In My Mailbox 27

Dear Blog,

In My Mailbox is hosted by Kristi over at The Story Siren.

So, it's the summer holidays, and therefore I have no extracurricular activities and next to no schoolwork.  Which means two things: 1) hooray!  and 2) I have more time than usual to devote to reading. Therefore when I was in the huge library in the centre of town the other day, I took out a lot of books. They'll keep me busy for a little while.

GIFT

The Fountainhead by Ayn Rand (currently reading)

FROM THE LIBRARY

Selected Poems by e. e. cummings

Thirteen Reasons Why by Jay Asher

The Wish House by Celia Rees

The Awakening and Selected Stories by Kate Chopin

Purple Hibiscus by Chimanda Ngozi Adichie

Lies by Michael Grant

BOUGHT

Les Misérables by Victor Hugo (*excited squeal*)

 So, there you go.  Did you get any interesting books this week?

That's all. Over and out.

How to Make a Packet of Minstrels Last the Length of a Novel

Dear blog,
Now for something completely different.
 To explain: The other day I was reading a list put together by the food company Innocent about how to make a bowl of popcorn last the whole length of a film.I was thinking about this, and how similar it is to those times you sit down with a novel and a packet of minstrels*, but then have devoured them all by the time you’re at page 50. 
I am going to remedy this for you, readers.  Here's a guideline; depending on what you're reading, certain events should indicate how many Minstrels you should eat and when.
Note: some packets of Minstrels are quite small.  Some novels are like 400 pages.  This is why I'm referring to the packets of Minstrels that you can get at the cinema, which are a little bigger.
Another note: Eating a packet of cinema-sized minstrels in one go is discouraged.  It will probably make you feel sick and therefore ruin the whole experience.  It takes me a few days to read most books, so this is a sufficient time to eat a packet of minstrels.
Anyway.

If I Stay- eat two every time the word “cello”, “guitar” or “band” comes up.

The Princess and the Captain- Eat two every time you wish Orpheus was real.

Forbidden- Save all the minstrels for the end, and then devour them all to comfort yourself.

This is All- Eat three every time you feel enlightened, learn something new or have gained new insight into something.

Looking for Alaska- three every time Alaska is drunk or two every time there’s a gorgeous profound quietly beautiful quote.

Becoming Bindy Mackenzie- have two every time you’re all, “Pure genius. Jaclyn Moriarty is one.”

The Broken Bridge- Eat three every time you’re like, “Why does Phillip Pullman need to write those sweeping epic trilogies when, fantastic as they are, he can write such an engaging, refreshing but simplistic YA book about a sixteen-year-old girl?”

Tokyo- Eat one every time the writing style, which tries so hard, too hard, to sound like the POV of an eighteen-year-old boy, makes you cringe.

Anything by Haruki Murakami- two minstrels every time you fangirl squee.

The Hunger Games or Catching Fire- Four every time someone dies or is brutally beaten.

Notre-Dame de Paris (okay it's not really a YA book, but I feel like it deserves a mention as one of my favourite books of all time)- Read the book first, saving all the minstrels until the end. When you’re done, melt them, pour them between the pages and then eat the book.

Anthem (again, not a YA book, but.) - Two every time there’s some mention of “self”, “identity”, or “ego”.

Twilight- two every time Edward says something along the lines of “But Bella, it’s not safe for us to be together!” or half a minstrel every time Bella describes his porcelain skin, smouldering eyes and the like.

Crank or Glass- Two every time Kristina/Bree smokes or abuses some sort of illegal substance.

Eunoia (again, not YA, but every poetry lover should read it)- three every time you’re like “Dayum, Christian Bök has a way with words.”

any of the Ichigo Mashimaro volumes- one every time you laugh, snort, or fall out of your chair in a fit of giggles.

*or Maltesers, crisps, smarties, a bar of chocolate or some of those Tesco mini brownies. 

In My Mailbox 24

Dear blog,
IMM is hosted, as ever, by Kristi over at The Story Siren.
This week I got way more books than I actually needed to, because I own so many books that I haven't  actually read yet.  I really need to stop going to the library until I've gotten through some of them.

BOUGHT

Collected Poems by John Betjeman

An anthology of Yeats poetry that doesn't actually have a title...

FROM THE LIBRARY

Molloy by Samuel Beckett

Tokyo by Graham Marks

After Dark by Haruki Murakami (read.  *fangirl flail*) 

Under a Glass Bell by Anaïs Nin  (read. Really interesting, if not slightly pretentious)

So, there you go. How was your bookish wek?

Top Ten novels of 2010.

Dear blog,
Seeing as every other blog seems to be making such lists at the moment, I feel like I'd better make one too. Besides, it would be a good way to round up some of my favourite books that have been released this year.
Note: These are all UK release dates. 

FORBIDDEN by Tabitha Suzuma
Is a book that I haven't stopped thinking about ever since I read it.  Nothing I could say could do it any justice, so, in three words: Heartbreaking, thought-provoking, devastating.

BEFORE I FALL by Lauren Oliver
Has been one of the most  highly-praised debuts so it seems, at least that's the impression that the rest of the blogosphere gives. And it was certainly no disappointment.  Lauren Oliver's ability to make a single day and the simple rhythm of everyday life seem like the truly extraordinary thing that we all forget it is.   In three words:  thought-provoking, unique, and heartbreaking.

THREE RIVERS RISING by Jame Richards
Another book that I could sing the praises of for a very long time.  Historical fiction. Verse novel. Multiple narrative.  What else do I need in a book? (Clue: nothing)  I shall stalk Jame Richards eagerly for any other novels she may write.   In three words: poetic, heart-wrenching, fascinating.

DIRTY LITTLE SECRETS by C. J Omololu
Probably one of my favourite debuts of the year (of the ones I've read that is. By the end of this month I'd bought probably enough debuts to finish the 2010 Debut Author Challenge, but didn't have enough time to read them).  Anyway, I've mentioned this in several lists over the past few days, and with reason. So rarely is a disorder like compulsive hoarding touched upon in YA fiction. In three words, it's: Shocking, unique, powerful.

HEX HALL by Rachel Hawkins
Imagine that Harry Potter and Fallen have a baby. Insert a more likeable protagonist, a lot of hilarious one-liners and get rid of the Boy Who Lived and a love triangle, and you have one heck of a book.  The title?  Hex Hall. Despite all the numerous influences from other contemporary novels, it was a breath of fresh air amongst other paranormal boarding school novels. In three words: Clever, Refreshing, Humorous. 

THE CARBON DIARIES: 2017 by Saci Lloyd
The sequel to The Carbon Diaries 2015. It didn't seem quite as direct as its predecessor in the effects of global warming, so much as the long-term effects and the way that nations and governments run themselves in such a nightmarish turn of events.  It lacked a certain something that 2015 had, but however it did have a road-trip across a Europe in crisis.  In three words: chilling, alarming, needed.

MONSTERS OF MEN by Patrick Ness
Chaos Walking finale.  I needn't say more, but I will, because it totally blew me away.  It made me laugh, it made me cry, it made me want to throw it at the wall and scream "No, that can't happen!" and it made me want to buy a copy for all my friends.   And the ending.  Whooooah, is all I'll say. I haven't read such a satisfying finale to a trilogy in a very long time.    In three words: Heart wrenching, heartbreaking, heartwarming.

LIES by Michael Grant
Mysteriously I haven't actually reviewed this, but I really should at some point.  Well, I read it a couple of months ago, and it's as surreal, unique and nightmarish as the front cover (Drake!).  In three words: Frightening, thrilling, action-packed.

THE SKY IS EVERYWHERE by Jandy Nelson
I read this only about a week or so ago (Again I need to review this one, but I haven't had time).  It was so heartbreakingly touching, I have to include it. Now and again I found myself wondering if it brought anything new to the table, but I fell in love with it anyway, and I think that it did. Especially all the music and the little notes and poems scattered about at the beginning and endings of the chapters, like little tiny portraits of Lennie's life. In three words: touching, romantic, worthy (of all the hype) (okay, that's seven words...but anyway)

BOYS DON'T CRY by Malorie Blackman

I really, really have to review this at some point, because it's fantastic. Malorie Blackman is to my mind one of the best contemporary British authors, and Boys Don't Cry never fails to disappoint.  There's never enough fiction with male protagonists, never enough about teenage parenthood.  (Especially not from the father's point of view.  In three words: real, satisfying, truthful.

Well, that's all from me for 2010. Has it been a good year for YA lit? I think so.

Review: Three Rivers Rising

Dear Blog,

2010 Debut Author Challenge novel #3.  I had better get reading if I want to complete the challenge, which I do. 
Another short review- Is there such a thing as reviewers block?  If so, I think I might have it. But I'm reviewing Three Rivers Rising because it's a wonderful book, anyway, and I need to say why.
 

Summary (from Goodreads): Sixteen-year-old Celestia is a wealthy member of the South Fork Fishing and Hunting Club, where she meets and falls in love with Peter, a hired hand who lives in the valley below, and by the time of the torrential rains that lead to the disastrous Johnstown flood of 1889, she has been disowned by her family and is staying with him in Johnstown. Includes an author’s note and historical timeline.

Review: Historical fiction, verse novels and dual narratives all make me very happy.  Put them together and you have the work of art that is Three Rivers Rising.  What more could I ask for?!  But for all my interest in American history, I'd never heard anything about the Johnstown Flood.  Maybe I've missed out on what's considered to be a huge tragedy over in the States, and I'm just ignorant.  Either way, now I've read about it, it was pretty fascinating.  And of course the idea for a story based around such a devastating event was fantastic. 

This book alternates between the points of view of Celestia, Peter, Maura, a girl not much older than Celestia but already married with three young children, Kate, a young window-turned-medical student, and, briefly, Celestia's father. At first when Maura and Kate came into the story I was slightly confused about what their place was in both the universe and the novel.  Their place in the universe still remains to me much of a mystery, but their place in the novel is to give it extra dimensions, points of view and adding extra dimensions and meaning.  I think Three Rivers Rising would have been more of a hopelessly romantic yet poetically tragic love story  if it hadn't had those other elements to it. It is a hopelessly romantic yet poetically tragic love story anyway, I suppose, but these extra voices give it more depth.  For instance, the brief glimpse into the mind of Whitcomb, Celestia's dad, makes him seem like much more of a complex character, and more of a person than a rich businessman.  He is, I suppose, the closest thing that the book has to a villain. 

For all these many voices, Jame Richards still manages to make each voice unique,  and give each person a story to tell.  They're all three-dimensional.
It's hard to say that Celestia was a likeable main character, mainly because all the other characters are so well-rounded and have you rooting for them, it's hard to call her a "main character" (even though she is really).  Anyway, she was brave and true to herself, even though admittedly she does suffer a little from Rebellious Princess Syndrome,  it's not in such an obvious sort of way  à la the girls of Spence Academy in the Gemma Doyle trilogy. 

I suppose the one thing I wasn't too keen on was how rushed the opening of the book was.  It's strange- the reader seemed slightly thrown in at the deep end in that Peter and Celestia were already having secret meetings and kissing by page seventeen.  However, on the other hand, the book opens the summer before the flood, allowing Peter and Celestia to get to know each other and such before the flood.

And the flood itself. Especially towards the end of the book, Three Rivers Rising was devastating and utterly heart-wrenching.  I thought it was particularly effective how the day of the flood, as well as stating the location and which character is narrating, the time of day, so the reader can observe the events unfolding from the failure of the dam to the destruction of Johnstown.
For all the novels-in-verse I devour, it's rare that I come across historical fiction written in verse format,  so this made me happy.  And it was particularly wonderful poetry, which seemed to flow, almost, like a river.

In Three Words: poetic, heart-wrenching, fascinating. 

reccomended for: everyone.  Especially those who've never heard of the Johnstown Flood.

Rating: 5. 

Review: What My Mother Doesn't Know

Dear Blog,

Sorry this review is one of my shortest ever, but I'm pretty busy this week.

Summary (from Goodreads):
My name is Sophie.

This book is about me.
It tells
the heart-stoppingly riveting story
of my first love.
And also of my second.
And, okay, my third love too.
It's not that I'm boy crazy.
It's just that even though
I'm almost fifteen
it's like
my mind
and my body
and my heart
just don't seem to be able to agree
on anything.

Review: I am a fan of two things; verse novels, and Sonya Sones.  And the reason I like Sonya Sones is because she writes verse novels.  I read her novel Stop Pretending  a few months ago (review here), and have since been meaning to seek out more of her work.
What  my Mother Doesn't Know is much more joyful and light-hearted.  The narration is noisy and happy in the same way that Stop Pretending seems distant and quiet, if that makes any sense, though there are some moments of seriousness as Sophie contemplates life, love and the world around her.

Speaking of Sophie.  She was completely boy crazy but instantly likeable anyway.   Probably, as nostalgic adults say, she was "in love with love" more than her boyfriends themselves, of which there are three.  There's Dylan, who seems nice enough at first but then just tapers off in typical teenage-love fashion, Chaz, an internet stalker, and Murphy, the class geek.  For a long time, although Sophie tells her friends she has a boyfriend, she doesn't actually confess it's Murphy for as long as possible.  But they were so cute together anyway.  Sophie herself was frighteningly realistic, complete with flaws and angry emotions and everything else that makes a character complete.  

The writing style is good in that it isn't just poetry that's been through a shredder.  Sophie has a voice, a certain way of talking.  Quite often it seems that poetry is poetry, and the narrator loses his/her voice in the attempt to make the poetry sound like  more than prose that's been through a shredder. And while it's told in a typical free-verse form, instead of experimenting with different shapes and forms  à la Lisa Schroeder or Ellen Hopkins, the choice of words and so on seems quite unique.

What My Mother Doesn't Know interestingly features on the ALA list of Most commonly challenged books in the United States in 2004 and 2005.  Having read up a little more about it, it's due to two things, 1 being, poems like It's That Time of the Month Again, which speaks for itself, and Ice Capades. The second reason is it being mismarketed and appearing in elementary school libraries, aimed at 11 and 12-ear-olds and so on. I suppose parents dislike the idea of their little darlings reading about the truth. Forgive me for being frank, but the truth is truth and  whether people like it or not we young people find reality interesting.  It seems a little unfair that due to the faults of various publicity departments and whatnot it should be so challenged everywhere.
Enough with my speech.  On to the summary.

In Three Words: Funny, realistic, rude, truthful.  Oops, that's four. 
Recommended for:
Rating: 4
 

Review: True Believer

Dear Blog,
I finished True Believer this afternoon.  Hence, I have a review-

Summary (from Goodreads): At 15, LaVaughn already knows that life is hard and that getting ahead takes a strong mind and an even stronger will. Surrounded by poverty and violence, she strives every day not to be just another inner-city statistic: "My hope is strong like an athlete. Every morning when we walk through the metal detectors to get into school ... it is an important day of dues-paying so I can go to college and be out of here." Last year when she babysat for Jolly, a young unwed mother, she saw firsthand how an unplanned pregnancy can diminish options. So she ignores the boys, studies hard, and hopes it will all be enough to get her into college. Then Jody moves back into the neighborhood. Once LaVaughn's childhood friend, Jody is now "suddenly beautiful... He could be in movies the way the parts of his face go together." If LaVaughn's choices were difficult before Jody, now they're almost impossible. What LaVaughn doesn't know is that Jody has difficult decisions of his own to make--decisions that could turn her carefully ordered world upside down.

Review: a couple of weeks ago I read and loved Make Lemonade (review here).  I found a copy of True Believer at a library a few miles away from my house and, as I do when I see books I’ve been wanting for a while with more enthusiasm than usual, grabbed it and rushed to take it out as if somebody was going to steal it while I held it.

The story picks up from where Make Lemonade left off: Jolly has moved on, going to school with extra funding to help her support Jilly and Jeremy, and LaVaughn is studying hard and taking extra classes to help her achieve her dream of going to college. In this second book of the trilogy, LaVaughn is slightly older and her world is slightly bigger; she’s contemplating life, religion, sex, heaven, hell, her place in the universe, the future, her relationship with her mother and LaVaughn’s reactions to her having a boyfriend, who she feels is replacing her dad, and LaVaughn’s own first love. All in all, she has a lot to deal with and to think about.

And Virginia Euwer Wolff writes about it excellently. LaVaughn’s voice is so clear throughout the book, it’s like she’s talking directly to the reader and confiding in them, after her own best friends Annie and Myrtle reject her. And you find yourself rooting for her. LaVaughn is in turn serious, entertaining, hardworking, and hopelessly romantic. Above all, despite everything, she has faith in herself. To quote from both part of a poem and the title of the book, she is a true believer. Her confidence and self-belief is kind of inspiring. But maybe that’s just me, being the insecure and fretful little thing that I am.

I’m not sure what I think of the romance between LaVaughn and Jody. On one hand, the conclusion to what was going on between them was slightly disappointing, but on the other it was sweet and utterly delightful. Some people would argue that nothing much really happens between them. I beg to differ. The moments where they’re together -at the dance, when Jody is practicing his lifeguard skills and LaVaughn pretends to drown for him, at the party- are just so sweet. And true, too- LaVaughn’s first experiences with love are full of ups and downs in turn.

I’ve read more free-verse novels in the last few months than I can count. When I read them I always have a good think about the writing style. What happens is nice enough, but sometimes the “poetry” just sounds like prose that’s been through a shredder. The way LaVaughn talks make it seem more like verse than *poetry*, à la Ellen Hopkins, but there are moments when the poetry just shines through in a “ta-da!” sort of way. The realistic dialogue makes the moments of true poetry really stand out.

In three words: beats the predecessor.
Recommended for: everybody who wants to know what happens to LaVaughn next.
Rating: 5. Even better than Make Lemonade.

Review: Make Lemonade by Virginia Euwer Wolff

Dear Blog,
before I start, I better give an explanation for why I didn't do a Foreign Language Friday post on Friday.  The answer is, I couldn't get through the book I was going to read for it last week, a.k.a Perfume by Süskind, and I realised it was better to not review it at all than just half of the book, a.k.a all that I read of it.  If that is a feeble enough excuse, then I hope you forgive me.  I have a couple of Jostein Gaarders on my shelf I need to read, so hopefully I'll enjoy one of those a little more.
Anyway.  Onwards and upwards, as they say.


Summary (from Goodreads): LaVaughn needed a part-time job, something she could do after school to help earn money for college. Jolly needed a babysitter, someone she could trust with two kids while she worked the evening shift.
It didn't matter that LaVaughn was fourteen, only three years younger than Jolly. It didn't matter that Jolly didn't have a husband or a mom and dad, because LaVaughn gives Jolly and her two babies more love and understanding than should be possible for a fourteen-year-old, because if she doesn't no one else will.


Review: You don't know how long I've waited to read this book, a.k.a a very long time.  I first saw it while scouring Goodreads for good verse novels and the cover, which is to be frank absolutely awesome and one of my favourite book covers of all time, caught my eye.  Anyway, when I found a copy in the darkest corner of my local library I checked it out and was out the door before you can say "lemonade".  Anyway, now that I've read it, how glad I am that I did!

The novel is told in spare free-verse poetry, complete with grammatical and spelling errors, as if LaVaughn is talking directly to you.  Speaking of which, how are you supposed to pronounce that name? La-Vawn? La-Von? Either way, she was to my mind the true hero of the story; determined, hardworking, funny, caring, and just so ordinary.  The aforementioned writing style including spelling errors that imitate somebody actually talking seemed to make her seem all the more realistic. Also, it made me happy that she started to correct her "ain't"s and "don't got"s and such by the end of the book.  What's not to like about her?  She tries hard to break the cycle of poverty, go to college and leave where she and her mother have lived in the inner city.  Speaking of which, it's a very gritty book, but not unpleasant; it's strangely light-hearted, and the end of the book is hopeful.

However, I wasn't sure at first what to make of Jolly, the teenage mother whose two kids LaVaughn babysits. In some respects, she was caring, determined and such, but now and again I wanted to shake her and exclaim, "come on, Jolly, pull yourself together!" In that respect I guess I'm much like LaVaughn's mother, who even though seemed kind of strict, just wanted the best for her daughter. Anyway, I know it must have been really hard for her, but her lack of doing anything, i.e when her boss sexually harasses her and then fires her, going back to school, and so  on.  Thankfully, LaVaughn's determination helped her get back on her feet and by the end of the book, they were both, as the title suggests, making lemonade.  All I can say is to quote from the title of a review on Amazon which is titled "make me more lemonade!"  I don't even like lemonade.  Well, Make Lemonade makes me like lemonade, even though I can't stand to drink it, if that makes any sense.   

One thing that got on my nerves slightly was the lack of description.  I know that this is is told in a stream-of-consciousness sort of way, but I had no idea of what any of the characters looked like, and when LaVaughn first met Jolly, Jeremy and Jilly, it seemed very sudden and seemed to sort of throw the reader into the deep end.  Which was strange, because even though it's only 170 pages or so, by the end of it I felt like the characters were my best friends, even though I didn't have the faintest idea of what any of them looked like.

It's a pretty easy read, easily devoured in one sitting, but along the way there are such tender and powerful moments that make you sort of do a double take and go back  to re-read the last sentence/poem/page/whatever.  In that respect it reminds me of Jinx by Margaret Wild- don't let the simplicity fool you.  As soon as you finish, you want to a) read it all cover to cover again, and b) order the next two books in the trilogy, True Believer and This Full House, off Amazon and to read them with the same enthusiasm as well. 

In three words: hopeful, powerful, and moving. 

Recommended for: teenagers everywhere and anywhere.
Rating: 4.5

Review: A Bad Boy Can Be Good for a Girl by Tanya Lee Stone

Dear Blog,

Today my victim is A Bad Boy Can Be Good for a Girl by Tanya Lee Stone. 


Summary (from Goodreads):  Josie, Nicolette, and Aviva all get mixed up with a senior boy, a cool, slick, sexy boy who can talk them into doing almost anything he wants. In a blur of high school hormones and personal doubt, each girl struggles with how much to give up and what ultimately to keep for herself. How do girls handle themselves? How much can a boy get away with? And in the end, who comes out on top? A bad boy may always be a bad boy. But this bad boy is about to meet three girls who won't back down.

Review:  As you may or may not know, saying I think novels in verse are cool is the understatement of the century.  Particularly recently, I've been devouring more of them than I can count.  I've been working my way through the verse-novel section of Sonya Sones' list of great books and novels-in-verse.   Anyway, this turned up at my local library and I borrowed it.

The story alternates points of view between three high school girls; Josie, a confident freshman, Nicolette, a junior who sees love as a power game of sorts, and Aviva, a senior whose head is full of music.   I don't know why but it seemed kind of hard to get inside their heads, and see who they really were.    All the reader really hears about is their encounter with the anonymous Bad Boy, so, well, apart from that, you're still sort of left wondering: who are these people?  This was probably why Aviva was my favourite character; I got the best picture of her.  We found out about her parents.  She had favourite songs, we knew about her parents, etc. etc. So she was really likeable.  I thought Nicolette was quite...what's the word? compelling, interesting.   And  I think I liked Josie the least- I wasn't really too keen on her from the opening lines of the book: "I'm not stuck up/I'm confident/there's a big difference".  No matter what the difference may be, I still found her hard to like.  But good on her for spreading the word about the Bad Boy (I found it strangely ironic that she wrote the message about him inside Forever by Judy Blume, considering the title and all).


However likeable they may be, it's hard to not be annoyed slightly with the characters during their encounters with the un-named Bad Boy.  You can't help but ask yourself, "What do they see in him?!"  Such is the madness of love, I guess.  But still, why?  I was particularly irritated when Nicolette (I think it was Nicolette) overheard some of the Bad Boy's friends talking about her in a mean sort of way.


A Bad Boy is a very quick read.  It's 200 odd pages and a novel in verse, but I'm sure that it didn't take me about twenty minutes (okay, maybe I'm exaggerating a little) to read other verse books of the same size like Jinx or some such novel.  Perhaps it just feels like it takes quicker to read because, well, it's a very easy read: fast-paced, funny, thoughtful, and realistic, and took very little brain work to read.  Whereas  the aforementioned Jinx (which was the first book I ever reviewed on my blog) was a slightly tough read in places, deep and heart-breaking and heartwarming and all sorts of other things that make it one of my favourite novels ever.  Anyway, in that respect A Bad Boy is a quick, fun  read to cheer you up without being overly shallow and frothy.


So, well, it's realistic and the characters are easy to relate to.  But remember, dear blog, it's a novel in verse, so I must say a few words about the poetical-ness.   I think it's the sort of book you'd give to teenagers who hadn't encountered many verse novels before to get them into devouring more.  The writing is simplistic and straight-forward, with not much poetical-ness or anything; it just sort of sucks you in.
One thing: I don't know if you've noticed that on the UK cover (the one shown), the girl on the front looks slightly pregnant.  Or is that just me?  Strangely, although some sex is had, nobody gets pregnant.  However, her hair looks nice.  I much prefer the UK cover to one of the US editions, on which a boy and a girl are practically eating each other. I don't like it when I  can see models on the front of books because it sort of destroys how I think they'll look.  Especially not...erm...that close up. 


Summary: (I noticed that I call the Goodreads description the summary, and I call this the summary too.  Maybe I ought to go back to calling it the "Rating and such" like I did in my first few entries): Though it won't take you very long, A Bad Boy is a quick, fun piece of escapism. Rating: 3.

Foreign Language Friday: On Love and Barley- Haiku of Basho

Dear Blog,

Since today I am

reviewing a book of Basho's
haiku poetry,


I shall write all that
I can in the haiku form.
Fun, but kind of hard.

Name: On Love and Barley- Haiku of Basho

Written by: Matsuo Kinsaku (later known as Matsuo Basho)

Originally Published in: Japanese

Translated by: various people down the centuries, but this edition was done by Lucien Stryk

Summary (from Goodreads): Basho, one of the greatest of Japanese poets and the master of haiku, was also a Buddhist monk and a life-long traveller. His poems combine 'karumi', or lightness of touch, with the Zen ideal of oneness with creation. Each poem evokes the natural world - the cherry blossom, the leaping frog, the summer moon or the winter snow - suggesting the smallness of human life in comparison to the vastness and drama of nature. Basho himself enjoyed solitude and a life free from possessions, and his haiku are the work of an observant eye and a meditative mind, uncluttered by materialism and alive to the beauty of the world around him.

Review: You may or may not

know that I love haiku-  I

write some myself now

and again.  But I

feel kind of depressed when I

think about how mine

pale compared to the

beauty and simplicity

of Basho's poems.

Basho is the sort of

inspirational person
I wish I could meet.


And why do I like

them so much?  Well, Basho is

master of haiku.

He revived the form-

brought new life to the rules and

strictness of Haiku. 

He often broke

the form

throwing away rules

syllables-

drifting here

and there.

His poems seem both

disconnected and

full of nature, real;

minimalism

of Zen Buddhism echoes

through his work; calm and

uncluttered with the

everyday chaos of

normality and

such.  Like you can see

the flower's petals unfold
slowly but surely,


for example.  And
so Basho observes it with
curiosity.


I guess I better

give a few examples of

Basho's haiku.  So:

Together let's eat

shears of wheat

share a grass pillow

Old pond,

leap-splash

a frog.

Come, see real

flowers

of this painful world.

No hat, and cold

rain falling-

well!

Wake, butterfly-

it's late, we've miles

to go together.

Summary: Basho is a truly, truly brilliant poet and although it only takes a matter of seconds to read one of his haiku, they stay in your head for ages afterwards and really make you think about the world in a simplistic sort of way. Plus they're short and easy to remember, so read the book a couple of times and impress your friends by reciting half of them off the top of your head. Rating: 5.


Last but not least, the
final poem that Basho
wrote before he died:


Sick on a journey-
over parched fields
dreams wander on.

In My Mailbox 12

Dear Blog,

IMM returns, hosted like always by Kristi over at The Story Siren.

I got five books this week, all from the library, and all of which I've wanted for absolutely ages:

A Bad Boy Can Be Good for a Girl by Tanya Lee Stone

Before I Fall by Lauren Oliver (yay!)

Monsters of Men by Patrick Ness (reading this at the moment.  amaaaazing)

Make Lemonade by Virginia Euwer Wolff

Speak by Laurie Halse Anderson

Yay!  Especially Yay about Before I Fall, Make Lemonade and Monsters of Men, which I've wanted for aeons.   I reserved Before I Falll from the library about two months ago, so it must be pretty popular.  And Make Lemonade and Monsters of Men just appeared in the Teen section of my local library.  They hardly ever get new books in, dear blog- the Gods of literature must favour me today. 


Anyway, that was my literary week.  What about yours?

Review: On Pointe

Dear Blog,

I missed out on many reviews last week what with Armchair BEA and everything, which was much fun.  A big THANK YOU to all the organisers. 

Anyway.  Last week, I didn't review much, so this week no doubt I will be reviewing muchly :D among other things, I read On Pointe by Lorie Ann Grover, and I need to say something about it.

Summary (from Goodreads): For as long as she can remember, Clare and her family have had a dream: Someday Clare will be a dancer in City Ballet Company. For ten long years Clare has been taking ballet lessons, watching what she eats, giving up friends and a social life, and practicing until her feet bleed -- all for the sake of that dream. And now, with the audition for City Ballet Company right around the corner, the dream feels so close.
But what if the dream doesn't come true? The competition for the sixteen spots in the company is fierce, and many won't make it. Talent, dedication, body shape, size -- everything will influence the outcome. Clare's grandfather says she is already a great dancer, but does she really have what it takes to make it into the company? And if not, then what?

Review: I'm not really sure why I read this. I did ballet when I was younger for three or four years, but gave up when I was eight because they told me I wasn't good enough to take the exam I'd be practising for ages for, and wouldn't let me take any more lessons with them.  So, well, I realised when I read On Pointe that Clare's story was much the same as mine, even though she was dancing seriously and it was what she wanted to do forever, and she was being accepted into a proper ballet company, and I was practising for my Grade 1 Primary.
Anyway.  Even though most of the time I don't miss doing ballet, I like reading books about it.  When I read books like Ballet Shoes and A Company of Swans, it makes me want to start twirling around in a leotard and such again.
So, well, at first On Pointe seemed really different from this.  It vividly describes the pain and pressure of being a ballet dancer, and it made me almost glad that I hadn't decided to keep dancing.  I winced at the pain of the shoes, the blisters, the endless practice, etc. etc.  Who would put themselves through that? Well, I guess the same way I stay up until I feel dizzy with tiredness, my neck goes crunch and my wrists make a weird clicking noise whenever I move them so that I can write things (not just blog entries, poems and novels too).  And like Clare says, "it's worth it."  I suppose it is.  I don't care if I end up with neck pains and a warped back for the rest of my life.  Writing is what I do and I'll put up with a little pain to have the satisfaction of creating whole worlds, scenarios, characters. 

Enough of my rambling.  Anyway.  The second half of the book is when everything becomes much clearer to Clare.  You can be a dancer without having to put yourself under all that pressure and through all that pain.  Yes you can!  Which is why it makes me want to borrow teach-yourself-ballet type books from the library and dance about now and again (I except my readers are sniggering behind their ARCs as they read this).

 Another reason I love this book: it's a blank verse novel.  And, while it's not the best novel-in-verse I've read, it still has that flowing stream-of-consciousness  atmosphere to it.   The book's hard to put down because instead of each part of the story being individual separated poems, the poetry is only broken by line breaks now and again.

One thing: I'm not sure what to make of the whole bulimia sub-plot.  In the beginning, Clare seemed concerned about her friends who would vomit before every lesson, but then as the story progressed it just sort of faded into the background.  I mean, apparently Rosella's mother encouraged her to throw up what little she ate, and when Clare found this out she seemed to be all, "um.  OK. If her mum says it's alright for my friend to do this to herself, then I shouldn't be worried." Um, HELLO?! If Rosella's mother told her to jump off a cliff would she do it (providing it would make her a better dancer)?  Well, probably.  I'm not exactly an expert but bulimia is BAD.  I know that much.   
 
Summary:  Mostly good, with some flaws, which can be overlooked with the re-assuring...moral?  Is it a moral?  That makes it sound like a fable.  Which I suppose it is, the moral being: you CAN do it! (but not without some struggle, which makes it interesting).
 An awesome book whether you're a dancer, you want to be one or you don't know what an arabesque is, On Pointe  is a great read.  Rating: 4.

Review: Far From You

Dear Blog,

I have to go out soon so this will be a quick(ish) review.

Summary (from Goodreads): Years have passed since Alice lost her mother to cancer, but time hasn't quite healed the wound. Alice copes the best she can, by writing her music, losing herself in the love of her boyfriend, and distancing herself from her father and his new wife.

But when a deadly snowstorm traps Alice with her stepmother and newborn half-sister, she'll face issues she's been avoiding for too long. As Alice looks to the heavens for guidance, she discovers something wonderful.

Perhaps she's not so alone after all...

Review: I am completely obsessed with novels-in-verse.  Far from You is one of the many aforementioned novels-in-verse I've found while trawling through Goodreads for hours on end for cool books I'd not have discovered otherwise.  So I worship Goodreads for opening me eyes to a wonderful world of books.  Even though I must spend much money on them. 

Anyway.

I wasn't very keen on it at the beginning. Alice was a typical angst-ridden teenager, and I thought she was selfish and whiny.  I know her mother died and everything, but that has nothing to do with her selfish-and-whinyness.  Except that the whole reason she's selfish and whiny is that her dad remarried after her mother died.  I wanted to yell, "get over it!  You've got a little sister.  Smile!  And better a stepmother than no mother!"  Which is true.  She wasn't an evil fairy-tale type stepmother.  Apart from when she burst into tears because she couldn't stop the baby crying, she seemed nice enough.

However, Alice and her stepmother both showed their true colours when they were stranded by the snowstorm, and I liked them both as they grew to like each other.  Ultimately I admire them both for their bravery.

I can't help but compare this with If I Stay.  Music.  Boyfriend.  Snow.  Sound familiar?  That's because, well, it is.  And, alas, I think If I Stay wins in most cases.  The music seems more alive, the protagonist more likeable.  But you've got to love Far From You because the characters change.  They develop.  They learn!  That's an essential part in any good story. And it's such a poetic book.  The poetry is wonderfully effective and really got you inside Ali's head.  I really felt her hopelessless when she started burning all the precious things they had with them, and when she was trying to get hold of the sweet that fell between the seats.

Far From You is the sort of book to read on a dark and stormy night, curled up on the sofa or in bed with a mug of hot chocolate.  The more safe you feel, the more effective the spare poetry feels.  You really feel the cold and the fear of being trapped in a car with a tiny baby, with nothing to eat or drink.

Summary: I'm so very glad I read this as part of my current poetry craze.  I shall definitely be reading Lisa Schroeder's other novels,  I Heart You, You Haunt Me and Chasing Brooklyn.  Rating: 4.5

In My Mailbox (6)

Dear Blog,

IMM returns as ever, eternally hosted by The Story Siren.  

I didn't get too much this week *is controlling inner self and resisting book borrowing/buying splurges*. However, it was a good week for novels-in-verse:

IN MY MAILBOX

Nothing.

BORROWED

the updated edition of The Ultimate Teen Book Guide.

BOUGHT

Off Amazon.co.uk, and they haven't turned up yet.

Far from You by Lisa Schroeder

On Pointe by Lorie Ann Grover

That was my week.  What about you?

Review: Stop Pretending

Dear Blog,

It's late I feel like I should say something, no matter how much, about Stop Pretending by Sonya Sones .  Sorry this entry's so small.  But a blogger needs her sleep and I shall have to go and get some of it soon. 

Summary (from Goodreads): It happens just like that, in the blink of an eye. An older sister has a mental breakdown and has to be hospitalized. A younger sister is left behind to cope with a family torn apart by grief and friends who turn their backs on her. But worst of all is the loss of her big sister, her confidante, her best friend, who has gone someplace no one can reach.

In the tradition of The Bell Jar, I Never Promised You a Rose Garden, and Lisa, Bright and Dark comes this haunting first book told in poems, and based on the true story of the author's life.

Review: I love blank verse novels.  Maybe because I love blank verse. The added bonus of a plot is, well, fantastic!  I spend hours searching Goodreads for good YA blank verse books.  My main problem with it is that normally novels in verse are annoyingly short.  I mean, just because it's poetry why should it be only 150 pages? Many poets should take a leaf (or six hundred) out of Ellen Hopkin's  YA novels in verse, which are epic.  I've never read any, but I've been meaning to read Crank  for a while. (On the author's website there's a list of other YA verse novels.   But I think it works well that Stop Pretending is so short.  The language is spare and intense, and the words sit in a solitary way by themselves on the page.

The story itself is thought-provoking, and I imagine the theme of mental illness would spark much discussion at a book club. I like that it's told from the point of view of a relative and not the person themself (e.g, A Note of Madness by Tabitha Suzuma, which is). A relative is close enough for their whole world to be shaken up, and a friend (e.g Life, Love and More Good Sense by Amber  Deckers) isn't so...direct.  It's a tricky subject but Sonya Sones writes it well, maybe because Stop Pretending is semi-autobiographical and her own sister had a nervous breakdown.

And what do I make of the main character herself?
I both feel like I was right over her shoulder, nay, I was her, but on the other hand I barely knew her at all.  I didn't even know her name.   I feel like I should have at least found out that much.   Although the reader sees right into her world, the mysterious narrator seems to keep us (meaning, the readers) at a distance and seems drawn inside herself. That took some getting used to, and it made it quite hard to relate to her, but thinking about it I suppose it was quite   effective.

Summary:  Short, deep and ultimately hopeful.  I shall most likely read some of her other books.  Who wouldn't want to read a book called One of Those Hideous Books Where the Mother Dies?!
Rating: 4