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. 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. 11

(find the judgment here)

XVI

by Julia Karr

This book is entirely forgettable. Literally and in every way. Three days, and I've already thrown any and all recollection of it away. So I guess I'm really not in any position to review it. But I'll try.

I remember the beginning was good. The build-up. (And I remember I was dead on about the plot twisting at the 50-page mark, because I never forget being right like that). And I remember there was indeed a complete-opposite best friend (didn't really see that end coming though). And there was something close to a love triangle for all of three pages before Karr decided, without reason, that that didn't matter anymore. Introduce hot Asian chick, pass off ex-lover to her, and everyone's happy-go-lucky again. Because these characters are devoid of any realism. They are fake cut-outs that you're never given any reason to care about.

Oh, yeah. I definitely remember that.

This novel was weak in every way. It fell into every common YA trap: it introduces an edgy concept, only to never really follow through with it; it turns from focusing on the world to zooming in on the relationship status of the main character; it doesn't worry about characterization but about reaching the next plot point; it relies on cliches to create a world that even the writer didn't understand completely; and there is no point to it. You think with 1984 as the grandad to the dystopian novel people would understand it wasn't just about a gritty world--it was about relating it back to our now and making the characters stand out in some real sense.

Nope. Nothing like that here.

And I really did start out liking it. The first few pages were interesting because of the world. And then Karr bailed on that to tell us how much her two main characters were in love (we won't even get into the ultimate cliche of how they actually had no reason to be in love. At all). So by that 50-page mark, I felt betrayed. None of it mattered. The world was too broad for the narrow focus she spun; the characters were too shallow for the depth she tried to throw them to. And it wasn't even well-written.

Everything about it felt forced. The writing, the characters, the world. There was nothing real about it, and so I just put it down and moved on. Because, on every level, I just didn't care.

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. 9

 (find the judgment here)

If you had asked me yesterday what the most disappointing sequel I've ever read was, I would have said Mockingjay. Today? I might just have to go with this book.

After a promising debut, Jillian Larkin seems to have forgotten how to write. Maybe she fell and hit her head, maybe she took a writing class from Stephanie Meyer. But something happened, because reading this was pure drudgery. And it's not like I was expecting some grand, award-winning story. I just thought, I dunno, that there would be some sense of continuity. So much of this novel failed to make sense. It was a complete and utter disaster.

First, it was the same exact story. Only, she rotated the characters. So instead of hating Lorraine, Clara becomes the annoying one who ruins everything good in inexplicable ways. She goes completely haywire. Lorraine is set up like Clara was in the first: she's in a new city, trying to prove herself while simultaneoulsy find herself. And Gloria becomes stale. She, and her storyline, were completely forgettable (don't even get me started on that reunion at the end. Talk about mood swings). And I guess Larkin was going through a bad break-up or something, because she hated men in this one.

Which brings me to point two: for a series that started as a tryst-ridden, breezy-romantic story with a darker side, now it's gone ultra-feminist for no apparent reason. The characterization from the first is made void in this one. Every character is suddenly an inexplicably different person. Marcus is suddenly close-minded and dull; Vera is suddenly sweet and even approachable; all the girls change roles as previously mentioned. It's just a catastrophe. As if Larkin wanted to write a completely new story. Well, then she shouldn't have made it a series following the same people doing the same things in the same settings.

I suppose if this were a separate novel, or if maybe I read this one first--I suppose then it might not have been so bad. Except for the writing (Seriously? Was the first one this bad? Or was I just less of a snob then?). I might have enjoyed it on some level (probably not, actually). But the real problem here is that it is a sequel. It's a follow-up and it's a prequel to the next. Yet Larkin spends this whole book taking apart what was built up in the first (mostly), and I no longer care what happens to them. I feel betrayed.

I feel like she lured us with a honey-coated story of glamor and intrigue and indelicacies only to suddenly snap at us with this men-suck tirade. After a torrid tale of forbidden romance and will they/won't they, it becomes all work and no play. The girls are boring, the boys are dull, and the "drama" with the mob isn't really that dramatic at all. Now I can't trust Larkin's ability to spin a serial like this. I'm afraid to attach to any of the characters now because maybe she'll just twist 'em about in the next one too.

A quote on the cover--the only quote, and by some nobody too--says it's "the dishiest." No, not really. Not at all. It's dry and it's boring and too self-important, whereas the last was merely self-indulgent. She puts her characters and her story into a blender, along with any credibility she may have had as a writer. Then she adds a dash of new and unlikable characters, a splash of sudden and unresolved twists. Finally, with a violent edge, she dices up the charm of the first, throws in some all-men-are-cads, and rips out the cattiness and any fun of the first. She turns it on and watches it churn into trite nonsense with, I imagine, only the snidest smile. Ding! It's done. The result? A catastrophic and epic fail with no real explanation.

No, scratch that. The explanation is that Larkin wanted a different, edgy story. But she betrays her foundation, and her fan base, to get it. And, trust me, it doesn't pay off.

Verdict, No. 7

 (find the judgment here)

 Well, I got what I paid for.

Books are just becoming more and more disappointing. Really, though, it was exactly what it said it would be: a love story. With a love triangle gone haywire. I just didn't expect it to be so…uneventful.

I was pretty much dead-on with the judgment (about the love square with a best friend, old boyfriend, and the bad boy) and that made me feel good about myself. But I quickly discovered there was no real plot to follow. It was just a classic story of girl-breaks-head, girl-meets-boy, girl-meets-other-boy, girl-meets-another-boy, girl-chooses-boy, girl-chooses-wrong-boy, girl-chooses-right-boy. Predictable? Definitely. Believable? Sometimes. Entertaining? Not exactly.

The best I can say is that Gabrielle Zevin definitely knew her protagonist. As a character, she made sense. Most of the time. And I loved the best friend. I was laughing out loud in the beginning over his goofy antics and his and the protagonist’s natural back and forth. In fact, I could believe everything about the main character and the sidekick best friend. It was the bad boy new guy that threw me off. The major emotional baggage he carried—didn’t see that one coming. And her original boyfriend felt very flat, dry, dull, irksome. He was just there to be there. Some sort of tie to her past. But that’s just it: her past was the part of her that didn’t make sense. The version of her hinted at in the beginning, before she lost her memory—the calorie counter happy to be popular—didn’t make since in the new-self context. And it was never explained. Plus the popular/shallow side versus the yearbook/dorkie side versus the damaged/mysterious side was never really explained or pulled together in any way. She was just who she was according to who she was with. And that is what eventually…well, ruined the story.

The first half of the novel was definitely better than the second. The second dragged with the weight of all this lovey-dovey, daddy issues stuff. As a teen romance dramedy, it went off the beaten path. Which could have paid off, but here the whole piece just floundered. Halfway through, I was no longer excited by the will-they-won’t-they. It was obvious who she would end up with—who she should end up with—but who’d she’d choose first. But I can usually put up with predictable fiction, only here there was no pay off. No point in caring, no point in remaining attached. There was no reason to her rhyme, so the say. The story fizzled, the plot arch disappeared, and all there was was a girl fighting the inevitable in a dull sort of way. It wasn't necessarily bad, it just wasn't that good.

Verdict, No. 6

(find the judgment here)

This was a simple book (to put it kindly), so this will be a simple review. Mostly because I don’t want to spend more time on this review than I did feeling involved in the story. That means I have like…three minutes to write this.

So. Three reasons I didn’t like The Compound?

One: The characters made no sense. A mother willing to poison her husband but not willing to stand up to him about killing babies? A little girl who talks in a British accent because she spent her childhood watching Mary Poppins? A step-sister who is simultaneously emo, a classical dancer, and a weeping romantic? A man smart enough to make BILLIONS but crazy enough to consider locking a family in a compound a fun family vacation people would pay for? And then a boy who truly hates life, who’s supposed to be super evil, yet finds it in himself to love his opposite brother and pull a 180 in less than a day?

Sorry, but I just can’t buy it.

Two: The plot made no sense. A compound as a resort function? Really? Sorry to sort of spoil the ending, but the “explanation” is just so lame. The climatic reveal is just a what-the-crap-was-that-person-thinking moment. And I’m still confused on what the father’s intentions were with the “supplements” and then the cloning. I’m still reeling from how far Bodeen expects us to suspend reality.

Three: The finale made no sense. And for those still hoping/willing/wanting to read it, I won’t go into it. But just trust me. It made no sense.

If any of you have seen the film Knowing…think of that ending…and then just don’t read this book because it’s even worse.

Really, though, there were some exciting moments. Some twenty pages towards the end—with the puzzle and the pieces all coming together—were all entertaining to read. It was fast-paced, edge-of-your-seat stuff. But then it just…ended. For such a long, tortuous build-up, no rising action/falling action made the ending worth it. It all felt too easy, too obvious, and so boring.

Verdict, No. 8

find the judgment here

The cover uses buzz words like "haunting," "tender," "honest." I mean, look at that girl: doesn't she seem desperate for closure? Or at least for spinning around in great, beautiful circles? It seems like it should be about redemption. They even describe it as some great revelation on loss and love and moving past and moving on. Sounds real moving, doesn't it? To be honest, though, I felt uncomfortable reading it. It was trying trying too hard. All those busy words, happy-feely worlds? LaCour was determined to fulfill them all, and that was just too much to manage in 250 pages or less.

It was as if LaCour threw an entire season of an ABC Family drama in a blender and then dumped it all on the rather-innocuous narrator. There was too much happening at once. Every teenage stereotype and cliche was introduced and swiftly brushed over. All that was missing was a calorie-counter struggling with an eating disorder. It felt messy, trite, dull. Even the narrator seemed bored. There was no journey, no moving forward. There was just jumping from scene to scene, each chapter sounding more and more like a bad public service announcement.

Don't cut yourself, it says. Don't have sex with strangers in seedy parks. Don't ignore your parents. Don't judge people. Don't suddenly take off your shirt and make out to feel better. Don't not talk about it.

Do build a tree house with your bare hands.

It was dizzying, reading it. It was excessive. I almost think it would have played out better on television, that the characters would have made more sense in a serial where various eccentricities and unfinished story lines could have played out, all while dramatic music purrs in the background. As is, the novel fails to impress. There were scenes. Snippets. But nothing tied them together. And most of it never played out.

Like the snotty queen bee who had a couple useless interactions with the main character. Or the friend of a friend of her boyfriend who suddenly shared a private moment with her at the end that just made no sense. Or the fact that her new friend's a lesbian, and that matters to everyone in the beginning but not later. Then there's the teacher's strange and overwrought version of mourning. And how her parent's handle her. Or the suicide's sibling (I think it was) suddenly showing up to ask about music. The suicide's parent's hug that lasts an entire page. There's the random bad girl at school she hangs out with for two pages. Or the other random girl she gets jealous of when she sees her with her new/ex/old/new friend. How she knows how to build a tree house. How her boyfriend doesn't know this key fact. How they all brush over revelations in little snippets of dialogue that just lead into another hasty kiss. There's the production of Romeo and Juliet. The old theater. The old theater being torn down. The million cups of coffee. The photography. The driving. The making out shirtless. Even the journal.

Rest assured, for all that, there is no pay off. If it's confusing sounding, be sure it's even worse reading it. Nothing was ever fleshed out. So much was never explained. I never knew why I should care. If it was just LaCour's way of setting a realistic scene, it backfired. I've never trudged through something that felt so entirely contrived. Even the main plot point--the suicide due to depression and the journal that reveals it--felt flat, unimportant, unexplained. I wasn't satisfied. It just fell together and...then it ended. It wasn't sad; it was mostly disturbing. And I was bored.

A novel wasn't the right form for this story to take. It was so poorly done from start to finish that it can't even settle for being a disappointment. That suggests good expectations and hopes that were just never met. But, no, this book was no only completely unsatisfying, it was a disaster.I threw it in the trash, actually. Because, for three bucks, that's exactly where it belongs.

No wonder kids hate to read.

Review, No. 4

Sam is perfect, popular. And then she dies in a car crash. Only she wakes up again to that last day, living it seven times over, determined to save herself. But maybe it's not her who needs saving.

This is Oliver's first novel, which is astounding, really, for how well done it is, how perfectly she captures the characters and makes a tired plot ploy somehow suddenly original. It is...mature in the sense that it follows a far-from-perfect teenager angry at her death and having to face it again and again, without real consequence. Predictably, she spends a day doing anything--and I mean anything. It got a little uncomfortable, but never graphic. There there is swearing and drinking littered throughout the book, but it makes everything feel real.

Oliver makes us feel whatever her narrator, Sam, is feeling. From that first day, when she's still alive and a totally snotty HS queen bee, to the last night where she finally realizes what life counts for--I followed each step, felt every emotion. The confusion of waking up, the frustration of not just dying, the desperation of wanting to live, and the peace of understanding, Oliver's story is powerful, even intoxicating at times.

Though the first half is hard to get through--with her still far from fixing things, still ruining hers and others lives day after day--the second half takes a perfect turn. It's a perfect journey to the end. For the last three "days," I was completely breathless, watching the tortured Sam finally figure things out.

Even if it was a bit predictable, it was so well-done, I could not mind. Any other first-time author might have been tempted to wrap a pretty bow on the end, giving every character a happily-ever-after, but Oliver remained true to her slightly-dark-yet-so-hopeful story, pulling us through a harsh end, inspiring us to Sam's same sense of hope.

Plus, you know a story is good when you can imagine the characters living beyond the book. Each character came alive in such a real sense, you can picture what happens next, even after the rather abrupt end.

Teenagers can be really stupid sometimes. So there is a lot of hardness to get through, hence 3.5/5

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.

Judgment, No. 3

Pictorial Evidence

It's gripping, intriguing, unexpected. And it almost doesn't make sense--sleeveless in the Alps? I don't think so. But the title is Impossible, so...

But even for all the chilliness, it seems warm. Like it will be a good book to curl up with, escape into. I'm kind of excited. It has to be magical, with a swirly title like that and the girl just standing in the wind, just waiting for something. Something inevitable. I suspect drama and romance fraught with some inescapable fate. And hopefully the writing is as refreshing as the cover art.

Cover Story

We know it's about the song, "Scarborough Fair" which is all about love and tests and impossible tasks. So the question is, good or bad? Luckily, the author lets us know. Right on the cover. She actually seems to give the whole plot away: she's pregnant, she has three things to do or she'll go crazy, and she has a best friend who I'm sure will turn into such a great lover. And there's a creepy, devilish villain who has to be magical (hence the curse). 

So. The only question is what's so surprising inside, or so great about the writing, that she can afford to give the whole plot away? Because of course the main character will manage to complete all the tasks. That's just how YA works--there's a happy ending. And she'll fall in love with her best friend who will probably have some issues with her being pregnant (unless he's the reason she is...but if it's a curse, maybe the pregnancy just happens) but come around in the end. After all, this book keeps touting true love and all, so he's probably the key to her succeeding. Who knows, maybe they'll get married--seeing as she has a kid and all.

Closing Statement

The giving-everything-away ploy seems to be working: I actually can't wait to read it, to see how it all works out. It's almost like Werlin knew the plot was too predictable and cheesy to worry about making it the heart of the novel, which means the characters must be. And I love that. I already love that, even though we know what happens, something must make it an exciting journey regardless. Maybe it's a risk and maybe it won't pay off, but I think it will be an intriguing read nonetheless, with magic in the background and relationships at the forefront. 

Cool beans.

Judgment, No. 2

I saw this cover and I had to have it. I am so easily wooed by pretty things.

Pictorial Evidence
First, I want her dress. Especially if that is a bow at the bustle. Yes, please.

Second, it looks magical. Which is perfect, considering that it is a fantasy...filled with magic. It will probably be less on the vapid side and more concerned with sentimentality. Instead of humorous or silly, it will try to be more emotional, bleeding into the melodrama. But of the operatic sort--the fine art of overwrought passion.

And it already looks like its trying to hard but, being so pretty and all, it seems forgivable.

Cover Story
It's a retelling of the fairytale, 12 Dancing Princesses (where the girls go out and dance all night, needing new shoes each morning). And since there's not much more than that to go off of, it's kind of anybody's guess what will actually happen here. And this is my guess.

The eldest will be expected to marry someone suitable (read: boring) and, of course, that won't go over well. Not with her leading her eleven younger sisters to galavant the night away. And since magic is always dark behind its allure, this man giving them this world to dance in each night will expect something in return. Such as the pretty princess herself. He comes to them, meaning he has to. This is his last-ditch effort--for revenge, for freedom, for something--and he'll abuse the girls' mourning for their mother to his advantage. He probably has plans to seduce the eldest. After all, don't all villains? But she'll probably become distracted by some pretty young man completely unsuitable for her royal blood.

Ah, young love.

And then, back in the real world, when her father finds out they've been out dancing, there will be hell to pay. Nothing like a father who just doesn't understand.

Closing Statement
I can't wait to dive in and escape to a world of mythical intrigue, heartbreak and, most predictably, romance. Though the writing may be weak (considering who they got their cover quotes from...not that hot), and the plot might finish with the bow tied too neat, it seems like a refreshing take on one of the duller fairy-tales.

Review, No. 1

You should know, I read a book yesterday. And I would have done the guessing game with it, only I already knew the plot. It seemed an unfair advantage. Still, I figured there's no sense in wasting my impressive critiquing skills. So here's a good ole traditional review.

Lindner's breakout novel is a modern retelling of Charlotte Bronte's Jane Eyre. It's well-written and often intriguing, reading like a juicy expose, a subtle mystery. But I suppose knowing the ending just spoiled the fun.

It was too honest an interpretation. In following the original so closely, the text becomes incongruous and, well, silly to the setting. Jane herself seems especially inexplicable--her decisions seem more necessary than natural, as in the original book dictated them, no explanation needed. It started off exciting. I was actually thrilled by the first 100 or so pages--a nanny and a rockstar? Beautiful. But a lot of the plot seems forced and illogical in the modern setting. Actually, it's the self-loathing and melancholic introspection of the title character that drags it down. She was forgettable as a character; I'd rather more focus on Nico or the daughter or even...well, no spoilers here.

For the most part, though, it held my attention. It was moments of magic followed by lulls of indifference. I was most excited for the reveal and the conclusion, but both moments were the most anti-climatical. And the love scene. Lindner goes from coy to blunt. It's never graphic, but almost aggressive in its attempt at "reality." Really, its strength was the writing. It was fast paced and enticing, definitely a shallow summer read. Once you try looking for something of value or any sense of depth, that's when everything falls apart. Truly, I liked the book much more just reading it than I did sitting down to critique it. It really is a weak novel well-disguised by a quick pace and a fresh voice.

Take it for what you will, but I give it 2/5.

Judgment, No. 1

Pictorial Evidence
Gorgeous. Yummy. Obviously enticing. It just makes you want melt in a world of magic, where even booze is classy. It will be vapid, shallow, but sparkly. There will be fantasy against a backdrop of history, where it's true to the time but enhances all the glamour we've imagined for it. With the title so bold, the implications so obvious, the novel doesn't seem to be trying to be anything it isn't. It will be a vixen, teasing for teasing's sake, always keeping at arm's length, never going deeper, never showing fragility or vulnerability, only ever being something beautiful. A puff of smoke meant to excite and entice till all we want is more even if, simultaneously, we remain completely away of how shallow it really is.

And, okay, the armpit is a little freaky.

Cover Story
The basic storyline is this: A sheltered teenage girl is getting married to the golden boy and she's unhappy about it. Wants to live a little, experience the gilded age with a little more thrills and a lot more booze. Then, the other girls: The cousin, a society girl with a dirty secret, sure to get her into trouble. Probably a lover who won't take no for an answer and things will get dirty and desperate real fast. The quiet best friend, second to the spoiled cover character. She'll probably be the root of the drama. She's the one who's been sequestered to the background, a shadow often forgot. She'll start plotting against the ungrateful girl, desperate to have everything the other seems just as desperate to throw away.

And you just know the main girl won't stay faithful to her intended. There will just have to be a love triangle. A boy will come into the picture--some bright, young thing. Blonde, blue eyes. Maybe a scandalous affair with that inappropriate bad boy--opposites attract, right? The best friend will probably fall for the fiance or at least fall in with him. And all these conflicting emotions will tear these fragile relationships apart. Completely.

Since this is only the first part of a series, you know the climax will be gruesome. They'll all hate each other by the end. Except maybe the cousin and the main girl. They'll probably have some sort of camaraderie born from their shared infidelities or other desperate secrets.

Closing Statement
Will it be good? Oh, I hope so. Nothing like a few romantic scandals to keep you turning pages. Such a silly, operatic story--it's just what you want to curl up with to forget the mundane realities around you. I doubt it will disappoint. It definitely won't be anything of merit beyond the shallow confines of Young Adult fiction, but it will shine there. Something utterly divine and addicting. I just want to rip it open and slip in, escaping to the selfish and immature "Roaring 20's" where laws were something to laugh at and worrying was a pastime for the parents.

It just sounds...yummy.