Book reviews
This review is spoiler-free, as any plot points discussed can be learned from reading the inside of the book jacket.
[The switchblade] was his, a long time ago. It’s mine now. I’m going to carve my name into his soul. Like all of Courtney Summers’ books, Sadie focuses on the horrible things that happen to teenage girls. It begins with the reader learning about the disappearance and murder of 13-year-old Mattie. This crime leads her old sister, Sadie, to head off on her own in search of revenge. She tells no one where she is going and does her best to leave no trail behind her. The story is told in alternating sections. At times, we follow Sadie, seeing her reactions with people who can lead her to the man she believes killed her sister. Sadie is a unique character because she has a stutter that occasionally leaves her almost completely unable to speak. As she states in her internal monologue, I’m only fluent when I’m alone. While reading a character with a stutter can be a bit disconcerting at first, it didn’t take anything away from the story and, in fact, made the character of Sadie feel even more real. Due to her stutter, Sadie focuses on the ways other people speak, which helps her determine who is lying to her and who’s telling the truth. It also gives Courtney Summers an excuse to include descriptions like this: His voice sounds like a knife that sharpens itself on other people, intimidating enough that I can’t even imagine what it would sound like if he yelled. The parts of the story not narrated by Sadie are told through a true-crime podcast focusing on Mattie’s murder and Sadie’s disappearance. The podcaster, West McCray, is inspired to follow this case after speaking with the girls’ adoptive grandmother. After telling McCray about the girls and their bond, she pleads, “I can’t take another dead girl.” As a true-crime junkie, I loved reading this fictionalized version of a true-crime podcast (which was also made into a real podcast called The Girls). But the best part of this book for me was the relationship between Mattie and Sadie. I have two older sisters and six nieces and I would do anything for them, so I never questioned Sadie’s unrelenting desire to punish the man who killed her little sister. While there are many heartbreaking situations in this book (just like in every Courtney Summers’ book), the part that hit me the hardest came when Sadie finally slowed down for a few moments to think about how her sister’s death was truly affecting her. She’d taken care of Mattie for several years after their mother bailed on them, doing everything a parent is supposed to do while still being just a kid herself. She gave up her own childhood to ensure that her sister could have a somewhat normal upbringing, just to have it all destroyed. Grinding my bones to dust just to keep us holding on and when I lay it out like that, I don’t know how I did it. I don’t know where, underneath it all, you’d find my body. And I don’t care. I’d do it all again and again for eternity if I had to. I don’t know why that’s not enough to bring her back. Though Sadie is not what many would consider a “likable” character, it’s impossible to deny that she is an absolute badass. And while Sadie isn’t my favorite of Courtney Summers’ books, I still loved it and will likely read it a few more times over the years. I always forget fear is a conquerable thing but I learn it over and over again and that, I guess, is better than never learning it.
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This review is spoiler-free, as any plot points discussed can be learned from reading the inside of the book jacket.
It’s been way too long since I’ve posted a review, so I’m giving you three for the price of one tonight. I recently read three brilliant young adult novels, all of which made me cry harder than I should be willing to admit in public. These three books cover completely different subjects, but they all have one important commonality. They all portray incredibly flawed - but perfectly realistic - characters. The first of these novels is Highly Illogical Behavior by John Corey Whaley. The main character, Solomon, suffers from severe agoraphobia and hasn’t left his house in three years. Then Lisa enters his life, determined to force him to rejoin the outside world. She brings along her boyfriend, Clark, who is outstandingly attractive, but is only able to truly befriend Solomon after confirming that he has no romantic interest in Lisa. The three become almost inseparable, until one of them betrays the other two, leaving them unable to trust each other anymore. Those of you who follow my blog know that I suffer from anxiety, which is exacerbated by social situations. Because of this, I have no trouble identifying with Solomon. Whaley’s descriptions of the character’s panic attacks are exactly what I’ve experienced, and I completely understand the suffocating dread he feels at something as simple as opening the front door. As someone who feels the need to “fix” people, I can also relate to Lisa. She just wants to help Solomon (and herself, but I can’t get into that without spoilers), and she’s willing to succeed by any means necessary. Like Lisa, I also tend to get a little carried away when it comes to helping people I care about, and this often comes back to bite me in the butt. How did this book make me cry? One part of this book involves Solomon attempting to overcome his inability to leave his house because someone he loves is in trouble. I won’t say whether or not he succeeds, because that would ruin things. But I will tell you that the emotional journey he experiences as he tries to step outside the door struck me right in the absurdly small organ I think might be my heart. The second novel is Wink Poppy Midnight by April Genevieve Tucholke, and it’s one of the strangest reality-based YA novels I’ve ever read. I consider it Gone Girl for teens, because you can’t trust any of the three titular characters (side note: Who names their kids Wink, Poppy, or Midnight?), and it’s more than slightly possible that any and all of them are actually sociopaths. I can’t say much about the plot without giving away the mystery, but it revolves around Wink (the sweet, girl next door) and Poppy (the beautiful bully) fighting for the affection of Midnight (who really just needs to figure out his life and stay away from these girls). But don’t worry, this isn’t a typical love triangle, and their relationships are significantly creepier than those found in most YA novels. I’m obsessed with Gone Girl-style thrillers, so this book is right in my wheelhouse. Wink weaves a fairy tale-type narrative throughout her chapters, which adds a serious creep factor to her characterization. All three characters are written with distinct voices, so there’s never any confusion about who is narrating at any given time. Because they keep their motivations fairly well hidden, it’s difficult to know who, if anyone, you’re supposed to root for, so you kind of just have to decide for yourself. How did this book make me cry? Well, it’s possible that it’s because I’m a terrible person, but I got really attached to these characters. I didn’t care that they made each other miserable or that their goals in life all seemed to center around destroying everyone around them. I wanted them to each get what they wanted, even though I knew they could only succeed at the expense of the others. Maybe that’s what got to me; I knew that it was impossible for all three of them to end up happy, and that made me sad. The final book is Some Girls Are by Courtney Summers. Some of you might be familiar with her novel All the Rage, and let me tell you, Some Girls Are is just as painful to read. It tells the story of Regina and her fall from the top of the food chain we call high school. In one night, she goes from being one of the most popular girls in school to a social pariah because of the rumors spread by a girl she considered her friend. She no longer has any friends, her boyfriend dumped her, and she’s bullied mercilessly by people who used to adore her. Summers might be the most talented author I’ve read when it comes to emotionally torturing her characters. You experience the mental anguish right along with Regina, and it’s impossible not to empathize with her on every page. Even when she attempts to restore her own reputation by ruining someone else’s, you can’t help but believe her actions are completely justified. She’s such a vulnerable character, but at the same time it’s obvious just how strong she’s forced to become to endure what’s happening to her. How did this book make me cry? Come on, y’all. It’s a book about a teenage girl being bullied (mentally, emotionally, and physically) by the people who are supposed to have her back. And it’s all because someone else decided a lie would make a more interesting story and chose to spread it. Most people have or will deal with bullying at some point, and this novel shows the extremities it can reach. I honestly lost count of how many times I wept for Regina, wishing just one person would step in to defend her. So there you have it. If you’re looking for a page-turning, realistic, heartbreaking novel, I strongly encourage you to check out one (or all three) of these. This review is spoiler-free, as any plot points discussed can be learned from reading the inside of the book jacket.
Lizzie Lovett is one of those girls. You know the type: everyone either wants to be her or be with her. At least, that’s what Hawthorn has always thought, leading her to hate Lizzie, even after the older girl graduated and moved away. But when Lizzie goes missing during Hawthorn’s senior year, she finds herself obsessed with her former nemesis and the life she left behind. The Hundred Lies of Lizzie Lovett by Chelsea Sedoti follows Hawthorn (named for the tree beneath which she was conceived, not for the author), an outsider who refuses to think about what she wants to do with her future, through her senior year of high school. While dealing with the stress of choosing a college, fighting with her best friend, and fending off the popular girls who bully her, Hawthorn has taken it upon herself to solve the disappearance of one-time “it girl” Lizzie Lovett. Lizzie went missing while on a camping trip with her boyfriend, Enzo. Suspicion immediately falls on Enzo, as he was the last to see her. But when Hawthorn meets Enzo, she doesn’t see any hidden guilt, but rather a wounded soul, mourning the sudden loss of his girlfriend. The two team up, constantly returning to the campsite in search of clues for where Lizzie might have gone. On one of these search missions, Hawthorn confesses her ultimate suspicion: Lizzie Lovett is a werewolf and ran away so she could finally be free. This novel takes several interesting turns while Hawthorn and Enzo attempt to prove (or disprove) the werewolf theory, but I can’t go into any of those without spoiling some of the main plot points. The Hundred Lies of Lizzie Lovett contains all of the elements of a good YA novel, plus some: romance, werewolves, drunken fights, hippies in the backyard, haunted houses, awkward flirting, sibling rivalry, and so much more. But my absolute favorite thing that Sedoti does in this book is the fact that she managed to write what might possibly be one of the most accurate sex scenes in the history of young adult literature. If young adult lit is already in your wheelhouse or you’d like to start reading more YA, this is a great novel to pick up. If you’re a fan of mysteries that might have a tinge of the supernatural, give this one a try. Or if you just want a good, quick read, I highly recommend this novel. I received an advanced copy of The Hundred Lies of Lizzie Lovett by Chelsea Sedoti through NetGalley. This book hits shelves on January 3, 2017. This review is spoiler-free, as any plot points discussed can be learned from reading the inside of the book jacket.
Have you heard the parody of “Baby Got Back” in which the lyrics have been changed to “I like big books and I cannot lie”? These words perfectly describe my reading life. I love few things more than a massive hardback. The more pages the better. Recently, though, I’ve started to really get into short stories. I don’t know if it’s because my attention span is beginning to fail me or if I’ve just managed to stumble upon a few great collections, but the wall of books I’m currently reading is suddenly being populated by books of short stories. Two of these collections came in the form of Advanced Reader Copies (ARCs) from NetGalley. One Hundred Years of Marriage by Louise Farmer Smith and Rockets Versus Gravity by Richard Scarsbrook, while vastly different short story collections, have one major factor in common: the short stories contained in these collections all fit together in the end. While you could read each story as a stand-alone, the more stories you read, the more you realize that certain characters and events keep showing up. One Hundred Years of Marriage follows a family through four generations of unhappy marriages, undiagnosed mental illnesses, and unfulfilled destinies. While some stories contain more than a dash of humor (a bride forgetting her wedding dress at home and her father threatening to make her walk down the aisle in her underwear if her brother doesn’t make it back to the church with her dress in time), many of them expose the darkness of human nature (a husband tying his wife to the back of their covered wagon and beating her after the extreme isolation of the prairie renders her suicidal). Rockets Versus Gravity tells the stories of several strangers whose lives intersect due to the ever-changing possession of four rings, each of which is inscribed with “Forever More.” These characters experience deaths, first loves, lost jobs, and failed marriages, as well as the usual mundanities of life. In every story, though, the characters are either brought together or torn apart because of one of the “Forever More” rings. Like the previously mentioned collection, these stories range from humorous (a homeless woman stealing a pageant sash from a former beauty queen) to heartbreaking (a teenage girl losing her first love just before discovering she’s pregnant). Both of these collections can be used for the individual stories, or read in one sitting as a novel. I read a different story from One Hundred Years of Marriage every day, mostly because they were longer stories, but also because I didn’t realize the connections between the characters until the third or fourth story. Rockets Versus Gravity, however, I read in about two hours. Each story is about 5-10 pages long and most of them end with a bit of a cliffhanger, just to keep you interested enough to move on to the next immediately (though in many cases, you don’t learn how a certain story ends until several stories later). If you’re interested in short stories, especially ones that fit together into a longer novel, make sure to check these out as soon as they hit stores and libraries. One Hundred Years of Marriage by Louise Farmer Smith comes out on September 15, 2016. Rockets Versus Gravity by Richard Scarsbrook comes out on October 18, 2016. This review is spoiler-free, as any plot points discussed can be learned from reading the inside of the book jacket.
What would you do if you woke up surrounded by strangers who were welcoming you back from a journey you have no memory of taking? That’s exactly what happens to Jason Dessen in Dark Matter by Blake Crouch. Jason Dessen teaches university-level physics, a career he reluctantly began after he and his girlfriend (a talented artist) decided to put their dreams on hold to get married and raise their son. Now, fifteen years later, they’re both somewhat stuck in jobs that are mere shadows of the greatness to which they once aspired. At least, that’s the life Jason’s always known. After leaving a friend’s party one night, Jason is kidnapped and drugged. When he wakes up, he finds himself surrounded by strangers outfitted in hazmat suits. They’re all excited to see him, congratulating him on his success and welcoming him back. But none of them mention Jason’s wife or his son. And the more Jason discovers about these people and his own supposed accomplishment, the more he begins to realize something terrifying: This is not his world. I can’t give more plot information without some major spoilers, so I’ll stop summarizing now. For about the first half of Dark Matter, I had mixed feelings about the novel. On one hand, I’m a sucker for “what if” stories. What if Jason and his girlfriend hadn’t had their son? What if they’d never met in the first place? What if they’d gotten married, but put their ambitions before each other? This book explores all of those scenarios, as well as many more. On the other hand, science is so far outside my wheelhouse it has a different zip code. While the scientific explanations are kept fairly brief, the ones included made me go a little blurry-eyed and I would occasionally just skim past them to get back to the story. (I did feel a little sense of accomplishment when I understood the reference to Schrödinger's cat, though.) The second half of the novel, after Jason figures out what happened to him, reads like a sprint. He jumps into action in an attempt to win his life back from the people who stole it and Crouch’s writing carries the reader along at a can’t-put-the-book-down-for-a-minute pace. If you like science, I highly recommend Dark Matter. Or, if you’re like me and left science behind in the dust of high school but you’re still a sucker for a good story, trust me, you’ll enjoy Dark Matter. This review is spoiler-free, as any plot points discussed can be learned from reading the inside of the book jacket.
I’m still fairly new to the world of graphic novels, but so far it’s a world in which I love to immerse myself. The combination of gorgeous artwork and complex storylines appeals to both my inner book nerd and the part of me that always wishes I could draw (or color inside the lines). I also have a special place in my wheelhouse for female characters who don’t need anyone else to take care of them. This last item was the most important factor in my decision to read Monstress, Volume 1, Awakening by Marjorie Liu and Sana Takeda. Monstress begins after a horrible war between humans and hybrid Arcanics. Maika Halfwolf, Arcanic but with a human appearance, lost her arm and her mother in the war and now she is looking for answers and revenge. Throughout the novel, she teams up with an adorable Arcanic named Little Fox, who reminded me of Mei from Totoro (if you don’t get that reference, take an hour and a half to watch Totoro; it’s fantastic), and a two-tailed cat with a tendency to “quote the poets,” though I don’t recall any poets famously delivering the line, “We’re f***ed.” In her quest for vengeance, Maika ends up in possession of part of a cursed mask, which fills her with a “hunger” that she is powerless to suppress. While the force now residing within Maika causes her to often behave like a villain, it also might be just what she needs to save herself and her friends. (When I say it “might be,” I’m not being coy; I actually don’t know. This is only the first volume, so Liu and Takeda haven’t revealed everything yet.) Though this is my first exposure to Liu’s and Takeda’s work, they’ve possibly earned a lifelong fan through Monstress for one main reason: Maika Halfwolf isn’t always a likeable character. Some of her decisions made me want to throw the book across the room. (I refrained from doing this solely because I was reading it on my laptop and computers are expensive.) Maika also doesn’t seem to have any qualms about killing innocent characters; however, this might have more to do with the hunger residing within her than with her actual personality. Regardless of why she does what she does, the fact that Maika isn’t a perfect, typical heroine makes me love her so much more because it makes her more realistic (as realistic as you can be in a fantasy graphic novel). Another reason I’m a fan of Monstress (and most graphic novels in general), is the handling of diversity. The story takes place in an alternate universe of Asia in the 1900s where society is run by a matriarchy (and we all know I’m a fan of taking down the patriarchy, so I am all about this society). The majority of the characters are women, and not skinny, busty, blonde, white women; realistic-looking Asian women. Some of them (the protagonist included) suffer from some form of physical disability. Some of them aren’t stick-thin. Some of them are lesbians. But they all have one thing in common: All of these women kick ass. They also, for the most part, keep their boobs covered, so you can hand this book off to your teenagers without worrying that they’ll see something within it’s pages that they’ve already seen if they’ve watched almost any movie targeted at teenagers. For all of the high school English teachers out there, with some creative lesson planning, you might even be able to incorporate Monstress into your curriculum. If you’re a fan of graphic novels, I have no doubt you’ll enjoy Monstress. And if you’ve never read a graphic novel before, Monstress is a great place to start. This review is spoiler-free, as any plot points discussed can be learned from reading the inside of the book jacket.
I have a rule when it comes to books that I’m not buying: Don’t read the description. If I’m not paying for a book, I simply judge it by the cover. This has led to some interesting reads, mostly because I have no idea what I’m getting myself into when I open the book. The most recent of these “blind reads” was The Last One by Alexandra Oliva. I was browsing through NetGalley and saw a cover that was a person silhouetted against a sunset beneath the title The Last One. My first thought: “Ugh, Nicholas Sparks knockoff.” Then I thought that maybe I should read more sappy romance novels. Maybe I should give writers like Nicholas Sparks a chance. So, I sent a request for the book, though part of me was hoping my request would be denied. Boy am I glad I took a chance on sending that request. The Last One is absolutely nothing like a Nicholas Sparks’ novel, a fact I would have quickly realized had I even glanced at the plot description. No, the best way to gauge whether or not you might like this novel is to ask yourself the following questions: 1. Do I enjoy the competitive nature of shows like Survivor? 2. Do I enjoy the brief glimpses of the game makers and the idea of the arena in The Hunger Games? 3. Do I enjoy the paranoia that follows reading about a deadly epidemic like the one described in The Stand? If you answered “yes” to one or more of these questions, The Last One might just be the book for you. This book takes you inside a reality survival show called In the Dark, where all of the contestants are referred to by their occupations rather than their real names. The plot primarily follows the character called Zoo, an intelligent blonde who signed up for the show as one last adventure before settling down to begin a family with her husband. She forms and breaks alliances with several of her competitors throughout the novel, most often partnering with a survival enthusiast known as Tracker. In the real world, however, a strange illness is spreading rapidly throughout the United States, and possibly the rest of the world. With no idea what’s happening beyond the boundaries of their game, though, the competitors have no way to prepare themselves for the day they wake up alone, with no cameramen recording their every move. Assuming this is still part of the show, Zoo sets out with one goal in mind: victory. But at some point, the game and reality begin to overlap, making it impossible for her to determine what is real and what has been designed specifically for her by the show’s creators. The Last One is suspenseful from beginning to end; so suspenseful that I hope Oliva is planning to write a sequel, as the ending seemed to lack some closure. The chapters alternate between the events of the show and Zoo’s solo journey back toward the real world, giving clues as to what she might find if she survives the game. The inclusion of chat room message boards discussing the events on the show add an extra element that helps tie in the real world with the world of the competition. If you decide to give this book a chance, let me know what you think. I can’t imagine you’ll be disappointed. Unless you answered “no” to the three questions above, in which case I’m not sure why you’d read this book in the first place. This review is spoiler-free, as any plot points discussed can be learned from reading the inside of the book jacket.
When Morgan Chalfant messaged me to ask if I would read a copy of his novel and write a review of it I almost threw my phone across the room. I knew that he had a couple of books published but I didn’t know much about them other than the genre. Urban fantasy. For reasons I can’t explain, the words “urban fantasy” did nothing for me. I assumed the book in question, Ghosts of Glory, would probably be a bunch of overly-buff god-like dudes running around with their shirts ripped open, fighting over girls with boobs too big to leave any room for personality. Don’t ask me why this was the picture my brain supplied in connection to urban fantasy. I don’t understand how my brain works. Because of this preconceived notion, I avoided answering him for a few days. In the meantime, I tried to find someone with a copy I could borrow. My plan was to read the book without telling him. That way, if it was terrible, I could tell him that I was too busy to read it and then I could anonymously write a scathing review, warning potential readers away from it. As usually happens, my plan didn’t work, so I finally just agreed to read the book. Morgan sent me a digital copy, I downloaded it onto my laptop, and then I ignored it. I let it just sit on my computer for probably three months before I decided to just suck it up and read the thing. This is the part where I confess to all of you that I am, in fact, an idiot. Let that sink for a moment. Got it? Great. Moving on. Ghosts of Glory does not fit into my ridiculous idea of urban fantasy. Well, in all fairness, there was some hunky shirtlessness, but I’m not one to complain about that. The plot follows Jersey “The Brawler” Romero as he struggles to restore the city of Glory to its former...well, glory. Unfortunately, darker forces are at work, thwarting Jersey’s every attempt to save the city and her people. Despite having the Spirit of Glory on his side, Jersey isn’t the man he once was and he is constantly plagued by doubts in his own ability to succeed in his mission. This book has so many of the things I love: creepy cult leaders, supernatural creatures, destroyed cities with seedy underbellies, backstabbing, betrayal, sex scenes that further the plot rather than serve as unnecessary filler between poorly-written drivel (come on, we all know what book I’m talking about), and mythology references. All of these are right in my wheelhouse (especially the creepy cult leader thing, which definitely doesn’t make me weird), and Ghosts of Glory masterfully weaves all of them throughout the novel. So, even though I’m a little upset that Morgan’s book caused me to be wrong about something for the first time ever, I’m still going to go ahead and recommend it. If you enjoy dark stories about anti-heroes in need of redemption they may not deserve, Ghosts of Glory by Morgan Chalfant is right up your alley. But, you know, it’s probably a dark alley, so take a flashlight. And maybe some mace. This review is spoiler-free, as any plot points discussed can be learned from reading the inside of the book jacket. It also originally appeared on my old blog, which no longer exists.
“This is it: somehow, in these pictures, the mystery of the accident is contained, and the explanation for Dara’s subsequent behavior, for the silences and disappearances. Don’t ask me how I know. I just do. If you don’t understand that, I guess you’ve never had a sister.” Lauren Oliver’s Vanishing Girls is ultimately a story about sisters. Nick (short for Nicole) and Dara Warren have been close since they were little, and have spent years sharing clothes, makeup, secrets, and their best friend, Parker. But all of that changed the night of the accident. Driving home from a party, Nick lost control of her car, and Dara (not wearing her seatbelt) was thrown from the car. Months later, Dara is no longer speaking to her older sister and she refuses to engage in any public interaction, partly because of the hideous scars that mar her once pretty face, and partly because she no longer knows what to say to all of the “friends” she feels abandoned her while she was recovering. But the novel pulls in another pair of sisters. Nine-year-old Madeline Snow and her older sister, Sarah, are the subject of extensive discussion in Nick and Dara’s household after Madeline goes missing while Sarah is babysitting her. As bits of their story unfold, it becomes clear that the Snows and the Warrens may be connected in several unsettling ways. “There’s something backward about living in a place so obsessed with the past; it’s like everyone’s given up on the idea of a future.” The irony in this statement is that Nick is living much of her life in the past. All of her actions are driven by the desire to return things to the way they used to be. Before. Before Dara started dating Parker. Before Nick allowed a rumor to color her previously pristine reputation. Before Nick crashed her car. Before Dara stopped speaking to her. Throughout the book, the reader is given glimpses of the past through “Before” chapters, as well as keeping up with the present situation in the “After” chapters. Additional information is provided through chapters consisting of news articles, online discussion boards, diary entries, and letters between characters. All of these elements combine to allow the reader inside the minds of Nick and Dara, as well as seeing what is going on outside of their little world. The turning point in the story occurs on Dara’s birthday. Despite the huge surprise Nick tempts her with, Dara chooses that night to run away. Torn between annoyance at her sister’s dramatic tendencies and true fear that Dara may have been abducted by whoever took Madeline Snow, Nick attempts to find Dara. Her search leads her to discover several dark secrets that Dara would have preferred to keep buried, including her connection to Sarah Snow. As Nick is pulled further down into the rabbit-hole of Dara’s world, she begins to learn that she really didn’t know her sister at all, and she is now positive that Dara is in serious danger. I can’t say more without ruining the ending, so I’ll stop there and move on to my recommendation. In all honestly, this book took a few days for me to finish. It didn’t grab my attention from the first page, and there were a few times that I set it aside and worked on other things instead of reading. It does take some effort to get into. That being said, I blew through the second half of the book without putting it down once. And as soon as I finished it, I immediately wanted to read it again, as I was having a hard time believing the ending. Having finished it, I now believe that Lauren Oliver intentionally crawled with the beginning of the story in order to build anticipation for the sprint of the second half. So if you decide to give this book a try, don’t give up on it. It gets significantly better and will leave you considering an immediate reread. This review is spoiler-free, as any plot points discussed can be learned from reading the inside of the book jacket. It also originally appeared on my old blog, which no longer exists.
“If after reading this book you come to my home and brutally murder me, I do not blame you.” The narrator of Me and Earl and the Dying Girl by Jesse Andrews is a breath of fresh air for those of you who found Augustus Waters (of The Fault in Our Stars fame) a bit difficult to stomach. Don’t get me wrong. I loved John Green’s ill-fated teen as much as the next girl; but Greg Gaines in Me and Earl has a huge advantage over Augustus Waters. He talks like a real teenager. As much as I love to read long, flowing, beautifully-crafted sentences about metaphorical cigarettes, I much prefer to read the language of a self-deprecating teenage boy whose biggest problem is attempting to graduate from high school virtually unscathed. He’s managed to succeed so far by refusing to become part of any particular group. Instead, he floats between cliques, always treating everyone nicely enough to avoid making enemies, but never getting close enough to be considered part of the group. All of that changes when his former friend/ex-girlfriend, Rachel, is diagnosed with leukemia just before their senior year. While Greg would be perfectly willing to send her a “Get Well Soon” card and call it good, his mother has other plans. With tears in her eyes, she demands that Greg reach out to Rachel and rekindle their friendship, as Rachel is going to need someone to lean on more than ever now. After several failed attempts to hang out with Rachel, she finally, begrudgingly allows him to come over and see her. “This book contains precisely zero Important Life Lessons, or Little-Known Facts About Love, or sappy tear-jerking Moments When We Knew We Had Left Our Childhood Behind for Good, or whatever. And, unlike most books in which a girl gets cancer, there are definitely no sugary paradoxical single-sentence-paragraphs that you’re supposed to think are deep because they’re in italics.” Because I began by comparing Me and Earl to TFIOS, I’m going to continue with it. John Green weaves together the story of the beautiful relationship between Hazel and Augustus. They speak like pretentious English majors. They get to literally make their wishes come true. They get their own perfect version of a limited forever. Jesse Andrews, on the other hand, constructs the story of the painfully forced friendship between Greg and Rachel. They talk about school and movies and masturbation and Greg’s dysfunctional friendship with Earl. (I would love to make a post that focuses solely on Earl, but I don’t know that I could do him justice. He’s hilarious. If nothing else, read the book just for all of the ridiculous comments he makes.) Greg and Rachel don’t have big dreams that they struggle to achieve. She wants to not die and he wants to graduate high school without putting in too much effort. They don’t get a forever together, because they don’t want one. He starts hanging out with her because he has to and she lets him stick around because he’s kind of funny and she doesn’t really have any other friends willing to come visit her. There is so much more I could say about this book, but I’m afraid that if I gush about it for too long I’ll end up giving away something important. So I’ll end with this recommendation: If you hated The Fault in Our Stars for being too pretentious or sappy, read Me and Earl instead. And if you don’t laugh out loud at least once, I will let you come punch me in the face. (As long as you avoid the nose. It’s my one attractive feature.) And for those of you who love The Fault in Our Stars, read Me and Earl anyway. You’ll get your fix of reading about a teenage girl with cancer, but with an extra dose of reality sprinkled on top. |
Jacinta M. CarterProfessional Book Nerd Archives
March 2017
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