River Rats, by Caroline Stevermer (Harcourt, 2005)

In the future, after much of civilization has been wiped out by the holocaust known as the Flash, a group of teenage orphans travel the length of the Mississippi River in an ancient, yet serviceable steamboat, making ends meet through barter, mail delivery and their post-Apocalyptic brand of rock-and-roll concerts. A close-knit band of friends who act as family for one another, they may squabble but they always agree on one thing: no passengers. But a chance encounter and a series of strange incidents causes them to take aboard a ragged old traveler who’s being chased by a vicious group of backwoods thugs. And from that moment on, the so-called Rats are in danger and adventure up to their ears. For the stranger knows the location of a pre-Flash cache of food, music, and weapons, the contents of which are priceless by any standards.

When their enemies catch up to them, the Rats are forced to embark on a bizarre journey both upriver and over land, making their way through ancient abandoned cities now haunted by feral children and much worse, to find the legendary lost treasure trove of the Pharaoh, a pre-Flash musical superstar. Their allies are dubious and untrustworthy, and their enemies are ruthless. Can the Rats survive an adventure which threatens to uncover parts of the past which were meant to stay buried?

This is a post-Apocalyptic rock n’ roll adventure story with attitude, combining music, mystery, and action in the best tradition. The characters wield their fiercely independent natures like fine weapons as they carve out their way through a landscape brimming with strange threats, but they never forget their loyalties to one another. River Rats is great fun, and it’s good to see that it’s been reprinted once again.

The Family of Ree, The Secret of Gorbee Grotto, and The Legend of Snow Pookas, by Scott E. Sutton (Action Publishing, 2001)

Welcome to the Planet Ree,
Which is a very nice place to be.
Share these stories with children,
To teach them about their world they live in.

I apologize for the above, but after reading the first three releases in the Family of Ree series, written and illustrated by Scott Sutton, I found it rather difficult to think in anything but rhyme. That’s because these three books, The Family of Ree, The Secret of Gorbee Grotto, and The Legend of Snow Pookas invoke the spirit of Dr. Seuss in their own whimsical, unique manner, conveying moral messages and educational undertones even as they strive to entertain.

The Planet Ree is a far off place, a beautiful blue and green planet inhabited by a fanciful host of odd creatures who coexist in symbiotic harmony. The Talking Trees give advice to the people who take care of them, and drop acorns. The acorns develop into the landbased BeeBees or seaborne GorBees, which act as minor helpers for the other evolutionary stages. When these grow up, they become Erfs and Sea Erfs, respectively, which aid the next step up on the chain, namely Wizards and Sea Queens, who are responsible for the whole world. And when they get old, you guessed it, they become Talking Trees, thus completing the cycle. Got all that?

Then there are the Long-Legged Ploots, the northern-dwelling Snow Pooka, Spotted Tree Gings, Floating Flying Fingergin, Muppies, and the Flipping Floating Flying Floojies, as a small sampling of the other bizarre beasties populating the world. Fairly fascinating, frequently freaky, fortunately fantastical, is all I have to say. (I promise, no more alliteration.)

Each book in the series is aimed at conveying a different moral lesson. For instance, The Family of Ree is geared towards helping children understand the symbiotic relationship between all aspects of an ecosystem, and how to respect this cycle of nature. (So take care of the planet where you belong, Because it’s what you’re standing on.) It also serves to introduce us to all of these beings that live on Ree, acting as a guided tour over land and sea, showing us how everything comes to be. (I didn’t say I wouldn’t rhyme.)

The Secret of Gorbee Grotto follows the adventures of one particular Erf, Jeeter. When his normal routine is disrupted by the appearance of a mysterious light, he sets off with his master, Dundee the Wizard, to investigate. They journey to Gorbee Grotto, where they discover something most definitely not of the planet Ree: a creature called a Woodrat. The Woodrat and his people turn out to be cosmic exiles, cast adrift after their own planet perished from natural causes, ultimately coming to Ree where they could be of service through their natural calling of forest rangers. The motto of this story? “Try treating others the way you’d want them to treat you.” Especially when facing the unknown. You never know when you’ll make a new friend.

The Legend of Snow Pookas takes us up north, to the frozen wasteslands at the top of Planet Ree, where bizarre three legged people known as the Snow Pookas dwell peacefully. Who are they? What are they? What role do they play in the ecosystem? The Erf Jeeter and the Wizard Dundee are determined to find out. Imagine how surprised our heroes are when they realize that the Snow Pookas do the same things they do, only adapted for the cold. The moral? “Take care of the young ones, that’s how it goes… Respect the old ones and help them with stuff.”

The true strength of these books clearly isn’t in the rhymes, which I found a bit forced, and even difficult to read aloud at times, but in the artwork, which is beautiful. Stylistic and brightly colored, children will adore the whimsical drawings of the imaginative inhabitants of Planet Ree, which tend towards round, friendly curves and bright smiles. By turns goofy and joyful, the drawings stand out on every page, eye-catching without going overboard.

On the flip side, the story portion isn’t as strong. The rhyming scheme is simplistic, and often forced, and the tongue-twisting alliteration is occasionally overboard. I gave it the read-aloud test for good measure, and tripped over my tongue halfway through a recitation of the “Flipping Floating Flying Floojie.” However, properly coached or practiced, a parent could probably turn reading these books out loud into quite the production. I suspect that the younger audience will greatly enjoy the theatrical presentation of their parents gamely reciting some of these stories.

In general, I found The Family of Ree books to be a mixed, but interesting experience. The artwork is strong, the concepts extremely creative, and the morals important. I’ve no doubt that they’ll go over well with children, and the parents had better get used to pronouncing names like Seagoing Splishes and Bobbing Bungalla Bingallees. For more information on Scott Sutton and The Family of Ree, check out their presence on the Web at www.actionpublishing.com.

Thank you for listening to my humble review
I truly hope that I’ve managed to help you,
Telling you all about the Planet Ree
And the wonderful things you’ll see.

(Sorry, couldn’t resist. Done now. Honest.)

Red Rider’s Hood, by Neal Shusterman (Dutton, 2005)

The teenager known only as Red Rider is content to cruise the streets of his urban neighborhood, doing favors for people and delivering money to his grandmother, who acts as the unofficial banker for his family. However, his predictable life is disturbed one day when a chance encounter sets a dangerous new gang, the Wolves, on his tail. Before he knows it, the Wolves have ambushed both Red and his grandmother, stolen the money, and opened Red Rider’s eyes to an even deeper danger. Possessed of an unspeakable evil power, the Wolves aren’t just a gang of werewolves, they’re a gang with some major plans. Now it’s up to Red Rider, his grandmother, and a teenage girl whose brother is mixed in with the Wolves, to seek out the werewolf hunters who defeated the Wolves in their first incarnation, generations ago. Only with that help can Red and his allies defeat the Wolves before it’s too late to stop them. But there’s a problem: Red Rider is becoming seduced by the potential power the Wolves have to offer, even as he infiltrates them, and his loyalties are fast becoming suspect.

Red Rider’s Hood is the second in Shusterman’s new Dark Fusion series, a collection of books which take classic fairy tales, merge them with mythology and other fantasy or horror aspects, and update them for a modern era. Mixing Red Riding Hood with werewolves may not be a new idea, but this book still manages to do it justice, its strengths lying in the internal monologue of the main character and his understandably torn loyalties. It’s not hard to sympathize with him as he’s forced to decide who, and what, he truly wants to be. Like Shusterman’s previous book in the series, Dread Locks, this is a fast-paced, well-told tale that makes good use of familiar elements while still spinning an entertaining story. I look forward to the next one down the line.

Rebel Angels, by Libba Bray (Delacorte Press, 2005)

In the sequel to A Great And Terrible Beauty, life for Gemma Doyle and her friends goes on. Circe’s monster has been destroyed, the magic of the Realms has been released from the crystals which bound it, and Pippa lies dead and buried, a victim of Circe’s evil machinations. At first, Gemma refuses to use her gift to travel back into the magical Realms, but events soon conspire to make her change her mind. After all, there’s still way too much she doesn’t know about the Realms, or the secretive Order, or the evil Circe. As the students of Spence disperse for the Christmas season, Gemma, Felicity and Ann meet up in London, where they alternate their normal social activities with much stranger pursuits, returning to the realms where they’re reunited with Pippa’s spirit.

Things get more and more complicated, as Gemma continues to explore the past, finding out just how the Order, the Realms, and the cult known as the Rakshana all relate to one another. As Gemma travels further into the Realms in search of the lost Temple, where she alone can rebind the freed magic, she’ll have to deal with strained friendships and betrayals, dark secrets and sinister mysteries, and Circe herself. But who is Circe, and how close has she come to our heroes while in disguise? And can Gemma ever really trust Kartik, who claims to help her, yet who loyally serves the Rakshana? In the end, Gemma will be forced to make some very important decisions about who will control the magic and the Realms. No matter what, she’ll have some powerful enemies to contend with.

Rebel Angels is the continuation of Libba Bray’s stunning Victorian tale of magic, mystery, and maturation. Quite a few questions are answered, but more are raised as Gemma follows her path of self-discovery and growth, and we learn a lot more about the Order and the Rakshana, who appears to be two sides to the same coin. Of course, this just sets the stage for the next book in the series, in which Gemma will finish what she’s started. Mark my words, this really is quite an excellent series. Take just a little Harry Potter, and quite a bit more Little Princess, throw in as much Victorian sensibility, social dichotomy, and repressed sensuality as possible, shake and stir. Bray takes full advantage of her setting to really play up the social conventions, gender-biased double standards, rampant mysticism, and restrained chaos that comes to mind when we think of Victorian England, and uses it all to tell a powerful story. I can hardly wait to see what comes next.

Quadehar the Sorcerer, by Eric L’Homme (Scholastic, 2003)

Somewhere beyond the Real World, but before you reach the unpredictable, magical, Uncertain World, lies the Lost Isle, a place forever trapped in the middle, bearing many of the trappings of the Real World, yet threatened by bizarre, shadowy dangers. However, the Lost Isle is protected, by the Knights of the Wind, and by powerful Sorcerers, whose swords and magic are all that stand against the ever-present threat of the Shadow, a powerful being from the Uncertain World.

Robin Penmarch is just another normal kid living on the Lost Isle. He plays computer games, watches TV, and hangs out with his friends. He’s also tormented by bullies, one of whom dares to steal something from him, the only tangible memento he has of his long-lost father. If anything, Robin hopes to become a Knight of the Wind when he grows up. But fate has other plans. When Robin’s magical potential is revealed, he becomes the apprentice of the legendary Sorcerer, Quadehar, beginning an intense education in the runes and the ways of magic, and also thrusting him into a life of unpredictability and danger. For someone else has an interest in Robin, a very unhealthy interest.

Ultimately, Robin and his friends journey into the Uncertain World, to rescue a lost companion. Though they have a number of adventures, both singular and together, nothing can prepare them for the enemy that lies in wait for them. Even if they escape, it’s only the beginning of a much larger story.

Quadehar the Sorcerer is the first book in the Book of the Stars trilogy by Erik L’Homme, and already a bestseller in its native France. However, this may clearly be a case of different tastes for different people, because while Quadehar has a lot of potential, it never seems to really tap into it. The blending of elements is occasionally awkward, and the pacing uneven. The characters are likeable, but I never really got a feeling for them. However, since this is the author’s first book, these are all things which can be rectified. While Quadehar didn’t particularly light my own fires, I suspect it’ll appeal to the 9-12 crowd. I’ll be looking for the rest of the trilogy, to see if reading the whole story changes my perspective.

Pretties, by Scott Westerfeld (Simon Pulse, 2005)

Following the events of the previous book, Tally Youngblood has returned to the city in which she grew up, voluntarily submitting to the operation all people undergo when they turn sixteen. Tally’s one of the very few who know, however, that the same operation which turns you from an normal, ugly person into one of the elegant Pretties also has an adverse affect upon the brain, turning the victims into shallow, capricious, careless sheep. As a matter of fact, Tally’s only become a Pretty so she can help test the cure which will heal her surgery-damaged mind and return her full mental capacity. First Tally, and then any Pretty who wants to be normal. Unfortunately, Tally and her new friends are having so much fun being Pretty, that she might not want to be cured, much less rescued by her allies in the Smoke, those few who live outside the city, free of the rigid social controls which rule society.

Then a secret visitor brings Tally the cure, and once she and a friend have taken it, they find their minds sharper, clearer, more focused. From there, they start a whole new underground movement, one which will inevitably bring them into conflict with Special Circumstances, the dark secret police who’ve used Tally to betray her friends in the past. Even as Tally looks for a way to escape the city, trouble begins to close in around her, and a dear friend may be the one to sell her out once and for all.

Westerfeld’s certainly been offering up some fascinating young adult stories in the past few years, and Pretties, the middle book in a trilogy featuring Tally Youngblood, doesn’t disappoint as it furthers the storyline. It’s set firmly in the dystopian utopia genre, where the perfect society hides dark secrets and corruption at the core, with the inevitable resistance movement living free in the wilderness. But for all that the themes are familiar and easily recognized, it still feels fresh and interesting, especially with its other core message: beware homogeneity and mandatory conformity, and it’s better to be natural than to be too artificially pretty. I’m looking forward to the final book in the trilogy, to see how Westerfeld ends this, and if he can pull off a strong conclusion.

Peter and the Starcatchers, by Dave Barry and Ridley Pearson (Hyperion, 2004)

As two ships leave port, the prologue to one of the most famous children’s stories of all time begins, innocuously. Aboard one ship: the greatest treasure known to man. Aboard the other, a group of orphans being sent overseas to the court of a mad king, as well as a secretive young woman and her matronly escort. The first ship, the Wasp, is a beautiful thing, fastest ship around, a prize for any man to covet. The second, the Never Land, is little more than a floating wreck, served by a gibbering idiot for a captain, and an incompetent, careless crew. Enter a third ship: The Sea Devil, feared vessel of the dread pirate, Black Stache, who seeks the Wasp for his own selfish reasons. And so the stage is set for the first act of Dave Barry and Ridley Pearson’s thrilling new story, Peter and the Starcatchers.
Naval battles, desperate gambles, surprising turns of event, shocking revelations, and shipwrecks soon follow, leaving the group of orphans, led by the fearless Peter, and their friends, stranded on an island in the middle of nowhere. Peter and his boys, their sailor ally Alf, and the young woman called Molly Aster, are stuck in the middle of a four-way struggle to control the greatest treasure in the world, a trunk full of the mythical starstuff, which can grant powers greater than any mortal should possess. The Starcatchers want to keep the starstuff safe. Black Stache and his first mate, Smee, have their own ideas in mind. The malevolent Mister Slank and his own right-hand-man, Little Richard, likewise have plans. The mermaids (yes, mermaids!) worship the trunk as a god, and finally, the natives of the island want everyone gone … preferably fed to their terrible crocodile, Mister Grin. It’s all here: the pirates, the “Indians”, the crocodile, the mermaids, the fairy, a flying boy named Peter, and of course, a fearsome pirate captain.

In telling the origin story of Peter Pan, Barry and Ridley have reinvented him, stripping away the nonessential aspects and getting back to the core of J.M. Barrie’s original, somewhat darker, tale, while at the same time adding new elements that link Peter to a much larger story. They’ve taken away none of the excitement, adventure, or thrilling escapades, and this Peter, though mortal, is still recognizable as the Peter Pan we’ve all grown up with. Some might find the concept of the starstuff and the Starcatchers, and how it ties Peter in with other stories, other myths, a bit much; I say it sets things up very nice for either a spinoff, or further tales that aren’t overly reliant on the original text. In the end, what matters is that Barry and Ridley have produced a worthy addition to the Peter Pan mythos, one which respects where it came from, yet isn’t afraid to get creative. (For audiophiles, let me note that the audio version of this book is read by Jim Dale, who’s also done the Harry Potter books to date.)

Peeps, by Scott Westerfeld (Razorbill, 2005)

Cal doesn’t exactly have a normal job. He works for the Night Watch, a secret organization existing undetected in the bowels of the New York City government. They’re a shadowy group whose role is to hunt down, trap, and secure people known as parasite-positives, or “peeps.” A cross between what less-informed people might call vampires, or zombies, the peeps are a hazard to themselves, and definitely to others, their bite contagious. Cal himself is a carrier, immune to the most debilitating effects of the parasite, but unable to enjoy intimacy in any way, lest he spread it … like he did to his last few girlfriends, by accident. Now, to atone for this, he’s attempting to track down the woman who infected him in the first place. However, hunting for her is about to turn up a whole host of secrets. Bad ones. Underground lairs where peeps don’t play by normal rules any longer, where cats and rats and humans alike coexist in a bizarre symbiosis, where things move deep below civilization’s reaches. Cal and his new friend, Lace, have a lot on the agenda, and they’re about to discover the true purpose of the Night Watch, and the parasite-positives. But what consequences does the truth carry?

Peeps is another exciting new novel by Scott Westerfeld, who’s certainly been hard to miss in the YA field in the past year, with his various ongoing series and stand-alone books. This is as good, and as imaginative, as anything he’s written, and certainly a lot more disturbing than most of it. With the odd-numbered chapters reserved for story, and the even-numbered chapters giving us mini-essays on parasites in the real world, it’s part science lesson, part teen vampire/zombie/conspiracy/urban bio-thriller/romance, and it’s an excellent, albeit skin-crawling, read. It definitely fits in with the Razorbill imprint’s “edgy” attitude.

Pay the Piper, by Jane Yolen and Adam Stemple (Starscape, 2005)

When Callie McCallan agrees to interview the rock and roll band Brass Rat for her school newspaper, she never imagines that she might be getting herself into an adventure born out of a centuries-old mystery. But for a band that’s been around since her parents were young, the members of Brass Rat don’t seem to look their age. And why is it so essential that they be paid immediately following the major gig they do for Northampton, Massachusetts? And why, or how, do all the town’s children vanish shortly after Brass Rat gets stiffed on their fee? The answers lie in the distant past, and in another world altogether, and in order to save her friends, family, and the other children of the town, Callie will venture into the land of Faerie itself for a showdown with an immortal king and his wayward son.

Obviously, Pay the Piper is a riff on the Pied Piper story, there’s no denying that. But by tying the Piper in with other tales, including the realm of Faerie and the Children’s Crusade, Yolen and Stemple manage to infuse a new, and logical, freshness into the familiar fairy tale. This is a fun, quick book that moves along at a brisk pace, alternating between the past and present to tell the full story of a young man who gambled everything, lost, and now has to pay a terrible price to maintain his immortality, and the story of a young woman who really just wanted to go to a concert. Stemple, an accomplished rock and roll musician in his own right (as part of bands such as Cats Laughing, Boiled in Lead, and The Tim Malloys) helps to provide the lyrics for Brass Rat’s songs; I’d love to hear them actually performed. Happily, this is just the first in a series of “Rock ‘N’ Roll Fairy Tales” planned out by Yolen and Stemple, and I’m looking forward to future offerings. I’m a sucker for fairy tales retold in the modern world, and this one’s definitely a keeper. By all means, check it out.

Parasite Pig, by William Sleator (Firebird Books, 2004)

Of all the books I’ve read, I certainly never expected to see a sequel to Sleator’s classic Interstellar Pig, which came out nearly a decade ago. For those not in the know, Interstellar Pig was the story of sixteen-year-old Barney. While vacationing at the beach, he became involved in an odd new board game called Interstellar Pig, in which four players, each controlling a different alien character, jockey for possession of the Piggy, a mysterious artifact of immense power. What Barney didn’t realize at first was that the game was real, and the Piggy was worth killing for. He escaped with his life that time, though the beach house was trashed. Which brings us to Parasite Pig. Barney’s working in the Widener Library at Harvard to pay off the damages to the beach house, and every so often, he gets together with some new friends to play a familiar game. That’s right, when his former alien opponents left Earth, they forgot to take their board game with them. Now Barney’s introducing some nice, normal humans to Interstellar Pig. The only problem is, it’s still not “just a game.”

Now Barney has an intelligent parasite in his brain affecting his actions, and he and his friend Katie have been kidnaped by new players in the real game, and taken to the planet J’koot, where they’ll either be killed as pawns, or eaten by the crablike inhabitants. It’s just not his day at all. The Piggy is still out there, as are some decidedly homicidal aliens who’ll stop at nothing to possess it. Can Barney outwit them all and make it home before he’s grounded for life?

Sleator’s always been known for his wildly imaginative, bizarre stories, and it’s hard to top Interstellar Pig. Thankfully, he doesn’t try. Parasite Pig, while drawing on the same characters and themes of the first, expands on the ideas introduced and brings in some all-new twists. By far, the best addition is Katie, as another human to act as Barney’s confidante and foil. While he may be the voice of experience, she’s the voice of common sense that he lacks. The new aliens are presented in the same over-the-top manner as the old ones, which suits the story perfectly. By turns humorous and suspenseful, Parasite Pig is great fun, and it’s good to see some leftover questions answered at last.