Monday, December 10, 2012

Not Tight Enough: Tighter

In college, perhaps my favorite class of all time was a class on haunting in literature. We read a variety of books with ghost/haunting driven plots and then discussed the ways in which the author built the haunted feeling and what haunting typically represents in literature. Maybe that isn't everyone's cup of tea, but I certainly thought it was the bee's knees.

Anyway, in addition to reading the obvious Edgar Allan Poe collection and Jane Eyre, we also took a look at the less familiar Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier and Henry James's The Turn of the Screw. So, when I saw a quote from The Turn of the Screw in Adele Griffin's Tighter, I had very high hopes for the book as a whole. Unfortunately, this book simply can not hold up to it's predecessors.

Now, before we even begin, you can get all the jokes about the books title out of the way. If you missed the twist of words there, I'm happy for you and I commend your maturity. It certainly is not the most blatant of sexual innuendos, but I still got funny looks and a few chuckles from people when I told them what I was reading. Because of this, I thought the selection of this title, on the author's part, was a little unfortunate. Although I see the slight play on Henry James's title (when you turn a screw, it gets tighter), I didn't find the title otherwise  relevant to the story. Griffin might have saved herself from a few immature laughs had she come up with a different title.

Moving on to the story itself, I didn't find it very mature either. This does fall into the Young Adult genre, so I feel I should cut it some slack, but I really wasn't that impressed with the characters or the relationships between them. Besides a few complications caused by the "haunting," this was the same old teen summer romance story I've read before--except without much of a romance either. About halfway through the book they introduce a love interest for the the main character, Jamie, that's honestly just a distraction. But I can't really argue that Griffin should have taken it out because then the whole story would just be Jamie's whining, trying to act cool, and underwhelming ghost encounters.

The mystery of the haunting wasn't even that good because you know immediately who it is and why they're haunting the place, and honestly, it's old news. Like the author simply took Turn of the Screw and rewrote it for a modern audience. Now, I'll admit, there are some merits to revamping an old story. #1, it introduces the old story, Turn of the Screw, to a new, in this case younger, audience--which is perhaps one of only two good things I could say about Griffin's story line (the other I'll mention in just a bit). I just think she could have made a little more of an effort and tied the whole thing a little tighter.

Another problem I had with this is that because it's kind of a  rewrite, in general it read to me more like writing exercise--I was actually assigned a similar one for that class I mentioned above. We had to take one of the stories we'd read and modernize it to show that we grasped the themes of the story and the concept of what made it "haunted". We could change the story drastically, in fact we were encouraged too, we just had to keep in mind the driving principles of the original. Unfortunately, I think Griffin would have gotten an F on that assignment because all she really did was add modern technology and a few modern themes. The story, otherwise, was unoriginal. And though, from experience, I know it's enjoyable and worthwhile to do that type of exercise, for practice writing on your own, I wouldn't personally publish a story like that (though now, considering that Griffin's made money off of hers, I'm thinking maybe I should).

Back to the other merit of this story, though. Although in general I was bored with this story, I guess it wasn't particularly awful. One of the things that actually saved it for me was the ending. And I'm warning you now, SPOILER ALERT: if you're going to read the book, stop reading this post now, because I can't really tell you what I liked about the ending without telling you the ending. So, in the end, you find out that the whole ghost experience was actually Jamie's episodes of undiagnosed mental illness. Now I don't know if I should have been--I may just be a dummy--but I was actually surprised by this turn of events. I think I was just expecting some sort of ghost encounter--though I should have known better, considering many of those Jane Eyre type stories have a logical and/or madness driven explanation for the "haunting". Whether I'm a gullible fool or not, it was my surprise over this explanation that redeemed the story, at least partially, for me. I like when I encounter something unexpected.

Unfortunately, she didn't even pull of the ending without a  hitch. Though the rest of the book was slow, almost too slow, the finale just suddenly falls together--and not in a good way. It seemed completely out of nowhere when the other characters start treating Jamie like she's crazy. No one has seemed to question her sanity before--not even will a confused look or a comment and then all of a sudden they're laughing at her and shunning her. Forget surprised, I was just totally taken off gaurd. Once it all played out I liked it much better and it almost made up for the fact that it just randomly came out of left field. But I thought it was worth mentioning that that part didn't exactly mesh.

Does the ending save Tighter from the box? No. This is one I have no qualms tossing. Yes the ending was unexpected, but the rest of it was completely within the realms of expected. And yes the ending redeemed the story slightly, but Griffin shouldn't have put herself in a position where she needed to be redeemed at all. So my final verdict is that this one goes in the box.

Thursday, November 29, 2012

Give the Gift of Books!

So, I guess you've already noticed that I took a break this week on account of Thanksgiving. You'd think the break would have given me more time to read, but in reality it didn't. Unfortunately I suffer from motion sickness, which I think is one of the biggest curses I could have been dealt as a reader. All the time I spend in the car could be better spent ravenously devouring whichever book I'm reading at the moment. Instead, my eyes are chained to the windows, watching pointless, repetitive scenery and lamenting the many chapters I could have gone through were I not forced, on threat of throwing up or passing out, to watch the road.

Basically, in more direct terms: the four hour car ride each way from Boston to Pleasant Valley, NY to visit my family did not translate into extra reading time. And, once I arrived, I was too enamored with family time to do much other than loudly rehash fond family memories, and stare adoringly at my mother, sister, grandma, my sister's cat, and pretty much anyone else who happened to share even the slightest connection to my family tree.

So anyway, not too much reading time over Thanksgiving break. But, since returning to MA, my love affair with books and the written word in general has reclaimed me with a vengeance. And today, after a trip to Barnes and Noble, and a sudden, fierce and somewhat conceited wave of appreciation for my own vocabulary, I was inspired to write this post about giving the gift of literacy.

Last night when my boyfriend and I were checking out at Barnes and Noble, the woman asked if we'd like to donate a book to the local faction of Cradles to Crayons. We were immediately seized and delighted by the spirit of giving and picked out an old favorite, Curious George, to add to our total and add to the life of a less fortunate child. This morning, when thinking on that happy opportunity  to brighten someone else's life, I was struck by how fortunate I am to have had my love of reading fostered and fed by my wonderful family throughout my life. Every Christmas my grandmother has given me a beautiful new illustrated children's book with a loving note inside. My mother has driven me, on countless occasions, to the bookstore of my choosing to spend my birthday money, and often some of her  own money (to cover the difference) on piles of books. Last year, on hearing of my lack of space for books, they gave me a Nook so that I could carry a library's-worth of books wherever I go. Since then, various family members (mostly my grandma) have continued the generosity by keeping my Nook stocked with gift cards so that I can buy a book whenever the mood strikes me without having to worry about my limited supply of money.

My family isn't wealthy, in fact we often struggle to make ends meet: they couldn't buy me a car for graduation or pay out of pocket for my college education like some crazy-rich parents (who often end up spoiling their kids into entitled jerkdom). What they've always given me, I think, is something much more valuable. On top of their never ending love and support, they've given me literacy. They've given me unendingly useful reading comprehension, writing aptitude, and just an unashamed passion for the written word. Without this, I'd be lost. Without my command of the English language it would be so much harder to get my point across--to share my ideas and feelings in exactly the right way. And without that ability to describe all the facets of life, I almost feel like it looses some of it's sparkle--or at least the sparkle is harder to see.

Coming to this realization, I was also reminded me that some people are far less fortunate. I strongly believe that, when possible, we should all do our part to share whatever knowledge and privilege we have with others. Whether you have technological expertise, an eye for design, scientific genius, money, etc. I believe everyone should make an effort to donate it, not only throughout the holiday season, but also throughout their lives. Though I may not have some of those things, I do have words, and I fully intend to share them. So today I want to take advantage of the public platform afforded by my blog and social media to encourage all you fellow book lovers to give that gift you were given.


You can donate, like I did, at your local Barnes and Noble, or find some other way to make sure that others are sharing the benefits of literacy. It's a gift and a skill that sometimes people overlook. Even I don't always stop and take a moment to think about how important it has been, is, and will be to me throughout my life. Unfortunately, many of the people who do realize its importance on a regular basis realize because they are unable to get enough of it. So donate your old books, donate your time and tutor someone who struggles with reading and writing, or read out loud to whoever you can get your hands on. (Maybe don't chase people down with your favorite paperback or anything, but you know what I mean). I encourage you to also check out the links I have in the sidebar that say donate, or check out this website, Playing By The Book, where someone has taken the time to provide an updated list of reading and literacy charities worldwide. Honestly, do whatever floats your boat. Just take the time to try and instill in others that passion for the reading, writing and words.

Monday, November 19, 2012

Brighter than Twilight: The Host

After being bombarded by thousands of pop-up commercials for the upcoming Twilight movie while online this week, I decided that I can’t escape Stephanie Meyer. And, as they say, “If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.”

Now, for those of you adamantly against the Twilight saga, don’t worry, I’m not reviewing those books now, or ever. There are plenty of people telling you what to think about them without me adding to the mix. I will say, mostly because I can’t help myself, that the books are neither as bad, nor as good as they are made out to be. And I actually must say I admire Meyer’s attempt to revamp the vampire by making them sparkly. I mean, yes, maybe sparkly wasn’t the most prudent choice since it so easily invites ridicule by classic vampire fans, but at least she did what she could to make vampires her own--put her stamp on it so to speak.
Anyway, I’ll move on from Twilight before the decision to discuss it at all comes back to bite me (haha…see what I did there?). The book that I was inspired to talk about this week is actually Stephanie Meyer’s other novel, The Host. Despite the fact that this book escaped as much notice, I would venture to say that, though certainly no masterpiece of literary innovation, it is more deserving of the spotlight than Meyers’ saga.
Now, don’t get your hopes up too high, like I said, this is not something that will blow you away. What makes me an advocate for its readability, though, is the relative originality of the story. Unlike Twilight, which takes a story and creature that has already been thoroughly explored, The Host takes a much less hackneyed look at a “body-snatcher” alien creature. Yes, this has been done before, but, as I always feel myself on the verge of saying, “What hasn’t?” At least this is something you’re much less likely to find in the Young Adult section of your bookstore.
To give you a little background, the main character is actually two characters. Melanie is the actual owner of the body, but her body and mind are inhabited by Wanderer, a parasitic alien form. These aliens call themselves "Souls", and they have invaded earth and taken over, with the goal of creating a better world, without conflict or disease (as they have done many times before). Wanderer, however, finds that her host, Melanie, is not so willing to submit to a takeover that she sees as hostile. Because Melanie won’t go quietly, Wanderer is overwhelmed by emotions that both are and are not her own, mostly for Melanie’s fellow resistor, Jared. As a result, Wanderer finds herself rebelling against her own species as she and Melanie seek out Jared and the resistance.
Like A Certain Slant of Light, the duality of the main character makes for interesting development of relationships. It takes the expression “walk a mile in another’s shoes,” quite literally. What this particular partnership has over what is found in A Certain Slant of Light, is the tangible presence of Melanie—she’s still there and she and Wanderer literally fight for control of her body. Despite their original status as enemies, they eventually become a begrudging team and, later, unlikely friends. Through their friendship, both of their perceptions of “the enemy” change—their relationship exposes the fact that, as is often the case, neither side of this fight is necessarily in the right. Both have flaws in their arguments and weaknesses in the logic they use to try and prove that their side deserves to win the fight for Earth.

It is this theme, running throughout the book, that is one of the books most redeeming qualities. I personally think the message of the book is a good one to share with young readers (and old readers actually). Even those who seem like bad guys, or those who are your enemies, are not necessarily wrong just because they're your enemies--they have their own, often originally good intentioned, motivations. The fact that Wanderer is the main character really highlights this--Meyer's choice to have her, rather than Melanie, narrate this story, was perhaps her best decision of the entire book. Though it is not a new concept to have the "bad guy" tell their story, I think in this case it was particularly potent because you realize that Wanderer, who is a parasite trying to invade a human's body and take over her life--a character you would normally condemn as being evil--is actually sometimes a more compassionate, fair, and human character than some of the human characters she encounters. Meanwhile her perspective, as an alien outsider, simultaneously critiques and exalts in the wonders and flaws of humanity.
Another facet of her character that adds interest to the story is her conflicting emotions. Her in-between state as both alien and human provides the reader with a character who is constantly left wondering which feelings are actually her own--which I think is a relatable trait, even though most of us are not torn between our body and the parasite who has taken it over.Wanderer finds herself falling for the man that Melanie loves, Jared, at first simply from feeling and seeing Melanie’s love for him. When confronted with Jared in person, her feelings intensify. Though she did not actually share in the moments that made Melanie and Jared fall in love, she cannot erase Melanie’s memories, nor can she extract herself from the body and mind that react so strongly to him. Meanwhile Melanie is also conflicted: she finds herself jealous of her own self—or rather the parasite living within her. She both longs to be with Jared again and to keep Wanderer away from him. That confusion they both face--wondering what's right, what feelings are really coming from someone else or from some obligation, and what they really feel--is something I think will especially appeal to young women.
So yes, I liked the alien, body-snatchers and the way they influence character development, but there’s a reason I said this wasn’t some sort of masterpiece. This book falls short because #1 the writing is nothing to brag about. She get's the job done, but I wasn't reading it going "Oh my goodness, I could really learn something from this woman." And, #2, the story underneath is not so new. In general, it’s still predominantly a teen love story. Despite the originality of the setting and the characters you’re still bombarded with the somewhat immature “I’ll love you forever. We were made for each other,” mentality that you find in Twilight, and a lot of other YA novels. Unfortunately, because that’s also the driving factor behind Meyer’s Twilight saga, it can be difficult to ignore the fact that, in terms of creating romantic relationships, she didn’t create a love story that was all that much different. Yes there are different complications for Melanie, Wanderer, Jared, and Ian, but the love square seems a little reminiscent of Meyer’s previous love triangle with one more player added in.

However (and this is a pretty big however), I think the reader has to concede that most Young Adult books these days reuse the same old love story. Because really, if a large component of the story is romantically based, what else are they going to do: it almost always has to go something like "Girl meets boy, they fall in love, they run into some problems, and they either get through or don't get through those problems." And if there's no love story whatsoever, unless the story is otherwise absolutely amazing, the writer is going to lose the interest of the teenage girls who make up the majority of the audience reading YA novels. Could Meyer have written a more unique and compelling love story with the same setting, but stronger characters? Sure. But really, she didn't do too bad. Just the fact that she didn't use vampires, werewolves, or magic this time helped win her case.

So, all in all, this book is actually going to stay on my shelf. If I happen to find a stronger alien-body-snatcher story, it will probably get booted off, but for now it stays simply because, I'll admit it, I liked it. It was a quick, easy read and I don't have anything like it on my shelf. Will I tell you your life won't be complete until you read it? No. In fact, I know that many of you might not like it if you didn't like Twilight--it is the same writer after all, and she wasn't taken over and changed by an alien life form. What I will say is that maybe if you can borrow it from someone or the library, it would be worth giving a chance on a lazy day when you have nothing better to read/do.

Monday, November 12, 2012

A Little Blunt: Sharp Objects


As an avid watcher of television crime shows, I often find myself spurred to find novels that will quench the same thirst for fast paced mystery and the quick, but twisting logic of solving crimes. Unfortunately, though I have a mother who somehow manages to find great, satisfying reads in the genre, I somehow always manage to be disappointed in my own selections. Either I find the detectives, and other characters involved with the crimes whiney, boring and irritating, or I find the crimes themselves too easily solved. Or, even worse, neither the crime, nor the eventual solving of it make any sense because of a lack of decent planning on the part of the author

So, anticipating my inability to select decent crime novels, when I had the urge to buy the bestselling Gone Girl, by Gillian Flynn, I stopped myself. Better, I thought, to save money by buying one of her older (cheaper) novels (Sharp Objects) first to make sure that I actually liked her writing. And, like most of the novels of this kind that I’ve read, I found myself on the fence about this one.

To start off with, though, I’ll tell you what I liked about the book, because it definitely wasn’t an overdone cop-mystery-thriller, and her main character was not whiny, boring, or irritating. In general, there was a lot that Flynn accomplished in terms of character depiction. I especially appreciated her treatment of the small town mentality and its detrimental effects on those who find themselves ensnared by it. And although this book didn’t always have me on the edge of my seat, like I wanted it to, it did have its own different allure pulling me in. The mystery was more in the main character, Camille’s, development and the effects of the killings on her and on the town where they took place (and where she grew up).

I think the reader should be aware before they read this though, that it’s not really a “chase-down-the-killer” type book. If you’re expecting to be hunting down a killer while simultaneously finding yourself running from them and being scared and shocked towards the end, this will probably disappoint you. Really I think that’s the main reason it disappointed me: I came in with the wrong expectations, and really Flynn shouldn’t be faulted for that. If you do choose to read this book, you’ll have to appreciate it more for the web of characters Flynn has created and the revealing of secrets and twistedness within those characters, rather than the unearthing and capturing of some terrible bad guy.

I will say, what I liked a great deal about this particular structure, is the look it gave you of Camille’s and her sister, Amma’s, contrasting personalities. Because less time is devoted to crime solving and so much time is spent hashing out the past and present events of Camille’s life, you get to see how Camille and Amma’s upbringing, by the same woman, Adora, yielded such similar, and different girls. They both missed out on genuine caring in their lives, but their ways of dealing with it are, at times, vastly different, but on a deeper level, they are always surprisingly alike.

In terms of execution, though, the main problem I think I had with Sharp Objects is that you can feel that it’s a first novel by Flynn. There was definitely a level of originality and planning on her part, but there was also that somewhat unformed feeling you get from reading something that maybe could have done with a little more work, or a second glance to make sure everything was cohesive. Unfortunately, because this was such a book about characters and their relationships and connections, there wasn’t that layer of quick action to distract you from any missteps that would have otherwise been overlooked in the frantic turning of pages.

The main character, Camille, certainly was not boring, but there were times where certain parts of her personality didn’t quite seem to fit—as though Flynn had a bunch of ideas about personality quirks Camille should have, but she may have been too attached to some of them to do away with the ones that didn’t work so well.

For example, Camille’s past habit of cutting, which now leaves her body marred by words that hum, burn, and sing to her in times of stress, though it definitely was a character flaw I haven’t seen before and it was certainly interesting, I think it could have been better incorporated in the rest of her personality. Certainly Flynn takes the time to keep reminding the reader that Camille’s scars make an impact on her. But, what could have done with more fleshing out, I think, might have been the briefly mentioned motivation behind those scars—the compulsion to write everything down. I think Flynn started to do this earlier on in the book, with Camille absent-mindedly writing words on her skin in pen, but as the story moved on, I almost feel Flynn forgot to follow through on that. And, although the reader can figure out what spurred Camille's drinking, sexual attention seeking, and other destructive behavior, I was left wondering where this fear of forgetting things came from.

Which brings me to my next point: the lack of follow through in general—more specifically, the book just kind of drops off at the end. I don’t want to give away the ultimate culprits of the story, nor the twist at the end, but I will say, that the twist was barely even given its own chapter. We spend the whole story building up, trying to figure out who the killer is, when really we already know, deep down, just like Camille does. But the actual catching of the killer is mentioned almost as an afterthought. Flynn doesn’t give the reader enough time, nor enough reason to be afraid of the killer. It’s almost anticlimactic how quickly it’s over, despite the fact (or maybe because of the fact) that Flynn spends so long constructing Camille’s own realization of who the killer is. It’s almost as if Flynn either should have made the whole ending quick, rather than have Camille’s slow foreboding about the identity of the killer, or there should have been more time given to the solving of the case and the arrests. The way it stands, the culprits almost felt like an afterthought—even though the horror of who they are and what they’ve done should have stood out more. And it’s described so quick and to the point that it didn’t fit in with the rest of Flynn’s idiosyncratic descriptions of things and events. Besides a mention of the goddess Artemis, that section of the book had almost the quick, purely functional writing of a report or a resume.

So, in the end, I’m still going to have to buy Gone Girl and her other book Dark Places, because I definitely felt like Gillian Flynn’s writing had real potential in Sharp Objects. I have the feeling she probably just gets better, which is nice to see in a writer because, as we discussed in one of my writing classes, it is often the case that a writer’s first book is their best, and the rest only disappoint (should I bring up The Hunger Games again?). So, although Sharp Objects will not make it onto my shelf, you’ll have to stay tuned for my future readings of Gillian Flynn’s other works.

Sunday, November 4, 2012

A Certain Something Different: A Certain Slant of Light

So, to launch my return to B or B (finally) I'll clue you guys in on a book that's been sitting on my shelf for ages that I hadn't thought to pick up until now: Laura Whitcomb's A Certain Slant of Light.

Ever since I saw my sister reading it, there was something about this book that made me want to read it. It could be the eerie cover, or the fact that it deals with one of my absolute favorite subjects, ghosts. Who knows. In any case, it's not one of those books that jumps right out at you--you won't see it showing off on a display in a bookstore or plastered on ads in your magazine. It's just one of those books you pick up at the bookstore, among many others, and it unobtrusively sits on your shelf, waiting. Over time it just sort of quietly coaxes to read it.

So read it I did, and it reads in much the same way as it got you to read it in the first place. Though I wasn't completely blown away, it was definitely an interesting and thought-provoking read. While dealing with some of the usual high school love story, and coming-of-age themes, it also surprises you with some less common details, questioning both the notion of what makes a proper family, and the nature of god, the afterlife, and organized religion. Plus, there's also the fact that the main character, Helen, is actually a centuries old ghost, who haunts a high school English teacher and falls for a boy in one if his classes.

The protaganist, Helen, one of the Light (a ghost--loved that name for them too, by the way), has been attaching herself to readers and writers of the ages. I'll take a moment right here to commend Whitcomb her excellent grasp of the lives and personalities of various famous writers and readers throughout the ages. She describes them affectionately and in detail, without even having to mention names (though occassionally I wished she would mention names, as my grasp of the lives of famous historical writers is much looser).Anyway, the reader meets up with Helen while she haunts a high school English teacher, Mr. Brown, who also harbors a passion for writing.

While haunting his class, Helen finds, quite suddenly and disconcertingly, that a member of the Quick (the living) can see her. Upon further exploration she finds that the living boy who can see her is actually one of the Light, James, who has taken over the body of one of the Quick (a boy named Billy). I don't want to give too much away here, but Helen and James end up falling in love, spurring Helen to take over a body of her own (a girl by the name of Jenny) so that they can be together.

In my opinion, this is where it get's interesting. Though Helen and James are technically the main characters, I would say that they and their interactions are slightly less original--though there is a certain level of complexity brought about by the fact that they're ghosts living in other people's bodys. James sort of struck me as your typical, polite, calm, knight in shining armor, with hardly any flaws to speak of. He almost exists simply to spur on Helen's developement. Helen is a little more interesting because of the constantly mingled fear and strength in her personality. She is portrayed outwardly as a timid person but on the inside she's really quite passionate.While we get glimpses of this passion mainly through her thoughts, the rest of the world only sees this in bursts, when her emotions boils over, which, I thought, rang true not only for a woman from another decade, but also for the shy, modern young woman she, for a time, pretends to be.

One of the main problems I had with Helen and James, though, was their relationship with each other. Though the fact that their souls are literally bare sort of makes up for it, it is a little implausible how quickly and deeply they fall in love. Though it seems as though Whitcomb means for this to be true love, it really struck me as more like love of convenience--James is the first other Light that Helen has seen since her death. It's not like she had a lot of options in the eligible bachelor department, yet she acts like she would have chosen him out of a million others. Needless to say I was a little underwhelmed by their whirlwind romance--I think, after centuries, Helen is so relieved to no longer be alone that she would have fallen for almost anyone. She just got lucky that she and James are so compatible. I think it might have been made for stronger character development if Whitcomb had taken a moment to acknowledge the fact that their relationship is flawed, so that it didn't seem to happen only by accident.

I'd say a relationship that was far more interesting was actually the one between Helen and her Mr. Brown, as she often refers to him. Her status as a spirit that he cannot see nor hear sets them up for a relationship that could not be explored in the real world, and I think Whitcomb does an excellent job with it. Helen's feelings for Mr. Brown are a strange combination of motherly protectiveness and the ardent, almost reverential affection and jealousy of a lover. Needless to say it was a very interesting relationship to follow, especially because it reminded the reader of Helen's duality--yes she is placed in a setting with adolescents, and even takes on the life of an adolescent for a while herself, but she is actually a grown woman. 

Getting back to the other characters though,  I have to say the ones who really blew me away were the characters who were absent--Billy and Jenny. You don't actually get to meet them, really, until the very end, but the way Whitcomb introduces them to you is so different and intriguing that I couldn't help but find myself more curious about their lives than the past and present lives of Helen and James. Since they're not actually around, Billy and Jenny can't tell you what they enjoy or what their lives have been like. You only learn about them in bits and peices through the interactions of their bodies (with Helen and James inside, and sometimes baffled) with the people they knew and loved. This introduction makes their lives all the more mysterious--though I have to say that, in general, they were already interesting characters to begin with. Whitcomb didn't slack and write unoriginal characters just because she had a more original way of introducing them. Billy, though he picks up on some of the bad-kid with a troubled past generalizations that can be found in many young adult books, still has an interesting enough home life to make him stand out. And, I would venture to say that Jenny is actually one of the more interesting female characters I've read in a while, despite the fact that I know little about her.

That was perhaps the only downfall of Whitcomb's choice to have such a complex set-up. Though she tells the story very well--giving you just enough about each of her character's lives so that you come to know them all--unfortunately, with so many characters, I sometimes felt a little like I was missing on the real story. Plus, there were somethings left relatively unexplained, like the spirit world and the outcome of both Billy's trial and the allegations brought against Mr. Brown.

Finally, I feel I have to touch on the way Whitcomb deals with family structure and religion in this book. Whether you usually seek out or avoid books with opinions on religion, I think this book would be a good read for you. Helen's view of religion, I think, is a good one to read about because though she seems to feel passionately about god, and clearly she has an inside view into the afterlife, she doesn't claim to know God's plan, nor does she force her views on others. Perhaps her best moments are the ones in which she clashes with Jenny's family and members of her congregation over their selfish and judgmental assumptions about the afterlife and about God.

I think these views went hand in hand with the books look at family. Jenny's family, from the outside, seems far superior to Billy's home life. But the book gives the reader a reality check, reminding us that just because something looks better on the outside doesn't mean there aren't problems on the inside. Though Billy and his brother are not your typical family, and they definitely face some difficulties, you can see, or at least James can see even if Billy couldn't, that there is a genuine caring and a tough love level of support between the brothers. Meanwhile Jenny, who's parents are upstanding members of their community, is being stifled by her parents, and soon she finds her parents are even stifling each other. And even then, Whitcomb surprises the reader, and reminds us that even "bad guys," like Jenny's overbearing mother, sometimes face their own crises and have to be examined again in a completely different light.

So, overall, though I have to be very selective about the books on my shelf (and I'll probably box this one--only the best of the best YA books make it onto mine), I'd have to say this is a book to consider having on your shelf.

Tuesday, October 30, 2012

I'm Back!

Well ladies and gentleman, let me just apologize profusely, once again, for my extended absence. The details are quite boring but it basically boils down to a few birthday celebrations, a wildly erratic work schedule, and a yucky lingering cold. Hopefully, though, this will be the end of my unexplained absences from the blog, as I've just secured a new job and have much more free time for reading.

One thing that will be changing now that I'm back though is the posting schedule. I actually have normal hours now (yay!) and I have the weekends off so you guys should expect regular postings on Sundays or Mondays, as well as maybe a few bonus posts during the week if I blow through more books than usual.

Thank you guys once again for sticking through this with me. I know how frustrating it must be to expect postings and be repeatedly disappointed, and I apologize. From now on I should actually be able to keep up with my reading and keep you guys posted.

All the best,
Kelly

Thursday, September 13, 2012

Make Sense of Animals: Animals Make Us Human


So my review this week is for all you animal lovers out there. Well, I guess you don’t actually have to love animals to read this book, but you should probably be at least mildly curious. After all, Temple Grandin’s (and Catherine Johnson’s) Animals Make Us Human is all about, what else, animals.

Anyway, let’s touch on some of the Pros and Cons of this book.  Pro: it gives you a great look into the behavior of domesticated animals—the ones we’re more likely to interact with on a daily basis. I mean honestly, for the average person, knowledge of giraffe behavior probably isn’t as useful as knowledge of dog behavior since it’s pretty unlikely you’re going to run into a giraffe just strolling down the street. That being said, this isn’t really a book that will teach you how to train your dog—though I personally think it’s great supplementary reading when you’re training your pets because it explores the motivations for why animals respond to certain types of training.

I will let you know up front though, this isn’t technically a “just for pleasure” read. If you have no use for more knowledge about animals, then you might want to skip this book (though, as a pretty serious animal nerd, I personally feel you’d be missing out).  If you do need to learn about animal behavior, for a class for example, this is probably a good book to check out, though you may have to supplement it with other, more extensive studies if you need to know more about a particular species. The people this book is perfect for are the people like me who, as I’ve mentioned before, just have a thirst for more knowledge about the world. It’s just detailed enough so you’ll know more than the average guy off the street, but not so much that you have to have a Ph. D. in animal science (like Temple Grandin does) just to understand it. I learned a whole bunch about animal learning and behavior that I now like to share with my friends, family and pretty much anyone else who will listen or pretend to listen (and all of whom probably couldn’t care less).

So, let’s just assume you’re either sort of like me, or you have a vested interest in animals. Why is this book for you? Well, for starters, the book is organized really well. Since Grandin and Johnson are dealing with a variety of domesticated animals in this book, they appropriately split it up into subcategories. While reading, you start with dogs, go on to cats, then horses, cows, pigs, poultry, wildlife, and zoos. This makes it a lot more manageable than some other books on the same subject because you can read about one species at a time rather than getting overwhelmed by a jumble of general animal behavior information. Plus, if you only want to learn about one of those categories and don't really have time to go fishing through the whole book, it's really easy to find and read just the section you're looking for.

Then, to make the book an even more manageable read, each section is also split into smaller sections so that you’re not just reading a huge blob of text. You get to look at each species and their behavior on a few different levels. And at no point did I really feel like I was drowning in excessive animal science jargon because another huge plus for this book is the writing in general--Grandin and Johnson take concepts that are quite difficult and talk about them in a way that is really easy to understand. 

Perhaps my favorite part about this book though, is that once you’re done you feel so much better able to understand animal behavior. Now I totally know what my cats are thinking!…yeah but on a less crazy-cat-lady note, it is nice to have a general idea of why cats, dogs, horses, cows, pigs poultry, wildlife, and zoo animals do what they do. Because you may think you're not really interested in what a pig has to say, but let me tell you, you'll find yourself intrigued anyway. I picked up the book mostly to learn about dogs and cats because I intend to own both throughout my life. A great part of the book for me was that it made me want to know more even just about animals I probably won't have in my lifetime. The knowledge of how one species communicates kind of informs our understanding of how the other species do. It reveals our expectations for how we think animals should communicate, and then shows us why we're wrong to simply assume that cats should behave like dogs, or pigs like poultry--they're each a whole separate species with different biological and instinctual motivations. And as far as practical applications go, knowing all this allows you to tailor your behavior so as to make both your own pets, and other animals more comfortable around you (and, I'd say, it also makes you more comfortable around them).

So basically, if you want to know what your pets are thinking (well, not really, but sort of) then this is definitely a book you’ll want on your shelf.

Friday, September 7, 2012

Indulge Your Inner Rêveur: The Night Circus


Yes, I realize I’ve been MIA the past two weeks, and I apologize profusely. I was dealing with some dental and medical issues that rather distracted me from reading and writing in general, and I was therefore temporarily poorly adapted for a blog that’s main premise is both of those things. I realize that many of you may have stopped following the blog in frustration, but I hope that you will, as I have, return with renewed vigor.

So, to start off my valiant return, we’re going to take a look at Erin Morgenstern’s The Night Circus. I could try to come up with a cute and amusing pun about how this book is appropriate for a valiant return because of its reoccurring appearance in various towns and it’s rebirth at the end, or something of the sort, but let’s not just throw ourselves back into things—it’s been a while, I’d better get warmed doing anything truly strenuous.

So, about The Night Circus: My overall impression of this book is that it’s definitely worth reading. Morgenstern starts off on my good side simply because of the fact that, although her book is technically about magic, she pulls a fast one on us by focusing on magicians rather than witches, wizards, faeries, or any of those other whimsical creatures who are typically enjoyable, but pop up way too often to be entirely original. Magicians you don’t come across too often and, as a fan of the movie The Prestige, I was immediately intrigued (though a little worried that the book would be too similar to that movie’s plot—I mean c’mon, magicians locked in a competition of skill? Sounds a little familiar). Morgenstern does not disappoint though—she builds a wonderful and unique circus, the appropriately named Le Cirque des Rêves (The Circus of Dreams), where two magicians are bound to compete, pitting their different magical styles against one another in an archaic, but hauntingly beautiful struggle.

Morgenstern’s writing is solid. The style of it helps perpetuate the mystery of the circus that she’s describing. She aptly chooses a third person narrator who is only partially omniscient so as not to give away too much. Morgenstern also employs the little used second person narrator in certain sections describing the circus, using the pronoun “you” to effectively pull you, the reader, into the story as though you are also a spectator at Le Cirque des Rêves. Meanwhile, she does a phenomenal job in general of relating the various scenes within the circus with enough detail to provide a framework of the circus’s appearance while still leaving room for the reader’s imagination to embellish. 

Thematically, the treatment of eternity and eternal life in this book is interesting and well done. The characters are trapped in this circus by the magic that makes it so mysterious and wonderful. Instead of reveling in their eternal youth, however, the lack of aging and changing is seen more as stagnation. Being stuck forever at one age, in one mindset, and not knowing why or how nearly drives a few of the characters mad. I think just throwing that idea in there—the exhausting nature of forever—strengthened the depiction of the circus as a whole. It showed the reader that even if you’re part of something amazing, and with amazing people, you still have to move on eventually—it is a curse to not be allowed to grow and change.

There are only two faults with this story that, I thought, kept it from being truly great. One is the pace. Morgenstern has so many characters and so much time to work with in her story that I think she got a little carried away. She jumps from character to character, time to time, in such a way that it can be hard to figure out when in the course of the plot what you’re reading takes place. The time jumps do accomplish some foreshadowing of certain events, but with a few characters who can tell the future, I’m not sure it was entirely necessary for accomplishing that. What I think she was mainly trying to impress upon the reader was the timelessness of the circus—that time itself does not function the same way surrounding the circus. But I think she forgets that we, as readers in this day and age, are usually pretty preoccupied with time. So removing it and jumbling it up causes confusion. The pace of the book is jarring and somewhat irregular—like a person skipping—it makes a sudden jump in time and then pauses there momentarily before suddenly moving on. And even though you’re making jumps in time, this pace actually makes reading the book a little slow, because you get caught up so often in trying to figure out when you are.

The other aspect of this book that could have been better is the characters. Morgenstern creates so many characters who catch your attention right off the bat—especially, in my opinion, Bailey, Chandresh, Tsukiko, and Freidrich. But unfortunately she doesn’t follow through and develop any of the characters enough. Because there are so many characters there wasn’t time to develop them all and Morgenstern didn’t sit down, recognize that, and pick the ones she could develop. Plus the circus itself is so much of a character that it almost took the spotlight away from the people. In particular the main characters, the magicians, Marco and Celia, were the most disappointing. There is so much more Morgenstern could have done with Marco and Celia. At the beginning of the book I even thought she might make them quite interesting. For example—as a child, Celia exhibits issues with anger and control. Throw in an overbearing and abusive father, and you’d have a character with anger issues who might sometimes snap and do very scary (and potentially much more interesting) things with her magic. Instead, Morgenstern keeps Celia as this character who is, in general, in control and passive, with only small outbursts and bitter remarks to indicate that she has any negative emotions whatsoever. 

Meanwhile, Marco really intrigued me because he is not really the nicest, most likeable guy (which, ironically, makes him a more original and likeable character). He is completely isolated from other people for pretty much all of his young life—which would leave him socially crippled and probably lacking in empathy. Fortunately, Morgenstern touches on that lack of empathy in the way Marco treats Isobel. The woman is completely infatuated with him and for a time, when it’s convenient for him, he indulges her. But we begin to see how badly he treats her—how little concern he has for her at all, in fact. Instead of cutting her loose, in an act that would be painful, but ultimately merciful, he lets her hang around doing his bidding until pretty much the last second when out of the blue he tells her he’s in love with someone else. This is the Marco I would have liked to see more of—a character with his upbringing, who would treat a woman like that, would also exhibit other, more severely self-centered behavior. I feel Morgenstern copped out a little by eventually showing him in a more positive light at the end because of his love for Celia.

Finally, Poppet and Widget are perhaps the most frustrating characters because they feel so one dimensional. At least Bailey has some hopes and dreams and concerns and confusion—though he would probably be even more interesting if we could see him in the future. Poppet and Widget, his friends from the circus, feel more like they came out of a children’s book than something young adult. They really only seem to serve as Bailey’s guides rather than their own characters, despite their momentary stand-alone status in other parts of the story. They are, however, partially redeemed by what they do bring to the table: the promise of a new generation of the circus. Though it might have been more interesting to learn a little more about Bailey, Poppet, and Widget, I can recognize that they are young and were not the focus of this story—they are simply the hint of the future, which makes their lack of growth almost excusable.

Don’t let my negativity towards the end fool you though, this really was an interesting book. Definitely worth reading, especially if you’re looking for something topically different. Plus, although she might have gotten a little carried away with a plethora of characters and some issues with timing, I commend Morgenstern for trying to share with the reader all aspects of the circus. She’s certainly not a lazy writer—she shows Le Cirque des Rêves not from only one perspective but many—touching on the experience of not only those behind the scenes of the circus, but also the general circus goers, the dedicated fans (the rêveurs), and the next generation. So, I think, because of my limited shelf space I will have to put this book in the box just to make room for others that might be more impressive, but it’s a good read and you may find it deserves a space on your shelf.

Thursday, August 16, 2012

Inter-esting: Intertwined

Okay boys and girls, this week I'm actually in California on a nice (and MUCH needed vacation). So This post might be a little short. I was hoping to finish the book I've been reading while I was at the airport, but I got distracted by a few Stephen King short stories in Full dark, no stars (I guess the length was just more appopriate for a busy day of traveling). Unfortunately, I haven't read much else by Stephen King yet so I'm not going to review that book yet because I want to read more of him for reference first.

So instead, this week I'm going to review a book that gives me mixed feelings (don't they all?)--which I guess is appropriate since the main character is basically a guy with a magical version of multiple personality disorder. The book, Intertwined, is a fairly recent young adult title from an author who's been around a while: Gena Showalter. She's usually known for her romance novels, and actually, if you're looking for some great fantasy romance novels you should definitely check her out. If you think Fifty Shades of Grey dealt with some sexual deviancy issues you'll wanna try out her Lords of the Underworld series--definitely an interesting take on Pandora mythology.

Anyway, I guess she decided to expand her fan base, and what we got out of that was Intertwined. Most of the downfalls of this book have to do with the fact that it's a Popular Young Adult book. Basically the fact that it's Young Adult restricts the difficulty of the reading level. Showalter's writing always flows well and the dialogue, though sometimes a little too rapid-fire witty to be completely beleivable, is nice to read. That being said, Showalter has never been a writer I would describe as intellectual--she's a romance novel writer, she's not exactly a writing pioneer. I personally don't really fault her for that, considering that reading what she writes is enjoyable. Just keep in mind that if you're looking for Literature this isn't the place you'll find it.

As for the story, this is definitely something I haven't seen too often, especially in Young Adult fiction. The main character, Aden Stone, is inhabited (possessed, haunted, whatever you want to call it) by three ghosts--and this isn't exactly Casper-the-friendly-ghost we're talking about. These ghosts make his life harder not only because of their constant chatter in is head, but also because of the magical powers they had in their previous lives that they've now transferred to him. It's a lot harder to make friends in high school when you're talking to voices no one else can hear and waking the dead any time you walk by a graveyard. This story is refreshing because even though the framework of the story is familiar, the problems Aden faces aren't the same hackneyed fantasy issues you find all the time in Young Adult fiction. But, again, it's still Young Adult, so you'll still run into some cliches common for the genre. Aden deals with problems at home, problems at school, and problems with girls--things you really can't avoid at the age of sixteen I guess.

So seems pretty straightforward, right? Writing: average. Story: above average. So where are those mixed feelings I was talking about earlier? My conflict when reviewing this book lies mainly in Showalter's decision to add other fantasy creatures. I liked reading about Aden's affliction. You don't often come across ghost driven plots in fantasy fiction. You don't usually even see many zombies. Vampires and werewolves, especially more recently, are the dominant force--they're just easier to romanticize and they're so well known that a writer doesn't usually have to set up their own fantasy rule system, which can be time consuming when you build it from scratch. Vampires and Werewolves are the easy way out. So to me it felt like Showalter didn't stick to her guns. Instead of following through with the ghost issues and strengthening that part of the plot enough to stand up on it's own, she ends up throwing vampires, werewolves, and witches into the plot. Presumably she did this to spice it up, but I personally found the addition a bland.

So, I definitely want to read the following books in the series to see where it goes, but I don't think this is a series I'd read over and over for the rest of my life. I think I'll eventually box this book. But, because of Showalter's stockpile brownie points with me from her romance novels, because I enjoy her writing style, and because the storyline is, for the most part, something pretty new, for now it has a place on my shelf.

Tuesday, August 14, 2012

Once a Week

Hey guys,

I know I've been complaining about it the past couple posts, but I'm just going to explain and set the record straight. I've unfortunately been so busy with my real job that I don't have time to read a book a week anymore--hence the last minute posts about books I read years ago. So, in an effort to save you guys from my continued apologies and rambling about books that really aren't worth rambling about, I've decided to only post once a week for a while.

I know, it's very sad, (or at least I think it is. Box or Bookshelf is way more fun than work). But hopefully we'll be back to twice a week again soon--whether I find a new job and more time to read, or maybe I'll recruit another poster. Plus, when I do have time and books worth talking about I will post bonus posts on Monday or Tuesday just to tide you guys over.

Anyway I'm sorry to disappoint you guys, but thank you for sticking with me through this book drought. Hopefully I will be drenched in reading again soon!

Kelly

Thursday, August 9, 2012

Not Exactly an Ivy League Read: Hacking Harvard

Well, I won't bore you guys with more apologies about being late with my post, nor will I remind you of my lack of review-worthy reading material...oh wait, I guess I kinda just did. Anyway, because I don't have much else to review at this point, I'm going to have to talk about a book today that really isn't much to talk about: Robin Wasserman's Hacking Harvard.

Now, don't get me wrong, this book is in no way awful. The writing is okay, the characters are okay, the dialogue is okay, the storyline is okay. Basically this book can be summed up by the word "okay." This isn't even close to the worst book I've ever read--in fact it’s moderately amusing--it just isn't all that memorable. For a book with characters of superior intelligence, this book was really nothing more than average. It was underwhelming--it hardly made a splash in my reading pool (see what I did there? snuck a summery metaphor in there for your guys to help beat the heat).

So what can you expect from this book if not a cannonball of a read? Well you can expect an interesting, if underdeveloped commentary on the American college admissions system. If you can't tell from the title, Wasserman's characters, Eric, Max, Schwarz, and Alexandra hack the Harvard admissions system as part of a bet to get an underachieving student into Harvard. In doing this, they learn not only about the sometimes unfair system, but also they learn not to underestimate others, and they find out more about themselves and what they want from their higher education and their lives.

Unlike Fifty Shades of Grey, which I’ve mentioned before as being neglectful of the all-encompassing nature of higher education, this book shows characters who understand the gravity of it. In fact, they are so concerned with getting into the right schools that they sometimes forget the point—which I think is a valid concern in the real world. It’s not uncommon for students today to be under so much pressure to do well that they may forget that their education is something they should be doing for themselves, not for society and everyone else.

Wasserman also does a pretty good job depicting the idealistic concerns of intelligent young adults on the verge between high school and college. The young men in this book, while sometimes trying to prove a point are also distracted by things that would distract teenage boys--like money, girls, and dares. And the romantic relationship built in this book is also pretty refreshing because it was more true to a young adult relationship. It wasn’t a twilight-esque obsession, it was more a slowly developed friendship that later becomes something more.

This is an amusing read, ideal for a summer read particularly for young adult readers—especially guys. I also liked that Wasserman has a group of male friends as the main characters (although the narrator is actually a female). As of right now, most Young Adult books have female leads so this is actually a good choice if you're looking to read about a bunch of boys.

 Despite its few merits, I won’t keep you guys any longer talking about a book that’s only “okay.” While this book isn't the worst, just keep in mind if you decide to read it that it's also not the best. It sits firmly in the Young Adult genre and I wouldn't really recommend it for older readers unless they're really looking for a quick, rather amusing book to pass a little time. Otherwise, this one get's the box.

Monday, August 6, 2012

A Work of Art: The Art of Racing in the Rain

Well, since my reading material still sucks right now, I’m going to go back into my repertoire again and let you guys know about an old favorite of mine: Garth Stein’s The Art of Racing in the Rain. And I guess this book isn’t really that old—it only came out in 2008. But it’s just one of those books that will feel like an old friend and old favorite once you’ve read it. And I’m telling you, no lie, your life won’t be complete until you go out, buy it, and read it.

Well, maybe that’s an exaggeration—I can see where everyone might not like this book. It’s about a dog. Well actually, it’s narrated by a dog (that one got your attention didn’t it?), and it’s about race car driving, loss, the merits of daytime TV, following your dreams, and life. So actually, no, I can’t see why anyone would dislike this book. If you hate a book told by a wise and amusing dog, the epitome of man’s best friend, then maybe you’re just kind of a jerk. But I’ll try to support my assertions first by telling you why this book is awesome, and then I guess you can just decide for yourselves.
For starters, it’s really refreshing to read a book from the point of view of a dog, especially this dog, Enzo. Maybe that’s just because too many of the books I read are narrated by whiny teenage girls (yeah…I told you my reading material isn’t doing so good right now), but it was really nice to come across something new. I mean, I don’t know if you guys read books told by dogs all the time, but for me it was pretty original. On top of that, it gives you a different perspective as a reader. To read about the hopes, concerns, and joys of a dog as opposed to those of a human is enlightening. It takes your mind off the things that bother you every day; it surprises you and makes you laugh thinking about what your pets do when you’re not around; and it helps you realize that sometimes the things we’re taught are important may not be as worth worrying about in the grand scheme of things.
Plus Stein does a great job getting into Enzo’s head—yes we may never know what dogs are actually thinking, and yes the way it’s told is often informed by the way we, as humans, think, but I commend Steins effort—I think his choosing to narrate this story through a dogs eyes was a mostly successful endeavor. The fact that Enzo narrates this book makes the somewhat cliché messages he shares more acceptable and believable. If a human narrator tried to share this kind of wisdom I think many readers would find it too contrived—we’re always just waiting for and expecting other members of the human race, even fictional ones, to be selfish idiots. We even enjoy that in fiction because it makes us feel less badly about our own episodes as selfish idiots. But we expect our pets, almost like children, to see things as they are, uninhibited by societal pressure. Enzo let’s Stein share things without causing readers dismiss his wisdom as purely fictional, fable-induced moral guidance.

And in case you were thinking that the dog is all this book has got going for it, let me set you straight: Stein definitely didn’t skimp on the rest of the book either. I mean, you’d think writing a book about a dog would be enough—and for people obsessed with animals like me, it probably would in most cases. But Stein doesn’t leave Enzo to carry the whole weight of this book by himself. He’s crafted genuinely interesting, believable, and relatable human characters as well. And though it may have been stuff he knows from his own life experience, he definitely didn’t leave out researched details. Even if you’re not interested in race car driving, Buddhism, or anything else Enzo learned about by watching daytime TV, the tidbits of information in this story really bring it home. They’re the type of things we all pick up watching TV, watching people, and from being around the people we love. And they’re told in a way that reminds us that our own details and tidbits are important, even though sometimes we don’t remember that.
And before I go, I better warn you, this book will make you cry. In a good way, but I guarantee even the most hardened college rugby player, determined not to let his teammates see any sign of weakness, would tear up reading this book. Steins writing is not super, impressively advanced, not is it intentionally difficult. It’s the type of writing you won’t have to kill yourself reading, but you also won’t kill your brain-cells reading. And it’s not the some edgy, super modern, depressing story. It’s a feel good read, playing on all your emotions but ultimately leaving you with a happy-ending-feeling. And in this case that’s a good thing. I don’t want to go too far, but I almost want to say it’s one of those books that restore your faith in humanity.

So if you don’t want to read an uplifting book about a faithful canine friend, you can skip The Art of Racing in the Rain. If you do, you can join me and put this book on your shelf.

Thursday, August 2, 2012

Skip the Book, Watch the Movie: The Vampire Diaries (series)

Hi there readers. Let me first apologize for my lack of post on Monday and my lateness in posting today. Among other things, I've been a little underwhelmed by my reading material as of late and I was trying to avoid reviewing books that aren't really worth reviewing. A book review blog, after all, should be saving you guys time by letting you know which books are worth reading--it shouldn't waste even more time than reading books that aren't.

Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on how you look at it), the book I'm reading right now (which is worth reading and reviewing) is taking me rather long to read and I can't review it just yet. So, to avoid leaving you guys without a post again today I'm going to do a short review a series of books (which I read quite a while back) before their subject matter completely leaves the forefront of young adult fiction: L.J. Smith's The Vampire Diaries.

If that title sounds familiar to you it may be because you've heard of the TV series of the same name, which is (VERY) loosely based on the books. And there's a good reason why the TV show has made out better than the books themselves. Honestly, the books just aren't that memorable. The writing is on the lower side of average (and we're talking about the lower side of average for a Young Adult book). The story is relatively interesting but a little overdone--seriously, how many times can you read about teenage girls falling for perpetually teenage vampires who are tortured but ultimately honorable and good. I mean I'm the first person to admit I get sucked in by books that are even vaguely supernatural, but some authors need to work a little harder. You can't simply regurgitate a Hodge-podge of every vampire novel you've ever read--I'd rather read something completely out there than something I've already read a hundred times over. However you feel about Stephanie Meyer's books and the changes she made to vampire myth, you have to admit that at least sparkling vampires was something new.

As for The Vampire Diaries, though some of the plot twists are pretty interesting, the overall story is same-old-same-old. I did enjoy the conflict created by the fact that Elena, the main character, is torn between two brothers (Stefan and Damon), who were also both in love with a woman who looked just like Elena (Katherine), centuries before. And then, to make matters worse, Katherine comes back, pretends to be Elena, tugs at Stefan and Damon's heartstrings, and attempts exact her revenge (talk about complicated!). But, overall the characters are alternately unoriginal and inconsistent--the changes in their personalities are less like character development and more likely the result of an author not completely sure of who she wanted her characters to be.

So, and I'm going to shock you guys again like I did with the Hunger Games, my ultimate verdict is that you should box the book and just watch the TV series instead. If you're at all interested in the subject matter, its a pretty great show. I confess it's one of my guilty pleasure TV shows: unrealistically beautiful cast, long, complex storyline that borders on Soap Opera, ridiculous love-polygons, what more could you want? I mean it's really not one of those shows you can watch to fake your way through explaining the book--basically the only thing the book and TV series have in common are character's names. But, in this case, that's a good thing. The show's characters are more interesting, the plot is more interesting, there's A LOT more going on, and you've got some hotties to look at. It's an all around win. So, like the title says, this is one of those rare times when I'll take TV over a book.

(On a side note, I also did not particularly enjoy The Secret Circle, L.J. Smith's other series, about witches. Though the characters were slightly more interesting, I thought the writing was perhaps a little weaker. I'd be interested to know if the TV show version of those books is also much better. If anyone cares to let us know in the comments below, it would be much appreciated!)