Dreaming In Books

Title:  The River of No Return

Author:  Bee Ridgway

Publisher:  Dutton

Series:

Other Reviews for This Author:  None


I review a variety of genres on this blog - romance, young adult, historical fiction, non-fiction, urban fantasy - but am occasionally aghast at some of the things I get sent for review consideration.  Sometimes, the genre just feels completely out of my zone of giving a crap.  Others, it's because the book just seems to badly represent one of the genres that I like.  The River of No Return wasn't one of those bad requests.  It was one of a third category - the category of the book that combines several of those genres in a way that would either appeal to me or make me bored just thinking about it.  Luckily, the genres that Ridgway incorporates in her debut novel make for very entertaining reading in blurb form and in book form. Historical fiction, genre romance, and adventure stories all get meshed together in an epic story that is satisfying but still leaves a world of possibilities in its final pages.

Fighting in a Napoleonic war circa 1812, Nick Falcott was faced with death and survived, but not because he was brave, cunning, or stronger than his opponent.  Nick Falcott reflexively traveled through time using an ability that he had no awareness of.  Time travel.  Impossible, yet Nick awoke in 2003, his body in a bed in modern London.  A man by the name was there to explain Nick's improbable situation - that of the time travel, the body's fight-or-flight reaction, and the international society in place whose goal was to nurture the time travelers that jumped forward within the river of time.  Nick gets placed in this organization long enough to go through their cultural adaptation classes, the goal to have him able to live in modern society at a functional level with periodic stipends provided by the society to ensure a good standard of living.

The society is about far more than getting people like Nick to live normal lives in their new time streams.  On a higher level, the society has its secrets and motives that go beyond assimilation.  Known as the Guild, this group of time travelers has a reputation throughout the time stream.  Reputations breed rivalries, and rivalries breed enemies.  Nick gets recruited to go back to the time he came from, or thereabouts, in order to prevent the enemies of the Guild from gaining access to an important item known as the Talisman.  The Talisman could be the key to disrupting the flow of the river of time, causing the future to slowly disappear.  With time travelers unable to travel past a certain date, it seems more and more likely that something is causing the demise of time itself.

1815 sees the precocious girl Julia Percy in an awful predicament.  Her beloved grandfather has just passed away and the estate has been taken over by a spiteful, bitter member of their extended family.  Julia's economic circumstances are unfortunately tied to this detestable creature.  While he has definite control over the estate, he does not have control over Julia's abilities.  Julia discovers that she can manipulate time, perhaps in a way similar to her grandfather, and it dawns on her that her grandfather may very well have wanted to protect that ability from falling into the wrong hands.  Little does Julia know that her ability is so much more powerful than she has ever anticipated, and that said ability will lead her into the arms of Nicholaus Falcott and his own time-related journey. 

Ridgway's debut novel is much larger in scope than I ever anticipated; the summary above is only the beginning of what this story promises.  I think that my expectations were all over the place as a result - the book itself was primarily linked with historical romance plus time travel in my head, so I wasn't quite prepared for the larger-than-life scope that it encompassed.  Even in YA stories about time travel, I don't think I've come across an attempt like this at telling the story from such a big view.  Each of the characters is complex, slightly unlikable, and very human.

Nick is the hero and is the character we see the most of.  Though the story opens with Julia being focused on in the third person perspective, Nick's point of view is the one that we see most often.  His story opens in a way that could be very ho-hum; the dropping-into-an-unknown-organization thing has the potential to be a major info dump extravaganza.  While not the fastest part of the story or the character arc, it does open up Nick's character and show the reader a bit of what they can expect.  Nick's personality comes across as one of a fairly agreeable person that gets caught up in some very unagreeable things, and he struggles with that sense of cowardice and lack of adventure throughout the book as his friends disappear, seemingly because they are much more forward and blunt with their emotions and suspicions than he is.  The growth of his character throughout the story as he gets caught up in the gray world of the Guild and his romance with Julia is entertaining and exciting; Nick's character feels a lot more dynamic when the story concludes and shows that he has the potential to be someone who can change the world, something that gets paralleled with his abilities in time manipulation.  Despite all of the growth, I had trouble connecting with Nick throughout some of the story because of this non-confrontational nature.  He's offset by many characters that aren't afraid to be brutal or over-the-top in order to get their way.  We see people like Julia and Arkady that are constantly at odds with one or more people around them, people that have definitive faults but also definitive strengths.  Nick comes across as less three-dimensional in comparison to these characters.  Possibly because he's the hero, possibly because he just gets overshadowed by Julia.  At the end of the day, he has a lot of potential that's shown in his reexamination of his place in the Guild and of its morals, and I think that he'll become a lot more dynamic as this story expands and shows its scope beyond the time period.

One thing that I did love about Nick was his interactions with his family.  Specifically, his sister Clare.  Ridgway does the cultural confusion of time travel quite nicely.  It's never as simple as a character getting used to foreign things for plain humor, though there is a level of humor in how Nick interacts with objects and people of different times due to the narrative's tone.  Nick's concerns about his sister are rich and show a lot of his character in a subtle manner.  On one hand, he understands that 1815 has certain expectations of women, especially women his sister's age, yet he struggles throughout the book to reconcile that with the knowledge of women's rights and civil liberties that he gained while living in the 21st century for ten years.  Then there is the further privilege that he shows of the class that he grew up in up until 1813 when he traveled through time.  Nick struggles with these character perspectives throughout the book.  He grew up in a conservative era with a lot of money, then matured in an era where he could witness the value of his previous position without so much bias and clouding, and then went back to the era that brought out his old habits that conflicted with his new ones.  Clare is just the best example of this because she has so many great discussions with Nick about economics, politics, and gender in the time period that truly give the reader an idea of who these two characters are as people within the context of their time.  Clare is strong in a way that Julia isn't because she understands how to use her position in the family to manipulate things to her desires without going against major social convention.  Nick is strong because he can use the things that he's learned to better appreciate the women in his life.

You may suspect that I like Julia Percy's character, more so even than Nick's.  And your perceptions would be spot on.  Julia Percy is my spirit animal.  She's a female character in alternate history (though not quite so alternate as...altered...) that is entirely too modern for her time but doesn't come across as being overly modern, if that makes sense.  Julia was raised by her grandfather and has a free spirit as a result, but she still maintains some of the qualities that we commonly associate with in regards to women in this period of time.  She is surprised when Nick is so bold as to physically touch her in sensual ways.  She is surprised at a lot of things that Nick does - as bold and smooth-tongued as he is in front of Julia, he still comes across as unconventional in his courtship.  The novel's plot revolves around Nick and Julia being unaware that they share time traveling powers.  Julia also knows next to nothing about the Guild, instead discovering her powers in a way that's more of a personal journey than an overreaching story arc like Nick's.  Because of this, she gets in situations that make her seem ignorant or less knowledgeable because of her gender, yet she then proves that she is intelligent by figuring things out on her own anyway.  Even though Julia does not know the extent of Nick's dealings with the Guild (or what the Guild truly is), she comes across as a girl that could deal with the facts and move forward smartly.  Ridgway respects Julia in this way and makes her story, though more diverting and less 'epic' than Nick's in many ways, just as appealing.  I was constantly excited for Julia's chapters because of the interest in seeing her powers develop; reading her theories about time travel and Nick's place in her life (and the possibilities surrounding him and Arkady) was so much more enjoyable from a reader perspective than I anticipated.  Julia's character is definitely the one derived from the historical romance genre that The River of No Return samples from, and that made her character a comfortable, whimsical voice to slip into after Nick's heavier philosophizing. 

The cast of characters is huge and this barely covers it.  There are some villains, some helpful allies that show their faces much later in the book, and some background characters that aid the story in nice little ways.  Readers will find themselves engaged with most of them, though the cast is much more concentrated in the middle when the dynamic between Nick, Arkady, Julia, and Clare gets developed prior to the development of the Guild's story arc.  As a result, some of the later characters feel less touched upon or more outwardly humorous, more as a way to relieve tension than to add to the depth of the story.  There is also a habit where some characters go on heavy discusssions involving the nature and philosophy of time; these discussions are intellectually stimulating and fascinating, but can feel a little too dense and wall-of-text for a story that, when at its best, moves briskly.

Ridgway's construction of her world is fantasy over science fiction.  Alternative history, time travel done as a magical power released in a life-or-death situation that later gets honed as an ability, potentially expanding to time travel in different directions.  Ridgway attempts to cover her bases with the world building by really getting into it, and she avoids a lot of logistical holes because of the world building.  Her characters clearly have to work at studying other languages to communicate, though the communication is mostly between time travelers that would be able to handle anachronistic behavior without much trouble.  The cultural boundaries are seen as something difficult to overcome but not impossible; characters maintain keepsakes from other time periods, though they don't discuss how that could potentially dilute the river of time (and, yes, the book does describe it as a river based on the Guild's theories.)  Ridgway's society felt very constructed and was artfully used as a way to make her characters question themselves.  Who is right and who is wrong?  Is there justice in blaming those who may not have done anything wrong because of suspicion and ulterior motive?  What morals are there are in messing up the time stream in an attempt to fix what people theorize being broken?  I loved this world because it was so based on the lack of assurance of the characters.  Ridgway has so much mystery in the time travel that's left to be awakened, and the historical settings are lush, rich, and researched.  The reader can easily tell that Ridgway knows what she's writing about but doesn't live just for the historical detail.

Debut novels often feel like a recipe that goes wrong the first time - the recipe that has so many ingredients that lead to forgotten ones (sometimes important ones, sometimes the smallest spices), the recipe is too simple and boring, like toast, or the recipe is just a smoking hot mess of char and agony that makes you want to throw up.  The River of No Return is of the first order.  Ridgway's book has a crap ton of ingredients in it.  Ridgway's writing is very solid, engaging and occasionally poetic without drowning in literary self-actualization, and it manages to combine all of the necessary elements in a way that doesn't feel feel like a hodgepodge of all of the individual ideas.  I loved the writing in this regard, but the pacing of the story fell into question more than a few times.  There are sections of this book that are undeniably slow.  It's not a story that's meant to be short, but I felt that there were sections that just capitalized too much on the philosophical and the historical rather than the characters and their places in the plot.  That being said, the book does have a much brisker pace towards the end that makes the occasionally ongoing description enjoyable.  The nice thing about The River of No Return is that it's a book that, once you get into it, you really get into it.  The ending was exactly what it needed to be.  Some things tie up, some things don't, and it leaves you with the notion that Ridgway has only just begun to give the reader an inkling of this world.

I want more.  While not a perfect read for me, there's something about this book that is incredibly satisfying.  Nick's character and the slow pacing both bog down the beginning, but as the story progresses and Ridgway starts intertwining her various genres, plot threads, and characters, there is a special kind of alchemy that comes together and makes it all addictive.  The River of No Return is an intelligent debut novel with writing that captures the romantic history of time travel without skimping on the plot and the action.  Nick and Julia are a couple that I want to follow through another book or two at least.  There's something about this world that suggests limitless possibilities, and what better way to open a series than with an infinite amount of possibility?

Cover:  This cover is eye-catching, but I don't think it really meshes the elements of romance, fantasy, history, and action that I associate with the story.  The cover suggests more of a historical novel in a very cold region that has lots of depressing things going on.  That ain't this book.

Rating:  4.0  Stars

Copy:  Received from publisher and author for review  (Thank you, Bee and Dutton!!) 

Title:  However Long the Night:  Molly Melching's Journey to Help Millions of African Women and Girls Triumph

Author:  Aimee Molloy

Publisher:  Harper One

Series:  None

Other Reviews for This Author:  None


I haven't read much nonfiction in my past few years, and the amount of nonfiction I've read dealing with non-profit organizations, volunteer work, and general do-gooding has been minimal at best, if not nonexistent.  The blurb for However Long the Night struck me because it dealt with a lot of things that I support one thousand percent (women's rights, sexual rights, general civil rights and equality) in a country like Senegal.  Specifically, the story as a narrative about a woman's goal-setting that led the country of Senegal to undergo a drastic change in civil opinion on female genital cutting (FGC).  I can't say that I could accurately grade this as a work of pure writing because, in this case, the quality of the work is based on presentation and the issues being addressed, not so much the direct stylistic variety presented, but I can certainly try.  Molloy's writing itself did not impress me, but the way she presented Molly's story - really, the story of the women of Senegal, including Molly - impressed me.  A lot.

Female genital cutting (FGC) has also been known as female genital manipulation (FGM) and female circumcision.  It's the action of cutting a female's genitals at some stage in her life for cultural reasons.  It almost assures a level of extreme pain at the time, and complications arise afterwords that range from pregnancy troubles to death.  Needless to say, FGC is a cultural practice that has been a major thorn in the side of women's health issues in countries that practice it, leading many of them to believe that women naturally have these health issues - or, in the case of the people of Senegal and similar cultures, that these women are inflicted with evil spirits that have come around due to other misdeeds.  FGC is something that has become known on the global scale in the last forty to fifty years, but, early on, campaigns to stop it from NGOs were mostly intent on demonizing it rather than understanding it. 

Molly Melching set out to change that after she gradually became more and more immersed in the culture of Senegal.  A child of the 50's and a college student of the 60's, Molly was a free-spirited go-getter that wanted something strange and wonderful out of her French degree, her foreign exchange time in Senegal leading her to falling in love with the country as a whole.  She learned what it meant to be a Senegalese woman; the culture and commitment to immersion was nothing short of a glorious challenge for her.  Molly's time led her to promoting education and awareness for women and children, practicing teaching techniques that promoted literacy and better education via the inclusion of a commonly-used language, Wolof, that wasn't recognized by the country's system of education.

Educating the people eventually led to so much more.  With brilliant people encouraging her, helping her understand Senegal and its ways, Molly eventually started an organization known as Tostan that used learning modules to help the women of various villages learn about health, project management, civil rights, and other important topics that would empower them as individuals.  Molly gave women a voice in their culture, slowly shifting what many believed to be the naturally right image of a silent, burdened woman to one with rights that was included in decisions.  In helping women embrace their equality and humanity while retaining their sense of cultural appreciation and rights, Molly eventually was approached with the challenge of helping local women rid the tradition of female genital cutting, known as 'the tradition' locally.

The question was - how to change a centuries-old practice and belief without imposing as an outsider?

Molly's story is simply told, but it works.  There's something about the basic, stripped-down prose of Molloy's that makes this story seem amazing.  Molly's work as a humanitarian is inspiring because, time and time again, it is presented that she was respected as an individual, as a woman, because she understood the importance of cultural understanding.  It wasn't a matter of giving money or instilling a belief of hers unto others in the most aggressive way possible, but a matter of spending years and years teaching, growing, and learning with the people that she wanted to help change.  Molloy is very detailed in her explanation of the events that surround the formation of Tostan and, later, the public declarations that villages would make regarding the goal to end FGC.  The story is positively brimming with well-handled language; nothing is just about Molly, but instead includes Molly.  For everything that Molly does, there is something that the women around her do as well.

That's what made this narrative such a great sell for me.  Though it was relatively straight-forward and free of authorial analysis that veered from the factual, it felt like a narrative of depth because the story was about so much more than what it told.  The surface issue is huge enough - ending FGC was something that happened in a very fast time frame considering how entrenched it was culturally, often a belief that many people associated with Islam (though Islam does not require it - the belief stemming from a lack of knowledge of the Islamic texts).  Ending something so culturally important was huge, and Molly's involvement as a teacher and as a member of the community is what allowed that to happen.  The text doesn't separate the people of Senegal from Molly - it's always a collective, textual proof that there is no difference between them save for the individuals they all are.  This theme was continually addressed as the narrative unfolded, and it was inspiring to see the consistent stress of community and knowledge in order to bring awareness and change in regards to equality and civil rights.  Peaceful protest; the presentation of knowledge; the power of the collective.

This is what will make the book great for a variety of readers, too.  Its focus on Molly's idea of cultural acceptance lends that concept to the entire reading experience.  Readers want to know more about Senegal and its people.  They get explanations as to why people practiced FGC and why it was looked down upon to discuss it or cringe in pain.  It showed just how stupid the western cries of 'barbaric' were counterproductive, for no one had thought to consider that a cultural thing like this had roots in love and tradition that many believed to be sacred.  Cutting a woman was considered good, as it allowed her to marry and be considered clean.  Cutting a woman was thought to be religious; a necessary burden.  It wasn't thought to be something done for no reason.  It wasn't something considered wrong.  They thought it was right.  Only in being educated about it, and in considering the pain that it led to physically and emotionally, did its practitioners get strong about wanting to stop it.  When they got strong, they got strong.


Where this book lacked was the connectivity to other things.  Straight-forward storytelling in regards to nonfiction can be an asset, but I think there needs to be a greater exploration in the depth and understanding of the source material.  It would have been helpful to include more about people that weren't Molly, as the chapters following other people within Senegal were fascinating and showed those various sides of the opinion on cutting.  Some history, some political background - I think I just expected a more in-depth concept of setting so that this story would feel complete in its immersion. Without it, Molly's story lacked the epic feeling that it needed for how great it really as.  The simplicity matched Molly's outlook in many ways, but it could have drawn more parallels with her life and given the reader a more personal connection with Senegal as well as Molly as the subject.  Nonfiction books like this need to hit that spot of emotional resonance so readers can better absorb the lessons within them.  As invested as I was in learning about FGC and Molly's amazing life, I didn't find myself engaged with the way it was presented to me, which caused the book to lose some of its overall effectiveness.

However Long the Night is important - it tells the story of a smart woman that set out to change the world by being a person and connecting with others organically, letting herself cross cultural boundaries.  Molly is inspiring; her work in Senegal is a testament to the positives that go with education and working for organizations in other countries.  As a story by itself, this book could not have done a better job at showing me this.  As much as I would have liked more in-depth writing, I can appreciate that Molloy brought this amazing story to my attention in the quality that she did.  It's a great book that will get people thinking and understanding just a bit about alternative ways to end harmful practices that go against health and civil rights without dividing people into groups of Others in the process.

Cover:  This cover is very beautiful; it's subdued in tone like the writing, but the content itself speaks of harsh histories that aren't as reflected.  I do appreciate the subtitle's emphasis on female empowerment.

Rating:  4.0  Stars  (3 for the writing, 5 for the story)

Copy:  Received from the publisher/publicist for review  (Thank you, Trish, TLC Book Tours, and Harper One!) 

Title:  Kissing Shakespeare

Author:  Pamela Mingle

Publisher:  Delacorte Press

Series:  None

Other Reviews for This Author:  None


Chalk up this read to another case of title/cover lust overriding any other reason for reading.  Pamela Mingle's debut novel caught my attention with its beautiful front and the accompanying title that promised both romance and theater.  While not the biggest Shakespeare fan, I can appreciate the use of Shakespeare as someone who's been exposed to it frequently within theater, and theater will always have me eager to try a book.  Mingle's book is not as romantic as it may sound, but it certainly hits all of the right notes for a book about theater - and readers interested in the historical presence of Shakespeare and his works will find Mingle's story to be full of vivid information, even if it doesn't always stand up as a well-paced narrative.

Miranda is following in the footsteps of her famous parents.  A daughter of two highly celebrated actors, Miranda has always attempted to prove her worth on the stage to them.  Living up to fame is stressful; Miranda's pivotal role in her school's production of The Taming of the Shrew could be exactly what she needs to catch her parents' attention.  If only opening night wasn't such a disaster.  Miranda just feels embarrassed that she would fail so miserably, especially with everyone expecting the world from her playing a part that her mother had made iconic in the world of Shakespearean theater.  She's a failure.

Right out of stage-left comes Stephen Langford, a member of the cast of The Taming of the Shrew that has been observing Miranda since practices began.  Stephen has a trust in Miranda's talent that goes beyond a casual acquaintance's - even a fan's.  His trust in her is so great that he's willing to offer her the acting opportunity of a lifetime, a role in a drama that spans across the sea of time itself.  Stephen wants Miranda to play the role of a seductress.  Miranda is recruited to effectively be the girl that will cause William Shakespeare to fall in love.  It sounds crazy - time travel?  Falling in love with William Shakespeare himself?  According to Stephen Langford, the reality is even crazier (if that's possible.) 

If Miranda does not seduce Shakespeare and cause him to fall in love, he is in danger of becoming a member of the clergy and never writing any of his pivotal works of theater.  What would the world be like without the influence of Hamlet, Macbeth, A Midsummer Night's Dream, or Romeo and Juliet?  Where would the western world be without Shakespeare's unusual turns-of-phrase, of his high drama and high comedy that have become keystones of theater and culture in the western world?  Miranda may think it's crazy, but Stephen pulls her in because the entire course of history is at stake, and the result is explosive.  Miranda has to learn to live and act as though she lived in sixteenth century England while also falling in love, but can she keep up the role she's designated to play?  Can she learn to seduce Shakespeare, or will fate make things much more complicated? 

When I picked up Kissing Shakespeare, the book suggested a story that was very romantic, a sweeping historical time-travel narrative (or perhaps a story loosely based on a historical figure related to Shakespeare) that was high on the drama and perhaps low on the expository detail, as YA historical novels can sometimes be.  Kissing Shakespeare was an unexpectedly enjoyable book because of the detail and the historical attention that it gave, though the plot was a lot lighter than I anticipated it being. 

Miranda's a character that, as someone who has done theater in school, I can understand.  She has a solid talent that is marred by the reputation of her parents, causing her to feel as though everyone expects her to be amazing and perfect at everything within the realm of acting.  Her abilities are called into question because she cracks under the pressure, and Stephen provides a way of giving her an ultimate test that doesn't feel like a test.  Mingle creates a character arc for Miranda that's very sweet and on the lighter end of the romance spectrum, focusing on Miranda bumbling around in the beginning as she struggles to acclimate to the sixteenth century - and to get in the mindset of being a seductress, something Miranda has never remotely been good at.  There are a lot of silly little mix-ups as Miranda attempts to refine her speech and appear as though she's a woman of the historical era.  Then, Miranda proceeds to form a weird friendship with Shakespeare as she tries to get him to love her while secretly falling for Stephen, who also lives in the same estate as Shakespeare.  While Miranda doesn't go through anything unexpected or unique, it's a very sweet character arc that ultimately leads to Miranda better understanding herself, the influence of Shakespeare on the western world, and believing in her talent as an actress.  Mingle presents all of this in a way that has a light and airy tone, one that would fit well with younger readers who may be unaccustomed to Shakespeare as a reading material outside of class, so Miranda's journey with understanding his works and the history behind them can sometimes feel too bold and too message-y in nature.  Miranda is a good heroine that could have had a really complex character arc within the time travel setting, battling all of her past history while dealing with a romance that she knows could not last because of her ties to the present, but Mingle sidesteps the exploration of those difficult personal themes because of her goals in giving a background on Shakespeare.  That's a disappointment when there's so much fun material to work with in Miranda's narrative. 

Based on the character sketch of Miranda, you can probably guess as to the level of development of the rest of the cast of characters.  Stephen is attractive, kind of infuriating in the beginning with how he brings about Miranda's time-travel role, and ultimately adorable as a love interest.  William Shakespeare varies as a character - brilliant but also easily led by the call of what he believes to be the call of god, when in reality it's a very convincing priest that has him believing that his sacrifice will be worth it even if his passion isn't really with the clergy.  Shakespeare really is the most interesting character in this regard.  His conflicts are unique to the time period and feel very authentic.  It was easy to tell that Mingle wanted Shakespeare's struggles to be very period-appropriate in both love and career choice, fitting in nicely with the state of religious upheaval occurring in England at the time.  The characters don't always have the same feeling of fleshing out that Shakespeare does, and the "villain" of the story can at times feel paper-thin in development, more so than the rest of the characters (though he isn't necessarily a villain-villain.) 

For a debut novel, Kissing Shakespeare relies much more on concept and overall narrative execution than anything else, and it mostly succeeds in those points.  The plot of the story may rely on a fantastical point like time-travel, but it mostly deals with the historical time period and includes a plethora of period details that are very well-researched and educated in their presentation.  While the story slows in pace because of Mingle's amount of expository detailing, I honestly felt like it was worth it.  Mingle doesn't skimp on providing her readers with information that gives the period a feeling of richness and vibrancy, and that's appreciated.  The historical plot of Shakespeare potentially turning to the clergy is also surprisingly intriguing in its presentation - anyone with an interest in sixteenth century England will probably find it more enjoyable than if it were mainly focused on the romance aspects, and I consider that a good thing with how romance can sometimes impede on historical detail in YA stories.  The only problem?  The plot that is so in-focus in the book's jacket feels minor in comparison to the question of to-clergy-or-not-to-clergy.  Romance and seduction?  Pah.  It's very clear from the beginning that Miranda's story is not going to be big on either aspect with Shakespeare, that her feelings are going to go in different directions.  This isn't awful, but the seduction aspect was such a big part of the selling point of the story that it felt dropped.  Mingle's writing feels along the same lines of the plot - historically rich and interesting, but occasionally lacking in brisk pacing and emotional development that would appeal to more experienced readers.

Kissing Shakespeare is the kind of book that will appeal to teacher libraries and middle school to high school transition readings.  It has a lot of history and appeal, sending a message that may get readers more interested in Shakespeare as a writer and as a historical figure.  That appeal is the kind of thing that will work very well as a supplementary text that will read a lot easier for students than actual Shakespeare.  However, it's disappointing in how it feels like it is written for a younger audience and thus lacks the emotional depth and development of more mature YA novels.  It's great to have things that will appeal to younger readers without getting challenged by schools, but it's not excuse for a lack of emotional development vital to a resonating story.  Kissing Shakespeare is an enjoyable debut novel that will be a welcome romp for fans of Shakespeare and YA time travel romance, but I find myself hoping that Mingle writes a story in a similar vein that capitalizes on those historical talents while improving on the characterization issues. 

Cover:  Perhaps not as fluffy-looking as the story itself is, but it's very pretty and will attract YA readers.  It's not just a model's face or a dead-girl pose, and the coloring of the picture is quite appealing.

Rating:  3.5 Reviews

Copy:  Received from publisher/publicist for review  (Thank you, Random House!!)

Title:  Tiger Babies Strike Back:  How I Was Raised by a Tiger Mom but Could Not Be Turned to the Dark Side

Author:  Kim Wong Keltner

Publisher:  William Morrow

Series:  None

Other Reviews for This Author:  None


I have not read the parenting memoir Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother, but it has been something that I've thought about reading since I first heard about its growing popularity in the literary world.  Tiger mothers are a huge image we associate with Asian American culture today, and it's hard to tell as white male outsider what to expect from this image in comparison to reality, when it's pretty evident that most mainstream media hasn't taken the time to flesh out its Asian American characters.  My image of Asian American mothers has always tilted towards the tiger mother stereotype, if only because it has gone along with first hand accounts of (admittedly an extremely small number) people that I have met that are Asian American.  I was highly interested in Keltner's rebuttal to the memoir praising this type of mothering because she represents a non-tiger mother who can give a realistic and honest portrayal of being parented (and parenting) within the Asian American culture in the United States.

Not having the knowledge of the memoir that inspired this rebuttal memoir, I can't do a side-by-side comparison of it as a reply to BHotTM, but I think that may work better for me because of the desire for fiction like this to stand alone.  Tiger Babies Strike Back is a great example of a light memoir that will clue people in on a general aspect of culture that is outside of the normal white male/white female focused culture that we see most often in memoir and nonfiction.  Keltner has lived through the events of this memoir since she was born, and she has a great voice that doesn't feel like it speaks universally for everyone in her culture.  It still attempts to adapt its discoveries to a larger whole (tiger mothers and their thus dubbed 'tiger babies'), but memoir is personal by nature and Keltner does it best when she sticks to that level of personality. 

As a response piece and as a memoir that claims to show the cultural differences in great detail, though, I think it falls flatter than it should.  Keltner's piece may be full of anecdotes that leave you in stitches (or cringing), but it lacks an internal organization that feels consistent.  Some chapters are relatively short and feel very much like retreads of previous ones.  Keltner would often make sure to reiterate one or two points over and over again - the lack of overall feeling in her mother's parenting and the ways in which kids were thought of as extensions of self, thus forcing perpetual modesty at the risk of being deemed full of one's self.  Keltner presents her reasoning best when she shows it in her personal stories, yet they feel strangely disconnected from the presentation of her ideas.  She would present the idea, tell the story, but seemingly avoid connecting them with her words during and after the story. 

It felt like Keltner was holding out on her readers, like there were things that she left un-thought, unsaid, that could have really provided an awesome individual insight as to the culture of Asian American parenting and how it can feel like one big hot mess of expectations.  That kind of reservation in memoir feels just...pointless.  What is a memoir but a giant reveal of ugly truths and strange, unnerving thoughts?  Memoirs should feel painfully honest sometimes, but this one held back too much to reach that level of searing honesty that would make it stand out in comparison to other works.  Keltner's stories may not have been personally damning or horrendous in nature, but they had undercurrents of negative behaviors that could have been better explored beyond the tiger mother behavior repetition. 

Some of the memoir's aspects really captured my attention.  The second half felt a lot more focused, the timeline becoming more linear as Keltner expressively showed what life was like after she left San Francisco with her husband to start a life in a less diverse town that would offer them more financial security in the long run.  Her lack of parental guidance led to her detailing her responsive parenting style, one filled with love and positive affirmation of her daughter.  She was able to step back and look at what she wanted to do differently, going from a family of tiger mothers to a family of gentle, sensitive mothers.  Keltner obviously is in favor of her parenting style - she describes herself often as a big "marshmallow"in comparison to her tiger mother - but notices the care that goes into the relationship between her daughter and her mother, how the generation gap seems to completely switch how a tiger mother deals with a child.  These moments of uncensored observation feel inherently more organic and telling of Keltner's experiences and thoughts on tiger mothers than the first half of the memoir, which switches between raw humor, attempted analysis, and anecdote.

Readers will probably find Tiger Babies Strike Back enjoyable and good for a different cultural viewpoint than their own, the humor and history woven into the memoir a brilliant way to teach people without preaching to them.  The biggest divide is the varying tones the memoir takes, never quite meshing Keltner's humor with the attempts at analysis and secret-sharing.  Keltner's memoir would have been an even quicker read if it had the organization and clear vision I had been hoping for.  As it stands, I enjoyed it and would recommend it with reservations, though I do look forward to reading Keltner's fiction in the future.  Her random pop culture humor may work a lot better in a novel than in an attempt at battling out parenting styles in Asian American culture. 

Cover:  This cover is attractive to a point.  The prominent title does the subject justice - it's far more interesting than the actual design. 

Rating:  3.5  Stars

Copy:  Received from publisher/publicist for review  (Thank you, Trish, TLC Book Tours, and William Morrow!) 

Title:  Easy

Author:  Tammara Webber

Publisher:  Berkley

Series:  None

Other Reviews for This Author:  None


So, you're reading this thinking, "What the hell - another blogger is going to rave about this amazeballs book.  And I should care...why?"  And you are totally, completely right.  I am another blogger that is going to rave about this amazeballs book.  But.  I am going to try and explain why beyond the squeeing, the hero-drooling, and all of that good stuff.  Easy should have been a book that was fun but not memorable.  It's a story that we can all imagine being told before, with characters that, in the beginning, seem to fit the mold of most NA characters these days (sensitive college girl and angsty musician).   Heck, these were a thing before NA become all the rage online. The question is - why is Easy so amazing if it doesn't have original parts?  It's Webber's spin on things that makes it amazing.  She takes a story that we've read, heard, imagined, and points out some parts of it that needed changing.  Tammara Webber proves that she is a writing rock star.  

Jackie made the mistake of going to the same college as her boyfriend, Kennedy.  Even though Jackie didn't make the decision just for him, she had no idea that he would break up with her, that their relationship would be toast.  Now, she's stuck looking at him during their economics class.  Kennedy's career in law and politics has always been a goal of his - and he knows that his days of sexual experimentation are meant for college, before he settles down and has to present something consistent and appealing to connect him to voters.  Sowing his wild oats means dropping the girl that he's dated for three years.  Abandoned, Jackie is pissed off at Kennedy and not even close to being over him.  Three years isn't something you just get over.

Two weeks later, Jackie's friend Erin is dragging her to a college party that she wants no part of.  Getting over Kennedy, staying inside and practicing her cello, and avoiding any potential confrontation with said ex are what Jackie can handle, but not going out and pretending everything's okay when it's not.  Booze and drugs and making out seem to make up the party.  It's bad enough that Jackie just wants to leave.  A drunken frat boy by the name of Buck follows Jackie out, drunkenly soliciting her for a hookup until he actually tries to rape her.  Jackie's savior is Lucas, a boy who's always been on the sidelines.  Until that night.

Saving Jackie was only the beginning.  Even as she's recovered from the shock of being violated, Jackie realizes that there's someone else breaching her defenses in a different way.  Lucas, her savior, is so much more than a good guy with a convenient uppercut.  The brooding exterior has something more, something that attracts Jackie despite her discomfort following her near-rape.  Lucas could end up saving her in more ways than one.  He could be the guy that lets her forget Kennedy; lets her move past Buck; lets her learn how to defend herself against the men that threaten to take advantage of her, whether it be a guy like her ex or a guy like Buck.  Falling in love with Lucas may not be simple, but it may be the best thing to happen to Jackie in a long time.

Here's where selling readers on Easy is going to be difficult.  There is an audience for this book that will be pre-disposed to like it because of the makeup (brooding college-aged hero who saves the protagonist who is struggling with self-identity as an independent adult), as we have seen in the recent surge of New Adult books that have been self-published.  Rockstars and musicians are hot commodities.  Lucas plays the guitar, so he falls into this category of hero that people are swooning over automatically.  On the same token, there are going to be readers that think this story is just like the hundreds of others being marketed and sold as awesome reads.  Jackie does have a lot in common with these heroines, so I'm going to give a run-down as to why I think she's better than most of them:

Agency:  Jackie has a goal that's beyond her romance and beyond her ex-boyfriend.  While she may be falling in love with Lucas, Jackie's story is also about self-realization and learning to empower herself.  Her character arc is about learning to fight back and to call out the guy that wronged her and probably other girls as well.  She becomes a superhero for girls that may have gone through something similar - not only does she reach her goals, but she is able to have a productive and healthy life because she has them, never once shaming those who are traumatized by the experience in the process.

Intelligence:  This girl doesn't make stupid mistakes.  She doesn't do anything that would have readers proclaiming her stupid and "bringing it on herself".  Her intelligence and awareness just allows the potential for slut-shaming to go down, which allows the author's discussion on rape victims and recovery to be developed with less reader conflict on the matter.  It also just presents a relief because she acts her age, that of a girl going to college and wanting to make a future.  A lot of complaints about lesser-written NA revolve around the protagonist sounding far younger and more immature than their stated age, and Jackie avoids that pitfall in her narrative.

Romance:  The way Jackie handles her romance is believable.  Granted, there are readers who are rightly concerned with the proximity of romantic and sexual feelings towards Lucas so soon after a rape attempt, but it's worth noting that each victim is different and that Webber wrote Jackie as a type of character that would not avoid everything completely in order to cope with the trauma of the event.  Jackie's character type has her wanting to move on - and she does - but her romance with Lucas is complex.  They are attracted physically, but she only really comes into a full-on-love attraction when she realizes that she's also falling for him as a personality.  His intelligence and scruples are what attracts her.  Basically - she goes for a guy that treats her well and is a good person, and that is shown as being the ultimate for their relationship going into forever territory.  It's not because he's hot or sexy; it's because he's safe and good for Jackie, and this character decision that she shows in her narrative makes her above some of her counterparts that don't make their decisions quite so clear or positive in their tone. 

So, don't get me started on Lucas.  He's just great.  A bad boy in some ways, but a good one in every way that counts.  He's sexy and masculine, but sensitive.  Lucas is the kind of guy that you read about and think, "Damn, I want one of him.  Make it two.  Or twelve."  Positive guys like him remind me of why I like YA and NA romance - even when the guys are bad, good authors write them in ways that are positive for the heroine.  Lucas may be a little too romanticized or perfect for some readers, but in this case, it works.  He doesn't overtake Jackie in terms of character development (it is her story, after all) but becomes so much more than the guy perfect for her self-positive romance.  Webber gives him a unique backstory that feels realistic and gives motivation and plausibility for his knowledge of self-defense and his treatment of women.  She makes him human; she removes the air of his being "too perfect" by allowing him to be broken prior to his time with Jackie.  They repair each other and give each other the chance to shine as individuals.  It's beautiful and made this book so full of win that I wanted to shove it on all of my friends as an example of a book with a romance empowering for females.

I can't ignore that this book has a clear message, and that will be another thing that readers will get divided on.  The depiction of rape or attempted rape and its aftermath is a highly sensitive subject.  Some authors do it so badly that you want to rip their book to shreds after closing it, while others do it in a way that explores the sensitivity and the vulnerability to a point where it could be uncomfortable for some victims to read it.  Webber chooses a route that's in the middle - realistic, but not so emotionally entrenched in the potential for depression and self-blame that the story becomes a story about Jackie repeatedly cycling through those thoughts.  It won't work for everyone, but Webber has a clear message that, regardless of how one views Jackie's story, rape should not be tolerated.  One scene towards the end makes this book.   I won't spoil it, but let's just say that Webber has a character vocalize a huge bit about feminine empowerment and the need to address rape regardless of the rapist, that it's not an action to ignore or excuse.  It's done beautifully and believably without being a big long speech or tirade, and I think that's where Webber succeeds most.  Am I happy with this because I agree with her message?  Hell yes.  This is a message that needs to be showcased in fiction, and I found myself cheering with the book instead of criticizing the intent (which I tend to do with books that feel like they are written just to Send a Message.) 

Webber's storytelling is exactly what this book needed, and it has me really excited to read her backlist when I get around to her.  Her writing is not the kind that would impress you if you separated individual sentences - it's the kind that captures you in the overall package; the passages and the chapters flow in such a way that you can't stop reading.  She makes the most simple things feel important and shows the snippets of college life well.  They don't feel like retreads of boring scenes or day-to-day stuff that gets repeated twenty times, but they don't feel like they are experiences that are too unique to happen to readers.  She gets a tone of voice that is more mature than a YA narrator without aging it up too much.  Basically, Jackie sounds like an adult that doesn't feel the need to tell her story with a level of literary cushioning.  She's honest and real.  It sells it.  I think Webber knows how to write for her audience as a broad spectrum - teens, young adults, new adults, whatever - and that's why she's a key example that NA writers should follow.  She doesn't talk down or talk up to her audience, using the experiences of NA life as a touchstone for how her characters would appropriately react and behave.  She gets that journey of realizing that adulthood has begun.  I could read NA for a long time if its writers had the same quality and skill that Webber shows in this novel.

Buy this book.  Read it.  Share it with friends.  Put it in classroom libraries, in doom room lounges, in dentist offices and employee break rooms.  Give people a chance to read it.  This book is empowering.  It says something phenomenal in a way that people don't expect, and it's about two people that are confused and slightly broken falling in love, repairing each other and becoming a stronger whole.  Jackie and Lucas are people that I will love to read about again - and I don't think that very often.  Allow the people in your life, especially girls, to read this and see that they have power and agency, that they are not alone. 

Cover:  This cover is very commonplace for the NA genre, but I like the model used for Lucas.  It just...works. 

Rating:  5.0  Stars

Copy:  Received from publisher/publicist for review.  (Thank you, Rosanne and Berkley!!)