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Bloodhound (The Legend of Beka Cooper, Book 2)


by Tamora Pierce
Random House Books for Young Readers (April 2009)
ISBN-10: 0375814698, ISBN-13: 978-0375814693

My rating: 4/5 stars

–Bloodhound (The Legend of Beka Cooper, Book 2)
by Tamora Pierce, p. 15.

If you like fantasy and you haven’t read Tamora Pierce, you’re missing out.

Pierce’s books have strong female characters, great world building and settings, and characters facing conflict and coming out on top. Bloodhound
is no exception.

Beka Cooper used to live in a slum area, and knows how to talk street talk and notice what’s happening around her, see pickpockets and more. She trained to be part of the Provost’s Guard (like a police officer), and now she’s a full member, a Dog–and trying to make her co-workers proud. But some don’t want to work with her, because she always wants to do what is right, and is fierce about it. There are a lot of crooked guards. But Beka persists. With her tenacity, talent, and some magic (she can hear the newly dead whose souls fly on the backs of pigeons, and can hear bits of conversations that happened close to wind) she hunts down criminals and strives to put things right–including a huge undertaking, fighting couterfieters which threaten to undermine the whole country through putting too much fake silver into the regions. Beka also discovers a new lover, and gains a new animal companion, in addition to her cat and the pigeons.

The story is written in diary form, in a strong, vivid voice. Most of the writing is compelling and fast moving, but there were places where the diary format grated on me and made me notice the convention, such as the too-frequent repetition that Beka was too tired to write any more that night, or the fact that she was writing. It sometimes got in the way of the story for me, and I wished it wasn’t there. But the rest of the time, Beka’s voice is strong and vibrant.

Pierce is an expert at making the world in her books seem real. She brings such great setting detail without giving too much, and brings in the senses–sound, smell, touch, taste, and of course sight–which helps the reader really believe in the setting. The language, too, flows beautifully, and I found myself so immersed in the book that for the few days while i was reading it, I’d find myself thinking “mayhap” and other language from the time period.

Pierce has an ability to make strong-girl characters that the reader cares about and roots for. Pierce’s characters come alive, and she uses specific details that help make them stand out–even walk on characters, such as a carter with blackened teeth. These details help make the characters believable and to feel real. You’ll come to care about the characters, especially Beka, for her bravery, her courage, her tenacity and her fiestiness, as well as her compassion and good-heartedness. For her wanting to do what is right, and help protect others. Beka is a wonderful, full character, with some self doubt, impulsiveness, and shyness to round her off, and she excels at her job as a guard.

Pierce brings a lot of good feeling with there being many good characters who revolve around or interact positively with Beka, showing her kindness, affection, or respect, or offering help, which works to balance out the negative things that happen. Pierce also uses some language specific to her worlds, as well as to the time period, likely from England. I had no trouble with the language and could easily follow along, but there is a glossary in the back for readers who need it.

There’s a nice thread of romance and some sexual tension, as Beka finds herself choosing between two possible boyfriends. I love that the strong-girl character is still desired by the male characters, and valued for her strength and her character as well as her beauty.

There were a few things that didn’t work as well for me in the book. I felt like this story was missing a bit of tension, perhaps because Beka didn’t have to prove herself to anyone any more, or when she was faced with danger, we didn’t always get to see it. It also felt like there were too many characters, at least for me; they distracted from the main or important characters, and I often couldn’t follow all of them. There IS a character reference/map at the back of the book, which I didn’t realize when i was reading–but i wouldn’t have wanted to stop reading every time i didn’t know who a character was to check (it interferes with the flow), and i don’t think a reader should have to…. But that’s me.

There were a few scenes where it felt like Pierce avoided some conflict and pain that would have made a great scene, telling us things afterwards, such as when Bekka was attacked at her house. I felt a bit cheated as a reader to have Bekka not remember things. There was also the occasional scene which felt like it should have a point or something connected to it that matters later, but didn’t, and didn’t seem to advance the story forward, such as when Bekka talks to her cousin and he realizes she really talks to pigeons. And we’re told that Bekka is upset about temporarily losing her cat, but I don’t think we saw enough affection between them or a deep enough relationship to believe it.

Beka is an engaging and likable character, as are Goodwin and Tunstall, and others. This is the second book in a series, (Terrier being the first), but you don’t need to have read the first book to enjoy this one. This was a thoroughly enjoyable read–one that captured my interest, immersed me completely in the world, and made me eager to read on right to the very end.

Highly recommended.

If you like this book, check out Pierce’s Song of the Lioness; Immortals Quartet; and Protector of the Small series for more fantastic, strong-girl reads.

Song of the Lioness:
• Alanna: The First Adventure (Song of the Lioness, Book 1),
• In the Hand of the Goddess (The Song of the Lioness),
• The Woman Who Rides Like a Man (The Song of the Lioness), and
• Lioness Rampant (The Song of the Lioness);

Immortals Quartet:
• Wild Magic (The Immortals, Book 1),
• Wolf-speaker (the immortals, Book 2),
• Emperor Mage (The Immortals, Book III), and
• The Realms of the Gods (The Immortals);

Protector of the Small:
• First Test (Protector of the Small),
• Page: Book 2 of the Protector of the Small Quartet,
• Squire: Book 3 of the Protector of the Small Quartet, and
• Lady Knight: Book 4 of the Protector of the Small Quartet.

Sarah’s Waterfall: A Healing Story about Sexual Abuse
by Ellery Akers, illustrated by Angelique Benicio
Safer Society Press (March 2009)
ISBN-10: 1884444792, ISBN-13: 978-1884444791
Ages 9-12 and up.

My rating: 4/5

Monday, August 23

My Journal

It’s a little weird being in this after-school counseling group for sexually abused kids. But my Gram thinks it will help me. Sexual abuse. It sounds like measles. I like the journal they gave me, though. I like the sound of the crinkly, fancy paper when I turn the pages, and the swans on the cover, and the gold key. I keep the key around my neck on a silver chain. I like it that no one can ever open my journal but me. It’s mine, and it’s private. I guess I’m supposed to write and draw how I feel..

–Sarah’s Waterfall, by Ellery Akers, illustrated by Angelique Benicio, p. 1.

Sarah was sexually abused by her step-father, and now she lives with her loving and protective grandmother. Sarah makes journal entries at the start of the school year after she joins a girls’ survivor group led by the school psychiatrist. Sarah begins to feel safe again with her grandmother, and makes a good friend in a fellow survivor, Paula.

Sarah’s Waterfall: A Healing Story about Sexual Abuse focuses on healing from the effects of the abuse, and not on the actual abuse; no details are given of the abuse. Specific healing and somatic exercises are described throughout the book as part of the story, allowing readers to learn and absorb the techniques without feeling that they’re learning. Sometimes Sarah or her best friend, Paula, uses a technique in situations after she’s learned it, reinforcing the technique and showing readers how they can apply it to real life situations. However, one example where Paula used the oak tree felt ineffective to me, since she used it to be silly and didn’t get positive reinforcement.

The story is written in first-person diary format, and is engaging, though there are a few entries that feel out of place or disconnected in the story (but for the most part they flow well). The story has some lightness through Sarah’s relationship with her Gram and Paula, as well as through her focus on specific sensory details that are calming or grounding. Many of the effects, such as feeling dirty, will be easy to relate to for any sexual abuse survivor, and there are concrete suggestions about how to deal with it. The colored illustrations that appear every few pages also help bring some lightness and visual appeal.

Akers uses specific everyday and sensory details that are light or not about the abuse, that help bring the reader into the story and bring some grounding and texture, such as Sarah’s new diary which has crinkly paper, or her Gram having a sponge that smells like the sea. Akers also uses strong, powerful descriptions and analogies throughout the story: “I thought how tree roots go deep in the dark earth, parts the stones, and sink down, and my feet felt heavy.”

Story text spacing is about 1.5, with space between each line, which helps the reader move faster through the book than they normally would.

I enjoyed the story; it felt light and healing. However, I would have liked the story to feel a little more cohesive, with more threads running through it, and to get to know Sarah more fully; I feel like we barely knew her. Also, the ending came too quickly for me, and felt a bit forced and not satisfying. It said that Sarah felt clean, but I wasn’t sure I believed it; i didn’t see enough movement or change in Sarah. Yet it’s a good message in the ending.

This is a hopeful book, letting readers who are survivors know that they can heal and find some safety, and letting readers who haven’t experienced such abuse know that survivors aren’t to blame. Through the writing, Akers reminds us to use the things around us that feel good, and our senses, to cope with trauma–such as noticing the sound of water from a hose on flowers. This is an important book. It focuses on healing, offers concrete real healing tools and techniques that are important for survivors–child and adult survivors both–to learn.

Benicio’s color illustrations help bring some lightness to the book, with the smiling characters, calming surroundings and beautiful colors. The illustrations move between professional illustrations and illustrations that are meant to be Sarah’s own drawings in her diary, and this is an engaging mix. I particularly enjoyed the illustration of Sarah in the waterfall getting clean, with her imagined Wonder Woman to help her.

Highly recommended.

The Hunger Games is one of those books that is so powerful and moving, it feels like a treasure, a reminder of the reason we read. It is near perfect–and I don’t say that about many books. You won’t want to miss this one.

The Hunger Games

by Suzanne Collins

Scholastic Press (September 2008)

ISBN-13: 978-0439023481

My rating: 5 out of 5 stars

–The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins, p. 3.

The Hunger Gamesis one of the most gripping, moving books I have read in a long time. It kept me on the edge of my seat the whole time; it’s a real adrenaline pumper and a deeply satisfying read.

Sixteen-year-old Katniss lives with her mother and sister in the poorest district of Panem, the remains of what used be the United States. The Capitol controls its working masses through controlled starvation, rigid laws, and a horrifying yearly ritual, The Hunger Games, while the people in the Capitol live with excess (not unlike most of us). The Hunger Games is an annual televised event where, each year, each district must send one boy and one girl to the Capitol to fight to the death. Only one child may remain alive as the victor. The children are picked by their names being drawn–and this is rigged against the poorest. Since so many of the families in the poorest districts are starving, the Capitol allows them to draw a monthly ration of grain and oil for each child–but each time they do, that child’s name is added, again, into the pot for the Hunger Games. Katniss is protective of her sister, and never allows her sister to draw rations for the family; instead, Katniss selflessly does, and also hunts for her family. So when Katniss’ sister is chosen for the Hunger Games, Katniss offers to go in her place.

Collins pulled me into her story world and kept me utterly immersed. I cared about the characters strongly and what happened to them. Since the stakes were so high (my three favorite characters might die) it made me care about them–and worry about them–even more.

Katniss is an immensely likable and believable character who readers will root for. I grew to really care about her throughout the book. Katniss is loyal and loving, and willing to risk her life–even sacrifice it–to save her sister, Prim, who she loves and is fiercely protective of. She is also protective of others. Katniss is brave, resourceful, determined, and strong. She’s very intelligent, and able to not only analyze and figure out what’s going on in the Hunger Games, but to use that knowledge. She’s incredibly skilled with the bow and arrow, and at climbing trees, which helps the reader like her more. And she has compassion and caring for others, even though she sometimes gets confused about or doesn’t want to admit what she’s feeling. Katniss is a spunky, fiesty, admirable hero.

Katniss also has a temper, and she rebels in various ways against the Capitol, which is refreshing. Katniss has trouble trusting people, holds a grudge against her mother, is angry with her, and has kept herself emotionally distant from her ever since her mother abandoned Katniss and Prim for several months. This anger and resentment makes Katniss more rounded and believable, with some understandable “faults.”

Collins knew what she was doing; she helps the reader like Katniss more fully and more quickly through having so many people in the book who respond so well to Katniss, treating her with kindness and respect. Katniss has many unexpected allies. The kindness she receives also helps to offset the horrible circumstances that Kitniss is in, and helps to keep the book from becoming too painful. Some small bits of humor are woven into some of the worst moments, such as the choosing of the “tributes”–the children who will have to fight to the death–which also helps offset the horror.

Collins also quickly makes the reader care about Peetah, the boy from Katniss’ district who is also chosen for the Hunger Games, and who Katniss likes and has a history with. Collins reveals, through small bits of backstory woven into the story, the kindness and generosity Peetah showed Katniss at a time when she desperately needed it. Perhaps because that kindness involved a basic need–food (to offset starvation)–it is especially moving. Collins makes the link clear for the reader between the kindness Peetah showed Katniss and her regained hope and ability to keep herself and her family alive. This makes the link between Katniss and Peetah even stronger, and increases the bond, confusion, and tension when they enter the Hunger Games together. It makes the reader want to root for Peetah, too, and hope that he somehow comes out alive as well. Collins also makes us care for Rue, a fellow tribute in the Hunger Games who reminds Katniss of her sister, and who is young and somewhat vulnerable. All three characters are likable, empathizable, and well drawn, and the reader will root for the safety of them all.

Collins deftly draws on reader emotions, masterfully ratcheting up the tension and then providing relief for the reader, then increasing the tension again, making The Hunger Games a wonderful ride. The story is so moving, it made me cry a few times throughout the book. There are great highs and lows–and high stakes for the characters that you come to intensely care about. Despite the horrible events in the book, and the abject cruelty and inhumaneness of the Capitol, the story holds a lot of hope–through Katniss’ humanity and compassion, and through the compassion, kindness, and respect from others. That hope is what helped pull me through.

Collins creates a great atmosphere and believable setting, bringing in details that help you feel, smell, and see the place. She uses foreshadowing well, and consistently has fantastic cliff-hanger chapter ends, where you want to turn the page quickly to find out what happens next. Collins’ use of backstory adds layers and depth the story, and the scenes link together to create a larger picture. It works incredibly well. There’s also a thread of romance, more from the boys’ perspective than from Katniss’, though Katniss slowly begins to look at her feelings–and this adds another layer to the story and some needed distraction from the horrificness.

Collins made starvation, dehydration, physical pain, hallucinations, and the state one gets in when threatened with torture or death very believable. She also gave Katniss emotional reactions to the murder of a tribute she cared about, and to the first hand-to-hand murder she committed in the games, which puts the murders into context, helps the reader care and feel along with Katniss, and brings depth to the book. She also, through Katniss’ working out of her own grief, allows the reader to work through that grief with her.

The Hunger Games has many parallels to our world–people starving while others have riches of food and wealth–not just between North America and some poorer countries, but within our own country; people’s attraction to violence; broadcasting The Hunger Games like reality TV while people struggle; and the horrific acts of cruelty, torture, and murder that people are capable of, and that happen around the world, even in our own countries, as well as the incredible acts of compassion, kindness, and resistance to cruelty that people are capable of. All these give The Hunger Games greater meaning and potency–most especially if any of those things have touched the reader personally.

One small thing that didn’t feel quite right to me was the weight Collins gave to a bird pin that Katniss received early in the story. That importance didn’t seem to be followed through with. Yes, it allowed Rue, a fellow tribute, to trust her–but it still didn’t seem to be as important or as pivotal as I was expecting, given the attention that was placed on it. Also, there’s danger for Katniss even after everything seems like it should be safe–but though we’re told of the danger, I didn’t feel it as much as in the rest of the book, and I wondered if it was only there to keep reader interest.

I completely believed in the world Collins created almost every moment of the book, but the appearance of the dead tributes as mutations felt unbelievable and took me out of the story. It felt forced, like a way to try to hype up the emotion, when there was already enough. Or perhaps it felt just slightly too sci-fi to fit the rest of the world Collins created, though she did lay the ground with lab-created birds and bees. It just didn’t work for me.

The ending wasn’t satisfying for me. It felt cut off mid-story, leaving some story threads hanging, and though I can see that that’s a hook for readers to buy the next book in the series, it marred the ending of what was close to a perfect book for me. I don’t like being left hanging–it doesn’t seem right in a book (but that’s my personal opinion). Still, I enjoyed the book immensely; it was so well written, powerful, and moving. Of course I’m going to get my hands on the next book when it comes out–but I wish the ending of the first book had been more satisfying.

The Hunger Games is one of the most gripping, enjoyable, emotional books that I have read in many months. It’s a book I didn’t want to end, and I wish the next book was out already. It’s a book I’ll keep talking about and recommending to my friends for a long time. Get yourself a copy! Highly recommended!

The Pretty One

by Cheryl Klam

Delacorte/Random House (April 2008)

ISBN-13: 978-0385733731

My rating: 4 out of 5 stars

–A La Carte by Tanita Davis, p. 4-5.

The Pretty One is a gripping emotional ride that has budding romance, tension, sibling rivalry, social tensions, and gives a strong feeling of what it’s like to be an outsider, as well as what it’s like to be liked for your looks. The Pretty One is one of those books that you’ll find yourself turning the pages fast to find out what happens next–and not wanting to stop ’til you get to the end.

Sixteen-year-old Megan isn’t beautiful like her sister, Lucy. While her sister gets dates, constant attention from males and females alike, and popularity at their drama school, Megan sits at home watching movies with her best friend Simon, or going out to dinner with her mother. Lucy gets any boy she wants; she knows how to play them, and her beauty makes boys fall for her. Megan wishes she could have some of the ease and popularity that her sister does–but she gets along okay. Her one friend (Simon), her cutting humor, and her artistic skills help her.

But then everything changes. She’s hit by a car and has to undergo multiple surgeries, including face surgery. A year or so later, after she’s recovered, she’s beautiful, in the societal sense, and everyone treats her differently, including Lucy and her parents. She learns what it’s like to have people like her for her looks, and she attracts Drew’s attention–a boy she’s secretly liked for years. Megan gains instant attention and some popularity. People just treat her better. But everything isn’t roses for Megan. It doesn’t feel very good to be liked for what she looks like, not who she is (though at first she gets a bit of a thrill). Then her sister, Lucy, is determined to go after Drew–and Lucy always gets every boy she goes after. Megan feels like a stranger; her physical beauty creates a lot of tension. And Megan starts forgetting who she really is.

Klam writes romantic tension well, building up the question of will she or won’t she get the guy she secretly adores–or will she fall in love for her best friend, who’s fallen for her? Klam increases the tension through Megan’s insecurity and awkwardness, her long crush on Drew, Lucy’s sudden interest in Drew and her skill with boys, and Megan’s best friend Simon falling in love with her–after her surgery. The plot and the writing kept me engaged in the story, racing to the end.

It’s easy to like and to root for Megan–intensely. She’s the underdog and the outcast in this book–ignored, mistreated by popular kids at school because she’s not pretty. But Megan is also thoughtful, kind (even though sometimes she seems a little too kind, to the point of denying herself), funny, and artistic. She’s sensitive about her weight, which many readers will identify with, and is frequently self-conscious and socially awkward. She also consistently puts her sister’s needs and wants before her own, which, while at times makes her seem kind and thoughtful, at other times can feel annoying (like stop letting people walk over you, already!). Megan sometimes has angry thoughts at her sister, which is refreshing and helps balance out her actions. I found myself wanting Megan to succeed, and caring about whether she did or not.

Megan’s cutting humor makes her fresh and more likable. She’s aware of the social tensions around her, has intelligence and depth, though often seems oblivious to her sister’s true motivations and intentions. At times this seems unbelievable, but it also allows the reader to “know” something that Megan doesn’t. I loved Megan’s observations and cutting humor; they drew me into the book. However, she lost that (intentionally, I think, on Klam’s part) after she became beautiful–and I don’t feel like she ever really got that back, which was disappointing. It felt like we lost the character’s voice–a voice I’d really enjoyed. I would have liked to see Megan retain more of her causticness, humor, and depth; it kept her from being too much of a victim.

The point that Megan finally stood up to her sister’s spitefulness prompts the first major crisis and change in the book, helping make it more poignant.

Lucy, Megan’s sister, is such a huge contrast–she’s beautiful, popular, has guys lusting after her. She’s also incredibly self-centered, selfish, manipulative, superficial, and mean. She’s easy to dislike. This contrast makes Megan seem all the more likable. Still, at times Megan comes across like a saint or a victim; I would have preferred her to be less self-effacing with her sister. Lucy also sometimes seems like a bit of a caricature and a stereotype–beautiful but mean, and little else. Lucy’s mean-spirited streak is so well built up that the events leading up to the accident feel believable and real.

Megan, Simon, and Drew feel the most rounded and well drawn. Megan’s parents, however, are flat–characters who seem placed there only to react and respond to Megan, and their responses are either too extreme (the father) or too bland (the mother) to feel real. Megan’s father seems incredibly obtuse and emotionally insensitive, even hurtful, of Megan about her looks and weight, while her mother seems unbelievably supportive in a too-perfect dialogue way, and little else. The parents were absent so much it didn’t feel real. I didn’t believe in the parents, whereas Megan, Simon, and Drew felt real, like they could have existed before the book began.

A very small thing that drew me out of the story was the number of times characters said something “quietly.” It can be hard to portray compassion, sensitivity, upset in tone of voice, but I would have liked to see some alternatives. I also wasn’t sure I believed how Megan couldn’t see, for so long, that Simon was attracted to her. But that added tension, especially for the reader. Megan’s strongest responses were over her relationship with Lucy, which I often didn’t believe, and over Drew, which I did believe.

Simon, Megan’s friend, is staunchly loyal of and supportive to Megan before she becomes beautiful, and this is a relief. It helps buoy up the first fifth of the book, where so much is so hard for her, in a very different way than later on in the book.

I completely believed in Megan’s incredible talent to create detailed and beautiful dioramas, though I didn’t believe in her drawing skill (i would have if the backstory had been established before the fact). Her obsession with dioramas gave her a more rounded feeling, and was interesting to read about.

Drew’s play (that he wrote, directs, and casts Megan in) becomes a big thread in the story. Clem includes the play in the back of the book, which is a neat touch. Every chapter heading uses a word from theatre language, which also is a neat idea, though I wasn’t sure the headings always fit the chapter completely. Still, I enjoying reading the words and their definitions.

The Pretty One is a fun, entertaining, intense read. Every time I put this book down, I wanted to pick it back up and start reading again. Check out this book; you’ll find yourself caring for Megan and the outcome, and enjoying the tension while she gets where she’s going. Highly recommended!

-Added July 03, 2008

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Breakfast at Sadie’s

by Lee Weatherly

Laurel Leaf/Random House (April 2008)

ISBN-13: 978-0-440-24069-3

My rating: 5 out of 5 stars

–Breakfast at Sadie’s by Lee Weatherly, p. 1.

Breakfast at Sadie’s was so good that I couldn’t put it down; I was late for a meeting because I didn’t want to stop reading–and I hate being late. I didn’t want the book to ever end–that’s how good this book is. There wasn’t a mistep in it; nothing pulled me out of the wonderful world Weatherly created. I think it is Weatherly’s best book so far, and it is one of my new favorite books. It’s a real feel-good read.

Fourteen-year-old Sadie struggles in school, and is always being told by her mother that she’s lazy or not working hard enough when she brings home bad grades. When she comes home, she helps out at the bed and breakfast where they live, though she’d rather be doing something else. Then her mom gets ill–temporarily paralyzed–and has to stay in the hospital for about three months. Sadie is left with her irresponsible, immature aunt to run the B & B. But her aunt leaves Sadie all alone–and suddenly Sadie is faced with having to run the B & B herself, and not let any adults find out, in case they tell her mom (which might make her more sick), or put Sadie in care. Sadie struggles to keep everything together–and then she starts to find out that she’s good at running the B & B–when it doesn’t make her late for school. She also finds some friends in places she didn’t expect–and discovers that she might not be stupid, after all.

Weatherly (Missing Abby, Child X) creates a strong, believable voice in Sadie, a sympathizable and resourceful hero who struggles with self-confidence but wins out in the end. Her actions are all beleivable, especially with the reasons Weatherly has laid out in the plot. All of the characters feel beleivable and unique, which adds to the richness of the story. The text is beautifully written; Weatherly nicely sprinkles in bits of backstory, sensory detail, and vivid analogies, and mixes up dialogue with everyday actions, helping us to both see and hear the characters. Events build perfectly on each other, with characters who become involved placed early in the book, making us believe in them. Weatherly deftly shows characters’ emotions through their actions and body language, getting the reader involved, and creates great tension with just the right amount of positive events. Weatherly has created a heartwarming and uplifting book.

Sadie is an instantly likable and sympathizable character. Her mother goes at her for not getting good enough grades and not trying hard enough, though Sadie works very hard–something many readers will be able to relate to (being criticized by a parent). Sadie is good natured, has a great sense of humor, and is clearly intelligent, though she thinks she isn’t. She’s an incredibly hard worker, and deals with circumstances that would be hard for most anyone. Some readers might get convinced, along with Sadie, that she’s not very smart (since she doesn’t do well at school), so Weatherly uses a great technique to show us otherwise–showing us through other characters’ dialogue that Sadie is smart and resourceful. This works well, the reader realizing along with Sadie just how intelligent she is. Weatherly also shows us how intelligent Sadie is through some of the changes she makes to the B & B herself.

Sadie finds many unexpected allies that help and protect her, and those characters work to bring a happy, uplifting feeling to what could have been a painful book. The characters feel rounded and full, just like Sadie.

Sadie changes and grows through the book, moving from thinking that she’s stupid because she can’t get good grades but works really hard at it; letting her “friends” put her down and basically call her stupid; and hating working at her Mom’s B & B, to learning that she’s intelligent and resourceful, and just needs the space to do schoolwork without pressure; finding new friends who really appreciate and like her for her, and see how intelligent she is; and enjoying running the B & B on her own, learning that she can be successful at something that others might find hard to do. She also grows in confidence and skills, and learns to see one of her teachers as a person, not just a dreaded teacher.

Sadie’s mom also changes, becoming wiser and kinder. I believed the explanation, though would have liked to see the transition just a little more. Still, the story is firmly Sadie’s.

Sadie’s Aunt Leona is an incredibly self-absorbed, immature, selfish woman, and it’s easy to dislike her and get angry at the way she treats Sadie. Her actions build to a small crisis, which feels believable, based on her previous actions. Thankfully, she doesn’t remain a big part of the book, and some intervention near the end (in the form of a threat from another adult) helps her change and become responsible. Aunt Leona’s actions set in motion a course of events that help Sadie really succeed, which is a nice twist. We also see through contrast just how mature, resourceful, and skilled Sadie is.

There were only two minor details that I didn’t fully believe, that hardly seem worth mentioning–I wasn’t sure that Sadie could copy answers from someone else’s paper in the dark, and I didn’t see how Sadie could collect cash for the B & B without it seeming like she was evading tax or involved in something shady. But those were such tiny things; I was fully absorbed in and enjoyed Sadie’s world.

I enjoyed how Sadie was so good at the B & B business, and couldn’t see how hard it was for others (though we, the readers, could see this). I also loved the revelations, the truth finally coming out to quite a number of people, who either helped or showed Sadie that she really was remarkable. This worked especially well because Sadie fought so hard to keep the truth a secret.

Breakfast at Sadie’s is one of those books that feeds your soul, lifts you up, and fills you with good feeling and hope. Run and get yourself a copy; you won’t regret it.

Highly recommended!

(If you haven’t read her other books, I suggest you check them out. Missing Abby is also wonderful.)

Angel


by Cliff McNish

Carolrhoda Books/Lerner (February 2008)

ISBN-13: 978-0822589006

My rating: 3 out of 5 stars

–Angel by Cliff McNish, p. 8.

Freya saw an angel when she was a little girl–an angel who spoke to her, telling her she had greatness, or could have greatness–and she’s never forgotten it. She started looking for that angel everywhere, obsessing about him. Of course no one else believed her, and eventually she was given psychiatric care. Freya comes back home–and she sees the angel again. He has something important for her to do.

Meanwhile, Freya’s older brother is keeping a secret from her, and dealing with bullies. Then Freya meets someone who believes in angels–Stephenie, a girl who’s an outcast at her school. Stephenie thinks she met Freya for a reason–to become her friend, to help her believe in angels again. But Freya is too afraid of becoming ‘crazy’ again, and she’s trying too hard to fit in and be accepted by a group of stuck-up girls to become Stephenie’s friend. And then things spiral out of control.

Angel starts out with a lot of promise. I was gripped by the incredible writing in the first third of the book–the wonderful connections that kept popping up between characters, the way everything all fit together, the emotion running through the writing, and, I admit, what seemed like hope. In the beginning of reading Angel, I had that thrill that a truly great book gives me, the excitement of reading beautiful writing and a gripping story.

Half way through the book, I wasn’t enjoying it as much, and by the end of the book, I felt dissatisfied and let down–Freya, the main character, was not very likable, she rarely ever acted to help other people in her personal life, there was little hope (which I, personally, like in a book) while there was a lot of darkness, and what hope their was seemed forced, just pasted in to make it hopeful. The most likable character was her brother, who had a real sense of justice, was brave, stood up for someone else despite his fear. I kept wondering–why isn’t the book about him?

McNish opened the book by immediately plunging us into fantasy–a great move, letting the reader know exactly what kind of book this was. Character interactions were good and believable, bringing some roundedness to them. And the mix between today’s harsh realities, Freya being considered mentally ill, and angels being real worked well. Most readers will also likely identify with Freya trying so hard to fit in and be accepted.

But Freya was so self-absorbed, selfish, and lacking any spine that I didn’t like her at all–and that’s not a great thing when it’s the main character. She had the right instincts and even some compassion, but she never acted on them, except toward the end of the book where it felt forced and unreal. There was so much pain and bleakness in the book, and so little real hope that I found the book depressing–not what I’m looking for in a fantasy. I found it even harder to accept because the beginning writing was so beautiful. The ending also felt unbelievable to me and very contrived.

Stephenie, a girl who believes in angels, was connected to Freya well in alternating scenes. However, her extreme cluelessness felt unbelievable and, after a while, became tiresome. McNish deftly wove in backstory that made Luke seem real, not just a hero–it gave him depth, explained his actions and feelings, and helped the reader root for him.

There’s a lot going on in Angel, a lot of threads that are deftly pulled throughout the story and details that are carefully laid to build on each other–Freya’s father being sick, and her not seeing it; Freya’s brother Luke dealing with bullies, and his past; Freya warring with the bonds society placed on her and her belief in angels, and then actual angels; Stephenie longing for a friend in Freya, and much more. This could have been an incredible book, but for me, it just didn’t work. Still, I can’t help admiring what did work so well. I’m sure this book will still find it’s way to readers who love it. Check it out, see what you think.

Back in September, I got to hear Sherman Alexie do an interview with Minnesota Public Radio. He was part of the Talking Volumes series we have here. I had read his Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian and had really liked it. He was just as entertaining in person as the book was on paper. Here are a few notes.

The people most influential to his writing were his father, his grandmother, Steven King, John Steinbeck, and the Brady Bunch. From his father and grandmother he got traditional stories and the pathology of the alcoholic mind (can't tell from my notes which came from who on these first two items); he thinks Steven King is the greatest storyteller in America; he loves Steinbeck's writing on social justice; and the Brady Bunch showed him a sense of timing.

"When a white guy starts whining about his lack of power, that's when I want to punch him."



Growing up on the rez was even more bleak than the book depicts. He has 3 deaths in the book, but in real life, there were 9 deaths the year he left to go to school off the rez.

He doesn't write about American Indian ceremonies, partly because it's boring. "Do we really need to read another story about a sweat lodge?"

He flirted with the interviewer, Kerri Miller. "We're gonna play captivity narrative later. Kerri's really hot." (I should listen to the whole program--see below--to see if they edited any of his less politically correct stuff out.)

He wishes he could be a musician. He's so jealous when he sees people in the audience singing along with the musical guest (they had live music at the event). When asked why he admires music so much more than, it seems, writing, he said: "Books work above the waist. And music works below the waist."

The far left has been jumping on him lately. "It's amazing the sharp teeth vegans have. I guess they've been honing them on their hypocrisy."

Alexie has a contentious relationship with his work. "All I see are the Band-aids."

"I'm so prolific, I think, because I'm running away from self-loathing. It's right behind me."

"It's about putting on masks...like the 9 I'm wearing tonight."

That last quote felt very true. Alexie was funny and irreverent and it was a bit like watching a comedian get interviewed. They're too busy doing their bits to really reveal much about themselves. But then there did seem to be moments when the masks came off, too. I'm looking forward to reading his forthcoming poetry collection, Brash, too.

If you want to listen to the whole radio program, visit MPR's site. By the way, this was before the National Book Awards nominations were announced, so there was no discussion of that.