Haven

The Bettys can take on the most powerful force in the world: a hot guy

Sat, 14 Nov 2009 04:32:40 GMT

It's too bad I didn't pick this up last fall at a bookstore I'd stopped at - I would enjoy owning this (FYI, I did pick up Stargirl, SVH #3 Playing with Fire [the 2008 reissue], and The Veronicas' Hook Me Up).

On my copy, it says "scratch and sniff here" on the top of the cup. Unfortunately, I can't confirm the verity of that statement, since the cover is covered with plastic.

Geena is excited that her wealthy cousin Hero is going to spend the summer working with her and her friend Amber at the Triple Shot Betty coffee shack. But trashy Amber and princess-y Hero clash immediately, and Geena is disappointed and frustrated. But soon she's distracted with boys: PJ and John, two popular brothers who are suddenly chummy with the girls; Claudio, an intern from Italy whom Hero falls for; and Ben, Geena's "archenemy" in school who's also pretty hot (isn't that always the case?). John wants to basically get into Hero's pants, but Amber's crushing on him; meanwhile, Uncle Leo won't let Hero date unless she has a chaperone ... a job Geena does not want, especially when they suggest a double date with Ben. Adding to Geena's stress is the fact that her dad - divorced from her sweet, solid mom - is spending too much time with his younger girlfriend and not enough with his only child. But as Geena learns who she can and can't trust, not to mention how appearances can be decieving, she learns how to demonstrate her loyalty to the different people in her life (with the help of a couple of do-gooder stoners).

I have my issues with the book: Amber is hard to like, seeing as she's as judgmental as she thinks everyone else is; the absent dad subplot isn't very well developed; and there's not enough focus on Geena and Ben's growing relationship. However, I'm not about to rag on this book, because it so happens that this is based on one of my favorite Shakespeare plays, Much Ado About Nothing. I can't tell you how much I dig well-done updates of beloved stories - not only spotting the parallels between the characters and plot, but noting how the author tweaks the update to reflect the change in modern sensibilities (I've mentioned this before). Gehrman changes the pivotal characters' behaviors and personalities enough to distinguish them and make them her own, yet doesn't ruin the basic plot. She turns Beatrice into Geena, a girl who trades barbs with Ben(edick) about who'll be the next valedictorian and is worried about her massive boobs. She turns Margaret - a minor friend of the innocent Hero (the original) - into a main character who has a real and realistic backstory. And she makes sure the villian is shown getting his due (in the play, he's caught and promptly forgotten). If I had one complaint, it's that the Hero-and-Amber-hate-each-other subplot felt forced, and maybe distracts from the drama later in the book. In a Shakespeare play, you basically have your pick of drama, and don't really need to add your own.

On thinking on it, Gehrman does a good job of handling a huge cast of characters while giving Geena a funny, fresh voice. A good summer read. Rating: 4 supersized iced mochas out of 5.

"Call me Cinderling ... Call me Ashgirl, Cinderella, I don't care. I am safe in the kitchen."

Tue, 10 Nov 2009 20:01:48 GMT

After a couple of hectic days (had to put our old cat down and do some stuff for next semester), it feels good to post something. Unfortunately, I think the book I'm reviewing deserves more time devoted to thinking it over. And at the same time, I just want to do this and move on.

It really sucks when you finish a book and the first thing you can think of, regardless even of whether or not you liked it, is "At least I didn't pay money for this." Well, okay, maybe I'm feeling a bit miserly lately, but the point is I was disappointed in the direction this book took.

On the run from England, the Fisher family - mother Margarethe, Ruth the eldest, Iris the younger sister - arrive in Amsterdam, at first to hunt down an old relative, and then to beg for jobs. Eventually Margarethe scores a stint as a housekeeper for an ill-tempered, cynical painter, known to the girls as the Master. Iris spends the days taking care of the slow Ruth, expressing interest in the Master's line of work, and being charmed by Casper the apprentice. Margarethe finds new employment at the van der Meer household, which sustains its wealth by investing in the lucrative tulip industry. The domineering mother and somewhat absent father there differ on how to raise their only child, a stunningly beautiful girl named Clara. Even though she's sulky and a bit of a snob, Clara comes to befriend Iris and Ruth. Then, two calamities strike the van der Meers: mother Henrika falls fatally ill (making it convienently possible for Margarethe to marry Mr. van der Meer), and their investments in tulip goes sour, leaving them nearly penniless. Margarethe sees an opportunity to marry Iris off to a visiting prince, but Iris is stuck on Caspar, and she herself sees an opportunity for shut-in Clara to go out for a night on the town.

Whew! Well, first of all, I guess I should acknowledge that this book does a good job of turning the story of Cinderella on its head, for the most part: the stepsisters are not cruel, the Cinderella character is not all good-natured and sweetness, and everyone questions the usefulness and/or meaning of beauty. The relationship between Iris and Clara has many layers, starting off as a baby-sitting job and growing into a believable sisterly relationship. Margarethe, on the other hand, reveals herself to be less sympathetic and more conniving as the book goes on; she starts off as a mother trying to provide for her kids, and ends up as an overbearing, heartless bitch who has no real love for anyone. It was hard to understand just how "ugly" Iris is; Margarethe spends the whole book pounding it into her brain, but Clara off-handedly says that she's just on the plain side. But this book is not about ugliness as much as it is about beauty, and spends long conversations on its significance. However, even though many different points of view are explored, nothing concrete is really settled on, so all these discussions don't seem to mean a lot.

That's something Maguire likes to do: find a subject and poke and prode at it, then leave it alone when he finds it can no longer serve his story. In the end, it's the "bonds of family" theme that take precedence over the question of what is beauty. We are meant to feel sorry for Clara, I think, because of her beauty, but it's Iris I feel most comfortable sympathizing with. I found that he also treats his characters with no warmth, choosing to examine them from a distance - spending a lot of time in their heads, but little in their hearts. This is something that stopped me from enjoying the story more. Also, I was disappointed that he didn't go into the fantasy elements of Cinderella and try to explain how and why the story wass embellished on (this is meant to be Cinderella's origin). We hear about an "imp" that Iris imagines to be haunting the van der Meers' house, but it's only here to mirror Iris's growth in maturity. The words "fairy godmother" are never mentioned.

Still, it's a good book for a think, and a decent reading experience. Maguire creates real characters and a believable setting, and the complicated love between families both of blood and marriage. Rating: 3.5 imps out of 5.

But wait, there's more ...

Sun, 08 Nov 2009 05:34:54 GMT

So. I went over to my grandparents' for dinner tonight, along with an off-kilter combination of cousins and relatives, and got into my grandma's basement library in search of books. Later, after engaging her in a dialogue about The Pillars of the Earth, and then reminding her that I'd read her copy of Gone with the Wind, she invited me to borrow/take some more of her books for reading.

When she told me that there was a group of books she was planning to throw away - not donate, not sell, but toss out - I had a mild panic attack. Unfortunately, I couldn't save all of them, but at least the ones I did take are now mine. Sweet.

Little Women
Made in the U.S.A.
Can't Wait to Get to Heaven
Eleven on Top - A Stephanie Plum Novel
Motor Mouth - A Stephanie Plum Novel
East of Eden

I like to think that such a list is more impressive in its range than perhaps its total (that is, if a list of books can have a value). I'm happy to get my hands on a couple of classics, along with a couple of feel-good, Midwest-speed style of books. Grandma didn't like the Stephanie Plum books at all, which is why they were on her "take out the trash" list. But I think I remember seeing a few blurbs about them, good things, and decided to give them a try. I'm excited to read Little Women and East of Eden first; however, for now this list is secondary to the couple of books from the library I have yet to read.

Review for Ugly Stepsister should be up soon.

How to write a classic teen novel

Sat, 07 Nov 2009 17:14:19 GMT

I literally squealed with delight as I finished reading this.

The title is so similar to How to Be Popular, I wondered if this was written as a response to that book. And yet, it bears many more similarities to Stargirl. On a different note, it's wonderful to see an original cover instead of some stock photo.

Maggie (technically Sugar) has spent her entire life moving around at the whim of her lovable, New Age-y parents - and she's sick of leaving the friends she makes every time. So when they move down to Austin, Maggie decides that this time she won't worry about trying to be popular; instead, she'll go out of her way to alienate people so she won't make friends at all. At first, it seems like it's working: she disses the triumvirate of Mean Girls, shakes off the advances of an egotistical jock, and finds herself the lunchmate of Penny, geek extraordinaire. But even as Maggie dresses up in weird get-ups, invites her goofball parents to lunch, and joins the Helping Hands - an environment club that is at the bottom of the popular ladder - she finds that people start to think she's ... cool. She's also attracting the attentions of Jack, a do-gooder who finds Maggie fascinating. Her plan is backfiring, and she feels growing resentment at her parents for their we're-moving-on-not-leaving philosphy for living.

What I loved most about this book - more than Maggie's funny and engaging voice, more than the hilarious scenes with her sweet parents - was how every single character was a clever subversion of a stereotype. In their own ways, Penny, Miles (the jock), Jack, and others end up surprising you with their insights, desires, and actions. I guess what I'm trying to say is that nothing is painted in black and white; everyone is given different layers, and almost nobody turns out how you'd expect. Ziegler gives the same thoughtful attention to the Mean Girls and their dynamic as she does to the dorks in the Helping Hands. On top of this, the character development Maggie goes through is intriguing, gripping, and full of angst about what it means to be yourself - and who your real friends are. I also liked the love subplot with Jack; for once, I actually rooted for the guy instead of being bored by the whole thing. Maggie is at first convinced that he's her exact opposite, politically speaking, but he challenges her preconceived notions, directly and indirectly, and it's when he steps out of his comfort zone and lets himself be free that she's won over.

A truly wonderful book about being true to yourself and not letting your fears get in the way of that - but told in a way that makes it original and exciting. Rating: 5 flowered swimcaps out of 5.

Rom-coms & me: it's complicated, okay?

Mon, 02 Nov 2009 23:21:39 GMT

Recently I was looking at EW.com's 40 Bad Romantic Comedies, not for the first time, and it got me thinking. Now, I think I need to start trying to be more positive, but sometimes a good "Worst" list just helps you blow off some steam. So in the interest of keeping the peace, I thought I'd do a little ditty about Some Romantic Comedies I Find Problematic.

You see, a lot of these are movies that I like to watch (maybe not pay moolah for them, but spend a couple hours watching them on TBS). However, a part of my viewing pleasure comes from pointing out what I don't like - a plot twist, annoying characters, silly lines, or just plain predictability. But I will acknowledge that there are people - in some cases, tons of them - who enjoy these movies and would rather not think about them too deeply. Which is probably just as well.

Let's get it on:

Nope, not my fave. I don't care for the leads, I thought it was too hackneyed, and I just didn't enjoy it. For the most part, McConaughey's charm eludes me. Mostly I suppose I reacted negatively to the wealth of love people (okay, mostly girls) give to this movie. It's not bad, but how was it so good? Oh, and two words: "Frost yourselves!" Huh?

You know what? They tried. They really tried to make this an atypical romantic comedy, where the characters were unexpectedly mean (Roberts in the lead) and ultra-sympathetic (Diaz's character who has "stolen" Jules' man). For that, I can't help but applaud them. But did they have to make Dermot Mulroney's character so unlikable? He comes down way too hard on his fiancee in that one scene (you know, before the karyoke singing that was supposed to embarrass her in front of him? Gimme a break). It's also kind of bad form for Jules to realize her love for him just as he's getting married - so bad that it's hard to believe. Poor Kimmy should've dumped him so he could go be mopey and gravelly-voiced with Jules. At least Jules' GBF (gay best friend) has it right: "Who's chasing YOU, Jules?!"

I actually don't mean to pick on Dermot Mulroney - it's not like he's ever done anything to me. And I really like Debra Messing. In fact, everyone in this movie - including a pre-famous Amy Adams and the classically handsome Jack Davenport - is v. likable. It's the movie itself I have a problem with. The plot is utterly unrealistic, the dialogue was stilted and cloying, and I don't understand why Mulroney's male escort falls for Kat; I mean, what's so special about her that he hasn't encountered before? No, seriously, what? But more than that, I'm insulted at the implication that "every woman is in the exact kind of relationship she wants to be in" is true, and it's why relationships fail. So, is it not true for men - do they have more control over being in the relationship they want? Are women weak or confused about the relationships they're in? Does it go both ways or not? No, thanks.

Hey, if you want to believe in fate, soulmates, or astrology, more power to you. I will happily accept almost any movie's conceit and go along with it unless I find some flaw that it can't explain away (or doesn't even bother to explain). Even better if it involves John Cusack in any way. But there's one nagging detail the perfect ending of this movie convienently leaves out: um, what happened to the rebuffed fiance/es? You know, the people Jon and Sara were in love with for most of the movie? It tries to imply that at least one of them realized their mate was in LUV with someone else, but it's not enough. This, in my eyes, makes Jon and Sara not only less trustworthy (if s/he'll cheat with you ...), but also less likable. Ending: ruined.

Here, again, it's not the actors I have a problem with. It's the story itself. Gibson is charismatic, Hunt is lovely, and the scene with Bette Middler is hilarious. But even while Nick goes his merry way, charming the socks off everyone, he steals his ideas from new coworker Darcy (love the name) in order to basically keep his job. At the end, he does the right thing and confesses to his boss that they shouldn't have fired Darcy, but promoted her. Darcy, meanwhile, does the wrong thing and takes him back after he spent the whole movie swindling her out of a job; she falls for his line about him needing a shining knight to rescue him or some such bullcrap. Huh, that's funny, Julia Roberts said the same thing to Richard Gere in ...

Yep, not a fan. This seems to be one of those movies where you either love it or hate it. Well, it didn't click with me, although that's mostly because of the George-from-Seinfeld-raping-Julia-Roberts scene (okay, it was attempted rape, but still). It just doesn't make sense that everyone treats this like a frothy, fun, "empowering-female-character" film when it's about prostitution. Prostitution isn't funny, nor romantic, nor light-hearted, but for the most part the movie ignores all that. Again, it's the story that I don't like, and the characters aren't all that appealing, either.

While the acting is very fine and the chemistry is charming, almost enough to make you love them, there is a big problem with the family Stone. This liberal-minded, all-inclusive, generous brood pretty much refuses to even consider that SJP's character, a tightly-wound businesswoman, might become their in-law. How ... inclusive of them. And don't you just hate that Mama Bear's (Keaton) prediction that SJP is not the one for eldest son Dermot come true when Dermot turns around and falls for Claire Danes? Fine, we'll just have younger bro Luke Wilson be warm for SJP's form - sibling trade-off! No one is left out! Also, the cancer-reappearance subplot is treated with all the subtlety of a bull in a china shop (how could anyone have cried at that, how stupid, sniffle, sniffle). On a happier note, it'd be nice to know if the person who played the deaf brother was an actor with a real disability, and if he's done any other work.

Not sweet, not romantic. A warmed-over plotline that they tried to tote as a "modern Cinderella story." Sorry, Julia, but I could've done without the fat suit (seriously, I don't have a personal vendetta against her; it's her rom-coms I don't like). Sorry, John Cusack, but your obsession with your ex was the only thing stopping me from believing you were falling for her sister. And for God's sake, Billy: "Sixty pounds? That's a Backstreet Boy!" Wha? The fact that even after ten years this joke eludes me is frustrating enough.

Love Audrey Hepburn. Love her, love her, love her. I don't even care that her (singing) voice is dubbed here. But what I do care about is the fact that they Hollywoodized the play on which this is based, thereby skewing the ending and leaving a bad taste in my mouth. So we're meant to believe that Eliza Doolittle, after months of verbal abuse at the hands of an egotistical blowhard who does his best to demean her (and everyone else, actually), comes back to him once the big-headed jerk realizes he's "in love" with her? No thanks, Hollywood.

Even in those ridiculous bridesmaid dresses, Heigl looks beautiful. She can be a loudmouth in real life and I couldn't give a darn. And, um, the poster is really imaginative. Beyond that, this movie's a hopeless mess. So many questions. How did they think turning James Marsden into a stalker would make his character appealling? If Heigl's character has so many friends she likes to help, why don't we ever see any of them hanging out with her? Why didn't anyone slap her bratty sister? Why did I want her to end up with her boss, whom she spends literally nine-tenths of the movie pining after? This could've very easily been a very depressing movie about a lonely, unloved woman, her stalker, and how her sister turns her into a cold bitch - and in a way, for me it was.

Who'd have thought that a girl like her would double as a super ... snooze?

Mon, 02 Nov 2009 00:24:05 GMT

This book is basically a non-musical version of Hannah Montana (and yes, it is sad that I know even one lyric from the opening song by heart).

Jen Calonita has written for Teen People and Entertainment Weekly, one of which is my favorite zine and other something I never read when I was actually a teen. Predictably, this is the first in a series.

Kailtin Burke is one of the hottest and talented teen actresses working in Hollywood. She's a regular on a popular nighttime soap and she's in the running to be in the latest indie director's upcoming film. But between her demanding publicist, a family who's trying to ride her coattails, and a snotty castmate who spreads rumors about her to the gossip rags, Kaitlin wants a change of pace. With the help of her friend Liz, she decides to enroll at Clark High for a few months - posing as "Rachel," a Brit with short brown hair and a cheap wardrobe. Right away, she makes friends and enemies, and especially catches the eye of hottie Austin. But being a "regular" teen proves to be even more stressful, or at least when you're still committed to your superstar schedule. When Kaitlin's trusty Sidekick goes missing, she is majorly freaked out, and everyone wonders if her "vacation" from acting was really worth it.

If I had my way, I wouldn't have even finished this book. It grew more boring and less realistic as it went on. Kaitlin's a nice, sensible main character, without being memorable or original. As it became more clear that this book was centered on her superstar lifestyle and less on her experiences in high school, I lost interest. And when it does focus on Clark High, it loses its believability: are we supposed to believe that "Rachel" essentially breaks up the popular couple, getting Austin to like her and making an enemy of Mean Girl Tori, in the span of a week? I kept thinking that a better author would've delved more into Kaitlin's superficial family, especially her mother who doesn't take the time to understand her. A better author also would've explored the themes of friendship and loyalty, possibly by not making it that easy for Kaitlin to make friends - here, she is accepted by Liz and her two friends without question (because of course Kaitlin chose to go to the high school her one non-famous friend attends). Something about it felt too simple for me.

The other Mean Girl, actress Skylar, was also typical - rich, snobby, and jealous of Kaitlin. Why? I guess we don't need to know, just like we don't need know how talented Kaitlin is. Come to think of it, with stage parents like hers, I don't even know if Kaitlin chose to be in acting or was pushed into it. Basically, the whole thing felt like an excuse to drop big names for no reason. Plus, as a writer Calonita is way too obsessed with describing outfits and the color of people's eyes. Way too distracting.

Go read Pop Princess instead. Rating: 2 on-set tantrums out of 5.

I am such a schmuck

Wed, 28 Oct 2009 21:24:08 GMT

Back from another library outing, not quite as successful as the last. Not only was Rumors not there, I spotted two other books I'd recently purchased on the shelves. Aarrgh! So I felt kind of silly. This time around I noticed just how many fantasy series there are, not to mention how unappealing they looked to me. I explained it to my mother thusly: "It's either books about rich people fucking each other [i.e., Gossip Girl et all] or vampires not fucking each other." I guess I'm applying a kind of if-you've-read-one-you've-read-them-all mentality here, but isn't there a bit of truth to that?

Get ready for another list:

Secrets of My Hollywood Life
Confessions of a Triple Shot Betty
~~How Not to be Popular~~
~~Confessions of an Ugly Stepsister~~

Ironically, Hollywood Life is part of a Gossip Girl-esque series, replacing Manhattan socialites with a teen actress as a protaganist. I'd seen it on Amazon.com a little while ago, so it intrigued me then: the teen actress wants to lead a more normal life, which is something that does appeal to me. Triple Shot Betty looked different and fun, about a group of girls who work at a coffeehouse. Popular sounds to me like the best of the bunch, with its protaganist eschewing her popularity. Ugly Stepsister has been on my radar for the past couple years (I saw a rather well-done TV movie based on it); hopefully it'll renew my faith in Gregory Maguire, whose Wicked was only so-so.

A quick note

Wed, 28 Oct 2009 16:50:47 GMT

I just found out that I need to return If I Stay to the library today. Why? Someone else wants to get their hands on it.

I am disappointed, especially since I was literally halfway through, but I wouldn't want to deny anyone a chance to read it. So it's been put on hold for now.

The good news is, I still have Shrimp left and will also pick out a couple more books when Mom and I stop by the library. I'm thinking of picking up Rumors, a Meg Cabot book, and one or two others that strike my fancy.

A fractured fairy tale of the first (and best) order

Sat, 24 Oct 2009 03:02:50 GMT

Holy wow, am I really posting another book review two days in a row, even though this book was more than the combined lengths of the two previous books* I'd read? I am quite surprised at myself.

This was one of those instances where I gobbled the book up out of the good kind of fascination, and not the bad kind (see: The Luxe). I was riveted.

*I'm bad at math, so this may be a slight exaggeration.

As the niece of the king of Montagne, Ben doesn't really consider herself a princess. She lives away from the castle, with her loving parents, and enjoys a life of joking with her father and devouring her fairy tale books. Tragically, her parents and uncle are assasinated, leaving her with a cold and distantly cruel aunt who assumes the throne. As Ben and Queen Regent Sophia clash, Ben is eventually sent to live in a high tower as punishment for her disobediance - eating more than a princess should (among other things). She discovers a secret room that invites her to learn and practice spells, as well as speak to a mirror that sneakily reveals truths. However, Montagne is under threat from neighboring kingdom Drachenbett, and Ben's ignorance of it only gets her into more trouble. Complicating things is the fact that Drachenbett may be behind her parents' death, she is expected to marry their prince, and there might be a dragon living up in the mountain range between the two cities.

This is an unbelieveably hip and modern take on the classic fairy tale, at least in terms of themes, plotlines, and characters. Nothing is as it seems, an idea echoed wonderfully in the "wizard's room" that Ben finds. The main focus of the book is not the use of magic, but rather Ben outgrowing her childhood, her developing maturity, and learning to stand in others' shoes. At first, Sophia starts out as the typical stepmother in a fairy tale: unloving, bossy, and unaccepting of Ben. But as the story goes on, Ben starts looking at her differently and - maybe most important - treating her differently. I hope I'm not spoiling too much by saying that Sophia, happily, does not turn out to be evil. There are oblique references to other fairy tales, such as Sleeping Beauty, Jack and the Beanstalk, Cinderella, and maybe one or two others; they're subtle, and don't interrupt the flow of the story. Surprisingly, Ben's overeating and weight problems became a plot point, as well as a way of coping with the loss of her parents. I liked that Ben learns something about responsibility and that being a well-informed, competent princess has a lot to be said for it. In this book, knowledge and quick-thinking is a prized quality for a princess and a queen regent to have. I love how there's a major battle near the end, but not at the end. There was a love subplot that I could've done without, but it doesn't hurt the book at all. The prose struck me as lovely and melodic, like the best fairy tales should be. It was fun, exciting, thoughtful, and well-paced, and it had some great female characters.

Rating: 4.5 talking mirrors out of 5.

Well, isn't this nice? Boy, girl, boy ...

Thu, 22 Oct 2009 21:11:44 GMT

Mangled quote from that one scene in White Christmas (you know, when they sing about snow). Anyway, about the book: it was another quick read, but I think it was just light and quirky enough to get away with it.

Wow, that's pretty big. I love that cover - I like it when the cover of the book reflects themes or tropes in the book. It strikes me as a friendly cover.

Elliot, Teresa, and Larry love one another as much as they hate living in small-town Wendleville. They're planning to skip town right after graduation, head to California, and spent the rest of their lives just depending on one another. In the meantime, Elliot's stressing about main girl Mary Ann and disappointing his father by not going to college; Teresa is still super resentful that her mother left her and and her majorly introverted dad; and Larry is pretty sure he's gay, which hardly ever goes over well in a small town. Each contemplate the people and the confused feelings they're going to leave behind when they go. But when one of them gets put in danger, they must each reevaluate the direction of their lives, and how much their friendship should influence them.

I'll just say this right now: I don't particularily like quick reads. I think it's a personal preference that I like long books that emphasize a winding plot as well as strong characters. Nonetheless, I did enjoy this book. The characters are off-beat while feeling very real, and all had shades of gray. I liked the structure of the plot - how it felt loose and free-wheeling, which makes the incident that happens two-thirds of the way through all the more sudden. I also liked how the author showed the closeness of the three friends - they share so much: thoughts, feelings, experiences. At the same time, they each have something private: Elliot likes his relationship with his understanding mother, Teresa enjoys her amatuer photography, and Larry hides the fact that he's more certain of his sexuality than everyone else. And of course, some of their perceptions get opened up. Not everything is resolved at the end, which I admit left me a little sad, but it's clear that things have changed ... as well as stayed the same.

Rating: 4 bad photographs out of 5.

Texas or bust

Mon, 19 Oct 2009 17:10:23 GMT

This is another of my library finds, a short and sweet offering from Carolyn Mackler. Apparently it's a sequel of a previous book, but the main character is different.

Interesting that this should be a road-trip story, since I've been thinking of writing a road-trip story of my own. (This may or may not have to do with the fact that a good friend of mine recently moved to Oklahoma, and many of my school friends are back in Manhattan KS).

V loves meaningless hook-ups as much as she hopes her estranged mother will come up to see her graduate. Having lived with her grandparents in New York for over a year, she's finally been able to finish high school - moving around with her flighty mom, Aimee, was way too much of an interruption. Things change when V meets Sam, a patient, sweet guy who doesn't give a second thought about commitment. Unfortunately, this scares V off, and after a terrible fight she decides to accept Aimee's invitation to visit her in Texas before going to Boston U in the fall. A determined V embarks on a 2,000-mile journey not only to finally see her mom, but as an attempt to forget about Sam - the mere thought of whom is driving her crazy. Along the way, she encounters shady motels, more meaningless hook-ups, and people who are as loyal to and welcoming of her as Aimee is distant and out of touch.

I didn't enjoy this book as much as The Earth, My Butt, And Other Big Round Things, and I think that was due to how short this is. Which isn't to say the story itself is slight; I liked V's inner dialogue and her self-awareness about why she did the things she does. I really liked how frank this book was about teen sex and masturbation - these are things that a girl like V wouldn't shy away from talking about. I also liked the different families V stayed with, as they showed the progression of V's growing maturity. I'm not sure if the "estranged mom" issue was resolved, but I think this is in keeping with the book's theme that some problems take a long time to fix. Sam is on V'smind all the time, and we get some insight into their relationship, but I wish he made more of an impression on me in the beginning. I also wish I got a better bead on the grandparents, who don't have a lot to distinguish them. But overall the road trip them gelled with the tone of the book very well, and a great example of that sub-genre. And the ending was original and surprising, in a quiet sort of way.

It didn't bowl me over, but it's a better read than, say, The Luxe. Rating: 3.5 stray hockey pucks out of 5.

A slow succession of busy nothings

Thu, 15 Oct 2009 16:44:07 GMT

This post's title is a slightly altered quote from one of my all-time favorites, Mansfield Park. It's funny (well, not funny ha-ha) how well it describes the extreme non-events in this book. However, I find myself confused as to how I feel about it.

Disclaimer: They didn't wear dresses like that in 1899. But, oh my God, the marketing people they have are geniuses.

Elizabeth Holland is perfect: she's a dutiful daughter, a good friend, comes from a family of "old money," and also does what's proper and right. When her mother announces Elizabeth's engagement to Henry Schwoonmaker, the most popular bachelor around, Elizabeth has no choice but to accept. This infuriates Penelope Hayes, nouveau riche bitch who has pretended for years to be Elizabeth's best friend precisely because they are potential rivals. Penelope has been doing the horizental tango with Henry and expects to marry him; learning that Elizabeth will "get" him unleashes her not-so-inner deviousness. Meanwhile, younger Hollland sister Diana is falling hard for Henry, and he for her. In the lower class, disgruntled maid Lina is jealous that Elizabeth - assumed to be a virgin by everyone else - is having an affair with Will, the Hollands' couchman, whom Lina is in love with. But we the readers are told, at the very beginning, that the books ends with Elizabeth's funeral. Oh, dear.

Well, after the author hammers into the readers how beatiful, saintly, kind, and perfect Elizabeth is, the story starts and moves along at a glacial pace. This is frustrating because the plot could be very exciting, full of layers and depth - it was fascinating at first. But the writing is incredibly boring and passive, lacking excitement and at times just awkward. Godberson spends ways too much time on the outfits the characters wear and the way the opulent rooms are furnished. Details like these are clunky and take up too much space. I wanted to like Diana, who is described as being both adventurous and a huge bookworm, but I came to find her story boring. Penelope had spark, but was too Mean Girlish to sincerely like. Elizabeth's whining about trying to do the right thing was as annoying as Lina's constant moodiness - not to mention her obsession with hating Elizabeth. And nothing happened - a pivotal scene in a book should not center around firing the maid for spilling tea on your dress. All of the characters had, at most, two dimensions to their personalities; others were paper-thin.

Any good things? I can hardly remember. Still, I'd like to read the sequel to see what happens with Penelope, who is intriguing, and Lina, who with any luck will start to mature. (Oh, and I couldn't see what was so special about Will.) Although I did find a depressing article on how this book was essentially written by committee (the last big paragraph).

Rating: 2 black faille dresses with a low, square neck, tight waist, and tiered skirt out of 5.

I watched it so you wouldn't have to (even know what it is)

Tue, 13 Oct 2009 21:33:26 GMT

I still can't believe I made myself do it, but I can't deny it now: Over the weekend, I watched The Clique, the movie based on Lisi Harrison. What was I thinking? Well, in the spirit of total honesty, there is something about teen movies that I find intriguing. Hell, I watched Where The Boys Are, a 60s-era spring break movie, just a few days ago. Even sub-par movies made on the cheap will spark my interest (for the first few minutes or so, and then I usually switch back to USA for a Monk marathon). I know to expect the convoluted story, the bad acting, and the trying-too-hard "jokes," but that never stops me. There's something fascinating(ly wrong) about the way Hollywood likes to portray high school life. Of course, it's occasionally worth it if it's well-done and feels natural.

Feast your eyes, people. Hatwear, multiple layers, leather gloves, knee-highs, and wavy locks. These are the most stylish and sickeningly rich 12-year-olds at Octavian Country Day School. That's their leader, Massie, in the foreground. How can you tell she's their boss? Her dog is a pit bull. Or the leash represents her tight hold on her friends, constantly controlling where they go and what they do.

Ha, no. Symbolism in The Clique? Not likely.

To ~~hono~~r mock Massie's character-defining In/Out lists, I'm going to try a smilar format.

IN:
Parents who don't let their bitchy daughter walk all over them.
Claire, who's sweet and cute and vulnerable and will grow up to be gorgeous.
A healthy relationship between Claire and her mom, where they talk about Claire's changing attitude as she tries to fit in. (This doesn't really happen until later in the third act.)
Kristen, who reveals a secret that makes her way different from her friends.
Lainey (sp?), a girl at school who doesn't mind being an outcast. She has a cool voice. I'd hang out with her in a heartbeat.
Having an indoor pool.
Yoga class taught at school. Freaking awesome.
A lost-and-found that boasts last-season clothes from famous names. I'm not huge on clothes, but WANT.
A BFF who buys you stuff to constantly, and subtlely, ensure your undying loyalty. (Maybe not the most healthy thing, I have to admit.)
Having a good-hearted girl who wears Old Navy stop you from making a fool of yourself, even after you've done everything to make her feel like a perpetual outsider, Massie.
Learning to share your friends, Massie.
IN/OUT lists. These are kind of fun.

OUT:
Permanent bitchface - Massie.
Throwing tantrams over things like a group of people moving into the guesthouse that your parents own - Massie.
Immediately hating the new girl just because your Supreme Leader/rich BFF says so. (Okay, so most middle schoolers tend to do this. That doesn't make it any better.)
Lame pun-insults that you think are threatening, but actually sound like bad Leno quips - Massie.
Getting red paint on the new girl's white pants so it looks like she's got her period - Kristen.
Letting your already over-priveleged students get away with using their cell phones during class. Wise up, teachers of OCD.
Falling for a guy with Boy Meets World-era long hair - Massie.
Twelve-year-olds wearing designer bikinis. Kind of ew-inducing.
Saying "Cu-laire" - Massie.
Pronouncing "Oh, my God" like you're freakin' Carmen from South Park - Alicia.
Did I mention the bitchface? It really wasn't pretty. Massie.
Ditching your friends to meet up with a guy - Massie.
Pretending to be Massie on IM in order to sabotage her friendships. Not cool, Claire.
Ditching your new, much cooler friend to hang with the rich bitches for a sleepover. That the Mean Girl's mother invited you to. Give it a few years, Claire - you'll realize that Lainey, much like Juno and Janice, is the best friend you'll ever have.
Twelve-year-olds who diet. Even worse? When their mothers make them. Someone call child services on Dylan's mom.
Not knowing anything about characters' motivations. So, Massie lets Claire save the day why?
IN/OUT lists ... when you do them constantly, as if your life is so busy and important that you can't possibly keep track of what's cool and what's not without typing one up all the time.

If you read carefully, you might have picked up on who my least favorite character was (hint: she's right next to the pit bull). It wasn't as terrible as I thought - really a watered-down version of Mean Girls with really pretty clothes thrown in - and it was more or less on par with how tween girls act. When Massie wasn't around, sometimes the other three would have fun being with Claire, which helps back up Massie's claim that Claire is a threat to her Queen Bee status. Okay, if you say so. I resented the implication that Massie is supposed to be someone to sympathize with - the film begins with a scene in her room, and we're with her as she looks out her window at Claire's family as they arrive. The whole movie is about Massie and Claire, instead of just Claire - who's obviously the protagonist and the character the target audience is going to root for. My point is, just because I covet Massie's lifestyle doesn't mean I'll like her - or that I want to be like her.

This isn't meant to be a review, so I won't bother with a rating. You already know how I feel about at least one of these books. I guess I'll leave it at this: I keep thinking I could do something better with these characters, but obviously tween readers are happy with them as they are.

"If I can't save anyone, why did you send me here?"

Sat, 10 Oct 2009 00:09:28 GMT

I have no idea how I'm going to write this review, but I'm looking forward to trying. I have just finished reading it - all 973 pages - and now I can return it to my grandmother (with one page slightly dog-eared, but let's just keep that a secret).

Warning: Very unsavory details ahead. This book is quite explicit.

Pillars tells an epic story about the building of the Kingbridge Cathedral and those invovled, either directly or indirectly, with the construction as well as the rising prosperity of the town itself. Since it's a tale told through the eyes of many different characters, I think it'll be easier for me to list them and how they impact the cathedral (and vice versa):

Philip: A faithful and good-hearted monk, Philip eventually becomes the prior of Kingsbridge and commissions the buidling of said cathedral. Philip trusts in God and generally tries to see the good in people; when provoked by unfairness and brutality, he can be clever and resourceful. He gets on the bad side of a few bad guys, such as Bishop Waleran (one who uses his powers for purely selfish gains) and William Hamleigh (a horrible brute of a man; more below) - powerful men. He spends most of the novel trying to keep track of the ever-changing monarchy, always supportive of those who are sympathetic to the church.
Tom Builder: After suffering a couple horrible blows - his dear wife dies in childbirth and he's forced to abandon his newly born son in the woods - Tom becomes the architect of the cathedral. He meets Ellen, a woman who has lived the bulk of her life in the wild, and they fall in love; she shows him that his baby was mercifully seen and taken to Philip to be the orphan of the monastary. Tom has two motivations for staying around Kingbridge: to watch over his youngest child, and to build the cathedral of his dreams. He is a sensitive, gentle, bright man whose only flaw is a blind spot where his boorish son Alfred is concerned.
Jack: Ellen's son, Jack is a clever child who takes more interest in Tom's work than any of Tom's own children. Jack is eleven when we first meet him, and is uneasy about having to adjust to living in a town as opposed to a dense forest. He and Alfred have a bitter rivalry that lasts for the rest of their lives. Jack becomes curious about his father, who died before Jack was born, but Ellen is mum about the details. Jack also falls in love with Aliena, and moves to France when she has to marry Alfred, who marries her mostly to spite Jack.
Aliena: Originally the proud, brilliant daughter of an earl, Lady Aliena loses her father and his earldom when he is imprisoned. She suffers an awful raping at the hands of William, but later escapes with little brother Richard and meets up with a kind and helpful Philip. Having promised her father to make sure Richard is made earl again someday (William's family has took the earldom), Aliena rebuilds her life by going into the woll business. Eventually she finds love with Jack - after a short, unconsummated marriage with Alfred, she seeks Jack overseas, although obstacles hinder them from getting married.
William: The arrogant, nasty-minded son of Percy Hamleigh, William is enraged when Lady Aliena refuses to marry him - an event that sets the entire story into motion. Even after he sexually assults her, he can't stop thinking about her; meanwhile he develops a taste for violent sex, employing rape as a means to control those he lords over. A good strategist on the killing field, William must think quickly as the throne is constantly overthrown or usurped by various would-be rulers. His loyalty is with whoever will win the next battle, so he may keep his newfound earldom no matter what. He is in awe of his mother, who is devious and unloving, and has a hate-hate relationship with Waleran, whom he comes to depend on for support.

As you can see, it would be easy for me to go on about the characters. And there are more: Martha, Tom Builder's daughter who looks up to Jack; Francis, Philip's brother who manages to keep getting high profile jobs; Ellen, whose curses have a knack of coming horribly true; and Richard, a master at the strategy of war and fighting but often ungrateful of the struggles Aliena has endured for him. One of the fascinating things about this book is being about to trace over every character's history to see how one affects the other; for example, the only reason Tom gets to build the cathedral is because young Jack accidentally-on-purpose sets fire to the existing church of Kingbridge. Which wouldn't have happened if Tom and Ellen hadn't fallen in love. Which wouldn't have happened if Tom's wife hadn't died ... And, as mentioned above, if Lady Aliena - a budding feminist if there ever was one - hadn't spurned William on the grounds that she couldn't marry someone she didn't love, Tom wouldn't have been suddenly out of work (at the beginning, Tom's building something for the Hamleighs) and his family wouldn't have traveled to Kingsbridge. That's the kind of storytelling I admire and appreciate.

Of course, the themes and issues at hand play a large role in the story as well. Philip's sincere devoutness is contrasted with the ambitious Waleran's continual actions to see Philip's ruin and his own success. The brilliance of Jack's mind is contrasted with Alfred's dullness; Tom's loving character with William's violent streak. How love is as strong an attachment as hate and the desire for revenge. How loyalty can be rewarded and rewarding, politically and spiritually. This book is a study on the pitfalls of double-crossing, the strength of loyalty, the edurance of evil as well as the good and true, and faith in others - God included. For an author who states in the preface that he himself is an atheist, this is commendable (actually being an atheist - well, that's your call).

The title of this post is a quote from Philip, midway through the novel, when he is stuck in a city in the middle of a siege and is frustrated by all the terrible things happening around him - raping, looting, violence - and how he is helpless to stop it all. I feel that Philip carries with him the heart of the story, and although we are introduced to other characters before his, I identified the most with Philip. He is a devout man who admits his faults where he has them and does what he does out of a desire to protect those around him - friends, fellow monks, and eventually all of Kingbridge. He believes that goodness, intelligence, loyalty, and honesty should be rewarded, and envisions a day when peace will be order of the day for everyone. He is truly a man to admire.

The other characters were, if not as deftly written, at least as memorable. Ellen and Aliena are both strong, independent women who find the strength to go after what they want. As a modern reader, I was worried that Aliena never received any kind of counseling for what she went through; that's how it must be, of course, since times back then (the 1100s) were brutishly different. But she learned to no longer be frightened of William, men, and the idea of sex, and grew to love Jack with her whole heart. William, easily the most despicable and awful character I've come across, makes a lasting impression as well; I cringed during the multiple rape scenes. Jack and Tom were a bit more complex and well-rounded; I especially enjoyed scenes where Jack shows off his intelligence and curiousity.

The writing on the whole is incredibly accessible, if simple at times, and Follett creates a vivid, dirty, unscrupulous world of messy politics and a complex system of faith. It may not strike people as a must-read, since it doesn't offer any great revelations, but it's a perfectly crafted epic story for readers who love a feast. Be wary of many architectual technicalities and try to keep up with the revolving door of those who take - and lose - the throne. Rating: 4.5 masons out of 5.

Success!

Wed, 07 Oct 2009 22:41:14 GMT

The Johnson County library system has again made it possible for me to enjoy a nice selection of YA lit without having to part with my money - and threw in a couple treats for me, as well. Get ready for a doozy of a reading list:

~~Boy Girl Boy~~
If I Stay*
~~Guyaholic~~
Shrimp
~~Princess Ben~~
~~The Luxe~~

How great is that? No less than three books I've had my eye on every time I went into Borders, and here they are, sitting in my room. Hell, I was so excited for Luxe that I'm already at chapter 7! I'm going to have to slow down, though, because I've just began The Season which has many similar themes. I think I've also noted Stay is something that I've been eager to try; Shrimp is the second book in Rachel Cohn's Gingerbread series. Guyaholic was written by Carolyn Mackler, the wonderful author of The Earth, My Butt, and Other Big Round Things, and itself was featured on Pop Culture Junkie. I honestly can't wait to read it. Princess Ben looks like a clever book about a strong feminist princess, as well as quite a popular fantasy novel (judging by the number of copies there). And Boy Girl Boy looks like a quirky read, and its third-wheel narrator - or so I gleaned from the summary - appeals to me. This list does mean that I'll have to put a hold on the few books I've just bought (plus one or two on their way to me from amazon.com).

And - you won't believe this - I found the craziest thing. Someone made a Clique movie! The horror! I had had HAD to pick it up, if only to see how bad it is, of course. Apparently, it actually came out ~~in theaters~~ (sorry, I was mistaken) in 2008 and was produced by Tyra Banks. Good (terrible) news - they've stayed true to the weird spelling, as one of the special features is entitled Ehmagawd! We're Rolling: Stars on the Set. (Do me a favor: try to sound that out. What does it sound like? Is it a word? What accent is that? Doesn't it sound like how the South Park characters talk?)

I am sure I will have a review of The Pillars of the Earth up in a few days. Until then, :)

Rogen going "Green"

Sat, 03 Oct 2009 21:59:31 GMT

I am a girl with unsophisticated tastes, so it should come as little surprise that I'm a fan of Judd Apatow and Co. Truth be told, I was a little late to the game - The 40-Year-Old Virgin and Knocked Up were both out on DVD by the time my interest was piqued. But something appealed to me in those movies, where immature humor co-exists with real grown-up problems and issues. These movies show that comedy and drama aren't exclusive, and that movies that embrace both can succeed (Funny People, I admit, didn't do such a great job of demonstrating this). As someone who can appreciate both, I like the idea of more movies showcasing both of them equally - a more-bang-for-your-buck kind of appeal.

There's one person in particular whose career I follow most intently: Seth Rogen. I think his biggest appeal is that he's funny and talented while also coming across as completely normal, so it's easy to relate to the guy. He's a screenwriter as well as a funny guy, and he's said that he only writes the kind of movies that he and his friends would pay to see. Would that more people wrote like that. I can relate to that because I'm busy writing the kind of books I'd want to read. Rogen (as well as his friends/like-minded set of actors) is a game-changer, which is something I believe Hollywood has needed for a long time. Let me put it this way: I'd rather pay $10 to go see him do his best in Funny People than watch a bunch of romantic cliches be exploited in The Ugly Truth.

After a few off-beat movies - Pineapple Express, Observe and Report - I was eager to see what came next. Apparently, the choice was so odd to everyone that many declared outright it would be a major bomb. Rogen is writing and starring in The Green Hornet, a full-on action movie based on a TV show from the 60s. Unfortunately, at first it seemed like the naysayers were right: it was a TV-to-movie adaptation a la Get Smart; they had to replace the director and the actor playing sidekick Kato; the release date was set back from summer 2010 to winter 2010; and perhaps most glaringly, Rogen is not known for action movies - he makes jokes and looks fat and doesn't give a damn.

Even I was unsure. Why should I care about a crime-fighting superhero who's best known for his TV show sidekick, Bruce Lee? But Rogen, it turns out, was deadly serious: it's a straight-up superhero flick, he's doing his own stunts (at least, those that the studio will let him do, I imagine), and he lost quite a few pounds in order to really look the part. And you know what? He's way hot:

Dude! Green is so your color.

It's pictures like these that make my little fangirl heart go pitter-patter - not to mention assure me that G.H. is totally going to be a reality. It's weird to think that I'll be a year into grad school by the time this comes out, and I can't wait. Hopefully it'll be funnier than most superhero movies, what with Rogen (along with Evan Goldberg, his writing partner) having wrote the script. And maybe this will start a shift in Hollywood - typecasting will be less frequent, and more writer/actors will put out successful self-penned movies that audiences will love. Paul Rudd, after all, helped to write Role Models. And I hear Jason Segel is writing another Muppets movie.

Meanwhile, look at Seth go! He's really hustlin'!

Sir, I would gladly part with $5 - $10 to see how the hell this turns out.

How many zombies does it take to ruin a social life?

Fri, 02 Oct 2009 21:23:56 GMT

How fitting that my first review of October should be for a book like this. If I time it right, I could have Twilight read and reviewed by Halloween. (Not that I'm making any promises.)

There's been a lot of horror/fantasy stuff coming out lately - not just books, but TV shows and movies - but nevertheless I was surprised to see that this book came out earlier this year. Is it weird that I kinda want those shoes?

Megan is a sophomore who wants the typical teen girl stuff - impressing the upperclassbitches at cheerleader tryouts, hoping QB and all-around hottie Josh will ask her to homecoming, and not letting Queen Bee Monica get to her. But the thing is, Megan is a Settler: a person that has to deal with dead people who have unfinished business. When someone turns out to be using dark magic to turn these dead people into full-on zombies, Megan suspects it's because someone doesn't want her to go to homecoming. Of course, no one at Settlers HQ believes that, but even so they assign her a bodyguard, old friend Ethan who's suddenly gorgeous (and also a major thorn in her side). After a couple major zombie attacks, Megan wants out of the Settler business, even though her power exceeds that of most people her age. But once her BFF Jess gets mixed up in it, Megan thinks she has to save her. Oh, and she's not sure if Ethan likes her or like-likes her.

Let's get the little things out of the way: the writing is amusing and all, the action scenes are exciting, Monica is suitably bitchy, and Megan's a cute, somewhat superficial 15-year-old girl who is prone to exaggeration. In other words, a believable teen. I liked - loved - the twist ending, where we learn who's behind the dark magic and why, especially after Megan goes through the entire book suspecting nearly everyone (a sampling of suspects: Monica, because bitch = evil, and Beth, Josh's ex). Monica, I forgot to mention, is also a Settler, and had helped a younger Megan escape a brutal zombie attack a few years ago. But they still hate each other, because Monica is popular and Megan is not . Why let a life-threatening situation change that?

Here's what I didn't like: Ethan. As soon as he appears, Megan's hormones go into overdrive and she starts drooling over him - while also getting annoyed at his holier-than-thou attitude. He spends most of the books giving her so many mixed signals: does he think of her as a little sister? Could he ever be attracted to her? What could that hug that went on for a full page possibly mean? Of course, we get to hear about his hotness over and over (without ever actually knowing what he looks like), but he acts so infuriating and above Megan that I never cared about him. They knew each other when they were younger, but I couldn't get a handle on what their relationship was like then. Did they even like each other? Ethan has a major protective side when it comes to Megan, which is frustrating for her in more than one way. Maybe I'm just feeling her frustration, or maybe I really don't like characters like these.

Rating: 3 voodoo dolls out of 5.

Warning: Do not read this book

Tue, 29 Sep 2009 01:56:19 GMT

I'm totally serious. The only reason I did is because I had to read it for my Shakespeare & Children's Lit class (other survivers are here and here). I've tried so hard to forget I ever read it, but I finally decided to bite the bullet and post a review.

Apparently, Sharon Draper has other book out that are much better, and reflect her decent talent for YA writing. But this book is one huge FAIL, and I'm not about to excuse her. Here's how much I didn't like it: I've sold it to a used book store.

Romiette is a wealthy, black girl who keeps having nightmares about drowning. Julio is the new kid in town, a teen who's proud of his Hispanic heritage. They meet first via an Internet chat room and soon realize that they both go to the same school - a school that also has a serious gang problem (ironically, one of the reasons Julio moved away from Texas). They meet in person and a chaste courtship follows, marred by the racial tension at the school between blacks and hispanics. Romi gets some support from her BFF Destiny, who is obsessed with astrology and fate; Julio befriends Ben, a joker who changes his hair color every day. The four of them decide that they're the only ones who can stop the gang violence - by catching some evidence of a gang doing gang stuff - but then Romi and Julio are captured and suddenly the whole town, including their worried parents, go into rescue mode.

Oh, where to start? All of the characters are two-dimensional, boring, and kind of predictable. There was an overload of dialogue (which I hate) that was either too corny or too repetitious - most of it wasn't believable dialogue. Most of the time they didn't talk or act like actual teens. One of my biggest complaints? We don't even get to see the couple's first meeting! It's all told through the main characters gushing to their friends about it. And there were constant, constant references to Romeo and Juliet, which this is obviously based on, by many of the characters. It was off-putting. It was kind of tense near the ending, when they're captured and their respective fathers are in the police station, each mistrustful of the other. But any tension is destroyed when Draper employs obvious and overly trite tactics to demonstrate the unity of the racially-different community. We get it: Racism is bad. It's like Draper wrote this for people who are confused about the concept of raciam.

Come on. Even Romeo and Juliet went beyond mere kissing! Give me an adaptaion with a little bite to it. Rating: 1.5 purple gang uniforms out of 5.

And then my faith in YA lit was completely restored

Fri, 25 Sep 2009 16:38:41 GMT

All right, maybe that's a slight exaggeration, since I never really lost my faith in the first place. But I have been noticing that some of the books I've read lately, with the exception of Sweet 16, haven't really wowed me. This book, however, is a major game-changer.

First of all, feast your eyes on this doozy of a cover. Don't you just wish you could jump into it, a la Mary Poppins, and live in that colorful, cartoony version of New York? Because among other things, this book is a gentle celebration of all things New York.

When Delia first hears of her mother T.K.'s disappearance while doing research in the South Pole, she is frazzled and distraught. Presumed to be dead, T.K.'s will is brought out: she has charged her two younger sisters, Delia's aunts in New York, joint custody - and before she can react, Delia is sent to NYC to live with aunt Charley, a bohemian goddess, and attend a stuffy private school that aunt Patience has picked out for her. Meanwhile, Delia keeps getting tiny clues that T.K. may not actually be dead - that she's trying to contact Delia. She does some research on the Internet, meets uber-geek Natalie who helps her put some clues together, and even tries to hire a private investigator. Of course, a distraction come in the form of Quinn, the main hottie at school who acts like a different person when he's alone with Delia. Oh, and Quinn's father may or may not be completely trustworthy, along with T.K.'s weasely assistant Thad, so Delia's got a lot to think about.

Whatta book! I don't know how Jennifer Sturman was able to keep its tone light-hearted and funny and mysterious all at once, but she did. Delia is almost instantly relatable, even if her conspircy-ladden plot isn't - a funny, smart, practical girl. The real treats are the secondary characters, especially free spirit Charley and T.K.-worshipping Natalie (T.K. is a famous "Internet tycoon"). The way Patience's character is introduced is one of the funniest and more inventive ways I've seen in a book. Delia's and Quinn's relationship had a more original progression than most, and his loyalty to her is revealed in a surprising way. One complaint? I wish we got to know Patience better, as well as Natalie and the strange circumstances under which Quinn's mother lost custody of him. I'm not sure if they're related to the overall mystery, but then again, there must be more to the mystery itself, since apparently there's a sequel coming our way. Yes!

This is one of the smartest purchases I've made in recent weeks. So glad I read it. Rating: 4.5 scoops of ice cream out of 5.

Don't talk to strangers ... especially if they happen to be fairies

Mon, 21 Sep 2009 16:40:02 GMT

This is one of the many fantasy-themed books noww out on the market, thanks to the intense popularity of Twilight. Now, the only fantasy books I've read in the past few years are the Harry Potter and Discworld series; despite being a fantasy-lover in my youth (I offer this as exhibit A), I've really gone off it lately.

My paperback is quick to declare, rather vaguely, that this is a "New York Times Bestseller." I bought this mostly because of the title and having seen this book featured on another blog.

Aislinn was born with the gift - or curse - of being able to see the faeries that walk our world and are invisible to almost all mortals. But she'd much rather worry about her close friendship with Seth, a soulful guy with a reputation for only having one-night stands. What Aislinn doesn't known, however, is that the Summer King of the faery court, Keenan, is searching for his queen - and thinks Aislinn is it. She doesn't know why Keenan and other faeries are maskerading as humans, and are suddenly giving her all their attention. She doesn't know that Donia, the faery who is tasked to convince her to not accept Keenan, is trying to hide her love for him and her pain that she failed the test to be his Queen. And she especially doesn't know that Keenan's mother, tthe Winter Queen Beira, is out to stop her son and his eventual Queen from usurping her rule, and has no qualms about killing any and all who get in her way.

Marr is a very good writer, able to create intrigue and a tension-filled plot. Her deft writing was a nice surprise to me - unlike some YA writers, she doesn't give off the impression that she's talking down to her readers. I liked that she didn't let Aislinn and Seth's subplot go on to be an unrequited love cliche, but instead lets them sort out their feelings pretty early on. I liked that she chose to have multiple points of view, so you get to see the story from Aislinn's, Keenan's, and Donia's side; this makes it so that no one (except the exceptionally cruel, heartless Beira) comes off as completely good or completely bad. Sometimes it was a struggle to keep track of everyone's differing motivations, but that's due to the density of the plot rather than the writing. I do wish we got more backstory on Aislinn's mother, who died in childbirth, and her Grams, with whom she lives. I also wanted to know more about the politics of the faery court, since it's hinted that there are more powerful faeries than either Keenan or Beira, so it was a bit hard to figure out exactly whose lives were at stake with this Queen-hunting business. I'm almost sure such questions will be answered in subsequent sequals (this is the first "tale of Faerie" in a series, predictably). And although the dark tone was cool, I wanted a bit more variety - let's just say if you're looking for humor, stay away from this.

I'm not sure that I'm on board with the fantasy renaissance, but I do think that Marr is a refreshing new voice in YA lit. Rating: 4 facial piercings out of 5.

The reason why/I'm gone and you're still here

Sat, 19 Sep 2009 21:51:42 GMT

Quote from "Reason Why" by Rachael Yamagata. She is singing about a break-up, whereas I am only referring to my week-long absense from Haven. I don't like going so long without having something to post about, but the problem right now is that I don't have any reviews to put up. I'm too busy reading to spend a lot of time even reviewing books I've read years ago. But in order to give comfort to the two, possibly three loyal readers I have (and also to reassure myself), I offer this list of books I'm currently reading/planning to read.

~~The Pillars of the Earth~~
~~Wicked Lovely~~
~~And Then Everything Unraveled~~
The Season
~~You Are So Undead to Me~~
The Giver
A Wrinkle in Time
Are We There Yet?
Lemonade Mouth

Pillars is currently taking up most of my reading time, and since I'm halfway through, it'll take another 3 weeks to finish. More likely I'll have the review to Wicked Lovely up sooner. I'm v. happy to have found Everything and Season, both in lovely hardback editions (keep dishing out those online coupons, Borders!). Undead sounds like a fun treat, and I truly can't wait to get through Giver and Wrinkle - two amazing classics.

The last two books I just found today at the Reading Reptile, a KC area children's bookstore that has unparalleled taste in books. Are We There Yet? is a David Levithan book I can't wait to read, and Lemonade sounds like a funny combo of King Dork and Stargirl. There were, in fact, two other Levithan books there (one being The Realm of Possibility), making for the largest collection of Levithan books I've ever seen in a bookstore. I think I might've mentioned in a previous post that I wanted to read more books written by male authors, and Lemonade (and, indeed, Are We There Yet? and Pillars) definitely makes the cut. I like to find books that I imagine no one else looking for, if that makes sense, and that was another way Lemonade appealed to me.

This buying of books will have to cease for a while, because I need to reign it in on my spending in general, but for now I have enough books to last until, possibly, the end of the year. Also, I will have to concentrate more on applying for grad school, so there's a good chance that I won't be posting as frequently as I have - at least not on books. Perhaps another Freaks and Geeks post, or something on Undeclared or even a current TV show? I'm a big fan of How I Met Your Mother (go, Neil!), and just watched Parks & Recreation (go, Amy!). We'll see.

Oh, and I have a friend who has finally talked me into reading and reviewing Twilight. Pray for me.

An addiction I don't mind having ... normally

Mon, 14 Sep 2009 01:53:51 GMT

I bought this book because the sequel, Rude Awakenings of a Jane Austen Addict, is out right now. I decided that I had to read this, partly in order to glean how much I'd like the sequel, and partly because it would help me in my quest to read more Austen-inspired books.

Side note: Even in paperback form, it's $4-$6 more than your average YA novel, some of which are just as long as this. I wonder why this is?

Courtney, a 30-year-old living in modern L.A., has just called off her engagement to Frank and is in the process of trying to forget about her friend Wes, who tried to hide Frank's infidelities from her. Suddenly, with no explanation, she switches bodies with Jane Mansfield, a young, unmarried woman in 1813 - the era of all things Jane Austen. Courtney meets Mrs. Mansfield (more vicious than Mrs. Norris) and Mr. Mansfield (less attentive as a husband than Mr. Bennett), "Jane's" close friend Mary Edgecomb, her uppity cousin Susan, and the friendly and clever Charles Edgecomb (Mary's brother). Jane has just taken a nasty spill, which seems to account for Courtney/Jane's memory loss, at least for everyone else. Courtney, meanwhile, has to adjust quickly to the norms and rules of the day: no make-up, infrequent bathing, unflattering dresses, and complete bedrest when her, ahem, monthly bill comes around. But more importantly, she keeps getting odd hints as to what kind of person the real Jane was, and some of Jane's memories appear in her mind. Will she be Jane forever? Is she only trying to avoid what's going on in her life back home?

Ultimately, I came away asking more questions than getting satisfying answers. I don't know if this book wants to be a straight-up romance or a mystery that veers into sci-fi territory. Courtney does a lot of pondering about the society of 1813 vs. the one of L.A. in the 2000s, especially when it comes to women's rights and restrictions. She also experiences the responsibilities that a woman was expected to have: minding the servants, being respectful of others, and avoiding men who just want one thing (hint: it's not marriage). Meanwhile, she also thinks a lot about Frank and Wes - about how differently they both treated her (it's more or less obvious that Wes has feelings for her), as well as falling in love with Mr. Edgecomb, despite Mary cautioning her against it. Rigler has a lot going on in this book, like an almost-tryst between real-Jane and a male servant and the fact that real-Jane apparently could predict the future, but nothing is explored enough. Even the explanation that is finally given, that "something ripped apart the barriers of what we refer to as time and space," feels half-assed. Rigler doesn't throw anyone any bones here.

Another complaint is that Courtney/Jane and Mr. Edgecomb barely seem to spend any time together; he's already fallen in love with real-Jane, and so there is little tension there. I enjoyed the scenes between Courtney/Jane and Mary, whom Courtney trusts more than anyone else. Mr. Mansfield is also interesting as an artist whose work is surprisingly modern. The writing is accessible and witty, and as I said before, I do like Courtney's many musings on 1813 society, real-Jane, and her own problems back home. But I was looking for something more in the ending, other than the typical everybody-ends-up-with-somebody-else fairy tale ending. (That doesn't come as a surprise, does it?) Also, the allusions to various Austen books seem slapped-on and arbitrary, like she just put them in there so she could justify having Austen's name in the title.

I'm putting my faith in the fact that the sequel perhaps answers some lingering questions, since Rigler seems to be a smart and capable writer. But this isn't a huge must-read. Rating: 3.5 first-copy editions of Pride and Prejudice out of 5.

"No matter what anyone else tells you, the guy who created the show is Lorne Michaels."

Thu, 10 Sep 2009 16:24:32 GMT

So I've been writing a lot lately, not to mention thinking about the stuff I still need to do for my grad school application, and decided to do a rather easy review today. This is one of my favorites.

Now, I am not a huge fan of Saturday Night Live, although it has made me laugh again and again (specifically anything Tina Fey has done, and sketches like "The Fast and the Bi-Curious"). But I am an unabashed fan of anything that includes gossip of famous people, and I ate this book up.

Told almost exclusively in interviews, we start at the very conception, when the all-powerful, all-knowing SNL producer Lorne Michaels conceived of a show based in New York, done live, of people making fun of the culture of the time. The book is divided into sections of five-year periods, all of which see major changes in format, casting, and - most importantly - producers. The golden years are when Belushi, Chevy Chase, and Dan Ackroyd first appeared; the dark period comes when Michaels steps down from producing and Jean Doumanian steps up, only to create a mess of things; the mid '80s see what I would refer to as the emergence of the original "frat pack": Adam Sandler, David Spade, and Chris Farley. The intriging thing is, we not only hear from the cast members (both famous and less well-known), but writers, directors, NBC executives, and hosts, making for a multi-layered look into the history of one of the most singular and popular shows in the past thirty years.

There are many reoccuring themes that a reader will pick up on: controversial hosts, fights between performers past and present, movies based on sketches that turn out to be flops, producers who don't know "funny" when they're looking at it, and women complaining (with good reason) that SNL is a "boy's club." The biggest theme? People who complain that the cast that came before was better and funnier. The second biggest theme? Chevy Chase is an ass. He leaves after the success of the first season, which Michaels et al say was his first mistake (the amazing John Belushi and the rest, conversely, stayed for about four years); when he returns years later to host, he is a holy terror to the new cast. Other, more successful hosts include Alec Baldwin, John Goodman, and Tom Hanks (Baldwin, while having a great respect for the process of writing and performing, makes a point of claiming he is the most frequent, and perhaps therefore best, host). We hear about the infamous Sinead O'Conner-ripping-up-the-Pope's-picture, a stand-up comedian with an offensive sense of humor whose hosting gig makes a non-famous female cast member quit in disgust, and how apparently Billy Crystal was ascloseasthis to hosting the show permanently.

The great surprise is the people behind the scenes - writers, execs, etc. - who create (through their own words) a personality that leaps off the page. I enjoyed Alan Zweibel, who begins as Woody Allen-lite, and turns out to be full of stories in which he is a passer-by. Dick Ebersol, producer in the '80s, comes off as a bottom-line kind of guy with no sense of humor. Of course, plenty of comedians are just plain funny, like Robin Williams, Jon Stewart, Ellen DeGeneres, and Seve Martin, among others. Harry Shearer is angry, Jane Curtain is brief, Chevy Chase is arrogant but honest, and many of the noughties cast members - Will Ferrell, Jimmy Fallon, Tina Fey, Chris Kattan - come off as the most modest. Chris Rock praises everyone he worked with on the show; everybody loved Chris Farley, and woe to him who didn't; Bill Murray is surprisingly articulate and introspective.

The book is best when it's following a controversy that spans a few weeks or even months. Belushi's biography, penned by Bob Woodard, gets lambasted by younger brother Jim, whose uses some choice ten- and twelve-letter words. The O'Conner debacle turns out to be not that black-and-white, and different interviews offer different perspectives. One of the most gripping passages is when Norm McDonald unintentionally pisses off an NBC exec for making fun of O.J. Simpson (a close friend); the excuses the exec makes for trying to get McDonald subsequently fired come off as pathetic and weak. Suffice it to say I have newfound respect for performers and writers (Jim Downey is a commanding presence, even in print) who stick to their guns.

A highly informative, thoughtful read. Fan or no fan, this is a great book. Rating: 5 of the best "Update" sketches out of 5.

I hereby confess: It was okay

Sun, 06 Sep 2009 19:25:43 GMT

Okay, another confession: this was one of the first books I saw that interested me in this reading campaign I now have going on.

I ordered the paperback off Amazon for literally $4.00, so I knew I wouldn't beat myself up too bad if it turned out to be a dud.

At Eli University (think Harvard and Yale with a dash of Hogwarts), there are a lot of smart, ambitious Type-A students. And there are a plethora of "secret" societies for them to join - that is, if they're asked. Even easy-going (by comparison) Amy expects to get tapped by one of the minor English major-centric ones. But the rug is pulled out from under her when she realizes that Rose & Grave, Eli U's oldest and most prestigious (read: powerful), wants her too. At first, she thinks it's a joke - after all, R & G doesn't allow women to join. But she, along with four other female up-and-comers, are accepted into the society, to the delight of Amy's big brother Malcolm (Lancelot) and the frustration of Poe, the know-it-all leader who is only known by his R & G nickname. Before they can celebrate, though, they learn that a lot of the older members don't like the fact that R & G is turning co-ed, and their threatening is enough to make Amy rethink her decision to join. Oh, yeah, and she's having guy trouble with her friends-with-bennies, cute geeky Brandon.

Amy isn't extremely remarkable, which is something that is discussed later in the book. She has a cynical side that I enjoyed a lot. I would've liked to spend more time with the other taps, whose nicknames hint at cool and interesting personalities. I was intrigued by the subplot between Amy and Clarissa, where the apparent Mean Girl suddenly befriends Amy, despite a small incident that happened between them a year or so ago. It brings up the question of whether Clarissa liked Amy for herself or just because they were both chosen to join the same club. Of all the inductees - a teen starlet who decides to pull a Natalie Portman and go to school, the hot son of a governor, the Bergdorf Blonde-esque Clarissa, among others - Amy feels she is the least qualified to be tapped for such a huge society, which creates some tension later. Actually, this book had a lot of tension: many times, Amy almost turns back from joining. I found myself kind of cheering her on, because to be honest, being a "Digger" didn't seem all that great to me, at least not with Poe as the Head Asshole (to be fair, Malcolm was sweet and likable). But it made it easy for me to get on her side. She has a great scene near the end where she defends the last person you'd expect.

The boring parts centered around her best friend and roommate, Lydia, and her drama with Brandon. I didn't want to hear about how her outside relationships were going south. The book says Lydia's her best friend, but hardly ever shows it; most of the time I forgot that she existed (she's also being tapped, by a different society, and cannot/refuses to talk about it, so we hardly hear a word out of her. Whatever). I really wanted to like Brandon, but something about how he treats Amy later didn't sit right with me. In my opinion, he makes her feel a lot more guilty than she deserved. Perhaps if Peterfreund had focused more on the Diggers and less on the "barbarians" (people who aren't Diggers), it would've been more satisfying.

Rating: 3.5 pins out of 5.

Going to Border's without a coupon kind of sucks

Fri, 04 Sep 2009 19:58:31 GMT

I just got back from an unexpected trip to Border's with my mother - who, even though she's the biggest reader in the family, rarely goes to brand-name bookstores. I got two books I just found out about a week or so ago: Confessions of a Jane Austen Addict and The Market. Once again, I was tempted to purchase The Luxe, and once again couldn't bring myself to do it. I saw most of the same books I saw on my last trip, so I decided to stop by the Popular Fiction section for some more grown-up selections. Should I have picked up Jane Eyre? War and Peace? 1984? I've been thinking lately that I should read up on more of the classics.

Right now, though, my booklist is expanding rapidly. On the advice of a dear friend, I got A Wrinkle in Time and its first sequel at Half-Price Books - as well as The Giver, Sweet 16 (already reviewed!), and You Are So Undead to Me (just when I thought I wouldn't be using my "zombies" tag anymore). She also urged me to buy Twilight - at around $3, a great deal - but I wasn't feeling it. (I've heard too much about it, reading it now would be overkill - no pun intended.) Plus I've already started on The Pillars of the Earth, a daunting but engrossing read, and I still have to finish Secret Society Girl.

I've been thinking a lot about what makes a good book ... good. I have always thought a huge indicator is that you keep wanting to come back to it throughout the months and years. For instance, just about every book in Terry Pratchett's Discworld series has this quality, because his writing is so sly and full of layers that even observant readers will discover something different on rereadings. The same goes for my Harry Potter books, especially the thicker ones. Jane Austen's novels also have this quality. I will also reread books that are funny, smart, or have memorable characters: Naomi and Ely's No-Kiss List, A Year at the Movies by ~~Tom Servo~~ Kevin Murphy, my collection of Fables comics, Fun Home, Scott Pilgrim's earlier volumes, and The Lost Memoirs of Jane Austen. These books make me laugh, make me think, and bring me comfort (a couple of these books are non-fiction, which strikes me as intriguing).

I offer this up because today I saw a book by Frank Portman and was close to picking it up. I finished his debut novel, King Dork, which is a great read - but I don't want to read it again. Would that mean I'd regret picking up this second book, especially if I happened to feel the same about it? There are some books that I haven't bothered to reread yet. I have no desire to pick up Kiss & Blog, The Juliet Club, Wicked (review not up), or Audrey, Wait! And you might notice that I gave Audrey a really good review. I have never reread the last two books of the His Dark Materials trilogy, as the ending left a bad feeling in my stomach. However, this is not the fault of Philip Pullman, who I know is a great writer. I suppose if the stories don't strike me as intriguing, original - or never go anywhere - it's a turn-off. Another reason could be that I'm once again buying books faster than I'm reading them, and so have less time for older books. Certainly a break from book-buying would be good news for my checking account.

Hopefully, I will start posting reviews of the non-fiction books I have, including a couple of biographies, a book on philosophy, and a much beloved collection of articles by a feminist writer.