I know it's Christmas Eve and I should be talking about festive holiday stuff, but I'm going to take a little dystopian detour instead. Tomorrow we'll talk Dickens; today, we're talking Derting. As in Kimberly. You may recall that Kimberly Derting has authored two previous books, The Body Finder and its first sequel, Desires of the Dead. I loved the former, found the latter disappointing, and subsequently wondered whether I should bother reading her newest. For about five minutes, anyway. Then, I logged onto my library's website and reserved myself a copy of The Pledge, the first book in Derting's new YA dystopian series. Am I glad I did? Um, yeah. Totally.

The story takes place in a post-apocalyptic world, in a country called Ludania. Here, the people are divided by a strict caste system, which prohibits intimate contact between the different classes. Separated not only by custom but also by language, citizens of Ludania don't intermix for anything other than business. The tiniest errors in conduct - like looking straight at a member of a higher class while they're talking in their native tongue - are punishable by death. It's a vicious, turbulent way of life, one that's becoming more precarious with each passing day. Not only is Ludania's queen dying without a female heir to take her place, but the country's enemies are eager to invade. The vainglorious monarch will not suffer anyone's criticism, let alone whispers of treason, so her spies keep a close watch on her subjects, executing anyone who steps one toe out of line.

As a Vendor, 17-year-old Charlaina "Charlie" Hart knows her place in society. She's accepted her position at the bottom, serving her betters with dilligence, if not enthusiasm. It's best, she knows, to keep her head down, to avoid attention, to keep her secret talent hidden from prying eyes. No one besides her parents and younger sister can know the truth - that ordinary Charlie Hart can understand every language she hears. It's a dangerous skill, not to mention a confounding one. Charlie's never heard of anyone who can do what she can. It's not until she meets a mysterious stranger that Charlie begins to understand just how powerful her "gift" really is. Could her little party trick really save her country from a tyrannical leader? Or will it get her sent straight to the gallows?

While some of The Pledge's setup (like the almost Medieval setting, for instance) seemed familiar, I loved the book's original touches. The whole idea of different languages separating social classes intrigued me, as did Charlie's ability to read all the nuances of the spoken word. It's a fascinating premise, one that kept me turning pages just to see how it would all play out. While the storyline gets a little predictable and the characters (especially the males) don't get nearly enough development, I enjoyed this engrossing, dystopian tale. In fact, my reaction is pretty much the same one I had to The Body Finder: Please, God, tell me a sequel's coming ...

Okay, Derting's website says it's going to be a trilogy. Phew. Now I can breathe again!

(Readalikes: Reminded me a little of the Bayern series [The Goose Girl; Enna Burning; River Secrets; and Forest Born] by Shannon Hale)

Grade: B

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: Another library fine find

(Image from Barnes & Noble)

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

This year, I'm proud to be a part of the 2011 Advent Tour, an annual event where book bloggers share a little something about their holiday celebrations with the rest of us. Some people are talking about food, some are talking about music, some are talking about books ... it's a feast of random holiday goodness. Dig in!

Because I was born so close to Christmas, my wonderful father, mother and mother-in-law all started fun traditions to help celebrate my birthday:

Not only did I make my arrival at Christmastime, but I timed it just right: I was born on my dad's 37th birthday. Partly because of this, we developed a very special bond, one I treasure to this day. Growing up, my dad and I always had dinner out on our birthday, just the two of us. Even now, whenever we're in the same place on the 22nd, we head to a favorite restaurant for precious one-on-one daddy/daughter time. Since we live in different states, most years we have to make do with cards and phone calls, but I still relish the memories of all our dinners together (even the one at Skipper's, where I ended up vomiting my fish and chips all over the carpet). Happy birthday, Dad!

I first saw the beloved ballet when I was a kid. I'm not sure how old I was (8 maybe?), but I remember sitting in the theater feeling incredibly grown up in my dress clothes. The performance unfolding on stage mesmerized me. Everything - from the music to the costumes to the graceful dancing - kept me captivated. To commemorate the occasion, my mother bought me my first nutcracker. He's a little beat up now, but every time I look at that wooden soldier, I'm taken back to the moment I first experienced The Nutcracker. Almost every year since that time, my mother has given me a nutcracker for my birthday or Christmas. I've got soldiers and snowmen and Santas and bakers and elves and Josephs and Marys and all of them make me smile because of the memories that come rushing in whenever I look at them.

I'm continuing the tradition of attending The Nutcracker (almost) every year with my oldest daughter (my youngest isn't quite old enough yet). Seeing my little girl's eyes light up with delight the first time she beheld the great ballet made the pricey tickets worth every penny. Her joy taught me a simple truth: Christmas is about wonder. Which is why I decorate my house with nutcrackers every December - to add the magic of warm memories to our annual celebration of Christ's birth, the greatest wonder of all.

One year, my MIL took me to a holiday boutique in Scottsdale, where we looked through a display of houses and accessories from Department 56's Original Snow Village collection. I fell in love with these warm, happy Christmas scenes. My MIL bought me my first village piece that year as a birthday gift. Each year since, she's given me a new house or accessory. I've now got a whole city of buildings, which I place in various spots throughout my home to lend a quiet, glowing charm to our holiday decor. While I love my village for its quaint beauty, what really makes it special is what each piece represents - the time my MIL took out of her busy schedule to thoughtfully select a gift for my birthday.