Buy These Books! Or Else! –The Monstrumology Series

This blog was originally going to be a lament about the loss of one of the most literary YA series to grace the shelves of bookstores and classrooms this decade, The Monstrumologist series by Rick Yancey. Earlier this month, the series was cancelled by Simon & Schuster, and Yancey spoke about his disappointment on Leila Roy's Bookshelves of Doom blog. Then Stephanie Oakes from her Stephanie Reads blog started a campaign to save the series. Less than a week later, Simon & Schuster announced they would publish the fourth book, supposedly the last in the series (come ON Rick, PLEASE don’t stop…).

In anticipation if the third book, “The Isle of Blood”, it is time for those of you out there who love quality YA fiction to go out and buy the first two books anyway you can, and show up in HOARDS on Sept. 13 and buy “The Isle of Blood”. There is a lot of “buzz” out there about this series, but “buzz” obviously does not keep books in print, buying books does. I buy books all the time, from Barnes & Noble, several used bookstores where I live, and even Goodwill. I flood my classroom with books that matter (and some honestly, some that don’t). This fosters a culture of reading in the classroom that is second to none. I have five copies of “The Monstrumologist” in my classroom, and two at home. I loved “The Curse of the Wendigo” too, and have shared my personal copies with students who couldn’t wait for the library to get them in stock.

There is just enough of everything in the Monstrumologist series to make it cross over several genres, making it appealing to a broad group of readers. Speculative fiction has probably the broadest umbrella, but this is definitely for the horror/thriller aficionado, historical fiction fan, it has elements of steampunk and is deep in detail and grand in scope. This is a book written by a man, with male leads, that appeals to a male (and female) audience, and is challenging. If you are a fan of Young Adult Literature (and this IS literature) you MUST make room on your shelf for this amazing series. If you have “The Hunger Games” on your shelf, good for you, it’s great. Now, slide it over and make room for the Montrumologist series.

Monstrumology has been saved, for now. Make sure it stays that way, and in print, buy the books! Heck, buy the ebook, too! Tell your friends! Drive them to the store on Sept. 13th! Because if you don’t we’ll just be stuck with dreck that can be cranked out by plot engines, composed by computers and tapped out in ebook form, with someone’s “name” on it but no author required. There is a reason the industry is downsizing and book sellers are going bankrupt. Here is your opportunity to say, “Not today!”

A Case for "Exit Here"

Sex, drugs, and rock and roll—a few of the cornerstones of realistic young adult literature. Now throw in a good portion of porn, rape, murder and a cast of callus, delinquent (even criminal) characters that have no respect for themselves or others—yes, we are still talking about young adult fiction. All of these, and more, can be found in Exit Here (2007), by Jason Myers.

So what could possibly be the value of having a book like Exit Here on the young adult classroom or library shelf?

Myers tackles some of the traditional themes of the young adult novel: searching for self, redemption, learning right vs. wrong, the price of knowledge, and taking responsibility for ones actions. Exit Here is overly sensational, gritty, and probably would be improved by being whittled down by about 100 pages. But the scary, drugged-up, dangerous world that Myers creates is by default, sensational. The reader is lured into this scary world with the hope that something good will happen; that these characters will realize that tweaking on cocaine, date rape, violence and generally hating life has got to come to an end eventually, even if it comes at a costly price. Fortunately there are a few bright spots at the end of Exit Here but like in life, there is not always a happy ending for everyone. Isn’t that a good lesson, too?

There are attempts at literary writing in Exit Here, and a few motifs are present. With the washing/water motif; Travis Wayne regularly attempts to “wash away” his guilt of a crime the reader doesn’t quite know about, but is known to be lurking in the recent past. When he has difficulty dealing with his emotions, he swims to exhaustion in his affluent family’s backyard pool. He ex-girlfriend works at The Waterfront restaurant, and he takes her to the shores of “the biggest lake in the state” for a romantic weekend, only for the water to be too cold to swim. Soon, he realizes that it is impossible to reclaim the past, and “good girl” Claire helps Travis to realize that there is a price to pay for living the way he has lived and he has to “come clean” the right way. The reader works through the torrid conclusions of Travis’s relationships with every character, each one more horrific than the last. The other strong motif is that of the loss of innocence associated with landmarks and buildings. Laura Kennedy lost her virginity to Travis in a playground. That same playground is set for demolition, and Travis convinces his father to donate the property to the city he even returns there in a vain attempt to stop the loss of his reality. There are also the images of the abandoned elementary school, the closing of the Victoria Theatre, and of course the decrepit, abandoned Last Chance Motel.

Myers is not didactic in Exit Here, and the reader is left to make many of the leaps in judgment all on his or her own. Almost every character in the book essentially asks if there is redemption, even for bad people who have done really bad things. Travis asks, “Don’t you think you can right your wrongs?” (74) Laura Kennedy asks, “Do people deserve a second chance?” (174), Claire asks, “Do you think I am a good person?” (204) and finally Natalie claims the answer to these questions, “We all get what we deserve” (320). Self loathing is prevalent in the text, and in several instances characters come right out and admit that they hate themselves. Travis admits it regularly. If he felt fine about his actions, and those of his “friends”, readers would also hate him. But he is changing. This holds the story together, and the reader’s interest, knowing (hoping) that there will be a comeuppance for many of the characters.

Early in the novel, Michael tells Travis, “I’ve watched you spend your whole life not feeling bad about anything you have ever done” (49). By the end, readers know the intimate and hidden details of Travis’s sordid life, and await the reckoning that his actions require and his own realization of redemption.



Beyond Titillation: Sexuality and the Young Adult Novel

2010 Young Adult Literature Symposium

Beyond Titillation: Sexuality and the Young Adult Novel
Contemporary young adult literature provides a vast range of representations of young adults as sexual beings. Books like these intimately show the feelings and experiences of evolving adults and acknowledge the emotional and physical worlds contained within sexuality. The place of sexuality in YA literature can be controversial for adults attempting to understand authors’ intentions in crafting books that depict emotional and physical boundaries. This session explores the place of sexuality in YA literature and the role of the author, librarian, teacher, parent, and student reader. Presenters: Jason Kurtz, Dr. Nicholle Schuelke, and Jamie Kallio.

"My Sword Hand is Singing" the Praises of the Nook...

I have been looking forward to reading something by Marcus Sedgwick for quite a while.  A galley copy of My Sword Hand is Singing has been on the top of the "To Read" stack but I just hadn't picked it up.  Then I bought a Nook, the e-reader from Barnes & Nobles.  I decided to combine these two enterprises, and read My Sword Hand is Singing on the Nook.  What a pleasant surprise, on both fronts.  The Nook was easy to use and navigate, and after about the tenth page, I barely noticed I was reading an digital book.

I was greatly surprised and delighted at the complexity and historical accuracy of Sedgwick's novel.  The strange vampire legends that Sedgwick cobbles together make for a compelling read.  The book is fresh in this time of vampire tripe and a quick read, yet had a very grounded feel to it.  The Gothic setting and authentic atmosphere adds an element of anxiety  for the reader, and an urgency to the plot.  Frankly, it reminded me of Michael Cadnum's The Book of the Lion, in the way the fantasy/historical fiction aspect of the novel is appealing, and are not wrapped up in the tropes of the genre.

Getting the Eternal Sunshine Girl

During the few days I was reading “Getting the Girl” by Markus Zusak, I happened to watch the film “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind” written by Michel Gondry, Charlie Kaufman and Pierre Bismuth.

The similarities are amazing. Both protagonists, Cameron Wolfe and Joel Barish are quiet, reserved individuals who escape into their journals to find meaning in their lives. Both characters fall in love with alternative style girls, Octavia and Clementine respectively, and the stories are interwoven with Neo-surrealist imagery and poetic language.

The “words” that Zusak uses at the end of each chapter exude a strangeness that is poetic and surreal. From page 171: “I imagine myself in a room, where some / shattered pieces are strewn on the floor, / in front of me. […] These pieces on the ground. / Are made of me.”

I really think Zusak’s book would make a great teen movie, especially if a director wove in some of this imagery. It would definitely take the teen movie to new levels, which is something the genre desperately needs. Gondry handled it masterfully in “Eternal Sunshine” and even incorporated images and words from Joel’s journal into the fabric of the narrative.

Wouldn’t it be great to take a great piece of YA literature like “Getting the Girl” and then making it into a cutting edge YA film?

Great book, great film.

Review - 33 snowfish - Adam Rapp

The Blurb: On the run in a stolen car with a kidnapped baby in tow, three kids with deeply troubled pasts and bleak futures struggle to find a place for themselves. They will never be able to leave the past behind. Yet for one, redemption is waiting in the unlikeliest of places.

With the raw language of the street and lyrical, stream-of-consciousness prose, Adam Rapp hurtles the reader into a world of lost children, a world that is not for the faint of heart. Gripping, disturbing, and starkly illuminating, his hypnotic narration captures the voices of two damaged souls - a third speaks only through drawings - to tell a story of alienation, deprivation, and ultimately, the saving power of compassion.

Opening Line: "On top of everything else, Boobie's got the clap."

The Review: “33 snowfish” is at the literary pinnacle of YA fiction. This is a novel that really takes to task some of our expectations about humanity. Physical and sexual violence are part of the lives of these characters, and it is told with brutal honesty and without a hint of sentimentality. He just tells it like it is for the characters he has created: A patricidal arsonist (age 17), a drug addicted prostitute (age 14), and an emotionally damaged former kidnap victim (age 10).

Rapp’s poetic (and often visceral) writing is peppered across every beautiful page and adds so much depth and lyricism to the text that one can get lost in a poetic turn of phrase and almost forget the horrible acts these characters are suffering through and participating in.

I have had a few days to think about this book, and I am still in awe. Rapp understands how to weave realism and lyricism together in a way that is unprecedented. I am saddened that this book has not received more acclaim, it deserves it. One can only assume that because of its violent content and risqué subject matter, it was quietly passed over as a contender for the major awards. This book appealed to me as a writer, and also as a reader.

Something Extra: Adam Rapp and Chris Lynch were interviewed in ALAN magazine by Ann Angel. They discuss violence in YA literature, and the importance of realism in YA fiction.

The Bottom Line: This is one of the best examples of what literary YA fiction CAN be. One of those books where you read it and just think, “Gosh, if only I could write like that…”.

Grade: A+

Exploring the Uncanny Valley of “9”

The film “9” directed by Shane Acker was one of the most innovative films of 2009, maybe of recent history. With stunning visual effects and a style that was unique and creative, “9” instantly gained a place in my Film Criticism class, just on visuals alone. But something really intrigued (or bothered) me about “9”. The Uncanny Valley.

The Uncanny Valley is a theory that holds that “when robots and other facsimiles of humans (homunculi) look and act almost like actual humans, it causes a response of revulsion among human observers. The "valley" in question is a dip in a proposed graph of the positivity of human reaction as a function of a robot's lifelikeness.” Basically the Uncanny Valley is when a non-human object takes on human characteristics and either performs them so poorly as to appear garish and unreal, or too well causing an uncomfortable feeling of all too familiarity. It is easy to understand the Uncanny Valley. Compare R2-D2 to Wall-E. Which seems more human? I’d have to argue for Wall-E as he has more “human” qualities. Now compare Wall-E to a Terminator…

In the film “9” we have what Acker calls “stitchpunk” characters that are made up of burlap sack like material and clockwork gears. There are nine characters all together, and *spoiler alert* they are comprised of fractions of the Scientist’s soul (he was their creator, and one of the last living humans). Because these little creatures are imbued with human spirit, they act and behave as fractions of that spirit. It makes one think when boiled down to bare essentials, what are we? One of the more disconcerting scenes is when the burly and brutish character with the designation of “8” is deriving some kind of pleasure from running a magnet over his head. Whether it was like a drug, or sexual in nature, we as an audience quickly learn it was a bad idea, because “8” does not survive the next five minutes. But of all the dystopic scenes throughout the film, Armageddon, skeletons, Matrix-esque robot killers and so on, this scene seemed to disturb me the most. Also the scenes with “6”, the demented artist portion of the group, were also specifically creepy. I think it is due to the fact that these characters are doing some very human things.

Films like “9” can be inspiring for writers because the world of “9” is so rich, that our imaginations begin to fire on all cylinders. But also, the little things, like getting high from a magnet, can make us really consider Character, and how our characters are illustrated and portrayed in our own work. What basic human needs are being fulfilled? Denied? When you see something “uncanny” or disconcerting, it might be wise to explore those feelings, name them, and write them into our work.