Hurrah! TMI was selected as one of the best books for readers ages 12-14 by the Bank Street College of Education. They review over 6,000 titles each year and select 600 for the list. What an honor to see my book alongside so many splendid titles.

Wh-hoo!

If you didn’t see my post about Carrie Ryan and her take on the writing process, it’s here. Carrie is indeed a wise woman, not to mention an amazing writer. Her first novel, The Forest of Hands and Teeth, came out last year and recently made the New York Times bestseller list. The companion book, The Dead-Tossed Waves, came out last month. Both books are set a couple hundred years in the future, after the zombie apocalypse. While millions roam the earth in an undead state, hungry to spread their infection to the living, the survivors have fenced themselves off and live in a constant state of fear. I don’t want to say anything else about the plot because it would be too easy to spoil all the surprises.

I’ll be honest: I’m not the sort of girl who enjoys scary books. I’ve never read anything by Stephen King, and I have no interest in most of the paranormal young adult novels that are wildly popular right now. So why did I pick up Carrie’s books?

The Forest of Hands and Teeth snagged me with the title. I mean, it’s a really good one, isn’t it? I just had to see what it was about. And even though I barely took a full breath while reading, I couldn’t put it down. I was completely hooked into this world of the living versus the undead and the main character’s struggle to survive.

I was worried that The Dead-Tossed Waves wouldn’t be as good; after all, it had an incredibly tough act to follow. It didn’t disappoint. In fact, I think I actually enjoyed it more. The main character faced more complicated dilemmas, and the tension was even thicker.

I’m already looking forward to Carrie’s third book, which will be out next year. I can’t wait for her to scare the pants off me again!

I first heard about Natalie Standiford’s debut novel, How to Say Goodbye in Robot, at a book signing for David Levithan. He was in town promoting his new novel, Love is the Higher Law (which is sitting in my to-be-read pile, screaming, “Pick me! Pick me!”). Someone asked David about the best books he’d read recently. His first pick was Robot, and then he sheepishly admitted that he’d edited it.

No need to be sheepish, David. You took on Standiford’s manuscript because you loved it. I’m sure I would do the same. I mean, whenever I take my daughter to the playground, I always secretly think that she’s by far the cutest kid there.

We’re all biased, right?

Biases aside, I knew I had to read this book. It’s the story of Beatrice, a.k.a. Robot Girl, who starts her senior year of high school at a new school in Baltimore. The popular girls offer friendship, and the cutest boy wants to date her, but Beatrice is more interested in hanging out with Jonah, a.k.a. Ghost Boy, a social outcast who enjoys late-night radio. Their relationship hovers in an area between friendship and romantic love, and Beatrice starts to feel her robotic armor peel away to make headway for real feelings.

I enjoyed so many aspects of this book, from Beatrice’s crazy, chicken-loving mother to the regular callers on the radio show. I got a kick out of the Baltimore references as well; my husband is from there, so I’ve done some time in that town, hon. How to Say Goobye in Robot is a book for anyone who has ever felt like an outsider. Haven’t we all felt that way at some point?

I have a major regret regarding Hold Still. I first heard about it a few months ago, but I was up to my neck in other good reading and figured I’d get to it eventually. Then in January, I had the opportunity to go out for brunch with a bunch of amazing Bay Area young adult authors. Nina LaCour was among them. We only spoke briefly, but if I’d known how incredible her book was, I would have read it beforehand so I could have talked to her about it. I’m hoping to have that chance in the future.

Hold Still is breathtaking.

It’s the story of Caitlin, a high school senior dealing with the suicide of her best friend, Ingrid. Now, you might be thinking, “Ooh, sounds a little too heavy duty for my taste.” But LaCour handles the entire issue with a grace that allowed me to sympathize with Caitlin while feeling like her grief was very much her own. As I read, I felt as if I were peeking through a window at Caitlin as she figured out how to manage her emotions. I was peeking over her shoulder as she read Ingrid’s journal. I was a witness, not a participant.

That’s not to say that I’m opposed to being sucked into the vortex of a character’s suffering. I was a Russian literature major, for crying out loud. I can handle the heavy stuff. At the same time, I stand in awe of any author who commands a heavy subject without making a book heavy-handed. And that’s exactly what Nina LaCour did in her debut novel.

Hats off to you, Nina. Let’s have brunch again.

We’ve all been there. One of our friends thrusts a hardcover into our hands and says, “You have to read this.” And you’re thinking, “Hmm, yeah, maybe.” I try not to be that friend, insisting that people read things just because I liked them. I’m very careful never to say, “Omigod, you’ve never seen [insert name of awesome movie here]?!” Like it’s a personal failing not to have seen that movie.

I don’t do that.

All that being said, I very strongly urge to read My Invented Life by Lauren Bjorkman. Note, I didn’t say you have to. I won’t be that pushy. But let’s say that by not reading it, you are seriously missing out.

Ah, how I loved this book. It’s the story of Roz and her sister, Eva, two very different girls trying to figure out who they are in a small California town. But it’s more than that. There’s Shakespeare, in the form of a school production of As You Like It and Bjorkman’s highly clever interpretations of many of the Bard’s best quotes. There are secrets. Who is gay? Who is straight? Who gets the guy? Who gets the girl? Bjorkman left me guessing right up to the end.

My Invented Life is written in such a fresh, funny voice that I often found myself envying Bjorkman’s talent and wit. It was a good kind of envy, though. The kind that inspires me to be a better writer. I could go on and on (and I’m sure you wouldn’t mind if I did, right, Lauren?), but the book really speaks for itself, so do yourself a huge favor today and pick up a copy.

I went to a book signing featuring five authors, and I couldn’t wait to rush home and read Allen Zadoff’s Food, Girls, and Other Things I Can’t Have first. Zadoff’s reading was so funny, and he spoke so candidly about his own struggles as an overweight teenager that I knew I’d love his book. I did. It’s the story of Andrew Zansky, the second heaviest kid at his school and the son of a caterer. Unlike most books that deal with weight issues, Food, Girls doesn’t focus much on how many pounds Andrew loses by the end of the story. Instead, Zadoff explores Andrew’s journey to find acceptance with his peers and, ultimately, with himself.

As I read Food, Girls, I kept thinking that this book was in many ways the brother companion to Carolyn Mackler’s The Earth, My Butt, and Other Big, Round Things. Notice the parallels in the kick-ass titles? Both main characters undergo physical transformations that end up being secondary to their mental shifts. Like Mackler, Zadoff’s message is sincere but never preachy and is summed up in one of my favorite quotes by India.Arie:

“No matter what anybody says, what matters most is what you think of yourself.”

With this debut novel, Struts & Frets, Jon Skovron joins an esteemed group of authors who have created characters that I totally crush on. Sammy Bojar is a boy with a guitar and a dream of making a living making music. I knew I was going to love this book when I cracked the spine and saw that the first chapter was titled “Idiots Rule,” which is also a Jane’s Addiction song. Skovron creates a playlist with his chapters, winding his way through the Pixies, Red Hot Chili Peppers, and ending with Soul Coughing’s “So Far I Have Not Found A Science” (still stuck in my head). I urge you to pick up this book, and then I dare you to put it down.

Sarah Ockler’s debut novel, Twenty Boy Summer, is nothing short of stunning. It’s the story of Anna and Frankie, best friends who spend a summer vacationing in California with Frankie’s parents. It’s been a year since Frankie’s brother, Matt, died, and Anna still hasn’t told anyone that she and Matt were secretly in love. Anna’s own grief is palpable and overwhelming, but she swallows it because, in some ways, she doesn’t feel entitled to mourn the loss of a boy who was never officially her boyfriend. Meanwhile, Frankie is determined to help Anna lose her virginity, and the two stage a contest to see who can be the first to kiss twenty boys before the vacation’s end.

Ockler’s exploration of grief in this novel is thoughtful and touching without being heavy-handed. Themes of love and loss are intertwined with her gorgeous writing. Every sentence shimmers. As I was reading, I kept thinking to myself, “How does she do it? How does she make every single sentence so beautiful?” I haven’t encountered many authors who can pull that off, but Ockler is one of them.

Sit up and take notice. Sarah Ockler is a YA star on the rise.

I first heard about this amazing author when I was writing TMI. My editor sent me notes on the first draft, and she recommended I check out Dairy Queen by Catherine Gilbert Murdock. D.J. Schwenk lives on a dairy farm in Wisconsin and dreams of playing football with the boys. She is the polar opposite of Becca in TMI. D.J. is as quiet and emotionally guarded as everyone else in her family, and her story is driven by the fact that so little talking is going on.

My editor was right: Dairy Queen was a shining example of the opposite of what I was trying to do. I thought of it often as I worked on my next draft of TMI, making Becca chattier and more candid. Murdock’s novel also helped me think about how quiet, guarded people might react to Becca’s personality.

Thanks for the inspiration!

I gobbled up Dairy Queen’s sequel, The Off Season, within days of its release. I was impressed by Murdock’s fairy tale, Princess Ben, which came out last year and shows her versatility as a writer (P.B. has a formal, Olde English style, quite a departure from D.J.’s voice). Murdock just published a third installment about D.J.’s life called Front and Center. I can’t wait to read it!

C. Lee McKenzie leads a double life. In her long, successful career as a teacher and university program director, she’s been known as Cheryl. Now that she’s a young adult author, she’s Lee. Some people can’t figure out what to call her, but I call her talented.

And this is what a talented author looks like. It’s one example, anyway.

In her debut novel, Sliding on the Edge, McKenzie alternates between two voices: 16-year-old Shawna and her grandmother, Kay. The characters meet for the first time at the beginning of the book, and they have to figure out how to live with each other.

The book is much more than an examination of generational differences, though. McKenzie dives headfirst into some sticky issues, most notably self-mutilation. Sliding on the Edge is not for the faint of heart, but such is the case with many worthwhile books.

P.S. The Seriously Fun TMI Giveaway ends in four days. Have you entered yet?