11 Best Books of 2011

review No Responses »
Dec 312011

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 Pratchett. Dude. 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 Suma. This 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!
Posted by karenkincy at 4:00 pm Tagged with: ,

Why I don't write (or read) bad reviews

review, Writing 6 Responses »
Sep 052010

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.

Posted by karenkincy at 10:01 am Tagged with: ,

You shouldn't like the color blue

Writing 5 Responses »
Jan 162010

You shouldn’t like the color blue. It’s really an overused color. Try something more sophisticated.

You shouldn’t eat cilantro. I hate the way it has such a coarse green flavor.

You shouldn’t read this book or watch this movie. And my review will tell you why.

Cilantro. Which my boyfriend despises.

Cilantro. Which my boyfriend despises.

Now tell me. How useless or ridiculous did you find those sentences? To follow that question up, how useless or ridiculous do you find certain negative reviews? Note how I say “certain negative reviews,” because I believe there’s a time and a place for intelligent criticism that gets people to discuss genre and story, as well as helping people choose which out of thousands of books or movies they choose to spend their time on. But I do not, however, like the way some critics bash creative works with every weapon at their disposal: snark, haughtiness, and ad hominem attacks on both the creator of this work and the fans who love it. Especially if it’s popular.

I am guilty of such reviews. Primarily in the snark department, although I hope I have never bashed an author or their readers. I have had such bad reactions to certain books that I experienced the proverbial wall-banger phenomenon. Way back when, before I was published, I used to share my thoughts online. This is why this wall-banger sucks, and you should never, ever read it!

I don’t do this anymore. Need I tell you why? Firstly, I could very well be alienating myself from authors and readers I have never met, merely by introducing myself to them with my guns blazing. Secondly, I am getting published in six and a half months, and I do not relish the idea of being exposed to my own medicine. Finally, and most importantly, I just think these reviews are kind of useless. Honestly. Do you need to know how stupid someone thought Twilight was if you, in fact, loved it to pieces and have a lovely time writing fan fiction? Do you need to step out of a 3D showing of Avatar feeling thoroughly amazed and then have this amazement tempered by sneering reviews? Or worst of all, do you need to avoid reading a book or watching a movie because so many critics turned you off?

Avatar. Which I loved.

Avatar. Which I loved.

Never, ever eat pumpkin butter. I hated it when I tried it. You will, too. I mean, who wants to taste mushy squash with the consistency of something out of a baby’s diaper?

I know it’s fun to snark. Really fun. And gossiping about books and movies behind their creators’ backs can give you a sense of superiority and good taste. You can think to yourself, I would never make such a stupid mistake. I wouldn’t tolerate such glaring imperfections, cliches, and hackneyed plots in my novel/movie/whatever. Uh-huh. You’re never going to hit perfection. And even if you get close, who says everybody is going to like it? You may have invented the pumpkin butter of the literary world. But then again, we don’t expect everybody to like a particular food, and we don’t waste time snarking about those who do. Oh, you banana-lovers are so cliche. Get a life. Silly, no?

Sure, we have food critics who tell us intelligent, articulate things so we don’t have to waste loads of moolah on not-so-fine dining. And we have critics of books and movies of the same caliber. But I would like to end my small ranting ramble that if you read reviews very often at all, please remember that they are opinions, and opinions about books can be as useless as opinions about colors and food. And some people have ulterior motives or insecurities the size of Alaska when they write these reviews. Or just like to snark. Bring on the critics, but remember: the creative works being pecked to death by a flock of snark-birds will likely outlive their detractors and go on to please many more.

(For the record, I do love pumpkin butter.)

Posted by karenkincy at 11:45 am Tagged with: ,