Always Alice

There has always been Alice.

We went to the library a lot when I was a kid.  A lot.  Now that I work up in circulation, I realize that my family was the one the library assistants probably hated.  Baskets upon baskets of books. That was us.  My mom read from the children's section a lot.  She was the one who found Alice.

The Alice McKinley series is a long-running series by Phyllis Reynolds Naylor.  It follows Alice McKinley from age 8 to 60.  The majority of the series, being written for young people, focuses on age 8-18. There has been one book in the series per year for the past 25 years.

My mom knew I'd like Alice.  I think the time I first read her, Alice was just a few years older than me. Now, I'm older than her, and it's me, not my mom, finding the newest Alice books at the library and checking them out.

I can't remember a time where I went to the library and didn't know about Alice.  At various points in my life I have been both older and younger than Alice.  For the past six or so years, I've been older than Alice.  And the books don't have the same appeal as they once did, but I still like reading them.  After all, I did grow up with her.  I am her.

Next May, Always Alice, the final book in the series, will be published.  It truly is the end of an era for me.

The Alice series was the first series I remember DYING to read.  My mom would read the books before me to make sure they were appropriate, and I remember not being able to read Reluctantly Alice until I was in sixth grade. I couldn't wait to read those books.  And I remember when I got the go-ahead to read the newest Alice book without my mother's permission.  It was Alice on the Outside, and that cover (the original one, with the artwork of Patrick and Alice going in for the kiss) is burned into my brain.

Being able to read Alice on the Outside marks for me, when I was allowed free and full access to the library.  That I was allowed to make whatever reading decisions I wanted.

Alice means a lot to me in the mythology in my life as a reader.  The thought of not having a new book of hers to read for the first time in my entire life?  That's heavy.

I guess, in the end, it comes down to what I wrote in my Reader Profile for my Children's Library Materials class:

Reading Alice made me want to grow up sooner, partially because I thought Alice was just so cool and did such fun things, and partially because there were some books in the series my mom would not let me read until I was older.  At various points in my life, I have been both older and younger than Alice, and it is the one book series from my childhood that has not yet ended. The last book in the series comes out next summer, and that, I think, will mark the end of my childhood.  Not the fact that I am in my twenties and can rent a car—no, Alice finally growing up.  Alice was a friend who was always there—she made me laugh, cry, and no matter how embarrassing I thought my life was, Alice always did something way worse.   More than a small part of me will be sad to let her go next summer.

So I'm Not Going to Make It. Again.

In a turn of events that surprises no one, I'm not going to make 100 books this year either. I thought I had a real good chance, what with the three classes I took this year that were hardcore reading intensive.  And to be fair, if I were counting all the picture books and graphic novels I read this year, I'd have a 100 books easy.  But there's no challenge in that.  Not saying those books aren't worthy or anything, but it doesn't feel like so much of an accomplishment when you can knock out 25 books in a day.

So why did I fall short this year?  Honestly, I think it was that intense reading that did me in.  The fact is (and this I know well), that reading that much that fast really burns you out. Not that I'm turned off reading for good, but when reading is what you have to do, it's not something you choose to do when that obligation is over.  From February to April, I had read at least 3 books a week for school.  Sometimes five.  And every Wednesday (except for one), I had to read an entire book just to stay on top of things.  After all that reading is over with, sometimes you just want to sit and do nothing.

Am I disappointed?  Not really.  I'll still make 80 books easily, which totally shatters my personal best of 63.  And by personal best, I mean since I started keeping track of my reading in May 2008.  And I still cannot fathom how I only read 39 books one year.  I mean, that just doesn't sound like me AT ALL.

I'll be doing it all again next year.  It'll happen for me, someday.  I'll squeeze those 100 books into a single year.  Will it be next year?  Given that I still have at least one more reading-heavy class to go (Romance Fiction and Its Readers, aka THE BEST CLASS EVER), probably not.  But it never hurts to have that goal.

I'll get there.  Someday.

And hey, by then, I may even be better at this whole blogging thing.

59/100: Son by Lois Lowry

So first things first: The Giver is one of my favorite books.  It is, hands down, in my opinion, the best children's book ever written.  It is also probably the best dystopian novel EVER.  It is the standard by which I judge all other dystopian novels.

And I love the other two books in the series, Gathering Blue and Messenger.  And true, Messenger is a little messy at times, but in my mind, it does tie up the series.

But then I found out she wrote a fourth book.  I FREAKED.  In a good way.  Actually I was in my Teen Library Materials class and we were discussing dystopias and of course, The Giver came up.  I mentioned it was one of my favorites and another girl casually mentioned "You know she's coming out with another book, right?"  I SQUEALED with delight, promptly minimized the e-classroom and bought the book on Amazon.  Let's just ignore the fact that I'm a terrible online student, please.

And finally, after six months of waiting, I got to read Son.

First off, I was surprised to find that Son is quite a bit larger than The Giver or any other books in the series; it clocks in at 400 pages, almost twice that of The Giver.  I'm totally okay with that though, I haven't met a Lois Lowry book I don't like.

FANGIRL MOMENT: I think Lois Lowry is possibly the greatest children's book author of the 20th/21st century.  Her range is absolutely astounding.  The Giver breaks my heart every time I read it, and I fall in love with it over and over again each time I read it.  But her Sam Krupnik series is so hilarious there are TEARS OF LAUGHTER streaming down my face every time I read it.  Seriously, the woman has mad skills and I want to be her when I grow up.

Anyways, Son is the story of Claire, a Birthmother from the community featured in the The Giver.  The book covers quite a large span of time (about 15 years), starting with the action running parallel to The Giver, then to Messenger, and finally, seven years after the events of Messenger.  Part 3 also tells the story of Gabe, the baby Jonas takes with him when he leaves the community.  While it was INSANELY hinted at in the previous 2 books that Jonas had survived his escape from the community, in Son Jonas is actually a major character so you know he survived.

I know a lot of people are disappointed that Lowry confirmed that Jonas survived The Giver.  But in mind, Jonas always survived.  Personally, I never thought that ending was all that ambiguous to begin with, especially when you consider what "Elsewhere" really means in the context of the book.  There's about a thousand other things that make The Giver so interesting.  Part of what makes it so fascinating is that you have this EXTREMELY varied world.  On the one hand, the community where Jonas, Gabe, and Claire live is very technologically advanced.  But the villages that Kira and Water Claire come from are rustic, almost medieval.  What the hell happened here? How did these varied societies come into existence?  But we never find that out.  That alone is worth hours of speculation.

Anyways, the end of part 1 of Son takes place the same time that the The Giver ends.  But because Claire loses her memory, all we know about that time is that it's "hazy." We never actually find out what happens to the community. Part of me hates the fact that we're never told what happens to the community.  Or what happens to The Giver himself.  But the other part of me thinks that's part of the beauty of this series.  The most we get is a line in Messenger, where Jonas tells Matty that he was sent all the Giver's books from the community, so he believes things have changed for the better.  But he simply believes.  He doesn't know.  So the reader doesn't know either.  On the one hand, it's maddening, especially since we're given a chance to find out in Son, given the timeline of events in the book.  But on the other hand, it's just absolutely brilliant of Lowry.  She maintains the mystery of The Giver.  So maybe the question is no longer "Did Jonas survive?" but "What happened to the community?" Which, in my mind, was the far more important question.

I guess why I think her dystopias are so amazing are the fact that she doesn't tell you everything.  Most people agree that the beauty of dystopias are that they make you think about the society that you're in, and if our society could become that place.  Recent dystopias often fill in those blanks for you, explaining how society arrived at that state (I'm looking at you, Suzanne Collins).  But Lois Lowry doesn't, and there are many possible conclusions that can be supported by the text.  IT'S FUCKING BRILLIANT, PEOPLE.

I realize that I've talked mostly about The Giver here, but let's face it, I could talk about that book for DAYS.  IT'S AMAZING.  But Son is a nice companion to the series.  It provides answers, sure, but it still leaves many more questions for readers to speculate on.  Do I think it's the end of the series?  Perhaps.  But then again, I thought the same thing about Messenger and was treated to Son eight years later.  I'm sure Lois Lowry is always willing to leave the door open.

52/100: Gone Girl

So school's starting again on Monday (boo).  And, depending on my reading list for Children's Library Materials, I should be able to make my goal of 100 books this year! I hope.  We all know reading-related disasters could happen at any time.

Anyways, I was reflecting tonight over the best book I read over the summer.  And, really, there was no contest for the winner:

Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn

Now, I don't normally read suspense--and indeed, when I had to read a suspense novel for class last semester I wasn't really impressed with the book I chose.  But this book piqued my interest for an entirely different reason: people kept letting it go overdue.  Most people are pretty on top of renewing their library materials, but for some reason, when I told people this book was overdue, they'd say "I know, but I just HAVE to finish it."

Okay, I thought.  This book must be good if people are willing to pay fines to finish it.

So, without knowing anything about the book (I mean, I hadn't even read the synopsis on the jacket), I decided to put it on reserve.  But then I saw there were like 190 reserves on it so I said screw it and decided to wait.

But then! As if the library gods knew, it came through as a donation.  When I saw it on our for sale shelf the next day, I snapped it up.  If it's worth 10 cents a day to read, surely it was worth $3 to own?

OH MAN YES IT WAS.

This book is MESSED UP.  I mean, REALLY MESSED UP.

The story takes place in a fictional town in Missouri, along the Mississippi River.  It follows two people, Amy and Nick Dunne, who are facing some rough waters in the marriage.  On their 5th wedding anniversary, Amy goes missing.  The novel covers the investigation through the alternating perspectives of both Amy and Nick.  I can't really say a whole lot without giving things away.

The main point here is that this book is not what it seems.  And Gillian Flynn does an amazing job at drawing you in.  The book is divided into three parts.  In part one, everything seems pretty status quo for a suspense novel, but something is not quite right about it. You can't really put a finger on why things are off, but you know there's more to this story.  And then part two starts, and I swear to God, I have seriously never hated a fictional character so much in my LIFE.  Every time I turned the page, all I could say was "I hate this person.  I really fucking hate them." And then your rush through part 3 because HOLY CRAP YOU CAN'T BELIEVE THESE THINGS ARE HAPPENING.  You really can't believe the horrible things characters do to each other.

And the whole story is just...disturbing (but in a good-literature sort of way).  After I finished the book I felt the need to put it down and physically walk away from the book.  I was SO unsettled.  Almost in the same way I was mega-depressed after I finished The Bell Jar.  You know, the good kind of literature-empathy, as it were.

As awesome as this book was, though, I have two small complaints.  And these are mostly due to the fact that I grew up in Missouri.
1) Although Flynn uses a fictional town in Missouri, the location she is describing is geographically impossible.  North Carthage (the town in the book) is where Nick grew up, and it's described as being close enough to Hannibal so that Nick could have worked there as a kid, but no more than 45 minutes from St. Louis.  There is no location in Missouri--that borders the Mississippi--in which you are, at most, 30 minutes from Hannibal and 45 minutes from St. Louis.  St. Louis and Hannibal are 2 hours apart.
2) As you are driving towards St. Louis (as Nick does), the Arch does not "creep up the skyline." It is WAY downtown, and therefore you literally don't see it until you are in downtown and it peeks around a building.  (Now, coming from the Illinois side is a different story).

BUT THOSE THINGS ASIDE, this was truly an awesome book.  Totally recommend it, especially now that they're turning it into a movie.  Be ahead of the curve!

Heather Brewer

So tonight I went to the book launch party of Heather Brewer's new book, Soulbound. Now, I'll admit, I've never read a Heather Brewer book before.

I know. It's weird. Why would I go to a book signing for an author I've never read? Well, there were several reasons.

1) I LOVE author events. They have such great energy. As a writer, nothing gets me more motivated to write than to see another author talking about their work. And hearing someone read their own stuff? There's nothing like it. And lately, I've been running low on inspiration in the writing department, so I thought I might as well go to get myself inspired.

2) I'd heard good things about Heather Brewer's books in my Teen Library Materials class, and the last event she did at the library was apparently a great time had by all.

3) I have so very little in my life besides work. Sad but true.

4) Her new book totally sounds like something I'd read, so I was all over that. MOAR YA!!!

Now, the thing about going to a book signing for a YA and/or children's author when you're my age is that you have to be prepared to be the only person from your generation there. No really. The last two YA events I've gone to, I was the oldest person there who didn't have kids. It's basically a bunch of 10-15 year olds, ME, and then all the moms. Yes, I DID feel like a huge creeper, thanks for asking! It doesn't bother me enough to stop going, obviously, but still.


Anyways, I am so glad that I went. I've been to a few author events before and I've always enjoyed them greatly. But Heather Brewer...she's good. She writes YA, but she skews a little young (11-14). And any YA author, when they're talking to kids, won't talk down to them. They talk to kids like their feelings, opinions, and dreams are just as valid and important as any adults'. Which they are, but a lot of times teens aren't given a lot of credit for the depth they can possess.

But I don't know, something about the way she spoke was just...so utterly sincere. Like she really, honestly cared deeply for each and every person who came out to see her. And she was honest (particularly when she revealed her true feelings about Twilight. Haha). She was just so genuine, and I was really touched by that. Not that the other authors I've seen haven't been genuine, but none have been as....earnest as Heather Brewer. It was like she had this deep-seated respect for her readers, and that respect was something she cherished.

So I know I'm heading into sappy territory here, but the whole thing was such a positive experience for me. And of course, it did motivate me to write. What about, I don't know, but as Heather said, butt+chair=book.

 

 

Strong vs. Strong Female

I think a lot of people think Katniss Everdeen is a strong female character when in fact she's just a strong character.

"What's so important about the word female?" you ask. Well, a lot.

I think a lot of people are confusing being a "strong female character" with denying ALL aspects of the female sex. Think Lady MacBeth. But Lady MacBeth is huge bitch. The fact that she denies her sex is NOT A GOOD THING. I mean, going around and saying "out, damn spot" is not exactly healthy behavior.

And that's where Katniss comes in. She's a FEMALE and a TEENAGER and she doesn't act like it. I understand that she's compartmentalizing and she's been through a trauma and blah blah blah, but that's simply unrealistic. Look, I've met more than a few refugees. People who have witnessed and lived through unspeakable trauma. And you know what? Yes, they are more aware of the gravity of society than most people. But they still act their age.

Which is something Katniss does not do.

I feel like Katniss's characterization relies heavily on "well, she's been through trauma."  Which sure, is a good way to START characterizing someone, but to completely center someone's personality on trauma? It's just as flat as characterizing someone based on their relationship to another person (I think we all know what book I'm talking about here).

What does it say that we think a strong female character has to not act like a girl? In the same way I wouldn't want anyone to emulate Bella Swan, I wouldn't want anybody emulating Katniss, because she's too detached from her emotions.

I want my strong female characters to act like strong females. Not genderless or emotionless, which Katniss is. People value connection, and Katniss doesn't. I don't think we should extoll the virtue of someone who doesn't care about others out of anything other than obligation.

I guess my point here is that I feel that Katniss could have been a boy and it would have been the same story.  And that's not a strong female character.  It's just a strong character--which is fine, and it is something we need in literature (especially for teenage boys, who often feel alienated from female-protagonist YA lit because it "doesn't relate to them.") But I feel that in the steps people take to avoid gender stereotypes, they forget that it's okay to be proud of your gender.  You don't have to create gender neutrality in order to have a strong character.

Basically: it's okay to love your vagina.  They wrote a play about it.


A caveat here: A lot of the arguments I hear about Katniss being a strong female character rely heavily on the fact that "she's not interested in a romantic relationship." I want to be clear that I personally do not equate being a strong female character with having a romantic relationship.  There are plenty of ways to express being a strong female, and most of them have nothing to do with romance.  But in the following argument, I do talk a lot about romance simply because in the arguments about strong female characters, romance is cited quite a bit (eg, Bella is a weak character because she is too into Edward; Katniss is a strong character because she doesn't think about boys).  And I think that there is a relationship component to the whole strong female character thing.  That relationship is not necessarily romantic, but it often manifests as one.

So now I guess you're wondering: who do I consider a strong female character?  There's a great book series called Across the Universe by Beth Revis.  It's often used as a read-alike for The Hunger Games as well.  Across the Universe tells the story of Amy and Elder, two residents on the ship Godspeed.  Elder is one of the leaders of the ship; Amy is a passenger from Earth who has been in suspended animation for 300 years.  The plot revolves around uncovering the secrets aboard Godspeed and making decisions about what is "best" for a society (it's also unique in that it's one of the few dystopias that really makes you understand why society got to such a point, and how leaders decide what to do next).

While the story itself is fascinating, Amy is what really makes the series for me.  Amy acts like a teenage girl, which, in my opinion, is something you don't see in a lot of dystopias these days.  Amy struggles with her emotions like a 17-year-old would.  She thinks critically about her relationship with Elder: does she truly like him, or does she like him because he's the only thing available? I realize that it could be argued that Katniss has a similar struggle, but I feel like the closest Katniss gets to thinking about it is "Does he? Well, I'll think about that later."  And even then, I don't feel any EMOTION there.  But when Amy and Elder need to put aside their relationship so they can focus on the ship, they do.  They can be serious, but they can also be teenagers.

And that's what makes Amy a strong female character.  That's she's confident in herself, and she consider her own feelings.  She acts like a girl, and is proud of being a girl.  She recognizes the risks of being a woman on Godspeed (the society is, in theory, egalitarian, with a notable exception that makes Amy vulnerable), and addresses them without denying her sexuality.  Which is something Katniss does not do.

Both Katniss and Amy have to compartmentalize in order to survive.  Katniss does it to become dead inside, and I struggle to accept a protagonist who is so distanced from her emotions.  Being strong doesn't mean denying your emotions.

I think the popularity of Katniss stems at least in part from the backlash against Bella Swan and Twilight.  Bella is so ruled by emotions that she becomes weak.  Some readers see Katniss and think: she's so good at controlling her emotions, she must be strong!  She's so unlike Bella! Which is true, of course, but just because she isn't consumed by emotions doesn't make her better than Bella.  If anything, Katniss is consumed by her lack of emotion.

This is why characters like Amy get lost in the mire.  Like Katniss, Amy must compartmentalize, but instead of negating her emotions, Amy channels them into her cause.  Her emotions are realistic, and sadly, in the world of YA, this is what causes her to become lost.  She's not emotional enough for fans of Bella, but she's too emotional for fans of Katniss.

There needs to be a middle ground.  It's the characters like Amy, the ones who forge and exist in that middle ground, that are the strongest female characters of all.

Ash by Malinda Lo

I just finished Ash by Malinda Lo. It's a lesbian retelling of Cinderella. Which is a cool concept. But it's a bit of surprise!lesbianism, which is something I don't really enjoy.  I'm not a fan of any sort of surprise!relationship in a book, no matter where on the spectrum of sexuality it falls.  It doesn't matter who's falling in love with whom, I need to know WHY these people are falling in love.

And in this book, I don't understand why Ash (the Cinderella character) loves Kaisa (who is basically the prince here). Quite literally, the moment of falling happens in one sentence. Ash doesn't even THINK about Kaisa that way until someone plants the idea in her head. The relationship between Ash and Sidhean (the fairy godfather in this story) is far better developed. It happens in a distanced, fairy tale sort of way, but you understand their attraction to one another. And the writing implies that the attraction is mutual.

The one thing this book had going for it was its views on sexuality. In this society, homosexuality was normalized--that is, nobody made a big deal if you liked people of the same gender. It was just another option. And it's implied (though somewhat unconsciously; it doesn't seem to be a very developed idea, as if Lo herself didn't know what she was talking about) that sexuality is a spectrum, not an either/or choice. It's quite clear that Ash has feelings for both Sidhean and Kaisa. Which is something that happens in real life.

However, Lo seems to completely ignore these ideas. Instead of recognizing that sexuality is not black and white; that you can have feelings for multiple genders, and that there are other definitions of sexuality between gay/straight/bi, Lo goes with a standard definition. Ash is a lesbian. That's all there is to it. That's how Lo views it. But the thing is, the text doesn't support that characterization. It's like Lo was trying to fit Ash into a box, and the fact of the matter is, she doesn't. And that's the way a lot of sexuality works: it doesn't fit neatly into a box. It's okay to have radical ideas about gender and sexuality. Just because it's a lesbian retelling doesn't automatically make it revolutionary or insightful. If the idea here is to normalize homosexuality (which I'm all for), then we should judge the book and the relationship itself on how well it is constructed. Which in this case is not good.

Without proper character development, this lesbian storyline comes off as a cheap trick. And what's more irritating is that Ash is completely helpless. Just because the main character is a lesbian doesn't mean the story is progressively feminist. What I mean is that Ash is saved by someone else, both a man and a woman. It doesn't matter that the twist is that she's saved from poverty by a woman; she still has to be saved. She still needs to be protected. How is that challenging prevailing ideologies about gender?

One thing we talked about a lot in my Teen Library Materials class (which is where I read this book) is the need for quality books about LGBT issues.  Serving LGBT youth is considered one of the critical needs of YA librarianship.  And that's why I had such high hopes for <i>Ash</i>.  It seemed like a book that had a higher level of understanding of the concepts of gender and sexuality.  But instead of going outside the box, Lo forces the story into a standard format, and the story completely falls apart. The lesbian aspect of this story comes off as a cheap trick, and I don't think anybody takes too kindly to a writer using a hook like that to draw in readers, especially when it can be such a touchy issue.

Thumped

*gasps for air*
Yes, yes, I'm still alive, I promise. And been doing lots of reading! I've just been buried under a mountain of schoolwork. And yes, while I should have finished the memoir I'm supposed to have read by tonight at 6, I decided to read something else:

Thumped by Megan McCafferty

I didn't realize it until just now, but the one other time I blew off end-of-semester work for a book was when Perfect Fifths (another Megan McCafferty book) came out. So it says a lot about my love for this woman.

So Thumped is the sequel to Bumped, which follows twin sisters, Melody and Harmony, in a world where a virus has made it such that most people become infertile by age 18. So, in order to keep the population up, teenagers are encouraged to get "bump" and "preg" for profit. Harmony was raised in a religious community called Goodside, where traditional values prevail, and Melody was raised to be millionaire pregger. When the two meet for the first time, both Melody and Harmony are forced to re-examine your value system.

While reading Thumped, I often felt uneasy, and I was unsure if I really liked the book or not. But once I realized that while it may be billed as a dystopia, it doesn't fit into that traditional category of YA dystopias. Oh sure, many of the same elements are there, but there's something very different about Thumped.

First, a random aside: the slang in this world is extremely well developed. While I love dystopias, I usually find the imaginary slang in them to be a bit forced. But the slang in this series is flows very naturally. It takes a few chapters to get used to, but once you do, it really adds to the setting rather than detracts from it like slang in other dystopias.

Now to the good stuff...
What separates Thumped from other dystopias is how closed in it feels. Chapters switch between Melody's and Harmony's point of view. And as things happen around them and they're confused by it all, so are we. The story is very personal: unlike a lot of dystopias, it's not focused on criticizing some aspect of our current society. True, the story was inspired by all the media attention the girls on 16 and Pregnant and Teen Mom were getting, but to say that teen pregnancy is glamorized in this country is an overstatement. Anyways, my point here is that Thumped is not some grand commentary about how depraved society has gotten. It's about what happens when people live in a world that is the completely opposite of what it was a generation ago. The Virus in the story is fairly new (less than 50 years old), so there are generations of people who still remember the way things used to be. Melody and Harmony are part of a generation who need to figure out their place in a changed world. So the story is not about taking down a Big Bad, merely changing the way people view the world. It's not about the end of a revolution, but the start of one. Society doesn't change totally overnight.

And what I love is that the ending of Thumped is somewhat ambiguous. I mean, you come away knowing that the characters have made the right choices and that certain things are going to change, but there hasn't been some magic cure to the Virus. Harmony still knows she's got a long way to go. Melody's not entirely sure what her life is going to be now. But that's okay. Because that's how life works. And there's still enough of a sense of newness about this world that you as the reader are satisfied because you know there's room to grow. There's optimism, and for such a personal story, optimism is enough.

Both Bumped and Thumped are quite different from a lot of YA dystopias out there. And that alone makes them worth the read.

Let's Try This Again, Shall We?

So last year was a bit of a bust, with me clocking in at only 39 books read. Okay, so it was a major bust, I'll admit that.

But I am ready and willing to try this bad boy again (this will now be my third try, but I really am taking that "if at first you don't succeed" adage to heart). Is part of my motivation the fact that I'm in two reader's advisory courses this spring and that means reading a LOT of books for class? Why yes, yes it is. I'll take motivation anywhere I can find it, thank you very much.

No rules this year. As long as it's a novel, it counts. Manga and comics count.

Let's do this.

2011 Totals

2011 Book List:
1. Mockingjay - Suzanne Collins
2. The Seer and the Sword - Victoria Hanley
3. The Healer's Keep - Victoria Hanley
4. Water for Elephants - Sara Gruen
5. Across the Universe - Beth Revis
6. Life After Genius - M. Ann Jacoby
7. Queen of Babble - Meg Cabot
8. The Goose Girl - Shannon Hale
9. The Weird Sisters - Eleanor Brown
10. Delirium - Lauren Oliver
11. The Crimson Thread - Suzanne Weyn
12. The Storyteller's Daughter - Cameron Dokey
13. The Diamond Secret - Suzanne Weyn
14. Matched - Ally Condie
15. Howl's Moving Castle - Diana Wynne Jones
16. House of Many Ways - Diana Wynne Jones
17. Bumped - Megan McCafferty
18. Jane - April Lindner
19. Divergent - Veronica Roth
20. Abandon - Meg Cabot
21. Smokin' Seventeen - Janet Evanovich
22. The Misted Cliffs - Catherine Asaro
23. Overbite - Meg Cabot
24. The Dawn Star - Catherine Asaro
25. The Fire Opal - Catherine Asaro
26. The Night Bird - Catherine Asaro
27. Eon: Dragoneye Reborn - Alison Goodman
28. Eona: The Last Dragoneye - Alison Goodman
29. The Last Little Blue Envelope - Maureen Johnson
30. The Invention of Hugo Cabret - Brian Selznick
31. Incredibly Alice - Phyllis Reynolds Naylor
32. Not Without My Daughter - Betty Mahmoody
33. Sisterhood Everlasting - Ann Brashares
34. Incarceron - Catherine Fisher
35. Goliath - Scott Westerfeld
36. Modelland - Tyra Banks
37. Explosive Eighteen - Janet Evanovich
38. Wonderstruck - Brian Selznick
39. Encore - Joan Lowery Nixon

Total: 39


Best Book: Sisterhood Everlasting
Although I do have to give a shoutout to Modelland. It was far and away the most...interesting thing I've ever read. In years. It was kind of like a mixture between Lord of the Rings, The Hunger Games, and Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. It certainly was quite a trip.

Worst Book: Jane. In 2011, there is no excuse for keeping your crazy wife locked up in the attic. None. Also: mahogany lined box of condoms. It actually happened.

Disappointing Books:It'd have to be a tie between Eona: The Last Dragoneye and Delirium. Bot had interesting story ideas that interested me, but they fell flat. Eona wasn't a bad book, but something happens to a character in the last 25 pages of the book that a) is completely contrary to the path they'd been on for the previous 600 pages and b) completely undermines the strength of the main character. Not to mention that it displays a relationship with SERIOUS trust issues as being "solid." Um, no. And Delirium makes the grade simply because a single editing error on page 16 completely undermined the theme of the book.

Book I Hated with a Fiery Passion: Mockingjay. Character assassination and discarding plot simply to get out an anti-war message. And the laziest writing I think I've EVER read. You don't have a character pass out THREE TIMES during separate but equally important plot points. Just abysmal.

So...erm...quite a bit short of the 100 goal. But I'm okay with that. I can always try again, and I plan to do just that.