The Shadowshaper Cypher Book 2
Daniel José Older
Arthur A. Levine Books, September 2017
Sierra and her wildly creative companions were captivating in Shadowshaper. Clever consolidation of mad musical, verbal and graffiti-art skills created a dazzling cultural kaleidoscope that pulsated from the pages, and showed more than the shadowshaping-side of life in Brooklyn. The sequel, Shadowhouse Fall, is every bit as delightful and dazzling, even as it tackles topics that parallel today’s headlines in an eerily accurate and chilling way.
Sierra has just learned of her role as the archetypal spirit, Lucera, “…the beating heart of the shadowshaping world.” Never one to shirk responsibility, always a fierce protector; she’s doggedly immersed herself in learning, teaching and practicing shadowshaping. Before she even begins to realize her potential, Sierra is forced to shift her focus.
The Sisterhood of the Sorrows had vowed revenge when Sierra “jacked up their shrine last summer,” precisely what Sierra and ‘her’ shadowshapers are preparing for; but no one could have predicted an attack so soon. It should have ben impossible. Unless…the Sorrows are not alone.
To even stand a chance against an unknown in the urban spirituality system, each shadowshaper will need to be strong and smart independently; swift to support and assist when needed. Basically, battling as they live, to save the community they dearly love. Accustomed to every day prejudices and profiling, Sierra and her friends knew to expect hassle, rather than help, from the largely racist civil servants.
Mr. Older’s scintillating style swiftly hooks even the reluctant reader. The scramble to fight the good fight is gripping and the escalation towards the end, engrossing. When Sierra is left with only two choices, neither of which would result in a happy ending for her; Mr. Older presents a decision that, while not actually surprising, is absolutely unexpected.
Reviewed by jv poore, September 2017.
The Call, Book 1
David Fickling Books, August 2016
Nessa was celebrating her 10th birthday when her childhood abruptly ended. Instead of giving gifts and baking a cake, her parents explain The Call.
The little girl that built an emotional armor against people’s perceptions; both the pitying looks as well as the ones filled with contempt and disbelief, is intelligent enough to understand the uselessness of her efforts. Her legs, twisted by polio into more of a hindrance than a help, have gone from a focal point to a genuine liability.
Held hostage and wholly isolated these Irish folks have but one focus: teaching the children to survive The Call. From the age of ten through the teenage years, training is vigorous and relentless. Just shy of cruel, the grueling paces are unquestionably a necessary evil. Almost one in ten survive today, an exponential improvement over the one in one hundred from decades ago. An amazing accomplishment, as fairies have an undeniable advantage when they pull a human child into their world.
Irish fairies may be my very favorite folklore creatures, and Mr. O’Guilin portrays them perfectly in The Call. The one universal fact seems to be that fairies cannot lie and they possess a perverse pride in always keeping their word. Bad to the core, but bound by these rules, Sidhe are as clever and cunning as they are cruel.
The hideous game of fairy versus human, produces a plot that is exciting, fast-paced and adventurous, accented with awesome action scenes. Of course, nothing is so simple and definite in reality and Mr. O’Guilin does not settle for solely myth against man. Most humans are considerate, committed to the greater good; but a few are slimy and self-serving. Mystique makes the tale even more compelling and builds suspense creating compulsory page-turning. Coupled with colorful, captivating characters and sharp and witty dialogue, The Call is a brilliant book that I enjoyed immensely.
Reviewed by jv poore, April 2017.
Better to Wish
Family Tree Series, Book 1
Ann M. Martin
Scholastic Press, May 2013
Initial intrigue blossomed into complete captivation as Abby’s narration revealed an inexplicably sweet, strong and resilient girl—a compassionate, sympathetic soul–in spite of circumstances. The centenarian’s story begins on a summer evening in 1930. As one memory leads to another, her life unfolds like a map.
Abby’s father feels that Maine should be “white”. Specifically, Protestant and Republican. His daughters aren’t allowed to befriend a girl because her parents emigrated from Quebec—she’s “French”, not “white”. Also below his determined Nichols’ Family Standards; “lazy bums…Irish-Catholics.” Certainly vocal with his opinion, he nevertheless does not seem to stand out to the family, or the community, as a particularly obnoxious, racist fool.
Although Abby’s mother has many bad days with “her mind stuck thinking” of two tremendous losses that left permanent holes in her heart; Dad wants a son. Baby Fred arrives. At home, Dad can pretend that Fred is developing, learning and growing at an average rate. Abby, Rose and their mother know differently, but it has no impact on their love and devotion to the charming child.
At the age of 5, Fred behaves like any toddler—including the time he is forced to sit through a high school awards ceremony. Due to the perceived public embarrassment, the head of the household deems his son less than perfect. Imperfection is unacceptable, leaving Mr. Nichols with no choice. He informs the family after exercising his “only” option.
Throughout the tumultuous times, Abby intuitively empathizes and instinctively protects those she loves and holds dear first, all other human beings second, thinking of her own wants and needs last, if at all. Abby is the epitome of “good people” and her story instills hope.
Reviewed by jv poore, February 2017.