bookshelves of doom

YA Tickles the Ivories: Seven Stories about Piano Prodigies.

I had so much fun putting together yesterday's list about Norse mythology—and, to those who have asked, I'm planning on reading Icefall and West of the Moon ASAP—that I'm doing another one today. This time, as you've likely gathered from the title, I'm focusing on young pianists.

I chose the topic largely because I recently—FINALLY—read the first book on the list. 

The Lucy Variations, by Sara Zarr

I've come to the conclusion that Sara Zarr is incapable of writing a flawed book. If you're a fan of contemporaries and she's NOT on your radar, WELL. I think said radar might need some recalibrating.

Lucy Beck-Moreau is a child of privilege, a piano prodigy who was on the fast track to fame and fortune, when, in a moment of grief and rage, she quit. It's been eight months since that day, and she hasn't played since. Now, all of the family's expectations—along with the resulting pressure—is on her younger brother's shoulders. Due to the unexpected death of his instructor, the family hires young Will R. Devi, and his influence sparks Lucy's reevaluation of her life choices, her relationship with music and with her family, and her future.

It's about music; about art; about beauty; about snobbery and elitism; about grief; about trust and manipulation and spite; about how a clash between two stubborn people can ultimately result in both sides losing; about economic class and using people to further your own ends and living THROUGH other people and about CHOOSING YOURSELF. All of the relationships are so complex—Lucy and her mother, her father, her grandfather, her brother, her best friend, her teacher, and, of course, Will—that I really don't think it would be possible for me to praise it highly enough. Lucy's various relationships with adult males are particularly interesting (and in two cases, HUGELY UNCOMFORTABLE, so much so that I moaned, NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO DON'T GO THERE DON'T GO THERE more than once while reading, but I should have had trust, because GO THERE ZARR DID, and it was SO WELL DONE) and, yeah. SUCH A GOOD BOOK.

Ahem.

Out of the Dust, by Karen Hesse

The Ultimate Dust Bowl Sobfest. I very clearly remember reading this one on my lunchbreak at the bookstore, and crying so much that the manager sent me away to go and take a SECOND LUNCH BREAK. Beautifully written.

And now for a few that I haven't read!

Fingers, by William Sleator

The plot of this one—child piano prodigy grows up and is no longer interesting to the public, so his mother decides that they will market him as a MUSICAL MEDIUM WHO IS CHANNELING A LONG-DEAD GYPSY COMPOSER, WHAAAAAAAT but then his older brother starts to suspect that his little brother is ACTUALLY BEING POSSESSED, DOUBLE WHAAAAAAAT—immediately makes me think of Lois Duncan's Down a Dark Hall, what with Franz Schubert possessing Kit and all. And now I just want to read Lois Duncan all day long.

Chopsticks, by Jessica Anthony

Actually, I know that I read this one, but I can't remember a thing about it beyond the format—it's a collage-style story told mostly in photos, IMs, drawings, and ephemera—and that it's about a pianist. I should probably revisit it, because the more I think about it, the more I remember, and I'm suddenly suspecting that it's one that's worth a re-read or two.

The Gathering Dark, by Christine Johnson

A Maine girl wants nothing more than to play her piano, escape her hometown, and go to Julliard. Then, a MYSTERIOUS NEW TATTOOED BOY arrives in town, and paranormal complications ensue. Despite the Maine connection, I'm inclined to skip this one—I'm a little bit MYSTERIOUS NEW BOYed out.

Broken Chords, by Barbara Gilbert
Four Seasons, by Jane Breskin Zalben

Two books about young prodigies reevaluating their respective futures: one has a wrist injury that allows her to take a few weeks off and explore ballet (really?), and the other weighs her life of never-ending practice, pressure, performance against first love, friendship, and free time.

There are plenty of others where the prodigies are secondary characters—Geoff Herbach's Stupid Fast, for one—but these are the major ones ABOUT pianists that I came up with. Did I miss anything super?

YA Gets Nordic: Seven Stories with Roots in Norse Mythology.

I have a soft spot for Norse mythology, and believe it or not, said affection DOES predate Chris Hemsworth and Tom Hiddleston's respective portrayals of Thor and Loki. Maybe it's because our childhood dog was named Loki? Or because of all of the shenanigans in Douglas Adams' Long Dark Tea-Time of the Soul?

Wherever and whenever the affection stems from, it's made me happy to see more and more of it trickle into the YA section.

So, here are a few that are on my radar, some that I've read, some that I'd like to read:

Loki's Wolves and Odin's Ravens, by K.L. Armstrong and M.A. Marr

These—or at least Loki's Wolves, I haven't read Odin's Ravens yet—are geared more middle-grade, but they're totally crossovers, so I'm including them. Despite being natural enemies, a descendant of Thor teams up with two descendants of Loki to roadtrip around South Dakota, looking for other young descendants of the gods in order to prevent Ragnarok. Understandably, Loki's Wolves gets cited as a Percy Jackson readalike pretty often, though it's worth mentioning that it doesn't have nearly as much humor as the Riordan books. While I found Matt's Must Protect Laurie Because She's A Girl mentality grating, it was in keeping with his personality and upbringing and worldview. (Less explicable was this line—He supposed if a girl that pretty was checking Baldwin out, the guy must be good-looking.—because, come on. Just because someone is straight doesn't mean that he is incapable of gauging whether or not another dude is conventionally attractive.)

There's lots of action, though, the full-page black-and-white illustrations complement the text well, and I loved how Armstrong and Marr incorporated historic spots (Deadwood) and other landmarks (Mount Rushmore). I'll be reading the second one at some point.

The Lost Sun, by Tessa Gratton

If this book hadn't been by Tessa Gratton, I'd have never picked it up due to the atrocious cover art. So here's hoping it gets redesigned at some point. (Oh, look, I got my wish. Still not great, and the model is either at a really weird angle or the image was created by just Photoshopping Matt Bomer's disembodied head onto someone else's shoulders, but it's an improvement over straight-up Skeet Ulrich. I think?-->)

Fans of Gratton's work—if you haven't discovered her yet, you're in for a treat—have probably already read this one. It's another roadtrip story, this one about a berserker and a prophetess searching for Baldur, who's gone missing. While the relationship dynamics and the family secrets are totally compelling, and while Gratton does a great job of integrating familiar myths but keeping the plotting unpredictable, for me, this one was all about the worldbuilding, which was FANTASTIC. I'm really looking forward to the sequel.

And that does it for the ones I've actually read! But there are so many more...

Starling and Descendant, by Lesley Livingston

A young fencing champion teams up with her new love interest, the Fennrys Wolf, and discovers that her family has ties to the Norse gods.

Black Helicopters, by Blythe Woolston

Despite having bought it ages ago, I'd been putting this one off because I'm a little bit afraid of it—I've heard that it's gut-wrenching—but no one told me that the faith system of the characters is based on Norse myths! So that, combined with my love of Catch & Release, means I'm bumping it waaaay up the TBR pile.

Stork, Frost, and Flock, by Wendy Delsol

This trilogy sounds pretty light-hearted, which is understandably unusual in books dealing with Norse mythology. A girl moves from LA to Minnesota and discovers that she's a 'stork': a woman who pairs unborn souls up with their mothers-to-be. Bonus: In addition to the Norse stuff, there's some Snow Queen action!

Runemarks and Runelight, by Joanne Harris
Sea of Trolls, Land of the Silver Apples, and Islands of the Blessed, by Nancy Farmer

I know, I know. I can't believe I haven't read these, either. I FEEL LIKE SUCH A FAILURE.

2014 Summer Reading.

Although winter is still a recent memory (for me, anyway!), summer reading lists are already starting to appear. Two have popped up in my feed so far:

• Horn Book: 2014 Summer Reading Recommendations. "Educationalists will tell you how important it is for children to keep reading throughout the long summer break lest their ever-evolving literacy skills erode. Fine. That does not, however, excuse the frequently dreadful list of recommended or — eep — required reading that schools shoot out as one last salvo of homework just as everybody is looking forward to a nice break."
• SLJ: Classics are Cool, But… | Summer Reading for Grades 9-12. "Summer Reading, summer snoozing–some teens can’t seem to tell the difference when it comes to a recommended list. The last thing many young adults want is someone telling them what to read, especially during vacation time. Entice your students with new, high-interest titles that are both literary and potential crowd pleasers."

10 Magic Books that Inspired Laura Lam's Shadowplay.

I invited Laura Lam here last year to talk a bit about the various inspirations behind Pantomime, and I'm so pleased to have her back to do the same with Shadowplay. Both books are part of a larger story about Micah Grey, runaway, aerialist, and now... MAGICIAN.

I've gone on and on and on about my love for Pantomime—I'm so pleased that it has a spot on this year's Cybils YA Speculative Fiction shortlist—so I was deliriously happy to finally get my hands on the sequel, Shadowplay. It picks up shortly after Pantomime left off, with Micah on the run and being hunted by not one, BUT TWO different groups, and it has the same blend of feels-like-fantasy-but-is-secretly-science-fiction, AMAZING worldbuilding, strong character development, a narrator with an original voice and perspective, but who is infinitely relatable, and Shadowplay is topped off by an extremely satisfying romantic arc! Like Pantomime, the storyline has threads of trust and family, identity and friendship and justice, and it's as satisfying intellectually as it is emotionally.

I can't wait for the next one.

And now, here's Laura!

I love lists, and really enjoyed coming up with a list for Bookshelves of Doom a few months ago about books that shaped my first book, Pantomime. I’m glad to be back to talk about books that helped shape the follow up, Shadowplay. For the first book, most of my research was on life in the circus and intersex history and issues. For the sequel, most of my research was on magic, illusion, and spiritualism. There’s a mix of fiction and non-fiction.

Hiding the Elephant, by Jim Steinmeyer.
I really enjoyed this book and it was probably the most useful for drafting Shadowplay. It's told in a conversational style and Steinmeyer explains how a lot of historic tricks worked. I learned how to describe the Pepper’s ghost that appears in Shadowplay from this book, and learned a lot about Robert-Houdin and Houdini, and many other lesser known magicians. Longer review here.

The Giant Taschen Book of Magic from 1400s-1950s.
This was my husband’s present to me when I got my book deal for Pantomime. It’s so huge that at the moment the only place I can store it is under my computer monitor, but I still take it out and look at it occasionally. It’s incredible, full of gorgeous colour plates and great essays (first in English, then French and German) as well as countless photos with captions in all three languages. Can’t recommend it enough. I write a longer review of it here.

Hocus Pocus, by Paul Kieve.
Aimed for younger readers, but it’s from the magician who worked on the set of Harry Potter and The Prisoner of Azkaban (when the map folds up on the table in the film, it was Paul Kieve underneath the table pulling the strings). It was a fun, quick read, and I’ll probably buy it for one of my nephews when they’re a little older. Longer review here.

The First Psychic, by Peter Lamont.
This is the biography of Daniel Dunglas Home, one of the most famous psychics in the Victorian era, who was never caught using any tricks, even though what he did seemed to be impossible. Very fascinating. Longer review here.

Writing the Other, by Nisi Shawl & Cynthia Ward.
I kept hearing about this short work about writing about the Other around the internet and read it. It was an excellent short work about diversity and the common pitfalls people can fall into when writing about people different to themselves, often unthinkingly. Definitely impacted certain aspects of Shadowplay, specifically regarding sexuality and race. I didn’t get around to writing a review of this one on my blog – though I should have done!

Carter Beats the Devil, by Glen David Gold.
My agent gave me this book as a present! It’s a fictional telling of Carter as a magician in San Francisco. Very detailed and beautifully written. I based Maske, the magician in Shadowplay, a bit on Carter mixed with Robert-Houdin.

The Prestige, by Christopher Priest.
I saw the film when it came out and it (and the Illusionist) were both great visual research. I read the book and loved it – thought it was fantastic. It sparked the idea for the magician duel I have in Shadowplay, though I take a very different focus. A few people have called Shadowplay a YA Prestige, which sort of fits, much like Pantomime was often compared to The Night Circus.

Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell, by Susanna Clarke.
I read this when it was hyped around its release. I did enjoy it, though wow, it’s a lengthy book! These are magicians more in the traditional magic sense versus illusion, but the delicate Victorian culture and such matches with Shadowplay as well, and I’m sure it had an effect on the book somewhere along the way.

The Tempest, by William Shakespeare.
I studied this at university and I think it had a large effect on Shadowplay. Maske could also be likened a little to Prospero – a man thrown out from his rightful profession unfairly, struggling for redemption. The Tempest is also quite dream-like, and many secrets are revealed in dreams in my book.

Harry Potter series, by J.K. Rowling.
I would be remiss not including the series I’ve read at least a dozen times as a teenager. I was a huge HP nerd – waited in line for the books at midnight, dressing up with my friends as witches and wizards, reading fan fiction, the works. I think the fact that this book has a trio could be linked back to the original trio I read so often as a teen – Harry, Hermione, and Ron. I also think Rowling’s rich approach to worldbuilding influenced me, as well as having little hints in earlier books that come to prominence in later installments.

So, those are some books that I’m sure had an influence, but I’m sure there’s more that have influenced me in ways I don’t realise. I enjoyed all then of these, so if you haven’t read ‘em, I recommend picking them up for a bit of magic.

Laura Lam is the author of Pantomime and Shadowplay, and can be found in various places online, including Facebook, Twitter, and at her website.

Previously:

Robin Wasserman's Eight Favorite Scary Small Towns.

April Lindner's Ten Favorite Retellings.

Sarah Beth Durst's Ten Favorite Atmospheric Reads.

Jonathan Stroud's Seven Favourite Swordsmen.

Cori McCarthy's Top Seven Traumatizing (In a Good Way) Reads.

Six of Gayle Forman's favorite Grow-Your-Comfort-Zone novels.

Classic Revenge Stories: Five books that led the way for Karen Finneyfrock's The Sweet Revenge of Celia Door.

Dianne K. Salerni's Seven Favorite Gothic Novels.

Beth Revis' Top Ten Modern YA Science Fiction novels.

Ten Books that Shaped Laura Lam's Pantomime.

Madness, Tortured Romance, and a Heck of a Lot of Castles: Megan Shepherd's Love Affair with Gothic Literature... or, Megan Shepherd's Eight Favorite Gothics.

Lauren Roedy Vaughn's Five Favorite Literary Adult Mentors... Plus Two Characters Who Need One.

Robin Wasserman's Eight Favorite Scary Small Towns.

There are a lot of ways that books can help you feel more connected to other people and to the world: you can recognize yourself in a character, you can relate to a situation, you can share an emotion. More rarely, an author can describe the world in such a way that you think, "OH. S/HE GETS IT."

I always get that feeling from Stephen King's descriptions of Maine: he captures the everyday weirdness of our culture without overdoing it, satirizing it, or caricaturing it the way that so many others do. I got that same feeling from Robin Wasserman's Ode to King, The Waking Dark, in a different, but almost more personal way: I felt like I was reading a story by someone who shared some of my deepest fears, but also some of my greatest hopes.

In The Waking Dark, it's regular people who are the monsters. But it's also regular people—through shining acts of bravery, selflessness, loyalty, kindness, hope—who bring about their own salvation.

It's an outstanding novel, and as in many of King's stories, the small-town setting plays a large part in it: random brutality is scary, sure, but it's terrifying when neighbor turns on neighbor, preacher on parishioner, husband on wife, father on son. Add to that a small-town setting that's inescapable—as someone who spent my childhood and teen years in a small town, let me tell you: sometimes they can seem inescapable on the best of days, even without armed soldiers guarding the town lines and former friends turning murderous—and you've got the perfect backdrop for a horror story that will give you chills even in broad daylight.

And now, I'll turn it over to Robin:

Maybe it’s because I grew up in the soulless suburbs, my adolescence spent shuffling between the multiplex and the mall with the occasional Baskin Robbins detour to spice things up, but I have always been fascinated by small towns. Cities, I understood. The city was field trips and special occasions, noise and traffic and Broadway shows. The city was My Future, the place I would escape to in that hazy someday when high school ended and I could finally live out the Rent/Fame/Desperately Seeking Susan life of my dreams. There was no mystery there. I knew (or at least, thought I knew) every detail of what that life would be.

Small towns, on the other hand? That was a mystery. That was a life I could barely imagine, because the small towns I knew best only existed in fiction…usually, the kind of fiction that came with vampires and carnies and evil clowns hiding behind every picturesque general store. I spent most of my teen years escaping into fictional worlds, retreating from the agonies of adolescence into scarier but more conquerable horrors. And the best of these horrors were almost always to be found in small towns, where friendly faces hid dark secrets, where innocence butted up against ancient sin. It’s no wonder that when I set out to write my own horror novel, I dreamed up Oleander, Kansas, full of cornfields, cheerleaders, ministers, meth dealers, and many, many secrets. People often ask me why I set The Waking Dark in a small Midwestern town, and I always tell them: Where else?

Here, in honor of its publication, are some of my all-time favorite scary small towns:

Derry, Maine – from Stephen King’s It
There are some King fans who swear by Castle Rock (setting for The Dead Zone, Cujo, The Dark Half, etc), but for me, it’s all about Derry. This small town in Maine has been home to massacres, fires, and lynchings, not to mention your run-of-the- mill “murder by evil, balloon-dispensing sewer creature”—probably because it’s the ancestral home of Pennywise the Clown, who you do not want to meet. Terrible, nightmarish things happen in Derry…and, most terrifying of all, no one in Derry much seems to care.

Jerusalem’s Lot, Maine – from Stephen King’s ‘Salem’s Lot
For the first half of the book, this town is nowhere near as terrifying as most of King’s settings. Sure, you wouldn’t want to live there, but you could probably stop by for a burger and shake without getting murdered. Then come the vampires.

Green Town, Illinois – from Ray Bradbury’s Something Wicked This Way Comes
Never, ever go to a traveling carnival...especially at 3 AM. That’s what I learned from this book. Also, if a guy covered in tattoos, some of which seem to be the faces of people you know, introduces himself as Mr. Dark, probably best to run home, hide under the bed, and wait until the wind blows the smell of cotton candy way out of town.

Somewhere near Monroeville, Iowa – from Daniel Kraus’s Scowler
I don’t exactly know where in Iowa Ry Burke’s farm is supposed to be (the story never leaves the bounds of its property), but I know I wouldn’t want to be stuck there. Especially not with a psychopathic father and three talking dolls, one of which seems to really like killing things. The most disturbing book I’ve read all year, and I mean that in the best possible way.

Wind Gap, Missouri – from Gillian Flynn’s Sharp Objects
Someone in this creepy little town is murdering young girls and stealing their teeth. Need I say more? (You may wonder what they’re doing with the teeth…and I promise, whatever you’re thinking? It’s even worse than that.)

Colleton, South Carolina – from Pat Conroy’s Prince of Tides
The thing that always gets me about this book (which, for some reason, I read over and over again when I was 17) is that, despite all the horrors visited on the narrator’s childhood, he can’t shake his enchantment with the island where he grew up. It’s in his DNA: “My wound is geography. It is also my anchorage, my port of call.”

Oelwein, Iowa – from Nick Reding’s Methland: The Death and Life of an American Small Town
Oelwein is a real town, and Methland is a real life horror story about how economic devastation and meth infestation have formed a cancer that’s metastasized across small town America. Oelwein comes to life as a place full of people struggling desperately to save their home from obsolescence and ruin. (Also, the book is an amazing read and one of the huge inspirations for The Waking Dark.)

Honorable mention to…

Twin Peaks
I know, I know, it’s a TV show. But it managed to scare the crap out of me when I was eleven years old and all these years later I’m still terrified. This is a town that contains the Black Lodge, Owl Cave, the Double R Diner, One Eyed Jack’s (supposedly across the border, but close enough), the Saw Mill, the Road House, and Bob. I’d say more, but I’m too freaked out to keep typing. Watch it for yourself.

Keep the lights on.

Previously:

April Lindner's Ten Favorite Retellings.

Sarah Beth Durst's Ten Favorite Atmospheric Reads.

Jonathan Stroud's Seven Favourite Swordsmen.

Cori McCarthy's Top Seven Traumatizing (In a Good Way) Reads.

Six of Gayle Forman's favorite Grow-Your-Comfort-Zone novels.

Classic Revenge Stories: Five books that led the way for Karen Finneyfrock's The Sweet Revenge of Celia Door.

Dianne K. Salerni's Seven Favorite Gothic Novels.

Beth Revis' Top Ten Modern YA Science Fiction novels.

Ten Books that Shaped Laura Lam's Pantomime.

Madness, Tortured Romance, and a Heck of a Lot of Castles: Megan Shepherd's Love Affair with Gothic Literature... or, Megan Shepherd's Eight Favorite Gothics.

Lauren Roedy Vaughn's Five Favorite Literary Adult Mentors... Plus Two Characters Who Need One.

The 2014 Canada Reads Top Ten List...

...has been released.

In case you missed it...

...PW has posted their Best Children's Books of 2013 lists.

Amazon has also posted their various lists, including one specifically for Teens & YA.

Also at Amazon: John Green, Markus Zusak, Rick Riordan, Veronica Roth, and Jeff Kinney list their faves of 2013. 

Here's another Teen list at The Bookbag. (<--This one is actually comprised of titles I haven't heard of, maybe because it's a UK site? I'm pretty on top of UK titles, though. I dunno.)

I'm sure there will be MANY. MORE. TO. COME.

(Feel free to recommend others in the comments!)