dies. Someone's married. Someone's famous. And the epilogue could be one of my favorites ever. Somehow, Godbersen makes this tragic, gilded tale a dreamy one. And then you find yourself lethargic and thoughtful, still sitting, still holding the book open, just staring into space and thinking about it, gauging your feelings until you wish there was just one page more.

At least that's what I did. And then I started over and read all my favorite bits again. Because that's what Godbersen does: she makes me forget reality to slip into a world I never want to leave and never really can. It might sound melodramatic, but it's a dreamy place--the pages of any Godbersen novel. This series is one of my favorites, and this book is the best of them. So read it--but start from the beginning. 

It's a very good place to start.

Verdict, No. 17

 (find judgment here)

 Cloud Atlas

by David Mitchell

"What I wouldn't give now for a never-changing map of the ever-constant ineffable? To possess, as it were, an atlas of clouds."
*

In one word: wow. It's the first book where I agree with every back cover quote. And I found myself stopping to pencil down favorite bits and lines for future reference. And, by the end, all I wanted to do was read it again.

 It was that good. It was everything, and it was amazing.

Cloud Atlas is a beautiful tale of human resilience and what makes someone good. Is it something taught or experienced, or realized at the most dire time? It's a story within a story within a story within a story, and at the heart of it is a tale of a man unknowingly influenced by all the highlighted lives before him. It's interesting to imagine what impact a life has, and it's beautiful to see them ricochet between stories here. And if you wonder how Mitchell can pull off six stories in one book--ranging from nineteenth century letters of a sailor to a post-apocalyptic man unaware of what the world was--don't you worry about it. He is a genius of storytelling and characterization. Every story feels different, every character feels real, and every twist makes me want to read it over and over again.

It really was more than a book, more than an escape--it's a second life, and it claims you whole. I found myself mesmerized for hours, absorbed by each character and each varying story, landscape, lesson. Even for its heart--that being one of redemption and reincarnation, second chances--it never came off as preachy. Just metaphysical. And I loved the...wonderment.  It was astounding. Breathtaking. Intoxicating. Liberating.

Unforgettable.

I loved it. It's a new favorite, and I don't see it being replaced any time soon.  

Verdict, No. 14

(find the judgment here)
Blood Red Road

by Moira Young

"If you know how to read the stars, you can read the story of people's lives."

*

This is quite possibly the best book I have ever read.

It sounded so cliche, you know? Girl goes to save a sibling, gets caught in a government upheaval, meets a handsome stranger, makes tough-as-nail friends. It sounded like everything I've read before. I was sure it would suck. I mean, even after I bought it and it came in the mail, I didn't touch it for another day. And I just thought I'd read a couple chapters before bed, maybe like it a little. But it amazed me. Literally and in every sense. I talk about needing to be "wow"ed? This is it, folks: it's the best book I've read in a long, long time.

And I know this blog hasn't exactly...set me up as a critic of great literature. If I'm not touting Anna Godbersen, I'm suddenly in love with Delirium. But all those books--those frilly, melodramatic obsessions--they're guilty pleasures. They're great and I still stand by the writing, but...they're not everything I read, and I know they aren't the best. But maybe I've already lost some of my credibility because of it. Maybe you all roll your eyes at my choices; maybe you snort at my praise for certain books; maybe you doubt my ability to really know good literature. And maybe you do all that with good reason. But I have to ask, if you're going to listen to me on just one thing, hear me now: read Blood Red Road.

I might absolutely adore the Luxe series and I might have been blinded by Delirium, but Blood Red Road wasn't just a silly read I giggled over; this was a book that made me excited.

Remember reading Hunger Games for the first time? I came across it before it was a big deal (at least before I knew it was a big deal) and I was obsessed with it. Completely absorbed it in just a few hours and then I jumped up and down and told everyone to read it too. And people are saying this is as good as that. But it's not: it's better. It's crazy, and it's crazy-good.

Instead of some whiny, insipid girl you wish would just up and off herself already, thus sparing us the self-loathing (Katniss), here we have Saba. She's just a straight-up BA who don't take no BS from nobody. She's tough as nails, often...unapproachable, and willing to pretty much cut down anyone who gets in her way. Including, from time to time, her little sister. Is she perfect? Hardly. Is she beautiful? Not exactly. Is she idealistic and hoping to change the world? Actually, she's mostly selfish and very angry. But, even for all that, she's someone you can't help but root for.

I mean, for one, she doesn't become the face of a revolution just because she was clever enough to hide in some trees and sic bees on people; she doesn't spend her time manipulating the perfect boys around her who are inexplicably in love with her even though they're complete opposites; she doesn't mope and cry and consider suicide again and again. Saba is freakin' amazing, and her story is even more so. And I say it like she's real because Moira Young is great at characterizing. But, then again, Young, I quickly realized, is pretty amazing at everything: dialogue, emotions, narration, and just setting a really good scene.

There's nothing really unbelievable or awkward (...except perhaps 30-foot worms with claws. But, trust me, you buy into those pretty quick). And at least there aren't weird surgical beauty regimes or most of those sci-fi aspects often littered in dystopian fiction. But that's because this isn't dystopian. There's no dictator, no pretense of perfection. There's just the desert and the rusted remains of what they call the "wrecker" times. It's an ugly, lawless place, but Saba doesn't know anything else; she just wants to survive. It's her supporting cast that kind of pull her out of her self-absorbation. And they do it with all sorts of personalities. And, sure, people die. Lots die. There's killing all over the place. I mean, they're up against a drug lord. You have all sorts of people fighting to live and taking out anybody to do it.

But, listen. It might sound crazy--it might be crazy--but...I mean, from the first page, I was breathless. It sucked me in, zero seconds flat. It was like magic: I curled up under my covers, I flipped open to the prologue and...I was flabbergasted. In the best way imaginable. It was like my whole body went to sleep and I was just absorbed into the pages. Frankly, I'm in love. The language, the writing, the voice--whatever you call it--it bewitched me, body and soul.

And that handsome daredevil? I'd trade Peeta in for him any day of the week.

But I'm completely serious. If any of you really love reading, really love good STORIES, read this one now. I think I'm going to read it again. Right now. Cuz I just can't get enough of it. 

Verdict, No. 13

(find the judgment here)
Beautiful Days

by Anna Godbersen
*

Let me just say, this will not be a purely objective review. My Godbersen-love-affair naturally makes me a little bias. I mean, I was already smiling from the get-go. I got home, ripped it out of the package, and fell on my bed with a little giggle. And I stayed lost in it for something close to four hours. I couldn't put it down. Not because it was some tense page turner or because it had something important to say; more because it was that last breath of summer air and I was just basking in it. Honestly, I'm infatuated: I'm so caught up in how she writes, I really don't mind at all what she writes.

I sound like such a pathetic fan girl right now, but Godbersen is the only writer to never disappoint me. And we all know how easily I'm disappointed (pretty much...every book here). But I just get giddy reading Godbersen (how's that for alliteration?). And this book really was such a beautiful read. There were moments that literally took my breath away--as in completely, purely, literally: I would stop breathing just to finish without distraction.

Um, the closing scene? Beautiful.

Still, I'll try to be professional about this. Because my cynical self naturally noticed flaws (I just happened to enjoy them, wrapped up with such pretty bows). For one, you could feel the "middle book" moments--where Godbersen was introducing plot elements for a later book. I mean, I had to roll my eyes at the way....someone suddenly started to care about that...someone she left back home (Mosquito netting? Really? That set you off?). Plus there seemed to be a lot of inconsistencies--pieces of the last book that she didn't seem to care about bringing up in this one, but instead went on and introduced new side possibilities until we're all confuddled about who to cheer for and what can possibly happen next.

Clearly, the hot body guard has a thing for his friend's new wife, and said new wife isn't really up to being a wife, plus she randomly noticed the pretty boy who was featured so readily in the last book only to be mentioned once here. And there was that whole awkward, random "kiss your own reflection" moment with...someone. What? But the one other someone did finally get her break, after once again ruining that affable one with her naivety and simultaneous selfishness. Now there's some hot actor to mess with her--married, sure, but drama shall ensue because the climb to the top isn't all that easy. And the sexy pilot suddenly seemed very different. Maybe it was just me, but in the first one he seemed very confident and charming and bold; now, he's...something else--still good looking and all-intriguing (that closing scene, I'm tellin' ya) with that something-twist that gets you going all "whaaat?". But then there's still the original someone who's still so much better for that someone who's now with the pilot-someone, and she's gone all BA with this speakeasy-something which is why she'll probably be the one to die.

Drama, drama, drama. 

And I kept expecting something to go wrong; it wrapped up too nicely, too happily. There was a wedding, a kiss, a....scene. Everyone got some pretty bow on their story. Which just makes me so nervous for the next one. Plus, it's almost the depression and there's a sense of foreboding with how Godbersen writes: you know it won't end pretty, this age of boundless gluttony. It's all bound to implode in some tragic, heart-wrenching way that will most definitely leave me breathless. Literally.

It all sounds so silly, I know. But Godbersen pulls it off. I mean, these are things that just wouldn't fly in real life with normal people, but Godbersen makes it work. She pulls us into the moment till we're tipsy with the characters, starry-eyed and excited by the secretive nightlife hidden behind the city lights. We believe the characters because, even for their outlandish adventures, their reactions feel real. Godbersen doesn't blindly put two characters together just for the sake of action; she doesn't spell out everything or explain everything either, but, I mean, sometimes...life just happens. And to these girls in the last days of the Roaring 20s...life happens a lot.

Verdict, No. 10

(find the judgment here)

Delirium
by Lauren Oliver

"He is my world and my world is him and without him there is no world," p. 332
*

I hate being wrong. And I hate having to admit publicly that I'm wrong. And I hate when I let the immense amount of poor literature taint my usual optimism for books. Mostly though, I hate being wrong. And I was wrong.

Well, no, I was right: everything I said would happen pretty much happened; it was a book riddled with cliches and predictable plots. And I tried really hard to hate it--I was practically determined to write yet another scathing review condemning the world of YA lit. I mean, from the get-go, everything was stacked against it. By anyone else, it would have been a disaster. But, see, it wasn't written by anyone else. It was written by Lauren Oliver, who's deft prose always seems to transcend any traditional YA traps. At least for me.

She did it with Before I Fall (that story should have been a mess, but it was beautiful), and she does it again with Delirium. Because, honestly, it was so very pretty.

It was as if Scott Westerfeld and Anna Godberson's books got together and made a baby--that would be Delirium. That quirky combination of serious heart and thought meddled with melodramatic love affairs, capped with tantalizing characters and heart-thudding finishes. So of course I love it.

Was it world-class fiction that will go down in history as a new classic? Hardly. It was self-indulgent YA frivolousness at its best. And it was done so beautifully. There was none of the arrogance or self-important writing some YA, and especially dystopian YA, falls into. It didn't feel over-the-top or overtly melodramatic; Oliver wasn't taking it too seriously or not seriously enough. She wasn't trying to be illustrious, she wasn't trying to be either a trendsetter or a follower. She was just writing a story she wanted to tell. And it was refreshing, that lack of an ulterior motive. An author that still writes just for the love of writing!

With Oliver, I never felt like I was being jerked around, like these characters were just cut-outs of reality to further a plot and churn out sequels. Everything, every decision (well...almost every decision) felt natural. The characters felt real and their choices felt at least plausible, and that saved it. Because even though you see everything coming from a mile (or at least a few chapters) away, the characters are real enough to still care, to feel attached, to really wish the sequel was right there so you could just find out what happens next.

So, there. I was wrong.

I was wrong about it being like Twilight. Twilight is and will always be trash--the epitome of bad fiction, bad storytelling, bad characterization, bad everything. And this might not have been the epitome of perfect literature, but it was great fun. And it was wonderfully written.

I was wrong about it being mushy, because there wasn't as much of the ooey gooey love stuff as I presupposed. There were definitely some intermittent eye-roll crap (see above quote), and some what-the-is-happening moments. Did it drag? Yes. Was 400+ pages a little much? Sure. But it wasn't overwhelming.

And I was wrong about the world not mattering. It was and will be very important to the story and the characters, which is just grand. The one problem was I couldn't entirely buy into the concept. I don't understand why anyone would so suddenly and so obsessively get rid of love. It doesn't seem like a normal power-play for the government. Especially not how they talk it up as deadly. And that is never explained.

But I could forgive all that and anything else because of one thing and one alone: I am a sucker for Oliver's writing. Because even is she sticks to the most cliche story lines, it always feels like something entirely new. True, some bits felt too melodramatic (it is a forbidden love story, after all), but so much of it felt alive. Like I was there. So whatever weaknesses in the contrived plot, characters, or setting--and there were some--her writing lulled me into a pleasant dream that I couldn't mind, no matter the flaws.

Verdict, No. 4

There was no love triangle! A first for me in YA fiction for a long time. I was nervous for a second--one character was obviously dying (oh, poor choice of words. I apologize) for a love triangle. But the main character, Tris, wasn't having any of it.

Maybe that's why I liked her so much. Or maybe it was because she was an actual human with flaws and strengths. Man, did she have strength. That, gentleman, is what we call a heroine. She wasn't damsel in distress; she wasn't some helpless bimbo. On the other hand, it wasn't some nasty cynic who needed softening, or some bitter barbie with daddy issues. She was nice some times and mean the others; she liked some people and hated the rest; she got jealous, she got defensive; she could be super strong and super scared. So it was nice to know that someone out there (Veronica Roth, I'm talking to you) knows what a human looks like.

Same with the rest of the characters. They weren't flat, they weren't stock characters (except maybe the diabolical villain with too much ego. But, hey, we can't all win). And since the characters felt real, the story became believable.

And the love story. Oh, I was so thrilled to see an actual relationship form. It wasn't some crazy I-hate-you-so-much-we're-bound-to-make out. Nor was it well-I-guess-since-we're-the-main-characters-we'll-have-to-hook-up. There was build up, there was confusion, there was chemistry beyond the sexual tension. And there was pay off. Without getting nasty.

So I liked the characters. The plot? Some of it was extreme, to say the least. I found myself rereading portions to see if I'd missed something or was this actually happening. And three-fourths of the book was exposition--setting up characters and relationships that you know will fall apart and change in the next few. The main problem was the climax: after such a Tris-centric book, the sudden world involvment made a lot of the exposition feel trivial. I found myself annoyed with Tris as everything went wrong because I was like, "Hello! You should have been working on saving the world, hero, instead of getting another tattoo." But I can't really complain. Roth kept me engaged and she did it through the characters, no the plot. Which, for me, was a refreshing change.

As the first in the series, she actually had a conclusion. Which was a relief. Because, frankly, I'm a little tired of series. Is there a stand-alone YA book out there anymore? I don't think so. But Roth gave a book with a plot, including a conclusion. I mean, it wasn't all happily-ever-after (there's still a world to save), but Roth didn't fall into the trap of we must destroy everything so the reader will come back for more. So I enjoyed it, I did. It wasn't perfect and there were some just really stupid things going on. And I hope the major villain/issue is fleshed out more because right now I don't really care. But it was entertaining and a little more than satisfying.

I mean, a dystopian novel that isn't self-impressed? I'll take it.

Verdict, No. 3

Play Off
It was everything it said it would be: a magical romance set in the modern world. And everything worked out just as promised: a (freaky) pregnancy, a friend-turned-lover (is it a spoiler to say they really did get married? Not since it happened pretty much immediately), and a devilish villain who just turned super creepy.

I don't know if I should take the credit for being so dead-on, seeing as it practically explained it all on the cover--but I will. Because, as predicted, it was about the characters. It was introspective for all of them and what was happening with the plot didn't matter so much as their reactions and opinions. And that really was what made it an enjoyable read.

The plot was crazy; if it was stripped down to mere rising and falling action, it would be way too much magic to appreciate. The characters were its saving grace. They felt real and likable enough to want to root for them. So even for all its predictability, it still felt refreshing and even, just a little bit, realistic.  

Final Score
Predictability: It told you everything but it save the heart of it (the characters) for the reader to get absorbed in. The risk of spilling the beans paid off, and the story was both original and fun with the characters both realistic and romantic.
Power: It was her ability to characterize that stole the show. Everyone felt real without being cliche or stereotypical, or too extreme in their originality. They were mostly people you would expect to be friends, and they all made sense together so you could care. Which was nice and maybe unexpected for a YA novel about magic.
Proposal: I'd recommend it to any fans of the song, any fans of strong characters, any fans of subtle magic, any fans of romance or light (very light) thrillers. I'd pretty much recommend it to anyone who wasn't looking to take things too seriously. This is a book you're meant to disappear into, not obsess seriously over.

Verdict, No. 1

Well, for my first go-around, I think I did fairly well. Starting off--those first few chapters--I felt like I would be way off. I even considered rewriting my Judgment so as to avoid any shame or embarrassment. But it came around. 

Play Off

First, the main character--the engaged one. There wasn't a love triangle so much, but there was a bad boy. One very inappropriate for a girl of her situation. And it is quite the scandal.

Concerning the cousin? She was actually my favorite character--much more solid than the younger, silly girls. And I was right: there was definitely an old flame unwilling to let go. But it didn't seem so dramatic here; I think it will play more into the next books. 

The best friend (a horrid girl who I hated from the get-go) was definitely the cause of all the drama. But she wasn't so quiet--I was wrong there. No, she was just a desperate slut doing desperately stupid things (like getting in with the fiance. Right again). 

They all fell apart. And the cousin and the main girl did become comrades by the end. There was a blonde with fierce blue eyes, but everyone falls in love with him--even the reader. One thing I didn't expect: the amount of drama inflicted by other characters, not any of the three girls. And Larkin seems to be taking this more seriously than I thought, with more substantial drama and less cat fights. 

Final Score

Predictability: It is a YA book and story lines tend to be recycled, yet Larkin worked well with the stereotypes, freshening them up with some unexpected daring. 

Power: It's been compared to Anna Godbersen's Bright Young Things for good reason. But, I must hand it to Larkin. She seemed well aware of the competition and wrote accordingly, avoiding the scandalous melodrama Godberson so brilliantly spins, instead taking the more serious route. She actually focuses on some very un-pretty parts of the romanticized time and there were some very weighty subjects brought up. It only makes me more interested in seeing where she goes with this the web she's entangled all her character's in. 

Proposal: Read it, if you like fast-paced love affairs with a darker side, or seedy joints populated by pretty people. 

Now, can I just say, one of my MAJOR problems is actually with the cover itself: I just don't get it. In context, it doesn't work; I couldn't pair the girl with any of the characters. For starters, all the girls had bobs. And were much more scantily clad. So who that girl is, I don't know, and I definitely don't know why she's the cover girl.