When Dimple Met Rishi- Sandhya Menon

Do you ever feel like you're the last person on earth to read a certain book? When Dimple Met Rishi by Sandhya Menon has been on my radar for ages now, but when it first appeared, I was deep into reading down my massive Goodreads TBR list and didn't want to deviate from it too much in case I lost momentum (so glad I'm getting to the end of that project!). And although I was crazy backed up with books last week, this book still managed to find its way into my library pile, because I have zero self-control at the library these days (I mean, there are worse places to not be able to say no, right?).

Dimple Shah has never felt like she fit in. Not at school where she gravitates toward tech stuff, not with her family, where her mother is fixated solely on finding her the Ideal Indian Husband (and not at all on Dimple's potential for a fabulous career as a programmer). It's a surprise to her when her parents allow her to attend Insomnia Con, a computer coding camp held at a university during the summer between the end of her senior year of high school and the beginning of her college life at Stanford. Dimple's ready to take on the coding world, creating an app that will change lives and that will get her some attention from her coding inspiration, Jenny Lindt.

Rishi Patel is a traditional rule-following eldest son, bound and determined to live out his parents' dreams for him even if it costs him his own dreams. Family means something, right? Not that his younger brother Ashish gets that. But Rishi, whose talents are better suited to art, is off to Insomnia Con. He's on a mission...one that Dimple isn't at all aware of, and that will begin with her throwing iced coffee in his face. After a rough start, Dimple and Rishi set a few ground rules that allow them to develop at least the start of a friendship, one that slowly blossoms into something else. But Dimple has plans, plans that don't involve marriage (maybe not ever!), and she's not entirely sure if Rishi is the kind of guy who can let her be herself...or even fully be himself.

When Dimple Met Rishi is about identity, the one we're born with, the one our family assigns us, and all the different identities we wear and develop through life. I was surprised to see the negative reviews of this on Goodreads. While Dimple could be abrasive at times, I have yet to meet a person who can't (I, ahem, kind of have an enormous sarcastic streak that catches some people off-guard, because I appear so nice and sweet!). And other reviewers are constantly mentioning Dimple bemoaning how she's not like other girls. I didn't read that at all. What I saw in Dimple was a girl who struggles with what she feels her mother and her community expects from her, someone who feels pressured and trapped into a role that she knows doesn't fit who she is- and when we feel trapped, sometimes we lash out. I saw a girl who felt alienated because there weren't many other girls into tech where she was (I'm sure that varies wildly by where you live), and whose family background made her different from the majority of kids around her at school (there's a scene with Rishi where Dimple is so pleased that they can talk about their mothers and how he just gets it, without needing an explanation, and I found her relief at that charming). I understood Rishi's sense of duty to his parents, even at the cost of his own dreams, whereas some of the reviews called him weak. It may be that I'm older; as an adult, as a parent, our lives are so often about sacrifice (sacrificing sleep, sacrificing your own health, sacrificing your own sanity to watch ANOTHER episode of LoudScreamyCartoonShow) that Rishi didn't seem unrealistic to me. And the Aberzombies, well... I remember those kids well from high school. They existed. They were loud, obnoxious, acted as though the money their parents had earned made them better than everyone else... Yeah. I didn't find them off the mark whatsoever.

Maybe this is just a case of readers bringing different things to the story. Maybe I would've read this different when I was younger; maybe the readers who dislike it on Goodreads would understand Dimple differently as they grow older. Each story is really a million different stories, isn't it? A million different stories, and all of them valid.

While I would've liked to have seen was Dimple and Rishi working a little more on their app, although I just figured that took place off-screen. A few more scenes of them hard at work would've fit well with Dimple's drive to improve her coding skills. But overall, I enjoyed this. I always enjoy reading stories with Indian characters (whether living in India or Indian by heritage); it's a beautiful culture and learning more about it never fails to move me in some way. So this worked for me, and I'm honestly a little surprised at the vitriol I'm reading in so many Goodreads reviews.

Have you read this book? I'd love to hear your thoughts, because I'm feeling like I seriously missed something, in regards to those other reviews (although a friend of mine read and rated it four stars, so that makes me feel better!).


Check out Sandhya Menon's website here.

Follow her on Twitter here.

We'll Fly Away- Bryan Bliss

It is easy to forgive the innocent. It is the guilty who test our morality. People are more than the worst thing they've ever done.

                                                                    -Sister Helen Prejean


If you're looking for a book that reaches out and punches you in the gut until you're doubled over and gasping for air, We'll Fly Away by Bryan Bliss is the book you need.

Luke and Toby are high school seniors, two best friends whom every adult has failed miserably their entire lives. Luke's dad took off years ago, leaving him with his piss-poor excuse for a mother who constantly leaves zero food in the house and five-year-old twin brothers for whom he's majorly responsible. Toby's dad uses him as his personal punching bag, something the teachers at school pretend not to notice. It's always been Luke and Toby, the only ones looking out for each other, and they've got plans: Luke's got a wrestling scholarship to Iowa next year and they'll both be gone then, leaving North Carolina and all the many ways it's hurt them behind.

But it's never quite as simple as that. With the introduction of Annie, a new girl from Chicago, Luke and Toby's friendship is tested for the first time, and Toby finds himself looking for comfort and approval in places he knows he shouldn't. Things aren't getting any easier for Luke, either; he's got the wrestling match of the year coming up, and his mom has brought home a new boyfriend (an adult who calls himself Ricky; I'll let you infer what kind of guy he is). Toby's dad gives him a car, but of course there's a catch; Mom and Ricky disappear; Toby starts hanging around with an older woman whom Luke knows isn't good for him. All these events lead up to a terrible conclusion, one that's made known at the start of the book: Luke is writing letters to Toby, the only way he can communicate with him, because Luke is on Death Row.

There's a bit of a twist at the end that I think most readers will see coming long before its arrival. What we're truly kept guessing, though, is exactly what Luke has done in order to end up with a death sentence hanging over his head. There's an obvious answer, but his life is full of so many horrible people (whom Mr. Bliss is careful to never let become caricatures) that the obvious answer just wasn't the only one. After I finished the book, I logged it in my Goodreads account, then went upstairs and burst into tears in the bathroom.

This is an emotionally heavy story that will rip your heart out, Indiana Jones-style, and run it over a few times with the lawn mower for good measure. Almost every facet of Luke and Toby's lives is a tragedy; their only escape from the grueling horror of their everyday reality is their time together, often spent in a secret hideout in the woods. But as things change for them, there's a new, fresh heartbreak on every page, and you'll be met with the stark realization of exactly how we treat children who have been failed every step of the way: as so much garbage which we're eager to be rid of, cheering on their deaths as we do.

Back in the '90s, I read Dead Man Walking: The Eyewitness Account of the Death Penalty That Sparked a National Debate by Sister Helen Prejean (normal reading for a 14-year-old? Probably not), which sparked a lifelong interest in prison, how prisoners are treated, and an opposition to the death penalty. So when I saw We'll Fly Away as a suggestion for Book Riot's 2019 Read Harder Challenge (as an epistolary novel), as soon as I read the synopsis, I was in. And I wasn't disappointed, although I'm still in tears over the story, and the injustice of it all. I don't think this is a book I'll get over anytime soon, nor do I think I'm meant to. This is the kind of book that stays with you forever, and maybe it's the kind of book that will have you reconsidering the way you look at the people around you.

We'll Fly Away reads easy but it isn't an easy read, and I don't think there are words for how deeply I recommend this. Read it with a box of tissues nearby, along with some anger management skills, because you'll need both.


Visit Bryan Bliss's website here.

Follow him on Twitter here.

Time Zero- Carolyn Cohagan

The premise of Carolyn Cohagan's Time Zero drew me in, but reading it forced me to confront my feelings on dystopian literature in general.

In the future, a walled-off Manhattan is ruled by religious extremists who- huge surprise- have deemed women to be second-class (if that) citizens. Women must be veiled and cloaked at all times and aren't allowed to be educated; even learning to read is a capital offense. Makeup, perfume, nail polish, all those are illegal (because their only purpose is to entice men, of course), and women are forced into arranged marriages to the highest bidder at age 15. They have no control over any aspect of their lives and must live out their days being subservient to their husbands, only speaking when spoken to. It's in this world that Mina is taught to read by her mysterious, gruff grandmother, using something Nana calls the Primer, full of fascinating text that doesn't make much sense to Mina, but the pictures of a world that once was enchant her. She's basically memorized the entire thing.

On the day of her Offering ceremony, Mina learns that Nana has broken her hip. Disobeying her mother, she sneaks out to Nana's apartment to retrieve the forbidden Primer in order to keep their secret safe. It's on the way home that she witnesses a stoning and meets Juda, who rescues her from the angry mob that would have trampled her in their zeal for punishment. After her Offering, negotiations begin and Mina's set to marry Damon Asher, a boy that repulses her but whose family is rich and who offers her family the best price for her. It's a visit to the Asher household that sets a series of events into motion that will end with death, revelation, and change.

The reality that every rule that Mina lives by, a girl somewhere in the world is living by now is a sobering one, and that was what pulled me toward the book in the first place, along with the premise of a world ruled by religious extremists (I do love a good story about religious wackos). But this book didn't really do it for me, and I don't think that has anything to do with the book itself. The more I think about it, the more I realize that I just don't love dystopian books in general and I think I like the idea of them more than the reality. There's something about the characters in dystopian novels that I have a hard time connecting with- they never seem quite real to me in the way that contemporary (or even historical) fiction characters do. I had the same reaction to Divergent and The Hunger Games. While I liked them and found them to be well-written, they just weren't necessarily the books for me. Time Zero falls along those lines; there's nothing wrong with the writing or storyline, I just personally failed to connect.

If you're into dystopian literature, this might be one for you. The dynamics between the characters are fascinating; Mina's mother is a swampbeast of the highest order, which makes it difficult to understand how her marriage with Mina's father works. Damon Asher's mother has some pretty serious issues and her marriage to Mr. Asher is kind of a trainwreck. But Nana? Nana is a grade-A badass and the kind of character we would all hope to be if we were stuck in her reality. With the exception of Juda and Nina's father, the men are horrifying creatures, hell-bent on lording every last iota of power they can scrounge over anything female, and the world Ms. Cohagan has created is strong and terrifying. The escape scene, set in dark and flooded subway tunnels, was my personal favorite; its description will put you right there, floating on a plastic outhouse door and praying for safety. I was a little disappointed in the ending; I hadn't realized it was meant to be a series, and so this novel ends on quite a cliffhanger (this is solely because I'm not really a series reader, but I know there are tons of readers out there who are!). If you're into the fictional downfall of society, definitely check this book out, because it offers a new twist on a frightening future.


Are you a fan of dystopian literature?

Lucy and Linh- Alice Pung

A prestigious private school setting, a group of popular girls more vicious than a seething mass of pit vipers, and the immigrant experience all combine to make a deeply thoughtful novel in Alice Pung's Lucy and Linh.

Lucy Lam, born in Vietnam of Teochew Chinese heritage, is shocked to find that she's been chosen as the single recipient of this year's scholarship to Laurinda Ladies College, an exclusive Australian private school, especially since everyone knew that scholarship belonged to Tully, the nose-to-the-grindstone girl who aces everything. Laurinda is an entirely different world, filled with filthy rich girls whose attendance there mirrors that of their mothers and grandmothers years ago. Lucy's immigrant father works at a carpet factory and her mother, who doesn't speak English, spends nearly all her time sewing for pennies in their unventilated garage while also caring for Lucy's toddler brother. Even Laurinda's uniform cost is a stretch for her parents, but they make it happen, and Lucy's ready to build a better future for herself and her family. Nervous, but ready.

Right away, Lucy begins to see the serious flaws behind Laurinda's polished exteriors. Barely anyone applauds a flawless piano recital at the beginning of term. Mrs. Grey, the headmistress, seems keen on making Lucy aware of her entrance to the school as a nod to diversity. And then there's the group of girls known as the Cabinet, three Laurinda legacies who make the characters from Mean Girls look like pious, charitable nuns. After Lucy is sent to remedial English with one of the girls' mothers, Amber, Chelsea, and Brodie take Lucy in, but never in a way she's truly comfortable with. The Cabinet's influence on the school administration quickly becomes apparent, and after a series of incidents in which a teacher is fired and another student is seriously injured, Lucy begins to remember who she really is, what's important to her, and why she left her friends behind to come to Laurinda in the first place.

This is deep and serious YA about values, self-discovery, bravery, friendship, and standing up for what's right (and, you know, malicious friend groups). There's a heavy message, but the book itself never feels heavy, nor does the writing get bogged down with the importance of Lucy's journey. Even as Lucy recounts her parents' struggles to make it in a new country, the novel never drags; the family's optimism and faith in their own hard work and appreciation for their new home shine through and give the story a hopeful feeling. Lucy's mother is, I think, the most admirable character in the book. Her determination to better her family's future, her commitment to her work and children, her drive to keep moving forward in life one inch at a time made her such a sympathetic character, and so very real, especially when compared to the privileged mothers of the members of the Cabinet. The image of Quyen bent over her sewing in the garage late into the night, the air around her heavy with dust motes, is one that will remain with me.

This is Mean Girls set in an Australian private school with an immigrant flair, which deeply adds to the story and the egregiousness of venomous friend groups, and provides a fantastic contrast between the wealth of the average Laurinda student and the Lam family's meager circumstances. It's something that the movie was missing, I think, which plays out well here and makes for a fuller, richer story. I'd had this on my kindle for a while and opened it the other day on a whim without rereading the synopsis, so spending a few days in Lucy's world was an unexpected gem, as was spending that time in Australia (which I always enjoy reading about!). Overall, this is a great take on the malicious friend group trope, told through a fresh perspective that renders it unique.


Visit Alice Pung's website here.

Heretics Anonymous- Katie Henry

I read about Heretics Anonymous by Katie Henry recently on someone else's blog (and for the life of me, I can't remember who; if it was you, please leave me a comment and I'll credit you with a link to your review here! This made me realize I need to start writing down where I find all these great recommendations). The cover alone made me laugh, and the premise made it sound like it was my kind of book. Religion in YA? Bring it on!

Thanks to his father's job, Michael's moved a lot throughout his life, and this time he's landed at a private Catholic high school. Which wouldn't be the biggest deal, except he's an atheist, so it's a little uncomfortable. Feeling out-of-place and friendless on his first day, Michael latches on to Lucy after her no-holds-barred response against the quote about well-behaved women rarely making history in theology class. Surely Lucy's like him, not fitting in among all these sheeple.

Except Lucy does believe. Maybe not exactly the way the Church would want her to, but she still counts herself in. In spite of this, Lucy drags Michael with her to the group of friends who have dubbed themselves Heretics Anonymous, which includes a gay Jewish boy, a Reconstructionist Pagan girl, and a dresscode-flaunting Unitarian. Together, they decide to start shaking things up at the school. Rules, especially the pointless ones made by hypocrites, were made to be broken, right?

At first, exposing the school's hypocrisy merely triggers debate amongst the student body, but when Michael's family situation causes him to make a few decisions based on anger, the real-life repercussions begin to fall outside of the group. It's no longer fun and games when everyone's getting hurt, and Michael will have to use what he's been learning at St. Clare's Preparatory School in order to make things right.

This is a laugh-out-loud book (I figured the people sitting by me in the library were going to think I was nuts, with my constant chuckling as I turned the pages) with themes of justice, redemption, and self-reflection. Ms. Henry never gets in the reader's face with a message; rather, she lets the group of friends' actions and emotions speak for themselves. The friends are able to engage in spirited but productive debate over issues such as dress code and the school's firing of a married lesbian teacher, defending each other when appropriate, telling each other to back off when necessary. While they may not always agree perfectly with each other or with the Church and school, their ability to express their feelings on each matter at hand and make the others understand the importance of their position is invigorating. Far from being a heavy-handed morality message, I think Ms. Henry has written a great example of what a cohesive friend group should look like here.

I attended Catholic school from two years of preschool all the way up until eighth grade graduation, and while I no longer consider myself Catholic, a lot of this rang true for me, particularly the religious jokes (I think we all made the joke about cannibalism at one point in our many, many hours of religion class) and the seething debate over religious issues and doctrine (I don't remember one girl in my class who was okay with the idea of never using birth control, and you better believe we pushed back on that one). I do remember a few students who were more pious than others, but none quite as extreme (or as snotty about it) as Theresa...but then again, we were a pretty small school, so I'm sure students like her exist somewhere.

There was a moment that stopped me in this book, that surprised me. Close to the end of Chapter 14, Lucy brings up the Magnificat. *(If you're not familiar, it's from the Gospel of Luke, 1:46-55, where Mary sings after she's been told she's going to give birth to the son of God.) It's Lucy's favorite because it's revolutionary, and she tells Michael about how it was banned in Argentina in the 1970's after being used by mothers of people killed by the military, and how it was banned in Spain in the 1930's by Francisco Franco. This all struck a chord with me, not because I was familiar with it (I can't remember if we were taught the significance of the Magnificat or not), but because I'd recently read something about it and couldn't remember where. When I got home, to my surprise I actually found it again, a Washington Post article titled 'Mary's 'Magnificat' in the Bible is revolutionary. Some evangelicals silence her.' Up until the point I read this article back in December, I had no idea how revolutionary or subversive these verses have been considered, and it was fascinating to me to see this pop up again in my life.

This was really a fun, funny, thought provoking book. I see that Ms. Henry has another book coming out in August of this year, titled Let's Call It a Doomsday; you better believe I'll be breaking down the library door to check out a copy!


Visit Katie Henry's website here.

Follow her on Twitter here.

Humming Whispers- Angela Johnson

Humming Whispers by Angela Johnson is a book that's been hanging out on my TBR list for probably close to ten years now, if not more. I used to be one of those people that added books and then just never read them, until I realized how stupid that was, and that I wasn't learning anything from those books by not reading them. I'm now starting Year Three of reading my TBR list down, and this was next up.

Sophy is a dancer who attends a performing arts high school in Cleveland. She lives with her aunt, who makes tofu for a living, and her sister, who is older than her by ten or eleven years and who is schizophrenic. Nikki hears voices, acts erratically, and has a nasty habit of wandering off and disappearing for months. Sophy feels a deep responsibility for her sister and spends the majority of her free time watching over her, but now that she's a teenager, she's frightened that the disease that stole her sister at this age is coming for her too. To cope with the stress, Sophy shoplifts from nearby businesses.

That's really about it. There isn't much of a hard-hitting plot here, just a drawn-out description of the grittier side of Cleveland and Sophy's day-to-day life. There's no, "THIS happened, so we did THIS, and then because of that THIS happened and then everything went wrong but we fixed it by doing THIS." Everything just meanders from one day to the next. There's no long-term care plan for Nikki, no look to what the future really holds for her or Sophy; the book just kind floats to a close. At one point, Nikki goes missing for several months and there's no description of the panic the family must have felt, just a blasé, "Eh, she'll turn up soon, she always does," followed by a leap forward in time to when she is found. The book was published in 1995; in YA terms, that's pretty dated and it shows, both in the style and in the way it fails to truly connect the reader to Sophy's fear and Nikki's illness.

The one bright spot was Reuben, Nikki's devoted boyfriend. He's part of the support team, playing his saxophone to make her smile, searching for her when she's missing, by her side in the hospital after she's found. His devotion never wavers, and I enjoyed his scenes.

This wasn't quite a win for me. I don't know that the book has aged all that well in terms of being able to draw in teens today, and the style alone failed to captivate me. If you're looking for YA books on mental health, Goodreads has a decent-sized list of them (I've read...a lot of these). I'm definitely interested in checking out Ms. Johnson's picture books, though. She has quite a few of them on her website, and we're making a stop at the library on Monday for new picture books for my daughter!


Visit Angela Johnson's website here.