Review: Vincent and Theo

Title: Vincent and Theo: The Van Gogh Brothers
Author: Deborah Heiligman
Publisher: Henry Holt
Year Published: 2017
Source: Library
Rating: 5/5 stars

I thought I knew a decent amount about Vincent Van Gogh. Turns out I only knew the most basic facts.

This beautifully written biography of Vincent and his brother Theo is based on the many letters they wrote to each other and to friends and family. Heiligman writes short chapters in compelling prose that makes you want to keep moving through the story; in fact, I read this book - over 450 pages! - in 3 days.

At first it seems odd that this biography also includes Theo Van Gogh, but once the brothers become adults, it is clear that Theo is as important a player in this story as Vincent. There would have been no Vincent without Theo, in fact (and don't get me started on the epilogue with Theo's wife!). Their lives were so intertwined that full understanding of Vincent MUST include knowledge of Theo as well.

I had a few small quibbles with the book. The first was that there weren't enough images, especially of the sketches. I understand that color plates of the paintings make a book more expensive, and I was happy with the number of plates, but more black and white images of sketches throughout would have been helpful. (I was often reading in the lunchroom at work which somehow has the worst wifi reception despite being right next to the router and I couldn't look anything up.) The second problem was that mental health issues were brought up often but covered very minimally. Since Heiligman used the brothers' letters as her main inspiration, and since mental health was barely understood at the time, it's understandable that there wasn't much in the book about it. However, a chapter outside the narrative with a basic explanation of bipolar disorder would have added a lot though.

Appeal Factors: narrative non-fiction, fast-paced, lyrical
Awards and Nominations: 2018 YALSA Nonfiction for Young Adults Award nominee, 2017 Boston Globe-Horn Book Award for Nonfiction winner
Read-alikes: Charles and Emma (also by Heiligman)

Review: Maggot Moon

Title: Maggot Moon
Author: Sally Gardner
Publisher: Candlewick Press
Year Published: 2013
Source: Library book
Rating: 4/5 stars

I wasn't sure what to expect from Maggot Moon by Sally Gardner. I picked it up because it is a Printz Honor book this year, and I'm making my way through the YALSA Hub Challenge. I was intrigued by the cover and the description, but really had no idea what I was getting into.

Standish, the main character, is an odd duck, and he describes his dystopian world in a way that is strange yet heartbreaking. The reader spends much of the book thinking about Soviet Russia, but is that really the world this is taking place in? The Motherland is about to land on the moon for the first time, but Standish and his Gramps are among the few who know what's really going on.

While I found the story compelling and Standish to be a great narrator, what won me over about Maggot Moon was the simplistic sentences that still managed to knock me over. Case in point: "Gramps was the only person that still pulled at the gravity in me." That one sentence speaks volumes about their relationship, and I found myself rereading that one line over and over. It was the tiny gems like that that made me really appreciate this book.

Review: Rose Under Fire

Sometimes a fictional world is too rich to want to give up. I adored Code Name Verity by Elizabeth Wein, the story of a female British spy captured by the Nazis in World War II France, so completely that I reread most of it as soon as I had finished the book. Fast forward to this summer, when I managed to get my grubby hands on a copy of its not-quite-sequel Rose Under Fire, and I cried the same stupid-ugly tears (although maybe not quite as many) that I had for Code Name Verity. Ultimately, though, I found Rose to be lacking when held up alongside Verity,

Rose is an American who has volunteered to fly for the Air Transport Auxiliary, ferrying damaged or recently repaired planes around England (yes, the same ATA that Maddie flies for). Through a variety of events, she ends up captured by the Nazis and taken to Ravensbruck, a women's concentration camp in Germany. She is housed with a variety of women, mostly Polish and Russian political prisoners. This is notable because there are so many Holocaust novels out there, and there are relatively fewer about the people who were put in camps because of things other than being Jewish.

Rose certainly doesn't have the worst time at Ravensbruck, but its not like its a cakewalk either. A rather important character from Code Name Verity shows up at the camp, and Rose talks about her without knowing a fraction of the things she's done. But while Code Name Verity left you wondering what was going to happen to Verity, you know fairly early that Rose is fine because of the way she's writing her story. All in all, this is just another World War II book, but it also happens to have links to the wonderful Code Name Verity that make it interesting to those who have already read the first book.

Rose Under Fire could be read as a stand-alone book, but you'd get so much more out of it as a companion. If you only have time for one WWII book in your life right now, opt for Code Name Verity, which is much more inventive and emotional.

Donna Tartt and The Goldfinch

When I say I was excited for Donna Tartt's new book, The Goldfinch, that's something of an understatement. I'd been dying to get my hands on the book since the moment I heard about it. Her first book, The Secret History, is probably the book I've read the most times (well, adult book. Madeleine L'Engle probably has more rereads for me.), and I end up rereading it every few years.

So I was also a little worried about getting my hands on the new book. I still haven't read her second book, The Little Friend; I had heard such abysmal things about it that I didn't want it to ruin The Secret History for me. That's how much I love The Secret History.

The Goldfinch, however, does not disappoint. It is still VERY different from Tartt's first book, but the fluid prose is still there, painting gorgeous pictures with every sentence. The Goldfinch follows Theo, a boy living in New York City, as he deals with profound loss and inescapable confusion. The title of the book refers to a painting that Theo sees on display at the Metropolitan Museum of Art at the beginning of the book, and the painting itself is as much a character throughout the story as any other.

With this novel, there have been countless comparisons to Dickens for Tartt, and deservedly so. This reminded me specifically of Great Expectations, where minor characters from the beginning show up near the end, having moved things in much more important ways than you could ever have guessed. The cast of characters is large and varied, and Tartt deserves accolades just for keeping all their voices straight in such a spectacular way.

Now, did I really enjoy this book? I'm not sure if I can say yes to that. I felt like I was slogging through it at times, and I definitely felt it could have been pared down a bit. Of course, any book with almost 800 pages will feel a bit like that.

However, I am left thinking about this book. It hasn't left me in the weeks since I read it, which is rare for me. I don't think I'll be able to shake the mood of this book for a long time.

Last night, I had the opportunity to hear Donna Tartt speak at Wellesley Books. I was in a pretty terrible mood when I got there, and some comments one of the booksellers made and the fact that Ms. Tartt wouldn't sign any backlist (ie The Secret History) left me in an even grumpier mood. However, hearing Donna Tartt read a passage from the book and talk about her writing process was wonderful. She knows the book so well that it was almost like watching a one-person play. It was also clear why it takes her 10 years to write a book, as her speech does not have the clarity or fluidity that her prose does. But she spoke at length about loving writing from a young age, and it is clear to anyone who has read her books that she absolutely does love writing.

The Goldfinch may seem like a challenging book to many, but I would definitely recommend it. The quality of the prose is superb, and like I said, it's a book that will stick with you for a while.

Review: Building Stories

From the moment I heard about Building Stories by Chris Ware, I was intrigued (and a bit daunted). It's a graphic novel of sorts, told over multiple works housed in one big box. It took me a while to get around to it (and a while for one of the few copies in my library network to make it to me), but once it was in my hands, I settled in for a marathon of reading.

The title would imply that the stories all revolve around one building (a 3-apartment building), and for a while, they do. The 14 pieces of the story can really be read in any order, but I read it from largest to smallest (mostly), which kept things more or less in chronological order. The later pieces veer away from the apartment building, following just one of the characters as she moves out of the building and moves on with her life.

And there lies my largest problem with the whole book. I wanted the story to completely remain within the apartment building, or at the very least, follow all the participants. Instead, by focusing more firmly on just one of the people, it made the stories of the other two apartments feel more trivial. In particular, there is the unhappy couple that lives on me second floor - why are they so unhappy? how long do they live in the building? Why should I care?

If you enjoy the graphic novel form, then you can't miss this one, based on its form alone. The nonlinear format trumps the not-so-fulfilling story. It actually left me pretty depressed, partially because nothing is wrapped up and partially because the content itself is not terribly happy. Don't read this in one go on a rainy day like I did.

Review: You

I will read just about any novel a that involves video games. Frankly, the gold standard on the subject, Ready Player One by Ernie Cline, has potentially ruined the genre, simply because it is just so damn good. That doesn't mean I won't keep reading, though.

So without knowing too much about You by Austin Grossman other than something vague about video games, I was eager to read it. And jumping into a world of video game development set in Boston in the '90s, I was intrigued. 

And yet somehow, I found that it took me more than a week to read. I don't normally read that slowly, except when a book can't hold my attention. I was rooting for this one all along, but it just didn't do it for me.

The biggest flaw in this book was the concept that gave it its title. Every once in a while, the reader is treated to a section written in second person ("you") describing the play of the video game. I really like the idea of this, because video games are usually about immersing yourself in a world (sights, sounds, actions, feelings, etc) enough to make you feel like you're really there. But in the book, I felt less immersed in the world than rushed through it. The narrator, Russell, is the one playing through the games, but I felt less like I was looking over his shoulder and more like he was telling me about it after the fact. Add to the fact that occasionally the second person reads like it's from the point of view of yet another character, the deceased genius behind the video game company, and I was really lost. Without these second-person interludes, this book would have been much, much stronger.

If you enjoy video games, then this would be a fun but not earth-shattering read. If you're not already a gamer, this is not going to make you one, and frankly, might just confuse you.

Review: Nantucket Blue

Sometimes I find myself completely surprised by a book, and its a feeling that I love. How often can we say these days that our expectations were not only met but far exceeded? That's exactly what I got from Nantucket Blue by Leila Howland. I wanted to take a look at it because I knew it would be of interest to some of the teens at my library, but I wasn't exactly excited to read it. 

And then I couldn't put it down. What a wonderful feeling, to be so intrigued by something that seemed like just another typical teen romance at the outset.

That's not to say that it's not a typical teen romance in many ways. Main character Cricket is the odd girl out at her school - a scholarship kid surrounded by the way-too-rich-for-their-own-good who is just starting to get noticed by the hot guy.

Things take a turn, though, when Cricket's best friend's mother dies suddenly, a woman she considered as close as her own mother. Things chill between the two friends unexpectedly, leaving their summer plans of hanging around together on Nantucket up in the air.

There's nothing terribly earth-shattering about this book (although teens who have dealt with a death in the family or in the community may find some comfort), but it all felt real enough that I wanted to keep reading. Cricket felt very understandable to me, and the level of plausibility was just high enough to not make me want to throw the book across the room.

I can't wait to start handing this out to some of my kids. I know it will be right up their alley.

Review: Under The Dome

I am a devout Stephen King fanatic (I'm pretty sure I scare people off when I start talking about The Dark Tower). Or rather, I should say that I am a formerly devout Stephen King fanatic. Like many other Constant Readers (hi, Mom!), I have a predilection for his earlier stuff, which are all (for the most part) whole stories. It's the newer stuff that starts out strong, with lots of atmosphere and a huge cast of well-defined characters, but always end up devolving into a mush, leaving you feel left down. My mother and I now call these "Stephen King" endings, no matter who writes them.

I think I first noticed this with Cell, which starts out stronger than a lot of SK's books (perhaps only for Bostonians like me, though - how could we forget that first scene on Boylston Street and Arlington Street). The ending, though, left multitudes to be desired. And routinely, just about all his books that I've read since (Duma Key excluded) have stumbled sadly toward mediocrity.

And yet somehow, I keep coming back for more. With Stephen King, the journey is what matters (see? I can work Dark Tower into anything). I've come to mind the bad endings less and less, just enjoying the ride. I don't excuse them, but if I assume they're coming, I'll be less disappointed in the long run.

Case in point: Under The Dome. I've been meaning to read this since it was released, but its size kept pushing it down my list. But when I heard that the book was being turned into a mini series for CBS this June, written by Y: The Last Man author Brian K. Vaughan, I knew I had to get it read ASAP.

I opted for the audio book, since I was still a bit daunted by the size, and I had so many other physical books on my to-read stack. Somehow, 30 discs seemed more manageable than the book itself. And I surprised myself at how quickly I flew through them! I give full credit to Raul Esparza, who did an excellent job managing different voices for a huge cast of characters. It felt like I was listening to a whole cast reading the book instead of one man.

The book itself is typical latter-day King, rushed bad ending and all. I actually yelled at my radio when it the actual bad guy was revealed. But the journey to the bad ending was highly enjoyable, filled with twists, turns, and plenty of gore. I may have hated the ending, but I'm waiting not-so-patiently for the show to air next month.

Review: Personal Effects (Audio)

When I received a copy of Personal Effects by E.M. Kokie from Candlewick Press, I wasn't terribly excited to read about it. My usual tastes don't trend towards current day, real-life fiction, especially involving American soldiers. And so, the book sat on my shelf for months.

But when it showed up again on YALSA's 2013 Amazing Audiobooks for Young Adults, I was curious. I have an easier time with books I'm not terribly interested in if I listen to them instead (as long as the reader is good), so I thought it would be worth a try.

Overall, I was pleasantly surprised by this book! Matt, the narrator, is a troubled and troubling young man, and I spent much of the book just wanting to give him a hug. He's still reeling from the death of his brother, a soldier in Afghanistan, 7 months earlier, and when he comes across some letters in his brother's personal effects, he starts to wonder if he didn't know his brother as well as he thought.

The story itself meanders a bit, and there were a few too many "startling" revelations for me near the end. But the main plot line was compelling enough to keep me entertained (and even to sit in my car to finish a scene more than once).

The real winner here, though, is the reader of the audiobook. Finding readers who don't just read the story but add to it is hard; I've had some audiobooks that I've turned off immediately because the narrator was just ruining them. But Nick Podehl brings such life to Matt, along with the rest of the cast of characters, that the story felt that much more real and immediate to me. I doubt I would have enjoyed it as much if I had just read the story. 

This is definitely one to check out on audio.

Review: Bomb

I don't read a lot of non-fiction, and I read even less Young Adult non-fiction, but when I saw review after review giving high praise to Steve Sheinkin's Bomb, I thought I should at least give it a try.

And now I'm wondering why more history books aren't written exactly like this one. It's like reading a thriller spy novel, except I knew that it was all real! Sheinkin did massive amounts of research (as you would need to for a book like this), but most importantly, he included TONS of direct quotes from the people involved. It gave the whole story a much more immediate feel, which is definitely part of its success. In fact, while this makes a perfect YA history book, I'm sure there are many adults who would love this book too.

My only issue with the book was that I had problems following all the different people involved. This is a story, after all, that takes place over years and years and over the span of the ENTIRE globe. There is a substantial cast of characters. And while there were some photos of the people throughout the book, I would have loved an appendix listing everyone with a short description of their roles or even a photograph of them. A map or two wouldn't have hurt either, but then, I'm a very visual learner.

For history buffs, Bomb is definitely a must-read.

Review: Sandcastle Girls

Until this past summer, I had never read any of Chris Bohjalian's books. They were popular, and, from what I heard, quite good, but they seemed a little... too bookclub-y for me. But when I coworker showed me a copy of his latest book, The Sandcastle Girls, and said it had something to do with the Armenian Genocide, I had to at least give it a shot.

The Sandcastle Girls is the sweeping story of Elizabeth Endicott, a Boston-area society girl who travels to Aleppo in 1915 to bring aid to Armenian refuges, and of Laura Petrosian, a current-day novelist struggling to understand her own heritage. Bohjalian has said that this is the most important book he'll ever write, and without even having read anything else by him, I'm inclined to agree.

While there are a number of books out there that tell the story of the Armenian Genocide (The Road From Home by David Kherdian specifically comes to mind because it is a Newbery Award Honor book), there are almost none that tell the historical facts without becoming overly preachy or dull. As an Armenian who has studied the genocide, I know that too many of these facts too quickly can turn readers away, especially if they went into the reading not knowing the history. Bohjalian, however, metes out the historical facts at just the right tempo to keep readers interested but not flat-out horrified. Perhaps because the 1915 parts of the story are told not by an Armenian but by a Westerner, the reader learns the facts as she does, in bits and pieces. Even the present-day parts of the story are told by someone searching to understand her heritage, so we the readers are invited along to learn with her.

Historical facts aside, the emotions and relationships in this book are wonderful. It is a fish-out-of-water romance set in the most desperate of situations. My mother and I argued over the ending - I loved it, she HATED it - but we both loved the book as a whole. If everyone in my family hadn't already read this one, I'd be giving it for gifts at Christmas, no question.

Review: A Long Long Sleep

I've always been a big fan of retellings of myths and fairy tales. These stories have survived for generations because they're just plain good, but a little modernization doesn't hurt either. Cinder, a favorite of mine from this year, is a retelling of Cinderella.

A Long Long Sleep by Anna Sheehan is the latest retelling I've enjoyed (it was published in 2011), although it really just uses the story of Sleeping Beauty as a jumping off place instead of a story outline. Rosalinda has spent over 60 years in a cryogenic-like stass tube, accidentally shoved into a corner of her apartment building's basement. When she's awakened (also by accident), she must come to terms with the fact that everyone she loved is gone, as well as a world that is so vastly different than her own.

Sheehan's writing is beautiful, and she captures Rose's struggles in a very real way. There is pain and joy, wonder and horror, dark and light throughout the book. The beginning is perhaps a little slow, but that's because Rose, who is narrating, is just waking up from years of sleep - she needs a little time to get her emotions running again. I found myself flying through the second half of the book, with Rose's struggles affecting me almost physically. Yes, there were definitely some tears.

Since A Long Long Sleep is Sheehan's first novel, I'm eagerly awaiting whatever else she comes out with, fairy tale retelling or no. I can only hope it's as good as her first.

Review: The Song of Achilles

There are times when I start reading a book really wanting to like it, but no matter how hard I try to put aside the little things that irk me, it just ends up a disappointing mess. I'm saddened that The Song of Achilles happened to be one of these instances.

I should start by saying that I am a HUGE Trojan War nerd. I've read most of the books out there, and I can describe parts of the epic in such detail that I can see people's eyes glaze over as they listen to me talk about it. But of course, that means I hold books about the Trojan War up to pretty high standards. And I know that my idea of the characters are going to be different from someone else's interpretation of them. But I found Miller's Patroclus so weak that I had a hard time caring.

My problems with Patroclus started very early. In most accounts, Patroclus kills a friend, and he and his father go into exile to escape. Here, Patroclus' father is shamed by his act and sends his only son far away. Much later, Patroclus proves he doesn't have much skill on the battlefield and spends his days in camp with the women (only later finding any use for his time in the healer's tent). These weak characterizations just don't jibe with my idea of Patroclus, and I found myself struggling against them every step of the way. I had no indication of why Achilles cared so much for him.

The story itself is fine, following Patroclus from his youth through his upbringing with Achilles to the Trojan War itself. That's a lot of ground to cover, but Miller moves things along well. Achilles himself felt a bit bland to me, but I loved his mother Thetis, who was the perfect blend of cold and calculating and overprotective. And I'm still confused by Briseis, who plays such a pivotal role in Achilles' motivation. There are a lot of characters to keep straight, and if you're not already knowledgeable about the story, you might have a little trouble, but the appendix should sort you out.

I guess that my biggest issue overall was that I just had a hard time caring - about people, about actions, about consequences. Miller's writing is beautiful (aside from some discrepancies with tense usage, but that should fall to an editor to fix), and I can't wait to see a story from her that I don't already know so well.

Buy The Song of Achilles on Amazon
Buy The Song of Achilles on Indie Bound

Review: The Ruby in the Smoke

My very first book of 2012 was not one I chose for myself. Instead, I started off the year with the January title for the Forever Young Adult book club. I'm a member of the Thursday night Boston group, which is filled with awesome ladies who love YA as much as I do. I'm always sad when I have to miss a meeting.

The Ruby in the Smoke, the first of the Sally Lockhart mysteries, by Philip Pullman is not a book I would ever have picked up if not for the book club. I have walked by it millions of times in the store, and even recommended it a few times to girls who wanted mysteries and historical fiction combined. I don't think I was wrong to walk by it. Not that it's a bad book - in fact, as far as Victorian mysteries aimed towards the teen set go, I think it's quite good. It's just not my cup of tea (insert bad Victorian London joke here).

Sally Lockhart, who was recently orphaned when her father sank along with his merchant ship off China, is a strong character whom I actually liked. She's determined to figure out what's happening, even when it takes her to the seedier side of London or has her experimenting with drugs. She's able to turn a photography business around with practically a single idea. She doesn't let the fact that she's an orphan with no home of her own get her down.

And yet, it takes another character (completely out of the blue, I might add) to solve the mystery of where this ruby is hiding. Really, Pullman, after all these pages of Sally being kick-ass and smart, you leave the actual mystery solving to a boy?!

Like I said, I just don't like mysteries (in the typical sense of the word). I especially don't like Victorian mysteries (although I don't mind other books that take place in Victorian times). My other book club read The Moonstone (the first British mystery novel) last year, and this reminded me of it very much - plodding and slow, and then everything happens at once. I hated every minute of The Moonstone.

And yes, I did watch the BBC movie version of this book as well. I couldn't help it - it stars Billie Piper and Matt Smith. It was cute, but it dumbed down some of the more interesting aspects of the story. I'd rather read the book than watch the movie again.


Buy The Ruby in the Smoke on Amazon
Buy The Ruby in the Smoke at a local store through Indie Bound

Review: Revolution

I have to admit, when I first heard about this book last year when it came out, I thought it sounded kind of stupid. I don't think I heard more than a one-sentence description before deciding that I didn't need to read this one. It had something to do with "two girls, living two centuries apart..." and I was out.

What a difference a year makes, huh? I was scanning through titles on my library's digital audiobook catalog and stumbled upon Revolution again, but this time, I took the time to read the full description. I couldn't wait to stick it on my iPod. What struck me so differently this time? I have no idea, but I'm so glad that it worked out, because I absolutely loved this book.

The story follows Andi, a privileged girl who lives in Brooklyn, attending private school with the cast of Gossip Girl and only awkwardly getting along with any of them. She'd rather be playing her guitar, which she plays very, very well. In fact, music is her escape - from dealing with the sudden death of her brother, from her mother who has mentally slipped away from the world, from her father who has left them behind. So when her father drags her, kicking and screaming, to Paris (where he's going for work), it's no surprise that she'll do anything she can to get back home, even if that means working on her thesis (about a French musician) like her father wants. While she's pouting around the apartment they're staying in, she finds the journal of Alexandrine, a girl caught between the royals and the revolutionaries during the French Revolution - and that's when the story really starts to pull together.

Andi's voice is what really hooked me on the story. Since I was listening to the audiobook, it was like the story was being performed for me (one reader does Andi's part, including accents for the various characters, and another read's Alex's diary entries). But even now, flipping through the actual book to write this, Andi's voice jumps off the page. She feels like a real girl who has had to deal with things that no one should have to deal with (teen or not), and her being rich and privileged hasn't helped her one bit. She is in turns desperate, exhausted, exhilarated, suicidal, full of life, pouty, and a million other things (like most teens, in fact).

The story was mostly compelling. Like I said, Andi's voice kept things fresh and interesting for me. The segments that were Alex's diary entries lagged a little bit in comparison. (The might also have lagged because I find diary entries in general to be a bit of a cliche, but to be fair, they were used perfectly in this case.) Had I been reading the book instead of listening to it, though, I would have been able to skim through those bits and gone happily on my way.

I was very happy to find Donnelly's playlist on her website after finishing the book. Music plays so heavily into the story, and Andi name-checks all kinds of musicians and songs, so it was great to see them all listed (although the list seems awfully short, but I guess a lot of the songs were repeated over and over again in the book).

4/5 stars

Buy Revolution on Amazon
Buy Revolution at a local store through Indie Bound

Review: Steampunk!

I'm a big fan of steampunk. I'm not sure when I came across it, or how, but I love the visual aesthetic of it. However I found it, I'm sure I found images well before I found stories. And from the visuals, it's a bit hard to understand the full breadth of the genre.

Steampunk stories cover a wide array of topics and themes. Some are more historical, and some take place in a future that seems strange. Some are born out of Victorian London, and others call the wild west home (while still others take place on space ships or foreign worlds). There is so much that can be considered steampunk that an anthology of steampunk stories can sometimes feel disjointed. *Cough* Steampunk *Cough*

Steampunk!, edited by Kelly Link and Gavin Grant, unfortunately suffers from this, but at least it gets off to one hell of a start. The first half or so of the book is filled with very strong stories that each take a stab at their own version of steampunk. Cory Doctorow's "Clockwork Fagin," about a bunch of kids in an orphanage, was by far my favorite of the group. I also really loved Cassandra Clare's "Some Fortunate Future Day," Delia Sherman's "The Ghost of Cwmlech Manor," and Libba Bray's "The Last Ride of the Glory Girls" (which I'm pretty sure was influenced by my beloved Firefly).

Some of the stories seemed not-so-steampunk, but I still enjoyed them. Kelly Link's "The Summer People" was my favorite of this bunch, owing very little to the steampunk genre apart from some mechanical toys that "the summer people" create.

This anthology has been published as a YA book (because it's from children's publisher Candlewick), but it's pretty perfect for anyone who likes steampunk. The only thing that would mark it YA is that many of the main characters are teens, but that shouldn't hamper an adult from reading along.

3/5 stars

Buy Steampunk! on Amazon
Buy Steampunk! at a local store through Indie Bound

Review: The Magician King

I could not have been more excited to hear that Lev Grossman was following up his amazing book The Magicians only two years later with The Magician King. I remember devouring The Magicians, which at the time I likened to an adult version of Harry Potter, at breakneck speeds. So getting my hands on a copy (well, virtually, and that's a whole 'nother story) of The Magician King was a priority.

First, I should say that I regret not re-reading The Magicians. Grossman jumps right into the story with no real refresher to speak of. I felt myself struggling to remember exactly what had happened to characters in the first book when the events were alluded to here.

Overall, I loved the Magician King and the way it continued this imaginative story arc. Is much of this book (hell, the series) cribbed from classic children's literature? Absolutely. This book reeks of the Chronicles of Narnia, mostly The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, just like the first book was obviously influenced by Harry Potter. And while I found this a bit grating at times (I get it! Two kings and two queens, just like Narnia! Wise talking animals! A ship sailing into uncharted waters!), for the most part, this book works precisely because we all know the stories they're alluding to. However, I ended up enjoying the parts that felt familiar but weren't the most. (Here I mean the fable of the quest for the seven keys of Fillory, which the main plot revolves around.)

The story follows two paths: Quentin, king of Fillory, ventures out on a quest (ostensibly to collect taxes from a far-off province) and learns what it means to be a hero, and a flashback to Julia, a magic school reject, becoming a hedge witch and then so, so much more. At first, I found the two narratives jarring - why should I care about Julia's past when Quentin is obviously the one we care about? But as Quentin's quest progresses, the parallels with Julia's quest to become skilled in magic become obvious. The idea of humility versus hubris in a hero comes up repeatedly, but not in a way that is obtrusive or annoying.

Obviously, it's a bit silly to review a sequel here without having reviewed the original book. Like I said, it's been a while since I read it, but I can't recommend it enough (even having forgotten most of everything). Trust me, read The Magicians - you won't want to wait to dive right into The Magician King.

4/5 stars

Review: Geek Wisdom

When I first heard about Geek Wisdom, edited by Stephen Segal, I was more than a little skeptic. As a self-proclaimed Nerd and Geek (by my definitions, nerd = passionate about academic subjects and geek = passionate about pop cultural subjects), I've seen how geekery has become widely accepted over the past few years. Often, that means it is co-opted by brands and companies that have no idea what being geeky actually means. So I figured this quirky little sampler of quotes wouldn't necessarily mean all that much to real geeks.

Man, was I wrong. There is so much truth in this book. Each page features a quote or two from famous geek texts (ranging from Shakespeare to internet memes, with plenty of television, movies, and novels in among the mix) along with a brief discussion of why this is important to the hordes of geeks out there or what it has to say about how we geeks see our world.

That's not to say that every single brief essay in this book works. With some quotes, the author's barely touch upon the quote itself and deal with another matter entirely. The best of the essays, though, (and I'll say the majority of the essays are among the best) really touch the heart of the quote in question, distilling the ideas that geeks feel in their hearts, even if the mind can't explain it so succinctly.

For example, the first quote in the book is "With great power comes great responsibility," written by the great Stan Lee. This has become one of the tenants of geekdom (closely followed, I would think, by Wil Wheaton's "Don't be a dick"). And really, it's something we all understand without too much thought. But the authors of the book point out how this affected not just Spiderman, but also George Washington, King David, Albert Einstein, and Franklin Roosevelt (and that Paris Hilton has somehow not come to understand it at all).

Even if you don't care about the discussion, this is a great collection of geeky quotes. I kept saying to myself that a particular quote was my favorite quote, but then I'd turn the page and find one I liked even more. I just have so much love for this book! It really is the perfect gift for any geeks in your life (in fact, I'm thinking I should just buy a box to have on hand as ready-made gifts).

5/5 stars

Review: Texas Gothic

I have to admit, I didn't have high hopes for Texas Gothic by Rosemary Clement-Moore. The description on the back included witches, cowboys, and ghosts. I started flipping through it, though, and immediately recognized it for what it was. It was like home, something comforting from my childhood.

YA wasn't a big thing when I was a teen, and probably most of the YA I read was cheesy teen horror stories by Diane Hoh, Richie Tankersley Cusick, and Christopher Pike (Pike being the high end of the bunch). If you're my age, you know exactly the books I'm talking about, especially the embossed covers with more than their share of neon colors. (Cusick's Vampire was a particular favorite of mine.) These books were easy to read and almost felt like an episode of Scooby Doo (more bad guys being unmasked at the end, less talking dogs and stoners... well, sometimes there were stoners). There was always danger, but never too much to worry about, and the main girl (it was always a girl) used a little Nancy Drew sleuthing to figure out what was going on.

And that's exactly what I found in Texas Gothic. In fact, Nancy Drew is referenced a number of times, so Clement-Moore is obviously a fan of the genre herself. And for this particular sub-genre, the book is well-written, fast-paced, and highly enjoyable. I've seen enough of Texas to understand the environment perfectly, and the Hot Cowboy Neighbor (that might as well be his name) was the right mix of annoying and attractive. I loved the addition of real magic - the main character's family are all real witches, as much as she tries to stay out of that life - gave the story a little more body than others like it.

Is this fine literature? No. But that wasn't exactly what I was looking for on a quiet beach weekend. The high entertainment value of Texas Gothic makes it fun for any horror- or mystery-loving teen (or nostalgic adult). Bonus points for this being a self-contained story as well.

4/5 stars

Review: The Map of Time

The time travel continues in a much more literary form with The Map of Time. After Ruby Red, Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children (which is not exactly time travel but does involve traveling through time... what?), and Hourglass, I wasn't sure if I wanted any more of this genre. (And yes, I have read other things with no time travel in between that I haven't written about yet.) But this sounded so different, I couldn't wait to jump in.

"Set in Victorian London with characters real and imagined, The Map of Time is a page-turner that boasts a triple play of intertwined plots in which a skeptical H.G. Wells is called upon to investigate purported incidents of time travel and to save lives and literary classics, including Dracula and The Time Machine, from being wiped from existence." I have to be honest, I didn't read this bit from the back of the book before I started reading the book. I had been given an even briefer description - Victorian London is in a time-travel fervor after H.G. Wells writes The Time Machine - and was already sold. I'm a big fan of the steampunk sub-genre, and this hinted to having a bit of that aesthetic.

In reality, this book is not one narrative but three, although they do all intertwine and feature H.G. Wells as a main character. And the way author Felix J. Palma handles the idea of time travel in a society with far fewer technologies than our own is masterful. Whether it's the man who wants to save the woman he loved from being killed or the boy who loves a girl and wants to stop her from doing something destructive, these characters approach time travel from very real and, often, very personal perspectives. I especially liked how Palma touched upon the idea of paradoxes repeatedly, because the ideas of changing the past or meeting yourself in the past are something that have to guide the storytelling when dealing with shifting timelines.

As much as I loved this book, which is a bestseller in Palma's native Spain, I had some trouble getting into it. Specifically, the paragraphs are loooong and overly-verbose, although I have a feeling that this was done on purpose to give the book a more Victorian feel. The very beginning, especially, when there is a whole page devoted to which kind of gun a character is going to use to kill himself, can get a bit tedious. Push on,though, like I did, and you'll be well-rewarded.

As a side note, H.G. Wells is a main character throughout this book, and it is mentioned frequently that all of London is so excited by time travel specifically because of his book The Time Machine. While it's quite possible to read this book without having read The Time Machine, I'll take a moment to plug the classic. It's really very short and easy to read, plus you'll sound smart when you say you've read it.

I never read many classics when I was younger (except what was forced upon me in school), so this one had escaped me until a few years ago. Then I discovered DailyLit, which feeds you classics in tiny bite-size pieces that are easy to digest. I had The Time Machine sent to my RSS reader (but you could get them emailed to you too), and in about a month, I had read the whole thing without trying. Best part: it's free. Really, do it. Even if you don't want to read The Time Machine (but you should), give DailyLit a try.

Also, The Map of Time has one of the coolest covers I've seen in a long time.

Check out the first chapter - in text or audio - on the book's website.

5/5 stars

Disclaimer: The advance copy of this book was provided to me for free from the publisher.