YA Fiction: "Personal Effects" by E. M. Kokie

It's not easy, being a teenage guy. E. M. Kokie reminds us of this in her debut novel, "Personal Effects," which centers on the life of Matt Foster in what is probably one of the most difficult times of his life. On top of the normal problems of senior year in high school (like being totally in love with your best friend, learning to balance your mental and physical urges, and passing the last of your classes to graduate) add the trauma of having just lost your older brother on his last tour in Iraq.

TJ was Matt's hero, and with his mother dead and his father as emotionally unavailable as they come, he's left at a loss when it comes to coping. Until he goes through TJ's personal effects in secret, knowing that his father refuses to acknowledge that TJ is gone. There he discovers that TJ had a whole other life separate from both the Army  and his family, a life with someone special. In a last-ditch attempt to make sense of TJ's absence, Matt decides to disobey his father, his principal, and even his own reason to deliver TJ's last, unsent letter to the love of his life.

I didn't really understand what was going on to Matt, didn't really start to feel what it was to be him, until maybe midway through the story. But then again, I'm from a fairly liberal family without close relatives in the military. While I didn't understand on a personal level some of the things that Matt describes, like his father's mood swings and the physical abuse that he just tries to see as affection, I'm sure that it will resonate with someone whose situation better parallels the one in the book. It's a very visceral book, in an impressively convincing voice, considering that the author is a middle-aged woman and her protagonist a 17-year-old boy. Kokie isn't shy about dropping vulgarity or describing the *ahem* physical effects of feminine wiles. She does it all with a hint of humor and a grain of salt, and I found myself really caring about Matt and how things would or would not come together for him in the end.

I especially liked the play on words in the title of this work. "Personal Effects" can refer to TJ's belongings, which were sent home after his death and which started Matt's search for real closure. However, it also refers to the personal effects of TJ's death on different people, specifically Matt, their father, and TJ's lover. The two interpretations collide in the form of the unsent letter, and the personal effects that this personal effect causes.

Young adults today are living in a world that contains problems that weren't there just a few years ago. New technology, new wars, a whole new world gives rise to the need for new books to address these things in a way that can communicate to us what it feels like, and communicate to young readers that they are not alone. "Personal Effects" steps up to the challenge with all its gut-wrenching discovery of self and others. I'd recommend this to teenage guys, since it's "real" and not touchy-feely, but still deep and kinda tough to handle at times. It was also effective in showing me, someone without experience in a conservative military family, what the other side of the spectrum sees when it comes to war, politics and family.

E. M. Kokie's "Personal Effects" was released in September. Look for it at your favorite independently owned book store now. 

Historical Fiction: "The Art Forger" by B. A. Shapiro

Continuing the recent trend in art-themed novels is B. A. Shapiro's "The Art Forger," published by Algonquin Books. Shapiro's seventh book, this story centers around starving artist Claire Roth. Black-balled from the Boston art community because of a scandal three years ago, Claire makes  (very) modest living copying great works of art for an online reproduction company. When an old acquaintance from her pre-scandal days approaches her about copying a painting with questionable origins, Claire has to make a choice between her career and her personal integrity.

But wait, don't roll your eyes and walk away from this tired Right versus Wrong setup quite yet. Claire obviously chooses the "wrong" thing to do, otherwise there wouldn't be a story. But the Faustian (and, frankly, underwhelming) premise leads the reader on a merry chase through art history, forgers past and present, the finer legal points of art, and the established authority of "art experts." What looks like it might be a boring "learn your lesson" novel at the beginning is actually a lot more complicated, and rewarding, than it first appears.

In order to make all of these details and story lines fit together, though, there was some format finesse involved. Shapiro effectively intertwines three (connected) stories from three different time periods: the present, three years ago (the scandal), and in the late 1800's when Degas was still alive and painting. Not only are these distinct times clearly labeled at the beginning of chapters, they're done in different fonts and formats too, which is a nice touch.

The research that went into historical art forgers, painting techniques, nomenclature and practices featured in the novel is impressive. I learned a lot about different types of painting, different approaches to it and the mechanics of it as well, just by reading the details that were added to the text and story line. However, I'm sorry to say that this attention to detail seemed to backfire on occasion: when you spend so much time writing details into your text, your readers pay them more attention, so when you make a minor mistake (say, for example, he requirement of being fingerprinted to volunteer at a juvenile detention center) it jumps out.

Additionally, while the story's play was interesting, I'm sorry to say that the main character, in fact, was not. Aside from the tired cliche of the starving artist character, which is drenched in pained, labor-of-love desperation to not sell out, Claire Roth was one of those women who you just want to shake until their teeth rattle, then wash your hands of them because no matter how many mistakes they've made in the past, they just don't seem to have learned anything. You kind of start to think that maybe they actually deserve what they get when, somehow, their misguided decisions in love and life just keep turning out to be - well, bad.

I'd recommend this book to "mystery lite" lovers, as it's high on the suspense and discovery scales but lacks the grit of a lot of modern crime novels. It's also good for a book club or reading group, which is where I picked it up, because it seems like everyone can find something they enjoyed and something that irritated them about the story, and it's a different combination thereof for almost every individual. Look for "The Art Forger" now in the local bookstore of your choice.

Historical Fiction: "The Painted Girls" by Cathy Marie Buchanan

Historical fiction, in my experience, falls along a sliding scale of exactly how much of its content is fact, and how much has been created through artistic license on the part of the author. "The Painted Girls," Buchanan's second novel, is the result of much research into the life of a Parisian ballet girls painted by Edgar Degas.

Marie and Antoinette (the humor of the names in conjunction was not lost on me, although its purpose, if any, remained unclear) are sisters struggling to make ends meet with a deceased father, a drunken washerwoman for a mother, a ten-year-old sister, and debt ceaselessly threatening to drown them all. They see their salvation in the Paris Opera, where Antoinette has already lost her chance to become a ballerina, but Marie and little Charlotte may yet find their way onto the stage. This dramatic novel dips into the seedier side of the Opera, namely the realities of the girls who dance like gilded angels on the stage, and exactly what they have to do to get - and remain - there.

As I mentioned, Buchanan has obviously done a lot of research for this book. The Van Gothem girls really did exist, and Marie's character was the inspiration and model for "Little Dancer Aged Fourteen," a famous wax figurine by Degas. Additional characters, places, and incidents are gleaned from Parisian history, all of the same time period, and sources cited by the author in the book. It is all very involved and, frankly, quite impressive.

Also impressive is the manner in which Buchanan changes voice between the perspectives of Antoinette and Marie. The chapters alternate between these two characters, from their points of view, and it is instantly obvious to the reader when one character is changed for another. Through this language manipulation, not only words but perspectives, reactions, and opinions the sisters have of each other are cunningly used to convey the conflicts and struggles faced not only externally by the sisters, but internally as well. Love, loss, betrayal, self-doubt, passion and struggle: it's all here, from two different angles at once.

Although the book's conclusion was a little too tidy for me, one sister's turnaround a little too complete for me personally, its execution was wonderful and tied into the focal story line without obsessing about the time that had elapsed between the final chapters. And it's a happy ending, rewarding after following the characters through the immense number of challenges with which they struggle alone and together.

Look for "The Painted Girls" at your local bookstore starting January 10th, 2013.

Memoir/Environmental: "Into Great Silence" by Eva Saulitis

It is not often that a book published as a memoir focuses so little on the life of the author. Instead, "Into Great Silence" brings into sharp focus the life of the author in specific context of her research on the AT orca pod after the 1989 Exxon Valdez oil spill. It is a beautiful, heartbreaking story that galvanizes the reader to do something to help the damaged Alaska wilderness and, specifically, the orcas living there - only to then reveal that there is nothing left to be done.

Alaska's Prince William Sound is lovingly described with both the detail of a scientist and the emotion of someone who has been deeply touched on a spiritual level by that place. Her scientific findings about the AT pod that she studies are flawlessly balanced by tender emotion and very personal reactions to that which she observes, both in the destruction of the Sound and its healing.

This was an all-around beautiful book, and by the end of it I was bawling. Anyone who loves the precious fragility of life and the world in which we live will find something of value in this unique story. Saulitis has a gift for connecting the world of scientific exploration with humanity, so that we may all understand the significance of what we as a race are discovering.

"Into Great Silence" is slated for publication on January 15, 2013. If you are interested in a copy, which I think everyone should be, here is a link to the publisher's website: http://www.beacon.org/productdetails.cfm?PC=2284

YA Fiction: "Lovely, Dark and Deep" by Amy McNamara

Looking to steer a teenage female toward falling in love with a character who's neither vampiric, nor lupine? "Lovely, Dark and Deep" by Amy McNamara will do the trick, serving up enough romantic angst in this YA novel to satisfy even the moodiest of adolescent women.

To be fair, McNamara starts out with good intentions in this three-hundred-page dramafest. Her focus is on one of the hardest things that a young person can face at the critical point just after high school: the death of a loved one. Mixed up with that is the overwhelming question of "What are you going to do with your life?" which can make anyone, not just a traumatized teen, cringe. Sent into a tailspin by Life's cruel twists, main character Wren escapes to her father's art studio deep in the Maine wilderness. There, she tries to make sense of what happened to her and, more importantly, where she goes from there. Despite her endeavors to remain isolated from humanity, she soon finds herself in the company of Cal, another "runaway" with life-changing issues of his own. With their complementary strengths, it seems that they could have the power to help one another if they can get close enough.

McNamara's setup is promising, hinting toward a story of loss, recovery, and rebirth. Ah, if only. Alas, I feel that the author became a little too exuberant in her intention to make Wren overcome dramatic tragedies. Instead of completing her story arc, McNamara got to the center of the book and added another skeleton in Wren's closet. And then another. And then another. Instead of a good, solid story about the strength of a young person to overcome the untimely death of a loved one, "Lovely, Dark and Deep" also became about teen pregnancy. And divorce. And life-threatening chronic diseases. And parental pressures. And suicide. And depression. I could probably add some more subcategories to the list but I'll stop there. And yes, there really is a lot to feel and think about and avoid and cherish as a teenager, when your hormones have your emotions amped up to an eleven. But trying to tackle those things in all their varying forms in a single book was a mistake.

That being said, I was impressed with the writing style of the novel. It was innovative, written from Wren's perspective, in the clipped tones of someone who has just stopped caring about the world around her. She's snippy, sardonic, and wryly humorous in a way of which she as a character does not seem to be aware. This makes it just a little bit endearing, and when she finally does start to open up to people again (as we all know she must), Wren expresses honest amazement at the unbidden changes in herself. Her thoughts and feelings are communicated openly and without apology, in a very pleasing character voice.

The dramatic overdrive in this book was a bit much for someone who has moved past the teenage OMG WHY IS EVERYTHING SO HARD AND LIFE ISN'T FAIR AND NOBODY UNDERSTANDS ME phase. But in honesty, it's what some readers (read: teenage girls) need in order to feel like they're not alone, like someone understands how they're feeling, like life goes on and there is a way through. If there's someone like that on your holiday shopping list, consider this book a sort of potential release valve. Hey, at least Cal's not a romanticized vampire. Look for "Lovely, Dark and Deep" at your local bookstore starting October 16th. 

Self-Help: "8 Habits of Love" by Ed Bacon

There is a growing genre of self-help and spirituality books out there that blend different aspects of Eastern and Western thinking in order to help people find balance and meaning in their lives. "8 Habits of Love" is another book in that lucrative vein, written by Rector Ed Bacon of the famous All Saints Episcopal Church, which has a congregation of over four thousand people. Rector Bacon is also a frequent guest on the Oprah's Soul Series radio program and, to my dismay, decided to add "writer" to his resume with this book.

                While there are many, many good self-help books out there for all types of people, this is not one of them. From the very beginning (and I mean the beginning, like half way down the first page of the introduction) his writing made me feel like he was trying to sell something. Most of it started with testaments from People You Don't Know (as stated by Rector Bacon, not even in their own words) about how much Bacon's Habits of Love helped them, without smooth transitions between them so that they read almost as a list. I felt like I was reading a script for a 2 am. infomercial. You know, the kind where the actors are reading the teleprompter for the first time themselves?

                Also reminiscent of underfunded commercials was the way in which he kept hammering home each of his Habits. And I don't mean why they were important; I just mean repetition that "____ ('Generosity' for example) is important! Whee!" Half of what he spoke about in each chapter didn't even seem to be related to the Habit itself except in the most convoluted of ways, most of his stories centering around how enlightened he is and how he helped other poor, lost souls to really discover what it's like to be happy. There were some pearls in the book, I'll grant. But they didn't necessarily come from knowing and following his Habits (like the philosophy that "the universe is kind") and frankly, it's not worth wading through the muck of his book to find them. A Zen devotional would do a better job of it.

                Frankly, I felt like Rector Bacon, aside from his poor writing style, nonexistent transitions, and self-righteousness, was just trying to hop on the East-West Spirituality Wagon that's become so popular. I felt like "8 Habits of Love" was little more than a piggyback onto Buddhism's Eight-Fold Path. And while it is very true that Rector Bacon and his 8 Habits may have helped many people, his book at least does a god-awful job of communicating the lifestyle's potential. 

Historical YA Fiction: "A Thunderous Whisper" by Christina Diaz Gonzales

Around the time that the Nazis gained power in Germany, Spain was engaged in a brutal civil war that pitted traditionalists against progressives in a bloody conflict over the future of their country. "A Thunderous Whisper" is told by Anetxu, or Ani, a 12-year-old girl from the northern Basque region of Spain. The reader follows her and her new friend Mathias, a Jew, as they navigate life in the town of Guernica during some of its most significant days during the Spanish Civil War, and even become spies in an effort to support the progressives'  side of the war.

In this heartwrenching story of finding your identity when the world keeps shifting around you, Gonzales does an excellent job of integrating the important question of Basque culture and language into the novel. Words, phrases, and names appear in Euskera in a manner that allows the reader to understand what's being said while still observing the unique language of the Basque region. Ani struggles to define herself in context of the war, of her relationship with her sardine-selling mother and soldier father, and of her friendship with Mathias. In the midst of all this is the looming question of whether or not Ani really wants to be a part of history, or if she'd rather just remain quiet and unnoticed in the corners of life.

Reading level in this compelling story is relatively low, suitable for beginning YA readers, but this leaves the complexity of Ani's situation and the observations that she makes undiminished. Throughout the book she compares her life to a film (cinema was very new at the time). This adolescent fascination with the movies combined with the numb, third-person perspective of watching your life play out on a screen is a perfect way to capture how Ani seems to feel, living where and when she does. Gonzales did an amazing job capturing the entirely believable thoughts and emotions of a young girl forced to grow up too soon by an absent father and a mother as bitter as only a single wartime provider can be.

You don't have to be a Spanish history buff to read this book. I highly recommend it to anyone who fell in love with the film "Pan's Labyrinth" as I did, or enjoys reading the too-old-for-his-age narrative of Oskar in Jonathan Safran's novel "Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close." Look for it this October at your bookseller of choice.