Wednesday 29 June 2011

Post Pals - Helping Make Sick Children Smile

Post Pals is a charity that aims simply to brighten the lives of terminally and seriously ill children across the UK. 

Pal Anna-Mae C
By clicking on the names of the listed children on the website, people (that means you, Twin Sister Bubble readers!) can read updates about how they're doing, and can send letters, postcards, gifts and emails. Though the child might not be able to reply, you know that they are smiling and have a little happy moment in their day because of you. Post Pals was set up by Vikki, who is 26 and suffers from severe ME. She runs the charity from her laptop because although her illness has improved, she is usually bed-bound and only with the help of several other team members and a whole heap of volunteers can the charity continue to help the Pals themselves. She has won awards for her work and has brought smiles to countless children who need an extra bit of TLC - including the siblings of the Pals, who often don't get as much attention as they should. 

Pal Jessica M
However, Post Pals can never have enough Posters (members of the public like you and me who send smiles!) and also needs donations to help keep it going. All you have to do is follow the link here, read through the site (there are some guidelines to follow and plenty of information about the Pals to be found) and decide what you think will make a child smile! Posters can be from anywhere in the world, and every single one makes a difference. Giving a small piece of happiness isn't difficult, and, as someone who is a Poster, it's definitely a very worthwhile way of using up
those extra few minutes in the day :)

And here's the all important link to the Post Pals website! And a few others: you'll find the Caringbridge site of Pal Nia S and the blog of Pals Seren and Dylan's mum Rebecca on our blog list. More will be added soon! And in case you hadn't heard about sensational Pal Alice P already - her personal Bucket List blog has gone  viral! She's even been trending on Twitter.                                                                        

So. Go on. Make someone smile. Post, promote, donate. Easy as.

Allie

Waiting On Wednesday #2 - Aftershock, Mark Walden


'Waiting On' Wednesday is a meme taken from Jill at Breaking The Spine.

Today's book: Aftershock by Mark Walden.
Publication Date: 1 August 2011 (it was originally in September, but it's been brought forward!)

I'm looking forward to this book because: HIVE is another series I've been reading for a long time. It's hilarious and I have been known to get obsessed with it.I definitely want to see more of all the characters...especially Raven. You can never have enough ninja assassin action. Tora is also a fan of the series...the world of HIVE and its fans has a very special place in my heart, anyway.

(Description from Amazon) Scheming, extorting, menacing and general evilness are nothing new in the world of villainy - indeed it's expected. But there are codes of conduct. Until now. In an attempt to purge the Global League of Villainous Enterprises of its more destructive elements, Dr Nero has underestimated the cunning and resources of those who oppose him. 


Meanwhile, Otto and the rest of the Alpha stream have been sent to begin their most feared exercise: The Hunt, in the icy wastes of Siberia. But there is a traitor in their midst. The first strike against Nero will be a strike against the Alpha stream. Villain-kind is on the brink of CIVIL WAR.


(Apparently there are going to be some new characters, too...)


Allie

Tuesday 28 June 2011

Dreaming of Amelia by Jaclyn Moriarty- Excerpt

I'm going to have two excerpts, actually, one short and one longer.


They both had wet hair, only hers was brushed back into a long ponytail. From behind, I could see that the ponytail was leaking: Thin watershadows formed on her school shirt.
As I watched, he rubbed his hands over his head. He was friendly and rough with his head, as if it were a dog. Now his hair stood up in spikes.
And then something happened.
She reached a hand toward him and he reached his hand toward her, but his eyes found the eyes of strangers in the room. Their hands almost touched but did not.
I saw cobwebs in the slender, empty space between those hands.


That's from Lydia's point of view. She's a bit of a kook, wants to be a writer, and sees beauty everywhere.

And now: Riley's turn.


My first look at her was her name.
It was inky dark blue. On a note they'd left stuck to my backpack.
'KNOCK ON THE SECOND RED DOOR,' said the note. 'ASK FOR AMELIA.'
'Amelia, eh?' said I.


There's a lot you can do with a name like Amelia.
You can play with it, sure, is what you think I'm going to say. Make it cute (Amy) or cuter (Millie), complaining, (Meelie), or French, I guess, like the movie (Amelie).
You can step right into that name, is what I mean, and walk around. Swim with it or spill it on your shirt. Whisper it over like a sad, soft ache, or bark it out aloud like a mad, manic message: camellia, come heee-re, a-million, ah murder you, yea-eah.
You can peel it off your backpack, fold it up safe, walk right past that second red door, or you can not.


This was a few years back. I was 14 then.
I was still looking down at the name on the note while I headed to the second red door and I stopped with a fist in the air.
And there she was.
You think you know what I'm about to say,don't you?
You think I'm going to say: Amelia was just like her name.
No. Amelia was a girl in a cute t-shirt nightie with a retro Ms. Pacman on the front, and the sexiest thigh-high boots I ever saw. If Jesus were a bootmaker. And she looks at me with her eyes open wide and a face that says, oh my god, I'm muckin' around in my sexy Jesus-boots, in my crazy dreamworld, and I've opened the door and let you in on my crazy dreamworld and that's so embarrassing but, actually, who cares? because it's funny.
And then we're both laughing. There's this rope-length of laughter between us.


Funny thing is, even while I'm laughing, and falling in her eyes, a part of me knew she was a ghost.
The first time I saw her I knew that my Amelia was a ghost.



Allie

Monday 27 June 2011

I dream of a better tomorrow, where chickens can cross roads without having their motives questioned.

I am posting, mainly out of guilt here, for Allie has completely monopolized the blog here. I have about three posts saved that I never got to finish. Hopefully, the same shan't befall this one. I shan't bore you with book reviews (Reason A: I haven't read any books lately. ) I did have this little thing I wrote around my meme, called the Music Meister, that I was going to put up .... but ... I ah, lost it. *pushes fingers together*

So anyway... (sorry Allie) I am here to contradict Allie's neatness spurt, and her I-want-to-turn-this-into-something-worthwhile-and-all-about-books-spurt.

Current Book: Zeta. If it counts here, I'm in love with the manga series Black Bird. Read it if you're a manga fan. (Yup, you guessed it. I am.)

Current Playlist: Hotel California, the Eagles. I forgot how darned amazing this song was. Look it up, if *gaspeth* one doesn't know it. *Holds up hands* I know, I know, I like oldies songs.

Current Colour: Black, and white, and the colour of sunlight caught in drops of dew on the grass, and the colour of a lark's whistle.

Current Favourite TV Show: Dr Who. Some may have their doubts, but I still believe in him. Oh, and Ouran, if one counts manga anime.

Current Wishlist: For summer.

Current Book Wishlist: Anything. Anything new at all.

Current Needs: More hours in the day.

Current Bane of My Existence: This headache, my excema, MY FILLING ON WEDNESDAY! NUUU! Why did I remind myself of that? I cried a lot of my first ever filling, despite people assuring me that it won't hurt. THEY LIIIIIIIIE. =(((( I know it. Perhap's I'm being a wee bit negative...

Current Objects Around Me: Dad, the wireless mouse, a stapeler, an onminous potted plant, a wad of brown envelopes, my skin, my clothes...

Currently Thinking: I'm getting Joe Craig for a brother in law. I ammmmmmm.

My connection's being all fritzy.

Girls can do all the things boys can. And we can do it in high heels.

Pickles are cucumbers soaked in evil.

---
Alice's iPod.

This is me, leaving you to go back to your lives, and make someone smile today, because you're not feeling grouchier than I am.

*hugs* Tora.

Music Monday #2

This is a meme where you post a music video or something to do with music, it can be a song that reminds you of a book or just a song you like.

Today's one is:


St. Antoine by Leah Mason - just a generally happy song! For me, it's good for writing any kind of happy scene, or a scene with hyper little kids in it...


Allie

Book Review 3 - Dreaming of Amelia by Jaclyn Moriarty

This isn't a new book - it was published in 2010 - and I've had it pretty much since it first appeared on the  shelves...I have read it countless times, and have never stopped loving it.
  Isn't it a gorgeous cover? It's the UK one.

Jaclyn Moriarty has to be one of my favourite YA fiction authors. Her books have this ability to be very, very real, and also seem to depict this ever so slightly unattainable, glittering world - it's hard to explain. There's a quality to her novels that makes you feel as if the characters are both gloriously perfect and yet, fragile. There's a childlike element to some of them, especially Lydia, a naivety that could either come from being sheltered, or from just being an eternally happy optimist.  Her books often change viewpoints regularly. The first book I read of hers was Finding Cassie Crazy, and I fell in love with how she uses various mediums like the letters, notices on noticeboards, notes and Lydia's Notebook (which claims to teach you how to be an author). But it's Dreaming of Amelia we're talking about today, and that uses the form of the Australian HSC English exams and eassys, minutes of meetings (see next paragraph), blog posts and comments, and a few letters thrown in for good measure. And also another form which I cannot mention because it might ruin part of the plot for you, but as you can tell the book is very much character-led.

(I will definitely review Finding Cassie Crazy another time, and hopefully today's post won't give too much away about the previous books. They are not direct sequels, though there is a chronological order to read them in, all take place in and around the same place, and usually deal with people from certain schools; it's good to find out that there is some new blood in the next story, while still keeping tabs on your favourite characters from the previous books.)

Dreaming of Amelia deals with a large amount of character viewpoints, but Jaclyn Moriarty handles this extremely well and each voice is compeltely distinct. If you've read the previous books, you'll immediately recognize Emily and Lydia, and the teachers. (Yes, she documents meetings of a certain committee of adults!) Then, there's Toby, and of course, Riley and Amelia. 

Riley and Amelia have transferred to prestigious Ashbury High for their final year. The other pupils at the school become obsessed with them - they are people who are just out of reach, who seem to walk around with an invisible confidence while keeping mainly to themselves. Oh, and they are totally devoted to one another. 

However. It wouldn't be story unless there were secrets to unravel, pasts to uncover, shadows being cast. And boy, does Jaclyn Moriarty do this well. You're immediately pulled in by Riley's irresistible, both dark and light, cool, almost poetic voice (did I mention he's gorgeous, too?), as he's the first character you come across. He and Amelia have known each other for years, but somehow he knows she's kept something from him. 

The characters are about to join the adult world; they are on the cusp of leaving school and a lot of them will be going their separate ways. If these changes are not enough, new students in the last year are certainly something to talk about, as well as romance (and not just Riley and Amelia - one of my favourite characters from the previous books, Seb, returns) historical fiction (done in a similar style as Alex's story in Revolution, it adds another dimension to the book) and several ghosts (Oh yes - if you're a fan of the supernatural, there's something for you in the book, too).

The climax comes very quickly, despite the book being pretty long - it's the kind of book you have to invest in, because you really will need time to get stuck into it, as well as the fact that it is unputdownable - and even though you might think all the build up was unnecessary, it really is, because there are so many story arcs running under the surface. Some readers may want to read the previous books by Jaclyn Moriarty, which are a little shorter, to get used to her writing style and get all the facts that are referenced in this book.

I never felt overwhelmed by all the intertwining stories, though. Perhaps that is just me, but somehow it seems that Jaclyn Moriarty has pulled off an impossible task in combining so much in this book. Yes, at times you think the scenes don't matter, but really, all the little details come together eventually. Yes, sometimes the characters come across as slightly unrealistic, but then again the book is written at times in an otherworldly prose anyway. This book deals with several themes, but I did think some of the word count would have been better spent dealing with these in greater detail. Otherwise, it's a brilliant read, and I will always love it.

Writing: 5/5
Plot: 4/5
Characters: 5/5
Re-readability: 5/5
Impact: 4.5/5

In less than five words: unputdownable, captivating, gorgeous, interesting, fab.

Excerpt to follow in another post, probably not today, only time to do a Music Monday, probably.

Allie

Sunday 26 June 2011

Currently I'm...

I'm stealing this meme from Zoe (who stole it from Khy, who stole it from Jordyn, who stole it from Alexa, who stole- well, you get the idea ). It's just a list of things you are currently doing. I'm not going to set a regular day because it will probably end up becoming the post we/I do to cure boredom and to make sure there is something new on the blog if there hasn't been a post in a while.

Current Book: I just started Spindle's End by Rob McKinley, and don't know if I like it yet. If I do like it, it will be great because it's pretty long...Mainly I picked it up because I need something to read while I wait for books I have ordered/new releases that should be out soon.

Current Playlist: This is constantly changing, as I have a huge 'playlist', but right now I've been listening to You Lost Me by Christina Aguilera a lot (sad, but brilliant for writing) songs from Dionne Bromfield's new album, Good For The Soul, and Mumford & Son's album Sigh No More.

Current Colour: Black...and purple.

Current Favourite TV Show: House - I've been on a bit of a binge for the past week, flying through episodes...

Current Wishlist: for my writer's block to go away, and the summer to last forever. And for Tora to wake up so I can talk to her.

Current Book Wishlist: ARGH. I could list the fifty-two books I want, but it would just be a waste of time, since by the end of it I still won't have any of those books, and will feel even more depressed about not having them. I am thinking of trawling bookshops later today if I can, because I think I'm about to go INSANE from not not having anything new.

Current Needs: see above, and see below.

Current Bane of My Existence: writer's block. As I have stated several times over the past few days. I only have nine weeks left of summer, I need to write something!

Current Objects Around Me: A sleeping cat, the hardback library copy of Spindle's End by Rob McKinley, a  pile of notebooks, a dictionary, a ton of random sheets of paper, various pieces of jewellery.

Currently Thinking: I really need to finish this post, because I have things to do...

Allie

Wednesday 22 June 2011

Waiting On Wednesday #1 - Lifters, Joe Craig

'Waiting On' Wednesday is a meme taken from Jill at Breaking The Spine.

Today's book: Lifters by Joe Craig
Publication Date: 15 September 2011

I'm looking forward to this book because: it sounds exciting, and has a very unique and modern plot. I'm hoping it's going to be a little bit gritty and dark, as well as adventurous and thrilling.  I love Joe Craig's books in general and it'll be great to see what he's like when he's not writing Jimmy Coates books (which are awesome, if you hadn't already gathered that!) and because I really need something to look forward to in September! 

(Description from Amazon) Adaq and Maya are siblings - urban professionals with a unique set of thieving skills. When Adaq lifts a package from his latest target he has no idea what he's getting into. Before he can blink, the target is lying dead on the ground and he is running for his life. A sharp,urban thriller from Joe Craig, author of the international best-selling Jimmy Coates series..

This book may be shorter than his other ones, and probably mainly a kids book (could be could for getting kids into reading, definitely going to give it to my brother to see what he thinks!) but I still can't wait for it!


Allie

-Edit- Just found out Joe Craig himself has seen this...*muffled scream of excitement*

Tuesday 21 June 2011

The Turning Of The Year

The winter solstice is wishing for new things. The spring equinox is getting rid of old things. The autumn equinox is giving thanks. The summer solstice? Just a party.

Hope y'all have had fun. Techno-girl Allie has jazzed up the blog you see, now with pictures, new fonts aandd something else. *clicks fingers* Profiles, that's right. Myself and my sister should really just have the same one, it's so hard to distiguise between us, anyways.

Shiney.

I guess I don't have much else to say, except to wish y'all a good sostice, and I don't wanna be talking twaddle, tarnish all the good work here that sister, dear has done.

Tora.

Monday 20 June 2011

Random Lines

OK, Tora isn't here and I feel like doing something for the blog...(I will do more reviews soon...it seems that every other book blogger out there gets a ton of new releases, but I'm getting left behind...it makes me feel  deprived, knowing I will only read all these books months after everyone else has...I am halfway through two books, though, and I will try to do up a review of at least one of them sometime this week, or whenever I finish them.)

So, I'm going to take random lines from books I have here, or ones that I'm waiting for and have looked up online. I might turn it into a regular meme, I don't know yet. There are probably some memes like this on other blogs, but either they are slightly different/not classed as a meme but as part of a review/I haven't seen them, so for now I'm going to just say it's my own. Feel free to comment and correct me....


Beautiful Creatures, Kami Garcia & Margaret Stohl

(We should just go ahead and name this book of the week or something...)


"Sixteen moons, sixteen years
Sixteen of your deepest fears
Sixteen times you dreamed my tears
Falling, falling through the years . . ."


 (Part of a song....Page 6, if you're interested.)


                     


Oh, and until you're confident about your aim, you might not want to fly any Daniel-related messages my way. Dude behind you is famous on the football field for his interceptions. "

 (Arriane to Luce, in a note. Page 49.)



I was going to do more, but no time! Catch you all some other time....

Allie

Music Monday

This is a meme hosted by Zakiya at WBF...it's basically where you post a video or something about music - maybe a song reminds you of a book etc etc.

So, the first one:


Who Knows, Who Cares by Local Natives - it's a gorgeous song to write to, and it woudn't work the first time I tried to put it up....

Allie

Sunday 19 June 2011

Beautiful Creatures by Kami Garcia and Margaret Stohl - Excerpt



Oh yeah, you're going to to love me for this...I'm going to try to track down excerpts from every book I review. Some might be really, really short, but it'll be something.

(This is the prologue)

-Before-
The Middle of Nowhere

There were only two kinds of people in our town. "The stupid and the stuck," my father had affectionately classified our neighbors. "The ones who are bound to stay or too dumb to go. Everyone else finds a way out." There was no question which one he was, but I'd never had the courage to ask why. My father was a write, and we lived in Gatlin, South Carolina, because the Wates always had, since my great-great-great-great-great-granddad, Ellis Wate, fought and died on the other side of the Santee River during the Civil War.
     Only folks down here didn't call it the Civil War. Everyone under the age of sixty called it the War Between the States, while everyone over sixty called it the War of Northern Aggression, as if somehow the North had baited the South into war over a bad bale of cotton. Everyone, that is, except my family. We called it the Civil War.
     Just another reason I couldn't wait to get out of here.
     Gatlin wasn't like the small towns you saw in the movies, unless it was a movie form about fifty years ago. We were too far from Vharleston to have a Starbucks or a McDonald's. All we had was a Dar-ee Keen, since the Gentrys were too cheap to buy all the new letters when they bought the Dairy King. The library still had a card catalog, the high school still had chalkboards, and our community pool was Lake Moultrie, warm brown water and all. You could see a movie at the Cineplex about the same time it came out on DVD, but you had to hitch a ride over to Summerville, by the community college. The shops were on Main, the good houses were on River, and everyone else lived south of Route 9, where the pavement disintegrated into chunky concrete stubble - terrible for walking, but perfect for throwing at angry possums, the meanest animals alive. You never saw that in the movies. 
     Gatlin wasn't a complicated place - Gatlin was Gatlin. The neighbors kept watch from their porches in the unbearable heat, sweltering in plain sight. But there was no point. Nothing ever changed. Tomorrow would be the first day of school,my sophomore year at Stonewall Jackson High, and I already knew everything that was going to happen - where I would sit, who I would talk to, the jokes, the girls, who would park where.
     There were no surprises in Gatlin County. We were pretty much the epicenter of the middle of nowhere.
     At least, that's what I thought, when I closed by battered copy of Slaughterhouse-Five, clicked off my iPod, and turned out the light on the last night of summer.
     Turns out, I couldn't have been more wrong. 
     There was a curse.
     There was a girl. 
     And in the end, there was a grave.
     I never even saw it coming.



Allie

It's ... Well, let's thank God, if it had actually been Allie, it would have been a boring title.

Tora here, but only cause Allie's comp won't log into the blog, she's getting me to post it for her:

Book Review 2 - Beautiful Creatures by Kami Garcia and Margaret Stohl


I know, I know. I am probably going to do a novelty-fuelled flurry of reviews and then do none for weeks on end. Not exactly disciplined…but I promise you that we will be writing between the intermittent posts, and perhaps you will see some extracts from our tireless labours here on the blog…


Today’s book is, as you have seen already, Beautiful Creatures by Kami Garcia and Margaret Stohl. It’s a YA novel, with immediately apparent romantic, supernatural and Gothic themes – not usually my style, but I was intrigued by the premise and the things I had heard about it. I admit I had picked it up before and put it down again; the blurb leans too heavily in the vampire direction, and that put me off, as one of those YA readers who hasn’t really fallen in love with the whole vampire obsession thing. When I did finally get around to taking the plunge, I realized that I had been misled. Yes, vampires – though that term is not strictly applied – do feature a little. Not as much as I thought they might though. The point is that if you’re not exactly thrilled at the idea of yet another novel that contains the fantastically supernatural but also the not-so-fantastic vampire 
plague that has swept across the world, hang on a second
.
The story is told by the male character, Ethan. You know the inevitable features – romance. But Ethan’s perspective is an enjoyable one, and really I couldn’t imagine the book being told by any other character.
Ethan lives in Gatlin, a small town in South Carolina where nothing much happens, gossip spreads faster than the speed of light, and there are no secrets – or so it seems. Ethan attends Stonewall Jackson High School, where cliques and stereotypes rule, and anyone who knows anything falls into line and stays there. Ethan wants to escape – to escape from the people whose parents went to the school and whose children will probably go to the school; he wants to see the places he has read about in books. But college is two years away, and there are things binding him to Gatlin – it’s where his mother is buried, and where his family comes from. His determination usually outweighs the factors keeping him there, but they still lurk in the back of his 
mind.


Of course we don’t have to wait until Ethan leaves Gatlin for the story to really start. Summer is over, school has restarted, and for the first time since fifth grade, a new student has joined Ethan’s year. A girl – Lena Duchannes.


Lena is completely different. Pale, wearing a necklace of seemingly worthless junk – mementos – and apparently not giving a damn about the silence and stares as she walks down the hallway.


Ethan can’t help but gravitate towards her, even as the other students at Jackson quickly judge, dismiss and condemn Lena. He’s crossing the line between normality and being an outsider. Because he knows there is something more to Lena, something more than being odd and a loner.


The story escalates from there. With the plots that run alongside; Ethan’s father’s continued deterioration since his wife’s death, the problems at school – there is a point, as Ethan notes, where, if it was a movie, he and Lena would sit at the jocks’ table and his friends would learn a valuable lesson, and everything would be fine…but that doesn’t happen, and soon Ethan is thrown from his former – tiny – life, and into Lena’s world. Lena becomes his world.


I was barely able to put this book down. At times things happen very fast – sometimes too fast, but that’s rare – while at others there is plenty of detail and the pace is slower. You will always try to guess the ending, but whether you are right or wrong, the journey there is captivating and very enjoyable to read.


It is filled with brilliant characters – Amma, the Sisters – although at times I found Ethan a bit unrealistic. I didn’t fall for him the way I have for some of his contemporaries in other books.


However, there are some scenes that I really loved, and I was never bored; this book is definitely worth reading, it’s satisfying and an excellent read if you’re looking for something to get your teeth into.


Writing: 5/5
Plot: 4/5
Characters: 4/5
Re-readability: 3/5
Impact: 3/5
In less than five words|: supernatural, unputdownable, Gothic, great read


Thoughts on the cover: Wow. It's gorgeous - the design, the title font....the authors' names could have been bigger though.


((Holy Mackintosh, I wouldn't be able to do something like that...can see why the English proffessor's in love with her, can'tcha? ))

Friday 17 June 2011

Book Review 1 - Revolution by Jennifer Donnelly

I said I'd review it. And now I am.

The US cover
I like the image of Andi,
and it reflects the story,
but I think I prefer the other one.
The UK cover:
The one I got my hands on.
I love it.


So, anyone who has read my previous post about Revolution will know that:


It's about a girl called Andi Alpers, a depressed, dark, haunted teenager in present-day New York, and Alexandrine Paradis, who has been caught up in the French Revolution. Andi is an amazingly gifted musician, and music is her life - literally. She has nothing else to live for; her father left after the events that caused her depression, and he was always distant anyway - he's a geneticist, obsessed with his work - and her mother is lost in her own world. Alone and about to fail her last year at school, she's taken to Paris, and discovers a diary hidden within an ancient  guitar case - Alex's. The two stories unfold, two girls separated by hundreds of years - but inexplicably connected. Not to mention all the intertwining arcs and characters. Especially the wonderful, and wonderfully-named, Virgil.

So. You know what it's about. It sounds promising. But is it actually any good?

Well. The opening chapter, the opening line even, hooks you in straight away, the irresistible, modern, blunt and yet detailed prose that is Andi's voice instantly calling out. Jennifer Donnelly's writing is fantastic. You can't help but feel a connection to Andi. You want to reach into the book and help her somehow. I did, anyway. The novel is told in present tense and it is impossible not to feel like you are right there, sitting on a bench beside the Seine, Andi a few feet away from you, playing her guitar like there is nothing but her and the music, or in the room as she begins to read Alex's diary, watching her face change as the mysteries of one girl caught up in the French Revolution are revealed.

Which brings us onto Alex. She was the companion of the dauphin - Lous XVI's son - Louis-Charles. She loves the young boy like a brother, and all she wants to do is see a smile on his face. He doesn't care about class or status. He just needs something to distract him from the horrors going on all around him. But, as some of you may know, Lous-Charles' fate was not a pleasant one. Locked up in the Tower in Paris, left to starve and slowly begin to lose his mind. Alex's separation from him invokes terrible guilt on her part, and you can't help but side with her in her mission to reach out to him.

Andi is as enraptured by this story as I was, or you will be. Her brother Truman was killed, and she believes it was her fault. She knows it was her fault. Her depression is escalating and she can't see any way out. Alex's story is respite - but it starts to cause her pain, too. The similarities between Andi and Truman and Alex and Louis-Charles are not easy to miss, or forget. There is hope, but it is constantly changing shape and sometimes vanishing completely.

Now, at times I was very impatient to get back to Andi's view and her story. Perhaps because Alex's account of the Revolution is occasionally hard to get your head around, and drags a little. But then you finally get back to Andi, and you're not mad at Donnelly for holding you up any more. It is, essentially, a tale of two girls, two boys, two stories, two fates. All hopelessly intertwined with each other. It's fascinating and explosive - literally - and captured my heart as well as my imaginations. There are the main themes, and then enough of other ones to keep any YA reader satisfied; contemporary, historical, romantic, dark. It also features some of the best songs known to man. (And yes, I'm still talking about a book, not a movie. A film would have a lot to live up to, but if they did it right it could be amazing.)

Characters - 5/5
Plot - 5/5
Writing - 5/5
Impact - 5/5
Re-readability: 5/5
Description in less than five words: Pure genius, stunning, compelling, deep.

So, is Revolution any good? In a nutshell?

Hell yes! Here's an extract - the entire opening chapter for you to peruse at your leisure, and hopefully entice you enough for you to decide to read the whole thing. (who am I kidding? In my eyes it should be illegal not to read this book!)


Those who can, do.



Those who can’t, deejay.



Like Cooper van Epp. Standing in his room—the entire fifth floor of a Hicks Street brownstone—trying to beat-match John Lee Hooker with some piece of trip-hop horror. On twenty thousand dollars’ worth of equipment he doesn’t know how to use.



“This is the blues, man!” he crows. “It’s Memphis mod.” He pauses to pour himself his second scotch of the morning. “It’s like then and now. Brooklyn and Beale Street all at once. It’s like hanging at a house party with John Lee. Smoking Kents and drinking bourbon for breakfast. All that’s missing, all we need—”



 “—are hunger, disease, and a total lack of economic opportunity,” I say.



Cooper pushes his porkpie back on his head and brays laughter.



He’s wearing a wifebeater and an old suit vest. He’s seventeen, white as cream and twice as rich, trying to look like a bluesman from the Mississippi Delta. He doesn’t. He looks like Norton from The Honeymooners.



“Poverty, Coop,” I add. “That’s what you need. That’s where the blues come from. But that’s going to be hard for you. I mean, son of a hedge fund god and all.”



His idiot grin fades. “Man, Andi, why you always harshing me? Why you always so—”



Simone Canovas, a diplomat’s daughter, cuts him off. “Oh, don’t bother, Cooper. You know why.”



“We all do. It’s getting boring,” says Arden Tode, a movie star’s kid.



“And one last thing,” I say, ignoring them, “talent. You need talent. Because John Lee Hooker had boatloads of it. Do you actually write any music, Coop? Do you play any? Or do you just stick other people’s stuff together and call the resulting calamity your own?”



Cooper’s eyes harden. His mouth twitches. “You’re battery acid. You know that?”



“I do.”



I am. No doubt about it. I like humiliating Cooper. I like causing him pain. It feels good. It feels better than his dad’s whiskey, better than his mom’s weed. Because for just a few seconds, someone else hurts, too. For just a few seconds, I’m not alone.




I pick up my guitar and play the first notes of Hooker’s “Boom Boom.” Badly, but it does the trick. Cooper swears at me and storms off.



Simone glares. “That was brutal, Andi. He’s a fragile soul,” she says; then she takes off after him. Arden takes off after her. Simone doesn’t give a rat’s about Cooper or his soul. She’s only worried he’ll pull the plug on our Friday- morning breakfast party.



She never faces school without a buzz. Nobody does. We need to have something, some kind of substance- fueled force field to fend off the heavy hand of expectation that threatens to crush us like beer cans the minute we set foot in the place. I quit playing “Boom Boom” and ease into “Tupelo.” No one pays any attention. Not Cooper’s parents, who are in Cabo for the holidays. Not the maid, who’s running around opening windows to let the smoke out. And not my classmates, who are busy trading iPods back and forth, listening to one song after another. No Billboard Hot 100 fare for us. We’re better than that. Those tunes are for kids at P.S. Whatever- the- hell. We attend St. Anselm’s, Brooklyn’s most prestigious private school. We’re special. Exceptional. We’re supernovas, every single one of us. That’s what our teachers say, and what our parents pay thirty thousand dollars a year to hear.



This year, senior year, it’s all about the blues. And William Burroughs, Balkan soul, German countertenors, Japanese girl bands, and New Wave. It’s calculated, the mix. Like everything else we do. The more obscure our tastes, the greater the proof of our genius.



As I sit here mangling “Tupelo,” I catch broken-off bits of conversation going on around me.



“But really, you can’t even approach Flock of Seagulls without getting caught up in the metafictive paradigm,” somebody says.



And “Plastic Bertrand can, I think, best be understood as a postironic nihilist referentialist.”



And “But, like, New Wave derived meaning from its own meaninglessness. Dude, the tautology was so intended.”



And then, “Wasn’t that a mighty time, wasn’t that a mighty time . . .”



I look up. The kid singing lines from “Tupelo,” a notorious horndog from Slater, another Heights school, is suddenly sitting on the far end of the sofa I’m sitting on. He smirks his way over until our knees are touching.



“You’re good,” he says.



“Thanks.”



“You in a band?”



I keep playing, head down, so he takes a bolder tack.



“What’s this?” he says, leaning over to tug on the red ribbon I wear around my neck. At the end of it is a silver key. “Key to your heart?”



I want to kill him for touching it. I want to say words that will slice him to bits, but I have none. They dry up in my throat. I can’t speak, so I hold up my hand, the one covered in skull rings, and clench it into a fist.



He drops the key. “Hey, sorry.”



“Don’t do that,” I tell him, tucking it back inside my shirt. “Ever.”



“Okay, okay. Take it easy, psycho,” he says, backing off.



I put the guitar into its case and head for an exit. Front door. Back door. Window. Anything. When I’m halfway across the living room, I feel a hand close on my arm.



“Come on. It’s eight- fifteen.”



It’s Vijay Gupta. President of the Honor Society, the debate team, the Chess Club, and the Model United Nations. Volunteer at a soup kitchen, a literacy center, and the ASPCA. Davidson Fellow, Presidential Scholar candidate, winner of a Princeton University poetry prize, but, alas, not a cancer survivor. Orla McBride is a cancer survivor, and she wrote about it for her college apps and got into Harvard early admission. Chemo and hair loss and throwing up pieces of your stomach beat the usual extracurriculars hands down. Vijay only got wait- listed, so he still has to go to class.



“I’m not going,” I tell him.



“Why not?”



I shake my head.



“What is it?”



Vijay is my best friend. My only friend, at this stage. I have no idea why he’s still around. I think he sees me as some kind of rehabilitation project, like the loser dogs he cares for at the shelter.



“Andi, come on,” he says. “You’ve got to. You’ve got to get your outline in. Beezie’ll throw you out if you don’t. She threw two seniors out last year for not turning it in.”



“I know. But I’m not.”



Vijay gives me a worried look. “You take your meds today?” he asks.



“I did.”



He sighs. “Catch you later.”



“Yeah, V. Later.”



I head out of the Castle van Epp, down to the Promenade. It’s snowing. I take a seat high above the BQE, stare at Manhattan for a bit, and then I play. For hours. I play until my fingertips are raw.



Until I rip a nail and bleed on the strings. Until my hands hurt so bad I forget my heart does.


And there you have it. My first review. We're of to a good start, I think. And an extract and everything! I hope someone does get to read it.

Allie

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