Tag: unwind

  • What’s Science Got to Do With It?

    Last Thursday, #MGlitchat’s topic of the week was science fiction in middle grade books. I write YA rather than MG, but I was kind of jonesing for a writerly discussion (and science fiction is a subject dear to my heart), so I joined in. It proved to be a lively topic.

    In the course of the hour or so I was participating, a few of us got into a side discussion of what constituted science fiction. Since I’m of, ahem, a certain age, and have been reading SF for a few decades (no, I won’t tell you how many), I ascribe to the classical definition of the genre. That is, it’s science fiction if, were you to remove the science element, there would be no story.

    One of the other folks on the chat wondered if that definition is no longer valid. I think it’s a fine question to ask, but I just can’t think of another definition that would serve the same purpose. It is, after all, science fiction, so there has to be science. I guess the only question would be, can you call it SF if there’s no actual science? Or if the only “science” aspect are space ships, or laser guns, or people use unfamiliar slang?

    Are there books that one might want to call science fiction, but have no science integral to the story? For instance, is Suzanne Collins The Hunger Games science fiction? It certainly has a science fiction feel to it. But what’s the science?

    How about the Games themselves? There’s a great deal of science not only in the creation of the horrific arenas, but also in the tracking of the participants every moment. There’s a certain scientific aspect to the projection of the future as well (although that element of the series could also be labeled “speculative fiction,” which is a more generic term).

    What about my own book, Tankborn? Is it truly science fiction? I believe it is. Yes, I could have created a straight fiction novel based on the Indian caste system but it would have been an entirely different book. Instead I used caste in a futuristic novel in which a bastardization of that system re-constitutes itself in a society that has left earth and colonized another planet. There is science in the creation of the genetically engineered GENs, science in the circuitry wired in their bodies that is used to control them, science in the devices that are used to interface with the GENs’ annexed brains. Some of the “science” in the book, e.g., my lev-cars and illusory holographic projections might not be strictly necessary to the story, but they do flesh out the setting. However if the science of the GENs were pulled out of Tankborn, many crucial aspects of the story would fall apart.

    So are dystopian books, in and of themselves, automatically science fiction? I can’t speak for every dystopian out there since I haven’t read them all (yet :-)). But in addition to the Hunger Games trilogy, there are other dystopians that would certainly qualify in my mind as SF. Neal Shusterman’s Unwind is an excellent example, as is Mary E. Pearson’s The Adoration of Jenna Fox. In both books, certain scientific advances (in addition to social changes) led to the dystopian world depicted in the story. In fact, without the science and social aspects in tandem, there would not be a story.

    I’d love to hear others’ opinions of what science fiction means to them. I’d like to hear what books you think are science fiction and why you think they are. For instance, I believe Margaret Atwood’s The Handmaid’s Tale is a fantastic SF book, but some might call it literary. So what are you reading in science fiction? And what’s science got to do with it?

     

  • Fave Books–A Progress Report

    It’s really too early to list my favorite books for the year. But I have realized there’s one cool aspect to owning a Kindle. It keeps track of all the books in my library. And since I’ve only read a few non-e-books since I bought my Kindle, I can refer back to that list to review nearly every book I’ve read this year.

    Ranking these books in any particular way, i.e., trying to figure out which was the best book I read, then the next best, etc., is an exercise in futility. I read eclectically and there’s no way to compare a 700-page autobiography to a fun, fast-paced YA. So I decided to come up with my own “award” categories for the books I’ve read in the last ten months. Here goes:

    Most haunting book–Unwind by Neal Shusterman, both because of its thought-provoking story and the creepiest scene I’ve ever read in a book.

    Book that really lived up to its hype–The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins, because this book (in fact the series) did not disappoint.

    Most moving, heartfelt book–A tie between Rules by Cynthia Lord and Mockingbird by Kathryn Erskine, because I felt a personal connection to the main characters.

    Longest book that I just couldn’t put down–Autobiography of Mark Twain: The Complete and Authoritative Edition, Volume 1 which was fantastic, although I have to confess, I didn’t read all the footnotes (which comprise 40% of the book).

    The hands-down most compelling first-person narrative–Room: A Novel by Emma Donoghue, which was another haunting book, but for an entirely different reason.

    The most laugh-out-loud, yet still heart-warming, book–Will Grayson, Will Grayson by John Green and David Levithan because God-I-loved-this-book.

    The book I probably recommended to more people than any other–The Help by Kathryn Stockett which made me see my own book, Tankborn, through new eyes.

    The book I was most annoyed that I couldn’t read the sequel to right awayMatched by Ally Condie because, harrumph, I want to read Crossed now!

    The funnest, coolest science fiction future–the Uglies series by Scott Westerfeld, because who wouldn’t want a hoverboard?

    The funnest, most romantic books set in Europe–a tie between Anna and the French Kiss by Stephanie Perkins, and by Maureen Johnson, 13 Little Blue Envelopes and The Last Little Blue Envelope, because I wasn’t sure I’d like them, but they completely won me over.

    The most mind-twisting book–Liar by Justine Larbalestier, because I never was quite sure what to believe, right up to the end.

    There are more that I’ve read, but I’m going to leave it at this. How many of these have you read? Do you agree or disagree with my “awards?” Let me know.

  • The Right to Choose What I Read

    I’m new to young adult literature. That is, I’m new as an author. Of course I read YA books as a kid, pretty much picking and choosing at will from the school library. That’s how I ended up reading decidedly non-YA books like Kafka’s Metamophosis and Rachel Carson’s Silent Spring when I was 14. Thank God for a mom who didn’t fear provocative literature.

    Since I’m such a newbie on the block (my first YA, the dystopian Tankborn, comes out in September 2011), I’ve sat back a bit regarding the “kerfluffle” over an opinion piece in the Wall Street Journal by Meghan Cox Gurdon. In her editorial, Ms. Gurdon declares, among other things, that today’s young adult books are dark and depraved. I’ve been unsure how to respond since I’m still working hard to get up-to-speed in YA. I’m learning as fast as I can, reading almost exclusively YA at this point, looking for the best, but also picking and choosing the books that most appeal to me.

    And here is my first quibble with Ms. Gurdon. Not every book is going to appeal to every reader. I’m okay with dark as long as there’s a wonderful character arc and there’s a sense of hopefulness at the end of the book. That’s why, although I voraciously read Suzanne Collins’s The Hunger Games and am half-way through Catching Fire, I’m thinking long and hard about whether I will read the third book or even finish the second. I can be an emotional wimp and based on what I’ve heard of book 3, I might not want to go there. It’s a fantastic series, and I’m sure I’ll miss a lot by not reading all three, but I might just exercise that freedom of choice I have and put the book aside. Does that mean the books should be banned from schools or that teens shouldn’t read them because I choose not to? Of course not. That would be silly.

    Should a young adult have that same freedom to choose as I do as an adult? For the most part, yes. A teen reading is a wonderful thing. Yes, some books might not be age appropriate, depending on the teen. When I was writing romance, my love scenes were fairly explicit. If a mom at a signing asked if my books were suitable for her daughter, I usually suggested they might be okay for a mature 15 or 16 year old, but I made it clear how “fleshed out” the love scenes were. The mom and the teen could make a choice based on that.

    That’s not to say the daughter might not find and decide to read my sexy books herself. Is that a problem? It might be if the son or daughter felt uncomfortable with what they read AND didn’t feel they could talk it over with their parent. But if a parent and child have an open and free flowing relationship, Mom or Dad can talk over the content of a book with their teen, both before he or she reads it and after.

    The thing is, so many of the YA books I’ve been reading in my effort to become more educated in the genre are tremendously thought-provoking. Scott Westerfeld’s Uglies series and the issues of beauty and obsession with fame that it raises. The Hunger Games‘s treatment of not only oppression and insurrection but our fascination with reality TV. Neal Shusterman’s Unwind‘s handling of the dichotomy between pro-life and pro-choice and where it could lead. These books are the Faranheit 451 and 1984 of our day.

    Who wouldn’t want their teens reading these books, considering these issues, critically analyzing these metaphoric stories? Teens are already thinking about these and even weightier issues, considering the world they live in. A novel can be a safe place to explore the darker side because it is fiction.

    Just my humble opinion.