I Know What You Did Last Summer by Lois Duncan

 

Reviewed by Jeanne

Four teenagers are heading home after an evening of fun.  Driving down a mountain road, the car hits a young boy on a bicycle.  The teens panic; Barry, the driver, is eighteen and considered an adult.  If they report this, he’ll do jail time.  The four agree, somewhat reluctantly, to keep the accident a secret, but Ray and Julie are deeply troubled about it. Ray insists on at least calling 911 to try to get help for the boy.

That was a year ago.

Julie, once a bubbly cheerleader, has become a more somber, studious girl.  Helen’s life has only changed for the better: she’s a TV personality with her own apartment away from her struggling family. Football hero and only child Barry has finished his first year of college and is looking forward to a backpacking trip to Europe, away from his doting parents. He’s also more than ready to put some distance between himself and Helen.  They aren’t sure about Ray.  He left town after the accident, headed to California.

Then Julie gets a letter with no return address.  “I know what you did last summer” is all it says.  Is it a prank—or a threat?

Back in the day, mystery titles for children were mostly those featuring sleuths such as Nancy Drew, Trixie Belden, Hardy Boys, or the Three Investigators.  There were a few others, including a personal favorite, Brains Benton. From there it was on to adult authors like Agatha Christie.

Then a few authors began writing books that were edgier, books about real teens who found themselves in dire situations. I Know What You Did Last Summer came out in 1973 and created quite the stir. These teens had committed a crime! They mention smoking pot! They drink beer! (None of which is portrayed.) They have a stalker who means bodily harm!

This was definitely not a Nancy Drew book.

Naturally, this attracted the attention of Hollywood who optioned the novel for a movie.  Duncan was thrilled. When the movie opened, she was in the theater with her popcorn ready to see her book on the screen. She did wonder why there a man with a hook.

She soon found out.

She didn’t even eat her popcorn.

Former teen librarian Pam Neal said Duncan wrote an apology to all her fans, regretting that her suspense novel had become an urban legend slasher film. In an interview Duncan said she was “horrified.” The violence was sensationalized, which was particularly painful because Duncan’s daughter Kaitlyn had been shot to death by an unknown person just a few years before the movie.

Now the rebooted version of the I Know What You Did Last Summer is in theatres and from all reports it bears even less resemblance to the book than the first movie did.  I decided it was a good time to go back to the source material, so I picked up a copy of the book, albeit a slightly altered version.  In 2010, Duncan revised her book a bit, adding mentions of things like cell phones and GPS which didn’t exist back in 1973. She changed the war in the background to Iraq instead of Viet Nam, and made a few other changes to suit the times. Of course, that was fifteen years ago; there are a few things that seem slightly dated now but not so much that it took me out of the story.

Overall, I think the book has held up well. While more modern books may have grittier plots, the core parts of the book—the characters and the suspense—still work for me. This was a groundbreaking book in YA literature, one that led the way for such authors as Joan Lowery Nixon, Holly Jackson, and Karen McManus. It makes me sad that the novel is so little known.

As for the movie, I’ll pass.

Fat Chance, Charlie Vega by Crystal Maldonado

 

Reviewed by Kristin

Being part Puerto Rican, Charlie Vega sometimes she feels as if she sticks out in her Connecticut community. It’s not just her skin tone—Charlie has a larger body, something she and her white mom used to have in common, but now her mom has lost a great deal of weight. Mom thinks she is being encouraging by leaving weight loss shakes for Charlie, and just does not understand that her actions make Charlie feel anxious and uncomfortable. Charlie is athletic and at ease in her own body, and wishes her mom would let her be.

Charlie is totally into a boy in her class—Cal. Her best friend Amelia thinks that Charlie shouldn’t waste her time, and that is all the more complicated because it turns out that Cal is talking to Charlie just to get closer to Amelia—oh what a teenage mess!

School is easy for Charlie, especially her writing class. She is also artistic, and enjoys her art class even if it takes her weeks to get through one project. She manages to complete all her schoolwork on top of a part time job. Moreover, it just so happens that her art classmate Brian works for the same company. Now that Charlie has noticed him, she feels a spark of attraction to him as a handsome and kind human being.

This is a modern coming of age story where the teenagers do seem to be more self-aware than I was at that age. Or admittedly, maybe it just takes a little time and distance to be able to look back at your own teenage self and body image. I remember having a health teacher who was also the swim coach. She said that when she was a teenager she was “so fat”. She talked about her binges at fast food restaurants, and said that she was a size (gasp) 16.

Reading how Charlie feels at her mom’s urges to diet and work out, I was taken back to my own size 16 teenage self listening to that teacher. Seeing Charlie’s insecurities about boys and friends made me recall those years in my own life. I am glad there are more books these days stressing health and body positivity.

I also really liked the diverse characters. Even Charlie’s mom was a complex person who was dealing with the loss of her husband and her new reality as a single mom. I enjoyed this as a pleasant audiobook taking me through my daily drives to work. Fat Chance, Charlie Vega can be borrowed in print from other libraries in the OWL consortium, or checked out in e-book or audiobook format via Tennessee READS.

Improbable Magic for Cynical Witches by Kate Scelsa

Note:  There is not have a Nevermore report for today, but we do have a review from the wonderful Ambrea, reader extraordinaire!

Reviewed by Ambrea 

Despite living in Salem—yes, that Salem—for years, Eleanor doesn’t remotely believe in witchcraft.  She doesn’t much believe in luck, either, not after being publicly humiliated and ostracized by her former friends and classmates.  Admittedly, she’s spent the past year in a fog, dealing with her mother’s medical diagnosis, while simultaneously fighting her growing apathy and her recurring anxiety.  But after a handwritten guide to tarot shows up at the souvenir shop where she works, Eleanor’s life takes an unexpected turn. 

It isn’t long before she meets Pix, a real-life witch, and the rest of her coven.  Although the jury is still out when it comes to magic and witchcraft, Eleanor still finds herself drawn to Pix and her friends.  Even as Eleanor grapples with her complicated past with Salem and her mother’s deteriorating health, she slowly finds herself believing that maybe—just maybe—magic might be closer than she expects.

Improbable Magic for Cynical Witches by Kate Scelsa is romantic coming-of-age story about making peace with the past and overcoming trauma.  It is not, sadly, a fantasy novel.  I picked up this particular book expecting something fanciful, expecting some actual magic.  If not the overt sorcery and fantastical elements of The Very Secret Society of Irregular Witches by Sangu Mandanna, then perhaps the more subtle magical realism that imbues the every day with a little extra sparkle, like in Garden Spells by Sarah Addison Allen.  Instead, I discovered this book is heavy on the realism—and less so on the magic.  (I’m willing to admit I was a smidge disappointed when I realized this.) 

Despite this initial setback, however, I did actually enjoy reading Improbable Magic for Cynical Witches.  First and foremost, I liked the arrangement of Scelsa’s novel.  Each chapter is preceded by a page from the mysterious tarot guide Eleanor receives in the mail, which provides a cheeky overview of the Major Arcana in a tarot deck.  These chapters foreshadow in a very big way, providing unexpected insight into Eleanor and her personal journey, as well as providing a unique structure to the novel.

Likewise, I also enjoyed hearing Eleanor tell her story in her own words.  She’s an excellent narrator:  she has snark, she has snap, she has bite.  She is a teenager struggling to cope with the loss of her best friend and worrying about her mother’s fairly recent medical diagnosis and fighting to keep her head above water when her anxiety wants nothing more than to pull her under.  She tells her story with so much emotion, giving her journey both nuance and depth, that I couldn’t help being drawn into her narrative time and time again.

Truthfully, I liked following Eleanor’s progress as she admits her failures and narrates her subsequent successes.  Her growth, her path to healing her wounds and overcoming her trauma, is a painful process—one might even say excruciating—but it feels like such a triumph when we reach the end of the story with her.  She grows as a person, she learns.  She isn’t merely a static character; instead, she comes to accept her failures and forgive herself for them.  She allows other people into her narrow world—more importantly, she allows herself to fall in love again—and she begins to open her eyes to new possibilities.  It’s so heartening to see Eleanor go from an anxious, shutdown, angsty teenager to a young woman open to change, open to new ways of thinking.

Overall, Improbable Magic for Cynical Witches may not be the fantasy novel I was expected, but it is an enchanting novel about growth, forgiveness, friendship, and newfound love.

 

Tuesdays with Ambrea: A Monster Calls by Patrick Ness

 

Reviewed by Ambrea

Ever since his mother was diagnosed with cancer, Conor has experienced the same nightmare over and over again.  Darkness, wind, screams—it’s not just a nightmare anymore, but the Nightmare.  The one he has almost every night.  One night, however, Conor wakes and discovers he has a visitor:  a monster has come calling and it has stories to tell—true stories that will make Conor finally see the truth he’s avoided all along.

I’ve been interested in reading Patrick Ness’s books for a very long time.  In fact, I have several of his novels on my reading list, but I’ve never picked up one of his books, until now—and I can’t help wondering why I waited so long, because his work is extraordinary.  A Monster Calls is an amazing novel that packs a wallop, but, even more so, it’s beautifully written, complex, rich, and gripping.  It’s a story that will stick it’s hooks into your heart and never let go.

Originally, I picked up A Monster Calls with the intention of reading it for Halloween.  Here was a book about monsters, so it was the perfect pick for the spooky season, right?

Well.  Yes, and no.

Yes, it features a monster or two; however, it isn’t so simple as a monster terrorizing a teenager or a spooky story for the holiday season.  It’s a complicated, compelling—and, truthfully, heart-wrenching—story about grief and loss, fear and pain, truth and fairness.  Like the monster’s stories for Conor, this novel subverts all my expectations and turns the story on its head.  I expected to be unsettled or, worse, terrified by a monster; I didn’t expect to feel like I’d just had my heart torn out and trampled. 

A Monster Calls is not a horror story—at least, not your standard horror story.  It doesn’t have creatures that will jump out and scare you; it doesn’t have ghosts that will terrify you; it doesn’t have blood and gore and horror movie levels of carnage.  Instead, it looks at real loss and fear and grief.  It looks the nightmare of losing the absolute most important person in your life, along with the fear, guilt, and grief that comes with it. 

It’s very real, it’s very raw, and it’s very painful.

I’ll be honest, Ness’s novel gutted me.  A Monster Calls isn’t just a spooky story or a tear-jerker; it’s a one-two punch-in-the-stomach kind of book.  It’s one of those rare stories that takes brass knuckles to your chest and leaves your heart feeling bruised, possibly bettered, very likely broken, but you thank the author anyway.  To put it simply, it gave me a lot of feelings—and, even though it’s been a few months, I’m still processing.

A Monster Calls is a beautiful, terrible story.  It’s also easily one of my favorite YA novels of all time.

Tuesdays with Ambrea: A Wish in the Dark by Christina Soontornvat

 

 

Reviewed by Ambrea

According to history, the Governor saved Chattana after the Great Fire.  He brought light in the darkness and rebuilt the city with his magic.  Pong, who was born in Namwon Prison, dreams of one day being able to bask in that light.  When he finally makes his escape, he discovers the world beyond his prison bars is no better—even worse, his prison tattoo forever marks as a fugitive.  Nok, who is the prison warden’s daughter, is obsessed with tracking down Pong and earning the Governor’s favor, but, in the process, she’ll discover that not every story she’s been told is true.

I absolutely loved—and I mean loved—reading A Wish in the Dark by Christina Soontornvat.  Not only does it craft a beautifully descriptive fantasy world, which I adored, it weaves a complex story that feels both modern and relevant.  (It’s also inspired by Victor Hugo’s classic, Les Misérables, which I found fascinating, and it’s a Newberry Honor Book.  It has quite an impressive reputation already.)

One of the things I appreciated most about this novel is its depth.  Soontornvat expresses both emotion and detail remarkably well.  Sure, I fell in the love with the setting—well, I fell in love with the cover of the book, and then I fell in love with the setting, even if it did begin behind prison walls—and I adored the author’s use of language; however, I quickly learned that A Wish in the Dark is one of those novels that grabs onto your heart and your mind and refuses to let go. 

As I followed Pong on his journey, during his escape and his fight for survival and his efforts to defy the fate he believes chases him, I found his plight tugged at my heart.  His ordeal is painful, and his heartbreak—his terror, his hope, his fears—feel very real.  It’s a bit of a kick in the chest, if I’m being honest, because, as a reader, I was constantly being presented with difficult topics and questions of morality.

Soontornvat’s novel deals with concepts of truth, justice, and fairness, and it poses the question:  It is really justice when you know it isn’t fair?  Is it really justice when you know it isn’t right?  Nok, like the reader, tries to follow these questions and find an answer.  It’s definitely an uncomfortable journey, and I have to say A Wish in the Dark really made me sit back and think about my own ideas of fairness.

Even so, I loved reading this novel.  Although it does run slightly longer than I expected, it isn’t a difficult novel to read and it’s well worth the journey.  It’s a fascinating, thought-provoking story—and I’m so very glad I had the chance to read it.