Watercolor Moods

Crafting the Cake (Or, How Baking and Writing Should Be Compared)

2016-07-16T19:35:00.004-04:00

Recently, I've come to term with a few facets of myself.

To begin with, I've finally realized that I need to bake. Just like I need to write. Perhaps not with the same soul-pinned need to string words together in the right sentences, phrases, paragraphs, sweeping tiers of meaning and warmth and the sense that what I am becomes that much better when it is put down on the blank page.

But at least with cake, I can eat my feelings and I don't have to look them in the eye while weaving them into dialogue and description. Also, it tastes better.

Anyway, I've also realized that the whole thing about baking and writing - "writing is like baking, you need the right ingredients and you have to be ready to wait, the raw material doesn't taste as good as the end result" and so on and so forth - is not...actually legitimate. At least, in regards to me. Probably because I just tugged a chocolate cake out of the oven and I can actually see the end results as pretty and don't actually find the in-process results of baking too bad even if they are rather messy and require a lot of scrubbing afterward.

Yes, writing requires the right ingredients. But the right ingredients vary. You can't always check your way down a list and go, "Oh, I've got my love thread right where I want it, so I'm heading to Aisle 12 to toss in a few thematic elements and maybe a little comic relief."

Yes, writing requires waiting. But at least with a cake, I know that within a good thirty minutes, I'll be heading in there with my gloves on and a toothpick ready to test that ooey-gooey middle - and, unlike an unfinished draft being carefully avoided in the writing program of choice for the week, that middle will settle itself in with a little heat and careful footsteps.

Yes, the raw material is no way reflective of the results. But at least you know what is coming out and you don't necessarily have to toss the entire middle of the cake and pour a new batter around the scorched edges in order to make progress. Well, not always. Okay, maybe that one still works.

I think you get the general idea. And I hope this doesn't sound like me whinging and whining about how hard writing is. Yes. It's hard. Yes. I do it anyway. Yes. I love it and this is my community and I wouldn't trade it for anything because this is such a gift and such a remarkable place to be and know that I am part of it and I contribute to it.

But. For all that baking has made me realize about the frustrations of writing - the unavoidable hiccups and fallen middles and sickening realization that somewhere along the line, you turned the heat too high and didn't stir enough and have to start a new batch (and yes, this totally does work as a comparison for writing) - I did have one important thought pop in my head when I was first sliding in that chocolate cake cooling on my counter:

Baking and writing both do require faith and patience...for you.

In you.

If I can hold a hand mixer in my aching hand and stir a thick batter for two long minutes and be confident that I'm doing the right steps, I should be confident when I'm writing down notes on a love list or starting a new synopsis or feeling that sickening ride-took-a-quick-turn lurch of new inspiration and rushing to take notes on it.

If I can grease a pan and set an oven and feel that I've given my cake the environment it needs to grow and reach its full, delectable, soft and fluffy potential in, I should feel just as secure in my mind's ability to add a creative flair to my own thoughts and imaginings.

Of course, thanks to the mind's impeccable ability to focus on all the wrong steps you take and the pancake-flat ambition of your ideas (or maybe that is just my mind, always snapping at my heels and making me question everything), it is not that easy.

Of course, even if I followed all the instructions in a recipe I'm using for the first time, there's still that nervous feeling of, "This can either be really good or a big waste of my time and flour."

And I don't really have answers for that, still. I would probably write faster if I did and spend less time deleting and tearing up and just...questioning everything. Which I don't do while I'm baking. Which probably says a lot.

Anyway. I think the moral today is create with confidence, create with self-assurance. Create with the thought that you are giving your work the environment and exposure it needs to grow and rise and reach its full, engaging, exciting, personally stirring potential.

And maybe put a cake in the oven so that when the self-doubt strikes, at least your mouth will also be full.

Every Face Lit Up: Kweli 2016 and All That It Was.

2016-04-10T13:13:00.001-04:00

For the past few weeks, I've been at a loss.

The semester has long since lost its glossy sheen of expectations, seemingly light assignments and attainable syllabi goals. If, you know, it ever had any of those. I was physically ill, mentally worn out and withered, and reaching down into my creative well for any hope or love or light brought up a bucket of wall scrapings: what I should have been doing, what I should be writing, paltry, painful words that made me wince to type out and made me scratch them out and away like unsightly scabs.

So, just to make that clear right at the beginning: I was living scantily, and with the little energy I had, I was living for Kweli.

I seized on it - the idea of this conference within reach, for people like me, on a weekend when I could actually attend and not glance down at my watch every few minutes, worrying if I'd be missing another commitment.

So. It happened. And I went.

Which really are the most anti-climatic, poorly chosen words to encompass all of what I felt yesterday, and today, and hopefully for the rest of this week because I am still soaking it in and thinking it through and just...being glad and grateful for the rightness that it pretty much was.

My friend Patrice Caldwell really put it best. You walk into this room, and it is full - brimming in every corner and seat and smile - with your people.

My people.

Usually I'm one of the only POC at publishing events and writers conferences, being at #Kweli16 is like home pic.twitter.com/8dR7g0Qexz
— Patrice Caldwell (@whimsicallyours) April 9, 2016

Your shields came down. You code switched right back to your natural default. The slang and the sly asides and the playful ribs during the day just gave me life right back where it was suckered out of me by weekdays filled with casual racism and subtle sneers.

I beamed. Inside, I felt like I bloomed. My very heart was giddy.

And then, right when I'd managed to find a last minute seat, when I'd thought I found a moment to catch my breath and stop appearing so flustered, Edwidge Danticat stood up - and declaimed an incredible keynote that had tears swimming in my eyes, Does Your Face Light Up?

My face lit up. It felt like the entire room, in that moment, reached down inside and held onto their own deep spark. It was a reminder I needed: why we do this, why our voices matter - why my voice matters, even on the days when I droop low and I have to dig deep for the moments Ms. Danticat described, the moments when my heart first opened, or closed, or was battered or bitter or bruised, in order to draw them out onto the paper.

It is because we light up. It is because we feel that rightness.

It is because this story, our story, needs to be told.

Words have wings. Words have feet. We don't know where they will travel, where they will land, who they may comfort...or save. - Edwidge Danticat, Kweli 16

I rarely attend conferences with both the benefit of marginalized focus and discussion on craft. I have to admit, right here, that I ended up spending most of the time meeting with people I adore and only half an ear for some admittedly amazing panels, but the union was there nonetheless, and it was incredible.

Words of truth at #kweli16: When someone lifts you up, you have to open your wings and make room for others. @djolder
— Leah Henderson (@lfhwrites) April 9, 2016

I feel like I will be talking about this for weeks. I will be thinking about it for weeks.

I will hopefully be beaming and blooming for weeks, enraptured by this new sense of self: being part of that large room of belly laughs and cheeky rejoinders and hard-hitting truths and realizing that I am part of this world, I can hang with these incredible people, I was literally in the room where it happened and new talent walked away inspired to wield their gifts and everything pulsated with one beat:

Your story matters. Your story matters. Your story matters.

At the heart of everything we do is storytelling...telling each other difficult & beautiful truths-@djolder #kweli16
— Samira Ahmed (@sam_aye_ahm) April 9, 2016

I'm not sure what else to share. There are little moments, funny and sweet moments: hugs and first meetings and being applauded while my mouth was full of a bagel and I hardly looked anything professional.

Oh, and going out to lunch and getting pancakes.

Because that did happen.

Today, my heart is hopeful. My mind is teeming over. Today, I feel my worth. I feel the weight of my responsibility and the memory of the girl I was, the girl who others currently are, who wanted mirrors and windows and hope and love and light and winged words to land in her lap and console her with their well-timed wonder.

"Be gorgeous. Be courageous. Be present." Also "write for the life you have." #kweli16 #keynote
— Nisha Sharma (@Nishawrites) April 9, 2016

In that moment, in that room, every face lit up.

And it happened and it was everything and I hope I experience it again soon.

Bring Me Back To The Start: Rereads, resurge, reliving the memories.

2016-03-24T14:39:00.000-04:00

Today, dear readers (if I have any left after how awful I've been with updating this blog), I am thinking about beginnings.

And, oddly enough, how they never quite lead to the ending that you suppose they will - which is just fine, for me, because the Kaye I am now is not the Kaye I thought I would be and she is definitely a far sight better than the Kaye I thought would be for many, many reasons, even if one of those reasons is sadly not a less dumpling face than the one I still have.

You can't win them all.

I was about to label this "Expectation" but...I didn't actually want to grow up and look like Tuxedo Mask.

Don't worry. This is not going super philosophical. I save my driest musings for my mother's ear right when she's engrossed in something particularly important, which I know she appreciates a lot. What I'm particularly thinking about today is circa sixteen or seventeen year old Kaye - and her favorite YA.

Summer used to be the time where my reading simply flourished. Even the slightest flush of warmth in the air brings back deeply evocative flashes of prickly grass under bare toes, sprawling out over the trampoline with a paperback in hand and an already melting popsicle dripping between my fingers.

(This was...obviously pre-university, because now the thought of all that luxurious free time and reading material selected by me, for me, is making my eyes water. Give me a minute.)

One of the titles that came to mind right away for me was Avalon High by Meg Cabot. Gosh, I loved that book. I remember listening to it on audiobook while washing the dishes, and getting all caught up in the idea of reincarnation and King Arthur coming back as a rather sweet high school jock and yeah, that could work actually - and then realizing suds were getting all over the floor.

Not one of my best moments.

I also read a lot of Shannon Hale. A lot. (But Shannon is boss, so I don't think you can blame me.) I really adored The Goose Girl, and still do.

That was also the year of Maureen Johnson's 13 Little Blue Envelopes and a brief, brash fantasy of wandering all over London on a treasure hunt of my own. It's odd looking back and realizing that I was really rather taken with contemporaries back in the day, in spite of being a spec girl to the heart and hilt in regards to my writing. I think How to Say Goodbye in Robot was my favorite of that entire stage, and that's pretty weird to think about.

Oh, wait, scratch that. Howl's Moving Castle has always reigned no matter what else came into my life. What was I thinking.

In any case, I've been wondering if these titles that occasionally wander over my tongue when I've bitten into something deeply profound and nostalgic - today, it was a Jelly Belly green apple bean, so you can see what a poetic soul I have - really hold up, and if I'll actually ruin all those sun-lit, spark sharp feelings I did have in those immediate moments of reading them.

I guess this will be the summer to see.

In some ways, though I'm grateful for all that I've gone through and the ways it's made me who I am, I would like to go back to the start in terms of myself as a reader. I would like to take who I am now - the awareness of problematic representation, the hunger for different voices and experiences - and supplant that into the girl who devoured and didn't overthink, didn't compare, didn't worry that she couldn't live up to this legacy or these blurbs or this gorgeous cover design.

Sometimes, even when moving forward, it's good to remember what is worth keeping from your old selves. Not all of it can or should be cicada-shed off my shoulders, and I think just writing this post for myself reminded me of that.

Start again. Read again.

...Not necessarily sixteen again, though. Once was enough.

well, that happened: 2015.

2015-12-30T15:32:00.000-05:00

Well. That happened.

What else is there to say about 2015? At the very beginning of this year, stepping out of the remains of 2014 - which, if you recall, was a hurricane masquerading as a year, was a parade of stepping into knee-deep puddles and scrapes and tatters and barely held together hearts - I could only pray that 2015 would be better, it would be kinder, it would be stronger, it would be the literal phoenix emerging from the ashes of pain and unnecessary unkindness the previous year had visited on us whether we liked it or not.

For 2015, I chose my word as thrive. I wanted to thrive, rather than merely survive.

And now, in the very last days of this year, looking back on all that has been said and done...

I won't miss it. It hasn't been kind to the world. It hasn't been kind to people I know and love. But perhaps I haven't dragged myself through it as much as I feel I have.

In any case, it is nearly over. This volume will be closed and I have fresh, bright hopes for 2016, in all its untouched, unmarred, bloodless promise. So let's look back on what was good from this year so that we can continue to move on, and grow, and thrive.

2015: Best of Reads.

Shadowshaper by Daniel Jose Older - want a book that gives you a hard-hitting dose of brown beauty, love for family and culture, a lesson on cultural appropriation and adventures dealing with the spirit world on top of all that? you need this. it's lingering and it's powerful.

Written in the Stars by Aisha Saeed - i am very, very biased, as aisha is my (adopted) baji and former wndb teammate, but it has thrilled me throughout 2015 to know that we have such a needed muslim voice on the shelves to look up to and admire and find hope in, particularly on such a difficult topic.

The Walls Around Us by Nova Ren Suma - the title that i actually started 2015 on, this has

A Thousand Nights by E.K. Johnston - reviewed here.

Uprooted by Naomi Novik - the book that knocked me out of a writing funk and into hopes that i can weave worlds as vivid and darkly fantastic. i read it all in one shot on the way home from bea 2015. (this is not ya, technically, but is close enough.)

One of the best parts of 2015 has been being able to read, period. And even the return of my appetite after a massive YA burn-out over the course of 2014 was challenged for most of the year due to school obligations and annotating, annotating, annotating. I was pleasantly surprised to find that it was actually hard to narrow this list down to just five!

2015: Best of (K)-Dramas.

Splish Splash Love - down on her luck high schooler falls into a puddle and meets a famous joseon king. love, love, love. if i haven't preached to you about why you should watch this yet, i obviously just haven't made it down my list. and it's only two episodes! two. episodes. you have no excuse.

I Remember You - this is the crime drama to beat, in my opinion, and was sadly one of the most underrated shows of this year. i have no idea why. it had it all: awesome chemistry, great writing and a serial killer that gave me the creeps.

Healer - have we talked enough about healer? i think we have. go forth into the mass of tributes, photosets and lamentations over the ending. i'll meet you back here next year.

Pinocchio - a reporter who cannot lie. a boy with a troubled past. this may be the drama that made me scream and throw my fists in the air the most this year, but looking back at that happy ending, i think it was worth it? maybe? (i may or may not have rage-quit at one point for a good month.)

D-Day - i am still watching this. the only excuse i can give for it being on this list is that it's a horribly realistic, heart-wrenchingly angsty depiction of how natural disaster can completely shatter life as you know it when you're not prepared for it. tense, gripping, and with several strong ladies that my sister and i are rooting for.

BONUS! Cheer Up! - i...am also still watching this, but it's only twelve episodes, it is everything a disney channel show wants to embody about the high school experience but often falls short on, and the entire cast is utterly lovable. what is there not to like? i do not know.

If it was hard to squeeze in reading time, I think my love for K-Dramas actually flourished over the course of this year. I chose to stick to the titles that actually released or aired this year (I'm cheating a bit with Healer and Pinocchio since they both finished airing this January) and struggled to leave off two series that I'm still watching while adding on another that I'm also still watching (D-Day).

This might have been the hardest category to settle on, actually.

2015: Best of Music.

That's it.

This was my 2015.

It's seeped into all my references, inspired several of my resolutions for the New Year, has made me break down in tears several times in public places, compelled me to have a late-night listening session with several friends so that we could all break down in tears several times (thankfully in the sanctity of our own homes, and not public places) and rekindled the history nerd in me that I thought died a slow, painful death over the course of AP history classes.

It was everything.

I wish I could have the memory and the patience to make one more category: Best of People.

Because, more than anything - more than the needed, sweet-sated feeling of escapist media and Lin-Manuel Miranda's powerful lyrics and music reassuring me that I should not throw away my shot - the people I've been blessed to discuss things with, receive reassurance from, be honored to know and aspire to be on the same, world-shifting level with, have made this year bearable.

I am so, so grateful, so, so thankful. We have lived through this year. We have consulted and created and countered together. We've made it through, and we have a fresh new page in front of us, and I know history has its eyes on all of us - and we're doing the best we can to give it something awesome to look at.

2016, here we come.

love in a box. (or, why internet sisters are a real and true and good thing.)

2015-12-10T19:45:00.002-05:00

i like to chronicle good things.

even when my heart has sprouted wings and is fluttering a good few inches just out of my reach, so that i spend the whole day glorious-giddy and unsure whether or not i want to snag it back from the lovely perch it's found, cradled by air and good news and something far lighter and brighter than sunshine.

the truth is, right now, it is very hard to remember the good things. the good people. the moments when the reason you cannot sleep is because you opened a box of love and magic and unexpected care and not because your stomach is twisted with knots and news headlines form a dark halo around your thoughts and it will be morning soon but you cannot rest, you cannot quiet, you cannot let yourself loosen.

i was in disbelief from the moment i first opened this.

and, always, it is very hard to acknowledge that people see good in you, that people like you and think about you when you hardly expect them to - that people you admire, very far away, will write a solid, beautifully inked letter about how highly they think of you (even that they know who you are!).

one letter, among so many other, unexpected, unthought of, letters. deep in a box of love and magic and well wishes.

i do not know, still, after a night of happy tears and individual thanks and unending gratitude, what to say. i know that the (dubiously big) sister of my heart, nicole brinkley, is worth more than anything i could parse out, anything that i have told her with shaking fingers and blurry eyes. what she has wrought here, for my sake - i cannot ever pay her back for it. she gathered together faith and determination and expended it all for me, over several months.

there are good people. and there are nicoles. would we all be like her.

i know who will get tight, bone-rattling hugs the next time our paths cross, who i will not be able to speak to properly until i've found some manner of repaying this kindness, some manner of saying how wonderfully, how deeply this touched me and how much it meant to me.

the truth is, right now, it is very hard to remember there are good things. i've scrambled over the hard floorboards of my bedroom five times this morning, to touch this box and marvel at its existence, at the fact that night has receded and washed forward once more and it is still here, a concrete presence filled to the brim and not at all a dream.

nope. still here.

thank you.

thank you from the bottom of my heart.

thank you for letting me chronicle something good, something hopeful, something that fills my heart and my eyes up every time i think about it. thank you for giving me something to anchor me when i feel low, when my words feel empty or useless or deflated.

you are what is good in the world. and i am glad to know you, and i am glad to love you, and i am glad to know that you know me and you see the good in me and you love me.

i will never, ever forget this.

#ReadWomen: Why I Already Do It, And Why You Should, Too.

2015-11-28T11:40:00.001-05:00

YA is not about the men.

This should be a given. Considering the wealth of hard-hitting authors I know - wielding gorgeous prose, poignant truths and a quick, apt response regardless of situation - who are ladies, considering just how many women are part of this industry and help to make it a better place every day, this should be something we already know, celebrate and consciously position in major news coverage.

(And in case you are not aware of the fact that this is not how things are going, in coverage or in which voices are continuously celebrated as certain members of the industry make overtures to double down on their personal prejudices and sexism...and which voices are perceived as "tearing down", "full of rage", and "unduly sensitive" - have a good, strong dose of my lady Kelly Jensen.

You're welcome.)

So, here we are on the cusp of #ReadWomen: an awesome plan to radicalize the month of December by positioning women reads on your reading list and encouraging others to do the same. To tell the truth, this is something that I do already.

My reading diet is comprised of the women I admire and wish desperately I could write like, who stir up my sensibilities and lend wings to otherwise staid ideas and whims, who offer up words that melt on my tongue and warm my veins and give me hope when the rest of the world would have me think that, like the other contents of Pandora's box, it fluttered out of reach a long time ago.

There is nothing - nothing - like reading words from someone who understands how you feel, what you face, the days when you are raising your voice above your head like a trapped bird in your hands and searching for a safe place to loose it and let it unfurl.

And goodness knows I am tired of presenting a friend with the idea of reading YA literature, and having them say, excitedly, "I do read YA! I read John Green and Patrick Ness and Neil Gaiman." Goodness knows I am tired of having male portrayals of teenage girls unfolded and shaken out and presented to me, with a furrowed brow: "This seems a little skewed, but from what I hear, this is what YA has for us."

It is not. It has never been. And the men I mentioned are good at what they do - brilliant, even - but their works are a tasting platter and I've savored the courses these feature writers and list round-ups skirt about with their plates held high and their eyes averted.

Support the voices that know the snarled threads in your heart and want to help you loosen them, one strand of the teenage experience at a time. There are so many of them you may not know of. But they are waiting for you.

All of that said, the #ReadWomen challenge is not limited to young adult literature, and the hashtag on Twitter and Tumblr is bubbling over with suggestions and encouragement. One of my personal favorite lists so far is courtesy of my good friend Fatima, who made a point of adding in WoC authors that many may forget or overlook (remember the marginalized voices, who have farther to go and be heard when it comes to these brief moments of amplification), and is also making a point of reblogging other lists that undertake the same mission.

Another person to keep an eye on when it comes to educated, accurate recommendations with more than a pinch of diversity: Dahlia Adler, my absolute favorite book pusher and a great lady all around.

I think Fatima has covered a lot of my favorites, but as we draw closer to December, I'll be tossing up a list of my favorites over this year and from farther back in the distant mists of my own adolescence (which, let's be honest, wasn't that long ago).

#ReadWomen. It's coming. Be ready. You have a whole month to devour and discover new favorites and broaden your horizons. Don't pass up that opportunity.

{in a breath.} McKissack, Jennifer: Sanctuary

2015-11-21T15:48:00.001-05:00

short, sweet reviews in the span of an inhale.

September 25, 2015
Scholastic Press
YA Gothic/Supernatural, 306 pages

I received this book in exchange for an impartial, unbiased read and review for the Cybils Awards 2015.

After the untimely death of her aunt, Cecilia Cross is forced to return to Sanctuary, a rambling, old mansion that crowns a remote island off the coast of Maine. Cecilia is both drawn to and repulsed by Sanctuary. The scent of the ocean intoxicates her, but she’s also haunted by the ghosts of her past—of her father and sister who died there, of her mother who was torn away from her and sent to an asylum, and of the vengeful spirit of a woman wronged. Flooding memories leave Cecilia shaken, desperate to run away and forget her terrible family history.

But then a mysterious guest arrives at Sanctuary: Eli Bauer, a professor sent to examine Sanctuary’s library. Cecilia is intrigued by this strange young man who seems so interested in her—even more interested in her than in the books he is meant to be studying. Who is he and what does he want? Can Cecilia possibly trust her growing feelings for him? And can he help her make peace a tragic past and a haunted present?

Luminous and evocative, Sanctuary is a remarkable exploration of love and loss—and the ghosts that come back to haunt us.

I have always loved the sea.

I stand at the edge of the shore, and wish that I could lift away the sea foam and let it curl and lap at my toes as my slippers. I want to wander deep into the salty waves, up to my neck, and let all the deep, hidden creatures wonder at my feet even as I crane my head downward to see them as they go by: wispy shadows and occasional will o' the wisp, luminescent flashes from way down below.

If there is anything that is better than actually wading in the sea, though, it is reading a book that gets that wistful and occasionally dark atmosphere. And if there is anything that Sanctuary excels at it, it is a wistful and a dark atmosphere - waves of it.

This is one of those titles where you wish you could have had it all, but also feel that you can be happy enough with what you've gotten: skeletons in the family closet, elegantly positioned historical references, and enough Gothic twists and turns that it made my ever-yearning heart near giddy with satisfaction.

The writing is occasionally awkward and I would have liked more show rather than tell (also, explanation for some of the ensemble characters' motivations), but the lingering sense of salt on my tongue and something hovering over my shoulder makes it all worth it.

Of note: Death. I don't think that should bother anyone, but death is almost a character in itself within this story. There are references to mental illnesses and asylums, along with the archaic manner of addressing the former at the time, and the horrific practices rife in the latter.

add sanctuary on goodreads

[Diversify!] - Marginalized Villains, You, Me, and Microaggressions.

2015-11-09T15:45:00.001-05:00

You have set a pair of iron shoes in front of me.

This is not a fairy tale. I am not your resentful, salt-cheeked stepdaughter. I am not a prisoner of circumstance and squandered riches. And yet, you set a pair of iron shoes before me, snaggle-tooth nails leering from the forbidding seams, still stained with the last victim's blood and tears and insurmountable pain.

They are not my shoes. You say that they are not, do not take this personally. They belong to someone else: someone neither of us has seen, except in mere fluttery flashes of their being wandering by, moving like air or dust motes out of my grasp before I can grasp them by the collar, shake out their sins from between their clenched teeth, force their feet in the shoes you have created so kindly, so thoughtfully, for them to dance in so that my own small, nervous toes will not be punished by proxy.

It is because I look enough like them, or what you know of them, what you expect of them. That is what you say, do not take this personally. You have seen their eyes, their skin, their teeth, and cobbled them together into a beast of your own creation. You present this portrait to me as I inch back from the hateful shoes, the unwanted manacles, pointing out the resemblances in my brow, my last name, my faith.

They are my shoes now, because you are insisting that they are, they must be so.

And yet, I will not step forward to be shod and shredded down into submission.

Stereotypes are painful, horrible things. They masquerade as justifiable logic, reasonable generalization, practical and pragmatic constructs that you unfold like cardboard boxes and stack your expectations of other people in, so you can unpack them when desired and force them to chew and swallow, smiling at you pleasantly (they must smile pleasantly, always, when you dissect them by what you've heard in the news or what you've read in your latest novel, or what your grandmother told you about people like Them).

Some are more easily identifiable than others. They have been washed and worn and their threads have faded out. They sneak about and jump back into the shadows when we point an accusatory finger in their directions. We tug them away from the shoulders of our friends, toss them down on the ground and break them down to their base substances: envy, prejudice, sheer ignorance, hate.

The presence of the marginalized villain, though, is one that continues to be perpetuated. It is reasonable, I am told, do not take it personally. People like you are not people like us. People like you, even if you insist, you prove, you close your eyes and scream into the masses that they are not at all like you, are bad people.

Every group of people has bad people. But how many other bad people do you see who are not brown-skinned, have a certain shape in their eye or tilt to their nose or accent to their voice? How many bad people do you see that fit that iron shoe, continuously, constantly: who fall into outdated, ludicrous tropes, wear down their daughters to rag and bone?

Every group of people has bad people. That is what you tell me, do not take it personally, when you insist, you protest, you beg to be allowed just one villain in your story line that is based off horrific, skewed, easily identifiable stereotypes of people like me. Every group of people has bad people.

You are not special.

You are not singled out.

You should sit down. Be silent. Just wear the shoe that doesn't fit you, that cramps you, that confines you, that isn't who you are.

Here is what you need to hear. Here is what you need to know.

No. This is not my shoe to wear. Not because you say, not because you assume I will happily chew and choke down your kind "reclaiming," "unpacking", "nuanced" representation of an already tired presence in every story you claim features and stars me.

This is not my shoe to wear. This is not my pockmarked, dark soul you attempt to pin to my back. This is not the microaggression you try to shape and mold me to accept, to swallow down every time: "violent," "disloyal", "hateful," "angry," not like us, not like us, not like us.

Marginalized presences as villains, each and every time, do nothing to our progress. It does nothing for my voice, for me, to open another novel, another perceived harbor of comfort, to have the gates drawn in my face by the shrouded, veiled figure or desert dweller or backwards immigrant parent tethering their child to the window sill where they can sing their songs to the sympathetic world spread beneath them and get fresh air and stay where they are, wither away where they are.

This is not my shoe to wear. I will not believe my foot is fitted to it, that you do me a favor by creating it, that it is nothing personal to assume I will wear it, that I will understand it, that I will gladly pay money and choke it down and swallow it (always with a smile, no offense taken, that is the way things are, that is the way we are) when it is presented to me on a plate.

I am saving my feet, treating them tenderly, for the soft, silken slippers they are meant to wear: the truth that my tongue will savor, will slide down my throat with a gentleness, a soft surety that this is right, this is who I am, this is my soul and my shoe to wear and I am pleased with it.

Settling Into the Season: Autumn 2015.

2015-10-28T19:52:00.002-04:00

There's magic in the way the sunlight looks in Autumn.I wish I could bottle it up and dab it behind my ears and on my wrists during the winter.

I think this year makes me feel the most like Luna Lovegood, because if I could I would make a cardigan out of the treetops, a scarf from the skies, and a brooch from a crackling oak leaf, and go about everywhere feeling like there is something more to this season besides rediscovered aches and pains and chills and the sinking feeling that we are trampling out of the year just as firmly as we stepped into it.

This is as much a time for reveling in shedding leaves, lining your pockets with stray string and plucking out lint and forgotten candies, and the giddy joy of hot chocolate with whipped cream, as having existential crises, tallying off another umbrella casualty because of strong winds, and stepping into dismal, ankle-deep puddles when you aren't prepared to.

Disappointment and ruminations aside, though, October in particular has felt like a month of stories: buoyant, salt-tinged nostalgia for the summer, spine-tingling expectation building up toward the last week, and yes, whatever readings you are printing out or hurriedly yanking off the library shelves and stuffing into your backpack before dashing off in the general direction of your next class.

(Particularly re-reads. If there's anything I love more than an oversized sweater, it's a book that I've already hugged and know the shape of just as well as it knows me and is willing to reach out and squeeze back every single time.)

Because October is a month of stories, and no matter how much I have on my plate this semester, I am determined to revel in it with every rebellious, not at all on the syllabus title I can squeeze into it.

howl's moving castle by diana wynne jones (ya)*

blood and salt by kim liggett (ya)

slasher boys and monster girls, edited by april tulcholke (ya)

p.s. i still love you by jenny han (ya)

dreamstrider by lindsay smith (ya)

strong poison by dorothy sayers (adult)*

night film by marisha pessl (adult)*

graceling by kristin cashore (ya)*

the village: achiara's secret (korean drama, currently airing)

kill me, heal me (korean drama)

hocus pocus (movie)*

over the garden wall (animated series)*

limetown (podcast, currently airing)

the black tapes podcast (podcast, currently airing)

* denotes that i've already seen/read this before
** i spared you the titles that are purely for school. you're welcome.

When You Ask Me About Diversity. (Or, When I Have No Other Words to Give.)

2015-09-25T21:53:00.000-04:00

At all times, I hold a fistful of words.

They are the words I think will sound the best. The ones that have always served me the best. The ones that, like a sword shoved into the hands of a farmhand selected by destiny – that very first, crisp phrase at the beginning of a novel – have come to an understanding with my grip and grasp of how they should be used.

Some of them look like this:

You can do it.

I know you can.

Some of them I clench my palm around until it is sweaty and white-knuckled and painful:

But…there’s a caveat here.

But...I’m not sure how you will take this.

I never feel like the right person to share those words. I've been told, repeatedly, I am qualified: by who I am, what I've lived. I do it, daily. I always keep my face forward, too tempted to constantly glance over my shoulder for the bridges I am sure I am burning in my wake.

When you ask me about diversity, I want nothing more than to hold your hands and tell you, firmly, that I want nothing more than to tell you the exact right words, the words you need to hear most, the words that will unstopper your voice and heal hearts and open minds.

As a marginalized woman, I understand the temerity that comes with these conversations. I understand – raw and deep – the bruises, the scrapes, the eternal sense of, “No one wants to hear me. I’m not worth hearing. No one wants to read about me. I’m not worth reading about.”

When you ask me about diversity, I want to tell you, “Having this dialogue always feels like I’m holding a raw egg as I speak. My fingers are clenching, and unclenching, and sooner or later I will say the wrong thing or squeeze down too hard and I’ll find myself slick with shame and raw yolk.”

This year, I’ve spoken multiple times online, and once, in person, on diversity. I offered the words that felt right when I weighed them in my hand. I offered the words that I hoped would do no harm, that in turn would educate those who heard me to do no harm to others.

I am not sure why you ask me about diversity. I want to think it is because you are looking for someone who understands the bruises, the scrapes, the eternal sense of, “No one wants to hear me. I’m not worth hearing. No one wants to read about me. I’m not worth reading about.”

I want to think, if you are not a marginalized voice yourself, you want me to hold your hands and tell you, firmly, that I want nothing more than to tell you the exact right words, the magic words, the words that will heal hearts and open minds and reach out to others.

I am not sure what else I can tell you that hasn’t already been said, by more qualified, more eloquent voices. I am not sure what else I can tell you that hasn’t already reached deep into my wrung out heart, made every word that came out after it seem trite and redundant and overly dramatic and not worth the telling.

Tonight, I am not sure what else to say, except that the conversation so often gets so convoluted and painful. So often, people’s words and hearts and experiences are swept away and under the rug.

When you ask me about diversity, I want you to keep asking, and keep asking, as long as the words you offer are polite and sincere and true. I want to tell you to set aside privilege, old expectations, barbed stereotypes.

I want to tell you: I just worry that I’m not offering you the right words to keep going.

When you ask me about diversity, I hope that my answer is enough to keep the conversation going where it needs to go, so change can follow in its wake. And hope that it is enough to satisfy the question that was asked. And hope that it will be taken the right way, that it will not wound, that it will not be used to wound me.

At all times, I hold a fistful of words.

They are the words I think will sound the best. The ones that have always served me the best.

Tonight, some of them look like this:

I am here and I am trying.

You are here and you are trying.

Do no harm.

Cut no corners.

Keep writing.

That’s all we can do.

Top Ten Tuesday: Top Ten Books That Celebrate Diversity

2015-07-21T14:09:00.000-04:00

Okay. I know I've been bad in terms of keeping up with Top Ten Tuesday this year.

But how could I not toss together a post for this topic?

I know, for many, diversity seems like a fraught subject, riddled with potholes in the form of titles that you thought were good and turned out to be problematic or stereotypical and made you feel as though you offered other people a bowl of sweet-looking grapes that had moldy undersides.

I know. It happens to everyone. I checked and double-checked all the titles that popped into my mind, trying to figure out if I'd seen anything contradicting their status as a positive, encouraging YA title. If this is happening to you, too, please remember two things:

A. It's good to be able to discuss these titles, because - as a marginalized voice myself - I like being able to let people know what bothered me, so they can know to look out for and challenge those topics themselves,

and

B. It's okay to like and consume problematic media. The problems happen when you make it your business to deny their being problematic, or police other people's reactions or pain from their being problematic.

(Also, when you push forward that problematic media as representation or an educational resource, especially as someone outside of the marginalized group being problematically represented.)

Kudos to you for broadening your reading horizons and doing your best to be conscious and sincere and engaging. Here's a fist bump for you. And a piece of chocolate. And so ends my likely unwanted PSA.

Anyway. Today, I'm doing something different. Even though I signed up for a diverse reading challenge this year, I haven't been doing my best of logging my progress or even recapping what titles I planned to cover this year.

Since we're already headway into summer, I thought you might like to see five diverse titles I already enjoyed earlier this year (or am currently reading), plus five titles I haven't read yet and should for the sake of keeping up with said challenge. Sounds good? I thought so.

Of note, I did my best to focus on authors with marginalized identities and backgrounds, as well as

(Click links to visit GoodReads and read the relevant summaries.)

What I've Read

1. This Is Where It Ends by Marieke Nijkamp (arc preview here)

10:00 a.m.
The principal of Opportunity, Alabama's high school finishes her speech, welcoming the entire student body to a new semester and encouraging them to excel and achieve.

10:02 a.m.
The students get up to leave the auditorium for their next class.

10:03
The auditorium doors won't open.

10:05
Someone starts shooting.

Told over the span of 54 harrowing minutes from four different perspectives, terror reigns as one student's calculated revenge turns into the ultimate game of survival.

Casual diversity central. It's also heart-wrenching, requires a full box of Kleenex to get through and made me scream incoherently into my pillow several times, but that's neither here or there.

2. Tiny Pretty Things by Sona Charaipotra and Dhonielle Clayton

Gigi, Bette, and June, three top students at an exclusive Manhattan ballet school, have seen their fair share of drama.

Free-spirited new girl Gigi just wants to dance—but the very act might kill her. Privileged New Yorker Bette's desire to escape the shadow of her ballet star sister brings out a dangerous edge in her. And perfectionist June needs to land a lead role this year or her controlling mother will put an end to her dancing dreams forever.

When every dancer is both friend and foe, the girls will sacrifice, manipulate, and backstab to be the best of the best.

Juicy, juicy scandals, gossip and cutthroat dancers - with an added helping of diversity! What more could you ask for? (And, like I've said before, I'm not usually the girl who likes juice outside of a cup - preferably orange, or else, strawberry kiwi.)

3. Dirty Wings by Sarah McCarry (currently reading!)

A gorgeous retelling of the Persephone myth, Sarah McCarry brings us the story of Cass and Maia--the mothers from All Our Pretty Songs--and how their fates became intertwined.

Maia is a teenage piano prodigy and dutiful daughter, imprisoned in the oppressive silence of her adoptive parents' house like a princess in an ivory tower. Cass is a street rat, witch, and runaway, scraping by with her wits and her knack for a five-fingered discount. When a chance encounter brings the two girls together, an unlikely friendship blossoms that will soon change the course of both their lives. Cass springs Maia from the jail of the only world she's ever known, and Maia's only too happy to make a break for it. But Cass didn't reckon on Jason, the hypnotic blue-eyed rocker who'd capture Maia's heart as soon as Cass set her free--and Cass isn't the only one who's noticed Maia's extraordinary gifts. Is Cass strong enough to battle the ancient evil she's unwittingly awakened--or has she walked into a trap that will destroy everything she cares about? In this time, like in any time, love is a dangerous game.

Please see my post on jewel-toned books as a genre on why I think Sarah McCarry is the best thing since apple pie. Read everything by her. Everything is a gift to diverse YA as we know it. Please and thank you.

(I'm also reading About A Girl. All the Sarah books!)

4. Everything, Everything by Nicola Yoon (currently reading!)

My disease is as rare as it is famous. Basically, I’m allergic to the world. I don’t leave my house, have not left my house in seventeen years. The only people I ever see are my mom and my nurse, Carla.

But then one day, a moving truck arrives next door. I look out my window, and I see him. He’s tall, lean and wearing all black—black T-shirt, black jeans, black sneakers, and a black knit cap that covers his hair completely. He catches me looking and stares at me. I stare right back. His name is Olly.

Maybe we can’t predict the future, but we can predict some things. For example, I am certainly going to fall in love with Olly. It’s almost certainly going to be a disaster.

This book has everything: an utterly delightful and believable narrator (who is biracial!), delicate, heartfelt prose and a wonderful author who it is an absolute pleasure to cheer for. Also, this is another of those ARCs that Mom totally stole off me and devoured and then refused to give back. If that means anything.

5. The Girl at Midnight by Melissa Grey (currently reading!)

Beneath the streets of New York City live the Avicen, an ancient race of people with feathers for hair and magic running through their veins. Age-old enchantments keep them hidden from humans. All but one. Echo is a runaway pickpocket who survives by selling stolen treasures on the black market, and the Avicen are the only family she's ever known.

Echo is clever and daring, and at times she can be brash, but above all else she's fiercely loyal. So when a centuries-old war crests on the borders of her home, she decides it's time to act.

Legend has it that there is a way to end the conflict once and for all: find the Firebird, a mythical entity believed to possess power the likes of which the world has never seen. It will be no easy task, though if life as a thief has taught Echo anything, it's how to hunt down what she wants . . . and how to take it.

But some jobs aren't as straightforward as they seem. And this one might just set the world on fire.

This totally gives me Daughter of Smoke and Bones feels, but without a lot of the problematic aspects that (though you know I adore Laini Taylor) I couldn't reconcile myself with. Also, as I mentioned before earlier this year, Melissa is a real-life heroine and maybe that will rub off on me if I keep reading her awesome words.

Coming Up Soon

1. The Wrath and the Dawn by Renee Ahdieh

Every dawn brings horror to a different family in a land ruled by a killer. Khalid, the eighteen-year-old Caliph of Khorasan, takes a new bride each night only to have her executed at sunrise. So it is a suspicious surprise when sixteen-year-old Shahrzad volunteers to marry Khalid. But she does so with a clever plan to stay alive and exact revenge on the Caliph for the murder of her best friend and countless other girls. Shazi's wit and will, indeed, get her through to the dawn that no others have seen, but with a catch . . . she’s falling in love with the very boy who killed her dearest friend.

She discovers that the murderous boy-king is not all that he seems and neither are the deaths of so many girls. Shazi is determined to uncover the reason for the murders and to break the cycle once and for all.

Yes, I haven't read this yet. Still. Yes, I know I am an awful friend. Yes, I know that this is a gorgeous, sumptuous debut (so many people who are beautiful, timely souls and have already read it gladly offer up their testimonials, in order to rub my sins further in my face). Yes, I have no excuses.

Arthur's done with me now.

2. This One Summer by Mariko Tamaki and Jillian Tamaki

Every summer, Rose goes with her mom and dad to a lake house in Awago Beach. It's their getaway, their refuge. Rosie's friend Windy is always there, too, like the little sister she never had. But this summer is different. Rose's mom and dad won't stop fighting, and when Rose and Windy seek a distraction from the drama, they find themselves with a whole new set of problems. It's a summer of secrets and sorrow and growing up, and it's a good thing Rose and Windy have each other.

In This One Summer two stellar creators redefine the teen graphic novel. Cousins Mariko and Jillian Tamaki, the team behind Skim, have collaborated on this gorgeous, heartbreaking, and ultimately hopeful story about a girl on the cusp of her teen age—a story of renewal and revelation.

This summer seems to be the summer of epic graphic novels for me. They are gorgeous, colorful and often quick but fulfilling reads and I'm not sure why I lapsed out of them. I've heard a lot of great things about this title in particular. And it even has summer in the title!

Me when I realized our library does, in face, have a copy of this. You don't know how much of a miracle this is.

3. Pointe by Brandy Colbert

Theo is better now.

She's eating again, dating guys who are almost appropriate, and well on her way to becoming an elite ballet dancer. But when her oldest friend, Donovan, returns home after spending four long years with his kidnapper, Theo starts reliving memories about his abduction—and his abductor.

Donovan isn't talking about what happened, and even though Theo knows she didn't do anything wrong, telling the truth would put everything she's been living for at risk. But keeping quiet might be worse.

I am so, so behind on reading this. I know it. You can fuss at me about it if you've already read it, if you want to. I won't mind.

4. The Last Leaves Falling by Sarah Benwell

Japanese teenager, Sora, is diagnosed with ALS (Lou Gehrig's disease). Lonely and isolated, Sora turns to the ancient wisdom of the samurai for guidance and comfort. But he also finds hope in the present; through the internet he finds friends that see him, not just his illness. This is a story of friendship and acceptance, and testing strength in an uncertain future.

Do you know how much it pleases me to be able to mention both Marieke and Sarah in a list?

My precioussssessss.

In a totally platonic, devoted, non-creepy Gollum way, of course.

(I love you guys. Don't run away.)

Anyway, I do have this sitting right here and even my picky sister said the cover is a dream and she wants to read it when I'm done. So there you have it.

This is what I should have told my sister and taken advantage of the situation. She doesn't respect my YA taste enough.

5. A Time to Dance by Padma Venkatraman

Veda, a classical dance prodigy in India, lives and breathes dance—so when an accident leaves her a below-knee amputee, her dreams are shattered. For a girl who’s grown used to receiving applause for her dance prowess and flexibility, adjusting to a prosthetic leg is painful and humbling. But Veda refuses to let her disability rob her of her dreams, and she starts all over again, taking beginner classes with the youngest dancers.

Then Veda meets Govinda, a young man who approaches dance as a spiritual pursuit. As their relationship deepens, Veda reconnects with the world around her, and begins to discover who she is and what dance truly means to her.

This looks absolutely lovely and elegant. And yes, I'm totally judging by the cover, but it's a novel in verse about a dancer! I honestly don't know why I've put this one off so much, particularly since I know so many who love this, particularly among my Desi writer friends.

{and now for something different.} Knisley, Lucy: Relish

2015-07-18T19:22:00.004-04:00

April 2, 2013
First Second
Graphic Novel/Memoir, 192 pages

A vibrant, food-themed memoir from beloved indie cartoonist Lucy Knisley.

Lucy Knisley loves food. The daughter of a chef and a gourmet, this talented young cartoonist comes by her obsession honestly. In her forthright, thoughtful, and funny memoir, Lucy traces key episodes in her life thus far, framed by what she was eating at the time and lessons learned about food, cooking, and life. Each chapter is bookended with an illustrated recipe—many of them treasured family dishes, and a few of them Lucy's original inventions.

A welcome read for anyone who ever felt more passion for a sandwich than is strictly speaking proper, Relish is a book for our time: it invites the reader to celebrate food as a connection to our bodies and a connection to the earth, rather than an enemy, a compulsion, or a consumer product.

It is rather ironic that, not even forty-eight hours after Ramadan ended, I am sitting here and fighting the urge to lick my fingers - over a graphic novel.

I think the particular beauty of Ramadan, and Relish as well, is that it all rests in being grateful for what you have, and appreciating it more when you have it in front of you. You can have the simplest Iftar and close your eyes in bliss in the first moments of it rolling over your taste buds: a pot of simply served ramen, a few dates and a water bottle.

Like Lucy Knisley, a lot of my fondest reminiscences are interlinked with what I ate at the time. My childhood memories are peppered with wading in the Atlantic Ocean, raising butterflies and numerous trips to the library, as well as my best friend's mom packing a "little" lunch to tide us over during our adventures at the aquarium (fresh parathas and perfectly spiced omelets) and the Carvel ice cream cake that graced my fourth birthday.

(Yes, I do remember. And it was pure, sugary goodness.)

And of course, there are the Eids: fluffy plates of biryani, syrup-soaked gulab jamun lovingly handmade by my uncle's own hands, colorful platters of fruit that are often passed over for slices of Trader Joe's carrot cake and ice cream.

The best moments of the reading experience is when you feel the presence of someone like you behind every word - or at least, somewhat like you.

I definitely can't claim Knisley's lovely, often humorous words or drawings, or her gourmet upbringing; though, I could tell you a lot of interesting facts about growing up Muslim, and how quickly I learned to decipher the back of a food label.

At the heart of Relish, though, is the shared pleasures of eating, of finding new things you like or the comfort of returning to old faithfuls when times are bad - and, of course, celebrating the communal aspects of a good dinner and sharing that experience with friends and family and beloved ones.

It made me miss last year, when, stressed and overtaxed from all sides, I spent hours browsing Foodgawker, discovering that lemon bars may just be my claim to fame and telling myself that one summer, if not that summer, I'd make a peach cobbler.

(It's July. I still haven't baked one. But there's always next summer, right?)

This little jewel of a memoir celebrates the fancier dishes, and the moments when you just need a little salt and grease on your fingers. It's studded with deliciously illustrated recipes and college student angst and a little bit of self-reflection. I'm grateful, I'm inspired, I'm determined to square off some time for kitchen duty during the semester, and I'm hungry.

10/10.

Of note: I just took a gander at GoodReads and realized that this is listed as adult nonfiction, so. Teen readers (particularly my conservative ones), please take note.

There are discussions about relationships and dating (yes, I know some people who will be concerned by this, but there's nothing really major) and...I think you can skip over most of the part about the trip to Mexico and take in the huevos rancheros recipe instead.

#QuietYA Guest Post with Jaclyn Dolamore

2015-07-13T12:46:00.002-04:00

I am so excited to be part of my dear friends Julie and Rachael Allen's QuietYA posts today! In case you're not sure what this is all about, please check out Rachael's interview with Julie...which happens to be on Julie's blog, found here!

I love Jackie Dolamore and her works for life, so I'm very pleased to be able to share her guest posts on what quiet YAs have her heart. Enjoy!

My favorite YA book is actually a quiet YA. Yes, my FAVORITE. As in, I love it more than Graceling or Seraphina or Eleanor and Park or a whole slew of other really wonderful, but really well-known books. I recommend it every chance I get. If you like historical fiction and you have never read A True and Faithful Narrative by Katharine Sturtevant, well—you MUST. It’s impressively accurate to the time period (17th century England) and deals with a heroine who wants to be a writer. (Sue me, I’m a sucker for those.) It also has a romance that I find exceedingly romantic, because it’s complex and real and develops slowly.

Basically, if you think intelligent people talking to each other with passion is sexy as all get out, then you will love Chapter 10, part 2.

In recent years, I haven’t had much reading time, and unwisely, I went to several book conferences in 2014 anyway and came home with a huge pile of advanced reader copies that I ended up having no time to read. But one I did read, and was pleasantly surprised by, was The Secret Side of Empty by Maria E. Andreu. M.T. is blonde and pale—but she’s also an illegal immigrant from South America, a secret she has managed to keep from her friends until college looms. If I had a book club I’d be begging them to discuss this one, because it is such an interesting take on illegal immigration. But M.T. is also a sympathetic, flawed and interesting heroine.

Tara Kelly’s books are worth a mention, as she finally has a new one coming out, The Foxglove Killings (love that title and cover), and for that matter I just read her 2011 book, Amplified. Both Amplified and her debut Harmonic Feedback deal with music and protagonists who can be a little prickly, a little messed up—but I identify with their flaws and want to see them succeed, and the side characters feel real. But the best thing about Tara’s books to me is just the solid writing—I know I’m going to get a good story, so I’m down for anything she writes!

Although not exactly a young adult NOVEL, I can never shut up about the graphic novel series Thieves and Kings by Mark Oakley, which has a YA sensibility and a Hayao Miyazaki vibe. The characters in this series are just so delightful, and the whole thing feels so richly imagined. The only problem is, I’m not sure he’ll ever write the ending, but you know what, I’m kind of okay with that! I don’t mind imagining these people living on without an ending. It’s one of my favorite story worlds to escape into again and again.
__________________________________________________________________________________

Jaclyn Dolamore was homeschooled in a hippie sort of way and spent her childhood reading as many books as her skinny nerd-body could lug from the library and playing elaborate pretend games with her sister Kate. She skipped college and spent eight years drudging through retail jobs, developing her thrifty cooking skills and pursuing a lifelong writing dream. She has a passion for history, thrift stores, vintage dresses, David Bowie, drawing, and organic food. She lives with her partner and plot-sounding-board, Dade, and three weird cats.

find jaclyn on twitter | visit jaclyn's website

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When you think of QuietYA titles, which come to mind as your favorites? Feel free to share in the comments, and don't forget to enter the giveaway!

[sample sip.] Johnson, E.K.: A Thousand Nights

2015-07-02T21:57:00.005-04:00

sample sip. is a tagline for the knee jerk, i can't wait until the release day thoughts i have right after finishing an arc. it is not a full or final review. nothing is full or final here. except for my patience with myself.

A Thousand Nights
Hitting Shelves: October 6, 2015
Disney*Hyperion

Lo-Melkhiin killed three hundred girls before he came to her village, looking for a wife. When she sees the dust cloud on the horizon, she knows he has arrived. She knows he will want the loveliest girl: her sister. She vows she will not let her be next.

And so she is taken in her sister's place, and she believes death will soon follow. Lo-Melkhiin's court is a dangerous palace filled with pretty things: intricate statues with wretched eyes, exquisite threads to weave the most beautiful garments. She sees everything as if for the last time.But the first sun rises and sets, and she is not dead. Night after night, Lo-Melkhiin comes to her and listens to the stories she tells, and day after day she is awoken by the sunrise. Exploring the palace, she begins to unlock years of fear that have tormented and silenced a kingdom. Lo-Melkhiin was not always a cruel ruler. Something went wrong.

Far away, in their village, her sister is mourning. Through her pain, she calls upon the desert winds, conjuring a subtle unseen magic, and something besides death stirs the air.

Back at the palace, the words she speaks to Lo-Melkhiin every night are given a strange life of their own. Little things, at first: a dress from home, a vision of her sister. With each tale she spins, her power grows. Soon she dreams of bigger, more terrible magic: power enough to save a king, if she can put an end to the rule of a monster.

Goodness.

The utter wealth of this book.

I am at a loss right now for the right words to string together – which is just as well, as I don’t trust myself right now not to spoil everything.

And that is a beautiful thing in itself. This is A Thousand Nights, after all: the timeless classic, the story of the girl who won back her life with carefully woven stories and well-placed cliffhangers. It might seem as though, after years of retelling and renditions, there’s nothing left to spoil.

But you haven’t read this particular story yet.

Here’s what I am allowing myself to tell you:

1. A Thousand Nights is gorgeous. I am not Middle Eastern, but I have shared a meal with Middle Eastern friends, and I could clearly picture the plates, the food, the meats and breads and the pinched morsels between oily fingers. I could smell the spices wafting off the pages, see the goat herds and the humble tents and the bright threads used in a bride’s wedding gown. The language is very carefully chosen and it paints a broad, vibrant world.

2. A Thousand Nights is not about the stories. It is about the woman who uses her wits, so brilliantly, to see the light of day. It is about the woman who forges alliances with those who are worried to let her into their hearts, because they are so aware of the fact that in the morning, she may be another forgotten name as their ruler sets out in quest of a new bride. It is about the woman who is wise, and determined – to set her world to rights, to be strong, and to see the next day with her own eyes.

3. A Thousand Nights is about the women. It is about the women who love devotedly, who sacrifice and lay siege and worship for the sake of each other. It is about sisters and sister-wives and mothers and daughters. It is about protecting young girls and learning at the knees of older women. If there is anything I will likely wax poetic about, beyond the language, it is the women of this world. It is the type of representation and love we should expect from every young adult novel, and exactly what we deserve.

4. A Thousand Nights is not only woven brilliantly - it is woven with respect. A world that is coded brown, and blatantly so, is full of characters who hold their agency firmly. They live, they marry, and they converse without a black cloud of potential stereotypes being unleashed over their heads. It’s unspoiled, because it’s done with care.

5. A Thousand Nights lingers even after you've turned the last page. For much of the reading experience, it may even seem like a quiet title. So much rests in the world-building and the relationships and little acts of magic that are steps forward to larger scenes and crucial defiance. And that is what firmly roots it into your mind. Every little moment is a marvel that leads to a grander denouement.

If you listen long enough to the whispers, you will hear the truth.

Until then, I will tell you this: the world is made safe by a woman.

E.K. Johnson has firmly settled herself into my list of favorite authors. I cannot wait to see what new stories she will spin, and I cannot wait for you to read this and be able to discuss it with me.

Full review (and gushing, and an inevitable discourse on why it's so important to write diversity right) to come.

I would be remiss to end this without thanking my lovely friend Julie, who, when she heard I hadn't been able to snag one on the first day of BEA, finished her own copy and gave it to me. Thank you so much, Julie!

The Teen's Guide to Islam: Ramadan

2015-06-18T19:27:00.000-04:00

Hi!

So, after a kind request from a lovely educator I know on the Interwebs, I decided that perhaps it was time to take on a new project. This project was originally called, “The Teen’s Guide to Islam: The Basics,” but since that original post racked up almost fifty questions from both my own head and sweet, curious contributors, I thought that it might be prudent to break it up into short and sweet topic divisions.

And, seeing as we’re in major moonsighting/stalking masjid website announcement mode, why not introduce you guys to one of the most anticipated months in the entire Islamic calendar?

Hang on tight, my dear readers, because this is…

The Teen’s Guide to Islam: Ramadan

(I could have come up with a cooler title. If I myself was cooler. Alas on both counts.)

So. What is Ramadan, anyway?

Ramadan is the ninth month of the Islamic calendar. (Just so you know, if we were having this conversation in real life, I’d totally sidetrack the entire discussion by singing this. You’re welcome for the adorable and informative earworm.)

There are many reasons why Ramadan is seen as an important and sacred month in the Islamic faith – mainly because a lot of cool and historical stuff is known for occurring within it. But I’ll give you the Cliffs Notes version:

The Qu’ran, our Holy Book, was revealed during Ramadan – specifically on the Night of Power, or Lailatul Qadr. That’s near the end of the month, so let’s talk about that again near the end of the post.
During Ramadan, Muslims who have reached puberty and are in good health do not have food or drink from sunrise to sunset, for all twenty-nine or thirty days it lasts. That’s probably the reason you’ve heard about it recently.
Fasting in Ramadan is one of the Five Pillars of Islamic faith…which we’ll talk about in more depth at a later date. Suffice it to say, it’s very, very important.

Wait, no food or drink? At all? You just don’t eat for thirty days?

No. Don’t worry. That’s not what’s going to happen at all.

When I say that we fast from sunrise to sunset, it means that we get up in the wee hours of the morning when there’s no light outside yet – so, before sunrise, technically.

We eat breakfast (which is called suhoor) and brush our teeth and do whatever else we have to that involves ingesting something – and as a side note, if you know any older Muslim sisters who might get a little cranky with you during this time of year, it’s because if you want to go back to sleep, coffee and chai are a bit of a no-no.

And then we pray Fajr, which is the first prayer of the day, and we either hit the hay again for a little bit of shut eye if we can manage it – or we start getting ready for school or work.

Like a boss.

Credit goes to the talented Tumblr artist, serendipikitty.

(Seriously, I don’t know why people don’t appreciate how metal Muslim students and professionals are around this time of year. You get up earlier than you do to prepare for school, you get your religious time in and then you head into the daily grind. And you don’t get coffee breaks during the day.)

What’s the deal about sighting the moon? Do you worship the moon during this month?

The Islamic calendar follows the patterns of the lunar calendar, which, as the name implies, follows the cycles of the moon. So when we turn out for moon-sighting, we’re literally trying to see the new crescent and figure out if a new Islamic month is starting. This happens year round, not just for Ramadan, but this is the time of year when it’s the most exciting to be part of a big group looking for the moon.

So, TL/DR: it’s not anything religious or devotional to the moon. It’s just science.

I heard Ramadan used to be in the winter. Why did you guys move it to the summer months? Doesn’t that make it harder?

It’s all about the lunar calendar, friend. Eventually, Ramadan will roll back around to the fall and winter months. It definitely makes it harder, but I like to think that eighteen-hour fasting days means more blessings to go around for keeping your cool and being kind to people.

Is there anything else you have to avoid while you’re fasting besides food and drink?

Anything edible. Some people even avoid lip balm, because it might get into their mouth. When we brush our teeth or wash up before prayers, we try not to swallow the water or the toothpaste (which, you know, is already an acceptable and dentist-encouraged practice). Smoking is also discouraged.

Also, this is totally not on the side of eating or drinking, but you’re not supposed to get angry or start fights or be hateful or discriminatory or rude – which, I know, all normal things, but this is a month of blessings, community and unity, and particularly with rising temperatures, it’s easy for some people to get heated. Sometimes, you just have to take a deep breath and let something go.

If something like water goes in your mouth, or you forget and accidentally eat, are you in trouble?

(This question, and the heart of its answer, are thanks to the mind of my wonderful friend Yasmin, one of the Writing with Color moderators. Thanks, Yasmin!)

Believe me, particularly in the early years, this happens to everyone. You’re out, it’s warm, your mouth is dry, you see a water fountain and those blessed little Dixie cups – you’re outside the door and sipping happily before it hits you in your stomach with a lurch.

Oh. It’s Ramadan.

I’m fasting.

Like I’ve already mentioned before, God is merciful. There’s no compulsion or pressure in faith for you to be positively perfect in every single way. We’re only human and we make mistakes and sometimes you think you heard the call to prayer at sundown and you can break fast, but you’re two minutes early.

One of the important aspects of participating in Ramadan is your intention. You had good intentions. You wanted to fast. I’ve always been taught that if you accidentally slip up, you just restate your intention to fast and continue forward with the rest of the day. No blaming, no guilt.

Yasmin adds, “My non-fasting friends are really good about reminding me if I ever forget and reach for food, but it almost always happens every Ramadan and it’s not a big deal.”

What can you do when you’re fasting?

We are encouraged to do things that improve the world around us. Another facet of fasting is having empathy with those who are poor and needy and who do not have the privilege of eating during the day, if at all. A lot of Muslims volunteer in soup kitchens, prepare meals for needy families in their area, and give charity.

Muslims also devote themselves to reading the Qu’ran, particularly in its entirety and most often in Arabic, since that was the language it was revealed in. And, though it’s not mandatory, you’ll see a majority of masjids and community centers performing evening prayers after the last prayer of the day, Isha.

These prayers are called Taraweeh and are considered an extra good deed to perform during this month, as well as a way to mingle with other Muslims in the community and spend some devotional time together.

Are there any reasons you could get out of fasting?

Yes – and let me add for any Muslim teens reading along at home (hi, lovelies): do not feel embarrassed if you need to break your fast. Do not feel embarrassed if you aren’t fasting to begin with. You are fine. You’re still participating in a Holy Month.

In the second chapter of the Qu’ran, verse 185, note after the description of fasting in Ramadan that it continues on with, “…Whoever is ill or on a journey – then an equal number of days. God intends for you ease and does not intend for you hardship…”

It’s right there in the Holy Book. If you’re ill, elderly, travelling or under a similar stress, you’re okay. You will have to make those days up later on in the year, but our faith stresses that there is no compulsion in religion. You don’t have to make yourself even sicker when God has told you that it’s okay to take a break.

This year, there’s been a lot of questions about kids with eating disorders, and the general consensus is that this falls under this same criterion: if you feel like this will be a stress on you, it’s okay. You can get up with your family in the morning if you want to. You can attend prayers and events and lectures. You can feed a fasting member of your family or in your friend circle.

Just remember that God also wants us to take care of ourselves.

Do little kids have to fast, too?

Actually, no. The official guideline is that when you reach puberty, you should be fasting for the entire month. Adding in considerations about maturity, health, weight, long fasting hours during the summer and other variables, little kids are generally discouraged to fast – for full days, at least.

I know I’m not the only Muslim kid who started out with half-fasting days. That meant my parents told me I could fast until the early afternoon, eat lunch, and then fast for the remaining hours left in the day, if I wanted to. That way, the kid feels like they are participating, are not placing strain on their bodies, and feel pretty darn good about life all around.

Of course, there are smooth operators like my younger cousin who sneak in full days sometimes by just not eating at the cut-off time. And, okay, I did that a few times myself. As long as kids are getting up with their parents and not fasting the entire month, though, they should be all good.

Is there any way I could help you while you’re fasting?

First of all, can I sincerely say how sweet you are?

Thank you.

Okay, first of all…I know this time of year, Tumblr in particular will be passing around a post that pretty much says Muslims can’t look at food pictures or their fast will be broken and to tag all food posts accordingly.

Now, I’m going to get all mythbuster here, folks. We can totally look at pictures of food. We just tend to not want to, for obvious reasons.

(Well, most normal Muslims do. A few Ramadans, I’ve gotten in trouble with friends for browsing Foodgawker in their immediate vicinity.)

That said, it’s a very sweet thought to tag your food posts, or anything you feel might break someone’s concentration on Ramadan, so don’t be afraid to do that. I know a lot of Muslim teens online who appreciate that.

Beyond that, I’d think I would just suggest general kindness and friendship. Be aware that your Muslim friend is fasting and be respectful of that (ie. playing a game of, “Let me wave this lunch in her face!” is something I know you wouldn’t do and is obviously a no-no).

So after Ramadan ends, what comes next?

Eid al-Fitr, which is literally what I hear most little kids looking forward to right now (even though we’re just starting Ramadan).

Slow your roll, kiddos.

Eid al-Fitr translates to mean the “Festival of Breaking the Fast,” and, like the name suggests, means that we get to celebrate the end of a beautiful month with our families and friends.

Eid al-Fitr begins with a communal prayer that everyone is encouraged to attend. After the prayer, everyone is supposed to remain seated quietly while a sermon is delivered – usually on how we should carry the virtues and kindness of Ramadan in our hearts for the rest of the remaining year.

And then, everyone exchanges Eid greetings and disperses to wherever else they may be celebrating.

I can’t speak for how others celebrate it, but in our community, there is usually a trip to Six Flags or an amusement park planned by the masjid or community center so the kids can enjoy themselves. My family personally doesn’t really dig amusement parks, so we tend to get together at a family member’s house, eat good food and watch a few movies.

So you get to eat on Eid, right?

It is a festival! But yes, fasting on Eid is forbidden. That’s why moonsighting the night before Eid might be just as or even more anticipated than for Ramadan. Also, you might see a lot of families discussing whether or not their communities have decided on the same day for Eid. That’s why. There’s always worry that someone will either skip the celebration or be the person sitting in the corner and still fasting while everyone else eats.

Wait, not everyone does Eid the same day?

It’s a major issue, every year. In a nutshell, it all boils down to whether or not you follow the pre-calculated calendars or if you’d rather wait to see if the moon is sighted before you start Ramadan. Of course, at the end of the twenty-nine or thirty days, there’s another moon sighting for Eid, but if you started a day ahead or a day later, your community might have a different projected end date.

Thankfully, the last two years – at least in my area – has seen agreement between both the precalculated dates and the moonsighting committees. So here’s hoping to many more!

You mentioned something before about a Night of Power?

Thank you for reminding me! The Night of Power, or Lailatul Qadr, is the night on which the Qu’ran was revealed to the Prophet, Peace Be Upon Him. It falls on one of the odd-numbered nights in the very last days of Ramadan, and Muslims tend to stay up on any of those odd-numbered nights, devoting themselves to prayer and meditation, because it is considered a night of great blessing and spiritual benefit.

Usually, people take the 27^th as the day when Lailatul Qadr is most likely to be, but that’s not confirmed or sealed in concrete.

One last question: could I share Ramadan with you?

Dude, of course. Why not? Interfaith events and friends sharing and experiencing Ramadan is one of the coolest things. Feel free to try a day of fasting, or even half-fasting, which is something a lot of religious communities do in solidarity and friendship. If you want, you can also prepare food for a friend to break fast with – which is something that Muslims encourage for extra blessing – or accept an invitation to join a family (or your local masjid!) for Iftar.

To me, the heart of Ramadan is in kindness and humanity. If you want to be part of that, that’s just beautiful and exactly in the spirit of things. Thank you for being so sweet and awesome.

Have another question about Ramadan or a question for the Teen Guides in general? Feel free to leave a comment, and Ramadan Mubarak to all!

story begets story. [1] - jewel-toned: the genre.

2015-06-14T16:03:00.000-04:00

(i feel the need to type in lowercase today. just roll with it.)

so, i formerly used to file any ruminations on my writing under "as i #amwriting." however, after quality time spent with creative luminaries and dear bookish friends such as miriam weinberg, i decided to rename the feature/series/what have you and segue into a more personal approach.

which is hard because...i'm me. and when we put the words personal and writing together, i feel the need to run for the hills or crawl beneath the bed or sit on top of my printed outlines and notes like a child wanting to hide that incriminating chocolate bar wrapper.

but i'm trying to work through that. so here we are.

so. the theory of "jewel-toned" as a genre is all thanks to activist and friend heather ure, who presented it in a conversation we were having the other day about sarah mccarry's recent interview with online teen girl magazine and fount of inspiration rookie.

(sarah mccarry is incredible. so is rookie. just putting that out there.)

see? my kind of people.

there are certain authors with works that i cannot help but refer to in the language of gemstones.

and, it should also be noted, they are all women because i'm here for women writers first and foremost and always and i'm not afraid to admit that i read stories about girls all the time and have little to no interest if a story involves a man's voice or a man's point of view or a man sorrowfully declining into middle age because the girl of his dreams couldn't take his continuous self-pity and attempts to deny her own agency.

i will add the caveat that i do know several male authors who have works coming out that might very well be deemed jewel-toned later on in and around the premises of this blog and i'll be very happy to promote them, too. but ladies first and always.

now, i've been a snarl of tangled, knotted creative inactivity this week. which is inexcusable. i'm out of school. no papers pending. i'm a summer child and the temperature is climbing and i've had ice cream today and frozen yogurt yesterday and worn my favorite set of flowery sandals. and yet, the magic is not happening.

and this, in a roundabout way, is actually why this is now story begets story.

it'd been so long since i could read something in my category (which, of course, is first and foremost ya and then fantasy and possibly magical realism) without it devolving into self-flagellation and the firm decision that i cannot, will not write anything as beautiful and thus, i should not write, and thus, i should instead devour my weight in chocolate and mope and act miserable, since, i am so therefore i write and not writing may well be the same as not drinking the right amount of water.

and then, while waiting in the line for these shallow graves with my dear miriam, she happened to notice the poster for uprooted by naomi novik.

"it's very much a kaye thing!" she said.

"you won't regret reading it!" she said.

and though i was quite sure that yes, i'd be entirely immobilized in terms of creativity for perhaps years afterwards because naomi novik is one of those luminaries you always hear about and tread about carefully for the sake of your own floundering aspirations - i believed miriam.

(as one always should.)

and i read it.

(as one always should.)

and thus, i remembered that to write stories, you do have to read them, too - even the bad ones, though uprooted certainly isn't bad by any means, and, if anything, was refreshing to read through as though it were a one-woman writing course i was taking, routing out plot twists and making note of foreshadowing and the magic system.

so, now that you've suffered through all that, back to the actual theme of this post.

which is, jewel-toned.

and yes, i think it does stand as a genre - if anything, perhaps a genre within certain genres. you probably know what i mean. have you ever read a work and felt that the author just knows the right way to handle words, how to string them together and bring tears to your eyes from the beauty, or perhaps sucker-punch you in the gut because of the world and humanity and goodness knows how uncomplicated this premise sounded until you actually opened the cover?

that. yes, that.

sarah mccarry's first two ya novels (of which, i'll confess, i've only read the first one) focuses on breathing fresh life into ancient greek myths. under the framework of a dead rock star's enduring empire and mother-daughter relationships, there's the familiar underwire of orpheus and eurydice. i mean, i went through an entire greek myth binge in like fifth grade so this shouldn't be entirely surprising, but it's not just the story line and the unique edgy flair.

it's the texture. (thank you, dear creative writing professor, for leaving that word firmly planted in my head.) it's the way the words just jangle or slide together or lead you downward like an elegant spiral staircase, one rung after another, because if the stairs themselves are lovely, elegant, velvet-encased marvels, what is waiting for you at the bottom?

indeed, jewel-toned, hued, encrusted marvels.


i think i must be a dragon at heart. because looking at these gems make my heart race.

bonus points can and are always given for stories lovingly told about girls and women - from the hearts and hands of girls and women. there is nothing like being a teenage girl, sprawled out in the middle of a trampoline with a popsicle on one hand (yes, this image is autobiographical) and reading a story that celebrates you and girls like you and encourages you to keep on keeping on.

it can be an epic road trip novel (and as i'll write later on in the week or possibly next week, when i have a smorgasbord of summer reading posts planned, road trip novels are my kryptonite, right after feminist young adult anything). it can be a deep, dark fantasy.

but if the words are lush and lovely and the story rings true, i think it should qualify as jewel-toned.

like i already said, i don't think sarah's the only one who has a knack for this. like she herself says in that magnificent interview, "...i am one tiny strand on this huge gorgeous messy jewel-bedazzled web of girl genius."

note to self: take up cross-stitching this summer for real, so you can make that into a sampler or something.

anyway. jewel-toned. authors i already know and love. got it.

if you've familiar with this blog - with me, at all - you know how i feel about nova ren suma. imaginary girls gives you complicated sister dynamics and haunting magical realism. every time i talk about this title to someone, i have to admit that from the cover inward, it gives every sensation of being submerged underwater. today is incidentally its debut anniversary, which makes it all the more wonderful to mention it.

i didn't properly review it when it came out - which i ought to, as it gave me such complicated feelings - but also, nova's newest, the walls around us. a toxic friendship. murderous ballerinas. a dank prison. it's incredible and if it wasn't awesome enough being from nova's hands, it's also from the hands of the lovely people at algonquin, which might be my favorite young adult publisher.

along with macmillan.

and scholastic.

i feel sometimes that laura ruby and nova go hand in hand - perhaps because i love them both and they always have good things to say about each other and they are just both sweet, honest-to-goodness supportive people in general? but bone gap. bone. gap. it's another title that i received last year and was super excited for and didn't get around to reviewing...soooo i'll just have to indulge in a reread at some point this summer so i actually can.

laini taylor is another given, and it's funny because i used to read her stories just to lament the fact that i'd never, ever be able to write like her, while adoring her for being so entirely honest and sweet about her own struggles with anxiety and imposter syndrome and such. (if you haven't read her static writing advice blog, not for robots, take this as your reminder to do so now.)

but a few nights ago, i was re-reading spicy little curses such as these and besides being rather disillusioned with the colonialist-centric twist on indian culture and lore, i was relieved to realize that i could read it exactly as i read uprooted - enjoying the language and the structure, but not demonizing my own creativity.

(and, as a note, criticizing the world and the decisions made in spicy little curses does not mean that i am degrading or dragging laini as a whole. every time i've interacted with her, she's been very personable and kind. but, authors grow and so do readers and it's nice to realize that i can see that, even if it's subtle and likely drawn from research rather than personal viewpoints or beliefs, and know that i want brown girl, jewel-toned luminosity.

also, a general desire to write brown girl, jewel-toned luminosity.

more on the former in a few.)

this post would, of course, not be complete without reminding you that fantasy is and always will be my first love, and when we talk fantasy, we have to talk about victoria "queen of awesome" schwab. the near witch. the archived. vicious. she is one of those authors that only gets better with every new title and she's incredible and also delightful to talk to and i don't think you could regret reading her at all.

now, moving on to people i've heard write around this sort of theme or with that flair and i haven't read yet, or mean to read in the name of restoring my creative well. which are actually a lot of people, but before i get into it...i've been sitting here, wracking my mind, to think up diverse, jewel-toned young adult novels.

the first person who came to mind was jackie woodson, who is rightfully lauded for brown girl dreaming, which is most definitely on my reading list this summer but is actually considered a middle grade, i think? i've also heard good things about padma venkatraman and a time to dance.

to me, when i think brown girl, i think the jewel-toned genre. not in the name of isolation or barring anyone, because every girl needs to be applauded and loved and emphasized with. perhaps it is more recently amplified because of my wondrous friend shveta thakrar, who i fully expect and anticipate to be gracing shelves as the desi answer to holly black very soon (note: holly is another edgy, luminous author whose works i've only dipped my toe into, but i do have the darkest part of the forest sitting here, so more on her very soon).

shveta takes the theory of jewel-toned in language and legacy so very much to heart. i read her poetry and her short stories and i feel that brown girls have beautiful faces, warm hearts, bravery down to our marrow. i feel we can stand head-to-head with any other heroine in any other fantasy.

without breaking down into a discussion of just how and why diversity and representation matter, to me, shveta just exemplifies the "genre" and what it means to me and what it does to me when i read it.

i'm also thinking of pointe by brandy colbert and the little i read of that (and must return to), and alaya dawn johnson's love is the drug that i snagged last bea and unfortunately misplaced but am determined to find and take up properly.

in terms of poc men authors, i'm very, very excited for daniel jose older's shadowshaper, which features a heroine and a gorgeous cover. i should have an arc of that winging its way to me, courtesy of the already mentioned and praised and still utterly wonderful miriam weinberg, so more on that soon-ish.

i am still trying to think of others, but let's just continue with this already ridiculously long-winded post with what we've got.

i've heard very good things, for years and years, about francesca lia block. i've only just picked up my first by her, love in the time of global warming (that title. that cover. and, as an added bonus, more greek mythology renditions!) and will taste test for myself, while keeping in mind what my dear friend debbie reese has analyzed about native american representation in her books, particularly weetzie bat.

nova has also always had good things to say about kat rosenfield. i've got my eye on inland, in particular. (i must be some sort of water baby. those blue-hued covers just get to me.)

speaking of people whose recommendations i always, always, always trust, my lady kelly jensen has had good things to say about the spaces between trees, the in-between and without tess for those dreamy, discordant imaginary girls feels.

honestly, i have a whole list of titles and a pocketful of crumpled library lists and i'm sure my cup runneth over in terms of recommendations and a selection to feast upon over this season. and it's wonderful. i'm glad that i can write a long post like this dedicated to books that i feel have always warmed and inspired me from the inside out. i'm glad to be looking forward and seeking out more like them.

and even if i still can't seem to settle down to write, i'm glad that these books give me hope that i can.

now. do you think "jewel-toned" as a genre - or even just a theme - makes sense? do you think it might just be an offshoot of that particular feeling you get from an incredibly woven magical realism? (which, as you can probably tell, is another of my particular kryptonites.) what authors or titles fit in this atmosphere for you?

and, most importantly, any recommendations you're willing to share? (spill, spill, spill! particularly if it's magical realism. or horror. or both.)

a side note: if you know me and i know you and i haven't mentioned your wonderful writing or your wonderful self, it is totally okay to remind me of your existence in the comments. really.

(and just this side note reminded me of another person whose stories have heart and beauty: claire legrand. middle grade. young adult. yes, yes, yes.)

okay. i'm done.

[sample sip.] Nijkamp, Marieke: This Is Where It Ends

2015-06-02T20:00:00.000-04:00

Hitting Shelves: January 2016 (yes, i'm way ahead of the game with this one)
Sourcebooks Fire

10:00 a.m.
The principal of Opportunity, Alabama's high school finishes her speech, welcoming the entire student body to a new semester and encouraging them to excel and achieve.

10:02 a.m.
The students get up to leave the auditorium for their next class.

10:03
The auditorium doors won't open.

10:05
Someone starts shooting.

Told over the span of 54 harrowing minutes from four different perspectives, terror reigns as one student's calculated revenge turns into the ultimate game of survival.

Now, I admit to being a wee bit, shall we say, testy, when it comes to Tumblr tags.

Well, more like, commonly used Tumblr tags.

(Which to say, if you use the words, guys why aren't we talking about, or its twin, can we talk about, or THIS NEEDS MORE NOTES BOOST BOOST BOOST - I will reach for my teacup, take a soothing, silent sip with my eyes firmly clenched shut.

And scroll by.

No. I'm kidding. I just do that for the Benedict Cumberbatch posts now.

Goodness only knows that man doesn't need my boosting.)

But, my knee-jerk, first things first thought on closing This Is Where It Ends could be summed up in three words.

"I'm not okay."

And that, I think, is okay. Because this is a book that ends on a note that you should absolutely, 100% not be okay with.

This Is Where It Ends is deeply, darkly visceral and gripping. It takes you by the throat and tugs you downward into emotional compromise and utter panic. It all too realistically portrays every parent or guardian's nightmare and the event that every student cannot imagine occurring on their campus, to their friends, in their lifetime.

In the span of 54 minutes - just 54 - every student and faculty member present in the auditorium of Opportunity High School, Alabama, is fighting for their lives against one boy, one of their own. Only now, instead of being their brother or classmate or ex-boyfriend...

He's the boy with the gun.

I mean, the summary alone should tell you what's coming. I'm not sure how I still was so detached from what was coming at the very beginning, but Marieke makes sure to acclimate you to the assembled cast. They are ordinary, wonderfully diverse American teens. They are bored by the principal's default sermon to usher in the new semester, worried about younger siblings or fraying relationships or trouble at home.

They are all expecting to stand up, gather their belongings and file off to their relevant classrooms.

And that's what starts to drive this home, as things go from bad to...I don't know, is there something past utterly wrong and tormenting? What frightens us about a school shooting is that it can happen anywhere. On my campus, we talk in orientation about what we should do, where we should go, who we should listen to. We're introduced to the emergency phones, the fire escapes, the concept of being calm, quiet and orderly no matter what catastrophe has us in its clutches.

But there's a difference between hearing about that and being thrust headlong into it.

And, though everyone in This Is Where It Ends reacts differently, I had to tear up and press my fist to my mouth for all of them. Because you never know how you will react. You never know what action may be the last you take on - even if it's something that will make you a hero.

The narrative is beautiful, equalizing and real. I gave a particularly watery smile in a moment where Tomas and Fareed, best friends and brothers no matter what - in a situation where it truly, deeply counts and cuts into you - are doing their best to rescue their classmates, friends and siblings.

Even in that moment, waiting for some sort of outside help and trying to form a solid strategy, Tomas spares a thought for Fareed and how, with his Afghani heritage, accent and Muslim faith, he may seem a threat to the police officers rather than a hero:

Next thing, they'll mark him as a suspect. It wouldn't be the first time. Things happen in the school, and he gets questioned, even when it doesn't concern him at all. I hate it.

You know me. Even when my heart is in my throat and I'm turning pages as fast as I can without cutting myself, I've got that eye for Muslim representation.

I found myself getting very reluctantly attached to all the teens, but Fareed in particular had me closing my eyes and telepathically wiring messages to Marieke's brain: Marieke, I love you. You wouldn't do this to me, right? ...Right?

(For all the scientifically minded, the fact that Marieke has shown no sign of receiving said messages concludes that we have yet to break the telepathic barrier.

Or maybe it's just me and you should get a better test subject.

Anyway - and avert your eyes, because this may or may not be a spoiler! - she didn't do it to me. She's evil. But not that evil.)

I think the thing that hit me the hardest about This Is Where It Ends is that skillful blend of tragedy and hope, darkness and light. Some of it felt a little strange to me - a first kiss in the middle of worrying over a wounded, potentially dying sibling, for instance - but I'm holding off on the judgey side because, again, who the heck knows what they'd do in a particular situation when they don't know what else is going to happen?

I certainly don't. And I have plenty of witnesses that can confirm that I don't claim to know everything. Okay? Okay.

But, overall...the ending. It just catches in your throat. Nothing is going to be okay. I started the preview off on that note. I'm telling you right now, guys. Nothing is going to be okay.

Newtown happened. The Aurora shooting happened. Columbine happened. Everyday, there's something vicious and violent that bites down into our world and rips families and friends and loved ones apart, leaving us to grieve with no proper answers and no promise that we'd ever feel whole or healed again.

It's not okay. It's never okay. But one way or another, we will never forget. And we will never lose hope.

"We will remember them tomorrow. We will remember them for all our tomorrows. And there will be many tomorrows; there will be thousands of them. So let's make them good ones. We are Opportunity, and we will not be afraid.

We are Opportunity, and we will live."

Full review to come.

I will warn you, though, since Ashleigh Paige warned me...there will be tears. Lots of tears. Invest in a nice, sturdy, loving box of Kleenex. You'll thank me later.

[sample sip.] Ness, Patrick: The Rest of Us Just Live Here

2015-05-13T20:32:00.004-04:00

sample sip. is a tagline for the knee-jerk, i can't wait until the release date thoughts i have right after finishing an arc. it's not a full or final review. nothing is full or final here. except for my patience with myself.

Hitting Shelves: August 27, 2015
Walker Books

What if you weren’t the Chosen One?

What if you’re not the one who’s so often the hero in YA fiction; who’s supposed to fight the zombies, or the soul-eating ghosts, or whatever this new thing is, with the blue lights and the death? What if you were like Mikey? Who just wants to graduate and go to prom and maybe finally work up the courage to ask Henna out before someone goes and blows up the high school. Again. Because sometimes there are problems bigger than this week’s end of the world and sometimes you just have to find the extraordinary in your ordinary life. Even if your best friend might just be the God of mountain lions...

Well. This was a wild ride from start to finish.

Before I start off with the rambling, I'm going to do something very unconventional. Not that anything I've written here has ever been conventional. I'm dedicating this post, like it's a finished manuscript or something I plan to publish.

I'm all full of feels right now, you see, and it feels appropriate.

In the middle of finals and BEA prep and goodness knows what else is currently slipping my mind, I owe my even taking a break and reading this title to my best friend Moira. She asked me if I'd heard of The Rest of Us Just Live Here, I admitted that I'd just been approved for an e-ARC, and for the first time since I first started attending BEA and actually called her at one point while waiting in line to meet Libba Bray, just to ground myself in the midst of all the...BEA-ness, she asked me if I could bring a copy back for her.

Just this ARC.

You guys, Moira is the Jared to my Mike. Or maybe, the Mel to my Mike would be more appropriate. She's like family, and she's better because I got to choose her. (Let's just ignore the fact there are fundamental differences between me and Mike, and Moira and Jared. You get the idea.) She's my voice of reason, the one who often uncurls me when I've become a fisted wad of anxiety. So, far be it from me to deny her a future possibility of an ARC for review when I had a copy on my Kindle.

So I started reading it right then and there.

And thus, it's all Moira's fault. Like most things are. Including this blog.

Now, first things first.

I am a ridiculously picky contemporary reader. I've talked about this in other posts and I think at least one guest post and to the air in front of me, but ever since I was actually a teen (like, circa 2007-ish), it's been really hard to whet my reading appetite with anything that wasn't fantasy or historical or involved dragons and heroines with shiny swords.

That said - The Rest of Us Just Live Here is the first book to have me hanging on every word since probably How to Say Goodbye in Robot.

(How to Say Goodbye in Robot is the holy grail of contemporary favorites for me. It hasn't been knocked off its pedestal yet).

You can probably already tell by the summary, but Patrick Ness is a pretty cool sort of author-guy and he decided that writing about the Chosen One(s) isn't as exciting as writing about all the people who have to deal with living in the same world as the Chosen One(s) and their invaluable quests/prophecies/what have you.

So, we're in a small town in the state of Washington, where there are vampires falling in love with humans and vice versa and kids being chosen to save their world and the school constantly being demolished by some catastrophe or other...

And we're following the lives of a group of friends who are discussing the new boy in class and their homework projects and graduation.

It's like being in Forks and not having it be all about Bella. (Seriously, this town reminds me a lot of Forks, which I'm not sure was meant on purpose or not.) Or, maybe, being at Hogwarts and not getting to hear about the Golden Trio except in snatches of rumor and third-person eyewitnesses - if Hogwarts were a high school where indie kids are the ones constantly having brushes with danger and everyone else tries to look out for themselves and worry about the important stuff like, you know, that big argument with a parent and anxiety over life as we know it and painful, deep, unrequited love.

As if that wasn't juicy enough in the best way, the chapter headings. I could write a whole, full review on the chapter headings. Just try me.

(I'm already sitting on my hands because I'm trying to remind myself that this is a placeholder review and a reminder to myself to actually review the whole thing when it releases for once, and I really want to because I was so fascinated with the possibility of discussing nitty-gritty details and I might even do a trial vlog for you guys, that's how hyped up I am.)

To me, the biggest selling points you can use on someone to recommend this book are the little "meanwhile, back in the fraught life of our current Chosen One" intervals you see in every chapter heading (it's the greatest thing), and the dialogue. Ness absolutely has his teen speak down and it's all very real and there's humor and there's also angst (though some angst was more hard-hitting to me than others, but remember that I'm not and have never been a teenage boy, so it might be very powerful for them) and as a result, some of the lines in this title are solid gold.

"Which Finn?" my sister says. "Aren't all the indie kids called Finn?"

"I think there are a couple Dylans," Henna says, "and a Nash."

"There are two Satchels, I know that," I say. "A boy Satchel and a girl Satchel."

(I'm sorry if no one else thinks that's worth a few karats. But I did. You can chalk it up to finals taxing my nerves, if you want.)

And, if all of that wasn't good enough, there's diversity. I guess some people would call it "casual diversity". I call it life. Henna's biracial. Jared's half-Jewish. There are enough people alluded to, here and there, for you to know that THIS IS REAL LIFE AND THERE ARE DIFFERENT, REAL PEOPLE HERE.

There are also discussions about eating disorders and OCD and anxiety and how it feels to constantly want reassurance and feel like a needy, greedy mess because of it. I totally felt that, and I'm saving the quote that made a lump rise in my throat for the actual review, because I'm going too far here already.

And, just so no one comes after me with the pitchforks once they get a copy of this and say, "You really oversold this one in that ARC sneak peek/reactionary "I just came home from university and sat down and wrote this in half an hour when I should have been studying" post of yours, Kaye!"...

You know what, guys? It's not positively perfect in every single way. I can admit that, and that might just be my bias as a picky reader. I'll have to talk with you about all of this and all the questions I still have and what I originally expected and how not getting all of it was absolutely okay at a later date, but I'm absolutely aware not everyone will like this.

But I think you'll find it a little hard not to.

At least a teensy bit.

(And if all of this coming from me doesn't make you at least curious?

Try reading it to the very end and seeing that nice, lovely blurb from that nice, lovely person known as Angie Manfredi. I cannot say how much I trust that lady enough. She's good people, and she's good people who knows her YA titles.

So, if you won't take it from me, take it from Angie. Who, you know, is a librarian and full-fledged professional while I'm still here procrastinating on papers and having passionate outbursts about post-colonial South Asia.)

Full review to come.

Diversify! - [Let's Level] The Real Issues of Muslim Representation, Part I

2015-04-12T20:18:00.000-04:00

This afternoon, the wonderful Angie Manfredi (librarian extraordinaire and diversity advocate) linked me and author Aisha Saeed to the 2015 official poster for Banned Books Week. This poster is currently available in the ALA Store and can be viewed there, but for my readers, I’m also adding it below.

Angie wanted our reactions as Muslim women, and mine was almost instantaneous. I spent another five minutes trying to give ALA, and the designers, the benefit of the doubt. But it soon became clear that I just couldn’t. It was just too blatant, and many other friends, both Muslim and non-Muslim, reacted with the same discomfort and anger.

If you look at the image, you can see that the design forms a veil over the model’s face. That, coupled with the fact that the model is otherwise dressed rather “skimpily”, in Angie’s words, quickly draws the mind to the usual stereotypes about the oppressed, repressed Muslim woman, smothered by her veil and her “backwards” faith.*

(I’ve heard this directed at me so many times, but typing it out always gives me another little twinge of irritation.)

Added on top of this already problematic suggestion is the accompanying text: a big, red “Readstricted,” and the fine print that reads, “Warning: Banning Books Restricts Our Freedom to Read.”

I’m not going to lie: in 2015, coming up on the anniversary of the initial #WeNeedDiverseBooks campaign, from an organization that has a young hijaabi librarian that I personally know as one of its 2015 Emerging Leaders…

I am not amused. I am not amused at all.

Since I know I can get incoherent when on a tear, I’m parsing this down to two main points.

(Honestly, I’m a big fan of three, since three is a magic number and all, but…let’s stick to the basics of this situation and why it’s concerning.)

Point #1: It doesn’t do any favors for Muslim women. At all.

(And yes, this is an argument I’ve already heard several times during this discussion. As always, it is primarily pressed forward by non-Muslim men who claim that protesting against the poster silences the realities of Muslim women and said poster is necessary for the sake of a discussion on women’s rights.

Yes. There are people who will bring this argument into a discussion with an actual hijaabi Muslim woman.)

So, let’s say this argument about education is on the table. Let me give you a scenario. A reader walks into the library. This poster is on the wall. As we’ve said before, a consensus of viewers cannot see this image as anything other than a Muslim veil – and they’ve tried to see around that. This reader sees this picture. They talk to a librarian who will likely be kind-hearted and doing her job in talking about Banned Books Week…

And no discussion will be held.

If anything, this is just another drop in the bucket – a VERY, VERY full bucket – of stereotypes surrounding the Muslim woman. Stereotypes that arm racists and bigots and perpetuate their cycle of tearing us down and making assumptions about our faith, while insisting that they are doing so for “our own good”.

And let’s be clear, these stereotypes – this poster – will come back to harm Muslims, and Sikhs, and Hindus, and anyone is unfortunate enough to be targeted by someone who is fueled by hate and won’t bother to tell the difference.

Just look at Chapel Hill.

A lot of times, stereotypes are presented as the education. This is what we know (from our own assumptions, our own dismissal and ignorance we do not want corrected). This is what you, the next generation, should know.

And, briefly going back to my mention of the very important #WeNeedDiverseBooks campaign, I in no way intend to imply that WNDB is the end of things. As a participant and former member, I can tell you that it was important. It changed people’s minds. It opened up hearts and discussions and fostered encouragement and ideas. It still is.

But, also speaking as a participant and former member who waded through so many negative remarks and prejudiced backlash, I can tell you that WNDB did not fix everything. This, from ALA of all people, proves that. We still have work to do in the industry.

Not the least of which being that we have such a sad dearth of Muslim titles in YA for readers, Muslim and non-Muslim, to look to for reality and debunking of stereotypes and a breath of fresh air. If this poster is hanging up, and there are so few titles to point out why it is a problem, where is this discourse going to manifest from?

If anything, these voices that pipe up only when Muslim women are already laying down the hammer on why a certain form of representation is problematic – throwing around phrases like “it has nuance” and “an important discussion for the reality of Muslim women’s lives” – are just a marker of the problem.

Just ask them to give you solid statistics, or coherent anecdotes aside from the media or some skewed form of fictional representation, or even ask them if they know a Muslim woman personally. Either it turns to vitriol – or sometimes, they even admit that they don’t know and maybe they should educate themselves a little more.

We do not need voices like these pressing forward stereotypes – particularly when we have incredible Muslim women in the arts, in America and on an international scale, who can speak and address issues they face for themselves.

From L to R: Patricia Dunn, Aisha Saeed, Sabaa Tahir and G. Willow Wilson - four brilliant, outspoken Muslim-American authors. Dunn, Saeed and Tahir are directly involved in the YA community, while Wilson contributes through the Marvel Pakistani-American superhero Ms. Marvel.

But anyway, like I said today, the best thing these naysayers can do for Muslim women if they are so very concerned is pay attention to the voices that are part of the discourse, boost Muslim women's responses to situations like this – and please, please educate themselves.

Point #2: This poster has the strong potential to isolate and hurt Muslim students and library patrons.

I am not the only Muslim girl I know (or girl of faith, period!) who considers the library to be her safe space.

When I first saw the poster, I tried to picture how I’d feel if I walked in during Banned Books Week and saw it in a place of honor at my local library.

And I’ll be honest with you. I felt defeated. I felt hurt. I felt as though all these discussions about freedom in our reading and welcoming children from all backgrounds were going in one ear and out the other.

Now, just think about the psychological effects on children – and adults, even. A non-Muslim friend pointed out that she even felt uncomfortable and saddened just looking at the poster, and she couldn’t imagine how a Muslim child, walking into the library to take advantage of the services and books, would feel upon seeing it.

It’s very clear from a hijaabi perspective, but non-hijaabis are just as affected by the daily battle with Islamophobia.

I meant to write on this last month, but School Library Journal’s article on supporting the conservative reader was beautiful. It was an acknowledgement of the fact that different readers with different tastes and experiences turn to the library for nourishment.

It brought back all the warm feelings I had for my library and the wonderful, lovely librarians in the wake of Hurricane Sandy, where it stood as a beacon of electricity and heat and education while schools were forced to remain closed and houses were cold and dark.

That is the feeling I’ve always had when I’ve thought of libraries and librarians. It’s why I want to be a librarian. And this poster can undo that in just minutes, for so many readers.

To me, that’s inexcusable. It’s cruel. It needs to be corrected.

And so now, after all that, what can we do?

For one, we can sign this petition that is currently being passed around. (If you need to take heart after all of this, just look at the reasons listed for signing the petition. There are lots of wonderful people already behind it.)

We can continue to discuss the repercussions of this poster should it continue to be on sale, and steps to take in order to protest it further.

But to me, the fact that this poster was okayed by a national organization is just another indicator on how far we have to go with Muslim representation and voices in the industry – and with voices for diversity, period.

* A few Muslim friends did not immediately see the veil, but they did feel instantly uncomfortable, which is also worth noting.

Update (4/13/2015):

As of writing this update, the petition now has 282 supporters, including Muslim librarians and the incomparable Rukhsana Khan, children's' book author.

ALA wrote a response to the discussion this afternoon that you can read here. I am glad that they did acknowledge the issues of the poster and, as far as I understand, are going to be discussing an alternative poster design.

I do have a few concerns, but I'd like to note that this is a very polite and pleasant response to the situation and I am grateful that they are willing to continue the discussion and are open to hearing why the poster was upsetting.

I also wanted to note that, immediately after ALA's response was posted, I received several messages that urged me to take down this post, or informed me that I was being too sensitive in this post or in creating the petition.

I did not create the petition. As written in the body of this post, I was linked to this petition by a librarian friend and it already had 20+ responses.

In addition, this post will remain up as a reference on the situation for people who are unsure what the discussion is about. It was not worded in a way to offend ALA, who are handling this situation quite well and diplomatically, and I see no reason why it would need to be removed.

Thank you to everyone who has passed this post around or felt that it helped them understand the situation!

In Memoriam: Sir Terry Pratchett.

2015-03-12T18:01:00.000-04:00

It is hard to sum up the exact sensation I felt, earlier today, when I happened upon Rhianna Pratchett's tweet that read quite simply: "The End."

I think first, there was this brief electric moment of dread. Please, no, not today, not this year. It is utterly childish to add on, Not ever, but isn't that what we always feel, in the moments when we have a good book sprawled over our knees or its talented creator before us with a twinkle in their eye and a hand extended for a shake.

It's particularly hard to swallow, on days like these, that everything is so brief and fleeting and dishearteningly finite.

And now, a fount of wisdom and whimsy has been stopped up for good. And all we can think is, What a great, great loss. Because that is what it is.

(http://rt.com/uk/240213-pratchett-dies-best-quotes/)

Unlike many of my friends also mourning today, I was not quite raised on Discworld or Sir Terry Pratchett's works in general. At least in my elementary and early middle school years. Not quite, in that I didn't read the novels in their entirety with the same voracity I devoured those of Diana Wynne Jones or C.S. Lewis or J.R.R. Tolkien or Lloyd Alexander.

But his name was still part of my childhood vernacular, because somehow, he was always peeking out from my reading material. I chuckled over excerpts of The Amazing Maurice and His Amazing Educated Rodents when they happened to be published in Muse magazine. At one point, I was introduced to Tiffany Aching and instantly adored her - but never got around to finding the series in my library.

You always feel these regrets quite strongly - "How many years did I waste not understanding those inside jokes and fandom nudges?" - when you're older and finally open a novel in a bookstore somewhere or at the library on a slow day when you don't have a list to occupy you with other titles (me, a lot of times - trust me)...and you feel as though you've met a friend that people have been trying to steer your way for years.

And when you tell them, they just smile smugly and say, "I knew you two would like each other."

My friend Katie Locke said that she felt as though she'd lost a grandparent today. I feel that, so much, so deeply. I feel as though we've lost a kind, talented soul who knew what we needed on our down days and how to tickle a smile out of us when we thought we didn't know how to any more.

"Stories of imagination tend to upset those without one."

- Sir Terry Pratchett

My first official Discworld title - or maybe it wasn't, but it's the one that sticks out the most clearly in my head, particularly today - was Monstrous Regiment. I read it about two summers ago, and though I had a few false starts, I really made headway on my birthday.

It's one of those titles that will permanently have imagery associated with it that doesn't necessarily belong to the book: being jostled about in the backseat of the car, the sunlight illuminating certain phrases and shadow overtaking others, the smell of the salty air as we drove closer to the ocean and the smile on my face that had nothing to do with turning a year older and everything to do with Polly Perks and vampires that are certainly nothing else but Discworld vampires and Shakespearean disguises.

I finished it about three days after that. And then I flipped back through and read the ending, just for the sake of it.

You can't help but decide to firmly like an author when he unashamedly writes strong female protagonists and slides in some tongue-in-cheek commentary about life and death and bravery and politics.

I have to confess: I was almost tempted to dislike Discworld on the sole basis that my best friend (bless her always) was always after me to read the series proper.

She's earned smug rights for the rest of her life, I think.

Because I plunged right in after that and never looked back.

I think I probably read the first Tiffany Aching before Monstrous Regiment, thinking properly on it. You can't help but adore Tiffany - and wonder if you ought to have some practice with a frying pan, too. Just in case. I've been trying to press it on every YA reader I know, particularly the girls. Especially after today, I think they will get tired of hearing about it.

So, I've been here before: the lump in my throat, the helpless tears in my eyes. Every year, we lose a good soul or two. Every year, we're assured that there are plenty of good souls left in the world to tide us over - but not like those that left us, not really. My list of Discworld titles has never looked so small or shrinking or conquerable as they do today.

If there is anything to smile over today, it is the fact that we had a Sir Terry Pratchett. I've seen friends tearing up for the new readers that will eagerly tumble into the world of Carrot and Vimes and Susan and realize, with a heart-lurching pause one day, that there are no more to come from that pen.

But there will still be Discworld for them to enjoy, and tell others to enjoy, and the fact that we are already considering what titles to introduce to children and sharing our favorite moments and quotes and little quips is such a legacy, to me.

So, Godspeed, sir. Thank you for the warmth and reassurance your books gave me on days when I had little else in the way of strength or mental ease. Thank you for the laughter and the loved characters.

You are already missed.

Commuter Corner [1]

2015-02-09T21:17:00.004-05:00

So, if you've noticed, this particular haunt of mine on the World Wide Web is getting a little...dusty.

This can be readily (and, in my opinion, justifiably) attributed to the fact that, for the better part of the week, I'm ducking in and out of classrooms, straining under the weight of textbooks, added snow days to the end of the semester and professorial expectations.

Oh, and the constant looming weather. If you ever wondered what form Ebenezer Scrooge would take were he not human and hadn't had the fear of God (and the joy of Christmas) scared into him, it is totally the way it's looked outside every single day since the semester started.

(Seriously, wake me up when February ends. Actually, just hit the snooze button and leave me alone until mid-May.)

Just. Pretend that's snow. And ice. And hail.

In any case, I don't want to leave things around here high and dry while I do my best to be a diligent college student, so I'm opening up a new feature.

(Yeah, it doesn't have a particularly catchy title. Bear with me here.)

Since I've fortunately been able to squeeze in my reading around homework deadlines, in between class periods and even in the car at particularly desperate moments, I'm hoping to provide some on-the-go progress reports, mini reviews and maybe even forecasts on what I might be reading next.

What I've Finished

Well, I've definitely demolished several Georgette Heyer novels over the past few weeks, in short order. The dreary skies and a prolonged case of sleep deprivation have teamed up to force me into a mood that most certainly requires fluffy, frothy happy endings and Austenesque surroundings.

The one I've most recently tucked into is These Old Shades, which is apparently part of its own little series/universe? I haven't checked out the others, but this title in particular features a certain nobleman who doesn't really have too much of a heart (his own siblings, along with most everyone else he encounters throughout the story line, have a particularly wicked nickname for him: Satanas).

Oh, and there is also his young page, Leon. And in case that sounds very uncomplicated and well...un-Heyer, to you, did I mention that Leon is not actually a Leon, but a Leonie? (Yeah, who knew there was a feminine twist for the name Leon? I certainly didn't.)

So there's the added benefit of identity masquerades the Bard would certainly wink at, a vengeful elite from Leonie's mysterious past, and of course, the requisite "We must turn you into the most beautiful belle at the ball!" wardrobe montages.

Every Heyer heroine to all the young men already fawning in her wake. Like, she's already gorgeous and has a million suitors - but let's just multiply that by ANOTHER million after adding a new gown and rouge and styling her hair.

It was definitely what I needed at the moment, but your mileage may vary.

What I'm Reading

A dear friend convinced me (only just last night, actually) to read The True Meaning of Smekday by Adam Rex, finally. If you haven't heard of this particular middle grade, you might be anticipating the animated movie adaptation, Home, which will be dropping from Dreamworks next year.

I've read another title from the same author, Cold Cereal, so I was expecting quirky hijinks and a generally fun ride, but The True Meaning of Smekday has the added element of a not-so-veiled commentary on colonialism and the eradication of a culture (that, ironically, was built on eradicating others) - which, I must say, doesn't always get it right by any means.

For instance, there's a particularly cringe-worthy discussion centered around a not-yet-introduced Native American character that is fraught with stereotypes. Fraught.

Presented without further comment.

Settling problematic elements aside (but, of course, never dismissing them), the fact that the main character is in herself diverse, and the tense and sometimes wryly hilarious adventures she's tossed into in the name of finding her loveable, hair-brained and alien abducted mother, kept me churning through the pages until I had to rush off to my next class.

And if you're a certain beloved neighbor who may just be my only reader at this point...I think you'll like this a lot. That is, if you haven't beaten me to it.

What's Next?

I'll spare you the reading associated with academia. Thank me later.

(I mean, a lot of it isn't so bad and may be downright fascinating, but really - are you here to read about that? I don't think so.)

The previously mentioned dear friend, never one to shirk her duty, has also urged me to add Ready Player One to my Kindle queue in the name of mutual discussion, so I hope to dip my toes into that sooner or later.

And of course, I still have plenty of Heyer titles at my disposal to peruse (read: tear through as though a horde of disapproving society maidens are heckling me with well-meant clucking and proffered glasses of Almack's lemonade).

And let's never forget the teetering, dagger-eyed mountain of ARCs that will soon attain a mind of its own and verbally brow-beat me for my negligence. Soon. Very soon.

On the blog front, you should hopefully see a tribute to my dear friend Jasmine Warga and her debut, My Heart and Other Black Holes, when it hits shelves tomorrow.

(In case you've been torn on reading that, a quick line of encouragement: it touched my heart with its well-written characters and very genuine depiction of depression. I don't recommend reading it when you yourself are going low, but I think it can be ranked as one of the best contemporaries of this year so far.)

And I've been meaning to say a few words - or, knowing me, maybe more - on also beloved Kirsten Hubbard's middle grade debut, Watch the Sky, so keep an eye out for that.

If you happen to be a college student - or, well, any student - how are you keeping your reading game on? If not, what are you reading or fitting into your schedule recently?

Top Ten Tuesday [1]: Top Ten 2015 Debuts

2015-01-06T19:49:00.003-05:00

For more information on the host of Top Ten Tuesday and how to add your own post, click on the banner!

*rubs hands together evilly*

Oh, yes. I've been looking forward to this list since September 2014. You know what the best thing is about a fresh, hopeful new year?

(Besides, you know, kicking the door shut on 2014 and all its awfulness.)

The debuts. And this year in particular, there are so many rocking Fifteeners that even with ten slots to fill, I'm sure I'm going to look back, hit my forehead and groan that I missed someone super important.

So, just know that I love them all and it's worth a Google or a trip to the Fearless Fifteeners' webpage or GoodReads to catch them all.

Now, let's get down to the list, in no particular order...

(And, since I'm being unusually lazy today, you can click on the titles to see the awesome associated covers and release dates.

Note that I wasn't lazy enough to skimp on the GIFs.)

10. Under a Painted Sky by Stacey Lee

Missouri, 1849: Samantha dreams of moving back to New York to be a professional musician—not an easy thing if you’re a girl, and harder still if you’re Chinese. But a tragic accident dashes any hopes of fulfilling her dream, and instead, leaves her fearing for her life.

With the help of a runaway slave named Annamae, Samantha flees town for the unknown frontier. But life on the Oregon Trail is unsafe for two girls, so they disguise themselves as Sammy and Andy, two boys headed for the California gold rush. Sammy and Andy forge a powerful bond as they each search for a link to their past, and struggle to avoid any unwanted attention. But when they cross paths with a band of cowboys, the light-hearted troupe turn out to be unexpected allies. With the law closing in on them and new setbacks coming each day, the girls quickly learn that there are not many places to hide on the open trail.

Heroines. Cowboys. The Gold Rush. Diversity.

Give me one reason why I should not be excited for this. There's a good reason it's already getting accolades and Stacey deserves every single one. I'm waiting on pins and needles to see if NetGalley will make my dreams come true or if I'll just have to sit here and bite my nails until my library has a copy.

NetGalley doesn't like me recently. Alas.

9. Blood and Salt by Kim Liggett

When you fall in love, you will carve out your heart and throw it into the deepest ocean. You will be all in—blood and salt.”

These are the last words Ash Larkin hears before her mother returns to the spiritual commune she escaped long ago. But when Ash follows her to Quivira, Kansas, something sinister and ancient waits among the rustling cornstalks of this village lost to time.

Full disclosure: I've talked to Kim a few times and she's quite lovely, but I promise I'm not playing favorites with this list and all the people on it that I've talked to before.

Anyway. I'm developing a taste recently for well-written YA horror. I blame Nova Ren Suma and her introducing me to Micol Ostan Harlow's Amity last year (yes, as inspired by the Amityville house and all its horrors). This sounds equally promising.

Let us ignore the fact that this is a total GPOY of me after I consume horror in any form.

8. Conviction by Kelly Loy Gilbert

"Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen."

Ten years ago, God gave Braden a sign, a promise that his family wouldn’t fall apart the way he feared.

But Braden got it wrong: his older brother, Trey, has been estranged from the family for almost as long, and his father, the only parent Braden has ever known, has been accused of murder. The arrest of Braden’s father, a well-known Christian radio host, has sparked national media attention. His fate lies in his son’s hands; Braden is the key witness in the upcoming trial.

Besides being Team "Kaye Should Move to Cali One Day" (which sounds particularly tempting on acrid days like today), Kelly's debut promises dark family ties, painful revelations and well-measured plot. I cannot wait.

7. Scarlett Undercover by Jennifer Latham

Meet Scarlett, a smart, sarcastic, kick-butt, Muslim American heroine, ready to take on crime in her hometown of Las Almas. When a new case finds the private eye caught up in a centuries-old battle of evil genies and ancient curses, Scarlett discovers that her own family secrets may have more to do with the situation than she thinks -- and that cracking the case could lead to solving her father's murder.

A Muslim-American girl detective? Yes, yes, yes. I'm so eager to see how this will turn out.

6. The Sacred Lies of Minnow Bly by Stephanie Oakes

When seventeen-year-old Minnow stumbles out of the woods one winter morning, she is haunted and handless and covered in someone else’s blood. She has just escaped the strict religious commune run by a cruel man named the Prophet. In exchange for freedom, she leaves behind her family, her home, and Jude--an outsider boy who changed everything.

But the real world isn't the sanctuary Minnow imagined. Soon, she gets arrested and placed in juvenile detention. Now, Minnow is being questioned by an FBI psychiatrist about the night she escaped, the same night the Prophet was burned to death in his own home—a murder Minnow may be responsible for.

I've been coveting this one since I heard it was based on "The Girl with Silver Hands", since before it had a cover, since...has it been a good year since this deal was announced? I guess I can wait a little bit longer.

Literally me. Literally. Me.

5. Pretending To Be Erica by Michelle Painchaud

We Were Liars meets Heist Society in a riveting debut!

Seventeen-year-old Violet’s entire life has revolved around one thing: becoming Erica Silverman, an heiress kidnapped at age five and never seen again. Violet’s father, the best con man in Las Vegas, has a plan, chilling in its very specific precision. Violet shares a blood type with Erica; soon, thanks to surgery and blackmail, she has the same face, body, and DNA. She knows every detail of the Silvermans’ lives, as well as the PTSD she will have to fake around them.

And then, when the time is right, she “reappears”—Erica Silverman, brought home by some kind of miracle. But she is also Violet, and she has a job: Stay long enough to steal the Silverman Painting, an Old Master legendary in the Vegas crime world.

So, Michelle is really cool, and so is that summary, just look. At. It. There's a reason this is one of those gilded in lights headliners in my personal "Must Read Before December 31st" list. I'm pinning my hopes on this - and most of these titles, actually - being some of the ARCs available at BEA.

Yeah, this is me just thinking of BEA.

4. Tiny Pretty Things by Sona Chairaipotra and Dhonielle Clayton

Gigi, Bette, and June, three top students at an exclusive Manhattan ballet school, have seen their fair share of drama. Free-spirited new girl Gigi just wants to dance—but the very act might kill her. Privileged New Yorker Bette's desire to escape the shadow of her ballet star sister brings out a dangerous edge in her.

And perfectionist June needs to land a lead role this year or her controlling mother will put an end to her dancing dreams forever. When every dancer is both friend and foe, the girls will sacrifice, manipulate, and backstab to be the best of the best.

Okay, when it comes to Sona and Dhonielle, I might have to admit a bias in advance. Sona and I had such lovely conversations last year at BEA and even though I've only spoken online with Dhonielle, I just adore them both. Also, cutthroat ballerinas? Yes, please.

When I think cutthroat high school students, I expect a lot of this.

3. The Girl At Midnight by Melissa Gray

Beneath the streets of New York City live the Avicen, an ancient race of people with feathers for hair and magic running through their veins. Age-old enchantments keep them hidden from humans. All but one. Echo is a runaway pickpocket who survives by selling stolen treasures on the black market, and the Avicen are the only family she's ever known.

Echo is clever and daring, and at times she can be brash, but above all else she's fiercely loyal. So when a centuries-old war crests on the borders of her home, she decides it's time to act.

Okay, so some might say the secret race beneath NYC thing is overdone, but...No, I don't think it is. And I mean, this is Melissa. She went to Yale and learned how to ride a horse and shoot a bow at the same time. She's one of the best resources I know for video games. No way that this isn't going to be anything but incredible.

Yeah. I wouldn't be surprised if she could do that, too.

2. An Ember in the Ashes by Sabaa Tahir

LAIA is a Scholar living under the iron-fisted rule of the Martial Empire. When her brother is arrested for treason, Laia goes undercover as a slave at the empire’s greatest military academy in exchange for assistance from rebel Scholars who claim that they will help to save her brother from execution.

ELIAS is the academy’s finest soldier—and secretly, its most unwilling. Elias is considering deserting the military, but before he can, he’s ordered to participate in a ruthless contest to choose the next Martial emperor.

When Laia and Elias’s paths cross at the academy, they find that their destinies are more intertwined than either could have imagined and that their choices will change the future of the empire itself.

My mom could definitely tell you: I love Sabaa. Even though I've never met her in person - YET - or read her book - YET. She's just very sweet and talented and it's hard not to love her. Also, there is nothing in this summary to hate or be nervous about. At all. It deserves all the hype it's getting and I'm so excited that there's already a movie option out there.

*fans self*

Me whenever someone mentions Sabaa's name. Seriously. Shameless fangirl.

1. Written in the Stars by Aisha Saeed

Naila’s conservative immigrant parents have always said the same thing: She may choose what to study, how to wear her hair, and what to be when she grows up—but they will choose her husband. Following their cultural tradition, they will plan an arranged marriage for her. And until then, dating—even friendship with a boy—is forbidden.

When Naila breaks their rule by falling in love with Saif, her parents are livid. Convinced she has forgotten who she truly is, they travel to Pakistan to visit relatives and explore their roots. But Naila’s vacation turns into a nightmare when she learns that plans have changed—her parents have found her a husband and they want her to marry him, now! Despite her greatest efforts, Naila is aghast to find herself cut off from everything and everyone she once knew. Her only hope of escape is Saif . . . if he can find her before it’s too late.

I think it's pretty obvious now that I'm ridiculously proud of Aisha Baji and all she does. I'm particularly glad that this will be a Muslim voice on the cultural issue of forced marriage, and one who is very happy with her own arranged marriage as well. I'm very sure this title is going to prove to be an important one for discussions and book clubs from here on out.


I already promised Aisha I'd be hand-selling this on her book birthday. I...doubt she'd appreciate this type of hand-selling, though.

Flights of Fantasy!

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"What, two reading challenge sign-up posts in one year, Kaye?" You say.

Yes. Yes, indeed.

Since I think I've been quite blatant about my lifelong affection for fantasy, I doubt this really surprises anyone. At all.

Flights of Fantasy is hosted by the two brilliant and admirable (and totally more organized than I am, ever) bloggers listed on the banner. If you click on said banner, you'll be linked to Alexa's intro post where you can get more of an idea on how to sign up if you'd like to and what's going on with this challenge.

My recap...

The challenge runs from January 1st to December 31st. So, you know, all year.
You don't need a blog to join in. Even a GoodReads profile will do.
You can read all the fantasy you want. That's the equivalent of handing me a golden key to a candy store and going, "Fill up all the bags you want, kiddo. No charge." (Except that I doubt anyone would call me kiddo nowadays or be able to walk away on both legs after calling me a kiddo.)

I'll be following along with the hosts and doing my best to post a summary of my challenge on the last Sunday of every month.

So now, how many fantasy titles does Kaye plan to devour in 2015? I think I'm going for at least 20 titles, for the time being. My GoodReads challenge is already set at 100 books, so I might up or lower the scale depending on what's feasible around, you know, being a commuting college student and having a life outside of books.

(Ha. A life outside of books. That's cute. You're cute, Kaye.)

And...that's pretty much it. I'm planning to create a specific GoodReads shelf for this challenge and Dive Into Diversity, just to keep track of the titles I want to keep on my radar this year. So keep an eye out for that in the update post at the end of the month.

Are you planning on your own Flight of Fantasy? Any YA or MG fantasy titles you think I should add to my shelf?

End of Year Book Survey 2014!

2014-12-31T23:52:00.003-05:00

All kudos, well wishes and offers of chocolate for the End of Year Book Survey go to the marvelous Jamie of The Perpetual Page Turner. She's a really awesome person and her blog rocks my socks. That is all.

Well, we're about to turn the last page of that complex book that has been 2014.

I'd like to say that I want to slam this particular edition, shove it into my closet and pretend it was a thing that didn't happen, but my friend Allie noted that "despite bad reviews, she still thought this book had its redeeming qualities," so we'll not write it off entirely.

This is my very first time filling out the End of Year Book Survey, so apologies in advance for any rambling, shorter than normal paragraphs and unnecessarily repeated answers.

2014 Reading Stats

Number of books you read: According to my old frenemy, GoodReads, my reading challenge sits at a rather paltry 42 logged titles.

(GoodReads might have also done a little digital shimmy and flaunted past-Kaye in my face and her impressive 250 books one year in particular. 250. Don’t ask me how. I truly don’t know how.)

I feel like I might have read more than that, but seeing as I’ve been locked in a rather horrific reading slump since the end of 2013 (I feel like I should make some sign against evil when even discussing 2013, period), I’ll acquiesced to the scored tally and just resolve to do better in 2015.

We shall meet again, GoodReads. And I shall be the victor.

Number of re-reads: Very likely, another forty. I’m still figuring out just how to add in my re-reads without having to explain to well-meaning friends that yes, I have read this before, or adding a duplicate title.

Best in Books

Emily Lloyd-Jones has them all beat on ARC presentation. She won 2014, guys. She won.

Best book you read in 2014?

On the recently published, young adult front, I’d have to say The Winner’s Curse by Marie Rutoski. I loved the strategy, the writing, the characters – it was one of those rare moments where the hype did not fail me and I actually closed my Kindle feeling quite satisfied and kind towards all YA readers, this truly is the magic of Christmas, et cetera, et cetera.

(Full disclosure: I read this in the late spring, with the flu. And I am definitely not Ebenezer Scrooge discovering the joys of Christmas, particularly in the late spring. I’m sorry if anyone is disappointed.)

Another book I just adored that’s actually dropping in 2015 is the lovely Nova Ren Suma’s newest, The Walls Around Us. I haven’t reviewed it yet because it’s been a few months and I still cannot summon up prose that will do justice to Nova’s lovely descriptions and words and…everything.

On the middle grade front, my favorite actually hasn’t been released yet, and that would be Beastkeeper by Cat Hellisen. (Yes, I linked my review for once because I’m pretty proud of it and the teeming emotion of the moment.) It honestly, genuinely took me back to the books I read when I was actually in middle school and I will probably re-read it again in the near future.

Book you were excited about and thought you were going to enjoy, but didn't?

Eesh. I always hate questions like these. I feel like I’m singling out some poor author and drop-kicking them and their beloved work out of my zip code.

(I want to love every book. I want to – and usually do – love most authors I encounter. But alas, I am only human and have many flaws, like not keeping this blog active enough and sometimes eating leftover noodles cold rather than warming them up like my mother suggests.)

I’d have to say, at this point, We Were Liars by E. Lockhart. No one hurt me, please. I know a lot of friends adored this one, and I know odds are high, considering it’s me we’re talking about, that I will go back later in 2015 and actually read the entirety and go, “Hey, this was good!”…but right now, I couldn’t get more than a chapter in.

I haven’t crossed it off my like list entirely. But right now, I just can’t get into it.

Most surprising book read in 2014?

I’d have to say…Mistwalker by Saundra Mitchell – in a very, very good way. This was one of those books I placed a hold on when I saw its title announced, forgot what it was even supposed to be about, and then opened and found that it was a gift to Kaye from the bookish powers that be because it contained so much of what Kaye actually likes.

The sea! Mysterious magic at work! A likeable, understandable heroine!

Yes, yes, yes.

Book You Pushed The Most People to Read (And They Did) in 2014?

This would very likely be The Fire Wish by my friend Amber Lough. I actually lent out my own ARC quite a few times here and there over the summer, talked about her constantly to whoever would listen and pretty much made a total bother of myself until people told me yes, they did read it.

Mission accomplished? At least I didn’t lose other friends in the process.

A runner-up would be my most beloved Howl’s Moving Castle, which you would think (or perhaps, I would think) every fantasy lover in the world would already have read and adored. But apparently, there are still people who need to be gently nudged toward what is good for them.

The best thing I seriously heard in 2014 was a friend telling me that another, mutual friend had listened to me yammer about Howl’s Moving Castle SO. MUCH. that she decided she had to read it and figure out what I was going on about, and loved it.

That was literally the best.

Best series you started in 2014? Best sequel of 2014? Best series ender of 2014?

Like I said, I was supremely bad at reading this entire year. In particular, I feel like I needed a major breather from YA, though I still love it, and a chance to branch out to other genres.

All of that said and done, I think the only series I really started in 2014 was The Winner’s Curse, and I like it so far but I don’t usually have the best of luck with sequels so we shall see.

Oh, wait, wait! I just remembered Dark Metropolis by the lovely Jackie Dolamore. Now there was a good start to a series. I’ve made a deal with myself to read everything Jackie ever writes.

Favorite new author you discovered in 2014?

This is a coin toss between Cat Hellisen, who is a lovely person all around and with such a gift for prose, and Katherine Brundell of the delightful, magical MG standalone Rooftoppers. I admire lovely people who have a knack for stringing together lovely words. They make the world a better place.

Also, love to my friends Corinne Duyvuis and Emily Lloyd-Jones, for the awesome Otherbound and Illusive respectively. Those were pretty great debuts.

Best book from a genre you don't typically read or was out of your comfort zone?

Nova Ren Suma always speaks highly of Laura Kasischke, so I checked out her YA debut, Feathered. Its premise, which feels as though it’s based off Natalee Holloway’s now infamous disappearance while on vacation in Aruba, was definitely a little out of my comfort zone at the time I was reading it. I was actually more in the state of mind that requires something cheerful rather than angst and heart-wrenching situations.

In any case, though, I do not regret the read, as the words were lush and heady and the story ended – to me, at least – with hope for the future.

Most action-packed/thrilling book of the year?

Will anyone be tempted to throttle me if I say that my most action-packed book of this year wasn’t a YA, and wasn’t actually published this year?

*backs away just in case*

Okay, so. I started reading Discworld by Terry Pratchett, that great, wonderful, ever-expanding fantasy series, last year. I’ve pretty much been on and off, particularly lingering in the YA Tiffany Aching books more than anywhere else (review on those hopefully to come soon, though I’m likely preaching to the choir now).

Anyway, I finally got around to consulting the brilliant “Which Order You Might Want to Read Discworld In” chart (as opposed to just puddle jumping here and there as you will, which also seems like a good plan to me), and Guards! Guards! stuck out to me as a particularly viable choice for my next Discworld adventure.

I mean, wizards and dragons. And a background found family that features a boy raised by dwarves.
If you’re looking for your in to explore Discworld, this is a solid choice – very funny and very exciting.

Book you read in 2014 that you're most likely to read again in 2015?

If we’re talking YA – actually, let’s just focus on YA so I’m not bouncing around here.

Traditionally, every year, I re-read Howl’s Moving Castle at least once. Sometimes, I mix things up and add Chrestomanci there, too.

This year, I might be adding the previously mentioned Beastkeeper to my reread pile, because gorgeous prose (I am so predictable) and it is just so perfect for those nights when I need to have the perfect dark, wild fairytale in my hands.

On the YA front, most likely The Walls Around Us, which also has previously been mentioned, for the sake of corralling my thoughts together into a readable review.

And – you know what? This is so not YA or even MG, but Cat Hellisen urged me to read Among Others by Jo Walton, and that was so good I might very well find myself cracking it open again next year to enjoy it all over again.

Favorite cover of a book you read in 2014?

Is it in bad form to mention The Walls Around Us in every response?

Anyway, that cover is pretty brilliant, if you ask me.

Also, I haven’t read it in full yet, but my baji Aisha Saeed’s Written in the Stars has an absolutely gorgeous cover that makes me wonder why I haven’t gotten a chance to finish it yet.

Most memorable character of 2014?

I seriously did not read a lot of current titles this year, did I?

The character that instantly comes to mind – possibly because I’m still reading the series – is Will Stanton, from The Dark Is Rising. I rather have a soft spot for middle grade characters with great, world-changing missions and who also happen to be fond of animals, even if it’s not majorly part of the plot.

Most beautifully written book in 2014?

Well, Nova’s coming right up besides Cat for this position.

But, there is also the lovely Natalie C. Parker’s Beware the Wild, which I found very evocative and haunting and was exactly what I’d thought it’d be. And that makes me remember that, along with not reading a lot of current books, I did not review a lot of the titles I did read that debuted this year and actually loved.

Also, my friend and 2014 debut Annie Cardi’s The Chance You Won’t Return had lovely words. It’s been a while since I read it, near the beginning of the year, and I should probably re-read it for the sake of being able to say more lovely things about it. I do know I enjoyed it very much.

Bad, bad Kaye.

Most thought-provoking or life-changing read of 2014?

Hmm. As of right now, my mind is a blank.

I am sure that there has been at least one, or possibly two, titles I lingered over, paused, highlighted phrases and perhaps even teared up, but knowing my year, I doubt it was actually YA.

I think, right now, it’d likely be Among Others, mainly because it rekindled my strong belief that I am a writer, and Beastkeeper, because – as I noted in my review – I found myself back into my old magpie ways of feathering my own nest with lovely words that caught my eye.

Book you can't believe you waited UNTIL 2014 to read?

We Have Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson, for sure. I kept being told I would like it. I would see the cover, go, “Oh, that looks fascinating!” and then put it off or note it down on my library list and then go to the library and realize it wasn’t on the shelf.

God bless the librarians that staff and stock the online Kindle collection. God bless.

They have given me access to a lot of titles the brick-and-mortar library, or the system at large, might not have (and I just learned the other day that they’ve stopped priority ordering books past two years back).

Favorite passage or quote from a book read in 2014?

...The whole idea of a family tree is not a dead spine but a living, breathing thing, with roots under clean soil, and bright sparkling branches hungry for the sky. When someone dies in the outside world, the other names go on breathing, seeking, creating, so that…it all continues.

(The Enchanted, by Rene Denfeld – it’s not YA, and I’ve actually set this aside for the time being, but the language is positively glorious.)

Shortest and longest books read in 2014?

Oh, come on now. Okay, at least I know that Night Film by Marisha Pessl was a good 600 pages, so that was definitely the longest.

Book that shocked you the most?

The Winner’s Curse by Marie Rutoski. Wow. Just. Wow. It was in a very good way, but still. I liked that ending a lot.

A runner-up would be Belzhar by Meg Wolitzer. It mainly surprised me because I thought I’d like it, and in some ways I did, but not as much as I thought I would? (On the bright side, it cultivated a wonderful, epistolary friendship, so I don’t regret it at all.)

OTP of the year

Howl Pendragon and Sophie Hatter have not been unseated for my ultimate OTP. We’ll see how they fare next year.

Favorite non-romantic relationship of the year

By far and large, the bonds between the girls in The Scandalous Sisterhood of Prickwillow Place. I just adore friendships and found families, and I received both in full measure, so I was very, very pleased.

1Favorite Book in 2014 From An Author You’ve Read Previously

*whispers*

The Walls Around Us.

*runs for the hills*

Best Book You Read in 2014 Based Solely on Peer Pressure

Again, this would be The Winner's Curse. There was a ton of hype for that title. A lot.

And it paid off, for once - so hooray!

Newest Fictional Crush in 2014?

I'm taking a pass right here.

Best 2014 Debut You've Read?

It's tied between Annie Cardi and Natalie C. Parker. Duke it out, ladies!

(No, seriously. You both are amazing.)

Best World-Building in 2014

Again, I think The Winner's Curse takes the prize.

Book that put a smile on your face

I think Guards! Guards! or else its immediate sequel, Men at Arms, would take this prize gladly.
If not, The Scandalous Sisterhood of Prickwillow Place – and how fortuitous, seriously, that I actually finished that yesterday so it could find its place of honor on this list.

Book that made you cry or nearly cry in 2014?

Between Shades of Grey by Ruta Septys – which, now that I check, didn’t actually make it on my GoodReads counter. What is going on, GoodReads? Hast thou betrayed me at the very end of this ghastly year?

In any case, I didn’t ugly cry the way I did for The Book Thief (ah, memories) but it was pretty close.

Hidden gem of the year?

I definitely think Annie Cardi's writing is underrated.

So very underrated. She deserves much more.

Book that crushed your soul?

Did I mention that one of my rereads this year – actually, I picked up the audiobook on a recommendation from a friend – was Code Name Verity?

Yes.

It was.

Most unique book you read in 2014?

Night Film by Marisha Pessl – which, of course, I must add the disclaimer that it’s not YA for the millionth time, but it took an approach involving e-mails, photocopies, clipped newspaper articles, blog entries…It was definitely cool to read, even on a Kindle.

Book that made you the most mad?

This is not YA, but…

Bel Canto by Ann Patchett. I adored it – the prose stirred my heart to think of new levels, the characters burrowed into my soul…and then.

And then.

The ending.

What was that ending?

Why did that ending have to be?

Your Blogging/Bookish Life

For 2015, I'm definitely taking more book-related pictures.

New favorite book blog you discovered in 2015

My new friend (as of this year) Emma a.k.a. Miss Print at missprint.wordpress.com! Emma is really awesome, has epic reading tastes and I just enjoy her opinions on books.

Favorite review you wrote in 2014?

I am not the best at beating my own drum, but I really, really felt that my review for Beastkeeper really reflected what I felt at that moment and was actually coherent and enjoyable to write.

Best discussion or non-review in 2014?

I think that would be my Sailor Moon post, which I am ridiculously proud of and not just because I found a use for the most interesting Mamoru GIF to date.

Best event you participated in?

BEA, hands down. Best yet. (And it was only my second year.)

Best moment of bookish/blogging life in 2014?

Oh, I don’t know – the moment I was able to toss my arms around my friends at BEA, particularly my much adored Nicole Brinkley of YA Interrobang? Possibly snapping a picture with Veronica Roth and getting a hug from her?

Or maybe that moment when Scott Westerfeld knew who I was and signed my ARC of Afterworlds with a special note?

BEA, guys. It was grand. I only hope that 2015 will be even better. It has a lot to live up to.

(This question was apparently missing, so I filled in with my own.)
Favorite book snagged at BEA?

Confession: I still haven’t made my way through my BEA ARCs. But, if you’d ask me which were my most anticipated titles, I’d have to say The Witch’s Boy by Kelly Barnhill and Afterworlds by Scott Westerfeld.

Most popular post on your blog?

It seems like it’s a tie between the Sailor Moon post and one I made announcing the initial days of the We Need Diverse Books campaign. Wow. Time flies.

Post you wished got a little more love?

I can’t say for sure, because my traffic is never big as it is and I’m happy for whatever views I get. I’m glad that the Sailor Moon post got so much love in terms of views, but I would have liked to see a few more comments and discussion there, I guess.

Best bookish discovery?

This is not a discovery by any means, but I finally made it to Books of Wonder and lost myself among the shelves and fell in love with a million titles and was only able to leave with two. Oh, it was beautiful.

I’m hoping to explore two of the local indies in our area very, very soon.

Did you complete any reading challenges in 2014?

*Camera zooms in on Kaye The Office-style*

*Single tear rolls down Kaye’s cheek*

*Fade to black*

(No. No, I didn’t.)

Looking Ahead

One book that you didn't get to in 2014 but will be a priority in 2015?

There are a lot of books that didn’t get their due attention, but friends keep saying good things about Afterworlds and I have it signed to me somewhere around here, so I should really do something about that.

Book that you are most anticipating for 2015 - and not a debut?

I definitely want to get my hands on the sequel to The Winner’s Curse. Also, I really like the sound of The Cemetery Boys by Heather Brewer. Dark, foreboding plot lines are kind of my thing.

Oh, oh, oh! I have an e-ARC of this I’m planning to crack open tonight, but Razorhurst by the amazing and very dear to me Justine Larbalestier. It just looks so very good and I’m so looking forward to it.

And Bone Gap by Laura Ruby, which I also have an e-ARC for. Yay, yay, yay!

A 2015 debut you're highly anticipating?

Way to put me on the spot.

My gosh.

There are so many, and so many friends are debuting as well.

Okay, just plucking from my brain at random: Sona Chairaipotra and Dhonielle Clayton’s Tiny Pretty Things (which I have as an ARC, hooray, hooray!); Stacey Lee’s Under a Painted Sky (historical fiction for the win); and my baji Aisha Saeed’s Written in the Stars, as well as my other baji Sabaa Tahir’s An Ember in the Ashes.

Oh, and Marcy Kate Connelly’s Monstrous!

So many good things coming out, though. The Fifteeners is such a talented class of authors!

Series ending or a sequel you're looking forward to in 2015?

As I already mentioned, The Winner’s Curse sequel. Also, I really need to do a Lunar Chronicles re-read in preparation for the final book dropping!

One thing you'd like to accomplish in your bookish life during 2015?

I definitely want to attend BEA again before it moves to Chicago.

Also, I want to read more than 100 books. Seriously. It’s going to happen.

Okay, that was two things.

A 2015 title you've already read and recommend:

Beastkeeper. You. Need. Beastkeeper.

Also, The Walls Around Us.

*smugly withdraws*

Happy New Year, one and all! May it be a kind and productive one for you, with plenty of reads!

Get your happy Sailor Scout face on!

Dive Into Diversity!

2014-12-30T23:09:00.000-05:00

So, it's definitely been a while since I participated in a reading challenge. Maybe that's because 2014 has been sincerely, positively ghastly on my reading front (and you'll see that for yourself with my End of the Year Survey).

It's been proving to be very pleasant thinking ahead to 2015 - which is literally on the doorstep - and figuring out which titles I should incorporate into my usual diet, or entice my still recovering reading appetite with.

As you probably already know, I am very keen on diversity and literature, particularly as a woman of color myself and a minority in both race and religion. A whole challenge based up on books from different walks and experiences of life? Sign me right up, please and thank you very much.

To learn more about how Dive Into Diversity works, you can definitely click right there on that banner and be taken to the lovely hosts' explanation, but here's my general summary: from January right up until December, participants will be writing up diverse reviews and posts.

At least one diverse title a month is encouraged. I hope I'll be logging in more than that.

I'm planning to make a personal list of diverse titles I've been planning to dig into - you'll likely see a link to a relevant GoodReads shelf sooner or later - but you can see a few of the ones I'm already stockpiling right here. (Yay, informative collage!)

I'm already reading She Wore Red Trainers, so I'm not sure if that's cheating or not.

I particularly have been planning to breathe life in my sadly unused Diversify feature, and this is definitely a good challenge to help do just that.

Are you planning to Dive into Diversity? Do you have any titles you think might pique my appetite? You know what to do. And be sure to check back in January for my first post!