Midnight at the Electric

I’m in a melancholy mood, and this book is part of the reason.  The three main characters—Adri in 2065, Catherine in 1934, and Lenore in 1919—are all aching for something, some intangible piece to make their lives feel whole.  And this makes you ache with them, which I guess is a good sign of a well-written book.

The characters in this book were very well-rounded.  The real setting of the book is in the future, and Adri is getting ready to leave to settle Mars.  However, before she goes, she must spend her last three months with a distant cousin she’s never met.  While there, she finds Catherine’s letters from the 1934 Dust Bowl era, and within those letters are another set of letters from Lenore in 1919 Britain after WWI to her best friend, Catherine’s mother.  The layering of so many different stories does not seem strained and the progressions though them are very natural.  The characters have a tenuous connection, but their aches for something more, some more fulfilling connection is a constant pulse throughout the book.  

My only concern about this book is that it’s more of a thinking and processing book, meaning the characters are constantly talking about what they are thinking and whether or not it matters in the grade scheme of things.  Yes, there are young adult readers who do enjoy a slower paced novel, but the target audience is very narrow.  Most young adults I know want action or larger-than-life characters instead of a let’s-think-about-the-meaning-of-life main character.

Overall, it’s not a bad read, just be prepared for a downer.

One Day We’ll All Be Dead and None of This Will Matter

This collection of essays was one I found on one of those “must read” lists, and I was pleasantly surprised at how much I connected with the material.

The author, Scaachi Koul, was born to Indian immigrants in Canada, so this book really is her insights into being a brown woman in a predominantly white male field.  Each of the ten essays highlights a different problem in our world culture:  one is about racism (overt racism or the more insidious subversive type), another is about being discontent with your body size but understanding that clothes won’t change your mindset, another is about how family traditions matter as a way to connect your past, and yet another is about body hair and the illusive “beauty” most women are trying to achieve.  For the most part, her essays speak a truth that is sometimes funny, sometimes crass.

There were two essays that stuck out to me the most.  The first was “Mute,” about the harmful affects of the internet.  As a middle school teacher, I always try to speak to my students about the impact they make online.  We even write an argumentative essay debating if you should be prosecuted for what you say online.  So when I read her story about the backlash from a Tweet she posted, I understood.  I understand how putting opinions online make people feel secure in saying whatever hateful vehemence they desire.  As Koul says, “What they say to me online is the purest distillation of the rage they feel—statements that would get them fired or arrested in real life but get them a moderate fan base or begrudging attention online.  Maybe they consider their online presence a separate existence, but we all know it’s the same person, no matter the platform.”  This problem is what my students sometimes fail to understand:  things on the internet don’t go away and nothing is anonymous.  It’s a really hard balance, especially for kids who’ve grown up with the internet at their fingertips.

The other essay that really struck me was entitled “Hunting Season.”  This one was timely since it discussed the rape culture and how women have to be so careful with their bodies. Koul talks about being roofied and how “the intersection of rape culture and and surveillance culture means that being a guarded drinker is not only my responsibility, it is my sole responsibility.  Any lapse in judgement could not only result in clear and present danger, but also set me up for a chorus of ‘Well, she should’ve known better.’” Thankfully, I’ve never encountered some of the explicit stories she shared, but I know people who have, I’ve seen the news articles, and I hope that with the recent Hollywood harassment issues, it helps shape our culture into one where boundaries are understood.

All in all, this read was a good reminder that we all still have some issues to work through (if you can handle the sometimes course language).

The Watch that Ends the Night: Voices from the Titanic

I love reading about all things history, especially the opulence of the Gilded Age.  Reading this novel about the sinking of the Titanic fueled this reading fire.

There are many variations on Titanic novels out there, so what makes this one special?  Not only does it mix poetry, prose, songs, and memos; it also is visually intriguing.  As a very visual person, looks do matter.  Usually with novels, how a book looks isn’t taken past the cover art, but with this book, Wolf took the time to create a story with how the words are placed on the page.  For example, one character we meet is the ship’s rat who is continually scampering down the page instead of going straight left to right.  Another is when the ship starts sinking, the words start tilting side to side to further emphasize the point.  When moving to the perspective of the Marconi operator, Morse code is interspersed with the text.  Wolf’s attention to detail just amazes me!

This book technically has nine “chapters” or as they call them “watches” with twenty-five different character’s perspectives.  This is interesting because each character has their own voice.  The three-year-old traveling with his father has a very broken speech with no punctuations.  The immigrant Olaus writes exclusively in letters and prose while Margaret Brown, the socialite, writes in free verse poetry while the iceberg is in pompous iambic pentameter.  The only downfall of having twenty-five main characters is…there are twenty-five people to remember who they are.  Some are easier than others to remember because they show up more frequently, like Jamila Nicola-Yarred, a third-class passenger traveling with her brother, or Frankie Goldsmith, another immigrant child who’s obsessed with dragons, or E.J. Smith, the ship’s captain.  But other characters are less memorable, like Eugene Daly, the bagpiper, or Isaac Maynard, an entree cook with a ridiculously long mustache.  This also hinders the start of the novel and makes the action move slowly.  Most young adults I know won’t wait until page 200 for the real action to start.

Allan Wolf says in his author’s note, “My aim in writing [this novel] was not to present history.  My aim was to present humanity.  The people represented in this book lived and breathed and loved.  They were as real as you or me.  They could have been any one of us.” And he has succeeded in this aim.  By humanizing the characters, showing their flaws and choices, it makes the reader think about what their choices would have been and shows how all choices have consequences.  This is a theme anyone can relate to.

A Study in Scarlet Women: Sherlock Holmes Reimagined

I love all things Sherlock Holmes, and this Sherry Thomas adaptation plays right into this fascination.  

What Thomas has done is take the traditional Sherlock characters in their traditional time period but twisted the roles.  Sherlock Holmes is now the pseudonym of Charlotte Holmes, who has a brilliant mind stuck in a classically beautiful body.  She goes to drastic measures to get out from under her parents expectations of marriage (think purposefully engaging in relations with a married man and getting caught) and ends up running away from home.  She learns, with the help from some friends and new acquaintances, how to make money off “Sherlock Holmes” and his power of observation to make a living for herself.  In the midst of her fall from grace, she also helps Scotland Yard uncover a string of high profile deaths that are really connected murders.

What I really liked about this book was how it was traditional in its setting and speech but also progressive in the casting of women for most of the major roles.  I also like the combination of mystery with a little bit of scandal (don’t worry…it’s the 1800s, so it’s tame).  

Although it’s a little slow to start, I believe it sets up the series nicely and slowly reveals new characters as the story progresses.  My one other problem was that in the last minute it threw in pedophilia, which was a little bit of a shock.  The book talks about a multitude of sins, mainly infidelity (hence the “Scarlet Women”), and how those sins affect the character’s lives; however, pedophilia takes it a little out of my pleasure reading comfort zone.  

All in all, it’s an enjoyable read with a good lesson we can all stand to remember:  “Remind yourself that you’re far more likely to undercharge than overcharge, my dear, because you don’t yet understand your own value and you’ve never been taught to demand your full worth.”

Bronx Masquerade

This book was a refreshing read!  In a time where I’m constantly around teenagers, it’s a nice reminder (for anyone really) to understand what it’s like in someone else’s shoes.  

The main premise of the book is one you’ve seen before in one of those “my teacher changed by life” type movies.  The difference here is that the teacher isn’t the hero of the story; the students are.  The book follows the students in Mr. Ward’s high school English class at a Bronx high school.  The kids are mostly black and Hispanic with a few white kids thrown in.  At the start of the book, the kids seem to judge each other based on their limited knowledge about each other, but they don’t really KNOW each other.  When a kid turns in a poem instead of an essay for their Harlem Renaissance unit, their teacher asks if others want to share poems they’ve written.  From this stems Open Mic Fridays.  Each Friday, kids are allowed time to read poems to the class, and through the poems, they learn a little bit more about what’s behind their social “mask” (hence the title, Bronx Masquerade).  

Each chapter and poem is written by a different student in the class.  What I find interesting is Nikki Grimes’s ability to create so many individual characters.  Each poem written has a different feel to it…because in the fictional world they are all written by different people.  Their stories intertwine with each other and makes for a very heart-felt story.  I applaud the author for also staying with the student’s perspectives and not going to the teacher’s point of view.  As I said before, the students are really the heart and soul of the story, and they are the ones that take the open mic idea to a new level.  They convince each other to share, they encourage each other, and in the end, they are more empathetic for it.  For example, Tyrone—a future rapper, in his own mind—realizes that the white boy Steve can really freestyle.  Tanisha—the girl that all the guys like because of her light skin and perfect hair—shows her class that she’s proud of her African roots, just like they are, and that she’s more than just a pretty face.  Raynard—the quiet boy who never speaks in class—shows everyone he isn’t stupid, just dyslexic.  It’s these types of stories that really get me going and get me excited for the future generation, showing them there is more to the world that just their cellphone or their small circle of friends.  

Overall, this was a very easy and enjoyable read, and it was exciting to get to share the story with my kids at school.  My only criticism is that I wanted to know more about what happened to the kids.  But that just means the author is doing something right.

Forty Thieves

Thomas Perry is one of my husband’s favorite authors, so when our library system got hit by ransomware and I couldn’t pick up my holds, he suggested I read Forty Thieves.  I’d read some of his other books before, so I was game for his suggestion.  

This was a pretty solid detective story.  I liked that there were moving pieces in the story that kept shifting until you figured out how they fit together.  The basis of the story is an unsolved mystery.  A man’s body was found in a storm drain during a days-long rain storm in California.  A year later, the police are no closer to finding the murderer, so the man’s company hires Sid and Veronica Abel, married ex-cops who now run their own detective agency.  The Abel’s start their search into the murder only to find themselves targeted by Ed and Nicole Hoyt, a husband and wife assassin team.  Throughout most of the story, you only know they are connected by the initial murder, however, things get complicated when the Hoyt’s contact to their employer dies.  Yes, there are actually thieves in the book too, like the title suggests, however, don’t expect them to show up until later in the book.

My only caveat was the first and last chapters seemed a little fragmented.  There are multiple characters in the first chapter that don’t show up again in the novel (like the professor that suggested the company find the Abels).  The ending ties up most of the loose ends, but I still felt like it was missing some parts, like what about the company’s contact man?  Or the murdered man’s many mistresses?  And how do the thieves…well, I’ll leave this question out for suspense.  

If you’re looking for a good “who done it” with tame language and not too much gore, then this will be a hit.  It’s very easy to read and get into the story, and you can’t help but like the Abels and their banter.

Mark of the Thief Trilogy

I started reading this series because the first book, Mark of the Thief, was one of the SCJBA nominees for the 2017-2018 school year.  This series is like a can of Pringles:  once you start, you just can’t stop.

Overall, it’s very much like Percy Jackson.  For example, this series is set in Ancient Rome, so the characters know and refer to the Roman gods frequently (just like Percy Jackson).  The hero—Nicolas Calva—is seemingly a nobody, but by strength, honor, and determination, he turns into one of the most famous and most powerful people in the city (just like Percy Jackson).  Nic shows a fierce loyalty to his sister, mother, and his friends, and he frequently puts himself in danger to save them (just like Percy Jackson).  Part of Nic’s journey seems impossible—he’s tasked with finding powerful objects from the gods that could involve Rome in a war against each other—and over and over he slips out of impossible situations (just like Percy Jackson).  He even has a friend, Aurelia, who at first despises him but later turns into his love interest (just like Percy Jackson).

Most middle school kids I know will love this series.  By the end of the second book, the whole “I have to make an impossible choice to save myself or my friends” gets a little old, in my opinion.  Personally, I enjoyed Jennifer A. Nielsen’s other trilogy—The False Prince—better than this one.  It has much of the same action but is set in a fictional medieval world.  I guess I just didn’t care for all the tedious ancient Roman names and ceremonies. If your only purpose for reading is lots of quick action with some heroic characters, then this would be a book for you.