Top Ten Tuesday: Top Ten Books That Celebrate Diversity

Okay. I know I've been bad in terms of keeping up with Top Ten Tuesday this year.

But how could I not toss together a post for this topic?

I know, for many, diversity seems like a fraught subject, riddled with potholes in the form of titles that you thought were good and turned out to be problematic or stereotypical and made you feel as though you offered other people a bowl of sweet-looking grapes that had moldy undersides.

I know. It happens to everyone. I checked and double-checked all the titles that popped into my mind, trying to figure out if I'd seen anything contradicting their status as a positive, encouraging YA title. If this is happening to you, too, please remember two things:

A. It's good to be able to discuss these titles, because - as a marginalized voice myself - I like being able to let people know what bothered me, so they can know to look out for and challenge those topics themselves,

and

B. It's okay to like and consume problematic media. The problems happen when you make it your business to deny their being problematic, or police other people's reactions or pain from their being problematic.

(Also, when you push forward that problematic media as representation or an educational resource, especially as someone outside of the marginalized group being problematically represented.)

Kudos to you for broadening your reading horizons and doing your best to be conscious and sincere and engaging. Here's a fist bump for you. And a piece of chocolate. And so ends my likely unwanted PSA.

Anyway. Today, I'm doing something different. Even though I signed up for a diverse reading challenge this year, I haven't been doing my best of logging my progress or even recapping what titles I planned to cover this year.

Since we're already headway into summer, I thought you might like to see five diverse titles I already enjoyed earlier this year (or am currently reading), plus five titles I haven't read yet and should for the sake of keeping up with said challenge. Sounds good? I thought so.

Of note, I did my best to focus on authors with marginalized identities and backgrounds, as well as 

(Click links to visit GoodReads and read the relevant summaries.)


What I've Read

1. This Is Where It Ends by Marieke Nijkamp (arc preview here)

10:00 a.m.
The principal of Opportunity, Alabama's high school finishes her speech, welcoming the entire student body to a new semester and encouraging them to excel and achieve.

10:02 a.m.
The students get up to leave the auditorium for their next class.

10:03
The auditorium doors won't open.

10:05
Someone starts shooting.

Told over the span of 54 harrowing minutes from four different perspectives, terror reigns as one student's calculated revenge turns into the ultimate game of survival.

Casual diversity central. It's also heart-wrenching, requires a full box of Kleenex to get through and made me scream incoherently into my pillow several times, but that's neither here or there.



2. Tiny Pretty Things by Sona Charaipotra and Dhonielle Clayton

Gigi, Bette, and June, three top students at an exclusive Manhattan ballet school, have seen their fair share of drama.

Free-spirited new girl Gigi just wants to dance—but the very act might kill her. Privileged New Yorker Bette's desire to escape the shadow of her ballet star sister brings out a dangerous edge in her. And perfectionist June needs to land a lead role this year or her controlling mother will put an end to her dancing dreams forever.

When every dancer is both friend and foe, the girls will sacrifice, manipulate, and backstab to be the best of the best.

Juicy, juicy scandals, gossip and cutthroat dancers - with an added helping of diversity! What more could you ask for? (And, like I've said before, I'm not usually the girl who likes juice outside of a cup - preferably orange, or else, strawberry kiwi.)



3. Dirty Wings by Sarah McCarry (currently reading!)

A gorgeous retelling of the Persephone myth, Sarah McCarry brings us the story of Cass and Maia--the mothers from All Our Pretty Songs--and how their fates became intertwined.

Maia is a teenage piano prodigy and dutiful daughter, imprisoned in the oppressive silence of her adoptive parents' house like a princess in an ivory tower. Cass is a street rat, witch, and runaway, scraping by with her wits and her knack for a five-fingered discount. When a chance encounter brings the two girls together, an unlikely friendship blossoms that will soon change the course of both their lives. Cass springs Maia from the jail of the only world she's ever known, and Maia's only too happy to make a break for it. But Cass didn't reckon on Jason, the hypnotic blue-eyed rocker who'd capture Maia's heart as soon as Cass set her free--and Cass isn't the only one who's noticed Maia's extraordinary gifts. Is Cass strong enough to battle the ancient evil she's unwittingly awakened--or has she walked into a trap that will destroy everything she cares about? In this time, like in any time, love is a dangerous game.

Please see my post on jewel-toned books as a genre on why I think Sarah McCarry is the best thing since apple pie. Read everything by her. Everything is a gift to diverse YA as we know it. Please and thank you.

(I'm also reading About A Girl. All the Sarah books!)

4. Everything, Everything by Nicola Yoon (currently reading!)

My disease is as rare as it is famous. Basically, I’m allergic to the world. I don’t leave my house, have not left my house in seventeen years. The only people I ever see are my mom and my nurse, Carla.

But then one day, a moving truck arrives next door. I look out my window, and I see him. He’s tall, lean and wearing all black—black T-shirt, black jeans, black sneakers, and a black knit cap that covers his hair completely. He catches me looking and stares at me. I stare right back. His name is Olly.

Maybe we can’t predict the future, but we can predict some things. For example, I am certainly going to fall in love with Olly. It’s almost certainly going to be a disaster.

This book has everything: an utterly delightful and believable narrator (who is biracial!), delicate, heartfelt prose and a wonderful author who it is an absolute pleasure to cheer for. Also, this is another of those ARCs that Mom totally stole off me and devoured and then refused to give back. If that means anything.


5. The Girl at Midnight by Melissa Grey (currently reading!)

Beneath the streets of New York City live the Avicen, an ancient race of people with feathers for hair and magic running through their veins. Age-old enchantments keep them hidden from humans. All but one. Echo is a runaway pickpocket who survives by selling stolen treasures on the black market, and the Avicen are the only family she's ever known.

Echo is clever and daring, and at times she can be brash, but above all else she's fiercely loyal. So when a centuries-old war crests on the borders of her home, she decides it's time to act.

Legend has it that there is a way to end the conflict once and for all: find the Firebird, a mythical entity believed to possess power the likes of which the world has never seen. It will be no easy task, though if life as a thief has taught Echo anything, it's how to hunt down what she wants . . . and how to take it.

But some jobs aren't as straightforward as they seem. And this one might just set the world on fire.

This totally gives me Daughter of Smoke and Bones feels, but without a lot of the problematic aspects that (though you know I adore Laini Taylor) I couldn't reconcile myself with. Also, as I mentioned before earlier this year, Melissa is a real-life heroine and maybe that will rub off on me if I keep reading her awesome words.


Coming Up Soon

1. The Wrath and the Dawn by Renee Ahdieh

Every dawn brings horror to a different family in a land ruled by a killer. Khalid, the eighteen-year-old Caliph of Khorasan, takes a new bride each night only to have her executed at sunrise. So it is a suspicious surprise when sixteen-year-old Shahrzad volunteers to marry Khalid. But she does so with a clever plan to stay alive and exact revenge on the Caliph for the murder of her best friend and countless other girls. Shazi's wit and will, indeed, get her through to the dawn that no others have seen, but with a catch . . . she’s falling in love with the very boy who killed her dearest friend.

She discovers that the murderous boy-king is not all that he seems and neither are the deaths of so many girls. Shazi is determined to uncover the reason for the murders and to break the cycle once and for all.

Yes, I haven't read this yet. Still. Yes, I know I am an awful friend. Yes, I know that this is a gorgeous, sumptuous debut (so many people who are beautiful, timely souls and have already read it gladly offer up their testimonials, in order to rub my sins further in my face). Yes, I have no excuses.

Arthur's done with me now.

2. This One Summer by Mariko Tamaki and Jillian Tamaki

Every summer, Rose goes with her mom and dad to a lake house in Awago Beach. It's their getaway, their refuge. Rosie's friend Windy is always there, too, like the little sister she never had. But this summer is different. Rose's mom and dad won't stop fighting, and when Rose and Windy seek a distraction from the drama, they find themselves with a whole new set of problems. It's a summer of secrets and sorrow and growing up, and it's a good thing Rose and Windy have each other.

In This One Summer two stellar creators redefine the teen graphic novel. Cousins Mariko and Jillian Tamaki, the team behind Skim, have collaborated on this gorgeous, heartbreaking, and ultimately hopeful story about a girl on the cusp of her teen age—a story of renewal and revelation.

This summer seems to be the summer of epic graphic novels for me. They are gorgeous, colorful and often quick but fulfilling reads and I'm not sure why I lapsed out of them. I've heard a lot of great things about this title in particular. And it even has summer in the title!

Me when I realized our library does, in face, have a copy of this. You don't know how much of a miracle this is.

3. Pointe by Brandy Colbert

Theo is better now.

She's eating again, dating guys who are almost appropriate, and well on her way to becoming an elite ballet dancer. But when her oldest friend, Donovan, returns home after spending four long years with his kidnapper, Theo starts reliving memories about his abduction—and his abductor.

Donovan isn't talking about what happened, and even though Theo knows she didn't do anything wrong, telling the truth would put everything she's been living for at risk. But keeping quiet might be worse.

I am so, so behind on reading this. I know it. You can fuss at me about it if you've already read it, if you want to. I won't mind.

 

4. The Last Leaves Falling by Sarah Benwell

Japanese teenager, Sora, is diagnosed with ALS (Lou Gehrig's disease). Lonely and isolated, Sora turns to the ancient wisdom of the samurai for guidance and comfort. But he also finds hope in the present; through the internet he finds friends that see him, not just his illness. This is a story of friendship and acceptance, and testing strength in an uncertain future.

Do you know how much it pleases me to be able to mention both Marieke and Sarah in a list?

My precioussssessss.

In a totally platonic, devoted, non-creepy Gollum way, of course.

(I love you guys. Don't run away.)

Anyway, I do have this sitting right here and even my picky sister said the cover is a dream and she wants to read it when I'm done. So there you have it.

This is what I should have told my sister and taken advantage of the situation. She doesn't respect my YA taste enough.

5. A Time to Dance by Padma Venkatraman

Veda, a classical dance prodigy in India, lives and breathes dance—so when an accident leaves her a below-knee amputee, her dreams are shattered. For a girl who’s grown used to receiving applause for her dance prowess and flexibility, adjusting to a prosthetic leg is painful and humbling. But Veda refuses to let her disability rob her of her dreams, and she starts all over again, taking beginner classes with the youngest dancers. 

Then Veda meets Govinda, a young man who approaches dance as a spiritual pursuit. As their relationship deepens, Veda reconnects with the world around her, and begins to discover who she is and what dance truly means to her. 

This looks absolutely lovely and elegant. And yes, I'm totally judging by the cover, but it's a novel in verse about a dancer! I honestly don't know why I've put this one off so much, particularly since I know so many who love this, particularly among my Desi writer friends.

{milky sips.} Hellisen, Cat: Beastkeeper

February 3, 2015
Henry Holt and Co.
MG Fantasy, 208 pages 

Sarah has always been on the move. Her mother hates the cold, so every few months her parents pack their bags and drag her off after the sun. She’s grown up lonely and longing for magic. She doesn’t know that it’s magic her parents are running from.

When Sarah’s mother walks out on their family, all the strange old magic they have tried to hide from comes rising into their mundane world. Her father begins to change into something wild and beastly, but before his transformation is complete, he takes Sarah to her grandparents—people she has never met, didn’t even know were still alive.

Deep in the forest, in a crumbling ruin of a castle, Sarah begins to untangle the layers of curses affecting her family bloodlines, until she discovers that the curse has carried over to her, too. The day she falls in love for the first time, Sarah will transform into a beast . . . unless she can figure out a way to break the curse forever. 

The other day, a good friend and I were talking about the middle grades we were raised on.

To properly describe it, I'd have to draw forward the example of that scene from The Lightning Thief, where Percy sips ambrosia for the first time and finds that it tastes like his mother's brownies - warm, fresh, soothing.

If I ever had the chance to taste test ambrosia for myself, I'm quite sure it'd taste like the books I chose carefully when I was younger: wild, deep-rooted in old folklore and enchantments, ancient and yet robust and timeless.

Not to say that I'd willingly drink down the taste of musty, pulpy paper and withering ink, as much as I love the real thing. I think it'd be more of a revitalizing tea or maybe a bracing lemonade laced with its fair share of sweet, earthy herbs that are wick to the very center, a few lumps of sugar to keep your spirits up as you run with wolves and hide in old hollows and maybe even find a new world where your winter coats should hang.

Lloyd Alexander, C.S. Lewis, Diana Wynne Jones (always, always Diana Wynne Jones) - they make up the core of my lifelong love story with children's fantasy.

And so, now, Beastkeeper.

The story drew me in as all those other books did: a young, empathetic heroine, an ancient family curse, stumbling through new circumstances and figuring out the set rules of magic with not much else than suspicious, talking animals, a questionable wild boy ally and previously untapped courage and love.

I am always won over by the promise of family devotion and love.

And lovely prose. The prose, more than anything else, made me settle down and make a nest for myself within the story.

To quote one of my own GoodReads status updates from last night (at only 30% into my e-ARC!): "I am starting to realize what a covetous creature I am. And why authors often compare themselves to ravens. I am highlighting words and perfect phrases to attempt to feather my own nest of impossible ideas. Cat Hellisen is pulling out all the stops of her mastery of words thus far, and I must enviously bow to the fact that I'm so very enchanted and my seven-year-old self is giddily spooning it all into her mouth."

(Another note I might add: I am quite picky about what goes into my nest.

I do not settle for any shade of yarn, any particular antique fork or old pocket watch or shining turn of phrase.

It has to be Just Right, like a tuning fork hitting the right frequency and jolting the rest of my heart into catching up and feeling like, "Yes, that word was meant to be right there."

Hearing from the author herself that she was very much inspired by classic fantasy, particularly Diana Wynne Jones - her favorite, Dogsbody, was also the very first I read! - and Susan Cooper also made me quite sure that she is very much my sort of people.)

Sarah tiptoed along the landing towards her parents' room and wondered what flavor silence was, and if it grew hard and brittle if you threw it away, or if people sometimes stepped on wads of discarded silence and it stuck to the soles of their shoes and made their footfalls softer.

And

Sarah tiptoed faster, the shadows clinging to her shoulders like shed ghost-skins.

Like that.

Exactly like that.

It also helps that Sarah is such a sympathetic wildwoods child. At times, I just wanted to hug her, to grasp her by her shoulders and tell her how I could see that she was trying, that she was giving it her all - in her body's strength and in her emotions - to figure out the tangled web around her family and the circumstances she was forced to shoulder merely for being born into a cursed family.

And that is something I feel children's literature can address so well: the prices paid for jealousy and hatred, how it really feels to struggle under a parent's sin and bear on as your normal world crumbles around you.

The particular details of the curse - how it devours her father and threatens her as well, even with her thinned blood and desperation not to succumb - are wrought in particularly deep and dark tones, and makes it all the more pressing for you to turn the page and find out how Sarah fares.

And now, a brief word on the ending. I am well aware that it will not be everyone's cup of tea. Approaching Beastkeeper as I did, with the understanding that fairy tales have evolved as they have, particularly with the knowledge that not every ending is happy (though, as you well know, many of these tales do and I myself am not at all averse to perfect conclusions), one twist in particular was very much expected.

Though it was still not that easy or less bitter to swallow.

To me, the entire denouement fit well with the story and the horrific curse as it stood. I won't say more and spoil it for you, but I am well satisfied with it and the hope that (to me) it offered for the characters when the curtains closed.

And, in a post-script of sorts: I just took a peek back at another middle grade fairy tale I read fairly recently, Ophelia and the Mysterious Boy. Within that review, I noted that young Kaye often had nightmares when reading particularly vicious and heart-wrenching fairy tales.

That fact and stage of my reading history still stands, and I think it's well noted that Beastkeeper will probably appeal in particular to the late middle grade and young adult set. There's a time for every story.

(As evidenced by the fact that I am positively licking my fingers post-Beastkeeper and not in a fit of torment.)


Of note: As I said before, the ending will not sit well with some. There is violence, some heart-breaking scenarios and death. There is also grizzly moments involving uncooked meat, brutal transformations (not the charming beast-to-man sequence found in Disney, mind) and a rather maddened witch or two.

I leave it up to the reader's discretion.

Waiting on Wednesday: Bone Gap

Bone Gap
Laura Ruby
Releasing March 3 2015

Everyone knows Bone Gap is full of gaps—gaps to trip you up, gaps to slide through so you can disappear forever. So when young, beautiful Roza went missing, the people of Bone Gap weren’t surprised. After all, it wasn’t the first time that someone had slipped away and left Finn and Sean O’Sullivan on their own. Just a few years before, their mother had high-tailed it to Oregon for a brand new guy, a brand new life. That’s just how things go, the people said. Who are you going to blame?

Finn knows that’s not what happened with Roza. He knows she was kidnapped, ripped from the cornfields by a dangerous man whose face he cannot remember. But the searches turned up nothing, and no one believes him anymore. Not even Sean, who has more reason to find Roza than anyone, and every reason to blame Finn for letting her go.

As we follow the stories of Finn, Roza, and the people of Bone Gap—their melancholy pasts, their terrifying presents, their uncertain futures—acclaimed author Laura Ruby weaves a heartbreaking tale of love and loss, magic and mystery, regret and forgiveness—a story about how the face the world sees is never the sum of who we are.

One of the deepest, well-kept secrets of my very pocketed literary heart: I adore magical realism.

(Well, here at least it is a well-kept secret, simply because I haven't been reviewing as I should or chronicling my stop-and-start obsession with devouring ALL the magical realism titles YA has to offer.)

I covet stories like this because they feel like they can literally sink down into my marrow: very rich, thick with potential for magic and well-spun words...The kind of story you can dwell in.

It also helps when you've been fortunate to have had wonderful conversations with the author herself and know that you'll regret it if you don't read more words produced from that creative mind.

I do not have the best luck with requesting titles from this particular publisher online, though, so I suppose I'll have to sit on my hands and wait for the release date. Which is so very, very far away. Ah, the joys of being a reader.

ETA: On reviewing the GoodReads page for Bone Gap, I note that it's shelved as a contemporary and not a magical realism per se? Perhaps I'm applying my own hopes to it and the fact that the wonderful Nova Ren Suma recommended it to me a few months ago (and just a general note that you never, ever doubt Nova's recommendations - ever).

So we'll see.

add on goodreads | visit laura ruby's website