Books I Want to Read in 2016

2016 may be a crazy year for me, but it's one I'm excited for in regard to reading because I'm changing things up a bit. In addition to reading what I've got on hand (except anthologies/reference/collected works books which are more of a "read as needed" and "lifetime reading list" type of thing), I want to finally get around to those that have been on my reading list forever, and I want to start a project of reading children's/middle grade classics (and newer releases) that I never got around to. My library and its Overdrive service are going to become my best friends, because I realized that buying them for the purpose of having a good children's collection is not necessary right now and something I can always do later on. Ultimately, by knocking out some of these titles I've wanted to read for a long time, I hope to feel really accomplished with slashing down my reading goals. (Next year: reading more classic YA?)

So! Without further ado, here are books that I'm (very probably) going to read in 2016, accompanied by others of course that I'm not going to plan for. There are a lot more here than I would like, but the middle grade books are short and shouldn't take that long. I'm also not including books that will be released in 2016, as I don't buy most new releases and I'm going to make a separate post about that (I'm excited though!). Chances are one or two might be read next year, though!

Middle Grade

• Ella Enchanted by Gail Carson Levine
• Bridge to Terabithia by Katherine Paterson
• Why Is This Night Different From All Other Nights? by Lemony Snicket
• Meet the Austins by Madeleine L'Engle
• A Ring of Endless Light by Madeleine L'Engle
•  A House Like a Lotus by Madeleine L'Engle
• Alanna: The First Adventure by Tamora Pierce
• Sandry's Book by Tamora Pierce
• Wonder by R.J. Palacio
• Lyra's Oxford by Philip Pullman (I've had this for a long time but I don't think I ever read it)
• The Truth About Jellyfish by Ali Benjamin
• The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland in a Ship of Her Own Making by Catherynne M Valente
• Orbiting Jupiter by Gary D. Schmidt

 And if I have time, I might reread L'Engle's A Wind in the Door and A Swiftly Tilting Planet.

Young Adult

• More Than This by Patrick Ness
• Ender's Game by Orson Scott Card
• The Absolutely True Diary of a Part Time Indian by  Sherman Alexie
• Winter by Marissa Meyer (I don't think I'm going to bother to read Fairest)
• UnWholly by Neal Shusterman
• Jellicoe Road by Melina Marchetta
• The Outsiders by S.E. Hinton
• Dreams of Gods and Monsters by Laini Taylor

(And possibly: Challenger Deep by Neal Shusterman, None of the Above by I.W. Gregorio, Crown of Midnight by Sarah J. Maas, Falling into Place by Amy Zhang, and/or more of the Unwind books.)


Adult/Literary Fiction/Classics 

• Going After Cacciato by Tim O'Brien
• The October Country by Ray Bradbury
• A collection of George Orwell essays
• The Celebrated Jumping Frong and Other Stories by Mark Twain
• A Clockwork Orange by Anthony Burgess
• The Sign of Four by Arthur Conan Doyle
• Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman
• Beloved by Toni Morrison
• The Martian by Andy Weir
• Hogfather by Terry Pratchett

 Nonfiction/Other 

• Furiously Happy by Jenny Lawson
• Homage to Catalonia by George Orwell
•  Hyperbole and a Half by Allie Brosh

Twitter

So, I made a Twitter, which was something I had wanted to do for a while to follow authors and other book people, but I wasn't sure if I would ever be able to condense my thoughts to 140 characters. Turns out, I might enjoy it.

I Crawl Through It by A.S. King: A Rather Personal Review

There are so many reviews whose writers didn't "get" this book, so let me tell you: I got it. In context, I didn't find it all that strange, and it just made sense to me. (I'm not sure what that says about me.) Some of the reasons why I connected are maybe too personal to divulge. Some of my delightful reading experience is just A.S. King's knack for pulling me into a book so it is the only thing I can think about for a while...but this one I think I'm going to be thinking about for a long, long time.

A plot summary is somewhat pointless, but I'll try: this is a surrealist YA novel about buried internal trauma and external pressures and how not facing these problems never work. Two academically gifted teens fly away in an invisible helicopter to try to escape. A victim of date rape swallows herself. A victim of physical abuse tells lies that make her hair grow longer to try to fit in when she is really being abused at home. Everyone is worried about what others think and how they fit in. And someone keeps making repeated bomb threats to the standardized test-addled school, but the students also feel like they're ticking time bombs.

Of course, I Crawl Through It isn't for everyone. It is certainly weird, but I also didn't find it TOO weird, although I am partial to experimental . There is quite a bit of semblance of the real world and plot and character arcs are present as outlined above; none of it felt random to me in context. (Again, I'm not sure what it says about me that I was not at all concerned about, say, independently talking scars.) Most of all, the novel swallowed me up. I didn't feel distanced from it, like I felt distanced from the Vonnegut I read. I read it over a period of less than 30 hours because it wouldn't let me go.

Because I've felt like exploding, too. I've wanted to build an invisible helicopter and fly away. I've had that panic when the letters (aka multiple choice answers to a standardized test) are not correct. I've been concerned about how others perceive me and where I fit in, or if I fit in at all. Maybe sometimes I've even wanted to swallow myself, for different reasons. And so when I got to the part when the individuals on the island (that the helicopter takes the two characters to) rattle off their universities and majors (which were thankfully not all STEM; a stereotype I hate), I almost started crying, because it rang so true.

Plus, there's this quote:

"Because nothing is perfect. Perfect is a myth. I want you to remember this. Perfect is a boldfaced lie. It's a ham sandwich without ham. It's a blue sky on Mondays when it rains on Wednesdays."

And also in the acknowledgments (which also includes the amusing sentence: "Andrea Spooner, please edit this sentence so it somehow conveys the full appreciation I have for your trust."):

"Students readers, thank you for reading. Thank you for writing to me. Thank you for being you. You are not ovals. You are not letters. You are human beings, and every time someone rolls their eyes at you because they think your opinion doesn't count, picture me giving them the finger."

It's a quick read. It may be only a glimpse, but it's powerful. It isn't for everyone, and I'm not even sure I would recommend it to others. But I think it's an experience I think I should share, in the spirit of sharing personal relationships with stories that are in themselves a very personal exploration for the author. That's where the real power and influence of literature resides. Not in a Goodreads consensus, but in reaching the needs of readers, even if it isn't everyone who picks it up.

Goodbye Stranger by Rebecca Stead: A New Favorite

As this was an intensely personal book for me, it warrants quite a personal review.

I believe I first discovered Rebecca Stead's Newbery Medal Winner, When You Reach Me, somewhere between sixth and seventh grade. I had come across its Wikipedia page and saw that it dealt with some time travel theories that even at that age I was intrigued by, thanks to a book on Harry Potter I read (specifically, about the Time Turner and whether they really changed anything), and so I had to read it. Like Harry Potter (the storytelling of which I was quite obsessed with at the time), it had a well-crafted story where everything falls into place, and I loved it. I convinced two of my friends to read it, I went out and bought it, and I read it two or three times within a year. (I would digress more, but we're here to talk about Goodbye Stranger.) And now, I've been increasingly interested in writing middle grade realistic fiction recently, and a few months ago I read Stead's other realistic novel, Liar & Spy, which took me by surprise by the end and I did love it, but I did not have that personal connection and admiration as I had with When You Reach Me. Nevertheless, Stead became one of my favorite authors and an inspiration.

I discovered the upcoming existence of Goodbye Stranger back in January or February and was immediately excited. Friendship? Love? Middle School? Yes, please.

And I was not disappointed. In fact, this may have somehow exceeded my extremely high expectations...right now, I think I love it a little bit more than When You Reach Me, if only because of more personal connections.

Goodbye Stranger follows multiple interlocking storylines. The main one, written in third person limited, is about three seventh grade girls: Bridge (our POV, so to speak), who survived a severe accident when she was younger that left her wondering what her purpose is for living as she tries to figure out her life; Tab, who begins to get involved in feminism and human rights; and Emily, who has developed faster than the other two and is attracting the attention of older girls and boys. They have been best friends for several years and made a pact to never fight, but now they are beginning to take different paths. Meanwhile, Sherm's grandfather left his grandmother after fifty years and Sherm writes letters to him that he never sends, in the midst of forming a close bond with Bridge. And on Valentine's Day, an unnamed girl skips school and reflects upon her friendships that have become toxic; and while this is strange at first because it is written in second person and seems tangentially related, it does match up with the main storyline (and I'm a teensy bit proud of figuring out how before it was revealed), and little details were woven throughout.

It is a complex book, filled with small but important moments, but I did not find it particularly hard to understand. That said, it is subtle, often stating its meanings with metaphors or questions or brief thoughts from the characters, and this works because it's practically about the complexity we begin to see around us as we grow up and our confusion and questions as we wade through them. To be brief, this is something I relate to strongly and it's largely how I view the world. All the characters make some mistakes and do things they regret, but that's part of growing up and ultimately what they did do made them stronger. No one is chiefly good or bad, whether they are adults or kids, parents or teachers, boys or girls. Even if the school administration has some rules that the characters question, there are teachers who question them as well. Friendships are not always pleasant, but not all need to be broken off either.

Bridge isn't sure what the distinction between friendship and something more is--and if it really exists. And oh man, I related to her feelings about this so much. I was never sure either, but I did experience what she does with Sherm: how she looks for him when they might be in the same room, how the time she spends with him takes on a new weight, how she's worried that kissing might ruin any prior platonic relationship they had... It was something so touching and so relatable and I couldn't help but love the little insights into how this young teenager viewed the world.

I wish I had this book in middle school. Not necessarily because my friends were having the same problem, but because in seventh and eighth grade I was enjoying the middle grade sci-fi/fantasy series I read less and less. (Lord of the Rings, which I read about the beginning of seventh grade, was my last love in that department.)  It would not be until my freshman year of high school that I would discover I wanted character-based stories I could relate to, even if the situations of the characters did not appear to be similar to mine at all. But in middle school I didn't know my way around literary fiction/classics and preferred not to read much adult content, and the romance kept me out of the YA titles I saw (which were probably all series as well, because they were the most popular). The Giver and When You Reach Me were great, but I struggled to find much in the middle grade department...and admittedly, I didn't know what I was looking for, either. Goodbye Stranger is middle grade, but it bridges that much-needed gap between middle grade and YA, where the characters are in their early teens and dealing with more mature issues. And this is an age group sorely missing from bookshelves that is so important, and that's something I am inspired to explore in my own writing.

Furthermore, Stead incorporates texting and social media that are such a large part of adolescent communication--and not in a negative way, either. Plus, it's vague enough that it won't be dated in a few years or gets the mechanics of the website wrong; the pages the girls look at might have been interpreted as Facebook a few years ago, but now they can easily be Instagram. Em's storyline does not preach, either, instead presenting the conflicting feelings involved and the consequences happen, but not necessarily should happen. There are some really great points made throughout, and as much as Bridge and Em are wary of Tab repeating dogma from her teacher, they end up reaching some feminist conclusions on their own. I've admitted my uncomfortable relationship with novels considered feminist (see: here), and I think a lot of that was because they weren't too subtle and presented a situation that was just too simple, which made me find holes and parts I disagreed with. Goodbye Stranger is the opposite. (I feel like I should apologize again, but...look, it's just a lot closer to how I view the world and what I like.)

Aside from being complex, the relationships in this novel are so strong. Bridge, Em, and Tab do have their tough moments and disagreements, but they are quick to defend each other, and be there for each other, and just unabashedly love each other. It was so touching and beautiful, especially when it is common to find, in both stories and real life, girls who easily turn on each other. The book doesn't completely live in Bridge, Tab, and Em's flawed utopia, however; it acknowledges that there are girls who hurt other girls, too. (Quite a bit like the little world I lived in with my friends and what I observed from others during middle school.) Meanwhile, the bonds within families, between teachers and students, and between Sherm and Bridge are all strong albeit different.

My final stand-out element in Goodbye Stranger is the setting: New York City (specifically Manhattan, I believe). Stead is a native of the area and still lives there, and she captures the atmosphere perfectly. My father is from Brooklyn and I've spent plenty of time in residential New York (though admittedly I've only been to Manhattan twice), and so much of the setting rang authentic. Most importantly, and an improvement upon her previous novels, Goodbye Stranger is diverse. Bridge's father is Armenian-American (and she isn't whitewashed on the cover!!), Tab's parents are Indian and first immigrated to France before they arrived in New York, and Sherm's grandparents are Italian. (Like Sherm, my dad's side of the family is Italian, though I never got to meet my Nonno and Nonna passed away when I was very young. But I loved the little references to the food! So true.) Elements of their cultures appear because it's a part of their lives--and indeed, a part of New York City as a whole, because if you've been there then you know how much of a blend of cultures it is.

Goodbye Stranger is a book I immediately wanted to reread--not because I felt like I had missed something, but because I loved it so much. For the first time, honestly, I want to buy those little sticky-note tabs to mark all of my favorite passages (annotating a hardcover just feels wrong!). It's definitely going to be something I'll cherish for years to come and it's such a wonderful surprise that it even exceeded my very high expectations.

Grasshopper Jungle, Andrew Smith, and the Struggle of Less-Than-Positive Reviews

Okay, so, I had been especially avoiding reading an Andrew Smith book after everything that went down a few months ago (by the way, I like that article, it's pretty comprehensive and unbiased about it). But I kept eying Grasshopper Jungle with curiosity. Sure, I'd heard better things about 100 Sideways Miles, despite the fact that one got less publicity/awards/etc. But accidentally causing the end of the world with giant praying mantises? That sounds like something I'd really get a kick out of.

But, um, I didn't.

And that brings me to what I want to talk about first before I delve into everything I want to explore about the book: negative opinions. I'm not really a fan of them. Well, actually, I do enjoy reading criticism of things I either don't like or haven't read yet and am not sure if I'll like. But mostly, I like hearing why books and other stories are important to people, and even if there's something I didn't really enjoy or thought was meh, I love reading about how it meant something to others.

Reviews of books I like are pretty easy. And even when there were a handful of books a year ago that I was expecting to like but didn't, I was confident about saying that. Usually, I felt very mixed and could understand why other liked it, but I knew there was something not for me (usually romance). The thing is, it's fairly easy to tell when you are not enjoying a book, but when you don't you are expected to justify that. And often, that is what I feel nervous about.

What makes me question my validity on this particular review is that a large part of what I didn't enjoy was on sort of ideological terms and, I suppose, I'm possibly "doing it wrong." I'm also not very comfortable discussing ideology because as far as I'm concerned, I'm still cooking. There's things I'd like to learn before making any sort of statement.

The first review of this sort was The Disreputable History of Frankie Landau-Banks, which I had read a few months before blogging regularly and I wrote some general comments when I rated the book on Goodreads when I revived my old account. The book was not for me in some ways which contributed to the way I felt about it, but I had some gripes with it as well. It wasn't until someone my age who I followed on the site read the book and had a similar reaction that I tried to write a bit more and posted it here, although I've since reverted it to draft form because again, I'm afraid of being wrong. Basically, despite all the praise for the book being feminist, there were a few things the main character said that felt less than so, and the conflict seemed so inconsequential because it was so privileged. (I also took some personal offense to how she described her roommate's steady boyfriend--the only guy in the book who isn't a jerk--as sweet but not sexually attractive. But like the rest of this, here isn't the place to explain.)

The second not-too-positive review was Glory O'Brien's History of the Future by A.S. King, one of my favorite authors who also happens to be very good friends with Andrew Smith, another thing making me feel guilty (or possibly hypocritical?) about this post right here. This review I posted after some deliberation, but again I'm shaky in how I feel about it, calling the post "rambles" and deciding not to cross-post it to my Tumblr where most of my traffic comes through. I didn't enjoy it nearly as much as her other work and it didn't come together for me. But I also disputed this apparently feminist book on ideological terms, because I disliked the way Glory talked about other women (something that was never really resolved), and the futuristic aspects were very far-fetched to me--and even though they weren't really meant to be the truth, I think, the amount of reviews describing it as a chilling predication that you could see happening leaves me scratching my head. So once again, was I doing this wrong? Was I betraying other women? (And I actually do like what King has to say on feminism from what I've seen, especially the idea of harmful divides like "girl book" and "boy book.")

With Grasshopper Jungle the story is almost reversed (or so it seems, because why do I feel like these things are polar?), in that I agree with the feminist narrative that this isn't a great book for women, and that bothered me. Just like the above two books bothered me despite their apparent feminist credentials (though with Glory it was more the story as a whole). So I'm fearing backlash from a whole new set of people, I suppose. That, and to be called hypocritical because there are other feminist readings of things that I don't agree with, as pointed out above and with other things I've publicly said that aren't book related. (Yes, I know feminism is ideally a discussion but there have been many interpretations over the years and I don't know exactly where mine fits. And again, things change with experience.)

And this extends across other things I love, as well, and like to write about but am sometimes afraid to. It's something I really want to work on in the future. But right now, let me be honest. Just like Andrew Smith gets praised for. (Snark activated? I think so.) And like he talks about his books and characters not wanting to be put in a box, I also don't want to be put in a box ideologically, which is something I've been struggling with for a little while, and a lot of it goes back to my "words have no meaning" philosophy as well as my general anxiety over what people think. But unlike a lot of things in life, I'm comfortable taking sides on books, as I can tell how I feel about them, and even point out shortcomings of things I enjoyed.

This was not really one of those. Granted, I was enjoying the beginning more than I expected to, but after a while it started dragging and felt like it was going nowhere. I'm not sure where exactly my opinion of this book flipped around, but for the last 150 pages or more I was in the mindset of "ugh let's just get this over with."

(Spoilers from here on out.)

First of all, I'm fine with weird things. That was actually why I wanted to read this. And it disappointed me. It takes quite a while for everything to be set in motion and once it is, the characters are fairly far removed from it, there's a lot of backstory, and the giant bugs are just literally giant bugs. (I mean, I don't know what I expected, but bugs are not particularly interesting.) Also, the novel as a whole was slow going and repetitious, and I think I would have found the backstory more entertaining if I hadn't already read 200 pages talking about similar things. I don't mind repetition as a literary device, which is also used frequently here, but this just felt like it spun its wheels. And it was especially irritating that Austin had to recount what everyone in the town tangentially related to the story was doing before something important happened; this occurred too frequently and the technique lost its value. Some of the family history sections also repeated aspects already told.

I also don't mind the "boy stuff" that is so frequently discussed throughout the novel, although it does kind of bug me that girls who so freely talk about their bodies and sexuality are less frequent to nonexistent in YA. However, I think some things were not warranted, particularly the parts about the vice president, which just seemed overly gratuitous, and again the constant talk got repetitious and lost the effect. I also find generalizations such as "all boys..." or "Polish boys..." which are frequent throughout, to be tiresome and inevitably, wrong. (I even sent some of the quotes to my boyfriend, who disagreed with them.) I mean, I understand that Austin is not supposed to be correct in everything and its part of his character to make these sweeping statements, but he also never learns that much to the contrary. Furthermore, his brother who lost his testicles and a leg in war but is still alive is offhandedly described as "ruined." I understand the fear and some of the humor of losing balls, which is actually topic that comes up a lot, but that seemed a litle disrespectful.

[On a more nitpicky note, Austin tells us about how a chemistry class concoction "looked and felt just like sperm," but that's silly because sperm is microscopic and what he's really taking about is semen. Austin also says that all the boys understood because they masturbated, but only some of the girls saw the comparison. Girls masturbating is only mentioned in passing at once, when Austin thinks about his girlfriend doing it and it turns him on. Basically, I'm just annoyed that this sort of thing is so often the case in YA.]

The best part of Grasshopper Jungle was Austin's struggle with and exploration of his sexuality, but I still found that to be disappointing. To reference that article I linked above again, which based on a quick search the only place I've seen reference this (though Twitter might be a different story), apparently Andrew Smith was on a diversity panel at a conference with many diverse author (who are generally known for writing diversity) and he said he was surprised that Grasshopper Jungle was called a "bisexual book" and that he just wrote what came to him. And honestly, I think it shows. Through the majority of the book, Austin muses on his conflicted desires for his best friend Robby, who is gay, and his girlfriend, Shann. He repeatedly says he is "confused" and fantasizes about threesomes; I don't think these are done as distastefully as they could have been, but I do know that two negative stereotypes about bisexual people are that they are "just confused" or want/should be invited to threesomes. It turns out, just 50 pages from the end of the book, that he has known about the word "bisexual" all along, but he says he's not sure if that's right and he never really confronts it again. At the end, he tells us that he just wants to remain "confused." In other words, he never comes to terms with his identity, which I know is a huge comforting step for LGBT people. I am quite conflicted over this subplot. [An update: When I first published this post, I hadn't come to complete terms with the fact that I'm bi as well...and actually coming to terms with it and discussing it with others has made me feel a lot better. I'm not saying it's the same for everyone, but I still find that subplot very disappointing.]

And now...for the women. Or lack thereof. Aside from Shann, Austin's girlfriend, the only women who appear in the novel (including the history section) are a combination of: mothers who take Xanax (it is not known whether they need it for anxiety or anything like that; Austin tries it and remains ignorant as to its real purpose); women oogled by Austin or other men; women who need to make rules about when to shower for some reason; women having sex with men (usually described from the male POV); a woman turned into a giant praying mantis and, as the only woman, is used for procreation as well as preforming the eating-of-the-mate praying mantis function; prostitutes giving a teenage boy a blow job; an ancestor abused by her brother; an ancestor who was raped and then cheats on her husband and is promiscuous after her husband's death...and then we also learn about Wanda Mae, a sex partner of the guy who created the bug project and she actually has a hobby (water skiing)! His sperm were also defective and she moved on and married someone else (oh yeah, and she was good looking to boot and Austin suggests that's why she was on the project), but I can't help feeling she would have stayed if she had gotten pregnant. (This novel is obsessed with sperm and procreation, I swear.) Basically, all of these characters are tangential to the story and not fleshed out, especially when compared to Robby, Austin, the random people around town Austin talks about in his context-setting bits, and the historical (male) figures.

Shann also given much less to do and appeared less often than Robby in the story, and we don't know too much about her and her desires and lifestyle, despite Austin flat-out saying she's a "complex person." She seemed to genuinely like Austin for personality traits (such as how he tells stories), but although he says he's madly in love with her, he only seems to be focused on getting her to agree to sex. Aside from one little snippet, we don't know about her desires and they never have meaningful discussions about their relationship, which is fine and very teenager-y, but I really wanted to see Austin acknowledge that maybe she does want sex, or is curious, or basically anything outside of Austin's own desires in the relationship. (Like seriously, when he touches her breasts he narrates that she seemed to like he, but he thinks he likes it better. It's all about his pleasure.)

But then it gets worse. After she was initially upset because she found out that he and Robby had kissed (I can't blame her either, that is cheating), giant bug doomsday approaches and they end up having impromptu sex. It's unprotected and awkward and naturally, they both regret it without really saying that directly, though Shann does say how it hurt and she was upset he didn't use a condom. He says, in narration, that this is "unfair" because they hadn't talked about condoms that night and just did what they "needed to do." The thing is, even if she regrets their impulsive behavior that she could have done something about, it's not just her responsibility to make sure protection is used; it's also his. She had told him before that she wanted him to use a condom!

Anyway, even though Austin begins to realize how badly he's treated Robby and Shann, he doesn't get the opportunity to truly confront that. Shann winds up pregnant, prompting Austin to tell us how great his sperm is and that it produced a strong Polish boy (because of course it was a boy). Since they need to "breed" in wake of bugpocalypse anyway, Shann doesn't get much of a say about what she wants to do with the baby or with Austin. Well, presumably. Because it just jumps ahead four years, where the women hang out underground making rules about taking showers and "pouting" and Robby and Austin get to go out and have fun. Austin never brings Shann along for fun. (He also doesn't really have a relationship with either of them.) As you can probably tell after this much detail, the way Shann is treated by the narrative and the other characters is quite frustrating and almost insulting and disgusting, at least to me. She isn't allowed to participated in the same amount of adventure as the boys and her own feelings are hardly taken into account. Added together with the way all of the female characters are practically nonexistent or cast aside, it did not sit well with me.

To cap it all off, there is this quote very near the end: "All boys build roads that crisscross and carry us away." Previously, these roads referred to the various (male-centered) storylines that intertwined, related to Austin's historical outlook. So basically...it's the men tha m

And just to be clear, I don't think that Smith himself thinks of the world this way or treats anyone badly. I just think he didn't realize what he was doing. Some women and girls might enjoy his work, but personally I found it very off-putting.

Top Ten Tuesday: Last Ten Books That Came Into My Possession

Top Ten Tuesday was created by The Broke and the Bookish. This week's topic is the Last Ten Books That Came Into My Possession. This will include print books, ebooks, and library books.

I have actually acquired quite a few books recently, but I am going to eliminate reference books/books for school and books that I've already read (as I gathered a couple of Bradburys for my collection). This list will be in descending order, with the most recent first.

1. A Darker Shade of Magic by V.E. Schwab: I have not yet read Vicious (which I have owned only for a little while), but I've been snooping around Schwab's vlogs and blog posts for writerly advice and inspiration and I definitely admire her. What made me pick up this book now was my recent obsession with enjoyment of the TV series Fringe, which like this book has parallel universes, and so it seemed appropriate even if the novel is more fantasy-oriented. (As a kid I also loved Philip Pullman's His Dark Materials trilogy, so channeling those vibes is also welcome.)

2. Midwinterblood by Marcus Sedgwick: I picked this up at a discounted bookstore on a whim (along with those Bradburys I mentioned), though it was somewhere on my Goodreads TBR list. It won the Printz and I've only seen positive reviews, though I haven't really gotten a clear picture of what it's about! Nevertheless, Sedgwick is an interesting writer (I enjoyed most of the stories in The Ghosts of Heaven, his most recent release) with his own style and I'm intrigued.

3. The Raven Boys by Maggie Stiefvater: I picked this up from the library because I can't contain my curiosity any longer. Something about it just seems mysterious and magical and unique, and I really hope I'm not disappointed because I rarely feel compelled to continue series nowadays and I'd like to add one more to the list.

4. I'll Give You the Sun by Jandy Nelson: Another library book and my current read. I was also too curious and was looking for a better LGBT read than Grasshopper Jungle.

5. Peter Pan by J.M. Barrie: I got the gorgeous new Barnes and Noble Children's Classic edition and I love it and I hope I love the story just as much. I'm very interested in magical children's stories, so it seems to be for me.

6. Magonia by Maria Dahvana Headley: The reason I went to B&N was to pick this up because I had a coupon. It's a relatively new release and has intrigued me, because it seems different and Neil Gaiman-esque. Seemed like something for me.

7. Bradbury Stories by Ray Bradbury: The ebook version of this was on sale and so I had to get it. It's 100 short stories that Bradbury wrote--some I've read before, some I haven't, but it sounds like a great thing to read gradually.

8. Grasshopper Jungle by Andrew Smith: I couldn't help my curiosity about this accidental-end-of-the-world-with-giant-praying-mantises story, so I checked it out from the library. Unfortunately I ended up not liking it very much, especially as it went on. I am currently polishing my (lengthily and somewhat personal) review.

9. Misery by Stephen King: This was pretty cheap on Kindle and so I snagged it. I had gotten The Shining not too far before and I''m looking to get into King in the future. This one I've heard good things about recently, and my parents also recommended it. (They were pretty big fans

10. Glory O'Brien's History of the Future by A.S. King: While I own several of her books and really enjoyed them, I wasn't sure if this one would be for me, so I picked it up from the library. It was a good choice because I didn't enjoy it very much.

Top Ten Tuesday: Ten Hyped Books I've Never Read

Top Ten Tuesday was created by The Broke and the Bookish. This week's topic is the Top Ten Books I've Never Read.

This is a fairly easy one for me actually, as I often find hyped books not to my taste, or after a while of waiting and thinking I become not interested anymore. So, I am going to try to keep this to books that I think I may actually never read. These are not in any particular order.

1. Eleanor & Park by Rainbow Rowell: This has been a huge hit and at first it seemed like something I would enjoy, and to some extent I still think I may read it at some point just out of sheer curiosity. The original reason why I avoided it was because it looked like it wouldn't end happily and that wasn't really something I wanted to see at that time. (Not that I always want happy endings--quite the contrary--but I'm not much of a fan of star-crossed lovers.) I've also read about the less-than-stellar portrayals of the nonwhite characters.

2. The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky: Unless I'm doing a project on YA lit history (which I have considered doing a blog for at some point in the future, though I'm not so sure now), I don't feel any compulsion to read it. I may have liked it when I was younger, but now I have the suspicion I'll feel like I'm missing something if I do read it.

3. The Son of Neptune and anything else after its publication aside from Throne of Fire (which I already read) by Rick Riordan: I have absolutely nothing against Riordan; I actually think his books are great for teaching kids about mythology. (They certainly are the main reason I remember what I do about it.) I was the right age when Percy Jackson was popular and The Lost Hero was published, and I also read the first two Kane Chronicles Egyptian mythology books, but I fell behind and never read The Son of Neptune or anything after it. I hear they're great, but it's too much of a commitment for me and honestly I was not particularly in love with the characters and plots I did read; after a while, it felt a little formulaic and repetitive.

4. If I Stay by Gayle Foreman: When this was originally popular, it wasn't the sort of book I read. Now that I'm into more serious contemporary novels I felt like I should give it a go, but I sort of lost interest again. Similar to E&P, it looked a little bit too sad and again, I was never particularly interested to begin with. (But again, I might eventually pick this up out of curiosity.)

5. Crown of Midnight by Sarah J. Mass: The original plan would be to read at least this far into the series because everyone in their mother says that this second book is better than Throne of Glass in every way. I do like the idea of a long fantasy series and I did like the way the direction it seemed like the series was going, but I can't say I was really into the world or the characters and so I don't see how reading more would be rewarding for me. There are other series I'm more interested in, anyway.

6. Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen: I wasn't a huge fan of Pride and Prejudice and while I'm not going to write off Austen completely, every other book she wrote interests me more than this one.

7. Red Queen by Victoria Aveyard: One of this year's most hyped YA books. I was uninterested in this anyway, but I've heard it feels like a rehearsal of a lot of frequently used YA fantasy tropes, and considering that's how I feel about a lot of YA series I attempt to read, I don't have any desire to read this.

8. Anything after City of Glass by Cassandra Clare (including The Infernal Devices trilogy): While I initially liked The Mortal Instruments, by the time I got to the third book I discovered they were really not for me. I can understand why it appeals to others, but I wasn't a fan of the characters and where the story chose to focus and how it dealt with its content.

9. The Selection series by Kiera Cass: I've heard these are addicting though light, but they don't seem to be for me.

10. Anything by Colleen Hover: I'm not saying that she won't publish something in the future that I'll be interested in, but based on what she has written so far, it doesn't seem to be for me. I've never read New Adult but I'm not much of a fan of romance and from what I've read these have character/relationship dynamics I don't much care for or relate to.