I first read Looking for Alaska two or three years ago, and reread it recently for the MFA. I enjoyed it the second time around, too. Of course, I was “reading as a writer” so the experience was a little different. Still, it’s a good story told well.

Miles Halter is a studious and mostly friendless 16-year-old in Florida when the book opens, but he’s fine with his situation. He does want more out of life and is seeking the “Great Perhaps,” a journey he’s starting by heading off to an Alabama boarding school—where he’s won a scholarship. Once there, he befriends his roommate, nicknamed “the Colonel”, who introduces him to other friends, especially a girl named Alaska. An evening conversation with her is all it takes for Miles to fall in love (she’s, of course, hot). But she’s also wild and has a boyfriend. She’s the quintessential manic pixie dream girl.

The Colonel and Alaska introduce Miles to cigarettes and drinking, and Miles takes to his new social life like a champ. Suddenly he’s a major rule-breaker along with the rest of them. Then, in some ways not a lot else happens until the major event a little past halfway through the book. Miles hangs out with them and continues to be smitten by Alaska. Another girl, Lara, has a bit of a crush on him and he sort of starts seeing her (he doesn’t mind getting his first BJ from her at all). But then the Big Event happens. And like the back of the book says, nothing is ever the same.

Except it kind of is, and Miles has to come to terms with that. Life is full of major events and they’re not all pleasant. Feeling a little guilty about their role in the Big Event, he and the Colonel embark on a mission to find out what happened, ultimately realizing that they can’t really know.

It’s cool to see Miles develop over the second half, actually. Because he’s not really very nice to the people around him, especially Lara. He’s a believable, fairly self-absorbed boy. But by the end he has grown and I think he’s on his way to being a nicer guy.

Miles’s voice in the book is great—intelligent and a little sarcastic (not too much). And the novel is funny. Miles says:

You can say a lot of bad things about Alabama, but you can’t say that Alabamans as a people are unduly afraid of deep fryers.

Green has a way with words and pulls you into all the characters. Alaska is the most elusive of the major characters, but that’s by design.

So if you want to see a realistic portrayal of a teen boy going through his first real crush and having to deal with his first real tragedy, this is a good book for it. But if you can’t handle kids behaving badly, you might not like it. Because they do a lot of getting up to no good.

Eleanor & Park is one of my favorite books because it’s a wonderful emotional roller coaster-ride. Rowell is probably my favorite author because of what she can do with details. Who knew hand-holding could be as intense as she makes it?

This book was Rowell’s first foray into the YA space (she’d published other books for the adult market), but they weren’t originally sure if they were going to market it to teens or adults. I think they chose wisely, as she’s followed up with a couple other successful YA books. 

Eleanor & Park is about—surprise!—Eleanor and Park. Eleanor’s new to town and her living circumstances are terrible so she has to scrounge for clothes. Even taking a bath is a huge and risky ordeal because there’s no door to the area where the bathtub is. The list of problems really goes on and on, but suffice it to say that her biggest one is her asshole of a stepfather. 

Park, on the other hand, is a fairly normal middle-class kid with one exception—his mom’s Korean and that’s just not regular in their town. 

The book opens in Park’s point of view when he deals with some of his racist classmates and then watches with everyone else as Eleanor appears on the bus for the first time, wearing a crazy combination of clothes. She’s desperate to find a place to sit and eventually Park slides over so she can sit next to him. It’s a risky move for him because now he’ll be associated with the freak who’s already been made fun of by all the kids on the bus. But he soon changes his mind about her and it marks the beginning of a slow-build relationship that readers (including me) love. 

They don’t speak at first, but Park notices she’s reading over his shoulder on the bus (he reads comics), so he brings some for her to borrow. They still don’t speak much. Then he starts to share his music, even giving her a Walkman and batteries since she doesn’t have such things. Park is clueless about her troubles at home because she does her best to hide them, but they get closer and closer and eventually she starts spending most afternoons at his house. 

But of course, the stepdad finds out and all hell breaks loose. This leads to a heartbreaking decision for both of them, even though the book (by most people’s reading) ends on an up note. 

Really, I just adore this book. It so captures the intensity of first love. But it’s also a great story about a tough girl  who manages to get through some really horrible circumstances and eventually come out ahead. It’s kind of interesting, because in some ways I felt closer to Park while reading than to Eleanor, but this is fitting because of how closed off she is even with him. Rowell’s such an amazing author. I can’t recommend this book enough (for readers 15+, I guess).

Jellicoe Road is a layered contemporary with a carefully-woven-in mystery. It’s beautifully written. But I have to admit, it’s also just the kind of book that makes me feel a little dumb, because I regularly felt like I didn’t fully understand everything that was going on (especially in the beginning). This can happen with complex books—I am often a lazy reader and don’t always pick up on very subtle nuances, which abound in this book. Still, that doesn’t make it a bad book and I did enjoy it (things made sense for me by the end).

Taylor Markham is 17 and she’s now the leader of all the houses at her boarding school outside a small town in Australia. She’s kind of an unlikely leader and isn’t overly confident in her abilities, but she’s stubborn enough to want to try. She’s had to learn to be kind of tough, as her mom abandoned her at a 7-11 when she was 11.

There’s an alternating storyline that takes place 20 years earlier about five kids around the same age as Taylor. Three of them survived a terrible car wreck on Jellicoe Road and ended up at the school, with the others being a local and a cadet. It’s not clear how this relates to Taylor, though naturally you suspect it must in some way.

Being the leader matters for Taylor because one of the main focuses of the book is the “war“ fought between the Jellicoe School kids, the “Cadets” (city kids who camp out for 6 weeks at the beginning of the school year for some outdoor experience), and the “Townies” (self-explanatory). The war is really about territory, thought there being teen boys involved, there’s also a spatter of physical violence. Who has what territory limits the areas the different groups can go. The first quarter to third of the book is full of complicated negotiations for territory and hostages.

Taylor’s main adult confidante is Hannah (who’s more of a friend than anything—and the one who found her at the 7-11). Hannah lives at a house very close to the school and is in the process of writing a book that Taylor’s curious about but has never read—at least not until Hannah mysteriously disappears near the beginning. The disappearance is very distressing for Taylor, but Hannah’s book ties into the history of the kids from the car wreck.

Things do come together very nicely at the end, and although it felt inevitable (as all good endings do), it wasn’t really predictable. I don’t want to give anything away, so I’m not going to say any more about the story, but if you enjoy nuanced and lovely storytelling you could very well love this book.

For full disclosure, this author is going to be my faculty mentor for the first semester of my MFA, which is why I picked up her books. However, I haven’t met her yet so I figured I can still be trusted with a review.

This book packs a lot in just a few pages (my copy is just over 160 pages). It really captures how much it can suck to be a teen girl nowadays—how unfair the world is with its conflicting rules about behavior. Jessica is fourteen and she’s suddenly discovered boys—and that they’ve noticed her, too. She takes walks along a busy road and when a man looks at her, she swings her hips and lifts her eyes.

I know this is stupid, inviting trouble. But it feels so good to be wanted, I can’t help myself.

All she really wants is to go out with Jason, but he doesn’t seem to care about her even though she keeps trying to insert herself into his life. She has an encounter with him at a party and

…after being kissed by Jason Reilly, I feel as if nothing can penetrate me. It’s like he put an invisible shield over my body with his wandering hands.

But he doesn’t feel the connection she does, or the specialness of what they did. She wonders,

How can I feel such longing for what was between us, and he doesn’t? I wish more than anything I could go back in time, fix the ugly parts of me that made him turn away.

But he’s not happy with just tossing her to the side. No, he spreads a story about her (that isn’t really true, anyway) and overnight she’s got a “reputation.” She also has met (on one of her walks, no less) a 20-year-old named Ted who’s clearly interested in her even if he doesn’t hold a candle to Jason. He believes her when she says she’s 18 and she ends up messing around with him and regretting it. She keeps Ted a secret from everyone.

In addition to her boy troubles, Jessica’s dealing with family drama and growing apart from her best friend, Elisabeth. Her dad is marrying his new girlfriend and her mom hasn’t gotten over the fact that he cheated and left her. Elisabeth is pissed off at the way Jessica is putting herself out there for Jason, when Elisabeth knows he’s not worth it.

Note that this book is not anti-sex. It’s all about self-respect and knowing who you are and what you actually want. It’s just not subtle, and felt almost like a fable to me, partially because of the shortness and partly because it was so message-heavy. But it still didn’t feel preachy. It’s just that there was no question what the point of each scene was. I suppose this is really more of a novella than a novel, with its laser-focused plot.

Although I enjoyed it, I think Easy would be a perfect read for younger teens who are more on the reluctant reader side. Short and easy to understand with a positive message about self-worth. It’s appropriate for boys, too, because of the questions it raises. A perfect opportunity to ask boys why they do that thing—why after someone has done something nice for you, do you feel compelled to do the meanest thing possible to that person and try to ruin their life? Why not at least say thank you like your mom taught you and leave it at that? I seriously don’t understand.