In the not too distant future - 2065 to be exact - Earth's natural resources have dwindled due to overpopulation and wasteful usage. Inside the gated city where Ransom Lawe lives, laws govern everything from how much water comes out of the faucet at one time to how many children a woman can birth. With frequent blackouts, little food, no fuel for travel, and few reasons to get up in the morning, it's a hard, bleak existence. Still, it beats living out in the wild. At least in the city people have food. Sometimes.

As a recycler, Ransom makes barely enough money to support his wife and two young sons. Working long hours, plus wasting precious minutes trying to navigate the city's unreliable tram system, means he barely sees his family at all. Perhaps that's how he misses the fact that his wife is pregnant - with an illegal third child. Some people can afford to buy an extra child credit, but Ransom can't. Since Teya's insistent on keeping the baby, Ransom investigates every option available to them. To no avail.

With each passing week, Teya's pregnancy becomes harder to conceal. If anyone discovers her secret - a nosy neighbor, a cold-hearted snatcher, or Teya's sister, the Population Director - she will be taken, the child forcefully expelled from her body. The more desperate Ransom's situation grows, the more insane it seems. Should their tainted government really have this much control over people's lives? Disillusioned as he is, Ransom still can't imagine leaving the city. Where would he go? How would he even make it out in the wild with young children and a pregnant wife? He'd rather sacrifice his baby. Wouldn't he?

Grappling with doubt, fear and outright desperation, Ransom must choose what to believe in, whom to trust. In a world where one wrong move could cost him everything, Ransom needs to be very, very careful where he steps ...

While the plotting and character development in The Third by Abel Keogh leave something to be desired, it's not a bad debut novel. Not at all, really. The idea of population control makes Keogh's dystopian world unique (although Margaret Peterson Haddix also has a series about illegal third children), since most end-of-the-world societies have the opposite problem. It's also an issue rife with tension, making the story both intense and relevant. I actually loved the whole idea of it. Keogh makes some rookie mistakes, though - characters that don't exactly leap off the page, info-dumpy dialogue, and plot devices that hinge entirely on coincidence - all of which distract from the story. Still, the novel commanded my attention, propelling me through its pages in a matter of hours. Did I love every word? No, but I think Keogh's got some serious potential and, just for the record, if he happened to write a sequel to The Third, I would totally read it. Hint, hint.

(Readalikes: Reminded me of lots of other dystopians, but especially the Shadow Children series by Margaret Peterson Haddix, Birthmarked by Caragh M. O'Brien and Delirium by Lauren Oliver.)

Grade: C

If this were a movie, it would be rated: PG for violence and intense situations

To the FTC, with love: I received a finished copy of The Third from the generous folks at Bonneville Books and Tristi Pinkston Book Tours, for which this review was written. Thank you!

Congratulations go out to Trish, who blogs about books, writing, weight loss, CHOCOLATE, and lots of other things over at Pecks and Bushels. She won my giveaway for a boxed set of Maggie Stiefvater's Wolves of Mercy Falls trilogy. Yay! Go on over to Trish's fun blog, won't you, and give her a little love? Trish, if you'll send your snail mail address to me - blogginboutbooks AT gmail DOT COM - I'll get your books out to you ASAP.

Thanks to everyone for entering the contest. I appreciate your enthusiasm and your willingness to support this blog. I know you were bribed into chatting it up on Twitter, Facebook, etc., but still, thank you!

If you didn't win this time, don't despair. More giveaways will be forthcoming. Promise!

At thirteen years old Lynda's life comes to a disastrous halt when her mother and two younger sisters are killed in a plane crash. Her father, overcome by despair, simply continues to exist in a state devoid of hope. After burying a wife and two young children at the age of 44, the overwhelming responsibility of raising a daughter alone completely immobilizes him.

Teetering on that tender brink between childhood and adolescence, Lynda faces the responsibility of a father in a complete state of shock, a house to take care of and hundreds of decisions about how to proceed with their shattered lives.

In Repairing Rainbows, she candidly describes the agonizing memories, deafening silence and endless hardships that ar the fallout of incredible loss. As we follow her through marriage, motherhood and her own spiritual journey. Lynda reveals her complex feelings of hope, anger, pity and determination. Most importantly, she learns the crucial difference between truly living and the existence that is so often mistaken for being alive.

A true story, written by a woman whose normal and abundant life hides a terrible past, Repairing Rainbows is loaded with lessons that will undoubtedly touch the hearts of its readers.

- Back cover blurb

Normally I like memoirs, especially those featuring people who have overcome great obstacles to become happy, successful human beings. So, Repairing Rainbows by Lynda Fishman should have been right up my alley. Unfortunately, after 50 pages, I just didn't feel a compelling need to read any further. To me, the book lacked focus, meandering along with too much detail and not enough structure.

Just because Repairing Rainbows didn't appeal to me doesn't mean it won't be the perfect read for you. It gets rave reviews on Amazon and Goodreads. Book bloggers also seem to be enjoying it (you can check out their reviews on the author's website). More opinions about the book will be forthcoming as Fishman's virtual tour with Tribute Books continues. Considering all these glowing reviews, it's possible my impatience with the book is just a me thing. That happens. A lot.

Oh well.