Fairytales for Wilde Girls by Allyse Near

Review

Fairytales for Wilde Girls is a book I went from being thoroughly engrossed in, to thinking it was overwritten, to admiring the luscious descriptions, to feeling a little put off by easy sentimentality, to absolutely loving the bubblegum-goth inspired descriptions, to cringing at a little too much heroine idolising. And yet, Fairytales is a glorious mish-mash of old and young, sweet and bitter, light and dark, classic and unique - so I guess my mixed feelings are quite adequate. Ultimately I quite admire it. It's the kind of writing I was doing and wanted to do in all my own creative writing uni classes, but always felt repressed by students and tutors who wanted serious, hip, navel-gazing statements - 'serious' writing that could only be taken 'seriously' if it was socially and culturally 'serious'. Meanwhile I was writing about trees that uprooted themselves and set off on magical adventures to find water. Fairytales for Wilde Girls speaks to the unadulterated, dreamer me who just wanted my writing to be beautiful.

I do admire creative license when it comes to writing, and lush, creative imagery - although a few instances throughout the book I thought, just a little, it was trying too hard. This relentless style of imagery does suck you in, though, added to the delicious contempo-magic world of Isola. Can a book be gothically sweet? Yes, this one is. It is very whimsical. Although I wish the author had pared back a little when it came to the ending, and tying the story together - it was overly-described, and thus I thought some of the beauty of it was lost.

Fairytales for Wilde Girls is set in among all the things I love - magic, gothic, fairytales, folklore, faerie creatures, coming of age, wicca, secrets, escaping to fantasy places. I love the idea of the six princes, and of having faerie confidants that no one else can communicate with. There are so many ideas here, and they are tied together in a very enthralling way.

The only sub-plot I didn't really care for was Edgar. So Isola got her happily ever after? But for a book that had a very strong feminine, female-orientated focus, I didn't really think the book needed to end with a love declaration to a male character. That is very paranormal-romance for me, and I believe Fairytales was Isola's personal growth story, not a love story.

I love that Random House (my own publishers) have the guts to publish something so unique, risky, and unusual. I don't know if I love it, but I love what it's all about

Ship Kings 02 Voyage of the Unquiet Ice

Review

I love this series. The Ship Kings is fast becoming one of my favourite modern children's series, along with Michelle Lovric's The Undrowned Child, and Helen Dunmore's Ingo (sensing a sea theme, anyone?) The second installment in the Ship Kings, Voyage of the Unquiet Ice, had me enthralled from the get go. If you seriously want adventure - good, old-fashioned adventure, but at the same time modern and fresh - then Ship Kings are the books for you.

Andrew McGahan is a great writer - he knows how to enthrall, how to invoke emotion, how to write beautiful passages that portray a character's feelings, without being pretentious and flowery. Voyage of the Unquiet Ice also benefited greatly from upping the pace a bit: one of the things I thought the first book had working against it. This book, however, is pretty much a non-stop adventure - it is thrilling and dangerous and pushes the characters to their very limits, and it perfectly captures the wonder Dow feels setting out on his first real adventure at sea.

Once again the descriptions of the ocean, and the connection people have to it, are wonderful. The descriptions in general are wonderful - once we get to the 'unquiet ice', McGahan throws us into the cold, the wet, the eerieness, the stillness, the danger, the terrible beauty of the icebergs. The atmosphere leaks onto the pages. The way Dow's life on the ship is described is very informative, but never dry.

I really enjoyed the characters in Voyage of the Unquiet Ice. They are a terrible, brutal, and fascinating bunch, and Dow is a great character to navigate the waters around them. I also found the political side to the story (something which generally loses me in fantasy) easy to comprehend and extremely interesting. Having ship kings politics play out in the background while Dow embarks on his adventures gives the story urgency and weight.

Read these books. Do it. You may struggle to get into them at first because they are quite dense - but persist, because they are fabulous. I haven't enjoyed such a well-written book since I read Seraphina last year. Can't wait until the third one.

Beautiful Creatures (Caster Chronicles 01) by Kami Garcia & Margaret Stohl

Review

I chose Beautiful Creatures as my easy holiday read for a recent trip to Hawaii. 'Yes', I thought at the airport, 'A Ya gothic paranormal-romance read, that does sound like perfect escapism for a twelve hour plane trip, no stops.'

Hmmmm.

Instead, I wanted to escape the book. I read it through to the end because I do not like letting books defeat me, and I didn't want to miss out on a big reveal or anything that would happen that was so amazing it would make reading this book worth it.

My main problem with Beautiful Creatures is that it kind of sits at one level for it's one trillion pages (exaggeration). Nothing really happens. At least, I can't remember anything happening. The idea is a good one but the execution was kind of boring. The characters didn't grab me, in fact the only one I think who makes any kind of bang is Ridley.

And our two love interests - well, they don't have the smultzy teeney love stuff that I find commonly infuriating in paranormal YA, but they don't really have any sparks either. I honestly just didn't care how their relationship would end up by the end of the book; the stakes weren't high enough, and trying to connect their love story with the historical love story as played out by the ghosts in the locket - well, sorry, but I don't think much depth was added there either.

The writing is decent, the ideas great, the gothic atmosphere has a definite allure - but the story is dull. I understand there is a lot to build on in the future books, but I found Beautiful Creatures to be written a little lazily, and I don't have much inclination to follow the series through.

Wither by Lauren DeStefano

Review

On a surface level I enjoyed Wither but there were parts of me that remained stubbornly incredulous and even a little bit derisive at times. This is a dystopian YA novel so I’m willing to suspend disbelief but I do feel a little bit of extra work on the world could have made Wither a more fulfilling read. Both the dystopian elements of Rhine’s world and also some of the character intentions felt lazy and frustrating. I also felt a bit iffy about it at times because the concept – one young man sharing three teenage ‘wives’, emotionally and sexually – well, I find that a little wrong, especially for a teenage book.

There are moments of beauty in Wither, which was mainly why I kept reading. I also really wanted to find out if Rhine managed to leave, and take Gabriel with her. There are a few passages where the author really captures that desperate, funked out atmosphere and sense of hopelessness – this I enjoyed. But then nobody ever did anything about it.

I enjoyed the three main characters in Wither – the sister-wives Rhine, Jenna and Cecily. The relationship that develops between them is the heart of the book (not the kind-of-forced twin-brother angle). I probably cared for Rhine the least, and found her the most un-multi-faceted, but I still did want her to successfully escape. Actually all the female characters in the book – from Rhine’s hand-maiden to the head cook to first-wife Rose – all exude some kind of personality. They are all likeable. The male characters don’t fare so well. Hopefully Gabriel will come out of his shell a bit more in future books.

I have heard this book referred to as a young ‘Handmaid’s Tale’ and I can see resemblances. The Handmaid’s Tale is one of my favourite books and I think the dystopian elements of it are near perfect. The dystopian elements of Wither are not.  I think it is catering more towards the romance element, and therefore YA fans of that will really enjoy it. Wither is quite moody and atmospheric, and actually quite different from a lot of YA dystopian action-based on-the-run books. I guess its uniqueness is a strong selling point. I enjoyed it, but only just.

Fire in the Sea by Myke Bartlett

Review

Fire in the Sea is an exciting mish-mash of ideas – Greek god mythology, adventure quest, time travel, drowned city dystopia, contemporary coming-of-age story. It is exciting to me that an author can make a story like this and set it in a very recognisable Perth. I really admire the scope and imagination of Fire in the Sea, and I think for the most part it all works together in an intriguing and cohesive way.

This book won the Text Prize in 2012, which is why I’ve had my eye on it for a while. I really enjoyed how it started off with a lazy, long-hot Summer vibe; there was great atmosphere and hints of contemporary romance. Then it very quickly got quite weird and very unique.

Sadie was a solid heroine, although at times I think she was a bit selfish and should have treated Tom better. He was one of my favourite characters, and he had a nice quiet strength. Jake the ‘love interest’ had a fair bit of charm too, though. I like the menace that the author created around the Minotaur figure, although I felt that all the other ‘baddies’ were adequate but so-so.

What kept me reading Fire in the Sea was its uniqueness, the exciting fantasy ideas and the thrill of not quite knowing what was going to happen next. I am very much looking forward to seeing what else Bartlett has up his sleeve.

First published by Text Publishing in 2012

A Month with April-May, by Edyth Bulbring

Review

A terrific little YA book arrived instore yesterday. It is called A Month with April-May, and I first read it as a proof. I believe it will be a series, which is fabulous, because April-May February (real name) is a charming character with just the right amount of attitude and heart.

A Month with April-May would be perfect for readers of Jacqueline Wilson or Louise Rennison. Both the style of the writing and the characters/situations reminded me of their books. April-May is the new kid at Trinity College, admitted on a bursary and seemingly doing her best to mess it all up.

April-May is a bit offbeat, always honest and altogether quite charming. I love the snappy way this book is written and the wry observations. It is probably nothing we haven't all read before, but there was just a bit of extra dazzle about it, and the cast of secondary characters was really  enjoyable.

Recommended for early High School librarys, and teen comedy fans.

First published in Australia in 2013, by Hot Key

Lost Voices by Sarah Porter

Review

Mermaid fiction is one of my guilty pleasures when it comes to reading, and Lost Voices has been high on my list of ‘to-reads’ for aggggeeeees. I finally found it available in Australia through one of our smaller publishers, when I was uploading the new release files at my bookstore. Yet another reason why working at a bookstore is totally amaze!

Lost Voices is a unique mermaid story, quite different to the usual fare you get with YA paranormal fiction. There is no big love story, or triangle (although I believe that will be developed in future books), the premise of ‘becoming’ a mermaid is unique, and the story is pretty much entirely set in the ocean – i.e., the mermaids are not half-human, and don’t get around on land, and can’t go to school and all that YA-ish stuff. I really, really, loved the choices Sarah Porter made when constructing her story. The mermaids also do mermaid-ish stuff – sink ships, covet and steal human treasures, drown seamen by singing to them, live in caves. I think Porter obviously really loves mer-mythology, and that was what primarily kept me reading.

I would like to see, in future books, the mer-world expanded on though – I would like to be taken deep within that oceanic world, as Porter’s descriptions of sea-life are interesting, but mostly pretty and harmless. I would like to meet some more mer ‘tribes’, and I am interested to see how pear-shaped things get when humans begin to learn of the mer existence.

My big gripe with Lost Voices is that I really disliked, or didn’t enjoy, most of the characters. They are all mostly vain and shallow and silly, as I guess teenage mermaids should be, but I think there is room to go deeper, as is hinted at with the mermaid Kat. I REALLY couldn’t stand the ‘so hip’ way a lot of the mermaids talked, and personally I was glad at the end of the book when Luce decides that maybe that tribe isn’t for her. The best parts of the book are when the mermaids are in action, doing their mer-thing, instead of talking like Mean Girls rejects and squabbling over designer clothes.

Lost Voices certainly piqued my interest to read the rest of the series – if only it would build on the darkness, the haunting loveliness that appears in flashes, then I would be completely sold.

First published in July 2011

In Australia, November 2012

A Monster Calls by Patrick Ness

First published in 2011

If you can, try to get the illustrated version of A Monster Calls – it makes the whole book a beautiful little volume to keep and really enhances the dark themes and emotions present in the book. They mimic the kind of twisted, bitter thoughts present in Connor’s mind, but overall just appeal to the idea of darkness. I think they were haunting and beautiful.

This book is dark. It is raw, it is unflinching and honest, and for all the magic realism present in it, it is a very real story. I knew what was coming – I think that it is clear what will happen from the start. But I did cry, and not even just because the writing was beautiful or it was really tragic – but just because it feels very real and laid bare. Even if you can’t relate to Connor’s sadness, and the reasons for it, I think it is easy to apply those feelings on a personal level, because as they are written they are simple and totally accessible and there is nothing forced about them.

I really loved the idea of the monster calling on Connor. I actually found the monster rather funny with his deadpan lines and how he totally discredits all of Connor’s outbursts. I thought he was kinda cool. I wouldn’t mind if he came calling on me. The ‘monster’ element is actually a really lovely, unforced example of using magic or fantasy to enhance a contemporary story – the two parts work together seamlessly.

Another aspect of A Monster Calls I really enjoyed is the way it uses the importance of stories – stories to occupy our minds, stories to cast light on our own lives, and stories to create beauty out of chaos. Connor may not like the stories the monster tells him, but he cannot deny their importance in getting him to the place he needs to be with his mother.

A Monster Calls is not a story I absolutely love or would hold dear to my heart, but it is a very special story and a beautiful idea. I think many people would cherish it as an emotional attachment - it might be one of those books that ‘gets’ them.

Night Beach by Kirsty Eagar

First published by Penguin, 2012

It was important to me, that this book be brilliant. Kirsty’s Raw Blue is still one of the best YA books I’ve ever read. Night Beach covers similar territory - teen angst, identity, the beach, very Australian. I was so ready for her lovely writing, characters and story to sweep me away.

I admire the ambition of Night Beach. I think its gothic inclinations are rather beautiful – the imaginative ideas, the way they gel with the contemporary story. But I feel as if it wasn’t a successful melding, and I can’t really say why. I don’t know, I think it’s a mix of being a little too overwrought, a little too long, maybe even not feeling Eagar’s confidence with what she was doing. It might be that I think it all got a little indulgent? Whatever it is, I found (in the second half of the book especially) that it all got a little overdone and overworked, and all the single lovely things I’d enjoyed about the first half of the book all got a little eaten up by the complexities of the second half.

There are some Raw Blue moments that I really loved. Some of Abbie’s thoughts, the way the atmosphere builds and heightens, especially in a terrific scene that simply involves Abbie in her house, trying to walk upstairs. Wow. The gothic-flavoured moments of dread are electrifying. Of course, being a lover of the sea, I enjoyed once again the idea of Abbie drawing comfort from the ocean. Sometimes even I can’t explain my emotional connection to the sea, but hey, Eagar does it for me. She really gets that unknowable, sometimes terrifying power the ocean can have, and it heightens the atmosphere in the book.

I think Night Beach could have done with an extra edit. I would have liked to see all the little sub-plots (the baby-sitting, the Hollywood thing, her Dad and the new baby) tied together, or worked into the gothic narrative a bit more. The painting sub-plot is really the only thing that is worked fully and successfully into the supernatural elements. Also, the whole mystery surrounding Kane and the boys and what happened on the island – perfectly plausible, but I think I wanted something more.

I understood where Abbie was coming from; that deep, consuming ache for someone. But I wanted to shake her a little. I did find her a bit tedious at times; Carly in Raw Blue was full of emotional baggage but she was never, er, pathetic. But I understood her attraction to Kane, and I think her longing was captured realistically.

Hmm. An ambitious, unique, and frequently lovely book. Not 100% sold though.

Where Things Come Back by John Corey Whaley

First published in 2011, in Australia Sep 2012

Hmmm. Even without reading this book, I loved it. I saw it as a proof in my bookstore and grabbed it, flicked through a few really fantastic passages, and then took it home. As I read more and more, it lost a little of its appeal. All the little quirks that I started off enjoying began to annoy me, a tiny bit. It still held my interest. I still think it is a clever, mostly well-written and certainly unique book, but Where Things Come Back did lose me, just a little.

It was clever how Whaley tied the two main stories together, and all the other povs that are interspersed throughout. It made me want to keep reading, to see how they would come together, and also to see what he would do with all these non-linear timelines. He pulls it off. Stylistically, it is also clever to tie everything back to this idea of a small town going crazy for the appearance of the Lazarus woodpecker – to see how hope is a lovely thing, but it can also turn people a little crazy. The woodpecker is the symbolic heart of Where Things Come Back, and (from a writer’s perspective) I enjoy this kind of neat, simple, stylistic technique.

I thought this book was a case of the secondary, peripheral characters being the more interesting. I couldn’t warm to any of the main narrators. In fact, I think this is my main problem with the book. I didn’t really like anyone. And I don’t think it’s a reflection of their actual personalities, but the way they are written about – with a certain cynical, cold-hearted view. This book has warmth but it isn’t found in the characters, and that prevents me from caring. What I did enjoy was the way Whaley built up some characters, like Lucas and John Barling, so we formed an idea of them. And then he dropped a subtle bombshell which revealed all their hidden parts and motivations. The best example was when Cullen talks to John on the swing. Love moments like these.

I think the writing did show signs of this being a debut novel. It is very Dawson’s Creek. Full of emotion but in that cynical, referential way, that can be hip but is really, I feel, sometimes just disguised indulgence. It makes me smile the way people are always referred to by their full name. At the start I didn’t mind Cullen referring to himself in the third person but it does wear a little thin.

As for Cullen and his main crew – well they are so unobtrusively hip that it’s all pretty harmless. I can understand why some will love his cynical self. I felt all a bit blasé about it all. And I’m still not sure if the ending is real or not.

Seraphina by Rachel Hartman

First published by Random House, 2012

Seraphina is a gorgeous book. It has great complexity and luscious detail. The emotion is genuine and the characters are at the same time wonderfully eccentric and empathetic.  The world of Goredd is creative and interesting, and best of all, there are so many places it can be taken with future books.

In the realm of Goredd, a fragile peace has been achieved between humans and dragons. But the truce is shattered when a royal prince is brutally murdered. Our heroine, Seraphina, is drawn into the investigation and as she begins to uncover the dark comings and goings of the royal court, so too are her own secrets put at great peril. Seraphina does have a lot in common with other dragon-fantasy epics such as Eragon or an Anne McCaffrey or Robin Hobb. But the voice is wonderfully youthful and fresh and the dragon mythology completely original.

Rachel Hartman’s world is complex and I found early on I did have to persist. But, as is the way with most fantasy epics, all the different plot points and parts come together and the story starts picking up pace once the world has been adequately set up. Best of all, you become emotionally invested in the characters and want to see them through to the end.

Hartman has created some wonderful characters in Seraphina. Our heroine, Seraphina, is just the right mix of snarky, brave and vulnerable. She is smart, she takes action, nothing about her feels forced or put upon. The ‘love interest’ Kiggs also has many admirable qualities (and a dash of winning humour) that make him worthy of Seraphina. Secondary characters, such as Glisselda, Orma and Comonot, are the exact opposite of one-dimensional – there is so much going on with them and they support Seraphina wonderfully as characters.

The detail that Hartman puts into describing the court, the city, the mythology, and even the music, is opulent, and although there is a lot of it, it is the kind of intelligent detail that makes a book a classic. I really hope this series picks up as new books are released, because it really is wonderful writing and a rewarding, immersive world.

I thought Seraphina was absolutely fantastic. I loved everything about it.



Queen of the Night by Leanne Hall

First published in 2012 by Text

Hall’s first book (the Text Prize winner), This is Shyness, was one of my favourite reads in 2010. I thought it was brilliant and quirky and a stay-up-all-night read of the best sorts. Queen of the Night takes us back to this same world. The style, the hipness, the gorgeous dream-state is still there. Shyness is a fascinating world to get lost in, and Nia and Jethro (Wildgirl and Wolfie), are great characters to take us there.

When I read This is Shyness it had such a unique quality and I just fell in love. Although Queen of the Night is as unique and clever and imaginative, some of the novelty of Hall’s writing has worn off and simply for this reason I didn’t love it as much as This is Shyness. It’s amazing to fall back into that world but the ‘wow’ factor was just missing. Which is not to say that it wasn’t as good, more just a case of ‘second time around’ syndrome.

There was a lovely bittersweetness to Wildgirl and Wolfboy’s relationship this time around. What impressed me so much when they first met were the witty exchanges, the excitement of discovering each other, the charged flirtation. In this book Hall has captured wonderfully that feeling of trying to get over someone, of missed opportunity, of hope even when you know there is no substance to it. I really liked the first half of Queen of the Night when Wildgirl and Wolfboy were dancing around each other. And of course, when they do meet again, they still retain their strong, individual personalities that drive the narrative forward.

The action picks up in the second half of the book. The plot line this time revolves around Doctor Gregory stealing people’s dreams – in this case the dreams of Wolfboy’s depressed friend, Paul. Because of this, Paul has gone into a catatonic state. Wildgirl must enter a dream world to try and bring him back. It is all very hip and lovely-weird and whimsical but always in a contained, unself-aware way.

I have found with Hall’s books that they are less about the plot and more about the experience. The adventure drives forward the themes, the relationships, the ideas. The suburb of Shyness is as alluring as ever. It creates such a wonderful space to explore the imagination. The writing is actually quite concise and straightforward, but the world and thoughts it gives rise to elevate it beyond the words on the page. It was nice to see Wolfboy’s relationship with Ortolan and Diana develop, although I feel their interactions in Queen of the Night were really just to lay the foundation for possible development in a third book.

Another enjoyable and imaginative outing from Leanne Hall. She has a very distinct voice in Aussie YA fiction and is one of the few authors who I actually follow from book to book, waiting to see what she will do next.

Switched (Trylle 01) By Amanda Hocking

This edition published in 2012 by Tor, Pan Macmillan

To be honest, I think Amanda Hocking’s author story is great. Good on her. Although I’m not a fan of self-publishing, she obviously took the initiative and it worked for her. Now she’s reaping the benefits.

I can’t say that I have the same admiration for her book. I read it because of the hype – both the self-publishing hype and the hype it’s getting in our bookstore; we sell multiple copies just about every day. I wanted to see what made it rise above all those other books self-published. I’m still not really sure exactly what that quality was.

It’s a cute story. It has all the tropes of paranormal romance – romance and forbidden love and action and the heroine possessing a ‘special’ quality that puts her in danger from the enemy. Perhaps that’s just exactly why it is so successful. I think on the whole it is more light and fluffy than the usual paranormal YA romance, which often takes itself too seriously. Before I read all the same comparisons myself, I was thinking it came across a lot like The Princess Diaries. The writing is not so self-aware, and I think for Switched it works.

Switched has obviously been edited before being put into print, but I still found the language to have a very self-published feel – from the over-use of adjectives to characters never ‘saying’ but always ‘emphasizing’ or ‘ advising’ or ‘commenting’. Also Hocking has a way of phrasing or describing things that just doesn’t sound at times traditional. There are many passages of internal thought, which my editor always insists ‘put it into dialogue! Show it through action!’ But to be honest, I actually didn’t mind. I found it gave the writing quite a distinct personality, if writing can have a personality.

Wendy does at least have a personality, which is more than I can say for a lot of para-romance heroines. I’m not sure if it’s a good personality, or if I like it yet. Where the characters shine is with the periphery characters – Rhys and Tove, and to a lesser extent Willa and Garrett. I find these characters quite intriguing, and hope Hocking incorporates more of their story in her later Trylle books.

Also, good on Hocking for using trolls for her main paranormal creatures, but they could just as well have been faeries or just really beautiful humans. I didn’t really find them to have any distinguishable characteristics, apart from the whole ‘changeling’ thing. The mythical creature hierarchy is quite interesting but perhaps not developed as much as it could be.

And what was with the ending? It really did feel like Hocking just gave up and stopped writing, and deus-ex-machina was practically jumping off the page. It was the only part of Switched that I really didn’t like. The rest was rather harmless and cute.

The Coming of the Whirlpool (Ship Kings 01) by Andrew McGahan

First published by Allen & Unwin, 2011

How to describe this book? It is quite unlike any book I’ve read in a while – not quite fantasy, not quite YA, not quite children’s, not quite a high seas adventure tale. It is a mixture of all these and more.

It is quite literary. You have to be quite dedicated to reading it. At least I did. I have picked it up and put it down since the start of the year. But the last quarter I read in a couple of days. The last quarter is where it all pays off – for me, where the story all comes together. I wasn’t sure about the book or the style or the story until the last quarter, when The Coming of the Whirlpool did indeed sweep me up in the awe and the adventure of the sea and sailing and Dow’s world. Somehow I forgave the slow pacing and ponderous nature of the first half to two thirds, the relatively little action, because the end of the story feels so rewarding, and I get the feeling McGahan knew exactly what he was doing all along.

In an interview with Fancy Goods, McGahan says The Coming of the Whirlpool belonged to the type of fantasy that concerns itself with the wonder and adventure and mood of its own strange world, and less about the complexity of its politics or relationships. The world he has created here feels wonderfully unique, and is focused upon the power and intrigue of the sea. This sense of wonder is palpable. Not only because of Dow, because he is so strongly attracted to the sea himself, but also just because of the way McGahan writes about the ocean. I have my own fascination with the ocean/sea, and McGahan just captures so well the frightening power of it, its terrible beauty, its secrets and mystery. This is the kind of writing where you really can hear the sounds and see what is being described – it is all so vivid and immediate.

I love that there is a map included at the front. I love maps. I love checking places off against a map, of tracing the character’s journey and movements. It is also a beautifully designed book.

Not everyone will enjoy this – the pacing is slow, the mood is reflective, the language can at times be quite archaic. But as you read along the writing and the atmosphere creeps under your skin, and then kind of bursts out at the end. To me, this book went from a two star to a four star book by the end, and I am actually (very rare for me) intrigued enough to read the next in the series – The Voyage of the Unquiet Ice.

Fury by Elizabeth Miles

First published in 2012 by Simon & Schuster

The trick with paranormal YA is to kind of know what to expect – certainly not true of all titles, but when I pick up something like Fury I’m pretty certain of what I’m going to get and so just have fun with it. That’s why I like reading paranormal YA – it is easy, escapist and fun. It’s what I read when it feels like I have a thousand deadlines and other things to do and I want to spend an enjoyable fifteen minutes break with a cup of tea.

So no, Fury won’t rock the literary world. The characters won’t go down as classic heroes. But it was quick and easy, immersive and written well enough to keep my attention on the story.

You may have heard elsewhere that the characters don’t exactly set the world alight. This is true. I found most of them shallow and annoying. And a little stupid. No, I don’t understand why the Furies chose to target these kids (their crimes aren’t right by any means, but there are certainly worse). But then you have to remember this is a book for teens – glossy and sexy and embedded in high school dramas. The ‘sins’ these teens do have to be relevant to their intended audience. Anyway, no I didn’t care for the characters. A lot of them are just stock-standard. And the Furies are beautiful and mysterious and alluring, but we never really get much about them. But I kind of liked this.

It is quite creepy when they randomly show up, or just flit around at the edges of the character’s eyes. Fury is a little more dangerous and scary than your usual paranormal YA. Miles manages to wring a bit of atmosphere out of the dark nights and snowy, barren town. There is a bit more ‘adult’ content rather than just moony stares and heartfelt declarations of love. Sometimes I found the language, stylistically, a little too dramatic; and there is, especially at the start, a bit of cringey telling and not showing. When this happens it feels awkward and a little juvenile. But apart from this, the writing has a quick, fast pace and is easy to get stuck into.

Fury at least tries something different. It doesn’t have any life-affirming messages but it is a little bit sexy, a little bit trashy, and a little bit fun.

The Wicked Wood (Tales from the Tower) Volume 2, Edited by Nan McNab & Isobelle Carmody

First published in 2011 by Allen & Unwin

I was very impressed with Volume 1 of Tales from the Tower (The Forbidden Eye), and so have been looking forward to Volume 2: The Wicked Wood ever since. The fairytales in Volume 2 are not as well known, and some are just folk-tales rather than classic fairytale re-imaginings. There is still the same creativity, mix of dark beauty/terror and great writing from Australian authors – but I didn’t find it as ‘bewitching’ an experience as Volume 1. I don’t know if the fantastic concept had just worn off a little, or if the stories just weren’t as good. Maybe a bit of both.

The six rewritten fairytales in this book are The Wolf and the Seven Little Kids; Cinderella; The Little Mermaid; and the remaining three from slightly more obscure folk tales, including one based on a story from one of favourite mythologies, the Irish Tir-na-nog. To be honest, across the two collections I liked the stories more when they were based on the well-known fairytales, just because these tales are so familiar that it’s so interesting to see how these authors interpret and update them.

I was so delighted to see Victor Kelleher in this collection, rewriting an Irish folktale, Birthing. Practically every library trip I took as a teen, I would hunt down any of his books, and he has written one of my all time fav YA novels, Parkland. When I was thirteen years old, I had never read anything like the worlds he created, and the emotion in these stories was so often spot on. Birthing was an engaging story, although not one of my favourites in the collection, and I only knew the original story because I have quite a fondness for British and Irish folklore, and this is kind of the quintessential faerie story. Kelleher sets up the scene and the concept with lots of intrigue and peril, and the final showdown is very satisfying, if a little short. But I just love seeing Kelleher in this collection, and if you have a chance to unearth any of his older YA books I think it will definitely be worth your while.

Catherine Bateson’s Learning the Tango (The Little Mermaid) and Maureen McCarthy’s The Ugly Sisters (Cinderella) are the stories that come closest to their classic fairytale counterparts. I loved Learning the Tango, and think it just fantastic and also awesome of the publishers that Bateson wrote her version in free verse. It takes a bit to get into the style, but once there, it is very accessible and some beautiful insights can be found from the prince, the Little Mermaid, and her sisters. It has all the lovely sadness of the original but with a nice, sparky ending. Some of the lines I underlined just because they were so gorgeous. Loved it. The Ugly Sisters was great to hear from the perspective of the two sisters, and the mother, but I found them as characters just really horrible and couldn’t warm to the story. Even Cinders started to bug me at the end, although McCarthy did have a few great moments where she subtly let the father figure show a bit of backbone. And there was some great menacing action by the black birds in the backyard. But ultimately I found the birds the most enjoyable characters, and their watchful presence over the household the most exciting thing that happened.

I couldn’t really warm to Nan McNab’s Glutted, also based on a slightly obscure folktale. It made me feel rather queasy, and the ‘love interest’ character I found repulsive – I guess that’s a sign of writing well done, though, if the story can invoke such strong emotions. And I did like the ‘mother’ character. The style of it reminded me a bit of Margo Lanagan’s ‘The Goosle’ – it has that same abject feel to it.

Kate Thompson’s Glamour did not quite fit comfortably into the book as a whole. It was well-written, and had a lovely reflective quality, but it was also distinctly adult in flavour and felt like a bit of an outsider. Actually on the whole the stories in Volume 2 have a much more adult feel than in Volume 1. Which is fine but I feel like the audiences for the two different volumes are slightly different.

Cate Kennedy’s Seventy-two Derwents (Wolf and the Seven Little Kids) was just lovely. This is the story that gets it most right emotion-wise, and is a great example of how such a short and simple fairytale can be re-imagined and picked apart and built upon to create a whole new emotive meaning. The central character is gorgeous – I couldn’t help but wish for anything but a happy ending for her, and the relationship she has with her sister is a great example of how a great writer can show complexity and love in such a small amount of words. I found it really clever how Kennedy transferred the story across into the contemporary world. Probably my favourite story in Volume 2.

Once again, was interesting to see how the authors had interpreted the original stories in the ‘Afterwords’. And, unlike the first Volume, I did not have a problem with overly sentimental happy endings – the endings for these stories were more of the bittersweet kind – another favourite of mine.

On the whole I think publishing the Tales from the Tower concept was a brilliant idea, and it was really fantastic to have that kind of calibre of Australian writers in one collection. Some of the stories were hit and miss, and I do wish that all the stories had been based on classic fairytales, as I think it would give the collection a greater sense of unity. But still wonderful. And absolutely gorgeously designed too.

Bones of Faerie by Janni Lee Simner

First published in 2009 by Random House

I liked Bones of Faerie well enough, but I don’t have anything particularly interesting to say about. It didn’t leave that much of an impression on me, but it’s a good quick read and one of the better YA faerie books I’ve read, if only in that it takes a slightly different path to the usual paranormal-romance path. It’s much more Franny Billingsley’s The Folk Keeper, say, than Aprilynne Pike’s Wings.

Interesting mesh of paranormal romance and post-apocalyptic fiction. For the most part I think it works. The details of the actual war that caused all the resulting chaos and divide between human and faerie are a bit lost on me, but Simner deals with the fall-out well and makes it a set-piece for Liza’s journey with her companions. I would have liked to see her take it further, but I don’t really think this book was meant to be bogged down in the expository and complicated plot.

I’m actually really glad the romantic side of things wasn’t taken further between Liza and Matthew. It’s enough to imply, and put the story’s focus elsewhere. I wasn’t really feeling them as a couple, anyway, and the book wasn’t long enough to make a developing relationship plausible, so props to Simner for not taking the easy path.

Was not a fan of all the italic bits, the memory/vision parts. By which I mean what Liza actually saw was interesting enough, but stylistically I really disliked the way it was told and we were dropped into it, and especially because it happened so often. Just a pet-hate of mine, that style of writing, and I didn’t care much after that.

That’s about it for this one. Nice story, good concept, but personally I just found there was not much in it. Good opening chapter though.

Saltwater Vampires by Kirsty Murray

First published in 2010 by Penguin

Picked up Saltwater  Vampires after falling in love with Eagar’s Raw Blue. For me, this one was not in the same league. But there were lots of things I enjoyed and appreciated about it.

Saltwater Vampires is like a weird mesh of old-world type vampires invading the very contemporary Rocky Head music-festival scene – an old-school sensibility meets a young, hip awareness complete with all the typical modern teen emotions. For me, it wasn’t quite a perfect match, and that was my main problem with the book. I appreciated it, but I didn’t really get it. I felt there was perhaps a little too much going on. The way the three distinct story overtones overlapped was all a little too complicated, with the different stories becoming distractions from the other stories to the point where I couldn’t really commit to any of them.

I liked the ‘contemporary YA’ overtone the best, and this is what I think Eagar excels at. Jamie and his gang of friends and vamp-busters are all funny and likeable and totally cool and all the rest, and their interactions are true to life and affectionately written. I liked where Eagar was taking their emotional stories, but the nature of the book – with all it’s time-jumping and shifting perspectives and what-not – means I never really got involved, like I did with Carly in Raw Blue.

This is a book all unto its own genre – it’s not a conventional vamp story, especially as we’ve come to know them from YA, and it’s not quite contemporary Aussie YA-lit. I do feel that with everything that was going on, it was more suited to an adult readership. Of course I’m all for YA pushing conventions, but I felt the plot, pacing, stories, scope, etc, would just be a better fit for ‘adult fiction’. But I did enjoy its novelty, and also the fact that these vamps were ugly and nasty – something to be scared of, disgusted by, instead of romanticised and smitten by. The whole book had a good grittiness to it.

Aussie setting is used well – the beach, the coastal town, the music festival – in a way that’s familiar but then, as Eagar works her word magic, into something strange and atmospheric and full of the unknown. Particularly the night-surfing scene and when Jamie’s bike breaks down in the national park – fantastic stuff.

I enjoyed the final big ‘showdown’ scene at the end – it provides a nice pay-off, gives the whole book a sense of urgency, and is fun to read. I found the final ‘dealing with the vamps’ (at the festival) a bit weird but that’s a minor quibble – I guess I’m just used to vamps crumbling to dust or something.

Also, a teeny bit long. Weird and wonderful and well-written but not quite perfect –kept me entertained, but just a little too much going on. 

Six Impossible Things by Fiona Wood

First published in Australia by Pan Macmillan, 2010

This was one of those 'awesome Aussie YA' books that have been on my radar for a while - aka with the likes of Graffiti Moon and Good Oil and Raw Blue - the books that have been doing well overseas and racking up all the awards and nominations.

It's cute and cool, most definitely.  Funny and awkward in the most endearing of ways.  It never quite felt 'real' to me - though, and by this I mean every problem seems to have a happy, convenient resolution,  and the emotional heart of it doesn't quite ring true.  It's very entertaining and I can't fault the writing; it's one of those books where I can't actually find anything wrong, but it just didn't quite suit my tastes. I love quirky and awkward and silly-funny, but I like there to be a little grit as well. I found Six Impossible Things to be as light and fluffy and fun as they get.

Who doesn't love Dan? He is a real cutie,  and makes 'being awkward' cool. His social ineptitude is familiar and endearing, and some of the situations he finds himself in (and inwardly reacts to) are hilarious. I particularly liked the walking across the road to avoid the awkwardness of walking so near to his crush Estelle, only having to cross back over so he can get home (she lives next door). I've done it, and numerous other predicaments he finds himself in. I really love it when an author can expose all those awkward moments we all have in such a genuine and warm-hearted way, and this book is full of them. And of course the teenage years are such rich material for this.

I didn't mind the 'crush' Estelle, but I wasn't really feeling their relationship. The cuteness of it came from Dan and his thoughts more than any meaningful interaction they had. I like relationships to be angsty in YA - I guess you can say this one kind of is, but it's all so funny  and Dan such a mooning clown that for me it sat on the 'cute' level and nothing more. Also it was all just a little too perfect - but once again, that's just a personal choice.

Cute supporting characters - the Mum annoyed me a bit. Some nice stuff with the gay Dad, if a little too forced. And Howard is as great a 'pet' character as you can get - in fact I'd almost say he was my favourite. I do love a wise, perceptive poodle.

Impossible not to like this book ... but for me, impossible to fully love it. There is also a nice, subtly done message about not wallowing in pity and just cutting the crap and taking responsibility for your own feelings and actions. Fluffy and fun.