This summer looks to be the summer of beloved childrens books being turned into good movies. With Maurice Sendak’s Where The Wild Things Are, and now Roald Dahl’s Fantastic Mr. Fox set for cinematic release one can only speculate what will be next. Personally, I’d like to see Willard Price’s Adventure series get a turn. Anyway, here is the trailer for Fantastic Mr. Fox, starring George Clooney, Meryl Streep, Bill Murray and directed by Wes Anderson.
A sequel to J. D. Salinger’s classic novel, The Catcher in the Rye, has been written and is about to be published. It is called 60 Years Later (it’s set 60 years later), and Holden Caulfield, now an elderly man, escapes from a retirement home to travel through New York. Permission from Salinger wasn’t given, but as he’s so famously reclusive it was unlikely to happen anyway.
What would Holden say about it?
… and the $52,000 fine is waived. Who says librarians aren’t reasonable?
In theatres October 16 is where. Nearly everyones favourite picture book Where The Wild Things Are by Maurice Sendak is getting a big screen adaptation and somebody just emailed me this link where you can watch a very cool trailer. I know I’ll be off to see it when it comes out!
Last month I discovered (thanks to Paula) the name of the sequel to The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins (being Catching Fire) and reported that we’d be ordering it soon (it’s due for publication in September this year). Well, it’s now been ordered and I suggest you reserve it, because it is going to be good, I’m very sure. In the interest of not having a Stephenie Meyer happen the publishers are being quite tight lipped about what will actually happen in Catching Fire; their blurb for the new book doesn’t tell you anything you didn’t already know (basically):
“Against all odds, Katniss Everdeen has won the annual Hunger Games with fellow district tribute Peeta Mellark. But it was a victory won by defiance of the Capitol and their harsh rules. Katniss and Peeta should be happy. After all, they have just won for themselves and their families a life of safety and plenty. But there are rumors of rebellion among the subjects, and Katniss and Peeta, to their horror, are the faces of that rebellion. The Capitol is angry. The Capitol wants revenge.” (Amazon.com)
I was going to find ten books with strong female lead characters in them, but happily there were so many it was very difficult to choose, so I thought I’d settle for ten examples, and subcategorise (which is perhaps even more satisfying than listing). There will be ten books in here (basically).
A) The Kats:
Katsa, Graceling, Kristin Cashore.
Katniss, The Hunger Games, Suzanne Collins.
These are both fantasy titles, Graceling going the traditional route of a medieval alternate world, while The Hunger Games opts for the (also traditional) futuristic dystopia. Katsa and Katniss both know how to keep themselves alive and that killing and surviving often go together. Both do-ers rather than ponder-ers, they’re a bit out of touch when it comes to romance and boys and that. “I push the whole thing out of my mind because for some reason Gale and Peeta do not coexist well together in my thoughts,” thinks Katniss. Well, der. I quite like how similar these books are (in other words, if you liked The Hunger Games you might like Graceling too).
B) Daughters of disappeared fathers:
Laura Hame, Dreamhunter, Elizabeth Knox.
If you haven’t read Dreamhunter (and Dreamquake directly after) then I suggest you do (particularly good for say year 11 and up). It’s a slow starter, but when it winds itself up it’s quite spectacular and an incredibly unique fantasy world. Laura Hame is determined to find out why her father Tziga disappeared, doesn’t believe he’s dead like the authorities declare, and is willing to tell the truth, however nightmarish it may be.
Lyra, His Dark Materials, Philip Pullman.
Lyra is roguish and feisty, a well-written tomboy who, although she is briefly dazzled by the feminine wiles of Mrs Coulter, has the presence of mind and gumption to reach her own, accurate, conclusions.
Sabriel, The Old Kingdom Trilogy: Sabriel, Garth Nix.
Sabriel’s life has been quite sheltered until the disappearance of her father forces her to expand her horizons. She’s more than up to the challenge though I’m sure.
C) A classic (in a classic book):
Elizabeth Bennett, Pride and Prejudice, Jane Austen.
Elizabeth Bennett is actually a tough cookie in the Regency context. Even though she doesn’t have the greatest of prospects, she still turns down a single man in possession of a good fortune who ardently loves and admires her, because as it stands he’s, well, just too proud and his behaviour is a little odious at times. She’s in sharp contrast to her collection of sisters, all of whom are more easily swayed by the desires of parents, society, and men.
D) Two female antiheroes of high calibre chicklit (as in, female interest fiction):
Yay, I found a couple of female antiheroes (in reference to my antihero post).
Jessica Darling, Sloppy Firsts, Megan McCafferty.
She’s called Jessica Notso Darling by her father, who thinks it’s hilarious; she thinks it’s notso. Fuelled by sarcastic wit and Cap’n Crunch breakfast cereal, Jessica’s brain scythes through her class at school and you wonder will anyone stand up under her scrutiny? Well…
Frankie Landau Banks, The Disreputable History of Frankie Landau-Banks, E Lockhart.
Frankie wants to be taken seriously by her boyfriend and his friends, but they’re just not going to (she’s a girl), so she shows them… the results are satisfying in many ways, but also carry some serious implications; victory might be bitter sweet.
E) Kids:
Scout, To Kill a Mockingbird, Harper Lee.
Scout’s another feisty tomboy (except of course she came before Lyra): one of the most memorable characters in 20th century literature.
Matilda, Matilda, Roald Dahl.
Another memorable literary child. Don’t mess with Matilda.
Coraline, Coraline, Neil Gaiman.
It’s Cora-line, like Caroline, but with the first two vowels switched. Coraline’s got enough gumption to correct adults when they mis-say her name, so that’s a good start. In a war of wits between Coraline and the mother with the button eyes ultimately there can be only one winner, but who?
And we could go on. Let me know if you’ve got a favourite strong female character.
People who have read The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins and really enjoyed it will be very pleased to find out that the sequel, Catching Fire, will be published at the beginning of September this year. I read this article in Publisher’s Weekly about it and am now rather intrigued. David Levithan (Nick and Norah etc author) makes it sound really interesting and secretive. Everyone else is ooing and ahing over the cover, so we shall as well: very nice.
We will be ordering Catching Fire next month, so in the mean time you should read The Hunger Games to find out what all the fuss is about (read our review post here which includes a link to a great review by Stephen King).
Ever feel like you’ve read every good book there is (that interests you)? If you’re looking for something new to read I’d like to commend the children’s fiction collection to you (remember children’s fiction?), after all, it is the home of Harry Potter. Here are some titles you may or may not have noticed.
Airman, by Eoin Colfer (the person responsible for Artemis Fowl). Airman has echoes of The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas. Conor Broekhart was born in a hot air balloon and he’s got flying in his blood. This comes in useful when, through a series of really unfortunate events, he’s imprisoned in an island jail and must escape to clear his name and bring to light a dangerous political conspiracy. Set in the 1890s on the Saltee Islands (off the southern coast of Ireland).
Un Lun Dun, by China Mieville. Two girls (Zanna and Deeba) stumble across UnLondon (if that isn’t a name for a dystopic alternate world I don’t know what is), where everything (and everyone) is like a broken version of London. UnLondon is under siege from a dangerous, toxic Smog (isn’t normal London too?) and Zanna and Deeba must help the UnLondoners defeat the Smog, but this is complicated by the small matter of what might happen to Deeba if everyone in London forgets she exists. At 520 pages this is a rather large tome.
The Bartimaeus Trilogy, by Jonathan Stroud. Again, set aside some time: these are doorstop books. Bartimaeus, the titular character, is a 5,000 year old djinni (a sort of spirit). The books (being The Amulet of Samarkand, The Golem’s Eye and Ptolemy’s Gate) are set in an alternate world that, like other fantasy worlds (Philip Pulman’s His Dark Materials world, Un Lun Dun, for example), draws on and resembles reality (past and present). Feeling tired just thinking about summarising more than 1,000 pages, I’ll let Wikipedia do it for me:
“As the books progress, three cycles become evident. The first and largest from the overarching plot line standpoint is the rise and fall of London as a world power. The second and third are more personal; the boy changing from the pitiful, yet noble, Nathaniel, to the power-hungry, arrogant John Mandrake and back again to the boy he was, and the third, involving Kitty and Bartimaeus, who restore each other’s faith in their races.”
Epic.
House of Many Ways, Diana Wynne Jones. If you’ve had the pleasure of reading Howl’s Moving Castle then this might interest you. It’s dubbed “sequel to…” in the same way as Castle in the Air was, but it isn’t really (a sequel), well not in the way that Howl fans might wish. But if you’re a Sophie fan, you’ll enjoy reading this; Charmain is much like Sophie, in that she’s quite plucky and forceful, and takes strange houses (with many ways, see) very much in her stride. Howl’s there, but in a twinkly sort of way (I don’t want to give too much away); he and Sophie have a couple of domestics which made me laugh.
Fly By Night, Frances Hardinge. Another novel set in a parallel world, this time 18th century England. Mandelion (a city) is ruled by Guilds, who are locked in a tense power struggle. Mosca Mye, an orphan, together with Eponymous Clent, a conman (an interesting pair), becomes involved in the dangerous machinations of the city. Frances Hardinge’s website explains:
“A born liar, Mosca lives by her wits in a world of highwaymen and smugglers, dangerously insane rulers in ludicrous wigs, secret agents and radical plotters. She is recruited as a spy by the fanatical Mabwick Toke, leader of the Guild of Stationers, who fears losing his control over the publication of every book in the state. Mosca’s activities reveal a plot to force a rule of terror on the Realm, and merry mayhem soon leads to murder…”
So there you go: check out some of these for a bit of a breather. Fly By Night and Airman are also available on CD.
‘I am a rock, I am an island,’ sang Simon or was it Garfunkle in the 1970s. This is true of many literary characters (and writers) too. It’s an attractive ready-made plot: loner meets world; conflict ensues, or outsider rubs up against society; conflict ensues and outsider learns to fit in/society learns to accept outsider. It’s difficult to write a story about a character who is truly alone (and maintain interest, at any rate); even Robinson Crusoe ended up with Man Friday, and Tom Hanks gets rescued in Castaway (by people).
Singularly yours,
G
Librarians, teachers and other brains of note have awarded Neil Gaiman the Newbery Medal for The Graveyard Book. So what is the Newbery Medal? Well, it’s the most prestigious children’s fiction award given in the United States. That is to say that The Graveyard Book is top dog in the USA in 2009. Mr Gaiman was suitably delighted, as he recounts in his blog. If you’re interested in details and stuff you could visit the unexciting Newbery Medal home page, otherwise reserve The Graveyard Book so you can sample some quality writing.
And the Printz** goes to:
Melina Marchetta (of Looking for Alibrandi fame), for On the Jellicoe Road, which I haven’t stuck in any lists or said anything nice about, for shame. For punishment I shall read and review it. Aussie aussie aussie, oi oi oi.
*see the tags on his blog post for verification.
** The Printz Award, like the Newbery Medal, is given by the American Library Association, this time for Young Adult Literature.
This is hardly my area of expertise, I must say. Still, boldly going…
Mwah.
We’ve made a resolution (I’ve just decided) to expand horizons in 2009, so I thought we’d get one final vampire post out on the last day of the year, since 2008 seems to have been the Year of the Vampire. So for people stuck for something to read, here’s a couple of things to note:
1) A most thorough website. Lovevampires.com is a site devoted to vampire fiction. It looks pretty good and it seems to have reviewed every single vampire story ever written. If you get sick of reading the reviews you could also check out some author interviews, including, for example, P C Cast. Read their summary of 2008 too; see if you agree. I like the blood spatter image that shows up to highlight hyperlinks.
2) Some suggested reading to keep you going… check out some of the following if you haven’t already. The Marked series by the aforementioned P C Cast; Vampire Academy books by Richelle Mead; The Summoning by Kelley Armstrong (the next one’s due out next year); The Mortal Instruments series by Cassandra Clare (again, expect to see book three in 2009).
Thanks to Renee for the tips! Thanks also to Esther for letting us borrow her photo and dubiously link her with this genre.
Maximum Ride fans will be pleased to know that the next instalment, Max, is due out in April 2009. Our onto-it buyer has placed an order already, so you can reserve your copy now.
A couple of random things:
Visit the Maximum Ride website where you can join the flock and also see an animated preview/advert for The Dangerous Days of Daniel X.
There’s going to be a Maximum Ride movie, scheduled for 2010, which in a few days will be next year.
Violence 101 by Denis Wright tells the story of Hamish Graham, a fourteen-year-old action man with “a disturbing past”. Combining third person narrated passages and first person diary entries, we get an insightful glimpse into the life of a boy looking for heroes. Hamish is spending time in a young offenders institution where he finds himself getting into trouble thanks to an anger management problem. Faced with a tough situation, can Hamish channel his resourcefulness and intelligence to learn what it really means to be a hero?
Finding Violet Park by Jenny Valentine was the most-registered book in Waitakere Library’s Books in the Wild programme this year. So what was it about the book that West Aucklanders found so appealing? It’s a tale of a boy, an urn, and a mystery…
“I met Violet Park after she died but that didn’t stop me getting to know her…”
Lucas Swain is a teenage boy full of worry but a good sort all the same; he means well and has his heart in the right place. His Father has just disappeared without a trace, and his family don’t know whether he is alive or dead. In a bizarre twist of circumstances he comes in possession of an urn full of ashes that contains the remains of Violet Park. Lucas sets about finding out about Violet Park and what he discovers changes his life forever.
This is a well-told story full of twists and turns that will leave you wondering what will happen next.
It’s summer. Happiness. However, researching summery books, I’ve discovered that writers like summer to mean not just happiness and laziness and warmth: there can be a distinct wintery edge too; summer can be a harbinger of, if not doom (or Mt Doom, as the case may be), then unpleasantness and a certain amount of suffering*. Still, it’s nice to read summer books in summer.
* I also note a distinctly chick-flavouredness about books about summer (one or two aside), which interests me. Is summer not a manly season, I want to know?
That’s spooks in the ghost sense rather than spies. Ghosts lend themselves to short stories apparently (think Edgar Allan Poe) – maybe their lack of substance means they lack staying power. That being said, ghosts have had an impact on several novels as well, from the ghoulish-minded 19th Century to the ghoulish-minded Neil Gaiman (absolutely no offence meant).
Boo!
Last sentences this time. Stopping is harder than it looks, believe me. Some writers apply the brakes slowly (very slowly), others come screeching to a halt. Personally, I like both (although neither if they’re badly written).
Emily Bronte, Wuthering Heights: again, I had to learn this for an exam. I inserted it precariously in my short term memory: in my mind it goes: “I lingered blah, blah, blah and wondered how anyone blah blah unquiet slumbers for the sleepers in that quiet earth.”
How it actually goes: “I lingered round them, under that benign sky; watched the moths fluttering among the heath, and hare-bells; listened to the soft wind breathing through the grass; and wondered how any one could ever imagine unquiet slumbers for the sleepers in that quiet earth.”
George Orwell, 1984: “He loved Big Brother.” Awesome.
Herman Melville, Moby Dick: after such a calamitous time is had by all, the last sentence swallows all the tragedy up, spits it out, dusts itself off and carries on like nothing has happened: “Now small fowls flew screaming over the yet yawning gulf; a sullen white surf beat against its steep sides; then all collapsed, and the great shroud of the sea rolled on as it rolled five thousand years ago.”
Dodie Smith, I Capture the Castle: memorably and mushily, “I love you, I love you, I love you.”
Then from some soon-to-be-classics:
Philip Pullman, Northern Lights: “So Lyra and her daemon turned away from the world they were born in, and looked toward the sun, and walked into the sky.” There’s a certain symmetry to the first and last sentences of Northern Lights which is extremely pleasing. We like this.
J K Rowling, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Not quite so much success here (never mind that the whole last chapter is horrid). The last sentence reads, “All was well.” The penultimate sentence is, “The scar had not pained Harry for nineteen years.” Bring back the Dursleys!
Stephenie Meyer, Twilight: (didn’t want to ruin things by sticking in the last sentence of Breaking Dawn, you understand) “And he leaned down to press his cold lips once more to my throat.” ‘Oh,’ the reader thinks, ‘does he bite her?’ and, ‘when can I read the next one to find out?’
Marcus Sedgwick, My Swordhand is Singing: “Wait! I’m coming with you!” Incidentally, if you like badass vampire books and you’re sick of the romantic sap then read this one; it’s of the more chilling variety.
Meg Rosoff, How I Live Now: “And that’s how I live now.” Well, that’s one way to finish, with the title. Actually, that reads badly on its own (a bit like an old granny sitting with her quilting, with her glasses perched on the tip of her nose, saying, “and that, gentle listener, is how I live now.”). It’s better in context.
Scott Westerfeld, Peeps: “We’ve got your back.” Nice. Another less mushy vampire one, btw.
Laura Whitcomb, A Certain Slant of Light: “And when we kissed, the garden rocked, floating upstream.” Ah, lovely. A ghostly romance. For the record the first sentence reads, “Someone was looking at me, a disturbing sensation if you’re dead.”
So, my fifty cents’ worth for writers: short or long last (and first) sentence; it doesn’t really matter, as long as you can justify every word, and it reads well on the page (and also out loud).
There have been some classic first sentences in literature:
Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen. “It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.” I studied Pride and Prejudice at school: all my classmates were in love with Mr Darcy (it was a Catholic girls’ school). I didn’t understand (this was before Colin Firth and the jumping in muddy puddles scene – although I don’t understand that one either). I did however memorise the first sentence of the book and the only thing I’ve forgotten is where to put the commas.
1984 by George Orwell has an opening sentence that is memorable too: “It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen.” You immediately know that something’s up.
I also memorised (triumphantly) the opening sentence of Moby Dick – “Call me Ishmael”. Yes I know it’s the second shortest sentence ever, but Herman Melville’s clever introducing his narrator’s character in just three words: vague, detached, orphan-like.
“It was a dark and stormy night; the rain fell in torrents, except at occasional intervals, when it was checked by a violent gust of wind which swept up the streets (for it is in London that our scene lies), rattling along the housetops, and fiercely agitating the scanty flame of the lamps that struggled against the darkness,” written by Edward Bulwer-Lytton (Paul Clifford) is widely regarded as the worst first sentence ever written*. The library doesn’t have a copy.
First sentences are all about first impressions and are therefore important. So are first sentences up to scratch in popular books at the moment? Let’s see.
Gossip Girl (number one): “Ever wondered what the lives of the chosen ones are really like?” I guess that just about covers it, so, not too bad.
Twilight: “My mother drove me to the airport with the windows rolled down.” (Yes I know, I’ll get back to you about the Preface when I can get my hands on a copy of the book!) This highlights one of the things I don’t like about Stephenie Meyer’s writing style: she’s taking a while to get to the point (which is the difference between Phoenix (sunny) and the Olympic Peninsula (not)). The book(s) could have been shorter if she took less time to get to the point. What do you think?
Eldest: “The songs of the dead are the lamentations of the living.” Hm. He’s a serious-minded chap, is Christopher Paolini (and Eragon, I guess).
Angus, Thongs and Full-Frontal Snogging: “Dad had Uncle Eddie around so naturally they had to come and see what I was up to.” The word “naturally” is what makes this sentence (and possibly also “had to”). This suggests sarcasm (or irony, if you’re being kind) and that you’re a mate she’s confiding in.
How I Live Now: “My name is Elizabeth but no one’s ever called me that.” Quite punchy, that one.
Northern Lights: “Lyra and her daemon moved through the darkening hall, taking care to keep to one side, out of sight of the kitchen.” ‘Lyra and her daemon are up to no good’, you think, and, ‘what’s a daemon then?’
Finally: “Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say they were perfectly normal, thank you very much.” (Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone) I’m very glad that the first Harry Potter sentence ever introduces the wonderful Dursleys! (And rather well.)
Nothing’s really knocking me over though. Is the first sentence a lost art? I’m going to go on a hunt for excellent first sentences. I’ll get back to you.
* So bad, in fact, that there’s a Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest. You get some money if you win even (plus a lot of kudos).
Amazon likes lists more than I do even. They’ve got every list you can think of (mostly thanks to their customers), including their Best Books of 2008 ones. This is what the Amazon.com editors suggest are the top 10 teen books for the year. This is an interesting list; partly because there is no number 2 (I looked and looked, through one eye and then the other). This suggests The Kingdom on the Waves (the second part of The Astonishing Life of Octavian Nothing by M T Anderson) is so, well, astonishing that nothing comes close, perhaps? In any case there are some interesting books on this list, ones that we like even: check out our posts on The Hunger Games, Little Brother and The Graveyard Book (I’m still waiting for this one, but a reliable source tells me it’s good).
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