Peeps by Scott Westerfeld

ADD-friendly review: Vampire books are all the rage, especially for YA, but Peeps somehow manages a balance between disgusting detail and hormone-fueled sexiness that transcends the genre. It's more biology than mythology and more intent on saving the world than biting necks, and Westerfeld peppers it with the snappy repartee he's known for. It's fast-paced and gross, but a nice departure from sparkling pale chests and moping. The saving-the-world plot takes the place of what I was hoping for the book to be, though.

Okay. Bigger bites, more to chew on: I think the whole vampire thing works well for YA because it's a perfect analogy for hormones, bodies changing and feeling like something else is taking control. Twilight (which, full disclosure, I read half of before I had to stop) didn't take advantage of this - those vampires were already 400 years old and the angst came from love, not a changing physique and desire that you don't quite understand - and it was worse off for it. Peeps doesn't let anything like love stop it from being a disgusting romp through Westerfeld's version of vampire lore: basically, vampirism is an STD, and our protagonist, Cal, is infected.

Plot: Cal is a Peep hunter - he has the vampire parasite but none of the symptoms. His appetite is uncontrollable (thanks to the parasite wanting to feed itself) and his sexual drive is hard to control (thanks to the parasite wanting to spread) but he has been conscripted, due to his mild immunity to fight off people that have been infected by the parasite and turn cannibalistic. And it starts with finding his ex-girlfriends, who he unwittingly infected. From there, its huge revelation after huge revelation, until it seems that Cal is fighting something bigger than vampires.

More: I did not read this book in one go. I am not always a squeamish reader, but every other chapter is a factual account of some terrifying parasite. Hookworms, mealworms, toxoplasma... It's all very squirm-inducing. So I sort of put it down for a bit. But I picked it back up to see if I could make it through a vampire novel. Scott Westerfeld is a big idea sort of writer - his characters have to save the world. Or start saving the world. Or keep the world from needing to be saved. And while I loved that for the Uglies saga, and I love that for Leviathan, Peeps' end-of-days wasn't as interesting as the inner turmoil and guilt of his main character infecting the women of his life that Westerfeld could have focused on.

Should you read it? I remain unconvinced. The concept is bang-up exciting, and the neat metaphor of vampirism as an STD remains an "I wish I thought of that." But Westerfeld has better books out there. If you're looking for a different take on vampires, or want to learn about parasites without awful pictures, then perhaps you'll love it. I just wanted something different from it than the book had to offer.

things you read again.

When You Reach Me by Rebecca Stead

Review written for ADD-afflicted folks: This is a Newbery Award winning YA novel about a twelve-year-old girl in New York City. It encompasses Madeleine L'Engle, sandwich shops, losing friends, being punched in the face, gaining friends, racism, the 20,000 dollar Pyramid, divorce, two-dollar bills and kind dentists, along with a lot of other stuff I just won't mention. It's touching, it's funny, it's 200 pages of perfect.

Wanna hear me blather more praise? Read on: When I was a kid, I told people that my greatest dream in life was to win a Newbery award. And then a Pulitzer. I wanted to win both, and if I could win both at once, all the better. For as long as I can remember, I associated the Newbery award with the best sorts of books. The Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler, Maniac McGee, Holes, Walk Two Moons, The Giver, Dear Mr. Henshaw... these were the books that not only made me into a better reader, but gave me something real to think about, not just a place to escape to. And When You Reach Me is perfect company for these books. It's a book of simple pleasures shadowed with complexity - Stead set Miranda up in 1979, away from cell phones, the internet, video game systems and everything that comes with them. Instead, Miranda reads for fun. She hangs out with her friends and listens to records. And the puzzle that sets the twisty little narrative in motion is all the more exciting.

Plot: Miranda, 12, lives with her mother in New York City. She's a latchkey kid, but she hates the term. Her mom is a paralegal and has dated a lawyer in the firm, Richard, for years. Miranda has a best friend in the apartment below hers named Sal - but one day he gets punched in the face for no reason, and everything changes. Sal won't talk to her, her Mom is chosen as a contestant for the 20,000 dollar Pyramid with Dick Clark, and she starts finding mysterious messages, addressed to her, that scare her.

And, just a little bit more: When I finished this book on the J-Church line heading home, I missed my stop. By a lot. I didn't even notice after I had put the book in my lap because I was looking into that middle distance between the novel you just read and the real world - that sort of fuzzy in between where the curtain is finally being rushed across the stage and you realize that none of this actually happened. The puzzle that this book sets up is only half the joy in reading it - in fact, some readers will probably guess at it before the book is through. The other half is Miranda's relationships, of course, and the way that quiet, slow understanding of how friends are made and kept and how life can be now that she understands a small fraction more than she did than when the book started. That "lifting of the veil" (to cop a line from the novel) is between every line, after every chapter marker. And that's probably why this book won its award.

Should you read it? Yes. Go get it.

dot dot dash.

The Decoding of Lana Morris by Laura & Tom McNeal

The ADD review bit: Lana Morris is one of those heartwarming characters that reminds me why I read YA. The plot is there in whispers and fits, but what turns the pages here is watching a character discover her backbone and start to understand her reason to be.

Interested? Nice. Keep on keeping on: I really mean what I said up there - characters like Lana are why I read YA. They are so in touch with the base emotions - love, envy, anger, fear, sadness, grief that the disaffected tone of most modern literature is missing, and I'm never sad to see it go. Things happen, the character reacts, and usually makes the most plot-drivingly interesting decision available because a) everything when you're 12-19 is life or death and b) those mistakes and triumphs need to be made as soon as possible, because there is probably homework to get to. And Lana is a shining example of this teen trope, because her situation is already so dire. A missing father, absent mother, in a house full of children with special needs, in love with her foster father, trying to be in with the lowest common denominator of teenage thieves and lowlifes... she has a mixed bag. So of course a bit of magic realism would sock her right in the stomach and then take hold.

Plot: Lana Morris lives in a house with five special needs kids (SNKs) affectionately called "Snicks." Her foster mother is an ice queen, her foster father is dreamy. When she is mysteriously given a "Ladies Drawing Kit," she finds out that what she draws comes true. So... with so many things she wants to be true in her life, she needs to figure out: what does she want to wish for?

More: I think my favorite part about this particular novel, Lana aside, is the "be careful what you wish for" plot is thrown out the window pretty quickly. She figures out her wishes are kind of difficult to put on paper, and the magic realism takes the form of mildly freakish coincidences that could (for the cynical) remain coincidences. Instead, the wish fulfillment serves as a neat little metaphor for being able to take control of your life as much as you possibly can. And with that power in hand, she starts using it, drawing on her wish paper or just making decisions for herself, results and consequences be darned.

Also, the way the Snicks are portrayed seemed perfect. They are not glossed over and reduced to quirks. They are much more than that, and Lana's relationship with Tilly is heart warming to say the least.

Should you read it? I liked it, I know that much. But here's the thing, and it's a shame I'm only getting to this here: the Mcneals write amazing books. This is the fourth I've read, and they are all fantastic examples of why YA is more than YA. And if you are going to read only one of their books, I'd choose Crooked or Zipped. But if everything I typed above here has made you open an amazon.com window to find out what this little number is going for these days, then... rock it out. Lana's good company.

some kind of thunder inside.

Liar by Justine Larbalestier

Review for the readers with ADD: It says there right on the cover: this book is about a liar. That liar is a girl named Micah. Deciding what is a lie and what isn't is half of the fun, and the other half of the fun is going back through and re-reading the bits that she says are "true" after you just assumed it was true anyway. And then questioning that. Because she is, after all, a liar.

Still here? Cool. Let's dig a little deeper: So I found Justine Larbalestier by proxy - she is married to Scott Westerfeld, another YA author who has all of my respect and is lavished with lots of praise. I saw she wrote How to Ditch Your Fairy, which didn't really interest me too much, so I chose this book off of the Mission Library Branch instead, remembering the controversy over the cover. After reading Liar, I put my BART-first-impression on the line and added How to Ditch Your Fairy to my hold shelf. How's that for a recommendation.

I liked Liar especially because of the camera obscura that is the first person narrator, and it makes me wonder, in the best way, about the nature of story telling at all. Reading first person is a strange thing - here we are, on a journey in someone's head. Why did they write it? Is it a journal, or do we just get their typed out thoughts on the page? Or is it like we went over to their house for a cup of coffee and they just had 300 pages worth of junk to fill us in on? First person isn't the only perspective that begs these questions, but it is certainly puts the most at stake: why is Micah telling us her story?

Plot: I can't say much here, actually. I don't want to ruin this one for you. But the bare minimum should suffice: Micah is a liar. Her boyfriend disappears and then is suspiciously murdered. And everything that happens before or after is narrated and shadowed by Micah's meticulous, destructive lies/truth.

More: Micah is a surprising and ultimately chilling narrator because of this obscured viewpoint. When we find out her reasons for telling us the story - basically, to keep her lies straight for herself, while starting to tell some truth, we have to stop and take stock of what's happening. The best thing this book has going for it is not only the constant question of what Micah is lying about, but the why - why does she have to lie.

And the further you read, or maybe it's just me - I started to question why I lie too. And when a book gets you to do that - well, you're reading something sort of different. In a good way.

However, when all is said and done I didn't love Liar. The second half of the book made it hard to love. I won't go into it because I don't want to spoil anything - but I'm not surprised that I don't love it. It's hard to love a liar.

Should you read it? Oh yeah. 100 percent. Be sure to flip back and forth too, when more of the layers get pulled away, and see if you think that she's actually telling the truth, or just putting more layers on.

P.S. the title of this post are lyrics from a song by Dragonette called "Liar. It's a great companion piece to the book. Listen to it here.

pretty mad.

Going Bovine by Libba Bray

Review for those who have ADD: It's a book about a guy who gets mad cow disease and then has to save the world, either in his head or really, depending on what you believe. Actually this book might be written for those with ADD - it's a breakneck paced road trip novel chocked full of so many characters, places, and ideas, it's tough to ever be bored. I don't know if that means it's good, but it's certainly compulsively readable. 500 pages goes by super quick. But perhaps I should put that phrase in bold (I didn't because I didn't want your eyes to go directly there) I don't know if that means it's good.

still here? okay here we go: I make a point to read the Newbery and Printz award medalists every year, if not the honors books as well. Newbery will rarely steer (ha, get it?) you wrong, and Printz never has - Last year's Jellicoe Road remains on my list favorite books of 2009, and probably will go down as one of my favorite books ever. But Bovine is different territory. Cameron Smith is a pot smoking, talk-backing, lazy and generally incredibly unlikable character. The key to making this book readable and not just annoying is that you want him to succeed - and Ms. Bray does this by giving him a likable slacker attitude and then a terribly sad disease. It definitely works - you root for Cam and the characters he picks up along the way.

Plot: Like I said, Cameron is a go nowhere sort of character, who has no idea what's up next in life, or even if he cares. He's a bored, annoyed, teenage boy who sees himself above the fray... until he mysteriously gets mad cow disease and starts to lose his mind. After that, a beautiful punk rock fairy named Dulcie gives him a quest to save the world and find his cure. And he learns, of course, that he wants to live, as well as finding friends in a dwarf and a lawn gnome who turns out to be a Norse God.

More: That's the sort of thing this book throws in and makes work. It's pretty glorious when it does, too. What is hit and miss are the satires on pop culture... for some reason, Ms. Bray felt the need to change everything she thought to mention, except Disneyland. Star Wars is Star Fighters, MTV is YA!TV, And an indie band like... maybe the Magnetic Fields? Or Sigur Ros? is replaced with a group called The Great Tremolo. And then again, like I said, Disneyland remains Disneyland. In a book that deals with string theory and parallel dimensions, I was willing to buy it, but I didn't really understand the need. It was distracting. I suppose I can put this all in the pocket of "in a world almost exactly like our own, EXCEPT," but I don't think that's what Going Bovine is going for.

Should you read it?: Yeah, I think so. The novel was actually a rollicking good time, and the message was on point for so many people in the world - stop existing, start living. The three or four Printz books that I have read so far seems to all have that in common, and it's a message I never tire of. Plus, the Norse Mythology and Gonzo's characterizations are treats enough in their own right.

all about the real.

Marcelo in the Real World by Francisco X. Stork

review for those with ADD: The book wears its fellows (if not its influences) right on its jacket sleeve: Told in the first person, it's narrated by a 17-year-old with an Asperger's-like syndrome. As it proclaims proudly in its summary on the left flap, it's Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime but a bit different. It's well-written with some pretty wonderful moments, but the uneven pace might put off some of the younger set who this novel seems to be aimed at.

still here? okay, good: I found this book while trying to see if I could find the sequel to Catcher in the Rye that J.D. Salinger stopped from being published. Powell's books said that they had it, but they didn't really have it.

One of their employees did have four books on her top 5 of 2009 list that I also enjoyed, and the fifth one was Marcelo, so it follows that I got this next. On Saturday, which was apparently St. Patrick's Day for those who wanted a whole day to drink in San Francisco, a guy and his girlfriend drunkenly asked if the book I was reading was good. I told them I had no idea, and that's how I felt even when I finished - I'm still unsure whether or not I liked it.

Plot: The titular character strikes a deal with his lawyer father: If he can be successfully helpful at his father's law firm over the summer, he will not have to go to public school in the fall. Instead he can stay at Paterson, a school meant for kids with disabilities less or more severe than Marcelo's - the school he had been at for for most of his life. At the law firm, he finds all those things the real world has to offer. Friends that aren't friends, understanding but aloof females, decisions that affect more than himself. And so, and so, and so.

More: My inability to decide whether or not I enjoyed it stems from a seeming disinterest to follow through on some of the details that fascinated me the most: The book opens with Marcelo describing this "internal music" that he has trouble describing, and isn't really music anyway, it's just the feeling you get from listening to music. But by the end of the book, he has stopped hearing it. He can no longer return to it, he can't call it up like he used to. This loss of this ability is referred to only twice that I can remember, and although it was from Marcelo's viewpoint, I do not know, still, how he feels about losing it.

In other words, after 100 pages of what feels like a character study, the Stork seems to think he needed a detective-like plot, and I feel a bit like he left some of Marcelo's more interesting quirks on the road to the conclusion. And really, that's what confuses me the most about the jacket sleeve referencing Curious Incident - that novel had both plot and character development at the same time, while Marcelo jumps back and forth between the two.

Should you read it? Probably. Especially if you've gotten this far down this review and you're still interested in what I think. It's 300 easy pages in a nice typeset (I really like when publishers tell you the font the book was set in. I do not understand why this isn't more common.) Marcelo's struggle to understand the world is touching, and his matter-of-fact narration manages endearing nearly 100 percent of the time.

what this is all about.

I read a lot of books and I want to be a book reviewer.

I figure, the best way to become one is to just do it and then find someone to pay me to do it.