BookPage Teen Top Pick, June 2016

The best imaginary worlds give readers the opportunity not only to enter a different realm but also to consider how that imaginary world reflects or distorts our actual one. Few novels have tackled this as skillfully as Steeplejack, the young adult debut by bestselling author A.J. Hartley.

Set in a world that looks very much like an alternative historical version of South Africa, Steeplejack tackles head-on the kinds of bigotry, class and race warfare, and identity politics that are all too relevant in the real world. This social commentary is placed in the context of a thrilling mystery plot, investigated by a truly unforgettable heroine.

Anglet Sutonga is a steeplejack, one of the best climbers the city of Bar-Selehm has ever seen. But when the boy picked to be her next apprentice dies in a fall, Ang is convinced not only that his death was no accident, but also that he is somehow connected to the sudden disappearance of the Beacon, Bar-Selehm’s greatest treasure, a hunk of priceless luxorite. Soon Ang, like the city itself, is caught between different factions and racial groups, each blaming the other for the city’s mounting problems, each convinced the other has something to hide. Ang must discover new reserves of strength, especially when she faces a very personal betrayal. 

Steeplejack is quietly thoughtful and breathlessly exciting, and with two more series installments to follow, Ang’s personal and professional journey is far from over.

This article was originally published in the June 2016 issue of BookPage. Download the entire issue for the Kindle or Nook.

Of course Jack isn’t Tess’ real dad. He’s thin to her fat, small to her tall, and ginger to her blond. But the 15-year-old never noticed these differences—until she accidentally reads Jack’s blog entry for the Donor Conception Network, in which he reveals that Tess was conceived with the help of a sperm donor.

All teens grapple with identity, but Tess doesn’t simply struggle to find the words to express how she feels—she loses her words altogether. Tess’ heartbreaking and sardonic first-person narration features her distinct inner voice as she sorts through the calamity that has become her life. Responding to Tess’ inner monologue is Mr. Goldfish, a pocket flashlight in the shape of a fish that sheds light on and offers a voice of reason to Tess’ chaotic thoughts. While the concept may sound silly, the result is realistic and effective. Tess relies on Mr. Goldfish even more when her new math substitute is charismatic Mr. Richardson, who resembles her physically, and she becomes the victim of online bullying. 

Together, Mr. Goldfish and Tess have a lot to say about truth, friendship and family.

This article was originally published in the May 2016 issue of BookPage. Download the entire issue for the Kindle or Nook.

Like any unconventional person in a small town, Montgomery has worked hard to find her tribe, those equally quirky people who help keep her strong. Monty has her two moms, of course. And she has her best friends, Thomas and Naoki, who join Monty in forming the Jefferson High Mystery Club. They don’t read whodunits; they explore the mysteries of the universe, from ESP to levitation. So even though the occasional jerks might make fun of Monty for her frumpy clothes, her lesbian moms and her gay best friend, she still feels safe.

That is, until the vehemently homophobic Reverend White moves to town, and his son transfers to Monty’s school. Suddenly, Monty feels like everyone she loves is under attack. As usual, Monty turns to the paranormal to help her solve her problems, but when her quest for supernatural knowledge fails spectacularly, Monty may be forced to acknowledge that there are as many surprising mysteries right at home as there are in the vast universe.

Mariko Tamaki is best known for her graphic novel collaborations with her cousin Jillian, including the award-winning This One Summer. Her first solo effort offers a complex and nuanced (and often very funny) portrait of a young woman in crisis. Monty is a realistically inspiring heroine—one who is flawed but comes to recognize her own faults and limitations. She sees her way toward real solutions, surrounded by people who love and value her despite, and even because of, those flaws.

This article was originally published in the May 2016 issue of BookPage. Download the entire issue for the Kindle or Nook.

Set in a dreamy, sweaty, stormy haze of Old San Juan, Puerto Rico, A Fierce and Subtle Poison stands as a modern, mystical mythology of one young man’s attempt to find—and hold on to—truth while surrounded by half-lies and whispered curses.

Seventeen-year-old Lucas Knight has grown up hearing the supernatural tales of the island from a gaggle of the city’s old widows. Their stories are always thrilling, but he’s never known whether to believe them or to write them off as the locals just messing with the half-gringo whose hotel-developer father is slowly destroying Puerto Rico’s beaches while lining his own pockets. One day, Lucas—while entertaining his latest attraction, Marisol—decides to test one of the widows’ myths. He taunts the lush garden of the house at the end of Calle Sol, a supposedly damned structure where a famed botanist—and the rumor of a cursed girl born of poison—live. The next day, Marisol goes missing, and soon after, her drowned body washes up upon the pristine beach. But there had been a string of these “drownings” recently, and when Lucas suddenly becomes the lead suspect in an investigation of foul play, he finds himself drawn back over and over again to the cursed house—asking for answers from the poison girl herself.

In her first novel, author Samantha Mabry extracts a fascinating, genre-bending tale in A Fierce and Subtle Poison. The novel is part native lore, part murder mystery and part romance story—all wrapped up in a humid island blanket of magical realism. Like any good enchantment, Mabry’s prose is simultaneously delicate and forceful, and the poison of this story will linger in readers’ blood for many days after turning the final page.

Justin Barisich is a freelancer, satirist, poet and performer living in Atlanta. More of his writing can be found at littlewritingman.com.

After growing up under the long shadow of her absentee mother and dealing with her grandfather’s lofty expectations, Ivy is looking forward to a brain-dead summer before her senior year. Those plans go right out the window when her mother turns up with intentions to move back into the family home along with her two new kids. Readjusting to this bombshell cramps Ivy’s style, and it only gets worse when her mom pretends that Ivy is her sister, calling her “Aunt Ivy” in front of the new children. Wild Swans swings from dream summer to mega-bummer and back again.

If the plot twists and a multigenerational family curse get a little snarled from time to time, they don’t drag things down. The pleasure here is getting lost in Ivy’s enormous house, with its widow’s walk and library and carriage house, and hanging out with her friends and not one but two potential love interests. There’s a mere sketch of a subplot about one friend’s younger sibling who is showing signs of gender variance—much to the family’s Southern small-town consternation—that is handled with insight and grace.

The town of Cecil is like a character itself, cozy enough so that you know your neighbors, and they darn well know you’re not your mother’s sister. (The scene where a well-meaning bookstore worker outs Ivy to her sisters may be tough news for them, but it’s still a riot to read.) Rich in atmosphere, Wild Swans is also a touching look at a family struggling with a big question: Can you break free of your past and still honor its traditions?

Something snapped in Cass after she found the boot, foot still inside, washed up on the beach. As the summer crowds pour into her small New Jersey town, Cass begins to hear a voice: a terrible, intrusive voice that torments Cass with senseless demands. If Cass doesn’t walk into the wall, as the voice demands, it threatens to kill Cass’ father. Since Cass’ mother died violently years before, and her single father is a Navy Seal suffering from PSTD, there is little safe refuge for Cass.

Readers know that this is about to change, because the novel is structured as a lengthy letter to the only boy Cass has ever loved, as she explains why she had to break his heart. Only in his presence would the voice be still. But as Cass recounts, that particular summer was shadowed with dread. A serial killer was on the loose, targeting prostitutes. Cass met the irrepressible Paris, a beautiful girl who makes money by stripping, despite the obvious danger.

A preponderance of foreshadowing (“but you already know that”) slows the pace too much to call the novel a thriller. Perhaps a slimmer novel could have kept the tension alive. But Lake does have a good ear for dialogue. Teens who relate to smart protagonists, adore Haruki Murakami and quote Ovid will appreciate the literary patter. As the winner of the 2013 Printz Award, Lake should draw interest to his latest creation.

Diane Colson is the Library Director at City College in Gainesville, Florida.

Wylie and Cassie have been drifting apart for a while, and their last fight was especially bad. But when Wylie receives a frantic text from her friend, she barely hesitates to jump to her rescue. But as Wylie follows Cassie’s cryptic directions further and further into the New England woods, it becomes clear that both girls are in more trouble than either of them could have imagined.

The Outliers is the debut young adult novel from Edgar nominee Kimberly McCreight (Reconstructing Amelia), and her knack for suspense will keep readers on the edge of their seats until the very last page. Though the plot begins to feel a bit far-fetched toward the end, every twist and turn on Wylie’s quest to find Cassie only serves to raise the stakes and heighten the very real sense of danger The Outliers evokes.

That danger feels even more immediate thanks to McCreight’s brilliant protagonist. Wylie is agoraphobic, anxious, weirdly in tune with other people’s emotions and struggling to gain footing in life. But she’s also sharp and driven, and in many ways, the traits that make her unique also make her vividly relatable.

The Outliers is a gripping read—sometimes flat-out scary—and an exciting start to a new YA mystery/thriller series. 

As the Monarch’s heir, Kali is devoted to her floating kingdom of Ashra, even when doing her duty involves entering an arranged marriage. But on the night of her engagement ceremony, Kali overhears a disturbing conversation, suggesting that the history of Ashra, as recorded in the official annals, might be fabricated. What’s more, some of the citizens may have discovered the truth, and the possibility of a rebellion looms. Kali is desperate to alert her father, but before she can find him, she rescues her fiancé from falling off the edge—and falls to earth herself.

Mysteriously, Kali isn’t killed by the fall. She meets a young monster hunter, Griffin, who agrees to help her find her way back to Ashra. Despite her inexperience, Kali surprises herself, and Griffin, with her determination and bravery against the dangers on the earth’s surface. Along the journey, Kali meets more human survivors, learns the true violent history of Ashra and becomes even more determined to return home and set things right.

In Heir to the Sky, Amanda Sun has created a likable cast of characters and an intriguing plot, but the true star of the novel is the landscape. The floating lands of Ashra and the deserted earth are fascinating and original. The earth is a lush riot of color, texture and danger that leaves the reader craving more descriptive passages. Science-fiction and fantasy elements—an unknown world, a suppressed history and larger-than-life mythical beasts—blend into a rich and unforgettable world that lingers in the readers’ imagination well beyond the final page. 

Everyone is broken in some way. It’s what makes us human. Vivi and Jonah are no exception. They are both broken, yet they are in love—they are colliding planets, specks of sand on this place we call Earth. They meet at a local pottery shop where Jonah has taken his littlest sister, Leah, to create her own piece of art. This is just the beginning.

Jonah suffers from intense grief after the sudden death of his father (a local restaurant owner), which manifests itself through his own gift of cooking. He’s taking it one day—sometimes one hour—at a time. Vivi has a zest for life and a hatred of life, sometimes simultaneously. She’s battling her own demons, including an absent father and an unconventional mother.

Nonetheless, Vivi and Jonah give each other what they didn’t know they needed, before they knew they needed it. This is an atypical love story, one where the ending doesn’t mean it’s over. When We Collided boils down to feelings: strong feelings, flat feelings, non-feelings and all of the feelings in between. It explores identity and individuality, what makes us human and flawed.

Mental illness is a growing, trending topic in YA lit, but the latest novel from Emery Lord stands apart. It doesn’t focus on recovery or diagnosis, but rather on endurance, on how living with a mental illness affects that person as well as the people who surround them. With Vivi, Lord taps into the mind of a teenager unsuccessfully dealing with bipolar disorder, who is pro-medication, pro-therapy, pro-whatever-it-takes to live with the illness, rather than battle against it. Jonah’s grief and his mother’s depression are sensitively addressed, as is Vivi’s attempts to help, inviting herself into their family at a time when they thought the darkness was inescapable.

Where We Collided digs its claws in, leaves readers gasping for air and likely speechless and in tears. Lord sensitively and adequately explores how happiness is a puzzle that we work toward completing, with each person’s pieces being different, but all creating a beautiful work of the art we call life. 

She’s the town brainiac, fifth of nine children, the good girl who constantly hides her mental acumen. He’s a biker and a member of the Reign of Terror, the motorcycle club that everyone in town knows to avoid. When an accidental encounter at senior year orientation leads to an unexpected agreement, Breanna and Thomas—or Razor, as he’s known on the road—find themselves falling for one another. Both have depths of character that their outward personalities don’t always reflect, and both are haunted by past secrets that threaten to overwhelm them. Breanna’s family disapproves of the Terror, and the Terror in turn is skeptical of outsiders. When a fellow teen with an agenda of his own threatens to publicize an innocent but incriminating photo of them, the stakes become even higher. Can Breanna’s code-breaking skills help Razor resolve the mystery surrounding his mother’s death? Is Razor exactly what Breanna needs to break out of the box she’s intentionally built around her identity? Will their relationship blossom, or will conflicting loyalties tear them apart?

Told in alternating points of view, this second Thunder Road novel weaves timely issues like neurological differences, families of choice and social media bullying into the classic good-girl/bad-boy love story fabric. The rituals, rules and unflinching faithfulness of the Reign of Terror motorcycle club is portrayed with loving nuance, and Breanna and Razor’s interactions are sensuously, but not graphically, described. This is a great choice for a teen seeking a steamy but non-explicit contemporary romance.

Jill Ratzan matches readers with books in a small library in southeastern Pennsylvania.

In 13th-century France, the Catholic Church is hell-bent on eradicating heresy. Unfortunately, their definition of heretics includes the bons omes and bonas femnas—saintly aesthetics who are devoted to God but not necessarily to the Catholic Church. Persecution of these wandering souls is top priority for the Church.

For Botille Flasucra, who is eking out a living with her two sisters in a tiny village, these meddlesome inquisitors seem remote. While on an errand to another village, Botille rescues a dying girl she finds lying in the woods. This is Dolssa, an ethereal mystic who has an intimate relationship with Jhesus. Dolssa is pursued by Lucien de Saint-Honore, an inquisitor charged with burning Dolssa alive. Although the Flasucra sisters strive to keep Dolssa hidden, her proclivity to perform miracles soon makes Dolssa the talk of the village.

The story is told from multiple points of view: Lucien, Botille, Dolssa and well-chosen witnesses that flesh out hidden facets of perspective. Botille, in particular, is a wonderful narrator. She is amused by village life as only a teen can be, infusing the story with her dry humor. She is our compass, shaping our understanding of Dolssa’s mysticism as well as the ruthless persecution espoused by the dominant religious power of the day.

As in her debut novel, All the Truth That’s in Me, Berry’s writing is stunning. Poetic, insightful and, at times, deeply disturbing, Dolssa’s story is steeped in 13th-century sensibilities yet so relatable to 21st-century readers. Berry includes a map, glossary and extensive source notes.