Life in America is vastly different from Kim's experience in Vietnam.  There, she felt smart.  Here, people think she's dumb just because she can't speak English.  There, she had lots of family nearby.  Here, she's lonely.  There, she ate familiar food, chatted in her native tongue, understood her world.  Here, everything is different, everything is new.  Does she have any hope of fitting in?  Will America—a place so foreign—ever feel like home?

Based on the author's own experience as a child, Inside Out and Back Again by Thanhha Lai offers a uniquely authentic perspective on immigration.  Written in verse, it's a spare narrative, but one that's nevertheless vivid, poignant, and heartbreaking.  It's a story that will resound with anyone who's ever felt out of place, while teaching all of us a valuable lesson about acceptance.  Inside Out and Back Again proves that everyone has a story worth knowing—if only we'll take the time to listen.  A beautiful, award-winning book, this poignant novel-in-verse should not be missed.

(Readalikes:  Reminds me of The Girl in the Torch by Robert Sharenow and other stories about immigrant children)

Grade:

I'm not sure why I thought Feed, a 2002 National Book Award finalist by M.T. Anderson, had to do with zombies. Maybe because of the title? Or maybe because the closer we creep to 2012, the more nervous I get about an undead apocalypse? Anyway, whatever the reason, I was totally wrong. No zombies shuffle their way through this book. Except, sort of, in a way, they do. Only they're not the slobbering, walking dead variety. Not exactly.

In this futuristic YA novel, almost anything has become possible. Spring Breakers can party on the moon. Jet-setting off to Mars is completely doable. And no one has to go offline. Ever. Feeds are transplanted straight into people's brains, allowing them to not just stand, but live their entire lives, at the very center of the information superhighway. A constant stream of content pours into their heads, meaning they never have to sound ignorant, never have to wonder about anything, never need to bother with learning or thinking at all. Ads flash through their minds continually, keeping them up-to-date on the latest fashion trends, celebrity breakups and cool, new gadgets. With a functioning feed, they can fit in anywhere, with anyone.

But what happens when a feed malfunctions? Titus is about to find out.

When the teenager and his friends go looking for a little lunar fun, they discover something: the Moon kinda sucks. In no time, their little excursion has gotten totally null. They're bored out of their feed-blasted minds. Then, Titus meets Violet Durn. Not only is Violet stunningly beautiful, but she's different. Like, somehow she seems more real than anyone else Titus has ever known. She's a little out of the loop, sure, but she's unique, something exciting to brighten his dull vacation. Titus convinces a reluctant Violet to come party with him and his friends at a night club his feed assures him is hot. He's having a good time (even if she's not) when the unthinkable happens - a raging doomsayer hacks into both their feeds, spamming them with angry extremist mumbo jumbo. In order to get their systems back online, both their feeds will have to be shut down. Immediately.

Without the noise in his head, Titus experiences an unsettling quiet, a kind of clarity he's never known before. Between the weird emptiness in his brain and Violet's odd observations about life (""Everything we've grown up with - the stories on the feed, the games, all of that - it's streaming our personalities so we're easier to sell to ...'" [97]), Titus literally does not know what to think. Even when the feed doctors reboot him and everything's back to normal, he's out of sorts, a feeling which only increases when Violet gives him some very disturbing news. Suddenly, Titus is asking questions he's never even considered before: What, in his life, is real? Who is he - his own person or some kind of product manufactured by the wily feed gods? If he didn't have his feed to stuff him full of info, would he be worth anything at all?

The allegorical Feed offers a chilling commentary on our Internet/Facebook/Twitter-obsessed times. In alternately frenetic (when he is on feed) and calmer (when he's off) chapters, Titus explores concerns that plague all of us with our increasingly virtual lives - realitiy vs. the online world; genuine human conversation vs. instant messaging, Facebook status updating, and Tweeting; true scholarship vs. copycat research; and developing authentic personality vs. allowing marketers to tell us who to be. The book's lesson isn't very subtle, but the plot's entertaining and Anderson's point comes across in a way that's both vivid and affecting. I can't say I loved Feed; I can say I appreciated it. And I haven't stopped thinking about it. Must be the zombie thing ...

(Readalikes: Reminded me a little of Girl Parts by John M. Cusick and, oddly, of the movie Wall-E)

Grade: B

If this were a movie, it would be rated: R for strong language

To the FTC, with love: I received a finished copy of Feed from the generous folks at Candlewick Press. Thank you!

In a world that's short on everything, salvaging is big business. Even a scrawny teenager like Nailer Lopez could make his fortune with one "Lucky Strike." While he's fantasizing about the good life, though, Nailer's got to live his real one, which means making quota. Every day, he squirms through rusting supertankers looking for anything that can be sold off for profit - copper wire, aluminum, nickel, steel clips, and, scarcest of all, oil. If he brings out enough of the good stuff to satisfy his boss he'll keep himself employed, earning barely enough to feed himself. It's a hardscrabble existence, but it's the only one he's ever known. A long time ago, he's heard, people lived in mansions, ate whenever they pleased, and traveled the world in gas-guzzling automobiles. That world is gone now, drowned in the sea, and this brutal new existence is all that remains.
When Nailer discovers a luxurious clipper ship run aground after a hurricane, he knows he's finally found his own, personal "Lucky Strike." There's all kinds of scavenge on the boat, not just metal, but food and swank stuff like furniture, art and silk clothing. All of it ripe for the picking. But as Nailer combs through it all, he discovers a different sort of scavenge - a beautiful girl, half-dead, decked out in enough gold to feed Nailer for the rest of his life. He could kill her, take her jewelry, her ship, her food. He'd probably be doing her a favor. His father would do it in a heartbeat, but Nailer's not that cold-hearted. Besides, the girl represents the one thing he wants more than anything else - escape. All he has to do is keep the swank hidden from rival scavenge gangs until her people come to rescue her. Then, he'll have it made.
What should be a simple rescue mission quickly becomes a frenzied race for survival. As Nailer smuggles snooty Nita Chaudhury into the sunken city of Orleans, he'll have to outwit the bloodthirsty bounty hunters who track his every move. Is snobby Nita really worth the effort? Will she keep her promise once she's rescued? Or is Nailer destined to risk his life over and over again in pursuit of the kind of life that just doesn't exist for a scrappy ship breaker like him?
Paolo Bacigalupi's debut YA novel, Ship Breaker, is dystopian at its very best. The National Book Award nominee (2010) combines colorful characters, heart-stopping action, and strong, vivid prose to create a story that comes alive with startling vibrancy. Although the story takes place in a fractured world, it's Bacigalupi's deconstruction of humanity that makes the novel so impactful. To put it simply, Ship Breaker is fast-paced, finely-plotted, first-class entertainment. Blood and rust (as Nailer wold say), I loved it.
(Readalikes: a little bit like The Hunger Games trilogy by Suzanne Collins and The Maze Runner by James Dashner)
Grade: A
If this were a movie, it would be rated: PG-13 for language (no F-bombs), violence and mild sexual innuendo
To the FTC, with love: I received an ARC of Ship Breaker from the generous folks at Hachette Book Group. Thank you!

I've read plenty of books about slavery, but none as powerful as Chains by Laurie Halse Anderson. What makes the story so compelling? Perhaps it stands out because of its unique time period or because of the subtlety with which Anderson weaves the tale of a young girl's fight for freedom with America's own struggle for independence. Or it could be the simple fact that I can no longer read stories like these without picturing my daughter. What would her fate have been, with her milk chocolate skin and tight black curls, in an age of absolute intolerance toward anyone with even a drop of African blood? The mere thought is enough to send ice through my veins. For all these reasons and more, Chains swallowed me whole, ravished my insides, then spat me back out, desperate for more. It's not an easy read, not at all. It is troubling, touching, illuminating and very, very worthwhile.
The story opens with the death of Miss Mary Finch, a passing that both saddens and cheers 13-year-old Isabel. Although her mistress was kind, the slave girl can't wait to be her own boss lady. But before she's allowed to get even a taste of the freedom Miss Finch promised her, Isabel finds herself sold to the highest bidder. Along with her younger sister, Ruth, Isabel sails from Rhode Island to New York, where she becomes a servant in a grand house on Wall Street. Her new owners, the Locktons, are proud and wealthy Loyalists, disdainful of American rebels and slaves who dare use their tongues for anything other than licking the boots of their betters. Isabel's determined to keep her head down, avoiding her cruel mistress whenever possible. It's only when Madam does the unthinkable that Isabel puts up a fight. And is violently punished for her efforts.
Although Isabel cares little for the mounting conflict between the British and the Americans, aiding the Locktons' enemies gives her some small satisfaction. Not only is she fighting back against her hateful owners, but selling their secrets means winning favor with Patriot bigwigs who she hopes will repay her with freedom. Plus, she owes Curzon, the slave boy who once saved her life. Spying is a risky business for anyone, let alone a slave girl whose fate lies at the hands of an already malicious mistress. While the American Revolution explodes around her, Isabel must fight with everything she has - for her freedom, for her sister, for her life.
Every book I've ever read about slavery in America took place during the Civil War era. Somehow, I never even thought about the practice existing 100 years earlier. Anderson dissolved my ignorance with exhaustive research and painstaking detail, painting a heartrending portrait of early American slavery. The irony of a group of people risking life and limb for independence but refusing to grant it to others snakes through the story, bringing home the astounding hypocrisy embraced by so many people throughout the history of our young country. Anderson's message blares loud and clear, although it flows delicately through tight prose, vivid detail, and memorable characters. Although the author takes her time telling the tale, Chains offers a story that's enthralling, empathetic and exquisitely engineered. Historical fiction at its absolute best, this important book is not to be missed.
(Readalikes: Day of Tears by Julius Lester; Black Angels by Linda Beatrice Brown; Numbering All the Bones by Ann Rinaldi; Forge by Laurie Halse Anderson [sequel to Chains])
Grade: A-
If this were a movie, it would be rated: PG for depictions of cruelty, racism and war-related violence
To the FTC, with love: I bought Chains with a portion of the millions I make from my lucrative career as a book blogger. Ha ha.

Evie Spooner's used to going without. It's what she did during the war. It's what everyone did. Now that Hitler's been defeated and the troops have come home, though, things are changing. Victory gardens are turning back into lawns; food's no longer being rationed; people are buying new homes; things are looking up for everyone. Even though Evie's still stuck living with her battleaxe of a step-grandmother, she's thrilled that her stepdad made it home from the war in one piece. Now that Joe Spooner's building up a successful appliance business, their little family might finally be able to leave the city for a quaint suburban house of their own.
When Evie's dad suggests a spur-of-the-moment trip to sunny Florida, it seems to be just one more sign of the Spooners' newfound prosperity. Evie's never stayed in a hotel before, so the prospect of spending weeks in one feels so glamorous she wants to squeal with delight. So what if Palm Beach is basically deserted this time of year? There are enough guests at Le Mirage to make things interesting, especially when handsome Peter Coleridge shows up. Even though he's 8 years older than Evie, she quickly falls for her father's dashing army buddy. After so much "making do" during the war years, she feels like she's finally arrived - she's summering in tony West Palm, sunning herself on the beach, drinking freshly-squeezed orange juice, finally getting some attention from not just a boy, but a man, and doing it all without her grandmother's evil eye boring through her.
Evie hardly notices when things start to unravel. Only after a horrifying boat accident does she realize just how wrong things have become. It's only afterward, when she's forced to consider the events of the summer, that she finally asks herself the tough questions: Who was Peter, really? Was the tension she felt between him and her father just because of Peter's attention to Evie? And what truly occurred on the boat that night? The truths will shock her to her core, making her question not only herself, but also the people she loves the most.
Judy Blundell brings 1947 to vivid life in the noirish What I Saw and How I Lied, painting the post-war years in all their glitz and careful optimism. It's only through quick snapshots that the reader senses a dark undercurrent drifting below the story's glittering. Before he/she even really knows it, the reader's swept into a taut, well-paced thriller that's suddenly very hard to put down. Evie's infernal naivete makes the finale rather predictable, but there's enough going on to keep things interesting.
Whether it is that predictability, or Evie herself, or just a kind of coldness in the novel's tone, I didn't love this one like I wanted to. There's no question that the book is well-written and I don't hesitate to recommend it to fans of the genre - it's just not my favorite. Still, What I Saw and How I Lied is a sleek, smart little mystery that many will find riveting.
(Readalikes: I can't think of any, can you?)
Grade: B
If this were a movie, it would be rated: PG-13 for language and sexual innuendo/mature themes
To the FTC, with love: I received this book from Scholastic. Thanks!

It's nice to know that sitting among bookshelves full of vampires, werewolves, zombies and gangstas, a reader can still find stories full of old-fashioned innocence and charm. In fact, I purposely chose The Penderwicks because I needed a happy book to read after sinking myself into the bleak world of California gangbangers. Jeanne Birdsall's books about the quirky Penderwicks lightened my heart perfectly. As enchanting as classics like Little Women and Anne of Green Gables, these books simply should not be missed.

The Penderwicks introduces us to the family: There's Rosalind, the pretty, responsible 12-year-old; stubborn, tempestuous Skye; dreamy, romantic Jane; and their 4-year-old butterfly wing-wearing sister, Batty. Since the death of Elizabeth Penderwick, the sole captain of the "troops" is Martin Penderwick, a Latin-spouting botany professor. And, of course, there's Hound, their giant, misbehaving dog.

One summer, the lot of them pack themselves into the car headed for Cape Cod. Since their usual cottage has been sold, they're renting a vacation home they've never seen before. When they arrive at Arundel, they find an enormous mansion with extensive gardens (much to Martin's delight), a friendly teenage groundskeeper (much to Rosalind's delight), large fields perfect for soccer (much to Skye's delight), a sunny-perfect writer's room (much to Jane's delight), two rabbits (much to Batty's delight) and the young master of the house who, much to everyone's delight, turns out to be a grand friend. Jeffrey is nothing like his snooty mother or her nasty boyfriend, Dexter, both of him come to despise the rowdy girls who have invaded their guest cottage. The children, however, have a marvelous time exploring the giant house, playing soccer, shooting arrows at Dexter-shaped targets, and plotting how to get Jeffrey out of going to military school. Unfortunately, everything the Penderwicks do seem to have the exact opposite effect. They aren't about to let Jeffrey become a stiff-backed boy soldier, but how are they going to stop the dastardly plan? Two words: Penderwick Power.

When The Penderwicks on Gardam Street opens, the family is back in Cameron, Massachusetts with a brand new dilemma, one that will require even more plotting than rescuing Jeffrey from soldier school. When Aunt Claudia arrives on Gardam Street bearing a blue envelope - one which Rosalind remembers her mother giving to Claudia on her deathbed - it throws the household into a frenzy.
The letter inside, written by their mother before she died of cancer, encourages Mr. Penderwick to begin dating again. Horrified, the sisters hatch a plan to find the worst possible women for their father to court. That way, their father will not fall in love and they will never have a stepmother (shudder). Though limited to fairy tales and one summer with the dastardly Dexter, their experience with re-marriage has not been pleasant. They're not about to soil the Penderwick Family Honor by allowing it to happen to them.

In addition to putting the Save-Daddy Plan into action, the Penderwick sisters have several other mysteries to solve: What's eating Tommy Geiger? Who is the mysterious Bug Man? And how is Skye going to get herself out of a little disaster known as Sisters and Sacrifice?

Both books are written in such an appealing style that it's easy to overlook their faults. Jeanne Birdsall is just that kind of storyteller - she weaves the kind of magic that makes you care not at all about plotless storylines and predictable endings. Her characters are believable, fun and entirely lovable (except or Dexter, of course). The girls' misadventures will keep you reading, laughing and wishing you had more sisters in your life. Both books are treasures - for the young, the old and everyone in between. I can't recommend them highly enough.

Grade: A

If these were movies, they would be rated: G

To the FTC, with love: One of the books came from my private collection, the other is from my kids' school library.

(Book images are from Barnes & Noble)