Since I’ve been rather delinquent with my book reviews, I’d like make up for it. I’ll recommend, according to what I read, the 11 best books of 2011. That is, my faves from this year. In alphabetical order:

  1. Ash by Malinda Lo. There isn’t much good old-fashioned YA fantasy out there nowadays. There’s even less YA where girl meets girl, and falls in love. Intrigued? Ash is a gorgeous story. Kirkus gave it a starred review, saying, “Beautiful language magically wrought; beautiful storytelling magically told.” I agree. Pick up Ash if you like fantasy, fairy tale retellings, and lyrical language. I still think about the characters long after the last page.
  2. Beautiful Days by Anna Godbersen. The sequel to Bright Young Things, so read the first one. Both books have amazing voice, capturing the breathless champagne-bubbly excitement of the late 1920′s, when everything seemed possible and anyone could become someone special. Flappers, speakeasies, gangsters, secret romance, betrayal–this delicious book has it all.
  3. Beauty Queens by Libba Bray. I adored Libba Bray’s Gemma Doyle trilogy, with its Victorian girls and magic, so I wasn’t sure what to expect from Beauty Queens. I shouldn’t have worried. Beauty Queens has an amazing premise: a pageant of teen beauty queens crash-lands on a tropical island. A fantastically subversive look at our society, it manages to be funny, sexy, and suspenseful.
  4. Bloodborn by Karen Kincy. Hey, that’s me! Ahem. You didn’t think I was going to leave my 2011 book off the list? My very own second book? I love it so. You might, too, if you enjoy werewolves, fight scenes, male protagonists, and car chases. Not so sure about that? You can always try Other first, or wait for Foxfire in 2012.
  5. Chime by Franny Billingsley. Chime received 6 starred reviews. (!) I usually steer clear of books that earn heaps of hype, just because I’m afraid of disappointment, and only read them later, after the rest of the reviews come trickling in. With Chime, the reviews seem divided–this is either a book you will love, or hate. I happened to love it, with its incredibly strong voice and atmosphere of swampy witchiness, but I will warn you that the narrator is unreliable! Definitely worth a try.
  6. Dust & Decay by Jonathan Maberry. I love me some zombies! And Jonathan Maberry writes some of the best zombie MG/YA I’ve read. His first book in this series, Rot & Ruin, seemed more MG to me, but Dust & Decay treads into YA territory. Both books deal with the ethical and emotional implications of what–or who–zombies really are. How would you react to seeing a loved one become undead? And then seeing a bounty hunter desecrate them for sport? Dust & Decay stops to ponder these questions, but most of the book is action that whirls through the plot.
  7. Huntress by Malinda Lo. I read Huntress after I read Malinda’s Ash, and I liked this book even better. There’s a very sweet romance at the heart of this book–also girl meets girl, like Ash–and a good deal of fantasy adventure. Also, Huntress doesn’t take place in a psuedo-medieval England. Instead, Chinese culture inspires this world, which I found quite refreshing.
  8. I Shall Wear Midnight by Terry PratchettDude. It’s Terry Pratchett. Need I say more? Anyway, I’ve been a Pratchett-o-phile ever since I first encountered his Discworld series in my early teens. I Shall Wear Midnight, the final book in his Tiffany Aching YA series, features Pratchett’s same inimitable imagination and humor. It won the Andre Norton Award, too, if you need more convincing. I actually didn’t read the books in this series in order, though I’d recommend going through chronologically.
  9. If I Stay by Gayle Forman. Made me cry. No joke. This is a feat, I swear! I’m not a weepy person, and it takes a lot for a book to evoke sadness from me. Or, in the case of If I Stay, grief and guilt. I’m afraid of revealing too much of the premise, but let’s just say that the emotional nuances and dilemmas felt spot on to me. A lovely book.
  10. Imaginary Girls by Nova Ren SumaThis book creeped me the hell out, in a very good way. I actually wrote about this book for the author’s “What Scares You?” guest blog tour: “The dread in this book dawned on me slowly, subtly, like the delicate evocation of horror often found in Japanese films like The Ring—the original one is much creepier than the remake. I didn’t know quite what I should be afraid of, and so the dread built, and built, with all my questions about who was actually dead, and what was actually real.”
  11. Mockingjay by Suzanne Collins. I know, I know, I’m terrible. It took me this long to finish this series. Not because I didn’t like The Hunger Games, but because my to-read pile and to-do list have conspired to keep me insanely busy. Anyway, I don’t want to say too much about Mockingjay, for fear of spoilers. If you haven’t read this trilogy yet, you’re missing out on a gritty, nail-biting story that sparked the current dystopian craze. Can’t wait to see the movie next year!

Kirkus reviewed Bloodborn! I can’t share the whole thing here, but here’s a quote:

“A bridge between paranormals and boys’ realism about thugs and delinquents, reminiscent of Neal Shusterman’s Dark Fusion: Red Rider’s Hood (2005)”—Kirkus Reviews

Bloodborn keeps getting closer and closer to becoming a real book… only a little over 2 months now!

I received an ARC of Abandon from the publisher, and was intrigued enough by the premise to dive in. It’s marketed as “the myth of Persephone… darkly reimagined.”

For those not familiar with the myth, Persephone is the daughter of Zeus, King of the Gods, and Demeter, Goddess of the Harvest. While Persephone is out in a meadow, picking flowers or something, a chasm splits the earth and out rides Hades, God of the Dead and King of the Underworld. He wants her to become his bride, so he abducts her and drags her down to the Underworld. While down in the Underworld, Hades tricks Persephone into doing what a living soul should never do in the Land of the Dead–eating some of the food. She swallows about five pomegranate seeds (it depends on the retelling), and these seeds force her to return to the Underworld for that many months out of the year. Her mother, Demeter, gets so upset each time that she makes the earth barren while her daughter is gone. Hence, the seasons.

Now, before you cry, “Spoilers!” and clap your hands over your eyes, Abandon most definitely reimagines this myth. That is, even if you know the myth inside and out, the book deviates far from that story and inserts metaphors of its own. Persephone, in this case, is Pierce Oliviera, the daughter of the short-tempered CEO of a huge corporation and a scientist/philanthropist obsessed with saving the habitat of the roseate spoonbill. Not exactly Zeus and Demeter, though now that I think about it, there are some subtle parallels. And yes, Pierce dies and comes back. But there’s no pomegranate, and Hades… well, we have tall, dark, and silver-eyed John Hayden, who spends a fair amount of the book being wild and mysterious.

While reading Abandon, I enjoyed my time on Isla Huesos, a lushly described island south of Florida with deathly secrets of its own, and kept wondering when we would know more about John’s past–most of his personality is mystery. The story intrigued me with its hints of bigger things to come, but when I got to the end, the bigger things still hadn’t come. It feels like the real story doesn’t start till book two. Sigh. I’ll be checking out the sequel, though I wish Abandon could have promised less and given more. Overall, a skillfully-written story with appeal for fans of Becca Fitzpatrick’s Hush, Hush.

I’ve been thinking for awhile now that there’s been a lack of sci-fi novels in young adult, and hoping a fantastic novel would fill the void. After reading the first chapter of Across the Universe, I was convinced this novel would be it, and so I ordered my hardcover and tried not to slaver in anticipation.

So, Across the Universe arrives in the mail, and I plunge into bed with the novel in hand. It’s a gorgeous hardcover, with lots of little design details, like a reversible dust jacket with a blueprint of the ship Godspeed on the inside. Starting this book is like starting an adventure, with tantalizing clues and a map to guide the reader’s way.

We meet Amy, an Earth-born girl who signed up to be frozen in cryo for centuries, and Elder, who’s learning what he must to lead the generation ship Godspeed. Told from their alternating viewpoints, we piece together the story behind the story as they do. Well, I’ll admit that I saw a lot of the plot twists coming miles before the characters did–my fictional diet as a kid was fortified by a healthy dose of sci-fi tropes. And there were moments where I groaned at the irony or ignorance of a situation. But much of the tension in this story derives from how little the characters–and the reader–actually know, and what they must unearth along the way. It is, essentially, a murder mystery, though you don’t know it at first.

Why would I give this only 4 out of 5 stars? The ending. It came all too quickly and made it clear that this is a trilogy. I still had a million questions left unanswered. But hey, I’ll probably pick up the second book, to find out the continuing adventures of the Godspeed.

I’ve been eyeballing Anna Godbersen’s books for awhile now, but my thoughts had always been along the lines of, “Gorgeous girl in a gorgeous dress on the cover, but it’s probably far too girly for my tastes.” But then came Bright Young Things, which tempted me with the tantalizing prospect of historical fiction set in the 1920′s. I loved the idea of flappers, so I snatched some sample chapters at ALA. And began drooling for the final book, which I pounced upon in hardcover as soon as I had the chance.

Bright Young Things sparkles like champagne. Godbersen’s descriptions and dialogue are to die for, creating a vivid world of bootlegger mansions, glittering heiresses, and shadowy speakeasies in which promises are whispered. Small-town girls Cordelia Grey and Letty Larkspur leave Ohio behind with big dreams for New York City, where wealthy socialite Astrid Donal flits from party to party. There’s a teasing promise at the very beginning of the story: one of the three girls will be famous, one will be married, and one will be dead. This undercurrent of tension runs throughout the book, while fortunes rise and fall, hearts are broken, and the Twenties go out with a bang.

Needless to say, I’m now convinced that I absolutely need to pick up all of Godbersen’s other books. I’m glad I looked beyond the girl in the dress on the cover, because the writing is just as gorgeous within.

I once was a bad review aficionado. I’d cherry-pick all the most negative reviews and read them first. 1-star? Surely more useful than all the gushing 5-star reviews that didn’t say much about the book beyond, “I <3 this!!!” I preferred snarky, intelligent commentaries exploring the mechanics of why a particular character sucked or why the author was to be avoided. Books that have less mud slung at them must be better books. Right?

But.

Bad reviews and I have broken up. We’re no longer seeing each other. Occasionally, I glance at an unpleasant review of a book I just read, or even break the taboo of glimpsing a not-so-nice review of my own novel. Believe it or not, my reviewing philosophy changed before I became a published author, before I crossed my fingers and toes in the hopes that readers would love my book and not pick it to pieces in the pursuit of a snarky laugh.

Now, I’m more likely to roll my eyes at a reviewer’s attempt to cleverly eviscerate a work of fiction. To me, it’s like listening to a kid rant about the disgusting taste of broccoli. Or worse, an adult eating a cake someone baked and then publicly dissing the poor confection. That’s just rude. Sure, food critics exist. I don’t read their opinions, because I figure that if I want to know whether I’ll like a culinary creation, I’ll have to taste it myself. No amount of broccoli-haters will deter me from trying it–and loving it. And no amount of book-haters will stop me from cracking open a new novel.

If I had a book reviewing clone with identical tastes, then maybe I’d pay attention. But since there’s no Karen II who loves absolutely everything I love, I don’t see why anti-recommendations help in the slightest. You hate my favorite book? Whatever. I want a reviewer raving about the deliciousness of a new paranormal romance, so I can drool in anticipation, rather than a killjoy reviewer who stops me from trying something.

Sure, an exciting debate between good and bad reviews can make me curious about the book being fought over, but more often than not, a bad review taints my opinion of a book so that I’m hesitant to even pick it up. Because in the end, bad reviews–unless they backfire–encourage people to read less books, not more. As an author and bookaholic, that’s a fate much worse than literary gluttony. Give me recommendations any day, and I’ll do the taste-testing myself.

Designated Ugly Fat Friend. The girl who’s not as pretty or as skinny as her friends, but might get chatted up by a man-slut who wants to win brownie points in pursuit of getting laid. At least, that’s what Wesley (the man-slut) tells Bianca (the Duff). She promptly throws her drink in his face and publicly reams him, but Wesley’s words stick in her head like ugly words tend to do. And Bianca, trying to figure out why being called “Duff” hurts so much, decides that there must be at least a grain of truth to the label.

I hadn’t heard of the term “Duff” before I read this book, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t know exactly how Bianca felt, exactly why she believed Wesley even though she should have let his words evaporate, and exactly why all the frustrations in her life threw her into an unexpected “enemies-with-benefits” relationship with—believe or not—Wesley himself. What happens next? The plot goes through twists that made me scrunch up my toes in anxiety, hoping everything would work out. Expect hilarious moments of sarcasm, heaps of tension, and some of the best sex/romantic scenes I’ve read in awhile. Seriously, I was completely surprised by how much I liked the romance in this one—rather than sappy characters falling on bended knee and proclaiming their star-crossed true love is forever, we have realistic passion and understanding with all its lovely flaws. Finally! This story has provided me with a new favorite fictional couple.

I had a hard time writing this review, partly because I didn’t want to spoil the story, and mostly because I really just feel like The DUFF explains itself better than I ever could. Read it if you’re a girl. Read it if you’re a guy. Read it if you’ve ever felt like Bianca does, and I’m sure all of us have, which is what makes this book brilliant.

(The publisher sent me this ARC for review.)

If you’ve read my review for Beautiful Creatures, the first book in the Caster Chronicles series, you will know that I gobbled up that book like delicious cake. Therefore, when I discovered ARCs of Book #2 at the ALA Annual Conference, I may have squealed with glee and snatched a copy greedily. (Okay, so I did.) Afterward, I lovingly squirreled away the book as a special treat for when I finished my revisions on my own novel. That didn’t last very long.

Beautiful Darkness is 512 pages, a fact that alarms me when I consider that I read the book in two sittings. I couldn’t help myself, though, because the story wormed its way into my imagination even when I was doing mundane activities like eating cereal or watching TV. If you haven’t read Book #1, go read my review for that. If you have read Book #1, then continue reading this review for Book #2.

Beautiful Darkness satisfies my need for:

(1) Twisted magic that draws upon voodoo and curses from the Civil War. Also, twisted magic in the hands of a likely dangerous girl, rather than a ubiquitous brooding guy.

(2) Romance. But not easy-peasy, standard-issue, star-crossed “we must be together every second of our waking existences!” romance, the bittersweet kind that involves people getting pissed and not talking to each other for realistic reasons.

(3) New characters who are just as crazy fun as the last batch. Though I will admit to liking the new L better than the old L. (Shhh! No spoilers.) Just because the new L is fabulous.

(4) More exploration of the South and its patchwork of cultures. For example:”Decorating graves was another one of Gatlin’s contests–a way to prove that you and your family members, even the dead ones, were better than your neighbors and theirs. People went all out. Plastic wreaths wrapped in green nylon vines, shiny rabbits and squirrels, even birdbaths, so hot from the sun they could burn the skin right off your fingers. There was no overdoing it. The tackier, the better.” I adore paranormal fiction well-rooted in reality.

I will stop this review right here, since I don’t want to tread into the realm of spoilers, and believe me, Beautiful Darkness is chock-full of twists that you will just have to discover on your own.

(I got this as an ARC from ALA, if you didn’t see that above.)

I think zombies are hot. Well, not physically hot, considering how rotting flesh and “eeeerrreeeuuuu!” noises don’t go well with the latest in lingerie. But I’ve kept a special place in  my heart for zombies from books, movies, and video games for awhile now, and the trend seems to be at last surfacing in the mainstream. Quirky zombies are a particular favorite of mine, like the Lassie-style zombie in the dark comedy film Fido. Having a 1950′s inspired dystopian (or pseudo-utopian, in the case of Fido) setting for the zombies to frolic in also helps. And Rot & Ruin definitely delivers.

Rot & Ruin introduces us to a post-apocalyptic America populated primarily by zombies, with human survivors hiding in communities walled off by chain-link fences. Only the bravest of bounty hunters venture out into the wilds known as the Rot and Ruin. There, they hunt down celebrity zombies for fame, and ordinary zombies at the request of families seeking closure. Our intrepid protagonist, a “gee, whiz!” kind of 15-year-old named Benny, scoffs at his older brother Tom’s boring attitude toward zombies, despite Tom’s great reputation as a zombie killer. Instead Benny idolizes bounty hunters who make a brutal sport out of whacking zoms.

When Benny actually ventures out into the Rot and Ruin with Tom, however, he realizes that zoms aren’t just mindless shuffling monsters, especially when you can put names to their rotting faces. Zoms are, of course, the walking dead–but most people forget the emotional and ethical aspects of death itself.

Rot & Ruin actually got me sort of sniffly as I was reading; I was surprised by how sensitive of a book it can be. I also loved the good old-fashioned action adventure scenes, with plenty of charging horses through seas of zombies, escaping traps laid by bounty hunters, and various sword-fighting moves. I’m crossing my fingers that there will be a sequel, since the ending hints at one, because I’ll be ready to jump back into the next story and satisfy my love of zombies.

(I snagged this ARC at the ALA Annual Conference.)

Got a review in Booklist for Other the other day! I can only share a teaser, but here it is… (yay!)

“Gwen is extremely likable as the impulsive, conflicted heroine, and although Tavian is a bit perfect, their romance is a dynamic counterpoint to the suspenseful mystery.”
Booklist