Tag: young adult

For the Love of Books #38

Summer is in full swing in the UK, which means WorldCon will soon be here. I’m looking forward to tuning in and taking part in virtual panels, and for a big dose of inspiration. In the meantime, in contrast to sun, sea and sand, two brooding and atmospheric reads doing what young adult fiction does best, telling big stories in short novels dealing with coming of age traumas, grief, and what to do when your sister turns into a zombie. I highly recommend both for all ages.

The Migration, by Helen Marshall

The Migration is a dark and inventive apocalyptic novel, driven by defiant hope. In the face of climate catastrophe, as storms and floods ravage the world, a mysterious juvenile immunodeficiency disorder called J12 begins afflicting the young. When Sophie’s younger sister, Kira, is diagnosed, the girls are taken to Oxford to live with Aunt Irene, who works with a centre specialising in treating the illness. Sophie learns about various therapies used to treat the afflicted, but Kira’s immune system is attacking her brain and she is deteriorating, revealing a strange twist in her mouth, and an odd look in her eyes. Finally the hospital pronounce Kira dead. But Sophie knows that the dead aren’t staying dead. While the state are burning bodies of the young, Sophie vows to find a way to save her sister’s body from the pyre. But at what cost?

This was a compelling read. The science behind the strange disorder was intriguing and felt believable. The main character, Sophie, was fully fleshed and relatable, as was the multi-faceted sibling relationship, which brought Kira to life despite her zombie state. In truly cataclysmic circumstances, Sophie faces mortality, grief, danger and loss, at a time of life when she has so much to live for. The love she has for her sister is her motivation, not willing to let go against all the odds, alongside a developing understanding of the big questions: death, the afterlife, and the connections between famine, plague, and ecological changes. I particularly enjoyed the well-thought out and intriguing reveal, fusing fantasy with science, told with humanity that doesn’t shy away from the gritty realities. There is also a tender reveal of the power of the human heart, alongside an intelligently woven kaleidoscope of biology, history, and transformation.

A Monster Calls, by Patrick Ness

13-year-old Conor desperately wants to believe that everything is fine. Following his mum and dad’s divorce, he lives alone with his mum, who is sick. Ever since she first fell ill, Conor has suffered nightmares, which worsen, and culminate in a strange visitor appearing at his bedroom window. This ancient, elemental force of nature begins a conversation of stories, but can they unravel the turmoil of Conor’s complicated young mind?

A Monster Calls is a compelling and deeply moving story, layered with themes of illness, grief and the truths we try to hide. Poignant messages are effortlessly woven into complex characters facing life in starkly vulnerable times, forced to deal with the added trauma of teenage bullying, by those trying to hide their own insecurities and lack of understanding. Conor navigates his unravelling world supported by his Grandma, described as not being like other Grans, and who proves to be a big breath of fresh air. I enjoyed this representation of an older woman dressed in tailored suits, and with dyed hair, a gran who says sixty is the new fifty, considers classic cars need the most expensive polish, still has a job, emails birthday cards, and has a cleaning lady. And at the centre is Conor, needing to be seen, needing to speak his own truth, watched over by an old yew tree, standing guard, a presence that proves to be protective of an unravelling young mind.

This is an imaginative narrative following a boy’s journey as he loses his mother, the impact of grief, how he is supported and how he survives, and the fact that there is life after. A wonderful read for any age.

What are you reading?

 

Eastercon 2023

Reflections of a busy weekend in Birmingham for this year’s Eastercon, an annual convention of all things sci-fi, fantasy and horror. It was great to be there in person, representing Blood Gift Chronicles with readings from The Warder.

And it was a great chance to catch up with my publishers, Stairwell Books, at home with a fabulous book table in the dealer’s room.

As a writer/reader/watcher of these genres, the fact that I love them goes without saying. But it’s conventions like these that give you the deep dive into a world that knows no bounds, and demands that you look harder, root further, for all we bring as writers, and for all we celebrate as readers. I took part in many great panels, which in themselves is revealing, including topics around feminism, LGBTQ+, young adult, older protagonists, and cats – which proved popular for a nation of cat lovers!!! Plus it was great to meet new people, talk with readers, share ideas, support and encouragement, and be inspired by possibility.

It is always interesting to reflect on the power of representation and its role in fuelling liberation, on a personal level with the potential to translating into wider society. Empowered people seek liberation. And then, while standing on the shoulders of giants, (thank you Ursula Le Guin and Octavia Butler, among others) we imagine anew and expand on ideas of possibility. As far as the environment goes, it has never been more urgently needed. Whilst I may expand on some ideas in future blogs, for now, a special mention to the ever-growing young adult market, a genre for all ages, with enormous range, scope and potential. Personally, as far as politics goes, the future depends on young people, as well as an open line of communication across generations. And what better way to share than through stories.

“We live in capitalism. Its power seems inescapable. So did the divine right of kings. Any human power can be resisted and changed by human beings. Resistance and change often begins in art, and very often in our art, the art of words.” Ursula K. LeGuin

Speaking of the environment, it was a breath of fresh air to appreciate a big pocket of wilding among the urban, from Canada geese at the NEC, to promising bat boxes. And a special injection of art, with lilies on the water, and a sculpture entitled ‘Beyond All Limits’ by Luke Burton, specially commissioned to commemorate the London 2012 Olympics and Paralympics, and dedicated to Help for Heroes.

 

 On a different note, it was a special someone’s birthday on Monday, and since we were in Birmingham, what better way to celebrate than a visit to Cadbury’s World, followed by dinner at TJI Fridays…

Goodnight Birmingham…xxx

For the Love of Books #14

In this book post I thought I would give a nod to our younger characters, in two wonderful YA books that, like all books of this genre, are for readers of all ages. The first of my recommendations is inspired by the fact that it is LGBTQ+ history month.

The Magic Fish, by Trung Le Nguyen

The Magic Fish is a wonderfully unique story that carries powerful messages about identity, acceptance and love. It’s a long time since I read a graphic story, and this re-introduction was a great reminder of the power of graphics. The animations are beautifully descriptive and require few words to illustrate what is a complex journey for our main character, Tien. From the outset, it may appear like a small story, but this is the story of a boy living in social margins, an immigrant story among others things, and one that offers astonishing depth.

Tien has a story to tell his parents, but communication is difficult: they are refugees struggling to learn English, while Tien doesn’t know the words in Vietnamese to come out to them as gay. The answer lies in fairy tales – a language that Tien and his parents share. With the help of fairy tales, family and friends, Tien discovers how to tell his story to those close to him, how to accept himself and ultimately navigate the world. It is a novel told with interlinking storylines weaving between reality and fairy tales, so sweet and poignant and with an ending that is utterly heart-warming.

The Improbable Wonders of Moojie Littleman, By Robin Gregory

Born in 1892, a baby boy is found tucked inside a wooden fishing basket by the nuns of San Miguel de las Gaviotas. So begins Moojie Littleman’s journey of fantasy, magical realism, and miracles that are as real as the visiting extraterrestrials.

“He arrived on the heels of an earthquake. A minor hiccup as disasters go, the murmur rippling undersea, causing dories in the bay to bob and spider crabs to flood the beach like a ghostly pink tide.”

Moojie ends up in the care of his hard-hearted grandpappy. It’s an unsympathetic home for a biracial and partially-disabled boy with unique and tender magical gifts, and an innate empathy for humans, animals and nature. Until he answers the call of the wild, and discovers kindred spirits. So begins a series of trials as Moojie is called to a great destiny. But can he survive one last terrifying trial?

It is a magical tale of love, belonging, and pilgrimage, unique and inspiring and creatively told, with prose that comes alive on the page, lyrical and enchanting. It is a story that oozes with optimism, speaks of possibilities, and has you believing that miracles really do exist.

What are you reading?