Friday, November 30, 2007

Cures for Heartbreak...


Margo Rabb's Cures for Heartbreak kicks total tush.

I do not, as a rule, read a lot of YA fiction, and I'll admit I only read this one because it landed in my lap and (full discoslure) I happen to know Margo. A little bit.

But wow.

Because of my recent resolution to stop overthinking, I will not pick it apart. I will just say this-- I cried.

This is a book like life, a little messy and a little little brutal and a little embarassing. But in the end, full of wisdom and honesty and love if you look at it the right way. It is not adorned. It is not oversmart. It is not trying to impress you. It is just telling a true and terrible story.

There are places where my own memories of teen pain and angst and self-awareness overwhelmed me. I too have a weird dad. I too overthought what I wore each day. Thank God I do NOT have a dead mom.

I did find myself wondering how today's teen responds to outdated references to Depeche Mode and the Gogos (I loved these references, since I'm old) but I don't really care. The book rocks. Really.

Friday, November 16, 2007

Lots of Good Books...


So, I was going to review The Mysterious Benedict Society, but I crashed my car, and while I was embroiled in that insanity, I began reading the Neddiad...

Then I was going to review the Neddiad, but I crashed our other car!!! Two cars!!! And while I was embroiled in *that* insanity, I began reading the Canning Season (although the hardback cover is tons better than the paperback you can see on Amazon)...

So now, here I sit, (in my rental car, duh) with THREE new books I want to talk about... even though I started this blog primarily because I couldn't FIND enough new books worth reading/talking about.

So THAT's GOOD!

But here's the thing-- I've recently gotten some flack for "overthinking" kidlit, and now I'm pondering my methods of reviewing-- my way of talking about children's books online. I'm wondering whether I shouldn't just tell you, in less thinky ways, what I REALLY think of these books. What I like and don't.

So I will attempt to do that right now.

All three of these books are GOOD, though none are "GREAT" (In the true sense of greatness. None of them will save the world. None are Narniastic). But they are all very very very good books.

All are funny and silly in different ways. All offer us endearing and odd and memorable characters. All are old-fashioned in one way or another. All are (however much the authors might protest) literary. Careful with language. Clever. But the books are different from one another.

In short:

Benedict Society (Trenton Lee Stewart)-- I LOVE the cover, the puzzles, the orphanhood, the setting, the precociousness of the main character. If it fails at all it's just because it goes on too long for a middle grade book. It takes too long for things to get where they're going. I got just a teensy bit bored (sad to say), but the book is wonderfully written and reminds me a little of John Bellairs book.

The Neddiad (Daniel Pinkwater):

I love the tone. LOVE the tone. The humor, which is subtle and perfect here (quirky humor is hot right now, and often teeters over into random/dumb. But NOT this one. Never dumb or gratuitous). I love how this book wanders. I love that it is set in Hollywood in the fifties (the world my mom is from). But The Neddiad wraps up a little too fast. I found myself fingering the last 4 pages and thinking, "How is this gonna end in FOUR PAGES?) However-- this book stands up to a Dahl comparison, and that's pretty rare. High praise coming from me. There is something of Dahl in this book. It surprises quietly. (editor's note. Extrmem abuse of the word "Quirky" has been modified. Please forgive...)

The Canning Season (Polly Horvath):

This book is WEIRD. And it doesn't need a bunch of obviously weird weirdity. It just IS weird. Because it's human, and humans are weird.

In addition to being weird, humans are also mean, and so this book has meanness in it too. Delicious meanness. A reliable (and brilliant and fabulous) source tells me that Canadian authors (HOrvath is one such) are more subversive than American kidlitters. They can handle the mean...

Set in Maine in the present-day, but in the creepy old home of two spinsters (Tilly and Penpen), surrounded by lots of hungry bears, with no TV/phone, etc. It appeals to me (though it might not to you) in part because it is the only middle grade book I ever read with the word F*ck in it. Not to mention cancer and cigarettes and mothers who cut off their own heads and drunk driving and all kinds of things you usually only find in "edgy YA" There is a "mystery" aspect to the book I like a lot-- the main character (Ratchet) has a deformity , referred to (awesomely) as "That Thing". There is a little bit of trashiness in this book too. It's a GOOD book, and it comes close to Great, but I fear a lot of parents won't be able to hang with the F*ck.

Did I manage to avoid thinking these books too hard?

Perhaps, but I think I overthought the overthinking...

Sigh.

I yam what I yam...

Monday, November 12, 2007

More excuses...


Okay, so I had TWO car accidents. TWO! And I know I'm way behind on my blogging, but did I mention that I had TWO CAR CRASHES???!!!

And then, on top of that insane mess, I FINALLY got permission to show you THIS! It's the cover of my book (done by the remarkable Greg Call). MY BOOK< "Up and Down the Scratchy Mountains", coming out next August from Random House.

So really, I can't be expected to blog about other people's books when I have THIS to show you. Right?

Right?