Messy by Heather Cocks and Jessica Morgan

Max hung back from following them into the classroom. She felt jittery and weird. Not at the prospect of spending more marinating in her and her classmates' mutual hostility--sometimes that could be invigorating--but because after this, she had a meeting with YourNewItGirl@gmail.com. At It Girl's suggestion, they were meeting for dinner at Mel's Dine-In on Sunset to see if they had "a copacetic rapport." Max focused her nervous energy on retying her Doc Marten boots and trying to brush the fine film of chalk dust off her black skirt. It had never recovered from this morning's blackboard race in calculus. Nobody else had come out of class looking like a powdered doughnut. Maybe designer pants repelled dirt in a way H&M's one-ply cotton could not.

-Messy 

 This was another enjoyable outing from The Fug Girls. I feel like they are pretty talented in creating characters, giving us people who behave realistically and don't just act in ways that further the plot or conform to romantic tropes. They are also very funny, which doesn't hurt. I am very much looking forward to their current work-in-progress, which looks to be a Kate-and-Will inspired royal romance with an American twist. How could you resist?

Up next: The Laughing Policeman by Maj Sjöwall and Per Wahlöö

Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children by Ransom Riggs

I love you too, I wanted to say with as much hurtful sarcasm as I could muster, but she hadn't seen me, and I kept quiet. I did love her, of course, but mostly just because loving your mom is mandatory, not because she was someone I think I'd like very much if I met her walking down the street. Which she wouldn't be, anyway; walking is for poor people.

-Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children


If you were to flip through a copy of Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children, it's the photographs that would catch your eye*.  The photographs are all rather, well, peculiar: photographs of children apparently levitating and lifting boulders and standing covered in bees. These unusual children are the focus of Ransom Riggs's book.

Although I was intrigued by the photos, I was also concerned that they might be nothing more than a gimmick; the story just a way to string one photograph to the next. Luckily, there's more to Miss Peregrine's Home than that.

The story centers on Jacob, a teenager living in Florida and filling his days with increasingly byzantine attempts to get fired from his job at a drugstore. (It will never happen, as his family owns the chain). His life is privileged but otherwise mundane--nothing peculiar about it at all.

That is until something quite pivotal happens, something that divides his life into Before and After, as Jacob puts it.  It's traumatic, but it has implications beyond the post-incident nightmares and therapy sessions: it convinces Jacob that the stories he heard as a child--fantastic stories his mysterious grandfather told about his own childhood, stories that centered around the photographs scattered throughout the book--might actually be true.

This realization prompts Jacob to seek out the place in England where his grandfather spent part of his childhood, under the care of the elusive Miss Peregrine. It's a rich world, populated by characters who do the book's strange photographs justice. There's adventure to be had there, certainly, but it's also a place where Jacob wrestles with some thorny emotional issues--issues that I'm loath to bring up without spoiling the story, but ones that I found it interesting to mull over.

The end of the story sets up Riggs quite nicely to continue the story in a sequel (or series).  I'm most certainly on board to continue the journey with Jacob whenever the next book is released.

Up next: The prize-winning A Visit from the Goon Squad by Jennifer Egan (which I've actually already finished--behind once again!).

*Though the design of the pages themselves, I might add, is also quite striking.

The Van Alen Legacy by Melissa de la Cruz

When she woke up that morning, the first thing that came to mind was that the bright white shutters looked familiar. Why did they look familiar? No. That wasn't right. That wasn't the right question to ask. She was getting ahead of herself again. It happened. But now she had to concentrate. Every day she had to ask herself three very important questions, and that wasn't one of them.

The first question she had to ask herself was, What is my name?

She couldn't remember. 

-The Van Alen Legacy 

Well, I definitely made a mistake here in not reviewing this book immediately after reading it, as now it's been a week and the books are starting to blur together. Let's see: Schuyler and Oliver are on the run from the Venators, who believe she's responsible for a recent murder; Bliss is having a seriously unfortunate identity crisis/extended possession; and Mimi is down in Brazil with the redeemed Kingsley Martin, searching for any lead in the disappearance of Bliss's little sister, Jordan. Plot-wise, things are hopping.

At this point, though, I feel like I'm running out of things to say about the series. Bliss's story was headed in quite a strange direction, though the events of this book mean things should change fairly substantially. Schuyler's, as always, was not quite as engaging as it should be--she's just not that dynamic of a character. I am, however, growing more invested in Mimi. She's certainly become more nuanced as a character, and her relationship with Kingsley vs. her relationship with Jack leaves me curious to see what she will do going forward. I'll definitely be back for the next book, but for now I'm taking a bit of a breather.

Up next: The Minotaur by Barbara Vine

Revelations by Melissa de la Cruz

She had almost dropped off to sleep when there was a shadow on the terrace.

Schuyler looked up expectantly, feeling a mixture of anticipation and a deep and abiding sadness. Her heart was racing a million miles a minute. Even if she saw him every day, it would always be like the first time.

"Hey, you," a voice said. And a boy appeared from the shadows.

But he was not the one she was waiting for.

-Revelations 

I'll admit that at times reading the Blue Bloods books seems a bit like eating candy for breakfast*--a sweet, guilty pleasure in the moment, but not something you'd want to make a habit of. Still, after Little Dorrit I was in need a of a sugar rush, so I picked up Revelations, the third book in Melissa de la Cruz's series.

What's happening with Schuyler Van Alen this time around? Well, there are nefarious Silver Blood happenings afoot, of course, particularly tied to the reappearance of the troubled Dylan Ward. But Schuyler for the most part is consumed with more mundane problems; specifically, how to choose between the two loves of her life. There's Oliver Hazard-Perry, the human who's been her long-time best friend, not to mention the only person with whom she's performed the Sacred Kiss (otherwise known as sucking blood). And then there's Jack Force, the handsome vampire she can't help but feel drawn to despite the fact that he's promised to another. Decisions, decisions.

I can't say that Revelations was the most compelling of books, but I must admit that whenever I was reading it, I wasn't particularly inclined to stop. The book did offer up one unexpected twist**, but I'm not exactly sure what I think of it--we'll see, I suppose.

Up next: Reading the next Blue Bloods book, The Van Alen Legacy.

*Full disclosure--I'm not sure I have actually ever eaten candy for breakfast, though I recall getting into some pretty early on more than one Christmas morning.

**Well, unexpected to the series as a whole; it was pretty well telegraphed within the book itself. 

Spoiled by Heather Cocks & Jessica Morgan

"As least she's got better taste than the last underclassman you hired," Arugula noted. "Remember those Hot Topic coupons?"

"I know," Brooke shuddered. "As if I shop at the mall, much less the store that costumed my dad's zombie eating-disorder movie."

"Was Chew any good? I couldn't bring myself to see it."

"Don't," Brooke confided. "Daddy dumped the lead actress in the middle of filming and you can totally tell. She stops purging with conviction halfway through the second act. So disrespectful."

-Spoiled

I've been reading the work of Heather Cocks and Jessica Morgan since both were recappers on Television Without Pity--heck, that might have been back when it was still called Mighty Big TV. They moved on to found their own blog, Go Fug Yourself, which is basically the best fashion blog around (if you have a sense of humor, at least, which is pretty useful in the world of fashion). When they started talking about the YA book they were writing, it was pretty obvious to me that it was going to be a must-read.

Spoiled tells the story of Molly Dix, a sunny Midwestern high-school student whose life is turned upside-down in the wake of her mother's death. Molly is left not only to grieve her mother's death, but to cope with her death-bed confession: she lied about the identity of Molly's real father. He's not a long-dead military man, as Molly always believed, but instead the world-famous action star Brick Berlin. What's more, Molly's mother makes a last request--she wants Molly to move to L.A. and let Brick take her in.

Molly, naturally, is floored. And while Brick is as warm and loving as she could have hoped (though unsurprisingly busy), she's anxious about another new addition to her family: Brick's daughter, Brooke. As well she should be, it turns out, because queen bee Brooke has no stake in making the transition to L.A. easy for Molly--in fact she'd be perfectly pleased if Molly took the next flight home. And if she can do anything to encourage that, well....

Spoiled is a lot of frothy fun. It reminded me of Mean Girls meets Clueless meets 90210 (original awesome version), and how much better can YA get than that? (Unless it has wizards or a dystopian death game, but that's apples and oranges, I think). There is definitely a lot of room for a sequel, which is exciting--especially because I think we need the introduction of the resident Bad Boy--either a jackass (Clueless's Elton) or a poor little rich boy (90210's Dylan) would work for me.

And we're going to get a movie, right? Or a TV show? Someone needs to make that happen, pronto.

Up next: This post is embarrassingly late. Seriously, I started it a solid two weeks ago. Anyway, I've already finished  finished Kate Atkinson's Started Early, Took My Dog, which I loved.

Masquerade by Melissa de la Cruz

 

"Aduivo Amicus Specialis. Nihilum cello. Meus victus est tui manus." I come to you for aid as a secret, special friend. I have nothing to hide. My life is in your hands.

He looked into her eyes with an icy stare that could only belong to Schuyler's kind, and her words faded into silence.

"Dormio," he ordered, and with a wave of his hand, she felt the darkness come upon her as she fainted.

-Masquerade

If you were to pick a city a vampire might haunt, Venice would have to be among your top prospects. So it comes as no surprise that that's where we find Schuyler Van Alen at the outset of Masquerade, the second Blue Bloods book by Melissa de la Cruz. Schuyler has come to Venice in search of her grandfather, a man whom she has never met. Nevertheless, he's her last hope to learn more about the Silver Bloods, the corrupted vampires believed to be behind a recent string of attacks in New York.

It's gotten dangerous out there for the Blue Bloods, and things are particularly difficult for Schuyler and her friend Bliss. Both girls have been dealing with mysterious blackouts--and things only get more complicated when they consider taking their first human blood...

Okay, it can sound a little silly at times. But once you get wrapped up in the Blue Bloods world, Masquerade becomes a pretty good pageturner. I certainly read it quite quickly, and I'm sure I'll be getting to the third one before long. 

Up next: I've already finished The Thirteenth Tale by Diane Setterfield, and I'm looking forward to coming back and writing about it. 

Blue Bloods by Melissa de la Cruz

Across the street, Schuyler saw a cab pull up to the curb, and a tall blond guy stepped out of it. Just as he emerged, another cab barreled down the street on the opposite side. It was swerving recklessly, and at first it looked like it would miss him, but at the last moment, the boy threw himself in its path and disappeared underneath its wheels. [...]

Schuyler ran across the street, fully expecting to see a dead body, but the boy was standing right in front of her, counting the change in his wallet. He slammed the door shut and sent his taxi on its way. He was whole and unhurt.

"You should be dead," she whispered. 

-Blue Bloods


Schuyler Van Alen has a fairly ordinary sort of life--well, by Manhattan standards, at least. She's grown up with her grandmother in a dusty mansion on Riverside Drive and attends school across town at the tony Duchesne. For fun, she enjoys nothing more than hanging out with her best friend Oliver and reading magazines. Every Sunday, she goes to the hospital to visit her mother, who has spent the last fifteen years in a coma--okay, that's a little out of the ordinary.

Things change when Schuyler's classmate Aggie Carondolet is found dead of an apparent drug overdose. One of the most popular girls in school, Aggie was often in the company of Duchesne queen bee Mimi Force, who has never had any use for the offbeat Schuyler. So Schuyler is surprised when Mimi's equally popular twin brother, Jack, approaches her with a theory: Aggie Carondolet didn't just die--she was murdered.

Thus begins Schuyler's initiation into the world of the Blue Bloods--those who are not only the world's most wealthy and influential citizens, but also something far older and more powerful: vampires. Needless to say, life is no longer remotely ordinary for Schuyler.

Melissa de la Cruz has a breezy style that made Blue Bloods an enjoyable light read. Her mythology for vampires is interesting--there is a reincarnation angle that I haven't seen explored before. I did find her penchant for explaining what every character is wearing--down to the brand--somewhat amusing, but I guess it's not totally unexpected for a book set on the label-conscious Upper East Side. All in all, a fun read, and I'm sure I'll be reading more.

Up next: In fact, I've already read the second book in the series, Masquerade. I hope to be back to blog about it before heading out of town for a few days.

The Last Olympian by Rick Riordan

The palace was as big as the city on Mount Olympus, with wide courtyards, gardens, and columned pavilions. The gardens were sculpted with coral colonies and glowing sea plants. Twenty or thirty buildings were made of abalone, white but gleaming with rainbow colors. Fish and octopi darted in and out of the windows. The paths were lined with glowing pearls like Christmas lights. 

The main courtyard was filled with warriors--mermen with fish tails from the waist down and human bodies from the waist up, except their skin was blue, which I'd never known before. Some were tending the wounded. Some were sharpening spears and swords. One passed us, swimming in a hurry. His eyes were bright green, like that stuff they put in glo-sticks, and his teeth were shark teeth. They don't show you stuff like that in The Little Mermaid.

-The Last Olympian 


I am getting to this entry a wee bit belatedly, since I finished the book about a week ago, but we'll see what I can do, shall we? The Last Olympian is the final book in Rick Riordan's series about the adventures of Percy Jackson, teenage demigod. In The Last Olympian, Percy, a son of Poseidon, has come to his greatest challenge yet: he must take on the vengeful Titans, those whose power was usurped by the Olympians so long ago.

Things aren't looking so good for the Olympians at the moment. One Titan has escaped his prison in Mount Saint Helens and is merrily making his way east, wreaking havoc among the human population as he goes--and even Zeus himself can barely slow him down. Meanwhile, Kronos is heading straight to New York City, home of Mount Olympus, where Percy and his fellow campers are the last--and only--line of defense. With infighting among the gods and demigods and the presence of a spy among them, a happy outcome begins to seem like a dim prospect. Percy has to go to Hades and back--again--to have any chance of saving life as he knows it.

As always, I found that this series is a blend of some truly intriguing, creative ideas and a sensibility that is designed to appeal almost exclusively to younger readers--and, fair enough, it is YA. But there's just something about Percy's voice that is much more teenager-y to me than, say, Harry Potter's. I don't know if it's an American vs. British thing, or because Riordan was a teenage boy himself at one point; because Percy is just not as mature as Harry or perhaps because he had a more normal childhood--for whatever reason, The Last Olympian and other books in this series feel more like books strictly aimed at children than the Harry Potter ones do. I can't say it's a bad thing--again, these are books written for children--but it does dampen my own enthusiasm somewhat.

That having been said, I'm glad I stuck with the series. I found some of the strands of the story to be pretty compelling--I especially liked the resolution to the Percy/Annabeth/Rachel triangle. The treatment of the secondary gods like Hestia was interesting, and I couldn't help but smile at Riordan's characterization of Persephone and Demeter. The spy thing had me turning pages pretty quickly at a certain point (though I thought the resolution was a little rushed). It's a likeable series and I wish it had been more successful as a film venture, as the books seem as though they would have lent themselves very well to adaptation. As it stands, I wouldn't hesitate to recommend these books to a child--I just might not suggest them to an adult.

Up next: Stephen Hawking's A Brief History of Time. Yeah. Well, it seemed like a good idea at some point...

Coraline by Neil Gaiman

Coraline stopped and listened. She knew she was doing something wrong, and she was trying to listen for her mother coming back, but she heard nothing. Then Coraline put her hand on the doorknob and turned it; and, finally, she opened the door.

It opened on to a dark hallway. The bricks had gone as if they'd never been there. There was a cold, musty smell coming through the open doorway: it smelled like something very old and very slow.

Coraline went through the door.

-Coraline 

First things first: Coraline is a genuinely scary book. I thought, having seen the movie, that I would be fairly well prepared for any spooky bits, but as it turned out that did not help so much at all. It turns out my imagination is even better than a (very good!) film. Yay?

I probably ought to back things up for a moment: plot. In Neil Gaiman's story, British schoolgirl Coraline Jones moves to a new home one summer with her mother and father. Coraline's parents mean well, but they're busy, and Coraline often has to amuse herself. She's often bored, and she's also grown tired of picking at dinners she finds inedible and buying the drabbest of school uniforms. She's looking for adventure.

Then she finds the door described in the passage above. It leads to adventure, to be sure--a whole new world, actually. There Coraline finds another mother and father that at first glance seem just like her own--except dinner there is tastier, and her clothes are nicer, and her parents are ready to drop everything to keep her amused. She could live in this world forever, her other mother tells her, if she'd just do one tiny thing....

Like any place where everything seems perfect, this other world is actually rotten to the core. It's also, Coraline discovers, not so easy to escape. She finds herself in extraordinary danger as she attempts to regain the life she once found so boring.

I've given some thought as to why I found Coraline so scary, and I think it's a mix of a couple of things. One is the way that Gaiman takes what should be Coraline's safe haven (her home, her family) and twists it into the stuff of nightmares. I don't wish to spoil the story, but there's a bit toward the end with the other father--just unbelievably creepy to me. I also think that the fact that Coraline is essentially on her own in this other world makes things quite scary. In the film, at least, she has her friend Wybie, but in the book she's quite alone with the exception of a mysterious, unnamed cat. If I were all alone in that place as an adult I'd be petrified, so it's difficult for me to imagine the terror of encountering this other world as a child. Shiver. Well done, Mr. Gaiman.

Up next: Still lagging a bit behind in updating this blog, so I've already finished Rick Riordan's The Last Olympian.

Jane by April Lindner

"So. Passing as a sex symbol. Can I?"

I weighed my words carefully. "You might not be movie-star handsome," I said finally, "but you're good-looking for a rock star."

Mr. Rathburn's eyes widened. "That's three times you've hurt my feelings in one conversation," he said a bit gruffly.

-Jane

Spoilers for Jane Eyre (& thus Jane) ahead.

Retellings of classic novels have become so popular that it's almost surprising that it took this long to get a modern take on Jane Eyre. April Lindner admits in her author's note for Jane that there were some challenges in imagining the story in our times; it doesn't  lend itself to the modern day quite as easily as something like Pride and Prejudice, for instance. Lindner figured out a way around these problems, though, and by and large I think she wrote a successful adaptation.

In Lindner's story, Jane Moore applies for a position as a nanny after her parents die in a car accident, leaving her financially destitute and forced to drop out of college. The agency finds that her complete lack of pop culture savvy makes her the perfect candidate for one of their plum positions: nanny to reclusive rock star Nico Rathburn*. She accepts, then pours over old tabloid stories to learn about her new employer. Rathburn is a legendary musician with a notorious history of drug use and womanizing, including an ill-fated marriage to a drug-addicted model. She's a bit taken aback, but nonetheless soon finds herself at his secluded estate outside of New York City, wondering if she's made the right choice.

Lindner hits many of the same beats that Jane Eyre does: the roadside run-in with her  boss (far less plausible here, though she does try to explain her lack of recognition of this man whom she's seen in dozens of pictures), the "Do you think me handsome, Jane?" bit (the excerpt above), the guests coming to Thornfield, etc. I enjoyed seeing the parallels.

 I found Lindner's handling of Rathburn's secret to be among the most interesting parts of the adaptation. In some ways, the news should come as less of a surprise to Jane Moore than it did to Jane Eyre: JM knows a lot more about her employer's past than JE ever did, which is one reason why the rock star twist on Rochester didn't quite work for me. JM knew Rathburn was once married, at least. It's been a while since I read Jane Eyre, but I don't think JE finds that out that until the whole crazy story comes out. Still, you don't expect to find people holed up in attics nowadays any more than you did in Charlotte Bronte's time. JM's reaction is, unsurprisingly, similar to JE's, and though it does seem extreme, she does eventually come to realize that she didn't handle it terribly well.

I enjoyed Jane Moore as a character, but oddly I didn't care much for Nico Rathburn. I love Rochester**, so perhaps it was inevitable that his modern update would seem like a pale imitation. On the other hand, I enjoy both Jane Austen's Mr. Darcy and Helen Fielding's Mark Darcy, so I don't think that's exactly it. Part of what made Rochester so interesting was that he had a hidden dark part. He alluded to it when talking with Jane, and even confessed to some parts of it. However, it wasn't like Jane could look him up on Wikipedia or something to get more information. Nico Rathburn, despite the fact that he's supposed to have been out of the media spotlight for some time, is just not mysterious enough. Also, he's a middle-aged guy with earrings, which, let's face it, is a hard look to pull off, even for a rock star.

Even with those reservations about Mr. Rathburn, though, I sped through Jane in a day. I couldn't really see reading it again, but it was pretty enjoyable. It didn't quite pack the punch of Jane Eyre, though; it definitely lacks that dark, Gothic tone that makes Jane Eyre so captivating. I'm interested in rereading some of those classics with a weird bent (The Turn of the Screw, Rebecca), and maybe I'll add Jane Eyre to the list--or at least make sure I see the upcoming film adaptation, which looks great.

Up next: The Night Villa by Carol Goodman, set in my new hometown of Austin and my beloved Italy, which bodes well. 

*I just can't with that name. When I was in middle school, I had a book called Building Believable Characters. In that book, the author mentions the importance of matching a character's first and last names (and then provided long lists of names by ethnic heritage, which was probably my main motivation in buying the book. I'm fascinated by names.). Nico is a great first name for a rock star: kind of quirky, kind of edgy. Rathburn sounds super posh (it makes me think of Basil Rathbone, for one) and, while it works well as a name that sort of evokes Rochester without being Rochester, it clashes horribly with Nico to my ears. Just so fake sounding, you know? Anyway. End tangent.

**When I was in high school, my friends and I used to go blazer bowling on a semi-regular basis. I found a favorite ball at the lanes, a pinkish one with a slight lump on it. Being a weird sort (surprising, I know), I named the ball Hurricane Rochester. (Hurricane was the brand of the ball). True, super dorky story.

Mockingjay by Suzanne Collins

Are you, are you
Coming to the tree
Wear a necklace of rope, side by side with me.
Strange things did happen here
No stranger would it be
If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree.

-Mockingjay 

I knew I was going to read Mockingjay fast. It's no surprise, really, given how quickly I read the other two books in the trilogy. But really I knew I couldn't linger over Mockingjay because it's the last part of a dystopian story, and past experience has taught that Suzanne Collins doesn't pull punches. I knew Bad Things were going to happen.

And they do, of course. Terrible, unbearable things, because that's what happens when you're at war. And Katniss Everdeen, newly whisked away to the underground bunkers of District 13, has undoubtedly found herself in the middle of one. The Hunger Games are over, and yet they continue, as Katniss realizes: it's just that now they're all players. Everyone from her sister, finding her place as a much-needed healer, to Gale, who's becoming slightly too good at planning death. From Haymitch, who Katniss can't help but reluctantly trust, to President Coin, newly introduced as the calculating leader of 13. There they all are in 13, ready to rally behind Katniss, the face of the rebellion. Their mockingjay.

It's not easy for Katniss to step up and do what the others ask of her. There's already been so much devastation, and Katniss is left reeling. Mentally disoriented, as the plastic bracelet on her wrist says. She'd rather curl up in an out-of-the-way supply closet than get made up for propaganda videos. But she can't hide away forever. Plus there's Peeta to consider.

I don't think I realized until this book just how much I liked Peeta. Poor Peeta, left behind in the Arena when Katniss was rescued by District 13. Left to the devices of President Snow. Poor, poor Peeta. Katniss can't just hide away and hope for the best when it comes to him. Their relationship has never been easy, often simply because Katniss is just not good with people, but Mockingjay complicates things even further. I found it one of the most compelling parts of the book, and, without revealing too much, I must say whichever actor ends up playing Peeta in the upcoming films certainly has his work cut out for him.

 So yes, it was a hard book, but it wrapped up the trilogy very well. I'm glad I got over my initial reservations about reading The Hunger Games, as the stories have provided me with both entertainment and the opportunity for some reflection. I'm very eager to see what will come of the films, as there is an opportunity to make some excellent ones here. Casting, of course, is crucial, especially for Katniss, who remains the best young heroine I know of in contemporary literature at the moment. I'm getting a kick out of reading speculation on the subject, and I'm hoping for good things. It would be a shame to do disservice to these books.

Up next: I've definitely been too long without a non-fiction book. Just started Ghost Hunters, by Deborah Blum, about the rise of the Spiritualism movement in the 19th century.

Catching Fire by Suzanne Collins

If it were up to me, I would try to forget the Hunger Games entirely. Never speak of them. Pretend they were nothing but a bad dream. But the Victory Tour makes that impossible. Strategically placed almost midway between the annual Games, it is the Capitol's way of keeping the horror fresh and immediate. Not only are we in the districts forced to remember the iron grip of the Capitol's power each year, we are forced to celebrate it. And this year, I am one of the stars of the show. I will have to travel from district to district, to stand before the cheering crowds who secretly loathe me, to look down into the faces of the families whose children I have killed...

-Catching Fire

Remembering how well The Hunger Games served me on my trip over the Thanksgiving holiday, I was delighted when  Catching Fire came off the library's hold list just in time for my most recent travels. And the book lived up to my expectations perfectly--to the extent that I raced through the whole thing in just a few hours.

When we left Katniss Everdeen at the end of The Hunger Games, things were really going as well as she could have imagined. Placed in a terrible situation, Katniss outmaneuvered the Gamemakers and saved both herself and fellow tribute Peeta Mellark. She had no idea what ramifications her victory would have.

On the eve of her Victory Tour (as described above), Katniss learns that unrest has been brewing in some districts of Panem. The decidedly evil President Snow is furious with Katniss, as her act of defiance in the arena is perceived as the root cause of the recent troubles.  He threatens her in no uncertain terms: if she doesn't stay in line on the Victory Tour, she's putting her life and the lives of her family and friends at risk. It's a sobering reminder for Katniss of how, even as a victor, she will never be able to put the Games behind her.

In Catching Fire, Katniss not only grapples with how to survive in the increasingly draconian District 12; she also struggles with her relationships with Peeta and Gale and starts to understand just how necessary the rebellion she inadvertently touched off may be. There's also the Quarter Quell, about which I won't say a word. Part of the reason Suzanne Collins's writing is so engaging is that she is able to surprise the reader. There are definitely times when the reader is ahead of Katniss, of course--even after President Snow's visit, she is slow to realize just how much impact she had during the Hunger Games, for instance. Katniss is an amazing heroine, though--brave and resourceful, not to mention still quite adept with a bow and arrow. She's not always so quick to understand people, but it would be pretty boring if she could do everything. Besides, she's a teenage girl growing up in a world in which she has been left ignorant of what we would consider common knowledge (she's vaguely familiar with the concept of a jungle, for instance). I'll cut her some slack.

Catching Fire ends on a helluva cliffhanger, so I am eager to read the third book of the trilogy, Mockingjay.  I've become invested in so many of the characters--besides Peeta and Kaniss, of course, I'm intrigued to see what lies in store for the complex Haymitch, kindly Madge, and even new characters like Finnick. If Collins can keep up the same level of quality she's maintained throughout the first two books (fingers crossed!), it's bound to be quite a ride.

Up next: I've been looking all over my house for Dracula, as I recently watched the 1992 film adaptation and wanted to see just how far astray it wandered. If it's nowhere to be found, I have a book of Wallander short stories that wants reading, for sure.

The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins

Taking the kids from our districts, forcing them to kill one another while we watch — this is the Capitol's way of reminding us how totally we are at their mercy. How little chance we would stand of surviving another rebellion. Whatever words they use, the real message is clear. "Look how we take your children and sacrifice them and there's nothing you can do. If you lift a finger, we will destroy every last one of you. Just as we did in District Thirteen."

To make it humiliating as well as torturous, the Capitol requires us to treat the Hunger Games as a festivity, a sporting event pitting every district against the others. The last tribute alive receives a life of ease back home, and their district will be showered with prizes, largely consisting of food. All year, the Capitol will show the winning district gifts of grain and oil and even delicacies like sugar while the rest of us battle starvation.

"It is both a time for repentance and a time for thanks," intones the mayor.

-The Hunger Games

First, a programming note: I hadn't intended to step away from this blog for so long. I gave up on the collection of mystery short stories because they proved to be too hard-boiled for my taste. The next book I picked up, The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test, also proved to be slow going. While batting out on the reading front, I was also working on my own NaNoWriMo project, which meant my free time was devoted to writing, not reading. All in all, not a combination that encourages posts here.

Luckily, I had The Hunger Games in tow as I traveled last week.For the first time in weeks, I had a page-turner in front of me instead of a slow slog. It was a breath of fresh air.

The Hunger Games, by Suzanne Collins, is set some time in the future, when the country has been divided into twelve districts (there were thirteen—see the excerpt), under the totalitarian rule of the Capitol. The exact circumstances that took North America to Panem, as it is now known, are unclear, though both natural disasters and war are mentioned. We see Panem through the eyes of Katniss Everdeen, a sixteen-year-old girl living in District 12. Katniss has seen enough poverty and despair to be wary of the government, though she is too smart to say anything aloud. In District 12, you never know who might be listening.

Katniss, an able huntress, has provided for her family since the death of her father in a mining accident some years earlier. Technically hunting is illegal, but even officials are willing to turn a blind eye to the activities of Katniss and her partner Gale in exchange for some much-needed meat. Daily living is a struggle, but Katniss is a survivor.

Then comes the annual drawing for the Hunger Games. Each district picks two representatives between the ages of 12 and 18. These 24 tributes will be brought together to the Capitol in order to fight to the death. Katniss braces herself to hear her name, but she never expected the name that is actually called: Primrose Everdeen, her younger sister.

Katniss volunteers to take her sister's place and soon she, along with fellow District 12 tribute Peeta Mellark, are whisked away to the Capitol. What they encounter there is a strange mix of vulgar overindulgence (the rich foods, the elaborate costumes) and what soon becomes a bitter fight for survival. Along the way, Katniss tries to make sense of the people around her. Aside from Peeta, whose motivations Katniss cannot fathom, there's her drunken mentor Haymitch, the only living Hunger Games winner from District 12; her perceptive costumer, Cinna; and the many other tributes, including the sprightly Rue and the bellicose Cato.

Honestly, when I first heard about The Hunger Games, I didn't think it was for me. The "fight to the death" angle seemed much too bleak for me to get any enjoyment from it. However, I kept hearing good things, and I'm so glad I read it. Katniss is about the best heroine for an adventure story you can imagine, and Suzanne Collins keeps things going at a brisk pace. I could have easily finished the book in one day, but I didn't want to be stranded without any reading material. I just put sequel Catching Fire on hold at the library. I anticipate it's going to be a long wait, but I'm very excited to keep reading about this world.

Up next: Good question! I have a few magazines laying around. Maybe Tales of the City?

The Mysterious Benedict Society and the Perilous Journey by Trenton Lee Stewart

Rhonda gestured toward the box. "What happens to Mr. Benedict and Number Two depends on that," she said grimly. She sounded if she still couldn't believe it, and indeed, as if speaking to herself, she repeated in a whisper, "Everything depends on that."

The children moved closer. It was an ordinary-looking box, about the size of a fruit crate, with several holes punched into it. Together they peered through the holes into the box's dark interior, anxious to see just what it might be - what the box might possibly contain that would determine the fate of those they held so dear.

It was a pigeon. Only that. A pigeon.

-The Mysterious Benedict Society and the Perilous Journey

To begin, I must say that I wasn't sure if I wanted to read this book. I had mixed feelings about the first book in this series, and I've learned that there are too many wonderful books in the world to waste time on mediocre ones. I was fully prepared to put this down after fifty pages if I wasn't engaged.

Well, guess what? I was utterly engaged by page fifty, to the point where putting it down didn't even cross my mind. I finished it up at jury duty yesterday, where the lively adventures of the Benedict crew helped to move the morning along a little faster. To enjoy reading it so thoroughly was an excellent surprise.

At the end of the previous Benedict Society book, the kids had thwarted the evil plans of Ledroptha Curtain, but he and his minions had managed to escape. When Perilous Journey begins, the kids have been out of danger for some time - but also out of adventure. Sensing this, their kindly benefactor, Mr. Benedict, arranges for them to go on a worldwide tour that will have them solving clues to get from one location to the next. Unfortunately, before they can begin, Benedict and his trusty assistant, Number Two, are kidnapped by the nefarious Mr. Curtain.

Stymied by Curtain's request that they give him information about a mysterious plant to secure their friends' release, the kids decide to embark on the trip Mr. Benedict had planned for them, hoping that his clues will at least lead to his last known location. Thus begins the titular perilous journey, which involves a lightning fast boat, a train, bicycles and even a seaplane.

One of the reasons that I found this book more appealing than the last lies strictly in the plot. In the original book, the kids infiltrate the mysterious school that Curtain has set up to train his associates. I found that it felt a bit recycled (Hogwarts by way of 1984, perhaps), while simultaneously feeling too clever by half - as though Trenton Lee Stewart were trying to jam in every bit of quirk and wonder he could think of, which left it entirely too quirky but not particularly wondrous.

The adventure of Perilous Journey moves along more quickly and doesn't get bogged down with school politics or the endless bouts of discussion and Morse code in Reynie and Sticky's bedroom. It's quite fun to let the clever and resourceful Benedict kids out into the real world, eliminating the claustrophobic element of keeping them cooped up on an island with their arch-enemy and all his henchmen. Okay, so they end back up on an island with their arch-enemy and his henchmen in this book, too - but it's much, much cooler. And may I say, the Ten Men (said henchmen)'s delightful way of speaking is exactly the kind of whimsy mixed with danger that you want in villains. ("'Now why would you do that, muffin? Why would you want to make old McCracken angry?'" for example).

The characters have become more nuanced in this second outing as well. Reynie, who has mostly been known for being clever and good, has become suspicious based on the events of the last book. He's finding it difficult to trust people, an interesting and realistic development. Sticky has become more confident as a result of his work in the last book, but has carried it too far, and has consequently developed an unfortunate habit of showing off his copious knowledge. He knows it, too, and finds it embarrassing and difficult to control. It will be interesting to see how these characteristics develop in the third book, due out in October.

Up next: Julie & Julia. I suspect I may go on a mini-spree of food-related books, in fact, based on what else I have sitting around my apartment.

The Mysterious Benedict Society by Trenton Lee Stewart

"I shall read now the names of those who passed the test," announced the pencil woman. "If your name is called you will advance to the third stage of testing, so please remain seated and await further instructions. Those whose names are not called are free to go."

Reynie's ears perked up. There was a third stage?

The pencil woman cleared her throat, but this time she didn't bother looking at the paper in front of her. "Reynard Muldoon!" she called out.

On her way out of the room, she added, "That is all."

-The Mysterious Benedict Society

Well, I'm back after another little foray out of town, which gave me some quality airport reading time with The Mysterious Benedict Society. It's a book I'm feeling ambivalent about, so it should be interesting to see how this post goes.

When I first spied Benedict at the Tattered Cover bookstore in Denver last year, I was intrigued. It looked like exactly the kind of book I would have adored as a child. Benedict tells the story of Reynie Muldoon (I know, believe me), a smart, lonely kid who comes across an advertisement promoting an opportunity for exceptional children. This leads him to the series of tests (where the excerpt above comes in) and to a new group of companions who all have their own extraordinary talents. These children come together to fight...well, it's nothing good. It involves something called The Emergency. And a cunning adversary called Ledroptha Curtain.

Yes, Stewart has an affection for twee, overly worked names. Curtain I actually don't mind so much - he is the villain in a children's book, after all. Reynie is a bit much, I think, especially when one of his newfound friends is named Sticky. Oh, well, his real name is George - George Washington, that is. Sigh.

There's a fine line in children's literature between the clever and the overly precious. In Benedict, the names just happen to be a good example of how one can push it a bit too far, in my opinion. There's a reason Harry Potter is not named, say, Aloysius Bloom or similar. To me, Reynard Muldoon doesn't sound like a name. Well, maybe for a soap star.*

But how about the plot? About 100 pages into it, I was getting a bit worried. I certainly wasn't invested, and the sequel was already sitting on my bookshelf. At about 150 page mark, I started getting more interested, and I will say a couple of the plot twists were pleasant surprises. Things chug along pretty respectably once the children become embroiled in their mission, but it never quite turns into a pageturner.

I don't feel as though I have too much more to say, honestly. I'm not inclined to read the sequel right away, but I did like Reynie (despite his name) and will probably get to it eventually. For now, I think I might try Blackwater, another Swedish mystery (not Wallander, though).

*It actually is strikingly similar to Reynard Muldrake, the name Jose Chung chooses as a pseudonym for Fox Mulder in the X-Files episode "Jose Chung's From Outer Space." I'm just saying.

The Battle of the Labyrinth by Rick Riordan

"Look, this is going to sound weird. Do you know anything about Greek myths? [...] All those monsters," I said, "all the Greek gods - they're real."

-The Battle of the Labyrinth

When I was a kid, I loved Greek mythology. I had a book called D'Aulaires' Book of Greek Myths that I read over and over again. If you had told me that the Greek gods were real, I would have been really, really excited. (Clearly, I hadn't thought through the ramifications of having to worship the kind of fickle deities who might consign you to, say, push a rock uphill for all eternity.)

I definitely tap into that part of myself when I read Rick Riordan's Percy Jackson series, of which The Battle of the Labyrinth is the fourth book. Percy Jackson is an ordinary kid living in New York who discovers at the age of 12 that he is the son of Poseidon. Accordingly, every summer he goes to Camp Half Blood to train himself to fight the kind of wicked monsters that populate the Greek mythological scene. Over time, he discovers that the Titans (the original gods overthrown by the Olympians) are trying to reclaim their power, and a prophecy suggests that he might be the one who has to stop them. If you're saying to yourself, "Hey, isn't that a bit of a Harry Potter ripoff?" the answer is yes, it sort of is.

Although Riordan does a great job of capturing the voice of a young teenage boy, his stories never rise to the level of Harry Potter. I've never found myself as emotionally invested in Percy's world - in The Battle of the Labyrinth this was particularly evident, as a fight plays out that is quite reminiscent of the invasion of Hogwarts in the 6th Harry Potter book. The Hogwarts invasion had me in tears; The Battle of the Labyrinth's big fight didn't resonate the same way.

That being said, the Percy Jackson series contains some interesting ideas - I particularly like the concept that having ADHD and/or dyslexia is linked to being a demigod. I also appreciate that the series is a great introduction to the characters of Greek mythology, and Riordan showcases a lot of them. Kids reading The Battle of the Labyrinth, for example, become well acquainted with the story of Daedalus. There are also a host of entertaining (and occasionally surprisingly complex) characters, including Nico di Angelo, the tormented son of Hades, and Grover, a satyr who embarks on a quest to find the god Pan.

One quick note: In an earlier post, I extolled the virtues of reading YA books while travelling. Well, I took The Battle of the Labyrinth to read on the train this weeked. My neighbor was reading The Yiddish Policeman's Union. The man across the aisle was reading Slaughterhouse Five. I was definitely dragging down the row's standard for highbrow literature.

The Westing Game by Ellen Raskin

Who were these people, these specially selected tenants? They were mothers and fathers and children. A dressmaker, a secretary, an inventor, a doctor, a judge. And, oh yes, one was a bookie, one was a burglar, one was a bomber, and one was a mistake. Barney Northrup had rented one of the apartments to the wrong person.

- The Westing Game

A couple of weeks ago, I started thinking about some of my favorite childhood books. These were books that I read time and time again as a kid, but I hadn't read any of them recently. This was impetus enough to take my first trip to the lovely Books of Wonder. (Don't be put off by the overly busy website; it's everything you could ask for in a children's bookstore). I bought The Westing Game, as well as From The Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler*.

My first concern was whether or not The Westing Game would hold up. For those of you who missed this one in your formative years, the book is a puzzle: some mysterious party has arranged for a particular group of people (described above) to reside in the newly-built Sunset Towers. Not long thereafter, local multimillionaire Sam Westing is found dead. His will names most of Sunset Towers' residents as his heirs, with the stipulation that they must discover who took his life to win the inheritance. In teams of two , the would-be heirs take their clues - words written on Westing Superstrength Paper Towels - and attempt to solve the puzzle.

Overall, I enjoyed the book. It's not quite as sophisticated as it seemed when I was a child, and its age shows a little more, too. At the time, it was the rare children's book that assumed you could handle seeing adults as imperfect - they made mistakes and had petty grievances; they could be insecure or sad or obsessive, and that was part of life. When you're still in a stage of your life in which adults are the be-all and end-all of knowledge and authority, that's almost revolutionary.

For instance, take Angela Wexler, the beautiful and well-loved bride-to-be who struggles with both her beauty and her impending marriage. I remembered finding her character and her motivations somewhat perplexing when I read as a child. Without spoiling Angela's story, I will say that, as an adult, it's easier to understand that someone could seemingly have it all and still be wildly unhappy. For a child, it's harder to grasp, but I appreciate that this did not stop Ellen Raskin from conceiving of Angela as she is. If The Westing Game had been populated with two-dimensional stock characters, the mystery could have seemed a bit gimmicky. As it is, the twisty plot and nuanced characters suit each other well. I mean, it didn't win the Newbery Medal for nothing.

I think recommending a children's book can be a bit tough. If you didn't read it as a child, I don't know if you could ever fall in love with it the same way a child does. On the other hand - why not give it a try? It's certainly a lot of fun; it would be a great airport or beach read (plus it's super slim - my version is only 185 pages, although the print is quite small).

*I re-read From The Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler before starting this blog, so I probably won't review it, but while reading I was struck by how influential this book possibly was to me. I mean, a girl who stays at the Met and falls in love with a statue by Michelangelo? It's possible it made more of an impression than I would have guessed.