Ten Books One Decade

Putting myself out there to share my highlights of a decade of reading #loveozya novels. These were originally posts on my Instagram and Litsy feeds from Dec 28 to Jan 6.

Tenbooksonedecade

2010

I cannot remember 2010. I was working in a secondary boys’ library and had already been there for 4 years. Enough to feel comfortable. I remember @childrensbookdaily had talked me into returning to uni to complete a Masters of Ed. ‘We need to update our degrees’. Sigh. I only got through one semester because I knew taking on the role of Qld Judge for the #cbcaawards would mean I would be reading (and not much else). I read over 400 books that year, and nearly as many the following.

Melina Marchetta’s return to the world of Francesca and her buddies completely bowled me over—emotional nuance, messy family, and the story of Tom. Shockingly real. I could have picked Marchetta for about four of my years, so it’s only right she’s my first pick of the decade.

2011

While The Piper’s Son didn’t win OR category, my pick for 2011 did. It would be remiss of me not to select at least one Scot Gardner book. His writing over the last 15 years reflect much of the change in YA trends. His male protagonists are often lost (literally), certainly flawed, but always deserve the opportunities to put their lives in order. I especially appreciate that romantic love isn’t a major concern and that friendship, identity and family are strong and welcome features of Gardner’s themes.

The Dead I Know features Aaron, a young man looking for a role model, searching for answers, and the simmering thread of violence is always lurking, ready to pull him into a darker world. Luckily his apprenticeship with John gives him the sense of security and stability he needs. Big shout out to Sparrow (2017) and Changing Gear (2018), which both challenge toxic masculinity norms.

2012

My oldest son slacked his way through Year 12, and I spent the year carting him to gymnastic training and events, choral and orchestra rehearsals and performances, and I took a deep breath after judging for two years, stepping down from reading over 80 #loveozya novels to only 29. Jaclyn Moriarty released a fantasy novel that started the quirky, original warm-hearted series, The Colours of Madeleine which I completely embraced.

Her two lovely main characters, Elliot and Madeleine, swapping letters through a tear between their two worlds, show feisty tenacity, kindness and courage. They are clever novels seemingly light and witty, but that are actually and ultimately multi-layered and terrifically insightful. Her work continues to speak to ordinary people with extraordinary imaginations and startling inner lives. I love everything she writes.

2013

Confession Time: I didn’t read The First Third until 2017. After I read The Sidekicks. After I had conversed with Will. After I left my boys’ school library, where I had pitched it and promoted it. All I can say to 2013 me is what the hell? I didn’t miss the hype. I watched it receive both critical and popular acclaim. All my peers lauded it and the kids loved it and when I finally read it, I accepted its greatness. The First Third is a perfect blend of humour and emotion. Will treats his audience with respect, and he does not pander or preach.  Will is a person of many opinions and a marketing acumen I envy. His stories are authentic, his style is his own, and I can’t wait to see what else he has for us.

Special mention to my other favs: Wildlife by Fiona Wood, Life in Outer Space by Melissa Keil and Girl Defective by Simmone Howell.

2014

II went back to study part-time in 2014. My younger son completed Year 12 at the same school as me, both pressures making it a difficult time. Probably the reason why I only read about 24 #loveozya novels. Having said that, I actually predicted 5 of the 6 OR shortlisted books that year (#humblebrag), so there’s that.

The Protected explores grief in exquisite and infinite sharpness. Hannah’s pain is raw and real. Conversing with her dead sister Katie creates unbearable connection. Her parents’ absence is understandable, yet also unforgivable, and it’s astonishing the relief we feel when Hannah starts talking to Anna. Josh’s appearance brings much needed sunshine to what is in essence of story about confronting death and accepting loss. Claire Zorn is an assured, master storyteller. I hope we don’t lose her entirely to the picture book genre.

Other favourites of 2014 include Intruder by Christine Bongers, Are you Seeing Me? by Darren Groth and Tigerfish by David Metzenthen.

2015

This was my most difficult year professionally. I found myself without a job in August, just in time to sort my youngest son into Calvary basic training a week before his 18^th birthday. That and study kept me from despair and trauma. Finding a new job after turning 50 seemed an impossible dream. I only read 18 #loveozya novels, but the highlight was Fiona’s third book in the aptly named Six Impossiverse trilogy, Cloudwish. There was something elusive and mercurial about Van Uoc’s inner voice, such a contrast to her external presentation – wild versus compliant, risky versus accepting, bold versus quiet. She’s a rare find.

Just as important as Fiona’s writing skills, is the fierce support she offers other Australian authors and to the YA community at large through her thoughtful examinations of books and trends. She promotes diversity and inclusivity, and I have gained insights every time I hear her speak.

Other notable mentions of 2015 for me are A Single Stone by Meg McKinlay, The Flywheel by Erin Gough and Lili Wilkinson’s Green Valentine.

2016

I found validation and purpose this year when Pauline from Riverbend Books asked me to read for RSO. I will be ever grateful for her confidence in me. I continue to read for this amazing service – I mean come on; someone asks me to read YA! #luckyandgrateful I also completed my MEd (Knowledge Networks and Digital Innnovations) while I started the process of becoming a supply/relief teacher.

This was a tough year to pick from the 36 novels I read. Three high quality stories, all exploring grief over the unexpected tragic loss of a loved one, could easily have been the one, but two authors have already had other books highlighted (demonstrating their mastery), but on top of that, Cath Crowley’s Words in Deep Blue also focused on books! And bookshops! And the power of words! And included swoony Henry! So, winner. I love this book so much.

The other two excellent #loveozya novels for me in 2016 are One Would think the Deep by Claire Zorn and The Sidekicks by Will Kostakis.

2017

If I thought 2016 was a difficult year to pick a best book, 2017 has been even harder. I read 45 #loveozya books through my ongoing association with RSO and was able to spend significant time looking after other people’s lovely libraries. This made me realise that being able to share my love of teen novels was still something I wanted to do. But I was also asked to speak at several network meetings, PD events, and I started to believe that I would be able to fill my time valuable by helping other library staff. I started applying more seriously for full time work, but also started to formulate a possible plan b. And was less stressed, less anxious.

But back to the wonderful books of 2017. How do I pick between some of the amazing books that were released this year? I could easily select any one of ten books, and if you want to see them all, go here. I made a ridiculous number of lists, two specifically related to Australian YA.

The book I ultimately chose, Because of You by Pip Harry rates highly for a number of reasons. I am going to go back one of many ravs about this book to try to explain… Harry’s inclusive and diverse cast of minor characters carries a subtle message about stereotyping and judging others. The tone is warm and gentle, but the subject matter is harsh and uncomfortable. However, readers aren’t made to feel pity or guilt. Instead they are inspired by the way individuals rise to the challenge to help others… It’s an astonishingly powerful story.

2018

In a year of Lenny (Book of Everything), Merrick (Changing Gear), and Ana and Jono (from Between Us), it is the protagonist of The Learning Curves of Vanessa Partridge who stays with me most of all. I apparently read 49 #loveozya novels this year, helped by me judging the Young Adult category of the Qld Premier’s Literary Awards. Vanessa’s intellectual curiosity about her sexuality and her navigation through unwanted advances was a highlight. The novel also covered environmental issues, parental mental health, and authentic friendships. I loved every complicated, messy thing about it!

This year I returned to a library on a part time basis. It was a perfect re-introduction back to school, and I settled into a rhythm of juggling a number of roles—I haven’t really mentioned my active involvement in CBCA Qld, and this year, I took on President of the Branch, in a year where we hosted the Shortlist and Winner announcement functions. I really fluked it in, because Jenny Stubbs’s team did the work, and I got to be the front line of the credit taking. Seriously, Qld achieves way beyond its means in these spaces. Such a great year!!

2019

This was a tough year – health issues, death of my dad, and returning to work full time meant I was often stressed. However, some new good things happened too – Rhianna Patrick (@ABCRhi) invited me to be a regular on her radio book chat panel and that has been such good fun. Another year as Qld Branch president, a trip to Canberra for the National CBCA conference and judging the Qld Lit Awards kept me involved in kids’ lit while school encouraged me to learn more about coding and programing (eek). There were fewer YA novels released, but more MG, and I have many opinions about that.

This is How We Change the Ending represents Vikki Wakefield’s contribution to YA this decade. Starting with her debut novel. All I Ever Wanted in 2011, all five novels reflect a genuine representation of Australian teens—their desires, their fears, and their triumphs. Her latest sub-verts our expectations and challenges us all to listen to the teens in our lives and support them to find their best selves.

I also completed loved It Sounded Better in My Head by Nina Kenwood.  

So farewell to the short-sighted twenty-teens. May we all save the planet in the twenty-twentys!

Lists: Best of 2017

This is just a post that brings together all my best of 2017 lists, linking them chronologically, as they appeared on the blog.

December 6 2017 Best of Younger Reads

December 8 2017 Best of LGBTQIA

December 10 2017 Best of Mystery

December 13 2017 Best of LoveOzYA2

December 15 2017 Best of LoveOzYA1

December 17 2017 Best of Names

December 20 2017 Best of Speculative Fiction

December 22 2017 Best of Diversity

December 24 2017 Best of Voices

December 26 Top Six as posted over at Reading Time

Lists: Best of 2017: Voices

There were some distinct and pleasing voices this year, as well as the familiar and the unusual. Once and For All (June, Viking Books) is a comfortable voice for Sarah Dessen fans. She delivers in the best way possible, and Louna is a girl of her times. Her home life is unique, her lost love a tragedy, and her new one a blessing. My review is linked to the title. I will continue to read anything this author writes.

Other books here that I reviewed include Dress Codes for Small Towns by Courtney Stevens (August, HarperTeen), and Letters to the Lost by Brigid Kemmerer (April, Bloomsbury). Both Billie and Juliet live boldly with a strong sense of identity. When these are shaken, they learn to reach out to people, and ultimately accept changes with courage and love.

Girls Can’t Hit by E S Easton (July, Hot Key Books) has a humorous voiced narrator – snarky and over the top. It’s a delicious read. Here’s my RSO review.

This is a joyous and over-the-top celebration of girl power. While the main objective is to amuse and entertain, readers are also offered positive messages about feminism, and the choices girls can make to control the way they are perceived and treated. Easton manages to straddle that line between lecturing to his readers and letting them make up their own minds.

Fleur is a laid back narrator who is happy with her safe small world. Her best friends, Blossom and Pip are loyal and familiar. Blossom’s social justice campaigns and Pip’s cautious driving and other social awkwardness provide a lot of the humour, as do Fleur’s hilarious parents. But it’s Fleur growing need to step away from her comfort zone that is at the heart of the story.

Usually on Saturdays, the trio pretend to be Saxons at Battle, the place where the Battle of Hastings took place (in 1066), and Fleur’s decision to take up boxing interferes with their weekly routine. Again, Easton plays a lot of this for laughs, but at the same time, he sensitively explores Pip’s anxiety and Blossom’s confusion at the ways in which Fleur is changing—her interest in women boxers, watching the Rocky movies, and her determination to get fit. As well, Fleur starts to understand her mother’s protectiveness, as she bonds more with her father. It’s a story of friendship and family, although there is a small romantic storyline too.

A delightful read with powerful and positive representations, Girls Can’t Hit is sure to engage your middle school readers who appreciate humour in their fiction.

Stargazing for Beginners by Jenny McLachlan (June, Bloomsbury) also plays for laughs, but this narrator is more nerdy. Meg’s obsession with becoming an astronaut makes her a prime candidate for mockery and bullying, yet her determination and resilience offers a really strong role model for readers. Her journey through the novel from outsider to acceptance is well plotted. Her growing self-confidence and awareness is a joy to watch.

The Other F-Word by Natasha Friend (May, Farrar, Straus & Giroux Inc.) was a complete surprise and the voices here are many and varied. These teens find each other online and their emails, messaging and virtual connections are seamless and insightful. They must decide on some very tough choices, and while they consider the impact of meeting their biological father, they also support each other with side issues. It’s really authentic and interesting, and completely off topic, I think adoption, surrogacy, and IVF might be a new trend in YA. Family comes in all shapes and sizes, and these types of novels help to build new representations which of course, is awesome.

And I am done. Thanks for reading. I will do a post about my much anticipated 2018 reads if I can make the time before New Year. Merry Christmas and best of reading to you.

Lists: Best of 2017 Diversity

I have gone for a different take on diversity this year. Last year I focused on representation of ethnicity, this year I have broadened the scope. There are many different marginalised voices that are being heard more often and more loudly. Of course, it’s a good thing.

I have always loved the inclusive elements of Maria V Synder’s fantasy novels and Dawn Study (January) is no exception. People can have power regardless of their race, gender or sexual orientation, and while magic can represent any of those minorities, it isn’t forced or heavy-handed here. Evil exists and our heroes want to ensure freedoms aren’t impinged. It might seem straight-forward, but it’s far from that. Politics and loyalty are entwined and the stories are exciting and entertaining.

Three books I reviewed for RSO also make it on to this list. Optimists Die First and Phantom Limbs both have an amputee, and Piglettes has a secondary character in a wheelchair, but it’s Mireille and her two friends, as girls trying to affirm their identity and build self-esteem as plus size characters, that are the embodiment of positive representation here. My short reviews are added below.

Optimists Die First by Susin Neilsen (April) Random House

No one does quirky, anxious teen quite like this author. While Petula is paranoid and aggressively antisocial, readers still cheer her on because it’s clear she’s suffering much pain and sorrow. Jacob comes across as the complete opposite – charming, loquacious and extraverted—yet he’s hiding secrets, and is damaged too. Together, they journey towards finding ways to live with their guilt, and the consequences of their actions.

There are significant minor characters, particularly those who are part of the art therapy classes Petula is forced to attend, and hates. Each of these teens must also face their fears. Nielsen presents serious topics here, including alcohol addiction, parental neglect, and grief. The YART classes are often hilarious and sobering both at the same time, which will challenge readers, and let them know that often healing happens when problems are shared. These teens mock the rhetoric of their somewhat inept therapist, but ultimately they bond and blossom despite (or because of?) her inadequacies. Optimists Die First  is aimed at older teens, and is insightful and life-affirming.

Phantom Limbs by Paula Garner (June) Walker Books

This intensely intimate portrayal of grief is authentic and honest. Three young people’s lives are traumatised due to death and disaster, and teenagers will welcome its gritty realism. Otis thinks about sex often, Dara is aggressive and unapproachable, and Meg is the missing cog. Because Otis narrates, we don’t truly know what’s going on with the two girls, but secrets and pain have a way of working their way out, and it’s unflinching and uncomfortable.

Amputees are more visible in YA fiction, and Dara’s portrayal is extremely aggressive. She demands much from the mellow Otis. While he’s thankful for his physique and fitness, he isn’t sure he’s all that interested in being a champion swimmer, but he’s too much of a softie to tell Dara (plus she’s scary). Otis is turned inside out when Meg comes back, and there are lessons to be learned by all three teenagers. It concludes most satisfactorily, allowing readers to believe it is possible to survive the worst that life can throw at you.

Piglettes by Simone Beauvais (August) Pushkin Books

Piglettes has been translated from French, and has a very distinct style and feel. Protagonist Mireille survives severe teasing and humiliation about her looks and weight with humour and sarcasm. Readers will take a few chapters to adjust to Mireille’s narrative voice. It’s light! It’s irreverent, and the way she elects to name people with pseudonyms that are almost like real people is confusing and wickedly funny. For example, she refers to the President of France as Barack Obamette, who just happens to be married to Mireille’s (absent) father, who she calls Klaus Von Strudel because he is half-German. She has no filter, no fear, and no expectations that anyone will ever treat her right.

Astrid and Mireille find second place winner, Hakima, and together, they plan a road-trip to Paris to overcome their demons. Hakima’s older brother, Kader, a amputee soldier accompanies them, and along they way they sell sausages, and develop a social media following as they make their way through villages and towns. Not everything goes to plan, thank goodness, because often it’s in the unexpected that we learn, we laugh and we live.

This is a joyous celebration of girl power, and a challenge to people who are judgemental and intolerant of others. We are swayed here by laughter and friendship. Mireille is generous, kind-hearted, and trying to live her best authentic life. Young people could do worse than spend time with her on this ridiculous and inspiring journey.

Defy the Stars by Claudia Grey (April) Hot Key Books

I didn’t write anything about this book, and yet its balance of big issues and thrilling adventure has stayed with me. Its diversity comes in several ways–the development of Abel from AI to real ‘person’, the clear representation of female heroes, and the exploration of refugees and the way they are treated and primarily discarded. It’s a different type of inclusiveness, but no less important or interesting.

The Hate U Give by Angie Thomas (April) Walker Books

Another one I wished I had taken the time to write a lengthy review. This has the unfortunate honour of being touted as ‘important’, and ‘mandatory reading’ which might have the reverse effect of turning people off. However, it is actually and thankfully very readable, and a really terrific story. Starr is an excellent narrator and her character arc of safely ignorant to ‘woke’ is plotted really well, and never comes across as heavy or dark. An African-American teenager witnessing the shooting of a friend by a police officer is a strong narrative, and it only gets stronger when we are introduced to Starr’s family, and the complications of race politics and inequality. It is important, but happily, it’s more than that. It’s a great story.

I have one more list to go before Christmas – the #voices best of list.

 

Lists: Best of 2017 Speculative Fiction

My definition of spec-fic covers fantasy, science fiction, dystopian fiction, magic paranormal, steampunk and super heroes. Cool huh? Most of these are covered in these six books, which are all excellent in their own right. Three are standalones, and three are the first in new series, although La Belle Savuage, as we all know, is a spin-off from the very popular His Dark Materials books.

I reviewed Daughter of the Pirate King (February) and Renegades (November) here on the blog just recently. I reviewed The Undercurrent (August) and What Goes Up (October) for RSO, and will add them here now:

The Undercurrent by Paula Weston Text Publishing

Weston’s characters are thoroughly Australian, from their friendly insults through to their strong heroic instincts. Main characters, Ryan and Jules capture our hearts and our sympathy because we see how much they are at the mercy of greedy corporations and corrupt government agencies. In a departure from standard YA novels, readers are also given viewpoints from two adults, and the book develops in an interesting and layered way. While for the most part this is a fast ride, an action-packed escapist adventure, it also asks important questions about the way money impacts negatively on basic essentials like food and safety. We are also challenged to think about the increase in privatisation, and imagine that happening to the military. The local setting is described clearly, and there are familiar place names that both Queenslanders and South Australians will recognise. The climax is tense and thrilling, and the conclusion will more than satisfy fans of Weston’s previous paranormal series. It will also bring in a new readership.

What Goes Up by Katie Kennedy Bloomsbury

This is a book of two halves—the first part set on Earth with our three heroes competing to be chosen to be part of NASA. With the likelihood of alien contact, or at worst, invasion, preparation for the future is crucial. Readers will enjoy pitting themselves against the candidates, considering how they might approach the challenges and puzzles experienced. Kennedy does an excellent job of including unpredictable results and consequences. It’s a series of sequences that are both intellectually stimulating, as well as physically exciting. As well we are asked to make ethical and moral choices, and this is where the book finds its heart.

The second part of the book sees our heroes now facing real danger, and all of the tests and theory must be put into practice. Space is not quite how others have imagined it, and we loved this fresh approach to the alien invasion trope. Kennedy places her characters into emotional upheaval, as well as the physical threats, and readers will find themselves drawn into more than just the action. They will also feel and question what it means to be a hero, and what makes us human. Strong storytelling.

Invictus by Ryan Graudin (October, Hachette) is a clever and controlled mash-up of about five tropes woven together – it’s a heist story, with a raggedy team of diverse genius misfits, who travel back in time to procure items just as they are about to vanish anyway. Stealing? Lord, no, of course not. It’s also snarky and contemporary as only sci fi can do well, with a mystery to solve via cryptic messages sent through time to help (or hinder), and at the core of it all, there’s a story of family, and lost love,  and finding out who you really are. I keep using these words–inventive, inclusive and one hell of a ride.

La Belle Savuage by Philip Pullman (October, David Fickling) Was possibly the most anticipated novel of the year. That’s certainly true for me. I went in with some trepidation, but fell back into the writing style and story with ease. I actually found it fast paced and quite moving. I loved Malcolm’s loyalty and steadiness. His immediate protective instinct towards six months old Lyra makes him the best person to keep her safe. It’s a tense mystery and hints at all the issues we see in Northern Lights. I absolutely loved being transported back into this world, and wish I had time to do more than just flick through the earlier texts, hunting for clues and characters.

That’s it for today. On Friday, I want to post my #diversity picks.

 

Lists: Best of 2017 Names

When I started this process, I went through my 5 stars reads on GR, and no kidding, the first four books I listed, went like this: Eliza, Jane, Ramona, Alex, and WOW, that’s a statement right there. Four of my favourite 2017 books had the name of the main character in the title. In interesting and innovative ways too.

I have reviews here for Jane, Unlimited (August) and Ramona Blue (May). Gosh they are both such good books and my reviews try to explain why I liked them so much.

I added The Names they Gave us by Emory Lord (June) here as well, because well, it fits, right? It was such a pleasure to read. This author is really capturing the spirit of a quality contemporary. It’s got layers, and flawed characters, but it also addresses topic issues well. Here is what I wrote for RSO:

Protagonist Lucy, has a fresh voice. She’s a strong believer, but finds herself questioning her faith.  Working with counsellors who have their own troubled and diverse pasts, she is challenged to confront her privilege, and some of the honest conversations in which she engages, provide insight that many teenagers will appreciate. Looking after young children who face adversity allows Lucy’s kind spirit and resourceful nature to surface, giving her validation in a time when she feels insecure and abandoned. Her transformation is a joy and a heartbreak to watch.

The majority of the book takes place over June and July and the rhythms and routines of camp life are vivid and some of the episodes—an epi pen emergency, a scrabbling sixth graders’ fight, and a shy girl needing reassurance—intertwined neatly and organically with Lucy’s weekly visits with her mother, and her own reflections about belief and the best ways to live a life.

While it deals with big issues, it is by no means heavy or dark. Lucy is an optimist, and a thoughtful girl. She faces each new encounter with empathy and kindness. She’s not perfect, but she wants to be better, and is generous and honest. There are many light moments, although eventually Lucy does confront some well hidden family secrets, and is fortunate to now have the type of friends who support her through these shocks and shifts. It concludes satisfactorily, with some aspects neatly tied up, and others left more open.

Alex, Approximately (April) by Jenn Bennett is a sweet romance perfect for summer beach reading. There are several tropes in play, and as all the reviews say, a YA version of You’ve Got Mail. MC Bailey has been virtual friends with Alex for a while, bonding over a common love of classic movies. When she moves to his town, she meets and flirts with Sexy Porter. A dilemma develops–should she seek out unknown Alex, or stick with real Porter? Predictable it might be, but it’s also full of geeky references, with lots of humour and snark, so it’s a pleasure to read. There are also a couple of swoony, smexy scenes, if that’s your thing.

Eliza and her Monsters by came out in May but I didn’t read it till October. There are very strong positive reviews about this book, and there’s reasons that. It handles anxiety and unwanted celebrity status very well. Eliza’s anonymity means she’s free from judgement or expectation, and suddenly losing that threatens her mental health. But this doesn’t happen until the end of the novel, so for the most part, we watch Eliza meet cute guy, Wallace, and slowly venture out and interact with peers socially.  These are mighty steps for her, and we gradually realise the implications of being ‘outed’ as the creator of a very popular online fantasy serial novel. It’s a book for lovers of fan fiction, and the communities that develop around online creative arts. This is another book that presents an artistic life as a genuine pathway.

So, here are my favourite list of names books. Next Wednesday I will share my list of best spec-fic picks.

Lists: Best of 2017 LoveOzYA (more)

So now you know why I have been adding reviews up here randomly–so I can link to them without having to come up with something about a book I read months ago. I am very weepy that I never wrote more about The Secret Science of Magic (April) because it might almost be my favourite of the year, and I don’t have a copy to remind myself or reread passages. Yet I have strong memories of its authentic portrayal of anxiety, its diverse range of characters, plus a terrific representation of family, and of course, Joshua’s magic, optimism and final grand gesture. Everything about it worked for me.

I added reviews of The Things We Promise (March) and Take Three Girls (September) recently. I believe they will feature on many 2017 awards lists. They are powerful stories that invite readers to see the perspective of different people, and in doing so, encourages empathy and action.

I will add some words from reviews I wrote for RSO for the other three books.

Remind Me How it Ends by Gabrielle Tozer (March)

Gabrielle Tozer’s third novel presents Milo, small town slacker, one of the only kids in his year level to not escape to university. We meet him in the first chapter, visiting Sal, his high school girlfriend at a college party, and his bewildering sense of dislocation and separateness from her and her new friends is described perfectly.

This sets the scene for Milo’s search for a sense of belonging. It’s not in Durnan, middle of nowhere ACT, or at his parents’ bookshop where he works. It’s certainly not Sal, or his friends who have left him behind. Turns out it might be Layla, one time best friend, who arrives out of the blue, seemingly damaged, reliant on a deadbeat boyfriend, but who sparks something in Milo he can’t deny or resist.

This coming-of-age story is fresh and strong, and offers many layers beneath the banter, the banal world Milo wants to escape, and the bittersweet feelings of loss and longing. The ending is perfectly pitched, and provides an realistic and satisfying resolution.

Because of You by Pip Harry (August)

Tiny’s voice, aimless and full of longing, is distinct from Nora’s heart-broken and uncertain one. There is vulnerability for both of them, and the friendship and kinship that develops through their interactions is as hopeful as it is unexpected. Harry’s inclusive and diverse cast of minor characters carries a subtle message about stereotyping and judging others. The tone is warm and gentle, but the subject matter is harsh and uncomfortable. However, readers aren’t made to feel pity or guilt. Instead they are inspired by the way individuals rise to the challenge to help others, like Eddie, and cheer on the members of the creative writing group as they bravely confront their demons in a public forum full of strangers.

Harry has created a well plotted story combining a number of topical social issues with a strong coming-of-age journey. Do not let teen boys be put off by this cover. It’s relevant and important for all young adults about to step into the wide, sometimes uncaring world.

Gap Year in Ghost Town by Michael Pryor (August)

Anton’s snarky, laid-back voice is one of the best reasons to read this book–he is hilarious, self-aware and self-depreciating. The two female leads, Rani and Bec call him out when he is disparaging, but in ways that are clever and helpful. The trio are formidable when the action starts, but that takes time, actually, and the story is better for the steady build-up and foundation created by astute writing and an eye for detail. Pryor’s confident and witty wordplay will appeal to nerdy readers who are likely to geek out at the constant pop culture references and the humorous asides.

Anton’s indecision about his future is not overworked, and yet is a constant thread, making it just as much a coming-of-age story as it is a ghost busting action-packed fight against the forces of evil. Adults play significant roles, some helpful and some obstructive, adding depth and richness. I particularly love the character arc of Anton’s dad where he learns to navigate the wonders of 21st century technology.

It’s a genre novel that doesn’t pander or placate. It’s elegant, clever and charming.

On Sunday, I will post the obscurely titled ‘Names’ list.

 

Lists: Best of 2017 LoveOzYA 2

I couldn’t limit myself to only 6 Australian novels, but I could manage 12. Here are my first 6.

I reviewed three of these here, over this year: Valentine (January), Before You Forget (January) and Wilder Country (August). They are very different in style and genre, but they all depict a strong main character who has to deal with big questions. They are each distinctly Australian, either by voice or location, and they all offer an authentic teenage experience.

I went back to RSO to see what I said about My Lovely Frankie, and it’s a fairly extensive review, so I impulsively added it here yesterday. I am not sure which teen is going to pick it up, but it won’t be that cover that puts them off! I found the story mesmerising and gentle.

The other two are well reviewed on GR and other places. But just quickly, here are some thoughts of mine.

Night Swimming by Steph Bowe (April)

Kirby lives in the smallest country town in Australia, according to her best friend Clancy who is ready to flee to be a musical theatre star, and his snark and vibrancy keep Kirby from moping about too much. Everyone wants Kirby to leave too, but she’s less sure of that, especially when her grandfather starts to exhibit signs of memory loss and dementia.

Kirby is going through a lot, yet Bowe’s writing style is laconic and breezy. She allows Kirby’s fears about her family to filter through a lens of humour and rebellion. She doesn’t want to follow expectations, or hurt anyone, but she does have things to figure out, including her feelings about her absent father, and the new delectable arrival, Iris.

This gentle story is full of heart and optimism. Kirby is slow to act, but her thoughts are generous and self-effacing. It’s the small details that gives this story depth – the mysterious crop circles, and why they appear, the carpenter with a casual approach to Kirby as apprentice, the animals, all as important to Kirby as people, and of course, Clancy’s one-night-only extravaganza musical performance. The whole town comes alive under Bowe’s skillful hand, and it’s impossible not to get caught up in their stories.

Ballad for a Mad Girl by Vikki Wakefield (May)

Grace’s narration is strong if not always reliable. Wakefield continually plays on the meaning of ‘mad’, so that by the end, we have been twisted and turned like a broken spiral. There’s a mystery to solve, friendships to patch, and a brother who is impossible to know. Grace’s grief about her mother’s death scars her actions, and ultimately we are left with more questions than answers. Well, I was.

It really is a tour de force and I am intrigued to see the next direction Wakefield takes. I know I don’t explain anything here about the plot, but it is best to read this unspoiled.

My (other) favourite 6 Australian novels will be posted on Friday.

Review: My Lovely Frankie by Judith Clarke

My Lovely Frankie by Judith Clarke

Published: Allen & Unwin
Published: July 1 2017
ISBN: 9781760296339

Read: April 21 2017

In an age where it is hard not to judge the Catholic Church for its reprehensible actions against children, My Lovely Frankie offers a different point of view. True, the teachers of the seminary are exactly as you’d expect – inflexible, pious, and judgemental– but into that narrow, repressed world comes narrator, Tom, and the aptly coined lovely Frankie.

Frankie is exactly the type of priest who would be accepted and appreciated today. But in the 1950s, he stands out as too earthly, too empathetic, too much in the present. Frankie celebrates nature, he listens to (lay) people, he smiles at everyone. These qualities are condemned, and leave him open to envy and anger. Quiet, solitary Tom understands that Frankie is at risk, he’s just not sure why or from whom.

The build up to Frankie’s disappearance combines the story at the seminary, a look back to how both boys arrived there, and as well, we see and hear from Tom in the future, as he is now, old and content, presiding over a small country town parish, accepting of his attraction to Frankie, and its implications. It’s a mastery of structure and storytelling that each of the timelines flow naturally into each other, and that as patient readers, we let Clarke guide us gently through the joys of Frankie’s life, and the tragic consequence of jealousy and ambition.

Today’s young people are more secular and less knowledgeable about how Church doctrine impinged on many aspects of people’s lives. The ‘50s and ‘60s weren’t so long ago, but Australia’s societal and cultural norms have shifted significantly. This look back is almost like viewing a different country. It provides teenagers with another narrative to add to the one they get from today’s media about the role and impact of institutional religion.

Review originally written for Riverbend Standing Orders.

Lists: Best of 2017 Mystery

Who Killed Christopher Goodman by Allan Wolf (July) The power in this book the wonderful Christopher Goodman. He comes alive on the page, and knowing he dies makes the story even more poignant. Despite it being a book about a murder, there are some light moments between the five narrators, and a nostalgic trip to 1970’s small town America. I really went through all the emotions with this one.

One of us is Lying by Karen M McManus (June) This Breakfast Club meets Cluedo is addictive and twisty. It’s full of secrets and lies, and every one of the suspects has motivation and means to be the murderer. But it’s also an interesting spin on mental health issues, and while it can be read as a straight mystery, it also allows for discussion about bullying, alienation, and the need for us of us to be kinder and more gentler to our peers.

This Mortal Coil by Emily Suvada (November) This is a fast-paced, action thriller with a mystery that is yet to be totally resolved. Set in a post-apocalyptic world where genetic enhancements are almost obligatory, our intrepid hero, Cat faces and overcomes some incredibly taxing obstacles which makes for an exciting ride. I admit I didn’t follow all the science-y talk, but that didn’t stop me from enjoying it immensely.

The Pearl Thief by Elizabeth Wein (May) I loved this a lot, and anyone who has read Code Name Verity will have to hunt this down. My long review is here.

Carve the Mark by Veronica Roth (January) I read this at the beginning of the year, about 200 books ago, but I can still remember the disparate worlds Roth creates – the contrasting ideologies, the differing character traits and physical appearance of the warring races and the dire consequence of these hostilities on the surrounding planets. It’s an ambitious book, but one that still manages to work at an intimate level, with our main characters fighting to maintain their integrity and save their family, at the time as questioning traditions and their place in their own society.

Genuine Fraud by e lockhart (September) Told in a reverse timeline, this book is complex and morally ambiguous. Jule is an unreliable yet sympathetic narrator. That we can’t help but want her to succeed, may challenge some readers. It’s clever, full of the big questions about privilege and power, and immersive. Best to go in to it utterly spoiler-free for maximum impact.

Next up will be my favourite Australian YA novels, posted next Wednesday.