I'm going to spend my Friday ignoring my miles long to-do list in favor of something much more fun: the Book Blogger Hop. Care to join me? Just click on over to Crazy For Books to get all the details.

Anyone who reads this blog with any regularity knows I love me some YA dystopian. I can't get enough of it. Except, the thing is, I'm starting to get impatient with the same ole, same ole. At this point, with doomsday fiction flooding the market, I'm craving originality. Or at least some good storytelling. And maybe some complex characters, surprising plot twists, snappy dialogue? Is that too much to ask? Maybe.

Case in point: Eve by Anna Carey. The novel, the first in a new dystopian trilogy, begins in a cloistered society of young women. At the School, the girls are kept behind guarded walls, safe from the soldiers and scavengers who live in the wasted world beyond. Through education, they're being groomed to become society's next doctors, scientists, and saviors. At least that's what they've been told. When 17-year-old Eve discovers what really happens to the School's graduates, she's horrified. It's only a matter of hours before she, herself, will be advanced into the City.

Refusing to accept the awful fate that's befallen her classmates, Eve sets out on a perilous journey. Traveling across the ruins of what was once Northern California, she's determined to reach the ocean, where a safe haven is said to exist. But the king of New America's taken a strange interest in young Eve and he's not about to let her roam free. With royal guards chasing after her, she's reluctant to trust anyone who might be punished for helping her, but when Eve meets Caleb, she takes the risk. With both of their lives on the line, they make for what was once San Francisco. Getting there will not be easy, it may not even be possible. Especially when the all-powerful king has chosen Eve for his own.

Plot sound familiar? I've read it 100 times (give or take). Carey does break the dystopian pattern a little - Eve discovers her society's big secret in the first two chapters, then spends the rest of the book running. Usually it takes the heroine a little longer to "get it." The problem with this divergence is that it actually rushes the plot, not giving the reader enough time to get acclimated to the story's dystopian world or to get to know Eve and her friends well enough to care about them. The reader's thrust right into the action, which isn't a bad thing except when it comes at the expense of character development. In Eve, it certainly does. This, coupled with flat characters, melodramatic dialogue, predictable plot twists, and an underdeveloped setting, made the novel another generic dystopian copycat.

I wanted to like Eve, I really did, but I just didn't. Maybe the story will improve over the next two books. Maybe it won't. It doesn't matter because I won't be sticking with this one long enough to find out.

(Readalikes: Eve's got similar themes as The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood; Prized by Caragh M. O'Brien; Delirium by Lauren Oliver; etc.)

Grade: C-

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

To the FTC, with love: I received an ARC of Eve from the generous folks at HarperTeen. Thank you!

When a therapist suggests that 16-year-old Amy Richards start a journal to help her deal with things, she scoffs at the idea. She's not really the "Dear Diary" type. When she starts writing her entries as letters to her best friend, though, she can't stop. Amy will never send the notes - heaven doesn't have a mailbox - but writing them helps her to remember Julia. They help her cope, help her grieve, help her move on. Sort of. The thing is, Amy knows she's responsible for Julia's death and that's something she won't get over. Ever.

Love You Hate You Miss You by Elizabeth Scott is one of those hard-hitting issue novels that's as evocative as it is disturbing. Amy tells it like it is in a raw, authentic voice that will speak loud and clear to teenagers. The book packs a powerful message, without sounding too preachy. I didn't love Love You Hate You Miss You, but I think it's an important story and one that will resonate with anyone who's had to live with the soul-crushing guilt and regret that come from letting someone down. And, really, isn't that all of us?

(Readalikes: Reminded me a little of Thirteen Reasons Why by Jay Asher)

If this were a movie, it would be rated: R for language (1 F-bomb, plus other, milder invectives), sexual innuendo, and depictions of underrage drinking and illegal drug use

To the FTC, with love: I received a finished copy of Love You Hate You Miss You from the generous folks at HarperTeen. Thank you!

I've read some disheartening novels in my time, but I'm not sure I've ever encountered one as depressing as Winter's Bone by Daniel Woodrell. From its icy blue cover to its frigid setting to its crusty characters, the book's as cold and bleak as a Missouri winter. Which is, I guess, the point. But still - talk about depressing.

The story revolves around Ree Dolly, a 16-year-old girl living in the hills of the Missouri Ozarks in a community full of her ne'er-d0-well relatives ("...dead to wonder by age twelve, dulled to life, empty of kindness, boiling with mean. So many Dolly kids were that way, ruined before they had chin hair, groomed to live outside square law and abide by the remorseless blood-soaked commandments that governed lives led outside square law" [8]). She plans to escape her poverty-stricken life the second she's old enough to join the Army, but for now, she's stuck taking care of her two young brothers and her mother, whose mind took a hike years ago. It's a hard, squalid existence, one Ree stoically endures while dreaming of something better.

All Ree's hopes are dashed one glacial winter morning when Johnny Law comes nosing around, asking about her father. A notorious crank chef, Jessup Dolly has skipped town, presumably to avoid his upcoming court date. He's posted the Dolly's home and timber acres as his bail bond; if Jessup doesn't appear in front of the judge, Ree and her family will lose the few assets they have. Knowing she can't keep her family together without a roof over their heads, Ree vows to drag her father home, no matter what it takes. It's a dangerous task, involving confrontations with the vilest Dollys the Ozarks have ever produced. With little choice, the determined teen sets out across the frozen hills on a life-or-death quest to save the only things in her world that are worth redeeming - her still-innocent brothers. And, maybe, herself.

As hardened as Ree is, she's an admirable character, one who's easy to root for if difficult to like. She is, in fact, the only (semi-) bright spot in the brutal, arctic landscape of Winter's Bone. Woodrell's raw, unsympathetic look at families steeped in the Ozark drug culture is both vivid and compelling, just not particularly uplifting. The novel's a quick read, to be sure, but not an easy one at all. If it had been one page longer, or if I hadn't been too sick to get out of bed when I read it, I wouldn't have finished Winter's Bone. It's well-written, just not my cup of tea. Like at all.

(Readalikes: Although the settings are vastly different, Winter's Bone reminds me of The Road by Cormac McCarthy)

Grade: C

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

To the FTC, with love: I bought Winter's Bone from Borders (*sniff*) with a portion of the millions I make from my lucrative career as a book blogger. Ha ha.