Genre: Speculative Fiction

Face Value: I read this one on e-book (which I only acquired recently) so I didn’t spend as much quality time with the cover as I would normally in a print book. But still, I say yes to this cover, which has a great use of color, lovely illustrations, and is absolutely reflective of the story.

Does it Break the Slate? Totally. Riley is both relatable and admirable, bringing toughness, compassion, and a healthy dose of skepticism to her town’s strange circumstances. She is the true hero of this story, and it’s great to see such a richly realized young women at the center.

Who would we give it to? Sure there’s a fantasy element, but what I really loved about this book was the relatable small town experience that Kress captures beautifully and the smart interactions between characters. If you’ve pushed through Sarah Dessen’s canon already and are willing to try something a little out of the box, you might really enjoy Outcast. And of course, if you like well-plotted realistic fantasy, then you’ll enjoy this too.

Review: For the past six years, angels show up once a year in Riley’s town. Real angels, scary biblical ones, who come from the sky and take people back with them, people who are never heard from again. It’s frightening, and inexplicable, and over the years people have found their own explanations for why it happens. But most of them have come to the conclusion that it’s a religious choosing of some kind, and Pastor Warren has built a ridiculously successful Church of the Angels based on that principle. Everyone in the town buys into that, because – well – they have to. But a year ago, Riley’s best friend Chris was taken by angels. So this year, when she stays home from the ceremony, she ends up shooting an angel in the face.

When she shoots the angel, it turns into 17 year old boy named Gabe who seems to think it’s 1956. And Riley and Gabe together start to piece together the town’s mysteries, and realize it’s more complicated than anyone realized.

The premise of Outcast is a strange one, and I definitely was skeptical just from reading about it. But it’s so well crafted, with such complex characters and well-structured mythology that I was in love with it from the start, and only enjoyed it more as the secrets were revealed.

Riley’s skepticism is one of my favorite things about her. It’s a first person narrative, so her voice drives the story, and gives us our touchstone for belief, disbelief, and understanding. This passage from the beginning of the bok gives you an idea:

“The first time it happened, it freaked everyone out. This was a god-fearing land. It said so right on the town sign. You knew the second you passed into our community that this was a goddamned god-fearing place.

I’d always wondered if it was maybe ‘cause we feared god so much that they came.”

So right away we know that this isn’t necessarily a religious book. Riley and her parents aren’t religious – they just know enough about their town to stay quiet about their skepticism. But while Pastor Warren turns out to be corrupt and villainous as one might expect, there are plenty of religious characters who are thoughtful, respectful and heroic. So this is a book that can be read and enjoyed by people of all different religious backgrounds.

Riley is the best. I loved her and a character and totally empathized/identified with her. She is a Slatebreaker, both because of her complex/dynamic characterization, her general attitude, and  because she, you know, ultimately LEADS A TEAM OF REBELS in a bold overthrow of her small town’s system. But Gabe is also pretty fantastic, and the relationship that develops between them, both friendship-wise and romantically is plausible, complicated, and pretty smoldering.

There are also some really interesting explorations of female friendship, and a wide variety of female characters. Like in Kress’s earlier work The Friday Society, she plays with the “tropes” of characters, and what we expect of young women, and turns those tropes into interesting complications and realizable humans. Same with Riley’s parents, who are wonderful, interesting parents as well as wonderful, interesting characters. Nice to see.

I really enjoyed Kress’s The Friday Society, and reviewed it positively on this blog last winter. But I loved Outcast even more. Instead of playing with history and traditional tropes to build characters and action, here she has crafted a totally new mythology, with really original and engaging characters. Her range of skill makes me particularly excited to keep reading her work.

Reviewed from an ARC received via NetGalley.

Genre: YA Realistic Fiction

Face Value: Half girl alert! She’s missing part of her body and head! I wish that that publishers could just be ok with girls’ faces being on book covers and then we could all move on with our lives. The painted locker connects with the story, but it makes this look like a murder mystery rather than high school fiction. From a distance, I thought that the locker was dripping with blood rather than paint. Creepy.

Does it break the slate? Not even close. This is a story about girls doing terrible things to one another. They cut each other down. They ruin lives. They never advocate for one another or support the choices that other girls make. This is a cautionary tale of how not to be a Slatebreaker.

Who would we give it to? Some Girls Are is not a book that makes you feel good about yourself. It is difficult for me to pinpoint how I would recommend this book. Perhaps if I saw a bullying issue among the youth with whom I work, I would encourage some of them to read this book and think about the consequences of targeted harassment. I don’t know if that would work, though. When you are the instigator, it’s not so easy to recognize the impact of your actions.

Review: Sometimes terrible things are fictionalized in a way that desensitizes us to the true seriousness of the issue. Mean Girls is an example. The bullying and harassment in that movie are truly awful, but it’s done in such a comically exaggerated way that we laugh at it. The bad girls get payback, there’s a peaceful resolution, and we all go home happy. But that’s not usually how it plays out when things get nasty and friends turn on one another.

Regina Afton was one of the “it” girls. She rules the halls of her high school as the second-in-command to the queen bee, Anna. Regina has enjoyed the privileges of her rank in the school culture…until it all comes crashing down around her. Regina and Anna have a falling out after Anna’s boyfriend sexually assaults Regina at a party. Too fearful to go to the police, Regina instead tells Kara, another girl in their clique. Kara takes this information and spins it into vicious rumors about Regina. Regina is then “frozen out” of their clique.

If only a “freeze out” was as cold and passive as it sounds. Yes, the girls completely reject Regina and refuse to interact with her directly. But there is also a vicious, aggressive approach to Regina’s eviction from the group. They paint the word “whore” across her locker. They trash her belongings. They sabotage her personal life. Anywhere Regina turns for solace, they ruin it for her.

Regina’s exile is made more painful by her own guilt over having been part of the same cruel acts back when she was part of the “in” group. No one in the school is willing to reach out to her because she’s been so evil to them before. Regina’s dismal situation shows the reverberating impact of bullying. When you’re on top, you’re safe – but that safety is never guaranteed, because you don’t know when you might become the target.

Regina is a challenging character because she used to be one of the bullies. It makes it more difficult to empathize with her, even when she’s at her most miserable. Because she used to be one of the agressors, Regina relies on those old techniques to get back at the bullies. She jumps ahead into vengeful actions without considering more peaceful ways of settling dispute.

Regina fought back against her bullies by doing things that were just as disgusting to bring them down. I appreciated that she wasn’t going to sit there and take it, but I wanted to see her do something less underhanded to get back at these girls. Regina repeatedly acknowledged how “sick” they all were for doing such terrible things. The overall impact of the book is nauseating. It made me feel ill to listen to the descriptions of everything they did. I listened to this as an audiobook, and the performance was strangely compelling. I hated how Regina and the other girls treated people, yet I wanted to hear more because the performance was well done. The author’s style of storytelling is engaging, despite the dark tone. Some Girls Are is a roadmap of everything girls need to change about the way we treat one another. If readers choose to pick up this book, I hope they come away with a renewed sense of commitment to changing the way social structures operate in high schools.

Reviewed from library audiobook.

So imagine how excited we have been about the musical adaptation of Roald Dahl’s Matilda, which opened in London in 2012 and on Broadway this past spring. This is a feminist TYA play, in which the young heroine relies on books as a means of saving herself. It’s basically everything we’ve ever wanted in an experience. Brianna introduced me to the music last year, and ever since I’ve been fantasizing about seeing the production. And last weekend, I got to go and see it in New York, with my sister!

So even though Matilda was robbed of the best musical Tony award last night* I wanted to take a moment to celebrate this incredibly Slatebreaking piece of art, with some of the things I loved best about the show.

1. It’s just an incredibly well done adaptation that captures what I loved about the book.

Take a look at that set. It’s stunning isn’t it? Made out of scrabble tiles, and letters, the set is built around letters. Because, as Matilda explains later, letters become words and words become sentences, and sentences become stories. And stories can change lives. Matilda is a brilliant child, of course, but it is books that give her the means to change that story. I love that the whole set reflects that letters are the core of what gives this character her strength and the ability to save herself.

Roald Dahl’s book has been one of my favorites since I was in elementary school. And Tim Minchin’s music and lyrics and Dennis Kelly’s book bring it to life in a way that perfectly captures the spirit of the story. Everything you want to still be there is there (Amanda Thripp being thrown by her pigtails, Matilda’s revenge on her parents, the horror of the Chokey) and everything that is added to the story to make it more theatrical feels as though it could have been written by Dahl. The way Miss Honey’s tragic history is woven into the play, for example, works beautifully. Mrs. Wormwood as a ballroom dancer is hilarious (and lends itself to a terrific dance number). It all comes together seamlessly in a way that is laugh-out-loud funny and cry-in-public heartbreaking.

2. Matilda is one of the most Slatebreaking characters of all time.

As a character, Matilda is outstanding. She is smart – of course – but she is also thoughtful, ingenious and compassionate. But she never stops being a kid – a brilliant kid, an extraordinary kid – but she never comes off as a precocious tiny adult. She might be smarter than her parents, but she still wants them to love and take care of her. She is a richly complicated and amazingly strong character, and she is a five year old girl.

In the play, Matilda is played in rotation by four young actresses (in the production all the kindergarteners are played by 10-12 year olds, and the older kids are played by young adult actors, which works terrifically well from a staging point of view). We saw Oona Lawrence, who was incredible, but I hear that all four are fantastic. It was very cool to see a young actress take on this role with such confidence and skill.This production celebrates young people as smart, capable humans, who can take charge of their own destiny.

3. Kids are agents of their own experience in this play.

It starts right away with Matilda, singing the theme of the show, singing

“Even if you’re little you can do a lot, you
Mustn’t let a little thing like ‘little’ stop you.
If you sit around and let them get on top, you
Might as well be saying you think that it’s OK,
And that’s not right.

And if it’s not right

You have to put it right
But nobody else is gonna put it right for me.
Nobody but me is gonna change my story.
Sometimes you have to be a little bit naughty”

How can you not love that? What a powerful idea – that kids have the power to change their own stories. And later, when under Matilda’s leadership, the kids fight back against evil headmistress Ms. Trunchbull, every kid in the play takes charge of his or her own experiences. Being a kid, the play suggests, you might be less powerful, but you can still fight back.

This clip is from the cast’s appearance on the View – it shows both Matilda singing “Naughty” and the cast of the show singing the final, triumphant, “Revolting Children.”

And here they are performing at the Tony Awards last night

4. Miss Honey grows into a Slatebreaker over the course of the play

Miss Honey is a wonderful character, both in the book and in the play, where she is perfectly captured by Lauren Ward. At the start of the play she is compassionate, kind and clearly a good teacher, but she is quiet and meek, and afraid to stand up for herself. We see her grow angry with herself, throughout the play, for being “pathetic” and afraid of confrontation. But she recognizes what is so special in Matilda, and Matilda finds a kindred spirit in Miss Honey. Through Matilda’s strength, she is able to save Miss Honey. And by the end of the play, Miss Honey is able to find her own strength, and ultimately save Matilda. She becomes a Slatebreaker in her own right, and her journey is a really powerful one.

5. The people who created this play love books and respect kids. It’s obvious.

From the beautiful library set to the reverence with which Matilda talks about books, it’s obvious that this is a play for book lovers. And it was great. There were a ton of kids in the audience with us at the performance we saw, and I love the idea of kids seeing this story come to life, identifying with these powerful characters and believing in their own ability to change their destinies for the better. I hope it has a long run and a tremendously successful life in the theatrical canon.

* although even though I was disappointed, Kinky Boots looks awesome. And I love Cyndi Lauper. And I love that last night’s awards ceremony was filled with wins by women and people of color. Two women won the best director awards, which has NEVER happened in the same year! So despite the lack of Matilda wins, it was a super-Slatebreaking Tony Awards.

Genre: Graphic Novel (YA, or maybe New Adult? Let’s talk about it after the jump.)

Face Value: Lovely. This is a neat graphic novel cover because it lures you in from far away in the bookstore with the romantic French architecture, then when you get close you see that it’s a graphic novel with an illustrated protagonist. It’s a sweet cover, and it feels both young and grown-up at the same time. Lucy looks young, and she draws herself as such, yet the dangling cigarette and sophisticated setting signal that she is very much an adult, albeit a ‘young’ or ‘new’ one.

Does it break the slate? There is nothing especially revolutionary about French Milk, but it is a pleasant book that tells the story of two women on their own little adventure in Paris. Lucy and her mother are smart, capable women. Lucy writes and draws about her response to depictions of women in art, as well as her opinions on relationships and careers. It’s not a slate-smashing book that will revolutionize perceptions of gender, but it is a strong travel narrative by a young woman who is confident enough to explore other cultures and reflect on what she learns.

Who would we give it to? I handed my copy to my sister who is about to study abroad, and I think it would be the perfect book for anyone preparing for a significant journey, whether it is out of state or overseas. French Milk is about chronicling new experiences, and I think it could be both a comfort and an inspiration for any reader about to have a major new experience of their own.

A note on age appropriateness – French Milk is about a young woman in her early twenties. She talks frankly about her sex life, and there’s casual consumption of alcohol and cigarettes, but there is nothing you wouldn’t find in a typical YA realistic fiction novel. In my opinion, high school students would enjoy this book as a travel narrative. Older readers of college-age would get something different out of this book, I think, because of the way it describes the unique fears that come during major life changes.

Review: New Adult Fiction. It’s a thing now. Or has it always been a thing? Inspired by the debate around recent articles declaring that new adult fiction is the hot genre on the publishing scene, I decided to explore some books that one could categorize as “new adult.” French Milk was published in 2007, before the term “new adult” was truly in use, but the book definitely includes traits that could classify it as a new adult book. Lucy is a young adult, age 22, who is contemplating her future career and her sexual relationships while thinking about the exciting and scary prospect of leaving college and being out on her own.

There’s something about French Milk that makes it feel like a Millennial/Generation Y anthem. Lucy is privileged enough to be able to take a six-week trip to Paris and not have to worry about earning an income while she is there. I was a little miffed at the author for feeling stressed and anxious about such an awesome opportunity, but I quickly got over that. Knisley writes about her own guilt at feeling nervous about her big trip, and how she recognizes her privilege but that still doesn’t stop her from feeling crappy about her personal challenges.

French Milk is a delicious narrative of the richness of Knisley’s Parisian environment. Every description of food is accompanied by charming drawings that make me want to eat for days on end. I want to try everything that she tried, even if it’s something that I would never normally eat, like foie gras.

Just looking at that illustration again makes me want to go have a snack. I love the way she draws – the drawings are lively, somehow. I feel like the drawings are laughing cheerfully from where they sit on the page.

And although she describes her trip with enough detail to make you swoon from your reading chair, there’s a dark edge to her story. Knisley’s trip to Paris coincides with a transitional time in her life, when she is plagued with the angst of finishing her undergraduate degree and heading out into the unknown. She is excited for the future, and clearly has a strong support system and a great deal of talent – but it’s terrifying to know that you will soon need to find a job, figure out how to pay for your own rent and groceries and EVERYTHING ELSE. Her struggle to face this inevitability is effectively juxtaposed with the escapist delights of her six weeks in a magical city.

Another endearing aspect of French Milk is the way in which Knisley shows an artist’s reaction to famous art. She spent much of her time in Paris visiting museums, and she draws/writes her thoughts on iconic pieces by renowned artists. I always feel like a complete heel if I’m looking at a famous painting and I just don’t like it. Knisley shares her responses – both positive and negative – in a way that demonstrates respect for the artist, yet still clearly articulates her preferences and style. I loved her commentary on nude women in art – it was a feminist gem tucked into the story.

French Milk is not a typically structured story. There is no major dramatic arc or denouement, but rather a simple and straightforward chronicle of a very special trip. If you are stuck in a less-than-romantic locale this summer and want to take a literary vacation, French Milk is excellent for arm chair travelling. Or perhaps you are a “new adult” like me, who sometimes needs some company when that big scary monster of adulthood is staring you down – French Milk is perfect for that, too. Wherever you stand in the whole “new adult” genre debate, this book is worth exploring.

Reviewed from library copy. 

Genre: Contemporary Realistic Fiction

Face Value: How much do I love this cover? So. Much. It’s both interesting artwork and actually relevant to the book’s content. The boots are perfect, Celia looks appropriately fierce and the use of perspective gives her and her story a larger than life quality. Normally I would shake my fist at the headless model but this looks so intentional, as though the image is actually an artistic choice instead of a stock photo, I can’t find myself bothered by it.

Does it Break the Slate? Definitely. Celia is a Slatebreaker – frankly, I wouldn’t put the literal act past her if given the right circumstances, but she’s also very much a character who is taking her situation into her own hands. She has a whole lot of terrible things to deal with, and she handles them with a remarkable finesse, and a ton of inner strength, while still being a fascinating/flawed character.

Who would we give it to? Definitely add this title to your anti-bullying curriculum. It’s a fresh, non-cloying perspective, and it’s an important voice to add into the mix. Any budding poets will find a lot to like here as well.

Review:  Celia Door is starting her ninth grade year as Celia the Dark. She became Celia the Dark at the end of eighth grade, right before her 14^th birthday, when the despicable Sandy Firestone did something unspeakable to her. With her boots, eyeliner, tights, and hoodie, Celia is making herself impenetrable as she starts high school.

Celia the Dark is not seeking friendship, or popularity, or acceptance. Celia the Dark is seeking revenge.  But when she does find a friend, in Drake, the new boy at her school, she finds herself caught between her revenge and her new friendship. Ultimately though, the conflict of the book isn’t about Celia making this decision – it’s about her finding a way to get through the terrible things that have been done to her, and coming out stronger on the other side.

Karen Finneyfrock is a poet, and this is her first novel. Her background shows in the gorgeous poetry of her prose – the writing here is absolutely beautiful. Finneyfrock doesn’t need a lot of words to give us a clear glimpse into characters and their worlds. Take this passage:

“Some kids, I’ve been told, come to school to learn. Some come for the social outlet, or because they love theatre or football. Most come because it is legally required by the state and, therefore their parents. I came to Hershey High School for revenge. I didn’t have a specific plan worked out, but I did know this: it would be public, it would humiliate someone, and it would be clear to that someone that I had orchestrated it.”

She’s also given us a wonderful character in Celia, who never lets herself be a victim, even when she is faced with bullying that has what seems like no way out. Celia is not just tough when she is Celia the Dark (although I love the unflinching fierceness of that persona). I love that she’s out for revenge, that she wants to make justice happen for herself. Even if that revenge is not necessarily a “good” thing to do, or the right thing to do, or even a particularly Slatebreaking thing to do, what is Slatebreaking about it is that she allows herself her anger and wants to do something about it. No passive victimization here – She is tough at her core, and I think that empathizing with her would give a reader going through something similarly horrible a real sense of power and hope.

Also, how could we not fall in love with a character who loves books so much that she tells us:

“Libraries are my power centers. If I were a character in a video game and my avatar had to go somewhere to recharge her life force after losing a fight, it would be the library.”

Not only do I totally relate, I love the sentiment. And I love the idea of taking power from the library, or from whatever space it is that gives you that recharge. Sometimes finding that is what you need to get through the day, or the week, or whatever terrible thing is happening, until you can move onto the next thing.

It’s no secret that the girl-centered bullying that we see in this novel is a hot topic in recent years. Finneyfrock doesn’t shy away from how cruel this bullying can be, or offer a magical solution. But she offers a poignantly realized perspective on one girl’s way out. I loved this ferocious novel and character, and I look forward to reading more of Karen Finneyfrock’s work.

Reviewed from Library Copy.

So the name of our blog comes from a scene in Anne of Green Gables (the scene where Anne breaks a slate over Gilbert’s head). I definitely see Izzy as a Slatebreaker, as someone who, in the tradition of Anne Shirley, takes her life into her own hands, even if sometimes it’s hard to figure out what you want. What books and authors, YA or otherwise, influenced your writing?

Yes, I agree! I think Izzy is definitely a Slatebreaker. (In a literal sense: a certain art room water bucket scene from SYMPTOMS comes to mind : )  )

While writing drafts of Symptoms I was reading, Catherine Gilbert Murdock, Sarah Dessen, Wendelin Van Draanen, just to name a few. Growing up I was, and still am, a huge fan of Judy Blume. My comedy and theatre background is definitely a huge influence on my writing. Nora Ephron, Wendy Wasserstein, David Ives, Christopher Durang. . .

Like you (and Izzy), I grew up in Michigan! I also deeply related to Izzy’s large breast drama. How did your own high school experience figure into the writing of the book? Any good stories to share

Izzy’s boob stories are fiction, but I definitely had my share of large breast drama. (Though more so in middle school) This one boy in fifth grade would ask me if my “boobs were in training” since I was one of the first girls to wear a training bra.

In 7^th grade we had to come up with a name for our Social Studies group and one boy suggested “Mindy’s Mountains.”

I remember realizing at some point in high school (I think at a party) that I was no longer the only girl in the room with big boobs. It may sound dramatic, but the relief of that realization changed the way I walked, and carried myself, and even how I dressed.

Our blog is about feminism in YA. Your book definitely has a major focus on girls and the female experience of growing up. Do you identify as a feminist? If so, how does that play into what and how you write? If not, how does an awareness of your female audiences affect your writing?

One of my goals when I started writing SYMPTOMS was to make Izzy as real as possible. I wanted her to make bad decisions, to be weak and impressionable, but also strong. I wanted to inject the story with some girl power moments as well.

I don’t view feminism as just a women’s issue. Even when I’m writing from a female perceptive or know that a large percent of my readers will be female, I want to connect with readers through a male perspective as well. I don’t want the guys in my stories to be black and white “bad guys,” even when they do bad things. It’s important to me that male characters are also grey and conflicted and their stories are left open so that they can learn and grow and change as well.

I love that your blog focuses on feminist issues in YA. I hate that there’s a stigma to saying “I’m a feminist” or “I write for female audiences.” I’m really proud to say I support women, and love women, and that this book in particular is about women and their relationships with one another. I feel this way about my comedy as well. You can talk about tampons, or makeup, or boobs, or any other female experience that’s tiresomely become cliché  and make it real and funny.

Wait, what was your question. Oh. Of course I’m a feminist. Isn’t everyone? How could you not be?

Mindy, thanks for being part of our blog! Please feel free to stop by anytime!

Genre: Contemporary Realistic Fiction

Face Value: This is a perfectly solid cover. While it doesn’t blow me away, I always think that a text-based cover design is appealing. The backdrops of smiley faces reflect the story, the font is appealing, and it will hold up over time. Contemporary realism about girls always runs a risk of pink, headless girls, and soft lighting, and it’s nice that this one is straightforward and classy.

However, when I looked at Goodreads for alternate covers, I found this absolutely beautiful ebook cover! Here we have an illustrated version of Izzy’s face, constructed with the materials that make her unique – just as her artwork is described in the book. Why is this beautiful edition wasted on ebooks! Can I get that on a paperback please?

Does it Break the Slate?  YES! Oh, Izzy, you are a Slatebreaker at heart, and this book addresses feminist issues through a hilarious, empathetic lens. Raf also integrates humor into her story in a Slatebreaking way. This book made me laugh out loud, and the humor is based in very real elements of the female experience.

Who would we give it to?  I hope this book finds an audience with readers of Maureen Johnson and Libba Bray – Raf is another writer with a skilled grasp of the fine line between comedy and tragedy and how those things can be distilled into the contemporary teenage experience.

Review: Izzy is keeping it together, but barely. Her mother is sick, and maybe sicker than she’s letting on. Her best friend has undergone a strange transformation. She has to put together an art portfolio in a short amount of time, but she’s also been committed to set design for the school production of Oklahoma! and roped into decorations for the school dance. She keeps embarrassing herself in front of boys and her boobs are way bigger than she’s comfortable with. There are a ton of minor plot points to balance, but ultimately the narrative makes it work.

The biggest reason this book works is that Izzy is such a relatable, empathetic character. I found myself rooting for her completely. I also totally identified with her. She makes some stupid choices throughout the book, but she’s also wonderfully real, and her voice really drives the story forward.

Also, as I mentioned earlier, the humor is a huge part of what makes the book work, and what makes it Slatebreaking. Even though Izzy and her friends are going through big stuff, mild and major trauma can still be material for great comedy.

Raf also makes a point of talking about the female body and the way we frame the female body in society. Izzy feels both proud of and embarrassed by her body – she recognizes the mixed messages she’s getting from the world around her but is still in the process of negotiating how to respond to that. It’s refreshing to read a book that not only talks about breasts from a humorous and life-change perspective, but acknowledges the complicated messaging that girls hear about their bodies as they change. Pushing back against the objectification of the female body becomes a major thematic undercurrent  of the book.

There’s also some really frank explorations of sex, and how that can relate to girls’ reputations and perceptions (across genders). One character is a victim of a false rumor, which damages her friendships and reputations (from both adult and teen characters). Another is embarrassed to talk about her own sexual experiences for fear of being judged. When a picture of boobs goes viral across the school, I really enjoyed the girl-driven, empowering solution that the characters come up with to protect each other. Even though there’s a lot going on, it doesn’t ever feel preachy or contrived, nor does it take the power away from the female teenage characters, which I really appreciated.

The only thing that I was left wishing for was one character to have a positive sexual experience. The negative experiences that the different characters have are dealt with in really constructive, thoughtful ways,  but I would also love to see sexual experiences happen without any negative fallout to balance it out a little. There are the inclinations of good things to come, but I wanted to see it more present, directly in the narrative.

Overall though, this is a terrific first novel. I can’t wait to see what comes next from the writer. To hear more about Mindy Raf, check back on Thursday for our author interview!

Reviewed from library copy.

Genre: Fiction/fairy tale easy reader.

Face Value: This book cover is designed to look like a traditional fairy tale, and it’s an accurate reflection of the story. I had to laugh at the cover of the book I picked up from the library. Even though this story is about Rosamund, the unusually gifted woman who is the only suitable mate for the prince, they slapped a barcode right on top of her face. On the version that I read, Rosamund is not even visible on the cover. The prince and wolf are clearly visible but you cannot even tell that the other character on the cover is a woman, except for a peek of her pink dress at the bottom. It is frustrating to see such careless placement of a barcode.

Does it break the slate? It’s not a slate-smashing book, but there are certainly elements that challenge the typical gender roles that we see in most fairy tales. It is a more Slatebreaking option than most fairy tale and princess-themed stories.

Who would we give it to? Fans of Brave will appreciate the themes of The King’s Equal. I would love to watch a parent read this book with their child and then discuss the gender roles presented within. It’s also a great contrast to traditional fairy tales, so it would be an excellent book to present to any young person studying fairy tales to show them how these types of stories can be written in a way that presents strong and intelligent females.

Review: I am fascinated by the many ways in which people can challenge the status quo. There are those who speak loudly and make it boldly known that they oppose the way things have been. There are others who quietly and subversively make change that goes unnoticed until it builds into something big. Both approaches have an appropriate context, and both can be effective. When it comes to Slatebreaking books, I tend to like stories that boldly bust stereotypes. That’s why I was pleasantly surprised by The King’s Equal. It is a quiet but powerful book, cleverly using familiar fairy tale tropes in ways that challenge traditional gender roles.

The story starts as many other fairy tales do: a prince is in need of a wife. All of the wisest court advisors are gathered to bring forth suitable candidates. When they all fail to live up to the arrogant prince’s expectations, the prince sentences his advisors to the dungeon and the kingdom falls into chaos.

Meanwhile, there’s a humble, working class girl who is wise and beautiful and diligent. She encounters a magical wolf that encourages her to present herself to the court as a potential mate for the prince. She is successful, but there’s a twist: she refuses to accept the prince as he is now. Rosamund sends him away to spend a year living simply.

The following year is a time of change and evolution for both characters. The prince has to reassess his value system and develop a work ethic. Rosamund grows from a quiet country girl into a capable leader. At the end of the year, they form a mutual partnership of affection and collaboration to lead together.

Although this fairy tale still maintains a heterosexual romantic relationship as the heart of the tale, it does significant work in challenging gender roles. Rosamund is a more understanding and adept ruler than prince Raphael. After his year of solitude, prince Raphael is more comfortable with domestic tasks. It’s a nice alternative to fairy tales with female characters who never assert themselves. Rosamund’s shining moment happens when she stands before the prince and his male advisors and tells them that she won’t marry him simply because she’s deemed worthy. He has to prove his value, too. It’s that simple example of relationship equality that makes this book a worthwhile addition to the reading list of any young reader with a penchant for fairy tales.

Reviewed from library copy.

Genre: Middle Grade Realistic Fiction

Face Value: I like this cover, and it fits the book. It looks young, but I think that this book plays best on the younger end of middle grade anyway, so it will appeal to its audience well. Emily is the focus, of the engaging illustration, the books look exciting and hint at the story. I don’t know what the cat has to do with anything though.

Does it Break the Slate? Emily is well on her way to being a Slatebreaker, and she shows the necessary self-determination to get there. She is absolutely determined to take her life into her own hands and when she breaks free of the “destiny” she thought she was stuck with, it is an outstanding Slatebreaking moment.

Who would we give it to? Literary girls, who will get wrapped up in the romance of a secret in a book of poetry and an adventure to find yourself. If you have a young reader with an interest in poetry (or romance novels, actually), this would be a nice fit.

Review: Emily Elizabeth Davis was named after Emily Dickinson. Her English professor mother named her that, believing that it would shape her destiny. So Emily believes that she is destined to become a famous poet, which is ok, but she actually isn’t all that into poetry. What she’s really interested in romance. Particularly the happy endings that she sees in romance novels – she frequently writes to Danielle Steele to ask her opinion about her biggest quandary. She doesn’t know who her father is, and her mother won’t give up the information. But just as Emily discovers that her book of Emily Dickinson poetry holds the key to her father’s identity, the book is accidentally lost and Emily ends up on a citywide search for her book and the secrets it holds to her destiny.

The conflict in the book is pretty mild, and it all wraps up too easily. There’s barely a moment to worry over what might happen – it comes together exactly the way it’s “meant to.” But what is lacking in plot is balanced out by likable characters and some great Slatebreaking moments.

From a Slatebreaking point of view, the best part of this book is that Emily really finds the strength to take her destiny into her own hands. Emily was named after Emily Dickinson, and feels this tremendous pressure to love Dickinson’s poetry as much as her mother does. Wouldn’t you? The inscription in her Emily Dickinson book reads

“Emily Dickinson is one of the great poets

The same will be said of you one day.”

Beautiful sentiment, sure, but also a whole lot of pressure. So when Emily finally recovers her book, she ends up giving it’s destiny-shaping inscription away. And when she does, she realizes, she feels free. Now she can be the person that she wanted to be, without feeling the pressure of fate and others’ expectations pushing

It’s also a fight against literary snobbery. Danielle Steel and romance novels are just as valid as Emily Dickinson, and Emily gets to be the person she wants to be and love the literature she wants to love. I can definitely get behind that.

Reviewed from library copy.

Genre: YA Realistic Fiction

Face Value: I appreciate that the girl’s body on this cover is true to the character. Although it would be even nicer to see a real person as the cover model, this cover is well done – it’s clear and bold, and the many elements floating inside the shape of Angie capture the confusion of her current state. I also want to give some positive credit to the book trailer for Fat Angie. It features live actors who actually look like the characters who are described in the story.

Does it break the slate? By the end of the book it does, but it takes a while to get there. Angie’s family situation is desolate, to the point when any scenes involving her and her mother are painful to read. I hated those scenes because they represented everything awful about the way women embody societal expectations of appearance and behavior and torture themselves into compliance. Angie gradually pulls herself into a place of better self-esteem and self-image – but she still has a lot of naysayers in her life. The book concludes in a Slatebreaking tone, but it is tenuous. I can only hope that Angie has the strength to continue to be a Slatebreaker.

Who would we give it to? The core of Angie’s story is about grief and loss. Readers coping with a traumatic loss may empathize with Angie. It is a dark story, however, and has some potential triggers for self-harmers and those coping with eating disorders.

Review: Let’s talk about YA books featuring obese characters. I am curious about the way different types of bodies are portrayed in fiction, which leads me to occasionally pick up books that focus on the physical attributes of a character. For me, this is always an interesting study in how authors describe bodies. Some focus on the external appearance of the character. Others focus on the way the character feels in his or her body. Fat Angie was an interesting blend of these traits. The author did spend a lot of time describing the way other people saw Angie’s body, but Charlton-Trujillo also focuses on the distorted way in which Angie sees herself. Much of that distortion is difficult to read because it is so cruel – but it shows the reader exactly how much trauma Angie has been through.

One of the strategies that the author uses to show us how Angie views herself is to constantly refer to the character as Fat Angie throughout the book. It’s relentless, and I found it very difficult to read – mostly because I wanted to author to stop doing that. But the repetitive use of that epithet, even when Angie was referring to herself, drove the point home. Angie has been bullied and cut down for so long that she truly does think of herself that way. Only at the end of the book, when she begins to pull away from that negative mindset, does she refer to herself as just Angie. It was a powerful and uncomfortable way for the author to make a point, but I found it effective.

Angie’s story touches on a number of stresses that affect adolescents: bullying at school, split families, body image, strained relationships with parents and siblings, self-harm, and coming out. And although many teen characters in YA deal with one or two of these issues, Angie is dealing with all of them. Plus she is working through her own grief at the loss of her sister. Angie’s sister joined the military and went to fight in Iraq, where she was then kidnapped and held hostage. The media was all over the story. The family meltdown that followed, and the uncertainty of whether or not her sister was alive or dead, sent Angie into a downward spiral.

Angie is at absolute rock bottom when the story starts. She makes choices of her own accord that propel her into a stronger, healthier mental and physical state. I loved reading this transformation because it showed that Angie did have the power to change her own situation, no matter how little she believed it. She also falls in love with an amazing and similarly flawed girl, KC Romance. Angie’s friendship and eventual romance with KC is beautiful and rocky and feels so absolutely truthful to how a high school relationship evolves. The author does an amazing job of describing Angie’s emerging awareness of her sexual orientation, and KC is the perfect friend and partner for Angie as they both go through some dark stuff.

This book grew on me while I was reading it. It’s not a fun or easy book to read. Angie and KC fight against hurt and pain and cruelty every day, and we have to witness that from the vantage point of a reader who can’t step in to change anything. Thankfully, Angie uncovers the power to change some things on her own.

Reviewed from a digital ARC courtesy of the publisher, distributed via NetGalley.