Grace by Elizabeth Scott

Grace has grown up among the People.  The People stand opposed to Keran Berj, and his control over all things, including the land.  The men of the People become Rorys, soldiers who fight Keran Berj's guard, and the women follow them from camp to camp.

Some girls, like Grace, are chosen to become Angels.  The Angels study the ways of those who live in the cities, and of Keran Berj, until they carry their bombs to the cities and die, destroying the enemies of the People with their death.  However, Grace, who had an outland mother, did not die as an Angel should, and now she is running from Berj's guard and a people who wish her dead.  Accompanied by a mysterious boy, she takes a train that will carry her beyond their reach.

While I am not a fan of Elizabeth Scott, I will concede that she knows how to convey a lot of information in a very little amount of space.   This book is exactly 200 pages,  and Scott doesn't waste a lot of time with setup or explanations.   In a way, I feel this is one of the weaknesses of the book, I would have liked a little more background about the People, and Keran Berj's dictatorship.   I would have particularly liked more information about the Angels, who are kept both sheltered and exposed to the outside world.  

Maybe I've read too much dystopian fiction, but nothing about this book felt particularly fresh or original to me.  Many of the major touchstones  in the book -- suicide bombers, children informing on parents, secret police -- felt as thought the were taken from other fiction.  Scott does combine these elements well, but the Orwellian overtones are impossible to ignore.

As for the plot, there wasn't much.  This is very much a character study.  What plot there was was flawed.  I don't think it held together all that well.  The major hole -- how did Grace, a girl of the People, know an underworld contact who could smuggle her out  -- is never addressed.  As most of the book is told in flashback, this bugged me throughout the narrative.  

Kerr, Grace's mysterious companion, has his own backstory, his own reasons for running.   For fear of spoilers, I won't reveal who Kerr is or why he wants to leave, but held up to the light, I'm not sure his story holds up.  

This is a fast read, and teens who are put off by the length of other dystopian stories might enjoy this book.  The lack of plot, and focus on characterization will turn off many reluctant readers.  

Hype and the Law of Diminished Expectations

This post started out as a review of Ship Breaker by Paolo Bacigalupi.  


In a nutshell:  I liked it, it was good.  It was fast paced, well-written, did some very tidy world building and had an interesting take on the whole science-fiction dystopia trend in YA Lit. 

However, it wasn't great, I had issues with the central conflict, didn't really care about the two main characters and ended awkwardly.  Overall, it just didn't rock my world.

That being said, I walked away from Ship Breaker profoundly disapointed, and I've come to realize, the disappointment had nothing to do with the quality of the book, and everything to do with the hoopla around the book.

Ship Breaker is darling of the YA Lit Universe.    It's considered a strong contender for the Printz, its been shortlisted for the Cybils.  Many bloggers and critics consider it the best YA book of the year.

So, what's wrong with me?  Why did it disappoint me so?

I think that this book suffered from what I have coined "The Law of Diminished Expectations."

While I'm still working out the bugs in the theory, it goes something like this:  The more an artistic product is hyped, the less impressed with it I will be when I see it/hear it/read it.

With Ship Breaker, I first read about it on Reading Rants back in May 2010, this was shortly after it was released.  In the intervening 7 months, you couldn't avoid the praise for this book.  So, by the time I finally got my hands on it, I was expecting something transcendent.  Something world-moving.  A true monkey-touch-the-monolith moment.

And of course, I didn't get it.  I got a good, but flawed story.  And that's fine.  But I also felt let down, and somehow, personally insulted.  And, dear reader, that got me thinking.

I don't know if it's our hyperbole rich society, chronic and serial bandwagon jumping, or just the sheer number of opinions available in our plugged in world, but it's become increasingly easy for any artistic product to get drowned in a sea of rhetoric - both positive and negative.  This isn't a new observation, but I had never considered how much damage positive buzz could do.  A pile-on of fawning reviewers, bloggers and Facebook commenters can negatively skew my perceptions of a book as much as a group of trollish naysayers.  Maybe more, as relentless boosterism sets up an expectation that can never be met.

As a professional, I can't unplug myself from the YA Lit-o-sphere, and retire to a lovely cave somewhere with a Diet Coke and form completely uninfluenced opinions.  Nor, do I think I want to.  It's part of my job to keep a watchful eye on the trends and chatter surrounding my field.  Also, I have honestly come to respect and depend on blogs, comment boards and other feedback sources.  

But I will have to come up with a way to remain aware of the impact those sources have on me and my opinions, both good, and bad.

Amigurumi -- A new obsession.

So, as part of the big slump.  I taught myself to crochet.   


I'm sure there's  a deep psychological reason for why yarn and knots and loops and patterns appealed to me at this time, but I'm too lazy to get into it. 


Let's just say I was a little obsessive about it.  Particularly when I discovered amigurumi 


According to Wikipedia, amigurumi is the "is the Japanese art of knitting or crocheting small stuffed animals and anthropomorphic creatures."  O.K.   All I know is even my cold, black heart melted when faced with the yarn-based cuteness of something like this.  

I made him, from a book called Creepy Cute Crochet by Christen Haden (a.k.a. NeedleNoodles).  This was my first "real" crochet project, which should tell you something about me.   

The thing about amigurumi?  It's compulsive.  You can't make just one.  So I made more.  And more.  And more.  Now, most of them will be leaving my house as holiday gifts, but I have no doubt that I will make more to take their place.  I've made zombies, and aliens, and cats and snitches and....

As I complete my little yarn friends, I'll post them here.  For no other reason than I think that they're cool.  

The Grimm Legacy on Book Obsession

Hey Ya'll --

I have a new post up on the blog from my day job -- http://bookobsessiongpl.blogspot.com, on The Grimm Legacy by Polly Shulman.

There need to be more books about library pages...

How I Lost My Sparkle -- or Why I Quit Posting Here.

So, around the middle of August, I sort of quit.

Not just posing on this blog, but lots of things.  I quit exercising, I quit watching what I eat, I quit reading anything new, I quit caring how I looked, I just sort of ... quit.  

I was coming off a successful, but busy, summer at the library.  The popular perception is that summer is a lazy time, but this is not true for Teen librarians.  Summer, and the related programming, is when we kick it into high gear.  In August, when it all ends, I would typically take a deep breath and look forward.

But this year, I didn't.  I couldn't.

My department lost both of it's managers -- the boss and the boss's boss -- within two weeks of each other.  We went from being a department of 8 people to a department of 5.5, with no change in workflow or open hours.  That meant a lot more responsibility, a lot less down time.   Also, you may think you'd get a lot more done without a supervisor, but trust me, you wouldn't.  Because without somebody in charge, everything -- and I mean everything -- must be discussed by everybody.  Decisions by committee are the worst kind.

Also, my library lost all of it's pages at the start of new fiscal year.   Which means that everybody else had to take over shelving and circulation duties.  Understand, I don't think that I'm too good to shelve a cart.  I worked as a page in college and high school.  But, as a degreed professional, it is a little demoralizing.  My professional work -- webpage, readers advisory, programming, mentoring, etc. -- built up, whilst I was busy alphabetizing, doing the same minimum wage job I did as a 17 year old.

Adding to my general malaise were some professional bumps.  My book was done, but there were delays and rewrites and indexing and ... let's just say the cursed tome didn't go down without a fight.  Towards the end, I would have been happy not to look at graphic novels for a long time.   I had applied for a promotion within my library, and even though I "knew" snowballs in Hades had longer odds, I still hoped.  So when I didn't even get asked to interview, it hurt.  It hurt badly enough that I was ready to walk away from libraries entirely.

Writing it out like this, I suppose the malaise that gripped me isn't surprising.  Basically, I folded in on myself.  I re-read all of Dorothy Sayers.  I taught myself to crochet.  I unpacked the boxes from our summer move, and taught myself to make some recipes.  But as far as reading, or writing, or anything beyond the bare minimum of what was expected of me -- it wasn't happening.

And I survived.  I wasn't happy, really, but I wasn't unhappy either.  It would be possible to maintain a life like that for a very long time.  People kept asking me, "what's wrong" and I would shrug and mumble something non-committal.

My daughter, Miss B, is a big proponent of "sparkle."  She means literal sparkle, of course;  in her world, every outfit can be improved with sequins, there's no such thing as too many accessories and glitter is always the right answer.  But she also means something else.  For Miss B.  "sparkle" is the creative spark, the sense of adventure, the "muchness" that makes life and work interesting.  And one day, she looked at me and said "You've lost your sparkle."

The English language needs a term to describe an epiphany delivered by a 9 year old in combat boots.

She was right, I had lost my sparkle.  And I missed it.  I missed feeling like there were possibilities beyond what I could see.  I missed the sense of infinite possibility that working with teens gives me.  I missed finding opportunities to startle or amaze.  I missed my sparkle.

So now, today, I start getting it back.  And I start with this blog.  Watch this space.

Shift by Tim Kring and Dale Peck

Shift by Tim Kring and Dale Peck
978-0307453457
Crown Books

Did LSD kill JFK?  

As far as tag lines go, that is a show stopper.  And, ostensibly, that is the question that Shift, by TV producer Tim Kring and author Dale Peck seeks to answer.  It does, kind of.   As well written and compelling as this novel is, I walked away unsatisfied, confused and unsure of what the authors were attempting.  

A slightly boring upper class graduate student, Chandler Forrestal, is given LSD by a reluctant prostitute, Naz.  Naz, acting under coercion by the CIA, also takes the acid.  The drugs do something to Chandler, giving him extra-sensory abilities and immense physical capabilities.   Chandler and Naz soon cross paths with a vicious CIA agent known only as Melchior, who sees Chandler as his ticket to something else.  Cuba, Timothy Leary, the FBI, former Nazi scientists, Russian spies, high class prostitutes, and the Mafia all get mixed into the sprawling, fragmented narrative.

Hey Look -- It’s Another Scott Pilgrim Review!

So, my sweet husband took me to see Scott Pilgrim vs. The World for our anniversary.  I would make a pithy comment about the 12th year being “comics” but, for us, every anniversary is the comics anniversary.

So, Scott Pilgrim.  I liked it, I liked it a lot.  But that was pretty much a given.  What’s more surprising is the parts I expected to dislike didn’t bother me so much.  

You see, I love the Scott Pilgrim graphic novels.  LOVE, LOVE, LOVE.   I also love Edgar Wright.   I like Kieran Culkin, and Brandon Routh and Chris Evans.  I like Beck.  I like video games and 8 bit art.  So, most of this movie is in my wheelhouse.