Sekret, by Lindsay Smith

Let's talk about figurative language.

Oh, goodness, I can hear you lot moaning already.

I think, in some cases, English classes taught in schools lead us to believe that discussing diction, syntax, and figurative language is the most boring thing that anyone could ever go through.

EVER.

But it's not, not really. Mostly, we just hate the lectures and the pages and pages of explanation we have to write; that's what's redundant and annoying. If you're a native English speaker, you definitely understand the difference between words and metaphors. 

No? Let me switch approaches, then. Sekret's a book about young Yulia Andreevna Chernina, a former child of party members in Soviet Russia. After her family is thrown from power, she, her mother, and her younger brother hide in their aunt's apartment while her father is off doing god-knows-what: it's important, that's all Yulia is told. To survive, Yulia has to trade their old possessions down in the black market for food, medical supplies, and anything else they may need. In this endeavor, she may have a slight advantage.

She can read minds through touch.

Soon, however, the KaGeBezniks -- what they call KGB agents -- find her, and she is separated from her family and taken to a facility where six teenagers with similar abilities learn how to serve the Motherland. If she doesn't cooperate, they will kill her family.

I'm not here to discuss the plot, though. This all ties back into word usage -- you wouldn't believe how creative Smith's description is.

In describing the warden's smile, she writes, "She bares her ragged teeth in a grin. They remind me of the metal tank traps along the Moskva River that held back the fascists." (39) When was the last time you heard a smile, no matter how ugly and menacing, likened to tank traps?

There's more.

"His words are trimmed in razor wire." (62)

"His [eyes] are a burned shade of brown. smoldering like the last winter log." (49)

"A man stands over the documents -- gaunt to a degree only Russian men can be, as though his whole face hangs on the two pegs of his cheekbones." (54)

The last one's my absolute favorite. Can you imagine the man? Maybe not, maybe not completely -- after all, there's no description given regarding his hair and his eyes and lips and things. But it's enough, isn't it? You get a feel of the person, the words gaunt and pegs and hangs telling you all you need to know.

Smith's writing is like this at every turn: words and phrases that you as the reader know could have been completely commonplace, and instead they tell you more about the story and characters than you'd ever expect. It's a learning experience, too; as you read, you can see where the words you would've chosen would be too simple, and watch phrases interact with each other, devilishly spinning a tale that runs cold fingers up and down your spine.

If the unique description weren't there, I doubt I'd notice. But it is, and that makes the book so much more satisfying.

Faking It, by Misha Hicks and Defying Stereotypes

The only thing I love more than books without stereotypes are books that take something stereotypical and defy that stereotype at every turn.

The first stereotype the unassuming little e-book annihilates is the stereotype that stories on Wattpad are terrible. This book is imaginatively written and laugh-out-loud hilarious, and I honestly believe that the writer could get it published.

The next stereotype that it squashes lies in the plot. Faking It is about a girl, Amy, who moves to a super rich town to live with her dad after her mother kicks her out. Her new school's star quarterback lives right next door, and they soon make fast friends. Later in the summer, they decide to pretend to be dating during the next school year so Amy has a better time making friends.

Do you think she and quarterback Matthew will fall in love?

Ding dong, you are wrong.

Matthew agreed to fake date Amy only because his teammates were constantly trying to hook him up with girls, and Matthew would prefer lovers more...masculine. And Amy needs help making friends because she's whip-smart and brutally honest, and people tend to hate her for it. Except for Matthew, obviously. He's easily her most loyal friend by the end of the book, and these two get into heaps of trouble.

All right. Next stereotype. Amy's faux beau is gay, but he isn't the stereotypical gay man. Shopping makes him uncomfortable, and the football team and he get into all sorts of teenage boy trouble (have you noticed that everyone seems to be getting in trouble? There's a reason the book's subtitle is A Comedy of Errors).

Next enters bad boy Johnathan, brother to Matthew. He and Amy definitely have a thing by the end of the book, but that is where the similarity to Twilight ends. Johnathan is not just a bad boy. Johnathan is a musical prodigy who got kicked out of a high end school because he dared to envision Tchaikovsky's The Nutcracker differently (the fact that it had professional pole dancers is completely irrelevant. It was visionary). And obviously they get into trouble too.

 Amy's mother is a drunk. That's another stereotype that's been tarred and feathered. Amy's mother is not just a drunk, she's a gifted writer, and wrote a book on feminism that had a cult following for years. The latter half of the book delves into the relationship between Amy and her mother; it's the perfect blend of emotion and sarcastic jokes.

Guys. I cannot explain to you how much I want you to read this book. I will shove it down your noses and preach its literary genius for years upon years if that means Faking It will get the recognition it deserves. Its plot is feminist, pro-gay rights, and against the elitist art movement. It's pro-hippy, anti-high school hierarchy (sorry Mean Girls) and seriously hysterical.

It's the perfect book, and it can be found right here

Divergent: Setting

Two months ago, my good friend Maya gave me her copy of Divergent after I said that I hadn't read it. Yes, I did say two months ago. Two. Months. Ago.

I really have no excuse. Have I mentioned my reading slump? It's so hard to yank yourself out of that, even if last week I read two books in as many days. I think it's because I've gotten this app, Wattpad, and I've been reading short stories on that most of the time. Maybe next week I'll write a post about a story I read on there.

Aaaanyways, Divergent.

The setting in Divergent is a dystopian world where each person gets sorted into a faction: Abnegation, Amity, Candor, Dauntless, and Erudite. (I just noticed something. Why are the first three factions nouns, and the last two adjectives?)

Most of you are probably already aware of the personality traits of each faction. Moving on.

I'm honestly a little worried about the setting of the story. The roads are cracked and it doesn't matter because no one has cars. Some sections of the city are dilapidated and crumbling. Abnegation volunteers its members to help rebuild some parts of the ailing city. Veronica Roth writes, "We don't need stoplights, either, but in some places they dangle precariously over the road like they might crash down any minute." (Roth 24)

What happened? Why is the city in such terrible shape? Does it have something to do with the beginning of the factions? I'm beginning to wonder if it does, and I'm scared for the main character, Tris. I've already become attached to her and it's been 70 pages.

I think I'm in for a world of pain.

Divergent Movie Trailer

Artemis Fowl: The Last Guardian, And Why Juvenile Books Are OK

Surprise!

I have finished Dragon's Keep already, and have now started on another book. I'm so proud of myself, and dread the day this streak ends in a pit of fiery book hiatus.

Before you laugh at me for reading a book directed to an age group I surpassed two years ago, let me explain. My brother got this book from the library because it's the newest (and last) installment to the Artemis Fowl saga, a series I loved when I was younger. I had accompanied him into the library and I got Dragon's Keep while I was there. And I finished it within two days. Now he's moved on to another book, having read Artemis Fowl in one day, and I needed something to read.

What was I to do? I obviously started reading it, and got sucked into the fantastic universe that I had loved not two winters ago. I love Artemis, and his sassy intelligence. I love the valiant Captain Holly Short and her affinity for burning rulebook upon rulebook.

 And I feel guilty.

I cannot count the number of times I've slid the book back into my bag so one of you lot won't see what I'm reading (so obviously, to preserve the book's anonymity I'm writing a blog post about it). I constantly divert questions away from what I'm reading so I won't have to hear, "Oh, I used to love that series!"

I've seen so many of you reading mature books, with adult characters and deep reflections into the meaning of life and love and family. When was the last time you reread a book or series you used to love, just for the heck of it? Not to look cool, not to read what your friends read, not to appear well-adjusted and grown up?

I know I'm not talking about the book Artemis Fowl itself, and I'm sorry. But I think we'd all be happier if reading a book from your past wasn't so uncool and childish. We don't always do it to enjoy the book like we enjoy books for older audiences.

I remember the first couple chapters of this book, my mind automatically generating the old mental image I had for Artemis. The first couple chapters were the best, because it was pure childish joy. I just basked in the memories of my childhood and all the little things that author Eoin Colfer includes that make the series so well known.

I think we all need to read a book from our childhood to remember what it was like to love characters unconditionally, or we'll forget why we ever read in the first place.

Dragon's Keep: Predictions

Yes, I know, it's incredible. I've actually started a new book. That's right, folks; I have finished a book and started another one.

It's unprecedented. Sort of.

Dragon's Keep is about a princess prophesied to restore her family's honor on the throne. The only problem is, one of her fingers is a dragon claw. How is she supposed to be a good wife, mother and queen if one of her fingers is an actual, scaly, real life dragon claw? I'm not that far in yet, but the summary on the back cover reveals that there's a dragon plaguing their island kingdom, and this dragon captures Princess Rosalind. But, instead of eating her, he finds her dragon claw fascinating.

This is huge. Never in Rosalind's life has her claw ever been called anything other than a problem, a deformity, a mark of the devil. When something so savage and cruel tells her that her claw is, well, cool, she experiences a feeling that she's never even thought about feeling. Hope.

I predict that she'll eventually come back to her kingdom stronger and more prepared to be a good leader than she was before, because she'll understand that physical markings aren't a sign of true power. I also hope that the author doesn't get rid of her claw, but rather the people that think her claw is disgusting. If the claw were removed, then the message of the story almost becomes "Accept yourself for who you are so your flaws will disappear," rather than "Accept your flaws so you can live your life knowing your flaws are what make you so fantastically you."

And, obviously, I hope the dragon continues to kick some serious medieval butt.

STILL READING: How To Catch A Bogle

I wish I had more time to read. 

Well, that's actually not the problem. I do have free time when I could be reading, but I always spend it scrolling through miles of posts on Tumblr or texting or watching kittens do silly things on YouTube. It's a huuuuuuuuge problem, and I don't know how to fix it. Honestly, if you've got a suggestion, leave it in the comments. Thanks. 

Anyways, I do enjoy reading How to Catch a Bogle, and part of it is because of the dialogue. The book is set in the less civilized parts of Victorian London, and the dialogue is the perfect blend of authentic colloquialisms and modern day language for the sake of clarity. When I read the lines, I can literally hear a cockney person talking in my head. It's fantastic. For instance, on page 11, Birdie says, "There's nothing to fear. Why, it's no more'n catching a rat. For there's rats as big as bogles where I come from, and they ain't never eaten us yet!" 

It's nice to read a book where the voices in your head come alive, and the differences in accents between a posh older woman and dear Birdie are so drastic that you can actually hear them. It's like being part of the book, and I love that feeling. Being part of an adventure or something important is really the reason I read so many science fictions and fantasy novels. Real life is boring, wouldn't you rather catch bogles in Victorian London?

How to Catch a Bogle, by Catherine Jinks

Who's the author?

Well, her name's Catherine Jinks. We know that much. And she's written another series, the first book titled Evil Genius. I've read it.

And I didn't like it.

That was something that made me reluctant to open How To Catch A Bogle and read, because how on earth can I like a book if the author has written books I haven't liked?

So I googled her, and found out she's from Australia; Brisbane, to be exact. She's written 30 books, is two years older than me mum, and spent her formative years in Papua New Guinea. Plus she's got tons of awards for her writing, including the Children’s Book Council of Australia Book of the Year Award (three times), the Victorian Premier’s Award, the Aurealis Award for Science Fiction, the Australian Ibby Award, and the Davitt Award for Crime Fiction.

I'm considering re-reading Evil Genius, to be honest.

She's got a degree in Medieval History, which sounds very cool, and, unlike my traditional vision of an author, she likes movies and television. And look what she has to say about her experience with school:

"I didn't enjoy primary school much because my family moved around all the time. I enjoyed high school because I made some really, really good friends there. I liked English when it was all about writing stories and putting on plays, but when we started concentrating on essays for exams in the last two years, I lost my fondness for it."
 

Me too, Catherine Jinks, me too.

Review of How to Catch a Bogle

A Symbol for Uncle George

I still haven't finished Story Time. I personally blame my ridiculous schedule and my inability to remember to take it upstairs and read in bed. But I am very close to finishing it, so I thought I'd talk about George Melvil rather than the plot.

George. George. Geeeoooooorrrrge. Honestly, he's my favorite character. He's smart and funny and his biggest pet peeve is redundancy, especially in speech. And he means well, even if sometimes he really annoys his niece, Kate.

I think if I had to pick one thing in the universe that really represented him, I'd say the Cloud. Not a cloud, the Cloud. The one that stores our pictures and information? Like iCloud storage and DropBox? That's George.

George is a walking bank of information, and so is the Cloud. George can be annoying and complex, and so is the Cloud. George makes Kate's stay at Whittaker-Magnet easier, but she doesn't always realize it. Like you and the Cloud.

Let me put it this way: the Cloud and George both exist without others giving them too much notice. That proves useful when Kate and he do some exploring of their own at Whittaker...and find quite a few secrets.

I really do think you guys should read this, mainly because it's such a weird, off-kilter story. The characters are funny and original, and the villains are totally hateable. They're absolutely vicious, and the plot has so many twists and turns. Go check it out. Right now. Go.

Story Time, by Edward Bloor

Story Time, in short, is a book about standardized testing. "Oh, gross!", you say. This is why one should never reduce a book to a phrase.

Right, so. Story Time is actually about two kids, George and Kate. George is in 6th grade, and is 8th grader Kate's uncle. George is a genius, Kate is rebellious. There's a demon too.

George gets chosen to attend the best school in the country, Whittaker Magnet School, and because he and Kate live in the same duplex, she is invited to join too.

So, they join. Who wouldn't? Well, Kate wouldn't, but her original public school can't accept her now that her house is suddenly inside Whittaker's school district lines. Suspicious...?

Of course it's suspicious. Everything about the school is either beyond boring or totally weird. None of the teachers are addressed by name, only by the subject and the grade level they teach (it might distract from learning). And whatever '"learning" that is happening there consists of tests after tests after tests. That's the whole curriculum! I'll give you a moment to weep in a dark corner of your closet. It's a terrifying thought, I know. Feel free to binge on macaroni and cheese from a box and become a hermit.

Still don't believe me? You have a strong stomach. Here's what the principal has to say about the curriculum: "So, your next question is, What will I be getting in return? I can tell you in three words: Test-Based Curriculum.Your children will soon understand the intricacies of standardized tests better than the people who write them. They will be the top test takers in America." (pg 62)

Top test takers? What? They sit around and learn how to test? Ugh. Sarah McLachlan, I have some new victims for your commercials. I'm getting teary-eyed thinking about it.

They are literally not taught anything that isn't on a test. One teacher, English 8, had one harmless poster about Shakespeare. Too bad, mate. Standardized Tests don't have Shakespearean literature in their testing materials. They sacked him for distracting the kids.

But, thank god, this book is actually a satirical work. It calls the school systems of the world out on just teaching kids how to pass a test, and not how to learn and enjoy learning. I think you guys can relate to that. How many times are we taught something only so we get good grades on tests? How many times do teacher's favorites get better grades than the other students?.

I seriously recommend this book not only because it's quite funny,  but because it addresses an educational issue. While reading this book, I get this feeling of understanding. I understand this book. This book understands me. It's very satisfying.

Plus, there's a demon on the loose and several creepy librarians.

Several.

Going Bovine, by Libba Bray

The most important line from Chapter 15 is...

"And some little atoms come awake inside me, swirling into a question I can't shake: 'Why the hell not?' I could have a chance. And a chance is better than nothing." (pg 123)

Perhaps you'd like a little background first. Going Bovine is a book about a guy named Cameron who discovers that he's sick with mad cow disease. It's fatal. But the book takes a completely different turn than you'd expect. Cameron is visited by an angel in the hospital, who, instead of sending him on a journey of acceptance and enlightenment, assigns him a mission: Find Dr. X, get him to close the wormhole he opened before he tears apart the world, and grab the cure that Dr. X has for his disease.

This line is the moment Cam realizes he's got nothing to lose, and, if he succeeds in this mission, everything to gain. If Cam hadn't had this itching feeling that this wasn't a hallucination brought on by his condition, if he hadn't thought "Well, why not?", then the entire book wouldn't have happened. Cameron would have wasted away on his hospital bed, and the world soon after would have been destroyed by beings from another world. This is the exact moment Cam decides he's going to save the world.

Witch: Season, by Jeff Mariotte

Dear Mr. Jeff Mariotte,

I have to tell you something.

First off all, thank you for creating a main character who is traditionally attractive. As if we didn't have enough female protagonists with long, shiny hair and gorgeous bodily proportions. Of course she must also be moderately sarcastic, just enough to give the impression of being intelligent but not too caustic because then she might actually be an interesting main character without the help of supporting male characters. Naturally, when a male stranger shows up on her summer share house's lawn covered in blood and barely conscious, she must feel inexplicably drawn to him; when he makes the odd request "No doctors," she immediately complies, and even tells her flatmates to restrain themselves from doing something sane and, you know, calling the police. And where would your story be without this Kerry Proffit caring for her cancer-stricken mother, so she feels she must care for the stranger too, all the while describing him as "quite attractive in a dark, smoky sort of way." Gee, never heard that before.

The point I'm trying to make is, your narrator, your main freaking character, the first person we meet when we open your book, is so cookie cutter and unimaginative that she depends on the male characters to make the book interesting. That infuriates me. She never even listens to reason--just Daniel! He could be a serial killer, but at least he's an attractive psychopath, right?

Not only that, Mr. Tall Dark and Typical, Daniel Blessing? His back-story is so pathetic, you might as well have left it out. It's not often I hate so vehemently on a book, but really? During the spring of 1704, Season (the witch) was accused of witchcraft. Season destroyed the town, leaving only one person to survive. Well, three. D-Bless's mother was pregnant at the time with twins. Three hundred years later, his mother and brother have died in the fight to end Season. Daniel, the lone hero, must continue to pursue her all alone...

You see where I'm going with this? One, his background exists only to excite the pity of Kerry, so she can follow him around and never question his motives, and two, why is Kerry feeling pity for a guy who got his family killed on a vendetta? Dan the man said so himself, Season is too powerful for him to handle. So why must he go about trying to kill her? He's lived for 300 years and can perform feats of magic that mortal minds can't truly comprehend. He could be rich and happy forever, and his mom and brother could have survived along with him!

So basically, your plotline could very well be interesting, but you haven't really thought about how you should write your characters. To me, as a reader, it was painful to turn every page and just wallow in the typical romance that blossoms. I don't mean to offend you, but frankly the way you wrote your female protagonist angers me. Why did her life have to change after she met a boy? Why does she have to be a dull character without the plot and the men?

                                           Your Offended Female Reader,
                                                              Tanvi Jagtap

The Crimes and Punishments of Miss Payne, by Barry Jonsberg

Something I realized
The book opens with a copy of an assignment from an English teacher, ordering a paragraph or two of similes describing a person, place or thing. It's written by Calma Harrison, about someone she knows. His name is Kiffo. The ensuing paragraphs are really good characterization for Calma, because how many people do you know that can think of similes like this one:

 "Kiffo's nose is like butter on toast. It was put on hot and it spread. His nostrils gape like two huge caves, but it would be difficult to camp in them, or even light a fire in them."

Calma's special like that.  She can be bitingly sarcastic and eloquently rude about a great many things, and the way she chooses to phrase them gets progressively funnier throughout the book. The story is about two kids, Calma and Kiffo, trying to prove their teacher is a drug dealer.

"The new teacher is inexperienced. She thinks she can get through to the kids, bless her. That she can make a difference, mold minds, instill a love of literature into the lumpy heads of Kiffo and the other dazzlingly dysfunctional dumbbells that make up my Year 10 English class."

 As you read the book, you're convinced that's what the book is about, fighting off the drug dealer teacher, but the ending makes you realize that something else was more important. I'm not gonna say if the teacher was a drug dealer and if they proved it, but Kiffo dies in the process. The rest of the book's focus suddenly switches from catching the teacher to Kiffo and Calma's friendship. It's not even something that you can read and realize the difference. After his death, you think more about their relationship than what happens to the teacher. You care more about Kiffo than you do about the teacher. It shows the book was written masterfully, because you don't realize the point of the book before Kiffo dies, just as Calma didn't realize how much she loved Kiffo's friendship until he was dead.

Airborn, by Kenneth Oppel

The best thing about my book is...

Well, there are two things. 

• The two main characters, Matt Cruse and Kate de Vries, have a great relationship. It's filled with sarcastic remarks and jokes. As you're reading, you smile at almost every conversation. I think it's because Kate reads quite a bit, so she knows a lot. She wants to be a biologist, but her parents don't approve. After the airship crashes on an island in the Pacific, she's thrilled she'll get to see all the wildlife, and of course there aren't any dangerous animals on this little island in the Oceanic, Matt, because I've read it in a book. This leads to her being wrong a lot and Matt being caustically sarcastic. Their relationship, in my opinion, makes the book because while the setting and the plot are interesting by themselves, the characters make you want to keep reading if only to hear them speak.

"There's no snakes here, by the way," I told her. "I'm completely sure of it." -Matt, after being attacked by a red jumping snake. 

• This one is a smaller detail, but in my mind it's just as important. Kate and Matt, while on the island, discover a new species of animal that never lands on the earth nor swims in the seas. It looks like a mixture of a panther and a bat. You know when you read a book and a mystical creature is introduced, and it's described as majestic and intelligent and truly innocent, and blah blah blah mankind is a lesser creature in its presence... Well, there is some of that in the book, but pretty soon you realize that while the creature is majestic and intelligent it's also incredibly vicious. I appreciate the originality in creating a new animal. 

"We saw her teeth, and suddenly she was no longer a sleek, shy cat...We'd made a terrible mistake." -Matt, after they lured the cloud cat to them so they could get a picture.

My Letter to Dan Brown [mild spoilers]

Dear Mr. Brown,
               I'm writing to you because I've finished your latest Robert Langdon adventure, Inferno. It was a well written book, with lots of interesting facts about Italian architecture and taut suspense.
               First, I'd like to talk about Dr. Sienna Brooks. I love the way you revealed her secret identity. First the unnamed traitor reminisces on a fond memory, leading you to believe that one character is the betrayor. Then, Sienna remembers that same memory. You've even written it with almost the same words. It was the best plot twist I've read in a long time, because it kept me guessing and suspecting all the characters of the book.
              Secondly, I'd like to commend you on your creative alliances. I started the book believing there were four teams, the first the Silver-Haired Woman, Robert and Sienna, the second the Consortium, the third group the people who had captured the Silver-Haired Woman, and the fourth group the person behind the plague that would reduce the world's population. As the book progresses, you meld each group with each other and split teams constantly, heightening the reader's suspicion with every character that isn't Robert Langdon himself.
              Finally, your conclusion to the novel was superb. The ending was really surprising but still made you feel like you should have seen it coming. The plague's purpose, Sienna's real identity, and why on earth everything is related to Dante's Divine Comedy, are all answered with apblomb. Best ending to a book I've read in a long, long time.
                                                                               Sincerely,
                                                                                       Tanvi Jagtap

Inferno, by Dan Brown

               One of my friends texted me late last night, asking if I'd read Inferno. I told her that I hadn't, and her immediate response was that she was bringing it to school tomorrow and that I will read it, there is no "choice" here. I love it whenever people say something like that about a book. I'll probably read it if you tell me the world will end if I don't.

               I've read The DaVinci Code, The Lost Symbol, and Angels and Demons, and really like the style of writing Dan Brown uses. Even though I just started the book, I already know the main character. He wears Harris tweed, loafers, and a Mickey Mouse watch, and , to me, they're all symbols. He's a Harvard professor, so I consider his tweed and loafers as a distincton. They're a visual representation of his professor background, so that even when he's hiding from trigger-happy bad guys and miraculously solving a complex code you're reminded that he's a teacher, and he really isn't built to be a hero. He's just a regular guy--well, a genius professor of symbology at Harvard--and that's actually quite heartening to read. His Mickey Mouse watch is, rather predictably, a symbol of his childhood. But, it's less of a link to a weepy backstory and more of an explanation for his skill in solving codes and following clues. Why is it that a professor can stop dangerous plots better than people trained to do so? Two reasons: One, he's trained to look for links between different things (symbology) and two, he's got a different point of view, and that's a quality many children have.

               When he wakes up in a hospital bed at the beginning of Inferno with no memory of where he'd been for the past two days and no idea how he got to Italy from Massachusetts, he's without these two symbols. Above all, those items are links to his past, and right now he needs to remember everything he can.

               I think I'll keep reading.

The Pearl Savage, by Tamara Rose Blodgett

               I started reading the ebook The Pearl Savage about two days ago. The book is about a future world where, after some sort of cleansing event, the USA's surviving humans live in spheres that protect them from the outside world. The states are now referred to as Kingdoms, like the Kingdom of Ohio, where the book is set. The book is centered around Clara, the princess of the kingdom. Since she was a girl, she loved to work in the oyster fields to harvest pearls, because oyster farming is the primary industry of the Kingdom of Ohio. Her mom, Queen Ada, doesn't approve of this. She doesn't really approve of anything that doesn't compliment her or get her more wine. There's also a group of people who live outside the sphere, the Savages. They can sometimes be spotted in the nearby forest. They also have gills, so they can breathe in the environment outside. So far, The Pearl Savage seems like a good book, although I currently have many questions.

1. What was the cleansing event?
2. Who were the Guardians and why did they initiate the event?
3. Why do the people inside the spheres think the Savages are savage?
4. Why are there kingdoms inside the sphere, instead of democracies?
5. How did the savages get gills?

               I think the book has omitted these answers just to add some suspense, and while I respect that, it does get rather annoying when you're reading it. You have to take almost all of the opening chapters on face value, and that bothers me. I need to know why everything is the way it is, and if it isn't believable and clever, I need to stop reading. I like books with good background stories.

Broken Symmetry, by Dan Rix

               While my family was driving the 16 hour trip to Florida, I read an ebook called Broken Symmetry. It's a science fiction novel about a girl named Blaire Adams who learns that, through a genetic anomaly, she can pass through the surface of mirrors into the world beyond. It's based on the concept that when light photons hit a mirror, they have two choices: reflect, or pass through. Apparently, scientists have found that they do both, the photons make no choice, and two separate universes are created; one where the photon reflected, and another where it passed through. When people like Blaire pass through the mirror, they experience severe internal hemorrhaging. Eventually it kills them.
               The world that Blaire passes into is a reflection of the one she came from, but reversed. Words are written backwards, and they drive on the left side of the road. If you had a cat with a black left paw and a white right paw, in the mirror world the cat's paws would be reversed. Breaking the symmetry of a mirror causes the source and the reflection worlds to diverge. Keep in mind that the source is the real world, the world that Blaire comes from.
               Once you "break the symmetry" of a mirror (meaning pass through it), the only way back to the source is to pass back through the same exact mirror. If someone or something breaks that mirror, you are trapped, forever, in that mirror world. When you break the symmetry of a mirror, the version of you in that mirror gets deleted so you are the only you in that world. But, if you didn't break the symmetry (if you found a mirror with broken symmetry and passed into the mirror world), then you would have to make sure you don't bump into yourself.
               But, Blaire learns all this in a "safe" environment. With the help of Charles, a man who once knew her missing father, Amy, his daughter, and Damian, his employee, she learns how to break symmetry "safely". There are four rules. 1) Never take anything alive back through the mirror with you, 2) Always destroy the mirror once you are finished in the world you created or things will escape, 3) Apply red tape to the mirror before breaking symmetry, this signals that it's a portal to a reflection. Apply blue tape to the other side of the mirror, the side on the reflection, to signal that it's a way back to the source, and 4) Never, ever, nest reflections. It gets confusing, and you can get lost in a maze of reflections, leading farther and farther away from the source.
               Nesting reflections means you broke the symmetry of a mirror, passed into the reflected world, and then broke the symmetry of another, reflected mirror. For example, you have 2 mirrors. A and B. You pass into A, then while in A's world you go into B. Now, to get back to reality you have to backtrack through B, then A. It seems simple, but once you try to go three levels down it gets seriously confusing. Think about it slowly. It took me forever to understand. When you break the symmetry of a mirror, the two worlds begin to act separately of one another, right? But up to that point, the two worlds are identical. So when you broke through B, A was already broken, meaning that on the "shallower" side of B (the side closest to the source), A is a portal to the source. But on the deeper side, the reflected side, A is  a portal to a deeper level of a world that reflects the source. If you followed directions, you put blue tape and red tape up on the corresponding sides of the mirror, but now there are two portals with blue tape and only one that goes to the source. There is only one source, and only one way back to it.
               Long story short, it's hard to explain. It's explained more clearly in the book, and it's considerably creepier. Obviously the plot of the story dictates the destruction of all 4 rules, and Damian and Blaire end up 50+ levels below the source following a traitor and encountering a weird mirror creature. It's insanely scary, but it makes sense. When I finished the book, I understood everything perfectly. I couldn't stop thinking about it, and staring, terrified, into every mirror I could see. The way the author described the deeper levels of reflections gave me a cold feeling while I was reading it, and the implications of nesting, the government's involvement, and the weird mirror creature made it impossible to quit reading for more than 15 minutes. I read it the entire drive, no breaks. I definitely recommend the book to anyone looking for a good thriller without an ax murderer.