Thursday 27 March 2014

Getting A Little Chilly With ‘The Coldest Girl In Coldtown’ by Holly Black



If there is one thing that YA seems to be doing amazingly well with right now, it is fantasy. Think of Twilight (try, I know, I don’t really want to do it either), but think of the ludicrous success that came from it. I’ve always thought fantasy was a pretty brilliant genre, and loved it whilst growing up, so I thought I would publicise a far better fantasy vampire novel (it’s okay, this will erase Twilight from your brain) and that is ‘The Coldest Girl In Coldtown’ by Holly Black.
                Oddly enough, when I first learnt about this book, I was having it read to me in a Foyles in Leicester Square, by Holly Black herself, with my over excited best friend next to me, gazing in awe. Originally, I barely knew Holly Black’s name, except that she wrote the Spiderwick Chronicles, which my little sister religiously believed, and Tithe, which my friend adored. It was from her reading of the chapter from ‘The Coldest Girl in Coldtown’ that my interest pricked a little, and from finally getting time to get around to reading it, I am sure as hell glad that I did. The book’s heroine, Tana, after waking up to discover that a house party she believed she embarrassed herself at has had far worse results for everyone else, sets on a journey with her ex and a stray vampire to a Coldtown, a place in which Vampires and those who are ‘Cold’ (pre-vampire) are annexed in order to protect citizens. That is the briefest summary I can give with little spoiler, but I cannot emphasise enough how this does not do the book justice.
                One of the things I liked most about this book is its integration of the vampire world to the real-world, and this, in corporation with Holly Black’s understanding of the late teenage ‘alternative’ grouping, creates a really brilliant, funny, and more than anything believable story. Something that is always seems forgotten in fantasy fiction, particularly in YA, you want your reader to want to, or at least be able to imagine themselves as, a part of your fantasy world. My personal opinion is that if you create some kind of universe that the reader can’t even remotely place themselves into, you need to go back and rethink a few details. I was really immersed in the setting of this book; I could see the Coldtown, and smell the fresh-spilled blood that seemed to lurk around every corner, and I kept wondering, staring down at my Docs, if, in the event of a serious vampire crisis, they’d have thick soles enough to kick a vampire in the teeth. This may just be my over-imaginativeness talking, but the detail set this book in such a good stead that even if the characters hadn’t been as good as they were, I still would have likely loved it.
                The characters, however, were the filling in a rather good version of almond sweet pastry, as they seemed to create the story, rather than the reverse. Call me crazy, but I’m never a big fan of plots dragging characters along with it like they got tied to a run away, Mary Poppins, merry-go-round horse. They functioned in really clever synchronisation, not allowing the story or its premise overwhelm them at any point, creating really intimately, well sculpted relationships between the characters as well. I have to admit the relationship of Winter and Midnight (two totally adorable children of the night who get just a little out of control) was almost flawless in the honest sense of devotion is portrayed, and I think, for me, it even rivalled the relationship of Tana and her sister Pearl. The story itself relies a lot on the concept of protection, family or friends, and the lure of selfishness, and so these relationships really hold well to the book.
                Overall, I really thought this booked risked be simply an antithesis to Twilight, but it was so, SO much more. It was gripping, funny and truly tragic at points but I have to be honest, I wouldn’t ever change that ending for the world. If you want to pick this book  up, I highly recommend following the Answerly ‘Let’s Read’, done by the fabulous Kristina Horner, which I link here. Enjoy all!


Quick personal note: You may notice that whilst I normally post on Fridays (because nothing says let’s kick of the weekend like a book review) this is a Thursday post as I am going to Kita-Con in Birmingham this weekend, but all will return to normal next week. See you all then J



Friday 21 March 2014

Wonder - R.J Palacio #choosekind



Wonder is a pretty thought provoking title if ever I heard one, particularly for a book that is classified as children’s. What first drew me to this novel is its cover, a cover that feels not only like its eye may be watching you, but that it almost sees through you. Which, in all honesty, is sort of what it felt like to read it.
                I did honestly grow to love Wonder. I was genuinely very worried I wouldn’t because sop stories meant for children are usually far too twee and end far too well for my liking (they still end no better than they started, but my usual contemporary misery ends with people a lot worse off than they began, Tess of D’Urbervilles style). But I must give R. J. Palacio all the credit that she deserves in that Wonder is a true gem of insight into the mind-set of a child in the position of outsider.
                One of the reasons I loved this book was its genuineness. It’s pretty rare to find a kid’s book that actually lets me feel like I’m reading a real child’s perspective, rather than either a stereotype or an angel or both. The multi-perspective aspect of the narrative helps this, as we get not only August, our original protagonist, but Summer and Jack, his friends, Olivia, his sister, and even some of his sister’s friends’ sides of the story, which creates just the kind of layering the deepens interest in the original story, as opposed to feeling like someone is shovelling mashed potato or polenta all over the book. This element was a real asset to the book in that, as a reader, a) you didn’t ever feel too consumed by August and his life but also b) from other people’s viewpoints, you got a far more three-dimensional viewpoint to August on the whole. He doesn’t feel like victim because he feels human and normal, and even irritating at times, which really drives home how “ordinary” (as he describes himself) and yet how truly extraordinary he is.
                I won’t lie, this wasn’t a completely flawless reading experience. August is pretty whiney at times, but to be fair he should be, and everything does wrap up rather too nicely at the end like a weird saccharin after-taste at the end of a pretty balanced meal. By the end (obvious spoiler alert) August is accepted by near all and liked by most, and realises that it is not impossible to be special just for what you are, rather than in spite of it, and most who were mean and cruel to him sit on the peripheral of the novel, slowly vanishing into the soon forgotten sunset. That being said, it’s a much more realistic and entertaining ride to get to this conclusion than you’d think, rather than the standardised, linear upward slant that usually stands in these kinds of books. In fact, by the conclusion of the novel, I felt, as I believe I was likely intended to, that the victory of the end felt deserved and complicated and difficult rather than perfect (at least I hope that was how I was meant to feel upon reaching the end, or I must have seriously missed something).
                This leads to an interesting note on a lot of other reviews I have read of this book which I read before writing this, and that is a comparison they seem to draw between this book and the infamous The Fault in Our Stars by John Green, noting this to be far more realistic, far less neat, and far less twee, sweet and ‘oh-so-romantic’ than TFIOS. I can kind of see where this idea is coming from, but I can honestly say I disagree pretty heartily with it. If TFIOS is all too nice, then Wonder is certainly on the same level, but, luckily for me, I haven’t really found that from reading either. Wonder holds an almost unique quality in its believable niceness that, despite my original misgivings, comes across in a truly charming and endearing manner.

Friday 14 March 2014

The Long Awaited opening: The Kissing Booth by Beth Reekles






I figured I should start this blog with a kind of explanation, a preface as to what I intend to review, what I like, what I dislike etc, but somehow that seems to be a stall. Another procrastination technique resulting in me not actually getting around to doing any reviews at all, simply a lot of introductions, apologies and goodbyes (and press repeat). I also didn’t want to be limited to one kind of book, like YA, fantasy, contemporary, adult, as, realistically, I like all of those genres and categories a great deal. So, in light of these two thoughts, I decided to begin this summer book review blog (and yes I know it isn’t summer but it is nearly the beginning of my summer) with a YA romance, not something I commonly read, but hey, I’m turning 20 soon and I want to have that butterflies, will-they-won’t-they feeling at least one more time before all films I watch dissolves into gun battles, forced adoption and bitter sweet love. And so, without further ado, I begin my opinionated explanation of Beth Reekles, ‘The Kissing Booth.’
                Now I should clarify, I do have a bit of a soft spot for romance, because, as the cynicism runs through my blood like electrolytes after a sports drink, I need something to remind me that there is something that isn’t hard hitting misery contemporary novels involving kidnap, crying and lonely looking cottages, but, when beginning this book, I was nervous. 
The blurb of one kiss “changing everything” and “turning her world upside down” seemed guessable plot points, even for a romance, and the leading lady, Elle, didn’t really sell herself to me as a character. Though she did improve, with a little bit of bite to her (well a bit of bite by teenage romantic heroine standards), and her internal monologue was definitely funny, and even quite endearing at points, her love interest, Noah, or occasionally Flynn, on the other hand was the unrealistic rugged dreamboat to a tee (seriously, he had a motorbike and everything) and her friends seemed to be pretty two-dimensional (and also weirdly attracted to her and then suddenly not attracted to her at points). Overall, it wasn’t exactly unique in its fundamentals, and it didn’t initially play up to them enough to be all that fun.
                But in all honesty, it’s not the similarities to every other teen romance that hold in this book, but the differences to the standard model. Whilst it holds moments of romance that, whilst the sceptic in my brain raged loudly about ‘how would that even work’, made my 15 year old self melt into my very seat with sheer wistful longing for love like this, these are usually pretty quickly rebutted with more sobering moments of a more logical nature from Elle. At first glance, I saw these as weird polarised writing, and remember wondering how anyone could be that indecisive, but then it did hit me: most hormonally driven teenagers are. This isn’t a slam at hormonal teenagers; you are kind of supposed to be mixed up, and confused, and indecisive at 17. It happens. And Reekles puts that across in a way that I was actually pleasantly surprised by. A novel in which Elle doted on Noah for 400 pages straight would have caused me to fall asleep by page 10, but it is her changeable nature that actually comes across pretty well, and works in the setting of a teenage life.
                The ending, as differences from the standard teen romance go, was, I think, the greatest strength of this novel. Without spoilers, it is one of the most honest ending of unrealistic and overpowering romance I’ve ever read, with a somewhat moment of notably more adult clarity in an otherwise entirely . And that is what made me really enjoy this book. It isn’t the greatest romance ever told, no, but it is an honest depiction of how teenagers see their own romantic entanglements which is nostalgic (even I’ll admit that’s half of why I liked it) and, more than anything, comforting, sexy, and exciting. Hell, if I can suspend my disbelief for dragons in Game Of Thrones, I’ll certainly let this romance’s style of dramatization slide.