My Nook is still trying to figure out what I like, so I’m trying to give it a push in the right direction by searching for books similar to my favorites. Susanna Kearsley’s The Winter Sea turned up as a Diana Gabaldon read-alike, so I was duly intrigued. I love Gabaldon and eighteenth century Scotland (when it was still a bit wild and rebellious), and I had been experiencing some serious withdrawal with regards to both. The Winter Sea did not disappoint.

The story moves swiftly  between the lives of writer, Carrie McClelland, and Sophia Paterson, a young woman who is sheltered by the Countess of Erroll at Slains Castle. Working on a new novel, Carrie is drawn to Slains during a weekend trip to Scotland, feeling that there is something about the place that will make her new novel come to life. Centuries before, Sophia is also drawn to Slains Castle after the death of her uncle leaves her without a guardian. A newcomer in a strange place, Sophia soon finds herself welcomed by the Castle’s residents and becomes enmeshed in a series of events that have both personal and political implications as loyal Scots, and friends to the Count and Countess of Slains, take part in a plot to restore Prince Charles to the thrown.

Initially, I questioned the dual time frame, but when the connection between Carrie and Sophia emerged, I found myself enjoying the novel more and more. Both timelines are fully realized, as are the characters that people them, so neither plot feels lacking. While not as fast paced as Outlander, Kearsley’s narrative style soon had me craving more (hello, Nook wishlist).

Clementine Pritchard has it all figured out, down to the last detail. She’s over the deadening meds and the personal dramas, it’s time to depart. And that is exactly what Clementine sets out to do, choosing the means to end her life with as little mess as possible and leaving all her baggage in order. Counting down to the day when she’ll settle in for good, she starts on a 30 day journey to pick her poison, make her mark final mark on art, and resolve all the little issues left over from a childhood gone wrong.

Suicide is a delicate subject, so this review starts with a caveat–whatever your views on the matter, if you don’t want to read about suicide, don’t read this one. That said, Ream manages to take a generally morbid subject and turn it into something witty and engaging. Clementine is a great character; fully realized and colorful, she adds snark as much as poignancy to the story. This could be a very dark novel, dealing with extreme depression, abandonment, and personal fears, Clementine’s narrative has the potential to become an existentialist playground, but it just manages to steer clear of that as Clementine finds meaning in the madness.

This is an oddly entertaining novel, if you don’t mind a bit of dark humor. Clementine’s constant need to pee, her renewed sense of flavor after dumping her cocktail of antidepressants, and her unapologetic determination to do things her way, including leaving her car as the tip after a lavish last meal to ensure it does not become a loose end after her death, add a tragicomic element that make the story more than just a manic depressive’s final manifesto.

I received my copy from William Morrow.

Hugo Petrus’s illustrations just scream classic, fanboy comic world. As one amazon reviewer put it, “Other than Lizzy and Mr. Darcy, the girls look like 80s porn stars and her mom looks like Granny Goodness from the animated JLA series.”

They do. The hair is big and the expressions are fierce, while the color palette applied to the first half of the series is extremely harsh and orange. It just made me cringe. Great cover art, disappointing story art.

That said, the holidays seemed like the perfect time to read Marvel Illustrated’s adaptation of Sense & Sensibility by Nancy Butler and illustrated by Sonny Liew. Given that SS is one of Austen’s longest novels, adapting the text into a comic book format, speech bubbles and all, could not have been an easy feat. Butler’s text manages to retain the essence of the original, while Liew’s illustrations help reveal complexities of character and plot that might otherwise be lost in the simplified narrative.

My only complaints are that a few of the characters, especially Colonel Brandon, reminded me a bit too much of the actors in the BBC’s 2008 adaptation, and that Lucy was presented as a much more sympathetic character than she was in the book.

Nevertheless, I like it as a graphic novel and can see this being a great way to engage students in a class on visual-textual literacy.

Born Wicked by Jessica Spotswood

Scheduled Release: Feb. 2012

Growing up female in a patriarchal society that views women as little more than decorative objects is never easy, especially for a trio of smart, intrepid sisters. Growing up a witch in a society governed by religious zealots that view magical ability as an evil sign of female wickedness can prove even harder. Left in the care of their distant father after their mother’s untimely death, Cate, Maura, and Tess bear the truth of their magical heritage, keeping it secret for fear of retribution from the Brotherhood that rules the country. Unsure where to seek advice, the Cahill sisters fight to stay strong as they learn to wield their powers without guidance, but these girls are part of a greater truth that threatens to destroy them all…

—

Born Wicked was not at all what I expected after reading the blurb on the back cover… it was so much better! Cate, Maura, and Tess are distinctive, well-developed characters that I instantly wanted to know more about. Cate narrates the trial of being an older sister to a pair of girls growing to fast and powerful for their own good. Always the voice of reason, Cate is a classic older sister as she tries to make the best of a complicated situation while keeping her sisters safe and deflecting the attention of their neighbors and the Brothers.

The plot is tightly woven and suspenseful. This was definitely one of those books I couldn’t put down! I just wanted to know what would happen… Would the girls be discovered? Would they suffer the fate of the other girls branded as witches by the Brotherhood? So many twists to keep me guessing. The history of the Daughters of Persephone–the matriarchal order of witches that ended when the Brothers waged war against witchery–was equally fascinating and lent the story a sense of time and place. I really look forward to following this series.

A great read for anyone interested in mystery, alternate history, and realistic magic (think Charmed).

I received my copy of Born Wicked through the LibraryThing Early Reviewers program.

To say that I love Oz is a bit of an understatement. I live in green (and red). Finding bits of green glass or red shoes always brings on a Dorothy moment. Yes, I know all the songs and still think the Wheelers are the creepiest baddies on wheels.

The Wonderful Wizard of Oz is one of the few, truly American fairy tales that continues to resonate as a sort of cult, imaginary world peopled with a hodgepodge of characters, creatures, and possibilities waiting to happen. Oz is boundless, lending itself to all manner of re-imaginings, tellings, and mediums.

There are 14 Oz books in the Baum canon and a slew of sequels and companion books set in Oz. Maguire’s revisionist history of Oz in the Wicked Years series adds a new layer of complexity to an already captivating series, raising issues on politics, animal rights, ethics, gender, and more.

I first read Wicked at the recommendation of a friend, whose suggestions I rarely took (our taste in books being too dissimilar to generate much confidence). I picked up a copy and devoured it in three days (oh, those lazy days of summer before I became a responsible adult). I loved the power-play in the novel, the one-liners and richness of language that made it impossible to put down. I was more than eager to know how Elphaba’s legacy would end in Out of Oz.

Opening with the siege of Mockbeggar Hall, Lady Glinda’s country seat, the reader is tossed into the middle of a secret plot to secure the waters of Oz for the Emerald City. A prisoner in her home, Glinda faces all the inconvenience that comes with being in the middle of military mission. Having to make due with a limited staff, Glinda keeps only four members of her household: a companion, Miss Murth, Chef, Puggles the butler, and her broomgirl–Rain. A prickly little girl of indeterminate age, Rain knows little about her past other than a couple of obscure memories involving the ability to feel for animals. Drawn into the battle between Lady Glinda and General Cherrystone of the Emerald City forces, Rain becomes part of a bet between the two: Glinda will learn to cook, if Rain learns to read. But reading can be a dangerous pastime, revealing more about people and power than a child can comprehend. Rain is soon drawn into the struggle for Oz, becoming part of a history that she never imagined.

I enjoyed the book; actually, I was surprised by how much I did enjoy it. Maguire is great with language and setting, he takes all manner of liberties with his creation. That said, Out of Oz was slow to start… very slow. It took a while for Rain to grow on me, but it takes a while for Rain to grow on herself. This is a story of self-discovery, and that comes with a lot of wandering and wondering. Old characters appear out of nowhere, loose ends are picked up, and there is a lot of self-doubt.

However, when Rain finally came into her own, the pace picked up considerably and I was sucked right in. Young Rain is an odd, ragamuffin with little personality, only the Lion seems willing to bother with her until she grows up. Teenaged Rain makes the story come together, becoming an agent of change in her own right rather than the unfortunate victim of her parents’ misguided efforts to protect her. I wish there was more to Rain’s story and her relationship with Tip (which can make for all kinds of interesting discussions on gender and love), just when the story was getting truly interesting, it ended. But, given the history of Oz books, is there ever really an ending?

Once upon a time, I wrote a nostalgic response to Wicked.

My copy of Out of Oz magically appeared in my mailbox, courtesy of HarperCollins.

-Gricel 

Pen, Will, and Cat meet under the most dramatic of circumstances–while Cat was having a seizure. They can’t help but fall in together after such a meeting. The closest of friends throughout college, these three share an intensity that is nearly impossible to overcome, and so they decide to go their separate ways with the memory of this passion intact and spare themselves the disappointment of growing up and growing apart.

Years later, they are once again drawn together when one of their number is in need, but they soon find that they are all in need of each other and that their impulsive decision to lead entirely separate lives cannot go on forever.

Though not one of my usual chick lit type reads, I found myself enjoying Falling Together. I had never read one of Marisa de los Santos’ books, so it was a new experience and one that I might like to repeat. That’s not to say that it was a perfect read. I found some elements a bit far-fetched… like taking off to another country at the drop of a hat to save someone who may or may not need saving, but that’s why it’s fiction. It’s a bit escapist, but sweet and refreshing after reading too many “serious” books. It’s a perfect read for a lazy weekend or after a long day at work and sure to appeal to a wide readership.

I received my copy of Falling Together from HarperCollins.