Mockingbird: Review

Synopsis: An unforgettable story in the tradition of The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night Time.

In Caitlin’s world, everything is black or white. Things are good or bad. Anything in between is confusing. That’s the stuff Caitlin’s older brother, Devon, has always explained. But now Devon’s dead and Dad is no help at all. Caitlin wants to get over it, but as an eleven-year-old girl with Asperger’s, she doesn’t know how. When she reads the definition of closure, she realizes that is what she needs. In her search for it, Caitlin discovers that not everything is black and white—the world is full of colors—messy and beautiful. 


Details: "Mockingbird" by Kathryn Erskine, 224 pages, 3.98 stars on Goodreads


My Thoughts: Even though I usually review young adult books on this blog, the synopsis of this upper middle grade novel intrigued me. I know someone with Asperger's (although I don't know her very well, but she goes to my school), so I was interested in reading a book from the point of view of a girl with Asperger's. Kathryn Erskine did an excellent job of portraying how Caitlin thinks differently from others and has difficulty understanding how to socially interact, but how she's by no means any less intelligent because of it. 


Caitlin's older brother, Devon, was always the one who helped her. He told her when it was okay to say certain things and when it wasn't, and whenever she was sad, he would make her feel better. Prior to the start of the book, there was a school shooting and Devon was killed. Her father is racked by grief, and Caitlin feels alone in the world. Time and time again through the book, my eyes watered, and I didn't even realize it until several minutes later. The book completely engrossed me, far beyond what I expected.

"Mockingbird" was powerful and honest. No matter how old you are, it's still a moving read, and definitely worth being picked up. It's really eye-opening to see the world through Caitlin's eyes, how she doesn't always understand idioms or why when people smile they're not always happy. Some people found her affinity for art to be cliché, but I thought it added a nice touch to the story even if it is used a lot. 5 smilies out of 5.

Being Observant

Every day, I have to walk my dog because for some reason when I was nine, I told my parents that if we got a dog, I would walk it every single day without any complaints. So we got a dog. And I walk it every single day (well, mostly, anyway). As for no complaining... well, I mean, that's not really important.

My method of dealing with things that bore me to tears is to space out. And I mean, really space out. I have basically no memory of French class. I can recall walking in, putting my books down, and then walking out when the bell rings. This was not news to my French teacher, who liked to call on me. Someone sitting next to me would proceed to stab me in the forearm with a pen until I wake up, at which point I would say in an embarrassingly loud and startled tone, "What?"

My teacher would give a derisive snort and then threaten me with detention. (For the record: he only ever gave me detention once in three years. I'm actually not sure what I got it for, considering that was one of the days where I'd paid attention and I did my homework and everything. But he's not the kind of guy you argue with.)

As walking a dog in searing hot weather is among the things that bores me, I usually withdraw inside myself and idly think about random things. This gets to the point where I sometimes stumble off the sidewalk and begin walking in the middle of a busy road without quite realizing it. My dog has saved my life more than once by darting after a squirrel on someone's lawn.

However, I recently read a post about how it's important to be observant as a writer. I decided to actually pay attention to stuff that happens around me as I walked my dog, because right now in my WIP, my character is an icky spot and I wasn't sure how to save him.

These are the things I observed:

- A butterfly and a moth were floating near a flower, and suddenly the butterfly flung itself at the moth, knocking it to the ground. The poor moth twitched on the grass while the butterfly smashed its wings against it again and again until it was dead. Reminded me of school.

- The exact way a terrifyingly large mosquito sucks blood from your suddenly-skinnier-and-paler arm, and how it feels to be such an insect-phobe that you can't even slap it away, but you don't want that horrible beast on your flesh. Also, it hurts.

- A little girl bashing a little boy's head in with a red plastic shovel while her mother coos, "Aww, how cute!"

- My dog sniffing feces.

- My dog sniffing more feces.

- My dog eating f- oh wait, okay, that's just not right.

And then, a squirrel raced past me, an orange clamped in its mouth. And inspiration struck. I suddenly knew exactly how to save my MC, and it had nothing to do with squirrels, oranges, or racing past teenage girls. I'm still not actually sure if the idea would have come to me whether I observed or not, but I guess it didn't hurt.

What about you? Do you make yourself pay extra attention to things going on around you, and does it actually help your writing?

City of Bones: Review

Synopsis: When fifteen-year-old Clary Fray heads out to the Pandemonium Club in New York City, she hardly expects to witness a murder - much less a murder committed by three teenagers covered with strange tattoos and brandishing bizarre weapons. Then the body disappears into thin air. It's hard to call the police when the murderers are invisible to everyone else and when there is nothing - not even a smear of blood - to show that a boy has died. Or was he a boy?

This is Clary's first meeting with the Shadowhunters, warriors dedicated to ridding the earth of demons. It's also her first encounter with Jace, a Shadowhunter who looks a little like an angel and acts a lot like a jerk. Within twenty-four hours Clary is pulled into Jace's world with a vengeance, when her mother disappears and Clary herself is attacked by a demon. But why would demons be interested in ordinary mundanes like Clary and her mother? And how did Clary suddenly get the Sight? The Shadowhunters would like to know....

Exotic and gritty, exhilarating and utterly gripping, Cassandra Clare's ferociously entertaining fantasy takes readers on a wild ride that they will never want to end.

Details: "City of Bones" by Cassandra Clare, 485 pages, 4.16 stars on Goodreads

My Thoughts: I know, I know, where have I been? I was going to read this, like, four hundred years ago, but then a certain friend of mine was telling me how this was exactly like Harry Potter and how utterly obnoxious that stupid Jace was and how horribly cliché Jace and Clary's relationship was. So I thought, well, gee, I don't want to read a book exactly like Harry Potter with an obnoxious love interest and a cliché relationship. And I didn't. But then on someone's blog, there was a page filled with quotes from this book, and they were hilarious (cuckoo bird, anyone? yeah, yeah, I know, that's from "City of Ashes"). 


Twelve pages into the book, I emailed that certain friend.

This book was absolutely amazing. I mean, okay, there were some small similarities to Harry Potter, like the Valentine <-> Voldemort and Hodge <-> Dumbledore, but **spoiler alert** Valentine turns out to be Clary and Jace's father (which is so incredibly cruel of the author), and Hodge is more like that turbaned guy from the first Harry Potter book than Dumbledore and so **end spoiler alert** it's different. 


And maybe Jace is a little bit obnoxious here and there, but it's all part of his uber-hot charm. Oh, yes, he's uber-uber-uber-hot. He's the embodiment of hotness. Squared. I love his clever comments (especially that cuckoo thing - I can't get over the awesomeness of that) and his witty remarks. They make great comic relief without getting in the way of the story. The only thing I didn't like so much about him was towards the end in that one scene with Valentine. I felt like he transformed way too drastically, but that was okay because he soon became uber-hot again.


Jace and Clary may have a somewhat cliché relationship, but I dare you to write a romance that isn't cliché in the least. It's impossible, right? Right. Besides, they're so insanely perfect for each other. The only relationship that could possibly be better is Jace and me. Hmm? No, why would I be kidding? Why are you LAUGHING? Hmph!

Clary was a good protagonist, but I didn't like how quickly she abandoned Simon. It was like, "Oh, look, uber-hot guy! Let's forget I ever had a life long best friend who needs me!" I kept feeling really bad for Simon, because Clary was abandoning him and everyone else was being so mean. And the kicker was when he had to watch the girl he's loved forever kiss the guy he hates most in the world. Poor Simon. I hope things improve for him in the third book. 

Overall, this was a super amazing book! I'm probably the last person in the world who hadn't read it, but if you haven't, you must. It's not an option. 5 smilies out of 5!

Milestones Blogfest (of DOOM!)

I have such a long list of books I need to review, but I'd much rather do this today. Now listen close, friends, for I will tell you a dark tale of... (scary music cue) PHYSICAL EDUCATION CLASS! Muahahahaha!

It was a dark and stormy night. No, wait, actually, it was day time, and I think the sun was shining. Darn sun. But inside the gymnasium, it was dark with fear and stormy with anger! Anger at the injustice of our situation!

We - the seventh grade students - huddled in a corner, while our gym teacher marched up and down the length of the gym, muttering to herself. Every so often, she would raise her voice to a caterwaul, so what we heard was: "Today mumble mumble mumble ARCHERYYYYY mumble mumble mumble mumble and I want EVERYONE mumble must say at least one hundred and fifty feet away from Izzy!"

I blinked. "What? Why?"

She spun around and glared at me through her hawk eyes, her wrinkled skin shuddering over her bones. "You of all people ask why? Last week we ran the mile. A simple exercise that involves hardly any physical exertion. And yet everyone who stayed close to you got injured! Look around!"

I surveyed the class. Most students were wrapped in bandages - was it already Halloween? - and others were bleeding profusely on the floor. Great, just great. Now the floor would be slippery.

The teacher muttered and caterwauled on, until all I heard was a faint buzzing. I started thinking about yummy food - oh, the yummy food! I imagined drowning in pastries, in ice cream, devouring cakes and cookies galore!

"Izzy? Izzy? ISABELLA! SNAP OUT OF IT!"

I let out a cry and backed up, falling against some kid. He cushioned my fall, and I stood up. For some reason, he continued to lie on the floor, obviously blocking everyone's path, so I kicked him out of the way. "Huh? What's going on?"

My friend shoved a bow and some arrows into my hand, eyes darting around. "I'll see you later," she croaked, and then she ran away.

Weird. I shrugged and aimed for the target. The buzzing was back, which meant that the teacher must be talking. How irritating. I let loose an arrow, which plunged through three kids and then impaled them to the wall. Darn kids, getting in the way of my target.

The buzzing was even louder, and now some kids were screaming. Did they mind?! I was trying to concentrate! I aimed again, but the arrow just buried itself in my teacher's scalp. The buzzing went away, finally.

Before long, I was out of arrows, but at least most of the screams had died down, even if none of the arrows landed anywhere near the target. I grabbed some more and kept trying, because you know what they say! Try, try, try again!

I got ready to release the arrow, when a kid with black hair crawled up to me. "Please," he said, tears filling his anguished face. "Please! I've never been mean to you! Ever! I - I wouldn't mind being your friend. Well, actually, I take that back. Just ignore that bit. But I've never -"

I shrugged and let the arrow go, certain it would hit bull's eye. Unfortunately, it went down for some reason, and the kid made this weird screechy noise before slumping to the floor, blood pooling around him. Geez, what a wimp.

One hundred arrows later (some were bloodstained because I ran out), I finally managed to get an arrow in the very edge of the target. "Okay, I'm good," I said to the cop, who had been cowering behind a table.

He grabbed my hands and started to force them into a pair of handcuffs. "You have the right..." he intoned, and all I heard was a buzzing again. But, what the hey! I'd finally managed to get an arrow on the target.

I studied the bull's eye. "Wait a second, I think I'm going to try and hit that before you take me to wherever it is you want to go."