The Basic Eight by Daniel Handler Review

WARNING: THERE MAY BE SPOILERS BELOW

“Maybe, generations ago, young people rebelled out of some clear motive, but now, we know we’re rebelling. Between teen movies and sex-ed textbooks we’re so ready for our rebellious phase we can’t help but feel it’s safe, contained. It will turn out all right, despite the risk, snug in the shell of rebellion narrative. Rebellion narrative, does that make sense? It was appropriate to do, so we did it.”- The Basic Eight, Daniel Handler

Flannery Culp wants you to know the whole story of her spectacularly awful senior year. Tyrants, perverts, tragic crushes, gossip, cruel jokes, and the hallucinatory effects of absinthe -- Flannery and the seven other friends in the Basic Eight have suffered through it all. But now, on tabloid television, they're calling Flannery a murderer, which is a total lie. It's true that high school can be so stressful sometimes. And it's true that sometimes a girl just has to kill someone. But Flannery wants you to know that she's not a murderer at all -- she's a murderess.

Hey guys! Hope everyone had a good Christmas! I had a nice holiday and the first of my Christmas book reviews will be up tomorrow. I actually read this before Christmas, but then got too distracted to write a review by, well, wrapping presents, baking cookies, and watching countless Drawfee videos, my new favorite YouTube channel. Anyway, let's get into the review.

I've never been a Daniel Handler or Lemony Snickett fan, surprising since I love morbid shit like the kind of books he writes. There's just something about his writing that's always kind of turned me off. I think part of the problem is that he's a very gimmicky writer- in this case each chapter ending in vocabulary and study questions-, that and his parodies or satires are too obvious to me to be funny. The reason why The Basic Eight didn't work for me is because it was trying so hard to be funny, and it wasn't like Handler was breaking new comedic ground by making fun of Oprah Winfrey or talk show moralists. 

I think also I encountered this book at the wrong time. It's soon to be 20 years old and it feels every year. Oprah's not as big of a presence as she used to be, people don't freak out about drug use in teenagers the way they used to, and now our travelling moralists are more along the same lines as Al Sharpton. It's not yet old enough to become a charming relic of the late 90s, nor does it have a certain timeless quality that makes it transcend its age. 

I want to go back to the unfunniness of it, which is likely The Basic Eight's biggest flaw. This is a failed stand-up comic of a book, with every joke leaving me staring blankly at the screen of my iPad waiting for the punchline. I can see that Handler was going for a Heathers kind of feel to the novel, but the reason why that movie survived through the years is because it focuses on and draws its humor from a topic as timeless as mean girls in high school. If The Basic Eight had taken its cues from that, the book's satirical punches probably would have actually landed.

But take away the comedy and painfully dated drug references and what do you have? At its heart, a basic The Secret History-type storyline, complete with its checklist of characters. Or at least, it would have a character checklist if any of the other characters besides Flannery were fleshed out at all. One thing I noticed about all these The Secret History-type novels is that they miss the main thing that makes The Secret History work so well- its characters, and how well drawn and defined and developed they are. Most authors who try and write books like Tartt's seem to think that the mystery and the setting is why people loved the original, which is why they focus so much on that aspect and seem to regard their characters (besides the narrator) as being interchangeable vehicles meant to add ambiance. Which brings me to another point- these narrators have way too much to do with the plot. In The Secret History, Richard took a backseat to the story, and his character wasn't as important as Henry et al. In this book, Flannery takes the center stage, and by the end I couldn't tell Kate from Jennifer Rose. 

Despite writing all of this, I didn't really hate The Basic Eight. It just wasn't my kind of book, and, to be honest, I wish I had DNFed it instead of forcing myself to get through it. This is the kind of book its easier to understand what it did wrong than what it did right, and the best thing I can say in the book's favor is that it didn't piss me off enough for me to hate it. But if you really wanted to read it, don't let me stop you. I'm sure you'd like it more than I did.

5 out of 10

The Royal Circle Series by Katherine Longshore- Series Thoughts

The Royal Circle series is collection of companion novels each about a different girl in the Tudor age- a YA version of Phillipa Gregory's work if you will. Each main character is a real person- if fact, everyone's a real historical figure with the biggest connection between the each book being that they all follow Howards- Catherine Howard in the first book (though her rather dull servant girl Kitty narrates), Anne Boleyn in the second book, and Mary Fitzroy nee Howard in the third.

This series is very overwrought, and I can see why it's mostly out of print in America- though maybe not in the UK? I see a lot of British reviewers of this series on Goodreads. Really, the only book of this series that's all you need to read to get a feel of Katherine Longshore's writing is Gilt, as neither her characters nor her writing really progress the way you'd expect it to. Her character are all interchangeable and her writing is this bizarre mix of Old English and modern slang. 

Do I have a favorite character? Nope. I mean, in real life I'm kind of partial to Anne Boleyn, but in this series she wasn't really Anne Boleyn so I didn't really care about her.

What about favorite book? I suppose I like both Tarnish and Brazen better than Gilt at any rate, but I can't really pick a favorite. I guess I'll go with Brazen since it was the best written and most political of all her books.

I have kind of a nostalgic attachment to Gilt, though. It was, after all, the second book I reviewed on this blog and that means something to me. All in all though, I doubt I'll recommend these books to anyone, unless a person I know really loved The Luxe and is all about the Tudors. I will probably never reread any of these books. 

Gilt: 4.5-5 out of 10
Tarnish: 5 out of 10
Brazen: 5 out of 10

Overall Series Rating: 5 out of 10

Brazen by Katherine Longshore Review

WARNING: THERE MAY BE SPOILERS BELOW

“Love isn't making others into the people we imagine they should be. It's about letting people be themselves”- Brazen, Katherine Longshore

Mary Howard has always lived in the shadow of her powerful family. But when she’s married off to Henry Fitzroy, King Henry VIII’s illegitimate son, she rockets into the Tudor court’s inner circle. Mary and “Fitz” join a tight clique of rebels who test the boundaries of court’s strict rules with their games, dares, and flirtations. The more Mary gets to know Fitz, the harder she falls for him, but is forbidden from seeing him alone. The rules of court were made to be pushed…but pushing them too far means certain death. Is true love worth dying for?

When I said I was going to be tying up some loose ends in November, I didn't think I would be going this far back. I've been putting off this book since MARCH for God's sake. But I've been in the mood for a little historical fiction lately despite the fact that everything I pick up seems to be a mystery and this was the only available book on my shelf (besides The Revolution of Marina M, but I'm saving that one for December). I mean, the book's over 500 pages and Tarnish kind of put me off wanting to go anywhere near this series for a while.

But this is one of the few series I actually wanted to get to this year from start to finish, so better late then never, right? 

Brazen is probably the best written of all the Royal Circle books, which really isn't saying anything at all. Longshore still writes in that annoying half old English-half modern English way that really takes you out of Tudor England and puts you in, I don't know, a suburban high school. I'm also impressed with her ability to both overwrite and underwrite at the same time- that takes talent. She writes paragraphs that look pretty and sound very dramatic, but in reality end up meaning very little. Reading this book at times is like eating a piece of cake that's 80% frosting and 20% cake.

In Longshore's defense though, she does focus more on pure politics than she did in any of her other books. I liked those parts, even if I did think she had a tendency to overdramaticize things. Also, all of her heroines are different people and yet they all sound the same. Especially in the case of Tarnish and Brazen. I could not tell Anne in Tarnish from Mary in Brazen. They both have that strong, female historical fiction character thing going, and likely believe things that neither the real Anne Boleyn nor the real Mary Fitzroy probably actually gave much thought to. I think my main problem with Longshore's work is I think she romanticizes her subjects too much. She wants us to like them so badly, but in the end they just come across as, again, generic historical fiction females.

I also took a lot of issue with the dialogue. It's so overwrought, with every word laden with meaning that it drives me crazy. Especially in Anne and Mary's exchanges.

I get that Longshore wants to evoke The Tudors. I mean, when these books came out that show was one of the biggest things on TV, Phillipa Gregory was as big of a name here as she was in England, people couldn't get enough of 16th century England. Of course, The Tudors was a fairly ridiculous show and one I was never that into myself, but I suppose she's successful somewhat in invoking the not-so-historically based intrigue of the show. I'm happy I finally finished the Royal Circle series. I doubt I'll ever go back to this series, but it's something that needed to be done before the end of the year. I'll put up my Series Thoughts soon.

5 out of 10

Goodbye Days by Jeff Zentner Review

WARNING: THERE MAY BE SPOILERS BELOW

“Funny how people move through this world leaving little pieces of their story with the people they meet, for them to carry. Makes you wonder what'd happen if all those people put their puzzle pieces together.”- Goodbye Days, Jeff Zentner

What if you could spend one last day with someone you lost?

One day Carver Briggs had it all—three best friends, a supportive family, and a reputation as a talented writer at his high school, Nashville Academy for the Arts.

The next day he lost it all when he sent a simple text to his friend Mars, right before Mars, Eli, and Blake were killed in a car crash.

Now Carver can’t stop blaming himself for the accident, and he’s not the only one. Eli’s twin sister is trying to freeze him out of school with her death-ray stare. And Mars’s father, a powerful judge, is pressuring the district attorney to open a criminal investigation into Carver’s actions.

Luckily, Carver has some unexpected allies: Eli’s girlfriend, the only person to stand by him at school; Dr. Mendez, his new therapist; and Blake’s grandmother, who asks Carver to spend a Goodbye Day with her to share their memories and say a proper goodbye to his friend.

Soon the other families are asking for a Goodbye Day with Carver, but he’s unsure of their motives. Will they all be able to make peace with their losses, or will these Goodbye Days bring Carver one step closer to a complete breakdown or—even worse—prison?

This is a fine book. Getting that out of the way right now because the more I talk about it the more I may convince you that I really didn't like it, when I did. It wasn't my favorite book ever, but it was enjoyable enough. 

I kept forgetting that it was written by Jeff Zentner, especially since this is basically a long Adam Silvera book. The characters, the writing style, all very Adam Silvera-y. I like Adam Silvera, don't get me wrong, but he's not my favorite YA contemporary writer and his books are typically on the younger side of YA. Still, better him than Becky Albertalli or John Green. 

Plotwise, the book reminds me a ton of The Lies About Truth, what with the car accident and the main character blaming himself for the death of his friends like how Sadie blamed herself for the death of Trent, as well as similar musings about God and forgiveness. Which I liked, especially given that The Lies About Truth was one of my favorite books of last year.

My biggest issue with Goodbye Days is the amount of cringe that it's in the book, mostly surrounding Jessmyn and Carver. I had such a hard time with their parts because, well, they reminded me of that Diversity Day episode of The Office that was basically unwatchable to me because I dislike that particular brand of cringe comedy. I also felt strange about the way Zentner introduced diversity to the story, like he had to get that out of the way before he could start to flesh out his characters. The first time we meet Jessmyn, she comments about her "Filipino genes", which struck me as a very odd thing to say to someone. And in casual conversation she keeps bringing up the fact that she's Asian, usually in really awkward places and, frankly, every time she showed up in a chapter or whatever I went into skim mode because their conversations made me super uncomfortable. I also thought Georgia's interactions in the beginning with Dr Mendez were really awkward because she is only there to inform us of his husband and children, the whole conversation coming across as when Barney from How I Met Your Mother introduced his brother James as being his gay black brother, though not nearly as enjoyably awkward as that scene. 

Also, the writing was pretty inconsistent. I loved the way certain parts were written, usually the sentences right before the chapter ends and Zentner tries to channel Cormac McCarthy, with short, beautiful sentences that hit hard. The rest of the book was okay, but very much a YA novel with teenspeak and lots of often gratuitous swearing. The really pretty parts felt like a tease, because if that's how he can write why doesn't he write the entire book like that? Because, take away those parts, and you have a book that could have been written by any of the recent YA hit writers, from Nicola Yoon to Becky Albertalli to Adam Silvera.

I also wish we got some of Carver's writing, because apparently he writes a lot of "dark Southern stuff." But then I'd probably wish that Zentner just wrote a Southern Gothic novel because if there's any literary movement that needs a revival, it's that one. Get your Faulkner on, dude!

Happily, Goodbye Days isn't as anvilicious, to borrow a TV Tropes term, as I thought it would be. It's actually more of a subtle take on texting and driving as I thought it would be, even if I did think it was kind of a stretch to go the potential prosecution route for Carver, especially when it didn't go anywhere. I also took issue with the comparing of the case to the one of the girl who convinced her best friend to kill himself, because it's like comparing apples to oranges. Carver didn't know that his text would cause a car accident, whereas that girl sure as hell knew her texts would cause that kid to kill himself (and who the fuck does, anyway?). 

I also did like some of the characters. I liked Carver and the rest of the... Sauce Crew... just fine, but my two favorite characters besides them were Nana Betsy and, surprisingly, Judge Edwards. Both the pain shown by those characters was done very well, contrasted with Eli's family who wasn't all that well developed. It would have been nice for Adair or Eli's parents to get that same moment of redemption even Judge Edwards got in the end.

The ending was also really nice, and even brought a few tears misting the edges of my eyes. The ending made the book, really.

So, I did enjoy it. It's not my favorite book I've ever read, not even among the best YA I read this year. It's a solid contemporary, just not that original and kind of replaceable. I don't know if I'll ever read The Serpent King, but I'm happy with having read this book, even if I never read anything else by Jeff Zentner. Of course, if he ever gets bored with this YA contemporary stuff and decides to become the Carlos Ruiz Zafon of Southern Gothic, I will be all over that.

7.5-8 out of 10

The Midnight Dance by Nikki Katz Review

WARNING: THERE MAY BE SPOILERS BELOW

“Someone stands behind me... a deep breath near my ear... cold fingers brush the skin of my bare shoulder and pull my braid to the side... a soft touch of lips on my neck... followed by both hands circling like a noose... fingers reach to nudge my chin up... a whisper... 'stand proud, darling, you're mine, always mine.'”- The Midnight Dance, Nikki Katz

When the music stops, the dance begins.

Seventeen-year-old Penny is a lead dancer at the Grande Teatro, a finishing school where she and eleven other young women are training to become the finest ballerinas in Italy. Tucked deep into the woods, the school is overseen by the mysterious and handsome young Master who keeps the girls ensconced in the estate – and in the only life Penny has never known.

But when flashes of memories, memories of a life very different from the one she thinks she’s been leading, start to appear, Penny begins to question the Grand Teatro and the motivations of the Master. With a kind and attractive kitchen boy, Cricket, at her side, Penny vows to escape the confines of her school and the strict rules that dictate every step she takes. But at every turn, the Master finds a way to stop her, and Penny must find a way to escape the school and uncover the secrets of her past before it’s too late.

Last year, one of the books I was looking forward to the most was a book called Glitter by Aprilynne Pike, purely because the plot sounded so awesome (and the cover was absolutely gorgeous) I couldn't bring myself to pass it up. Nikki Katz's The Midnight Dance reminds me of that book. Both books are basically uncategorizable. I mean, Glitter is a science-fiction-y futuristic novel with both fantastical and historical elements. The Midnight Dance is steampunk-y, kinda historical fiction with some thriller elements thrown in there, too. The difference between the two books is that with Glitter, I knew what I was getting myself into. With The Midnight Dance, I thought it was a contemporary with an added thriller aspect, because that's what Goodreads led me to believe. So it was a shock when the first chapter started out with 1859 under chapter heading. And I was even more surprised when the main narrative opened in the year 1879. Wait, is this historical fiction? I said to myself, pleasantly surprised. I mean, sure, it was Victorian historical fiction, which admittedly isn't my favorite thing ever, but any historical elements added to a story always makes it better (so says the history major). 

Which made it all the more disappointing when there was very little historical fiction parts at all. Katz has this very abstract, likely fairy-tale influenced view of the 19th century and it's apparent in the book. I mean, if you're going to set your book in a time period other than the present, at least do some goddamn research. Not only that, she gave us a specific place and time, which was Italy. Italy during the years 1859-1879. And yet, not one mention of the Italian unification, lasting from 1848 to 1871. There were also lots of abstract descriptions of things like dresses and mentions of courts, and even a ridiculously attractive Prince showing up, Prince Jacobus (there was never a Prince Jacobus of Italy; that's not even an Italian name), and it was around that part that I thought maybe this was a retelling of... something. The Twelve Dancing Princesses, maybe? But that might be a reach, especially because of how little the bare bones of both stories have in common. But there is a fairy-tale quality to the book, albeit a very manufactured one.

The main issue with the book, though, is not the historical yet lack of historicalness setting, it's the characters. They aren't very good, for starters. There was a sort of specialness of Penny that I hated, and both her and Cricket bogged down the plot greatly. They just weren't all that likable or even interesting. Also, just a little nitpick, but Penny's name annoyed me from the get go. Penny's not an Italian name. Penelope's not even an Italian name. You couldn't even pronounce it in Italian, or at least not easily. Peh-neh-lo-peh (four years of high school Italian, baby). Her name stuck out to me, especially since most of the characters had traditional Italian names- Bianca, Maria, Cecilia, Nella, even Tatiana (Ana is close to a proper Italian name, but it should be Anna). Yes, I think about things like this. I don't have a social life.

There's also very little about ballet in here. Which is disappointing to say the least. I love reading about ballet. Also, the only Italian bit besides the setting is the food, which seems lazy and stereotypical.

I suppose that if this book is anything, it's steampunk. Of course, I could be way off the mark here since the closest I've ever come to steampunk is reading, yes, my beloved Marina, but the plot is pretty close to what I imagine steampunk to be, with a Victorian setting and Bioshock-like "body horror" (it's tame stuff, though). In fact, it reminded me of this middle grade horror novel I read last year called Broken Dolls. But at the same time, it doesn't embrace its steampunkness like the above books did. It doesn't go the extra mile to craft what could be a great, spooky, Gothic horror novel just in time for Halloween. I mean, the plot is just screaming for some like Carlos Ruiz Zafon to get a hold of it. In case you can't tell, I'm imagining Marina in an Italian ballet school and it's wonderful. Instead, Katz attempts to keep the book ground in reality, but not in a way that works in its favor. In the end, I couldn't suspend my disbelief enough to get into the story, the way I could for books like Marina or even Glitter. Instead, I kept questioning things, like why Tatiana's hair was blue (the explanation is priceless: apparently, Tatiana needed a lung replacement and that turned her hair blue. Someone, please tell me that's actually a thing). 

The pacing felt off, too. I never thought I would say this but this should have been a slow-burn of a book. It should have started out a lot slower, maybe made it so Penny didn't stick out right away as the girl who was different from all the other girls, the one who hated pink and ballet and rebelled against the system. As is, the book felt kind of juvenile. 

In the end, The Midnight Dance is one of those books where I didn't hate it, but it didn't know what it was or what it wanted to be. A steampunk horror novel? A retelling of The Twelve Dancing Princesses? Historical fiction? A thriller? It's not nearly trashy enough to be as guilty pleasure fun as Glitter was and it's not well written enough to be a Marina-esque Gothic novel. It wasn't even enjoyably bad enough to be another Violet Grenade, another book that blends fantasy elements with a real world thriller novel. I wasn't as hard on the book as I might have been a month ago, but I don't think I'd reread it any time soon.

4.5 out of 10

If you liked this book, you may also like:

Glitter by Aprilynne Pike

Marina by Carlos Ruiz Zafon

Broken Dolls by Tyrolin Puxty

Belle Epoque by Elizabeth Ross Review

WARNING: THERE MAY BE SPOILERS BELOW

“In taking that photograph, I understood something I will never forget: how I wished to arrest all the beauty that came before me. Not the classical beauty of symmetry and exact proportions or the fancy of fashion, which is ever-changing with the seasons, but the beauty of a soul, that inner life that reveals itself so seldom, just for an instant, and only if you look closely and learn to see with an open heart.”- Belle Epoque, Elizabeth Ross

When Maude Pichon runs away from provincial Brittany to Paris, her romantic dreams vanish as quickly as her savings. Desperate for work, she answers an unusual ad. The Durandeau Agency provides its clients with a unique service—the beauty foil. Hire a plain friend and become instantly more attractive. 

Monsieur Durandeau has made a fortune from wealthy socialites, and when the Countess Dubern needs a companion for her headstrong daughter, Isabelle, Maude is deemed the perfect foil.

But Isabelle has no idea her new "friend" is the hired help, and Maude's very existence among the aristocracy hinges on her keeping the truth a secret. Yet the more she learns about Isabelle, the more her loyalty is tested. And the longer her deception continues, the more she has to lose.

There are three types of YA historical fiction. The first type is the relatively straightforward and serious type, usually dealing with WWII or racism or both in some way. Ruta Sepetys and Elizabeth Wein are probably the two most popular authors of this type. The second type is the fantasy novels that people accidentally shelf as historical fiction because they take place in past (this includes alternative history and time travel novels though I admit that they have more of an excuse). This type appears to be the norm these days (just take a look at the 2018 YA "historical fiction" releases), with authors like Libba Bray and Kirsten White. And then, there's the fun, fluffy guilty pleasure historical fiction novels. Anna Godbersen and Katherine Longshore are two writers I associate with this category.

I'll give you three guesses as to which type this book falls under.

I read this book knowing that it would be something along the same lines as The Luxe, maybe Bright Young Things if I was lucky, which admittedly I never am but still. This wouldn't be high brow literature but instead a juicy, Gossip Girl-esque look into the Belle Epoque, one of my favorite eras in history. 

And still, I was disappointed by the amount of historical fiction tropes. The heroine running from the arranged marriage. The wealthy girl trapped in a gilded cage, whose only desire is to study science and eschew marriage and fashion. The bohemian (and usually socialist, strange) journalist/poet/artist/musician love interest. The endless amounts of frivolous wealthy girls. I usually take issue with these tropes not only because of how tired and played out and pandery they are but also because how almost offensive they seem. I dislike the dismissing of an interest in fashion and beauty as being superficial and frivolous because it is indeed possible to love fashion and not be an idiot. I also disliked how this book seemed to deride social skills in favor of general intelligence, something I often see in YA literature and something I disagree with. And I say that as someone who is (or at least considers herself to be) fairly intelligent yet who is a fish out of water when it comes to socializing. In fact, in a lot of ways I found the Countess to be smarter than Isabelle because she had her society figured out, she knew her place in it and she knew her life would be easier if she was able to change her place in it. I also thought she really just wanted what all mothers want for their children- a better life than they had. 

I also thought some elements were too old fashioned for the time period. Ross made the Belle Epoque, which was roughly around the same time as the turn of the century, seem like it was the Elizabethan days. By the time of the Belle Epoque, the idea of romance marriages had become a thing and arranged marriages, especially a young girl to an older men, were out of fashion because when you are a peasant, does it really matter who your children marry? I mean, sure, there were some exceptions like in Jewish communities with matchmakers and some other more old fashioned countries, but this is France we're talking about, they've always been the (socially, at least) liberal beacon of Europe. And I wasn't entirely sold on the narrative because it felt too modern, though maybe because I was subconsciously comparing it to The Luxe- say what you will about that series, but Godbersen did endeavor to write those books in a style reminiscent of the time they took place and was even successful. One phrase sticks out to me- when Maude describes her experience at the agency as being like the "new girl in school" something that seemed very modern and made me think Ross isn't even trying. 

There was also a lot of what I like to call "wink-wink nudge-nudge" dialogue, mostly surrounding the construction of the Eiffel Tower. For some reason, historical fiction authors often take great delight in having characters, usually the ones we are supposed to think of as being bad, talk about how ugly and horrible something is that is still around in today's world but was thought new back then. The "good" characters will usually defend this new thing. Like if a person in the 1860s starts talking about how cameras, for instance, will never catch on and people will go back to painters soon enough. I dislike this stuff because it seems to solely exist just to make the good characters seem so much better and more enlightened than the bad characters. 

Interestingly enough, there were many descriptions of clothing, but I had a hard time picturing any of the dresses, which is strange because the Belle Epoque is one of my favorite fashion eras.

The ending is also one of those everything works out endings. But I couldn't really be too bothered by it because this is fairly typical YA historical fiction and for some reason that genre takes issue with books like this ending the way they probably would have in actuality. 

I didn't hate this book. Sure, it wasn't really anything special and it wasn't nearly as good as what the summary might have lead us to believe but it was easy to read and decent enough brain candy. It strikes me as kind of a discount Anna Godbersen book, though not as boring as a Katherine Longshore novel. Read it if you have exhausted both The Luxe and Bright Young Things and you just want a fun little afternoon in Belle Epoque France.

5 out of 10

Putting Makeup on Dead People by Jen Violi Review

WARNING: THERE MAY BE SPOILERS BELOW

“My heart broke when he died, split in half and fell down into my stomach or somewhere deep and muddy, and I'm still not sure where it is now. I hear it beating sometimes in my ears, or feel its fast pulse in my neck, like I do now; but in my chest, where it should be, it mostly just feels empty.”- Putting Makeup on Dead People, Jen Violi

In the spring of her senior year, Donna Parisi finds new life in an unexpected place: a coffin. 

Since her father's death four years ago, Donna has gone through the motions of living: her friendships are empty, she's clueless about what to do after high school graduation, and her grief keeps her isolated, cut off even from the one parent she has left. That is until she's standing in front of the dead body of a classmate at Brighton Brothers' Funeral Home. At that moment, Donna realizes what might just give her life purpose is comforting others in death. That maybe who she really wants to be is a mortician. 

This discovery sets in motion a life Donna never imagined was possible. She befriends a charismatic new student, Liz, notices a boy, Charlie, and realizes that maybe he's been noticing her, too, and finds herself trying things she hadn't dreamed of trying before. By taking risks, Donna comes into her own, diving into her mortuary studies with a passion and skill she didn't know she had in her. And she finally understands that moving forward doesn't mean forgetting someone you love.

Jen Violi's heartfelt and funny debut novel is a story of transformation-how one girl learns to grieve and say goodbye, turn loss into a gift, and let herself be exceptional...at loving, applying lipstick to corpses, and finding life in the wake of death.

I actually attempted reading this book a few years ago but didn't get far with it- the book and I didn't quite click for some reason. I put it back on my radar because of the funeral home lit mini series I'm doing and this novel is considered a staple of that micro-genre (there's going to be one more book added to this series for sure, and I'm debating on whether or not to write a full review for The Loved One. Let me know if that's something you'd be interested in. I also have a nonfiction companion book coming that I will read and write a review for). 

Unfortunately, I'm afraid my original attitude towards Putting Makeup on Dead People was correct. This book and I just don't click. The thing is, I don't know if it's me or not. There's a certain something about the book that makes me turned off by it, a lack of subtlety or a certain... unrealisticness and this teenage wish-fulfillment quality that made me think Violi wished she had a best friend like Liz or a pair of handsome crunchy granola bars after her when she was a teenager. Donna felt like a book character, and did things that can only happen in the book world, like apply to mortuary science in the spring of her senior year and get in for the fall semester. Donna also wasn't a particularly proactive main character and it made it hard for me to like her as a main character. Liz just goes up to her and decided they were going to be best friends, Charlie just happened to have a crush on her, Tim just happened to like her, etc. Hell, even JB just happened to go up to her and talk about being a mortician. And that's all she apparently needed to want to become a mortician! She just decided to become one, without talking to anyone or even really thinking through the idea and taking the time to decide whether or not that's really want she wanted to do with her life. Hell, she didn't even talk to her family about it, the people who are presumably paying for this school. 

There was a certain shallowness that overwhelmed the novel. None of the central conflicts or relationships felt anything but skin deep. Like her getting mad at her mother for dating again after her father's been dead for four years (her mother had quite the heel-face turn already, I mean she just decided to go to yoga one day and changed basically overnight). That should be a big, emotional moment, and while she does stop talking to her mom for some time, I can't feel any of the emotion behind it. Same with Donna's relationships with Tim and Charlie or Liz or basically anyone.

The best parts were hands down the parts involving Donna's job at the funeral home. They were interesting to read about and should be the focal point of the novel, but ironically enough, for a book that's literally called Putting Makeup on Dead People there's very little of her actually doing her job. Instead, most of the book is taken up by her spiritual journey or love life or family life, none of which I want to read about. It would be one thing if I was told to expect that in the synopsis, but I wasn't, and it wasn't like the spiritual/love/family stuff was a direct result of her funeral home job. No, it had more to do with her friendship with Liz than anything else, which made me think that Violi tried to combine two books in one, except one was an almost complete novel and the other was a story idea she scribbled on an old napkin. 

I will say this, though, I really liked the final page of the book. I was unimpressed with Violi's writing style for the most part- it read like a "book" I would find on Wattpad and the sense of humor is nonexistent- but the ending was really pretty and reminded me a bit of the wonderful ending to We, the Drowned.

So, unfortunately it turns out that 2014 Laura was indeed correct and this book and I don't click. As a funeral home novel it's very underwhelming, as a regular YA book it's fairly typical and on the shallow side. It doesn't do anything bad enough to fail at either of those things, but it doesn't do anything particularly well either. It's a basic YA novel. I admit, I did give it a bit of a higher score than it probably deserved because, again I liked the ending and the funeral home parts, but other than that I'd advise you to skip this novel. Read The Dead I Know or The Boy in the Black Suit instead for the same basic idea but better.

5 out of 10 

The Darkest Corners by Kara Thomas Review

WARNING: THERE MAY BE SPOILERS BELOW

“I always assumed that the doubt would destroy me. But know I wonder if it's the opposite of doubt that's the dangerous thing - if instead, it's the things we're so sure of that have the power to undo us.”- The Darkest Corners, Kara Thomas

The Darkest Corners is a psychological thriller about the lies little girls tell, and the deadly truths those lies become.

There are ghosts around every corner in Fayette, Pennsylvania. Tessa left when she was nine and has been trying ever since not to think about it after what happened there that last summer. Memories of things so dark will burn themselves into your mind if you let them.

Callie never left. She moved to another house, so she doesn’t have to walk those same halls, but then Callie always was the stronger one. She can handle staring into the faces of her demons—and if she parties hard enough, maybe one day they’ll disappear for good.

Tessa and Callie have never talked about what they saw that night. After the trial, Callie drifted and Tessa moved, and childhood friends just have a way of losing touch.

But ever since she left, Tessa has had questions. Things have never quite added up. And now she has to go back to Fayette—to Wyatt Stokes, sitting on death row; to Lori Cawley, Callie’s dead cousin; and to the one other person who may be hiding the truth.

Only the closer Tessa gets to the truth, the closer she gets to a killer—and this time, it won’t be so easy to run away.

After reading Little Monsters, I was impressed by Kara Thomas' talent, even though it was only her second novel. She wrote a realistic-seeming (by realistic I mean no super-amazing kid detectives) YA mystery novel that kept me on my toes and took risks that ultimately paid off. And even though it was fairly obvious who one of the people involved was, it was fun to try and figure out who the other person was. So I was excited to read The Darkest Corners and see if Kara Thomas would become a new favorite author.

An aside: I wouldn't really call this book a psychological thriller. Or really any of the stuff in that first part. Those are minor aspects if anything.

And, well, I'm conflicted now. Because this book wasn't as good as Little Monsters. It felt much more like a typical YA mystery novel with typical YA mystery features- the tough and intrepid young detective (her tough, "bitchy" front felt tired and put on), the redneck and almost abandoned small town- though it was cool it was set near Pittsburgh and focused around mill towns (Pittsburgh's a really cool little city, by the way, it's a great place to stop for a couple days on a road trip- the Andy Warhol museum is a must see), the innocent man in jail because the cops fucked up his case, etc. 

Another aside: I always wonder how all these teenagers always get so involved in solving cases of serial killers and the like, personally, even if my best friend dies I probably wouldn't get too wrapped up in actively trying to solve the case. I'd follow it, yes, but I'd be in wayyy over my head if I tried to get involved in the investigation. At some parts Tessa is literately talking about suspects and gathering clues and putting together patterns that even the FBI couldn't like she's Nancy fucking Drew. It's like those armchair detectives on true crime internet forums who have way too much time on their hands. I don't get it. 

I sound like I really hate this book and I don't. It's just not really anything special. In fact, it reminded me a lot of Gillian Flynn's Dark Places, strangely enough, and does have that same messy quality, like Thomas is trying to do too much with the book. She should have picked one thing to focus on, the murder of Lori Cawley instead of both trying to find out the real Ohio River Monster and the person who really did kill Lori Cawley. As it was now, it was way too convenient, that she happened to be in town when the Ohio River Monster happened to strike again- after what, 8 years?- and killed the girl who happened to be an old childhood friend. Come on now. That's not even factoring in the fact that she happened to solve both crimes.

It was hard for me to stick with this book all the way until the end, but I admit, the ending paid off and made me wish Thomas had just focused on one case. It was fun and action-packed and interesting, even if I did have to suspend my disbelief. That seems to be the main thing about enjoying this particular novel- don't expect anything realistic, because this book is very far from reality. I mean, as much as I liked the ending, it kind of came out of nowhere and seemed awfully, again, convenient. 

So, as much as I found this book to be okay, I still thought it was fairly well written, and that Thomas does have some grip on how to write a mystery. And it was her debut, and I already know she can do great things. Hopefully Little Monsters wasn't just a fluke thing and Kara Thomas continues to be the answer to my YA mystery prayers.

7 out of 10

The Boy in the Black Suit by Jason Reynolds Review

WARNING: THERE MAY BE SPOILERS BELOW

“...death isn't bad. It's not. It's just that life is so good. So damn good that you just wanna hold on to it, and everybody in it. But we can't. But what we can do, is appreciate it more. Y'know, smell the flowers.”- The Boy in the Black Suit, Jason Reynolds

Just when seventeen-year-old Matt thinks he can’t handle one more piece of terrible news, he meets a girl who’s dealt with a lot more—and who just might be able to clue him in on how to rise up when life keeps knocking him down—in this wry, gritty novel from the author of When I Was the Greatest.

Matt wears a black suit every day. No, not because his mom died—although she did, and it sucks. But he wears the suit for his gig at the local funeral home, which pays way better than the Cluck Bucket, and he needs the income since his dad can’t handle the bills (or anything, really) on his own. So while Dad’s snagging bottles of whiskey, Matt’s snagging fifteen bucks an hour. Not bad. But everything else? Not good. Then Matt meets Lovey. She’s got a crazy name, and she’s been through more crazy than he can imagine. Yet Lovey never cries. She’s tough. Really tough. Tough in the way Matt wishes he could be. Which is maybe why he’s drawn to her, and definitely why he can’t seem to shake her. Because there’s nothing more hopeful than finding a person who understands your loneliness—and who can maybe even help take it away.

First of all: Happy Friday the Thirteenth! Let's celebrate with another funeral home book, this time another reread from last year, The Boy in the Black Suit.

The interesting thing about The Boy in the Black Suit is that, even though it's a funeral home book, it's the one least about funeral home matters. Sure, there are bits about being a pallbearer, snippets from actual funerals, and the like, but unlike The Dead I Know, for instance, Matt doesn't go on calls to pick up dead bodies or have to dress them for their funerals. It's like funeral lite in that respect. 

Still, that doesn't mean that I don't really like this book. Matt is such a great main character to follow around. He's a kid that was certainly after my own heart, with his cooking and honesty and all that. Also, Reynolds has a keen understanding of what it's like to be a teenage boy. Admittedly, I've never been a teenage boy, but the things Matt does and his reactions just strike me as being very realistic. One of my favorite examples of this is when he goes over Lovey's house for Thanksgiving expecting a date and she takes him to the homeless shelter instead. He doesn't immediately warm up to the idea and yes, he is even a little upset that she didn't tell him they were going there in the first place. The Right Thing to Do would be to be happy at the idea of giving back on Thanksgiving, but honestly, what teenage boy would be excited about the idea of spending his Thanksgiving at a soup kitchen, especially when he was under the impression he would be on a one-on-one date with a pretty girl? Sure, Matt warmed up to the idea, but everyone probably would, too.

Also, like most teenagers, Matt is aware of what other people think of him, which is another great touch. I see a lot of authors who get praised for being able to get inside the mind of a high schooler, but Reynolds is one of the most successful at it.

The writing is pretty wonderful too. It's written in this New York black patois, which really puts Matt's voice in my head. The book has this conversational tone that makes me feel like I'm having a conversation with Matt and I love that. It makes me feel closer to him as a character without the author telling us a ton of exposition.

If I had to choose some points of criticism, it would be that in some parts it feels a bit juvenile or shallow, like in some of the parts where Matt is grieving his mother. I also wish the book didn't time skip so much, and a couple of the things that happened felt a bit contrived. That seems like a lot of stuff wrong with the book, but honestly, reading it is so much fun that it's easy to ignore that and just enjoy the story.

I also really wish there were more funerals in the book. Those were my favorite parts to read. Also, I kind of wish there was more about the funeral home itself, given that I know very little about the inner workings of inner city funeral homes. Being from New England Suburbia I'm used to the white vaguely-Colonial funeral homes with black trim and WASP-y sounding names written in somber font on the sign in front. I would be interested to know how Willie ran his home.

When I reread this my new rating actually went up from my old rating. This is definitely an 8.5 out of 10 now. I would recommend this book for someone who's maybe a little more squeamish so doesn't want to jump in with The Dead I Know, but someone who wants a little book with a lot of heart, which is corny but the best way to describe it. While I do prefer the former, this one is a close second.

8.5 out of 10 (old rating: 8 out of 10)

Things I'm Seeing Without You by Peter Bognanni Review

WARNING: THERE MAY BE SPOILERS BELOW

“I'm scared of living my short short life wrong in every possible way. I'm scared I've already made so many mistakes and I don't have enough time to fix them.”- Things I'm Seeing Without You, Peter Bognanni

Seventeen-year-old Tess Fowler has just dropped out of high school. She can barely function after learning of Jonah’s death. Jonah, the boy she’d traded banter with over texts and heartfelt e-mails.

Jonah, the first boy she'd told she loved and the first boy to say it back. 

Jonah, the boy whose suicide she never saw coming. 

Tess continues to write to Jonah, as a way of processing her grief and confusion. But for now she finds solace in perhaps the unlikeliest of ways: by helping her father with his new alternative funeral business, where his biggest client is . . . a prized racehorse?

As Tess’s involvement in her father’s business grows, both find comfort in the clients they serve and in each other. But love, loss, and life are so much more complicated than Tess ever thought. Especially after she receives a message that turns her life upside down.

I cannot believe that this book was written by the same guy that gave us The House of Tomorrow. Just. How.

I guess he realized that well-written, unique, and literary YA novels weren't great money makers so he decided to become another discount John Green. Guess it's unfortunate for him that this was the year Green broke his five year writing hiatus with Turtles All the Way Down coming this very month actually (no, I'm not going to read it because my masochistic tendencies are just that- tendencies). 

The main reason why I wanted to read this book was because I stumbled upon it after reading The House of Tomorrow and decided, eh, what the hell. I was initially a little turned off by The Fault in Our Stars comparison, but figured that he would surpass my expectations the same way his debut did. And the funeral home angle. Yes.

Things I'm Seeing Without You is basically your typical YA quirky teen book with a certain falseness to it. Our main character Tess Fowler reminds me of other quirky teenage girl protagonists that are clearly written by male authors, like HazelGraceLancaster or Mary. Iris. Malone. Look okay, many male authors write really great female protagonists, in fact, I think men write teenage girls better then women write teenage guys as a whole, but in this case, it was obvious that Bognanni has no experience with teenage girls other than from books like Mosquitoland. 

While it is true that the summary is very... John-Greenish... I wasn't too turned off by it because again, I was going on my prior Bognanni experience with The House of Tomorrow, and that novel may have had a very unusual even quirky setting and premise yet ended up being done very well. It didn't work nearly as well here. Instead, it just came off as being a bit too try-hard, with the Quaker School and the whole constantly talking about pot and just the character of Tess. Also, her online boyfriend was a bit too much like a John Green boyfriend, with the whole calling Tess by her first and last names.

There were a lot of throwaway moments like the actual funerals- I wonder if Bognanni kept changing his mind as to what book he wanted to write and just kept adding to it. In fact, I wished that Bognanni just focused on one thing, because certain parts made me feel like I was reading a book that was crafted from a story told by a little kid- And then they have a funeral for a horse! And then then an old lady hires them for a living funeral! But wait, the old lady dies in a freak accident so it turns into an actual funeral! And then.. and then... That kind of aimlessness that is frustrating to read, not because it's complex but because the author is forced to rely on a lot of contrivances to write his way out of the story arc he decided to abandon.

Also, what is up with this new trope of teenage characters just hopping on a plane without the parents' knowing? I hate it (fuck you Everything Everything for that I guess). It's unrealistic and irresponsible on the part of the teen and just idiotic. It's like a symbol of the impulsive selfishness that makes people hate teenagers. That's a bit dramatic but that's how much I hate this trope.

So is there anything I did like about this book? It's decently written. The meditations on grief were, while cliche and typical for a YA funeral home book or just one on grief in general, decent enough. It had some really great descriptions of Italy. And despite my bitching about the many different plotlines, I did kind of like the realisticness of how not everything ever works out. Likely it was the only realistic thing about the book. 

I mean, it was one of the better The Fault in Our Stars knock-offs. I'd put this book in the same place as The Invisible Life of Ivan Isaenko. I didn't love it, but in comparison to other John Greenish books like Mosquitoland or All the Bright Places I didn't want to throw this book off a cliff. As far as funeral home books go, I'd skip this or at least put this on least priority list. It's not on par with books like The Dead I Know or The Boy in the Black Suit (review coming soon btw). Another disappointing new release.

5 out of 10

If you liked this book, you may also like:

The Invisible Life of Ivan Isaenko by Scott Stambach

All the Bright Places by Jennifer Niven

Every Exquisite Thing by Matthew Quick
The Fault in Our Stars by John Green

The Dead I Know by Scot Gardner Review

WARNING: THERE MAY BE SPOILERS BELOW

“There was the unknown, the dark, the cold and the emptiness to contend with out there, but those concepts are all relative. Cold compared to what? A dead hand? Dark compared to what? Unblinking eyes? At times the ocean seemed full beside my emptiness. At times it was the one knowable thing in my world.”- The Dead I Know, Scot Gardner

Aaron Rowe walks in his sleep and haunted by dreams he can’t explain and memories he can’t recover. Death doesn’t scare him—his new job with a funeral director may even be his salvation. But if he doesn’t discover the truth about his hidden past soon, he may fall asleep one night and never wake up. In this dark and witty psychological drama about survival, Aaron finds that making peace with the dead may be easier than coming to terms with the living.

This is a reread for me, and I wasn't going to write a whole review for it until I read another book about funeral homes that I was looking forward to read and was struck by an idea. One of my favorite things to read about are funeral homes and the whole death business. So, I decided that it would be fun to do a mini series of reviews on my blog in which I reviewed several books on funeral homes. I will be focusing on fiction, and probably mostly YA but I might include one or two adult novels- one of those books may or may not be The Loved One. So, here is my first entry- The Dead I Know by Scot Gardner.

The Dead I Know is one of the darker entries in the YA funeral home lit list with a very horror movie-esque plot despite the fact that the book is not a horror novel. Our main character, Aaron Rowe, is a sleepwalker, dealing with his Mam's growing dementia and also the nightmares that have been plaguing him since he was a young boy. So naturally, he takes a job- more like paid apprenticeship- at a funeral home. Sound logic, that.

When I was thinking of a word to describe the writing, quiet came to mind. This is almost ironic, given how much happens in such a short book, but Gardner does not rely on dialogue or other ways of explicitly stating things that have happened to move the plot along. Instead, it's very action-based with a lot of things shown to us. Surprising, because there are at least 3 separate plot lines going on in this short little novel. There's the funeral home, then there's the sleepwalking, then there's the dementia, and then there's the money stealing thing which probably was the least useful of all of them and had an unsatisfactory conclusion. 

The best thing about this book is Aaron Rowe. Though maybe I'm just saying that because I developed something of a crush on him. He's just really endearing, with the way he acts around Mam or Skye or John Barton. He's one of those characters with a lot of personality just through the way he speaks and acts. 

This is one of my favorite books in retrospect from 2016, and in hindsight perhaps some of the later entries on my list probably should have been substituted for this one and Burial Rites. Because this book isn't for everyone. The humor is dark, the funeral home parts are detailed and even on the explicit side for some people, and there's a lot going on for such a quiet book. But this is one of those few novels that just work for me. Almost everything about it works really well, and it's a staple novel for anyone who wants to get into the Death Business YA microtrend. 

8.5 out of 10 (reread)