{Note: This review contains spoilers for the first book in this series, Raised by Wolves. If you haven’t read it, and don’t want to be spoiled, do not pass go, instead, read Sandra’s review of Raised by Wolves.}

There’s always a way around orders, a way to be the exception instead of the rule. I just needed to find it. I was going to find it.

~Bryn

Bronwyn Alessia St. Vincent Clare, better known as Bryn, returns in Jennifer Lynn Barnes’ second book in the Raised by Wolves series, Trial by Fire.

She’s proud.

She’s a fortress of strength.

She’s also the leader of her newly-formed and unusual pack, created at the end of Raised by Wolves. She’s stretched the bonds of her previous pack to find her own freedom, to forge a new and different pack while still following the rules that bind them all. With her new responsibility of alpha status, she fights to maintain her balance and dignity as the weight of her werewolf world threatens to challenge her position and deeply-held beliefs.

Bryn’s own path, a path filled with pitfalls, pain and hard, harsh lessons exacts a unique toll. It’s a tricky trail, one never forged before. Yet, she holds fast to what her heart and conscience whispers to her as truth and righteousness.

I needed to protect them, more than I needed water or air or any kinds of human connection.

Bryn’s evolving understanding of what it means to be a human leading a pack of werewolves hits relentlessly, hard and fast.

Note: This post is part of An Unconventional Blog Tour, organized by Kelly and Liz to highlight some important topics in blogging. Make sure you visit all of the participants this week—there are really wonderful contributions to this different sort of blog tour. 

{One way? No way.}

In “real life,” I teach at a local college, where my focus is on digital media and communications, including a course specifically in blogging, as well as three other classes containing blogging units. When Kelly asked me to participate in the Unconventional Blog Tour (and, um… I still suspect I was accidentally added to the original email list—because there’s no way I should be included with these awesome, established book bloggers), I immediately thought of drawing on one of the most difficult sections in each of my classes: the challenge of finding your unique voice on the web. 

My students usually struggle with getting over the hump where they cannot fathom that they have anything unique or original to contribute—they just don’t see themselves having a voice that’s all that special. However, invariably, when I start digging deeper in our course discussions, all sorts of interesting angles and perspectives bubble to the surface. Yet, I believe that they do have something to say—something no one else can. Seriously. 

The thing is, there are so many folks out there saying that to be a blogger you must do this, and must never, ever do that, and you have to follow X, Y and Z Very Important Unbreakable Rules of Blogging. As a result, both aspiring and established bloggers often don’t allow themselves to think about what their own unique voice is, which is the fast track to burnout and boredom. 

I’ve found that that problem is far worse in the book blogging world,* where review copies of books serve as a sort of stand-in currency.  

How can bloggers find and preserve their distinctive voices? Well, it’s hard, but here’s what I tell my students, and it’s helped them discover some very unique and rewarding paths over the years. 

 

You’re Creative: You. Yes, You.**

Just Listen by Sarah DessenI began harassing Sarah (not Dessen) for book recommendations via twitter about a year or so ago. Among her earliest recommendations were 3 contemporary young adult novels. Since then, I have read 31 contemporary young adult novels. As I continued to add contemporary YAs to my Goodreads shelves, I noticed a certain name pop up with increasing frequency: Sarah Dessen.

Eventually, Goodreads recommended…all of her books. Goodreads also recommended all books which include any and all variations of the proclamation “Fans of Sarah Dessen will love this one!” in the jacket description.

Of course, I couldn’t just blindly follow my Goodreads recommendations.

I absolutely had to get the advice of Sarah, who, in addition to being Queen of Everything, is my Super Special Book Doppelganger (SSBD). So upon meeting in person for the first time —for a contemporary YA book handover, of course—we browsed around an adorable specialty children’s bookstore. When we came upon a rack dedicated solely to Sarah Dessen books, I pointed and said,

Goodreads keeps telling me to read Sarah Dessen. Do YOU like Sarah Dessen?

At this point, my SSBD’s eyes crinkled and her voice went up an octave as she shrieked reverently declared,

I LOVE Sarah Dessen.

 

Can a Red Sox fan and a Yankees fan see past their differences and fall in love? Unbelievable or not, in the world of Shannon Stacey’s Slow Summer Kisses, this is entirely possible. 

Few writers can entice me to read a short story. Shannon Stacey is one of those few.

She expertly translates her trademark believable—and likeable—characters and fresh, contemporary writing style in the short story/novella form. I’ve read and enjoyed her previous shorts Holiday Sparks (highly recommended) and Mistletoe & Margaritas (fun!), and enjoyed them quite a bit. Despite their being short (duh), they actually were complete stories with well-developed characters. Her latest, Slow Summer Kisses, is no exception. 

Slow Summer Kisses features Anna (the Yankees fan), a recently-downsized financial executive who’s taken up residence at her grandparents’ New Hampshire lake cabin while she looks for a new job that will keep her on the same rocketous career trajectory. Her next door neighbor, Cameron (the Red Sox fan), is a bit lot surly and rather reclusive, and definitely not very appreciative of Anna disrupting his tranquility on the lakeshore. The two were childhood friends who grew apart after Anna’s family quit visiting the lake, so there’s some history between the two (yay!). Obviously, the two reconnect, but there’s some healthy conflict between the two very differing lifestyles and goals.

Can Anna slow down enough to appreciate Cameron’s laid back ways?

Can Cameron cope with Anna’s city girl pace?

In between mint juleps, we were talking at book club this weekend about series and how frustrating it is that the publishing climate is such that series see to be the norm. And, dammit, sometimes you just want a book to have a beginning, middle and end! However, there have been a few times when I’ve found myself surprised by how much I love an unnecessary sequel. Here are three that are near and dear to my heart, that gave me the chance to revisit characters and settings when I didn’t even know I needed or wanted to see again. 

The Piper’s Son by Melina Marchetta 
{Sequel to Saving Francesca}

The Piper's Son by Melina Marchetta

It may be a bit of a stretch to call The Piper’s Son a “sequel,” it’s probably closer to a companion novel, but after reading and loving Saving Francesca, a fabulous Australian novel about a group of friends, I felt like the story had a level of closure that satisfied me. But! Along came Thomas Mackee and his aunt to sweep me away in The Piper’s Son. I loved catching up with characters from Saving Francesca several years later and despite that this focuses on a different character than in the first book, it brings closure that couldn’t exist without the sequel. (Also, I’m so happy that this one is finally getting a good cover in the U.S.)

 

{Buy it at Amazon | The Book Depository}
{Add it on Goodreads}

Requiem Poems of the Terezin Ghetto by Paul B. JeneczkoLiterature’s power lies in its ability to bring depth, immediacy and empathy through the words and into the heart. Images of the Holocaust haunt anyone who has seen black and white reels and photographs of the horror, the reality of an era that must never be forgotten.

Paul B. Jeneczko’s Requiem Poems of the Terezin Ghetto stands as a requiem to the people who lived, suffered, endured, died and carried the inhumanity of a shameful period in their hearts and literally tattooed to their arms, a number never to be diminished.

Terezin was originally a fortress town in Czechoslovakia. Hitler and his fellow Nazis turned it into, in their euphemistic terms, a collection and transport camp for the Jewish people. The original residents were “transported” out, and the Jewish prisoners began arriving.

The Nazi regime purported that was “a home for Jewish intellectuals and artists.” In truth it was a propaganda tool for the Third Reich. In the midst of the horrors of captivity there were musical performances, lectures and other artistic endeavors.

The reality was a different tale, one of woe.

Musicians who performed beautifully one night were packed into cattle cars the next, transported to the gas chambers. [They] …played as only the heartbroken can play.

Oh, Laura Griffin, why can’t I quit you?

For real… you’d think after I went mildly ballistic over the Magical Missing Condom Syndrome in Griffin’s previous novel, Snapped* and wanted to strangle the main character in One Wrong Step (Celie is the worst main character I’ve ever read—I wanted the bad guys to kill her and leave her body in a ditch), I’d be able to make a clean break from Griffin’s books. But, oh no… a new Tracers book magically accidentally landed on my Kindle and I devoured it in a couple of evenings. 

This is my problem: I enjoyed the hell out of Laura Griffin’s Glass Sisters duology (especially the first one, Thread of Fear). Those two books were the perfect formula for awesomesauce brain candy: decently suspenseful but not too stressful, smart/tough women, smart/tough guys, an interesting setting. I also really, really enjoyed the first book in the Tracers series (which is kind of connected to the Glass Sisters series), Untraceable, because one of the main characters is a female computer hacker for good, which is incredibly badass. So, I keep reading Griffin’s books, hoping to recapture that magic.

And, a lot of those elements are there in subsequent books—plus, Griffin’s a pretty good writer.

She’s got a snappy, journalist style and doesn’t get bogged down in procedure or unnecessary details. (Do not bring details and nuance into my brain candy!) Yet, with that said, her novels still seem well-researched—more so than your average CSI episode at least. Trust me on this.

Since I have lost my stomach for a lot of mysteries in the last few years, I’ve tried a lot of the fluffy rom/suspense writers and most of them are just not at all my thing. They tend to be painfully formulatic and beyond ridiculous. (Ridiculous**, I can handle, in fact, I kind of love ridiculous—beyond that… no thanks.) 

Also, I have learned two things about Texas from Laura Griffin’s books:

  1. The state is virtually crawling with serial killers. It’s amazing anyone survives past thirty there.***
  2. The state is also virtually crawling with extremely attractive law enforcement officers.**** 

{Early Review} Something Like Normal by Trish Doller


Something Like Normal by Trish Doller

But what has been done can’t be undone. My best friend is dead and I’m never going to be the same Travis Stephenson.

Trish Doller’s remarkable debut, Something Like Normal, is one of those rare books that I recommend to nearly everyone. It’s an important, timely novel—one that’s lingered with me in the months since I read it.  

Well before SLN was published (it’s out on June 19), I found myself on seemingly every social media site insisting the everyone—absolutely everyone—read this novel about 19 year-old Marine Travis Stephenson, who’s home on leave in Florida following a tour-of-duty in Afghanistan where his best friend, Charlie, dies before his eyes. Suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder (a fact kept hidden from the Marines, as that would torpedo his military career), Travis finds himself feeling like and outsider in his own home and hometown. 

As we head toward the beach I notice the differences in the landscape of the city. New businesses that weren’t there last year. Old businesses that are gone. It’s like a whole chunk of time has just … disappeared. The songs on the radio are different. The faces on the celebrity tabloids at the airport newsstand were people I didn’t recognize. There’s even a new American fucking Idol.

I don’t believe the war is simply the work of politicians and capitalists. Oh, no, the common man is every bit as guilty.

The Holocaust is disturbing enough for adults to conceptualize, but for younger children it’s especially difficult to explain. I certainly cannot give a valid explanation beyond the usual lines that we find in history books.

However, in Anne Frank: The Anne Frank House Authorized Graphic Biography, Sid Jacobson and Ernie Colon have gifted us with a finely-illustrated and written graphic book that explores issues of intolerance and prejudice for a younger audience in an accessible way. It’s deeply felt for the the young and not-so young.

Told through the eyes of Otto Frank (Anne’s father) but still drawing upon Anne’s diary, Otto’s sad face and words come forth in a beautiful portrait of him in darkness and shadows thinking about Anne’s diary.

Painful reminiscences overwhelmed me…Never had I imagined the depths of her thoughts and feelings.

 

Charlotte Rogan’s much-hyped debut, The Lifeboat, is one of my biggest reading disappointments of the year. 

And I feel like a complete jackass for saying that. Rogan has a wonderful story of writing for years and years before The Lifeboat was published and in a publishing climate where precocious twenty-somethings are getting all sorts of attention, it’s wonderful to see someone’s dream of being a published novelist become a reality after years of work on her craft.

However, with its singular focus on Big Questions About Morality, I was left wanting more of everything: plot, character development, tension. 

Review: Cinnamon Rain by Emma Cameron

Cinnamon Rain by Emma Cameron

It stings—
sulphur tears
in cinnamon rain.

Emma Cameron’s Cinnamon Rain embodies the Trifecta of Awesome in my reading heart: a contemporary older YA, Novel in Verse, from Australia.

Fortunately, after a long (very, very long) wait for my order of this book from Fishpond, the Trifecta of Awesome didn’t disappoint—Cinnamon Rain is one of my stand out reads of the year. 

Cinnamon Rain interweaves the stories of three friends: Luke, Casey and Bongo (yes, Bongo—his real name is David). They live in a rural town in Australia, each hoping to escape their lives. Luke plays cricket, hangs out at the beach and pines away for Casey. Casey’s dream is to escape their town and everyone she knows, while Bongo drinks to avoid his abusive stepfather and the memories of his little brother taken away by social services. 

The whole group seems lifted
by one small success. 

Each character narrates a third of Cinnamon Rain (this seems like a more common narrative style in Australia than in the U.S. or U.K., am I right?), painting a rich picture of three lives in transition. We follow them separately out of their hometown in their first steps into adulthood. 

But somewhere in the mix,
I realise that
she’s not just running away.
Her life has focus.
I’ve got nothing.

Editor’s Note: This post is part of the WordCount Blogathon, a challenge in which over 250 bloggers from all niches attempt to blog every single day in May. Today, bloggers are swapping posts. My post today is over on Michelle’s blog, where I’m talking about mobile devices and blogging. I was thrilled when Michelle offered to guest blog on Clear Eyes, Full Shelves, as she is a very accomplished writer and journalist who always has wonderful insights that she’s extremely generous about sharing. I know a lot of voracious readers are also aspiring writers, so Michelle’s thoughts on the lessons she’s learned from writers at the top of their game should be wonderfully useful to many of you.

The main difference between you and me and famous writers is that they’ve produced a work or works that through talent, ambition, hard work or good fortune have become well known.

When it comes to the process of writing, though, they’re just like us. They get caught up doing research. They get writer’s block. They’re not always sure of themselves, or organized. They write about what they know.

I learned those lessons and more from writers such as Annie Proulx and Stebastian Junger who I heard speak this year as part of an author lecture series sponsored by Portland Literary Arts, a local organization that promotes literature and literary. I won season tickets to the series in a Multnomah County Public Library summer reading program contest.

In addition to Proulx and Junger, since last October I’ve seen Stacy Schiff, Tom Brokaw and Abraham Verghese.

Whew… that’s a mouthful, eh?

Awhile back, I made the flip obversation on Goodreads, that I think our reading and understanding of books—especially those in the young adult category—is often very influenced by the generation whose culture with which we most identify.

I gave the example of how often I come across reviews of books I’ve read where the reviewer is very critical of what she reads as “slut shaming” in the novel (check out the reviews of Fracture, for example). And, honestly, it’s not something I particularly notice (I’m at the tail end of Generation X)—and I’ve got a couple of women’s studies degrees. (I’m not saying it’s not relevant, it’s just not on my radar, because that was a big issue long after I was solidly in Grownupland.)

Condom usage (or lack thereof) is another time this division seems to show up. When I read a novel and there’s sex and there’s no condom, I freak the hell out, because I grew up in the 80s/90s where AIDS was an automatic death sentence and well before teen pregnancy was glamorized with all this Teen Mom malarky. I’ve been told by people older than me that they don’t care for mention of condom usage because they think it’s “disruptive” or “jarring.” (Their argument is that the condom usage is implied.) And I’m all, “Dying is disruptive!” And, now, interestingly, I’ve heard the same from people in their 20s on this topic. (Which boggles my mind, but that’s another subject.)

My mom (60s) has very different reactions to things than I do, which I always think is fascinating. And, when we got into this discussion on Goodreads, folks in their 20s had very different thoughts that I. Obviously, a lot of that is just different tastes and other things such as geography, but I think generational contexts are enormous. 

So… where am I going with all this?

He wants more books in which werewolves fight vampires. 

Okay…

Anyway, Laura forced encouraged her husband to sign up for our hand-crafted book matchmaking service, since he has very, very specific tastes. Let’s take a look at his responses to our extremely scientific survey. 

YA or Adult: Surprise Me

Genres: Contemporary, Historical, Dystopia, Action/Adventure, Fantasy, Science Fiction, Paranormal 

POV & Narrative Style: Third Person, Multiple POV, Present Tense, Past Tense, Male POV, Main Character or Narrator, Female POV, Main Character or Narrator, Unreliable Narrator

Swoon Factor: 2

Gross Out Factor: 4

Smut Factor:  2

Fluff Factor: 3

Favorite Books: Nightwatch, The Name of the Wind, good vs. evil, post-apocalyptic, vampires vs. werewolves (not by themselves)

Hated Tropes:  No smutty romance novels

The results… 

Cal Leandros Series, Rob Thurman

This is a recommendation from our Twitter friend, Sabrina. She says that you have to wait until the second book to get to the werewolves vs. vampires story, but says it’s one of her favorite series and has a complicated and unique world with all sorts of strange creatures who, um, fight one another a lot.

{via State Library and Archives of Florida}

Sometimes I feel like I’m living in a parallel digital universe, completely counter to the mainstream.

From friends being horrified by the concept of my devoting time to something as “weird” as blogging or Twitter, to proclamations from mainstream publications bemoaning that ebooks are ruining—ruining—our civilization, it’s bizarre that being involved in the digital world is still perceived by a lot of people as a fringe activity.

In that vein, The Atlantic recently turned its critique of digital culture to the rise of online book reviews in the article, Could the internet save book reviews?”*  

In theory, customer reviews are quick, easy, egalitarian, and make the “consumer” (as opposed to the reader) feel in control of his or her reading choices. But there’s a difference between a recommendation and a review. Customer reviews are heavy on opinion and light on insight. They’re reactionary. Fiction customer reviews typically contain “I-loved-it” or “I-hated-it” declarations based on an affinity for or dislike of the characters and discuss them as if they were real people. Customer reviews rarely include plot summaries—even dull ones. They tend to consider books in terms of whether or not they were worth the money and need not pertain to the book at all. 

Generalize much?

This phone booth is in Middle of Nowhere, Oregon—very near where I grew up.

This is one of those annoying riveting posts where I let you know that I’ve been doing some major maintenance on our commenting system.

Major. Maintenance. 

So, instead of our old, basic system I’ve added Disqus, which has all sorts of interactive features—and you’ll be able to tell if a comment is from Laura, Sandra or myself (and, starting in June, our new contributor, Rebeca) and associate your comment with a URL, Twitter, Facebook, OpenID (I still don’t really know what that’s for) or Google account. You’ll still be able to comment anonymously, of course. Also, you can “like” comments and reply to people, which has been happening already, but this way it’ll be way more organized and easy-to-use. And… tweets that link to our post will show below the comments, which makes me super-happy, because it’s helping me find more people to follow on Twitter—I think this is super cool!

The Name of the Star by Maureen JohnsonI love a good mystery, so when Maureen Johnson takes it to another level creating her witty and fun paranormal young adult thriller The Name of the Star, I was instantly hooked.

Aurora (who prefers Rory) Deveaux comes from Louisiana, the land of all things fantastical and magical, a place where her uncle has eight freezers filled with everything from batteries to milk intended to get him through another Hurricane Katrina (no worries about electricity going out) and an aunt who sees various angels of several hues designating their place on a spectrum from good to not-so-good. With this background, nothing should come as a surprise to Rory.

But, surprised she is.

It’s Rory’s senior year of high school. Her parents have an opportunity to teach at a university in England for a year, so off they go to a place more laden with ghosts of the past than Louisiana could ever scare up. She’s installed in Wexford, an elite prep school where she becomes embroiled in a mystery dating back to 1888: Jack the Ripper.

Living Proof, Kira Peikoff’s debut futuristic thriller, piqued my interest because it dealt with a near-future that seemed plausible and frightening. 

Set in New York City in 2027, destroying an embryo (say, for stem-cell research) is illegal and considered first degree murder. Similarly, pregnant women are monitored for any behavior that could be potentially unhealthy and a prosecuted for missing prenatal appointments or ingesting alcohol.

In this world, fertility clinics are big business, so there are many, many unused embryos in storage. Doctors are charged with preserving the embryos indefinitely and are subject to severe criminal prosecution if they are found to be negligent in their care of the embryos face prosecution while the separation of church and state has eroded almost completely, 

“I really think we are at a crucial fork in our history. The separation of church and state is breaking down all the time. First the line was blurring, and now it’s all but indistinct.” She swallowed the words that dangled from her tongue, threatening to expose her fury toward the DEFP and the DEP.

Arianna is a obstetrician with a secret—she has rapidly progressing multiple sclerosis and a connection to the radical scientific underground. Her only hope to avoid the always-fatal outcome of the type of MS she has is a stem-cell transplant, which scientists (including her father) had nearly perfected as a treatment prior to it becoming illegal. However, the Department of Embryo Preservation (DEP) is suspicious of her (they are unaware of her connection to her father’s work) because of the sudden popularity of the fertility clinic she operates, and they send in an undercover investigator (they are also motivated by threats to the department because they haven’t had a major bust in ages). 

We’ve spent the last week evangelizing* about the awesomeness of novels in verse, in case you haven’t noticed. Since we’re sure we’ve convinced you that you have to pick up your first novel in verse righ now, we thought we’d give you a few suggestions about where to start. 

Love & Leftovers by Sarah Tregay

Love & Leftovers was Laura’s introduction to novels in verse and you really cannot go wrong with this one. It’s a fantastic story and the writing is spectacular! I dare you not to love it. 

{Sarah’s Review}

{Buy it at Amazon | Book Depository}

{Add it on Goodreads}

 

I Heart You, You Haunt Me by Lisa Schroeder

To be honest, any Lisa Schroeder would be a great novel in verse first read, but this one has a different take a ghost story and is very, very readable if you’re nervous about trying verse. It’s also very short, which can be nice when you’re trying something new.

{Buy it at Amazon | Book Depository}

{Add it on Goodreads}