Rotters or Let's All Just Get Cremated

Rotters. Oh Rotters. You were disgusting. Just as I thought it was as gross as it could get, there'd be something else more appalling, repulsive, and desecrating.

Joey Crouch's mom is dead. He's in nowhere Iowa where people hate him just because of his strange and very smelly dad, who locals refer to as The Garbage Man. What his dad actually does is far more disgusting than waste management - he's a grave robber and the scent of rotting corpses clings to him. Soon, the grime and stink of his father's illegal trade will cling to Joey, too. This will bring him more difficulties than adjusting to a new town and getting over his mother's death. It will bring with it a familiarity of death and decay and danger.

The opening is magnificent. Joey catalogues all the ways his mother could die, but doesn't, ending with her actual death. The rest of the novel is propelled from that point, both in how his life changes, and how the past brought about his mother's death, and his future.

However, after that there's almost 200 pages of set-up. It's not unnecessary, and it's vital to Joey's character development, but between the gorgeous prologue and page 195, (where we're treated to a rousing and detailed explanation on how to escape being buried alive - and yes, I've committed this to memory, Lord save me. One must be prepared for anything), there is little to truly advance the plot, and is, therefore, the weakest portion of the story. Daniel Kraus' language is strong, but the school bullies, especially Woody and Celeste, are generic, lack depth, and could be transplanted to any book where bullies are required and fit right in. The first 200 pages is primarily devoted to making Joey miserable enough that he's able to descend low enough for the rest of the book to happen.

Science teacher Gottschalk was extreme, but not overboard, until the reproduction lesson on pages 142-3. Here he crosses over into sexual harassment of Joey, which seemed too much, given the character was cruel, but didn't seem stupid, and there's no real way to know that someone wouldn't rat him out to someone else who would make a stir. Gottschalk by action and even previous speech clearly felt he was a law upon himself in that school, and based on the behavior of the principal and vice-principal, I can see why - but those two did respond to incidents that could result in bad press, and this was surly one of those. Although it did not.

Continuing with first half character issues, is Boris and his family. They were so close to Joey that they shared his grief, and took him in until his father could be found, but Boris more of less immediately drops him? His parents never inquire after him? Make any overtures? When my reading of the situation was that had his father not been reached, it was likely that he'd just stay with them permanently? I know that this was done to further isolate Joey, but why even have the family in the story? Why not just throw him in temporary foster care after his mom dies? It'd be much easier for me to believe that some sketch foster family didn't care about him after he left, than Boris' family. But then, without friends, Joey had less to lose.

The grief and alienation of the first half of the book, leads to a desperation so strong that once Joey is brought into the "digger" clan, and is bestowed a nickname, "Son", he muses, "I felt an unexpected rush: If I were given one of these names, I would be part of a club. I would no longer be alone" p225. It's all he has, it's his only option, and, as he did with his academics, he throws himself all in. Into grave robbing.

Enter Boggs, who is a fantastic, believable, horror villain in his invincibility, psychosis, and grotesqueness. He he seriously one of the best villains I've encountered in ages, and it is his mania, unpredictability, and, er, villainy that propels the last fourth (plus) of the book. Unfortunately, it takes him far too long to enter the story. I would have liked, at the very least, more build-up or foreshadowing regarding him, to work us up to a good lather, since, let's be honest, yeah, there's the whole self-discovery, bildungsroman thing going on, but it's Boggs who gets the plot moving, and Boggs who drives Joey into the rocks at the bottom.

The details of grave robbing are fascinating, as are the rather disgusting details of decomposition. These are largely what keep the reader going during the first portion of the book. I should have pulled some of the really disgusting quotes for you, but I didn't think of it at the time, oh, wait, that's what Amazon's Search Inside is for. Let's just enter a rather unique phrase I remember, "coffin liquor." Yes, that'll do.

If you happen to be eating, I'd skip this next quote. Don't say I didn't warn you.

"I concentrated on my father. He was dealing with another ring that wouldn't dislodge from its puffy finger. He let the hand drop and it smacked into two inches of black slime. We call that coffin liquor, my father said as he reached for his wire cutter, and it's the result of bacteria in the casket's vacuum turning the corpse to mud. I watched him take the woman's left hand. Most of the skin sloughed off in a single sheet like a translucent glove - slip skin, my father assure me, nothing more. He let the skin dissolve into the coffin liquor and regripped the moist green hand. I noted with dull astonishment that the woman's nails were painted candy pink" p 110.

lalala. But really, you can't look away from that, right? And imagine your teens' reactions? Oh, I'm almost tempted to read that paragraph aloud during my next book talks... excellent.

I do think, ultimately, despite taking it to task above, that this is an excellent book. And if you can stomach (or revel) in that last quote, you definitely should read it. Or at least know who should.

On bullying: "The noses of the Incorruptibles [the popular bullies] were trained to detect fear, and in my metamorphosis to the Son I had lost that musk. A new target, therefore, had been chosen" p 350.

The question remains of whether or not there are grave robbers among us...

Where Things Come Back, or let's hope the cover doesn't

Did you know that many of the youth awards accept field nominations? I've never nominated anything. Until now. I actually field nominated Where Things Come Back by John Corey Whaley for the Morris Award. It turns out that you don't find out what happens after you nominate something, but I'm happy just to force a committee to read something that I believe in.

Yes, I do enjoy being evil.

Before Gabrielle disappeared, Cullen Witter held onto the hope that he wouldn't end up trapped in tiny Lily, Arkansas. He bides his time by coming up with book titles and imagining the zombie apocalypse (especially zombies attacking people who annoy him). Without Gabrielle, Cullen does his best to maintain normal amid pain and absurdity when the town forgets one of their own has gone missing and instead becomes obsessed with the reappearance of a supposedly extinct woodpecker. But if a bird can reappear after 60 years of assumed extinction, surely a little brother can come back, too. This is a coming of age tale of hope, redemption, grief, and wonder.

I stumbled upon this book by sheer luck. I peruse all new teen titles that come into the library, and often set several aside to share with my teen advisory board, or book group. This was one of the random newbies that came in several months ago, and I was so captivated by the quirky jacket flap that I had to read it. But let's face it, it was probably the promise of zombies. You know me.

I'm not going to pretend that this is anything other than an odd book. It's weird. There's a B plot going on there that seems rather inconsequential for a long time. It isn't, of course. Adding to the quirk factor is the fact that Cullen occassionally slips from first person into third as he distances himself from pain, embarrassment, or boredom, and starts narrating his life as though it were just a chapter in a book that he could close when things get to be too much. Cullen wants to be a writer, and maintains a growing list of book titles inspired by the happenings around him.

What Whaley has created is an unusual story that never fails to captivate despite its oddities. It's also wryly humorous (the book titles), and so well-structured that it calls for an immediate re-read. It feels fresh even while covering the well-trod small-town and missing child plots, and reminds me of The Perks of Being a Wallflower, or John Green before he got tediously repetitive. For newer titles, Where She Went by Gayle Forman, The Lucky Kind by Alyssa B. Sheinmel, and Okay For Now by would probably be good matches. I will definitely be watching to see what's next for this first-time novelist. Regardless of whether the Morris committee agrees with me.

If you are a NPR nerd like me, you might have heard the NPR feature about the real return of the Ivory Billed Woodpecker. The story was framed by a Sufjan Stevens song The Lord God Bird. I believe (but don't quote me) that this story, which stuck with me for so many years, was what inspired John Corey Whaley. So, that Lazarus burger and haircut in the book? Yeah, that really happened. In Brinkley, Arkansas.

The potshot about the cover is perhaps unfair since it is appropriate for the story, however, I can't deny its questionable appeal to the intended audience. But perhaps the kid who would pick this one up because or in spite of the cover would be the exactly right audience for it.

"Sometimes he'd tell me the myths that go with the constellations, or we'd talk about who was the better general, Odysseus or Patton" p 42.

Heart of a Shepherd by Rosanne Parry made me cry twice. That's not really a trait I look for in books, but, hey, that's later on, lest it be a turn-off for you. Before all that, Heart of a Shepherd made me laugh and cheer out loud. Full of endearing characters, it was just what I was hoping to read over the holiday weekend.

See, I was headed to Spokane, in eastern Washington. My betrothed's (yes, betrothed, if you missed the updates on Twitter or Facebook) family lives there. It was 4th of July. Heart of a Shepherd looked both patriotic and like the topography I was headed to. Also, it was short. And sometimes, you just want a short book. One that lacks a little commitment.

Brother (that's what everyone calls him) is counting down the months until his officer father returns from combat in Iraq. In the meantime, he's the man of the ranch with his aging grandparents while his four older brothers are off at school or stationed elsewhere, and a barely known artist mother in Italy. Brother, being the youngest, is the only one not somehow involved with either the Army or ROTC. Everyone else knows just who they are and what they will do with their lives, but Brother can't really see himself as a soldier or a rancher. And those are about the only things he knows.

Brother is a charming and thoughtful boy who purposefully crumples up his perfectly done homework (to keep up appearances) and has read all the dragon books on his shelf - so he steals ship books from his brothers. He's shouldering a great deal of responsibility and handles it seriously, but appropriately, for a kid his age - there is the necessary worry and fear that would be inherent in that situation. He also personifies his chess pieces as his loved ones - and purposely loses because he can't bear to kill his grandpa's queen (being grandma). Adorable.

There was a lot of honesty in this story. It felt like real people in real situations. While religion was portrayed in the best of light, this isn't an "inspirational fiction" book (keep reading, I know that phrase makes many of you shudder). There was a really awesome priest (all the characters, save grandpa, are Catholic) and Brother's grandfather's a devout Quaker. It's the same kind of versatile combination we found in Hattie Big Sky: safe for the wholesome-seekers and entertaining for the heathens. There was no blatant didactics that overshadowed all other features of the story, there were no conversations with, or beseechments to, God, just a quiet religion that served as the foundation of identity for several characters. Or perhaps this is exactly what inspirational fiction should be.

Basically, as the worst kind of Catholic (lapsed) who regards religion with suspicion, this book didn't piss me off AT ALL.

I especially loved the grandparents; the chess-playing grandfather, the mechanical wiz grandmother. Both veterans.

I truly have nothing bad to say about this book, and you do know how much I like to balance these overly positive reviews with something negative. I mean, it can't be THAT good, right? *shrug* I'd love to see a sticker on this. It's probably a shoo-in for a Christopher Award, and here's a hope for a Newbery (honor, I'd imagine) from my direction (but what do I know? A: nothin'). I really need to do a negative review. I miss being snarky.

Oh, wait, I DO have one complaint. I couldn't tell the four older brothers apart. They all blended together into lovable mush (clearly, not a huge deal for me).

Anyway, give it a go, it's both enjoyable and a good one to have in your arsenal. It's solidly middle grade, I'd say 3rd-6th.

Here's some quotes, in case you were on the fence:

p 2-3: "Rosita's my queen, of course. She's a fifth grader up at the school and my best friend's sister. She can birth a lamb and kill a rattlesnake with a slingshot, which is what I look for in a queen. Plus, she's as pretty as a day in spring, and she laughs when I'm the one talking."

p 27: "The lambs aren't supposed to have names - only horses and dogs are allowed to have names - but I call them Frodo, Merry, Pippin, and Bilbo. I know better than to call one Sam, because Sam is my favorite Hobbit in the whole story."

p 30: "I reckon my grandpa's the only Quaker member of the National Rifle Association. he's a dead-serious pacifist and the best marksman around. he's gotten coyotes, cougars, and even a full-grown bear. No trophy antlers cluttering up our parlor, though. It's not the Quaker way to shoot a vegetarian."

Couple Things:

So bff Sarah sent me the link to the cover. What do you guys think? It kinda freaks me out. Very ominous. But, if I'm honest? It just makes me think of the first Harry Potter. I think any larger-than-life chess will now always have that connotation for me. Interesting that the pawn is the red/bloody one, and the queen is white. Does that mean Bella is the Queen? The one that matters most? heh. Of course it does.

But she is so not going to be turned into a vampire.

(I'm prepared to eat my words, but I don't think she'll turn.)

No matter what issues there are with the series, I'm DYING to know what makes her so special that Eddie can't hear her thoughts, Alice can't see her future, and why the creepy Italian vamps find her so interesting.

IN OTHER NEWS:

Colleen Mondor has started another... project. View it as an answer to Reader Girlz: Guys Lit Wire. It's live today, and will have posts connecting teen boys with books 5+ days a week. She's assembled a LARGE panel of posters, digging up many of the very rare males for an authentic voice for teen lit for guys. It's worth checking out.

I'm technically involved, but I haven't done anything more than a random email or two. I'm more of a swing poster there. I'll do little tidbits when I feel like it (that's my kind of arrangement, btw. No Deadlines!).

Sarah Stevenson (aka a.fortis at Finding Wonderland) has pretty much done all of the site - including the graphic you see above. Pretty dang awesome.

You know, I seem to recall that Eighth Grade DOES Bite.

Gina at First Second Books emailed me a couple months ago asking if I'd like to rebel with them against the sweet flower-filled month of May and post about a vampire books. Any vampire-related material I wanted. Now, I'm drowning. I've got so much on my plate, then and now, that I'm barely able to get through the day. I'd been saying no (or ignoring, or worse, forgetting) things that came my way for weeks. And I continue to do so. Simply out of self-preservation. But. Gina's email was really good. She made me laugh. She wasn't trying to sell me on something or really even the two vamp graphic novels her house has out this month. She approached me with humor and candor, without expecting anything - or being puffed up with self-importance. She did it right. And I said yes. Let's not talk about the fact that I said I'd post yesterday.

I searched around a bit looking for a vampire book I wanted to read - there's no shortage of them these days. I landed on Eighth Grade Bites: The Chronicles of Vladimir Tod by Heather Brewer. Mostly, ok, not mostly. It was pretty much the awesome cover that got me to read this one. I didn't really look into it any further once I saw the cover.

Vlad's different. He's always been different. When he gets hungry or angry he grows fangs. He can eat anything, but the only thing that actually sustains him is blood. Luckily, his aunt is a nurse and has access to the blood bank. Even among vampires (not that he's met any) he's a bit different. You see, his dad was a vampire, but his mom was human, so all the lore doesn't quite match up to his reality. Normal adolescence is hard, but when you've got powers you don't know what to do with? Yeah. When people start to disappear, and strange people show up in his little town, Vlad starts to look closer at himself - and his parent's deaths three years before. Hopefully, he'll learn enough to keep himself safe.

It's a light, quick read. Which is actually odd, since several people die. One death in particular is a little on the gruesome, unsettling side. I'm ambivalent about the book. I won't have a problem recommending it, but it's not a must read. I don't feel that there was any significant character development beyond exactly what you'd expect for Vlad. The supporting cast didn't have any dimension. I was especially disappointed with Vlad's best friend. Henry was interesting and dynamic, but there wasn't anything behind it, and his role at the end of the book was disappointing. It is however littered with amusing lines:

"Girls like Meredith Brookstone didn't date boys like Vladimir Tod. Besides, the hickeys would be a nightmare" p 15.

"'Hey Henry?' 'Yeah?' 'I'm sorry about biting you when we were eight.' 'No problem. Just stay away from the cat or Mom with throw a fit"' p 133.

The sequel, Ninth Grade Slays just came out.

Get Vampire Month stuff here and check out the :01 blog for the updates.

Tension? Oh, is there ever.

I've never started a post ten minutes after finishing the book. If you read teen lit (let's go out on a limb and assume that you do) you are probably well aware that Laurie Halse Anderson has a book, Twisted, coming out on March 20. Furthermore, you are probably intending to read said book. Such intentions would be good. Not at all, in any way, ill-advised.

I have no qualm whatsoever in agreeing wholeheartedly with the amazing Mr. Chris Crutcher's blurb on the back of my ARC: "Laurie Halse Anderson is at the top of her storytelling game. If you've read Speak, you know what that means. The only thing truer than Twisted is the 'loser' character who tells the story. This one comes with a guarantee."

That pretty much says it all. Maybe it spoke to me so loudly because I can closely relate to certain plot elements. I don't know. What I do know is that parts of this book had me holding my breath. Tyler's turmoil reaches riveting intensities where your breath is more disruption than you want stirring the air; it might just affect the plot.

Also, it is amusing for me to note that (and remember this is an advanced copy, so who knows if it will show up in the official book) stamped boldly in the beginning pages is "This is not a book for children." It's not. While Anderson doesn't use the red button word 'scrotum,' male genitalia is referred to many times in many ways (I had to refer to it, I've not mentioned the ridiculous controversy AT ALL, but I couldn't resist - it was too easy a tie-in!). Although this is not why the book isn't for children. Going into why exactly gives away more than I'm willing to give, so you'll just have to trust me.

The cover is striking and wonderful, but I wonder about its appeal to guys. This is her first male narrator (very convincing, by the way. At least to me. Side note: I remember going to hear her speak while she was writing this one - right after Prom came out. She spoke a little about all the boys she was talking to for research. She researches well. Which I already knew, having read Fever, 1793, followed closely by a non-fiction title concerning the same event, An American Plague by Jim Murphy. I was astounded at how familiar places & events in Murphy's title were to me after Anderson had already brought them to life.), and I already know a couple teen boys I'll be giving this to, but does anyone think that this cover will fly with guys of the appropriate age (14+)? The boys I'll immediately give it to trust me enough to cover their doubt, but what do you all think? I know that at least a couple guys read this blog, even if they don't read the books I post about. James? Dan? Josh? Anyone? Would you pick this up, not knowing the author? Would it take some hand-selling for you to do so? Is it gender-neutral enough? It's fantastic, and I'd hate for it to be overlooked because of a cover.

(If you want to see great pictures of crazy amounts of snow, head to her blog.)

Besuboru!

A boy comes in. 12ish. He likes Eragon and Alex Rider. Shows no interest in Young James Bond and I don't have The Ranger's Apprentice on the shelf. What does he quite happily leave with? Samurai Shortstop by Alan Gratz.

I think I had him at seppuku.

Trust a 12-year-old boy to know about ritualistic Japanese suicide.

Tokyo 1890. The Samurai way of life has been outlawed and citizens told to embrace the Western way of life. Toyo Shimada doesn't understand why his uncle and his father are so against the new Japan. Toyo has just assisted at Uncle Koji's bloody seppuku when he heads off to boarding school. All he wants is to play baseball, but he must deal with hazing AND try to reason with his father who can see none of the honor of old Japan in the new world.

This is SUCH a boy book. Yay! There's bloody ritualistic suicide, quickly morphing into hazing, peeing out of windows, then some sports, some illegal samurai training and of course, some father-son bonding. I was a little disappointed at how Americanized it felt to me, as I think that more than any generation, this one is pretty well versed in Japanese culture. But maybe not historically. I don't know. But the fact that the kid knew seppuku? Yeah, I was impressed.

This and Viking Warrior are great intros to historical fiction for boys. If you don't mind some violence (Viking Warrior is far more violent than this. Not that the hazing is anything light.)