The book: Under the Never Sky (Under the Never Sky #1)
The author: Veronica Rossi
The rating: 4 stars
Like Cinder and Legend before it, Under the Never Sky was one of those books that I'd been cognisant of for a long time but that I'd always passed up whenever I came across it at the bookstore. It had a pretty cover, a dystopian premise, and a whimsical title that appealed to the girly romantic in me, but the blurb always made me wary. Girl-from-dystopian-society meets savage-boy-from-the wilds and falls in love... it's not the kind of summary that instills the necessary confidence that it won't just be the sort of hackneyed dystopian-romance cash-in I know and loathe. However, after the debacle that was the Delirium series, I picked it up at the library, comforted by the fact that no matter what, it wouldn't be the worst book I read this summer.
Despite my low expectations, the first few chapters of Under the Never Sky didn't impress me much. Genetically-engineered perfect!girl with a cringeworthy name à la preteen fan-fiction, handwave-y future!tech, a futurified version of a topical societal issue to give the impression of being 'meaningful literature'... coupled with the fact that Rossi does not even have the advantage of Lauren Oliver's strangely-melodic prose, for a time I feared that I had been tempting fate with that whole 'it wouldn't be the worst book I read this summer' thought.
However, as I continued with the novel, I began to find that Under the Never Sky's dust jacket synopsis hadn't truly done the novel justice; the story was more than the Twilight-esque 'I-love-him-but-he's-dangerous' shtick that I had feared it might amount to be. The romance had surprising depth, realism, and humour; the fantasy elements gave the novel a unique twist; Rossi managed to continuously steer the novel away from the plot pitfalls into which I'd initially thought it would sink.
Overall, Under the Never Sky was by no means fantastic, but it was a solidly enjoyable start to what has the potential to be a solidly enjoyable series. I'll definitely be checking out Through the Ever Night at some point in the near future, though first on my list: the wildly successful A Song of Ice and Fire series. That might take me a while.
Wednesday, 20 August 2014
Sunday, 3 August 2014
27. Third Strike
The book: Requiem (Delirium #3)
The author: Lauren Oliver
The rating: 2 stars
I've been struggling to write a review for this book, procrastinating in a way that is normally reserved only for term papers and phone calls to relatives, and for a while I couldn't understand why. I've always enjoyed writing these reviews (it's not as if I'm being paid to tell the Internet my opinions, after all), but for some reason my subconscious seemed to be avoiding writing this review at all costs. By this point, I've already read another book that needs reviewing, so I've been forced to ret-con this review into existence lest not count Requiem towards my challenge total entirely. But now, struggling to think of something to say about the final, trite book in what I've found to be an entirely trite series, I've realized that the problem is that I simply didn't care one iota about Requiem.
Confession time: today is actually August 15th, not the 3rd, so I finished this book about two weeks ago, and I still don't have anything to say about it except to rehash everything I've said about Delirium and Pandemonium. It was boring; nothing stands out two weeks later except for the fact that the ending was positively horrendous. Utterly unexplored character deaths, arbitrary endpoints, and overall no semblance of closure for pretty much all of the major plot points of the trilogy. If I was actually emotionally invested in the series, I would probably have been thoroughly disappointed.
And, yeah, that's about it for this review. If you're thinking 'Wait, what? This review is over already? She hasn't even said anything yet!', then congratulations! That's the exact feeling you'll get when you turn the last page of Requiem. Now that you've got that experience out of the way, you can leave the Delirium series on the shelf and save yourself a handful of hours of your hard-earned free time.
The author: Lauren Oliver
The rating: 2 stars
I've been struggling to write a review for this book, procrastinating in a way that is normally reserved only for term papers and phone calls to relatives, and for a while I couldn't understand why. I've always enjoyed writing these reviews (it's not as if I'm being paid to tell the Internet my opinions, after all), but for some reason my subconscious seemed to be avoiding writing this review at all costs. By this point, I've already read another book that needs reviewing, so I've been forced to ret-con this review into existence lest not count Requiem towards my challenge total entirely. But now, struggling to think of something to say about the final, trite book in what I've found to be an entirely trite series, I've realized that the problem is that I simply didn't care one iota about Requiem.
Confession time: today is actually August 15th, not the 3rd, so I finished this book about two weeks ago, and I still don't have anything to say about it except to rehash everything I've said about Delirium and Pandemonium. It was boring; nothing stands out two weeks later except for the fact that the ending was positively horrendous. Utterly unexplored character deaths, arbitrary endpoints, and overall no semblance of closure for pretty much all of the major plot points of the trilogy. If I was actually emotionally invested in the series, I would probably have been thoroughly disappointed.
And, yeah, that's about it for this review. If you're thinking 'Wait, what? This review is over already? She hasn't even said anything yet!', then congratulations! That's the exact feeling you'll get when you turn the last page of Requiem. Now that you've got that experience out of the way, you can leave the Delirium series on the shelf and save yourself a handful of hours of your hard-earned free time.
Friday, 25 July 2014
26. C'est Pareil
The book: Pandemonium (Delirium #2)
The author: Lauren Oliver
The rating: 3 stars
I don't know if I'd go so far as to say that Pandemonium was even worse than Delirium, but it certainly wasn't any better. All the failings of the original were back in full force, coupled with a few new transgressions.
The twists still were dull and predictable, although Oliver does not have Lena figure things out until chapters after it has become blatantly obvious to the reader. This contributes to Lena's downward spiral into a completely grating, intolerable heroine, although her slowness does not hold a candle to the awful romantic plot of Pandemonium. I mentioned in my review of Delirium that the Lena/Alex romance was painfully instantaneous—her entire view of the world, morality, and herself is utterly transformed in just a few days with a cute boy? Really?—but having suspended my incredulity over this unlikely instalove and accepted the fact that Lena and Alex simply had some sort of deep, pure, unfathomable love that seventeen-year-old, never-been-kissed me cannot even begin to contemplate, I found the new romance between Julian and Lena to be completely nonsensical. It hasn't been years and she is finally healing and moving on—it has been six months, for goodness sake! Unless Oliver is trying to make a commentary on the shallowness of teenage love (which is doubtful, considering how heavily her novels are leaning on the whole true-love-romance shtick), I cannot comprehend the rationale behind Julian's inclusion in the narrative other than to force our 'completely ordinary' heroine into a love triangle with two incredibly kind, funny, attractive guys. Oh, how will she ever cope?
My second gripe about the novel is that it seems to have caught the 'overly convenient' bug. Our heroes are able to guess four-digit, numeric passcodes (twice!) using rather implausible logic; on multiple occasions Lena happens to overhear exactly the piece of information she needs at exactly the right time, like when a guard just happens to mention Julian's hospital while she's eavesdropping. No mundane, unhelpful chitchat about Joe's new cocker spaniel or how Ann traded Larry for the night shift; the only thing she overhears is exactly what she needs to know. I understand the need to trim the fat and conserve plot details, but really? It all oozes of contrived.
I suppose we have time for one final complaint: Oliver's stock purple prose. If I have to read one more teen novel where the heroine describes her male love interest as smelling of 'boy,' I am going to puke. Seriously, was this descriptor in some writing seminar I missed? Is Chapter ten of Writing Teen Romance for Dummies titled Male Olfactory Attractiveness? I am finding it just a bit strangely specific.
Despite my general dislike of everything to do with this series, I've already downloaded the trilogy's final installment onto my eReader. I'm not optimistic enough to chalk Pandemonium up to Middle Novel Syndrome; I'm almost certain that my opinion of this saga won't be saved by reading Requiem, but at least there's something cathartic about a surefire chance to complain.
My second gripe about the novel is that it seems to have caught the 'overly convenient' bug. Our heroes are able to guess four-digit, numeric passcodes (twice!) using rather implausible logic; on multiple occasions Lena happens to overhear exactly the piece of information she needs at exactly the right time, like when a guard just happens to mention Julian's hospital while she's eavesdropping. No mundane, unhelpful chitchat about Joe's new cocker spaniel or how Ann traded Larry for the night shift; the only thing she overhears is exactly what she needs to know. I understand the need to trim the fat and conserve plot details, but really? It all oozes of contrived.
I suppose we have time for one final complaint: Oliver's stock purple prose. If I have to read one more teen novel where the heroine describes her male love interest as smelling of 'boy,' I am going to puke. Seriously, was this descriptor in some writing seminar I missed? Is Chapter ten of Writing Teen Romance for Dummies titled Male Olfactory Attractiveness? I am finding it just a bit strangely specific.
Despite my general dislike of everything to do with this series, I've already downloaded the trilogy's final installment onto my eReader. I'm not optimistic enough to chalk Pandemonium up to Middle Novel Syndrome; I'm almost certain that my opinion of this saga won't be saved by reading Requiem, but at least there's something cathartic about a surefire chance to complain.
Sunday, 13 July 2014
25. Tedium
The book: Delirium (Delirium #1)
The author: Lauren Oliver
The rating: 3 stars
This book was a dystopia, that's for sure. An unimaginative, derivative dystopia, whose main 'twist' (love being forbidden) isn't really a twist at all; it's a frequent feature of dystopian literature. I'd say about half of the dystopian novels I've read also have people paired up in assigned couple units: The Giver, Matched... even Brave New World's hypersexual society portrays love as something alien and wrong.
Nevertheless, I'm a huge dystopia fan; there are worse things in the genre than cookie-cutter worlds, and so that alone wouldn't ruin the book for me. However, Oliver does not find redemption on any other front. The romance between Lena and Alex is one of paper-thin instalove. Sorry, best-friend-since-childhood, I won't shift my world view one iota based on your pleas. Oh, hello boy-I-just-met-and-who-I've-been-raised-to-wholeheartedly-believe-is-dangerous, a few days with you and my entire personality has been overhauled! Secondary characters seem pulled out of cliches: evil-stepfamily (and, just like in Cinder, the youngest stepsister is the exception);* stone-hearted policemen; so-much-better-than-me best friend (to prove just how 'ordinary' our heroine is)...
The plot twists are equally trite. Oh, the future dystopian world is enclosed by a fence, outside of which there is no civilization? I wonder where I've seen that before... (for the benefit of the hypothetical reader who has never, ever read a single dystopian novel in their entire life, the answer to that seemingly-rhetorical question is, of course, everywhere.) Coupled with the old 'if you don't see the body' law of fiction, nothing Delirium threw at me came as any sort of surprise.
While there is nothing special about Delirium, I don't mean to suggest that it is an entirely terrible novel. Oliver's prose is rather enjoyable to read, even if her subject matter isn't the most stimulating. I also found the epigraphs at the start of each chapter to be a nice touch; they allow the reader to become a bit more immersed in the culture of Oliver's world, something that is otherwise too scarcely referenced.
Despite my reservations, I have already picked up the second book in the series, Pandemonium. Perhaps some of the more problematic areas of Delirium will be rectified in this second installment, although I certainly won't be holding my breath.
*Yes, technically Lena's adopted family are her cousins, not her stepsisters, but the point still stands.
The author: Lauren Oliver
The rating: 3 stars
This book was a dystopia, that's for sure. An unimaginative, derivative dystopia, whose main 'twist' (love being forbidden) isn't really a twist at all; it's a frequent feature of dystopian literature. I'd say about half of the dystopian novels I've read also have people paired up in assigned couple units: The Giver, Matched... even Brave New World's hypersexual society portrays love as something alien and wrong.
Nevertheless, I'm a huge dystopia fan; there are worse things in the genre than cookie-cutter worlds, and so that alone wouldn't ruin the book for me. However, Oliver does not find redemption on any other front. The romance between Lena and Alex is one of paper-thin instalove. Sorry, best-friend-since-childhood, I won't shift my world view one iota based on your pleas. Oh, hello boy-I-just-met-and-who-I've-been-raised-to-wholeheartedly-believe-is-dangerous, a few days with you and my entire personality has been overhauled! Secondary characters seem pulled out of cliches: evil-stepfamily (and, just like in Cinder, the youngest stepsister is the exception);* stone-hearted policemen; so-much-better-than-me best friend (to prove just how 'ordinary' our heroine is)...
The plot twists are equally trite. Oh, the future dystopian world is enclosed by a fence, outside of which there is no civilization? I wonder where I've seen that before... (for the benefit of the hypothetical reader who has never, ever read a single dystopian novel in their entire life, the answer to that seemingly-rhetorical question is, of course, everywhere.) Coupled with the old 'if you don't see the body' law of fiction, nothing Delirium threw at me came as any sort of surprise.
While there is nothing special about Delirium, I don't mean to suggest that it is an entirely terrible novel. Oliver's prose is rather enjoyable to read, even if her subject matter isn't the most stimulating. I also found the epigraphs at the start of each chapter to be a nice touch; they allow the reader to become a bit more immersed in the culture of Oliver's world, something that is otherwise too scarcely referenced.
Despite my reservations, I have already picked up the second book in the series, Pandemonium. Perhaps some of the more problematic areas of Delirium will be rectified in this second installment, although I certainly won't be holding my breath.
*Yes, technically Lena's adopted family are her cousins, not her stepsisters, but the point still stands.
Sunday, 6 July 2014
24. A Little Untrusting
The book: Push (The Game #2)
The author: Eve Silver
The rating: 4.5 stars
This has very little relevance to the following review, but the entire time I was reading this book, I couldn't get "Push" by Matchbox Twenty out of head. M'kay, moving right along...
I know that I've complained about Middle Novel Syndrome a lot in the past, so I was pleasantly surprised to find that Push was just as good as its predecessor - I'd go so far as to argue that it was a bit better. Miki's 'real world' life felt a bit less one-dimensional, there was nary a mention of the love triangle that had plagued the first novel, and the pacing was superb. When reading novels on my eReader, I have a habit of checking every couple of minutes to see what percent of the book I've completed thus far, but I was so utterly engrossed in Push that it came as a complete surprise when I turned the last page to find that there weren't any chapters left. The cliffhanger ending was the perfect level of satisfaction and mystery, leaving me without a doubt in my mind that I will be diving into the next book in the series the moment it hits shelves. Quite frankly, after Rush I had expected the series to be of the 'And then...' variety, but Silver is weaving one coherent story. Despite my once having called Rush 'empty calories,' it is becoming more and more apparent that The Game is a full-bodied and unique series (although again, if Crash pulls an Ender's Game twist, I'm going to have to apply some heavy penalties in the uniqueness department).
Hopefully this doesn't come across as a tad sadistic, but one of my favourite plot elements is when something awful happens to one of the protagonists and we get the chance to see the reactions of the other characters; I feel that it allows us to see inside a character or a relationship so much better. I'm not talking about the ending of Allegiant, but moreso our hero going missing, or getting amnesia, or suffering from a Heroic BSOD. I suppose it's just a specific type of dramatic irony, but done well, it can be a huge helper in selling me on a relationship, and that was the case in Push. Jackson's disappearance from the end of Rush isn't immediately resolved, and Miki's thoughts and actions in relation to his absence allowed me to become much more invested in their relationship than I otherwise might. At times, their touchy-feely courtship did rub me the wrong way, but due to the solid foundation that had been thus established, it wasn't unbearable.
As to the plot itself, given the fact that the story is well-spread across the installments, I think I'll have to read Crash before I'll be able to make a judgement. The story has potential - the groundwork has been laid - but I have the feeling that The Game is one of those series where the conclusion will make or break everything that has come before. A bad ending makes the setup trite, overdetailed, and ham-handed. An amazing ending, on the other hand... well, I guess just time will tell.
The author: Eve Silver
The rating: 4.5 stars
This has very little relevance to the following review, but the entire time I was reading this book, I couldn't get "Push" by Matchbox Twenty out of head. M'kay, moving right along...
I know that I've complained about Middle Novel Syndrome a lot in the past, so I was pleasantly surprised to find that Push was just as good as its predecessor - I'd go so far as to argue that it was a bit better. Miki's 'real world' life felt a bit less one-dimensional, there was nary a mention of the love triangle that had plagued the first novel, and the pacing was superb. When reading novels on my eReader, I have a habit of checking every couple of minutes to see what percent of the book I've completed thus far, but I was so utterly engrossed in Push that it came as a complete surprise when I turned the last page to find that there weren't any chapters left. The cliffhanger ending was the perfect level of satisfaction and mystery, leaving me without a doubt in my mind that I will be diving into the next book in the series the moment it hits shelves. Quite frankly, after Rush I had expected the series to be of the 'And then...' variety, but Silver is weaving one coherent story. Despite my once having called Rush 'empty calories,' it is becoming more and more apparent that The Game is a full-bodied and unique series (although again, if Crash pulls an Ender's Game twist, I'm going to have to apply some heavy penalties in the uniqueness department).
Hopefully this doesn't come across as a tad sadistic, but one of my favourite plot elements is when something awful happens to one of the protagonists and we get the chance to see the reactions of the other characters; I feel that it allows us to see inside a character or a relationship so much better. I'm not talking about the ending of Allegiant, but moreso our hero going missing, or getting amnesia, or suffering from a Heroic BSOD. I suppose it's just a specific type of dramatic irony, but done well, it can be a huge helper in selling me on a relationship, and that was the case in Push. Jackson's disappearance from the end of Rush isn't immediately resolved, and Miki's thoughts and actions in relation to his absence allowed me to become much more invested in their relationship than I otherwise might. At times, their touchy-feely courtship did rub me the wrong way, but due to the solid foundation that had been thus established, it wasn't unbearable.
As to the plot itself, given the fact that the story is well-spread across the installments, I think I'll have to read Crash before I'll be able to make a judgement. The story has potential - the groundwork has been laid - but I have the feeling that The Game is one of those series where the conclusion will make or break everything that has come before. A bad ending makes the setup trite, overdetailed, and ham-handed. An amazing ending, on the other hand... well, I guess just time will tell.
Wednesday, 18 June 2014
23. Agency
The book: Fractured (Slated #2)
The author: Teri Terry
The rating: 3 stars
Simply put, Fractured pales in comparison to the first novel in the series. The wonderful, immersive, and thrilling story is replaced by a slew of cheap twists and turns, coming at the reader at the bizarre pace of nothing at all, and then all at once. There's the twist where that character you knew was a bad guy all along reveals that they were a bad guy all along (to be honest, there's quite a few of these). There's the twist where that character you knew was going to die dies. There's the twist where that character you knew was a good guy all along reveals that they were a good guy all along. And it's not just double agents; its triple and quadruple and pseudo-agents that are all thrown at you at such a rapid-fire pace that you couldn't give two hoots about any of them.
Furthermore, I stopped caring about Kyla. As she gained literal freedom, losing her Levo and regaining some of her past, her character bizarrely lost agency, tossed between one group and another, constantly manipulated and with no discernible spirit of her own other than an ever-present, grating whine for her instalove, Ben. The other characters were just as drab. The interesting cast of the first book was mostly sidelined, their roles marginalized to mere plot devices: Amy, Kyla's mum, Ben, even Dr. Lysander, to a point. Their pagetime is given away to an irritating cast of terrorists from Kyla's past life as Rain; Nico in particular was grating to read. Just as the intriguing characters were replaced by a flat ensemble with obvious fates, the thought-provoking questions of memory and identity were pushed aside to make room for a lackluster exploration of whether killing is ever justified. The side supporting violence is designed to be soulless and extreme, making this exploration fairly unsatisfying; the reader is never forced to deal with a moral quandary, as it is always obvious that the AGT is just as bad as the Lorders.
However, Fractured is also the opposite of Slated in another regard: while fantastic-novel Slated had a weak ending, Fractured's final chapters are perhaps the best part of the novel. If the tone set at the end of Fractured carries over into its sequel like Slated's did, Shattered may well redeem the series for all this middle novel's wrongs. I'm eager to finally learn more about Lucy and move far, far, away from Rain, easily the most intolerable of Kyla's threefold identities. Shattered may not be next on my reading list, but Fractured hasn't quashed my spirit enough to stop me from coming back entirely.
The author: Teri Terry
The rating: 3 stars
Simply put, Fractured pales in comparison to the first novel in the series. The wonderful, immersive, and thrilling story is replaced by a slew of cheap twists and turns, coming at the reader at the bizarre pace of nothing at all, and then all at once. There's the twist where that character you knew was a bad guy all along reveals that they were a bad guy all along (to be honest, there's quite a few of these). There's the twist where that character you knew was going to die dies. There's the twist where that character you knew was a good guy all along reveals that they were a good guy all along. And it's not just double agents; its triple and quadruple and pseudo-agents that are all thrown at you at such a rapid-fire pace that you couldn't give two hoots about any of them.
Furthermore, I stopped caring about Kyla. As she gained literal freedom, losing her Levo and regaining some of her past, her character bizarrely lost agency, tossed between one group and another, constantly manipulated and with no discernible spirit of her own other than an ever-present, grating whine for her instalove, Ben. The other characters were just as drab. The interesting cast of the first book was mostly sidelined, their roles marginalized to mere plot devices: Amy, Kyla's mum, Ben, even Dr. Lysander, to a point. Their pagetime is given away to an irritating cast of terrorists from Kyla's past life as Rain; Nico in particular was grating to read. Just as the intriguing characters were replaced by a flat ensemble with obvious fates, the thought-provoking questions of memory and identity were pushed aside to make room for a lackluster exploration of whether killing is ever justified. The side supporting violence is designed to be soulless and extreme, making this exploration fairly unsatisfying; the reader is never forced to deal with a moral quandary, as it is always obvious that the AGT is just as bad as the Lorders.
However, Fractured is also the opposite of Slated in another regard: while fantastic-novel Slated had a weak ending, Fractured's final chapters are perhaps the best part of the novel. If the tone set at the end of Fractured carries over into its sequel like Slated's did, Shattered may well redeem the series for all this middle novel's wrongs. I'm eager to finally learn more about Lucy and move far, far, away from Rain, easily the most intolerable of Kyla's threefold identities. Shattered may not be next on my reading list, but Fractured hasn't quashed my spirit enough to stop me from coming back entirely.
Tuesday, 10 June 2014
22. Clean Slate
The book: Slated (Slated #1)
The author: Teri Terry
The rating: 4.5 stars
Lucy isn't okay; she is as good as dead. She doesn't exist anymore. She's been Slated.
There are a lot of works which have been described as "riveting psychological thrillers" and are anything but. Slated, on the other hand, is well-deserving of the epithet. The suspense Terry creates from the very first page is palpable and unnerving, a combination of the Chasing Yesterday series by Robin Wasserman, the Dollhouse tv-show, and The Unbecoming of Mara Dyer (before the latter lost all suspense and became just another trite paranormal romance). This suspense comes in part from Terry's voice and the way in which she describes the world, but also from the characters. Again, unnerving is the best descriptor for many of the chilling cast, their smiles and murky motivations leaving the reader, like protagonist Kyla, unsure of who to trust. Characters introduced in a negative light gradually shift to be perceived as friends; characters that initially appear allied to Kyla take on darker meanings. There's no certainties on which to cling, nobody who is incontestably on Kyla's side, not even Kyla herself, devoid of her memories and her past, but with instincts and talents that remain as vestiges of the girl she must have been before.
Another aspect which contributes to the suspense is Terry's worldbuilding, something with which I seem to be fixated as of late, but I still attest that it is extremely significant to a good futuristic story. Worldbuilding is well-integrated into Slated, a trait that stands out when info-dumps seem to be the norm in YA dystopian fiction. Terry has mastered the 'show not tell' method of building her world, and accomplishes this feat without ever causing the reader to feel utterly confused and lost, unable to follow the story due to thick jargon or oblique historical references. Furthermore, this future-UK is not farfetched or completely unbelievable. There is no outrageous future-tech or unlikely historic events, just a restrained inclusion of a few important developments: peaceful student protests that began to escalate; right versus left political tension that resulted in society toeing centre; new medical treatments coming out of autism research. Heck, the way Kyla and Ben interact with their Levos is reminiscent of diabetics checking their blood sugar. Unlike stories involving Space Amish, I can clearly imagine how society went from life as we know it today to Slated's future world; Terry uses past events to mould an undeniably plausible future, and this plausibility further increases the atmosphere of tension and suspense.
Aside from the suspense, another of Slated's virtues is the novel's intriguing premise. Growing up, there were three types of novels that really enthralled me: paranormal tales about witches or fae, vampires or psychics; stories about futuristic societies where danger lurked behind an idyllic surface; and finally, exciting thrillers about lost memories, amnesia, and forgotten identities. As a kid, I could find amazing books in all three of my favourite genres if I looked, but after Twilight hit it big, paranormal stories exploded. Nowadays, hundreds of paranormal romance clones flood the market, and I avoid them like the plague; while there's likely still ones out there as good as those I'd always loved, more often than not I'll just end up disappointed by a shoddy love triangle when I pick up an urban fantasy or paranormal adventure. The second of my favourites also rose to prominence in the form of the dystopian genre, fueled by The Hunger Games and others like it. Dystopia is also beginning to suffer from an oversaturation of poor copycat novels, trying to cash in on the successful trend, but evidently I haven't given up hope on that one yet. While this book is also a dystopia, the final genre fits Slated like a glove: stories that explore identity and memory. Unlike the previous two types, this kind of novel has yet to rise in popularity, and so while there are a number of books that fall into the category, it enjoys a much greater sense of originality. There are new ideas to explore here, and Slated explores them with insight and finesse. If all our memories are taken from us, is the person we were "as good as dead?" Are our memories all that make us who we are?
However, I did have a few quibbles with the novel that prevent me from awarding it the elusive five stars. For one, I found that Kyla occasionally slipped into the role of a Mary Sue superstar: she's an exceptional, one-of-a-kind artist; she's the fastest runner in the school, faster than all the other girls and also the top male athlete, even though she joined cross country on a whim and had been in a hospital for nine months or more; she's a bit of a brainiac, finding the school entry test a breeze and able to slide immediately into regular classes. Most of the time, it's not an overwhelming aura of Mary Sue, and perhaps Kyla's special talents may be better explained in the sequel after her history is more greatly uncovered, but nonetheless, just how "special" she was left a slightly tinny taste in my mouth after an otherwise exquisite meal.
The only other problem I had was the ending, establishing the hook that will lead into the second novel in the series, Fractured. After an original, thought-provoking and well-paced plot, the last chapter seemed to be an info-dump, clumsily setting up what may be the type of undesirable vanilla rebel plot I have mentioned in previous reviews. This wrong-note ending caused the tinny taste to remain even after the delicious flavours of the novel had begun to recede, something which has me slightly worried for what Fractured has in store. However, one bad chapter doesn't necessarily spoil the whole bunch; a bit of trepidation won't temper my need to find out what happens to Kyla next, and Fractured still sits square on top of my reading list.
The author: Teri Terry
The rating: 4.5 stars
Lucy isn't okay; she is as good as dead. She doesn't exist anymore. She's been Slated.
There are a lot of works which have been described as "riveting psychological thrillers" and are anything but. Slated, on the other hand, is well-deserving of the epithet. The suspense Terry creates from the very first page is palpable and unnerving, a combination of the Chasing Yesterday series by Robin Wasserman, the Dollhouse tv-show, and The Unbecoming of Mara Dyer (before the latter lost all suspense and became just another trite paranormal romance). This suspense comes in part from Terry's voice and the way in which she describes the world, but also from the characters. Again, unnerving is the best descriptor for many of the chilling cast, their smiles and murky motivations leaving the reader, like protagonist Kyla, unsure of who to trust. Characters introduced in a negative light gradually shift to be perceived as friends; characters that initially appear allied to Kyla take on darker meanings. There's no certainties on which to cling, nobody who is incontestably on Kyla's side, not even Kyla herself, devoid of her memories and her past, but with instincts and talents that remain as vestiges of the girl she must have been before.
Another aspect which contributes to the suspense is Terry's worldbuilding, something with which I seem to be fixated as of late, but I still attest that it is extremely significant to a good futuristic story. Worldbuilding is well-integrated into Slated, a trait that stands out when info-dumps seem to be the norm in YA dystopian fiction. Terry has mastered the 'show not tell' method of building her world, and accomplishes this feat without ever causing the reader to feel utterly confused and lost, unable to follow the story due to thick jargon or oblique historical references. Furthermore, this future-UK is not farfetched or completely unbelievable. There is no outrageous future-tech or unlikely historic events, just a restrained inclusion of a few important developments: peaceful student protests that began to escalate; right versus left political tension that resulted in society toeing centre; new medical treatments coming out of autism research. Heck, the way Kyla and Ben interact with their Levos is reminiscent of diabetics checking their blood sugar. Unlike stories involving Space Amish, I can clearly imagine how society went from life as we know it today to Slated's future world; Terry uses past events to mould an undeniably plausible future, and this plausibility further increases the atmosphere of tension and suspense.
Aside from the suspense, another of Slated's virtues is the novel's intriguing premise. Growing up, there were three types of novels that really enthralled me: paranormal tales about witches or fae, vampires or psychics; stories about futuristic societies where danger lurked behind an idyllic surface; and finally, exciting thrillers about lost memories, amnesia, and forgotten identities. As a kid, I could find amazing books in all three of my favourite genres if I looked, but after Twilight hit it big, paranormal stories exploded. Nowadays, hundreds of paranormal romance clones flood the market, and I avoid them like the plague; while there's likely still ones out there as good as those I'd always loved, more often than not I'll just end up disappointed by a shoddy love triangle when I pick up an urban fantasy or paranormal adventure. The second of my favourites also rose to prominence in the form of the dystopian genre, fueled by The Hunger Games and others like it. Dystopia is also beginning to suffer from an oversaturation of poor copycat novels, trying to cash in on the successful trend, but evidently I haven't given up hope on that one yet. While this book is also a dystopia, the final genre fits Slated like a glove: stories that explore identity and memory. Unlike the previous two types, this kind of novel has yet to rise in popularity, and so while there are a number of books that fall into the category, it enjoys a much greater sense of originality. There are new ideas to explore here, and Slated explores them with insight and finesse. If all our memories are taken from us, is the person we were "as good as dead?" Are our memories all that make us who we are?
However, I did have a few quibbles with the novel that prevent me from awarding it the elusive five stars. For one, I found that Kyla occasionally slipped into the role of a Mary Sue superstar: she's an exceptional, one-of-a-kind artist; she's the fastest runner in the school, faster than all the other girls and also the top male athlete, even though she joined cross country on a whim and had been in a hospital for nine months or more; she's a bit of a brainiac, finding the school entry test a breeze and able to slide immediately into regular classes. Most of the time, it's not an overwhelming aura of Mary Sue, and perhaps Kyla's special talents may be better explained in the sequel after her history is more greatly uncovered, but nonetheless, just how "special" she was left a slightly tinny taste in my mouth after an otherwise exquisite meal.
The only other problem I had was the ending, establishing the hook that will lead into the second novel in the series, Fractured. After an original, thought-provoking and well-paced plot, the last chapter seemed to be an info-dump, clumsily setting up what may be the type of undesirable vanilla rebel plot I have mentioned in previous reviews. This wrong-note ending caused the tinny taste to remain even after the delicious flavours of the novel had begun to recede, something which has me slightly worried for what Fractured has in store. However, one bad chapter doesn't necessarily spoil the whole bunch; a bit of trepidation won't temper my need to find out what happens to Kyla next, and Fractured still sits square on top of my reading list.
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