(Image from Barnes & Noble)

So, I've come to a startling realization: I've never read a Michael Crichton book. Not one that he completed before his death in November of 2008, anyway (I watched every episode of ER, though. Does that count?) Mostly, I've discovered, I'm familiar with his novels because of the movies that were created from them—Sphere, Jurassic Park, The Lost World, etc. But the actual books? Nope. The only two I've read—Pirate Latitudes and now MICRO—were either unfinished (the former) or completed by someone else (the latter). Does this make a difference? I believe so, because otherwise, I just can't understand people's enthusiasm for Michael Crichton. Blasphemy, I know.

In a locked Honolulu office building, three men are found dead with no sign of struggle except for the ultrafine, razor-sharp cuts covering their bodies. the only clue left behind is a tiny bladed robot, nearly invisible to the human eye.

In the lush forests of Oahu, groundbreaking technology has ushered in a revolutionary era of biological prospecting. Trillions of microorganisms, tens of thousands of bacteria species, are being discovered; they are feeding a search for priceless drugs and applications on a scale beyond anything previously imagined.

In Cambridge, Massachusetts, seven graduate students at the forefront of their fields are recruited by a pioneering microbiology start-up. Nanigen MicroTechnologies dispatches the group to a mysterious lab in Hawaii, where they are promised access to tools that will open a whole new scientific frontier.

But once in the Oahu rain forest, the scientists are thrust into a hostile wilderness that reveals profound and surprising dangers at every turn. Armed only with their knowledge of the natural world, they find themselves prety to a technology of radical and unbridles poower. To survive, they must harness the inherent forces of nature itself.

An instant classic, MICRO pits nature against technology in vintage Crichton fashion. Completed by visionary science writer Richard Preston, this boundary-pushing thriller melds scientific fact with pulse-pounding fiction to create yet another masterpiece of sophisticated, cutting-edge entertainment.

Sounds intriguing, no? I thought so, too. The problem, once again, is not in the novel's premise, but in its execution. Now, my husband (who has fond memories of reading Jurassic Park to his youngest brother as a bedtime story) insists that the beauty of a Crichton novel lies in the science. I happen to believe that science is all well and good, but that if you're trying to create exciting fiction then you're going to need a little more than just cold, hard facts and concepts. For instance, you should have some colorful characters, people who speak and act in interesting ways. You don't want cliches or stereotypes, and you certainly don't want emotionless paper dolls. Once you've created some lively folks, you should let them engage in informative, but entertaining conversations. Some kind of action is required in a story, of course, and yet, you cannot make it the only thing. There has to be some human emotion (not melodrama) involved so that readers feel connected to the story and its cast. Most importantly of all, though, is dynamic storytelling. Settings, characters, and plot events need to be described in a way that makes them live and breathe in the reader's imagination. Without all this, you just have science and, I don't know about you, but I don't think that makes for much of a story. A documentary, okay, but not a fictionalized thriller.

In case you can't tell, MICRO just didn't do it for me at all. Even though (as you can probably tell) science isn't really my thing, I think I could have enjoyed this book if it had had all the things I mentioned above. It didn't. For me, then, it became dull. I felt so little connection to the characters that I really didn't care whether they lived or died. Well, I guess I cared enough to finish the book, but that's it. Like Pirate Latitudes, it left me thinking, "What's all the hype about here? I just don't get it." Maybe this is just a classic case of "different strokes for different folks," but I really do believe that I can enjoy a novel on any subject under the sun—provided the story is told well. For me, MICRO didn't fit that bill at all.

My task now, I think, is to go back and read a real Crichton book. I think I'll start with Sphere, since that's the movie I like best. Unless, of course, there's a written version of ER ...

(Readalikes: Reminds me a little of Jurassic Park—the movie version, since I haven't actually read the book)

Grade: C-

If this were a movie, it would be rated: R for language, violence/gore, and sexual innuendo

To the FTC, with love: I received a finished copy of MICRO from the generous folks at Harper Collins. Thank you!

Speaking of LDS writers, I'm excited to be part of the Whitney Academy again this year. The Whitneys recognize excellence in fiction writing by authors who are also members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. The finalists in all 7 categories were announced today. Winners are decided by the Academy, a group made up of LDS writers, booksellers, bloggers, etc. Members of the Academy are asked to read all 35 of the books on the list or, at least, all the titles within one category. I'm going to try to do the former so that I can vote for best novel overall, but we'll see how it goes. Like I may have mentioned I've been a little preoccupied lately.

At any rate, here's the list of finalists. I was disappointed that more of the books I loved and nominated (Circle of Secrets by Kimberley Griffiths Little and Back When You Were Easier to Love by Emily Wing Smith, for example) didn't make it to the final round, but I'm excited to explore some new novels and authors. Okay, here's the list for real. BTW: I crossed out the titles I've already read and the asterisks in the list denote books that are eligible for the Best Novel by a New Author award.

General:

Before I Say Goodbye by Rachel Ann Nunes
Gifted by Karey White*
Evolution of Thomas Hall by Kieth Merrill
The Walk: Miles to Go by Richard Paul Evans
The Wedding Letters by Jason F. Wright

Historical:

Romance:

Borrowed Light by Carla Kelly
Captive Heart by Michele Paige Holmes
Count Down to Love by Julie N. Ford
The List by Melanie Jacobson*
Not My Type by Melanie Jacobson

Mystery/Suspense:

Acceptable Loss by Anne Perry
Bloodborne by Gregg Luke
If I Should Die by Jennie Hansen
Rearview Mirror by Stephanie Black
Smokescreen by Traci Hunter Abramson

Speculative:

The Alloy of Law: A Mistborn Novel by Brandon Sanderson
I Don't Want to Kill You by Dan Wells
The Lost Gate by Orson Scott Card
A Night of Blacker Darkness by Dan Wells
No Angel by Theresa Sneed*

Youth Fiction Speculative:

My Unfair Godmother by Janette Rallison
Shifting by Bethany Wiggins
Slayers by C.J. Hill
Tuesdays at the Castle by Jessica Day George
Variant by Robison Wells

Youth Fiction General:

Girls Don't Fly by Kristen Chandler
Miles from Ordinary by Carol Lynch Williams
Pride & Popularity by Jenni James
Sean Griswold's Head by Lindsey Leavitt
With a Name like Love by Tess Hilmo*

As you can see, I've got my work cut out for me! I'll be keeping track of my progress on my right sidebar—kind of a personal challenge—so you can follow along with me.

How about you? What do you think of the finalists? Which books did you love? Which are you excited to read? And, most importantly, will I be seeing you at LDS Storymakers?

(Image from Barnes & Noble)

Discovering your unmarried teenage daughter is pregnant can be a traumatic experience no matter what the circumstances. But, during more conservative decades—the 1940s, '50s, '60s and even into the '70s—it was considered so shameful that parents routinely forced their expectant daughters to hide in the house for months in order to conceal their condition from family and friends. When the girls began to show, they were often sent to homes for unwed mothers, where they stayed until they gave birth. Relatives, teachers and friends were told the absent girls were working at faraway vacation resorts or taking care of a sick auntie. Once their babies had been adopted, the new mothers were sent home with instructions to forget the children they'd borne and move on with their lives. The women did move on—graduating high school and college; establishing successful careers; dating; marrying; even having more children—but not one of them ever really forgot the babies they relinquished.

In Ann Fessler's fascinating book, The Girls Who Went Away: The Hidden History of Women Who Surrendered Children for Adoption in the Decades Before Roe v. Wade, the author presents the stories of dozens of women who, like her own birth mother, went through this experience. Told in their own words, the women's stories are both surprising and heartbreaking, providing an astonishing picture of what life was like for unwed mothers in the era before single parenting became acceptable in society.

Although the mothers' experiences varied in many ways, there were plenty of similarities: most of the women said they received no sex education as teenagers, not from classes at school, and certainly not from their parents; most knew so little about pregnancy that they were surprised when doctors shaved them "down there," since everybody knew babies came out of their mothers' stomachs; most were bullied or guilted into placing their children for adoption; and many suffered from low self-esteem for the rest of their lives as a result of being made to feel like whores and sinners for getting pregnant before they were married. Nearly all of the women interviewed said that whether or not they would have chosen adoption had they been allowed to make the decision on their own, they would have at least liked to have been given a choice. A common feeling among them was that, because of their young age (which made them both ignorant and vulnerable), parental pressure, societal pressure, and the desire for a clean reputation, they really had little choice but to surrender their babies for adoption by "deserving" married couples.

However you feel about adoption and abortion—and, believe me, I have strong opinions on both—it's impossible not to feel empathy for these young pregnant women who faced such judgment, betrayal and even cruelty from the people who were supposed to love and care for them most. Fessler discusses the way these attitudes have changed—today's parents, for example, are encouraged to discuss sex with their children early and openly and advise their sexually-active children to at least use contraceptives—and ways in which they have not.

I don't agree with all of Fessler's conclusions, but I did find The Girls Who Went Away to be a fascinating study of America's sexual history and the way society's attitude toward unwed motherhood affected so many young girls as well as the children they bore. Fessler's own experience, which she uses to frame the others', makes the whole subject even more intimate and affecting. Overall, it's an interesting book, albeit one I ultimately found to be sad and depressing.

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

Grade: B

If this were a movie, it would be rated: R for language and sexual content (although not explicit)

To the FTC, with love: Another library fine find