The Elementals by Saundra Mitchell

The Elementals by Saundra Mitchell

Kate Witherspoon has lived a bohemian life with her artist parents. In 1917, the new art form of the motion picture is changing entertainment—and Kate is determined to become a director.

Meanwhile, midwestern farm boy Julian Birch has inherited the wanderlust that fueled his parents’ adventures. A childhood bout with polio has left him crippled, but he refuses to let his disability define him.

Strangers driven by a shared vision, Kate and Julian set out separately for Los Angeles, the city of dreams. There, they each struggle to find their independence. When they finally meet, the teenage runaways realize their true magical legacy: the ability to triumph over death, and over time. But as their powerful parents before them learned, all magic comes with a price. (blurb from Goodreads)

Ratings: PG-13, 4 stars
Trigger warnings: homophobia, ableism

I read this entire novel without realizing that it was the final book in a series. Oops. Surprisingly, I didn’t feel like I was missing anything except perhaps a little bit of background information about Kate and Julian’s parents. It’s my understanding that The Elementals is a little bit more of a companion novel than the first two books in the trilogy, as it deals with the children of the protagonists of the first two books. I was a little confused about the motivation of the main antagonist, but it didn’t really detract from my enjoyment of the novel.

*SPOILER ALERT* Before reading this book, I’d heard quite a bit of buzz about this book because Kate is bisexual and it’s a period book, which is so rarely done, especially in YA fiction. I found this buzz to be a little...misleading. Kate never fully articulates her feelings towards the woman she is assumed to be in love with, and while I didn’t expect to actually see the word “bisexual” in a text set in 1917, I had hoped for more specific acknowledgement of her feelings. However, I do still appreciate the inclusion of potential bisexuality, and I thought what little was there to be appropriately handled. *END SPOILER*

In general, I really enjoyed the world building in this novel. I thought the period details were really well done, and the magic system was incredibly intuitive. I never questioned it, which is even more impressive considering that this is the final book in a trilogy. I appreciated that the book was more focused on introspective and character relationships than action, despite the magic and menacing antagonist. Even the ending, which could have been very action-y, played out almost gently.

And speaking of the ending, I am speechless. I’ll admit it: I bawled like a baby. I have a weird feeling about the whole thing. I’m not happy about the ending, per se, but I think it’s very fitting and was very satisfying. Prepare yourself for the ending.

In general, I really enjoyed this book, and I recommend it without reservation. As you might expect from a book set in 1917, some characters exhibit homophobia and ableism, but these instances are always framed negatively. I think fans of the Gemma Doyle trilogy might be particularly interested in The Elementals.

The Chaos of Stars by Kiersten White

The Chaos of Stars by Kiersten White

Kiersten White, New York Times bestselling author of Paranormalcy, is back with The Chaos of Stars—an enchanting novel set in Egypt and San Diego that captures the magic of first love and the eternally complicated truth about family.

Isadora's family is seriously screwed up—which comes with the territory when you're the human daughter of the ancient Egyptian gods Isis and Osiris. Isadora is tired of living with crazy relatives who think she's only worthy of a passing glance—so when she gets the chance to move to California with her brother, she jumps on it. But her new life comes with plenty of its own dramatic—and dangerous—complications . . . and Isadora quickly learns there's no such thing as a clean break from family.

Blending Ally Carter's humor and the romance of Cynthia Hand's Unearthly, The Chaos of Stars takes readers on an unforgettable journey halfway across the world and back, and proves there's no place like home. (blurb from Goodreads)

Rating: PG-13, 4 stars
Trigger warning: violence, familial dysfunction

I had some really mixed feelings about this book in the beginning. For awhile, particularly in the middle, it seemed as though Isadora was suffering painfully from “oblivious protagonist is oblivious” syndrome. Towards the climax of the book, that aspect of her character is resolved in a way that I totally didn’t expect. I won’t spoil anything, but I will say that I was really impressed when my frustration was nullified.

I also had a little trouble relating to Isadora for most of the book. She is incredibly stubborn, and I had a hard time empathizing with how strongly she was trying to break away from her family. However, that isn’t necessarily a detriment to the book. I don’t want to read books with protagonists who I totally and completely understand, because that means that they’re all the same, and they’re all like me, and that doesn’t sound like fun at all.

When I started this book, I was immediately drawn in by the writing. It’s not consistently the best, but there are moments where the language really shines, and as a poet, I always appreciate that. It also did a good job of surprising me with plot twists that I definitely didn’t see coming, which I find often doesn’t happen with YA paranormal romance novels.

Overall, The Chaos of Stars had some flaws, but it also used mythology in an innovative way (look, they’re not all Greek!), and used interesting language to boot! I recommend it if you like mythological tales and are looking for something that takes mythology in a different direction.

Bi: Notes for a Bisexual Revolution by Shiri Eisner

Bi: Notes for a Bisexual Revolution by Shiri Eisner

Depicted as duplicitous, traitorous, and promiscuous, bisexuality has long been suspected, marginalized, and rejected by both straight and gay communities alike.

Bi takes a long overdue, comprehensive look at bisexual politics—from the issues surrounding biphobia/monosexism, feminism, and transgenderism to the practice of labeling those who identify as bi as either "too bisexual” (promiscuous and incapable of fidelity) or "not bisexual enough” (not actively engaging romantically or sexually with people of at least two different genders). In this forward-thinking and eye-opening book, feminist bisexual and genderqueer activist Shiri Eisner takes readers on a journey through the many aspects of the meanings and politics of bisexuality, specifically highlighting how bisexuality can open up new and exciting ways of challenging social convention.

Informed by feminist, transgender, and queer theory, as well as politics and activism, Bi is a radical manifesto for a group that has been too frequently silenced, erased, and denied—and a starting point from which to launch a bisexual revolution. (blurb from Goodreads)

Rating: PG-13, 4 stars
Trigger warnings: see review

This book took me a long time to get through, but not because I didn’t like it. I found it absolutely fascinating. The problem was, with school and all, I often found it hard to focus while I was reading it. In those moments, I would call it fascinating, but dense. From the perspective I have now, from having finished it over Thanksgiving break, I recognize that it wasn’t so much that it was dense, but more that it was more similar to the books I was reading for classes than the books I read for fun. So it took me awhile, but that wasn’t a bad thing.

In a way, I’m glad it took me so long to finish this book, because that gave me plenty of time to process. When it comes to ideological stances, I find that I often either accept or reject the whole of the ideology almost immediately. Not so with this book. I found there were things I definitely agreed with, but there were also things that I definitely disagreed with, and there were even things that I was (and am) on the fence about. It wasn’t comfortable, but I’m glad about that. This isn’t supposed to be a comfortable book. It asks tough questions about what it means to be bisexual, and the answers are no more comfortable than the questions.

This book was incredibly user-friendly. Like many textbooks from my primary school days, it highlighted “vocabulary words” right in the text and defined them in a separate box on the same page. This is very handy for people who might not be familiar with feminist and queer jargon. Trigger warnings were placed before the sections of the book that were relevant, even down to the paragraph, and there were additional “warnings” placed at the end of the triggering sections. I absolutely loved this idea, and I wish more writers (or editors?) took this approach. The availability of trigger warnings within the text is why I didn’t include them above (mostly because I’m slightly lazy and didn’t want to look up specific trigger warnings, because many of them were very specific). All I can say is that Eisner covered her bases when it comes to potentially triggering passages.

One aspect of the book that I definitely have mixed feelings about is the type of parallels she draws between bisexuality and other social issues/oppressed groups. While Eisner always makes clear that true parallels really don’t exist, and that one oppressed group isn’t better/worse off than any other (because you can’t compare them like that), she does often compare the bisexual movement to other movements, and she often chooses movements that she has connections to or experience with, such as trans* movements and movements specific to Israel/Occupied Palestine. This is where the mixed feelings come in. It was often hard for me to make the connections, because she used movements that I really have no familiarity with. This frustrated me, but I also recognize that Eisner isn’t an American author, so it wouldn’t even make sense for her to solely use American social movements, not to mention the fact that movements besides mainstream American social movements deserve attention. I recognize that my frustration comes from a place of privilege, and part of me enjoyed learning about social movements that I really had no prior knowledge of. But I was also frustrated quite a bit. Hence my mixed feelings.

Overall, this book is an excellent, both for bisexuals and those who identify on the queer spectrum, but also for feminists and anyone who is open to learning about bisexual issues. Be prepared to be uncomfortable while reading, maybe even angry--but hopefully you’ll take that discomfort the way I did by appreciating how relevant it is to the discussion this book is starting.

Note: I received a free ebook copy for review, but I also purchased a copy when I was financially able to. 

If You Could Be Mine by Sara Farizan

If You Could be Mine by Sara Farizan

In this stunning debut, a young Iranian American writer pulls back the curtain on one of the most hidden corners of a much-talked-about culture.

Seventeen-year-old Sahar has been in love with her best friend, Nasrin, since they were six. They’ve shared stolen kisses and romantic promises. But Iran is a dangerous place for two girls in love—Sahar and Nasrin could be beaten, imprisoned, even executed if their relationship came to light.

So they carry on in secret—until Nasrin’s parents announce that they’ve arranged for her marriage. Nasrin tries to persuade Sahar that they can go on as they have been, only now with new comforts provided by the decent, well-to-do doctor Nasrin will marry. But Sahar dreams of loving Nasrin exclusively—and openly.

Then Sahar discovers what seems like the perfect solution. In Iran, homosexuality may be a crime, but to be a man trapped in a woman’s body is seen as nature’s mistake, and sex reassignment is legal and accessible. As a man, Sahar could be the one to marry Nasrin. Sahar will never be able to love the one she wants, in the body she wants to be loved in, without risking her life. Is saving her love worth sacrificing her true self? (blurb from Goodreads)

Rating: PG-13, 4 1/2 stars
Trigger warnings: homophobia, transphobia, body dysmorphia, child prostitution

This book actually frustrated me quite a bit, but only in the sense that I wanted to reach through the book and shake Sahar several times.  It was very difficult for me to understand how she could be so in love with Nasrin that she would “fake” being trans*, even to the point of undergoing surgery. This frustration wasn’t a bad thing, though. It was fascinating to follow Sahar’s journey, despite how uncomfortable it made me. I also appreciated the fact that the book told the story of a queer teen who isn’t living in White America, which is something that I think a lot of LGBTQ YA does.

This was a really different book for me to read compared with other LGBTQ YA because the culture is so different. It is a contemporary setting non-Western setting, which I think places it in a really unique position. If my memory serves me, this is the first book I’ve read that clearly checks both those boxes. The non-Western-set books I can think of are speculative, and while there is value in building a speculative world around queer culture, I think there’s a different sort of value to taking a contemporary non-Western (and more specifically, a non-American) culture and really delving into what that means for queer-identified characters.

I liked that the setting and overall concept allowed this book to escape so many tropes, not just of queer YA, but of YA fiction in general. This wasn’t a coming out story. From the very beginning, Sahar and the reader know that she is gay. So she isn’t coming to terms with her own sexuality, and the cultural restrictions mean that she can’t safely broach the topic with most of the people in her life. *SPOILER ALERT* I also enjoyed how the book sidestepped the overused YA trope of “protagonist ends up dating forever their first true love.” There are times when I enjoy the trope, but even then I recognize that it’s overused, and it’s so refreshing to see something different. *END SPOILER*

Overall, I just really enjoyed the book. It made me cry (big surprise), and I definitely can’t wait to read the author’s next book.

Letters from Skye by Jessica Brockmole

Letters from Skye by Jessica Brockmole

A sweeping story told in letters, spanning two continents and two world wars, Jessica Brockmole’s atmospheric debut novel captures the indelible ways that people fall in love, and celebrates the power of the written word to stir the heart.

March 1912: Twenty-four-year-old Elspeth Dunn, a published poet, has never seen the world beyond her home on Scotland’s remote Isle of Skye. So she is astonished when her first fan letter arrives, from a college student, David Graham, in far-away America. As the two strike up a correspondence—sharing their favorite books, wildest hopes, and deepest secrets—their exchanges blossom into friendship, and eventually into love. But as World War I engulfs Europe and David volunteers as an ambulance driver on the Western front, Elspeth can only wait for him on Skye, hoping he’ll survive.

June 1940: At the start of World War II, Elspeth’s daughter, Margaret, has fallen for a pilot in the Royal Air Force. Her mother warns her against seeking love in wartime, an admonition Margaret doesn’t understand. Then, after a bomb rocks Elspeth’s house, and letters that were hidden in a wall come raining down, Elspeth disappears. Only a single letter remains as a clue to Elspeth’s whereabouts. As Margaret sets out to discover where her mother has gone, she must also face the truth of what happened to her family long ago. (blurb from Goodreads)

Rating: PG-13, 5 stars
Trigger warnings: death, war, mentions of miscarriage and abortion

Oh this book, where to begin? I suppose I could start with the fact that about 20 or so pages from the end, I started crying and didn’t stop until well after I had finished. I didn’t anticipate this being a crying book (and I cry a lot when I read. Actually, I just cry a lot in general), and I’m still not completely sure why it emotionally impacted me so strongly, but I’m glad it did. I always consider it a form of praise if a book elicits a visible emotional reaction from the reader. Letters from Skye succeeded in that many times over.

As you might be able to guess from the title, Letters from Skye is a novel told entirely in letters. It certainly isn’t the first novel to do so, but it’s definitely the most well-done of the ones I’ve seen. This works so well in part because the voice is so genuine. Brockmole did an excellent job of writing characters with distinct and different voices. As an American, Davey uses different vocabulary from Elspeth, and since Margaret spent most of her life in Edinburgh, her letters have less of the Scottish highlands language than Elspeth’s do. The writing style took me straight into the time period, and the different letters took me from Chicago to Skye to London.

The period details worked especially well at not making the story overly sentimental. As a hopeless romantic, this book checked all the right boxes for me, and with its World War era atmosphere (the commonness of writing letters, the sense of urgency in relationships), I didn’t feel like any of it was over the top. This is a love story, so if romances aren’t your thing, this might not be a good choice for you. However, it isn’t sappy or overdone.

I think my biggest disappointment with Letters from Skye is that it isn’t a true story. The language was so real, and the characters felt so alive, that there were times when I almost convinced myself it was true, that Brockmole merely found a trunk of letters somewhere and compiled them into a book. In addition, there was one letter that I thought was borderline unrealistic. By the end of the letter, I though the details included were justified, but it still seemed a little like maid-and-butler talk. That’s only one letter out of a whole book, though--hardly worth noting.

Fans of historical fiction and romance novels are likely to enjoy Letters from Skye, and do to the skillful writing, I also recommend it to those who favor literary fiction. Or everyone. That works, too.

PS--A big heck yeah to all the reviewers who wrote their reviews as a letter. I wanted to, but I’m very particular about keeping my format. :P

Quiverfull by Kathryn Joyce

Quiverfull: Inside the Christian Patriarchy Movement by Kathryn Joyce

Kathryn Joyce's fascinating introduction to the world of the patriarchy movement and Quiverfull families examines the twenty-first-century women and men who proclaim self-sacrifice and submission as model virtues of womanhood—and as modes of warfare on behalf of Christ. Here, women live within stringently enforced doctrines of wifely submission and male headship, and live by the Quiverfull philosophy of letting God give them as many children as possible so as to win the religion and culture wars through demographic means. (blurb from Goodreads)

Rating: PG-13, 4 stars
Trigger warnings: misogyny, domestic abuse, religious abuse

After being fascinated by the culture of the Westboro Baptist Church in Banished, I thought I’d give Quiverfull a try to look into the Christian patriarchy movement. This is a movement that gets surprisingly little attention, despite its increasing numbers and downright subversive potential. Quiverfull did an excellent job of satisfying my curiosity about this movement.

One thing that I loved about the book was the sheer number of interviews that Joyce managed to get. By using direct quotes from those within or formerly within the Christian patriarchy movement, Joyce not only gave herself more credibility, but I felt that the book was more balanced. Clearly, the author did not agree with the movement, but I also didn’t feel like she was just ranting against it the whole time. By providing quotes from people on both sides of the movement, I felt like the author left some room for the reader to come to their own conclusions.

I was also intrigued to see detailed reasons for why the Christian patriarchy movement believes what it believes. Through the interviews and Joyce’s own research, I was exposed to the biblical passages that these families most often follow to the letter, along with interpretations of what those passages mean in today’s society. It was nice to get all that background information laid out in such a detailed manner.

I do think the title of the book was a bit misleading, since not all Christian patriarchy families also follow the quiverfull philosophy, and there are only a few chapters that discuss the quiverfull lifestyle. I would have been interested to hear more about that, but the lack of information and interviews there may have been outside the author’s control.

I think this book could be triggering for anyone who has had particularly nasty experiences with organized religion, particularly with Christianity. There are several women interviewed in the book who discuss being advised to “fix” a marriage by being a proper wife even when their husbands were abusive. The book is also chock-full of misogyny from those in the movement--the evils of feminism are brought up several times in both interviews and quotes from pamphlets and books from within the movement. Joyce herself is clearly feminist, and these sexist notions come from the movement and not the author.

I recommend Quiverfull to anyone who is concerned about extremist Christianity or who is merely curious about American Christian culture and the different forms it can take. Quiverfull is a fascinating glimpse into a culture that is all the more interesting because I disagree with its tenants so much. It is a well-researched and gripping read.

Banished by Lauren Drain and Lisa Pulitzer

Banished: Surviving My Years in the Westboro Baptist Church by Lauren Drain and Lisa Pulitzer

NOW A NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER You've likely heard of the Westboro Baptist Church. Perhaps you've seen their pickets on the news, the members holding signs with messages that are too offensive to copy here, protesting at events such as the funerals of soldiers, the 9-year old victim of the recent Tucson shooting, and Elizabeth Edwards, all in front of their grieving families. The WBC is fervently anti-gay, anti-Semitic, and anti- practically everything and everyone. And they aren't going anywhere: in March, the U.S. Supreme Court ruled in favor of the WBC's right to picket funerals. 

Since no organized religion will claim affiliation with the WBC, it's perhaps more accurate to think of them as a cult. Lauren Drain was thrust into that cult at the age of 15, and then spat back out again seven years later. BANISHED is the first look inside the organization, as well as a fascinating story of adaptation and perseverance. 

Lauren spent her early years enjoying a normal life with her family in Florida. But when her formerly liberal and secular father set out to produce a documentary about the WBC, his detached interest gradually evolved into fascination, and he moved the entire family to Kansas to join the church and live on their compound. Over the next seven years, Lauren fully assimilated their extreme beliefs, and became a member of the church and an active and vocal picketer. But as she matured and began to challenge some of the church's tenets, she was unceremoniously cast out from the church and permanently cut off from her family and from everyone else she knew and loved. BANISHED is the story of Lauren's fight to find herself amidst dramatic changes in a world of extremists and a life in exile. (blurb from Goodreads)

Rating: PG-13, 3 stars
Trigger Warnings: emotional abuse, familial abuse, religious abuse, homophobia

The Westboro Baptist Church is pretty well-known today as an organization that pickets funerals and spews hate and negativity, particularly targeted at gay people. When I heard that a former member of the "church" had written a memoir of her time with the organization, I was really interested in seeing what she had to say.

I have to say, I love how balanced the book was. Of course, Lauren Drain left the WBC for a reason, so the book wasn't completely unbiased, but I thought that she painted a compelling picture of her state of mind while she was still in the WBC and how that deteriorated over time. I appreciated recognizing the abuse of her father even while she was explaining how she justified his words at the time.

I also liked being able to the members of the Westboro Baptist Church as people and not just picketeers. I vehemently disagree with everything they stand for, but I appreciated seeing their good sides as well as the bad. Humans are complex creatures, and it is easy to forget sometimes that even people we disagree with are good and bad.

I was particularly intrigued by Drain's portrait of the leaders of WBC. For example, before reading this book, I had no idea that any of the Phelps had jobs outside of the WBC. It didn't surprise me to find out that most of them were lawyers, however.

Due to the nature of the Westboro Baptist Church, the book may be upsetting or even triggering to those on the LGBTQ spectrum, survivors of emotional abuse, those who have had bad experiences with organized religion, and those who are or know people impacted by Westboro Baptist Church's pickets, especially those with ties to 9/11. Even so, the book is a fascinating read for anyone who is curious about the Westboro Baptist Church and would like a rare inside perspective.

Copper Girl by Jennifer Allis Provost

Copper Girl by Jennifer Allis Provost

 Sara had always been careful.
She never spoke of magic, never associated with those suspected of handling magic, never thought of magic, and never, ever, let anyone see her mark. After all, the last thing she wanted was to end up missing, like her father and brother.
Then, a silver elf pushed his way into Sara's dream, and her life became anything but ordinary. (blurb from Goodreads)

 Rating: PG-13, Did not finish
Trigger Warnings: stalking

 I tried to make it through this book for the sake of my review, but I just couldn't. I feel like there's a lot of potential in the story, but the writing just didn't live up.

 First of all, I don't know why, but I was under the impression that it was a YA novel. It most certainly isn't--for starters, the protagonist is definitely not a teenager, and a few pages into the book, she takes her underwear off while eating lunch in her office's courtyard. Definitely not YA (also, don't get me started on my hatred for the word "panties").

 In the first chapter, I felt jerked around by not knowing what time or place we were in. Sara starts off at a normal job, then there's a mention of robots, and then the magic comes into play. I don't necessarily want everything on the table when I start a book, but I like having some details to understand the world, and I simply didn't get that. By the time I did get some answers, they came in the form of Sara, as the narrator, interrupting the flow of action to explain things, in italics, to the reader. That sort of telling is forgiveable once, in my opinion, but it happened in the second chapter, too, and this time it carried on for over a page on my e-reader (it could be different in a printed book).

 Starting in the second chapter, I ran into an annoying amount of typos and random capitalizations. Most of the time I could still follow along with what was meant, but there were a few times when I couldn't. I also found myself rolling my eyes when Sara explained that she was a member of one of the most powerful magical families and was strong physically and smart...had the writing before this reveal been better, I might not have, but on top of everything else, it seemed like Sara was quickly becoming a Mary Sue.

 The last straw and main reason I stopped reading the book was because twice the first two chapters Micah, the hot elf guy that I bet you anything Sara falls in love with, stole Sara's panties underwear. I think the author was trying to be sexy, but all I felt was creeped out. This wasn't some game Sara and Micah were playing where both parties were consenting, it was a guy stealing a girl's underwear. Underwear that she had previously been wearing. Creepy.

 Again, I think there's potential here. I like the idea of magic being outlawed as a reaction to an equal rights movement. I think that's fresh and interesting. However, with the writing the way it is now, plus the creep factor, I just couldn't finish it.

Huntress by Malinda Lo

Huntress by Malinda Lo

Nature is out of balance in the human world. The sun hasn't shone in years, and crops are failing. Worse yet, strange and hostile creatures have begun to appear. The people's survival hangs in the balance.

To solve the crisis, the oracle stones are cast, and Kaede and Taisin, two seventeen-year-old girls, are picked to go on a dangerous and unheard-of journey to Tanlili, the city of the Fairy Queen. Taisin is a sage, thrumming with magic, and Kaede is of the earth, without a speck of the otherworldly. And yet the two girls' destinies are drawn together during the mission. As members of their party succumb to unearthly attacks and fairy tricks, the two come to rely on each other and even begin to fall in love. But the Kingdom needs only one huntress to save it, and what it takes could tear Kaede and Taisin apart forever.

The exciting adventure prequel to Malinda Lo's highly acclaimed novel Ash is overflowing with lush Chinese influences and details inspired by the I Ching, and is filled with action and romance. (blurb from Goodreads)

Rating: PG-13, 4 1/2 stars

Trigger Warnings: battle/fight scenes, violence, animal attacks, violence directed at children and babies, death

I actually enjoyed Huntress much more than Ash. Lo worked with a larger cast of characters in Huntress than Ash, and consequently there were a lot more characters that I sympathised with. Maybe it was because of the omniscient narration, but I cared about more than just Kaede and Taisin. I enjoyed the moments that focused more on Prince Con and the other members of their traveling party.

Those who have read Ash may recognize the bare bones of the story as one of fairy tales from Ash’s time. Since this is a prequel, Huntress is set in the same world as Ash, just much earlier in history. I really enjoyed the connections, particularly the transformation of the events in Huntress to the folklore in Ash. However, the two novels are not directly connected in terms of characters and immediate setting; you can definitely read one without the other.

I was surprised at the extent of the romance in the story. It is definitely more of an adventure novel than Ash, but the romance was still a main focus. I’d say for at least 90% of the novel there was a good balance between the romance and the action. There were a few moments when I felt the focus shifted too much to one side, but they were very rare.

I thought the the world-building was done very well, and I particularly like Lo’s take on traditional faerie lore. I liked the fact that not all of her fey were explicitly antagonistic. I liked the combination of traditional Celtic Sidhe with the Chinese-influenced spelling “Xi.” And I have to say, I really appreciate it when authors work the whole iron thing into their faerie stories.

*SPOILER* My biggest complaint with Huntress was the unicorn sub-plot at the end. It makes sense in context with Ash, because that part did play a part in Ash. However, I felt like it’s placement in the story made the ending a little anti-climactic for the amount of time given to the unicorn scene. I knew that I was like ten pages from the end of the book, and all of a sudden Kaede is sent on another mission. That just bothered me a little. However, I will say that I appreciate what that scene did for Kaede’s character. *END SPOILER*

There was quite a bit of violence in the book, including a scene where the characters were attacked by wolves, and two scenes that featured violence against infant-like creatures. In addition, some characters do die. So generally speaking, if violence bothers you, you might want to hold off on Huntress, or at least take it slowly. The violence was in no way out of place, given the story, but it was very much there.

All in all, I really enjoyed Huntress. I look forward to reading more of Lo’s work, and I hope she returns to the setting of Ash and Huntress in the future.

The Miseducation of Cameron Post by Emily M. Danforth

The Miseducation of Cameron Post by Emily M Danforth

When Cameron Post's parents die suddenly in a car crash, her shocking first thought is relief. Relief they'll never know that, hours earlier, she had been kissing a girl.

But that relief doesn't last, and Cam is soon forced to move in with her conservative aunt Ruth and her well-intentioned but hopelessly old-fashioned grandmother. She knows that from this point on, her life will forever be different. Survival in Miles City, Montana, means blending in and leaving well enough alone (as her grandmother might say), and Cam becomes an expert at both.

Then Coley Taylor moves to town. Beautiful, pickup-driving Coley is a perfect cowgirl with the perfect boyfriend to match. She and Cam forge an unexpected and intense friendship--one that seems to leave room for something more to emerge. But just as that starts to seem like a real possibility, ultrareligious Aunt Ruth takes drastic action to "fix" her niece, bringing Cam face-to-face with the cost of denying her true self--even if she's not exactly sure who that is.

The Miseducation of Cameron Post is a stunning and unforgettable literary debut about discovering who you are and finding the courage to live life according to your own rules. (blurb from Goodreads)

Rating: PG-13, 4 stars

Trigger Warnings: homophobia, ex-gay camp, familial death, drugs, transphobia, sexual content

This was another one of the books that I read while at Plum Village monastery, and like Wildthorn, it eerily paralleled my experiences...must be something about following a more rigid schedule (if you can call a mindful, monastic schedule rigid) while reading about someone following a rigid schedule.

Like Ash, I feel like the blurb to this book was slightly misleading. I expected the majority of the book to take place at the pray-the-gay-away camp and for the book to have a much darker tone overall. I was pleasantly surprised at the lighter tone of the novel and at the depth of the characters. I did not expect to see Cameron struggle so much with her identity or with the death of her parents, and I’m glad she did. It’s refreshing to see a novel with a gay protagonist who struggles not with coming out, but accepting her identity and coming to terms with how that will affect those around her in both positive and negative terms. It was also nice to see that the main focus of the novel was not a romance. There were some flings throughout the course of the novel, but they absolutely were not the main plot.

Given that this is essentially a book about a lesbian teenager in the 80s subverting her aunt’s conservative Christian culture, I wasn’t surprised at the swearing and drug content, but some might be bothered by it. Nothing stronger than marijuana is ever used in the book, but there is swearing left and right, as you might expect from the rural Montana setting. There are also some rather sexual dream scenes that culminate in a non-dream sexual scene.

All in all, this was a really pleasant read full of realism and well-developed characters. The Miseducation of Cameron Post does an excellent job of dealing with some heavy topics while still remaining a moderately light-hearted novel. I recommend it for fans of contemporary YA, (recent) historical YA, and gay protagonists/sexual identity novels.

Wildthorn by Jane Eagland

Wildthorn by Jane Eagland

Seventeen-year-old Louisa Cosgrove longs to break free from her respectable life as a Victorian doctor's daughter. But her dreams become a nightmare when Louisa is sent to Wildthorn Hall: labeled a lunatic, deprived of her liberty and even her real name. As she unravels the betrayals that led to her incarceration, she realizes there are many kinds of prison. She must be honest with herself - and others - in order to be set free. And love may be the key... (blurb from Goodreads)

Rating: PG-13, 4 stars

Trigger Warnings: institutional abuse, familial abuse, death

When I first heard about Wildthorn a few years ago, I got a vibe that it hit a subgenre that I rarely see covered: lesbian historical YA. YA novels featuring gay characters are becoming more and more prominent, but most of them seem to focus on gay males, and historical fiction with LGBTQ characters is still rare. So when I got this vibe, I was instantly intrigued and snagged the ebook when I had the chance.

I really appreciate the way everything unfolded in Wildthorn. I thought the concept of Louisa knowing everything and not telling the reader worked really well, even though it could have failed drastically. Fortunately, it didn’t, and I enjoyed not knowing things before the protagonist for once.

I had an interesting experience reading this book, because I read it while I was on a retreat at a Buddhist monastery. In many ways, my routine was similar to Louisa’s at the asylum, although my experience was entirely positive: I had set wake up times and meals; there were afternoon activities and chores; and all the laypeople had very different reasons for being there. So it was really different to read this book in circumstances that were so similar and yet almost the opposite of Louisa’s.

The setup of the book surprised me. The vibe I got was that the book would be entirely about Louisa’s sexuality, but I was pleasantly surprised to find that that wasn’t her only characteristic, and wasn’t what her family saw in her at all. I think there’s a risk in these sorts of YA novels for sexuality to be the protagonist’s only defining feature, and I was pleased that Louisa was a fully fleshed-out character.

In general, I thought all the characters were well-developed and realistic. I had some slight issues with how accepting Eliza’s family was, given the Victorian time period, but it didn’t seem out of their characters, just out of place for the time.

I think Wildthorn is a fascinating novel for readers today, particularly for female readers. *SPOILER* Considering that Louisa is locked up for reading, wanting to go to college, having priorities other than perfecting her appearance, among other things, female readers will likely really empathize with her based on these potential similarities. I know I did. *END SPOILER*

Wildthorn is a dark novel, and institutional abuse is prevalent, as is some familial abuse at the hands of Tom, Louisa’s brother. However, I’ve certainly read darker novels, and no part of Wildthorn was so intense that I actually had to put it down. It’s a good work of historical fiction, and it opens up some new perspectives for the reader.

The Selection by Kiera Cass

The Selection by Keira Cass

For thirty-five girls, the Selection is the chance of a lifetime. The opportunity to escape the life laid out for them since birth. To be swept up in a world of glittering gowns and priceless jewels. To live in a palace and compete for the heart of gorgeous Prince Maxon.

But for America Singer, being Selected is a nightmare. It means turning her back on her secret love with Aspen, who is a caste below her. Leaving her home to enter a fierce competition for a crown she doesn't want. Living in a palace that is constantly threatened by violent rebel attacks.

Then America meets Prince Maxon. Gradually, she starts to question all the plans she's made for herself—and realizes that the life she's always dreamed of may not compare to a future she never imagined. (blurb from Goodreads)

Rating: PG-13, 3 stars

Trigger Warnings: violence, mention of sexual assault

I enjoyed this book a lot more than I thought I would. It’s lighthearted fluff, but that doesn’t mean that it can’t be enjoyed...indeed, I found it to be a very pleasant read. Love triangles aren’t anything new at this point, but I liked the setup that Keira Cass chose here, because it allowed America’s relationship with Maxon to really develop unhindered.

I was also pleasantly surprised by non-romantic plot points. I enjoyed the commentary on classism. Basically, I like my dystopian fiction with a political leaning, and The Selection delivered on that front in ways that I honestly wasn’t expecting.

Given the commercial nature of dystopian fiction today, as well as the commercial nature of YA fiction with love-triangles, I wasn’t surprised by the plainness of the writing. The Selection isn’t a book you read for the poetic imagery or the skillful sentences. However, it is a book you read for an interesting plot and engaging characters.

The book started as a light-hearted Bachelorette meets Hunger Games, but you’d be mistaken to assume that there’s no action or that it’s all the girl-vs-girl competition variety. I loved America’s interest in the condition of her country, and how that developed into an understanding of the country’s problems, which was further exacerbated by events in the palace (ok, that’s a little vague, but I’m trying to avoid a spoiler warning here).

Towards the end of the novel, there is some violence, and a character is very obviously triggered. There are also veiled mentions of sexual assault.

I’m quite interested in seeing how Cass continues the series, particularly in the balance between the competition and the growing unrest in the country. Elite, the sequel, will make an excellent summer read, and I look forward to diving in.

Bitterblue by Kristin Cashore

Bitterblue by Kristin Cashore

Rating: PG-13; 5 stars

Summary: Bitterblue is a sequel to Graceling and a companion to Fire. Taking place eight years after Graceling, the story follows Queen Bitterblue in her journey to help her country recover after Leck's reign. The book is filled with political intrigue, romance, science, war, and much more. Although the book focuses on Bitterblue, familiar characters, such as Katsa, Po, and Fire, do make an appearance. The book is both a companion and a sequel in the truest sense: it directly continues events set forth in Graceling, and characters and events from Fire do return in a significant way. The book follows both the progress of the country of Monsea and development of individual characters.

Opinions: The first year that I started this blog, I named Graceling my top book for the year. Later, I raved about Fire. However, it is only with Bitterblue that I am fully appreciating what Cashore has managed to do with the written word. Now don't get me wrong, I'm not saying Cashore is the next Dickens or Twaine. I'm not going to speak to that. Her first book is less than ten years old.

However, I think that what Cashore is writing is incredibly relevant today. Bitterblue alone discussed issues of homosexuality, parental pressure, self-injury, birth control, and pre-marital sex. And you know what? None of these were the focus of the story. While I'm all for the importance of books like Baby Be-Bop, by Francesca Lia Block, and Wintergirls, by Laurie Halse Anderson, I have to say that sometimes it's refreshing to read a book that opens and encourages a dialogue on these topics without making them the focus of the entire novel.

Besides these social issues that were present without being the focus, the novel did focus on issues of abuse and brainwashing. Cashore handles all issues deftly and sensitively. I think the choice of Queen Bitterblue as the protagonist works to the story's advantage: she discovers things along with the reader, which allows Cashore to really delve into the issues she is opening up a discourse on.

Before a friend of mine kindly loaned me her advanced copy of Bitterblue (thank you, Emily!), I read some reviews on Goodreads in anticipation of this book. I have to say, I was really upset by the amount of people who gave the book negative reviews because of the lack of focus on marriage. As much as I'm a romantic and enjoy a good happily-ever-after, the world isn't about marriage, and I think it's important that books show that there are other options. I won't say more on the matter, so as not to spoil anyone, but I was frustrated enough by these reviews to include it in mine.

I can't really say enough how much I enjoyed this book. Consistent with her two other books, Cashore manages to weave together many subtle themes and subplots into Bitterblue. To me, Bitterblue is part political novel, part psychological mystery, part mystery, part adventure, and all wonderful.

I'd recommend this book to any fans of Cashore's previous books, as well as anyone who enjoys high fantasy, and even historical fiction. The amount of psychology and politics in Bitterblue do make it rather similar to some historical fiction I've read. There is some violence and sexuality in this book, though I wouldn't call any of it explicit. There are also scenes which may be triggering to some people. In particular, I am thinking of scenes recounting abuse of both adults and children. Just a warning to folks. I enjoyed every page of this book, even when it frustrated me. It's definitely a worthwhile read, and it'll make a great summer read, too.