Xiomara’s mother wanted to be a nun. She wanted to spend the rest of her life in a convent in the Dominican Republic. But she wound up married to an unfaithful husband and living in NYC. And for some inexplicable reason, she takes her life’s frustrations out on Xiomara. To her mother, everything about Xiomara is wrong–from her curvy body to her love of poetry to (especially) her discomfort with Catholicism. In fact, when Xiomara tells the priest she doesn’t want to be confirmed in the church, her mother refuses to accept the priest’s recommendation that she let Xiomara wait. Xiomara has toed the line her entire life, but in this, she stages a small rebellion. Instead of attending confirmation classes, she stays late after school and joins the poetry club. And after a spending most of her life trying to repress and hide the parts of herself her mother won’t like, Xiomara finally starts to find her voice.
There’s nothing more I can add to the gushing praise of this book except to say (truthfully) that I literally did not put it down. I meant to read a few pages after dinner and ended up carrying it around with me for the rest of the evening until I finished it. It is rare that a realistic fiction engages me to that extent. Xiomara’s story is riveting and nuanced. As a Catholic myself, I appreciated the fact that alongside Xiomara’s reservations about religion, her best friend and brother (and the priest) show positive depictions of faith. The story is raw and authentic, with well-developed characters that give every reader a chance to both see themselves reflected and to see someone else’s point of view sensitively portrayed. There’s a reason this one is an award-winner and an instant classic. If you haven’t read it yet, do.
Ed is likely sitting at home, heartbroken. Still, he probably won’t even notice when Min drops the box on his doorstep. Inside the box are all of the things that she saved from their relationship, all of which tell the story of why they broke up. But in case he doesn’t see the objects the same way she does, Min is writing Ed a very detailed letter explaining each item and its significance. As a future film director, Min is poetic and visual in her writing, conjuring scenes from their relationship, beginning with Al’s Bitter Sixteen Party that Ed crashed, continuing through the adventures of planning a birthday party for an elderly movie star, faltering at the challenges of balancing a relationship with friendships and individual interests, and finally ending with the pain, the heartache, and the realization that so many things just shouldn’t have happened in the first place.
This book surprised me. In fact, it blew me away. I do not generally enjoy reading books about relationships. But Why We Broke Up is perhaps the most genuine, realistic depiction of first love and the heartache of a broken relationship that I have ever read. Min is a beautifully human character: cynical yet naive, confident in her individuality yet insecure, “different” and “arty” yet ultimately the same as any other teenage girl in love. There is explicit sexual content in this book, but the author portrays both the fun and positive intimacy of the physical relationship as well as the awkwardness, vulnerability, embarrasment, and ultimate emotional devastation of a premature physical commitment.
I will reiterate that this book has mature content and is not for all readers. But older teens (particularly girls) who have dealt with love and a break up, who enjoy reading books about relationships, or who just want a sobering dose of reality after reading romance novels like Twilight may find Min’s story as captivating as I do.
High school has very defined social rules. Most of them are comical. People divide into cliques that all have absurd dress codes and behavior expectations. Everyone is supposed to be incredibly enthusiastic about the school’s crappy sports teams and the mascot that seems to change every other day. Melinda can see the absurdity of the high school social environment because she is an outsider. She has no clique. She has no friends. The people who used to be her friends will barely even look at her after what happened at the party over the summer. It had been Melinda who called 911, but not because of the drinking. She called because of what happened to her outside, that no one knows about except her and the boy she now thinks of as “It.” Melinda has not told anyone what happened; she doesn’t say much of anything anymore. Her grades are slipping, attempts at friendship failing, and even the desire to have friends seems to be slipping away. Only something about art class still seems compelling to her, though she isn’t much of an artist. As her parents and teachers get increasingly frustrated and concerned, Melinda struggles to navigate the rules of high school and to find a way to express what happened over the summer.
Melinda is a wonderful narrator. Her observations about the high school world are snarky and 100% accurate. You may not expect to laugh at a book with as heavy subject matter as this one, but Speak is about more than just rape. This incredibly well-written and nuanced novel will be accessible to anyone who is or has ever been in high school, and Melinda’s journey toward finding her voice is a powerful one. The subject matter is heavy (though not graphic) and may be upsetting to some readers, so use your judgment. But this is one of my favorites–possibly because Melinda and I have a very similar sense of humor and reaction to high school.
The first time Death met Liesel Meminger, the book thief, she was on a train with her mother and her little brother, traveling to a foster home near Munich where the children could escape the shadow of their father’s identity as a Kommunist. It was the little brother’s soul that Death had come to collect. As he cradled the little boy’s soul in his arms and watched the living grieve, Death did not know that he would meet the book thief two more times during her childhood, nor that he would find her journal in the wreckage of a bomb-torn city and would read it again and again, memorizing her story and always carrying it with him. He shares Liesel’s story with the readers in his own way–recounting the mischief she concocts with Rudy Steiner, the complicated but ultimately loving relationships in her foster family, the struggle of learning to read, poverty and hunger in the Third Reich, the terrifying business of hiding a Jew and the powerful friendship that results from it, the complex intertwining of patriotism, loyalty, and morality–all over-layed with Death’s observations of the tragedy of war and the enduring hope and beauty of life.
Ultimately, it is the words—of the author, of the characters, of the past—that bring the story to life so vibrantly and unforgettably. This is a book to be savored. It is at once heartbreaking and heartwarming. There are no real plot twists; Death tells you the ending at the beginning. The book is about the journey of the characters and their complex, beautiful relationships. Zusak does not neglect even the minor characters, making them all irresistibly complicated and human. I warn you, you will fall in love with characters in this book, and their stories will stay with you–as they did for the narrator, Death. Your heart will likely break at some of the tragedies they endure. But it is worth it for the journey you share with them, just as Death demonstrates that even the shortest lives captured in Liesel’s journal have profound and enduring beauty and meaning. The Book Thief has been my Favorite Book Of All Time since I first read it in 2006, and it will take an extraordinary book to ever supplant it in my affection. I cannot recommend it highly enough for teens and for adults.
Hazel does not particularly enjoy support group. It consists of sitting in a church with a bunch of other teenagers with cancer of various kinds at various stages, all in the process of dying–even those in remission. All humans are in the process of dying, after all. But it is at support group that she first meets Augustus Waters, an incredibly attractive guy with an unrelenting wit and an affinity for metaphorical cigarettes. Their friendship forms quickly around conversations about nuances of language, action movies, video games, and in particular a somewhat philosophical novel by a reclusive author. Peter Van Houten’s novel has had a profound influence on Hazel and her worldview, but there is one problem. It ends mid-sentence with the main character’s death. Not a very satisfying conclusion. As Hazel tries to balance her feelings for Augustus with her reluctance to begin a relationship that must inevitably soon end with her death, Augustus tries to track down Van Houten to find out how the novel ends.
The Fault in Our Stars is at once hilarious and heartbreaking. Through an exploration of love, family, hope, disappointment, and loss, John Green captures the infinite beauty, tragedy, and potential of finite human life. Hazel and Augustus are witty, intelligent, imperfect, and so utterly human that I could not help but fall in love with them. Although it is heart-wrenching, I would not call this book depressing. In fact, I would describe it as uplifting, a reminder that the transience of human life does not diminish its beauty or its meaningfulness. Thank you for this book, John Green. It is truly a masterpiece.
If you liked The Fault in Our Stars, you might like The Book Thief by Markus Zusak.
In 1848, a railroad worker named Phineas Gage was in a horrible explosion that drove a 3.5 foot long, thirteen pound, spear-like iron rod through his skull and brain–and he survived! He never even lost consciousness. For eleven years after his accident, Phineas Gage was a marvel of human physiology and taught doctors an enormous amount about the brain. John Fleischman’s book tells the story of Phineas Gage’s accident in all of its gory detail and then traces the scientific explanations of his survival and the personality changes that happened after his accident, as well as how his case influenced the history of neuroscience. This book will be most interesting to middle and high-schoolers, especially those interested in science, but also has a strong “strange-but-true” and grossness factor. Even upper elementary-schoolers who enjoy the Guinness Book of World Records and Ripley’s Believe It Or Not books will enjoy the first chapter of this book (the story of the accident) and all of the cool photos and illustrations. This book is fascinating! I highly recommend it!
If you liked Phineas Gage, you might like Written in Bone: Buried Lives of Jamestown and Colonial Maryland or Extreme Scientists.
The man Jack had always completed his assignments thoroughly and efficiently. His knife dispatched the man, the woman, and the little girl before even a scream could pass their lips. So it comes as a great surprise to him when he discovers that the toddler has somehow escaped into the night. The man Jack follows the little boy’s scent up the hill and into the graveyard, but there he loses the trail as a mysterious, black-velvet-clad man named Silas escorts him from the graveyard, persuading him that he never saw the child there in the first place. The inhabitants of the graveyard, the ghosts of all of those laid to rest within its gates over the centuries, offer the child their protection. The ghosts Master and Mistress Owens adopt the child, whom they name Nobody (Bod), and Silas, who is neither living nor dead and can therefore leave the graveyard to procure food for the child, agrees to be his guardian. Bod is given the freedom of the graveyard, seeing as the dead see, moving through walls, fading into shadow, and exploring worlds on the border between life and death. He grows up safe inside the graveyard, but outside its gates, the man Jack has not abandoned his search for child.
The Graveyard Book won the 2009 Newbery Medal, which is somewhat surprising given the book’s subject matter–the dark, fantastical world stands out from typical Newbery winners–but fully deserved. Gaiman builds a vivid world in the graveyard and explores themes of life, death, family and friendship, love and loyalty, identity, and morality. He weaves these themes into his brilliantly imagined storyline, which keeps readers engaged in characters and plot from beginning to end. Fair warning: you will reach a point in the story where you will become unable to put this book down. Plan your time accordingly.
I highly recommed this book for upper elementary, teen, and adult readers who can handle dark fantasy and murder mysteries. I also cannot recommend highly enough Neil Gaiman’s audio book performance of this book! It is one of my top two favorite audiobooks of all time–an absolutely stunning performance. It is great to listen to, whether you are experiencing the book for the first time or reading it again. You should definitely check the audio book out!
Rapunzel’s mother, Gothel, raised her in a beautiful home surrounded by luscious gardens–the product of Gothel’s growth magic–and a high stone wall which separated them from the outside world. When Rapunzel grows old enough to wonder what lies beyond the wall, she disobeys her mother’s orders and climbs to the top. There she sees the barren wasteland outside her mother’s protected garden, land stripped of all fertility by the witch’s powers and peopled by laboring peasants, Gothel’s slaves. Rapunzel also learns that one of the peasants is her true mother, from whom Gothel stole her in infancy. When Rapunzel confronts the witch with her new knowledge, Gothel takes her to a far off forest and imprisons her in the hollow of a tall, tall tree. Gothel expects that her “daughter” will eventually come to her senses and choose to support the system of slavery that keeps them living in luxury. Instead, Rapunzel grows increasingly bitter in her isolation. Gothel’s growth magic that made the tree tall also makes Rapunzel’s hair grow quickly and soon she has enough to create a lasso to help her in her escape. Teaming up with a young thief named Jack, Rapunzel adventures across the desert countryside, trying to devise a plan to destroy Gothel’s empire and using her hair to bring vigilante justice to the lawless towns she passes through.
This adventurous Wild West retelling of Rapunzel is tons of fun. The graphic novel format is perfect for the story’s fantastic action sequences. Plus, it is very, very funny! I highly recommend this book to middle grade and teen readers.
The sequel Calamity Jack came out recently and I am very excited to read it!
Peter was the leader of the orphan boys at St. Norbert’s for several reasons. First, he was the oldest—or at least he said he was. He was also very smart and very brave. And he could spit the farthest, which is an important qualification for leadership. So when Peter, James, Prentiss, Thomas, and Tubby Ted end up as cabin boys on the rickety old ship the “Never Land” on their way to become snake food at the royal palace of King Zarboff the Third, Peter takes charge. He leaves the rat-infested cabin every night to find the other boys some food. That’s how he meets Molly, a girl who can talk to porpoises, and discovers the mysterious trunk that she is guarding—a trunk with the power to make rats fly and men feel light as a feather. Molly is the daughter of a Starcatcher, in charge of protecting the trunk’s magic from the evil “Others” in her father’s absence. But when Molly learns that her enemies are onboard the “Never Land,” she needs Peter’s help to keep the trunk and its contents safe. And then, there are the pirates: Black Stache and Smee and the terrible crew of the “Sea Devil” who also want to get their hands on the greatest treasure ever to be taken on the sea.
This prequel to Peter Pan is a wonderful adventure story full of action, magic, and humor (it is very clear that Dave Barry is one of the writers). It is the first in a series, followed by Peter and the Shadow Thieves, Peter and the Secret of Rundoon and Peter and the Sword of Mercy. They are intended for an upper elementary/ middle grade audience, but this is one grown up who enjoys them very much! There are also several “spin-off” books about the Lost Boys and the adventures of the Mollusk Indians: Escape from the Carnivale, Cave of the Dark Wind, Blood Tide, and The Bridge to Neverland.
A word on the series: The first book can stand alone. There are a few things that aren’t explained fully, but you can make the jump from the ending of Starcatchers to the beginning of Peter Pan pretty easily. Shadow Thieves and Secret of Rundoon are a lot scarier than Starcatchers (I read Starcatchers aloud with a 5-year-old and a 7-year-old with a few minor alterations to pirate vocabulary and behavior, and they loved it, but I did not continue on in the series because it would have been too scary). It’s fine for 4-6th graders, who are the book’s intended audience, but just a heads up if you start it as a read aloud with younger kids—preview the Shadow Thieves before you jump in! The fourth book, Sword of Mercy, breaks the prequel logic, unfortunately, because it occurs years after the first three end, and involves the Darling children, but does not fit into the original Peter Pan timeline. So that disappointed me. I might recommend only reading books 1-3. But if you really enjoy the characters and won’t be bothered by the series becoming more “fan fiction” than true “prequel,” Sword of Mercy is a good book, too.