[sample sip.] Nijkamp, Marieke: This Is Where It Ends

sample sip. is a tagline for the knee jerk, i can't wait until the release day thoughts i have right after finishing an arc. it is not a full or final review. nothing is full or final here. except for my patience with myself.

Hitting Shelves: January 2016 (yes, i'm way ahead of the game with this one)
Sourcebooks Fire

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.

Now, I admit to being a wee bit, shall we say, testy, when it comes to Tumblr tags.

Well, more like, commonly used Tumblr tags.

(Which to say, if you use the words, guys why aren't we talking about, or its twin, can we talk about, or THIS NEEDS MORE NOTES BOOST BOOST BOOST - I will reach for my teacup, take a soothing, silent sip with my eyes firmly clenched shut.

And scroll by.

No. I'm kidding. I just do that for the Benedict Cumberbatch posts now.

Goodness only knows that man doesn't need my boosting.)

But, my knee-jerk, first things first thought on closing This Is Where It Ends could be summed up in three words.

"I'm not okay."

And that, I think, is okay. Because this is a book that ends on a note that you should absolutely, 100% not be okay with.

This Is Where It Ends is deeply, darkly visceral and gripping. It takes you by the throat and tugs you downward into emotional compromise and utter panic. It all too realistically portrays every parent or guardian's nightmare and the event that every student cannot imagine occurring on their campus, to their friends, in their lifetime.

In the span of 54 minutes - just 54 - every student and faculty member present in the auditorium of Opportunity High School, Alabama, is fighting for their lives against one boy, one of their own. Only now, instead of being their brother or classmate or ex-boyfriend...

He's the boy with the gun.

I mean, the summary alone should tell you what's coming. I'm not sure how I still was so detached from what was coming at the very beginning, but Marieke makes sure to acclimate you to the assembled cast. They are ordinary, wonderfully diverse American teens. They are bored by the principal's default sermon to usher in the new semester, worried about younger siblings or fraying relationships or trouble at home.

They are all expecting to stand up, gather their belongings and file off to their relevant classrooms.

And that's what starts to drive this home, as things go from bad to...I don't know, is there something past utterly wrong and tormenting? What frightens us about a school shooting is that it can happen anywhere. On my campus, we talk in orientation about what we should do, where we should go, who we should listen to. We're introduced to the emergency phones, the fire escapes, the concept of being calm, quiet and orderly no matter what catastrophe has us in its clutches.

But there's a difference between hearing about that and being thrust headlong into it.

And, though everyone in This Is Where It Ends reacts differently, I had to tear up and press my fist to my mouth for all of them. Because you never know how you will react. You never know what action may be the last you take on - even if it's something that will make you a hero.

The narrative is beautiful, equalizing and real. I gave a particularly watery smile in a moment where Tomas and Fareed, best friends and brothers no matter what - in a situation where it truly, deeply counts and cuts into you - are doing their best to rescue their classmates, friends and siblings.

Even in that moment, waiting for some sort of outside help and trying to form a solid strategy, Tomas spares a thought for Fareed and how, with his Afghani heritage, accent and Muslim faith, he may seem a threat to the police officers rather than a hero:

Next thing, they'll mark him as a suspect. It wouldn't be the first time. Things happen in the school, and he gets questioned, even when it doesn't concern him at all. I hate it.

You know me. Even when my heart is in my throat and I'm turning pages as fast as I can without cutting myself, I've got that eye for Muslim representation.

I found myself getting very reluctantly attached to all the teens, but Fareed in particular had me closing my eyes and telepathically wiring messages to Marieke's brain: Marieke, I love you. You wouldn't do this to me, right? ...Right?

(For all the scientifically minded, the fact that Marieke has shown no sign of receiving said messages concludes that we have yet to break the telepathic barrier.

Or maybe it's just me and you should get a better test subject.

Anyway - and avert your eyes, because this may or may not be a spoiler! - she didn't do it to me. She's evil. But not that evil.)

I think the thing that hit me the hardest about This Is Where It Ends is that skillful blend of tragedy and hope, darkness and light. Some of it felt a little strange to me - a first kiss in the middle of worrying over a wounded, potentially dying sibling, for instance - but I'm holding off on the judgey side because, again, who the heck knows what they'd do in a particular situation when they don't know what else is going to happen?

I certainly don't. And I have plenty of witnesses that can confirm that I don't claim to know everything. Okay? Okay.

But, overall...the ending. It just catches in your throat. Nothing is going to be okay. I started the preview off on that note. I'm telling you right now, guys. Nothing is going to be okay.

Newtown happened. The Aurora shooting happened. Columbine happened. Everyday, there's something vicious and violent that bites down into our world and rips families and friends and loved ones apart, leaving us to grieve with no proper answers and no promise that we'd ever feel whole or healed again.

It's not okay. It's never okay. But one way or another, we will never forget. And we will never lose hope.

"We will remember them tomorrow. We will remember them for all our tomorrows. And there will be many tomorrows; there will be thousands of them. So let's make them good ones. We are Opportunity, and we will not be afraid.

We are Opportunity, and we will live."

Full review to come. 

I will warn you, though, since Ashleigh Paige warned me...there will be tears. Lots of tears. Invest in a nice, sturdy, loving box of Kleenex. You'll thank me later.

[sample sip.] Ness, Patrick: The Rest of Us Just Live Here

sample sip. is a tagline for the knee-jerk, i can't wait until the release date thoughts i have right after finishing an arc. it's not a full or final review. nothing is full or final here. except for my patience with myself.

Hitting Shelves: August 27, 2015
Walker Books

What if you weren’t the Chosen One?

What if you’re not the one who’s so often the hero in YA fiction; who’s supposed to fight the zombies, or the soul-eating ghosts, or whatever this new thing is, with the blue lights and the death? What if you were like Mikey? Who just wants to graduate and go to prom and maybe finally work up the courage to ask Henna out before someone goes and blows up the high school. Again. Because sometimes there are problems bigger than this week’s end of the world and sometimes you just have to find the extraordinary in your ordinary life. Even if your best friend might just be the God of mountain lions...

Well. This was a wild ride from start to finish.

Before I start off with the rambling, I'm going to do something very unconventional. Not that anything I've written here has ever been conventional. I'm dedicating this post, like it's a finished manuscript or something I plan to publish.

I'm all full of feels right now, you see, and it feels appropriate.

In the middle of finals and BEA prep and goodness knows what else is currently slipping my mind, I owe my even taking a break and reading this title to my best friend Moira. She asked me if I'd heard of The Rest of Us Just Live Here, I admitted that I'd just been approved for an e-ARC, and for the first time since I first started attending BEA and actually called her at one point while waiting in line to meet Libba Bray, just to ground myself in the midst of all the...BEA-ness, she asked me if I could bring a copy back for her.

Just this ARC.

You guys, Moira is the Jared to my Mike. Or maybe, the Mel to my Mike would be more appropriate. She's like family, and she's better because I got to choose her. (Let's just ignore the fact there are fundamental differences between me and Mike, and Moira and Jared. You get the idea.) She's my voice of reason, the one who often uncurls me when I've become a fisted wad of anxiety. So, far be it from me to deny her a future possibility of an ARC for review when I had a copy on my Kindle.

So I started reading it right then and there.

And thus, it's all Moira's fault. Like most things are. Including this blog.

Now, first things first.

I am a ridiculously picky contemporary reader. I've talked about this in other posts and I think at least one guest post and to the air in front of me, but ever since I was actually a teen (like, circa 2007-ish), it's been really hard to whet my reading appetite with anything that wasn't fantasy or historical or involved dragons and heroines with shiny swords.

That said - The Rest of Us Just Live Here is the first book to have me hanging on every word since probably How to Say Goodbye in Robot.

(How to Say Goodbye in Robot is the holy grail of contemporary favorites for me. It hasn't been knocked off its pedestal yet).

You can probably already tell by the summary, but Patrick Ness is a pretty cool sort of author-guy and he decided that writing about the Chosen One(s) isn't as exciting as writing about all the people who have to deal with living in the same world as the Chosen One(s) and their invaluable quests/prophecies/what have you.

So, we're in a small town in the state of Washington, where there are vampires falling in love with humans and vice versa and kids being chosen to save their world and the school constantly being demolished by some catastrophe or other...

And we're following the lives of a group of friends who are discussing the new boy in class and their homework projects and graduation.

It's like being in Forks and not having it be all about Bella. (Seriously, this town reminds me a lot of Forks, which I'm not sure was meant on purpose or not.) Or, maybe, being at Hogwarts and not getting to hear about the Golden Trio except in snatches of rumor and third-person eyewitnesses - if Hogwarts were a high school where indie kids are the ones constantly having brushes with danger and everyone else tries to look out for themselves and worry about the important stuff like, you know, that big argument with a parent and anxiety over life as we know it and painful, deep, unrequited love.

As if that wasn't juicy enough in the best way, the chapter headings. I could write a whole, full review on the chapter headings. Just try me.

(I'm already sitting on my hands because I'm trying to remind myself that this is a placeholder review and a reminder to myself to actually review the whole thing when it releases for once, and I really want to because I was so fascinated with the possibility of discussing nitty-gritty details and I might even do a trial vlog for you guys, that's how hyped up I am.)

To me, the biggest selling points you can use on someone to recommend this book are the little "meanwhile, back in the fraught life of our current Chosen One" intervals you see in every chapter heading (it's the greatest thing), and the dialogue. Ness absolutely has his teen speak down and it's all very real and there's humor and there's also angst (though some angst was more hard-hitting to me than others, but remember that I'm not and have never been a teenage boy, so it might be very powerful for them) and as a result, some of the lines in this title are solid gold.

"Which Finn?" my sister says. "Aren't all the indie kids called Finn?"

"I think there are a couple Dylans," Henna says, "and a Nash."

"There are two Satchels, I know that," I say. "A boy Satchel and a girl Satchel."

(I'm sorry if no one else thinks that's worth a few karats. But I did. You can chalk it up to finals taxing my nerves, if you want.)

And, if all of that wasn't good enough, there's diversity. I guess some people would call it "casual diversity". I call it life. Henna's biracial. Jared's half-Jewish. There are enough people alluded to, here and there, for you to know that THIS IS REAL LIFE AND THERE ARE DIFFERENT, REAL PEOPLE HERE.

There are also discussions about eating disorders and OCD and anxiety and how it feels to constantly want reassurance and feel like a needy, greedy mess because of it. I totally felt that, and I'm saving the quote that made a lump rise in my throat for the actual review, because I'm going too far here already.

And, just so no one comes after me with the pitchforks once they get a copy of this and say, "You really oversold this one in that ARC sneak peek/reactionary "I just came home from university and sat down and wrote this in half an hour when I should have been studying" post of yours, Kaye!"...

You know what, guys? It's not positively perfect in every single way. I can admit that, and that might just be my bias as a picky reader. I'll have to talk with you about all of this and all the questions I still have and what I originally expected and how not getting all of it was absolutely okay at a later date, but I'm absolutely aware not everyone will like this.

But I think you'll find it a little hard not to.

At least a teensy bit.

(And if all of this coming from me doesn't make you at least curious?

Try reading it to the very end and seeing that nice, lovely blurb from that nice, lovely person known as Angie Manfredi. I cannot say how much I trust that lady enough. She's good people, and she's good people who knows her YA titles.

So, if you won't take it from me, take it from Angie. Who, you know, is a librarian and full-fledged professional while I'm still here procrastinating on papers and having passionate outbursts about post-colonial South Asia.)

Full review to come. 
 

{the house blend.} Rutkoski, Marie: The Winner's Curse (Winner's Curse #1)

March 4, 2014
Farrar Straus Giroux 
YA Fantasy, 355 pages

As a general’s daughter in a vast empire that revels in war and enslaves those it conquers, seventeen-year-old Kestrel has two choices: she can join the military or get married. But Kestrel has other intentions.

One day, she is startled to find a kindred spirit in a young slave up for auction. Arin’s eyes seem to defy everything and everyone. Following her instinct, Kestrel buys him—with unexpected consequences. It’s not long before she has to hide her growing love for Arin.

But he, too, has a secret, and Kestrel quickly learns that the price she paid for a fellow human is much higher than she ever could have imagined.

Set in a richly imagined new world, The Winner’s Curse by Marie Rutkoski is a story of deadly games where everything is at stake, and the gamble is whether you will keep your head or lose your heart.

If you ever want me to read anything post-haste, just mention “female-led” or “fantasy” – or better yet, both in the same breath.

My speed will amaze you.

Case in point: The Winner’s Curse. Last month, I was laid low with my annual bout of the flu and had nothing to do but languish with Kleenex and blankets on the couch, and turn to my Kindle for solace.

(Good old Kindle. It doesn’t judge if I’m bleary-eyed and wrapped up like a burrito.)

The previous day, I’d been fortunate enough to slip in as one of the 100 people automatically approved for The Winner’s Curse on NetGalley. The day before that, I’d been privy to an online conversation with Rachel Stark of Simon and Schuster, where she assured me that The Winner’s Curse would be the female-led fantasy of 2014.

See what she did there? My two favorite words, and a bug making sure that homework wasn’t an excuse. There was no way I wasn’t cracking that open when I had the chance.

So, The Winner’s Curse. It hinges on a world deeply inspired by Greek and Roman civilization. There were a few details that I found off-putting and slightly anachronistic:  character names here and there that felt too modern (for instance, our heroine’s best friend is named Jess), and ruffled dresses that didn’t seem in the mode of the togas and gowns we associate with those time periods.

However, for the most part, this is Marie Rutoski at her finest. The language remains simple and uncomplicated, and the imagery is overpowering and engrossing.

The plot itself is just as intriguing. Our heroine is Kestrel, daughter of a great general, who is expected on her next birthday to either enroll in the Army herself, or marry and start her own household. She isn’t really on pins and needles for any of it, which is why you can’t really be surprised when she breaks completely out of the mold and buys a slave – Arin – as an impulse purchase.

Let’s be honest: we all have those impulse purchases that we regret. And Arin isn’t just some docile guy who’s going to shoe Kestrel’s horses and kow-tow to her whims without a fight. He has his own dark secrets – not the least being the fact that his people, the people that Kestrel’s ilk now use as their servants and footstools, were once the ruling class, and he himself was nobility.

Kestrel knows she’s in over her head with him, particularly as rumors start to spread and those who are jealous of her standing start to scheme – but she can’t help where her heart draws her to.

And this, my friends, was my only problem with this storyline. As a person of color – particularly, a woman of color – I am more than aware of the historical and cultural flaws with a master-slave relationship. Even thinking of the top of my head, it is hard to picture a romance that was wanted by both parties, and would not end in heartbreak or beatings…or death.

Of course, Marie Rutoski does everything in her power to make it clear that this relationship is not easy for Kestrel as well: her reputation is at stake and Arin himself has his own agenda and potential for betrayal.

The fact that these obstacles are tossed in, as well as several moments where Kestrel has to step back and realize her privileges over Arin – and the other way around – are refreshing, and slightly relieved the uncomfortable feeling I had when Kestrel started making eyes at Arin.

Beyond the love story, though, I was really taken in by the strategy. I’m not the only one who plays video games and loves it when you really have to think about the angles you take, right? Well, the plots and trickery within The Winner’s Curse reminds me both of a really good RPG, and The Thief series by Megan Whalen Turner (which I totally love, and which I will press upon anyone who loves a good fantasy with a hint of mythology).
 
There is no knot that seems as though it could be unraveled. There were no moments when I set my Kindle down and went, “Hmm. Well, that was a deux ex machina if I saw one.”

And the ending. Guys, you know I don’t like to spoil, but is it spoiling if I just go –

!

?!

?!!!

!!!

Okay. I’m calm now. But really, the ending was what cinched the whole thing for me. I think that, even as I was gasping at the plot twists and clicking my page buttons as fast as they could go, I was still waiting for it to all come loose and end in this ridiculous, sappy “love conquers all” sort of moment.

But the ending, though. It was all I’ve been wanting in YA for like years.

The Winner’s Curse is this year’s Graceling. It’s this year’s Throne of Glass. If you guys are the types who need a gazillion comparative titles before you can be convinced to dig in, I could draw out a few more. But be sure to judge it on its own merit as well. Personally, I am hooked, and I look forward to seeing what else Ms. Rutoski has in store for us…in the sequel.

Which comes out next year.

This is why I both love and hate ARCs, guys.


Of note: Slavery. I mean, I don’t know what particularly triggers people or won’t, so if this is something that bothers you, or brings up personal unhappy memories, please be warned. There is also some violent scenes, poisons, conspiracies, discussion of infidelity, dinner parties (hey, some people don’t like those social scenes, right?) and deaths.

Batteries not included. That would be an anachronism.

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{the house blend.} Hagen, Bethany: Landry Park (Landry Park #1)

February 4, 2014
Dial Books
YA Dystopian, 384 pages

In a fragmented future United States ruled by the lavish gentry, seventeen-year-old Madeline Landry dreams of going to the university. 

Unfortunately, gentry decorum and her domineering father won't allow that. Madeline must marry, like a good Landry woman, and run the family estate. 

But her world is turned upside down when she discovers the devastating consequences her lifestyle is having on those less fortunate. 

As Madeline begins to question everything she has ever learned, she finds herself increasingly drawn to handsome, beguiling David Dana. 

Soon, rumors of war and rebellion start to spread, and Madeline finds herself and David at the center of it all. Ultimately, she must make a choice between duty - her family and the estate she loves dearly - and desire.

By now, you should probably get the idea that I’m not really the go-to girl for dystopians.

That doesn’t mean I don’t like some of them. I even wrote one, back in the day (read: back when the idea of querying a dystopian didn’t mean facing a saturated market of some pretty awesome titles). 

In any case, though, I can be swayed for some rare exceptions. I happened to place a hold on Landry Park – without looking at the genre – and when it came, I read it anyway and put my usual expectations about the genre on hold.

First off, I must give kudos where it is definitely due. One of the reasons why I steered clear of dystopians in recent years is because many seem to come from the same mode – complicated world-building, and a lot of talk and little going. 

Bethany Hagen does an awesome balance act between high society and government rebellion. The writing is very crisp, concise and descriptive. She switches between a debutante scene and a tense crowd with ease.

This is a woman who knows how to wield her pen. Bravo, Ms. Hagen! 

(I just wanted to get that out there, because if you know me, you know that words matter. A lot. I can be won over, even if the story isn’t usually what I’d read, if I’m getting some good voice and mechanics in the bargain.)

If you’ve read the summary for Landry Park, you probably saw the most confusing, and yet enticing, comparative titles ever: Downton Abbey meets The Selection.

I have personal reasons for not ever having picked up The Selection (and most of those reasons go hand-in-hand with me not being the type of girl for dystopians), and, surprisingly, though I’m a period drama fan, I haven’t seen any of Downton Abbey.

But, unlike The Selection, I do have a gist of some of the scandals and sob scenes that do go on in good old D.A. (*cough cough* Lady Mary Crawley *cough*), so I can tell you that this title – as odd as it sounds – is legit.

Let’s get down to the meat of Landry Park. Our heroine, Madeline Landry, is a heiress in a futuristic world where the gentry flourishes. Madeline wants her chance to flourish, too, through a stint in university, but her father would rather her settle down ASAP, and have some grandkids to inherit their wonderful lineage. 

(I did wonder how Daddy Dearest expected Madeline to know how to manage the estate without proper schooling. It wasn’t as though she was asking for a million-dollar yacht or anything that required money going down the tube for good.)

Anyway, through a twist of fate, Madeline gets tossed into a scandalous situation which involves her being taken out of her comfort zone and seeing that there are other people involved in her glorious world – the Rootless, or the poor class. 

This is the main part that stuck in my gullet. I know that this is something that happens in real life – rich girl suddenly realizes a compassion for the ‘little people’ and goes all savior and visits Africa and talks at Oscar speeches about how ‘helpless’ the people are – but it doesn’t make Madeline’s “I am a hero of the poor” savior mode less offensive, or easy to swallow.

I know there are people who genuinely give their lives for others, and I appreciate every one of them. But the fact is, Madeline doesn’t come off that way. She feels like she’s forcing it, and, compared to the romantic subplot that I’ll be pointing my (figurative) laser pointer at in a few sentences, it’s more of a hobby than an actual burning aspect of her motivations.

It didn’t make me hate her – but my like-o-meter did go a teeny bit down.

So I mentioned that we do have a Matthew Crawley for our somewhat Lady Mary (a.k.a. Madeline), who is referred to as David Dana within Landry Park’s parameters of fiction.

David seems pretty into Madeline when they meet, but then he makes a point of debuting – a.k.a. pretty much stating his intention to court and eventually marry – Cara, Madeline’s sort of childhood friend, who also has brought Madeline into the Rootless drama by accusing a Rootless man of attacking her and bruising her.

Well, fine. That would make a girl look elsewhere, right? Except that Madeline cannot let it go. David makes an overture. Madeline sways toward him. Enter Cara, giving them suspicious looks. David switches his affectionate overtures to her.

To me (even though it all ends in the requisite ‘I do have feelings for you’ and dumping of the other girl, who thankfully was glad to be dumped, and I don’t blame her), David was a right cad. I couldn’t find it in me at all to see him as the dashing hero, and, like Madeline’s involvement with the Rootless, his enthusiasm for helping them just really rubbed me the wrong way.

Beyond these aspects, though, I can definitely give Landry Park its fair amount of recognition for an engaging and desperate climax. The bad guys get theirs, a shocking family secret comes to light in true period drama tradition, and – yes – there are the appropriate confessions of love and not really being in love after all and coupling off.

Like I said, I’m very rarely swayed by dystopians. Landry Park was an entertaining read, but overall, not the weight needed for my personal scale to lower to the right side – but, my appetite was whetted by Bethany Hagen’s writing and her creativity, and I look forward to whatever else she will have to offer.

Of note: Attempted assault, child abuse on the part of a parent, some tense action scenes and one awful attempt of violence and coerced poisoning on a child that did bother me a little bit. Nothing dirty to stain your pretty gown, though.

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