Review: Zits: Chillax

Zits: Chillax

Author: Jerry Scott
Illustrator: Jim Borgman
Pages: 256
Publisher: HarperTeen
Read: May 16-17, 2013
Source: Gifted

Description from Goodreads:
Comic god Stan Lee says Zits is a "comedic masterpiece!" Fans of funny illustrated YA novels such as Drama by Raina Telgemeier and Teen Angst? Naaah... by Ned Vizzini will definitely want to read Zits: Chillax. In Zits: Chillax, Jeremy Duncan, high school sophomore and future rock god, offers up a comedic outlook on teenage life, including school, parents, chores, bands, and friends. Jeremy and his best friend, Hector Garcia, are planning to achieve a lifelong dream...going to a rock concert! Without parental supervision. But the Gingivitis concert falls on the same night their friend Tim is donating bone marrow for his mom, a cancer patient. Not a problem: Jeremy and Hector are determined to go to the show...for Tim. Written and illustrated by Jerry Scott and Jim Borgman, Zits: Chillax is based on their comic strip, Zits. The book features 300 illustrations--including hilarious full-page comics.

First Sentence: "I see a bead of sweat clinging to Byczykowski's mustache hairs, and on her it doesn't look bad."

Review:

When I was a kid I loved reading the comic pages of the newspaper, or the 'funnies' as we always called them in my family. Zits, tragically accurate name aside, was always one of my favorites, perhaps even the favorite comic strip. Given that love, I was curious when I saw this book around, so when my dear friend Lenore (author of The Memory of After) offered me her ARC, I went for it. This novelization of the comic strip series was enjoyable if not quite as awesome as the strip itself.

While this is a novelization and not a collection of the Zits comics, which I thought might have been a possibility, fear not, as there are a bunch of illustrations in classic Zits style. Reading books with pictures is super refreshing, because all of a sudden I read so fast. Borgman's illustrations are hilarious, largely integrated into the story, including dialog responding to the prose text, though some are sort of commentaries on the story going on around it.

Jeremy continues to be the quintessential teenage boy. He completes his schoolwork at the last minute, recognizes the best ways to avoid getting stuck doing chores, and is completely embarrassed by his parents. This, right here, is what most teens I know experiences: present parents who care and are just sort of endlessly the bane of your existence, as though they purposefully want to harm your tenuous social status. Jeremy hates talking about his feelings and converses primarily with the word "Dude." He's a teenage boy with dreams of being a rock god, who sometimes forgets where his bed is and sleeps on the piles of stuff on his floor. Oh yeah, and he sleeps until the afternoon because that's what teens do.

Two elements combine for the plot of Zits: Chillax: a concert and cancer. Jeremy and his best friend Hector have tickets to go see their favorite band, Gingivitis, but are unsure whether they'll be able to convince their parents to let them go. At the same time, their band Chickenfist is in trouble when Tim, the bassist, announces that he'll be leaving them for a while, as his mother has cancer. The boys, unsure how to handle such an emotional moment decide that they need to go to this concert for Tim. This premise does make me a bit uncomfortable, using cancer as a device to move the plot along, rather than conveying the seriousness of it.

Aside from the cancer thing, Zits: Chillax is a series of hijinks related to getting to the concert. There are a lot of great funny moments, especially the moments where they're just hanging out with their friends being teens or when Jeremy's complaining about his parents. Oddly, the teen/parent dynamics have always been my favorite part of the comic, since they're so spot on, both to the affection and the rampant frustration involved in the relationship.

The pacing of Zits: Chillax is fast, even without the pictures. It's a light, fluffy read that can be enjoyed by boys and girls alike, as well as fans of the comic.

Rating: 3/5

Favorite Quote: "Whatever. Detention wasn't that bad (Sara was there, too) and I don't really mind being grounded because I don't mind spending time alone in my room. Why do parents consider that punishment, anyway? Half the time they're trying to pry me out of my room, and then when I screw up and get in trouble, they turn around and send me back in there, which is where I wanted to be in the first place! If you ask me, the only real punishment in the world is anything that falls under the heading of 'Fun for the Whole Family' which, trust me, is a lie."

Review: When You Were Here

When You Were Here

Author: Daisy Whitney
Pages: 272
Publisher: Little, Brown Books for Young Readers
Publication Date: June 4, 2013
Read: April 22-May 27, 2013
Source: Publisher via NetGalley

Description from Goodreads:
Filled with humor, raw emotion, a strong voice, and a brilliant dog named Sandy Koufax, When You Were Here explores the two most powerful forces known to man-death and love. Daisy Whitney brings her characters to life with a deft touch and resonating authenticity.

Danny's mother lost her five-year battle with cancer three weeks before his graduation-the one day that she was hanging on to see.

Now Danny is left alone, with only his memories, his dog, and his heart-breaking ex-girlfriend for company. He doesn't know how to figure out what to do with her estate, what to say for his Valedictorian speech, let alone how to live or be happy anymore.

When he gets a letter from his mom's property manager in Tokyo, where she had been going for treatment, it shows a side of his mother he never knew. So, with no other sense of direction, Danny travels to Tokyo to connect with his mother's memory and make sense of her final months, which seemed filled with more joy than Danny ever knew. There, among the cherry blossoms, temples, and crowds, and with the help of an almost-but-definitely-not Harijuku girl, he begins to see how it may not have been ancient magic or mystical treatment that kept his mother going. Perhaps, the secret of how to live lies in how she died.

First Sentence: "When someone you love has died, there is a certain grace period during which you can get away with murder."

Review:

First of all, I need to start with an explanation as to why it took me over a month to read a book that weighs in at less than 300 pages, since that is totally not the norm for me. This is a perfect example of why I prefer physical galleys. With e-galleys, I stick them on my Nook and read them whenever I'm away from home and have some free time for reading, but that doesn't necessarily happen to me all that often, really, so then it takes me about a month to read a single, short book. I mention this solely to say that it likely did have a negative impact on my reading experience. Perhaps, had I read this in a sitting or two, I would have liked it more than I actually did, and come closer to the feelings I expected to have.

I do think When You Were Here is an excellent book, well-written and meaningful. Daisy Whitney considers cancer in a way I've not encountered before. The focus is less on the disease itself but how Danny's mom lived with the disease. Whitney brings When You Were Here to a sweet, uplifting conclusion, but one that does not feel overly optimistic, rather real and hopeful.

My favorite parts were after Danny went to Japan to find out about his mom's life when she was there, after receiving a note from the caretaker of the family's apartment in Japan about the disposal of her almost unused medications. Curious about why she wasn't taking them, angry that she may not have been trying her hardest to live until his graduation like she always promised, he decides to fly to Japan spur of the moment. Those chapters where he explores Tokyo were beautiful and made me want to go there even more.

In Tokyo, he meets the caretaker's daughter, Kana, a couple years older than he is (just graduated from high school). Kana is the best, so unapologetically herself. She dresses as crazy as our stereotypes of Japan, wearing boots a drag queen would envy and things like that. If anyone gives her a hard time, she gives it back, even to hissing at them on the streets. Immediately, she befriends Danny, determines to help him find happiness and to find more of it herself, since she no longer loves Tokyo and he does. Their friendship grows quickly and its strong and delightful. He needs her, and meeting her is like a gift his mom left for him. I also just love that this is one of the only examples of a strong male-female friendship in fiction. There's no sexual tension or chance that they'll date. They love each other as friends and nothing more, even though both are single.

What kept me from loving this book were the main characters, Danny and Holland. Not only did I not connect with them, but I feel an active dislike for them. Whitney does a good job of establishing their flaws, but I'm not nearly as forgiving as the average person. When the reader meets Danny, he's as angsty as Nastya and Josh from The Sea of Tranquility, which, in case you haven't read that, means angsty as fuck. Now, he does have good reason to feel this angst: father years dead, adopted sister estranged from the family, dumped by the girlfriend he loves, and mother recently dead, not having lasted to his graduation. I do feel bad for him, but the self-destructive way he reacts to it in no way endears me to him. The only times I like Danny are when he is with or thinking about his dog, Sandy Koufax. His love for her is what keeps me from hating him entirely, proving that he's a good person.

Holland, on the other hand, has a whole subplot going on about her, but I can't go into details because they would be spoilery. Suffice it to say that I think she treated Danny abominably and stupidly. Again, it makes sense why she did, but I still think it was messed up and I can't just forgive her for that. I found her hugely irritating besides. Except for that one plot point, she's a total manicpixiedreamgirl, made of perfection. Adding a sappy plot to make her not perfect didn't fix that for me. Also, that plot is something I intentionally avoid; had I known about it, I never would have read When You Were Here, so much do I not like that subject matter. That's totally a personal thing, however, and don't let my own distaste scare you off, since trusted friends have been loving this.

All in all, When You Were Here is a beautiful novel, but one that I am not the ideal reader for. Though I do love darker contemporaries, I was not ready for another incredibly angsty character and I also feel distaste some of the subject matter. As I said, trusted friends have loved this, so don't write it off based solely on my opinions and my own personal biases.

Rating: 3/5

Favorite Quote: 

 "'Fuck high school. Fuck everyone. I'm outta here.'
     Let me tell you: You've never seen a standing ovation like that before."

Review: The Symptoms of My Insanity

The Symptoms of My Insanity

Author: Mindy Raf
Pages: 384
Publisher: Dial Books for Young Readers
Publication Date: April 18, 2013
Source: Gifted by Steph of Cuddlebuggery

Description from Goodreads:
A laugh-out-loud, bittersweet debut full of wit, wisdom, heart, and a hilarious, unforgettable heroine.

When you’re a hypochondriac, there are a million different things that could be wrong with you, but for Izzy, focusing on what could be wrong might be keeping her from dealing with what’s really wrong.

I almost raised my hand, but what would I say? “Mr. Bayer, may I please be excused? I’m not totally positive, but I think I might have cancer.” No way. Then everyone at school would know, and they would treat me differently, and I would be known as “Izzy, that poor girl who diagnosed herself with breast cancer during biology.”

But Izzy’s sense of humor can only get her so far when suddenly her best friend appears to have undergone a personality transplant, her mother’s health takes a turn for the worse, and her beautiful maybe-boyfriend is going all hot and cold. Izzy thinks she’s preparing for the worst-case scenario, but when the worst-case scenario actually hits, it’s a different story altogether—and there’s no tidy list of symptoms to help her through the insanity.

First Sentence: "I'm standing inside a large fitting room at Lola's lingerie."

Review:

Yet again, my strong desire for a book stemmed from the awesome cover (not the final cover shown above) more than the blurb. Sure, the blurb is funny and all, but that's not what really raised my interest. This turns out to be yet another reminder that I should probably stop seeking out books that I wasn't especially interested in before I saw the cover. Though I didn't precisely dislike The Symptoms of My Insanity and some of it was quite humorous, I had a lot of issues with it as well.

What Mindy Raf does best are the funny, awkward scenes, and those are where she comes closest to capturing teenage life. The horrors of getting fitted for a bra, the discomfort with you body, and getting your long hair stuck on someone's glasses, prolonging an already tense moment. Those things work well, and Raf made me chuckle a handful of times. These small moments, the teasing and the day-to-day stuff are the aspects of The Symptoms of My Insanity that really worked.

For the most part, I feel like this novel couldn't decide whether to be serious or funny, and often ends up being vaguely disquieting, as the lighthearted tone jars with the serious subject matter. Mindy Raf attempts to tackle cancer, sexual harassment, friendship, and slut-shaming, all while keeping things funny, and the darker subjects do not get the respect they deserve.

Take, for example, Izzy's hypochondria, which she develops as a coping mechanism for her mother's slow but fatal cancer. Izzy started out researching her mother's disease, and gradually became a bit addicted to an online web diagnosis site, paranoid that every sniffle or stomach ache is an omen of disaster. Sure, hypochondria can be rife with humor, and Izzy's development of it in correlation to her mother's illness is convincing. What is less convincing is the way that, once a few jokes have been told at her expense and her hypochondria has been pointed out to her by more than one person, poof, it disappears. Awareness of a problem does not immediately conquer it.

Then there's Izzy's mother, who I suppose I ought to be sympathizing with, since she's dying a slow death from cancer. However, she is enormously hard to like, since she tears down Izzy's self-esteem left and right. Izzy's body issues mostly come from her mother, who suspects her of being a lesbian if she wears loose clothes and accuses her of being inappropriate if she wears anything tight. Apparently, if a girl has large breasts, wearing anything form-fitting or remotely low cut is inappropriate. Way to make her feel like her body is disgusting. Yes, Izzy's mom learns lessons about this in the long run, but, again, I felt like the denouement was rushed, and a bit unsatisfying, since it came basically two pages from the end after hundreds of pages of narrow-minded vitriol.

Most upsetting by far, though, is the plot line involving sexual harassment. Izzy ends up in a compromising position with a boy, very much against her will. Despite the fact that he and his friends have similarly harassed two other girls, her friends, Izzy doesn't report him or do anything other than give him the cold shoulder. Izzy and her friends are just sending them off to hurt other girls, because, if they hadn't learned their lessons hurting the two friends, they certainly won't have learned it now.

Along this vein, I don't think the female friendships were handled well. Jenna and Izzy are supposedly best friends, but neither one seems to care for the other at all. Jenna withholds information that could help Izzy avoid pain, all because Jenna felt neglected by Izzy over the summer. Now, I get feeling neglected, but the reason Izzy was so busy was taking care of her mother who was going through cancer treatments, so how about a little leeway. Yes, Izzy could have been more thoughtful of her best friend, but she also didn't know anything was happening. Of course, once Izzy learns what Jenna's issues were, she still doesn't inquire or support Jenna, so there's that. Meredith, who neither liked much at the outset, proved a much better friend to both, even they judged her unfairly.

The language is a bit stilted, and rarely does Izzy really coalesce into a character I had a strong handle on. Her personality doesn't seem particularly set in stone yet, and, if I were to describe her in one word, that word would be naive. So many things are going on that should be obvious to Izzy, like the issues with her crush or Jenna. I called what was up with both of them in their earliest scenes, but Izzy was completely shocked to figure out the truth hundreds of pages later. For all that she's concerned about her mom's health, that, too, takes her time actually believing that she's having health problems, despite the really obvious evidence and her obsession with all things medical.

Izzy's burgeoning healthy romance I did like. In fact, for once, I am wishing for more romance, rather than having that as the weak point in a novel. The scenes in which Izzy speaks with the boy are the ones where the dialog feels most natural, even in the way they end up saying the wrong things and fighting. They banter and have things in common the way that Izzy and the rest of her friends and family do not really seem to. Overall, there was an authenticity of character and emotion that was lacking.

I realize this has turned into a rant, but I did like parts of this novel quite a bit, and I do envision a good future for Raf as a writer. The humor is well done in places, and the tougher subjects show promise. The Symptoms of My Insanity tries to do too much and ends up not quite satisfying overall. Though I didn't end up loving this, I will be open to trying Raf's sophomore novel.

Rating: 2.5/5

Favorite Quote: "Maybe facts and formulas comfort Marcus, but I think that article he read was totally wrong. You don't love chemical reactions or particles or neuron receptors. You love whole people. Including the parts you didn't know were there, and the parts you're waiting for them to become."

Review: Belong to Me

Belong to Me

Author: Marisa de los Santos
Pages: 388
Publisher: Harper
Source: Own

Description from Goodreads:
Everyone has secrets. Some we keep to protect ourselves, others we keep to protect those we love.

A devoted city dweller, Cornelia Brown surprised no one more than herself when she was gripped by the sudden, inescapable desire to leave urban life behind and head for an idyllic suburb. Though she knows she and her beloved husband, Teo, have made the right move, she approaches her new life with trepidation and struggles to forge friendships in her new home. Cornelia's mettle is quickly tested by judgmental neighbor Piper Truitt. Perfectly manicured, impeccably dressed, and possessing impossible standards, Piper is the embodiment of everything Cornelia feared she would find in suburbia. A saving grace soon appears in the form of Lake. Over a shared love of literature and old movies, Cornelia develops an instant bond with this warm yet elusive woman who has also recently arrived in town, ostensibly to send her perceptive and brilliant son, Dev, to a school for the gifted.

Marisa de los Santos's literary talents shine in the complex interactions she creates between these three women. She deftly explores the life-altering roller coaster of emotions Piper faces as she cares for two households, her own and that of her cancer-stricken best friend, Elizabeth. Skillfully, de los Santos creates an enigmatic and beguiling character in Lake, who draws Cornelia closer even as she harbors a shocking secret. And from the first page until the exhilarating conclusion, de los Santos engages readers with Cornelia, who, while trying to adapt to her new surroundings, must remain true to herself. As their individual stories unfold, the women become entangled in a web of trust, betrayal, love, and loss that challenges them in ways they never imagined, and that ultimately teaches them what it means for one human being to belong to another.

First Sentence: "My fall from suburban grace, or, more accurately, my failure to achieve the merest molehill of suburban grace from which to fall, began with a dinner party and a perfectly innocent, modestly clever, and only faintly quirky remark about Armand Assante."

Review:
Though, for some reason, Belong to Me is treated as a standalone, it's really not. I'm not sure why the publisher decided not to market them as a series, since they are directly linked. Oh well. I read the first book, Love Walked In, a few years ago, and I was really impressed. Ever since, I've recommended it to people, but, with my memory and the way my taste in books can change and grow over time, I wondered if it was really as good as I remember it being. Well, if Belong to Me is any sort of reliable indicator, then yes. I highly recommend reading Love Walked In first, then moving to Belong to Me.

All the same characters from Love Walked In are back. On the surface, de los Santos' books look like chick lit, like girly, light, fluff books, at least that's what I get from the covers and the titles. While her books do, admittedly, have way more female appeal, I would in no way mark them as 'chick lit,' though the boundaries between 'chick lit' and 'women's fiction' and 'literary fiction' are hazy to me at best. De los Santos' novels are packed full of emotion and wit and hope, and are incredibly beautifully written. There are authors whose prose I just glory in, immersing myself in their words as though they were the perfect temperature pool, and de los Santos belongs on that list.

Belong to Me may be a bit of a cheesy title, but it speaks directly to the main thrust of the novel: belonging. Each of the main characters struggle with finding a place to belong, and, perhaps even more, with finding a place where they belong that doesn't fit their initial expectations. These themes move me so much, because, really, aren't we all looking for that place where we belong, that person that makes us feel at home wherever we are? This is one of those books that makes me want to believe so hard that happy endings are possible, not so much because 'true love' is real, but because a more basic, more enduring, more real love is out there and that people will work to preserve it.

De los Santos writes from multiple perspectives, a common, though still daring, writerly move. Not only that, but she writes with one first person perspective and the others in third person limited. In both books, the reader lives in Cornelia's head, follows her around in first person, feels directly with her. In Love Walked In, the other perspective is that of Clare, a girl whose connection to Cornelia is not immediately apparent. In Belong to Me, we have Cornelia's and two more: Piper, the queen bee of Cornelia and Teo's new suburban neighborhood, and Dev, a brilliant young teen.

Cornelia and Teo have just moved into a house in the suburbs for his new job. She's a city girl, and doesn't like the sniping of the local women; she feels lost without friends, without the buzzing of the city. I may be biased by the storytelling methods, but Cornelia is my favorite character. In fact, for the first hundred pages or so, my mind wandered a bit when the story went to the other perspectives, because I just didn't care as much about the others. A wholly forthright person, she protects people, loves poetry and sometimes lets her temper get the better of her. Cornelia has a unique way of phrasing thing and a brutal honesty about the selfishness of her emotions that makes me relate to her so much.

I hated Piper so much at first. You're supposed to, of course, but that doesn't make her any less awful. She's one of those people: perky, bitchy, obsessed with being the best, etc. As I read her perspective, I just kept fantasizing about stabbing her with a nail file. Then, though, she changed, rather suddenly, but not unbelievably. Her very best friend, possibly her only true friend, is dying of cancer. She throws herself into caring for Elizabeth, and, for the first time in her life almost, gives no thought to her image. Her struggle is to discover that she doesn't belong where she thought she did, as the queen of society, but as a person with wants and desires, even if they don't make her popular. It's amazing to me that de los Santos made me care for her character.

One of my very favorite over-used characters is the genius child. Yeah, I know there are far more genius children in fiction than in real life, but I just don't care. If I have to read about children, they damn well ought to be clever. Dev fits that perfectly. He has such a thirst for knowledge, about poetry, string theory, friendship, and his father, who he doesn't know. His mother left his father because she knew he couldn't take care of the baby, but Dev resents the man for not coming to find him, while also hating himself for still clinging to that fantasy.

So, yes, the characters are marvelous. You know what's even better? Their relationships with one another. It's one thing to have great characters, and another thing entirely to make their friendships and romances ring authentic and awkward and painful and true, but de los Santos hits those notes just right. I'm not a big crier, but my eyes did get a bit teary, both from sadness and happiness, more than once. Friendship isn't often enough of a focus, but each of these characters have friends who feel real, and who will have their backs.

The one last thing I feel that I must say about this novel before I wrap the review: de los Santos surprised me. Finding a book that can really sweep a rug out from under your feet is a rare thing, at least for me. She has this way of weaving story lines together in such a way that I think I know where things are going, but then BAM! they go somewhere else. I may have yelled at the book a bit in frustration when I got to the twist, because I didn't want the characters to be unhappy at all.

Obviously, I just love this book. I'm honestly not entirely certain who to recommend this book to, because I'm having trouble sticking it in a box. Basically, if you enjoy beautiful writing, pop culture references, and women's issues, then you should really read Marisa de los Santos.

Rating: 4.5/5

Favorite Quote:

"'Sometimes, happiness feels so fragile,' I said.
   'Even ours?'
   Teo expected me to say no. I sat up so I could look at him.
   'Everybody's,' I said gently.
   I thought that he would touch my belly, but instead he touched my face. He slid his thumb carefully along my jaw.
   'So what do we do about it?' Teo asked.
   'You tell me.' I had my own ideas, but I needed to hear his. I held my breath.
   'Live. Forget that it's fragile. Live like it isn't.'"

Review: The Fault in Our Stars

The Fault in Our Stars

Author: John Green
Pages: 313
Publisher: Dutton Books
Source: BEA

Description from Goodreads:
Diagnosed with Stage IV thyroid cancer at 13, Hazel was prepared to die until, at 14, a medical miracle shrunk the tumours in her lungs... for now.

Two years post-miracle, sixteen-year-old Hazel is post-everything else, too; post-high school, post-friends and post-normalcy. And even though she could live for a long time (whatever that means), Hazel lives tethered to an oxygen tank, the tumours tenuously kept at bay with a constant chemical assault.

Enter Augustus Waters. A match made at cancer kid support group, Augustus is gorgeous, in remission, and shockingly to her, interested in Hazel. Being with Augustus is both an unexpected destination and a long-needed journey, pushing Hazel to re-examine how sickness and health, life and death, will define her and the legacy that everyone leaves behind.

First Sentence: "Late in the winter of my seventeenth year, my mother decided I was depressed, presumably because I rarely left the house, spent quite a lot of time in bed, read the same book over and over, ate infrequently, and devoted quite a bit of my abundant free time to thinking about death."

Review:
In a strange way, I always sort of dread reading anything by John Green. Weird, right? See, I live in perpetual fear that one day he will let me down and his book will be less brilliant than I'm expecting. My expectations when it comes to John Green are ridiculously high, because, basically, he's like the god of the nerds and, even in the books I like less, his writing makes me laugh and makes me feel. Despite this constant fear, his books have, so far, improved every time, with The Fault in Our Stars being his best yet, dark and funny and honest and touching and hopeful and depressing and painful and perfect.

*wipes away tears*

When people talk about this book, the first thing they mention is the sadness of it, of how many tissues are requisite to getting through this novel without emerging a snot monster at the end. What struck me much more strongly, though, was the sense of humor and optimism running through the book, even the darkest moments. The humor doesn't subtract from the pain or the suffering; it humanizes it, and enhances the strength of the characters.

In the past, my main complaint about John Green's books (no, I did not think they were all completely perfect) were the characters. They were real, but they were annoying and repetitive (especially with Paper Towns and Looking for Alaska. None of them did I fall completely in love with, although Tiny Cooper was close. In Hazel and Augusta, John Green's characterization has seriously hit its stride in my opinion.

Hazel's voice is just...incredible. Her sarcasm, her brutal honesty, her anger, her intelligence and her wit all made her one of the most wonderful narrators I've ever encountered. I love the way she phrases things. I love that she uses some words that I don't know the meaning of, which really doesn't happen often in my reading. Hazel feels wholly like a kindred spirit, like we would be friends if we ever met, which would totally never happen since we're both so anti-social. Also, she feels one hundred percent like a female to me, always a remarkable thing for a male author to accomplish.

Hazel and Augustus meet and there's an immediate attraction. Though they immediately feel for one another on some level, John Green deftly doesn't go anywhere near instalove territory. For one thing, there's Hazel's cancer, which holds the two apart. Even if there weren't and they immediately leaped into a relationship, I would have been okay with it, because the two legitimately develop a bond. They wisecrack and have this insane rapport; they share a love of word play and navel gazing. They trade their favorite novels and both go into the experience with an open mind, even though the novels were not what they were expecting. They are, without a doubt, one of the best, most convincing, most well-matched couples I have encountered in fiction.

Throughout The Fault in Our Stars, John Green has woven a lot of thoughts about the value of fiction and about what a novel really is, both to the reader and to the author. Hazel's favorite novel, An Imperial Affliction by Peter Van Houten, is a work of literary fiction about a young girl with cancer; Augustus' is a series of novelizations based on a video game about the adventures of Staff Sergeant Max Mayhem. While there's clearly a difference of literary merit between the two, I loved how John Green stressed the importance of both.

I feel like there isn't much more that I can say about this without cutting into your enjoyment of the book. I realize I didn't talk about the cancer at all, but I suppose that was intentional, because the book isn't so much about the cancer as about the people who are partially made of cancer. The cancer is them after all, not a foreign element. The book is wholly about cancer and wholly not, though I know that probably doesn't make any sense. What I mean is that this is in no way simply some weepy tearjerker stereotype of a cancer book.

My words are failing me, so I leave you now with this: The Fault in Our Stars is everything I dreamed it would be and more. John Green constantly increases his awesomeness. With this novel, he will break your heart, repair said heart a few sizes larger, make you laugh, give you hope, rip your heart to pieces again, and basically tell you the utter truth about a lot of awful things also known as life.

Rating: 5/5

Favorite Quote:

"‘I’m like. Like. I’m like a grenade, Mom. I’m a grenade and at some point I’m going to blow up and I would like to minimize the casualties, okay?’
    My dad tilted his head a little to the side, like a scolded puppy.
    ‘I’m a grenade,’ I said again. ‘I just want to stay away from people and read books and think and be with you guys because there’s nothing I can do about hurting you; you’re too invested, so just please let me do that, okay? I’m not depressed. I don’t need to get out more. And I can’t be a regular teenager, because I’m a grenade.’"

Will I? from RENT

Ashes
Ashes Trilogy, Book 1

Author: Ilsa J. Bick
Pages: 480
ARC Acquired from: Egmont USA via NetGalley

Brief Summary:
Alex has a monster in her head, a brain tumor that has stolen her senses of smell and taste, along with her memories. Desperate to get away from all of the pitying and relieved (that it's her and not them) glances, she decides that before she's dead, she needs to make the trip to spread her parents' ashes (yeah, her parents died just before the tumor was discovered...this girl just can't catch a break) on Lake Superior. While hiking through the mountains, she meets a grandfather and granddaughter (her parents are dead too). They share a repast and then share some serious pain, as some sort of "zap" attacks their brains. This kills the grandfather, injures Ellie and her dad's dog Mina, and seems to fix Alex's brain, along with giving her a super sense. Now, only really old technology works and Alex has to figure out how to keep herself and this snotty girl alive in the face of some mysterious calamity that seems to have turned most teenagers into cannibals...

Review:
Let me begin by pointing out that I have read only amazing reviews of Ashes. Pretty much every blogger I follow raved about its complete awesomeness. Unfortunately, I did not find myself so much in love with it. The story was interesting and, by the end, I was definitely interested in what was going to happen. I even plan on reading the sequel to Ashes, because I cannot just let the story end where it did. Warning: the ending is seriously abrupt. Can you say cliffhanger?

Although I feel really sad for Alex and was exceedingly happy to see her healed, I never really liked her or connected with her. This is really weird, because she definitely knows how to take care of herself and kick ass when she has to, meaning that she's just the kind of heroine I generally love. In some ways, she reminds me of Trella from Inside Out and Outside In, bruised and not trusting. Alex's coldness, though, stems from the fact that she could die at any moment. Why get close to someone when you're only going to leave them or be left by them because they can't stand to watch you die? While I totally get that and would probably be the exact same way, it still makes her hard to get close to even as a reader, for me at least.

Her romances, too, were rather tough for me to accept, what with her being so closed off. There was no guy that I shipped her with and no relationship that seemed like it would pan out in the end. In fact, they seemed borne of stress, fear and proximity. One romance even struck me as little short of Stockholm Syndrome.

Since I don't want to spoil anything, I'm going to be kind of vague about what happened to create the crazy post-apocalyptic world in Ashes. Let's just say that it was pretty stellar. The fact that the event, the "zap" affected people's brains in different ways definitely intrigues me as well. However, I had trouble dealing with teens turning into people eaters. It seemed to lessen the credibility and seriousness of the novel.

What creeped me out in a more believable way was the way that normal people reacted to this calamity, which killed off everyone in middle age and turned most youths into cannibals, leaving only the elderly, young children and a few teens like Alex to keep the world going. These aspects were close to being Witheresque, what with their only being a few women of reproductive age. Plus, with limited resources come unlimited conflicts with other folks only trying to survive just like you are. Mostly, I just feel like the cannibalistic adolescents were unnecessary.

Even though I didn't love this, I do want to know more. Maybe Bick can convince me in book two. Before writing this one off because of my opinion, definitely check out some other reviews, like this one over at Presenting Lenore.

"Will I lose my dignity?
Will someone care?
Will I wake tomorrow
From this nightmare?"