I got my hands on Hex Hall through an ARC swap; I’d requested the book thanks partly because of the promise of paranormal fun, and partly because so many readers who say they want to read Hex Hall also want to read my debut, Other. Hey, I thought, it must be a book up my alley!

And indeed it was. More of a snarky giggles kind of book than a laugh-out-loud satire of paranormal novels, this book appeals to my inner witch–you know, the one that’s always craved a little magical oomph with her comebacks. Sophie, our illustrious protagonist, deals out the witty repartee to all manners of creatures: werewolves, vampires, faeries, not to mention stodgy teachers, boys she’s crushing on, and evil bi–whoops, witches. Hex Hall sparkles with humor.

Despite a heavy frosting of jokes, there’s still a sprightly plot that combines the usual boarding school/teenage girl drama with more magical dangers. I will admit to not taking the Bad Guys very seriously at all, though that may have been due to the fact that Sophie doesn’t seem to, either. She’s always ready to snark her way out of something. But I’m okay with her not being too moody–while we glimpse some fear, longing, and tears, Hex Hall ultimately feels like a book that’s having too much fun to be bogged down by boring serious stuff.

When I received an ARC of Forget-Her-Nots from a friend, I peeked past its pink cover, a little unsure whether I’d connect with fourteen-year-old Laurel’s story–I usually read novels with older characters and edgier plots. After giving Forget-Her-Nots a try, I’ll say two things: (1) Yes, Forget-Her-Nots will likely appeal to younger girls, though older readers looking for a sweet story about friendship, flowers, and first romance will find this book a treat. (2) I must confess to staying up late reading it. Really late. Because apparently I’m a sucker for all three of those things.

Amy Brecount White skillfully explores the tangle of relationships between Laurel and her friends at school; I’m so glad to read a book where the main character isn’t an odd outsider who has maybe one or two equally quirky friends and constantly battles the Evil Popular Clique. While Laurel definitely has some quirky flower powers–pun intended–she spends a healthy amount of the book learning how to lovingly tend to her friendships and family as well. Also, I love how she doesn’t let romance overrule her own passions in life. Beautiful quotes at the beginnings of the chapter deepen these themes, as does poetry throughout. Finally, the language of flowers itself lends itself wonderfully to messages of compassion.

Why wouldn’t I give this book five stars? I did zip through it in two days, but I had problems keeping track of the plethora of similarly-described girls; also, there was teen slang that sounded off, and some basil-related silliness that could have been a little dealt with more lightly. On the other hand, the flower descriptions in this book sang with beautiful colors and scents. Forget-Her-Nots made me want to get up and garden. After, of course, I finished reading it.

” ‘It is a truth universally acknowledged,’ Mustardseed said, flying in lazy loops like an intoxicated bumblebee, ‘that a fairy in possession of a good appetite must be in want of pie.’ ”

Best opening line ever. You may beg to differ, but how can one not resist the fairies from A Midsummer Night’s Dream, first brought to life by Shakespeare, then given an injection of technicolor quirkiness in Mantchev’s Eyes Like Stars. And I must say, I loved Perchance to Dream even more than the first book. You’re probably wondering if you will, too. So, do you like…

…adorably rude fairies who randomly quote Shakespeare and any other play that pops into their little minds (oh, the intertextuality)?

…a no-nonsense young lady with a fab wardrobe, a quick wit, and an even quicker quill (which grants her considerable power)?

…a smoldering silver-haired air spirit and/or charmingly gruff, well-muscled pirate boy (I’m on Team Ariel, and plan to steal him all for myself)?

…a journey through fantastical lands with a caravan of quirky characters and then a troupe inspired by Cirque du Soleil (pretty, pretty descriptions)?

If you answered yes to more than one of those questions, I think that seals the deal. Go read Perchance to Dream. Yes, you may have minor quibbles with the story–I spent a fair portion of the book grumbling at Bertie to make a particular decision, but then of course if she did what I wanted her to, the plot would be derailed. Nevertheless, I’m expecting satisfaction from the third book in the series, So Silver Bright.

I was lucky enough to have an ARC of Perchance to Dream sent to me by the author herself, and I’m happy to have savored this literary treat before its official release date of May 25. For those who must wait, it’s worth it.

Sheer buzz compelled me to buy Beautiful Creatures, even though I usually refrain from buying new hardcovers and often shy away from bestsellers, having quirky tastes. This book, however, did not disappoint. Rather, it has cemented in my mind what I now consider one of the unfailing, essential truths of its genre: good fantasy isn’t about the magical, but the mundane.

What do I mean by that? Think about it. When you read fantasy, particularly that set in the modern world, you expect a balance between the normal and the paranormal. But it’s more than that. Too many boring grocery-shopping and tooth-brushing scenes, and the reader chucks the book against the wall. Too many arbitrary rules of magic and weirdly random creatures, and the reader stops caring. The key, I believe, is when the fantastic abstracts and amplifies the ordinary. In a nutshell, fantasy is one big metaphor that allows us to feel our ordinary lives more vividly. Beautiful Creatures demonstrates this brilliantly.

What I love most about this book: not the magic, curses, and creatures, but the way the authors detail the small-town life of Gatlin, South Carolina, right down to the gravy and biscuits Amma cooks, the way everyone in Gatlin talks about the Civil War as if it happened yesterday, and the yearning Ethan feels to escape this Southern tradition and small-mindedness. Amma’s cooking ability is echoed by her ability to cook up voodoo; the Civil War, by ancient conflicts between the magical families of Casters; the small-mindedness, by the way people treat the clearly different, magically gifted girl Lena.

Reading this book is like eating a layer cake. You get a big bite of real Southern life, then a taste of magic that isn’t overwhelmingly strong or sweet. These two flavors perfectly complement each other. Take out the magic, and you would still have a good novel, but perhaps not a great one. Take out the mundane, and the magic wouldn’t have nearly the same resonance. The whole effect is of an expertly crafted metaphor about love overcoming prejudice, and whether your past determines your future. All mixed up in one batch of Southern Gothic.

I won’t go into much of the plot, since it’s a long book and most of the fun comes from discovering all its secrets. I will, however, highly recommend you try a taste of Beautiful Creatures. I found it delicious.

the-hunger-games

I bought The Hunger Games in hardcover. Normally, I don’t buy books in hardcover, unless they genuinely seem like standouts that I’ll want to keep forever. Enough glowing reviews of The Hunger Games pushed me over the brink, and I eagerly waited my shiny new book in the mail.

Was The Hunger Games good? Not just good, but great. I know, I know, I’ve been posting a lot of 5-star “you’ve gotta read this!” reviews lately. But my current philosophy is this: if you ate at a mediocre restaurant, you wouldn’t go around telling all your friends about it. If it was really disgustingly awful, sure, then you might rant about it. But that’s the naughty thing to do, in the book world. So I’m sticking with nice things I have to say about books. Unless provoked.

What I love about The Hunger Games: Katniss is a tough-as-nails girl surviving in a dystopian world that chillingly echoes our own. Our thirst for reality TV and obsessive media gossip has twisted into something more all-consuming and powerful in Katniss’s world. If you’re wondering what the Hunger Games are, they are this: Imagine being chosen to fight to the death while millions watch you starve, burn, and kill as entertainment. You must change the way you look and act in the hopes of gaining more fans–in the hopes of fame helping you to survive. The life or death popularity contest at the heart of The Hunger Games shows us sensationalism and propaganda in a way that is frighteningly similar to our reality.

Beyond the world-building, there is, of course, Katniss herself. She’s realistically hardened by her life and refreshingly unconcerned with romance, unlike far too many female protagonists in today’s YA novels. Katniss cares mainly about helping herself and her family to simply live. When she enters the Games, however, her feelings about not only love are tested… she must become someone totally different for the cameras. Through this ordeal, she discovers so much about herself and her world, as will you, the reader. It’s well worth the read.

Where to begin with my review? For me, reading The Sky Always Hears Me was like eating a delicious new flavor of cake: you know you love it, but you’re not quite sure which ingredients were used. After some savoring of the writing, I believe these are key to the recipe:

-Morgan’s voice, which hooked me as soon as I read the first chapter on the author’s website. Smart, sarcastic, and saturated with a restless yearning for something more than a tiny little town in Nebraska she calls Central Nowhere. John Green hasn’t written from the point of view of a girl yet, so far as I know, but if he did, I have a feeling it might sound like Morgan… full of wit, angst, and longings that so powerfully evoke what it means to be a teen.

-The people in Morgan’s life: her alcoholic dad, the grandma she loves, the girl who kisses her, the coworker guy she has a crush on. All of these characters grow and reveal their many facets, complicating Morgan’s life and making for an intertwined story firmly rooted in deep, scream-at-the-hills emotions.

-The setting of Central Nowhere. This book is best read outside, in the grass, on a windy day, where you can imagine Morgan venting her frustrations and desires. That’s how I did it, anyway, and it made the experience all the more vivid. I also love the descriptions of the grocery store where Morgan works. I don’t know why, but I’ve always had this strange fascination with expertly described details of everyday life that usually escape the eye of the author.

Disclaimer: I am a fellow Flux author, though my book won’t be out until 2010. I am also, however, a choosy reader. There’s no way I would actually go out and buy a book unless I thought I’d devour it, and I try my best to be an honest reviewer. So, honestly, I am recommending that you read The Sky Always Hears Me: And the Hills Don’t Mind, in the hopes that you find it just as good.

I’m conflicted about this book. I have read John Green’s work before, and I love his writing style and characters. However, Paper Towns does, as other reviewers have mentioned, tread well-worn ground: in many ways, his characters Quentin (“Q”) and Margo may as well be clones of Miles (“Pudge”) and Alaska in Looking for Alaska, or Colin and his Katherines in An Abundance of Katherines. The formula seems to be the same: Take one intelligent, quirky, neurotic, nerdy-geeky guy. Add one unattainable, mysterious, beautiful/bad-ass/brilliant girl with at least one deep flaw, not immediately apparent, who this guy obsesses over anyway. Throw in a dash of ethnically random friends who are even quirkier than the guy, and about as intelligent, which results in incredibly quirky, witty, though sometimes hokey, banter between them.

However, Green executes this formula excellently. I’m torn between giving Paper Towns or Alaska the crown, here, since I liked different things about the books. I think Alaska had the better plot, since Paper Towns starts off with engines roaring, switches gears abruptly, chugs along at a steady pace, then peters to a put-putting halt. There’s so much beautifully worked tension that builds and builds, but toward the last third of the book, I found the suspense exhausting and started reading so fast the words blurred, just to get to the end. When I did hit that final climactic scene, it was anti-climactic. I went through the final pages, hoping, hoping, then cried, “What? Seriously? Was that IT?” and wanted to throttle a certain character.

Although… I suspect Green intended the ending to be a little anti-climactic, at least according to the setup of the story and the expectations of Quentin, which I shared. I don’t think Green wanted Paper Towns to be a book that fulfilled readers’ desires for a tidy plot, perfect romance, or happy ending, since these literary devices rarely occur in reality. Paper Towns appears to aim higher, and deeper, for a story that makes you question what fulfillment and purpose actually mean. His exploration of the term “paper towns” being a prime example. But still, I can’t say it wasn’t disappointing.

Different readers will take away different messages from this book. I recommend that you read it if you’re looking for beautifully written contemporary YA, or if you like literary explorations of character. However, don’t expect Paper Towns to satisfy your every desire as a reader. That is, I think, the point.

Confession: I have a rather large to-be-read pile, with many new books clamoring for my attention. So when I received an ARC of Eyes Like Stars ages ago, I read a few pages and set it down again. Repeat over the span of several weeks.

Why wasn’t I whisked away into the world of Eyes Like Stars? I’m not sure, but I suspect it had to do with the large cast of characters and confusing hubbub of activity in the first few chapters. Also, I had a hard time guessing where the plot was going initially. This isn’t the kind of book that holds a reader’s hand and guides them through a brand new world; it’s a book that tosses you into the glittering confusion and lets you sort things out along the way.

Once I got my bearings, however, the story steadily grew more and more irresistible. Major points for the evilly adorable, naughty fairies Peaseblossom, Cobweb, Moth, and Mustardseed of A Midsummer Night’s Dream fame. Fairies + pastries = hilarity. They provide some of the funniest moments in the book, though their snarky little jokes may even be eclipsed by Bertie’s wit and the amusing conundrums she finds herself in. I also laughed at Bertie’s bossy treatment of the various male characters in this story, particularly when they attempt to flirt with her. Bertie makes a wonderfully quirky protagonist, flawed yet strong in an unquestionably matter-of-fact way.

The characters alone were enough to tug me through the first half of the story. Around the middle, the plot picked up and I started zipping through the pages. I loved learning more about the Theatre Illuminata–which is a great piece of worldbuilding–and Bertie’s place within it. I found the ending fun and unexpected, with just enough loose threads to make a sequel enticing.

Overall, I would recommend Eyes Like Stars to anyone who loves Shakespeare, snarkiness, original worldbuilding, and quirky fantasy. And, of course, mischievous little fairies.

A long overdue review… why didn’t I post my thoughts earlier? Frankly, I thought this book was so original and strongly written that it would do just fine without me gushing over it. But, of course, it takes each one of the reviews out there to build up word-of-mouth buzz.

That said, these were my initial reactions while reading The Forest of Hands and Teeth: (1) Cool. Dystopian world where people have reverted back to almost-medieval technology. Wonder when they’ll figure out what happened to their society? (2) Hey, I like Mary. She’s tough and independent, yet sensitive in a non-wimpy way. (3) Zombies! (Okay, okay, Unconsecrated.) Hope they’re scary enough for my tastes. (4) This is starting to get creepy… especially those Sisters who control everybody in the village. (5) Mmmm, some romance. And it’s quite sexy. (6) Eeeee! Eeeee! Get away from the zombies! Don’t touch it! It’s not alive anymore! (7) Okay, whew. Lull in the storm. Character growth. (sniff) I feel sad for Mary. (8) DON’T TOUCH THE ZOMBIE BABY! PUT IT DOWN BEFORE IT BITES YOU! (9) Runrunrun! Oh, man, you’ve got to escape. ZOMBIES. (10) (Then I read the rest of the book feverishly.)

Ahem. I managed to read 300+ pages straight of this book before someone knocked on my door and I jumped out of bed, adrenaline rushing at the thought of a zombie outside my apartment. That snapped me out of it for awhile, though I kept muttering about zombies until I got back and finished The Forest of Hands and Teeth that evening.

Disclaimer: these are just my reader reactions. The Forest of Hands and Teeth is a lot more rich and subtle than my tongue-in-cheek review. A large part of the story focuses on the ethical dilemma of doing things for yourself versus sacrificing for those you love. I do, however, want to keep any spoilers to myself, since the twists and turns of the plot build most of the nail-biting suspense. You’ll have to read it for yourself, and I recommend you do.

First, a disclaimer: both Becca and I are members of The Tenners (thetenners.com), so I’ve been hearing lots about her and her book. I did not, however, grovel for an ARC. (Though I thought about it.) Instead, the Publishing Deities graciously left me a copy in my mailbox, to my infinite glee and anticipation. I stroked the pretty cover for a bit, then managed to set HUSH, HUSH aside for a day or two, to focus on my own writing. That’s about as long as my self-control lasted, because I peeked and read 10 pages. Next time I picked it up, I read the next 381 pages in one sitting.

To be honest, I didn’t know too much about the story of HUSH, HUSH before I read it, and I liked it that way. I will try to keep any secrets under wraps, though the cover and blurb’s mention of “the fallen” will heavily clue you in to the fantastical element of this novel: angels. (Becca also spills this tidbit on her website, should you feel inclined to check it out.) I really liked how Becca handled her angel mythology. She hinted just enough and kept the rest secret or vague in such a way that seeds the reader’s imagination. Other thoughts:

-Patch. Definitely a sexily dangerous bad-boy done right. Pretty soon I was getting the same shivery feelings that Nora was, a mixture of fear and attraction and curiosity. A complex character who could come across smoldering in one scene and genuinely creepy in the next, but believably so all the while.

-Nora. I think I like Nora even better than Patch, probably because so many similar books out there nowadays have such bland, ordinary heroines contrasted against lavishly detailed paranormal guys. Nora could blow over these so-called heroines like the paper dolls they are. She feels very solid to me, and equally as complex as Patch. This isn’t a helpless mortal girl going ga-ga; Nora remains strong-willed and smart. And I love how Patch falls for her because of it.

-Vee. Nora’s best friend was great and provided some of the best dialogue in the book. She’s not just comic relief, though, and provides Nora with the impetus to do a lot of interesting things. Which leads me to…

-The tension/pacing. Like I said before, I read this book in one sitting. And it’s no featherweight. Lots of unanswered questions and mysteries and are-they-going-to-kiss-or-not? moments kept me going. I noticed Becca left one big mystery pretty much untouched, which makes me wonder if she’s going to tackle it in the sequel, CRESCENDO. Believe me, I’m definitely going to pick that one up. And I think you should get your hands on HUSH, HUSH as soon as you can. It’s smart, sexy, and wonderfully complex.