Adults shouldn’t read The Hunger Games, Twilight, any of the Percy Jackson books, or even Harry Potter (it’s a children’s book too you know!), Oliver Twist, Journey to the Center of the Earth, The Jungle Books….wait wait I haven’t made my point yet…. because we, as adults, are meant to work at our desks from 9-5 p.m., punch our time card, go home and attend to our personal responsibilities, kids, dinner etc. And then before we shut our eyes in anticipation of another day at our desk, we must read a chapter or two of serious nonfiction, poetry by one of the romantics, or a classic novel with outdated language and drawn out plot lines. How am I supposed to maintain my sanity in this kind of world?

Joel Stein in his opinion column on The New York Times “Room For Debate” blog says simply, “Adults should read adult books.” His quick argument is that you don’t need a brain to read young adult or children’s literature.

The AARP, in their article "Great Books for Any Age: Why the best new fiction for adults is written for teens" has a great quote from David Leviathan at Scholastic, "A good book is a good book," he says, "whatever the category." http://www.aarp.org/entertainment/books/info-02-2012/best-teen-fiction-for-adults.html

To me, adults should be able to read what they want. I’m not going to look down on a fully-suited man on the metro reading The Hunger Games just because he’s looking for a little adventure on his way to work. What you read doesn’t imply that you’re an idiot or not. Many people read a wide variety of different books. In fact, some of the young adult lit I’ve read has some of the best plot twists, irony, nuance, and storytelling than any adult novel (Take a gander at the Newbery Medal honors and winners. You’ll see what I mean.) Not all YA is great. It’s true. And I enjoy reading novels, nonfiction, and classics. There is 3,000 years of literature out there after all.

Stein is right that books offer a chance to learn. But video games (in moderation and depending on your choices, like, oh, the books you choose) also offer us a chance to learn about strategy and problem solving. We can learn about the world and all that’s in it on the internet. Music (yes, even Justin Beiber) teaches us about rhythm and tone. And young adult literature teaches us that you don’t need to wallow in a world of suits every day and to embrace the adventure.

I don’t think I would have ever picked this book up – simply because of its title. I know that’s a little shallow, but to me trolls spell BIG, UGLY, and HAIRY. Ugh. BUT:

Although they are all of these things in Farmer’s Sea of Trolls, the story beautifully weaves Nordic mythology with fictionalized history in this tale of adventure. It takes place in Anglo-Saxon Europe, where the Vikings (known in the book only as really large Northmen with a thirst for booty and plunder topped with wild red hair) are pillaging the British Isles. They stumble upon a small island where they capture Jack, who is training to be a Bard or magician, and his sister Lucy, who is convinced that she is actually a lost princess. Jack is uses his magic to accidentally turn the half troll queen who happens to be in command of the Northmen he’s captured by into a very ugly troll by making her hair fall out. Thus, to save his sister who is held as ransom, Jack must journey to Joutenheim – the legendary home of the

If only trolls in your imagination were this cute.

trolls to drink out of a magical fountain that will give him the knowledge he needs to un-uglify a very mad (and hairless) troll queen. Joutenheim turns out to be a sort of mythical Texas – everything is bigger and badder. Giant butterflies, giant flowers, and of course, giant troll people.

The pacing is fantastic. Farmer’s action scenes are nail biting and tense, while her characters’ thoughts, conversations, and decisions are fraught with anxiety, anger, relief, or genuine happiness. Though the Northmen are cruel, Jack finds humanity, humor,

and perilous adventure among them as they tell him, “Just say no to pillaging.” With obvious resemblance to The Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit (but just enough to maintain uniqueness), Farmer puts elegant
life into an epic tale fraught with giant spiders, dragons, poisonous oversized flowers, and yes, BIG HAIRY TROLLS.

A few months ago, I read Stiefvater’s Shiver in the “Wolves of Mercy Falls” series and it was terrible. It was like Twilight all over again, except there was no tension, no excitement, no what happens next. So I was extremely skeptical of her new book. But the rave reviews from Publisher’s Weekly convinced me. And it was well worth it.

The Scorpio Races takes place in the present day on the island of Thisby. Young Puck (Kate) Connolly and
her brothers have been orphaned when their parents died by the mouths of the flesh-eating horses that lie in the water off the beach. Her older brother decides it’s high time to quit the island, and when Kate also finds out that their house in under water in debt, she decides to take matters into her own hands by racing her ordinary mare against the super-equine water horses and their competitive handlers. The winner receives
a cash prize and participates in the centuries old race traditions – including trying to avoid being eaten.

Although sometimes confusing to understand the concept of man-eating water horses that like the ocean but come out sometimes to hang with the Thisby locals, it was a good story. In my opinion, there are a great many mythologically based stories – and not all of them good – but this one hits the mark. The characters aren’t too Twilight-esque. Dark, handsome, and mysterious Sean Kendrick paired with tom boyish and fiesty Puck works out well. There isn’t an immediate attraction – which is nice – and their relationship builds from those confused and raging teenage hormones that kind of just end up taking over in the end. It was enjoyable. The dual narrators too allows the reader to slip into both of their minds to understand the fascinating world they live in. Man-eating horses and all.

P.S. NOM NOM horsey TK

History and fantasy are the perfect combination in my ideal book. The best kind of fantasy is set in a world we’re not entirely familiar with, to enhance the feeling of wonder. Although The Apothecary (Putnam/Penguin, Oct. 2011) is set in 1950s London – not too far away from modern day – we’re looking at a world overrun with the fear of Communism. It’s crazy to imagine what that world was like. Feeling like you had to watch what you say, perhaps you would lose your job, be spied upon, or be imprisoned just for saying the wrong thing.

Our main character, Janie, lives in California. Her parents write for television, but all of a sudden strange men in suits start following Janie, and her parents feel the threat from the government strangling their lives. So, like many during the era of McCarthyism, they left. Janie lives in London, which hasn’t recovered quite as well from WWII as California. But the students practice bomb drills by hiding underneath their desks, and Janie meets Benjamin, a boy who’s father runs the apothecary next to her family’s apartment. Benjamin is slated to take over the family business, but has no desire, and would rather become a spy, interacting in a changing world. But suddenly, Dad’s job becomes way less boring when Benjamin’s father is captured and the teens are left with a powerful book who’s recipes can turn them invisible, into birds, and even stop a nuclear disaster.

This quiet little book with beautiful black and white illustrations by Ian Schoenherr heads into fantasy through the theories of alchemy. It’s beautifully done and you can tell the author has written for adult audiences. But it’s magical. History, mixed with scientists, alchemists, and magic makes a book that even Publisher’s Weekly called one of the best children’s books of 2011. And although the book doesn’t seem as quick as other YA novels, it takes place in the span of just three weeks. And I say the book is quiet because it doesn’t try so hard. The way the history, fiction, and fantasy intertwine is effortless. Potions are created and it doesn’t seem too unreal. A good fantasy draws you in, and this one certainly did.

I wonder about the term “Children’s.” I mean the library categorizes it as “Juvenile” and the word “Children’s” seems to be aging it down. So much of young adult fiction is now crossing over into adult markets. Think of how many adults love vampire novels now. And many of the themes that started in young adult (dark stuff, post-apocalypse anyone?) are drifting to the adult market.

But which to start with next? Hark, Publisher’s Weekly has a list for everything! Some of my picks from the Best Children’s Fiction of 2011.

Beauty Queens by Libba Bray (Scholastic): I watched Lost, OK. And a book about a bunch of teenage beauty queens that crash land onto a deserted   island sounds less like Lord of the Flies, and more like hilarious tanning scenes and attempts at walking in heels in the sand. Maybe it’s because I’ve always been a dork, but seeing teen princesses suffer just a little only to bring out some of their humanity is all right by me.

Note: I have not seen How to Train Your Dragon, but am now regretting it.

One of the best things on a quiet Friday night to yourself is the opportunity to cuddle with a good book. Last night, I made use of the new Kindle Lending Library to borrow How to Slay a Dragon by Bill Allen (Bell Bridge, 2011). Even though I can only borrow one book a month on my one month free trial of Amazon Prime (Surprise! That’s how they get you!) I definitely plan on buying upcoming books in this series (again, they got me!).

I’m not sure why I’ve been drifting more to elevated middle-grade books these days, but I like what I read. Allen’s book quickly transports readers into the tree house of seventh-grader Greg Hart – a short, gangly boy who spends his time writing fantastical adventures, constantly gets picked on by bullies like Manny Malice, and is invisible to all female cuteness. Just as he’s about to be pounded on by his arch nemesis – WHOOSH! – Greg is teleported via magic to a fantasy land called Myrth that is like something out of his own journal of adventures. This book is full of a great deal of WHOOSHes. And it moves quick. All of a sudden, Greg finds out he’s the famed Greghart from a mysterious prophecy that claims he’s out to slay a dragon. There’s just one problem – Greg Hart is actually two words and he’s never slain a dragon before. With much pushing and prodding, Greg is coerced into his predicted journey and meets a molten lava path, shrieking shrubbery, witches, shadowcats, a bollywomp, spirelings, and yes, a 300-foot dragon.

It’s a fast trip through Myrth, and there’s hardly time to stop and check out the scenery, but Allen’s imagination runs wild with the characters and the fun plot. Probably the best part is the wordplay. Greghart vs Greatheart, Earth vs Myrth, Simon Sez, and almost every chapter uses the word “Hart” (Hart of the Matter, Reunion of the Hart). There’s lots of light sarcasm, which makes the book fun and keeps it moving quickly (WHOOSH!) and makes it the perfect choice for reluctant (and dorky mid-20s) readers.

Sickness is something that we put out sort of out of sight out of mind in the modern United States. If you’re sick, you head to the doctor, they hand you a pill (they have one for everything) and in a couple of weeks you’re better. Or if you’ve developed something more serious (assuming you have decent health insurance), you’re whisked away to a hospital. You are cared for. Most people know nothing of an epidemic – where disease runs rampant throughout cities, slums, country towns, and destroys everything in its path. Everyone fends for themselves. That is something almost unheard of.

Skeleton man means that this review is a little spooky.

But over 200 years ago, the study of medicine was in its infancy. People did not understand the function of hygiene, the way the body works, or how disease was spread. The latter is very apparent in Laurie Halse Anderson’s Fever 1793, a novel that illustrates how in mere months thousands in Philadelphia were wiped out by a virulent strain of yellow fever (or yellow jack). Young Mattie Cook, who loves sugar and hates getting up early, is sent out of the city when the fever starts to get bad, but catches it herself in the middle of her journey. After a week of recovery, she heads back into the city only to find that it’s nearly abandoned. Only thieves and coroners remain, pushing carts around the city calling, “Bring out your dead! Bring out your dead!” Mattie finds that she must fend for herself alone in this post-apocalyptic city. The novel of course has a happy ending with many living happily ever after, George Washington parading through the city, and the family business saved.

What makes this story so special and chilling is that the yellow fever epidemic in Philadelphia was real. Yellow fever had come to Philadelphia (the capital of the United States at the time) before, but 1793 was particularly bad. Mosquitos had hitched a ride on a ship from West Africa, and they carried a powerful strain of the fever that spread like wildfire throughout the city. Yellow fever is not contagious, but the heat of that particular summer was perfect for the hordes of mosquitos that infested the 18th century city, biting and feeding on person after person and spreading the virus.

The writing in this story is wonderful yet simple and the plot kept me nibbling. Anderson’s story also really shows how quickly the disease spread. She builds up the tension of gossip of people getting sick, to the coffeehouse overflowing with customers who want to stay away from the docks, to a wealthy girl collapsing and falling ill in front of the main character. And that’s all by page 54. Anderson seems to have done impeccable research. The descriptions of the houses, the layout of early Philly, and the people are believable and seem real. Though the language is easy to understand, she pops in words like “necessary” (the bathroom), “shift,” and “grippe.” I’m of the mind that good historical fiction should have some of the time period embedded in it. Or maybe I’m just being so serious because this topic is so serious. Duly noted.

But I kept imaging myself in little 15-year-old Mattie Cook’s position. Girls grew up much more quickly than they do today, granted. But watching your family, your neighbors, and friends die from a horrible disease almost overnight is hard stuff. By the time winter begins, Mattie has recovered, is successfully running her mother’s coffee house, helping raise an orphan girl, and thinking about marrying the painter’s apprentice in a couple of years. I was probably thinking about how dorky I looked and how to get away with wearing sparkly eyeshadow at school when I was 15. Marriage and a business? Right.

At any rate, this was a fantastic, quick read. It’s won some fantastic awards and deserves all of them.

Oh, by the way, there’s still no cure for yellow fever.

That jaundice eye frightens me more than yellow fever.

We’ll start off with a little known history – hark, our first (award-winning!) historical fiction book!

Laurie Halse Anderson’s book is based on true events. A deadly form of yellow fever made its way aboard a ship from Africa to the United States and produced a deadly epidemic that raged through Philadelphia, killing thousands. Alexander Hamilton, Thomas Jefferson, and even George Washington, fled the city in fear.

Anderson’s book follows Mattie, who works at her family coffee shop, as she watches the mosquitos and death creep closer and closer.

Looking forward to a good read.