I’ve been itching to try the Scribbler subscription box for writers since it was first released. But alas, there’s the issue of budget that never allowed me to sign up. May I take a moment to say “Yay Christmas Bonuses!” Because I get to share my very first Scribbler box with you!
So I intended to take pictures if each item, and my Logan knew it. Hence, we get pictures like this.
The first thing I spotted when I opened my Scribbler box was a near magnetized dry erase board. I used it immediately to write a love letter.
Not only is the book included, but there is also a separate pamphlet that offers an inside look at the editing process. She shows us a scene from Circle of Shadows that was cut in edits, and walks us through everything that has changed since, including a whole storyline that was cut.
Evelyn also wrote up a great collection of tips and tricks for writing fantasy—mainly focusing on building magic systems and how it figures into and impacts world building.
This sticker gives me life.
An invitation to an exclusive chat with Kristin Rens, Executive Editor at Balzer + Bray, was also included, but, as is always my luck, it lands on the day and (believe it or not) exact time of a seriously important doctor’s appointment, so I won’t be able to attend. 😦
There was a great little notebook with a sturdy cover, built for the kind of writer that writes on the go. You can work on the writing prompt they sent in that adorable little notebook.
And lastly, this warm scribbler beanie, perfect for the snowy weather I’ve been trudging through–as modeled by Logan.
So, what did I think of my first Scribbler box? I loved it! Just having a bunch of cute things that relate to my life as a writer, while also relating to my life loving YA novels is just perfect. I do wish the writing chat was something I could attend—for instance, not in the middle of a normal workday—but other than that, every single piece included is going to get a lot of use from me.
I can’t afford to do this every month, but I think there are more of these in my future.
As I’ve mentioned in some of my past book reviews, I am currently making my way through some books that can be seen as a comparative title to my own books. This time around, the book is The Stars Never Rise and its sequel, The Flame Never Dies, by Rachel Vincent. This series was recommended to me as a comparison to my story, The Order of the Key, due to the family connection between siblings, and the main character’s drive to protect hers in the midst of an unbelievable and frightening world.
Book Summary: Sixteen-year-old Nina Kane should be worrying about her immortal soul, but she’s too busy trying to actually survive. Her town’s population has been decimated by soul-consuming demons, and souls are in short supply. Watching over her younger sister, Mellie, and scraping together food and money are all that matters. The two of them are a family. They gave up on their deadbeat mom a long time ago.
When Nina discovers that Mellie is keeping a secret that threatens their very existence, she’ll do anything to protect her. Because in New Temperance, sins are prosecuted as crimes by the brutal Church and its army of black-robed exorcists. And Mellie’s sin has put her in serious trouble.
To keep them both alive, Nina will need to put her trust in Finn, a fugitive with deep green eyes who has already saved her life once and who might just be an exorcist. But what kind of exorcist wears a hoodie?
Wanted by the Church and hunted by dark forces, Nina knows she can’t survive on her own. She needs Finn and his group of rogue friends just as much as they need her.
What I enjoyed: I found the idea of the Church being in charge in a dystopian future to be an idea ripe for a writer’s playground, and Vincent uses it as such, creating images wrought with the harsher sides of religious rule over the centuries. It also pokes at the idea of the corruption of religion. This is a world that feels rich and lived in.
Nina is a great main character with a strong motivation–she does everything to protect her sister. But even in that, she makes mistakes. She isn’t a perfect hero, and some of the wrong turns she makes are some of the best parts of the book.
Nina amasses a group of friends throughout the course of the story that end up as beloved and dynamic characters. Grayson becomes Nina’s shoulder to cry on, Maddock and Reese become her teachers, and Devi becomes her foil. Devi, in particular, is a fun character precisely because she doesn’t really get redeemed. She’s good, in the more important ways, but she’s also nasty and rude. And then there’s Finn. Finn is Nina’s love interest, the exorcist that saves her. Finn has the best backstory–but I can’t explain anything! It’s all spoilers. But they are all good spoilers, that end up being the most interesting part of the story.
The second book is a fitting sequel, with a new main big bad, a new creepy section of the world to explore, and the unveiling of some surprising plot elements.
What I’d avoid: I got the distinct impression when reading this story that the author didn’t really know everything she wanted to do with this world. Some surprises and plot twists paid off well, and some felt like they came out of nowhere. Particularly one secret regarding a character in which that character had a special ability that only made sense if the end of the story was already true. I can’t really explain what I mean, but I facepalmed when I realized where it was going. As good as the story and the characters were, this particular event felt strongly like the author asserting their will. It was a frustrating moment.
Another issue I had with the story is that it was billed as a duology and the ending of book 2 left a huge plot thread open. I actually looked up when the next book was coming out. I thought for certain that it was a trilogy. Book 1 and 2 closed well, but there was far too much story left to tell.
Would I recommend it:
Though I had my issues with this story, these were all things I noticed in thinking about it after the fact (aside from that one facepalm moment). I would still say that, on the whole, the story was an interesting and fun ride. I was forced to stop reading a few times throughout the course of reading it, and I always found myself itching to get back. I enjoyed the characters and the entire plot conceit. Despite the issues, it was totally worth the ride. I would definitely recommend this book for lovers of dystopian YA.
What can I learn from it: I think the big lesson I learned from this book is to make sure that any major plot twists I intend to pull off in future books are planned well in advance, and all strange things that can’t be explained in book 1 at least have a firm explanation in my mind, as the writer. And if I come up with a good plot twist later that doesn’t fit the narrative, I’d better have a damn good explanation for it.
All in all, The Stars Never Rise and its sequel were both suspenseful reads that any lover of YA dystopian will enjoy. Just don’t squint too hard at it. You could easily miss the flaws if you aren’t looking too hard.
I don’t like to brag, but I’m really good at NaNoWriMo-ing. Like, really good. I have participated in many NaNos since 2012, and I have always completed my goal of writing 50,000 words in one month. I have also participated in the Camp NaNoWriMos, in that time, often pulling out 50,000 words in April or July, in any of the years I chose to participate. And then came this year.
In April, I already knew I was competing with a crazier schedule, and set my goal of Camp Nano (the version of this challenge that has changeable goals) to 30,000 words in the month. I managed to make that goal. In July, I did the same, hoping to finish out a decent chunk of the book I had started in April. By a week into the month, I could already see that I wasn’t going to get to 30,000. I cut my word count to 15,000.
You see, there was this scene. Or worse, there was this book. And it slowed everything to a stop.
When I started work on a new book while waiting for notes back from my edit-partner for my last completed first draft, Never Say Never, I intended to work on a light-hearted superhero tale. Often, to get myself into telling a story, I will first write my first draft of the book blurb, a teaser description to tell myself what’s at stake and who my main character is. I do this prior to outlining, just so I can get into the proper frame of mind. When I set out to do this, my simple superhero book became a dystopian novel about two teens living off the streets of a derelict city until they choose to fight for better. With zero superheroes. And I don’t know how. I often scoff at people who say the characters took control of the story, or who claim they need their muse, but this was definitely some kind of whacked out magic at work. I hadn’t had this idea before I set out. This was not the book I was looking for.
But perhaps it was the book I needed. For one, writing it scared the shit out of me. It required a level of worldbuilding I’d never done before. It required a set of research I’d never considered. Worse, as I started plotting out the outline, I began to discover the story was meant to be in third person, which I almost never write.
I went to a book signing a few weeks before, for one of my favorite authors–Patrick Ness. He said he always likes to scare himself with his book ideas. He said he didn’t want to write anything that didn’t scare him–it was part of the adventure of writing. So when this strange story sprang from my head, I went with it–I did the scary thing. I started outlining this story. I started doing the research. And perhaps, I jumped into writing the thing too quickly.
That was my excuse when I cut the word count in April.
But then, my life was changing. I started work with Craft Quest, continued working with The Inkwell Council, and started taking on occasional freelance editing jobs. I dove into a new fandom (I haven’t been part of a fandom in awhile), which was time-wasting, but also reminded me why it’s so damn fun to be a geek, and saved me from dealing with a lot of this next part–as I mentioned earlier this year, I recently was diagnosed with Fibromyalgia. My symptoms had been growing steadily worse for the entire year before I figured out what was wrong, and have now continued cropping up in new and interesting ways. My husband and son got into a car accident, ending up in the middle of a seven-car bumper-to-bumper on the highway–they were fine, but the car was decidedly not. We frantically struggled to replace it. There was an awful slew of bullying at our son’s summer camp that was impacting him directly. And I got stuck, horribly stuck, on one scene in the story that I just couldn’t figure out. I crashed. HARD. I never made it to 15,000 words. That has never happened to me before.
From the end of July to now, I have written four pages. That’s it, folks. Four whole pages. And anybody who follows this blog regularly knows that’s a joke. It wasn’t even like I was editing Never Say Never. I got the edits, got stuck on the first thing that was said, and pushed that aside as well. I just didn’t know how to handle any of it, so I didn’t touch it. I put it all away.
I celebrated my son’s birthday. I handled that damn summer camp. I celebrated my best friend’s pregnancy, my sister-in-law’s new apartment, my other best friend’s journey through Thailand and Japan. I sat beside another dear friend as she struggled to (successfully, thank goodness) battle breast cancer. I got to work on another project close to my heart that I can’t discuss yet, but is arts-based and local, and should it take off, would touch on a long-standing dream of mine. I swam around in my new favorite fandom and made some new friends there. I lived my dang life. I took a break.
And I feel better. I feel clearer. I think this needed to happen to remind me I couldn’t do everything at once. I need to crash to remind myself that despite my protestations to the contrary, this illness has given me new limitations. I needed to crash to remind myself I had other priorities in life. I needed to crash to remind myself to have a little fun. I needed to crash because I don’t need to hit my goals every single time. Sometimes I’m allowed to miss them. I needed to crash to remind myself I didn’t need to get this story right on the first draft. That I could completely screw it up, go back in and rewrite it like I was bound to do anyway a few times, once I figured out what I was trying to say and how it was going to work. I needed to crash to remind myself that the work of sculpting doesn’t get done until the clay is on the damn table.
I needed to crash. I needed to fail. I needed that to learn how to take care of myself so that next time, I may succeed.
Tl;dr: I’m back, folks. How was your summer vacation?
It’s a funny cycle and it goes like this: I write a book. When marketing said book for potential agents, having comparison titles can be very helpful. I go looking for comp titles from comp title extraordinaire, Megan Manzano. She does it for me for free because she’s my husband’s little sister, and I spent hours when she was a kid playing pet shop with her stuffed animals, so she owes me. She does charge for the service as well, so you should check it out. The next step in the cycle is to read the books she recommends and make sure I agree and know what I’m talking about when an agent says, “what in particular did you think was similar to the book?” That would be a really bad moment to gape like a fish. Anyway, I read, I love, I gush to her in annoying ways via FB Messenger, and then I write one of these. The Monsters of Verity series by Victoria Schwab was recommended to me mostly based on tone, family politics, and monster battles, but I stayed for so much more.
Book Summary: Below is the jacket copy for the first book of the duology, This Savage Song. I will not include a summary for Our Dark Duet, because that would be spoilery as all get out.
Kate Harker wants to be as ruthless as her father. After five years and six boarding schools, she’s finally going home to prove that she can be.
August Flynn wants to be human. But he isn’t. He’s a monster, one that can steal souls with a song. He’s one of the three most powerful monsters in a city overrun with them. His own father’s secret weapon.
Their city is divided.
Their city is crumbling.
Kate and August are the only two who see both sides, the only two who could do something.
But how do you decide to be a hero or a villain when it’s hard to tell which is which?
Corsai, Corsai, tooth and claw, Shadow and bone will eat you raw. Malchai, Malchai, sharp and sly, Smile and bite and drink you dry. Sunai, Sunai, eyes like coal, Sing you a song and steal your soul. Monsters, monsters, big and small, They’re gonna come and eat you all.
What I enjoyed: I have to really stop and think about this, because on a knee jerk, I want to think I enjoyed everything, but I want to be more specific. This was definitely a novel that swept me up and through me through the dryer in the best possible way, so I’m still a little dizzy over it. Okay, deep breaths.
For starters, the characters–generally my favorite part of the book, I loved these characters. Kate was difficult to love, and at first you kind of loved to hate her, but by the end of her arc, I was blown away by her. She was a complex and truly wonderful character. August was a character I loved from the beginning, but his journey was a gripping ride, as he came to terms with who he was, what his role could be and what it should be. The villains ran the gamut between disturbing (the monsters) and oddly understandable and still disturbing (the human villains).
The mythology of this world was surprising and inventive. The monsters here are born of violent acts, meaning each act of brutal violence creates a monster. Dealing with your own demons is a big theme in this book. I was intrigued by the breakdown of differences between the monsters, and the creation of the war-divided city of Verity. I applauded her use of music as a way to draw forth a soul for devouring in the Sunai. This was a completely unique monster concept to me, and I loved the way this played out, especially in the end. The writing in itself is downright poetic. Like the music from August’s violin, it drags you in and holds you in its comforting lull or pulls you into pieces, depending on the moment.
The tone of the story was another lovely point. It was gritty and real and lived in. No punches pulled.
What I’d avoid:
There were a couple of things I didn’t love about the story, although they definitely weren’t as prevalent as the things I did. Schwab delivered a new and inventive world, and I understood that she wanted to leave some room for speculation, but there were a couple of threads I felt were left hanging. Things like “what happened to the US to create a city like Verity?” or “What happened to certain characters Kate and August weren’t able to maintain contact with?” just kind of never get answered, even though they felt like they would be. They aren’t integral to the plot, but it nagged me a little bit. Bigger questions, like “why are the Sunai SO DIFFERENT from other monsters, and from each other?” could have been purposely left open as something for the reader to suss out and theorize about, but I felt a few more clues would have been very much appreciated.
Would I recommend it:
I actually just did. I hope my husband is enjoying his audiobook of it right now! And I will continue to. I really enjoyed this story.
What can I learn from it:
I’ve been struggling with the bittersweet ending of one of my novels, wondering if I’d gone the right way with it. The Monsters of Verity series, along with its popularity, made me feel much better about this choice in my work. It also helped me trudge forward without fear in my latest work, which does have a gritty backdrop and a slightly selfish heroine. This story is a class in “Write what the story wants, the rest will fall in place” and I love that.
Despite my few tiny gripes, this series had me from the very first line and held me. And, it helpfully works as an addition to my list of comp titles. One of my favorite things about looking for comp titles is discovering new authors and new stories. Have any of you ready This Savage Song and Our Dark Duet? Any recommendations of similar books?
Based on a game I recently saw making the rounds, come join me while I spell out my name in fictional characters–and then tell you why I love them.
Jason Todd–aka the second Robin, as in Batman and Robin. Died, got better. Became The Red Hood.
Jason Todd is currently my favorite fictional character of everything, anywhere. Because we’re dealing with DC Comics here, and they don’t always do a good job of consistency in characterization, sometimes Jason isn’t written in the best light. And really, he’s kind of an asshole. An anti-hero in the truest sense, Jason Todd breaks Batman’s strictest rule–he kills to protect the people of Gotham. Having returned from death only to discover the man who beat him to death with a crowbar, The Joker, still lived, Jason decides that the only way to keep someone like that off the street is to kill them.
Sure, he veers into bad guy territory, like the time he tried to kill his successor for the Robin title, Tim Drake, but Jason is tormented by memories of his death, feelings of abandonment by Batman, and the fact that he was trained to be an assassin by The League of Assassins. He lost it for a while there. Now he’s stumbling through a redemption path fraught with questions of why he’s still here, and whether he really wants to be or not. It’s rough, it’s dark, and it’s a departure from the “yes, sir!” mentalities of Dick Grayson and Tim Drake’s earlier run.
Plus it’s just fun to see Jason struggle to reintegrate into his family, and try not to care about Bruce Wayne. It’s a compelling story arc. And we all know how I love those.
Ursula, The Sea Witch–Does this one really need explanation? I mean, she’s the feared witch of the sea! She even makes King Triton nervous. She’s charismatic and charming, her big song and dance number is catchy as hell, she makes being an octopus look sexy and bawdy! The Little Mermaid really never stood a chance. I firmly believe that this was the beginning of me sympathizing with morally questionable characters, a trend that has followed me into adulthood. I mean, who didn’t wonder what Ursula did to lead Triton to banish her?
*Sings Poor Unfortunate Souls and saunters out of the room*
Simon Lewis–For those of you who know nothing about The Mortal Instruments series by Cassandra Clare, Simon Lewis is the regular guy in the story. He starts out as the only human among a bunch of supernatural friends. Though a vampire bite in the first book turns him into a vampire, he still has a very human point of view on everything.
Anyone who knows me, knows I have a love/hate relationship with Clare and her series’, and while badass archer Alec Lightwood became my favorite character down the line, it was Simon and his acerbic, sardonic wit that pulled me into the story, even though I was flagging on it from the very beginning. Simon is the “you” in the story. He is your representation. The things you find odd are the thing he comments on. The things that are annoying are mocked by Simon. He is sweet, he is innocent to the world around him, and we all kind of root for him. In the end, though I won’t spoil you, his story ends up being at the heart of main character Clary’s journey.
Tara Maclay–I really loved Seth Green as Oz on Buffy the Vampire Slayer, so I had a really hard time accepting Tara when she was initially written into canon. As far as I was concerned, he and Willow were meant to be, and here was this lady, flirting with Willow! Add to that the fact that I thought they were just queer baiting with the clear close relationship between Willow and Tara, and playing with Willow’s witchcraft dabbling with a metaphor to her dabbling in lesbianism, I actually hated the storyline in its first few weeks. But Tara grew on me as I came to realize that, while not a perfect storyteller or human being by any means, creator Joss Whedon did mostly right by this couple, making them an enduring relationship on the show, and a beautiful and inspiring character in her own right.
A child of abuse, Tara has a natural inclination toward magic, and is ridiculed by her family because of it. When she joins The Scooby Gang, she is quiet, shy, and initially, will only talk to Willow, fearing alienation by any who don’t dabble in magic. But by tackling crisis after crisis head on, and after being protected by Buffy, Willow, and their friends when her family comes to call, Tara grows into a strong, confident woman, who often plays a large role in the gang’s adventures. She becomes so confident, that she walks away when Willow, the love of her life, begins to use magic like a drug, only coming back when Willow is clean for a long time, despite her love for her. Though in the end, she dies (DAMMIT, JOSS!), her character’s loss is felt for the remaining season of the series, and is known as one of the most shocking moments of the series.
And yes, I am aware she comes back to life or something in the comic books after the show, but I refused to accept those as canon the moment I realized they made Dawn into a giant for mostly no good reason. The comic books are deader than Tara to me. Sorry not sorry.
Inej Ghafa–The Wraith! The Spider of Ketterdam! As one of the ragtag group of criminals that makes up the six in Leah Bardugo’s Six of Crows, Inej has a background that, though tragic, strengthens her. As the team’s intelligence gatherer, Inej uses her past as an acrobat to help her survive in the crime-ridden city of Ketterdam. Initially she is kidnapped from her life as an acrobat and forced into a life as a sex slave. She is coded as being of middle eastern dissent, and she is brought to a pleasure house called “The Menagerie” for her “exotic looks”. Not content to be used in such a way, she uses her stealth to provide information for a future crime boss, and quickly comes under his protection. She makes herself invaluable to him, and plans to use the money the Six make on their criminal exploits to pursue her dreams of ridding the world of the slave trade.
Gotta love a woman who turns things around to her advantage. Even when she’s falling in love with said future crime boss Kaz Brekker (who is another character study for another time…there is no K in my name, darn it), she always has a clear mind to his faults and refuses to weaken herself for him. Definitely an inspirational character.
Nadia Stafford–She’s an assassin with a heart of gold. The lead character in the Nadia Stafford series by my favorite author, Kelley Armstrong, Nadia appears cute and unassuming. She’s the girl next door, but she’s hiding a gun under her jacket and won’t hesitate to kill in self-defense. There’s something appealing about that. *scratches chin* Can’t imagine why…
After the murder of her cousin when she’s young, Nadia becomes a police officer like the rest of her family. A trained sniper and so, a badass with a gun, Nadia goes off the rails when she fails to get a kid killer imprisoned…so she kills him herself. Publicly. Shunned by her family and fired from her police work, Nadia follows her dreams and starts a wilderness retreat…which she can’t seem to keep afloat financially. But her brand of vigilante justice catches the interest of a mob boss that needs bad guys taken care of…the rest is history.
By turning her childhood trauma into life as a vigilante assassin, Nadia is able to overcome what happened to her cousin, and unravel the mystery of what happened to her that fateful night. Despite her tendency toward specialty jobs, Nadia makes herself a name in the hitman world, a world usually dominated by strong arms or sexuality, without using any of those things.
And she also catches the interest of a man with somewhat less morals, but a willingness to turn things around…for the right woman.
Ender Wiggin–Though the Ender’s Game series of novels have been somewhat soured by Orson Scott Card and his 1) BLATANT and RAMPANT hate for the LGBTQ+ community; and 2) Card’s tendency to write relationships between the siblings in the stories that smacks of incest, Ender’s Game was my favorite novel for quite a long time.
Bred into a family of high intelligence in hopes that he will become the future of the battle against a breed of alien that threatens to destroy the Earth, Ender grows up in a family that nurtures and accepts him. All except his bully of an older brother, Peter, who tortures him to the point of traumatizing him.
When Ender is sent off to battle school, he is forced to prove himself among other rather exceptional children, most of which view him as a threat. Ender quickly learns that the only way to stop an attacker is to make sure they can’t come back at you again, and begins to fight with a brutal precision. While he works and eventually leads in surgical, deadly strikes, he also has an endless well of compassion and respect for life–a fact that eventually tears him apart when faced with the repercussions of his actions. However, it is this compassion that leads the calculating Ender into hero status, and helps him understand the alien threat.
So, that’s my name in characters I love. A common thread I have noticed is a hard edge, intelligence, cunning, and a willingness to overcome all obstacles. I tend to lead toward complex characters who are sometimes difficult to love, though not all of them fall into that category. The largest common thread I’ve discovered is that these characters are easy to respect. Either way, all of which are characters you should get to know…but if you’re as disgusted by Ender’s author as I am, only read Card if someone is throwing away his books…then toss them in a dumpster fire when you’re done. The others you can safely pursue through normal methods, I promise.
Hello all! If you’re wondering why I haven’t posted here in a month, I was busy working on my latest YA novel, A Light So Dim (I’m 7.5 chapters in) for Camp NaNoWriMo. I’ve also been reading. After my sister-in-law/co-councilor at Inkwell, a different Megan than the one who wrote the book this review is about, attended BookExpo and we both attended BookCon, the two of us found ourselves drowning in ARCs and purchases books–to the point of not having space on my bookshelves. So, I eeny-meenied my way through the stack, and picked my next read. That read turned out to be Fragments of the Lost by Megan Miranda.
Now, I think I should start by saying that, while Fragments of the Lost has a great cover that immediately gives the book a spooky, mysterious vibe, I never would have purchased this book if it hadn’t been given to me for free at an event. It’s not that the story doesn’t sound cool, and while I love some good mystery in my reading choices, my tastes normally run a bit too weird to pick a straight YA Mystery. But seeing as how I had been given it for free and it was the selection made through my very professional eeny-meeny method, I went for it. I turned out very glad I did, and am now adding the rest of Miranda’s novels to my to be read pile.
Book Summary: Jessa Whitworth knew she didn’t belong in her ex-boyfriend Caleb’s room. But she couldn’t deny that she was everywhere–in his photos, his neatly folded T-shirts, even the butterfly necklace in his jeans pocket . . . the one she gave him for safe keeping on that day.
His mother asked her to pack up his things–even though she blames Jessa for his accident. How could she say no? And maybe, just maybe, it will help her work through the guilt she feels about their final moments together.
But as Jessa begins to box up the pieces of Caleb’s life, they trigger memories that make Jessa realize their past relationship may not be exactly as she remembered. And she starts to question whether she really knew Caleb at all.
Each fragment of his life reveals a new clue that propels Jessa to search for the truth about Caleb’s accident. What really happened on the storm-swept bridge?
What I Enjoyed: The format of this story is what initially captured me. The fact that each chapter was titled according to something Jessa found in Caleb’s room and told the story of Jessa discovering it there, and a memory it triggered. As Jessa packs, another piece of the story is unwrapped, and we begin to build a picture of these characters, and the order of events that led to the accident. This structure-based release of information served the plot so well, and we got the opportunity to fully see the situation through Jessa’s eyes, and to solve the mystery yourself, or at least follow each step on Jessa’s journey to the truth.
This mystery was very well conceived and executed, and every piece of the puzzle slotted into place in a satisfactory manner, even if it sometimes took awhile for it to find its way there. The characters were each intriguingly flawed in their own way, and the message of the story was strong. We are not alone in this world, and each piece of a person’s life story is also a piece of those who loved them.
What I’d Avoid: There wasn’t much here that I was unhappy with. I really enjoyed this book from start to finish. When I glanced at other reviews, I found they had an issue with the pacing, but that never felt like a problem to me. It read smoothly, and the slower pace of the story was necessary to birth the frankly surprising turn in the mystery at the end. The build up to the twist was masterfully wrought.
Would I Recommend It: Absolutely. Anyone who loves a good mystery and doesn’t have an issue reading and loving YA (let’s face it, people who hate YA are out there) would enjoy this book.
What Can I Learn From It: This story was a master class in the slow unraveling of a mystery, and how to craft a mystery that makes sense and doesn’t feel like a total swerve when the ending is revealed. I don’t know if I could ever manage something similar, but I’m definitely motivated to now.
In the end, Fragments of the Lost was a mood piece that lived in the dark place of losing someone who was once so much a part of you. It was a great, touching read, with depth of feeling, interesting and complex characters, and a satisfying mystery. Check it out.
Today, I’m guest posting at All the Way YA about the emotional and professional lead up to my decision to shelve my first novel. Here’s a snippet of the post.
The Order of the Key was my dream novel, the book of my heart. I invented the idea for it when I was fifteen years old and I never expected to be shelving it, unpublished, twenty years later.
Jeez. Twenty years later. I don’t think I ever thought of it in those terms.
To be fair, I haven’t been working on it this entire time, and the book I’m stuffing in the musty shelf of my mind is definitely not the book I started with. The version I’d created at fifteen contained a completely unlikeable, hormonal, emotional (possibly based on myself) super-cool highly powerful sorceress teen, and she hunted vampires as she romanced her way through a team of stalwart heroes. Hey, cut me some slack. It was the age of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and it showed. The current, much cooler, much more mature version involves a fun and likeable geek who blunders her way through a semi-corrupt organization that fights interdimensional monsters and manages to find herself leading the rebellion to overthrow the corrupt portion of it.
When I say it has grown by leaps and bounds, I’m not just talking about its intriguing premise. The writing of the original novel was horrid. But it was the first thing I’d ever finished. I was proud of it.