Keertana @ Ivy Book Bindings

I never thought I'd say it, but there definitely IS such a thing as being too strong. Both Lily and Alex, the leads of this historical romance, are simply too stubborn and too closed off from the world to make for entertaining characters. If anything, their constant bickering grated on me and got old quickly. After all, the sexual tension is prevalent, but the dialogue goes in circles. Now, to make it clear, this isn't a bad book at all, but it's just not one for me. I'm tired of the push-and-pull romantic scenarios with both leads tortured. It's exhausting.

In life, there are always those books you just know you're going to read, no matter what; maybe it's written by your favorite author or it came highly recommended by a trusted reviewer or maybe the cover is just too pretty to resist. And then there are the books you read because you're curious; because a certain review sparked your interest or the author said something remarkable in an interview or the cover flashed by your vision and you couldn't stop thinking about it. For me,All the Truth That's In Me falls into the latter category. Needless to say, this novel took me by surprise, but in all the best ways. While I began this novel with trepidation - after all, it is full of Things That Shouldn't Work - I closed it with the awed expression of a reader whose expectations have been blown sky high.

Things That Shouldn't Work (But Did!)

1. Second Person Narration
Only three years ago, a friend and I wrote a short story together. It was an intense, psychological piece about two friends - one German and one Jewish - whose friendship was ripped apart by WWII. Nothing unique, except for the fact that it was written in second person. (A decision our teacher didn't condone at all, so we were forced to revert to third person, though I believe our second person version is still lying around somewhere in the depths of my e-mail folder.)

Quite simply put, second person narration doesn't work for a lot of people, both readers and writers. It's tricky, it's frustrating, and at times unnecessarily complicated. Thus, to see Berry execute it with such ease, poise, and sheer talent is nothing short of brilliant. All the Truth That's In Me works as a letter, of sorts, from Judith to her childhood lover, Lucas. Judith, at fourteen, was kept captive in the woods, but is sent back, years later, with her tongue cut off. Unable to talk and thought to be cursed by her small Puritan town - including her own mother - Judith learns to live in silence. Her second person narration works seamlessly with her story line, conveying the horror of her cruel past, the isolation of her present, and the bleakness of her future. Moreover, it is strangely intimate, allowing us to see Judith in both her strongest and weakest lights. Ever since she was a young girl, Judith has been in love with Lucas, and with her directly speaking to him, so much of her nature seeps through these pages - her loyalty, fierce love, and even obsessiveness. It's a truly wise decision that enables us, the reader, to understand Judith on a much deeper level, practically crawling into her thoughts.

2. Puritans
I feel as if it's an unspoken rule that only Nathaniel Hawthorne can pull off the Puritans. (And, let me make it very clear, I love The Scarlett Letter like I love The Great Gatsby, so believe me when I say I'd kill to have written that book.) While the precise setting of All the Truth That's In Me is not given, it is clear that the novel takes place in a historical era, one where pilgrims have only recently escaped religious persecution, are required to attend church every Sunday, and live by rigid moral laws. If that doesn't practically spell "Puritan" then I don't know what does.

While I really enjoyed this setting while reading the novel, I thought - extensively - about how the story would have been different in modern-day society. Why does an author make the decision to anchor a novel in a certain time period after all, especially when the events in this book - kidnapping, estrangement, societal mistreatment - could have happened today too? I think the beauty of this novel lies in the answer to that question. From the surface, the cruel punishments Judith bears upon her return - the blame for her father's death, a stigma as a whore, complete estrangement by former friends - can be attributed to the rigidity of the morals the Puritans lived by. After all, in a society with much looser morals, mightn't have Judith's homecoming have been a different experience? Maybe, but maybe not. What this Puritan setting does so well is emphasize the inherent evils visible in humans, and that faint line drawn between black and white becomes all the more hard to see set against this time period. Berry paints depicts this morality question beautifully, creating complicated relationships that can claim no simple label. I love that Judith shares so many different types of relationships - with her mother, with her brother, with her friends - but they all contain aspects of this time period and are deliciously ambiguous when it comes to the question of morality. Moreover, I love my historical fiction, so details of Judith's struggle in this century only made her story more authentic.

3. Childhood Romance
I know I struggle with love stories - namely, their believability - but childhood romances practically never work for me. I find that authors seem to take it for granted that the duration of time these characters have known each other should equate love. It doesn't, but thankfully Berry doesn't fall into that trap. Very carefully, she builds a contrast between Judith's love for Lucas as a child, and then as an adult. I particularly love how true to age Berry remains, showing us the naivety of a girl's dreams and then the truth of a woman's reality. Now, after her ordeal, Judith returns to see Lucas gearing up to marry the town belle and, as such, her love changes. It remains, constant and true, no matter what, but it also slowly acknowledges that Lucas is not the paragon of perfection that she's built him up to be. One of my favorite aspects of this novel is that Judith's growth and maturity is so closely tied with the romance; that the most important lesson she learns is to fall in love with the truth - of her past, of her deformity, and of love. Just the fact that Judith is able to eventually come to love Lucas despite - and maybe for - his flaws makes their love story all the more realistic and durable. It isn't an easy journey, but it is certainly a rewarding one.

4. Maiming & Disabilities 

I recently read this incredibly detailed post about diversity - or the lack of it - in YA. And while All the Truth That's In Me doesn't necessarily involve non-white characters, it does feature a protagonist who is maimed. Judith's speechlessness is derived from her own physical barriers, unlike most heroines, which makes this novel fall into 2.9% of novels in 2013 with disabled characters. Normally, this fact would probably remain rather unremarkable. After all, many novels feature secondary character with disabilities and, either way, Judith's inability to speak is an enormous plot device. And yet, Berry truly give this issue so much more depth. Not only does Judith work at regaining her ability to speak fluently, but she feels - constantly - the unfairness of her circumstances. 

"Will I help him make something of his life? Who will help me? Why does everyone presume that I, as damaged merchandise, forfeit any claim to happiness? That I expect nothing, have no ambitions or longings of my own? When was it agreed that my lot would be to gladly serve as a prop and a crutch for others who are whole?" (Berry, 53%)*

Instead of her disability making her the center of attention, Judith is pushed into the very corners of thought, her silence taken for granted as acquiescence. Essentially, her speechlessness makes her come across as a woman with no thoughts or opinions of her own. I love that Berry touched upon these ideals, only because they weren't ever ones I would have considered and this is precisely why I read: to be introduced to new ways of thinking.

 

5. A "Pinhole" Plot

I've heard this novel being described as a "pinhole" one, or one in which the entirety of the story is revealed as the book wears on. Well, let me tell you now, these "pinhole" methods never work for me. Never. I have no patience for authors who tantalizingly dangle answers just out of my grasp, so color me surprised to find myself flipping through the pages of this novel gleefully - "pinhole" storytelling and all. What Berry does, that most authors don't, however, is reveal pieces of information in a timely fashion. It is evident, from early in the story, who Judith's kidnapper is. And yet, the full details of her ordeal are never revealed until the end. Instead, small flashbacks litter the narration, working beautifully to weave mystery and thrill into this otherwise seemingly romantic tale. While I remain a fan of the slow, languid prose used in this novel, not to mention the character-driven plot focus, I am sure that not all readers will agree. And yet, I felt as if these purposeful decisions only worked to strengthen the plot, making us care for these characters and drown in seas of emotion. I know that by the end of this book, I was gripping the edge of my chair, unsure whether or not to laugh or cry or scream. And I love that build-up of tension, that slow unraveling of mystery, and the eventual - realistic - conclusion of a well-told tale.

 

All the Truth That's In Me truly hit all the right notes, at least in my book. Not only did it take a myriad of challenging qualities (see above) and make them work, but it also took the essentials I look for in a good story - characters with depth, thriller plot lines, and emotional undertones - and excelled in those areas as well. While I've never read any of Berry's past novels, you can be sure that I will - eagerly - be checking out her future YA works. After I own this beautiful hardcover on my shelves, that is.

 

You can read this review and more on my blog, Ivy Book Bindings.

Rating: 4.5 StarsAbsolutely adorable! "You've Got Mail" is my favorite movie of ALL TIME, so of course a novel with e-mails was going to hit all the right notes with me. I really do think this is Rowell's best, only because it manages to be cute, engaging, and realistic. I love Lincoln's adulthood crises, Beth and Jennifer's friendship, their relationships and where they find themselves in life. ATTACHMENTS is an ode to the complications of adulthood, right alongside the good times. Is the ending a little too abrupt? Yes, definitely. Are aspects of this story a bit too chick-lit? Maybe. I loved it regardless, though. :)Full Review to Come Soon...!

I think this is possibly my new favorite contemporary novel. Ever. I've enjoyed two of Manning's books prior to this one - though my ratings may not completely reflect that - but this is by far my favorite of hers. While all her stories are compulsively readable, impossible to drag out as they consume your life so completely, this one was utterly flawless. In fact, I just want to take the day off tomorrow, snuggle under the covers, and re-read this from cover to cover. It's that good. I just don't know how I'm going to possibly get over my book hangover from this one now...Full Review to Come Soon!

Rating: 4.5 StarsI can't stop thinking about this book. Rowell's Eleanor & Park was the type of story that had the potential to become a favorite, but simply never broke that barrier of cheese. Needless to say, I was more than a little concerned diving into Fangirl. Although the masses of reviews claimed I'd love this (though they've been wrong before!), I still opened this book with trepidation. I slowly waded through those first few chapters, not entirely reviled, but not entirely enthralled either. And then, before I knew it, my fingers were flying across the pages, my eyes were growing red from emotion, and the book refused to leave my hands, my soul, my mind. Fangirl isn't necessarily a ground-breaking read. Rowell, frankly, has done nothing overly brilliant with her latest piece. It is just a book. And yet, what makes it strike a chord in my heart is not the subject matter of fandoms, but rather the genuine manner in which college life is portrayed. What does it take to get a book about college devoid of alpha males and dramatic romance? Rainbow Rowell, apparently. For me, reading good New Adult is a refreshing, exotic experience, merely because it is so very rare, so this book is - truly - a gem. In its bare-bones form, Fangirl is the tale of a girl emerging from her shell. Only, you know, with plenty of fanfiction, romance, and parties thrown in. Cath and Wren, twin sisters, have gone through everything together - their mother's abandonment, their father's quirks, their Simon Snow obsessions - and now they're both going to the same college. Only, this time, Wren wants her own freedom, leaving Cath - shy, insecure, and timid - to a new life all alone. All Cath has that teethers her to her old life are her fans. Cath, the writer of "Carry On", one of the biggest fanfiction stories on the internet, lives and breathes Simon Snow. Or, specifically, Simon and Baz - two enemies, one love story, totally not canon at all(think Drarry). Thus, unlike her party-going sister, Cath locks herself up in her room with nothing but her laptop for company. It turns out, though, that being a self-imposed recluse isn't quite so easy in college, and whether or not Cath embraces college-life, college-life is certainly going to be embracing her. What I love about Fangirl is the realistic growth arcs that all the characters undergo. Most notably, of course, is Cath. What Rowell makes so clear in this novel is that taking chances means opening yourself up to both the good and the bad. While Cath goes one step forward - befriending her roommate Reagan, for instance - she is also forced back by a plethora of difficulties that embrace her at every turn. Not just socially, but academically as well. Cath struggles to perform well in her classes, pursuing an English degree, and write her fanfiction. She struggles to become self-reliant, on herself and new friends, instead of her sister. And, most importantly, she struggles to fully put aside her past life, perhaps because that life still exists. Just because Cath is in college, that doesn't mean that her past eighteen years are worthless. No, she still has to worry about her father, still has to live without her mother, still has to encounter the "crazy" in her head. And, though it can feel that there are simply too many problems on Cath's shoulders, there are also so many small reasons to be happy. Rowell captures the depth and scope of these issues perfectly, creating a divide between Cath and Wren, forcing Cath to push outside her barriers, and making her realize her full potential - as a writer, as a friend, and as a sister. Moreover, I love the direction that Rowell takes this romance in. On one hand, it's slow-burn romance, tantalizing and gentle. On the other, however, it had the potential for a great deal of angst, which thankfully, Rowell immediately cuts off. Cath and her romantic interest hold real discussions with one another and, best of all, he never pushes her to move too fast, instead respecting her wishes for space and trying to understand any qualms she may have. Rowell depicts a wonderful romance, built on equal-footing and mutual respect, but also one that goes beyond those initial stages and into a much more complicated route. And yet, Rowell doesn't hesitate from sex, or at least discussions of sex and safe sex behavior. Fangirl is refreshing, mostly because of its catapult into New Adult, but partly because of its honest depiction of sex as well. Where Fangirl falters is, ironically, in its portrayal of a fangirl. Cath, who loves the Simon Snow books and movies, reads like a true fangirl, in all her crazy glory. Rowell explores the difficulties that this may pose in college, which I appreciated, but this immersement into Cath's world is clunky and jarring at first. Moreover, the excerpts from Simon Snow novels and fanfiction that grace the endings of every chapter are, at times, unnecessary, doing nothing but slowing the pace of the novel. I think they were a highly creative manner of incorporating the Simon Snow Series into this book and when the excerpts matched up with the chapters, they were truly powerful, but that effect wasn't felt as constantly as I'd have liked. Either than that small blip, though, I found that Rowell tackled everything beautifully in this novel, pulling together all the plot threads, tying up all loose ends, and writing one of my favorite self-discovery novels. Fangirl will obviously appeal to the masses of fangirls (and fanboys) out there, but more than that, it is such a remarkable novel because its protagonist manages to grow and learn and change her outlook on life without embarking on a road trip or traveling to an exotic land. Instead, she is forced to stay put in college, to work out her issues with her sister, her professor, and her friends and tackle on all the challenges life throws at her instead of merely discarding them to be dealt with later. Rowell captures this tumultuous period in Cath's life perfectly, showing us the good and bad in everyone so that no one character lacks gray matter. Rowell's Fangirl hasn't quite made a fangirl out of me yet, but slowly and surely, Rowell will.

Stiefvater's The Raven Cycle is a little like wizard chess. The Raven Boys is the initial set-up, The Dream Thieves the careful maneuvering of pieces on the board, and now, with everything in its place, with secrets having emerged inside-out and back again; now, the real battle can begin. Stiefvater's latest is a mind meld; surprisingly lucid, utterly unbelievable, and wholly pleasing. If you aren't dreaming about this book afterwards, then you haven't read it right.What makes The Dream Thieves stand out from its predecessor is its pacing. Where The Raven Boys was languid, an unusually casual pace with an aura of mystery that culminated - unfortunately - in an ending that left readers (i.e. me) wanting, The Dream Thieves is a hot Virginia summer; lazy, slow, creeping, and steadily building up to a stunning conclusion that makes the entire journey worth the wait. Moreover, it introduces a handful of new characters who not only enrich the novel, but who enhance the characters we've already come to know and love. It takes talent to create three-dimensional characters, but it takes genius to forever peel back layer after layer, making the reader feel simultaneously as if they know everything about the characters and nothing at all.The Dream Thieves has been hailed as Ronan's story - and Ronan's story it is. That's not to say that there aren't glimpses into Adam, Gansey, Blue, and - a new "villain" I love - The Gray Man's perspectives, but it certainly does place most of the focus on Ronan. In The Raven Boys, Ronan is largely a mystery, which makes the scrutiny into his life that this novel provides necessary. I was one of the few readers who dismissed Ronan's "charm" in the previous novel, but his pain and insanity won me over in this installment. Moreover, Stiefvater meticulously answers all unanswered questions regarding Ronan's mysterious abilities, leaving practically no stone unturned. While there are still mysteries remaining - Where has Neeve disappeared off to? What is the extent of Adam's newfound powers? How will Blue's curse manifest? Where is Glendower? - Stiefvater bestows us with many unbidden answers nevertheless. In my opinion, this decision only makes the novel stronger, giving us more than enough information to keep our curiosities sated, all while fanning the flames.One of my favorite aspects of The Dream Thieves, though, is the fact that Stiefvater enables us to view our favorite characters from the perspectives of others. Even though The Dream Thieves is Ronan's novel, the story never ceases to revolve around Gansey. It's as if his name is whispered across the pages for, despite the focus on Ronan's dreaming abilities, the plot continues to spin around Richard Gansey III. Every plot device, from the large to the minuscule, are all pieces in Gansey's quest for Glendower; every character is present only because of their connection to Gansey; every unrelated action, no matter how strange, somehow comes back to Gansey. Even better, though, is the fact that Gansey continues to morph and change, depending on the eyes who view them. The Gansey that Ronan witnesses is different from the Gansey that Blue sees under that exterior, and I love that despite the continued ordinariness of Gansey among his Raven Boys, he never ceases to change. It is Adam, however, who takes the cake when it comes to morphing. Out of all these characters, my heart breaks the most for Adam, whose darkness bleeds through these pages. The Dream Thieves stretches the boundaries between good and evil, especially so with The Gray Man who is both hero and villain, but a constant remains that these characters are ones we cannot fall out of love with. I love Adam, I love Ronan, I love Gansey, I love Noah, I love Blue...I love them all and no matter what nightmares emerge from the recesses of their mind, I will always continue to feel for them.The Dream Thieves is brilliant precisely because it is a blend of perfect qualities. It contains Stiefvater's signature writing style; beautiful, gorgeous prose that sticks in your mind and refuses to fade away. It has a breath-taking cast, full of characters who make you question your own reality for, surely, they cannot be fictional. Its plot, though slow, is beautifully so, introducing new beings seamlessly into the tale. And yet, best of all, it clinches these characters ever closer to your heart. No matter how magnificently a novel is written and plotted, it is nothing without those raw, brutal emotions that rip through your body as your eyes frantically cross the page; and on that count, Stiefvater more than delivers, going above and beyond all hyped-up expectations. I am left wondering only one more thing: can Stiefvater possibly get any better than this?

If you, like me, are hard-pressed to find truly chilling gothic fiction, then A Curse Dark as Gold is not one to pass up. As a re-telling of “Rumplestiltskin,” this novel is haunting, poetic, and – most importantly – whole. Out of all the fairy tales in the world, “Rumplestiltskin” is easily my least favorite. After all, who really wants to read the story of a nameless heroine who later betrays the only character who helps her and winds up marrying the man who threatened to ruin her? It simply doesn’t make for good literature and, moreover, there is something grotesque about the dark underbelly of human nature that it manages to expose. With A Curse Dark as Gold, however, Bunce has taken this flawed – and largely unlikable – tale and crafted it into a believable story, one full of human flaws, but also realistic virtues. A Curse Dark as Gold is, as many readers will undoubtedly rush to admit, slow. And yet, it is never cumbersome. Bunce’s writing is beautiful and as she builds for us the mythical village of Shearing, she also slowly writes the creeping tale of ill luck and curses that have followed the Miller family for ages. Charlotte and Rosie, the two sisters of Stirwaters, are orphaned when this novel begins, but quickly take up the difficult mantle of running their late father’s business. As can be expected, a slew of new changes is in store for them, from their little-seen Uncle Wheeler making an appearance to the discovery of thousands of pounds of debt their father hasn’t paid and – my favorite – the introduction of Randall Woodstone, a banker. As Bunce throws multiple hurdles at these two sisters, she also peels back the layers of rumors and superstitions that surround Stirwaters and the Miller family. One of the only reasons this novel excels is because of Charlotte. Not only is Charlotte a headstrong, self-sufficient, and reliable heroine – one who doesn’t shirk responsibility and embraces hard work – but she’s also extremely pragmatic. Charlotte refuses to believe in the Curse of Stirwaters, meeting challenge after challenge with a clear mind. And yet, as this novel progresses, as misfortune presses down upon her, Charlotte slowly begins to fall back upon the hidden mysteries of her home that she has refused to acknowledge. Where Bunce truly shines in her portrayal of Charlotte is in displaying the dual nature of her personality. Every trait of Charlotte’s that is one to be applauded – her stubborn nature, her commitment to the mill, her loyalty to her family – are all slowly spun in such a way to become her downfall and revealed to truly be flaws. A Curse Dark as Gold is, as I mentioned earlier, a very slow, creeping read, one that builds its gothic atmosphere as the curse becomes more and more actualized in our minds. As Bunce writes this atmosphere, though, she perfectly captures its effects upon her protagonist, rendering her a far more three-dimensional character than the nameless heroine she was originally based off of. Bunce continues to strengthen the original tale of “Rumplestiltskin” through her interpretation of the dwarf himself. Jack Spinner, a mysterious man who appears whenever Charlotte and Stirwaters are nearing their ends, is one of the best villains I’ve come across. I am relieved to announce that Bunce does, in fact, tie-up all loose ends concerning Spinner’s character by the end of the novel, and she does so brilliantly, instilling a level of history, sorrow, and depth to a villain we formerly may have thought to be forgettable. And yet, what makes Spinner such a brilliant character is his ability to bring out the worst in the best people. I love that Bunce took an innocuous device from “Rumplestiltskin” – the dwarf’s ability to prey upon helpless individuals, gradually increasing his payments and forcing their own hand at evil to stop him – and brought it to life, even more encompassing than before, to drive home the extent of gray matter that exists within everyone’s hearts. Nevertheless, A Curse Dark as Gold would fall seriously short of its mark of brilliance without its cast of secondary characters. First and foremost, the village of Shearing is a force to be reckoned with. Bunce makes this fictional environment come to life, with her accurate descriptions of the Industrial Age – how I love a well-written historical fiction novel – in England and her lyrical prose. More than that, though, her vision of Stirwaters – a mill that provides for the livelihood of an entire village – is given breath and air as these workers become just as dear to us as they are to Charlotte. Stirwaters, not to be outdone by Shearing, comes with its own ghostly atmosphere, from hexes that refuse to be erased to equipment that won’t work without the presence of a charm to ward off evil nearby. Its owners, Charlotte and Rosie, are family that worm their way into your heart. Rosie, though lacking the extent of responsibility that Charlotte faces, is no less admirable, courageous, and intelligent. I particularly loved watching the relationship arc between these siblings, from their arguments to small gestures of love. I would do this book an injustice, however, without mentioned my absolutely favorite character, Randall Woodstone. Randall arrives in Shearing to collect the many pounds that Charlotte’s father borrowed on loan from the bank. Although he is easily dismissible at first glance, Randall soon continues to makes re-appearances in Charlotte’s life and their romance, though brief, is fitting for this time period. What I truly loved about his character, though, is that he embodies the qualities that I seek in a worthy romantic interest – loyal, intelligent, and respectful. Randall allows Charlotte free rein of her business, never interfering and only seeking to support her. Although my heart broke at the multiple hurdles they faced – not always together – I loved the progression of their relationship, from their realistic stumbles to their messy patch-ups. Bunce never allows us to view this couple through rose-tinted glasses, showing us the stark reality of their relationship and the strain of both the curse and hidden secrets, but our patience and love for these two pays off by the end. A Curse Dark as Gold, if it isn’t already obvious, is simply not one to miss. Although this novel firmly remains a re-telling of “Rumplestiltskin” – and a brilliant one, at that – it goes on to encompass so much more than merely that, from its history to its characters. It reminded me, very much, of Jennifer Donnelly’s A Northern Light. If you’re a fan of strong heroines, one who can’t necessarily fight to the death but ones who can stand up for what they believe in and fight – in any way they know how – for their families, then this book is for you. If you’re a fan of fairy tale re-tellings, especially re-imagined ones that only serve to better the original tale, then this book is for you. And, most importantly, if you’re a fan of courage, especially found in dark times, then this book is most definitely for you. Just take my word for it – Stirwaters is worth the visit; very much so.

THE PERFECT MATCH and SOMEBODY TO LOVE have similar heroines - which was the only reason I worried about reading this one. I wasn't a fan of the uptight, stuck-up protagonist of SOMEBODY TO LOVE and Honor has the markings of a similar woman, but I really LOVED her in this. It's wonderful to be back in Blue Heron, with familiar faces, and I just ADORE these family dynamics. And, you know, a British mechanical engineer isn't all that bad either. ;) Full Review to Come Soon!

An absolutely FANTASTIC sequel. I thought the beginning was a little slow and the last few pages wrapped things up a little too quickly, but all-in-all? Brilliant. If you haven't read THE HALLOWED ONES, you definitely need to. Full Review to Come Soon!

In retrospect, Untold is an extraordinarily boring novel. Unspoken was a novel I loved inexplicably; just because it was whimsical and amusing and magical and I could. With Untold, however, my feelings are far more mixed. On one hand, this novel delivered exactly what I wanted it to, but on another, I found myself left with an intangible wanting. What Brennan has always excelled at - ever since the release of her debut - is capturing the personality behind the shells her characters wear. Kami, especially, truly blooms in this installment. Without her link to Jared, she is suddenly forced to face her deepest fears and secret hopes - alone. Moreover, her once-perfect family suddenly cracks under the pressure of magic as truths come spilling out. For me, the highlight of this novel lies in seeing Kami come to believe in herself, all while retaining her characteristic flair. I also really loved her interactions with her parents. Kami, as a half-Japanese character, is treated as such and the background on her parents, not to mention the close ties between her siblings, is written so deftly, weaving this family both together and apart. Untold would be nothing, though, without its secondary characters. Brennan truly delves into the mindset of Kami's friends, making their lives and troubles just as real for us as Kami's. Yet, where this concept falters is in its execution. While I've come away from Untold truly understanding the layers behind characters such as Angela, Holly, or Ash, beyond adding more depth to the story, their perspectives did little. Ultimately, the relationships between these secondary characters has progressed very little. I surmise that - hopefully - we'll see them play a much greater role in Unbroken and all the backstory Brennan has written will finally come into play, but with this installment, it's rather useless. I find that the issue with Untold lies there. Its plot is so very loose and flimsy. It's meant to be centered around Kami learning to fight back against the sorcerers, but it's composed of conversation, drama, and tension. It's certainly enjoyable, but it lacks a certain tightness to its motivations that its predecessor possessed. Moreover, I desperately longed for more; more about the magic of the Lynburns, more about Rob than just a facade of black-and-white evil, more of the classic atmosphere that Sorry-in-the-Vale possessed in Unspoken. Just...more.(Just Jared!) You didn't think I'd end this review without mentioning Jared or Rusty, did you? ;) Rusty, as always, is a delight with his laugh-out-loud dialogue and hidden depths - which still remain hidden. Jared, however, becomes ever more real as the novel progresses. I love the few glimpses we're given into his mind - heart-breaking, but necessary - and am really impressed by the moral ambiguity associated with this character. His affection for Kami is no secret, but neither is his desire for the link, which puts him in an ironic situation. Furthermore, Brennan brings up another level of interest as she forces us to question whether Jared would be Jared without Kami in his head. It's interesting, merely because Jared is so very fixated upon Kami and does contain his own dark patches. He really does steal the show whenever he turns up on the page, though, and I really love that both he and Kami retain their own auras, despite their tight bond.Ultimately, I can't say that Untold shows much plot progression, but it's entertaining nevertheless. I both love and hate that there's such a strong focus on character development in this novel, only because much of it failed to have much direction, but Brennan manages to keep us riveted with her every word and it's physically painful to leave behind these characters as we leave our hearts behind too. Untold isn't one of Brennan's best works, but it'll keep you coming back for more. (What? You thought Brennan wouldn't write another cliffhanger? You naive reader...you're in for a shock with these last few pages. And we thought Unspoken was bad... *shakes head*)

When it comes to Unteachable, I have very mixed feelings. You should know, straight off the bat, that this novel explores a student-teacher relationship, but one done right. Raeder quickly eliminates the sticky issue of rape by ensuring that her protagonist is eighteen and, moreover, she never beautifies the stark reality of this issue. Admittedly, I found this book rather difficult to connect to at first, but as the story progressed, I quickly became engrossed in the lives of these characters, my heart unwillingly giving itself over to them. Unteachable begins in a carnival. Maise, a teenager suffering under the burden of a drug addict mother, absentee father, and general life-of-suck, meets Evan, a handsome man in his mid-thirties, and the two are drawn to one another; intensely, obsessively, crazily. Maise walks away from Evan, expecting never to meet him again, and is shocked when she sees him in her film class. As her professor, Mr. Wilke. With the sparks still striking between them, the two swiftly decide to start up a relationship, renting a room to stay in over the weekends and being careful to hide their relationship. Although these beginning scenes grate on me, only because of their utter wrongness, I love that Raeder never flinches away from acknowledging the mistakes in their relationship. Both Maise and Evan are at dark places in their life and, somehow, together they are able to cope. This is no chick-lit romance, a-la Colleen Hoover's Slammed. It's not about excessive drama or angst or staying away from one another or even doing the right thing. It's real. It's about the real-life repercussions, but also about the true feelings that blossomed between these two. And, despite the age difference, despite the built-in illegality of the issue, Raeder makes it feel so right. Naturally, the romance is Unteachable is all-consuming and passionate, a full-out roar of fireworks and the messy ashes left behind. Its characterization, though, is also spot-on. Maise is a swirl of emotions, fragile and hurting under her strong veneer. If nothing else, Raeder truly captures the broken mother-daughter relationship in this novel. We see the effect that growing up alone has had on Maise; never having a mother to rely on and always having to fend for herself. It makes her self-reliant, stubborn, and unwilling to trust others, but these barriers are slowly worn away as the novel progresses, giving us a wonderful growth arc. In addition to Maise, though, Evan, too, broke the mold. Not only is he kind, truly caring for Maise and putting her before him, but he manages to be sexy without being an alpha-male. Unteachable is the first New Adult novel I've come across that doesn't feature an all-controlling, bulky alpha-male. And what a breath of fresh air this is. Evan comes with his own baggage - naturally - but despite all the cards against him - his age, his profession, his willingness to engage in a forbidden relationship - he still managed to win me over with his genuine affection and real tenderness. Who knew nice guys could be swoony too?And still, my favorite aspect of this story is the fact that it captures exactly what I want New Adult to capture: messy relationships. Not only Maise's relationship with Evan or her mother, but also her friendships. With her background, Maise has been on her own for too long, so her complicated relationship with her one and only friend in this novel was charming in its realistic arc. I love that Raeder doesn't hesitate to touch upon subjects such as college or even go into the life of drugs that Maise lives in; the fact that this novel is not solely a romance makes it stand out from the crowd. Moreover, the writing is sublime. Raeder writes this novel in past tense, with Maise telling the story to the reader from a distant future in which she looks back on these events and drops cryptic hints every-so-often. Usually, this form of narration bugs me, but it worked perfectly in this scenario. For all its plus points, though, Unteachable is not a perfect novel. I found a handful of minor plot lines to be over-exaggerated towards the end, the villain veering off the track of gray and into the disappointing territory of black-and-white. Additionally, the middle portion of this novel was...tedious. Essentially, it's a string of sex scenes, most of which could have been cut out without batting an eye. Nevertheless, despite its flaws, Unteachable is the best student-teacher relationship I've read and one of my favorite New Adult reads, right up there with [b:Holier Than Thou|13480258|Holier Than Thou|Laura Buzo|http://d202m5krfqbpi5.cloudfront.net/books/1377216434s/13480258.jpg|19012539] and [b:Fangirl|16068905|Fangirl|Rainbow Rowell|http://d202m5krfqbpi5.cloudfront.net/books/1355886270s/16068905.jpg|21861351]. And, coming from someone who makes it a point to steer clear of all New Adult novels, that's high praise indeed.

I hardly know where to begin with Forgive Me, Leonard Peacock. Suffice to say that this novel is brilliant, beautiful, and heart-breaking. It follows a teenage boy - Leonard Peacock - on his birthday as he chooses to kill another boy in his school and then commit suicide himself, all after giving the few special people in his life gifts to remember him by. As a foray into Quick's works, I can't say this was the happiest of reads, but it made my throat close up in grief and my knuckles fist into my mouth to stop my sobs. It's difficult for me to articulate exactly why this book is so powerful, but Quick manages to capture the mindset of a lonely and hurting teenager perfectly. Moreover, the cast of secondary characters in this novel is stunning in their gray matter and unexpected depth. Leonard, especially, is a character our hearts go out to at once and I loved nothing more than his growth and the realistic, but hopeful, ending of this story. I truly believe this is one that everyone must read, if only to realize the pain that others carry within their hearts and learn to appreciate humanity a little bit more.

What to possibly say about Rose Under Fire? Honestly, Elizabeth Wein's name speaks for itself. After the brilliant and tear-inducing Code Name Verity, I knew to expect great things going into this book, and I wasn't disappointed. I found this novel a tad bit easier to get into, only because the beginning chronicles the life of Rose Justice, an American pilot during WWII who loves her job and remains untainted by the war. It's a naive telling, but a mostly content one. When true horror finally finds Rose, the juxtaposition between her life before and after is so palpably felt. Once again, Wein writes about the strong bonds and friendships between women, and she writes these beautifully. I find she is practically unrivaled when it comes both to character development and historical fiction. Unlike most authors, Wein has mastered the art of placing fact alongside fiction and making it into a believable tale. While I found this novel to lack a bit of the emotional punch that Code Name Verity contained, along with the literary genius of Julie's prose, it is still an extraordinary novel. If you loved Code Name Verity at all, this is a must-read. And if you haven't read Code Name Verity yet, then why are you waiting for your heart to get broken? Grab a dozen boxes of tissues and get to it - at once!

Rating: 2 Stars/DNF What happened to Sarah MacLean? When I read NINE RULES TO ROMANCE A RAKE, I could've sworn I'd discovered a new favorite author. While its sequel wasn't quite up to the same caliber - and I quickly lost interest in reading the last novel in the LOVE BY NUMBERS trilogy - I was excited to give this trilogy a try. Gosh, what a chore.As always, I really adore MacLean's characters. I've found them to be rich, layered, and deep - just the way I like them. I wasn't a fan of the romance angle in this, however. It's that classic forced-into-marriage scenario, but then it's topped by an utterly unnecessary hero-resists-his-lover-and-makes-her-think-he's-indifferent. And I hate those tropes. It's so annoying to see a couple face hordes of problems that are entirely unnecessary. It got up to the 63% mark in this novel before being fed up by it. All the qualities I loved about NINE RULES... - its humor, wit, and steam - were absent in this one. Sadly, I just won't be continuing with MacLean's work in the future. It seems NINE RULES... is the best her work ever gets.

Not a Drop to Drink is the type of novel that would have never appeared on my radar if it were not for the enthusiasm of dozens of bloggers. In fact, I believe this is one of the few dystopian novels I've picked up since my string of disasters with debuts last year, so color me surprised to find that McGinnis manages to do this genre justice. Not only is her debut gritty and realistic, but it combines one of the best aspects of dystopia that seem to have been buried under endless love triangles - fear. One of the primary reasons that dystopia became a favorite genre of mine was precisely because it lent itself so beautifully to psychological development; understanding how the fear of a future world led its people to behave in such inhumane ways. Not a Drop to Drink captures this dilemma perfectly, all without the eyesore of a love triangle or the burden of a mindless protagonist. If that isn't fortuitous, then I don't know what is. As its title suggests, Not a Drop to Drink takes place in a futuristic world where water is a scarcity. Lynn has grown up in the middle of nowhere, far away from cities and other proper means of civilization, choosing to live with her mother in their small house with their small treasure. And by treasure I mean water. With water such a rarity in this world, Lynn has been forced to fight for her pond and, from a young age, has been taught by her mother how to shoot and just when to kill. In other words, shoot on sight, make no friends, and survive. When Lynn's mother is killed, though, Lynn slowly finds herself opening up to others surrounding her, but as her heart opens, so does room for danger as well...Not a Drop to Drink is a largely plot-less novel, but that is far from being a detriment. While I found it to have an unusually slow start, it swiftly picked up and I found myself immersed in Lynn's life. McGinnis does a brilliant job of portraying the harsh brutality of the world Lynn has grown up in and we are witness to the prickly thorns surrounding her walls as she fails to connect with those around her. Lynn finds Lucy, Eli, and Neva - a young family searching for water - and with the help of her neighbor Stebbs, slowly grows to envelop them in her life. McGinnis never rushes Lynn's growth, taking her time to make her feel comfortable with strangers and re-connect with her humanity. One of the largest themes of this novel is that of life vs. survival. From the moment she was born, Lynn has simply been surviving. Her mother, a heard-hearted woman whose circumstances turned her to steel, never let Lynn feel the brunt of gentle emotions. Thus, Lynn has a long way to travel, psychologically, before she can learn to see people and not enemies, before she can learn to trust instead of kill. I love that this is not only a far cry from the typical overbearing governments that litter dystopias, but this is also a much more realistic portrayal of a futuristic conflict. McGinnis writes beautifully and the details of her world fit in like puzzle pieces into the story. Although the main focus of this novel is on Lynn, there is still a depth of world-building that is slowly revealed over the course of the novel, as well as a plethora of other mysteries that begin to show by the end. Unfortunately, I found this was a detriment to the novel as, frankly, there was simply too much piled on to that conclusion. For once, the epilogue was mildly satisfying, but beyond that, the quick succession of events towards the end lost any real impact those concluding scenes may have had. Moreover, the characterization of many of the secondary characters was ever-so-slightly disappointing. None of them had the level of depth that Lynn or her mother possessed, and while this didn't impact my enjoyment of the novel in any particular manner, I would have loved for those other characters to come alive for me the way Lynn did. Nevertheless, if you've lost belief in the dystopian genre, then this novel is the one to restore your faith. Not a Drop to Drink is an engaging thriller, full of concise prose and vivid characters. You'll come away from this with a far better appreciation of dihydrogen monoxide than before and, most likely, a thirst for more solid stand-alones from this genre. If nothing else, McGinnis has proved to be an author to watch out for and I can only hope she continues to belt out winners.