The Friends-- Rosa Guy

Phyllisia Cathy moves from the West Indies to East Harlem in the early 60's. At first glance, her family appears to be doing well-- her father has a restaurant, they have an apartment full of nice things. Phyllisia is equipped to do well in school, but is not prepared for a place where students are mocked by their teacher and left to brutalize each other. Phyllisia doesn't think she can survive another day when she is befriended by scruffy and ever-truant classmate Edith. Even after Edith saves Phyllisia's life, Phyllisia is ashamed to be seen with her. Combined with messed-up homelife (Phyllisia's terminally ill mother and violent father; Edith's long-dead mom and deadbeat dad), you've got altogether Too Much Sadness.

I am all for books that are realistic in their portrayal of friendship in all its fickle immaturity, but this book is pretty heavy-handed. In scene after scene, Phyllisia is horrible and Edith forgives her--extreme even for an age where kids spiteful like that. Phyllisia also has a series of unbelievable confrontations with her father, especially at the end.

Overall, the book struck me as a rough first cut of a narrative and themes that have been handled much artfully as they have gone mainstream in later works of young adult literature. The Friends is admirable for the boundaries it crossed for young readers, but may be more at home in a literary survey class than a middle-school one.

Wintergirls-- Laurie Halse Anderson

I was introduced to Laurie Halse Anderson's writing when I read her incredible novel Speak in a college young adult literature class. I recently found Wintergirls at the library, read the back, and lowered the bar because the plot description sounded so overdramatic... but man. Anderson's prose takes no prisoners, and this book does not disappoint.

Lia is a high school senior. She has divorced and distant parents, an eating disorder, and now a dead best friend. She and Cassie knew each other since they were little, and supported each other in everything, including the race to the bottom. Lia and Cassie hadn't spoken to each other in weeks when Lia got a late-night phone call. She turned off her phone, and in the morning she sees that Cassie called her 33 times. By that time, Lia has already learned that Cassie is dead.

Although we can assume why Cassie died, following Lia's thought process is the true horror. Even when she can be honest about the role she played in Cassie's life (revealing of relationships between teenage girls, sorry to say), even when she has moments of clarity about the destructiveness of her anorexia, she cannot normalize her relationship with food or her weight. Anderson offers her reader incredible insight, but this book is not for the faint of heart.

Name Me Nobody-- Lois-Ann Yamanaka

Friend P suggested I read something by Lois-Ann Yamanaka. Thank for leading me to this great book!

I immediately love Emi-Lou. Outcast, overweight, and abandoned by her mother, she has three bright spots in her life, her grandmother and her best friend Yvonne being the two obvious ones. But Emi-Lou is also her own bright spot; over the course of the book, we see her become more compassionate, a better friend, and able to stand up for herself and others.

Emi-Lou and Yvonne are soul sisters-- "wherever Yvonne go, Emi-Lou go too." Together, they join the local softball team; Emi-Lou pushes Yvonne to be the best player she can, and Yvonne pushes Emi-Lou to lose weight. But when Yvonne gets romantically involved with her teammate Babes, Emi-Lou feels her world falling apart-- she wants her best friend to be "normal."

Watching this all play out is so painful. Emi-Lou just doesn't know how to handle Yvonne's relationship with Babes. She gets crap from her aunt Vicky and her classmates about being Yvonne's spurned "femme," accused of being jealous. Meanwhile, Emi-Lou isn't used to her newly-thin body and how people treat her; she continues to "feel fat" and struggle with emotional eating. She has an on-and-off relationship with a guy who cares more about his image than about her, and crushes on a popular jock who tries to use her in every way. It's like a high school horror show. I wanted to scream watching all these bad things happen, the very worst of which is seeing Emi-Lou drive a wedge into her relationship with her best friend.

In the end, the best part for me was the story's three heroines-- tough and forgiving Yvonne, solid-loving Grandma, and an Emi-Lou who emerges from codependency and inadequacy and self-doubt. It's worth all the hurt.

(And, seriously, I cannot overstate the awesomeness of Grandma.)

Born Confused-- Tanuja Desai Hidier

Born Confused is the open-hearted book about South Asian identity that I have been looking for. The book problematizes issues of first and second generation identity beyond the tidy "self-acceptance = yay" that I have now (sadly) come to expect from many of these books.

Dimple Lala is in the summer before her senior year. She lives in the shadow of her beautiful, blonde, spotlight-loving best friend Gwyn, and behind the lens of her beloved camera. These days, Gwyn is busy with her boyfriend, leaving Dimple in her darkroom with all the images of life once-removed. Things start to change when Dimple reconnects with her cousin Kavita and meets suitable-boy Karsh, who introduce her to the young desi scene in New York. Dimple slowly discovers a sense of connection-- to her parents, whose history she is uncovers; to Kavita, who keeps a secret; to her roots and innermost self. But when Gwyn falls for Karsh, Dimple feels herself losing both of them.

As conventional as some of the plot points are, I insist they are handled more beautifully here than in any comparable book. The NYU connection allows Hidier to introduce Dimple to things outside her suburban world-- academic discourse, reconciliation of cultural and personal identity, and more than token treatment of LGBT desis. I love how it's embracing but critical at the same time, proffering a lot of questions and no easy answers. It also seems very fair and right to treat Gwyn's identity struggle on par with Dimple's-- there is more to "finding yourself" than just the color of your skin. The book also breaks the mold in not resolving all identity issues then and there; really, how many young people completely find themselves in the course of a single (albeit formative) summer?

The writing is fabulous and, at times, very funny (the scene were Dimple comes home stoned is hilarious). The book is full of moments that I love-- Dimple's shots of the crowd at an underground/ bhangra dance party, the notes her dad sent her as a kid, the photographic correspondence she had with her departed grandfather, pictures of the beautiful Zara putting on her makeup. The prose is lush and energetic, and Dimple is a 100% genuine article.

Personal note: Dimple's revelations are an echo of my seismic internal shift after learning about this amazing organization and attending their South Asian summit. They do so much for all us ADs (B and C optional).

The Skin I'm In-- Sharon G. Flake

Friends, it has been so great to get your recommendations! I have a whole new stack of books from the library and I am very excited to dig in. The wonderful L passed on this recommendation to me from some kids she works with (thanks L... and kids!).

There are certain books that every teen seems to have read, like the Twilight and Hunger Games series. After I read a book, I look it up on online to add the cover design to the blog and check out reader ratings. I am ashamed to say I had never heard of Sharon Flake, but there was unequivocal praise for The Skin I'm In, and almost all of it from young readers themselves. Why is there not a reading campaign for this book?!

The Skin I'm In speaks deeply to those adolescent fears of standing out, not being accepted. Maleeka, the protagonist, is so easy to identify with. I am sad to say that I think this book hasn't gone mainstream on account of race issues-- Maleeka is harassed by her classmates on account of the deep blackness of her skin, a point of self-consciousness that might not resonate with some readers. The book's themes, however, are universal. Maleeka sees herself as ugly, ill-dressed in her homemade clothes, pushed around by her "friends" and put down by her classmates. In Maleeka's journey towards self-acceptance, the book shines a light on what teasing is really about: envy and control. Meanwhile, Maleeka grows to recognize her own potential, stand up for herself, and see who her true friends are.

The themes in this book were so powerful, it only occurred to be later that this would be great for reluctant readers. A strong recommendation for all the middle-reading girls in your life-- at that age, everyone can use a little push.

When You Reach Me-- Rebecca Stead

I knew something was up when two staff at my favorite book store listed When You Reach Me (a young adult novel!) as one of their Top 5 books for the year, and every single review I saw was favorable. I ordered it and by the time it uh, reached me, it had won the 2009 Newbery Medal. I don't have many award-winners on my reading list, for reasons previously mentioned, but I was so intrigued by the reviews-- purposely vague, but enticing-- I didn't think twice about picking up this book.

There is so much going on in When You Reach Me I can’t describe it, and it’s done so flawlessly that I won’t do the book the disservice of trying. It’s a mystery involving a sudden attack on a friend, a missing housekey, a series of unsigned notes, and the growing feeling that something terrible is about to happen. It’s suspenseful and deeply, surprisingly emotional at the same time. It also alludes heavily to my mom’s favorite book ever; it freaked me out a little bit because I felt the book was written especially for me, but I think other readers will feel the same way.

The best thing, the absolute best thing about this book, is that it totally made me feel like my childhood self. Reading it was electric and effortless. I think when I was younger all books seemed like that to me, but it’s been a long time since I’ve finished a book in the course of a single weekday. I structured that day around reading time. I positively tingled with anticipation during my non-reading hours. I stayed up late at night to finish it, and when I finished it I got scared when I turned off the light. It made me feel uncertain about reality in a way that I thought could only happen when your mind is inexperienced and malleable.

You'll have to experience it for yourself.

What are you waiting for?