Review: Across a Star-Swept Sea by Diana Peterfreund

When Diana Peterfreund came out with her futuristic re-imagining of Jane Austen’s Persuasion last year, For Darkness Shows the Stars, I highly enjoyed it. I was swept up in Eliot and Kai’s star-crossed love story, and it made me giddy and squishy in the way only Austen can.

So when I discovered there was to be a companion novel — not a sequel, but another story set in the same world, this time to the tune of The Scarlet Pimpernel, I was anxious to read it. And fortunately, a friend graciously offered to let me borrow her ARC (which…I have not yet returned. She had life things and then had life things and what I’m saying is, Friend, if you want your ARC back, let’s do coffee).

Across a Star-Swept Sea does not pick up where the first book leaves off, and you don’t have to have read FDStS to enjoy it…but I’d still recommend first things first. It’ll be better that way.

The Plot (from Goodreads):

Centuries after wars nearly destroyed civilization, the two islands of New Pacifica stand alone, a terraformed paradise where even the Reduction—the devastating brain disorder that sparked the wars—is a distant memory. Yet on the isle of Galatea, an uprising against the ruling aristocrats has turned deadly. The revolutionaries’ weapon is a drug that damages their enemies’ brains, and the only hope is rescue by a mysterious spy known as the Wild Poppy.

On the neighboring island of Albion, no one suspects that the Wild Poppy is actually famously frivolous aristocrat Persis Blake. The teenager uses her shallow, socialite trappings to hide her true purpose: her gossipy flutternotes are encrypted plans, her pampered sea mink is genetically engineered for spying, and her well-publicized new romance with handsome Galatean medic Justen Helo… is her most dangerous mission ever.

Though Persis is falling for Justen, she can’t risk showing him her true self, especially once she learns he’s hiding far more than simply his disenchantment with his country’s revolution and his undeniable attraction to the silly socialite he’s pretending to love. His darkest secret could plunge both islands into a new dark age, and Persis realizes that when it comes to Justen Helo, she’s not only risking her heart, she’s risking the world she’s sworn to protect.

In this thrilling adventure inspired by The Scarlet Pimpernel, Diana Peterfreund creates an exquisitely rendered world where nothing is as it seems and two teens with very different pasts fight for a future only they dare to imagine.

My Thoughts:

The setting for Across a Star-Swept Sea is far removed from the Luddite estate of For Darkness Shows the Stars. The citizens of Albion and Galatea believe they alone survived the Reduction, but the two islands have very different ideas of how to move forward afterward, and each character in the story believes their way is the right one.

There are two main points of view, Justen and Persis, but several secondary characters get a bit of time in the POV spotlight as well, giving us every side of the conflict. The book plunges headlong into the science and politics that propel the revolution in New Pacifica, and the rebellion led by the Wild Poppy. The plot is smart and doesn’t coddle — there’s a lot of world-building and political set-up in the opening chapters, and that complex wider conflict sets the stage for the more intimate, personal conflict of the characters.

Though Justen and Persis team up almost right off the bat, Justen has no idea who she is — not as a spy, and not as a person — and spends the vast majority of the book believing she’s as vapid and shallow as she appears. Meanwhile, Persis has more than a few misconceptions about Justen as well. The false impressions carry us most of the way through the story, which normally I would find galling, but when you are reading a book based on The Scarlet Pimpernel, it’s kind of what you signed up for.

I enjoyed the characters in this story, maybe Justen a bit more than Persis simply because her Persis Flake act started to grate after a while. It was the point (and Persis was sick of it, too), but gave Justen a slight edge. As for the supporting cast, I enjoyed most of them, and was glad that we got to see perspectives of people on both sides of the conflict and from all the different social classes. It gave the story a good bit of variety and texture. I have to admit, though, I became the most invested when some familiar faces from For Darkness Shows the Stars showed up midway through the book. It was nice to revisit the characters I’d grown attached to in the first book and see how they interacted with the new characters in this unfamiliar setting.

Across a Star-Swept Sea isn’t as heavy on the romance as For Darkness Shows the Stars, though it certainly has its moments. Its plot relies more on intrigue and scheming, and so I found myself invested more in the fate of the people of New Pacifica, and Persis’ secret identity as the Wild Poppy, than the will-they-or-won’t-they between Justen and Persis. And really, that was enough, because that plot was interesting enough on its own. And I thought that was fitting, because it put my priorities in line with the characters, most of whom put the Revolution ahead of themselves. So the romance became a sweet dollop of icing on an already tasty cake.

If you’re a fan of both sci-fi and the classics, or if you read For Darkness Shows the Stars and want to revisit the post-Reduction world Diana Peterfreund created, or if you simply enjoy a smart futuristic tale populated with a variety of colorful characters, I’d recommend you pick up Across a Star Swept Sea.

Review: Vicious by V.E. Schwab

I have been salivating over Vicious by V.E. Schwab since she first announced its existence on Twitter. I don’t think it’s any big secret that I love a well-written villain. So finding out that Victoria, whose writing I adore, had penned an entire novel about supervillains? Bliss. Pure, utter bliss. The only problem was that I had to actually wait for Vicious to release, and I suck at waiting.

BUT because I live in the best writing community in the entire world*, one that is home to one V.E. Schwab, I was actually able to get my hands on an early copy. Naturally, I devoured it almost the second I got my grimy** little fingers on it (not the exact second, as I had to drive home and that would’ve gotten messy). As expected, I loved every single twisted page.

Disclaimer: You’ve probably heard of V.E. Schwab’s alter ego, Victoria Schwab, author of The Near Witch and The Archived. Victoria is a YA author. V.E. is an Adult author. Vicious is an Adult book, with an adult voice and adult content. It’s still very much Victoria’s lovely writing, but it does not feel like her YA. It’s all grown up and dark and twisted and in need of therapy. So if you are a teen, or an adult who prefers YA, a word of caution before jumping on the Vicious bandwagon. It’s fantastic — but it’s not YA.

*I have not lived in every writing community in the world — just the one — but I’m pretty sure it’s the best.

**They were probably not actually grimy, but I can’t rule it out since I had tacos for dinner.

The Plot (from Goodreads):

Victor and Eli started out as college roommates—brilliant, arrogant, lonely boys who recognized the same sharpness and ambition in each other. In their senior year, a shared research interest in adrenaline, near-death experiences, and seemingly supernatural events reveals an intriguing possibility: that under the right conditions, someone could develop extraordinary abilities. But when their thesis moves from the academic to the experimental, things go horribly wrong.

Ten years later, Victor breaks out of prison, determined to catch up to his old friend (now foe), aided by a young girl whose reserved nature obscures a stunning ability. Meanwhile, Eli is on a mission to eradicate every other super-powered person that he can find—aside from his sidekick, an enigmatic woman with an unbreakable will. Armed with terrible power on both sides, driven by the memory of betrayal and loss, the archnemeses have set a course for revenge—but who will be left alive at the end?

In Vicious, V. E. Schwab brings to life a gritty comic-book-style world in vivid prose: a world where gaining superpowers doesn’t automatically lead to heroism, and a time when allegiances are called into question.

My Thoughts: 

I loved Vicious from the first few chilling pages. Vicious is a little grittier, a little bleaker than Victoria’s YA novels, but although the prose is more stark than in her other books, it lacks none of her characteristic lyricism. It’s obvious from the disturbing opening — where we meet two of our main characters as they dig up a grave — that the reader is in for a well-crafted tale spun by a mind that is twisted in the best possible way.

Let’s talk for a minute about characters. Vicious focuses around two central characters, Victor and Eli, once best friends, now mortal enemies. Each has his own small band of misfit allies, some with powers, some without. And the best part of every single one of these characters is that each of them chooses sides based on what they believe in their hearts to be right. Maybe not good, but right. The calls they make are difficult, their actions are not clean and the consequences are often messy, but each fully realized secondary character picks the side they think is best not just for them individually, but the world as a whole. Which makes every character think they are fighting for the side of light, when in reality, they all inhabit a world of gray.

Sorry, I couldn’t resist.

Getting back to Eli and Victor, my favorite villains in fiction have always been the ones who were motivated by more than darkness, power, and a desire to watch the world burn. Sure, there’s a strange dark beauty in a villain who will stop at nothing to destroy the hero, simply because he stands on the side of good. The Jokers and the Voldemorts and the Moriartys. But an excellent villain is one who can make me root for him, in spite of the fact that he opposes our hero, because in his own mind, he is right. These are the Lokis, the Magnetos, the Dr. Horribles, the Javerts. They’re the villains I know need to be defeated, but I keep hoping they will redeem themselves, because they make me care for them. Sometimes even more than I care for the good guys.

Eli and Victor both fall into this second category. Vicious is a book about villains, except none of the characters see themselves as particularly villainous. Certainly neither starts off that way. Eli and Victor begin as college roommates and best friends, whose downward spiral into villainy begins as nothing more than a thesis project and a flight of fancy. This is not a case of characters destined to be evil masterminds. They’re simply two guys who were, quite literally, too clever for their own good.

Ironically, the character who is indisputably the more righteous of the pair is probably the closest thing to a pure villain, whereas the one who comes across as more heroic (although even he is far from a hero) sees himself as irredeemable. The character with the stronger moral compass drifts deep into the darkness, while the one with little empathy or remorse holds himself in check right where the light begins to fade into shadow. It’s a fascinating dichotomy, and brilliantly executed. Vicious doesn’t paint either protagonist in particularly rosy colors, and both characters make terrible decisions and, at one point or another, commit terrible acts of violence with motives that are far from noble. But in this world where nothing is as simple as black and white or good and evil, it’s fascinating to see who we root for. I finished the book thinking really, one character wasn’t so bad — surely he wasn’t a villain — until I thought back to what he actually did, and I realized yes, yes he was. He just wasn’t as much of a villain as the other character. And I didn’t want anything bad to happen to him, because I liked him — even though in a black-and-white world, I really shouldn’t have liked him.

As for the plot itself, Vicious is an intricately woven tale of intrigue and deception, betrayal and revenge. The rules of the world are simple and clear, enough that you find yourself wondering if maybe it is possible to give yourself superpowers through thwarting death. The twists and turns aren’t predictable, yet everything makes sense. The action isn’t constant, but ebbs and flows in a natural rhythm that keeps the pages flying by. Victoria masterfully builds the tension leading to the final confrontation between Victor and Eli throughout the entire book, slowly ratcheting up anticipation until it’s almost unbearable. And when they finally do meet, the result is explosive, bloody, and deliciously satisfying. I was left wanting more, not because any threads were left dangling, but because this world and these characters were so painfully amazing that it hurt to be parted from them.

If you’re a fan of sympathetic villains and realistic superpowers and dark, twisty tales brimming with moral ambiguity, make haste to your nearest bookseller and pick up a copy of Vicious. Run, don’t walk. Or, if you can, fly.

Film Review: The Mortal Instruments: City of Bones

I read the first book in Cassandra Clare’s Mortal Instruments series over a year ago, and while I liked it, it didn’t leave me chomping at the bit to read the rest of the series immediately. Really, I remember thinking after finishing the book, the format I wanted to experience this story in was cinema. Everything was so big and bold and visual. It’s funny, because I’ve read other books that I adored as books, and while I loved the film versions as well, the books held the magic for me. *coughHarryPottercough*. But for whatever reason, City of Bones just felt like a movie to me, even while reading.

So obviously, I was happy to hear it was being made into a movie. This is how I wanted to experience this story in the first place! I wasn’t a rabid fan like many out there, but the trailers looked good and I’m a big fan of on-screen magical demon slayage, however I can get it. Then I managed to snag a couple passes to an advance screening, which really made the decision to see it a no-brainer.

Overall, I was really pleased with the adaptation. I think it’s good that I only read the book once, and I read it a while ago, because while I was familiar with the story, I wasn’t so familiar that every deviation from the source material stood out like someone pointed a spotlight on them *coughHarryPottercough*. I could experience the story with eyes that may have not been fresh, but were at least wide open. I thought the casting was (mostly) spot-on, the acting was good, the writing was solid, and the effects and visuals were lovely.

The main characters of the book all made the transition from book to screen more or less intact. I still liked Simon more than Jace (I feel like, as in the book, Jace relies a lot on smolder, and Simon on wit, and for me, wit will always trump smolder). Also, Simon makes a Ghostbusters reference early on that pretty much cemented him as my Favorite Franchise Character Forever. But book-Jace fans will not be disappointed. There is plenty of smolder and snark, as well as heaps of demon-slaying goodness. I also enjoyed Alec and Isabelle, although if I had to pick one character who didn’t make the jump to screen as well as the others, I’d have to go with Alec. He was…fine? But I didn’t really feel anything toward him, whereas I liked Alec in the book.

The supporting players — Valentine, Jocelyn, Luke, Magnus — were all strong. I would be totally happy to see a movie solely about the adult cast. They all made excellent use of very little screen time, and I found myself wishing for more of all of them (although don’t get me wrong — I didn’t wish for less of the teen cast, either). Jonathan Rhys Meyers has made deliciously sinister into an art form, and it makes me want to go back and watch The Tudors again even though I had to quit that show (because seriously, guys, SO MANY NASTY EXECUTIONS). Lena Headey was strong and confident and I wish she was conscious more. Aidan Turner played a no-nonsense werewolf so well, I didn’t even remember that he’s a hobbit. And I know there are a truckload of Magnus Bane fans out there, but he’s not in the first book much, nor is he in the first movie much, so I don’t really get it yet. But I can say, Godfrey Gao totally rocked the guyliner.

As far as story goes, I think the writers walked the tightrope of cut-vs-keep masterfully. A very twisty-turny plot was, for the most part, streamlined into something a new audience could grasp without dumbing it down and alienating the original fans. Yes, there were some scenes in the book (even some action scenes, surprisingly) that didn’t make the cut. Yes, there were some lines added to the film version that didn’t really enhance the experience at all (one, in particular, I felt robbed the audience of an especially gasp-inducing moment). But for the most part, I thought all the variations from the book made sense, adapting the story into one that will please fans of the book as well as people who have never picked up the series before.

There’s lots of action, lots of intensity, and a crazy-creepy world where nothing is ever as it seems. As YA book-to-movie adaptations go, it’s definitely one of the better ones I’ve seen. I didn’t Hunger Games love it, but I absolutely enjoyed it. I think fans of the books will be pleased, and those new to the story will be drawn in. It even made me want to go read the second book in the series, which I was previously unmotivated to do. And for a film based on a book — especially the first film in a series — I think that’s one of the best reactions it could hope to inspire.

Review: The Darkest Minds by Alexandra Bracken (@alexbracken @DisneyHyperion)

I received a copy of The Darkest Minds by Alexandra Bracken from a friend, and I honestly had no idea what it was about. I must live under a rock, because I hadn’t heard all the buzz surrounding this book. So I went into this one blind, on a whim, and guys — it was a good whim.

The Plot (from Goodreads)

When Ruby woke up on her tenth birthday, something about her had changed. Something alarming enough to make her parents lock her in the garage and call the police. Something that gets her sent to Thurmond, a brutal government “rehabilitation camp.” She might have survived the mysterious disease that’s killed most of America’s children, but she and the others have emerged with something far worse: frightening abilities they cannot control.

Now sixteen, Ruby is one of the dangerous ones.

When the truth comes out, Ruby barely escapes Thurmond with her life. Now she’s on the run, desperate to find the one safe haven left for kids like her—East River. She joins a group of kids who escaped their own camp. Liam, their brave leader, is falling hard for Ruby. But no matter how much she aches for him, Ruby can’t risk getting close. Not after what happened to her parents.

When they arrive at East River, nothing is as it seems, least of all its mysterious leader. But there are other forces at work, people who will stop at nothing to use Ruby in their fight against the government. Ruby will be faced with a terrible choice, one that may mean giving up her only chance at a life worth living.

My Thoughts

From the first page, I was riveted by this story and this world. The concept of a disease that either kills or gives superpowers — and that death may be preferable — was amazing. It’s never explained why it only affects the children (and apparently, only American children), and it doesn’t really matter. Ruby doesn’t know, so we don’t need to know.

Then Ruby is sent to a “rehabilitation camp,” which reeks of all the ugliest parts of human history. Ruby spends her adolescence in constant fear and misery. She has a power she doesn’t understand and doesn’t want, one which has stolen all the most important parts of her life. She’s learned to hide it, more through instinct than through knowledge, but eventually, it comes out. And Ruby escapes, but her problems are far from over. It seems everyone she encounters either wants to use her or kill her, until she chances upon a group of renegade kids who are also on the run.

The kids she encounters — Chubs, Liam, and Zu — are all amazing characters. They’re different and well-developed, and I loved the different ways they approach their relationship with Ruby. Zu, in particular, impressed me, because Alex Bracken managed to make her this amazingly sympathetic and beautiful character, without a word of dialogue. Then there’s Chubs, who’s suspicious and harsh, because of his fierce loyalty to his friends. And Liam, who is trusting and gentle and wants nothing more than for his friends to be safe. My heart broke for Liam again and again, because while he was trying so hard to lead their little ragtag group, there were moments where I remembered, he’s just a kid. He’s not cut out for this, but he’s trying his best.

Ruby herself is both strong and fragile, broken but determined. She wants to believe the best of others but the worst of herself, and sometimes makes poor decisions because of this. I like that she was a very flawed and damaged character, and that one of her main struggles wasn’t external, but internal. Watching Ruby learn to — maybe not embrace, but accept her powers was wonderful. I did have one small complaint with Ruby, and that is for a kid who went to the camps at ten and lost all contact with the outside world, she seems to know quite a bit about pop culture and classic rock. I mean, she can recognize the synthesizers and vocalist of Pink Floyd, even though she doesn’t know the song? Maybe I’m out of touch with the ten-year-olds of today, but that seemed like a bit of a stretch for me. However, that’s a tiny complaint. Just something that took me out of the story now and then.

As for the pacing, this book is kind of a slow burn. There’s a lot of tension, but not a lot of action for long stretches of time. I personally was a big fan of this, as I thought it added to the story’s atmosphere, but if you’re looking for a book brimming with action and adventure and superpower battles, this isn’t it. Those things are certainly present, but they’re not the main drive or focus of the story. But I was never bored. The dialogue is fabulous, and as I said before, the characters are wonderful.

I don’t want to say much more about it, because there are some fabulous plot developments that, while I saw some of them coming, were just so perfect for the story and Ruby’s growth as a character. And the ending is heartbreaking, but perfect, and left me itching for the sequel.

Overall, I thought this was an excellent book with strong characters, a fascinating and terrifying world, and a tense plot that kept me rapidly turning pages until the end. If you haven’t checked it out yet, you should.

Edit: So I know this video has been out for over a year, but I just saw it last week because I am not hip enough to see things when they come out. And it IMMEDIATELY made me think of this book. So much so that if the kid was a girl and they stuck the book’s title at the end, it could almost be a book trailer.

Also: most. Aggressive. Earworm. Ever.

Review: What’s Left of Me by Kat Zhang (@KatZhang @harperteen)

Received an advance digital review copy from Edelweiss

I’ve been interested in What’s Left of Me, the debut by Kat Zhang, since I first heard of it. The premise was intriguing – two people trapped in the same body, fighting for dominance? But unlike in other books exploring a similar theme, like The Host, the characters in this book are actually born that way? I sensed potential for greatness. And when I realized Kat was another Nashville author whom I would have the opportunity to meet, that sealed the deal. I needed to read this book ASAP.

The Plot (from Goodreads)

Eva and Addie started out the same way as everyone else—two souls woven together in one body, taking turns controlling their movements as they learned how to walk, how to sing, how to dance. But as they grew, so did the worried whispers. Why aren’t they settling? Why isn’t one of them fading? The doctors ran tests, the neighbors shied away, and their parents begged for more time. Finally Addie was pronounced healthy and Eva was declared gone. Except, she wasn’t . . .

For the past three years, Eva has clung to the remnants of her life. Only Addie knows she’s still there, trapped inside their body. Then one day, they discover there may be a way for Eva to move again. The risks are unimaginable-hybrids are considered a threat to society, so if they are caught, Addie and Eva will be locked away with the others. And yet . . . for a chance to smile, to twirl, to speak, Eva will do anything.

My Thoughts

This book took some getting used to, because of the unnatural (yet accurate for the story) use of pronouns and verb conjugations. Because there are two people sharing one body, you get paragraphs like this:

“Kind of,” Addie said. She managed to keep our voice bland despite Hally’s dogged high spirits, but our fingers tugged at the bottom of our blouse. It had fit at the beginning of the year, when we’d bought all new uniforms for high school, but we’d grown taller since then. Our parents hadn’t noticed, not with — well, not with everything that was happening with Lyle — and we hadn’t said anything.

“Want to come over?” Hally said.

Addie’s smile was strained. As far as we knew, Hally had never asked anyone over.

– page 8, What’s Left of Me

Keeping in mind that all those “our”s and “we”s are talking about two individuals sharing the same body. Sometimes Addie acts independently of Eva, sometimes they act together. Sometimes people are addressing both of them, sometimes just one. You’d think it would be really confusing, but it’s not once you get used to it. I do, however, feel sorry for Kat’s editor. Grammarcheck would have had a hard time with this one.

I really liked that this story was told from the perspective of Eva, the recessive soul. It was fascinating watching Eva and Addie’s sibling dynamic, when one of them had only a voice and no body. They could communicate with each other, but Eva couldn’t speak with their voice to anyone else. So lots of times, Eva sat helplessly inside their body, urging Addie toward a course of action, only to have to suffer the consequences when Addie made a different choice.

Although it wasn’t a major plot point of the book, I was completely fascinated by the family dynamics in the book. Eva and Addie’s parents both, at some point during their lives, tell them that they love both of them. But at the same time, they urge Eva to fade away, and for Addie to assert her dominance. It’s such a weird and challenging concept — how should a parent’s love be affected by having two children inhabiting the same body? And should they mourn the “death” of one for the good of the other, or should they simply accept it as the way life works? Eva, obviously, feels hurt by the withdrawal of her parents’ affection — from her, not Addie — even as she tries to tell herself it’s normal for them to stop talking to her. Again, this isn’t actually a huge part of the story, but it was such an interesting question to me.

And the question necessarily expands to intertwine with the main narrative. Should one soul be forced to fade away, or do both have a right to share the body? And if both souls have equal rights to the body, who gets to choose what they do? If one soul is romantically attracted to someone and the other is not, which gets to follow their heart?

As Eva and Addie struggle with these philosophical questions, they have to deal with the physical problem of being taken and incarcerated if their hybrid nature is discovered. And so in addition to the internal struggle, there is a lot of external action, adventure, and peril. Even a touch of romance, although that too becomes a delicate and challenging situation. It’s a great mix, and I was completely sucked in.

Eva’s narration is sparse but effective, and the storytelling flowed nicely. There’s still some huge questions at the end of the book, but it’s not a cliffhanger. Truthfully, I don’t know if it’s possible to fully and neatly answer all of the questions raised by this book, so in that way, it would actually work as a standalone (even though it’s the first of a trilogy). Oh, and although it’s being touted as a dystopian, it’s really not. Nor is it really sci-fi. More of an alternate reality. It’s one of those books that’s kind of hard to define, which I think actually broadens its appeal.

I thought this book was really good, but it didn’t completely knock me off my feet. I feel like it could, and I’m almost expecting that from the sequel. But while this one was highly enjoyable, it didn’t quite crack that amorphous bubble that houses my all-time favorites. That said, I still highly recommend it.

Content guide: Contains some violence