December 2017 Reading Wrap Up

Well, it's nearly the end of another year. I feel like 2017 went by in a flash. It's hard to believe that I'm writing my final wrap up post already. It feels like just a few months ago that I was planning out all my reading challenges and now here I am, at the end of all of them. It's a really nice feeling to have accomplished all my goals.

December ended up being a great reading month for me. I finished 13 (!) books in all, and completed all of my reading challenges. Here's the list of what I read:


1. To All the Boys I've Loved Before by Jenny Han (4/5 stars)

• TBR Challenge: previously owned

2. Bud, Not Buddy by Christopher Paul Curtis (3/5 stars)

• Popsugar Challenge (bonus category): A book you got at a used book sale

3. The Good Sister by Jamie Kain (4/5 stars)

• Popsugar Challenge (bonus category): A book with a family member term in the title
• TBR Challenge: previously owned

4. The Sky is Everywhere by Jandy Nelson (3/5 stars)

• TBR Challenge: previously owned

  
5. The Beginning of Everything by Robyn Schneider (2/5 stars)

• TBR Challenge: previously owned

6. Firecracker by David Iserson (3/5 stars)

• TBR Challenge: previously owned

7. The Strange and Beautiful Sorrows of Ava Lavender by Leslye Walton (1/5 stars)

• TBR Challenge: previously owned

8. These Gentle Wounds by Helene Dunbar (3/5 stars)

• TBR Challenge: previously owned

9. The Nest by Kenneth Oppel (4/5 stars)

10. Terror at Bottle Creek by Watt Key (3/5 stars)

11. Seedfolks by Paul Fleishchman (4/5 stars)

12. The Silent Wife by A.S.A. Harrison (3/5 stars)


13. Dark Places by Gillian Flynn (4/5 stars)

My current challenge status is:

• Classics Club: 20/100 (on track to end 12/31/21)
• Back to the Classics:  12/12 - Complete
• Popsugar 2017: 40/40 - Complete
• Popsugar 2017 Bonus Categories: 12/12 - Complete
• TBR 2017: 60/60 - Complete

I read 81 books in 2017!

I read a lot of really great young adult novels this month, with To All the Boys I've Loved Before, The Good Sister, The Nest, Seedfolks, and Dark Places earning high marks from me.

My least favorite read of the month was The Strange and Beautiful Sorrows of Ava Lavender, which had a weird, meandering plot and a terrible ending.

Next month will bring with it my new reading challenges. The start of a fresh year is always exciting, and I'm happily planning out what literary mountains I want to climb next. Reading is so important to me that I can't imagine my life without books...or without this blog for that matter. This has become a space for me to record all my feelings and memories about what I'm reading before the details start to slip away. I wouldn't remember half of what I read without this place, so I'm going to continue doing all of this in the new year. Who knows, maybe I'll do even better in 2018.

Dark Places by Gillian Flynn

Dark Places is another book from the pile that my mother loaned to me ages ago. Continuing on in my mission to clear things out of my house before I move in the fall, I decided to read it as my last book for 2017. I finished it right in the nick of time too - it's New Year's Eve.

This was my second novel by Gillian Flynn (the first being Gone Girl). It's another mystery/thriller, this time centered around a troubled young woman named Libby Day. At the beginning of the novel we learn that Libby's family was massacred when she was seven years old. She managed to escape the bloodbath and fingered her brother, fifteen-year-old Ben, as the murderer. Her testimony sent him to prison for life. Since then, she has struggled to life a functional life, with bouts of depression and anger hitting her regularly. She's survived into her thirties on money donated by the public in the aftermath of the crime, but the fund is nearly empty. Unskilled and unable to even hold down a regular job, Libby is desperate for a way to earn enough money to live.

She sees a glimmer of hope when she is contacted by a representative for a group that likes investigating infamous crimes. The group members offer to pay her for interviews and old Day family memorabilia.She attends a meeting with these people and is immediately made uncomfortable by their firm belief that her testimony was false (most likely coached by her psychologist in the aftermath of the incident) and that her brother Ben was actually innocent of the crime. Lured by the promise of additional payments, Libby reluctantly agrees to begin speaking to people from her past and re-investigating what happened. Her efforts end up leading her to reconsider what she thought she knew about the night her family died and putting her in the middle of a dangerous web of secrecy and lies surrounding the murders.

Boy, does Gillian Flynn know how to craft an engaging mystery. I truly couldn't put this one down. Part of what made this such a page-turner was the clever narrative structure. The chapters of the novel alternate between Libby in the present day, and her mother and brother in the day before the massacre. As the chapters bounce around between these characters, more and more details are slowly revealed, allowing readers to put together the pieces as they read. Flynn is careful not to reveal too much at once and throws enough red herrings into the mix to keep you guessing until the end. I was not able to predict what the ending would be ahead of time, which is a bit unusual for me.

I also really enjoyed Libby's character. She was not very likable, but was troubled and vulnerable enough to make you care about her. I think she showed an accurate depiction of the emotional damage that someone in her position would have to deal with. Add to that her sarcastic sense of humor (that actually was pretty funny) and her toughness, and she was a great character to spend a novel with. The remaining cast of characters were well-written too, with Ben's inner turmoil and her mother's quiet desperation shining off the pages. No one in this novel was a great person, but they were all either sympathetic or interesting.

When all of the details of what happened were finally revealed at the end of the novel, I was happy to discover that I wasn't disappointed. Sometimes thrillers that present a great mystery don't end as cleverly as they began, but that wasn't an issue here. Everything made sense and wasn't what I was expecting. That's pretty much a best-case scenario for a thriller like this.

I'm quite happy that I chose to read Dark Places. It was a very well-crafted thriller, and fans of this genre would do well to check it out. You know, as I move through this stack of books on loan from my mom, I'm discovering that I'm enjoying her picks more than I thought I would. Don't tell her. There's still five left to go. Let's hope some other gems are in there.


Total Books Read in 2017:81

The Silent Wife by A.S.A. Harrison

My mother loaned me The Silent Wife ages ago and it's sat under my nightstand ever since. She loans me a lot of books, actually, and I never read them in a timely manner. The truth is, we like different things. I'm into classic novels and quirky books. She likes beach reads and bestsellers. I don't say that as any sort of judgement whatsoever; different strokes for different folks, and all that. I would feel bad turning anything she offers to me away though, so I take the books and let them pile up. I currently have a big stack of her novels collecting dust in my room right now. Since I'm trying to move books out of my house in preparation for my move in the fall, I thought it was time to get some of them read.

The Silent Wife is the story of the complete breakdown of a marriage, told in alternating narration between the wife, Jodi, and her husband, Todd. In the first chapter of the novel, it is revealed that Jodi will eventually kill Todd, and most of the story concerns the buildup to that event. The alternating voices do a good job of feeding readers the story bit by bit, with frequent flashbacks filling in the blanks and providing nice character development along the way.

Todd is characterized as a philanderer, who is able to lead a double life without any guilt at all. His affair with a younger woman is the driving incident in the breakup of his marriage to Jodi. He isn't a malicious person, although his actions are undoubtedly hurtful to those around him. Rather, he is self-centered and addicted to the approval he derives from being with multiple women. He can explain away any amount of his terrible actions with his twisted logic. You both hate him and feel a little sorry for him at the same time.  Jodi is characterized as quiet and endlessly patient. She knows about Todd's dalliances with other women, but is able to look past them so long as they don't interfere with her day to day lifestyle. She simply remains silent about Todd's actions and enjoys their lavish apartment, designer clothes, and expensive vacations. She is the perfect housewife, preparing elaborate meals and keeping the household running smoothly. She knows things aren't perfect, but she can live with the flaws. When Todd's latest affair becomes a problem she can't ignore, however, her mind begins working differently, leading the couple towards its inevitable, violent end. 

This structural choices Harrison made in telling this story were highly engaging from page one. I liked being able to put together the pieces as I was reading, and tracking how Jodi, a seemingly normal, intelligent woman, could get to the point where she sees murder as a valid option. The writing was a little more complex and psychological than I was expecting, which was a pleasant surprise. This is one of those books that goes very quickly, because you want to see what the ending will be.

In fact, the ending is really the only thing about this novel that was a bit of a let down. After pages of smart storytelling, the resolution to everything turned on an insane coincidence. It seemed like a cop out to me. I was hoping for something more interesting. Even so, the book as a whole was still enjoyable-I just think the ending could have been better.

The Silent Wife ended up being a pretty good read, so I'll have to thank my mom for recommending it. It's perfect for someone who wants to get lost in a suspenseful, psychological story. Fans of Gone Girl or Girl on the Train will undoubtedly like this one too. I actually read both of those other ones on recommendations from my mom, so she seems to have a nose for these.

I still have six books from my mom stacked under my nightstand just waiting to be read, so this journey into things I wouldn't necessarily choose for myself will continue. Hey, at least I'm starting early on my resolution to clear some books out of my house.


Total Books Read in 2017:80

Seedfolks by Paul Fleischman

Seedfolks by Paul Fleischman was the last book I chose to bring home out of the giant shipment of books I ordered for my school this year. It was sandwiched into a set of books I bought from Scholastic that centered around diverse characters and stories. I probably wouldn't have paid any special attention to it at all if it weren't for a remark that another teacher made to me. When we pulled this slim little volume out of the box it came in, she remarked, "Oh, we used to teach this book at my last school! This is a great book." Of course, her words made me stick one of these on my desk to bring home and read later. I ended up being quite glad that she said something, because this was a really nice story.

The plot concerns the development of a community garden in a rough neighborhood in Cleveland. The story begins with the perspective of a young Vietnamese girl who decides to plant a handful of lima bean seeds in a vacant lot near her apartment building. The seeds are to honor the memory of her father, who passed away before she was born. Unbeknownst to her, some neighbors see her planting and watering her tiny garden and decide to join in and plant gardens of their own. Each chapter is told from the perspective of a different person who comes to plant something. Over time, the vacant lot is transformed from a smelly, rat-infested dumping ground into a lush and beautiful garden, with plants from many different cultures represented. The people who participate in the garden become more lush and beautiful too, with new friendships and a sense of community spirit blossoming right alongside the flowers and vegetables.

One of the strengths of this novel is its structure. Each of the book's thirteen chapters are narrated by someone different, and while the characters sometimes mention seeing or speaking to each other, each chapter is its own story. The narrators come from varied backgrounds and bring very different perspectives to the tale. They are separated from each other by age, race, financial status, county of origin and more. We only get a little bit of each person's history, as most chapters are only 4-5 pages long, but what we are given works beautifully to show how a group of people working together can bring positive change to their community. The short, constantly shifting perspective of the story leaves you wanting more, but in a good way, because you come to root for the characters to be okay and for the garden to be a success.

I was engaged in each of the narrators' stories, but the one that stuck in my mind the most was Sae Young's. Sae Young is a Korean woman who immigrated to America to run a dry cleaning business with her husband. Her husband ended up passing away from a heart attack when he was 37, leaving Sae to run the business on her own. She explains that she did fine by herself until her business was robbed one afternoon. The burglars beat Sae quite badly and made off with the cash she had on hand. The attack left her afraid to leave her apartment for nearly two years. Over time, she began venturing outside again and came across the garden. She felt an instant attraction to it and decided to plant her own section She grows the hot peppers she used to eat in Korea and begins to make some friends. The garden helps her come out of her shell and begin to feel like a part of a community again. This story, told in Sae's broken English, really touched me. It was beautifully told and illustrated perfectly how a project like a garden can help bring all different sorts of people together. I would venture to say that everyone who picks up this novel will feel a special connection to at least one of the narrators.

The overall message of the story is simple, and Seedfolks delivers that message in a skillful way. The idea that people are stronger together than they are separated and that we all have something to offer each other if we come together with kindness are lessons that have been repeated across many different novels. What makes this one unique is that it lets the many voices of the people coming together speak for themselves. Blending this narrative structure with the symbolic imagery of nurturing a garden raised this story to a level of thoughtfulness and soul not often found in middle grades fiction. This was a terrific little read, and one that I won't be forgetting any time soon.


Total Books Read in 2017: 79

Terror at Bottle Creek by Watt Key

Terror at Bottle Creek is another book from the order I placed for my language arts department to refresh their classroom libraries this year. This book was named one of our Sunshine State Readers for 2017, which means that a panel of children's librarians selected this novel as one of the best of the year for middle grades readers. I decided to read it myself based on the recommendation of the media specialist at my school. She loved it, and she is one of the world's best humans, so I gave it a shot.

The plot concerns thirteen-year-old Cort, who lives on the Alabama coast. He assists his dad as a river guide, taking tourists out into the swamps surrounding their houseboat to hunt gators and wild pigs. As the novel begins, his town is hunkering down in preparation for a big hurricane. Cort has been through hurricanes before, but this time feels a little different to him. His mother has recently left him and his father and moved into her own home nearby. His father is crushed by her absence, and spends most of his free time over at her new residence, trying to convince her to return back home. As a result, their hurricane preparations are rushed and incomplete. This leaves Cort feeling very unsettled.

As the storm makes landfall, Cort's father decides to go and check on Cort's mother. He leaves his son at a neighbor's house, promising to return before the storm hits their area. When he doesn't return in a timely manner, Cort is left to deal with the storm on his own. A series of mishaps leads to him ending up stranded outside at Bottle Creek, along with his neighborhood friend Liza and her little sister Francie. As the hurricane batters the Alabama river, the trio must deal with treacherous floodwaters, dangerous animals, and falling debris in order to survive and try to make their way back home.

This was a very quick read, and a fairly entertaining one too. It started off a bit slow, but once the hurricane made landfall, the action didn't let up until the conclusion of the novel. This is a straight up survival story, with most of the narration spent describing action scenes. It's the kind of book that kids who say they don't like to read will probably love, because it is so suspenseful and plot-driven. It reminded me a little bit of Hatchet while I was reading, but it was much faster-paced. The action only covers a few days, and things move very quickly.

While this novel was great for young readers, it's not so great for adults. I did enjoy it, but it was shallow, simplistic, and clearly meant for a young audience. I can hardly fault the novel for that, because it is perfect for the age group it is advertised for-- it's just not one of those books with a lot of crossover appeal.There are lessons in its pages about bravery, family, and the randomness of mother nature, but the main focus is clearly on Cort's survival. Any more intellectual questions that it raises are secondary. In spite of this, I'm actually very glad I still read it, because I know I will be recommending this one again and again to students who struggle with reading for pleasure. Terror at Bottle Creek is a solid choice for middle grades readers, and anyone with kids who claim they "don't like to read" would do well to pick it up.


Total Books Read in 2017: 78

The Nest by Kenneth Oppel

Sometimes we aren't really supposed to be the way we are. It's not good for us. And people don't like it. You've got to change. You've got to try harder and do deep breathing and maybe one day take pills and learn tricks so you can pretend to be like other people. Normal people. But maybe...all those other people were broken too in their own ways. Maybe we all spent too much time pretending we weren't.

I'm the language arts department head at my school, which means that I am responsible for spending our reading budget on new books for our classroom libraries. It's a job I was born to do, basically. This year, The Nest, by Kenneth Oppel, was one of the books that I chose. When it arrived this week, I was instantly attracted to the cool cover design and the mysterious blurb on the back. With all of my scheduled reading finished for December, I decided to give this one a try.

The plot of The Nest follows a young boy named Steve. Steve lives with his parents, his younger sister Nicole, and his brand new baby brother Theo. Theo was born with a genetic disorder, and is frequently in and out of the hospital. It's uncertain as to whether he will survive his infancy, and even more uncertain as to how high-functioning he will be if he does survive. To cope with the anxiety he feels about his baby brother, Steve begins having a series of elaborate dreams about a sentient wasp queen. The queen promises to fix Theo, if only Steve will help her. Steve initially agrees to help, half-believing that he is only dreaming and his answer doesn't matter anyway.

As time moves forward however, Steve begins to confuse his dreams with reality. He becomes unsure as to what's real and what's only in his head. His dreams of the wasp queen become increasingly more vivid as well, and he begins to suspect her intentions in helping his brother. She eventually reveals that she means to fix Theo by swapping him with a new, perfect baby that her wasp drones are building in their hive. Believing now that the dreams are true, and horrified at the prospect of losing his real little brother, Steve takes back his initial promise to help, which angers the queen. She threatens to use her army of drones to replace Theo without Steve's help, which thrusts them both into a final confrontation blending dreams and reality together in strange ways.

I honestly didn't expect much from this book, but I ended up being blown away by how creative it was. I was kept on my toes the whole time I was reading, always second-guessing myself about which parts of Steven's story were real and which were just dreams or hallucinations. Steve is characterized as a kid with some issues. He is a sensitive boy, and struggles with anxiety, phobias, and some compulsive behaviors. He is a bit of a hypochondriac as well, and is afraid of the wasps (real ones) than plague his neighborhood every year. By using a narrator that is inherently unreliable, and tying that narrator's fears into things that are really going on in his life, Oppel is able to keep the reader confused and engaged in the story. I would read a chapter and think, "okay, this kid is just hallucinating," then read the next chapter and think, "wait, at least some of this was real..." It was actually very cool. Even at the end of the novel, after the final conflict occurs, Oppel includes some story elements that cast doubt over what actually happened.

I really enjoyed the themes present in this novel as well, especially the exploration of what perfection means to people. Humans naturally strive for perfection, and The Nest asks interesting questions about what we would be willing to sacrifice to achieve it. When Steve is presented with the idea of replacing Theo with a perfect baby, he is sorely tempted to go along with it at first. He thinks about how much happier and less worried his family would be with a healthy baby. He thinks about how much heartache he could save everyone if Theo weren't so sick all the time. The wasp queen also offers to fix Steve as well, promising that she will remove his fears and anxiety if he agrees to swap Theo with the perfect baby. Steve longs to fit in with his peers and become "normal," so this offer strikes right at his weak point. He eventually comes to realize that he loves his brother, illnesses and all, and wouldn't want to swap him for a perfect child. He also comes to realize that everyone is flawed in their own way. This was a nice message, and it was delivered without being overly preachy or sentimental.

It only took me a few hours to finish The Nest, and I'm finding myself still turning events from it over in my mind. I'm still not sure how many of the events in it were real, and it's fun to try and figure out the specifics. This novel was extremely creative and surprisingly good, and I'm very glad to have picked it up. Those who enjoy quirky, surreal reads would do well to give this one a try.


Total Books Read in 2017: 77

These Gentle Wounds by Helene Dunbar

I'm pretty sure I received These Gentle Wounds as a Christmas gift a few years ago. I'm not 100% sure on that, but I feel like I remember receiving this one as part of a big stack of books...it could've been my birthday too, now that I'm thinking about it. It's nice to have so many books to read that you can't remember where some of them came from.

Anyway, this novel made its way to my shelves in one way or another a few years ago. It has great reviews on Goodreads, so I thought it would be a nice way to hit my reading goal for the year - this is my 76th book read in 2017. I'm officially one book ahead of where I ended up last year, and December's not even over yet. Not too shabby.

The plot of These Gentle Wounds follows fifteen-year-old Gordie Allen. At the novel's start, Gordie is revealed to be struggling with PTSD in the wake of a terrible family tragedy that he experienced a few years prior. He is in a lot of pain and is plagued with flashbacks. He has to fight to control muscle twitches and deal with a lack of appetite, as well suffer through recurring nightmares. He is able to cope with the help of his older half-brother Kevin, who calms him down when he is having an episode and watches over him at school. They are very close, so Gordie doesn't even want to think about what will happen when Kevin goes off to college in a year.

As time moves forward, Gordie encounters new challenges in his sophomore year of high school. He meets a new girl in one of his classes named Sarah that he feels a strong connection with. Being with her helps him to feel safe and more normal, and he falls for her quickly. Before long, he's wrapped up in his first romantic relationship-- a turn of events which both excites and confuses him. He begins to feel some hope and happiness for the first time in a while.

This new beginning is jeopardized, however, when Gordie's biological father reappears and demands visitation rights. His father is abusive and incredibly cruel, and his presence threatens to undo the progress Gordie has made since the tragedy occurred. As he struggles to deal with seeing his father again, he must face some of his deepest fears, confront his difficult past, and learn how to advocate for himself and for others.

What These Gentle Wounds did very well was get inside the head of someone suffering from PTSD. Gordie's narration was genuine and well-written. I could feel his pain throughout my reading and sympathize with his issues. He is a character that you want to see succeed and face his demons, and it was very easy to root for him and become invested in the plot. His story gave me greater insight into what those suffering from PTSD have to deal with.

Gordie's relationship with his brother Kevin was another high point in the novel. It was nice to see such a strong and supportive familial bond between the two boys. Kevin wasn't perfect in his caretaking; he was prone to outbursts of intense anger and was struggling with his own difficult past while he was trying to look out for his brother. This made him feel realistic as well. Both boys were just trying to do the best they could in a screwed up world, which is a feeling most readers, including myself, can relate too.

I did have a few small issues with the book, one of which was Gordie's girlfriend, Sarah. While I thought their burgeoning relationship was very sweet, I felt like her endless patience and understanding for Gordie's issues was a bit unrealistic. She was too good at helping him feel comfortable with her. It felt like she was bringing the techniques of a therapist to her interactions with him instead of speaking to him like a teenage girl that just met him would. This is a minor criticism though, and it didn't really impact my overall enjoyment of the story. It was actually nice to sidestep the typical boyfriend/girlfriend drama that often fills the pages of young adult fiction.

Another issue I had was that the plot moved a bit slowly at times. While this was a short novel, it didn't go by quickly for me. I kept getting distracted and taking breaks from it. I never felt like the story was weak or boring, but it wasn't always as engaging as I would have liked.

However, between its likeable protagonist and its realistic look at PTSD, I ended up enjoying These Gentle Wounds. While this didn't capture my interest as much as my favorites in this genre, I still thought it was a great read and a worthy choice to round out my goal of reading 76 books this year. This is one novel that I won't hesitate to recommend for my students that enjoy realistic fiction.


Total Books Read in 2017: 76

The Strange and Beautiful Sorrows of Ana Lavender by Leslye Walton

*This review will contain spoilers*

I can't remember when or where I purchased The Strange and Beautiful Sorrows of Ava Lavender. All I know for sure is that this one has been sitting on my shelf for a long time. I picked it up this month as part of my quest to power through some of the young adult novels I have piled up in my room. I'm sure that the beautifully designed cover was what drew me to it in the first place. In person, the edges of the feather illustration glimmer and shine, making for a very pretty image. The lyrical and unusual title is intriguing as well. The inside flap promises a magical realism tale about a girl born with the wings of a bird. That sounded pretty interesting to me, so I started reading expecting something special and quirky. What I ended up with was disappointingly common and ugly.

The story is narrated by a young girl named Ava Lavender, but the story is actually a generational tale about her entire family. It begins by describing the life of her great-grandmother, Maman Roux, then continues on to describe her grandmother Emilienne's life, then her mother, Viviane's life. The stories of all three of these women are rife with tragedies, deaths, and broken hearts. The Roux women tend to be unlucky in love, with murders, cheating partners, and untimely deaths ending their romances prematurely. As a result, none of these women know how to love in the long term, and keep their hearts closely guarded. Their stories are full of what things could have been, if only death and heartache didn't follow them everywhere.

Elements of magic are woven throughout their lives as well. Emilienne is unusually perceptive, and able to see signs and symbols in the most mundane occurrences. She also can see the ghosts of her siblings, who each meet with tragic ends over the course of the story. They try to tell her things and she tries not to hear them. Viviane has a magically intense sense of smell, which allows her to do everything from forecast the coming of the seasons to tell when a woman is pregnant. These instances of magic are treated with a casual disregard by the characters. It's just how things are, and they accept them. The stories of Ava's ancestors take up about two thirds of the novel, with Ava herself being born around the halfway point.

Once the focus of the novel shifts to Ava, details of her own tragedy begin to emerge. She is part of a set of twins, each of whom are born different. Ava has a set of wings like a bird, and her brother Henry is autistic. In an effort to protect her children from a world she knows to be cruel and uncaring, Emilienne keeps them confined to their home most of the time. Ava doesn't really mind this, as she is very wary of how the outside world would react to her feathery appendages anyway. Eventually however, she grows into a teenager and becomes more curious about the world outside. She begins venturing out at night with her best and only friend from her neighborhood, Cardigan Cooper.

Her nocturnal wanderings are the innocent sorts of adventures teens typically get into. She meets up with other kids at a party hangout, drinks a little, and kisses a boy. Unbeknownst to her, she also manages to catch the attention of Nathaniel Sorrows, a man who recently moved onto her street to help an ailing relative. Nathaniel becomes obsessed with Ava and her wings after seeing her pass by his house a few times and begins laying plans to get her alone. His intentions for her are evil, and when he finally succeeds in drawing her in, Ava's turn with disaster comes.

I started off reading this happily enough - I didn't mind the generational storytelling, and there's no denying that Leslye Walton has a way with words. Ava's narration is written like a fairy tale. It has an old-fashioned feel to it that makes you comfortable, like how you would feel snuggled up in bed, being read to as a child. The magical elements only furthered this feeling. Incredible events, like a girl turning into a bird or a ghost trying to send someone a message are treated as such commonplace occurrences that you come to regard them as common as well and truly fall into the setting. I had a little trouble discerning what the overall plot would be at first, and was puzzled by how little Ava was in the book, but I didn't mind that so much when I was having fun exploring the strange world that Walton created.

My patience started to run out as I got to the tragedies. All of the Roux women in the story suffer terribly at the hands of men. Their hearts are broken irrevocably and they don't function normally in the world afterwards. I quickly became frustrated at how the women in the story were so weak, pining away after lost loves instead of actually living their lives. As the plot meandered on from sorrow to sorrow, I started getting confused about which bad thing was happening to which woman. Lots of extra backstory passages for minor characters started showing up too, further confusing matters.I found myself putting this book down a lot to do little things like check Facebook or read my email. I had trouble staying engaged without a clear plot to follow, and it wasn't enjoyable to read about so many troubling events in a row. Magic without whimsy or wonder is an odd combination, and one that I found out that I don't really care for.

When Ava and Nathaniel Sorrows finally became the focus of the story, I assumed that I would get a clearer picture of what the overall plot of the novel was supposed to be, but I found that I still wasn't able to figure it out. The sorrows for Emilienne and Viviane kept coming, and Ava's story remained a bit vague. Walton provided plenty of foreshadowing to let you know that something bad was going to happen to her, but I still felt like the story was scattered, and that not enough attention was paid to the girl who was supposed to be the main character.

Eventually, I made it to the end of the story, and its brutality and ugliness stunned me. My little criticisms about pacing, clarity, and cohesiveness fell away and were replaced by the disgust and horror I felt at what happened to Ava. Nathaniel finally succeeds in luring Ava into his home, where he brutally rapes her and hacks off her wings with an axe. He very nearly kills her. This is all described in unflinching detail. It was terrible and difficult to read. Compared to the lyrical storytelling of the previous 250 pages, this was a slap in the face, and it felt wrong. I detest when sexual violence is used as a plot point. This was not necessary to the story or appropriate for this novel.

I've read several teen novels that dealt with sexual violence in thoughtful and careful ways. This was not one of them. This was merely violence for the sake of violence. Its only function was to continue the run of broken hearts in the Roux family by showing another man damaging another one of their women, this time in the most intense and destructive way possible. There are a few pages at the very end of the novel showing Ava beginning to heal from the attack and move on, but as so little time was spent on Ava's development throughout the story, those pages don't feel genuine or rewarding to read. It was a terrible, terrible ending. It's not really "strange and beautiful" for a woman to be raped. It's depressingly common.

When I make it to the end of a novel I don't really care for, I can generally find something positive to say about it. I am usually happy to have read it, even if the best thing I can say is that I got to try something new. I'm having trouble doing that in the case of The Strange and Beautiful Sorrows of Ava Lavender. I don't know who this was written for. Its plot is meandering and scattered, its treatment of women is less than ideal, and it features graphic sexual violence. It's meant to be for young adults, but I can't put this in my classroom library. I wouldn't want my child to read it. I'm not glad I read it. Aside from some pretty wording, this was a miss for me. Disturbingly, I am in the small minority of readers with this opinion. This book has phenomenal reviews on Goodreads. I don't get it.  

There is one positive in all this however- this was my last read for the TBR 2017 Challenge. I've officially read 60 books I'd had sitting on my shelf since last year.


Challenge Tally
TBR Challenge (previously owned): 60/60 - Complete!

Total Books Read in 2017: 75

Firecracker by David Iserson

After reading a bunch of rather maudlin teen fiction books in a row, I was ready for a change in tone. Luckily, Firecracker, by David Iserson was next on my to-read pile. I picked up this book at a Target a while back on impulse. The cool cover design drew me in, and then the line about the author on the front sealed the deal. It stated that Iserson was a writer for television comedies, including New Girl and SNL, two shows that I really like. I was hoping that this book would contain a lot of the same smart humor. Ready to relax and laugh, I gave it a shot this week.

Firecracker is about a wealthy teenager named Astrid Krieger. Astrid is not like other young adult fiction heroines. She's cynical, spoiled, self-centered, and only values other people for what they can do for her. She's not one to follow rules either. Her past is checkered with arrests for crimes ranging from robbery to attempting to sell her local police station to China. Her exploits are epic, and her family's immense wealth always shields her from facing true consequences for her actions.

At the beginning of the novel, Astrid is thrown out of her prestigious private school, Bristol Academy, in the wake of a cheating scandal. She admits to the cheating, but explains that far more people were involved in the situation than the school knows. She believes someone set her up to take the fall for the whole ordeal. She wants to figure out who the culprit is and pay them back, but this goal is complicated by her family's decision to make her attend public school as a sort of punishment for getting into trouble. All is not lost, however. She manages to make a deal with the dean of the academy that if she can turn over a new leaf and perform three acts of kindness for other people, she can earn her way back in to Bristol.

Astrid begins trying to perform her acts of kindness at her new public high school, but it turns out that doing good in the world isn't as easy as she hoped. She tries throwing money into some random situations, but it doesn't really work the way she expects it to. Simply put, she has no idea how to be nice to others. To make matters worse, she's finding that the kids at her new school don't care about her name or her family's wealth. She's used to people being automatically intimidated by her; now, many are openly hostile to her instead. She eventually meets two students named Noah and Lucy, and they become the closest thing to friends that she's ever had. They teach her how to function in her new world, and with their help, she sets off to finish her acts of kindness and get revenge on the person who sold her out.

Firecracker ended up being a very enjoyable read, and was a really nice change of pace from the dramatic, emotional stories I had been reading lately. It's strength, as one would expect given the background of its author, was in its humor. The story is narrated by Astrid herself, and while she is a tough character to like, her biting sense of humor is hilarious. I actually laughed out loud at several lines, which I'm not used to doing while reading. Her sarcasm helped draw me in to her character and like her in spite of her flaws. By the end of the novel, Astrid has definitely grown a little, but still retains her distinctive spice, which I thought was a nice touch. It wouldn't have been realistic for her to completely transform into a kind and caring person over the few months the story spans, but she ends her tale better than she was at the beginning of it. I found myself wishing that she could have become a bit more empathetic at the story's conclusion, but I can see why Iserson held back on that and kept her personality essentially the same - it's not that kind of book. Astrid's not meant to be perfect.

The plot of the novel, while fairly absurd, was also entertaining. Some things happen that would definitely not be possible in real life, but the absurdity was part of the story's charm. Astrid is a ridiculous person that makes ridiculous things happen around her, so it all seemed to fit together. This definitely isn't one of those stories that impresses you with its authenticity. It's one of those stories that you indulge in as a guilty pleasure, like watching teen dramas on CW. It lacks depth from time to time, but the ride it provides you with is still very enjoyable.

What I ended up appreciating about this book the most was how refreshingly different it was. There were no tears, no depression, and no "very special episode" style lessons to learn. Instead, Firecracker has an unapologetic heroine that doesn't put up with anyone's nonsense, sarcasm by the boatload, and a story full of funny twists and turns. This is definitely a novel that I can see my students falling in love with, especially those who may not consider themselves to be big readers. I'm happy to have gone on this particular adventure.   


Challenge Tally
TBR Challenge (previously owned): 59/60

Total Books Read in 2017: 74

The Sky is Everywhere by Jandy Nelson

I picked up The Sky is Everywhere a few years ago because Jandy Nelson's second novel, I'll Give You the Sun, is one of my favorite young adult titles of all time. I was hoping that I would fall in love with this story the same way I fell in love with the other one. As a result, I started reading with my expectations sky-high. I bet you can already tell where this is going, but first, a summary.

The story follows Lennie Walker, a high school student living in Northern California with her older sister Bailey, her grandmother, and her uncle. At the beginning of the novel, it is revealed that Bailey has unexpectedly died from a heart condition. This death absolutely devastates the family and throws Lennie into a deep depression. The girls had an extremely close relationship and Lennie doesn't really know how to function without her sister in her life. She can't fathom a future in which Bailey isn't there.

Lennie tries processing her grief through writing scraps of poetry about her sister and leaving them in random places around town. These poems are sprinkled throughout the novel and help to develop the depth of her grief. This practice helps her a little, but she is still hurting inside and stuck in a kind of living purgatory. It feels sad and disrespectful to move on with her life when her sister can't do the same. In her despair and confusion, she begins a physical relationship with her sister's boyfriend Toby, who is just as lost and depressed as she is. Far from providing comfort to her, this relationship feels like a monstrous betrayal to the memory of her sister. However, she can't seem to control herself around Toby, and is unable to give him up. She believes he is the only one who understands what she is going through, and is thus drawn to him.

To further complicate matters, Lennie also develops feeling for a new boy at her school named Joe Fontaine. Joe never knew Bailey, so the times they spend together aren't plagued by memories of her sister. His companionship helps to alleviate some of the heavy feelings she is struggling with. The pair soon fall into a deep, storybook kind of love with each other, but Lennie can't bring herself to let go of Toby. Her continued secret liaisons with him threaten to disrupt the relationship she has with Joe.

Sadness, guilt, confusion, and love swirl around in Lennie's head all at once. When Joe finally catches her with Toby and breaks up with her, she must find a way to sort out her feelings and put things right again. Learning to live with her grief and apologize to those she has wronged will be difficult and perhaps impossible, but Lennie is realizing that she needs to try if she ever wants to move on and live the life her sister would have wanted for her.

This book was beautifully written and I did enjoy it, but I struggled a bit with how sad it was. Lennie's grief is a palpable force in this novel, and pages and pages are spent on her despair. It was difficult to read. I usually like sad books, but this one was hard for me. It might have been a little too much. I stopped several times while reading and remarked on how bleak it was. Anyone who has ever lost someone they were particularly close to will probably have difficulties making it through the text. I don't think its emotional elements were necessarily a bad thing, but it definitely put me in a sad mood while reading.

Lennie's relationship with Toby also made me uncomfortable. I accept that grief can make people do rash things sometimes, but I found it unlikely that Toby, who is around 20 years old, would think fooling around with his dead girlfriend's 16 or 17 year old sister was remotely okay. There was a difference in power and agency between the pair that felt wrong.

The overall message of the story and its ending, however, were wonderful. I liked how Lennie ultimately processed her grief and came to terms with Bailey's death. I wish there had been a bit more to the plot, but what was there was interesting and felt genuine. I probably would have rated this novel higher if I had read it before I'll Give You the Sun. I went into this with my expectations too high. Knowing what Nelson is capable of achieving made me like this story a little less. Regardless, The Sky is Everywhere is a solid read. Sad, but solid. I'll definitely be interested in reading more works by this author in the future.


Challenge Tally
TBR Challenge (previously owned): 58/60

Total Books Read in 2017: 73

The Beginning of Everything by Robyn Schneider

The Beginning of Everything is yet another young adult novel that I picked up on impulse from Barnes and Noble. I decided to give it a shot this month to help chip away at my TBR challenge. The summary on the back promised a John Green-esque adventure, so I figured I was in for a treat.

The plot centers around Ezra Faulkner, a high school student living in a wealthy suburb in California. He leads a pretty charmed life; he is a popular at school, lives in a beautiful home, is class president, and is the star of the school tennis team. He expects to head to college on a tennis scholarship when he graduates. This carefree existence, however, is turned on its head when he gets into a car accident at the end of his junior year. His knee is shattered, ending his athletic aspirations (and his hopes of a free ride to college). He has to walk with a cane, and his new lack of mobility depresses him. He also begins drifting away from his popular jock friends as they prove to be rather shallow companions without sports to tie them together. He begins his senior year under a cloud, with every aspect of his life turning out to be quite different than he was envisioning.

Things begin to turn around when he meets Cassidy Thorpe, a new student at his school. He feels an instant attraction to her quirky, free demeanor and before long, they begin to date. She helps Ezra connect with a different group of friends and begin to enjoy his life again. However, as time passes by, he realizes that some things about Cassidy don't make sense. She won't let him inside her house, he's never met her family, and there's some sort of unpleasantness surrounding the last school she was at that she won't explain. He's torn between wanting to know the truth about her and wanting to just live in the moment and enjoy his relationship. When Cassidy unexpectedly begins to pull away from him, Ezra must learn how to carry on without having her as his crutch. The Beginning of Everything is a story about growing up, falling in love, and finding your place in the universe after you go through a traumatic event.

I am struggling mightily to write this review, because The Beginning of Everything really missed the mark for me. It's not that it was bad. It was just okay. It was so okay that I don't have much to say about it. Some of that stems from my lack of connection with the main characters. Ezra is, to put it plainly, a spoiled rich kid who alternates between feeling sorry for himself and fantasizing about Cassidy. Neither of these modes was particularly intriguing to read, so I could never bring myself to feel invested in his situation. Cassidy was nothing more than your typical manic pixie dream girl with an impossibly eccentric personality. She was essentially kidnapped from a John Green novel. I think I may be reaching my limit for reading this type of character, because she started to grate on my nerves immediately.

The pacing felt off throughout the story too. Things moved very slowly. The writing was never completely terrible or boring, but there were long stretches where not much happened besides Ezra and Cassidy making out. When the ending did arrive, the revelations about the characters were too unlikely and needlessly sad, which caused me to finish my reading on a down note. I can understand how other readers might really like this novel, but I just didn't connect with it. I'm surprised at that fact, because this is generally the type of book that I love.

So unfortunately, The Beginning of Everything wasn't for me. I found it to be a rather bland serving of overused young adult lit tropes. It wasn't the worst novel I've ever read, but it was far from the best. I did, however, find its overall message to be quite compelling in the end. After sifting through all the teenage drama, Ezra eventually arrives at the realization that he is in control of his own destiny, and he was giving Cassidy too much credit for the transformation he went through during his senior year. He largely took care of himself and made his own choices. I think that theme is a good one, especially for teen readers. It's too bad I wasn't a bigger fan of the execution.


Challenge Tally
TBR Challenge (previously owned): 57/60

Total Books Read in 2017: 72

The Good Sister by Jamie Kain

The Good Sister was one of those young adult impulse purchases from Barnes and Noble that I'm so fond of making. I saw it, thought it sounded interesting, bought it, stuck it on my bookshelf, and forgot about it for years. When I was looking for some quick reads to finish off my TBR challenge, this one seemed to fit the bill. It also had the bonus of including a family member term in the title, so I could use it to finish off my Popsugar challenge bonus categories as well.

Much like one of the last young adult books I read, To All the Boys I've Loved Before, this one ended up surprising me. From the description on the inside flap, I was expecting a standard teen drama. What I got was surprisingly emotional and authentic.

The plot is told from the viewpoints of three teenage sisters growing up in a dysfunctional family. Their parents, Lena and Ravi, lived on a hippie commune when they were babies. Eventually, the commune fell apart and the family was forced to move to a normal house in Northern California. Both Lena and Ravi are unsuited to be parents, and when their oldest daughter Sarah is diagnosed with leukemia, the stress of going through her treatment and her subsequent relapse break them up. The girls live with their mother for the most part, but she often is out with her various boyfriends, so they are on their own a lot.

Sarah, who defied the odds and survived two bouts of leukemia, is the glue of the family. She is kind, responsible, and looks out for her sisters. Rachel, the middle daughter, is wild. She doesn't get along with anyone in her family and engages in very risky behaviors. She's always felt left out, because she was both the typical middle child, and wasn't a genetic donor match for her sister. She fell into the background of the family a lot growing up, and doesn't feel particularly connected to anyone now. Asha, the youngest sister, is a bit of a lost soul. She is extremely close with Sarah due to her being a genetic donor match. She donated bone marrow to her growing up and feels a deeper connection to her than most sisters have. She also has her best friend Sinclair to keep her grounded, but she still doesn't have a lot of self confidence or plans for what she wants to do with her future yet. The girls are essentially on their own, drifting around without the normal authority and structure most families have.

At the beginning of the story, tragedy strikes when Sarah is killed in a mysterious and seemingly random accident. Without their "good" sister to hold everything together, Rachel and Asha spiral deep into their grief. It turns out that there's more to Sarah's death than meets the eye, and each sister holds a key to explaining what really happened. As the narration skips around from girl to girl, including Sarah, who speaks from the afterlife, the sisters must deal with the secrets, guilt, and fear they are carrying inside of themselves and try to come to some kind of peace.

This book had me hooked from page one. The pace of the story was excellent, with Kain dropping just the right pieces of the puzzle at just the right times for the reader to put the complete story together. Her writing felt very genuine too, with each sister having a unique voice and motivations. None of the characters were all that likable, but they were undeniably human. As I found out more and more about them, I became invested in their stories and wished for them to pull themselves together and find some happiness. When I found out the truth of what happened with Sarah, it was a punch to the gut, and complicated enough to make me really think about how blame, guilt, fear, and secrets can all combine in terrible ways.

The idea to have Sarah help narrate from the afterlife was also well done. Her sections have a different gravity to them than the others, and aren't cheesy or overly sentimental. I liked being able to see her perspective even though she was no longer with her sisters. It fit perfectly within the story. Like all people who are considered to be "good," she has her own set of flaws, and being able to see her thoughts added a lot to the development of her character.

I enjoyed the vast majority of the book, with the only one notable exception - the treatment of Asha's friend Sinclair. He is initially described as having a very fluid sexuality. He switches between wearing traditionally male and female clothes, and feels attracted to both men and women at different points in the story. I like to see diverse characters included in young adult fiction, so I thought that he was great. He was an amazing friend to Asha throughout the story, and was there for her in a way her family members were not able to be. My issue came in at the end of the novel, when it becomes clear that he has some romantic feelings for Asha. Before he makes his feelings known, Kain has him stop wearing female clothing and switch to "normal" boy clothes and hairstyles. At one point, Asha comments that "all he wears these days are normal guy clothes." He also professes to being "confused" before about liking boys or girls before settling on Asha. I felt like this was a bit of a cop out on an interesting character. He should be able to love Asha when he is wearing a dress just as well as when he is wearing jeans. If he's bisexual, he shouldn't have to say he was just "confused" to date a girl. He should still be bisexual. These changes just hit me wrong. I didn't like that he morphed into a straight male at the last minute.

Nevertheless, The Good Sister ended up being a complex and emotional story that I enjoyed a lot. The intricate plot, unique narration style, and beautiful writing combined to create something quite special. This isn't a happy book. Rather, it is a book that looks very honestly at the imperfections in people and the messiness of human relationships. It examines how hurt, jealously, revenge, guilt, and pain can come into our lives and drive our actions in ways we don't expect. It is raw, gritty, and wonderful, often at the same time. This was a very moving read that I'm glad I happened to pick up.



Challenge Tally
Popsugar Bonus Challenge (a book with a family member term in the title) 12/12 - Complete!
TBR Challenge (previously owned): 56/60

Total Books Read in 2017: 71

Bud, Not Buddy by Christopher Paul Curtis

One of the last remaining categories in my Popsugar challenge is to read a book that I got at a used book sale. I had to go out special to find a novel for it, because I don't generally buy used. I like to keep my bookshelf looking neat and clean, so I usually buy new. I'm not adverse to books looking like they've been loved and read, but creases, stains, and tears of unknown origin kind of freak me out. Luckily for me, I live close to the biggest used bookstore in the state of Florida, Haslam's. The shop is gigantic, so I could really be picky about the condition of the used books I was interested in.

After a little while searching, I found a copy of Bud, Not Buddy in pretty good shape. Judging by the perfectly smooth, not-at-all-creased binding, I doubt it had ever been read. The only indication it wasn't new was that the pages were a bit yellowed. As this was a children's classic that I hadn't gotten around to yet, I decided that this would be my pick. I paid a whopping $3.95 for it and got started reading.

The story is set in Depression-era Flint, Michigan, and follows a young African American boy named Bud Caldwell. Bud's mother passed away four years prior to the novel's start, and since his father has never been in the picture, he's bounced between group homes and foster families ever since. He was six when his mother passed, so his memories of her are a bit fuzzy. He carries around all he has left of her in a battered suitcase - a picture of her from when she was a kid, a few smooth rocks with indecipherable writing on them, and a stack of four flyers advertising a jazz show starring "Herman E. Calloway and the Dusky Devastators of the Depression!!!!!!"

After Bud gets into a fight with a boy at his latest foster home, he decides to run away from the system and seek his fortunes elsewhere. At first, he considers trying to make his way to California, where he could get a job picking fruit. After those plans fall through, however, he starts thinking about the flyers in his suitcase, The only reason for his mother to hang onto those old jazz show advertisements, he reasons, must have been because Herman E. Calloway is his father. It makes perfect sense in his head, so he sets off on a journey to find Mr. Calloway and start living with a real family again.

Curtis' writing is a pleasant mix of upbeat humor and more serious emotions. The entire story is narrated from Bud's eleven-year-old point of view, meaning that the reader has to fill in the blanks and connect the dots between events that he doesn't understand. This process doesn't feel like a chore, however, because Bud is such a cute and likable character. He lives by several rules he made up, called "Bud Caldwell's Rules and Things for Having a Funner Life and Making a Better Liar Out of Yourself." These rules show off how perceptive and fun-loving Bud is, despite his lack of knowledge about the world. Two of my favorites were Rule 83, which states that, "If an Adult Tells You Not to Worry, and You Weren't Worried Before, You Better Hurry Up and Start 'Cause You're Already Running Late" and Rule 16, which says, "If a Grown-up Ever Starts a Sentence by Saying, 'Haven't You Heard,' Get Ready, 'Cause What's About to Come Out of Their Mouth is Gonna Drop You Headfirst into a Boiling Tragedy."

As Bud moves around from town to town, he encounters some of the hallmarks of the Depression, including a Hooverville, the formation of a worker's union, redcaps working at train stations, big bands, and (unfortunately) some racism. As this is a true middle grades novel, nothing described is too graphic or intense, and Bud interprets everything he comes across as an interesting adventure rather than a social problem. Adult readers will be able to pick up the underlying issues and sadness in the situations Bud discovers, while younger readers will learn a little bit of history. Curtis' writing walks that fine line between being truthful and being depressing with skill, which is probably why this novel is the recipient of so many young adult literary awards.

Alongside the historical aspects of the novel are the emotional aspects of Bud's story. His search for his family is so earnest and innocent that it tugs on the reader's heartstrings and makes you cheer him on. When he finally finds Herman E. Calloway, things don't turn out exactly how he was envisioning, and the twist in the storytelling is clever and touching. This is, simply put, a nice book that makes you happy.

The only aspect of it that bugged me a little had more to do with my age than with anything Curtis did as a writer. Bud, Not Buddy is most definitely for children. As I mentioned earlier, adult readers will be able to pick up on the underlying tensions and issues in the plot, but even with that available to me, I felt too old to be reading this. Everything that happened was so sanitized for kids that the story felt too lighthearted for what it was describing. This was a three star read for me, but it's a four or five star read for a child. I would probably have a much deeper appreciation for this novel if I had come across it at the right age.

Even so, I did enjoy Bud, Not Buddy, and I understand why is it considered one of the classics of children's literature. Its blend of humor and emotion create a nice backdrop for a story about a boy who just wants to find where he belongs in the world. Bud's eternal optimism and determination will make me remember this heartwarming little read for a long time.


Challenge Tally
Popsugar Bonus Challenge (a book you got at a used book sale) 11/12

Total Books Read in 2017: 70