Wool by Hugh Howey

Whenever a student brings in a book they want me to read, I take up the challenge immediately. This year, I happened to get two right in a row from kids. The first, Wool, was brought to me by a student that's difficult to describe in a few sentences. She is friendly, kind, dramatic, enthusiastic, and gloomy in turns. Her moods change with the wind. One minute she will be bopping along to K-pop on her headphones, and the next she will be on the verge of tears, all wrapped up in one of the many dramas that seem to spring up around her constantly. One thing that is consistent about her, however, is her enthusiasm for a great story. She is a reader, and as such, I believed that this book she brought in for me would be entertaining.

Wool is set in a post-apocalyptic United States where some vague disaster has rendered the planet unlivable. The air and soil are completely toxic and standing outside for just a few minutes is enough to kill a person. As a result, humans had to move beneath the surface of the earth. Survivors packed themselves into a massive underground silo and established a new kind of community where they would raise their children, study science, and attempt to make enough technological advancements to come out of the silo and live outside again one day.

All of these events happened hundreds of years before the plot of Wool picks up, and the story focuses on the current generation of people living in the silo. Various political uprisings and data losses over the course of the silo's long history have resulted in many details of their history being completely lost, and the result of that loss of knowledge is the development of a ritualistic and strict set of beliefs and laws. People are not allowed to mention the Outside or express any kind of desire to explore it. They are not to question authority in the silo and must stay in the jobs they are assigned. Relationships between men and women are strictly regulated and reproduction is controlled by a lottery system to keep the population manageable. Anyone found in violation of these norms is punished by being sent to a "cleaning," which consists of the convicted person donning a sealed environmental suit and heading outside to scrub off the camera lenses that provide the silo with its only view of the outside world. The suits will only give the person protection for a few minutes-- just long enough to clean--  before they succumb to the toxins in the air and perish. The silo residents live in fear of being sent to a cleaning, so they obey the strict rules of their community. 

The plot of the novel kicks off with the sheriff of the silo, a man named Holston, purposefully sending himself to a cleaning. It's essentially committing suicide, and this choice baffles many residents of the silo, but everyone knows that asking questions is a sure way to get into trouble so they stay silent. The incident passes without much investigation or discussion. After Holston cleans the cameras and dies on the Outside, a new sheriff is selected. This new sheriff is a young woman named Jules. She comes from a section of the silo known as the "Down Deep." It's one of the deepest levels underground, and it's where important electrical equipment like the power generator and water pumping systems are located. She is a skilled mechanic with no law enforcement experience, but her work ethic and assistance on a previous case caught enough notice for her to be selected for the job. From the moment she takes the position, she notices several things about life in the silo that don't exactly add up. She quietly begins to investigate what she notices, and eventually takes a special interest in Holston's death. Her innate persistence and curiosity begin to lead her down a path of secrets, violence, and conspiracies that prove too irresistible to ignore. Wool is the story of Jules' quest for the truth of the silo, which she is determined to uncover despite the grave risks to her life.

This novel was extremely engaging. It's one of those classic dystopian adventure stories full of mysteries and plot twists that keep you guessing. The story was consistently interesting and the world of the silo was incredibly detailed and imaginative. I enjoyed trying to guess what was coming up next and theorizing about what was really going on behind the scenes. Happily, I wasn't able to figure out most of the plot points ahead of time, and was very entertained with each new revelation. Wool is, to put it simply, a very fun story. It's the kind of novel that you could use to pass the time on a plane or in a waiting room - it's easy to read and action-packed.

That being said, Wool did have a few weak points. Some of the supporting characters were a bit bland, and some sections of the novel dragged because of it. I liked Jules the most out of all the characters by far, but the narrative perspective hops around to different people quite a bit, and none of the others are as interesting as her. When the narration would shift to someone else, I found myself wishing to just get back to Jules already. At just over 500 pages, this is a lengthy read, and the less interesting sections made the pace feel overly slow sometimes. I also felt like some of the writing was a bit clumsy, with the romantic elements falling especially flat.

Despite those issues however, I still enjoyed my time with this novel. It reminded me of books like Divergent and The Hunger Games, but for a more mature audience. Any fans of dystopian fiction will find a lot to like in Wool. Beyond my personal enjoyment, I'm thankful to have a new topic to discuss with my student. Even better, now that I know which kinds of books she prefers, I can point her towards other stories she might like too. Sharing book recommendation and discussing stories with someone is a great way to develop a relationship, so I will most definitely continue to read what my students bring me in the future. Like this novel, they are usually winners. 


Challenge Tally
Total Books Read in 2018: 34

Mansfield Park by Jane Austen

When the general disorder and upheaval from my big move (mostly) settled down, I found myself far behind my usual pace in reading. It's hard to snuggle into a cozy spot with a cup of coffee and a good book when everything is in confusion and your schedule is all out of order. With the end of the year approaching at an alarming pace, I decided to tackle the next book in my Back to the Classics Challenge this year, Jane Austen's Mansfield Park.

I've always had a tenuous relationship with the works of Jane Austen. I usually find myself bored while reading her novels, but generally warm up to them as they end, with the sweet romances of the main characters making up for the rambling, uneventful stretches of prose that came before them. In truth, I want to like Austen more than I do, and I keep trying her books hoping to see the appeal that other lovers of classic literature are able to find so easily. I came the closest to truly enjoying one of her novels with Pride and Prejudice, and I was hoping to continue the trend with Mansfield Park, a novel that many readers consider to be her most mature and complex work.

The plot of the novel follows Fanny Price, a young woman who is sent to live with a wealthy aunt and uncle as a small child. As Fanny grows up under her relations' care at Mansfield Park, she is made keenly aware of the difference between herself and her four cousins. Coming from a poor background, she is not worthy of the same privileges as everyone else around her, and while no one is cruel or abusive towards her, she is clearly regarded as being the "lesser" member of the household. She runs errands for her aunts, keeps her opinions to herself, and spends time in quiet pursuits like reading. As her personality is extremely shy and conservative, she doesn't much mind this isolation, and is grateful to her aunt and uncle for their continued hospitality. She bears her disappointments quietly and tries to be useful to those around her.

The one exception to state of casual disregard for Fanny is her cousin Edmund, who has always been kind to her. He is the most sensitive and thoughtful of all of her cousins, even as a young boy. He sees to her needs, spends hours in conversation with her, and helps to shape her mind over the years. By the time they are both young adults, Fanny is secretly deeply in love with him. Edmund, however, sees her as nothing more than a dear sister. Fanny firmly believes that she has no hopes of a romantic relationship with him, and never voices her feelings aloud, but she hangs on his every word and admires him deeply.

Her quiet life is changed, however, with the arrival of a Mr. and Miss Crawford, a wealthy brother and sister who move to the area to live with their relations. As the pair are the same general age as the young adults at Mansfield, they all become fast friends and frequently take walks, socialize, and dine together. Fanny, who is always at the periphery of these gatherings, soon observes that the influence of Mr. and Miss Crawford upon her family is anything but beneficial. Both seem to show a lack of appropriateness sometimes, with Miss Crawford, Mary, making questionable remarks and being altogether too forward, and Mr. Crawford, Henry, flirting shamelessly with her cousins Maria and Julia.

Being who she is, however, Fanny says nothing to anyone about her misgivings. Soon, she is devastated to see Edmund fall under Mary's spell entirely. He begins planning a marriage proposal to her and is frequently discussing his feelings about this with Fanny, which is very difficult for her to hear. Maria and Julia, both thoroughly in love with Henry by this time, begin to fall out with one another as they battle for the affections of this man, who does not appear to be seriously attached to either one of them. The situation spirals steadily downward, with hurt feelings and disappointments cropping up at every turn. Eventually, in a move as surprising to Fanny as it is distasteful, Henry turns his attentions on herself, and begins an aggressive romantic pursuit which throws all of her feelings into confusion and alienates her from her family. In typical Austen fashion, misunderstandings, heartfelt yearnings, and hurt feelings abound until a scandal brings about a turning point that sets the honorable characters on the right path again.

As in all Jane Austen novels, this one ends happily, with the poorly behaved characters punished and the well behaved ones rewarded. I experienced my usual highs and lows while reading. This novel is just over 400 pages and for 325 of them, I struggled. The pace was glacial, with most of the plot consisting of Fanny being disapproving or faintly embarrassed by things in turns. She was such a virtuous, introverted, and conservative character that is was hard to be engaged in her story. If she was wealthy enough to have a strand of pearls, she'd have been clutching them throughout most of the novel. That being said, she was the most like me, by far, of any Austen heroine I've read. I'm a bit upset that I couldn't bring myself to like her more. Perhaps I saw in her an intensification of all my lesser qualities. Like Fanny, I have a tendency to remain quiet, seek out solitude, and avoid being the center of attention. However, in her, these tendencies are carried to quite an extreme, making her rather boring and prudish to read about. It forces me to wonder, is that how the more outgoing people in the world see me? It's not a fun question to consider.

Fanny isn't the only character I struggled to enjoy. Edmund was also an issue. He was even more conservative and virtuous than Fanny, if that's even possible. He was, to put it mildly, not fun or alluring in the slightest. This made him Fanny's perfect match, but it didn't make him particularly endearing. I was also a little weirded out by the idea of Fanny being romantically interested in a man that she calls her brother. I know that cousin marriages were common in Austen's day, but these characters had been living together as brother and sister from the tender age of ten. It was a little bit off-putting to root for them as a couple.

Pacing issues and self reflection aside, other elements of the story haven't aged well, which impacted my enjoyment of the novel. Fanny is pushed and pulled through the plot, with everyone around her trying to manipulate her into making the choices they think are best for her. The most egregious example of this comes towards the end of the novel when Henry is trying to secure her hand in marriage. Fanny steadfastly refuses his suit, as she knows from his previous flirtations with her cousins that this man is incapable of remaining faithful to one woman. This is virtually the only time in the novel that she makes a decision for herself and sticks with it, in spite of what her family wants. Her family, especially her uncle, is baffled by her choice. They believe that this is the best offer she is likely to get by far, and they begin on a campaign to force her to change her mind. They subject her to constant prodding about the issue, with even her beloved Edmund taking a turn to tell her what's best for her. Her uncle goes so far as to excoriate her and call her ungrateful for refusing the match, which is incredibly painful to someone like Fanny, who lives to please her relatives, to hear. Eventually, the family decides to send her back to "visit" with her mother and father, who are poor and coarse individuals, to shock her into changing her mind. This time spent with her original family is devastating to Fanny's mental and physical health and is profoundly painful to her. She endures much suffering under this manipulation, and the plan very nearly works until Henry does something scandalous enough to remove himself from the picture. This kind of emotional abuse of women plays particularly poorly in today's more progressive atmosphere. While the time and place of the novel excuse these sorts of plot points, I still struggled to find enjoyment in a story that treats women so poorly.

The last 75 pages or so of the novel went much more quickly than the pages that proceeded it, with all of the interesting bits of the story happening in rapid succession. This seems to be a consistent tendency of Austen's. For me, most of her plots start out extremely slowly, then pick up at the end. The endings are almost enough to make up for the dreary beginnings in many cases. Mansfield Park, however, proved to be an exception to this trend. Rather than continue the narration of the story in the third person limited (mostly) style of the rest of the novel, Austen herself steps in for the final chapter and directly speaks to the reader, telling them everything that happens to the characters in the future. It felt awfully disappointing to be robbed of seeing the first tender words or romantic embraces that Fanny finally gets to enjoy after so much suffering and self-denial (even if they were with her cousin-brother). I wanted to be there when that turn happened, not hear about it afterwards. It was disappointment all around with this one.

As for the idea that Mansfield Park is the most mature and complex of Austen's novels, I have to admit that I didn't see it. Fanny is undoubtedly a very mature character, but she isn't a particularly complex or interesting one, and her conservative views on matters only function to delay her happiness in the story. In fact, she was very close to reversing her decision and accepting Henry's suit despite her high-minded refusals. Henry ended up ruining things for himself through his impulsive behavior. Fanny's virtue wasn't so much a triumph as a win-by-default situation. In fact, many characters in the novel end up blaming Fanny for Henry's behavior, claiming that he might not have made the choices he did if she had accepted him sooner. Even Austen herself directly states this point through her narration in the novel's final chapter. Whatever point Austen was going for was muddied by these assertions. Did Fanny's virtue serve to protect herself from a villain, or did it lead to the ruin of Henry? It's ultimately left unclear.

Ultimately, I found this novel to be a bit of a rambling mess (kind of like this review, at this point). I didn't completely dislike it, and by the end I was eager to figure out the fate of all the characters, but I can't say I enjoyed this reading experience. Fanny was too prim and proper for me to fully enjoy her, Edmund was a self-righteous bore, and the emotional manipulations of the supporting characters felt overly cruel. Everyone roots for a character that can't catch a break, and I did begin to root for Fanny by the end of the story, but it was too long a road to get there. At the novel's close, I still found myself struggling to understand the overall theme of the story.

One day I will give up on trying to enjoy Jane Austen, but I'm still determined to get a review up for all of her works on the blog (which will even entail some rereading of novels I tackled long ago). I suppose I'm a glutton for punishment in this regard. At least I can say that I finished a Back to the Classics category with this read, as well as a selection from my Classics Club list. I'm more than ready to move onto my next literary conquest now and leave my perpetual Jane Austen struggle behind for a little while.



Challenge Tally
Back to the Classics (a classic by a woman author): 8/12
Classics Club (#71 on my list): 31/100

Total Books Read in 2018: 33

Icebreaker by Lian Tanner

It's been a little while since my last blog post, but my absence here is due to an understandable reason. Not only did I finally made my big move to Connecticut, I managed to find myself a new teaching job too. This is my first review from New England, and I'm writing it in between figuring out how to pay my rent online and lesson planning for my new seventh graders. I was afraid to make this move, but it's worked out better than I could have hoped so far.

But anyway, I digress. I did manage to finish reading a book towards the beginning of this month and never got around to reviewing it here. It was a doozy too. Icebreaker by Lian Tanner is a fever dream of a novel, with a premise so improbable and a setting so bizarre that the whole thing should be a literary train wreck. However, this odd little story is surprisingly compelling and it made for some enjoyable guilty pleasure reading.

I will endeavor to explain the plot as I normally do, but it won't be an easy task. There's a lot you have to wrap your brain around to be able to slip into this world. The story is set on an old icebreaker ship that maintains a constant, circular course around the arctic. The ship has been traveling the same course for 300 years without stopping. Whatever the crew's original mission was has long since been forgotten, and the descendants of these people have organized themselves into three warring tribes comprised of the officers, the cooks, and the engineers. They spend all their time in a combination of maintaining the ship, fishing for sustenance, and fighting with each other. Their whole world is the icebreaker. They have never experienced life any other way.

The protagonist of the story, a young girl named Petrel, is unique in that she has no tribe. Her parents were executed for a crime when she was just a baby and ever since then, all of the groups shun her. Her life is lonely, but she's a tough kid and has managed to survive mostly on her own. Her only friends are two large gray rats that can talk and appear to be at least partly mechanical. You see what I meant by calling this novel a fever dream? I don't know how Tanner managed to think this stuff up.

Anyway, one day Petrel spies something unheard of--she seems a boy floating on a piece of ice in the sea. Hoping to have found a friend at last, she sneaks him aboard the ship and tries to form a bond with him. All is not what is seems, however, because the boy isn't just a stranded kid. He's been sent on a secret mission from the outside world to destroy something valuable hidden on the ship. What follows is an adventure that causes Petrel to go from being the forgotten girl to a young woman who stands up for herself and fights to protect what she holds most dear.

There's so much about Icebreaker that just doesn't make any sense or is completely impossible. You have to be willing to suspend your disbelief to enjoy it, but if you can do that, it's actually not too bad. Petrel is an interesting character that changes and grows throughout the novel, the story is intriguing enough to keep you turning the pages, and its pacing is just right. This is a quick read that's perfect for those times when you want to escape to a different world for a little while, but you don't want to have to think too much. It's a fairly well-written dystopian sci-fi novel for young readers.

I don't have much to say beyond that, so I fear this won't be a very detailed review. What I can say is that I'm glad to have given this novel a shot. It will make a great addition to my woefully inadequate new classroom library. Hopefully one of my wayward seventh graders will pick it up and see themselves in Petrel or fall in love with its improbable, crazy world.


Challenge Tally:

Clear the Shelves 2018: 18 books donated


Total Books Read in 2018: 32

The Memory of Light by Francisco X. Stork

The Memory of Light was a random purchase I made at my school's book fair ages ago. I was intrigued by the description on the back cover, which previewed a story about a teen that attempts suicide. It reminded me a bit of It's Kind of a Funny Story by Ned Vizzini, another story about a teen struggling with depression which I read a few years ago and enjoyed immensely. Hoping that this would be another winner, I decided to give it a shot this month.

The plot of the novel concerns Vicky Cruz, a sixteen year old girl who wakes up in the hospital after a suicide attempt at the start of the story. Vicky had been dealing with feelings of depression since the death of her mother a few years prior, and the struggle finally became too much for her to handle. After she is stabilized, she meets her psychiatrist, Dr. Desai, who recommends that she stay in the hospital for a few weeks to let her mind recover and participate in therapy. Realizing that she is still having suicidal thoughts and needs help, Vicky agrees.

As she begins to participate in her therapy, Vicky meets a handful of other teens who are also staying at the hospital to treat mental illnesses. There is Mona, a quirky and bold young woman struggling with bipolar disorder, E.M., an angry young man that has trouble controlling his aggression, and Gabriel, a young man who doesn't like to talk much about what his issues are, but who espouses great wisdom and kindness in their group sessions. As the days go by and the group gets to know each other, Vicky starts to heal and begins to come out of her depressive haze. She is far from cured, but she begins to see hope for her future.

Unfortunately, an unexpected event sends Vicky home early, where all the problems that contributed to her mental illness are waiting for her. The memory of her late mother, a father whose overbearing demeanor does more harm than good, and a demanding private high school full of kids that know about the suicide attempt await her. It doesn't take long for her suicidal thoughts to return, and Vicky must use what she learned at the hospital to cope with her depressed feelings and advocate for her own mental health.

I really liked this novel, and what struck me the most while I was reading was how real everything seemed. The way Vicky described her feelings of depression felt absolutely authentic to me and made me root for her character to overcome her illness. She spoke about her thoughts of guilt, pain, and suicide with an unflinching frankness that rang very true and made the story come to life. This is a young adult novel, but nothing was softened for a teenage audience, and the result of this is that I got a very clear view of how clinical depression invades a person's mind and twists their thoughts and actions. It helped me to understand this illness more. I think it would do the same for anyone that reads it.

The plot itself is only okay. I thought that some pieces of it, including her father's incredibly tone-deaf actions, the trip the whole group takes to Dr. Desai's ranch, and Vicky's heroic actions at the end of the novel, were unrealistic. However, I was invested enough in Vicky as a character to overlook the unlikely situations and enjoy the story anyway. This is one of those rare novels where character development is enough to carry you through the rough patches.

It came as no surprise to me that at the end of the novel, the author included a note about their own struggles with depression, including their own suicide attempt. it was very obvious throughout reading that Francisco Stork must have been very familiar with depression and the damaging thoughts it unleashes in a person's mind. He wrote that his hope was that Vicky's story might help another teenager out there struggling with suicidal thoughts, and he includes several resources for people to turn to to get help. After reading this, I feel that Stork must have saved more than one life with his words. His approach to this difficult topic resonated deeply with me, and I'm sure others have felt the same way.

Ultimately, I did end up enjoying The Memory of Light a great deal, but in a completely different way than I enjoyed It's Kind of a Funny Story. The latter deals with depression using dark humor and more absurd-style storytelling. The former deals with it in a way that feels very realistic and serious. Both are worthy of a read. I am going to put The Memory of Light onto my donate pile, and my hope is that it makes its way into the hands of someone who can learn from it, whether it becomes a push to someone to reach out for help, or a tool to help someone relate to a family member struggling with mental illness.

     

Challenge Tally:

Clear the Shelves 2018: 17 books donated


Total Books Read in 2018: 31

Egg & Spoon by Gregory Maguire

I picked up Egg & Spoon because of its author. I've been a fan of Gregory Maguire's ever since I discovered Wicked back in my college days. I loved his dark take on the world of Oz, and went on to (mostly) enjoy his other novels over the years. Each of his works are different versions of well-known stories, with his source material ranging from fairy tales like Cinderella to classic literature like Alice in Wonderland. Egg & Spoon is based on Russian folklore and stars Baba Yaga, a famous and enigmatic witch from children's stories. Unlike the other works I've read from Maguire, Egg & Spoon is a young adult novel. So, I started my reading curious about how his often-inappropriate writing style would work in a more restrictive genre.

The plot follows two young protagonists. The first, Elena Rudina, is a peasant living in a small village called Miersk. At the start of the novel, she is living on the brink of starvation and struggling to take care of her ill mother. Her two brothers have both been taken away, one to be a servant to a wealthy family far away, and the other to be in the Tsar's army. She does what she can for her mother, but her situation is growing increasingly bleak. Unusual weather conditions have ruined the crops, and all the livestock in the town has either run away or been eaten already.

Elena's story takes a turn when she meets the second protagonist via a fortunate train delay. Ekaterina Ivanova is the opposite of Elena in almost every way; she is rich, highly educated, and doesn't want for anything. She is traveling with an elderly aunt to a party at the Winter Palace in Saint Petersburg to try and catch the eye of a young prince. When a section of the train tracks she is traveling on is damaged, she is forced to stop in Miersk to wait for repairs. Bored and lonely for someone her own age to talk to, she begins spending time with Elena, reading from storybooks and chatting. They don't exactly become friends, but they pass the time together.

Once the train is ready to move on and leave Miersk, a series of events occur that lead to the girls accidentally switching places. The penniless Elena is left on the train headed for Saint Petersburg and the wealthy Kat is left stranded in a destitute village. As the two attempt to right the situation, a wondrous and nigh-unexplainable series of events takes place that lead to both of the girls teaming up to save Russia alongside a trio of legendary folktale characters.

I realize that the last paragraph of my summary is laughably thin, but to attempt to detail the adventures of Elena and Kat any further would necessitate way too much explaining on my part, so it's the best I can do. This is one of those books that doesn't summarize easily. It's a long and winding tale based on absurdities and magic. Anyone interested in the finer points of the plot will have to read it themselves.

I struggled a lot with this one. At nearly 500 pages, Egg and Spoon is a long novel, and it felt like it. Most of the middle was a slog, and I wasn't inspired to read. I went days without picking it up and then had trouble reconnecting with the rambling and weird storyline. As a result, this book that should have taken me inside of a week to finish took almost a month. Maguire's trademark wit was halfway present, especially in the Baba Yaga character, but it was definitely missing something. It lacked the playful edge and compelling characters present in his other works. I didn't particularly like Elena or Kat and my attention was constantly drifting. There were beautiful passages here and there and a handful of memorable quotes, but overall, this was a weak offering.

It's a shame too, because Maguire is undoubtedly capable of delivering amazing and clever stories. This just wasn't one of them. I do admit that the ending of the novel was great, and its ultimate message of sharing what you have to ease the suffering of those around you was inspiring. Those factors bumped the novel up to two stars for me. It just wasn't enough to make the long trek to get to that point worth it. Egg and Spoon falls into that weird territory of being over most young readers' heads and beneath most adults' notice. It wasn't terrible, but I can't think of anyone I'd recommend it to. This is most definitely one for my donations pile.

Challenge Tally:

Clear the Shelves 2018: 16 books donated


Total Books Read in 2018: 30

These Broken Stars by Amie Kaufman and Meagan Spooner

I came across These Broken Stars on a book blog years ago, and decided to pick it up based on the very positive review I read. After burning out on smart-ass teens and their problems in Kids of Appetite a few days ago, I wanted to read some young adult fiction that felt a bit more straightforward. I figured that this science fiction adventure would meet that need nicely, and I was very pleased to find out that I was right.

The story follows two teenagers taking a trip on the luxury spaceliner, the Icarus. Lilac LaRoux is the daughter of the richest man in the galaxy and is traveling to celebrate her upcoming seventeenth birthday. Tarver Merendsen is a much less well-off soldier, fresh off a mission in which he saved several lives. His new-found fame has earned him some public attention and a spot on the first class decks, which is where he first bumps into Lilac at a party. There is a definite spark of passion between them, but as they come from two different worlds, and Lilac's father is extremely strict and controlling regarding who she associates with, both understand that they can never be in a relationship together.

They are forced together again, however, when the Icarus is suddenly pulled from hyperspace and crashes onto the nearest planet. Due to Tarver's military training and Lilac's technological knowledge, they are able to evacuate the ship in an escape pod and survive the rough landing. Once the dust settles, the pair realizes that they are in major trouble. All of their communications equipment was destroyed in the crash and they have no way of signaling their location to anyone. They set out together to try and find other survivors from the Icarus or any inhabitants on the planet that might be able to help them get home. As they travel, several strange occurrences lead them to realize that not everything on the planet is what it seems. Eventually, they discover a tragic secret that will change the course of both of their lives.

This novel was shockingly entertaining, and I was absolutely hooked from page one. I've always been attracted to survival stories, and this one was both fast-paced enough to stay engaging, and detailed enough to present two well-developed characters. The plot twists were interesting, the romance was slightly cringe-worthy, and there was teen angst-galore. In other words, it was exactly what a book like this should be like, but more competently written then usual.

Like with many of the books I've read lately, this one shifted narration between Lilac and Tarver with each chapter. I liked this method here, and I thought each character retained their own voices and motivations nicely. There were times that I found myself frustrated with some of the choices they made, especially Lilac and the meanness she often used as a shield, but I admit that all of their actions were in keeping with what you would expect teens in space to act like.

As this was a really enjoyable adventure story, there were only three small things I didn't like. First, the protagonists names are probably some of the most made-up sounding names I've ever heard. Lilac LaRoux and Tarver Merendsen. The authors might as well have gone with Beauty McDelicate and Handsome Toughersen. That's a small (and petty) complaint though. It's not like I could have come up with anything better.

My second gripe is with Lilac's father, Roderick LaRoux. He's meant to be an unlikable character, but the way he tries to control his daughter's personal life felt very uncomfortable to me. He was extremely concerned about what might be going on in her sex life, and it was repulsive. It's to the point where Lilac is forced to be brutally mean to all men to keep them away from her, lest they raise the ire of her rich daddy, who will literally arrange for them to be killed. I thought that was gross. 

My last issue was with one of the plot points at the end of the novel. Lilac and Tarver eventually need to figure out a password to unlock something. They try many words with no luck, until Lilac eventually figures it out. The password ended up being the very first word that they should have tried. Like, very obviously. It was the first word that popped into my mind. It was ridiculous that it wasn't the first thing they tried too. If you ever read this one, you'll know what I mean. 

Despite those smaller things, I was very surprised by how much I enjoyed These Broken Stars. I would recommend this in a heartbeat to young adult readers. While I don't think that I would want to read this one more than once, it was an excellent journey that I'm glad I embarked on. This is the first book in a series, but it can definitely stand alone. There is a firm ending to it, so I don't feel like I have to read the rest of it right now. I might do so in the future, but for now, I'm very happy with my experience.

Challenge Tally:

Clear the Shelves 2018: 15 books donated


Total Books Read in 2018: 29

Kids of Appetite by David Arnold

I picked up Kids of Appetite fairly recently. It was one of my typical young adult impulse purchases. What stood out to me about this one was the beautiful cover design, the fact that it was set in Hackensack, New Jersey (a place I took a surreal vacation to in my younger days), and the fact that it was written by David Arnold. Arnold made some serious waves in the young adult community with his first novel, Mosquitoland. I haven't read that one yet, but I heard an insane amount of good things about it, so I figured that this novel, his second, was a safe bet. I pulled it off the shelf on a whim, looking for something a bit lighter after the dark majesty that was We Have Always Lived in the Castle. 

The novel begins at a police station, where our two protagonists are being interrogated in separate rooms. We are told that a murder has occurred and both characters witnessed it. Few details are given in the beginning; the only concrete fact the reader is given is that both characters are desperately trying to drag out their interrogations for as long as possible. Quite mysterious.

The first character we meet is Victor Benucci, a high school student still reeling from the death of his father two years before. As if that isn't hard enough for him to process, he was also born with Moebius Syndrome, a condition in which his facial muscles are totally paralyzed. He can't show expressions, can't blink, and slightly drools all the time. The second is Madeline Falco, an eighteen year old girl struggling to make her way in the world after the death of both of her parents in a drunk driving accident. She lives with her uncle, her only remaining relative, but his drinking is out of control and he is becoming abusive. The narration shifts between them from chapter to chapter, and as they give their interviews (very slowly) to the police, the full picture of what they witnessed emerges.

Tied up in the recounting of the murder is the evolution of Vic and Mad's relationship, and Vic's quest to spread his father's ashes around the New Jersey/New York area in several specific places. The story is difficult to summarize as it involves a lot of backstory, but essentially, Vic's journey begins when his mother receives a marriage proposal from her boyfriend. He freaks out at what he sees as a betrayal to the memory of his father, grabs his father's urn full of ashes, and runs out his front door. His initial plan is to scatter his father's ashes at a museum he likes to hang out at, but when he opens the urn to do so, he discovers a letter from his father inside of it. The letter lists five specific places that he would like his ashes spread, but the letter is meant for Vic's mother, so it's written using inside references to their relationship - to an outsider, it isn't understandable. Vic decides to make it his mission to figure out the locations in the letter and fulfill his father's last wishes before returning home again.

As he is trying to do this, he runs into a group of ragtag kids from his neighborhood that are always hanging out together. The kids all have troubled backgrounds and are essentially homeless. Mad is a member of this group. They all live together in an abandoned greenhouse in a closed-down botanical garden. As helping people is what this group always tries to do, they offer to help Vic with the ashes. Sparks ensue between Mad and Vic, mysteries are solved, love blossoms, and, eventually, a murder occurs. It's quite a long, winding story.

I had very mixed feelings on this novel. Some of the aspects that I liked were the non-sequential storytelling and the mystery elements. Both the murder and the quest of the ashes were interesting storylines, and wanting to figure out what happened kept me reading. There were a lot of heartfelt moments as well, with the themes of friendship and kindness having a prominent place in the story. The ending of the novel was pretty cool as well, as it had a neat little twist that framed the story nicely and offered some extra information about some of the more minor characters. I mostly enjoyed reading this, and it went relatively quickly.

What I didn't like was David Arnold's tone and style. He clearly graduated from the John Green school of young adult fiction; his characters are impossibly eccentric and quirky, a manic pixie dream girl teaches a geeky boy how to love, frequent references to literature and music that no modern teenager would know fill the pages, and everyone is an incredible smart-ass with perfect comedic timing. I am officially weary of these tropes. Instead of seeing humor and beauty in Arnold's writing, I saw pretentiousness. I don't mean to say that his writing is bad, on the contrary, it is probably a great example of this particular style of storytelling, I just don't think I like it anymore. I'm getting burned out on sarcastic, wise-beyond-their-years teenagers, I guess.

Because it felt like every sentence was crafted specifically to go on a "clever quotes" list, I had difficulty connecting with the characters. I thought the constant one-liners undercut the very serious problems the characters were facing. There is no better example of this than Coco, one of the kids that hangs around with Vic and Mad. She is only eleven, and has run away from home. She can't go to school because she can't provide an address or a guardian name, so she lays around in the greenhouse all day, stuffs herself full of junk food, and swears profusely. This wasn't funny to me (in fact, it was rather alarming), but the group didn't seem to have a problem with it. Her situation is disturbing, but it was played for laughs. Inclusions like this made the story feel odd, like the situations didn't match the emotions. It featured kids with very serious problems, but the overall mood was lighthearted. The kids don't have regular access to a toilet, shower, laundry, or kitchen, but hey, at least they're having fun and being cool, right? It is clear that the group existed just to further Vic's character development, and their situation would not be tenable in real life.

I also got confused about who was narrating which parts of the story, as both Vic and Mad are written using the same voice, more or less. Their quirks are different, but their general personalities are the same, an offense that's difficult to excuse in a story with split narration. I think Arnold struggled with writing a believable teenage girl, as Mad came off as the weaker character to me. I found myself frequently pausing in my reading and looking back to figure out who was talking.

Despite all that, Kids of Appetite wasn't a terrible read. I enjoyed parts of it and rolled my eyes at others. It's the very definition of a "meh" kind of book. I'm disappointed with this as I know David Arnold has a lot of fans, but this wasn't the story for me. However, if the story wasn't for me, I wonder who exactly this novel was written for. It's classified as a young adult book, but it contains vocabulary and references clearly designed for an older audience. I doubt that very many teenagers would catch all the meanings behind the jokes. I think it's meant, at least partially, for older women that like to dabble in young adult fiction. This would normally include me, but the issues with uneven tone made it a bit too juvenile for me to enjoy. I still want to give Mosquitoland a shot due to all the praise its received, but Kids of Appetite isn't destined to become a favorite. On the brighter side, at least I have another book for the donate pile.

Challenge Tally:

Clear the Shelves 2018: 14 books donated


Total Books Read in 2018: 28