The Fault in Our Stars

Written by John Green

Goodreads Synopsis: Diagnosed with Stage IV thyroid cancer at 12, Hazel was prepared to die until, at 14, a medical miracle shrunk the tumors in her lungs...for now. 
Two years post-miracle, sixteen-year-old Hazel is post-everything else, too: post-high school, post-friends, and post-normalcy. And even though she could live for a long time (whatever that means), Hazel lives tethered to an oxygen tank, the tumors tenuously kept at bay with a constant chemical assault.
Enter Augustus Waters. A match made at cancer kid support group, Augustus is gorgeous, in remission, and shockingly to her, interested in Hazel. Being with Augustus is both an unexpected destination and a long-needed journey, pushing Hazel to re-examine how sickness and health, life and death, will define her and the legacy that everyone leaves behind.

My Confession: Every so often, I come across a book that gets me really excited. Really excited about the fact that I can stumble across something that causes me to miss valuable hours of sleep because I've become physically incapable of putting the book down. Really excited about the idea that one person could make up a story so enthralling, so emotional, and so enchanting that it reminds me once again why I am a writer, and why I spend countless hours reading other people's words.

This is one of those books.

It's hard to put into words everything this book will make you feel. It is one of the most beautiful, well-crafted stories I've ever read. It's stunning and heartbreaking, and the raw honesty and bare reality literally took my breath away at times.

I had a moment with this book. I connected with this book. I have never felt quite so gutted, quite so drained after finishing a book, and then immediately felt the urge to pick it back up and read it all over again.

Augustus and Hazel have a connection that doesn't need glitz, glamour, or paranormal activity to portray the strength of true love. Their interactions are specific and intellectual, their banter witty and humerous. The added notion that they both battle(d) cancer adds a note of irony and maturity to their relationship, but you never forget that these are kids, kids who just happen to see the world a whole lot differently than most people do.

This is not a story about cancer and what it takes away. This is a story about finding love and transcending both time and circumstance. It's a story about life and what you do with it; love and whether you choose to believe it; hope and how you dare to feel it.

Recommendation: If you call yourself a book lover, or like myself, a bookaholic, then you cannot--cannot--miss this book. It is one of the most powerful things I've ever read. Everyone should feel the simultaneous, beautiful confliction of bone-rattling, earth-shaking love and knee-breaking, heart-wrenching sorrow that The Fault in Our Stars makes you experience in its breathtaking 300 pages. Read it. It's a rollercoaster worth riding.

Again and again.

Rating: 5/5

318 pages, published by Dutton Juvenile (Jan. 10, 2012)

Wither

Written by Lauren DeStefano

Goodreads Synopsis: What if you knew exactly when you would die? 
Thanks to modern science, every human being has become a ticking genetic time bomb--males only live to age twenty-five, and females only live to age twenty. In this bleak landscape, young girls are kidnapped and forced into polygamous marriages to keep the population from dying out.
When sixteen-year-old Rhine Ellery is taken by the Gatherers to become a bride, she enters a world of wealth and privilege. Despite her husband Linden's genuine love for her, and a tenuous trust among her sister wives, Rhine has one purpose: to escape--to find her twin brother and go home.
But Rhine has more to contend with than losing her freedom. Linden's eccentric father is bent on finding and anecdote to the genetic virus that is getting closer to taking his son, even if it means collecting corpses in order to test his experiments. With the help of Gabriel, a servant Rhine is growing dangerously attracted to, Rhine attempts to break free, in the limited time she has left.

My Confession: I loved this story for perhaps one main reason: its humanity. Dystopian stories oftentimes focus so strongly on the elements of darkness mixed with fantasy that they forget to mold characters that are still human. Just because people live in a post-apocalyptic world doesn't mean they're robots; in fact, it should be strictly the opposite. What's so chilling and eerie about Wither is that because the characters are crafted so well (they could be my own friends, from their personalities to their actions), you feel that this predicted world could be our future. It was downright bizarre to read about the twenty-first century as the "past world," and even though we're never told exactly when this story takes place, the technological and chemical advances that our society makes today creates a scarily possible prediction. It's the scientific obsession with curing all human ailments and the obsessive quest for perfection that manifests a genetic disorder, cursing the "perfect" first generation with terminally damaged children. Hunger Games meets 1984. And it's a startlingly awesome combination.

Sister Wives: No, not the TLC show. The element of forced polygamous marriages proved an interesting and pivotal plot point. I just loved how well-formed these characters were. Rhine's sister wives are anything but predictable, and the bond the three form as the story goes on defies the easy plot twist of love triangles and unrelenting jealousy. The husband, Linden, is extremely multi-faceted, and I enjoyed reading how his character developed. The way this story pulled away his layers leaves the reader with a character we want to hate, but somehow can't. The supporting cast, from Rhine's "makeup team" to the charming servant Gabriel, mirror the human predicament of complacency. No matter where you go, no matter who you meet, there will always be people who will never see a situation for as bad as it truly is. On the flip side, there will also always be people who refuse to give up fighting for something better. And I just love how this book puts both ideals into action and allows the true humanity of life (no matter the century) to shine through.

Recommendation: Wither is the first in a trilogy, but if I didn't already know it was a part of a series, the ending wouldn't have clued me in. I'm glad that the author didn't end this book on a supermassive cliffhanger just for the sake of doing so. Most writers, when they're setting up for a series, purposely end a book prematurely or at a really pivotal moment to ensure that readers will come back for the second book. Wither doesn't feel the need to do that. Yes, there's more to the story. Yes, most of my questions were answered, and yes, I'd be pretty satisfied if it all ended on that last page. But DeStefano left plenty of wiggle room in this story. She mastered the art of solving some problems while creating others. And that leaves the door open just enough. Series or no series, this stands on its own merit while trusting that Rhine's narrative is more than enough to bring readers back. And it is.

Rating: 4.5/5

358 pages, published by Simon & Schuster (March 22, 2011)

Thirteen Reasons Why

Written by Jay Asher

Synopsis: You can't stop the future. You can't rewind the past. The only way to learn the secret...is to press play.
Clay Jensen doesn't want anything to do with the tapes Hannah Baker made. Hannah is dead. Her secrets should be buried with her.
Then Hannah's voice tells Clay that his name is on her tapes--and that he is, in some way, responsible for her death.
All through the night, Clay keeps listening. He follows Hannah's recorded words throughout his small town...
...and what he discovers changes his life forever.

My Confession: I assumed this book was going to be heavy as soon as I picked it up. The back cover does a pretty good job summarizing that no matter what else you learn from the almost-300-page novel, a girl killed herself. That's a plot point that cannot be undone. No matter how attached you become to her character, no matter how sympathetic you feel toward her situation, she's still dead. Nothing changes that.

I didn't foresee this as a problem. Okay, so the girl's dead. No big, right? That's the whole point of a story--it's not real. Curiosity made me pick this up, and even though the subject surpassed morbid, I felt like I could keep a healthy barrier between myself and the story that was about to unfold before me.

Wrong.

Numerous times I felt myself biting back moments of pure rage. Moments where, like the main character Clay--who's forced to listen to the tapes even though he cared greatly about Hannah--I wanted to stuff my fist in my mouth and scream against the barrier. The "thirteen reasons" Hannah purposefully overdoses on pills never feels justified, but I sure as hell felt her pain. And I almost understood why she did it. Almost.

Talk it out: There's a lot to be learned from a book like this. Nowhere is teenage life glorified. Parties are the smelly, sweaty, uncomfortable, claustrophobic spaces we all remember from adolescence but choose to remember as the "glory days." The bubbly, pretty, popular girls are represented as the fake, condescending, image-obsessed people they are. Hannah takes the mystique and sheen off the pretty high school picture painted by the ignorant, those who choose to believe everything they see and hear at face value. In the end, rumors killed Hannah Baker. And while I still walk away from this desperately wanting her to choose differently, her suicide was the only way to make this story pack the powerful punch it did. I dare someone to not feel something after reading this. No teenager could, or should, be the same after reading this. Maybe, in real life, people will be able to identify the warning signs sooner than those around Hannah were able to. Maybe this book can save a few lives, if only by allowing people to hear Hannah's story.

Recommendation: Have I ever thought seriously about suicide? No. Have I ever felt that no one around me gave a shit about whether I lived or died? Yes. But this book shows how a no to the first question can turn to a yes. I was never truly in danger of that happening to me, which is perhaps why a small barrier remains between myself and the heart of this story. I cannot comprehend that suicide is the right answer, ever. Nothing in life can ever be that bad. And even though we, as readers, learn Hannah's motives, and sympathize with the events that led her to such a final act, my hope is that more readers than not find Hannah's actions terrible. An act that they themselves could never foresee turning to.

I was bullied. I know how alone you can feel. Like you're the only person in a room full of crowded people who know each other, but can't--and won't--spare you a second glance. Use this book to keep an eye out for people on the fringe, people who seem okay, but your gut tells you something's wrong. If anything, read this book because it's real. And terrifying. And sad. Read it because it can teach you something. Read it because the next time you see someone with their head hanging low, you have the chance to save their life. All Hannah needed was someone to believe in. She finds it in Clay, but only after she's convinced herself that dying is her only option. Be someone's Clay.

Listen to Hannah's thirteen tapes here.

If you, or anyone you know is thinking or talking about suicide, go here. There's help out there. Don't let what happened to Hannah happen to you or someone you love.

Rating: 4.5/5

288 pages, published by Razorbill (Oct. 18, 2007)

Sisterhood Everlasting

Written by Ann Brashares

Goodreads Synopsis: From #1 New York Times Bestselling author Ann Brashares comes the welcome return of the characters whose friendship became a touchstone for a generation. Now Tibby, Lena, Carmen, and Bridget have grown up, starting their lives on their own. And though the jeans they shared are long gone, the sisterhood is everlasting.
Despite having jobs and men that they love, each knows that something is missing: the closeness that once sustained them. Carmen is a successful actress in New York, engaged to be married, but misses her friends. Lena finds solace in her art, teaching in Rhode Island, but still thinks of Kostos and the road she didn't take. Bridget lives with her longtime boyfriend, Eric, in San Francisco, and though a part of her wants to settle down, a bigger part can't seem to shed her old restlessness.
Then Tibby reaches out to bridge the distance, sending the others plane tickets for a reunion they all breathlessly await. And indeed, it will change their lives forever--but in ways that none of them could ever have expected.

My Confession: I couldn't pick this book up fast enough. First of all, I didn't know for months that it even existed. After reading Forever in Blue, the final book in the Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants series, I thought these characters were done. I'd seen the movies, lamented their abbreviation of three-books-into-one method, and made peace with the characters I'd grown up reading. I'd accepted their ending. I was okay with where they were. It made sense to me. I moved on.

And then this book happened.

I wasn't ready for what I was about to read in these pages. All I knew was that I wanted to read about Carmen, Bridget, Lena, and Tibby one more time. I loved these girls. I, myself, am one of four friends who've managed to stay close after high school. I could identify with Lena's shyness, Bridget's occasional depression, Tibby's need to create something bigger than herself, and Carmen's compassion and maternal desire to keep everyone together. I was excited knowing that this book would take place ten years after the fourth book, putting all four women close to their thirtieth birthdays. I'm hedging on 22, so I can't say that I can relate completely, but I expected them to have stayed mostly the same. Characters so deeply ingrained in the hearts and minds of girls everywhere couldn't have changed much, right?

Wrong: I was so wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong. There were moments where I felt like I didn't know these girls at all. Bridget was still restless? I couldn't believe that at almost 30, she was still poised to throw away her life with Eric (who she spent the entire series chasing, losing, loving, gaining, and taking for granted) to become the "wild child" she'd been at 16. For some reason, my tolerance for her antics reached a breaking point. I know it sounds cliche, but during her part of the narrative, I shook the book and wanted to yell grow the eff up! numerous times. Even worse, Carmen, the girl I probably related to the most throughout the series, was utterly unrecognizable. Now a big-shot actress, she's engaged to a decade-older, bald, cold-fish man who's everything the hopelessly romantic Carmen who fell in love with Win would never have given a second look. She's forced her voluptuous Latin body into a size 0, talks down to her mother, seems burdened by her newly-widowed father, and acts like a selfish, self-centered beeyotch. I hated her. And then I hated myself for hating her. She'd been my favorite. But, in this book, I didn't know her.

The only one who stayed the same was Lena. Lena, Lena, Lena. Still lamenting over never getting together with Kostos, which is, of course, her fault. She continually ignored his numerous overtures until, understandably, Kostos threw in the towel. But never fear! This star-crossed couple isn't finished. It was mildly satisfying to watch Lena grow something resembling a spine, and Kostos is as gentle and giving as he always was. But while the other two girls seemed forcibly altered, it was Lena who could have used the aging. She was still trapped in her nineteen-year-old mentality. Her insecurity, like it does in the previous books, gets old very quickly.

And then there's Tibby, the whole reason I cried continuously throughout this book. I won't tell you why--it's too big a spoiler. [If you want to know what happens but don't want to pick up the book, contact me and we can chat.] I was angry at Ann for changing the dynamic between the friends this drastically, in this particular way. I'm not sure that it was necessary. I felt a certain detachment from this book that I hadn't felt from the previous four. Maybe it was because I wish many of the events in the book hadn't occurred  or more importantly, that they hadn't occurred to these four people. I loved them too much. I was too attached. I wanted their futures bright, happy, open. This book wasn't where I pictured them ending up.

Recommendation: I won't be able to stop you from picking this book up if you've read the previous four and are just itching to read more. That's what led me to this purchase. It's what led me to crack the cover even though I had a feeling of trepidation. Just let me warn you: if you're looking for the girls you grew up with, you won't find them here. Not really. There are glimpses, cracked windows into the adults that could be the Sisterhood all grown up. The story is dark, the plot a vacuum that leaves you feeling drained, sad, and tired. It wasn't the future I wanted for them. In some ways, a few ends were tied up nicely. But there's a hole--a big, gigantic one--that forms in this book, and it's never filled. I ended up feeling a disconnect from this book entirely, and it felt like a stand-alone novel with characters who only happened to be named Bridget, Lena, Tibby, and Carmen. Read it if you can't stop yourself. Stop yourself if you're happy with the ending that Forever in Blue leaves you with. That's how I'd rather remember those girls: giddy, fun, close, and ready for the future.

Rating: 2.5/5

368 pages, published by Random House (June 14, 2011)

Love Walked In

Written by Marisa de los Santos


Goodreads Synopsis: When Martin Grace walks into the hip Philadelphia coffee shop Cornelia Brown manages, her life changes forever. Charming and debonair, the spitting image of Cary Grant, Martin sweeps Cornelia off her feet, but, as it turns out, Martin Grace is more the harbinger of change than the change itself. Meanwhile, on the other side of town, eleven-year-old Clare Hobbes must learn to fend for herself after her increasingly unstable mother has a breakdown and disappears. Taking inspiration from famous orphans (Anne Shirley, Sara Crewe, Mary Lennox, and even Harry Potter) Clare musters the courage to seek out her estranged father. When the two of them show up at Cornelia's cafe, Cornelia and Clare form a bond as unlikely as it is deep. Together, they face difficult choices and discover that knowing what you love and why is as real as life gets.


My Confession: I almost didn't finish this book. And I say that about close to no books. Ever. That's how slow this story started off. At one point, probably around page 100, I closed the cover, flopped back on my bed, and exasperatingly exclaimed to my roommate, "I just can't get into this book. It's disappointing." She, also a reader, had the good sense to make sympathetic clucking noises. However, being the bookaholic I am, I refused to totally give up on this book. I stuck it back on my shelf and resolved to come back to it. Which I did, of course. And the middle-to-end of the book was significantly better than the beginning. I could appreciate all the references to Philadelphia, seeing as how that's where I'm from, and not nearly enough books take place in the City of Brotherly Love. I also really like the name Cornelia. The character, on the whole, had a strong voice throughout, breaking out of her narration often to address her readers directly. However, this didn't totally work for me. Even though her voice is there, I was left feeling rather muddled about her character. Maybe she was too strong. But I had a hard time identifying and understanding this tiny person, who I couldn't picture to save my life and whose personality seemed so contrasting at times. 


And don't even get me started on Martin. Or their relationship. Not real. Not even close. I never believed it, never liked it, never felt it. As the book and plot progressed, you'd believe that perhaps their wooden interactions were purposeful, but my gut tells me they weren't. I had a hard time picturing him too, even though Cornelia kept likening him to Cary Grant. Considering their relationship pretty much opened the book, perhaps that's why I couldn't get into the story. Something about it seemed off. Not genuine. 


Skirting Issues: While I finally felt invested close to the end of the book, I noticed that a few major issues were being brought up: alcoholism, abuse, child abandonment, bipolar disorder, and death. I appreciated the different dimension these problems brought to what would have been a saccharine love story otherwise. But I was disappointed that these issues were never investigated or explored more. They were introduced and then swept away just as quickly. It was almost like they were added to give the story depth, but the author didn't really want to get into the stickiness of what they entailed. I was left with the feeling that those harder-hitting plotlines were a supporting cast instead of a lead. In the end, the story felt disjointed between hopeless romanticism and sad uncertainty. Blend them, and you've got a fantastic and moving book. Run them parallel to each other, never intersecting, and you've got a recipe for confusion and disjointedness. 


My Recommendation: I don't know. A part of me liked the book. I felt pleasant after reading it. I believed the second love story more than the first (you'll know what I mean when/if you read this). The character of Clare may be the best reason I have for recommending this book. She was the most consistent voice throughout, and I enjoyed her perspective on the more adult things going on around her; half the book is told from her perspective, a smart move, especially since I found Cornelia a tad annoying, even shrill, at times. Is it a cute story? Sure. Will it take you a while to get invested? Yup. But I'm not sorry I stuck it out. There are a few sweet moments in here that just might make the whole read worth it.


Rating: 3/5


307 pages, published by Plume (Dec. 29, 2005)

This is Where I Leave You

Written by Jonathan Tropper


Goodreads Synopsis: The death of Judd Foxman's father marks the first time that the entire Foxman family--including Judd's mother, brothers, and sister--have been together in years. Conspicuously absent: Judd's wife, Jen, whose fourteen-month affair with Judd's radio-shock-jock boss has recently become painfully public.
Simultaneously mourning the death of his father and the demise of his marriage, Judd joins the rest of the Foxmans as they reluctantly submit to their patriarch's dying request: to spend the seven days following the funeral together. In the same house. Like a family.
As the week quickly spins out of control, longstanding grudges resurface, secrets are revealed, and old passions reawakened. For Judd, it's a weeklong attempt to make sense of the mess his life has become while trying in vain not to get sucked into the regressive battles of his madly dysfunctional family. All of which would be hard enough without the bomb Jen dropped the day Judd's father died:  she's pregnant. 


My Confession: I was first drawn to this book because of the cover. It's not just colorful--it's textured. I'm all for tactile stimulation (which is perhaps why I'll never warm up completely to ebooks), so the sensation of this book in my hands felt about as authentically literary as you can get. Before I even read the summary on the back, I was sold. And once I cracked the pages, I was hooked. Tropper has one of the most fantastic literary voices I've ever read. He's witty, sardonic, self-deprecating, wry, and intuitive, and because of this, he draws us in to his multi-faceted character and the complicated, tangled mess that is his life. After the first page, I was invested. That kind of writing takes incredible skill.


Sitting Shiva: This book, structurally, takes place over seven days, but we're treated to Judd's romantic, scholastic, and familial history throughout the novel. We're thrown so deeply into his head that we feel his fears, his desires. His betrayals are our betrayals, his depression our own. I don't think this story could have been as moving without the first-person narration. Seeing the other characters through the filter of Judd's memories and experiences paints a fulfilling picture. In other words, I didn't need to know their side of the story; I knew and trusted my narrator enough to take his descriptions at face value. Again, a very difficult feat that Tropper does easily. Judd is such an incredibly flawed character, and his family is positively certifiable. What goes down during those seven days (and the past thirty-something years that lead up to the family sitting Shiva) proves the point that relationships, love, and--most importantly, memories--are imperfect. As Judd tries to work through the quicksand of despair that seems to come at him from all angles, he's forced to confront decades-long resentment and guilt. Most importantly, the reader is left with the notion that silence, and a lack of trust in those closest to you, never bodes well. Silence is not golden.


My Recommendation: Every single character in this novel is flawed. Every single one seems to have a secret, a battle, a cross to bear in some way. The way they're tied together makes for one insanely intricate novel. However, the pieces click together impossibly well, and the reader feels just as connected to those characters as Judd does. In fact, in the middle of this read, I felt like I had to physically pull myself out of Judd's skin when I'd put the book down--and I'm a girl. For the first time, I felt like I could relate to and understand a male narrator who, while a bit more dramatic, had worries, fears and doubts not unlike my own. My family is a lot less dysfunctional, but every family has problems somewhere. This is Where I Leave You doesn't bother to romanticize the kinds of relationships most people simultaneously treasure and long for. And that's precisely what makes it so special.


Rating: 4.8/5


339 pages, published by Dutton Adult (Aug. 6, 2009)