All American Boys is a big-issue book that also makes an excellent character study. Rashad, a sixteen-year-old African-American boy, is the victim of police brutality. Quinn, a sixteen-year-old white boy, is a witness to Rashad's beating. These two guys live in the same city and go to the same school. Quinn plays on the same basketball team as some of Rashad's friends. And yet they barely know each other.
It's an occupational hazard that I read lots of different things for lots of different reasons. Don't get me wrong, they are almost all very good and I enjoy almost all of them, but there's the underlying awareness that I most likely wouldn't have read the majority of them if not for my job so they always feel just a little bit like work. Then there are books like this one that feel completely and entirely like fun.
Taylor Greer has just graduated from high school in rural Kentucky. Born to a poor, single mother and without many of life’s advantages, Taylor manages to talk her way into a lab technician’s job at the hospital, save enough money to buy a beat up Volkswagen Bug, and get out of town before she winds up pregnant or as some tobacco farmer’s wife. Most of Taylor’s pluckiness can be attributed to the roots her mother has provided her—encouragement and faith in her daughter’s abilities that are worth far more than the money she doesn’t have to offer.
Let me share a secret with you. I'm ashamed to admit, but I'm a total snob when it comes to wealthy characters. I generally find them unlikable, which I know is awful judgy of me. No matter how great John Green says it is, I wanted to barf all the way through The Great Gatsby.
There are two things you know. One: You were there. Two: You couldn't have been there.
Wondering how that can be? So is Caden. Sometimes. When he stops to think about it. Often he just goes along and doesn't question things, just accepts that's the way they are. But other times he feels out of sync with his family, friends, and others around him. He feels confused.
The House You Pass on the Way is a short novel--less than 100 pages--but it contains unusual depth and beauty. It's a pre-sexual love story about two fourteen-year-old cousins who don't yet know where they fit in. One girl, Staggerlee, is biracial--black and white. One girl, Trout, is adopted. Both girls are struggling with their budding sexuality. Are they gay? Are they straight? Does it matter?
"Challenging" was the first word I heard used to describe this book. I think "surreal" was the next. Following that was "impossible to describe." Even the author herself, when asked to describe the book, talked about the themes and ideas that led to its creation without attempting to describe the plot or characters.
In general, I like my superhero stories epic and idealistic. The "fresh take on superheroes" idea is getting pretty worn out, and I've grown tired of people deconstructing superheroes and trying to apply the genre to "real life." But Zeroes pulls it off and really does seem fresh and original, even when relying on some standard clichés of both superhero and YA fiction.
Sheltered and naive. That's the narrator of this book. She's always lived a protected, easy life, and doesn't have much to be anxious about. Of course, she lives in a world without poverty. Where there has never been a murder in her lifetime. Where crime, accidents, and disease are minimal, and almost everyone lives happily and safely to old age. (As far as she knows, anyway.) So life is good and there's no reason to question anything.
