Go Katniss! The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins

"Any book that starts out with 24 children and ends up with 22 of them dead--that's tough to beat."

Lois Lowry

I was really scared to read this one. Despite the MASSIVE love for it out there from everyone from teens to critics to every blogger in the kidlit universe, I was sure it would make me sick. I don't have much stomach for cruelty, and I had heard enough about the plot of this dystopian book to know that it would hit a particularly vulnerable place for me--cruelty to children. I made a bargain with myself--I would start it, but if it got too bad, I'd stop immediately.

I read the damned thing in less than a day. The kind of reading where you don't stop to eat, breathe, or listen to people trying to ask you questions at the reference desk. The reputation this book has is well deserved--it is completely, absolutely gripping. Right until the very last page. And even beyond, because....aaargh!....it's the first part of a TRILOGY! Which means a MAJOR LACK OF RESOLUTION even for those who have raced to the end! Now I know why those lucky people who have landed arcs of the sequel are all gloating.

The plot, in case anyone doesn't know it yet: Katniss Everdeen lives in a bleak futuristic society where, every year, each district surrounding the capital must select one boy and one girl for the Hunger Games, a barbaric televised "entertainment" where they must fight to the death until there is only one survivor. This is the capital's way of punishing the poverty-stricken districts for having dared, once, to revolt. When Katniss's younger sister is chosen to be the female Tribute for her district, a horrified Katniss volunteers to take her place, and she is plunged into the brutal world of the Game.

Why do we all get so caught up in this story? M.T. Anderson, one of my literary heroes, put it best:

The reason I think this book deserves the attention it's getting--beyond the pacing, beyond the pleasing dissonance of the unresolved love triangle...is that in it, a central and real and very troubling question--to what extent is compassion merely a weakness--and kindness merely an evolutionary flaw??--that question is played out quite directly through the action, embodied directly in the plot in scene after scene. We deeply care about Katniss in part because we deeply want some shred of what we think of as humanity to survive. When I read it, I thought it was remarkable that Ms. Collins took this terrifying question and really explored it. She didn't back down or soften the investigation....

The Hunger Games, by the way, was declared winner of this year's inaugural and very entertaining Battle of the (Kid's) Books hosted by School Library Journal. Go take a peek.

Nation by Terry Pratchett

Perhaps [the gods] do exist. I want to know why they act as if they don't...

I've been a lover of Terry Pratchett (his books, I mean) for many years now. To me, his books feel like old friends who happen to also be outrageously funny. I've heard critics say his humour is sophmoric, but I think that's just sour grapes. He's a brilliant man. With Nation, he has produced a book which stands out from the rest of his work, a book which allows his trademark wit to be complicated by deep emotion, loss, and the failure of faith. Nation is a coming-of-age story of great sophistication and maturity, yet magically it's also enormously entertaining. Only Pratchett could attain such a balance. I think it is telling that he wrote Nation during the period that he was diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer's disease, a diagnosis which he reacted to with a "sense of loss and abandonment" and great anger. These feelings find plenty of expression in Nation, particularly in the character of Mau, the book's protagonist. Despite it being precisely tuned into its teen audience, this feels to me like a very personal book for Pratchett.

The story takes place not in Pratchett's usual discworld, but in a parallel universe to earth, on an island in the Pacific Ocean which the inhabitants refer to as the Nation. Mau is nearing the end of his people's coming-to-manhood rites, which involve being taken to another island and left to build your own canoe and paddle home. Mau leaves his boy soul on the boy's island and will receive a new man soul upon his return to the Nation. But while he is at sea, a tidal wave sweeps over his island and destroys his whole people. The same wave deposits a British passenger vessel on the island, its only survivor a minor royal Mau's age named Daphne. Mau and Daphne, who share no common language or culture, together take on the responsibility of survival, and eventually of reforming the Nation out of the survivors from nearby islands who straggle in. But Mau, according to his people's beliefs, no longer has a soul, and is plunged into a spiritual crisis which causes him to question many things. Why have the old gods failed him? Why do the voices of the grandfathers now deliver such futile guidance? Can he have faith in anything but death?

Thinking: This book contains some. Whether you try it at home is up to you.

Nation has been awarded the L.A. Times book prize for young adult literature.

Haven't Read the Book, But Love That Title!

Really...so true. I don't know what's more discouraging, seeing people who deserve self-esteem slog along without it, or seeing people who don't deserve it revel in it.

Can't wait to read this.

Ways to Live Forever by Sally Nicholls

A few years ago I had the privilege of working in the library of a well-known children's hospital. I worked with children in all stages of disease, including some who eventually died. And peripherally, I watched their families deal with their conditions. Sally Nicholls' debut novel, Ways to Live Forever, completely resonated with my memories of that time. It is remarkable in capturing the experience of a dying child with a minimum of sentimentality, and with an absolutely convincing first-person narrator.


Sam is an eleven year old with leukemia whose doctors estimate he has a year to live. He has many questions about death, ranging from practical ("does it hurt to die?") to philosophical ("why does God make kids get ill?). Together with Felix, his best friend who is also terminally ill, Sam tries to work out some answers, and also to pack as much living as he can into his remaining time.

I loved Sam as a character. He is inquisitive and thoughtful, and his insights and investigations seem completely right for his age and experience. There is some unexpected humour, as in the seance scene, where Sam, Felix and Sam's sister Ella try to communicate beyond the grave with an ouija board and a jelly bean. They call up the spirit of "Marian Twanet" ("Pack it in! I said. "Marie Antoinette's not spelled like that") who assures them that being undead is "BORING" and that she spends her days drinking gin and eating cake. Sam's not taken in by this fakester spirit, but considers the possibility that his grandfather is keeping an eye on his grandmother from the other side (she smells his pipe whenever she is particularly unhappy). Although the evidence is circumstantial, Sam believes that "if I were grandad, I'd want to visit too."

One of this book's many strengths is how it shows the effect of Sam's terminal illness on his family. Each person has their own way of coping, and how each one responds to this family crisis reveals a great deal. Small triumphs and connections are captured with delicacy, and grief is never allowed to become overwhelming. I did cry at the end, but Sam's death, surrounded by his family, felt very loving. Ways to Live Forever takes us through Sam's journey in a way that feels uncontrived and true.

Sun and Moon, Ice and Snow by Jessica Day George

And speaking of icy romance...Sun and Moon, Ice and Snow is a retelling of one of my favourite romance-oriented fairy tales, the ancient Scandinavian story "East of the Sun and West of the Moon". I first came under the spell of this story when I read the version so breathtakingly illustrated by P. J. Lynch. Jessica Day George's version spins out this tale into a novel comparable in quality to such favourites as Ella Enchanted by Gail Carson Levine or Beauty by Robin McKinley.


Sun and Moon, Ice and Snow follows the story of a young woman called Pika (or "lass") who lives "long ago and far away, in the land of ice and snow." Her mother dislikes her (and in fact refused to give her a name when she was born) but she is close to her father and her mysterious older brother Hans Peter, a former sailor haunted by memories "too terrible to relate'. The Pika learns a mysterious written language from Hans Peter, and gains the ability to talk to animals through an adventure of her own. But the real adventure begins the night that an isbjorn, or icebear, comes to her home and promises her family wealth if she will come and live with him for a year and a day.


I love the frozen landscape of this story. The vast snowy distances, the palace made of ice, the north, south, east and west winds who buffet Pika along as she nears the climax of her quest, all combine to create a wilder, earthier, more vigorous sense of enchantment than inhabits most fairy-tale romances. As befits a modern retelling, it is Pika's persistent curiosity and intelligence that allows her to understand the scope and source of the ice-bear's enchantment. Elements of the ancient story of Cupid and Psyche also weave their way through the tale, adding a mythological resonance. Altogether, this is a lovely, satisfying addition to the fairy tale cannon for tween and teen girls.

Katrina and I like our fantasy men Cold, Undead and Sparkly

Do I dazzle you?

Twilight fever has finally hit my home. I used to be such a snob about this series of books, even though they have made such a mark on the teen girl landscape--or maybe because of that, actually. It seemed a bit too pop-culture oriented for my taste. And also--vampires? Really! So not my style. All that changed the night my daughter brought home the DVD and I sat down to watch it with her. I finally got the point. Edward Cullen may be a vampire, but he is SMOKING CRAZY HOT! Kind of like Mr. Darcy would be if he could inhabit an undead, buff 17-year old body. What's really sexy, of course, is the intensity and singlemindedness of his passion for Bella, and his desire to know her deeply. And his constant need to restrain himself lest he devour her. And the whole breaking-all-the-rules aspect of their relationship. The adventure part of the story just adds to the spice. So ever since we've watched Bella and Edward onscreen Katrina and I have both been devouring the series with gusto.

So I'm sorry to have to say that I was somewhat disappointed in Catherine Hardwicke's Twilight Director's Notebook: The Story of How We Made the Movie. It's far too small, for one thing. It has pocket-book dimensions when the visual nature of it--largely collages of photos, storyboards and drawings, with some editorial content--calls for more generous sizing. Many of the pictures are so miniscule, my forty-something eyes struggle with the details. Also, I was hoping for something more substantive in terms of content. Lots of the notebook is concerned with how the movie's "look" was created--the character's wardrobes, the different locations scouted--but not much about things like script development, for example, or how the actors came to interpret their roles as they did. Having said that, there is some interesting material here, including some of Catherine Hardwicke's inspirational material (some stunning paintings created by Hardwicke's sister), some deconstruction of key scenes and their filming. The special effects material was fun, too. And I liked having details that had slipped by me pointed out; for example, that all of the Cullens wear a family crest in the movie, the girls as jewellery, the guys on wristbands. Didn't notice that.

Overall, though, I think the slightness of Hardwicke's Notebook makes it only for real Twilight diehards. Like me and Katrina. And a few million other girls and women out there...

A Mother/Daughter Moment: So Totally Emily Ebers by Lisa Yee

My daughter Katrina just wrote a book report on So Totally Emily Ebers. She was pretty cagey about describing the book to me, though, so when I read in her report that she felt she could "completely relate" to Emily's feelings and experiences, of course I had to read it. Well, it turns out that Emily is mostly about a girl whose parents have split up and who blames her mother for the upheaval in her life. Ergo, almost every conversation she has with good old Mom (or "Alice", as Emily calls her) becomes a showdown.

Like this, for example:

"Oh, is she on your volleyball team?" Alice asked.

"Maybe."

"How is volleyball going?"

"Fine."

"Do you like your coach?"

"Maybe."

"Emily, can we talk?"

"No."

See? See how hard it is with her around?

Yep, real impossible Mom you've got there, Emily. You poor, poor thing.