Putting Some Tarnish to Those Lovely Red Slippers: Danielle Paige’s Dorothy Must Die

Lions, and tigers, and bears . . . and evil tinmen and creepy scarecrows and cruel experiments and slave labor and more . . . oh my . . .! To say that Danielle Paige’s Dorthy Must Die takes quite the turn from the traditional Wizard of Oz (well, the kiddie-story-version of the tale, anyway) would be an understatement. It would, however, be a reasonable corroboration of the 1985 movie, Return to Oz, in all it’s terrifying glory.

But what it also does is incorporate elements from author Baum’s subsequent Oz novels, which talk about a Mombi, and an army, which has a Princess Ozma and flying monkeys, that features a broken Oz in need of fixing, that has different factions of Oz ruled by different people, including a Gnome king, that have humans with bicycle wheels for hands and feet, and that feature a Deadly Desert. To be fair, as a child, I had no idea that there even were subsequent books about Oz, and I certainly didn’t read them. But I do remember seeing Return to Oz and having nightmares for maybe a decade afterwards.

Dorothy Must Die is considerably less scary than the movie Return to Oz . . . perhaps partially because I’m older, but more importantly, because it lets the reader into the heads of the actors, and because we’re following Amy, a heavily bullied young woman from a difficult family situation who stumbles into Oz in a tornado. In Oz, she meets the strange and illusive Pete, a band of wicked witches, and many others, as she learns that Oz is a broken place . . . not because Dorothy left, but because she came back.

As Amy puzzles her way through where she is, how she got there, and what she needs to do, she learns a lot about herself, her family, and finds that she’s actually a much stronger person than she’s allowed herself to believe before.

What I Liked About the Book:

1. The book begins with Amy taking constant bullying from her peers at school and, while she does stand up to it occasionally (there were definitely some cringe-inducing moments for me when she just couldn’t keep quiet), it’s no big surprise to see how it’s affected her demeanor. The best part, though? Her experiences dealing with bullies at home actually increase her skill set in Kansas and prove to be powerful tools in her skill set. I thought that this was a particularly powerful tool for the author to use to show how it’s possible–indeed, necessary–to learn from experience and use those tools where possible.

2. Much of the tale–at heart–is about Amy finding herself, which is a great tale for any teen to read, but especially one where the protagonist isn’t already in a great family (regardless of socioeconomic status), which seems to be a go-to in YA Lit. Instead, she has an alcohol/drug dependent, depressed mother; a father who’s MIA; a glowing awareness of how much she dislikes her place in the world; and a burning desire to get out as quickly as possible.

3. The characters are many and interesting. Best of all? They turn the saccharine-sweetness of MGM’s movie into something bolder, darker and more in flux.

4. I actually really liked Dorothy as the evil ruler–again, cutting into the uber-sweetness of the MGM tale, it really helped to bring the reader into a different time and place–and to show how people can change. Just as Amy grows in confidence and ability, Dorothy has, too. The good have turned wicked and the wicked work for good–this concept of the personal capacity for change works in both directions, which is a concept that I don’t see often enough in YA Lit.

5. Amy is repeatedly told not to trust anyone. By virtue of this, she’s taught to question the words, acts, motives and honesty behind each and all of the individuals she interacts with, even those she wants to believe in. More importantly, though, it forces her to learn to rely on herself: her own ideas, her own strength, her own capacity and intelligence, in order to formulate a clearer idea of what she is truly capable of accomplishing.

What I Didn’t Love About It:

1. I think Amy concluded–in describing what she was seeing around her–that about 90% of the characters looked “about [her] age.” In those words. Exactly. Repeatedly. Enough so that it was a distraction.

2. There’s also inconsistency with how Star’s described. In the beginning (and at various times throughout the story), Star’s Amy’s mom’s beloved pet, and Amy’s disgusted/grossed out/jealous(?) of this critter, but generally dislikes her. However, as Star makes the trip to OZ with Amy, suddenly Star’s Amy’s rat, her close friend, and even her bed companion.  All of which is confusing, because it’s like a switch is flipped in Amy in relation to the once-annoying rat.

3. It felt like there were a number of times when I found myself mentally wandering. I was listening to the Audible edition, which was fairly well narrated, but Amy has a tendency to circle in her mind around the same dilemmas repeatedly, with no or little new information to add to them. Sadly, when I’d realize that I’d been spacing, I could immediately tune right back in and not even need to rewind and listen again to what I’d missed.

4. Even after finishing the book, I don’t understand how Dorothy was able to ascend and become the monster beast she is. I think a little more background, a little hint at Dorothy’s internal motivations, would have helped to make this clearer and would have possibly created a basis for further and better ideas. Or why others who are either as powerful or similarly so wouldn’t take issue with her draining of resources for unknown personal use.

5. Astrid’s relationship to the Scarecrow–at least, her suggestively insinuated relationship? SUPER gross.

Overall:

This is a really interesting take on a story that could use a little tarnish on it’s technicolor glory, which I appreciated. It needs better editing, which is my biggest gripe, but otherwise, it makes for an interesting tale!

Perhaps Marissa Meyer’s Fairest Isn’t All that Fair After All . . .

The Lunar Chronicles + me= LOVE. I’ve enjoyed engaging in this dystopic sci-fi fantasy play on classic fairy tales, and have sought out each book by Ms. Meyers. With a beautiful blend on story-telling, humor, whimsy and a plot-driven narrative underlying fanciful characters, these are some serious fun reads. But even beyond fun, the books hold a certain backbone of truths to them: the ideas of acceptance, appreciation of oneself, understanding who you are, etc, are all common place in these (not surprising, in light of the fairy tale characters that they’re named for), but the complexity with which the idea of government, politics and character politics are presented is also interesting.

In most of the previous books of the series, the overarching threat to Earth are the Lunars, the strange beings who live on the sun, avoid cameras and are generally kind of creepy. Case in point, Queen Levana, the monarch governing this group of people. And, while the vast majority of Lunars seem to be pretty darn cool with her and her devious ways, not all are. In fact, some dislike/disagree with her so much that they’ve jumped ship, escaping the moon to return to planet Earth, despite the threats to them should they do. When a seemingly incurable epidemic sweeps Earth, killing the vast majority of people on the planet, and leaving the Lunars in a position of power–as, though the humans on Earth don’t know this–the disease sweeping Earth is actually a Lunar-made epidemic. And the point of it? To force the hand of the Earthen monarchy into agreeing to the Lunar demands.

In Fairest, we get a first-hand glimpse at Queen Levana from the inside out. To all on the outside, she’s recognized as a beautiful, mirror-phobe and the heartless ruler of Luna. That, however, is not the only issue.  However, in this take on the “evil queen” character, we learn that she’s her own complex individual, too, and in many ways, just as bad–and likely worse–than expected.

What I Liked About This:

1. Ms. Meyer’s writing is rich in character development. She paints her characters as complex individuals, and perhaps none so much so as Levana. We see, in this short installment, Levana’s childhood, adolescence, the factors that impacted her and likely influenced her decision-making with the Earthens. But we also see how her mind is twisted; this is no light-hearted fairy tale story–this is pretty much as dark as it gets.

2. This addendum to the series–the next full installment is due out I believe this fall–adds a layer of complexity to the story. It’s a reminder that, yes, Levana’s the “bad guy,” but even as the “bad guy,” she’s the sum total of her life to date. This is a particularly interesting insight in light of her politicking, suggesting that perhaps more attention should be paid to the lives of people in power, rather than simply what is made readily clear.

3. Contextually in the course of the series as a whole, this is an interesting installment, providing insight on issues not otherwise clear from the main series. Questions like: what is killing everyone? How did it come to earth? Why was it developed? and the like are all addressed in it.

4. We learn about the use of glamours on Luna, one of the big questions I’ve found myself wondering along the way, as we learn more and more about the Lunar people and Levana.

What I Didn’t Love About it:

1. Levana’s a really horrible person. Period.

2. Yet I feel mildly sorry for her, and not in a you’re-an-ok-person-and-just-misunderstood way. I mean it in a gee golly, you’re a terrible person and you’ve had some bad things happen to you, but your horribleness is really self-created.

3. I felt like this book had a different tone to it. While the other books are plot-driven, with a clear story arc and development of the characters, this book felt like it began randomly and ended randomly, with a story that felt more like a retelling of events than an actual plot with an arc. Also, while the others incorporate humor and adventure aspects, this was really just a dark narrative.

4. There were some surprisingly adult/sketchy aspects to Levana and her relationship with her considerably older love interest. I don’t want to ruin the book with too many details, but I was definitely surprised to read about her relationship and the insane way in which she’s depicted as essentially taking him over. At the same time, I felt that it was almost justifiable–she’s lost her parents, dealing with being the court outcast, etc. But really, upon taking a step back? Just really disturbing.

5. Also disturbing? The rampant insecurity that leads her to make any and all of her major decisions, even when they seemingly are arrived at from non-sketchy places. And while I totally understand that insecurity is a major issue/theme for young adults, and especially in young adult literature generally, this didn’t quite work for me.

Overall:

Well, I do think if you’re into the series that it’s worth taking a peek at, as it does provide background/context information that’s worth checking out. However. It was definitely not, in my opinion, of the same caliber as the other books in the series, and was much darker than the other books were, as well. Read at your own risk/edification!

Anyone else out there pick this one up? Have a bit of a squee feeling from it?

Revisiting an Older YA Piece: Suzanne Weyn’s Bar Code Tattoo

What makes YA Lit so different today from where it was even a decade ago, let alone a century? What’s changed so much that there’s a clear divide between what we’ve come to expect from new releases compared to that published for the same age groups, for the same interests, for the same people, not all that long ago?

Recently, I read Suzanne Weyn’s 2004 YA novel, The Bar Code Tattoo, which has since had several sequels, some press, and increased popularity with the newer books. And, having had the opportunity to speak with the author directly, I was intrigued to learn her own opinions on this book as well as how the series itself has developed.

The Bar Code Tattoo predates all those awesome, action-packed, sci-fi-ish dystopic works that seem to be becoming Hollywood movie fodder by the droves. And, to be honest, there are a number of aspects of the story where you can feel the difference: not quite as polished, not quite as active, not quite as in-the-brains-of-the-reader. But overall, it is a compelling idea: that, at some point in the not-too-distant-future, everyone receives a bar code tattoo that’s encoded with vital personal information. It is then this tattoo that is scanned for everything from payments at the grocery store to job interviews. (Again, there are parts that don’t quite sync up: so we’re futuristic that everyone’s bought into these tattoos, but we still drive cars that require gas? And we’re far enough in the future that people are willing to ignore privacy rights, but not so far that there are still toll booths on highways? Far enough in the future that people seem to prefer spandex for clothing, but they don’t text or carry cell phones? Far enough in the future that they’re using a special brain frequency helmet to see what other people around the nation think about the tattoo, but our protagonist fails to realize when she’s hiding out in an abandoned lodge that people can trace her email usage to that location?)

In speaking with the author, what struck me was how she envisioned the whittling away of our individual rights increasingly. While this may come across as being somewhat paranoid, I did think that there was truth in the idea. People do use debit and credit cards increasingly, with Denmark declaring themselves recently to be a cash-free country in the next year or so, and that will allow the tracking of purchases easily. We have to show ID to leave and enter countries and, if asked, when pulled over even just walking down the sidewalk, depending on the state you’re in. The “choice” to agree with and conform to new “safety” measures like bag searches at random are at once treated as mandatory and suspect if you won’t conform.

In The Bar Code Tattoo, we see a group of teens rebelling against the “optional” mandate that people get their tattoos, that they conform to this government-mandated system. However, as people begin to experience strange results linked to their tattoos–formerly wealthy, successful families suddenly homeless and jobless, due to information encoded in their tattoos that they’re not told about–this group of young people question why they should conform.

I didn’t love the set up, as it felt a lot more questionably attenuated than most stories we read in YA nowadays. Our protagonist magically telepathically connects to some random Native American-esque woman? She inexplicably manages to be the focal rebel of the tv stations for refusing the tattoo, despite the fact that other adults have refused it? The author noted that she’d originally wanted to include a scene about a teen pregnancy, which would have grounded this a little more, but at the time of publication, the publisher was uncomfortable with that idea. Same thing with racial diversification on the cover, which is clearly not an issue with YA books released today (or . . . maybe it is, and I just don’t know?)

The concept behind the book is clearly American paranoia fiction, with some futuristic elements involved. But what made it hard for me to become absorbed in it was the fact that it was too soft (I can’t think of a better word!) compared to the nitty gritty we’re used to seeing today in YA Lit. There’s no swearing, no sex, no suggestion of either, no real violence per se (a high speed chase and references to fights don’t really compare to the detail we see nowadays), no bigger picture concerns, and a whole boat full of naivete that I don’t think would work today. (Not to say that more recent protagonists aren’t naive. Just perhaps not this much in this type of YA literature).

BUT. The concept is fascinating, and certainly one that feeds the ever-increasing security measures, concerns, etc that we see being put into place around us. The book was sound, I think what it needed was a reboot. Over a decade after it was initially published, it felt like there needed to be some updates made, just as I’ve noticed happening to some of the older teen classics by Lois Duncan and the like so they continue to be relevant.

Anyone out there a fan of this series? Ever picked up this book and have some thoughts on it?

Another Perspective on All That Drama: Kiera Cass’s Selection Stories

Prince? Check. Young women vying to beat the shit out of each other for said prince? Check. National rebellion? Check. Difficult and slightly squee love triangle? Check. Am I talking about the latest in reality television, British edition? NO!

Recently (again, now that the long-winded Victorians appear to be behind me) I indulged in finally reading through Kiera Cass’s companion novel, The Selection Stories: The Prince and The Guard. Honestly, I didn’t really have high hopes for these, which is why I’d backburnered them. I sort of put reading them in the same category as Stephanie Meyer’s leaked Edward-narrated version of Twilight. Interesting, total brain candy, but nothing really beyond that.

Here’s where the two differ (and don’t get me wrong, cause I love me some Stephanie Meyers): this is actually a finished collection, reflected in the quality of the writing and the completeness of the selections presented. Sure, more could be written, but as companion pieces, they were enjoyable and certainly clarified some of the elements of the original, America told story, that seemed somewhat puzzling. (Like just how did Aspen get that note to America? And what was Maxon gonna do in the garden, if not make a pass at America?)

As with any given love triangle, there are certainly eye-roll-inducing moments, all the way around. Case in point: Really, Aspen, it didn’t occur to you that you actually really cared about America AND that she cared about you in return? And, Maxon, it never occurred to you that you might have some ladies participating in your selection who find the entire experience overwhelming? Or who might garner in-fighting to get a “leg up” on their competition?

But all in all, these companion pieces do just what companion pieces are intended to do: shed a little bit of additional light on a story that’s already loved and enjoyed enough that readers are interested in getting every little bit more about it that they can. If you’re a fan of the Selection series and have a spare afternoon, this one’s a super fast, super enjoyable read that helps offer a little clarity on the original.

Also, for those Selection fans out there, don’t forget that the next book in the series, The Heir, is out in a couple of weeks (!!!!) and the second companion book, Happily Ever After, is due out this fall.

On Heroes, History and a Whole Lot of Humor: Cassandra Clare’s The Bane Chronicles

Ah, Ms. Clare. You are the death of my productivity and the consumer of my spare time! 🙂 When I saw that she was releasing an entire book compiling all those random Magnus Bane stories that’ve been trickling out to Amazon, how could I possibly say no? And, as soon as my eternity of reading monolithic Victorian novels concluded, how could I not immediately jump at the opportunity to devour such wonder? Well, obviously I couldn’t. On any count.

The Bane Chronicles, featuring none other than everyone’s famously sexy, powerful, and flamboyantly bisexual warlock is, amongst other things, probably one of the most entertaining books that you’ll pick up this year. Why? Because for those of you who, much like myself, have been eagerly paging your way through the Mortal Instruments and Infernal Devices series with Cassandra Clare and her several shadow writers, what you really can’t bear the idea of is that these worlds of wonder would ever really end. And with the conclusion of both these series–even with the suggestion of additional Shadowhunter series being released–it’s hard to imagine saying good bye to this amazing world and having to start over again in a new one. Surely there can be no best friend as endearingly witty and annoying as Simon! Certainly no hot guy as oddly hot as Jayce! No cats as cleverly named as Chairman Meow (and, apparently, the Great Catsby)!

But as the series fan realm crosses our collective fingers that we won’t see the end of these beloved characters, there is hope. The Bane Chronicles presents another perspective of the stories and characters we’ve come to love and adore. We get more information about the complex politicking that rules the downworlders, more about what warlocks are actually supposed to do/be, more about Magnus himself and the events that shook the world (both human and magical) during his centuries of living, more about his ties (both nefarious and otherwise) with the characters that we know from the series. Interestingly, we even get a closer look at why Raphael is, well, Raphael. We see an insider perspective on Magnus’s relationship with Alec. We get a taste of what eternity really means for Magnus, and have the wonderful opportunity to roll around in his head for a little while. Delicious. 🙂

What you won’t get–if that’s really what you’re looking for–is explanation about the series itself. If that’s really what you’re hunting for, save this little cupcake for later and get thee to Wikipedia to investigate the answers to what you don’t understand. Better yet? Go reread the series again and figure out what you missed the first time.

But if what you really want is to flesh out these beloved characters a little better; if what you’re hoping for is a giggle or a hundred over witty comments and awkward moments, then this is a read you absolutely can’t miss.

Add Some Fava Beans to the Pot, Clarice, You’ve Got Company!: Barry Lyga’s I Hunt Killers

The title pretty much says it all with this book: I Hunt Killers. And Barry Lyga makes sure to remind us that his protagonist, Jasper Dent–self-absorbed high school student/son of famous serial killer William Dent–really, really wants to do that. Over. And over. And Over again. Yet despite this, Mr. Lyga hooks the reader immediately in the complex psychological debates that Jazz finds himself fighting through daily, the compromises that he makes to continue his daily existence and the routines he’s created to make the days less painful.

The story is pretty intriguing on the surface: Jazz is basically raising himself following the arrest and imprisonment of his father, killer of 123(4?) people over his killing lifetime. Big daddy Dent is smart, calculating, cold as ice and just as heartless. But he does have a soft spot for his son, whom he raised to learn the family trade: killing. So, after his father’s arrest by the local sheriff, Jazz is (understandably) a social pariah, hounded by the media, lost and alone (his mother “disappeared” years before) and is left with little by way of a support system, other than his best friend, Howie, and his girlfriend, Connie.

In his spare time, he apparently sneaks into the  sheriff’s office and the morgue and pretty much anywhere else he fancies, using the skills his father taught him for breaking and entering. With a new killer presumably on the loose in the town, Jazz is convinced the murderer’s a serial killer and reaches a near-panicked feverish pitch in his need to assist in catching the murderer.

Now, I can think of quite a few teenage boys who would love nothing more than to take some of their spare time and investigate crimes/murders, but Jazz’s desire to do so reaches an almost feverish pitch. As noted, he’s got more than a few issues that he’s working out, not the least of which being just how much of his genetic/mental/psychological/emotional make up comes thanks to dad.

As a character, Jazz is an interesting one. He’s more intense than Thomas in James Dashner’s The Maze Runner, but in many ways just as smart and willing to put himself out on a limb, eyes on the prize, without thinking twice. However, he’s on constant psychological ice, trying to decide how best to present himself and then questioning what it means that he’s stopping to ask himself that. In some ways, he kind of reminded me of Harry Potter in the later books, when he becomes darker, more inwardly turned and moodier, yet still avidly concerned about his friends. He’s definitely dynamic, which keeps the story moving!

Here’s What I Liked About the Book:
1. Jasper’s a pretty smart dude, and doesn’t need to rely on fart jokes or bodily part references to make himself heard. He’s attentive and loyal to those who are loyal to him, which is a trait that comes across repeatedly as missing in representations of teens boys in YA Lit. Notably, he’s also highly manipulative–and knows it. While I can’t say I particularly enjoy this as a trait in, say, a new friend or co-worker, I can say that I think it’s an interesting plot twist in and of itself.

2. We get *a lot* on Jazz’s inner workings and turmoil over the course of the narrative. I actually think this is a good thing and, again, something that we tend not to see too much of in YA Lit males.

3. Mr. Lyga did his research for this one, clearly. There’s quite a bit of very good and very detailed information out there about serial killers, sociopaths, psychopaths, etc. to dig through, but you have to be willing to do just that: dig through it. He did, and it pays off in spades here.

4. When we talk about the reinvention of the YA Thriller, this, my friends, is what we need to see more of. It’s not the oh-no-we’re-trapped-in-an-abandoned-carnival (a la Laurie Stolarz’s Welcome to the Dark House). Nor is it the oh-woops-I-can’t-remember-what-happened-when-I-was-attached-and-now-don’t-get-my-boyfriend (a la Jennifer Armentrout’s Don’t Look Back). It’s taking the inner workings of an adult thriller and turning them upside down and letting the YA Lit reader enjoy the mystery and emotion that makes classics like Silence of the Lambs classics.

5. Even aside from Jazz, the characters all seemed dynamic and interesting. None of them were truly one-note, and all of them added to the tension and movement of the plot line to both build the drama as well as minimize the craziness of Jazz’s lifestyle.

What I Didn’t Love About It:

1. Ok. NO WAY will the police involve a teen–especially a teen with a history of a sociopathic, serial killer dad that he’s still recovering from–assist in an investigation. Period. Liability being the very least of the relevant related issues with that.

2. NO WAY would Jazz be allowed so many “chances” to stay out of the way, either. Breaking and entering into the morgue? Stealing confidential files? Contaminating crime scenes and evidence? NO WAY.

3. Equally unbelievable is the idea that Jazz would have just stayed where he was after dad’s arrest. Especially with the media zoo he references and the looks/whispers/rumors/etc that he repeatedly notes are floating around about him. What kind of life is that?

4. Nor do I fully buy the idea that he’s been living with senile/mildly dangerous grandma, being visited apparently with some regularity by a social worker, and she doesn’t pick up on just how senile grandma is. Granted, Jazz is a manipulator and we see how he strong arms the social worker into hearing out his case and sympathizing with him, but still. Not buying it.

5.  While Jazz does make for an interesting and sympathetic protagonist, holy crap can he be self absorbed! At multiple points in the story I found myself rolling my eyes over some of the crap he was belaboring–and actually found myself cheering Connie for giving him the verbal smack down (though I have my doubts about her willingness to date him, as well).

6. There are a number of strings left untied, build-ups left open, questions left unanswered. Presumably this is because the author builds the tension in the last third of the book with an eye towards book two in the series, but it feels a little sloppy nonetheless.

Overall:

The story sucks you in at the beginning and largely delivers on what it promises. This is the first book of a series, and it definitely read like it was. There are a number of strange plot holes/missing answers to questions. What you do get by the end, though, is an interestingly twisted tale.

Anyone else out there a fan of thrillers? Interested in this series?