I read a lot of duds this year, but I have three favorites that I can recommend:

Water for Elephants by Sara Gruen

I wasn’t sure if I’d enjoy this because it seemed that everyone did, and I’m always skeptical of well-loved books because I’m a pessimist and weird like that. Suffice it to say that this is a thoroughly enjoyable book, and one that I would read again. (That’s usually my standard of measurement…whether I would buy the book (which I would, in this case) and whether I would read it multiple times (again, which I would). The narrator/protagonist is very likable, so that helps a lot. I’m really excited about the forthcoming movie and hoping it doesn’t ruin my fondness for the story too much.

The Road by Cormac McCarthy

I was so surprised by The Road. For a long time, I hesitated to read it because I wasn’t sure if I could handle it emotionally. I knew the story was bleak and raw, but my curiosity got the better of me since it’s a bestseller, winner of the Pulitzer Prize, etc. I’m so glad that I read this because I loved everything about it and it’s now one of my favorite books ever. After I read it, I watched the film adaptation and loved that as well. It was a rare instance where the film actually captures the spirit of the source material without compromising the story. (That gives me hope for the WfE film.) But if I had to choose between the two, of course I would say that the book is better.

Mockingjay by Suzanne Collins

The Hunger Games trilogy as a whole is amazing, so I had to include the final book on my list. I bought Mockingjay on the day it was released and read it almost non-stop, staying awake into the late hours of the night to finish. It isn’t perfect–there are some plot points that I didn’t like or agree with, but as an individual book, this one is a true page-turner for me. I was satisfied with the conclusion of the story (although, the greedy part of me wishes there could be more books in the series). As with WfE, there will be a film version of The Hunger Games trilogy, which is both exciting and unnerving because these books are so loved. But if you haven’t read the trilogy, I wholeheartedly recommend it.

For 2011, I’d like to read more books than I read this year, so I’m taking up Books on the Nightstand’s +11 in ’11 Challenge. This means that my goal will be to read 11 more books than I read this year, making 31 my target number. That’s totally doable.

A couple chapters in, I thought the book was going to be some big metaphor about religion, which (thankfully!) it wound up not being. Not in my interpretation, anyway. There are references to religion, but that’s not the overarching theme.

I think it’s fair to say that this is a book for the Twilight crowd that happens to involve zombies. However, I say that hesitantly, because Carrie Ryan is a much better writer than Stephenie Meyer. I’m going to try to give you an idea about this book without posting any real spoilers, which I’m sure will prove difficult.

There’s a love triangle that’s really more like a love rectangle, and it’s just frustrating for everyone involved. It was even more frustrating for me as a reader because some of the characters’ actions are just plain STUPID. The main character, Mary, is not an admirable character. She’s selfish to the point where she consistently puts herself and others in danger–REAL danger, as in life-or-death scenarios. I sympathized with her sense of loss and grief, but I didn’t find that to be a viable excuse to put so many others’ lives at risk. And then there’s the old “I have two guys in love with me, what do I dooooooo” plot device, which is really just played out, isn’t it? Isn’t it? (See: Twilight, The Hunger Games. Although, at least Katniss was a useful and–at times–likable character.)

From the perspective of someone who doesn’t love zombies and isn’t into gore either, the zombie content didn’t bother me very much. I think I do much better reading violence or gore than I do seeing it in movies, though. NOTE: On a whim, I just looked this title up on IMDB, and sure enough, a movie is in the works. OH GREAT. While the zombies work in the book, I have a feeling they’ll come across as cheesy and comical onscreen. But as lukewarm as I feel about the book, I’ll probably see the movie anyway, just you wait.

There’s a point in the middle of the story where things become Very Interesting Indeed. So much that I didn’t put the book down until I had finished it. There’s a very significant plot point that made me cry–totally unexpected! I didn’t think I cared enough about these characters to react that way, but I did. And then when the book ended, I felt really unsatisfied because I feel as though the author has manipulated my emotions into reading the sequel. Suffice it to say that the ending is rather ambiguous and I didn’t get the closure I wanted. I will read the sequel, but I’ve since started a book that’s not in this series in order to clear my head. I’ll pick up the sequel once my initial rage over the ending of this book wanes a bit.

On the surface, it seems there is very little happening, as far as plot goes. A man and his son travel through a barren wasteland that was once America. Throughout their travels, they encounter various people and situations that test their endurance, survival skills, and humanity. Ultimately, this story is a haunting one about the strength of the human spirit and the sustaining power of love. I’d say more, but I don’t want to spoil the plot in case you haven’t read it. It’s an emotionally exhausting story, to be sure; but it’s well worth it in the end. I highly, highly recommend this book. I think this is one of those stories with characters who will stay with me for a very long time.

The only gripe I have with the book is McCarthy’s unconventional writing style. He uses a lot of sentence fragments, which took me several pages to get used to. Also, sometimes he uses apostrophes and other times he doesn’t, so I wasn’t sure if there was a method to his madness in that regard. But these are very small complaints in the grand scheme of the novel. I quickly overlooked these little things because the book, as a whole, really is brilliant.

(Sidenote: I watched the film adaptation a few days after I finished the book. I didn’t think it was possible, but the movie captures the spirit of the story beautifully. This adaptation is a rare instance where the movie is almost as good as the book. I definitely recommend the movie, once you’ve read the book. Most of the beauty in this story comes from McCarthy’s prose; while the film incorporates it through voiceovers, it’s not quite the same experience as reading his words. Nevertheless, it’s still a very well-done adaptation.)

The graphic novel is illustrated by Hoang Nguyen, who is clearly talented and whose artwork truly brings the characters from Outlander to life. However, some of the illustrations were off base for me. I think Claire and Jamie look amazing, but at times they look a little too anime. Claire, in particular, has this problem; her proportions are wacky in some panels, with the focus on making her boobalicious rather than holding true to her depiction from the original story. I also thought that Jamie was a little TOO buff, if that’s possible; in her endnotes, Gabaldon mentions that her vision of Jamie is built more like a basketball player than a football player, and Nguyen’s interpretation of him comes across as slightly too…hmm…bodybuilder? to me. But it’s a small nitpick, since overall I think the essence of the characters has been captured.

The Exile only covers the first third of the narrative from Outlander, which makes sense since the story is quite long. I hope there will be more graphic novels, though, since I liked this one a lot. When I first heard they were making one, I had mixed feelings and wasn’t sure if I’d like it. I’m glad to say that I did and this one has sparked my interest in reading other graphic novels in the future.

I think I’ve had sufficient time to mull over my feelings about this book, so…keep reading to get on with the post already.

Short version: I really liked Mockingjay. I thought it did a good job of wrapping up the trilogy. I sped through it (read it in a day, setting what I think is a record for me for fastest reading time ever).

Long version: While I loved the book overall, there were some parts that felt kind of “off.” Toward the end, things felt rushed–I read a review on Goodreads that said Katniss “pulls a Bella Swan,” meaning that she basically wakes up to find that the conflict has been resolved, for the most part–the Capitol and Snow are taken and the war is over. I did feel like the whole book led up to the moment when she should have killed Snow, and then everything happened way too quickly? Or something. I kind of have mixed feelings about her killing Coin. I thought it was seriously jacked that Coin wanted to have “one final symbolic” Hunger Games (yeah right) and even weirder that Katniss voted yes (but I figured she was still grieving over Prim, so that was why she voted that way). I didn’t realize that Katniss was planning on getting rid of Coin and that’s why she voted the way she did. (After I finished the book, I went back and re-read the vote, and it’s clear that Katniss is plotting against Coin; I just didn’t catch it during my first read.) I also felt like Peeta’s recovery wasn’t as detailed as it could’ve been. How long was it between his choking Katniss to the final battle at the Capitol? He had some serious PTSD going on from the hijacking and I feel like it should’ve taken years for him to rehabilitate.

I was Team Peeta all the way, but it felt abrupt how Katniss let go of Gale so…easily? Quickly? And then Gale basically disappears in the end, except for the thing about him getting a fancy job in 2. He just drops out of Katniss’s life completely. And poor Prim…for a second, I didn’t realize that she was the girl with the braid, until we see Katniss’s reaction. So in the end, does Katniss never get to see her mother again? It seemed like that was part of her sentencing from her trial–that she would be sent back to 12 and not allowed to leave, or something?

Anyway, I really did love the book. Although Katniss and Peeta end up together, it’s not a conventional Happily Ever After–the entire book is so much bleaker than the other two. At least, it felt that way while I was reading. I’ve been reading other reviews and people say they didn’t connect with Katniss in this one–that as a character, she’s emotionally detached and acting on autopilot–but I still feel like I connected with and cared about her.

There was a moment toward the end when I thought maybe Suzanne Collins was going to kill off Katniss, but I’m really glad she didn’t. Katniss is a survivor, that’s for sure, and so is Peeta…so I was happy that they were able to take what was left of their world and continue living. They basically crawl out of the rubble and build a new life together. It’s bittersweet. I also had mixed feelings about the epilogue, but I find epilogues in general kind of ineffective. I think it’s the whole “And then…many years later” effect that I have trouble with. Sometimes, it’s better just to leave the ending where it is. But Collins had to give her characters real closure and I think she did a good job of it.

The Giver is incredibly moving. I didn’t know very much about the plot beforehand. The protagonist, Jonas, lives in a dystopian society in which its residents suffer from “Sameness,” a way of life so streamlined and seemingly perfect that it’s just a matter of time before Jonas begins to question the world in which he lives. I won’t say anything further in case you haven’t read the book, but I found the second half quite exciting, especially the final chapters, which were riveting. However, I felt that the book ended somewhat abruptly; it was over too soon, and I didn’t quite get the closure that I expected I would about certain characters. That being said, there is an ambiguous quality to the ending that I rather like.

Footnote: Having read the book, I think it’s really strange that The Giver has been on so many challenged and banned book lists. There are plenty of opportunities for worthwhile discussion to be found in this book.

I was 18 when the Columbine massacre happened in April 1999. I remember seeing the images on the news: high school kids running out of the school, falling out of windows, milling around outside in grief. And of course, the photos of the two boys who were identified as the killers, Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold. Then came the media onslaught: theories, rumors, erroneous reports, and speculation. Everyone wanted someone to blame. It wouldn’t do to blame only the killers, who had committed suicide at the end of their gun-fueled rampage. For months after, and even now–years later–it’s still not quite clear what turned the two boys into killers.

There are plenty of theories, to be sure, and Cullen’s book attempts to narrow them down. It almost seems like a pointless exercise, after the fact–to examine the boys’ childhoods and journal entries and attempt to read between the lines, to try to understand more, beyond their violent tirades and (at times) nonsensical words. But in an age of media oversaturation, and the fact that Columbine had been probably the most widely televised school shooting to date, it seems reasonable for us to seek answers, to try to placate the most nagging of questions–”Why?”

I don’t think this book glorifies the killers in any way. Rather, it seeks to set the record straight, to dispel myths surrounding the tragedy, to clarify who the victims were (and who they were not), and also, to try to understand how two teenage boys could lash out at their classmates and teachers in such a violent, irreversible way.

It’s been 11 years since the Columbine tragedy. Although it permeated the media when it happened, over time, news stories faded and eventually diminished. There are exceptions, such as the anniversary of the shootings (April 20), when perhaps a news blurb flashes across the TV screen, reminding us what happened years ago. But I think of the families and friends of those who died that day–all of them, the victims and even the killers–and I can’t imagine what they have to live with every day. For them, more than for any of us, the unanswered questions will always be there. Unlike us, they cannot simply close the book, ponder it for a while, and then move on. The memories and impact of that day will stay with them for the rest of their lives.

The thing is, it doesn’t start out confusing; in fact, the first chapter drew me in. However, I began the book with the awareness that it’s about three pairs of people whose storylines ultimately converge in some way. So, I read every subsequent chapter trying to figure out how everything and everyone could be linked.

Maybe that was an exercise in futility, because the final third or so of the book is when the plotlines become very crossed and very confusing. In fact, the resolution of the story is ambiguous in many ways and that was frustrating.

As for the quality of the writing, I don’t have any complaints. I think Chaon is a good writer, but the twists and turns of the narrative distracted me from being able to appreciate the writing itself. I would read this author again, but I won’t be re-reading this particular title.

I first heard about it on the Books on the Nightstand podcast. The novel starts with an interesting premise: Paul’s wife, Lexy, has died unexpectedly. The only witness to her death was their dog, Lorelei. In a desperate effort to understand what happened to Lexy, Paul (a linguist) decides that he’s going to try to teach Lorelei how to talk.

That’s a general overview of the plot, but the book is so much more than this. It’s exquisitely written–I found myself pausing to re-read a sentence or paragraph not for clarity, but in order to relish the beauty of the words. To illustrate (this is from one of the early chapters, so there are no spoilers here):

The day was warm, and we drove with the windows open. Breeze on my arms as I drove. Savor it now, the day, the breeze. Run the memory of it over your tongue. Speak it aloud; there’s no one listening. Say “sun” and “hot” and “day.” Close your eyes and remember the moment, the warm pink life of it. Lexy’s body in the seat next to mine. Her voice filling the car. Let it wash over you. It ends soon enough.

I’ll stop here, only to say that I highly recommend this book. I loved everything about it, to the point where it moved me to tears. Of course, the fact that one of the main characters is a dog probably had something to do with that since I have quite a weakness for dogs. But beyond this, it’s a haunting tale of love, loss, and memory; one that I think will stay with me for a long time.

Well…hate is a strong word, but appropriate in this case. I just didn’t enjoy reading this. As I did, my reaction to the story would ebb and flow: at times the story was interesting (therefore, I kept reading) and other times it would get really, really boring (and I would question why I didn’t just give up on this). I guess I could have stopped reading it, but by the time I thought about it, I figured I was past the point of no return–I was about halfway done at that point–so I stuck with it, hoping the end would be satisfying. Nope. No cigar.

To be specific, the main things I disliked (other than the plot) were the timeline and the characters themselves. The story takes place in a short amount of time, but it jumps around quite a bit; I had to re-orient myself because it wasn’t always clear that we were in a flashback. As for the characters, the teenage boys didn’t have very realistic voices. They said “yo” a lot and talked about girls and sex, but at times their dialogue sounded nothing like real teenagers. That was distracting. Lastly, I didn’t sympathize with the characters. I thought the protagonist/sometimes narrator Tim was interesting, but he didn’t redeem the novel for me. That’s another thing I didn’t like–the narrative shifted between first person point of view in the form of journal entries, to third person omniscient, then back to first person. Again, just distracting for me.

I was going to summarize the plot, but you know…suffice it to say that the plot was disjointed and wrapped up in a very contrived way. I was ready for a creepy, possibly supernatural story, but this one really disappointed me, so I can’t recommend it. The funny thing is, both Stephen King and Neil Gaiman loved the book, which is what had peaked my interest in it to begin with. Different strokes…