Book Review of B, or If I Should Have A Daughter by Sarah Kay

It is so typically counterintuitive that a piece of spoken word poetry will translate well into the printed word form of a book that, although this has been my favorite poem for several years, it never occurred to me to look for it in print until about a year ago when our WiFi signal was down and I really wished I could experience this poem... right then. When it was working again, I was lucky enough to discover a beautiful little bound volume of B. It is perfect in its size, shape, and simplicity. Needless to say, I purchased it ASAP! I just realized I'd never posted a review, which means there might be several other Sarah Kay fans who aren't aware of this printed edition's existence, or poetry lovers who haven't heard of her at all, so I needed to rectify that immediately.

Sarah Kay is my favorite spoken word poet. We have some common ground, as her father is Jewish. Her mother is Japanese American. Kay's poetry is full of big dreams, small observations with startling truths, witty wordplay, and beautiful phrases. She is as sincere as she is stubborn and genuine. Kay's voice always feels fresh and original. She always has something interesting, useful, and entertaining to share.

B, or If I Should Have A Daughter explains Kay's parenting philosophy in depth. Every time I read or listen to this poem, I find myself thankful that she wrote and shared it, grateful that she's involved in the lives of so many kids, and hopeful that one day she will have a daughter, because if more parents thought this deeply and cared this much about what kind of job they'd do raising kids they hadn't even met yet, I believe the world would be a better place.

Here's a video of Kay performing the poem as a spoken word piece:

Reading B in print is an entirely different experience from watching the performance. There's a calmer, quieter energy. It feels a bit less playful, and more contemplative. It is less boisterous, less confident, and more tentative. Sophia Janowitz's illustrations bring B to life in a new way, adding subtle details and interpreting the text without distracting from it or taking over the experience of the poem.

Ultimately, I'm thrilled with the quality of this printed edition of B. I love having a copy of my favorite poem bound and on my bookshelf. I think this would make a wonderful gift for any woman about to have a daughter, and great reading for anyone who simply loves excellent poetry. Highly recommended.

Book Review of The Lost & Found by Katrina Leno

I borrowed The Lost & Found by Katrina Leno from the library because I loved Let's Get Lost by Adi Alsaid and Playlist for the Dead by Michelle Falkoff (the two authors whose blurbs were on the back cover). I find blurbs to be a very hit-or-miss way of finding new books I enjoy: just because an author whose work I like also liked a particular book, that doesn't necessarily mean I'll like it. Usually, I have to read 2-3 things recommended by a certain author before I can get a feel of whether or not that author's reading preferences mesh well with my own. There are authors whose writing I love, but whose reading recommendations I consistently don't enjoy, and there are authors whose writing I don't like, but who give great book recs. Unfortunately for me, if our opinions of The Lost & Found were any indication, my reading tastes don't match up with Michelle Falkoff's or Adi Alsaid's. I was mostly disappointed by this one. The cover, while quite appropriate to the story, was very meh.

Frannie and Louis meet on a web community for teens dealing with trauma. After years of exchanging messages with no identifying information included, each one suddenly and miraculously receives a letter leading him or her from opposite sides of the country to Austin, Texas, where they decide to meet face-to-face for the first time, bringing their respective best friends--cousin Arrow and sister Willa) along for the ride.

...which all sounds like it could be the making of a good YA novel, if a little too convenient with the double letters arriving at pretty much the same time plot device, but whatever. Leno used up most of my suspension of disbelief of random things happening just because they were convenient for the story with those two plot points aligning. So, when very poorly written elements of magical realism that feel like one deus ex machina after another swooping in to wrap up yet another loose end of the story keep happening, and that turns out to be the style in which Leno decided to write the entire book, well, I completely lost interest. I couldn't find the end of this one fast enough when I realized this messy nonsense was supposed to be the crux of the plot. 

However, for all of its faults, diversity is something Leno mostly did well in The Lost & Found. Louis and his twin sister Willa are half Indian. Willa is also a double amputee with two prosthetic legs, and I felt Leno's representation of her was sensitive and thoughtful. Willa's character was so much more than her disability or her challenges, and I really enjoyed how she didn't fit into the common tropes for disabled characters in YA. Louis has panic attacks and is dealing with a past of self harm--issues that are creeping back up for him over the course of the story. Frannie's cousin and bestie Arrow is Vietnamese and adopted. Frannie's mother is Schizophrenic, and Frannie wonders if she's genetically predisposed to the same fate, but this is the one area I had a problem with, because Frannie's mom wasn't written about with any sort of dignity or respect as a person with mental illness. (The words "crazy" and "insane" were used often in reference to Frannie's mother.)

Ultimately, I really don't recommend this book. Between the offensive ways Leno chooses to refer to a Schizophrenic character and some of the worst magical realism in YA I've ever read, I honestly don't understand how anyone could enjoy it. This is one of those stories where the execution in no way lives up to the premise. If you're looking for some fabulous YA magical realism with great diversity, try American Street by Ibi Zoboi--link here for my review--or The Walls Around Us by Nova Ren Suma--link here for my review.

Book Review of The Walls Around Us by Nova Ren Suma

This review was written in February 2015, right before The Walls Around Us was released the next month. I'm posting it here on the blog for the first time because I wanted to refer back to it in another review recommending YA magical realism with diversity, and also because it's an amazing book, and if any of you guys haven't heard about it, you might want to check it out! A bit of a reading update--since I wrote this review, I've read 3 other books by Nova Ren Suma, and some short stories. She has become one of my favorite authors--a must-read anytime her new works are published.

I have to be honest... when I got this ARC in the mail, I wasn't expecting much. I hadn't heard of the author before, and was only aware that this buzzy new YA book coming out in March was supposed to shake its readers to the very core. To me, the cover design was both loud and tacky. Also, it didn't translate into any kind of mood or theme to prepare me for what I was about to read.

...but then, I started reading. It was difficult to get into, at first. Part of my frustration was being unable to get a firm footing as far as the two settings of the book: a dance studio and its surrounding world, and a juvenile detention facility, both in modern day upstate New York. But pinpointing that, along with trying to untangle how the three narrators: Amber, Orianna, and Violet are related to each other took some work, and without having read any of Suma's other writing, or having a clear understanding of what this book set out to deliver, well, I wasn't sure if it was worth it or not.

All of a sudden, however, somewhere around 100 pages in, which is usually the point when the last few stragglers unsure of whether or not they want to be reading a book if they're waffling about it usually throw in the towel and decide to be done, that feeling dissolved. All I can say is, similar to the feeling Violet, a teenage ballet dancer, describes after she's done dancing and a hush falls over the audience and nobody is clamoring for the exits, I just sat there, probably for a good 20 minutes after I finished reading this book... simply being quiet and sad, moved, confused, and awed by the journey on which this author whom I hadn't fully trusted had taken me, despite my doubts. Her two other YA books (Imaginary Girls and 17 & Gone) didn't get added to my wishlist so much as flew onto it.

I don't want to say too much, because I don't want to ruin the mystique the book held for me, as I came to it from a place of almost completely no context, but I do want to do two things: urge anyone who likes YA to read it, and reassure those readers that, if they share the feelings I had, there are many valid reasons to push through until the 100 page mark, or so, and, that if you do, you won't even notice the next hundred plus pages as they whip by. 

This book has a profoundly moving story, beautiful imagery and symbolism, and gives a realistically graphic portrayal of life in a juvenile detention facility. There's much diversity, and it is done thoughtfully, in ways that add to the characters and the story. But, more than that, Suma opens up new worlds to her readers, who may not realize for quite some time exactly that they intertwine more than they collide.

The publisher has been describing it as "Orange Is The New Black Swan," and that totally fits. Highly recommended.

Glommable Glombox #1: A Review and Unboxing

I'm lucky enough to have won a Glombox from Glommable at Glommable.com, and it just arrived, so I thought I'd do an unboxing post. If you aren't familiar with the website (or the new box), they're both focused on the intersection of books and pop culture, with a mix of high-brow and low-brow, and all that's in between. The box felt like it was curated by Rory Gilmore and Mindy Lahiri. The card enclosed inside the top of the box explained both the website and the rationale for its contents pretty well, although it didn't adequately explain that this isn't actually a subscription box, but is instead a sweepstakes, of which there were 10 winners, but I dug around a little bit for that info. You can see the card nestled inside the box atop the turquoise tissue paper that concealed all of the other contents. I particularly love the humor and snark with which the card was written.

That's a pretty strange decision, and I wonder why Glommable won't be offering a subscription option for these, since I predict there will be a demand for them. Each of the prize boxes' contents was valued at $100 USD. Fortunately for you readers, though, most of these items are available for purchase at your favorite bookstore, so let's get to unpacking!

Once I opened the tissue paper, the first fun little trinket in the box was a card explaining Mabel, Glommable's mascot. Attached was an enamel pin featuring her charmingly strange little likeness, pictured below. You can see how all of the Glombox's contents are nestled atop colorful little blue paper shreds, which would've been charming and fun... except that they were a dark sky blue, and the tissue paper was a teal/turquoise color, so they actually clashed with each other. Also, I think Mabel is cute, but since I have absolutely no use for enamel pins whatsoever, I have no idea what I'm going to do with her. ...suggestions?

Once I moved the top layer of paper shreds aside, I discovered this glossy sheet of silly photobooth-style photos of Anna Kendrick wearing the outfit she wore on the cover of her recently published memoir, Scrappy Little Nobody. Stuck through the one square not featuring a photo of Kendrick is another enamel pin, this one decorated with the words 'scrappy little nobody'. Though I've truly enjoyed some of Kendrick's performances, I have actually already read Scrappy Little Nobody, and I can't say I cared for it much. In fact, I didn't post a review because I disliked it too much to finish the book. That's okay, though. Sometimes, a person who is a solid stage performer has talent or charisma that doesn't translate to the page, and I felt that was the case with Kendrick.

So, of course, the next item was a hardback copy of Scrappy Little Nobody by Anna Kendrick.

But, this one is autographed. I'm sure that, if I were a bigger fan of the book, or of Kendrick in general, there would've been some *squee*ing happening at this point.

Underneath that, There was a copy of Hyperbole and a Half by Allie Brosh. I love that book! In fact, I love it so much that I already own it.... I've followed the blog forever, and I really enjoy Allie Brosh's honesty about mental illness--the way she writes about her own struggles with Anxiety and Depression is both hilarious and somehow helpful to readers who might be dealing with similar issues. Also, I love that her lack of what traditional art scholars may call "talent" with drawing (aka, the people she draws look like the people I'm able to draw), doesn't hold her back from telling completely entertaining stories about her life. I wish, instead of including two extra items (the enamel pin and the photos) themed on Scrappy Little Nobody, Glommable had chosen to add some Hyperbole and a Half swag... as long as it wasn't yet another enamel pin!

However, I was thrilled to see that the next item was a copy of The Misadventures of Awkward Black Girl by Issa Rae, because this is actually on my TBR list! Also, as a diverse book blogger, I'm excited because it means I've got another #ownvoices title by a diverse author on my shelf. Expect a review sometime soon. (I had to put one of the other books back inside the box underneath it because those pesky little paper shreds kept obscuring the cover when I tried to take a picture and the book was sinking into them like a very small child in the ball pit at Chuck E. Cheese.)

The next title I unearthed was You're Never Weird On The Internet (almost) by Felicia Day. I don't have much of a frame of reference for this book--actually, it was the only item in the box that I wasn't familiar with in one way or another)--so I had a pretty neutral reaction when I pulled it out. A memoir with a bonus chapter included and a foreward by Joss Whedon piqued my interest, though, so this one has been added to my TBR to read and review. Have any of you guys read it? What are your thoughts?

Just when I thought I'd reached the bottom of the Glombox, I moved all of the blue paper shreds of doom (TM) aside to discover that there was one last surprise... a Pusheen coloring book!

This was a nice addition to the box because it was the only book-like thing included that had the sole purpose of frivolity, with no serious element at all. But, I found myself wishing that the Glombox curators had included a little Pusheen goody, like maybe a pen, or a sheet of stickers instead of the Kendrick photos or one of those tiresome enamel pins that also have no actual use.

Here's my favorite page from the coloring book:

(I actually saw some memo pads with this design on them on an endcap in the stationery section in B&N, but I couldn't afford them, so I had to drag myself away.) That makes me extra pumped that this coloring book, and this particular design, was included in the box. I'm thinking of framing this page and hanging it in my closet for a little inspiration when I'm getting dressed and I have trouble deciding how fancy to be. Now, here's a question for you: I have a Doctor's appointment tomorrow. Do you guys think the dress code is merely kind of fancy, or actually super fancy? I mean, do I need to be tracking down a unicorn before I show up there tomorrow?

Ultimately, I'm super grateful to have won a Glombox, and it definitely motivated me to check out Glommable.com, which is a website I'd heard about a time or two in passing previously, but wasn't on my radar much before. I have no idea why they aren't offering this as a subscription, unless the sweepstakes is merely a test run before they start a subscription service (which could be a smart way to do things). 

Overall, I enjoyed the contents of the box. They struck a good balance between high culture and low culture/serious and humorous. I would've enjoyed a more cohesive theme, and I would've liked if they stayed away from those seemingly purposeless enamel pins entirely. As someone who loves to send care packages, I was particularly taken with the size and shape of the box (it was a very attractive square-topped box with a lid that tucked into the front and folded upward from a hinged back). I felt the presentation could've been a little better--maybe fancier?--by simply attaching the explanation card to the inside of the box lid, choosing tissue paper and paper shred packing materials that matched or coordinated with each other, and maybe having one other decorative element within the packaging itself. I also would've liked to see a little more diversity amongst the authors whose works were included within the box. Since that is such a selling point, and a hot-button issue in both publishing and pop culture today, it surprises me that the Glommable curators would be so tone-deaf on this point. Still, this is their first crack at the whole Glombox thing, and there's always the next box!

Book Review of Goodbye Days by Jeff Zentner

Goodbye Days by Jeff Zentner is another one of the inaugural batch of YA titles recently added to the Blogging For Books program. So, when I read several blurbs likening it to Looking For Alaska (which I loved), I thought I must request a free copy of this book for the purpose of review. I haven't read Zentner's first novel, The Serpent King, but now that I've finished Goodbye Days, it definitely holds a place on my TBR list. Before I get into why Goodbye Days turned Zentner into a must-read author for me, can we talk about its artful cover design for a second? I love the simplicity of the color palette, the word bubbles' resemblance to a text convo, and the textured web debossed into the cover, meant to signify a shattered windshield. I don't think this cover could be more apropos for the story, or more pleasingly elegant in its simplicity.

Goodbye Days tells the story of Carver Briggs, the only remaining member of a friend group of four guys who jokingly called themselves The Sauce Crew. The book opens in the wake of the deaths of Mars, Eli, and Blake--Carver's friends who perished in a car crash when Mars took his eyes off of the road while behind the wheel to answer a text from Carver. While dealing with his own grief, loss, and guilt in the aftermath of the accident, Carver begins experiencing panic attacks, and the book chronicles his sessions with an amazing therapist.

Goodbye Days tackles a multitude of complex issues with aplomb. From wrestling with the question of who is at fault, both legally and morally, for the accident to addressing that oft uncomfortable verbal space between parents and their teenage sons and daughters, Zentner does not shy away from tough queries--even if he doesn't have answers for them at the ready. Goodbye Days prominently features issues of mental health in a way that is productive, empathetic, and realistic. It features a young female character who is Filipino and has Caucasian adoptive parents, empowering her to frequently call out comments and actions that may be sexist or racist in a way that is neither condemning of the speaker, nor allowing herself to become a doormat. It also highlights a dysfunctional father/son relationship between a high-achieving Black Judge and his son, the parameters of which have been set by the ultra-strict father, based upon his own personal struggles trying to get ahead in the world as a Black man. It features a gay character who dies closeted to a very loving relative because he worried that her religious beliefs wouldn't allow her to accept his identity, and it deals with this plotline with super sensitivity. It also chronicles severe child neglect and abuse, but somehow does not allow the book to get sidetracked by the disheartening images described.

All in all, I can see the reasons why people might compare Goodbye Days to Looking For Alaska, but I think comparison to any of Chris Crutcher's books would be more apt. Zentner's writing features the same emotional truth, appearance and clash of characters weighted down by eerily lifelike problems, and stark contrast of adults who couldn't be more helpful with those who couldn't be more harmful to the teen characters he introduces on the page. Just as with Crutcher's books, this is a winning combination--one that lends the power and verisimilitude that keep Goodbye Days from being preachy, overwrought, or smacking of condescension. Highly recommended for those who like YA that artfully balances humor with solemnity.

Book Review of Antisocial by Jillian Blake

Antisocial by Jillian Blake is another ARC I received from the First In Line VIP program of an upcoming YA release (May 16th), which, like One Of Us Is Lying, is a mystery/suspense story that prominently features misuse of technology in a high school setting. They also have similar covers--in this case, it is a single girl's face that's obscured. The girl is Anna, Antisocial's protagonist. Though I like the rainbow effect of the cover background, I can't decide which I find more distracting: the hashtag slashing through Anna's face, or the fact that the girl who is supposed to depict Anna (a character of Colombian descent, who is frequently compared to Sofia Vergara in appearance), but I can tell you which one upsets me.

While covering Anna's eyes is an artistic choice, misrepresenting her as a white girl is a racist one made by marketing department employees who decided a white girl would sell more books. This crap happens all the time in YA (and publishing in general). I can't say how Jillian Blake feels about this issue, but I can say that, if I'd gone to all of the trouble she did to include details about how guys think calling Anna South American while hitting on her will get them points, and how people who aren't Colombian seem to believe all people of Colombian descent look the same and then my publisher slapped a white girl on the front of my book instead of one who actually resembled my protagonist of Colombian descent, well, I'd be pissed.

By the way, The US cover is on the left, and the UK cover is on the right. I guess the marketing department thinks YA readers in the UK are less racist? I addition to the US cover being a diversity representation fail and yet another victim of whitewashing, the UK cover also depicts an actual plot point from the book, as well as conveying the mood of the story much more effectively than the US cover.

Anna is returning to school after Winter Break of her Senior Year--a break during which her longtime boyfriend dumped her without explanation. Suddenly, the social life she built around her dating relationship crumbles, and her Social Anxiety Disorder rears its ugly head. While Anna was busy trying to fit in with the ultra popular crowd where her boyfriend's buddies sat during lunch, she neglected and betrayed her actual friends. Upon her return to school, she finds herself boyfriendless, friendless, and drowning in a sea of anxiety-related symptoms. This isn't the best position to be in under normal circumstances, but then kids' phones start getting hacked around school, and their darkest secrets are revealed. The popular students (friends of Anna's ex) are the targets, and nobody can figure out who the hacker might be, because so many different kids stand to gain from unseating the popular kids from their thrones. Everyone has something to hide, and to lose... including Anna.

While Blake's representation of someone with Social Anxiety Disorder was solid, I found it super distracting that she constantly referred to it as SAD. I've always known SAD to stand for Seasonal Affective Disorder, so I kept having to stop and remind myself that isn't what Blake was talking about when the acronym appeared, which took me out of the story again and again. This is a small detail that made a big difference in my reading experience (for the negative). If Blake was looking for a shorter or less clunky way to refer to Anna's Social Anxiety Disorder, I wish she would've just said anxiety. Since Blake carefully described Anna's diagnosis and symptoms early on, I don't think using a general term like that would've taken away from the story like using SAD did. 

Speaking of Social Anxiety Disorder, Antisocial begins slowly, with an opening that feels like it was ripped out of one of those middle school speeches starting with a dictionary definition of a word. The whole first chapter felt like a backstory and information dump, making it difficult to get into the story and develop empathy for the characters or anticipation about the mystery plot. Unfortunately, the whole book failed to build the excitement it should have. As the story progressed, my interest decreased with every chapter. If I wasn't writing a review, I would've put the book down well before the halfway mark and not picked it back up. 

Since Antisocial deals with cell phones, hacking, and quite a bit of social media, there are lots of little excerpts and quoted sections from those sources. However, the way they're presented is frustrating an annoying, rather than creative and amusing, so I found myself wanting to skip them, even though I knew they could contain important clues as to the hacker's identity. Some of the characters (even the secondary characters) were well-written, but there were far too many to keep track of, and there were several kids (at the lunch table, for example), who didn't need to be named and described as if the reader was supposed to remember who they were, because they hardly factored in later, if at all. 

Ultimately, Antisocial suffers from a slow-to-develop plot that feels boring, clunky inclusion of social media, and a whitewashed cover. It had every opportunity to get me interested, and it fell flat each time. If you're looking for a new YA release with elements of mystery and suspense that involves lots of technology, check out One Of Us Is Lying. Antisocial is definitely one to skip.

Book Review of One Of Us Is Lying by Karen M. McManus

One Of Us Is Lying by Karen M. McManus is an ARC I received from the First In Line VIP program. I was excited to read it as soon as I heard the story compared to The Breakfast Club, Gossip Girl, and PLL. Though I'm not sure I agree with all of those comparisons--it certainly doesn't have the wit or self-awareness of Gossip Girl, or the level of highly-stylized suspense of PLL--I will say that there's plenty to recommend this intricately-plotted novel. ...perhaps nothing more than the fact that this line from the cover is completely true, "Pay close attention and you might solve this." I will say that I'd describe it as Death Joins The Breakfast Club. There were some points where the pacing lagged, and others where things didn't make sense because a question was asked in dialogue right after it was answered in action or narration. But, for all of McManus' shortfalls, she does engage in one of the most difficult things a mystery and suspense writer can achieve: she delivers 100% on the cover's promise of fair play while spinning a compelling yarn.

Speaking of the cover, while I like the general idea for the concept, I hate the (pardon the pun) execution of it. Bronwyn is supposed to be half Colombian, and she looks just like any other white girl with dark hair, which is a super frustrating example of yet again even more cover whitewashing in YA specifically (and publishing, in general). I wonder how McManus feels about such a design choice, considering all of the ultra-aware content she included in the book regarding Bronwyn's racial background and ignorant reactions of people she encounters. As an important sidenote, I was quite impressed with the way Bronwyn's character was written with regard to race. McManus dealt simply with issues of racism and ignorance, and used a light touch while still sending a strong message that these behaviors aren't okay.

Also, the book constantly refers to how perfect Addy's hair is, and its stringy, disheveled appearance bothers me here because it doesn't fit with that description. I think having the suspects' faces covered with notebook paper cutouts is more distracting than it is provocative or chilling (or whatever the cover design team was going for here). And I would've liked to see Simon's picture on the cover as well, especially since he was included in the list of five characters on the back.

The premise of One Of Us Is Lying is simple: five kids (Bronwyn the brain, Addy the beauty, Nate the criminal, Cooper the athlete, and Simon the outcast) are sent to detention after mysterious (and forbidden) burner cells are found in their backpacks during school. While in detention with a Luddite Science teacher who notoriously despises technology, Simon helps himself to a drink of water, and then drops dead. Because Simon maintains an app curating and disseminating the latest gossip about his fellow students, each of the other students has a motive for wanting him dead. The four other students quickly become suspects, and the rest of the book unfolds as they react to Simon's death, and to the investigation regarding who might have caused it, and why.

As regular readers of my blog will probably recall, I'm notorious for guessing the endings of books, and this was no exception. However, McManus did have me hedging my bets with two suspects for the first third of the story. Still, the fact that I was able to accurately guess who killed Simon means that McManus (for all of the plot twists and turns, and red herrings she included... and there were many), played fair, and I also doubt that the ending would be easy for other readers to predict.

Simon was found to have died from exposure to peanut oil, as he had a severe anaphylactic allergy to peanuts. As someone who has several anaphylactic allergies and has to carry EPI pens everywhere, I appreciated the realism with which McManus included details about this plot point. (So often, when authors include a plot point about a medical problem I share, I'm distracted because they got the details blatantly wrong!) For example, she accounted for the EPI pens in Simon's bag and in the Nurse's office. She also explained the type of peanut oil that would've had to have been in Simon's water, and how someone would know what kind to use. Obviously, though, since Simon's death is the inciting incident for the book, readers don't get to see much about his allergies from his perspective.

Speaking of perspective, one of the most interesting things about One Of Us Is Lying was the narrative style. The narration rotated amongst Bronwyn, Addy, Nate, and Cooper, giving readers four pleasingly unique perspectives on the story, and allowing for more clues to be dropped without being obvious or absurd.

One Of Us Is Lying by Karen M. McManus comes out May 30th, and is currently available for preorder. Though I recommend this book to those who love to read mysteries and play along in an attempt to solve them, I caution book buyers that this is a story they may only find enjoyable once, so borrowing it from the library may be a wiser choice than making a purchase in this case.

Book Review of 10 Things I Can See From Here by Carrie Mac

As a longtime participant of the Blogging for Books program and a YA enthusiast, I was thrilled when they announced that they'd be offering new YA titles. 10 Things I Can See From Here by Carrie Mac is the first such title of which I requested a free copy for the purposes of review. Though I've suffered from anxiety for several years, I've only recently been diagnosed with an Anxiety Disorder, and I chose this selection because the protagonist, Maeve, lives a life ruled by anxiety. I'd never heard of Carrie Mac, so I wanted to see how she dealt with the issue of Mental Health, and what her writing was like in general. I was curious despite the boring and highly off-putting cover design. I truly hate the cover.

Maeve is a sixteen-year-old Lesbian with divorced parents and a severe Anxiety Disorder. When her mom travels abroad for six months, Maeve lives with her dad, pregnant stepmom, and two younger stepbrothers. Her dad struggles with Alcoholism, and her stepmom couldn't be more opposite of the evil stepmother trope. As Maeve meets Salix, a violinist she's interested in and things heat up, they're also building as her stepmom's pregnancy progresses, Maeve's anxiety levels increase, she loses a friend in a very traumatic way, and her dad turns his live over to alcohol once more.

One of the most frustrating things about 10 Things I Can See From Here is that practically every character except Maeve is more well-developed and three dimensional than Maeve herself. Mac seems to confuse constant descriptions of and reminders about Maeve's Anxiety Disorder with character building for Maeve. Though Mac does a great job showing readers who may not be familiar with such things how anxiety and an anxiety attack might manifest, she does a lousy job showing readers who Maeve is, anxiety aside. Thus, the unfortunate underlying message in this book is simple: people with severe Anxiety Disorders are solely comprised of their illness. This is wrong. It is also insulting.

"But, Maeve likes to sketch," you might say. Sure, she does. she sketches as a coping mechanism to deal with her anxiety when she feels it coming on. She doesn't seem to sketch for fun, or out of a particular interest in art. "But, Maeve likes to recite statistics," you might say. Sure, she does, she recites statistics she has memorized about things she has anxiety about, so this is yet another "interest" that is really just connected with her disorder. "But, Maeve likes to make up fake obituaries in her head," you might say. Sure, she does, she makes up fake obituaries in her head because she's imagining the worst case scenario of what might happen if the thing she has anxiety about currently goes as wrong as it can go, and then compiles a fake obituary based upon that scenario for herself, or for someone else involved. So, does Maeve have any interests that are actually hers, and not based in her anxiety? Not according to Carrie Mac.

Another problem I had with 10 Things I Can See From Here can be summed up by the last sentence of jacket copy, talking about Maeve. "Will she be able to find focus through all the chaos to be there for the people she loves?"  In other words, Maeve doesn't deserve to be happy and mentally healthy of her own accord, or for her own well being--she should only strive to keep her Anxiety Disorder in check to fill the roles of daughter, stepdaughter, stepsister, friend, and girlfriend. That is a pretty damaging message to be sending YA readers of a book wherein the protagonist struggles with mental illness, especially about a teenage girl--a demographic who is already pressured by various parts of our society to say "yes" to social demands from every angle and adopt a people-pleasing personality that can be detrimental to mental well being.

Lastly, *spoiler alert* there's a scene very late in the book when Maeve confides in Salix that she was sexually assaulted. Maeve has attempted to maintain a penpal-type of relationship with the girl who sexually assaulted her, and her assailant has apologized to her for the assault. It is unclear if Mac is trying to say that Maeve's severe Anxiety Disorder is a result of her sexual assault, but the way it is dropped in, almost as if it is an afterthought, near the end of the book didn't work at all. There was no foreshadowing that prepared readers for the big reveal of this information. There is no helpful and clear unpacking of these issues during the denouement of the book. It is simply thrown out there, briefly discussed, and then swept back under the rug to get to the happy resolution of the story. As a reader, I find that to be a disturbing way to deal with sexual assault. As an adult reviewing a YA book, I wonder what the negative impact of this type of inclusion might be on teenagers who read 10 Things I Can See From Here. Carrie Mac basically chose to drop sexual assault in as a plot point and did it in the laziest way possible, writing-wise. Here's a link to an old blog article (but still a very relevant one) that explains more about why this is a problem.

In conclusion, I really don't recommend this book to anyone. I find its portrayal of Anxiety Disorders and its handling of sexual assault to be potentially damaging. I think the writing is lazy and the protagonist is shown as being no more than her disorder. To me, this book was a total fail.

Book Review of The Last Good Girl by Allison Leotta

I checked out The Last Good Girl by Allison Leotta from the library to read and review on the suggestion of a friend who knew I enjoyed books by Kimberly McCreight and noted their similarities. After finishing the book, I can definitely say it was an apt comparison. The book doesn't look like much, though. The cover is possibly the biggest letdown about the whole publication. Though it has imagery that makes sense with the story, the whole style is too soft and picturesque for the gruesome, gritty tale held within its pages.

Unfortunately, while this particular tale is based in fiction, readers need look no further than the nearest college campus for evidence that the themes Leotta included are all too relevant. Fraternity abuse of privilege, sexual assault on college campuses, policies that put assault victims on trial more than their attackers, Title IX enforcement that is lax or nonexistent, fundraising politics overshadowing ethical obligations, class disparities, and female students allowed to be intimidated when they attempt to speak out about their terrifying experiences are all factors of the modern college landscape.

Leotta addresses these issues deftly and with purpose in telling the story of Emily, a missing college Freshman who was last seen leaving a bar while pursued by Dylan, a fraternity brother from her campus whom she had accused of sexual assault. As the search for Emily (or, potentially, her body) escalates in the blighted Detroit area just outside of the verdant college campus where the alleged assault took place, the amount of impropriety, intimidation, and other abuses discovered in conjunction with the investigation is staggering. And, still, no Emily. 

One of the things I liked about this book, aside from the timeliness and the importance of the issues Leotta included, is that the plot kept me guessing. I didn't figure out the ending until there were mere chapters left to go--a feat for Leotta, considering that I find most suspense/thriller/mystery books frustrating in their predictability. 

I didn't much care for protagonist Anna Curtis, the prosecutor who is leading the search for Emily. I felt Leotta included an overwhelming and unneeded amount of detail about Curtis in an attempt to flesh out the book. I would've liked more scenes showing students reacting to Emily's vlogs once they went live, or other similar inclusions that would've added to the main plot of Emily's disappearance and other students' reactions to it, instead. I didn't find Anna to be a particularly empathetic character, and I got bored of reading about her struggle in choosing between the two men who are interested in her, and the two cities where she could live. If forced to read more about Anna at all, in order to unravel what happened to Emily, I would've liked to read more about Anna's relationship with her sister Jody, as I felt it meshed better with the look at sisterhood and female activism themes in the story, especially later when Jody became involved in the investigation.

All in all, The Last Good Girl was hit-or-miss for me. The suspense plot was riveting and relevant, but the protagonist was boring and eye roll-inducing. If the current issues and well-plotted mystery thread are enough to keep you reading, I'd recommend it, but if you require a protagonist you can really root for to lead such an investigation, The Last Good Girl by Alliston Leotta is one to skip.

Book Review of You Will Know Me by Megan Abbott

I put You Will Know Me by Megan Abbott on hold at the library after learning about it via Shelf Awareness. What I read about it in that newsletter made me wonder if it would turn out to be like Make It Or Break It-goes-to-the-dark-side. It was, and I was far from disappointed. The cover, however, is a different story. Also, the title left much to be desired, in my opinion. After truly enjoying the book, I'm baffled at the cover art and title choice, as they feel completely unrelated to the story.

You Will Know Me gives readers a look into a strange world, the secret machinations of which they'd never otherwise be privy to, and that world is US Elite Women's Gymnastics. That title may be a bit deceptive, because, by  the title of "women," you might think they're adults. Nope. The gymnast in question in this story is Olympic hopeful Devon and, though there are some plot inconsistencies regarding her age, she is purported to be 15. She spends at least 30 hours in the gym per week, and her parents have a second mortgage on their house just to fund her Olympic dreams. She does not go on dates, indulge in sleepovers, chill, hang out, have an after school job, or a hobby, or do anything else that most teenagers do. Devon lives her life in pursuit of one goal, and everything she does (and her family does, by extension), is in service of it.

Unlike many families wherein such single-mindedness on the verge of seeming insanity is at play, it is Devon--not her parents--who has chosen this life for herself, and whose drive pushes them all forward. From the other girls at the gym to her coach, from her parents to her little brother, to the other gym parents, everyone in Devon's orbit operates to serve the goal of Devon competing in the Olympics. That, in and of itself, is both awe and horror-inducing... but then, when Abbott forces readers to confront the question of what those within Devon's insular world would do to protect and ensure that Olympic dream, a whole other level of horror sets in.

Abbott has selected Devon's mother, Katie, as the protagonist of the story. After finishing the book, I'm not so sure this was the best choice. I would've much preferred to hear the story unfold as from Devon's younger brother Drew's perspective. I think that would have both underscored the level of terror and also balanced the question of reality vs. hallucination/fantasy/nightmare nicely, as adults frequently disbelieve Drew throughout the story about things he has observed.

Devon's foot was disfigured in a truly disturbing accident involving a lawnmower when she was just a toddler. Not only does this give the otherwise impervious Devon a compelling weakness (both physically and emotionally), but it also adds an interesting twist to the story that a gymnast competing at the highest level doesn't look completely like the airbrushed/flawless young women we're used to seeing on the vault and beam. Also, her foot is an interesting litmus test for readers as to the true personalities of some of the other characters: seeing how certain people react to her foot's altered appearance all these years after it has healed shows us more about the character doing the reacting than it does about Devon, herself. And its inclusion in a story about a girl who seems superhuman is interesting, too, as most people would think of such a disfigurement as a disability.

Sadly, I was able to predict the real outcome of the main plot from not far at all into the book. I really wish Abbott had added more plot twists so that I would've at least had to work for it a bit. But, that predictability didn't stop me from paging forward with a horror-filled expression on my face as I watched events unfold just as I had feared. Even knowing what was going to happen didn't make Devon's world any less strange or interesting. If an overly predictable version of Make It Or Break It gone suspense thriller is your jam, I recommend You Will Know Me by Megan Abbott.