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Dana Carlson's in the middle of a demolition job when she gets a distressed call from her 16-year-old niece, Peyton.  Dana's got enough problems of her own—especially when a body is found in the building she just cleared for collapse—but Julie, her big sister, is dying.  It's been almost 20 years since the sisters have seen each other; still, it's Julie.  The secrets that have kept them separated all this time don't matter now.  Dana needs to see her sister, needs to see if she's a candidate for kidney donation, needs to try to save the person who once saved her.  

But she's too late.  When Dana arrives in Black Bear, Minnesota, the little town where she grew up, her sister's already gone.  Dead at 39.  Julie Kelleher leaves behind a grieving husband and a shattered teenage daughter.  Neither seem particularly eager for an intrusion from Julie's estranged little sister, but Dana's determined to stay.  She wants to know Julie's family, the only blood relatives she has left.  More importantly, she needs to figure out just what caused Julie to get sick.  Everyone warns Dana to leave it alone—her blunt inquiries around town are doing more damage than good—but she can't.  Something in Black Bear is not right and she's going to get to the bottom of it, no matter what it takes.

As Dana steps on toes all over Black Bear, she sees just how much things have—and have not—changed since her childhood days in the little town.  The residents are still tight-lipped, judgmental and very, very good at keeping their own secrets.  Secrets that could get them all killed.

Novels featuring small towns with big secrets always sound appealing to me, which explains why I picked up Invisible by Carla Buckley.  As intriguing as its premise is, though, its execution leaves plenty to be desired.  The characters aren't overly likable, the plot's pretty generic, and little about the story really rings true.  Dana's sudden interest in the goings on in Black Bear is especially odd, considering she hasn't cared a lick about them for almost two decades.  Ditto goes for her new-found concern for Peyton.  Dana swivels from uncaring to passionate so fast that the shift seems too false, too contrived.  It bugged me throughout the whole novel.  So did the predictable storyline, the wooden characters, and the gaping plot holes.  So, yeah.  Invisible didn't quite do it for me.  Ah, well.  You win some, you lose some.

(Readalikes:  Reminds me of dozens of other novels, although nothing's coming to my tired mind at the moment.  Suggestions?)

Grade:  

If this were a movie, it would be rated:  

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High school senior Val Jensen really isn't one for drama.  Usually.  But when her ex-boyfriend—who's still smarting because she refused to sleep with him—spreads a rumor that she's easy, Val snaps.  She stands up in the crowded lunchroom and yells out the truth for all to hear:  she's a virgin and will be until her wedding night.  Thanks to someone's cell phone camera, Val's impassioned speech hits YouTube, where it goes viral.

At first, she's mortified by all the attention.  Then, Val realizes that she has no reason to be.  By speaking up in defense of abstinence, she has the chance to help teenagers not just in Huntington Beach, California, but all over the country, maybe even the world, make smart decisions about sex.  She has a very good reason, too—her birth mother got pregnant way too early, resulting in Val being placed for adoption when she was an infant.  She doesn't want herself—or any of her friends—to have to endure that kind of heartache.

It's only when Val meets a totally irritating, but completely irresistible rock star that she begins to doubt herself.  Kyle Hamilton's the sexiest guy she's ever met and he's so hot for Val that he's writing hit songs about her.  How can she not give him everything he wants?  But if she does, she'll destroy all the good she's done as Virgin Val.  If she sticks to her guns, though, she may lose everything else.  As her life spirals out of control, Val must decide when to speak up, when to stand down, and how far she'll go to get what—and who—she wants.

I'd never heard of Kelly Oram until her latest novel, V is for Virgin, was nominated for a Whitney Award.  And even though I didn't love the book, I'm glad for the introduction to Oram's work.  She writes with a strong voice and a forthrightness that's both refreshing and instructive (without being too preachy).  Contemporary YA seems to be a natural fit for her.  That being said, I had a few issues with her latest (don't I always?).  Val, for me, is another one of those heroines who's way too into herself to be likable or sympathetic.  Her oh-poor-me-I'm-so-beautiful-that-every-guy-I-meet-falls-in-love-with-me act gets very old very quickly.  Plus, things go a little too smoothly for her.  Like I said before, I can't root for a heroine who doesn't have to fight a little bit to achieve her goal.  There were other things that bugged me about the story, like how Val's (supposedly attentive) parents let her date an older guy (without any protest) and attend wild adult parties dressed like a streetwalker (again, they say nothing?).  Also, the fact that said older guy—and his buddies—are going after high school girls.  And don't get me started on my love/hate relationship with the book's Epilogue.  So, despite the things I did like about this one, V is for Virgin ended up falling kind of flat for me.  Oram's on my Authors-to-Watch list, though, because I think she's got some definite potential.  Let's see if she lives up to it, shall we?

(Readalikes:  Reminded me a lot of Finding June by Shannen Crane Camp)

Grade:  B-

If this were a movie, it would be rated:  PG-13 for mild language (no F-bombs) and sexual innuendo

To the FTC, with love:  I received a PDF copy of V is for Virgin as part of my involvement with judging for the Whitney Awards.  Thank you!

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Amelia Mercer's used to feeling invisible whenever her younger sister is in the room.  It doesn't bother her.  Much.  She knows 16-year-old Charly can't help it—people are just naturally attracted to her beauty and charm.  Amelia's no different; she'll do anything for her sister, whether it's covering for Charly when she misses curfew or chauffering her to the scene of her latest prank.  

Despite her impulsiveness, Charly's never been in serious trouble before.  Until now.  Now, Charly's got a secret, a secret that will devastate the girls' already-grieving father, not to mention stain his reputation as the moral leader of their small Florida town.  Amelia refuses to let that happen.  And she absolutely will not allow Tremonton's vicious gossips to ruin her sister's life with their wagging tongues.  But, when the only plausible solution to the situation involves exile to a frozen little town in Canada, Amelia hesitates.  She wants to spend the rest of her senior year in Florida playing field hockey, hanging out with her friends and maybe even winning back the guy who dumped her for Charly.  As much as she hates herself for it, Amelia's just not sure she can stand by her sister on this one.  Doesn't she deserve to choose her own happiness over Charly's—just this once?  

Torn between loyalty to her sister and anger at Charly's increasing selfishness, Amelia's not sure how to feel, let alone what to do next.  Should she let Charly's choices determine her own fate?  Or force her reckless sister to face the consequences of her own actions, even if it means destroying their relationship forever?

With two of my own, I'm always drawn to stories about sisters.  There's just something so compelling about these strong, but complex relationships.  In her second novel, The Space Between Us, Jessica Martinez looks at just such a bond.  Amelia and Charly are typical sisters, so typical they're almost cliché (Amelia's the responsible, older sister; Charly the wild younger one).  Still, there's something about them that drew me in and made me care.  Although I identified most strongly with Amelia, I felt a lot of empathy for Charly as well.  As the girls worked through their differences, I found myself rooting for both of them, hoping that somehow they could salvage their sisterly bond.  At times, their story seems a little far-fetched, it's true, but I still enjoyed reading about the girls' ups and downs as they sought to understand each other.  Their struggles felt authentic.  Overall, The Space Between Us is a warm, satisfying read that's touching without being saccharine.  That's a winning combination in my book (look at that—a reading pun).

(Readalikes:  Reminded me of How to Save a Life by Sara Zarr)

Grade:  B

If this were a movie, it would be rated:  PG-13 for mild language (no F-bombs), depictions of illegal drug use and underage drinking, and sexual innuendo

To the FTC, with love:  Another library fine find

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Aggie Winchester's got better things to worry about than who'll be elected Prom Queen.  Goths don't care about that kind of stuff anyway.  And she is a Goth.  Kinda.  She's got the heavy makeup, the black clothes and the don't-mess-with-me glare—it's just that sometimes she feels like a goody-to-shoes playing dress-up.  Still, Prom's the least of her concerns.  Especially when she's dealing with her mother's cancer, her ex-boyfriend's stupid games and news of her best friend's pregnancy.  Who has time to waste on a lame-o school dance?  

Then, the unthinkable—or, at least the totally unbelievable—happens:  Sylvia Ness is nominated for Prom Queen.  Sylvia is Aggie's BFF.  Her fierce, Goth girl BFF.  The one who's going to be a mother in less than a year.  It's a controversy that sets the whole school, the whole community ablaze.  Weirdest of all, Sylvia actually wants to win.  And while she's courting votes, Sylvia's cozying up to the popular crowd, ignoring Aggie, who's supposed to be her best friend.  Aggie needs Sylvia now more than ever, but all she's got is goofy, bass-fishing Fitz Peterson.  

Aggie doesn't know how to solve any of her problems.  Heck, she can't even figure out what should be the easiest question of them all—Who is she, really?  A goody-goody?  A Goth?  Neither?  Both?  She doesn't know anymore.  But, as Aggie tries to figure it all out, she'll learn some important lessons about family, friendship and, believe it or not, fishing.  

It's hard not to relate to a heroine as confused and conflicted as Aggie Winchester.  She may not be the most likable girl out there, but she's definitely sympathetic.  She's also funny, tough and, in spite of herself, tender.  Still, her story drags a little, especially at first.  When it picks up, though, the novel becomes engrossing, thoughtful and real.  While I didn't absolutely love The Implosion of Aggie Winchester by Lara Zielin, I liked it well enough.  The writing's solid, the characters are interesting and the plot kept me entertained.  So, all in all, a decent read.  

(Readalikes:  Hm, I can't think of anything.  Can you?)

Grade:  B-

If this were a movie, it would be rated:  R for strong language, sexual content and depictions of underage drinking and illegal drug use

To the FTC, with love:  I received an ARC of The Implosion of Aggie Winchester from the generous folks at G.P. Putnam's Sons (a division of Penguin Young Readers Group).  Thank you!

     

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When Jill MacSweeney's mother announces her plans to adopt a baby, the 17-year-old can't figure out how she's supposed to feel.  Excited?  Angry?  Encouraging?  Sad?  All of those emotions and more ricochet around inside her, because although the adoption idea has come out of nowhere, Jill can see it for what it is—a lonely woman's attempt to replace her dead husband and college-bound daughter with someone who needs mothering.  Jill understands, but she can't quite get behind such an extreme decision.  Her mother won't be dissuaded, though, so, because she knows it's what her dad would want, Jill's trying her best to be supportive.  At least until she can convince her mom to vent her grief in some less drastic way.

Mandy Kalinowski knows the baby growing inside her will be safe with Robin MacSweeney.  Even though she's old (52) for an adoptive mother, Robin seems steady, stable—two adjectives that don't describe 18-year-old Mandy at the moment.  It's because of the woman's kind emails that Mandy decides to let Robin adopt her baby when its born.  Also, because she agrees to an unconventional adoption, with no contracts, no lawyers.  With Robin, Mandy can give her baby a better life and not have to let go of any of her closely-guarded secrets.  

Mandy's arrival in Denver leaves Jill even more convinced that taking in the pregnant 18-year-old is a bad, bad idea.  Mandy seems shifty, secretive—the exact kind of scam artist that could take her already vulnerable mother for everything she's got.  But the more Jill gets to know Mandy, the more she sees the scarred girl underneath the rough exterior.  And the more she observes her mom, the more she believes that a baby might be just what Robin needs.  At the same time, Mandy's got her own agenda, one that might dash every dream Robin has left.  With the baby's due date fast approaching, the three women must learn how to understand each other, trust each other and, ultimately, decide how to proceed when all of their hopes, dreams and goals are on the line.  

Well, I did a pretty shoddy job of describing the beauty that is Sara Zarr's fourth novel, How to Save a Life. Maybe, being an adoptive mother, I'm predisposed to like books that are about a subject that's so close to my heart.  Or, more probably, Zarr just knows how to write a story that's touching without being saccharine and sentimental.  Because, the truth is, I totally felt this one.  The characters are sympathetic, complex and genuine.   Same could be said for the story, which takes some surprising turns, but remains believable, true.  How to Save a Life is just one of those books that engaged me from its first word to its last.  It's a heart-wrenching, hopeful novel, one that reminds me why I love contemporary YA so much.  I wish I had the words to describe how much the story touched me, but I don't, so I'll leave you with these two words instead:  Read it.       

(Readalikes: Reminds me a teensy tiny bit of Chosen by Chandra Hoffman)

Grade:  A

If this were a movie, it would be rated:  PG-13 for language (1 F-bomb, plus milder invectives) and some sexual content 

To the FTC, with love:  Another library fine find

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Some things have changed for 17-year-old Kristina Snow. And some things haven't. Hunter, her beautiful baby boy, has made his entrance into the world. But meth hasn't yet made its exit. Kristina's trying, doing her best to control her use so that she can act alive long enough to make it through her shift at 7-11 and play mommy until the infant's bedtime. Maybe she's not doing so well, but she's making the attempt. Shouldn' t that be enough?

The pressure's getting to Kristina, so she decides to head out on her own. A little road trip to check out college campuses - at least that's what she tells her mom. University of the Pacific in Stockton, California, certainly qualifies as an insititue of higher learning, but Kristina's not there for a campus tour. She's there to hit up an old friend for more crank. Not only does she get the drugs she's looking for, but she also makes a new friend. The best kind, too. Trey's not just hot, he's sweet, fun, and has access to the finest glass Kristina's ever had. She's head over heels and completely ecstatic when Trey promises to look her up the minute he arrives in Reno for one of his frequent meth-buying trips.

With her tantalizing new guy and his even more tantalizing drug connection, Kristina's resolve melts. Baby or not, she's going to get what she needs. Even if it means getting kicked out of her mom's house. Even if it means leaving her baby behind. Or worse, taking him with her. Even if it means leaving behind her goals of working, going to college, living a normal life. Because there's nothing normal - nothing happy - about living with a monster as seductive and consuming as crank. Nothing at all.

Glass, the second book in Ellen Hopkins' best-selling trilogy about teenage drug addiction, continues the raw, heart-wrenching story of Kristina Snow, a good girl whose world changes dramatically when she starts using meth. Loosely based on her daughter's experience, Hopkins tells a vivid, unflinching story that manages to be both honest and sensitive. She describes the reality of drug addiction, never glamorizing it, always showing just how destructive meth can be, not just to the user, but to her parents, siblings and, especially, to her child. It's that last one that makes Glass so harrowing because Hunter isn't just some made-up kid, he's Hopkins' very real grandson. And because he represents the hundreds, probably thousands, of children who are being endangered every day because of their parents' drug abuse. Hopkins writes no easy stories, just the kind that are so raw and powerful you can't get them out of your head. Glass is no exception.

(Readalikes: Crank and Fallout by Ellen Hopkins)

Grade: B

If this were a movie, it would be rated: R for strong language, sexual content and depictions of illegal drug use and underrage drinking

To the FTC, with love: Another library
finefind

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Crank is more than a drug.

It's a way of life. You can

turn your back. But you can never really walk away (537).

I usually shy away from books described as "raw," "edgy," "disturbing" or the like, since such adjectives almost always signify a story with more language/sex/violence/gore than I want to ingest. Considering that Crank by Ellen Hopkins is just such a tale, you may wonder why in the world I picked it up. I asked myself the same thing as I raced through its very gritty pages. Well, first of all, Crank's the first book in a best-selling trilogy that's gotten a lot of buzz around the blogosphere. Second, it's a novel-in-verse and I'm really digging those lately. Third, its kind of difficult to put down. Really difficult, in fact. Because, somehow, this extremely unsettling book is also completely mesmerizing. And very, very affecting.

Loosely based on the experience of the author's teenage daughter, Crank begins the story of 16-year-old Kristina Snow, a good girl from Reno who gets her first taste of crystal meth while visiting her estranged father in California. An addict himself, he doesn't try to stop Kristina from using the drug - he joins her. Partying with her new "friends" makes Kristina feel loose, like a whole different person. Of course, as freeing as it is, this new hobby is only a temporary thing, a vacation thing, something she'll shrug off as soon as she's back in Nevada. She wouldn't even have a clue where to buy drugs back home.

As Kristina battles her all-consuming addiction, every other concern falls by the wayside. She's flunking her classes, draining her savings account, scaring her family, and doing irreversible damage to her body. And she doesn't care. Not while she's in the clutches of the monster. It's that freedom from worry, that sweet release, that keeps her coming back for more. And more. And more. Even when she discovers a new life forming inside her, she can't stop killing herself. Not for nine months. Not for nine days. Maybe not for nine minutes. Not when the monster is calling ...

Like I said, Crank fits all of the descriptions I listed above - it's raw, it's edgy, it's disturbing. It's all of those things and more. It tells it like it is in a way that's vivid, impactful and, surprisingly, sympathetic. Crank never glamorizes addiction, not in the least, but it shows how quickly and easily drugs can consume a person. Since Hopkins is a mother who's watched her daughter destroy herself with meth, the desperation felt by Kristina's family comes through loud and clear, even though the story's narrated only by Kristina. As much as I wanted a nice, clean ending for this troubled anti-heroine, I didn't get one. This isn't an easy book or even necessarily a hopeful one, it's a realistic, down-and-dirty look at the life of a drug addict. And it ain't pretty. What it is is an honest, unforgettable cautionary tale that will, hopefully, find its mark with the legions of teens (and adults) who are tempted every day by the lure of that most ferocious of monsters, crystal meth.

(Readalikes: I'm not sure I've read any other books about teenage drug addiction, so I'm not sure on this one. Any suggestions?)

Grade: B

If this were a movie, it would be rated: R for strong language, violence, sexual content and depictions of illegal drug use

To the FTC, with love: Another library
finefind