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).
I’m a huge fan of Bowen’s adult romances, especially the True North series set in Vermont. So of course I had to check out her first YA book.
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).
Something Like Normal is a slim book that explores a few weeks in the life of Travis Stephenson, a 19-year-old Marine home on leave after a tour in Afghanistan. His best friend there was recently killed and Travis is having apparent PTSD symptoms even though it’s undiagnosed because he’s afraid to seek help. He has nightmares and keeps thinking he’s seeing his dead friend. This definitely makes for a good story. And I did enjoy it, even though there were some things that bugged me about it.
There’s good reason this is a well-known and well-respected book. Woodson has done a great job with a tough subject, written 16 years ago—long before the publishing world started earnestly trying to make up for its lack of diversity.
This is really a remarkable and very powerful book. First off, it’s a very engaging and exciting story with some action. You’ve got the Civil War setting and you’ve got zombies. I’m pretty sure that Civil War era isn’t a common setting in YA historical fiction, so that’s a nice thing right there. But Ireland has really twisted that setting with her introduction of zombies, or shamblers as they call them in the book (which is, by the way, an awesome term).
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.
King loves to work with weird ideas, and this book is no exception. At the beginning of the book, all we know about Sarah is that something happened at school that has her unwilling to go anymore. She was a talented artist but whatever happened seemed to suck her ability to draw right out of her fingers. She wanders Philadelphia by bus and ponders how literally nothing is original. Nothing she does, nothing anybody else does, nothing. She’s depressed and having an existential crisis.
I had high expectations for The Surface Breaks because I think O’Neill is an amazing and very skilled writer. She did not let me down. This book is different from her others, as it’s a reimagining of the fairy tale The Little Mermaid.
There’s a lot of hype surrounding this book (for instance, I saw Entertainment Weekly called Adeyemi the next J. K. Rowling). Hype can be both good and bad. It had a lot to live up to, but I was still excited to read it, even though it’s way longer than my normal reads.
I was excited to read this book, as it sounded like a nice psychological thriller, a genre I enjoy but don’t read much of. Nico Morris’s older sister, Sarah, disappeared four years earlier when she was fifteen and Nico was eleven. And now she’s back.
I’ll start off by saying that this is an unusual book. This is mostly because of the point of view, which I’ll go into more below.
Niven’s other YA book, All the Bright Places, is probably going to remain one of my favorite YA novels of all time. So Holding Up the Universe had a lot to live up to, for me.
There has been a lot of books about mental illness coming out lately, which I think is great as long as the author handles it carefully. The Weight of Zero is definitely a standout in the crowd of these books for its authenticity and solid story.