Review: WALK ON EARTH A STRANGER by Rae Carson

It’s no secret that I loved Rae Carson’s GIRL OF FIRE AND THORNS trilogy, so when I heard she was beginning a new fantasy trilogy — a historical fantasy, set during the California gold rush — my fingers immediately began itching for a copy. Fortunately, I had a friend who generously offered to loan me her ARC (once she was finished reading, of course — there is generous, and then there’s just plain ridiculous), so I was able to read WALK ON EARTH A STRANGER a few months early.

And guys, I didn’t even think it was possible, but if the first book is anything to go by, I think the Gold Seer Trilogy may be even better than GIRL OF FIRE AND THORNS.

I know. Take a moment.

The Plot (from Goodreads):

Lee Westfall has a secret. She can sense the presence of gold in the world around her. Veins deep beneath the earth, pebbles in the river, nuggets dug up from the forest floor. The buzz of gold means warmth and life and home—until everything is ripped away by a man who wants to control her. Left with nothing, Lee disguises herself as a boy and takes to the trail across the country. Gold was discovered in California, and where else could such a magical girl find herself, find safety?

Walk on Earth a Stranger, the first book in this new trilogy, introduces—as only Rae Carson can—a strong heroine, a perilous road, a fantastical twist, and a slow-burning romance. Includes a map and author’s note on historical research.

My Thoughts:

Before I dig into my thoughts on the first book in Rae Carson’s new Gold Seer Trilogy, let’s discuss genre for a minute. While WALK ON EARTH A STRANGER is being marketed as a fantasy, and while the opening chapter firmly establishes Leah Westfall’s ability to magically sense the presence of gold, once you move past the events that set Leah off on her cross-country journey, I was surprised to find that the majority of the book reads like a straight historical. Who knows, maybe future installments in the series will play up the magic more, but going off of just this first book, it feels a bit more accurate to call WOEAS historical fiction with some magical realism elements, rather than a fantasy

That said, even though I’d been prepared for a fantasy, I was not disappointed in the slightest to find magic missing from the majority of WOEAS. Leah — who starts going by “Lee” early in the book, when she disguises herself as a boy — is an utterly compelling narrator, and Carson’s prose is simultaneously lush and gritty, masterfully evoking the visuals and sounds and smells of a late-1800s America. The staggering amount of research that must have gone into this novel is evident on every page, immersing the reader in the endlessly beautiful — yet unforgivingly harsh — American frontier.

Though the ensemble cast seems kind of sprawling at first, Carson skillfully manages to develop her characters into fully three-dimensional people after surprisingly little page time. It didn’t take long before I was rooting not just for Leah, but for the families and individuals traveling alongside her. I won’t name names, because some characters have pretty impressive arcs (and some, um, die), but suffice it to say, Leah isn’t the only one who ends the book loving these people like family.

For those of us who grew up playing the video game Oregon Trail, Leah’s journey will come with a distinct sense of nostalgia. While (spoiler alert) Leah never hunkers down for days on end to shoot squirrels, she, along with her fellow travelers, must ford rivers, maneuver covered wagons, manage sick oxen, and battle disease (although not quite as much dysentery as I remember from my Oregon Trail days). Though the wagon train’s trek to California moves agonizingly slowly, the plot never does. Carson is a master of infusing her story with moment-to-moment tension, and even when the characters were sitting still, I found myself flying through the pages.

As with Carson’s first series, [what I suspect will be] the main romantic subplot doesn’t get much exploration in this first book. While there are hints, this is a story of survival and endurance, not romance. However, as a fan of the slow burn, I thoroughly enjoyed the foundations that were so thoughtfully laid in this book, and I think that even readers who prefer a lot of swoon in their fiction will find that, while sparse, there are enough tidbits in this book to carry them through to the next one.

Overall, I found WALK ON EARTH A STRANGER to be a beautiful, vivid, and compulsively readable portrayal of life in Gold Rush-era America, with just a dash of magic. I unequivocally loved it. Whether you are a lover of fantasy or historicals or simply a good story well told, I think you’ll love it, too.

Review: Everything I Never Told You by Celeste Ng

Recently I was approached with the opportunity to interview Celeste Ng, debut author of Everything I Never Told You, for YABC (look for that interview to post next month). I’d actually decided to take a hiatus from reading YA for a little while — I’ve been nitpicking every YA book I’ve read recently, which I think has far more to do with me hitting a saturation point than the books themselves — and was preparing to decline for that reason, but then I read the summary. And I couldn’t say no.

Not because it was a family drama surrounding a dead kid, but because it was a family drama about a Chinese-American father, a white mother, and their mixed-race kids. Which is my family. And while I’ve never been a person that needs to see myself in a story to relate to it, I was curious to see if my experience would be reflected in this book. There simply aren’t that many books out there with Chinese characters, especially books with Chinese characters that are not about being Chinese. So I was intrigued. How would she pull it off? Would she pull it off?

Let’s discuss.

(Also, before we get to my review, I want to mention that after reading this, I don’t believe this book is YA. I assumed it would be, since I was reading it for YABC, but while there are indeed some teen characters, I feel this book is more accurately described as adult literary fiction with crossover appeal.)

The Plot (from Goodreads):

Lydia is dead. But they don’t know this yet . . . So begins this debut novel about a mixed-race family living in 1970s Ohio and the tragedy that will either be their undoing or their salvation. Lydia is the favorite child of Marilyn and James Lee; their middle daughter, a girl who inherited her mother’s bright blue eyes and her father’s jet-black hair. Her parents are determined that Lydia will fulfill the dreams they were unable to pursue—in Marilyn’s case that her daughter become a doctor rather than a homemaker, in James’s case that Lydia be popular at school, a girl with a busy social life and the center of every party.

When Lydia’s body is found in the local lake, the delicate balancing act that has been keeping the Lee family together tumbles into chaos, forcing them to confront the long-kept secrets that have been slowly pulling them apart.

My Thoughts:

From its very first page, EVERYTHING I NEVER TOLD YOU utterly captivated me with its poetic, sparse prose and keen emotional insight. Each word feels carefully chosen to immerse the reader in the Lee family’s household, which seems ordinary at first — in spite of the dead girl no one has yet discovered — but as the layers peel back, we learn things are far more complicated.

I was surprised, at first, at the narration of the story. Told in the third-person, EVERYTHING I NEVER TOLD YOU strolls casually through the thoughts of its five main characters — parents James and Marilyn, and their children, Nath, Lydia, and Hannah — sometimes sticking with one character for nearly an entire chapter, other times jumping from one to another to another all within the confines of a single scene. In addition to that, the narrative also darts back and forth through time, from James’ and Marilyn’s childhoods, college years, and courtship, up through their children’s lives, all the way to and beyond Lydia’s untimely death.  One might think this head-hopping and time-leaping would be disorienting or confusing, but it isn’t. Ng juggles it all masterfully, so that instead of the story rolling out in a neat line, it unfolds like a flower, all at once and in every direction.

The characters themselves were an interesting puzzle. On the one hand, they almost felt less like people and more like concepts or symbols. Though I wouldn’t say this is necessarily a book about racism, or feminism, or parental pressure, or adultery, or sibling rivalry –all those themes are present, and important, but as an undercurrent to the story, not the story itself — there are times when it seemed as though a character was the embodiment of an issue, rather than the embodiment of a person. Normally, this would turn me off. I love a good plot, but I read for character. If the characters don’t feel like real people to me, that doesn’t usually bode well for the book.

However — and this is a huge however — in this particular case, I was all right that the characters felt a little more ambiguous, because the emotion was spot-on. While I’m not sure that James is a person one could ever know, the way he felt growing up as the only Chinese kid in an all-white school rang entirely true. I could feel my hands shake as Marilyn stepped into a physics classroom full of men, feel my stomach clench as Lydia’s grades slipped and tumbled, feel my heart sink as Nath learned how mean children can be. I had to stop reading at one point because I needed to remind myself that the family’s grief was not my own; at another, I put the book down so I could go into my sleeping daughters’ room and hug them and tell them that they were loved, because the pain the parents in the book felt at not being able to tell Lydia those things left me no other choice.

For me, if a book can make me feel emotions that raw and sharp, it trumps absolutely everything else.

I also want to talk a bit about ethnicity, and how the fact that James is Chinese and his children are mixed-race works its way into the story. As the child of a Chinese father and a white mother, I was curious to see how that aspect of the book would be handled. And while the experiences of the Lees (particularly Nath and Lydia) were not and are not my experience — partially because of the 1970s setting of the book, and partially because I was not the only not-white kid growing up — they felt authentic to me, and I could relate to much of how they thought and acted and reacted. It’s hard to put into words the sense of knowing you are different but not feeling different, of forgetting that sometimes people will look at you and see an ethnicity instead of a person. I am fortunate to have only felt this way sporadically throughout my life — for some, as it is for James in the book, I know it is constant — but EVERYTHING I NEVER TOLD YOU does an excellent job of conveying how those times felt, sometimes subtly, sometimes explicitly, as it is in life. Being Chinese — or half-Chinese, or married to a Chinese man — does not define the whole of who the Lees are, but is instead a thread woven through their being, informing every aspect of their lives, whether or not they are conscious of it.

As for the plot — the mysterious circumstances surrounding Lydia’s death, what led to them, and how the family reacts — I found it simple, but never straightforward or boring. As in real life, there are multiple forces at play here, and though the plot itself isn’t complex — a girl dies, and her family tries to make sense of her death — the real story here is in the nuance. It’s impossible, after putting down the book, to cite any one reason or cause for Lydia’s death. It’s a culmination of her whole life, of her parent’s lives, of her siblings’ lives, and all the choices and hurts and slights and misunderstandings and pressures running through each. When we finally reached the night of Lydia’s death in the narrative and everything was explained, it wasn’t the “a-ha!” moment one typically expects in a mystery, but more a quiet, “of course.” For really, this isn’t a mystery about the death of a teenage girl, but a story about a family’s complex relationships with each other. Not a line or an arc, but a web.

Ultimately, EVERYTHING I NEVER TOLD YOU is a beautifully crafted tale full of honest emotion and raw truth. Though it is quiet, the gorgeous prose and heart-wrenching story kept me riveted from the first page to the last, and will keep my thoughts spinning for some time to come.

Review: PRISONER OF NIGHT AND FOG by Anne Blankman

I received a free copy of this book from the publisher in exchange for my honest review.

So a few months ago, I joined Young Adult Books Central (have you been there? You should visit. Fantastic site) as kind of a behind-the-scenes gear-greaser. I poke around in the parts of the site that you don’t see and help it all run smoothly. My role is mostly helping the site function, not reviewing, BUT when I signed on, the incomparable MG Buehrlen (site admin) also told me I could review books for the site if and when I felt like it.

For the most part, I haven’t requested any review books from YABC. Reviewers have to jump right on reading and getting reviews posted in a timely manner, and I knew I couldn’t commit to that if I didn’t feel SUPER excited about a book. Most of my time lately has been devoted to my own writing, critiquing works-in-progress for my friends, and OH YES, SUMMER VACATION. (Parents who homeschool, HOW DO YOU DO THIS? I am in awe. These children are going to be the death of me.) I haven’t done much pleasure reading, much less pleasure reading on a deadline.

But the last batch of review books that came in contained PRISONER OF NIGHT AND FOG, and I knew I had to request it. Not only was the concept intriguing (Hitler as a main character? A member of his inner circle as the protagonist? Veeeeery eeeenteresting. *strokes metaphorical beard*), but one of my critique partners is working on a WWII manuscript, and I wanted to brush up on the genre. So I requested. And I have no regrets.

The Plot (from Goodreads):

In 1930s Munich, danger lurks behind dark corners, and secrets are buried deep within the city. But Gretchen Müller, who grew up in the National Socialist Party under the wing of her “uncle” Dolf, has been shielded from that side of society ever since her father traded his life for Dolf’s, and Gretchen is his favorite, his pet.

Uncle Dolf is none other than Adolf Hitler. And Gretchen follows his every command.

Until she meets a fearless and handsome young Jewish reporter named Daniel Cohen. Gretchen should despise Daniel, yet she can’t stop herself from listening to his story: that her father, the adored Nazi martyr, was actually murdered by an unknown comrade. She also can’t help the fierce attraction brewing between them, despite everything she’s been taught to believe about Jews.

As Gretchen investigates the very people she’s always considered friends, she must decide where her loyalties lie. Will she choose the safety of her former life as a Nazi darling, or will she dare to dig up the truth—even if it could get her and Daniel killed?

From debut author Anne Blankman comes this harrowing and evocative story about an ordinary girl faced with the extraordinary decision to give up everything she’s ever believed . . . and to trust her own heart instead.

My Thoughts:

I’m no historian by any means, but I have a deep appreciation for a well researched piece of historical fiction. Even when I know very little about a time period, I think that when an author does her homework, it shows. This is especially essential when the subject matter is one about which many readers already have formed opinions — in this case, the Nazi (National Socialist) Party and Adolf Hitler. I was excited, but a little wary, to see how Anne Blankman would approach such a delicate topic. I knew the protagonist starts the book very close to Hitler, but surely she couldn’t actually like Hitler? Surely the author wouldn’t dare paint Hitler as a nice guy who’s been horribly misunderstood?

I needn’t have worried. While, yes, protagonist Gretchen Müller is very fond of Hitler when we meet her, referring to him as Uncle Dolf, I found PRISONER OF NIGHT AND FOG very thoughtful in its approach to her beliefs and her interactions with the infamous Führer. I could see how this young, intelligent girl would have been won over by Hitler’s charisma and propaganda. It was clear a lot of care had been put into Hitler’s portrayal, and Gretchen’s perception of him, and I found it extremely believable.

It was chilling to see characters that truly seemed like good people embrace Hitler’s horrifying ideals. Some of the Nazi characters in this book were, indeed, monsters, but many were otherwise decent folk who didn’t seem to see how wrong their beliefs and actions truly were. One by one, they all turn against Gretchen when they realize she’s pulling away from the Party, in a series of events that becomes more and more terrifying as Gretchen sees how deep Hitler’s poison has sunk into the hearts of her German friends and neighbors. Watching as Gretchen slowly has the wool pulled from her eyes was both compelling and heartbreaking, especially when I considered that this story takes place before World War II, which meant opposing Hitler would only become more difficult for Gretchen.

The murder plot is exciting, but I have to admit, it wasn’t much of a mystery. The reveals that shocked Gretchen I found somewhat predictable, but I didn’t mind, because I wasn’t really reading to learn who killed Gretchen’s father. The answer was interesting — and tied brilliantly into a real historical event — but the aspect of the story that gripped me the most wasn’t the ten-year-old crime, but how Gretchen would survive once she knew the truth.

Likewise, I loved watching Gretchen’s interaction with Jewish reporter Daniel. It was fascinating to watch Gretchen grow from someone who mindlessly accepted that Jews were subhuman into someone who understood the value and humanity in all people. The love story was sweet, but much like the murder mystery, it was secondary for me. I was mostly invested for Gretchen’s internal change and growth. It’s rare to read a book where the protagonist wholeheartedly buys into the rightness of society’s harmful ideals, and then is forced to change her mind and heart completely when she is faced with the truth. I thought PRISONER OF NIGHT AND FOG handled that transformation wonderfully.

As I mentioned before, the attention to historical detail in this story is commendable. While Gretchen, Daniel, and several other important characters are fictitious, many of the characters in this book were real people, in addition to Hitler himself. Similarly, many of the events and locations referenced also were based on true historical accounts. I thought Anne Blankman’s thorough research and her thoughtful portrayal of history helped the fictional events leap off the page, and gave her story a real air of believably. I don’t think anyone should pick up a historical fiction novel expecting a 100% educational experience, but I do think PRISONER OF NIGHT AND FOG helped shed a light on a period of history that isn’t often taught in schools, and did so with a lot of care and respect to the time period. The plot of the story may be fictitious, but the backdrop was real, and I thought the balance between the two was lovely.

Overall, I found PRISONER OF NIGHT AND FOG a fascinating read, full of compelling characters and challenging questions, set in one of the most intriguing and terrifying periods of history. If you enjoy well-written, thoughtfully researched historical fiction, or simply great characters making hard choices against overwhelming odds, I highly recommend you give it a try.

Review: The Fifty-Seven Lives of Alex Wayfare by MG Buehrlen

I’m going to be honest – Sci-Fi/Fantasy has not been my thing lately. This pains me to say, because I adore those genres, and it’s absolutely not the books’ fault. It’s totally a problem with me. The book I’m trying to write (I say “trying” because I’ve rewritten the ending so many times I’ve lost count, and it is still not right) is very plot-heavy and intricate, and my poor brain is just not capable of processing the world-building that’s necessary in speculative fiction.

Contemporary. That’s all I can do. Because although contemporary fiction can still be smart and intricate, at least my brain is already familiar with the world and the laws of the universe. Plus, contemporary fiction is often focused a lot more on emotion and character than plot. I can handle emotion and character. But plot? I am up to my ears in plot. I have reached my capacity on plot. No more plot.

You’re wondering where I’m going with this, aren’t you?

ALL THIS TO SAY, I was wary about reading MG Buehrlen’s debut, THE FIFTY-SEVEN LIVES OF ALEX WAYFARE, because it is not only sci-fi, but it is the epitome of mind-bendy sci-fi, which is TIME TRAVEL SCI-FI. I didn’t know if my poor brain could handle it.

But I knew I had to at least give it a try, because MG is delightful (I haven’t met her in person — YET — but we converse often enough on Twitter that I feel like I know her. Creepy? Let’s hope not.) and because I have friends who know her and share my taste who swore up and down that her book is brilliant and I would love it. I trust these friends. And I really, really wanted to enjoy MG’s debut. So even though I was pretty sure it would break my brain (again), I gave it a shot.

The verdict? I should never have doubted. I loved it.

The Plot (from Goodreads):

For as long as 17-year-old Alex Wayfare can remember, she has had visions of the past. Visions that make her feel like she’s really on a ship bound for America, living in Jamestown during the Starving Time, or riding the original Ferris wheel at the World’s Fair.

But these brushes with history pull her from her daily life without warning, sometimes leaving her with strange lasting effects and wounds she can’t explain. Trying to excuse away the aftereffects has booked her more time in the principal’s office than in any of her classes and a permanent place at the bottom of the social hierarchy. Alex is desperate to find out what her visions mean and get rid of them.

It isn’t until she meets Porter, a stranger who knows more than should be possible about her, that she learns the truth: Her visions aren’t really visions. Alex is a Descender – capable of traveling back in time by accessing Limbo, the space between Life and Afterlife. Alex is one soul with fifty-six past lives, fifty-six histories.

Fifty-six lifetimes to explore: the prospect is irresistible to Alex, especially when the same mysterious boy with soulful blue eyes keeps showing up in each of them. But the more she descends, the more it becomes apparent that someone doesn’t want Alex to travel again. Ever.

And will stop at nothing to make this life her last.

My Thoughts:

THE FIFTY-SEVEN LIVES OF ALEX WAYFARE does all sorts of things I don’t see often in YA, and especially in this kind of intricately-plotted, genre-bending, world-building-heavy YA.

It gives our main character, Alex, an entire intact family unit, complete with parents, grandparents, and siblings, that is not dysfunctional in the slightest.

It puts at the center of the book a relationship that is in no way romantic, and a male lead who isn’t even kind of swoony (unless you are about 40+ years older than the book’s target audience, in which case 1) GOOD FOR YOU, and 2) go right ahead and swoon).

It presents three possible love interests for the main character, but at no time ever resembles a love triangle, square, hexagon, dodecahedron, or any other geometric shape. And of those three, not a single one is an obviously terrible choice.

Yet at the same time, Alex is not a She’s-All-That-esque swan-in-ugly-duckling-clothing. When she takes off her nerd glasses, she is — shockingly — still a nerd. She never becomes magically popular. She isn’t stunningly beautiful underneath her rumpled appearance. And she actually turns out to be less of a Chosen One than she originally thought.

This all brings me to the main reason I loved this book: It put characters first. A lot of time, even in good books, when there’s this many EVENTS that have to happen on the pages, writers almost seem to run out of room to develop the characters. But with ALEX WAYFARE, the thing that kept me turning pages well past my bedtime wasn’t the thrilling missions through time or the looming menace of the ever-nearing villain — though those were fun too — it was the heart in the characters. It was the fact that the characters rang true.

They reacted illogically. They made mistakes. They carried unfair prejudices. But these weren’t just quirks. They weren’t a laundry list of imperfections so that the characters could be more interesting. They gave the characters depth and history, even when I didn’t agree with them.

Take Alex herself. At one point, she tells a boy that he should know that most girls are “shallow, shallow creatures.” At first glance, a reader might be turned off by that line. That’s an awfully sweeping statement to make about half the human race, isn’t it? Isn’t she a girl? Isn’t her sister, who she adores, also a girl? Why does Alex think she’s such a special snowflake?

But then you realize, Alex literally has no friends. Her only encounters with other girls are with the couple popular girls at school who bully her and gave her an ugly nickname. Everyone else seems to pretty much ignore her. She’s under the impression that the entire school is constantly whispering about her, but in reality, they’re probably not. It’s just her perception of reality. As a result, she closes herself off and tries not to interact with anyone. Ever. So of course she thinks all girls are awful. Her only encounters with them have been negative, and as a coping mechanism, she’s made sure that the only way she will continue to have contact with girls is if they seek her out. And who seeks her out? The bullies.

Vicious cycle.

This isn’t the only example where Alex, or the other characters, rang true in their shortcomings. It’s just one that stood out, because I remember going through a whole circuit of reactions when I read that line. Plus it’s toward the end of the book, so it’s fresh in my memory. I liked that MG Buehrlen didn’t shy away from the less appealing aspects of her characters, but instead explored them and allowed me to see why they’d come to think or act the ways they did. In addition to being a bit prejudiced against her own gender, Alex is impulsive, naive, and kind of shockingly short-sighted at times.

But then these moments of weakness are balanced with strengths. Alex is also clever, inventive, brave, caring, and loyal. Her good points really do outweigh the bad, and I thoroughly enjoyed watching her develop and mature throughout the story. And she’s not the only one. I loved her family, and how involved they all were in each other’s lives. I loved Porter, her middle-aged mentor who teaches her about herself. And I loved Blue, the boy she meets over and over again in each of her lives, and Jensen, the boy on whom she blames her social misfit status.

Outside of the characters, though, I loved the story itself. I loved the creative spin on a reincarnation story, and how each journey into Alex’s past highlighted a different point in history. The narrative weaves seamlessly through different eras, jumping from the modern day to Prohibition-era Chicago to a train heist in the Wild West. It kept me constantly on my toes, wondering where I’d be transported to next, and opened the door to endless possibilities in the future. And I followed the logic of the time travel pretty easily, with most of my questions being answered just a few pages after I asked them.

All in all, I loved the timey-wimey goodness that is THE FIFTY-SEVEN LIVES OF ALEX WAYFARE. It was a fun, energetic  romp through history with characters I enjoyed following on their various (mis)adventures. It helped me rediscover my love of the genre, and made me excited for what’s to come in the series. It ends on a bit of a cliffhanger, and when I turned the final page, I was left simultaneously satisfied and yearning for the next chapter in Alex’s story. If you’re a fan of time travel and adventure and history and heart, I highly recommend this one.

Nutshell Film Reviews: Ender’s Game, The Book Thief, Catching Fire

I have been a bad blogger lately. I’ve been reading good books and seeing good movies, yet my reviews are few and far between. I blame this on the holidays, and writing, and critiquing, and children, and travel, and the Internet, and Netflix, and queso. Since none of these things are going away any time soon (*whispers I love you queso*) I figure it’s best not to stress about it, and to give you what reviews I can, when I can.

Because really, I know you’re all waiting with bated breath to hear what I think before you decide what book or movie to see next. Right?

(And as a general reminder, reviews from me are also a bit sporadic because I only review what I can also recommend. So I’m reading more books than I’m writing about. Thankfully not a lot more — since life is too short to read bad books — but still, more.)

Anywho, I had lofty plans to write detailed reviews on each of the book-to-film adaptations I’ve seen in the theaters recently, but alas, I just don’t think that’s going to happen. So instead, you’re going to get three mini-reviews, and you’re going to like it.

Okay, maybe you won’t like it. That’s really not up to me. Sorry, got a bit presumptuous there.

The three films I’m going to be talking about are vastly different, their only common denominator that they are all based on books written for young adults, and that they are all books I really enjoyed. They are Ender’s Game (novel by Orson Scott Card), The Book Thief (novel by Markus Zusak), and Catching Fire (novel by Suzanne Collins).

Before I get into the individual reviews, let me mention a few of my opinions that apply to all three movies. First, I found the casting brilliant in all of them (with a couple very minor exceptions) and the acting superb. Even when an actor didn’t look like how I pictured a character from the book, their embodiment of their character more than made up for it. I tend to be pretty forgiving when it comes to actors physically matching character descriptions anyway — to me, the feel of a character is far more important than whether they have the “correct” hair or eye color — but even if I was more of a physical purist, I think I could have forgiven most of the times when casting drifted significantly from the way a character was described in the book, simply because the actor was the character.

I also thought the effects in each film were fabulous. Granted, they were certainly more noticeable in Ender’s space-and-explosions setting than in the historical town of The Book Thief, but none of them had effects that made me roll my eyes or felt at all cheesy. The effects were well-integrated and appropriate, and really helped bring each world to life.

Also, each film had a fantastic score. I’m a sucker for a good soundtrack, and I thought all three of these soundtracks perfectly accompanied the stories being told. Book Thief‘s was simple and haunting, Ender‘s was tense and epic, and Catching Fire’s seamlessly wove between the over-the-top anthems of the Capitol, and the subtler, more intimate melodies of the Districts. All three scores were beautiful, and I’ve already added Ender to my writing playlist.

Okay. With that out of the way, let’s talk about the films themselves.

Ender’s Game

I really, really enjoyed this film adaptation, but after talking to other friends who have seen it who have and have not read the book, I’m willing to admit that it’s possible that this film will appeal far more to those who come into the movie already familiar with the story. The movie made some significant changes to the book, streamlining the complex and nuanced narrative down to its core elements to fit into a 2-hour film, and either truncates or eliminates many of the subplots that give the story its texture. So while I don’t think the movie would have confused someone new to the story, it may not have resonated as much with them. Most of Ender’s internal struggle as he adjusts to Battle School is only hinted at, and we lose almost all of the back story of him and his siblings, which sheds significantly more light on his character. The Mind Game that Ender plays, through which his commanding officers are psychologically evaluating him, also only gets a brief scene, as opposed to being a common thread running all throughout the story. In addition, I could have used at least one or two more Battle Room sequences, where Ender is honing his command style, because that would have really helped the audience understand how his brain works, and why the adults in the movie have so much faith in him. (Plus, Battle Room sequences were my favorite parts of the book and the movie, so I could have happily sat through another half hour of them at least.)

That said, there were other changes I was totally fine with. For example, Book!Ender is probably a good 5+ years younger than Movie!Ender, and this pretty much applies across the board to all the kids. Truthfully, if they’d kept the characters elementary-aged prodigies like they are in the book, it would have been nearly impossible to find child actors who could portray them accurately. They also changed the gender/race of several of the adult characters, and/or combined multiple characters into one, and I thought it worked really well. Also, they updated the graphics Ender and his jeesh see on their displays (the book came out in the ’80s, and as such, has ’80s-era graphics notions), for which I was highly grateful.

The one casting decision I was a little torn on was the character of Bonzo Madrid. The actor was a perfect Bonzo — seriously, I can’t imagine anyone playing his personality better — but by casting a kid who was smaller than Ender, it didn’t seem like quite so much of a David-and-Goliath situation, and therefore didn’t evoke the same kind of tension that their relationship evokes in the book.

However, I still thought Ender’s Game was a great adaptation of one of my favorite books, and that even though it at times felt a bit rushed, it’s still a wonderful story that was amazing to see brought to life on the big screen. If you’re a fan of the book, try to catch it in theaters. If not, it’s worth checking out on Redbox or Netflix in a few months.

The Book Thief

I spent this entire movie in awe of how perfectly it captured the spirit of the book. Even the feel of the book — the drifting, hazy quality that comes from having Death as the narrator — translated to the film. I know I already mentioned that I was a fan of the casting, but I need to give a special shout-out to Sophie Nélisse, who plays Liesel. She was absolutely stunning in the role, and I hope to see her in many, many more films in the future.

There were some minor changes and a few parts missing from the book, but I didn’t miss any of them as I was watching. It was only after leaving the theater and discussing it further that I realized changes had been made. The experience of watching the movie was riveting and immersive, and I was moved to tears over and over (seriously, bring tissues). Each moment of the film felt purposeful and thoughtful, and I have to believe that the writer, director, and cast must be devoted fans of the book to have translated its essence to film so beautifully.

While some events of the book were streamlined or skipped, the movie never felt rushed. The plot was extremely easy to follow, and each of the characters developed wonderfully well. I went to see the film with a friend who had never read the book, and she also adored the movie, so while I still absolutely recommend everyone reads the book, it’s not a prerequisite to enjoy the film.

Bottom line, I thought The Book Thief was a thoughtful, moving, beautiful film that will both satisfy fans of the book and enthrall new fans. It’s adapted from a YA novel, but I believe it will appeal to viewers of all ages, from early teens to great-grandparents. And while it tells about one of the darkest times in human history, it does so in a manner that is sensitive and quietly uplifting without becoming saccharine. It recently opened in wide release, so go look up showtimes and get thee to a theater.

And again. Tissues. I cannot stress this enough.

Catching Fire

I’m going to preface this with the obvious: Catching Fire is a sequel to The Hunger Games, so if you haven’t seen the first one, you should probably do so before you see the second.

THAT SAID! If you saw the first one and weren’t pleased with the deviations from the book, or the extensive use of shaky cam, this one is so much better. (Disclaimer: I really liked the first Hunger Games movie, but I can see why some didn’t.) And if you did like the first movie, prepare to love the sequel.

Catching Fire takes all the best parts of The Hunger Games — the excellent cast, the glorious and appalling extravagance of the Capitol, the musical themes, the visceral sense of the Games — and takes them up a notch, in addition to fixing most of the problems with the first film. Gone is the nausea-inducing shaky cam, the significant changes from the book for the sake of action or shock value.

This film relies far less on putting the viewer in the Games, and more on making the viewer feel Katniss’ and Peeta’s gamut of emotions as they are flung back into a fight for survival. While the first film definitely wrung a few tears from me, I was a mess for most of Catching Fire. Secondary characters that I enjoyed in the first movie — Haymitch, Effie, Cinna — are fleshed out and humanized in this one, and we also are introduced to two of my favorite series characters, Finnick Odair and Johanna Mason.

Again, I know I already mentioned casting, but I need to give a shout-out to Sam Claflin and Jena Malone, who portrayed Finnick and Johanna, respectively, because they were perfect. Neither of them is who I pictured when reading the books, but I can’t imagine anyone doing more justice to the characters. Their scenes were my favorites in a movie full of amazing moments (which is doubly saying something, since Peeta Mellark is one of my favorite fictional characters ever).

Catching Fire is my favorite book in the Hunger Games trilogy, not only because of the amazing characters, but because I like how it digs deeper into the turbulent climate of Panem, and how while we do get a second set of Games, how we experience them is totally different. This time, Katniss is not a lone wolf, but a member of a team. This time, it’s not children in the arena, but adults. And this time, although they ostensibly have the same mission, the underlying tone is that they’re fighting for something far greater than survival. And all of this was somehow even more effective in movie form than in book form. I thought this film did a stellar job in driving home the toll the Games take on the Districts, the savage mercilessness of the Capitol, the horror of the tributes and their families, and the psychological trauma that plagues even the “winners” of the Games. And I thought it set up audience expectation going into the third movie (which is going to be painful) masterfully.

My one quibble with the film was that it still harped a little too much on the supposed “love triangle” (which I still maintain does not even exist in the books), which made Katniss more wishy-washy and hormonal than she should be, given the events going on in her life. I think the filmmakers are shooting themselves in the foot, giving themselves an unnecessary uphill battle in pulling off the end of the trilogy convincingly, all in the name of being able to print more “Team Gale” and “Team Peeta” t-shirts. But it’s a minor quibble, and I can overlook it in light of all the other major things the film got so, so right.

Overall, I can honestly say that not only was Catching Fire one of my favorite movies of the year, but one of my favorite book-to-film adaptations ever. It made me laugh, gasp, and cry on more than one occasion (this is another movie where I must stress, bring tissues). My theater burst into spontaneous applause and cheering at several parts. The cast, the visuals, the direction, and the storytelling were all spot-on. I don’t say this often, but the film was, in my opinion, better than the book. If you are a fan of The Hunger Games, whether in book or movie form, Catching Fire does not disappoint. I’ve already seen it twice in theaters, and may need to see it again. It’s that good.


So those are my thoughts on the latest YA book-to-film adaptations, now playing in a theater near you. In non-book-adaptation news, I’ve also seen Thor: The Dark World (twice) and it is also pretty awesome. SO much more of all the things I wanted more of after the first movie (and yes, this includes LOTS more Loki).

Hopefully soon I’ll review some books on here. I spent most of November reading and critiquing friends’ manuscripts (coming down the eventual pipeline to a bookstore near you!), but am now finally caught up and back on the reading-books-currently-on-shelves bandwagon. Right now I’m reading ALLEGIANT, which I’ve managed to NOT SPOIL for myself yet, so please, I know it is polarizing but DON’T TELL ME WHAT HAPPENS. Please and thank you.

In the meantime, seen any good movies lately?