Stacked Shelves

I tell myself all the time that I really don’t like YA books. So much emotion. So much angst. So many vampires. The book reviews often get me, however, and I’ll take a YA novel home, start to read, and then regret it. There are two – and now three – exceptions to this: Maggie Stiefvater’s Raven Boy series and E. K.   Johnson’s The Story of Owen and its sequel (though I tweeted to E.K. that after reading the sequel I couldn’t read another book ever again (I was being dramatic)). Now I have to add Patrick Ness to that list. I’ve been meaning to read his Chaos Walking series for a long time, but just haven’t had the opportunity. I’m so terribly glad, though, that I picked up his latest book, The Rest of Us Just Live Here . The main part of this story is about four teens looking forward to the prom, graduation, and the rest of their lives. They’ve got problems – serious ones, actually. Mel is anorexic and nearly died from not eating. Her brother Mike suffers from severe anxiety a

The Thing About Jellyfish by Ali Benjamin is at top of many lists as a contender for the next Newbery award. That’s understandable. It is, at times, a very good book. But there is something about the tale that seems a bit off to me. It’s as if it’s the author tried to write two stories in one. Warning: Spoilers ahead! The book alternates between the present time and the past. Almost from the get-go we know that Suzy’s former best friend Franny has drowned over the summer vacation. And Suzy’s grief seems to have made her selectively mute.  Suzy and Franny were friends since preschool days and guppy swimming lessons. Both were outsiders and often got teased. So they stuck together and vowed never to be like the popular mean kids. But then Franny starts to change (puberty! boys!). Suzy, meanwhile, basically stays the same. Note that this a common plot development in tween lit. One nerdy girl becomes one of the cool kids and her dear old friend doesn’t. Make no mistake, S

I read about 100 books a year. This is not a humble brag. Reading is an important part of my job--I want to be able to plan book clubs and recommend books to people of all ages in my library. But reading so many books sometimes causes plot lines to run together in my head.  For instance, earlier this year, I kept confusing Absolutely Truly by Heather Vogel Frederick with The Secret Hum of a Daisy by Tracy Holzer The former mostly concerns a young girl named Truly whose family has moved back to her mom’s small home town after her father was injured in the military. Truly makes friends fast and comes to love the small town in New Hampshire where they now live. When a mystery captures her attention, she learns more about the town and her mother’s family’s history there. There’s not a single sad note in this book. There are no dead moms. Truly’s family is busy and close-knit. There’s even some dancing. And the family runs a book store! What’s not to love? In The Secret

I have a theory I’m going to throw out here. I’m probably not the first to think of this, but I want to write it down anyway. Librarians and mothers often complain about the abundance of middle-grade novels in which the mom has died, and don’t get us started on all those princess movies where the princess is motherless.  Just the other day – either on Facebook or in an advertisement in e-mail – I saw a tea towel that said “OMG My Mom Was Right About Everything.” And click: This may be why moms have to disappear for a little while (or, more simply in these books, just not be there). The character needs to grow and find herself. How can she do that if mom is there and mom is always right? So, let’s kill off mom. We know when our kids reach a certain age that we must cut those apron strings (standing in for the umbilical cord). Wouldn’t it be nice to find a children’s book instead where the mom and daughter go through that process? I’m sure those books are out there. I just h

I’m not perfect. I’m certainly not a perfectionist. I don’t even have any OCD tendencies (I’ve taken quizzes!). But, as a former copy editor, I do tend to correct mistakes (especially when watching television). It’s a habit. I bring this up because I’ve been bothered by things I’ve read in two books I recently had the opportunity to review. They’re somewhat little things, but I think someone should have checked on them. Like I said, I’m a former copy editor. It was part of my job to check things. But my personality is also such that I’m not always very assertive (luckily, I worked with very, very talented writers and editors who made my job easier). A story that still bothers me: My boss had written the phrase “a tough road to hoe” in one of his columns. I knew it was “row to hoe,” but I figured, he’s the boss, maybe he wants to use “road” because he was talking about paths we take. I wasn’t really brave enough to ask the boss if he knew he had gotten it wrong. Silly on my par