James Webb

Your kid knows Marcus Yallow. Heck, your kid might be Marcus Yallow! Who is he? He's the 21st-century equivalent of a 1950s teenage shade tree mechanic, but instead of measuring speed in terms of miles per hour, he measures it in terabytes per second. He's the geek in the crowd, in a world where the term geek is one of respect. He's a typical teenager, without a care in the world, but Marcus' world comes to a shattering halt when his hometown of San Francisco is hit with the next 9/11.

Cory Doctorow's much talked-about new novel for teens, Little Brother, opens with an act of terrorism on a frightening scale: the Bay Bridge is destroyed, with a devastating loss of life. The real impact though, is afterward, when a government overreaction turns life in the City by the Bay into a nightmarish 1984-type society where every movement is tracked, every word recorded, every thought considered suspicious. Marcus is caught up in the paranoia, and an innocent game ends up getting him and three friends arrested and imprisoned without trial, brutally interrogated, then released with a warning: tell no one. Although four friends are swept into this maelstrom, only three emerge—Marcus' friend Darryl has "disappeared." Marcus is forced into making a choice: either submit quietly like his parents to this new world order, or fight back. He and his techno-savvy friends decide on the latter course and commence a dangerous game of chicken with the Department of Homeland Security. Along with his newfound girlfriend Ange, Marcus must find a way to disrupt DHS trampling of civil liberties, to overcome a docile press' repetition of government propaganda and somehow to let the world know the truth: that thousands of innocent people are being held as political prisoners on an island in San Francisco Bay.

With its harrowing look at government abuse of power, Little Brother is clearly a political novel with a message for its young readers. It's also as savvy a political thriller as any written for adults (think Ludlum or Clancy). There's some drug and alcohol use and teenage sex, which makes the book an appropriate choice mostly for older teens. They'll find it a thrilling read that makes them think about what it really means to be free.

James Neal Webb is a '60s radical cleverly disguised as a middle-aged librarian.

Todd Anthony is a typical 14-year-old growing up in a small town in the early 1970s. He likes but doesn’t love going to school; he wonders about the things he sees in the news, like Vietnam and the upcoming presidential elections; he goofs around with his pals; and he helps out at his family’s motel. Todd’s notebook is full of his fanciful writings, put down mostly to amuse himself and his friends, but to his surprise, his teacher, Mrs. Hagerwood, actually likes his work so much so that she soon has the entire class writing, first with reluctance, then enthusiasm.

Todd’s hometown of Elmore, New York, sits along the meandering Chemanga River, and soon after a body is found washed up on its banks following a spring rain, Todd explores the levee looking for some literary inspiration. He finds it, but in ways he doesn’t see coming, starting with a heart-wrenching tragedy and his subsequent encounter with a strange young man known as Rat. Todd learns that Rat is a Vietnam vet, despite his youth, and that he’s having trouble dealing with being back in the world, as one of Rat’s veteran friends terms it. Things take a menacing turn when a drunken guest at the family motel has a run-in with Todd’s grandmother, and things get even darker than the rain clouds overhead when Todd realizes that the dead body, the drunken stranger and Rat are somehow interconnected. He’s determined to find out what is going on, and he’s getting close to the truth, but it just won’t stop raining and the river is rising.

In his first book for teens, author-illustrator Tedd Arnold (Hi! Fly Guy) juxtaposes insight and beauty with crudity and violence, and he does it all in a totally plausible context, void of melodrama or pretension. His novel paints vivid word pictures that play out in your mind, from a sunset painting Indian graves in its golden light, to Todd’s moment of incredible heroism. Rat Life is a compelling book not to be missed give it to a teenager or buy a copy for yourself.

Gwen Page has a life many musically talented teens would give their sheet music for, but it isn’t an easy one. The 17-year-old West Virginian is attending New York City’s Latham Academy of the Performing Arts on scholarship. As Andrew Clements’ new book, Things Hoped For, opens, graduation is nearing for Gwen, and if she wants to fulfill her dream of becoming a concert violinist, she’s going to have to be positively amazing at her upcoming auditions for three prestigious music schools. The pressure doesn’t let up at home, either; she lives in a brownstone with her 84-year-old grandfather, whose younger brother Hank has been showing up on a regular basis arguing and asking for money.

It’s hard to believe that things could get worse, but they do when her grandfather disappears, leaving behind a cryptic voicemail instructing Gwen to tell no one and to put Hank off until after her auditions. As the days slip by, Gwen begins to lose her musical focus worrying about her grandfather and Hank’s agitated visits.

That’s when a boy with a trumpet appears at her coffeehouse table and introduces himself his name is Robert Phillips, and he recognized Gwen from a summer program at the Tanglewood Institute that both attended. He’s flown in from Chicago to audition like Gwen, and Robert quickly proves to be a friend, cleverly putting off Uncle Hank so the two of them can practice for their respective tryouts. Robert is keeping a secret though (and fans of Clements’ previous novel, Things Not Seen, know what that incredible secret is), and Gwen’s already complicated life will soon take an unbelievable turn.

Clements is a compelling storyteller, and he has a real knack for creating realistic, believable characters. Gwen’s actions and reactions to both her everyday experiences and some admittedly incredible situations ring totally true. And while Things Hoped For is a sequel of sorts to Things Not Seen, it stands on its own as a novel well worth the time of any young reader. James Neal Webb is a copyright researcher at Vanderbilt University.

Jonah Wish, the central character in Stephen Cole’s new young adult novel, Thieves Like Us, has been shuttled between foster homes for most of his life, finding his only refuge inside the bits and bytes of his computer. When he finally settles in a home he likes, things turn unexpectedly sour and he resorts to computer fraud in an effort to set things right. Instead, he ends up in prison the Young Offenders Institution, to be exact and we meet him two months into a one-year sentence. The prison is a mind-numbing, frightening place, but our protagonist won’t be here for long, because a gang unlike any he’s ever imagined is about to break him out.

First at Jonah’s door, picking the lock to his cell, in fact, is Patch, a one-eyed 14-year-old wizard of tumblers; helping him is Con, a willowy beauty who can mesmerize you in more ways than one; Motti, the oldest of the bunch at 21, who knows his way around an electrical circuit; and Tye, a Caribbean girl who’s a human lie detector.

They’re all in the employ of a mysterious benefactor named Coldhardt, and they’ve plucked Jonah from prison to join them on a caper that would do Indiana Jones proud. It turns out that Coldhardt has assembled this unlikely band to acquire a 4,000-year-old formula that might be the secret to eternal youth.

What follows is an adventure that takes our youthful band through daring escapades all over Europe and the Fertile Crescent. (A word of warning: off-color language, hints of teenage sexuality and some violence are included in the journey.) With a delightfully convoluted plot, and a slam-bang ending as good as any blockbuster movie, Thieves Like Us is a Mission Impossible for teenagers, sure to keep even the most reluctant readers turning the pages.

How would you feel if your country was attacked, suddenly, without warning? How would you feel if you were put under suspicion, regarded with contempt, even afraid for your life, because you were of the same nationality as the attackers? How would you feel if you were still viewed with prejudice even after you had volunteered to serve your country? If you think we're referring to 9/11, it only serves to reinforce the adage that those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it. The attack in question here wasn't on the island of Manhattan, but on the island of Oahu Pearl Harbor, to be exact. Graham Salisbury's new book for teens, Eyes of the Emperor, deals with the effects of the attack on a Japanese-American teen, his efforts to prove his loyalty to his country and the strange and dangerous pathways prejudice can take us down in a time of war.

Eddy Okubo isn't like his dad; the old man builds boats for his customers, both Asian and haole (white), taking equal care with each. Pop Okubo wants his sons to attend university in Japan some day, but 16-year-old Eddy just wants to play baseball and be like his two buddies who have enlisted in the Army. He alters his birth certificate and does enlist, much to his father's consternation, but shortly after he finishes boot camp, America is attacked and Eddy's life changes drastically. He and other Asian soldiers are held at gunpoint, then put to work doing menial tasks. Even so, they manage to prove themselves loyal. Eddy's desire to serve his country is put to the test when he, along with the rest of his Japanese-American squad, are shipped out to the unlikeliest of places to serve as guinea pigs in the unlikeliest of experiments, and he'll need all of his courage and wits to survive.

Eyes of the Emperor may be a novel, and quite a good one at that, but the story is based on actual events. When you read it, you'll think to yourself, could this really have happened? Yes, it did, and Salisbury's meticulous research brings Eddy's story to life in a remarkably immediate way.

Lump, the title character in Michael Gruber’s remarkably original teen novel, The Witch’s Boy, is aptly named: he has a nose like a pig, yellow eyes, pointed ears and a lumpy body covered with coarse black hair. Abandoned as a baby in the woods, he is found by the Woman of the Forest, a mysterious witch feared by the country folk. She is not the kind of witch who inhabits fairy tales, but is more akin to something out of Celtic myth, a creature as much elemental as human, who lives in a cottage deep in the woods, along with a talking cat and a conniving genie.

The Witch’s Boy could be considered a handbook on how not to raise your children. Even witches have their duties, and “Mrs. Forest” has some big ones related to the seasons, the phases of the moon and the health and welfare of the land around her. But as many a busy parent has come to discover, neglecting your children can lead to trouble. The actual rearing of Lump is left to a bear that loves him tenderly, but the boy isn’t equipped to keep up with the rest of his nanny’s kind. When the witch then leaves the education of young Lump to her captive genie, he uses his na•ve young charge as a means of obtaining his freedom. Finally, the witch must face the most fearful consequence of raising a child watching him grow up. In Lump’s case, this means finding out that he’s not the beautiful boy he was led to believe.

Gruber has created a fairy tale turned on its ear; he re-imagines the stories we grew up with, cast in a landscape as real as our pre-history, but just as mysterious. There’s an obsessive-compulsive girl named Eyella, who’s convinced that a prince is in love with her; a former circus performer named Pinocchio; and a swordsman and his sister named Hansel and Gretel. Many more familiar names populate this incredible book, and most surprising of all is the name Lump is known by today.

Gruber, the author of two acclaimed adult thrillers (Valley of Bones, Tropic of Night), should find a receptive teen audience with this engrossing fantasy debut. James Neal Webb has two lovely portraits of his now grown children hanging in his library.