Category Archives: Fiction

Meredith Russo was recently interviewed by School Library Journal on diversity with her debut book If I Was Your Girl, which came at an awesome time as I’d just finished the book last week. Within the week, also making sure I returned it to the public library after booktalking it to a group of other librarians at a book club and adding multiple copies to our next order for the school library.

The premise is that Amanda is going to live with her father after a beating in a mall bathroom in the town where she currently lives with her mother. Thinking that Amanda can start fresh in a new place, the obstacles of truly being accepted by her father and then being a girl in a new school are enough to wreck her nerves. But, things are settling in well and Grant, a kind-hearted boy, has already taken an interest in her. And while she wants to tell Grant about her being born a boy, his insistence that he’s not interested in any “secret” puts Amanda at ease. For the first time, allowing herself to truly enjoy being herself, though she has told another girl she befriended at school.

It’s a strategically told story with a crisp voice that is neither too flowery nor too pointed. There is a comfort in Russo’s storytelling that allows for a bit of complacency before another traumatic event unfolds, sending chaos into Amanda’s life yet again. It’s the characters, from Amanda and Grant to her father that explore the emotions of a trans experience. I think it’s a cut above others in its categorization, serving a more rounded understanding of transitioning still feeling guarded, a necessary measure to protect oneself. It explores religion and homophobia, secret-keeping, and family.

It’s got a provocative title and cover that compliment each other, which is where I always start with a book. Then add to it an author’s note about Russo’s own experience and it’s a book needing to be on everyone’s shelf to read and then share widely.

After having just read and posted about Exit, Pursued by a Bear and now just finishing after an obsessive day of reading Dreamers Often Lie by Jacqueline West, I am elated by the resurgence of Shakespeare-inspired YA fiction.

For this story, there is no doubt that Shakespeare seeps from the pages from the title to the incorporation of a main character who acts: you’d be hard-pressed to find an actor who hasn’t played a character in one of his plays. Jaye is now in high school and playing Titania in A Midsummer Night’s Dream opposite her childhood friend, Pierce, who has been distant over the last few years, but is taking up acting in his senior year. Yet Jaye’s life has been rocked by a brain injury during a skiing accident with her mother and sister. Not only does she want to leave the hospital to get back to the play and her friends, she’s feigning good-health when instead she’s seeing and hearing Shakespeare characters including the bard himself, Hamlet, and Romeo. Romeo turns out to be the new kid in town and a love interest for Jaye, while also epitomizing the possible bad decisions that Jaye has continuously made and that had disappointed her father before his untimely death. Insert the love triangle as Pierce becomes overprotective of the healing Jaye.

There is much to discover within the pages, from lines from the plays to Jaye’s family dynamics, healing from a brain injury, and healthy decision-making. The writing and pacing engage readers from start to finish with a seamless incorporation of the hallucinated characters. So once readers tune in to Jaye’s new normal, the book is easy to follow. It’s not about mental illness and it’s not true magic, it’s simply her brain’s reaction to the trauma. And she certainly doesn’t want to admit it to anyone either.

With the amount of drama between the pages, it doesn’t have to be a “literary” teen who will enjoy it because it’s contemporary realism with a pinch of canon. But you better be ready to hear from them once they turn the final pages. It wouldn’t be true Shakespeare without it.

Having been afforded the opportunity through Netgalley to read Eric Devine’s newest title that will debut this fall, I’m hopeful that the tide is turning on GLBTQ titles: instead of it being the sole focus of the story with a weak storyline for the sake of having a GLBTQ character, newer fiction is going deeper. The stories are mysteries and fantasy and science fiction with characters that are GLBTQ. And that’s exactly what you get in Look Past.

Avery is used to sideways glances and cutting comments, but he is past it affecting him. He has positive relationships and kind friendships, but in the opening scene, Avery is in the woods, linked arm-in-arm with others from the community searching for his friend Mary. Mary is missing and while no one wants to think “presumed dead”, that’s exactly what happens when her body is discovered.

Now Avery’s mission is to solve the crime, especially now that he’s been pulled in and his love for Mary propel him to push through the animosity and hatred. He’s willing to put himself in harm’s way and this keeps us up at night.

Chills and thrills. Religion. Hopefulness? And we pause and hold our breath when Avery is patted down. Angered, frustrated. We know. They know. It’s moments like this that make Devine’s book thoughtful, rich, and empathetic. I can’t wait to share this widely– it is not a niche book, not by a long shot.

The younger brother book to Nicola Yoon’s Everything, Everything, Highly Illogical Behavior by John Corey Whaley is endearing and fascinating. A snapshot of Solomon’s life living with agoraphobia, Whaley  focuses as much on Solomon’s life functioning indoors after an anxiety attack pushed him over the end and he became “that kid” who took off most of his clothes and went into the school’s water fountain. The debilitating mental illness keeps him inside, going to school online and entertaining himself with books and Star Trek. His parents are in tact. And now he is befriended by a former classmate, Lisa, who has an ulterior motive along with befriending Solomon.

The realistic conversations both spoken and unspoken by Solomon and Lisa along with Lisa’s boyfriend Clark, Solomon’s parents, and grandmother lend itself to an authentic exploration of agoraphobia and anxiety disorders. Solomon is content having not left the house in three years. He also realizes that he’s gay– this discovery is neither life-altering or unexpected– rather just another layer to the story. It’s juxtaposed by the insistence by all of Lisa’s friends that her boyfriend, Clark, is gay.

Readers explore the world as Solomon sees it, how his parents are reacting to it, and the friendship forged by Lisa and Clark with him. Each character has a strong voice, all with a vested interest in Solomon’s health and well-being. This can be added to the growing body of YA literature that focuses on mental health and mental illness and does it well.

I first got to know April Genevieve Tucholke just a few weeks ago when I read her curated collection of short stories Slasher Girls & Monster Boys. Loved. And now to pick up her book that’s getting some buzz was wonderful. And then I read the first page and was introduced to Poppy “She was the girl next door who fell off her bike and laughed at her bloody knees. She was the neighborhood hero who organized games of Burn the Witch and got everyone to play. She was the high school queen who reached forward one day during math class, grabbed Holly Trueblood’s thick, white-blond hair in her fist, and cut it off at the skull while Holly screamed and screamed. All because someone said Holly’s hair was prettier than her own.”

And I thought, yup, this is my kind of book. And then I read more and I thought, this is The Virgin Suicides by Eugenides meets Nothing by Teller and I was hooked. The dark mood set the pace as readers got to know Poppy and Wink and Midnight. Poppy is an only child, self-centered and evil while Wink is free spirited and innocent. Midnight is the boy caught in the middle. He’s been wrapped around Poppy’s finger, a pawn in her chess match, but moving closer to Wink gives him the ability to be softer and more worldly. Wink talks in fairy tales and tarot cards and Poppy talks in meanness and sex.

Some of the characterizations are stereotypical, but when Tucholke incorporates a magical thread pulling the story toward its climax– readers are shocked, scared, but satisfied. These three characters are worth knowing and learning from. Their trauma is our trauma, their failure is our failure. From the beautifully scattered cover art, unorthodox character names and situations, to the symbolic use of white stags and red fruit, it’s not an everyone book, but those that do read and love will do so with fervor.