The Merlin Conspiracy by Diana Wynne Jones

Roddy Hyde lives in an alternative world called Blest. It's much like the UK, the road are terrible and there's no trains, but it's a slightly different shape. Oh, and magic exists. Which is fine, until the wrong people begin to manipulate it and Roddy and her small sidekick Grundo are the only ones to notice. As the magic of Blest begins to unravel and their loved ones start disappearing, Roddy and Grundo are forced to call in some help.

Nick Mallory is stuck on plain old earth but is desperate to escape and explore other worlds. After all that longing, when he's suddenly whisked away it feels like a dream. Within a few hours it turns nightmarish as he's threatened by a hugely powerful wizard, stalked by a Panther, chased by police and bothered by a starving goat. 

Then Nick meets Roddy. Which is good because she's a bit of a looker, but bad because she wants him to help her save Blest. Having hoped for some more experienced help, Roddy resigns herself to working alongside Nick. It would just really help matters if Nick could just work out how to get to Blest...

Diana Wynne Jones is such a talented storyteller that she immerses you in these alternative worlds from the word go. Nick and Roddy's monologues are distinct, but are woven together effortlessly as The Merlin Conspiracy progresses. It's a long novel for a children's book, but there's enough action to keep a keen reader enthralled. The main characters are cleverly drawn with authentic voices. They don't always get on, but they're not constantly at each others throats. It felt real to me, with the gentle tension of a long family holiday. It's just one of the ways in which Diana Wynne Jones' ambling pace pays off.

Nick, Roddy and their unlikely band of followers have a hard task ahead of them in saving Blest, with only a small handful of adults to help them. With good on their side, and The Merlin Conspiracy being a children's book, the reader has a sneaky suspicion that they'll succeed. Diana Wynne Jones skilfully keeps the suspense alive, despite avoiding the temptation to throw in the multiple, sudden plot changes of a Sophie McKenzie novel. The intelligently elaborate plot will charm adult and children magicians alike.

The Knife That Killed Me by Anthony McGowan

'The knife that killed me wasn't a special knife at all. It didn't have any runes on it. It's handle wasn't made of ivory or rhino horn, but cheap black plastic. It was a kitchen knife from Woolworths, and it's blade wobbled like a loose tooth. But it did the job'.

Paul Vanderman never set out to carry a knife. It doesn't suit him at all. But when the school tyrant Roth plucks him from anonymity and commands him to pocket one, Paul is unable to refuse. Roth's hypnotic influence over the entire school drags them all into an all out war with the neighbouring school, Temple Moor. In a world where adults are either absent or powerless, any resistance to Roth is going to have to come from a fellow pupil.

Step up, Shane. King of the alternative kids, Shane is a refreshing leader. Self-possessive and calm, he does his best to repair the damage Roth causes to the school. But his friendship isn't enough to save Paul from Roth's dark attraction. And when Shane is hospitalised it seems there's nothing to stop events hurtling towards Paul's apparent death in a knife fight.

I read this book with a teen book group. They're aged 13 and I was initially worried about their reactions to the knife scenes. Roth is a nasty piece of work and Anthony McGowan describes his twisted behaviour in graphic detail. The humiliations he dreams up for his enemies are downright horrific. Paul describes these with a helpless horror, compounding the sense that the events of the book have been predetermined.

Adults are noticeably either absent or useless in The Knife That Killed Me. Paul's parents barely surface from the TV and the teachers in the novel are either pathetic or terrifying. It's a bleak depiction of school life from Anthony McGowan. Hope is offered by Shane, and the well-meaning teacher Mr Boyle, but they can't combat Paul's secret fear that Roth's aggression lives on in himself.

Despite the building tension, The Knife That Killed Me seemed to falter at the very last hurdle- the ending. The general consensus from the teens was that it was cheesy and an anti-climax. It just didn't seem to sit with the rest of the book which, aside from the passages looking ahead to Paul's death, had been straightforward and authentic. Nevertheless, an intelligent and gripping drama on a topic that is too often ignored in fiction.

Magic Under Glass by Jaclyn Dolamore

A confident and talented music hall performer, Nimira is tied of being billed as an exotic sideshow. She didn't travel hundreds of miles from her eastern home to wind up singing for next to nothing.

So when powerful sorcerer, Hollin Parry offers her a better wage and a bigger stage, how can she say no? Nimira has been chosen to duet with a musical automaton, a robot with impeccable piano skills, and is taken back to Parry's mansion to practice.

But is Nimira really better off in Parry's care? Strange noises from the attic, macabre fairy specimens and rumours of impending war keep Nimira from being able to relax in her new home.

That is, until she discovers a friend in the shape of a cursed fairy stuck in the body of the automaton. Determined to bring the automaton back to life, Nimira begins to uncover Parry's secrets and quickly becomes tangled in a secret world of sabotage and deathly magic.

Jaclyn Dolamore's tale felt like a breath of fresh air in many ways. Nimira's voice is clear and consistent. Sometimes she's strong, sometimes she collapses in tears. As much as I love the confident, strong and physical characters so popular in Young Adult fiction right now, I think it's really important to have a wide variety of characters for readers to identify with. Do you agree, or do you cringe when protagonists appear vulnerable?

The truth is, Nimira lives in a world in which she's officially powerless as a female. Although Parry sweeps her away from the leering men of the music hall, as a lone young girl, she still depends on male approval for survival. To gain any kind of autonomy in the old fashioned world portrayed here, she has to display strength. But unlike the Katnisses or Beatrices of this world, Nimira's strength lies in persuasion, integrity and kindness, rather than physical skill or agility.

Magic Under Glass has been billed as a romance but I think Nimira and Erris's relationship is more complex than that. There's is not a simple case of boy meets girl, and although it was touching to see their physical connection grow- all their interactions are coloured by the limitations of Erris' automaton body.

So whilst I'm more swayed by adrenaline filled thrillers like Throne of Glass and Divergent, I think there's definitely an audience for this quirky and charming tale.

Divergent by Veronica Roth

Imagine a world without war. Sounds great, right? 

For 16-year-old Beatrice, peace has come at a price. Her world is divided into factions, each of which prioritises a different human characteristic. Beatrice and her family live in the Abnegation faction where all members are expected to act selflessly at all times. Beatrice's problem? She's human.

Exhausted from constantly suppressing her individuality and self-interest, Beatrice approaches the traditional choosing ceremony. As they reach adulthood, teenagers are required to pick the faction that they belong in. This faction is where they will remain all their lives. No pressure then.

Beatrice faces a decision which is often mirrored in adolescence on a slightly less intense scale. Does she love herself more than her family? Can she bear to leave them in order to be free to be herself? And if so, for which faction?

This novel struck me as authentic, thrilling and touching. It was easy to empathise with Beatrice as she struggles to first know herself, and then prove her worth in an unfriendly world. She goes through a huge amount of trauma in the novel, coming out physically and emotionally changed. But these challenges only strengthen her individuality, and it's fascinating to watch her grow.

The action scenes were nail-biting and believable and all the characters, evil and good alike, had human faults. Veronica Roth doesn't shy from portraying the worst of human nature - but there are also moments of humour, friendship and hope. Best of all - it features a tension-filled romance without making this the focus of the novel. 

Blood Red Road by Moira Young

Beside a dried up lake in a futuristic, dusty world live a family of four. A bitter father, withdrawn since the loss of his wife, two grown twins, Saba and Lugh, and the lively nine year old Emmi scrape out an existence. With their father still immersed in grief, losing his head in the distant stars, Saba and Lugh are forced to battle the desert conditions to keep the family alive.

In their eighteen year, the restless Lugh begins to dream of leaving the dead-end farm. When their father is shot dead trying to stop a mysterious gang from capturing Lugh, Saba vows to track them and rescue her twin brother at all costs. Accustomed to following Lugh like a shadow and distrustful of others, Saba is determined to find him alone. Despite her lack of social graces, Saba's knack for picking up friends means that she unwittingly becomes the leader of a rebellion.

For a petulant king rules this world with a vice-like grip. Previously unchallenged, he crushes resistance with a steady supply of a sedative-like drug and the blood-thirsty spectacle of cage fighting. Fixated with the need to find her brother, Saba couldn't care less about the King. That is, until he gets in the way of her search. And though he might not know it yet, Saba is not the type of woman he should get in the way of.

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I'm sure it's not just being in the U.S this week that's making me draw comparisons between this YA action-packed novel and the Western genre. The dry, arid setting, horses, the theme of leaving a homestead, duels with 'shooters' and puffed-up gang-like leaders with hired lackeys. It's a quality which differentiates the book from the ever-present 'Hunger Games', which it's often compared to. Like many apocalyptic stories, the futuristic setting resembles more closely an older world to that we live in. The lack of modern convenience and communication in Saba's world has made her grow self-sufficient and tough-both qualities popular to young adult fiction. The author's also created a landscape which lends itself really well to an old-fashioned adventure, with hugh rocks, sandstorms, mountains and flash floods.

Saba is an opinionated protagonist with a big personality and a strong will. The characters and events she's thrown amongst during the course of this tale force her to question her opinions and actions, but the author doesn't spend a great chuck of prose on these revelations. Instead the change in Saba is shown by the way she responds to the various challenges she's faced with. Without the stalwart support of her twin brother, she ends up initiating new friendships, slowly opening herself up to the idea of relying on others. So there's a fair bit of character development going on here and Lugh's absence in the story is central to this. Whilst I can see the motivation for this, I couldn't help thinking that story could have been richer and fuller if it had also been told from Lugh's point of view.

My only other bug-bear was the style of writing. The lack of punctuation left me confused as to who was speaking and I was baffled by Saba's intermittent italicsised monologues. The kooky spelling and childish grammar means that Saba's voice is distinct and strong, but it felt a little twee at times.

That being said, the prominence of this style faded as I got pulled deeper into the story, and the self-conscious poetic element of the first few chapters was replaced by drawn-out action and suspense-filled chapter endings. I was also captivated by the sexual underpinings of Saba's interactions with a wandering rebel named Jack and the dark, brooding guard to the king, DeMalo. Moira Young recreates perfectly the insecurity, excitement and fear involved in an adolescent crush. It's fairly clear from the book's end that Young has written this with a sequel (if not a trilogy) in mind. Whilst this means that the ending can't truly be described as satisfying, I can comfort myself with the fact that Saba's likely to turn up again soon.

Fever Crumb by Philip Reeve‏

Fever Crumb has been born into a futuristic world still reeling from the overthrow of the ruling Scrivens (or 'homo superior' as they like to term themselves).

This is London; but not as you know it. Commuters carry Oyster shells, instead of cards, and travel by wind tram or sudan chair. What we call modern society was destroyed by a dark period referred to as the ‘downsizing’; hence most of outer London consists of empty buildings and overgrown, useless roads. Technological advances such as flight and electricity have been lost and anyone with an interest in science is considered odd. The violence of Scriven rule is still fresh in the minds of Londoners and the city is buzzing with distrust and mutiny.

A small corner of reason remains in an abandoned monument. In a head constructed to represent the former Scriven king Auric Godshank, a band of engineers reside. Protected from the mayhem of the city they quietly beaver away at their experiments, rejecting any form of emotion as a distraction. An anomaly in a society of men, Fever Crumb was found abandoned as a baby and subsequently raised by a kind engineer named Dr Crumb.

Having been brought up in a reasonable manner, the young Fever Crumb reacts calmly when she is required to leave the engineers to assist the kooky archaeologist Kit Solvent. Solvent's rag-tag children and quirky ways baffle Fever Crumb. But that's nothing compared to the bizarre illusions Solvent's work seems to evoke in her. She's left frightened by her reaction to a visit to Godshank's former residence:

"Try the door,' said Kit, and held his lantern up to light the lock.

Weird feelings of déjà visité flooded through Fever. Memories of yesterday mingled with memories of other yesterdays which could not possibly be her own. Pain was beating again at the base of her skull. She began to wonder if she were still inside her dream. If she climbed the stairs again and went outside would there be lights in the unbroken windows of Nonesuch House?"

The city grows more and more restless as Fever begins to question her own sanity. Soon her piercing odd eyes and unusual manner evoke aggressive suspicion from Londoners. 'What are you?' is the constant refrain that Fever herself cannot answer. Why does she appear to have memories that she doesn't own? What is Kit Solvent hiding from her? And can he keep her safe from the unruly and angry crowds?

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This was my first Philip Reeve read, but I’m certain it won’t be my last. I really admire his ability to create such quirky, intriguing scenarios and characters. He plays with your familiarity of London with places names such as ‘Hampster Heath’, ‘B@ersea’, and ‘Eefrow’ and hints at religious legends involving the worship of prophets such as ‘some old-world prophet, ‘Hari, Hari! Hari Potter!’Such details make up part of the intricate world that Reeve has created. Reeve shows a delightful interest in building the world of this Mortal Engines series, layer by realistic layer. Without having to take in much detail, as the novel plays out you naturally absorb a sense of the workings of the setting.

Fever Crumb, Dr Crumb and Kit Solent are all fresh, likeable and fleshy characters with believable quirks and motivations. The dialogue moves the plot along and also provides countless moments of humour. I especially loved how the pantomime-like villain Ted Swiney was drawn:

"Ted Swiney suddenly reached across the bar and lifted him up by his coat collar. His amiable act had ended. He growled softly into Charley’s ear. ‘Anything the old cloot finds, I want to hear about it. You understand?’

Charley nodded eagerly, and Ted dumped him on the floor, grinning round at his customers to show he’d just been having a bit of harmless fun with the boy. His smiling cheeks were red and round as two wax apples. He leaned over the bar to straighten Charley’s coat and pat his hair flat. ‘Now hop along. Don’t keep Master Creech waiting."

Clearly a lover of language, Reeve has created for characters such as ted Swiney a winsome fusion between cockney and 21st century text-speak. In short, this is a multifaceted, fast-paced, charming novel that has plenty to tempt older readers, young adults and the young-at-heart.

The Little White Horse by Elizabeth Goudge

13-year-old Maria Merryweather has an uncanny knack for making friends. Almost everyone she meets in this old-fashioned tale falls for her frank and cheerful nature and boundless energy. Uprooted from her luxurious London home after her father's death, Maria, her governess and their pampered pooch are forced to seek refuge with her strange, distant relative Sir Benjamin Merryweather on the windbeaten coast of the West Country. Despite her faults (she's headstrong, argumentative and vain), Maria's charm soon sees her surrounded by a protective circle of adult and animal guardians. It's well she is, as the magical residence of Moonacre is not as idyllic as it first appears.

Maria soon begins to unweave the secrets of Sir Benjamin Merryweather's picturesque residence. But the facts of the past still evade her. How did her childhood friend Robin come to be here? Who was the mysterious woman that last slept in her room and rode her horse? Who are the dark men that stalk the nearby wood and deny the village access to the sea?

Published in 1946 and set in 1842, The Little White Horse merges legend, magic and adventure with old-fashioned morals and lashing of afternoon tea. The folklore influence and the inclusion of eccentric characters such as the ferocious chef Marmaduke and his all knowing, literate cat Zachariah, add to the offbeat feel of the book. Despite this originality, Elizabeth Goudge‏'s description of the landscape, the village and Maria's interactions with her beloved friends come across as a trifle twee. The benevolent Old Parson springs to mind, instated in his picture-perfect cottage, tending lovingly to his flock. Helpfully, after each Sunday service the Vicar stands at the door of the church ready to reveal and reprimand each villager's sins. It's hard to tell how a 1940's child would read this but it struck me as overtly sanctimonious and judgmental.

 Despite Maria's strong influence over the residents of Moonacre, she's often scolded for not acting as submissive as her gender dictates. It's incredibly frustrating to read! Seen through a modern day lens, Maria's childish brand of feminism grates - especially as she's considered old enough to marry. The implication seems to be that girls, women and brides should be suspended in a state of ignorant innocence. The Old Parson vehemently enforces this view whilst holding Maria in a 'grip of steel'. He advises, 'excessive female curiosity is not to be commended either. Nip it in the bud, my dear, while there is time.' Whilst it could be argued that Elizabeth Goudge‏ is accurately representing 1800 opinions, this view of femininity is repeated often enough as to be deliberate.

That all being said, Maria is ultimately a decisive, outgoing character. Her natural curiosity, sense of humour and passionate temper keep her from coming across as sanctimonious. In The Little White Horse Elizabeth Goudge has created a beguiling set of characters, and set them in a charming, idyllic English countryside with an intriguing and magical plot.

Fly By Night by Frances Hardinge

'Words were dangerous when loosed. They were more powerful than cannon and more unpredictable than storms. They could turn men's heads inside out and warp their destinies. They could pick up kingdoms and shake them until they rattled. And this was a good thing, a wonderful thing...'

Frances Hardinge's debut novel draws us into a dark, eighteenth century inspired society rife with highwaymen, rival royals, thieves, and one very aggressive goose. Amongst all this pandemonium lies a plucky young girl named Mosca Mye. Unlike the majority of her female peers, Mosca was taught to read by her father before he died. Now 12 years old and fiercely independent, Mosca is determined to leave her callous Aunt and Uncle and the damp, claustrophobic village in which they live. Having been mesmerised by the verbal dexterity of a travelling storyteller and conman named Eponymous Clent, Mosca rescues Clent from the clutches of the local magistrate and together they flee the village.

It's the beginning of an unlikely partnership, based more on the desire to keep alive than out of loyalty. Mosca's decision to hedge her bets with Clent, despite being aware of his slippery tongue and nature, shows her willingness to disregard social expectations in the pursuit of knowledge. Her love and respect for books is matched only by her affinity to Saracen, the goose that aided her escape from the village. Mosca senses the force of words and knowledge, and she thirsts after the power and freedom that they offer. What Mosca doesn't anticipate is the far-reaching consequences of her search. Together, Mosca and Clent tumble through a madcap series of events, eventually coming to the attention of the very highest, powerful members of their society. 

The plot winds unexpectedly, as does Mosca's loyalty and trust of those she meets. As a reader, this kept me constantly on my toes. Hardinge refuses to install any sort of absolutes in the novel, other than that of the desirability of free speech and education. This makes Fly By Night a refreshing intelligent, multifaceted young adult novel. There's a fair bit of humour to be found in her writing too, much of which is caused by her penchant for kooky names. She pokes fun at religious rites with her description of devout offerings: 

'They were passing a cluster of shrines. As she watched, a troop of grateful citizens trooped past the shrines, dropping different thanksgiving offerings before each icon. A biscuit for Goodman Blackwhistle. A mackerel for Goodman Sussuratch. A shiny coin for Goodman Greyglory.' 

Far from just religious-bashing however, Hardinge also intelligently dissects power, greed and the desire to crush dissent in politics, trade unions, and the royalty. This is a true gem of a book. Read it!

Moonfleet: A classic tale of smuggling, based on the novel by J.M Falkner (Usborne Young Readers series)

This dark tale explores the 18th century world of Britain's seaside smugglers. Adapted to form a chapter book for young readers, the book is illustrated with charming pencil sketches by Alan Marks. I don't make a habit of reading chapter books as they fall into that middle ground between easy-to-read picture books and all-too-easy-to-love young adult fiction. But something about the whimsical title and the muted style of this cover caught my eye.

The story features the young John Trenchard and describes his foray into the secret world of smuggling. Whilst not naturally crooked, circumstances contrive to lead John into a life of crime and he is soon forced to take to sea to avoid capture.

I can remember as a child being spellbound by the incredible tales set around the sea, like the famous five's smuggling adventure and that Swallows and Amazons where the children sailed out to sea by mistake. It was as if there was something about the incessant pull of the sea that attracted adventure. For a landlocked child, the sea will always represent freedom and the danger it presents only increases its appeal.

Rob Lloyd Jones has made Moonfleet accessible without attempting to update the tale. By staying true to the original the book retains an air of archaic charm, gently drawing the reader in to that period. There's enough intrigue, crime and danger to spark the interest of even reluctant young readers, although the strong moral running through the tale could offset this. Against the strong plot, the young narrator fades away somewhat, probably due to his indistinct personality and unquestioning acceptance of the bizarre situations he finds himself in. To be fair, the age of the intended audience does explain the simplification of John's character but even so, his actions and thoughts sometimes came across as wooden and illogical. This is nothing compared to the one-dimensional representation of his love interest, the ever-patient and forgiving Grace, who is barely able to speak for herself at all.

Although this tale does have charm, I thought the narrative style could have been much more engaging and the dialogue more natural. However, the illustration style felt refreshing - perhaps because I'm new to the age range - but I felt that the sketches made for intriguing character representations with hazy, hard-to-read expressions.  I'm sure the smuggling theme would hold appeal for young readers and there are twists and turns enough keep competent readers interested.

StoryCloud: The Hoopoe Bird by Emma King and Ross Collins

Illustration by Ross Collins

 Browsing through the Discover Children's Centre website tonight I happened upon the StoryCloud project, an online interactive library created especially for the London Festival 2012.

Here's the site's description: 

StoryCloud is an online story library featuring twelve brand new exclusive stories from award winning and up-and-coming authors and children. Each story is accompanied by a brilliant illustration. A new story will be released each Monday of the Cultural Olympiad until 3 September. The ninth story is now live, The Hoopoe Bird by Emma King and illustrated by Ross Collins.

The Hoopoe Bird is a simple little tale about a cruel magician and an exotic bird that he holds captive. Caught by the magician after a bold rescue mission during which some half-starved dolls are set free, the Hoopoe is chosen to star in the magician's performance show. But the Hoopoe bird has other ideas, and refuses to sing. What follows is a battle of wills between the man and bird.

It's a short and to-the-point tale with few major twist or turns and a strong overall moral. But what really sets this story about is its method of telling.

The story comes to life in the mouths of the fantastic child narrators on the available audio track. They bring warmth and depth to the tale with their tone and timing, and humour through the emphasis on words like 'dark' in the opening line, 'there was once a evil magician who did dark magic.' Whilst the style and tone of their delivery mimics traditional storytelling, the simplicity of the story kept the experience fresh.

I say they because I found it difficult to tell how many different voices I was hearing. There's something automated about the audio production that echoes the text-to-speech Kindle voice, and it certainly sounds like the recording has been heavily edited.

But there was still something about the actual process of being read to that really captivated me. It reminded me of Dr Jane Davis' essay 'The Reading Revolution' in the Stop What You're Going and Read This Vintage collection, where she describes The Reader Organisation's Get Into Reading programme as a 'read-aloud' group. In this essay, Davis describes how magical the process of reading literature aloud can be. She recalls being unexpectedly handed an emotive poem to read in a meeting, 'John had handed me some sad powerful magic, and I'd set it off by reading it aloud, a sort of spell.' It's a beautiful way of pointing out what we lose when we stop being read to as children. 

The Get Into Reading read-aloud groups are primarily focused on bringing the restorative aspect of communal reading to children, the elderly, youth groups, office workers, the mentally ill and many more. (You can find out more here: http://thereader.org.uk/get-into-reading/) 

My Sister Lives on the Mantelpiece by Annabel Pitcher

Jamie's older sister Rose haunts the family from the mantelpiece in this hard-hitting children's novel. She lives there. She's spoken to, she's offered food and she even manages to buy her family gifts. But Rose is dead. In fact, she was killed in a terrorist attack 5 years previously and Jamie can barely remember her - let alone cry for her. In contrast, Jamie's parents' inability to let her go eventually tears the family apart. Mum walks out, Dad drinks to forget and Jamie and Rose's remaining twin Jasmine are left desperately trying to patch their lives back together.

My Sister Lives on the Mantelpiece is an honest and unsentimental portrayal of an imperfect family struggling to come to terms with the death of a child. It's telling that this children's book feels more authentic than the majority of popular adult 'tragic lit' titles (or whatever Waterstones are labelling them as this year). Far from featuring stock, dependable adult characters, in Pitcher's world grief has made children out of the adults and adults of the children.

Jamie is an unselfconscious narrator and he paints a brutally clear picture of the children's neglected state. The faith that he relentlessly places in his mother could distress some adult readers. But the success of this book suggests that children respond well to such a honest representation of a dysfunctional family. And why shouldn't they? Children are on the whole much more honest than adults. And their response to death is usually way more pragmatic than an adult's. In short, Jamie's parents could stand to learn a lot from him.

The book has its sweet moments as Jamie interacts with his sister and his only friend Sunya, (a friendship that Jamie's Dad would definitely NOT approve of). It's clear early on that his chance for happiness rests on these two young pairs of shoulders. I was a little disappointed that the author has made both of the only 2 nurturing/supportive figures in the novel female. I suppose it just felt predictable, especially as the school bully was male, for the parenting void in his live to be filled by two females.

Also the romantic aspect of Jamie and Sunya's relationship didn't really ring true for me. His infatuation seemed to devalue their friendship in the way that it served as a convenient motivation for his continued resistance to his Dad's tyranny. It would have been way cooler if Sunya's personality (which did rock) was the main instigator for Jamie's loyalty rather than an attraction which seemed to border on a fetishness for Sunya's cultural differences. It felt like the crush had been added mainly for the benefit of the adult cute factor and removing it could have opened up the book to more young male readers.

Those issue aside there's a lot to like about this book. I always like books that hand the reins to kids in difficult situations and I really value the honesty surrounding this difficult topic. It's also a pretty funny read too. 3/5 stars.
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Guantanamo Boy by Anna Perera

"Welcome to Guantanamo Bay Prison. You're now the property of the US Marine Corps. Heads down!"

"It's not often that Khalid can look at his life from a distance. But, instantly, he can see himself clearly for once. He's another meaningless bent orange shape dropped into some weird world game, the sun fixing him here on this lump of tarmac like a dart in his back. He's nothing but an orange heap for soldiers to toss around because they think he's a terrorist who wants to blow up cites. Think he hates the West, even though he lives there and doesn't know anything about weapons of mass destruction or bombs or buildings crashing to the ground in New York."

There’s nothing unusual about 15 year old Khalid. He’d much rather be playing a computer game than polishing his school shoes. He hasn’t got a clue how to flirt with girls, and there is no way he’s leaving England to visit his father’s boring family in Pakistan. Especially when his football team is so close to being promoted.

Unfortunately for him Khalid’s parents disagree, and they soon arrive in the bustling Pakistani city of Karachi. What Khalid finds there is far from boring. The streets are filled with whispers of U.S troops and terrorist informers, and Khalid’s worst fears are horribly realised when he’s kidnapped and detained for questioning by U.S troops.

Surely they’ll quickly realise he’s innocent and release him? They can’t possibly send a 15 year old to Guantanamo Bay. Can they?

This book combines that chilling mixture of everyday normality and unimaginable horror. It’s the kind of story that really haunts you because it depicts a horribe situation that could so easily be true. As the author notes, ‘although Guantanamo Boy is a work of fiction, it is inspired by real events. It remains a fact that children have been abducted and abused and held without charge in the name of justice in Guantanamo Bay and many other secret prisons around the world.’

I certainly couldn’t put this down. I can’t say it was always an enjoyable read, but it was definitely immersive and thought provoking. Whilst this book carries a strong and valuable political message, the overriding sentiments are that of love and the support of family and friends. Khalid is well drawn and Anna Perera does a brilliant job of persuading even the most indifferent of readers to truly care about his wellbeing. She does this subtly over the course of the story, and I found my affection for him building slowly whilst my full attention remained centred on his inhumane treatment.

Unlike many other novels dealing with similar stories of abuse, the narrative of Guantanamo Boy is lightened by lifelike humour and small acts of kindness. This contrast allows the darker moments to retain their sharpness, and it allowed me to keep reading for long periods of time without feeling emotionally drained.

Anna Perera has highlighted the importance of human kindness in a truly remarkable setting. This book needs to be in every school library.

The Book of a Thousand Days by Shannon Hale

In a brutal and archaic punishment a beautiful young Lady is locked away in a rat-infested tower for 7 years. Her father imprisons her after refusing a favoured Lord's hand in marriage. The only one brave, or perhaps foolish, enough to accompany her to this prison is her faithful maid Dashti.

Dashti and Lady Saren live in a mystical land overseen by distant pagan gods who rule through the privileged gentry. Stripped of her family, Dashti has never known luxury and has faced a daily battle to stay alive. In contrast, Saren is a pampered princess to whom the squalor of the tower is a brutal shock.

Despite their differences the girls slowly build a routine and begin to fashion a home for themselves. At times their readiness to accept their situation felt slightly offbeat. However, it soon becomes clear that for both girls the prison develops elements of a sanctuary from the outer world as Dashti begins to suspect that Saren's extreme fear of her rejected suitor is far from natural.

Dashti is a mucker, a peasant class known for singing songs of healing. Her talent and empathy for healing the pain of others renders her blind to her own feelings and she soon becomes unwillingly entangled in a web of deceit and mistaken identities. Think Twelfth night meets Emma with a touch of Brothers Grimm.

Dashti's stubborn respect for the gentry verges on irritating and her patience with the pathetic Lady Saren is beyond understanding. This does make for an interesting take on the corruptability of religious belief but it felt overdone at times.

That being said, Shannon Hale's engaging and humorous style kept me turning the pages and the book definitely lightens up in the second half. It's a sweet story with slightly gothic moments and a few twists and turns. Would recommend if you've got a weakness for fantasy teen romance.

How the Hangman Lost his Heart by K.M Grant

'The wooden steps creaked as Dan sat down, his legs two solid logs in front of him. He found an apple in his pocket, inspected it and rubbed at the blood splatters. 'Bite?' he offered. Alice made a revolted face and he shrugged. 'I haven't had any breakfast yet,' he told her, basking in the feeling of a job well done. 'Never do, somehow, on execution mornings, although I make sure the wife gives me a good dinner after. Mutton pie tonight.'

Alice Granville's determination to recover the recently severed head of her beloved Uncle Frank wins her an unlikely accomplice in the shape of his executioner, Dan Skinslicer. Uncle Frank has been declared a traitor to the English throne and his head is morbidly displayed as a deterrent. 

Alice drags Dan on a fast-paced and slapstick quest to steal back the head and reunite it with Uncle Frank's body. As you can probably tell, this is a light-hearted and tongue-in-cheek read. Although my local library had it listed as a teen book the simplistic style, slapdash humour and blood n' guts gore would probably better suit the 10-14 range.

It's a fast read with likeable characters and K.M Grant's humour shines through in the ironic and ridiculous dialogue and narration. Grant saves the best lines for Alice's clownish and aristocratic relatives:

'Lady Widdrington, hearing the rumpus, ordered Ursula to throw open their windows. She was fond of riots and this sounded like a good one. As Alice and Dan galloped by a second time, the old lady recognized them and waved. 'That's my girl,' she cried, imagining that she was at the racecourse. 'Did we have a gamble, Ursula?''

The language and style is fresh and imaginative throughout, and the ridiculous plot becomes part of the story's charm. Parts of the narrative did become repetitive and the sub-plots were a little disjointed at times, especially that of Lady Warrington and her hideous wigs! The romantic storyline came across to me as inauthentic and out of place. Barring that though, this is a easy, charming and funny read for gruesome kids and the young at heart.

Review of 'I am David' by Anne Holm

I am David', David repeatedly explains. If he seems slightly obsessed with his own name, it can be excused since it is all he really has. For as long as he can remember, David has grown up in a Eastern European concentration camp. He has no knowledge of the outside world. However, all that is set to change when a camp guard helps him to escape and encourages him to head north, towards unknown freedom.

Although I found the novel hard to get into at first, I started to warm to David's character. He is fiercely independent and very mature for his age. His wonder and naivety at the world is refreshing to read. Witnessing him experience his first smile is genuinely touching, and his character had more than enough quirks to keep me reading.

Anne Holm's prose is simple but effective, although I sense its effect has been somewhat dampened by translation into English. The geographical and political context seems to be intentionally vague, perhaps to both reflect David's own confusion, and to allow the reader better access to the narrative. This didn't bother me, but could annoy some readers, especially inquisitive children.

This is a novel probably best marketed at young girls, and adults, since younger boys would probably find some of the more emotional aspects of the book slightly sickening! For me however, the relationships which David strikes up throughout the book with both adults and children rang true. It is a book which certainly makes you appreciate what you have. The plot runs slowly at times, but builds momentum, to the extent that the final passages seem a little rushed.

All in all it is a thought provoking, orgininal novel which focuses upon a little talked about time and place.