Showing posts with label Crossover. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Crossover. Show all posts

April 30, 2018

Monday Review: THE QUEEN OF SORROW by Sarah Beth Durst

Synopsis: I loved the first two books in Sarah Beth Durst's Queens of Renthia trilogy, so I was thrilled to have the opportunity to read a review copy of the upcoming third book, The Queen of Sorrow (out on May 15th). If you haven't read the first two, you might want to skip this review in case of spoilers!

Right, on to the good stuff. In this last installment of the trilogy, we pick up where the second book, The Reluctant Queen (reviewed here), left off. The forested land of Aratay is settling into having two queens: the young Queen Daleina, left in power after the violent slaughter of the other potential heirs; and Queen Naelin, a mother of two who possesses more raw power over the land's spirits than just about anyone. But while the two queens of Aratay have been figuring out how to rule in tandem, the ambitious Queen Merecot of Semo, to the north, has been making some plans of her own in order to deal with her country's excess of spirits. When two strange, foreign spirits swoop in and steal Queen Naelin's children, Merecot is the natural suspect…

Observations: Fans of the first two books will find this a satisfying conclusion to the trilogy, continuing the complex and believable character development of the first two as well as the action, adventure, and intriguing setting. Naelin and Daleina are both very relatable characters, with flaws and quirks that balance out their strength and power. They have love lives and families, feelings and interests beyond the paths that have been chosen for them, and they struggle to maintain normality and humanity in the face of challenges ranging from the everyday to the wondrously, frighteningly magical.

There was also a twist toward the end of the book that I loved. I could sort of see it coming, but not in the sense that it was predictable—just in the sense that that was the choice *I* would have made if I'd been writing, and it was what I really WANTED to see happen. It felt very RIGHT. As someone currently struggling with some plot dilemmas, I really appreciated seeing the story build toward what felt like a natural, inevitable conclusion.

Conclusion: What more can I say? A strong, exciting, page-turning conclusion to the trilogy, and another wonderfully unique world from an always imaginative author.


This review is based on the advance review copy, which I received courtesy of the author and publisher. Starting on May 15th, you can find THE QUEEN OF SORROW by Sarah Beth Durst at an online e-tailer, or at a real life, independent bookstore near you!

March 14, 2018

Surveying Stories: Separating Fears and Identifying Heart's Desires in T. Kingfisher's SUMMER IN ORCUS

1. Don't worry about things that you cannot fix. 2. Antelope women are not to be trusted. 3. You cannot change essential nature with magic.

In the stressful days of last summer, Ursula Vernon, through the pen of T. Kingfisher, started a twice-weekly fantasy serial about an eleven-year-old girl. It was not, she informed her Patreons, for middle graders, despite the title character's age.

In time, the series became the highlight of a rather lackluster few months, and patrons hugely supported a Kickstarter to have it printed in hardback with illustrations by Lauren "Luve" Henderson. I chose to wait for the bound book to arrive, instead of finishing the serial, and frequently wondered exactly what in the conclusion of the book would prove it wasn't for middle graders... would it be Baba Yaga, and her scary dual nature as cranky grandmother type and periodic sales person carnivore? Would it be tragic Donkeyskin, or the frog tree? Could it be the deceit of Antelope Women everywhere? Or, the warlike legacy of Zultan Houndbreaker and the Queen-in-Chains? No - as Tech Boy and I read the finished copy, I reconfirmed that these are deliciously scary and delightfully fanciful elements which are a hook, drawing the reader onward.

So, where might the problem lie? In the journey.

As we've discussed before, middle school is an immense time of change and pressure, and in Summer's case, her main adversary in her journey to maturation is not her peers - they barely cause a blip in Summer's mind. It is instead her mother who is her adversary, jealous of her personal thoughts, encroaching on her personal space, and unable to allow her daughter a moment's peace without her smothering hopes and terrors, all in the name of love. Like a too-small pot causing roots to be knotted and unable to take in sufficient nutrients, Summer's mother isn't allowing her to grow.

Very few contemporary middle grade novels tackle the grinding, long-term phenomenon of the parental bullying/emotionally diminishing parent and the caretaker child (maybe the last one I read was by Cynthia Ryland in the 90's). This subject seems limited to YA readership, but for many children fulfilling the complex needs of a damaged parent begins in elementary school and morphs into something burdensome and strange well before high school. Summer's needy, hyperprotective mother and the journey which Summer undertakes into another world to find a similar issue isn't something every middle grader will be able to relate to, but the way the novel is written, with excitement and danger and wry humor, I believe that plenty of tweens will relate well enough not to be bored by Summer's fear, or the lack of major battle scene. SUMMER IN ORCUS is an excellent older middle grade novel with familiar tropes and portal novel elements. Summer's quest was to find her heart's desire... and in her search, we discover the desire of the hearts of most of us. With all that being said,

Let's survey a story!


When the witch Baba Yaga walks her house into the backyard, eleven-year-old Summer enters into a bargain for her heart’s desire. Her search will take her to the strange, surreal world of Orcus, where birds talk, women change their shape, and frogs sometimes grow on trees. But underneath the whimsy of Orcus lies a persistent darkness, and Summer finds herself hunted by the monstrous Houndbreaker, who serves the distant, mysterious Queen-in-Chains…

From the Hugo and Nebula award winning author of "Digger" and "Jackalope Wives" comes a story of adventure, betrayal, and heart's desire. T. Kingfisher, who writes for children as Ursula Vernon, weaves together a story of darkness, whimsy, hope and growing things, for all the adults still looking for a door to someplace else.

Baba Yaga is as ambiguous as she is terrifying. In Slavic folklore, she's almost seen as a trickster, at times being revered as a Crone of great wisdom and insight, and in other moments, an antagonistic threat parents use to frighten their children into submission. Baba Yaga might eat you. She might beat you about the head with her pestle. She might just pat you on the head, and go away. Really, you never know. The day Summer meets Baba Yaga is one of Baba's good days, according to the skull door knocker on her chicken-legged house...which speaks to anyone unwise enough to encounter Baba Yaga's door. Summer wisely checks the lay of the land via the skull - which proves to stand her in good stead later on.

Beginning a portal fantasy with the entrance of Baba Yaga is a clear signal to readers that chancy times are ahead - things could go perfectly well, and the story wind up with a significant HEA, or ... it could all go straight down the loo pretty much immediately, with lots of lumps and bruises from a well-wielded stone mortar. I loved that Baba Yaga both begins and ends this novel, which provides a perfectly satisfying story arc, and informs us that LIFE in the real world is just as chancy as a summer's day in Orcus... Baba Yaga introduces herself to Summer for the sole purpose, she says, of offering Summer her heart's desire. Summer doesn't go looking for this boon, nor does she ask for it, nor does she know what that could possibly be. And yet, when Baba Yaga offers you something... well, if you don't know if she'll suck your marrow or send you on your way, you take it... right? Or don't you? Summer's first lesson is quickly apparent, and repeats itself through the many traveling days, Be careful what you wish for.

Through the machinations of a lit candle and an opened door, Summer is plopped into another world without a map or much of a guide but a weasel in her pocket. Surprisingly, she does have instructions of a sort - three, guiding principles by which she must view life in Orcus... and possibly elsewhere. In the real world, we often encounter guiding principles framed by persons or institutions like churches, and if we're wise, we can understand and apply them. More often, in the high chaos and noise of the world we cannot and they're true things we remember after the fact, or which echo upon reading, but are soon forgotten. Summer mainly holds onto one of the rules, 1. Don't worry about things that you cannot fix. This serves her well both in Orcus and will when she's back home again.

As Summer is ostensibly in Orcus to locate her heart's desire, she is soon confused about why she has been sent to a land which has been once torn by war, and is now not quite healed and in so much need. How is it that human hearts are meant to find their truest voice in a world so filled with other things which are broken and leaking chaos and dying? With the addition of a nattily dressed gent called Reginald (of the Almondsgrove Hoopoes) and a splendid cottage wolf to their party, readers are reminded that the world isn't all bad, and that company along the road can make most things bearable.

The world is still broken, and grows darker - and this is where Kingfisher's novel may speak more to adults. Summer is still, in spite of everything, meant to be finding her heart's desire, as we often are called on to carry on with fixing things while on a personal level we're trying hard to shut out the noise and listen for ourselves. While it might be difficult for a tween to articulate, what we want, and who we want to be is at the beating centers of all of our hearts. The worst thing about having a mother like Summer's is that Summer cannot hear her own heart - she hears her mother's. She feels her mother's worries and frequent weeping fears. She bears her mother's burdens, and her grief. Summer has to deny her own self in favor of her mother, and it is a burden both unfair, unjust, and unwieldy. What Baba Yaga does for Summer in giving her Orcus, more than anything, is give her a time away from everything she has had to carry for so long, and lets her know that it has strengthened her enough to carry a cheese knife for someone else's sake. This resonated strongly with me.

This is where the magic lies -- in T. Kingfisher's book, and in all books which carry us away, in portal fantasy in particular, which allows us to believe that things could be different, if we opened the correct wardrobe, and in Orcus in specific, where Summer finally discovers that she can be all she thought she might be when she isn't bent double under an inheritance of anxiety and depression that isn't hers to own. Summer is, by Baba Yaga's observation, "dangerously ignorant," and it's not just of the world outside of her backgarden gate -- Summer is dangerously ignorant of herself. But, it's not wholly her fault - unless she refuses to do the work of looking within to know herself. This is subtly conveyed throughout the story - Summer makes several mistakes from sheer innocence, and it nearly costs her her life in the end - but after every flub, she learns to listen to herself, to hear, and to act on her own advice. At journey's end, you cannot imagine that Summer is still the same innocent, "sweet summer child," as it were. She Knows Things. She knows herself a little better. And that cannot help but change her, for the better.

In the larger world, family is imperfect - and entangled familial relationships often a burden, to be blunt. Our world is messy, dying, and packed full of the deceitful and unkind. And yet, the journey to find one's heart's desire can still be an adventure worth taking. The act of saving one tiny part of the dying world is still an action worth taking. One frog tree, alive and well, is worth all the bruises and terror, and deceptive antelope women in the world.

Afterward, when all has been said and done, Baba Yaga is there to grant you entrance back into the world from which you came - with its insults and burdens, and deceptions and degenerations. You are home. You may not have your cheese knife, but you can manage the battles in the real world, the battles between someone else's concerns, and the ones which concern you. And knowing that, more than anything, is the summation of any heart's desire, middle grader or adult.



I received my copy of this book courtesy of a Kickstarter purchase. You can find T. Kingfisher's SUMMER IN ORCUS in ebook form on Amazon, possibly in print via Sofawolf Press or as a freebie read on the Red Wombat Studio website. Enjoy.

February 23, 2018

Turning Pages Reads: THE RULES AND REGULATIONS FOR MEDIATING MYTHS AND MAGIC by F.T. LUKENS

Welcome to another session of Turning Pages!

Synopsis: Hungry to inhabit his true self, Bridger Whitt will do anything to find a job to help him finance attending college out of state. He’s desperate enough to take a Craigslist interview with a weird entrance exam... no, a seriously weird entrance exam, as in, "Will you enter the office via the window?" He's determined enough to ignore any… little oddities about his magically-everywhere boss (exactly what was Pavel doing out at Lake Michigan when Bridger was there and just happened to be being drowned... by... Things with sharp teeth and cheerfully malicious expressions?!), and has almost entirely tuned out the disembodied voices he sometimes hears around the office. Despite discovering his boss’s true identity, regardless of learning that his crush, Leo, may actually crush on him right back, despite all signs lining up for a HEA, Bridger still can’t find a reason to stay home. After all, there’s nothing to do, and nowhere to grow in the provincial, conservative small town of Midden, Michigan. You can only discover what's real, if you go away and pursue it. Real life can only be magical elsewhere… right?

Observations: Truly, there's no place like home - and this novel brings that theme fresh life, by examining the presupposition that a.) our high school and college years are The Best Years of Our Lives (TM), and b.) that those Best Years can only happen well away from the familiar, known, and loved. This book talks about coming out and Becoming in a way which allows it to be a process that happens internally, and externally, with constant course corrections and revelations along the way. The romance, while not central to the plot, is just squeezable.

However swoon-worthy the romance is, however, what I most appreciate is how much this is a family story. In the best and most inclusive, expansive of ways, F.T. Lukens reminds us that family CAN mean a long-suffering mother who works her butt off for you, and is hopeful she's making up for you not having a Dad, but also it can additionally mean a tough-as-nails Harriet-the-Spy type who loves you, spies on you, then kicks your butt for keeping secrets - like the sister you never knew you needed, a boss and a mentor who both challenges you to rise up, but holds you as you fall apart, and pixies who cheer for you in tiny, tinny, high-pitched, annoying voices, but come on, at least they're not laughing while unicorns try to kill you this week. Or, whatever.

With endless dry humor and plenty of quirky charm, this book never tries too hard, or goes for the easy laugh. It removes itself from some of the stereotype of YA lit with a tight, loving relationship between teen and parent, and allows older people and younger people the respectful, reliant relationships they sometimes have in real life. And the humor just gives the difficulties and subtleties Bridger has while navigating the real world even more life. There's magic. There's mythos. There's a really cranky Sasquatch. While the novel is YA in spirit, it also crosses over for to be enjoyable for other ages, and could be appropriate for adults through older middle grade. While Bridger is definitely moving along toward adulthood - but this doesn't mean he's making all adult decisions - definitely not in the thriving metropolis that is... Midden(and I can't even tell you how much I love that name).

Conclusion:F.T. Lukens brings a joyfully charming innocence into this endearing adventure of a snarky, fearful boy who thinks he is fleeing toward the big, real world — when THE RULES AND REGULATIONS FOR MEDIATING MYTHS & MAGIC reveal that there is more wonder, magic, love, — and terrifying unicorns — in the known world he knows than he could have ever imagined. While I try to review without bias, this was one of my all-time FAVORITE Cybils books of 2018, I have zero chill discussing it, and I want you to read it, too.



I received my copy of this book courtesy of Duet Books, for the Cybils Awards, for which this book was a finalist. You can find THE RULES AND REGULATIONS FOR MEDIATING MYTHS AND MAGIC by F.T. Lukens at an online e-tailer, or at a real life, independent bookstore near you!

August 22, 2017

Turning Pages Reads: LANDSCAPE WITH INVISIBLE HAND by M.T. ANDERSON

Welcome to another session of Turning Pages!

M.T. Anderson is the king of the intellectual young adult novel. His work is arguably not written for young adults, but rather simply marketed toward them, because his characters are teens and tweens whose behavior is not circumscribed by the "usual" teen boundaries which get books challenged and called out by concerned parents. A lot of times, teens might not truly even quite understand M.T. Anderson's novels... but there's definitely still something about them that makes them fascinating, worth rereading, arguing with friends about, and dissecting in English class. This novel is just about how fragile our society is, and how, if one leeetle domino was pushed, how quickly it would all fall apart, and what do we REALLY know, and what do we REALLY cherish and what REALLY has value in what we have now -- today? And that kind of observation and rumination is very intelligent - and something we all need to consider.

This is another classically Anderson book - a short, stabby little satire, with a dark futures, existentialist narrative that might upset some - but which will amuse and provoke others to further consideration and insight.

Synopsis: Adam Costello's carefully ordered world began to unravel when the vuvv landed on Earth. Not that the vuvv are killers or anything, no. They've just brought progress - all at once, igniting a new kind of class war. Now, there's no need to work, because the vuvv do all the jobs; no need to research and strive, becaue the vuvv have brought the cure of all illnesses. At the expense of human jobs, Earth's ecology, and myriad nations' sovereignties, the Earth has been made a client planet. Now there's no competition, because the vuvv have the least expensive everything. Farmers are undersold, goods are commercially produced elsewhere, and all the new tech and medicine is behind a steadily rising paywall. For those who made relationships with the vuvv early on, there are riches untold. For the "have nots," there's nothing, literally and truly nothing. People are bored, bitter, and starving. All that seems left is for humans to try and be and do what the vuvv see and enjoy - the 1950's in terms of art, music, and film. Entertaining the uber-rich and the vuvv, humanity scrambles to be funny, romantic, sexy, and pleasing. It is both lowering and amusing that adult humans, with advanced degrees, can think of nothing else to do to survive but to pander.

Adam doesn't fit into the new world order really well. This is not because he has not tried, and tried hard, with an entertainment vlog scheme hatched up by he and his lust neighbor, Chloe. For a while, they made decent money off their scheme. But lust doesn't last for long. Adam's crush wants to Be Somebody, and Adam, whose father has stolen their means of travel and disappeared into the night, is kind of a nobody. His mother is unemployed, his baby sister is grimly selling her stuffed animals, and Adam is desperately ill, from a gastrointestinal disease which he got from the unfiltered water that his family is forced to drink. With municipal utilities no longer under the control of anyone with a human digestive system, Adam is hardly anyone to inspire lust - especially not without health insurance or medication. Between bouts of horrible fevers, diarrhea, and flatulence, Adam tries to determine what is of value to the human world anymore, now that the vuvv determine value. What Adam really cares about is his art, and while he once made computer landscapes of fantastical beauty as the places to which he'd like to escape, now he processes all he sees and feels through the medium of paint. He paints what he sees - not a brave new world, or castles in the air, but the detritus of a dying civilization, and the oddly tacked on ephemera of the vuvv society. What the vuvv want to see in art are still life and kitsch, bright colors and castles in the sky. While most people will do anything to survive in this brave new world, the artist in Adam realizes that he can't give them what they want, and that, in a larger parallel, that maybe none of humanity can give the vuvv what they want.

Maybe it would be better if everyone stopped trying.

Observations: This novella-length satire is, in some part, about art and humanity. It is also about, in part, the way the United States relates to the rest of the world, and its colonialist attitudes. This is a novel about how everything is monetized, and only those who are workers or somehow "valuable" to what Important People need and want - entertainers, worker bees, soldier drones - are worth anything in Western society. This is also a book about family, and individuals, and what we do to survive. It is both sparsely written and terse, and voluminously artistically rendered. It is both bleak and grim, and sneakily, snarkily funny.

I noticed that there really was only one America in this novel, and that Adam didn't seem to know anything about how the vuvv interacted with anywhere which wasn't America. The were issues where people complained that immigrants were stealing jobs, and knocking apart bodegas, but the vuvv seem to see humanity as just... humanity, a group of cattle worth corralling. Ironic, that humans still blamed humans for what was going on, and yet... isn't that what we do? Isn't that what we always will do? Or, do we have it in us to try something else?

Conclusion: Adam and his frequent, explosive gastrointestinal disorder is going to gross out and confuse a lot of readers, young and old, but this is one of those short pieces of literature which we'll see later as a classic of economic thought and worth sticking with and returning to again. While it would be a challenge to teach, it would be a worthwhile challenge, and I look forward to hearing how it is received.



I received my copy of this book courtesy of the publisher. After September 12th, you can find LANDSCAPE WITH INVISIBLE HAND by M.T. Anderson at an online e-tailer, or at a real life, independent bookstore near you!

August 16, 2017

In Tandem Reads: THE NEW VOICES OF FANTASY edited by PETER S. BEAGLE & JACOB WEISMAN

SFF is ...changing. Long the bastion of men, especially white men, the genre's stories and boundaries are at last making room for a greater variety of voices and points of view. 2017 has been a particular great year for that in our corner of the woods with FIYAH Lit Magazine, showcasing African American SFF; Comic Con this summer celebrated more diverse characters in comic books and films, including a superb Muslim crimefighter; the Star Trek TV series franchise is being resurrected with black and Asian female crew members, as well as the usual undefined aliens; and of course, everyone is still vibrating over the Star Wars beloved General Leia and the new strong female leads in that world. All of this means that when we had the opportunity to read the New Voices in Fantasy Anthology, we both jumped at the chance.

New Voices is not a YA anthology, although there are contributors who write for YA and MG lit included, but we wanted to look it over anyway, because we strongly support diverse voices in science fiction and fantasy. So, without further ado:

Welcome to another edition of In Tandem, the read-and-review blog series where both A.F. and I give on-the-spot commentary as we read and blog a book together. (Feel free to guess which of us is the yellow owl and which of us is purple ...who's driving this bike??)
We are...
Two writers,
     & Two readers,
            Exploring one book...

In Tandem.




What would you do if a tornado wanted you to be its Valentine? Or if a haunted spacesuit banged on your door? When is the ideal time to turn into a tiger? Would you post a supernatural portal on Craigslist? In these nineteen stories, the enfants terribles of fantasy have entered the building—in this case, a love-starved, ambulatory skyscraper. The New Voices of Fantasy tethers some of the fastest-rising talents of the last five years, including Sofia Samatar, Maria Dahvana Headley, Max Gladstone, Alyssa Wong, Usman T. Malik, Brooke Bolander, E. Lily Yu, Ben Loory, Ursula Vernon, and more. Their tales were hand-picked by the legendary Peter S. Beagle (The Last Unicorn) and genre expert Jacob Weisman (The Treasury of the Fantastic). So go ahead, join the Communist revolution of the honeybees. The new kids got your back.

“This anthology represents some of the most exciting and interesting work in the fantasy field today, and anyone interested in the genre should read it immediately.” —Booklist ♦ “...a valuable snapshot of SF/F’s newest generation of writers.” —Publishers Weekly ♦ “A stellar anthology that proves not only that fantasy is alive and well, but that it will be for years to come.” —Kirkus
We received copies of this book courtesy of the publishing company, via NetGalley. You can find THE NEW VOICES OF FANTASY edited by Peter S. Beagle & Jacob Weisman at an online e-tailer, or at a real life, independent bookstore near you!
 



tanita: I don't know why, but I love, love, love anthologies. Maybe it's the little snippets of someone's work, which gives me a jumping-off point to getting to know them as a writer. Maybe it's the reality that sometimes, I don't have mental bandwidth for a long novel, but there's always time for a story. Maybe it's just that I have attention deficits. I enjoy how some stories turn out to be favorites, and others, not so much, which is always my experience - which makes even reading something I'm not sure I like A Good Thing. You were remarking the other day how hard it is to read them sometimes, though. I agree... this was both fun, and really hard!

sarah: I guess any "new voices" type of thing is going to be highly varied. It's hard for me to do more than a few stories a day... Is it weird that I find short stories require more stamina in a way than novels?
tanita: No, no - not at all. I had to put this down and come back to it repeatedly. For me, the issue with anthologies, where there are rich, fully realized stories is that I can't change lanes that fast. The finned Chevy of my imagination is hurtling down the dark freeway, weird sights blurring as I fly by... and then the story ...ends. I have to find where the car went and turn it around before I can start something new.

The stories featured in this collection were were fully realized, fully populated little worlds we spent time in. Which one was your favorite? Or, which two, probably, that you're having a hard time picking between?
sarah: I have to admit, I'm kind of a sucker for selkie stories--for anything based on myth, really--and so I think my favorite of the bunch is Sofia Samatar's "Selkie Stories Are for Losers." It also is a YA-friendly story, and was nominated for several awards. It does such an amazing job of doing what myths do best--they teach us something about ourselves, show us what already exists in our all-too-human hearts that has existed through history and across time. In the same way, the selkie has both a literal and a metaphorical role in Samatar's story.
tanita: Funny - for the selfsame reason, I kind of hate selkie stories; I find them tragically sad, which is why I loved the Samatar's story -- because her character, too, came from a place of where the story of selkies and sentient sea creatures IS traditionally tragic, and so she decided to reject those stories, in a show of bravado, despite that story being HER story. Similar in themes of loss of wildness and freedom was the story of the anarchist bees - and well done to that person for being able to portray a hivemind in a story - and of course, the Jackalope Wives... I am SO here for any Vernon story, anytime. While I had read this particular story before (which kind of detracts from the "new" voices in the title), I'm glad to see her non-kid work find a larger audience.
sarah: I also liked Ursula Vernon's "Jackalope Wives"--not surprisingly. I'm already a fan of her work for young readers (e.g. the Dragonbreath graphic novels). 

Other stories I enjoyed were "Tornado's Siren" by Brooke Bolander for sheer uniqueness of concept; "Left the Century to Sit Unmoved" by Sarah Pinsker for being YA-friendly, very literary, and leaving the reader with intriguing questions; and "Here Be Dragons" by Chris Tarry for having an interesting new take on dragons and dragonslayers.
tanita: There were echoes, in "The One They Took Before," by Kelly Sandoval, of Seanan McGuire's EVERY HEART A DOORWAY trilogy that was really haunting, in combination with the weirdness of Craigslist. But, my favorite of the new-to-me pieces was Max Gladstone's "A Kiss With Teeth," which started off with me feeling pretty unsure of things... In a novel filled with pieces which will appeal to adults and teens alike, this is definitely an adult story. Parents looking back at their lives before becoming part of the Upright Citizens Brigade and remembering when once they were vampire and vampire hunter, when the night was filled with menace and promise and dangerous, obsessive romance... I adored it. I love that story because it's about maturing - and maturity is something you just don't read a whole lot about in speculative fiction, despite the thousand-year-lived vampires and the like that you get in urban fantasy. More often, you get the angst and drama of what happens when people live nearly forever and don't mature, but just... roll into later adulthood, still acting a fool. It was partly side-eyeing those types of stories, and partially celebrating settled, selfless, mature relationships. Which is super rare. Having read that, I'm very much open to finding Gladstone's other work for adults, in a way I wasn't prior to now (although, not going to lie - I have been struck by the wonderful representation on the covers of his books. I mean, look at this!).


sarah: Yes, I enjoyed the "but what happens AFTER?" approach of Gladstone's story--that was something I liked about "Here Be Dragons," too. There are so many tropes in fantasy, and that's not inherently bad, but fantastical creatures like dragons and vampires and werebeasts and whatnot have been done in the same way so many times (hence the trope, I suppose). Bringing a new approach to existing tropes is something that was well done in this anthology as a whole.

tanita: What else stood out to you about this collection in terms of theme or stylistic choices, or anything, really?
sarah: I wanted to just mention how much I enjoyed the variety and risk-taking in terms of form and storytelling approach--there were surprises at every turn, from unusual characters like bees, buildings, and ducks, to unique conceits of form like the how-to guide, Craigslist ad, and anthropological study. I really enjoyed "The Pauper Prince and the Eucalyptus Jinn" by Usman T. Malik for its sweeping, epic, multigenerational look at jinn mythology--great to see something that's not from the well-used Western mold. I'm already a fan of Rushdie, who similarly draws on the history and myth of the Indian Subcontinent, and I'm glad to see more writing in that vein.
tanita: Oh, yes! My main interest in choosing this anthology is that it is aimed at "new voices;" the overarching meaning, in this particular, is not solely stories I haven't yet read from "new" to the field authors, but additionally, nonwhite voices in fantasy, which brings that new vibe to the entire genre. Usman T. Malik allowed us to glimpse both old Lahore, new, busy Lahore, and the mental and physical and spiritual space in between, bridged by the character's life in the West. It was enchanting, in part because the story was about family stories, and how they stretch the truth and what we understand of truth through time. Wouldn't it be lovely, if an aging relative could remember themselves in another time, in their dementia -- and it would all be real? That... in a way would redeem old age and remakes it into something beautiful.

And, in a way, that's what the whole anthology does. Familiar bits of ephemera from our imaginations, from our urban myths and legends, from our cultures and our worlds have been transmuted into something both less familiar and more knowable, both more off-puttingly gross and horrible (and there are some prime bits of horror in this collection - eek), and more charmingly disturbing. This collection runs a good gamut. It's meaty stuff, and could easily be taken along to ease the pain of airports and train rides. It's absorbing and invites the reader to a feast of a thousand different senses. It's not our usual fare here at the Treehouse, but I'm glad we read it.


sarah: Me, too! It definitely fulfills our goal to read widely and diversely, something that we both try to do as much as possible--just not usually at the same time...  In this case, though, a tandem review seemed like a good way to survey the gamut of stories in the anthology--we each responded to different ones, and as a result, hopefully, we were able to do it justice as a collection...and tempt you into picking it up, perhaps.

Thanks for joining us on our latest tandem review journey!

August 09, 2017

Turning Pages Reads: YOU BRING THE DISTANT NEAR by MITALI PERKINS

Welcome to another session of Turning Pages!

It is the best of times... it is the worst of times. It is the time of unremitting nonsense. It is the time of sobering reality. It is a time of despair, it is a time for hope. Which means it's a perfect time for this gorgeous, gorgeous book.

Synopsis: Bengali sisters Tara and Sonia Das both want different things - Tara, to finally fit in to her place, Sonia, to have a moment -- a moment -- to herself to breathe, and write and think. With the help of their indulgent father and traditional mother, Tara fulfills her need to blend, first in London, then in the U.S. by calling on her vivid acting skills to inhabit and embody someone else. Sonia escapes to the fire escape with her notebook. Each girl's way of coping and acclimating to being an immigrant means stepping away from what they knew in London, and becoming someone new, even as they defend, in each other, what makes them who they are. Tara relies on her acting skills, as Sonia loses herself in her gifted classes. Family, even one as closely knit as the immigrant Das family has to be, is a sometimes fragile boat, and the expectations and stresses of the desire for a "good life" begin to feel like they're going to swamp it -- but finally as things work out, life in America seems sweeter. They finally live out their nicknames of "Sunny and Star" and have learned from living in Flatbush, have gained experiences and lost prejudices and gone where their parents cannot follow. Meanwhile, after tough times, their parents experience a renewal of their love - and Dad receives the promotion of which he spoke. The family ship remains upright and watertight -- and then, capsizes.

As Sonia and Tara leave home, each trying to rediscover her equilibrium, college brings more challenges and changes. There, they still grapple with who they are, and how they present themselves as both South Asians and Americans, as young woman and feminists. Each girls takes a a different track, which leads them into vastly different directions - one to small stages, then larger ones, then finally, to Mumbai; one straight back to Flatbush. Generations follow, each looking at their culture, language, and traditions with different eyes. When we are old, and when we are young, we are still challenged by how the world sees us, and must grapple with the questions of who we are, and who we want to be. What do we keep, that our families give us? What do we let fade away? What do we change to better suit ourselves? These are the heartfelt, crucial questions and observations the reader is confronted with, through three generations of shared sisterhood, culture, faith, and friendships.

Observations: With a shiny four starred reviews so far, we're very, very pleased to have had a chance to read and review our friend Mitali Perkins' latest book. (Also, Tanita is SUPER STOKED to have won it in a Goodreads giveaway - because THAT NEVER HAPPENS.) The beauty of having a hard copy of this book is the ability to pass it on. It could be given to a young adult -- but also to an older reader; the generational saga is beautifully inclusive. The jacket copy of this book uses the word "timeless," and though the eras and continents are distinctly laid out on the page, there is an element of "everyone"-ness that could make this story about any time, any lineage of women in any culture. It's a gifted rendering of what could be a very personal story - because there seem to be hints of autobiographical storytelling included - into something deeply universal.

I got choked up, laughed aloud, and became vexed with and for various characters at various times. Many teens will relate, both biracial and not -- to feeling pressure from family matriarchs who want their grand babies to be juuuust like them, despite the passage of time and eras. Questions of what beauty is, what womanhood means in feminist contexts and who best embodies these roles are things which the young and old women in this book encounter repeatedly. When Chantal's grandmothers join forces, they become TRULY their best selves. When the American cousin and the Mumbai cousins stop trying to change each other into being more or less immigrant or American, and truly see each other as they are - both, - the Das family remains unstoppable - strong, beautiful, and full of love that radiates to the world. Nosy aunties, scolding mothers, tsking uncles; Catholics, Hindus, atheists and all -- you'll want three generations of Das women to be your family, too.

Conclusion: This, more than anything, is a love story. How we love our sisters. How we love our families. How we love our cultures. How we hold each - and ourselves - lovingly, to a standard that says, 'we must improve. We must expand. We must be better than we were.' This is a love story about how we love those who are like us, and can come to loves those who are unlike us. It is a love story to hope, and the belief that, though we came from some distant then, now that we are here, we can choose to bring the old into the new, and love will ground and equal out the equation. We each of us inherits prejudices and circumstances; through our generations, we each can choose to leave those behind, and walk into a new world.

And I cannot articulate to you just how much I needed to have this book in my hand today.

It is lyrical, poetically beautiful writing, with realistic teen voices. It is a feminist book, about equal rights and inclusiveness without feeling like you're being schooled. Full stop: this is just a really great book, and I hope you have a chance to pick it up. It's worth it.



I received my copy of this book courtesy of the Goodreads Giveaway. You can find YOU BRING THE DISTANT NEAR by Mitali Perkins at an online e-tailer, or at a real life, independent bookstore near you!

July 10, 2017

Monday Review: THE RELUCTANT QUEEN by Sarah Beth Durst

Synopsis: Book 2 in Sarah Beth Durst's Queens of Renthia series is out--The Reluctant Queen--and it's a wonderfully bingeworthy summer read and a highly enjoyable sequel to the first book, The Queen of Blood (reviewed here). If you haven't read that yet, note that this review contains some minor spoilers…also, if you're a fantasy fan, do yourself a favor and go read it!

Okay, then. The Reluctant Queen picks up the story of Daleina after she has become queen of Aratay. Now she is the one tasked with keep the land's bloodthirsty elemental spirits under control. But there's a complication: Queen Daleina is deathly ill, and must find a successor to take her place or the spirits will go on a deadly rampage and destroy her people.

Queen Daleina sends her trusted champions out to find a likely candidate to be her heir, and after a long search they find someone powerful enough to be worthy of training. The problem is, Naelin is married, has two young children, and has NO interest in being anybody's heir or even in using her power at all…

Observations: This is a somewhat unusual and refreshing approach to a fantasy heroine: not someone who is young and untested, ready and willing to prove herself, but instead someone who is older, ornery, and has neither the need nor desire to go off questing. She has to be goaded, coerced, tricked, and even forced into taking on the role, and even when she decides to go for it, she has misgivings. I liked that about this book—it was surprising from the beginning, and there were new surprises at every turn. All of it, of course, takes place in a wondrous setting full of magic and danger of the sort that Durst is so good at.

Conclusion: I am really getting back into my fantasy reading these days, but gravitating toward books with strong, prickly heroines who know their own minds—and this is an excellent example. Highly recommended for older YA and adult readers alike.


I received my copy of this book courtesy of the author/publisher (Thank you!!!). You can find THE RELUCTANT QUEEN by Sarah Beth Durst at an online e-tailer, or at a real life, independent bookstore near you!

May 09, 2017

Turning Pages Reads: MAUD by MELANIE FISHBANE

Welcome to another session of Turning Pages!

Synopsis: Maud has been left behind by her father, who has gone away to make a success of himself after the death of Maud's mother so long ago. Maud has been with her strict grandparents ever since, sweating away the muggy summers, longing to strip off her stockings and run down to the shore. Trouble at school found her sent away from her grandparents to act as live-in nanny and help raise her cousins for a while. Now she's back with her grandparents and meant to prove to them that she can be a good girl.

Unfortunately, trouble seems to find Maud wherever she goes. A friendship with the Baptist minister's son is seen as a signal that her morals are in question; regular girlish hijinks are reported on as being "just like her Mother." Maud has no idea what her mother was like -- she died when Maud was only a toddler, and no one will speak of her. Her grandparents clearly disapprove of Maud's father -- and now rumors are wafting about which confuse her even more. fortunately, Maud's father at long last sends for her. It's a treat to leave behind Price Edward Island and see the rest of the country, but when Maud arrives at her father's household, it's not quite as she expected. Her stepmother doesn't seem to like her very much, and it seems she'll be closest to the maid, instead of her new step-siblings. It seems that at every turn, Maud faces disappointments -- not truly feeling wanted within her own family, feeling tremendous pressure to have a beau, be the perfectly poised and ladylike person expected, to do her "duty" for her family at home and not go to school, to take care of others, and bite her tongue. It's a triumph when Maud finally does get a break, but it's a bittersweet story that a girl whose tales transported others lived such a sad story herself.

Observations: Not every classic stands the test of time. If I go back and read ANNE OF GREEN GABLES, the book is still a lovely memory of childhood, of kindred spirits and bosom friends, but Anne herself isn't as clear a favorite (EMILY OF NEW MOON, published fifteen years after Anne, shows Montgomery's skills to a much better advantage, but for some reason, the rabid fave is still Anne). Her constant imagination-induced scrapes and good-hearted sweetness can be a little much if one is unprepared, and reading now I see some of the narrowness and racism of Edwardian era British life reflected in Anne's eyes. Still, L.M. Montgomery's gifts somehow never lose their appeal, even over a hundred years later.

The voice in this book has a reserved and less immediate feel to it, reminiscent of Montgomery's books, but somehow not quite. I felt that the author had pulled a screen between me and the emotions of Maud as a character, whereas with any of L.M. Montgomery's work, its trademark is that the reader practically weeps and laughs with the character; somehow Montgomery's characterizations are that sharply felt. The story itself is a bit depressing; I knew a bit about Montgomery's life, and knew it had been an unhappy one, but found it difficult to connect this Maud in the historical fiction to the facts about her life. Many readers might find that this novel opens slowly, but it moves more quickly after Anne leaves Cavendish behind and heads to her father's house. Subsequent developments in her life feel a bit more energetic, as the author leaves the focus on Maud alone, instead of writing with more detail on the immense cast of secondary characters. It was fun finding out that Maud had a nickname with also had a particular spelling upon which she insisted ("With An E!") and to discover how much Anne and Maud were a lot alike, in some charming and vexing ways.

Conclusion: While this book is published in the YA/children's lit category, I feel like this book's best audience is adults. Tweens who read L.M. Montgomery books now can find them a little tough to get into the adventures of an Edwardian era orphan, and so a fictionalized biography of the author might not appeal, but for those of us who cut our teeth on Anne's adventures and her big-hearted emoting, this will have crossover appeal, and echo faintly of Anne.



I received my copy of this book courtesy of the publisher. After May 16th, can find MAUD by Melanie Fishbane at an online e-tailer, or at a real life, independent bookstore near you!

April 25, 2017

Turning Pages Reads: ROAD SIGNS THAT SAY WEST by SYLVIA GUNNERY

Welcome to another session of Turning Pages!

Synopsis: A content warning for suicide and troubling attention from adult men.When their parents depart on their long-planned for trip to Europe, 19-year-old Hanna springs the plan on her sisters, Megan and Claire - to take Mom's car the following day and go on a cross-country drive, from the Atlantic to the Pacific, Nova Scotia to Vancouver. Adventure, in the form of the Trans-Canada Highway is just a breath away - if they'll agree to it. 17-year-old Megan's not interested. She has a job and a life plan, to get fit for swim team tryouts come the fall, and she wants to stick to it. She likes adventure in measured, planned doses, nothing spur-of-the-second, like Hanna seems to always be. Claire, at fifteen, idolizes her older sisters, and only wants peace. If Hanna offers adventure, Claire wants to make sure she gets in on it - and that Megan goes along. And she does -- grudgingly -- briefly helping Claire create the united front of sisterhood. It lasts -- briefly -- until cracks begin to show.

There are other road-trippers along the way, hitchhikers, families, street buskers. Like a friendly butterfly, Hanna seems to alight on each one and engage with them, much to Megan's bitter observation. Aren't the sisters enough? Why does Hanna always have to go? Why can't she be average, like everyone else? She quits everything she starts - first University, then her nannying job in Italy, and now their big sisterhood trip. She talks them into attending the weddings of strangers, of bowling and partying, and she's not paying enough attention to Claire. She's such a sucky big sister.

There's something Hanna and Megan aren't telling Claire - something that happened with Hanna in Italy. Sometimes, Claire hates being the youngest, gets tired of keeping the peace between Megan's acid tongue and Hanna's blithe merriness. Can't Megan see there's something wrong with Hanna? No... of course not. Megan's suddenly got a crush on one of the people they meet along the road - and it's flaring up faster than Claire's ever seen. Hanna keeps disappearing, and Megan doesn't even notice. And, neither of her sisters can quite see that not all is well with Claire, either.

What started out as a lark turns into something deeper and broader, as the last summer three sisters are together ebbs and flows. They share a closeness and silently affirm their love, even as their good time eventually fades, like all things do, into memory.

Observations: This is a quiet book, a literary book, and a difficult story to cram between two plain paper covers. A sisterly Bildungsroman is both vast and deep; it covers the happenings over a summer, but also the tendencies of a lifetime thus far, in a way. The narrative is more a series of observations from inside the mind of each girl, and isn't always seamless. The "head-hopping" can be frustrating for a reader seeking a typical narrative with a rising narrative arc, and this book might be more appropriate to an older reader. I think it crosses over well into being an adult read.

Things happen in this novel, and yet, not much does. It's a road trip; there are long silences, periods of silent anger, spontaneous, giddy parties with strangers, and a lot of examining internal thoughts. Hanna thinks a lot about the terrible job in Italy, and the way it ended, with confusion and accusation of things which didn't happen - but things which, she is ashamed to admit, she dreamed of happening. Are we responsible for our dreams? Because we might want something, does that make us as bad as if we'd reached out and tried to take it? Does that mean we attract more of the same? Is it our fault?

Megan seems merciless; unforgiving, exacting, keeping count of how many times Hanna has disappointed her, to the detriment of her own enjoyment of life, and of her seeing Claire as anything but Hanna's yes-woman. When she finally thaws, her sisters are surprised -- but she freezes up again quickly. The novel unfortunately doesn't spend as much time with Megan, or on expository dialogue to help the reader see her inner mind, and the reader is left wondering what she really wants, except for her sister, Hanna, to stop leaving her behind. Her prickly resentfulness is shown at the end as a held-over childhood resentment, which makes her seem more pathetic than angry.

Claire's loss is recent enough that the shock hasn't finished with her. She's walking wounded, but doesn't know it, until she sits down long enough for the thoughts to filter through. It hits her, on this trip, that the friend she lost is never coming back, ever. She doubts herself, and second-guesses all of the conversations she had. Why hadn't she seen it coming? What does it say about her, that she missed so much pain? What if it happens again? Suddenly, Claire feels like a tiny speck in a massive world that has spun out of control... and her sadness is so great that it's crushing her. Maybe this is how her friend had felt, too...

The novel ends with trailing threads, and for some, the end will seem jarring. But, a road is a constant, just as the narrative of sisterhood and the process of growing, maturing, and separating is a common experience, in many ways. This constantly shifting narrative means that some things aren't resolved in this novel - bitterness remains bitter 'til the end, losses still pain, good times are ephemeral. The road goes on, but the one thing that remains is sisterhood. Despite everything, these girls will always be related.

Conclusion: Definitely not for the common crowd, this novel is made up of the pauses between growing pains, and will find its audience among those who have wished to draw closer to their families and see them as complex and enigmatic human beings, instead of the familiar souls they've always known. Perfect for people transitioning through stages of life, and wondering what more is out there.



I received my copy of this book courtesy of the publishers. After May 1, you can find ROAD SIGNS THAT SAY WEST by Sylvia Gunnery at an online e-tailer, or at a real life, independent bookstore near you!

September 19, 2016

Monday Review: THE QUEEN OF BLOOD by Sarah Beth Durst

Synopsis: The Queen of Blood, which comes out TOMORROW, is a foray into YA crossover fantasy by Sarah Beth Durst, author of numerous wonderful, whimsical, fantastical MG and YA fantasy titles such as (most recently) The Girl Who Could Not Dream (reviewed here). The author has such a facility for writing for all ages—her adult title The Lost (reviewed here) received acclaim as well—so I was not surprised at all that I enjoyed this one so much.

The Queen of Blood is Book 1 of the Queens of Renthia—Renthia being the world where the story takes place. In the nation of Aratay, as in the other lands in Renthia, there is an uneasy balance between the human denizens and the spirit world: spirits of earth, fire, ice, air, and water inhabit the natural world, and only the female humans might be born with the power to control and command spirits. The Queen of Aratay is the one who maintains this balance: selected from those with the innate ability and trained for years in the right skills to keep the human-hating spirits at bay.

Daleina grew up in the small village of Greytree on the forested fringes of Aratay, far from Queen and capital, training under the village headwitch to perhaps grow up and take her place. One fateful day, when Daleina is still a child, her village is attacked by spirits: something that isn't supposed to happen with the Queen in charge. But it sets events in motion, and Daleina finds herself a few years later just barely squeaking into the magical Academy at the capital, getting trained to use her rudimentary powers. Could someone as low in power as Daleina truly be in the running to be Queen? She doesn't know, but she's determined to learn as much as she can along the way…and help Aratay hold back the increasingly frequent spirit attacks. Of course, in a world that is increasingly subject to supposedly impossible incursions by malevolent spirits, one must expect the unexpected…and that pertains to Daleina's story, too.

Observations: There is an element of the magical school story in this one, like Harry Potter or (even more so) Princess Academy, and that is definitely a positive in my eyes. And like many school stories that revolve around the new kid, the smallest kid, etc., the protagonist goes from someone who is out of her element and seemingly lacks the same skill set as those around her, to realizing her own special and unique abilities and coming into her own power.

In fact, I think this is one of the areas where this book truly shines: Daleina is relatable because she is so very much someone who does not feel special at all, and yet she is. In compensating for the abilities she herself lacks, she is able to uniquely see and tap into the talents of those around her, and has the humility and pragmatism to actually do so. And this just might be the one skill that truly saves her life, and her world, as she grows into adulthood and is challenged in every way, physically, mentally, and magically.

Conclusion: I stayed away from specifics because this book was full of so many wonderful surprising elements in terms of world-building and the way the magic works, but here is one more teaser in case you need more reason to pick this one up: in Aratay, a forest world, everyone lives IN THE TREES, in magically grown houses that are an organic part of branches and tree trunks, getting around via bridges and zip lines from tree to tree and village to village, like Ewoks. If that isn't awesome enough for you, I don't know what is.


I received my copy of this book courtesy of the author/publisher via NetGalley. You can find THE QUEEN OF BLOOD by Sarah Beth Durst at an online e-tailer, or at a real life, independent bookstore near you TOMORROW!

August 23, 2016

Turning Pages Reads: ONCE, IN A TOWN CALLED MOTH, by TRILBY KENT

Welcome to another session of Turning Pages!

According to the PEW Research peeps, about 70% of people consider themselves religious in some fashion, whether through traditional Jewish, Muslim or Christian denominations or other neopagan practices like Wicca. For some reason, this is not readily reflected in YA lit, which poses the question, where are all the Baha'i and Baptists, the Confucianists and Catholics, the Jainists and the Jews? Where are the YA Mennonites and Muslims, the Adventists and the Anabaptists? As we see greater numbers of writers writing from their own experiences, in their own voices, it would only make sense that a diversity of faith experiences will appear as well - not in some special, segregated category, but as a normal part of the everyday experiences of some people, informing how and what they think, and in what ways they do and don't act. Though the jacket copy says Ana is "not your typical teenager," it is past time to dispense with the idea that there is one, normalized experience of adolescence, and that because this character is raised in faith, she is somehow Vastly Different. < / tinyrant>

Synopsis: A few days after an random act of violence in their village, Ana's father packs them up, and Ana and her father move from where Ana was born in Colony Felicida in Bolivia to Toronto, Canada. For some reason that's apparently to be kept secret, the tightly-knit Mennonite community which they once called home is to be forgotten. Now they're on the trail of Ana's mother who departed from the colony some years earlier.

Ana doesn't remember much about her mother, and never understood why she left them, but a good daughter, Ana's learned not to ask questions her Papa won't answer. Grappling with culture shock, at first, Ana's only able to deal with housekeeping and doing what she's told, anyway. It is a constricted, quiet life, but so far, but it doesn't last. In Toronto, there are neighbor kids who ask Ana to come outside, and at her father's urging, she goes. In Toronto, Ana discovers, fourteen year old girls have to go to school, not merely be the one who cooks the food and keeps the house. In Toronto, the girls have TV's and posters on their walls and listen to bands and wear very different clothes and ride in cars and have computers, and do myriad inexplicable things -- and in Toronto, there are posters on the street, and ribbons for a girl named Faith, who has disappeared.

Toronto is somewhat of a mystery.

In the Colony, there were mysteries things as well, Ana realizes. Not that many people disappeared, but there was the mysterious baby, the mysterious planes landing on their long driveway, and then her mother -- just gone, and Ana still doesn't know why. What Ana begins to understand, little by little, is that while there are mysteries, at some point people begin to understand them. She desperately wants to understand.

While nothing overtly dangerous occurs, Ana experiences bullying and some of the nastier elements of high school in the modern world. She begins to see that the world around her operates between what is on the surface, and darker currents beneath, currents into which it is easy to get in over her head. As Ana learns to find her own way, she's fortunate that a neighbor, Suvi and Suvi's friend, Mischa befriend her, instructing her on how to get along, and mostly accepting of her non-Canadian quirks. Their world is faster and louder and vastly different than what Ana's used to -- no one speaks Low German, or wears their waist-length, platinum blonde hair pinned in "Princess Leia" buns. No one says their mother is dead when she's really ...left their community and their family, and been gone so long you they can't remember her.

Though her mother is probably alive somewhere, in a city of several hundred thousand people, Ana isn't sure how she and her father are going to manage finding a single human being, much less someone who left them years ago, and who maybe wants to stay lost. And, now that they're in Toronto, Ana's beginning to lose her father, too. He's a man with his own secrets, his own darkness, and his silence weighs heavily. What isn't he telling Ana about her own life? Can she be an onlooker in it, and still have a life? Is now - in Toronto - the time to speak up, and try and steer her own course, in a way she did not in the Colony? This lyrically written novel is a search for identity both internally, and as citizens within the larger culture, as Ana navigates who she's been told she is, and who she decides she's going to be.

Observations: I picked up this book specifically because it is, in part, about living in, then leaving a Mennonite community. The author doesn't provide a window, particularly, into a Mennonite experience in terms of faith practices, etc., but a mirror into one young woman's path toward self-determination - through the lens of her experience as a Mennonite.

There are some very obvious pitfalls of a girl who has been raised in an insulated, sheltered way experiences when she comes into contact with the larger world. The author doesn't fall for cheap ploys to shock the reader. However, neither does she give readers as much of a viewpoint on what Ana thinks of everything, but more that she is now having to think of everything. She is described as studying faces from the sheer curiosity of seeing people who don't look like her, or don't look like relatives. She knows now that there are groups, such as the LGBTQ kids, the nerds, the cool kids, etc. She begins to understand the sociology of cultures as groups, but like an anthropologist, there isn't much emotional resonance as she becomes more aware. I found this an interesting way to experience the world with the character - and find it significant that the author studied Social Anthropology at the London School of Economics, and trained in journalism as well. The novel distances the reader at times with this more "I'm just an observer of your culture" feel, yet Ana isn't an unsympathetic character. Readers will especially cheer for her, as she makes clear-eyed observations about the adults around her and relish the realization that all of the adults in Ana's life underestimate her. She is better-equipped for the modern world than she thinks she is - possibly unrealistically better - but her quiet triumphs make for satisfying reading.

Conclusion: A quiet, beautifully written, literary novel which I can see being read as part of a classroom experience for history or social studies/sociology, as well as English. Full of evocative prose while keeping a simple narrative intact, this novel is threaded through with gems, giving readers a lot to sift through and discover.



I received my copy of this book courtesy of the publisher. After September 6th, can find ONCE IN A TOWN CALLED MOTH by Trilby Kent at an online e-tailer, or at a real life, independent Canadian bookstore near you!

April 29, 2016

Turning Pages Reads: EVERY HEART A DOORWAY by Seanan McGuire

Welcome to another session of Turning Pages!

Synopsis: The story of children vanishing isn't new; they slip between worlds even when they're safely at home. Mostly girls, because they're quieter, and not as quickly missed when they're taken Underhill. At times, a changeling is left, made of mud and sticks... and, not much hue and cry is made. But when they're sucked into Fairyland, or dropped down a rabbit hole into Nonsense, or emerge into the Moors, or end up via the wardrobe in some Virtuous world where all is sunshine and unicorn and rainbows, it's not the disappearing that matters... The worst thing on earth is the bump when you land coming back.

And, what then?

Then you end up at Eleanor West's Home for Wayward Children. On the surface of things, it's a reform school where your parents send you when you need straightening up. Once the front door closes, and they're safely back at home, there you find your tribe.

Nancy was the Princess-in-Waiting to the Lord of Death. Her black-and-white hair, habit of stillness, and grayscale color scheme bespeak her the world in which she once lived in a state of cool, bloodless peace with no haste. But, the world she's landed back in is colorful, cacophonous, and her parents don't know her anymore. Desperate, they steal her black clothes and send her away with a dreadful pink suitcase stuffed with rainbow-brights. Nancy's desperate with longing to find her door, and go back to where she feels she belongs. But, there is no going back. That's what the child-sized psychologist at her new school, Dr. Lundy, says. Restless, tree-climbing Sumi, Nancy's new roommate, agrees, stating that hope is the worst of the four-letter-words no one should say. Eleanor, the sixty-ish woman who runs the home, says that's not true - that some doors reappear for some kids. She knows exactly where her door is located, after all. She's only waiting to go home when it's the right time.

But, for some of the children, it won't ever be the right time. Tragedy stalks this tiny boarding school-cum-sanitarium and strikes just after Nancy's arrival. Suddenly all eyes are on her - the new girls who's ruined everything. Others are suspected in their turn -- but accusations and panic are spinning them all in tightening circles. She doesn't know anyone well enough to suspect them, but Nancy decides that no one has the right to determine who she is -- and battling suspicion, her fears, and a load of loss and near paralyzing grief, she and her newfound friends in this awful, beautiful world have to get to the heart of what's going on, before it's too late.

Observations: Readers who enjoyed MISS PEREGRINES HOME FOR PECULIAR CHILDREN may find a sympathetic echo in this novel, but Ransom Riggs wrote more of a straightforward adventure story -- crossing into the Weird, and going home safely to familiarity at night, and returning at will. This is a darker, sadder story. The slim volume is one hundred, sixty-nine pages long and yet manages to get its claws into your heart.

Like Nancy, readers come into the world confused - without benefit of the orientation which takes place after her first night's sleep at the Home. We live, at first, in the expectation that all the quirky characters are going to be spontaneously entertaining - poof off somewhere, do something fun - but they don't. They grieve, and soon we become accustomed to that -- and then everything changes again.

The tension heightens, the screws tighten, and then All Is Revealed. The little revelations continue to spill along until the final one, which surprised me a bit. I had to think whether I wanted things to conclude in the way that they did, or not. I'm still not quite decided.

Conclusion: A gorgeous depth and stillness inhabits Seanan McGuire's prose in this brief literary fantasy. There is a diversity of age in this novel which allows it to cross over beautifully, and will be of interest to older teens who may find themselves jaded with fantasy novels of evil fey, or are searching for an offbeat novel about acceptance and finding one's tribe. There are some surprising moments - and attitudes in this novel, but the surprises make sense from the characters. I found this work seamless, and found myself tearing up a bit just from ...a gentle nostalgia for places that don't exist, to which I'm sure I ought to be going home. In two words, disturbingly beautiful.



I WON my copy of this book via a Tor.com contest which never, ever happens. You can find EVERY HEART A DOORWAY by Seanan McGuire at an online e-tailer, or at a real life, independent bookstore near you!

April 19, 2016

Turning Pages Reads: A MADNESS SO DISCREET, by MINDY MCGINNIS

Welcome to another session of Turning Pages!

Synopsis: Grace Mae has lost everything - her home, her lovely clothes, her voice - even her last name. Shoved into the faceless void of the late 19the century insane asylum, hers is a life of violence, assault, degradation, starvation, cold, and fear. And, Grace is perfectly sane. Just pregnant... which, for a single young lady of 19th century Boston obviously means wildly licentious behavior, ergo, she is deemed mad. Just until the baby is born, however. All will be mended when her belly is flat again. But, Grace would rather die than go back home - and has decided to stay in the asylum forever. Except, there are worse things at the asylum; there's the asylum cellar, where the truly mad are kept in unrelieved darkness. When Grace finds herself there, the discovery of unexpected light changes everything. A visiting doctor trained in phrenology and is just beginning a study of criminal psychology sees someone worth saving. Grace is removed to an ethical asylum where her heart begins to heal. Grateful and relived, Grace works hard to help the doctor solve murders - but while his clinical interest and maturity has prepared him for his work, Grace is still young, and still idealistic... What happens when a young girl continues to gaze into the abyss? Eventually, the abyss gazes back...

"It's a madness so discreet that it can walk the streets and be applauded in some circles, but it is madness nonetheless."

NB: As with other reviews on this blog for books in the mystery or suspense genre, the synopsis fails to provide detail, to prevent spoilers. Nevertheless, I feel compelled to state that this book should definitely be only for mature readers. Violence against women, the loss of a childhood, the loss of a child, and murder are pretty common for 19th century asylums, and may trigger negative emotional reactions in some readers.

Observations:Months ago, there was a list passed around on Twitter of reasons someone could be - and had been - admitted to an insane asylum in the mid-1800's. We laughed about it, but it was... creepy. Fits? Desertion of husband? Desertion by husband? Business nerves? NOVEL READING?????? Off you to to the mental institution, and may God help you. Despite the word "asylum" meaning "protection," the line for any woman between the protection of home, and the loss of all self and all right to leave in peace in this manner was dangerously thin.

"Simply using the words sane and insane is a way for the population to draw a safe line through humanity, and then place themselves squarely on the side of the healthy."

This Edgar Allan Poe Award Nominee is simply... dark. It isn't scary in the gasp-and-jerk way, it isn't spine-tingling horror, and doesn't leave one breathless with suspense, it's simply grim. This novel depicts the most common, garden-variety evil, which means it grinds both reader and characters into a paste by the end. The emotion I felt most from this novel was great weariness, and a sense that the conclusion was meant to be cathartic. It was not, for me; it might not be for you. It presented moral conundrums which troubled the adults in the novel; teen readers may feel differently.

The history of America's treatment of the mental ill is deeply toxic. (America's present treatment leaves much to be desired, as the stigma still remains.) The topic is somewhat leavened by Grace beginning to enjoy her life and using her prodigious wits to examine crime scenes, but moving into the realm of being a 19th century detective is also somewhat dark - there are those murders, after all. Still, unlike most novels about young women before the idea of equal rights and parity, Grace is not powerless. The novel underscores that, if one is willing to cross the boundaries of societally acceptable behavior, no young woman is. But, are you willing? And, if you're willing... then, are you sane?

That is the question Grace has to grapple with.

Is justice something which can be meted out by the average person? Is revenge justice? Is there justice in revenge? How much does it matter?

Conclusion: Though some readers may find this painstakingly told story slow, this novel is well-research, well written, refreshingly free of romance, and while it lacks much diversity, it does portray strong female friendships. While I can't say I liked the novel, as it seems difficult for me to fully embrace provocatively writing about the horrors of the past while many writers consistently ignore violence the horrors of the present, the subject matter is thought-provoking, and the questions of moral relativism it brings will resonate. Do two wrongs ever make things right? But, are you convinced there has been two wrongs...? Each reader must answer for themselves...



I received my copy of this book courtesy of the public library, through the review of my friend Liz who is serving on the Edgar Award panel. You can find A MADNESS SO DISCREET by Mindy McGinnis at an online e-tailer, or at a real life, independent bookstore near you!

March 18, 2016

Turning Pages Reads: PURPLE HIBISCUS by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

Welcome to another session of Turning Pages!

Synopsis: Privileged and perfect is how life could be described for fifteen-year-old Kambili and her brother, Jaja. In Nigeria, where so many deal with fuel shortages, power outages, strikes at hospitals and universities and scarce, or uninspiringly plain foods, Kambili has nice clothes, meat almost every day, her own room with a nice bed, and the stern and despotic will of her Father dominating her every breath. Infected with a self-hatred which enacts itself in extreme religiosity in respect to the Catholicism that he's embraced, Kambili's father demands impossible obedience to a law of rigid social and religious perfection which leaves the family emotionally, psychically -- and very often physically -- scarred. Their prayers at meals are twenty-minute long exercises in piety, church is never missed, including the visit to the priest after; confession is constant, and their father even parcels out the time they're allowed to visit his father, Papa-Nnukwu, whom he tells his children is a hell-bound pagan (though his sister simply explains the man's adherence to his own faith as being a traditionalist). To settle the concerns of the village fathers, the children get fifteen minutes in their grandfather's presence and are urged to eat or drink nothing, though the man clearly is nearing the end of his life, lives in deep poverty, and longs to know his grandchildren and share time and stories and meals with them.

It is only through their aunt's guile that the children are taken from their home to visit their father's sister. Their father allows his sister, Auntie Ifeoma to take his children to spend a few days in her home in Nsukka. Promised a pilgrimage to a place where the Virgin Mother has appeared, the children are instead gifted with a time of relaxation - books and television, no threats, no shouting, no not measuring up to an impossible ruler. They hear music from the heart, singing at prayers, laughter, jokes, free discussion, and games. And Kambili - numb and awkward at first - observes dully her brother Jaja turning like a sunflower to the warmth of this free home, and turning into someone she doesn't know. Cautious and wary, Kambili's every thought remains of her father, obsessed with keeping his rules, even when out from under his eye, but she watches as her brother simply decides... "no. No more." Fearfully, Kambili waits for the world to end. It doesn't -- and then she meets Father Amadi, a young and attractive chaplain of the University of Nsukka where Auntie Ifeoma works. Casually dressed, playing soccer, with a kind word for everyone, he's one of the only Igbo priests Kambili has ever met - and even his voice obsesses her. Filled with hints of a whole new world, that of affection and infatuation, Kambili, finally, begins to imagine a world away from what she's always known. But, every vacation ends, and for every little sin, there is to be a painful and terrifying reckoning. Their father remains ominously in the background, even as the hideous stress of running a free press begins to have its fatal effects during the despotic Nigerian political regime. Her family cannot remain as it is -- not when Jaja is getting older every day, and pushing back against their father. But, is courage in this circumstance, what is endurance? Is it standing in the face of oppression, as their father does against the political forces in their nation? Or is it, as Auntie Ifeoma is doing, preparing to emigrate to America, walking away?

Observations: This book, first published in 2003, has been reprinted multiple times, and was nominated for many awards. Obviously tightly written and concisely plotted, Adichie's characterization is clear and true, contrasting individual triumphs and failures against the backdrop of Nigeria's failures and eventual turn toward change. Despite its having a fifteen-year-old narrator, many teens read this novel as part of World Literature, not as ordinary genre fiction. What separates the two is mostly topical, but also a lyricism of writing that isn't often as apparent in other fiction forms. (This is not to say that it's nonexistent; it's just that this book has history and politics entangled with the narrative, which changes it and its concerns.)

Oppression is thematic in this novel. Myriad things loom over the family within the first third of the book. The heat is looms oppressively. The political climate holds the threat of oppression. The religion is certainly all-pervasive and oppressive, and then there's the father's chronic disappointment looming, and always ready to break over their defenseless heads. Though Kambili describes things with a small-voiced detachment - small voices, because she has never had speaking-up behavior modeled at home; small-voiced, because she believes in her father's view of her, that she is sinful, stained, and spoiled -- one nevertheless gets the sense of the absolute numb horror taking place around them. As Kambili and her brother scrub their mother's blood from the floor, after one of their father's "corrections" of the nearly silent woman's sinful behavior, the reader gets the sense of being seen in a funhouse mirror; much smaller than previously believed... see-through, perhaps... and helpless. But, no one - not the country, or the climate, nor the family - is beyond help and change in this novel. Adichie pulls the narrative inexorably and smoothly toward the small explosions which culminate in the release - and then the aftershock - of the inevitable tragedy.

Conclusion: Though in some ways grimly tragic, this is also a beautifully written novel which introduces readers unfamiliar with Nigeria to a small part of it -- without that being the point of the novel. As a matter of fact, with no glossary or "notes" on how to make sense of the culture, except through savoring the narrator's words, it's not about the culture at all, except through its people -- and the characterizations are worth their weight in gold. No one is single-dimensional, every quick conclusion the reader makes they have to take out again and scrutinize as they peer at the pieces of what makes a person who they are, and how they become. Even the monstrous father isn't a monster so much as someone whose self-worth is so afflicted by not being Western and white that he's absorbed the cruelty of the West's disdain for he and his people, and taken their cruel white Catholic god to heart. What else can he do, but try and erase Nigeria's stain from his own family? And yet, he obviously loves his people and supports so, so many of them - which is one of the reasons Kambili is so proud of him, even as he batters away all that she could love about him... a complex and multilayered book, even in its painful tragedy, it leaves the reader with a hair-thin sprout of hopefulness.



I received my copy of this book courtesy of the library. You can find PURPLE HIBISCUS by Chimamanda Adichie at an online e-tailer, or at a real life, independent bookstore near you!