World Book Night 2013

On Tuesday the 23rd of this month, you may be surprised to have a friendly bibliophile offer you a free copy of one of their favorite books. No strings, gimmicks, or email sign-ups; just a free book. Take it, read it, and enjoy. Then pass it along. This, my friends, is the magic of World Book Night.

In more than 6,000 towns and cities across the US, and internationally as well, World Book Night is a great way to strengthen community, support literacy, and share amazing books. The focus of the program is to get engaging books out to people who normally don't read, and people choose their giving points accordingly. Some ideas that have been thrown around my neck of the woods are public bus stops, parks, cafes, and women's shelters, but schools, churches, farmers' markets and public parks are equally fair game. The message remains: read!

The 2013 World Book Night books include The Handmaid's Tale (Margaret Atwood), Fahrenheit 451 (Ray Bradbury, whose books were also featured as February in this year's Literary Pin-up Calendar), The Alchemist (Paulo Coelho, whose book is being given in both English and Spanish-language editions), Bossypants (Tina Fey), and Good Omens (Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman), among many others from various genres. I will be handing out copies of one of my favorites, Looking for Alaska by John Green. You can look here for a full list of the 2013 WBN books.

If you'd like to learn more about World Book Night, look up WBN events in your area, or even consider signing up to be a giver next year, you can visit the official website here. And should you be out and about on the 23rd, and be offered a book by a WBN giver, feel free to stop and talk to them. What do they love about this book? Why should you read it? What made them want to share this book? We're more than happy to chat!

Happy reading, everyone!

Book Review: "Icons" by Margaret Stohl

Kicking off her solo writing career after her success with Beautiful Creatures and its associated books, Margaret Stohl brings us Icons, the first in a new series.

Doloria de la Cruz has been raised in a small mission in the wilds of California. There is no electricity, no power of any kind. Not since The Day, when extraterrestrial invaders sent projectiles into the 13 largest cities on Earth, which produced electrical pulses that killed everyone around them instantly. Doloria survived, and she's about to find out why. On her 17th birthday, her mission home is attacked by Sympa troops and she is taken to the Embassy for reasons unknown to her. However it soon becomes clear that she, and three other teenagers, have something very special about them. Surrounded by Sympa soldiers, a sadistic "teacher," and with the constant threat of alien ships above them, Doloria and her companions uncover truths about themselves and their alien masters with the help of the Grass Rebellion leader, a kooky computer, and their own mysterious powers.

Stohl presents here an interesting take on the idea of alien invasion: faceless extraterrestrial overlords who allow human leaders to remain in power and govern their own cities within certain guidelines. By doing this, she primes her new books for intense political energy and surprise twists in alliances in the volumes to come. Additionally, the idea of using electricity to control humans is well thought out. Aliens allow and control power within the cities where humans can be monitored and put to work, but outside, any presence of electricity can be identified and its creators captured. Additionally, electricity can be used to control the human body itself, surging to cause heart attacks like what happened on The Day and forming a barrier to keep humans away from the objects that were dropped on the cities then.

While these ideas have a lot of potential, I feel that they failed to balance out what was lacking in other parts of Stohl's novel. The general idea is that the "Icon Children"'s extreme emotions are what allow their powers to manifest, but the reasons why emotion is powerful against the alien force is mentioned only once that I can remember in the entire text, and that in passing. Additionally, for having characters who channel such intense emotion, the book doesn't convey much in the way of feelings. It's a classic case of "telling" instead of "showing" the reader what's being felt, leaving me with the idea that Doloria experiences a certain emotion rather than making me feel that emotion myself.

Additionally, I feel like the middle part of the book was extremely static and just a little confusing. The companions are in the Embassy, but we don't really know what they're doing there. The interim offers the opportunity for them to find out valuable hidden information, and allows them to build up some relationships together, but it's not really clear if they're students, prisoners, soldiers, or what. Allusions are made to classes, but they seem to move about on their own schedule, but are accompanied by guards and occasionally undergo experiments. This period of stalled activity then explodes into the novel's conclusion, which seemed to me like it happened much too fast. Lots of intense, dangerous, amazing moments are taking place in the space of just a few paragraphs, when I feel like there should have been pages devoted to the characters' reactions, thoughts and feelings. A big opportunity was missed there by compressing an event that could have really drawn readers in instead of being glossed over and moving on to the end.

Icons is a good story concept, but the execution fell far short of what it had the potential to be. If you're willing to overlook sub-par storytelling in the event of an innovative story, then by all means, I recommend this latest from Margaret Stohl. It is my hope that the next book in the series will be able to shore up some of the weaknesses in this first installment. Look for Icons at your favorite local bookstore beginning in May of this year.

Book Review: "Falcon in the Glass" by Susan Fletcher

Fletcher adds to her repertoire of YA novels with this tale of a young would-be glass blower in Venice. The year is 1497, and Lorenzo is determined to overcome the dishonor of his assassinated father to become a glassblower in his own right. But nobody is willing help him learn. One night, in exchange for shelter, he buys the assistance of one of the Bird Children, social outcasts who have a strange connection with the birds that accompany them. This arrangement launches Lorenzo into a series of triumphs, revelations, and seemingly impossible situations to try and both save his family and the Bird Children who have come to rely on him.

The research that Fletcher did to accurately portray the life of a glassblower, down to the forbidden nature of leaving the small community, was really astounding and allowed her to create a very convincing depiction of the era. The settings are vivid and believable, as are the characters. Lorenzo is caught between wanting to follow his dream, needing to provide for his family, and protecting those who have come to rely on him, and his seeming helplessness in the face of the Council of Ten that governs Venice is well communicated.

While I very much liked Lorenzo's character (his growth over the course of the book is unmistakable, but not too sudden or without stimulus) I had a lot of questions about the Bird Children. Their special connection with their birds was never explained, although their back story was fleshed out a bit by the grandmother character. There was great potential for Letta to illuminate the nature of the Bird Children, but I felt let down by the fact that the only explanation from her was "we don't understand it either." I felt like a chance at some imaginative storytelling was overlooked here, and that detracted from the Bird Children as a group as well as individuals in context of the story.

Overall though, this book was a great read. It had compelling, believable conflicts, an interesting setting temporally as well as geographically, the characters were well written, and the arc was well balanced. I'd recommend this for either young teens or (even better) as a bedtime read-aloud. Trust me, you're never too old to share a book with someone you love.

Look for Falcon in the Glass, by Susan Fletcher, at your favorite independently-owned bookstore starting on July 9th. 

"Persepolis": My Two Cents on the Chicago Issue

Hopefully by now, you've heard at least in passing that on March 15th, the Chicago School District banned the graphic memoir Persepolis, by Marjane Satrapi, from its classrooms and libraries. Persepolis is Satrapi's memoir of growing up during a dangerous period of political unrest, Westernization, and discrimination during the Islamic Revolution in Iran. Satrapi tells her story of clashing cultures in graphic novel form, and yes, her story includes things like torture, a man urinating on another man, and images of exposed body parts. Because of these images the Chicago School District came to the conclusion that its students were not capable of handling the book, and banned Persepolis from its district (although since then it's backpedaled to only restrict its inclusion in the 7th grade curriculum. 8th and 10th grade curriculums are still up in the air).

The Chicago Teachers' Union, National Coalition Against Censorship, the Comic Book Legal Defense Fund, American Booksellers Foundation for Free Expression, Association of American Publishers, the PEN America Centre and the National Council of Teachers of English, among others, have spoken out against the ban of such a powerful work of literature. Many opposed to the ban argue that really, this is the perfect age at which students should be introduced to stories like Satrapi's, since they are the approximate same age as the protagonist, and may be facing some of the same struggles at a time when they are caught between childhood and adulthood and can often feel helpless, directionless.

Yes, I think that Persepolis belongs in the hands of readers young and old alike. But I also think that whether or not the book should be taught is too shallow a question to ask when there is a much bigger issue lurking just below the surface. I'm talking about facing some of life's most difficult situations and working your way through to a plan of action.

Teenagers, even young ones and "tweens," are smarter than you think. Immature, yes, but smart. They know what goes on in the world, about war and violence and discrimination and rape, no matter how much you think you've sheltered them, no matter how much you'd love to think they will never have to face any of these difficult things. It's there on the evening news, in video games and song lyrics, in popular tv shows. These kids know about these horrible things even if their parents or teachers never say a word about it. They know these things exist, but do they know how to handle them?

Books like Persepolis provide the perfect opportunity for open discussion about these harsh realities, and healthy ways in which to address them. Teachers can be trained to use stories like Satrapi's as valuable guides for critical thinking and situational analysis from a third-person perspective, guiding the students through the protagonist's struggles with an eye toward constructive problem-solving. Analysis of this could take place through open class discussions and exploratory writing exercises to identify positive and negative actions taken by the protagonist, the impacts of those actions, and how and how a student can or can't relate to what the protagonist is thinking and feeling.

By overcoming the cultural gag order on controversial issues in our public school systems, we can guide students in the direction of healthy decision-making to prepare them for when they face their own seemingly impossible situations. And this opportunity is not limited to using Persepolis. Sherman Alexie's The Absolutely True Story of a Part-Time Indian features a teenage boy who learns to view women as valuable individuals, instead of just sex symbols and objects of desire. It also includes a reference to masturbation. Speak, by Laurie Halse Anderson, depicts the struggle of a teenage rape victim as she tries to accept what happened to her and tell someone about it. It involves teen drinking, delinquency, and rape. But these are the realities of teens in the modern age, which is why they appear in so many YA authors' work.

Public schools, however, need to consider whether a book is going to offend their community. This is a major stumbling block for the "teaching the situation" approach that I've outlined here. Some parents may insist that their child is still in need of being sheltered from the world, and for those people I really have no polite or diplomatic response at the moment. For the rest, who are concerned about how the book in question is to be taught or whether a single reaction to that book is going to be forced upon a child, I suggest that this is an incredible opportunity to be involved in a child's education. Especially knowing that a student is going to be reading and talking about some emotionally tough subjects, a parent can really seize the moment to talk with their child and ensure that they are getting familial values and ethics out of the book. Communication with teachers, too, can reassure parents that the book is indeed being taught as a constructive tool for handling future life challenges. An open dialogue between parents and educators with the child's education at the center of everything? What could be better?

Additionally, a parent volunteering to openly talk with their child about rape, violence, discrimination, and other tough issues in books shows a child that they're interested in what the child thinks on those issues. By talking about drugs in, for example, Go Ask Alice, a parent signals to a child that they are a "safe" person to whom they can address questions or concerns not just about the book, but in real life as well. The topic of drugs, or where they can lead, is no longer a forbidden topic because that topic has been broached by the book.

This is my idealistic, ever-hopeful, rose-tinted vision of what our education system could be like someday. We're nowhere near to reaching it, but that doesn't mean someday it won't be possible. For the time being though we're still stuck in a rut pitting teachers against school districts over an image of male genitalia or the word "bitch." And students keep watching their shows, playing their video games, without knowing that it's okay to talk about the harsh realities pictured there. This isn't just about Persepolis: It's about how we approach our children, what we trust them to be able to handle responsibly, and who's going to step up and teach them how to make it through the tough parts of life. Right now in Chicago, it looks like the ones who are really suffering because of this book ban are the students. And I sincerely hope that this changes soon. 

Book Review: "Mr. Penumbra's 24-Hour Bookstore" by Robin Sloan

Archaic codes and cutting-edge technology collide in this present-day tale of espionage and adventure. After Clay Jannon takes a job at San Francisco's strangest bookstore, he becomes curious about the unusual customers who check out the large tomes from the back shelves at odd hours of the night. His curiosity leads him into secret cults, the technological omnipotence of Google, and possibly to true love and to the secret to eternal life?

I was really impressed by the initial subject of this book: the intersection of traditional book reading and the new advances in reading technology. As someone who works at this crossroads nearly every day (as part of the Village Books eTeam) this subject is of personal interest to me, and to many others with one foot in literature and the other in the computer age. Sloan does a great job of depicting the huge leap between traditional book reading and the new technology of e-readers. The speed with which these developments are being made is truly incredible, and most of us can't even imagine the true technological might of a company like Google or other companies behind many new reading methods.

While the story in "Mr. Penumbra's 24-Hour Bookstore" is full of old codes, new kinds of books, methods of reading and a simultaneous love for antiquity, it gets strange really quickly. While I loved the RPG references and cherished fantasy novel memories on the part of the protagonist, it got hokey with the advent of an actual secret society as part of the story. That plus the unsatisfactory culmination of the society's centuries-old mission combined to form a real letdown at the end of the story.

However, the research that went into the font, and the idea to use it as a basis for a business/secret society was truly inspired. It brought to mind another recent book, this one nonfiction, about the history of fonts and their creation. A little bit about "Just My Type" by Simon Garfield can be found here if you're interested.

I'd recommend "Mr. Penumbra's 24-Hour Bookstore" to people who are interested in the cutting edge of reading technology but who still have a fondness for good old paper books, especially if you don't mind a little bit of cheese in exchange for some really cool technology. If you share Jannon's memories of high school fantasy obsessions, that helps too. This novel is available now at your favorite local bookstore! Also, did I mention that the yellow books on the cover glow in the dark? Awesome.

Book Review: "The Silence of Bonaventure Arrow" by Rita Leganski

This is a beautiful story about a little boy endowed with a special ability that will save his family from their own painful secrets. Born without a voice, Bonaventure Arrow can hear everything, from the bayou grasses near his home in Bayou Cymbaline, to trees blowing in Arkansas, to penguins on the ice in Antarctica. But beyond that, Bonaventure can hear colors, feelings, faith; his mother's sorrow and guilt, his grandmother's shameful secrets, and his dead father speaking to him.  It is this special gift of hearing, combined with the help and guidance of a housekeeper who is more than she appears, that will allow Bonaventure to alleviate the pain of both the living and the dead.

The writing in this novel is superb, with creative descriptions of the sounds that might be made by things we cannot hear. For instance, the color red is described as sounding like trombones. The inventiveness in Bonaventure's communication, from extremely expressive facial expression when he is very small to learning sign and writing, is really something incredible. Additionally, the language in the story itself is beautiful as well as simple, creating the feeling of open affection for Bayou Cymbaline and its unique brand of southern culture. The words themselves, how they have been crafted together, is indicative of the characters' attitudes.

Religion, from voodoo and hoodoo to Catholicism and various revival churches, plays a large role in this story but skirts around the common problem of being preachy. Centered as it is in a place with such rich and varied cultural history, this novel takes full advantage of its location and Leganski does an incredible job of blending multiple religions and spiritual practices into (mostly) harmonious coexistence, focusing on their commonalities instead of their differences.

This book made me feel like a witness to something strange and beautiful happening to people outside of myself. I recommend this book to anyone who loves a creative story of monumental kindness and beauty and sweet selflessness that puts things back as they should be. Look for The Silence of Bonaventure Arrow, by Rita Leganski, in your favorite local bookstore starting in March of this year.

Book Review: "Calling Dr. Laura" by Nicole J. Georges

A few years ago I stumbled upon and enjoyed the first graphic memoir I ever read: "Fun Home," by Alison Bechdel. It remains a respected piece of queer literature about growing up to realize you are homosexual, and the challenges with both family and self-acceptance that a person in that situation can experience. Now Nicole J. Georges brings you the next generation in lesbian graphic memoirs with "Calling Dr. Laura."

Set in Portland, Oregon, Georges's book honors us with an honest look at her life and at her as a person: her anxiety about finding lasting love, questions about her paternity, being abused when she was a child, and her mother's cycles of emotional manipulation, anger, and affection. But these heavy topics are skillfully tempered by the presence of a real sense of humor and some pretty sweet moments. Georges seems to embrace the stereotypical image of a vegan, hipster lesbian living in Portland, as evidenced by her jokes about vegan food (peanut butter cups are the only reliable recipe in her vegan cookbook) and lesbian relationships ("What did the lesbian bring with her on the second date?"). There is also a lot of love for dogs and stray chickens that she lets into her life and her heart.

Part of what makes me think of this memoir as so honest is the open depiction of uncertainty with romance, family, and self-identity. But another aspect of that honesty that I really liked was the fact that Georges openly admits to listening to conservative advice radio shows, and enjoying them! This personality quirk turns out to be very important to Georges, forming a turning point in her life and underscoring the idea that being gay isn't as important as being a person.

I found the art in "Calling Dr. Laura" both enjoyable and interesting. It's done in black and white, with lots of shading. Depictions of memories and childhood experiences are drawn more simplistically, without lots of the gray tones that are evident in the rest of the story of her adult life. That adult life and more emotionally charged moments are done with more detail and more complex artwork, so that the more intense the moment, the more complex the drawings seemed to be.

The story ended a little bit abruptly for me, but Georges thoughtfully offers a q-and-a epilogue of sorts about the lack of closure for some of the issues presented in her story. If you love grapick memoirs, are looking to read your first one, or are interested in a good-hearted memoir that focuses more on family and self-acceptance than sexuality, I recommend "Calling Dr. Laura," by Nicole J. Georges. Look for it in  your favorite local, independently-owned bookstore as of last month.