Review: The Floating Islands by Rachel Neumeier

Title: The Floating Islands 

Author: Rachel Neumeier

Rating: 4 Stars

I have a three-pronged reaction to seeing The Floating Islands on my shelf.

(1) A sigh of contentment because just look at that cover! It's gorgeous and oh-so fitting for the story within.

(2) A goofy smile because my copy is signed! Also: I think this is the only signed book I own, so a double goofy grin. (If those even exist...)

and

(3) A large pool of guilt because, no matter how much I try, I simply cannot seem to sit down and write a review for this book.

I've sort of promised myself that I am - under no circumstances - allowed to read another Neumeier book until I review the last book of hers I read; otherwise I'd just inhale all her books over a weekend. (Yes, they're just that good.)

When I read Neumeier's House of Shadows last year, I was struck by the strange sensation that Neumeier was not merely writing for an audience of fantasy lovers, she was writing for me. Which, obviously, is not true, but her books, nevertheless, contain all the perfect ingredients that I yearn for. With Neumeier, you are guaranteed to get three things, all done to perfection.

(1) Character Development
(2) Political Intrigue
and
(3) World Building

(NOT necessarily in that order, mind you!)

From the beginning itself, I was captivated by the three-dimensional quality of her characters. The Floating Islands shifts between the perspectives of Trei, an orphan who arrives at the Floating Islands to stay with his uncle, and Araene, his cousin who, as a girl, has a very limited amount of freedom. With this set-up, not only do we delve into the mind of these two protagonists - their dreams, hopes, and fears - but we also grow to understand the world around them. Trei cannot help but compare the Floating Islands to his homeland in the North and similarly, Araene cannot help but yearn to be a boy in her land instead of a girl. When Araene, notorious for sneaking out of her home as a boy, discovers a hidden school of magic and Trei, an outsider to the Floating Islands, is filled with an ambition to become a kajurai, one of the messengers of the realm who learn to fly, a tale of political intrigue is swiftly uncovered as are...dragons!

I wish I could wax poetry about this book, but I think I'll stick to sentences for the sake of all our sanities. Quite simply put, this book is brilliant. Trei and Araene grow to have a close bond of kinship - a pleasant change from the usual romances - and the focus of the plot never leaves the tense political situation at hand. Furthermore, the plot threads of Trei and Araene's life come together beautifully, all with a burst of emotion too as both these protagonists suffer greatly throughout the novel. While their adventures will keep you on the edge of your seat, their experiences will touch your heart.

What Neumeier does so well is build, not only her world (seamlessly), but also the relationships between her secondary characters. Both Trei and Araene grow to find their places in the world, both of their own accord and with the help of the new friends they make. I love that with Neumeier, nothing is truly sacrificed in her novels. Trei, who struggles to find a place to call home, and Araene, who is so uncomfortable in her own skin and what it dictates she can and cannot do in her own homeland, grow to find themselves gradually as the novel progresses. Furthermore, though, the secondary characters in this book are just as fleshed-out, integral to both the plot and the character growth. Neumeier is a true storyteller and tales are like one big puzzle piece, just waiting to be put together into such an incredible package.

The Floating Islands lacks for nothing. It has dragons in it - everyone's favorite mythological creature - politics, and, best of all, two protagonists to get behind. I already know I'll be re-reading this one, multiple times, in the future and I'm sure that each time, I'll discover something new to love about this. Is it my favorite Neumeier? Quite happily, I can't decide yet. After all, I still have so many of her books left to read - and I hope it stays that way for awhile. When I need a book to just get me, I know where to look: Rachel Neumeier.

Review: Eleanor and Park by Rainbow Rowell

Title: Eleanor and Park 

Author: Rainbow Rowell

Rating: 2.5 Stars

I sincerely hope no diabetic patients read this novel. Seriously. Eleanor and Park is almost a sickly-sweet kind of romance. I could feel myself cringing at the utter delight of it all: the gentle Asian boy, the big red-headed girl who didn’t fit in, the slow hand-holding, the chaste kisses, the Star Wars compliments, the cradle-the-phone-in-the-night discussions, the endless question-and-answer sessions, and most of all, the improbable romance of a poor girl who doesn’t even have a toothbrush and the rich boy who has a room full of model airplanes and cassette tapes. Nevertheless, despite the clichés in this novel and the almost dream-like quality of the story itself, I found myself hard pressed to dislike this story. Eleanor and Park is most definitely a love story I’m going to forget within a few hours, but somehow Rainbow Rowell is an author I’m not.

If you haven’t already figured it out, this is the type of novel that depicts what an almost perfect romance is like. Almost perfect because despite the cheesiness of the dialogue and the cloying sweet quality of the scenes in this, Eleanor and Park are both flawed and realistic characters; to some extent. I found Rowell’s depiction of Eleanor, in particular, to be gratifying. Not only is she “Big Red,” the girl who stands out from the crowd because of her bright hair and big-boned body, but she’s also the girl who isn’t afraid to speak her mind, who’s stunningly intelligent, and whose sarcasm and wit manages to utterly charm Park. Furthermore, her family situation – abusive stepdad, single mom with five children – makes her all the more complicated. Some of my favorite scenes took place when Eleanor was upset, too shaken to speak about her family or simply too embarrassed to discuss her situation and background. Just the fact that she, with her mood swings and clipped tones and limited discussion about her own life, caused a few prickly thorns to spring up in her relationship with Park was more than enough to add an extra layer to their nerdmance.

On the other hand, Park is a little too opposite Eleanor for my liking. First and foremost, he is really sweet, slowly developing his relationship with Eleanor from silence to comics to music and inviting her over to his house practically every day. Park struggles, for awhile, to accept Eleanor - all of her - especially because he so wants his parents’ approval of his first real girlfriend and somehow isn’t brave enough to fight for her completely. Thus, his progression as an individual was well-written, as was his complicated relationship with his father. I feel like father-son relationships are too easily dismissed in favor of mother-daughter relationships, but I do think that the former is just as important as the latter. Needless to say, I was impressed by the complicated, but affectionate, stance Rowell took in portraying their bond.

Nevertheless, Park is a little too perfect for my liking. Although he is an Asian – and feels insecure about that – there is no denying that females are clamoring for his attention. Park walks into a music store and the girl behind the counter is totally into him. His ex-girlfriend from when he was twelve is still, somehow, after his affections. And yet he feels like girls don’t like Asian boys. I do think his insecurities are valid, but I never was able to connect with him on the same level as I was with Eleanor. Moreover, his family is just too perfect. His father comes home from work and makes out with his mother, irrespective of the fact that they have two sons, have been married for years, and will likely have time to do all that – and more – behind closed doors. Eleanor, on the other hand, has a father who abandoned her, a stepdad who abuses her mother, four other younger siblings, and can’t even afford a toothbrush. If you had to pick two lives to place on opposite ends of a spectrum, these are it. And I guess Rowell was trying – as most authors of romance are – that love can bloom among even the unlikeliest of couples, but it seemed all too forced and purposeful for me to appreciate.

Yet, my main issue with this novel was with Park’s mother. We have a Korean bride who marries an American solider and comes home to live with him right next door to his Irish parents. But, despite this, there is not a drop of Korean culture in Park’s life. No Korean food, no Korean language, not even a mention of his mother’s family back in Korea until much later in the novel. I’m all for diversity in YA, but simply introducing an Asian character for the sake of having an Asian character, especially without the messy dilemma that dual-culture brings into the picture, grates on me. I’m an Asian myself and I live in a community where 75% of my neighbors are Asian. Indian, Chinese, Korean, Filipino, Japanese, Sri Lankan, Pakistani…you name it. We’re here. And I get that Eleanor and Park takes place in a different time period, but this Asian audience that Rowell is trying to reach? We exist. Also? We’d like to be represented in YA. Accurately. For one, the majority of Asians I know – myself included – have very close ties to their family members overseas. Maybe there isn’t international phone calling by this time in history – I don’t know – but wouldn’t Park’s mom try to ensure that her children knew about her background? Doesn’t she know any traditional Korean dishes? I find it so difficult to believe that she simply left behind everything, including her own Korean culture and beliefs, to assimilate to American life. With the exception of her accent, you’d never even know she wasn’t born and bred in America. And for an Asian character, that just isn’t right.

For all of that, though, there’s something about Eleanor and Park that makes it hard to put down. Impossible, really. I enjoyed reading about Eleanor and Park’s relationship, no matter how clichéd it was. I loved seeing Eleanor battle her demons, inner and outer, and seeing Park help her. Is their romance too good to be true? Yes. Are their declarations of love, of missing each other over weekends, etc. just a little too my-eyes-are-tired-of-rolling? Yes. I won’t deny that this book has its flaws – plenty of them – but every once-in-awhile, I found myself forgetting about them and just enjoying this fairy-tale romance. And, either way, I will definitely be getting my hands on Attachments soon because, no matter what I’ve said, Rainbow Rowell can write.

ARC Review: All Our Yesterdays by Cristin Terrill

Title: All Our Yesterdays (Cassandra Chronicles, #1)

Author: Cristin Terrill

Rating: 4.5 Stars

Release Date: September 3rd, 2013 

All Our Yesterdays is the book I've dreamt about, for nearly two years now. Ever since I began watching Doctor Who, I've been a huge fan of time travel. Sadly, however, none of the time travel books out there seemed truly remarkable and after watching episodes that blew my mind (thank you, Steven Moffat!), I knew that it would take a lot for a novel about time travel to truly impress me. Thus, it was a thrilling - and by no means expected - surprise to find that All Our Yesterdays was every bit as brilliant as rumored. Of course, this isn't a perfect debut, but it's pretty darn close.

All Our Yesterdays can be a bit confusing, at least when it comes to the plot, but I firmly believe that this novel is experienced at its best when little is truly known about it. Instead, what you do need to really know about this tale is that it revolves around the friendship of three teenagers, one of whom goes on to create a time machine and slowly become consumed by his ambition and greed. Thus, in order to save the world from the destruction they've witnessed in the future, the other two - Em (or Marina) and Finn - travel back in time to change the future. After dozens of unsuccessful attempts, they've both arrived at the same conclusion: in order for the future to be protected, they must kill their friend...before he turns into the monster he will eventually become.

What Terrill excels at with her debut are her characters. Each and every character is complicated and three-dimensional. Nothing about this story is black-and-white and although it seems like a simple thing to know right from wrong, Terrill goes on to show us just how ambiguous morality can be. Not only are her time travel elements intelligent and believable, but they also work together with the plot seamlessly. Em and Finn, now much older than their teenage selves, carry the burden of the future with them, but also that of knowing their friend before he changed. Thus, to kill him before the transformation is complete is much harder than they anticipated. Furthermore, even though we are given glimpses into the future, we also know the past. As Em and Finn know their friend, we grow to know him too, and despite knowing what he becomes, we cannot help but like him for who he is now. Terrill truly opens a can of worms with the questions she forces readers to truly ponder and I love a book that can make me think and question what I myself to believe cold, hard facts. Furthermore, the plot of this novel is breath-taking. It is doubtful that you will even have time to breathe; I know I forgot to on more than one occasion. Moreover, I found that the pacing was perfect, so by the time everything came together by the end, I was practically falling to the floor off my seat in excitement and curiosity.

And yet, perhaps because of the brilliance of so many concepts, Terrill's faults are also rather egregious. Most notably, perhaps, is that it is ever-so-slightly difficult to truly enjoy her characterization until much later in the novel. Marina, the younger version of Em, is a rich - there's no other word - brat. As the story progresses, though, it becomes clear that the transformation of these characters from their younger, innocent selves to their older, hardened selves is remarkable. And yet, it also reduces the emotional impact the characters have. Furthermore, many of the events in this novel are grossly simplified by the presence of money. With novels like The Raven Boys, the economic status of her characters seems a natural and ingrained factor. With All Our Yesterdays, however, it truly felt convenient. Moreover, I found that minority characters - such as a Mexican housekeeper - were sadly stereotyped. As I mentioned, Terrill's attention to detail in so many areas grew to become a fault as the few issues she didn't focus on became small flaws in her otherwise brilliant debut. Nevertheless, All Our Yesterdays isn't a book to miss out on. It's fast-paced, intelligent, romantic (oh, how you will swoon!) and - most of all - thought-provoking. I'm not sure there's anything more I could possibly ask for.

Review: Haze by Paula Weston

Title: Haze (Rephaim, #2) 

Author: Paula Weston

Rating: 4.5 Stars

Dear Paula Weston,
I hate to break this to you, especially since your novel has already released in many parts of the world, but I think you forgot to write an ending. Do you mind sending me those missing pages in the mail? Or will you accept chocolate chip cookies in exchange for Shimmer? Would a few of my limbs entice you instead?
Sincerely,
Willing to Do ANYTHING For the Ending of This Book

Haze is undeniable proof that Middle Book Syndrome is a thing of nightmares - one that can clearly be avoided by Aussie writers. With her sophomore novel, Weston has crafted a sequel that is stronger, darker, richer, and all the more enticing than her stunning debut ever was. Shadows is a promising start to a new series, but that's all it is: a beginning. With Haze we are finally allowed to delve deeper, not necessarily into the foundation of this world, but rather its characters, which, in my opinion, always makes for a much stronger story.

If Haze has any glaring flaws - beyond its lack of an ending, of course - it is that the crux of this novel only emerges well after the first-half of the book. In other words, Gaby and Rafa's quest to find Jude only really begins there. And yet, this book is all heart-pounding action and sexual tension, two aspects that are guaranteed to keep you flipping the pages frantically. (Or, you know, re-reading those paragraphs with a shirtless Rafa.) What I loved about Haze, from the beginning itself, was that it immediately solidified our bond to Gaby. While I sympathized with Gaby's predicaments in Shadows, I can't claim to have truly known her mind and heart. In Haze, however, Gaby has become as dear and close to me as a sister. Not only is Gaby still adjusting to the shocking fact that her memories are not real, she is also coping with the hope that Jude may be alive and, moreover, he may be different from the Jude she remembers. As such, Gaby doesn't jump at the chance to find her brother like Rafa does, and her hesitations are so palpably believable that you cannot help but want to prolong the inevitable search as well.

Quite thankfully, the events in this book are by no means unnecessary or filler. Instead, the plot focuses on finding a way to keep Maggie safe, which unearths a whole trove of Jason's past and hidden secrets even the Rephaim don't know about. It took me by surprise that Jason wound up playing such a huge role in this installment, but in retrospect, it makes the most sense. After all, unlike the other Rephaim Jason has living family members and his past is not only different, but unusual, from that his fellow brethren have shared. Thus, getting to know more about him, and his relationship to Maggie, was a pleasant spin. Maggie, too, comes more alive in this book. We finally see, not only how much she means to Gaby, but also how much Gaby means to her. Although both girls are facing new and life-changing revelations about themselves and the people they knew, their friendship endures. YA suffers from a dearth of realistic friendships, but I truly loved the manner in which Gaby and Maggie managed to remain close, all while moving apart from each other and into their own roles, at the same time.

I would be lying, though, if I said Haze was as good as it was without the presence of Rafa. Shadows established a murky commencement of the relationship between Gaby and Rafa. I, for one, was a little skeptical and worried about Rafa's continued insistence that Gaby remain in the dark about their past relationship. In Haze, however, not only is Rafa a kick-ass fighter, but he is also incredibly tender and understanding. It was those moments that made me fall head-over-heels for him. Yet, Rafa isn't simply the romantic interest of this tale. As a character, he brings a load of baggage to the table, working through his own inner demons, and we finally glimpse a sense of how difficult the past year has been for him without either Gaby or Jude. And this Rafa, the real Rafa, is a shocking and beautiful sight to behold. I love that Rafa and Gaby work through their relationship in this book. Actual, live conversations side-by-side with the raging sexual tension made this romance shoot up to become one of my favorites. It still remains merely an aspect of this series, and never an overwhelming majority of it, but it simmers and sits, boiling in the back of your mind and your heart.

If you haven't already picked up Shadows, I'm not sure what more I can say at this point to convince you to do so at once. Paula Weston is Australian. Surely that's enough? Plus, the sequel is much better novel, full of close friendships, tight bonds, and simmering romance. I savored this book, reading only a few chapters a day because I didn't want to leave this world. It is so rarely that I ever enjoy a series to this extent, and those are the books to watch out for and cherish. Needless to say, Haze is one of the best books I've read this year and I cannot wait for the rest of the world to devour it. Paula Weston - my chocolate chip cookie offer still stands. Meanwhile, excuse me while I scrounge for money to pre-order Shimmer. I doubt I'll get a good night's sleep until that book is in my hands.

Mini-Reviews: The Best Man, A Certain Slant of Light, and Nine Rules to Break When Romancing a Rake

Title: The Best Man (Blue Heron, #1) 

Author: Kristan Higgins

Rating: 4 Stars

It seems as if Kristan Higgins can do no wrong. Although Somebody to Love was a bump in the road, The Best Man certainly wasn't. From the beginning itself, it's difficult not to like Faith, the protagonist of this novel. After all, she's been dumped at the altar by her perfect boyfriend-of-eight-years, Jeremy, when he announces that he's gay. Thus, fleeing to San Francisco, Faith harbors a broken heart and a pool of hatred for Levi Cooper, Jeremy's best friend who convinced Jeremy to come out with the truth. Growing up, Levi never liked Faith. Not only was she extraordinarily rich, especially compared to his one-room house in a trailer, but she was Princess Super Cute - extra nice, extra peppy, all the time. Now, three years after her failed wedding, Faith is back home, still single and still detesting the very sight of Levi, now Chief Cooper. It seems fate, however, has slightly different plans for them...

I won't deny it - I struggled with the first third of this novel. I listened to The Best Man and while the audio book is good - not excellent, but still worth a listen - it tends to drag the break-up between Faith and Jeremy for too long. The Best Man switches between Faith and Levi's perspectives, one chapter in the present and one in the past, giving us a full overview of their lives. We grow to see Levi's difficult childhood - a father who abandons him, a life of scrounging for money, and the painful decision to join the army since he doesn't have $5,000 to pay for college even after a generous scholarship. We also see Faith's childhood, one that seems perfect on the outside but actually harbors a great deal of pain. Faith suffers from seizures and was in the car with her mother when she died. As such, Faith has spent her whole life attempting to atone for the fact that her mother was looking back at her, not the road. "Princess Super Cute" is all a facade to hide her pain and Jeremy - sweet, kind, perfect Jeremy - seems to be Faith's salvation. It takes a long while to reach this understanding, though. We are treated to pages upon pages of Faith remembering Jeremy with fondness, when, frankly, I would have kicked him if I was in her place. And yet, everything does make sense and Faith winds up being a much deeper character than we bargained for.

As always, The Best Man tackles a multitude of issues. Faith's family plays a huge role in this, particularly her widowed father, and Levi himself has an important family role as the sole caretaker of his younger sister, Sarah. If there is anything Higgins excels at, it is well-written family relationships. Levi and Sarah were my definite favorites, but Faith and her sisters, all going through different problems and at different stages in their lives, was utterly poignant as well. Furthermore, I loved how Levi and Faith's relationship developed oh-so-slowly. It's practically a tease - hell, it is! - and it was particularly interesting to see how Levi views Faith - as someone strong - compared to how Jeremy views her as vulnerable. And Jeremy. *sigh* You want to hate a guy for stringing a girl along for eight years and then leaving her at the altar, but you can't. Or, you can, but just not this guy. Jeremy and Faith's friendship was a highlight of this story as well and it was a refreshing change from the usual road of angst that many authors typically take. Higgins, however, is anything but typical. I love that her heroines have lives, are passionate about their careers and families, and even have pets (okay, DOGS) to keep away the loneliness. I love that her heroes are flawed - completely - and yet they are good men with good hearts. And I love these small towns. Not the vicious kind, but the sweet (but still annoying) type. All in all, The Best Man is yet another lovely romantic addition from Higgins. Needless to say, I cannot wait for the companion novel!

Title: A Certain Slant of Light (Light, #1)

Author: Laura Whitcomb

Rating: 3 Stars

A Certain Slant of Light is both a pleasant surprise and...not. On one hand, I am incredibly impressed with Whitcomb's story. It is a paranormal love story, but of a very different nature than most. Helen and James, the couple in question, are ghosts left behind in the Light, having been dead for nearly 130 years. Thus, when they find each other and take over two teenage bodies to be together, their relationship is an adult one - only in a teenage body. Needless to say, this brings up quite a few difficult situations, but Whitcomb weaves through these with ease. Not only does she present us with sticky dilemmas, but her solutions are just as complex. Furthermore, she never hesitates to answer many of the moral questions that possession brings up and the entire plot of this novel is nothing short of brilliant.

On the other hand, though, I couldn't really connect with the characters. I liked them well enough and I especially enjoyed their depth, but I wasn't wholly invested in them for some reason. By the time this short volume was over, I was overjoyed. I couldn't wait to leave this narrative voice, despite having been stunned by it. I can't say where A Certain Slant of Light went wrong, but I doubt I'll be picking up the companion novel to this anytime soon. I would, however, highly recommend it for fans of romance, ambiguous morality, and ever-so-slightly open endings.

Summer Series Reading Challenge: 16

Title: Nine Rules to Break When Romancing a Rake (Love By Numbers, #1) 

Author: Sarah MacLean

Rating: 4 Stars

Although I am a meticulous planner and organizer to boot, when it comes to books, I follow my gut. And when my emotions scream that they want light, escapist romance fiction, I nearly always turn to historical romance. I find there is something alluring about this genre that keeps me coming back for more, despite the horrendous covers, and I'm thrilled to have discovered another author I can pile up onto a pedestal next to Lisa Kleypas: Sarah MacLean.

Historical Romance falls into three categories. We have, first and foremost, the horrible kind where our heroes are raping our heroines but they fall in love anyway. We have the typical trysts and romances that are filled with unbelievable scenes. And then we have the truly good, deep and emotional yet extremely realistic and sensual love stories. Seeing as the latter is so hard to find, I don't fault many readers for avoiding this genre entirely. Yet, the feeling that can be found when you have a good historical romance novel in your hand is hard to recreate.

I love this book. Callie, our protagonist, is sick of being a spinster at just 28 years of age. Instead of throwing herself at the nearest suitor, though, she resolves to enjoy her life and accomplish all the scandalous tasks she's ever wanted to, such as gamble in a men's house. I love that Callie is so fed up with her role in society and life that she takes matters into her own hands and finds herself once again in her adventures. Along the way, the notorious rake Ralston becomes intrigued by Callie and their gradual romance is sizzling. While the love story in this is unparalleled with swoon, I enjoyed this book mostly for its hilarity, pure fun, and mainly Callie. There are few things I enjoy more in this world than strong female characters and Callie is the epitome of that and more. If you're looking for some pure, uninterrupted, and fiery amusement, this is the perfect read. I'd immerse myself back in Callie's world of wit and charm in a heartbeat.

Summer Series Reading Challenge: 17