BETTER NATE THAN EVER, by Tim Federle

Quick Facts:
- 304 pages
- 2014 Odyssey Honor Book
- 2014 Lambda Literary Award Nominee for LGBT Children's/Young Adult
- this review is based on the audiobook
   + read by author Tim Federle
   + 5 hr, 55 min

There are books you read, both as a child and as an adult, that you enjoy because the characters inspire you in all the ways that they are different from you. They are braver and wittier and stronger, and you take from them lessons about how you can be all those things.

And then there are books you love because the characters are so like you, so awkwardly and painfully and hilariously real, that there are times it's as if the author jumped inside your head and used your thoughts.

In Nate Foster, the droll hero of Better Nate than Ever, author Tim Federle has created a character with whom it's nearly impossible not to empathize. The book chronicles Nate's attempt to crash an open audition in New York for a new Broadway show: E.T.: The Musical. The obstacles Nate encounters along the way, and his reactions to them, are just so perfectly authentic and treated with such humor, that you find yourself rooting for Nate even when you know something isn't going to go as he plans.

Which is not to say that Better Nate than Ever is a pure exercise in comedy. In a video for the New York Times "Culture" section, Federle discusses his awareness of the "gatekeepers" in children's literature. His goal when writing, he says, is to write something authentic that will entertain the adults as much as the children (he refers to it, appropriately, as the "Pixar Model".) Two major influences on his comedic style have been Ellen Degeneres and Bill Cosby, specifically for the way in which they addressed real topics with humor and without resorting to the "low hanging fruit" of "being mean or swearing."

I mention all of this because Better Nate than Ever deals with some very real issues. Nate is an exceptional child, and that makes him a flashing target for people's crueler impulses- even those of his own family. There are some really painful scenes, particularly involving Nate's brother and the way that Nate is treated in school. Federle never allows these scenes to become too heavy, primarily through Nate's humor about them, but it is clear nonetheless that the very humor that gets Nate through it is also a coping mechanism for survival.

Better Nate than Ever was nominated for the Lambda Literary Award, which recognizes books addressing the LGBT experience. However, it is not at all an LGBT issues book. Federle makes the wise and effective choice to place Nate as an individual at the center of his novel, so that everything else is secondary to Nate's own unique experience. Regarding his sexuality, Nate says only:

"My sexuality, by the way, is off-topic and unrelated. I am undecided. I am a freshman at the College of Sexuality and I have undecided my major, and frankly don't want to declare anything other than "Hey, jerks, I'm thirteen, leave me alone. Macaroni and cheese is still my favorite food- how would I know who I want to hook up with?"
- Better Nate than Ever

This refusal to label his thirteen-year old protagonist allows Federle to truly explore all the uncertainty, self-questioning, and confusion that comes with puberty in a way that is accessible for all young adults. Will young boys like Nate relate more closely to the character? Of course. But Nate's determination not to fit in to any box or allow himself to be labeled sends a much needed message to these kids (and to all kids): it's ok to be confused. It's ok to be unsure of yourself. You're still a kid, and you don't have to decide or announce anything to anyone.

The audiobook for Better Nate than Ever was a 2014 Odyssey Honor book, and I strongly recommend listening to it, even if you have already read the print version. Federle's reading of his novel brings Nate to life in all of his awkwardly hilarious glory and when it was over I felt strangely bereft of a friend.

Fortunately for me and for the world, Federle has already written a sequel to Better Nate than Ever: Five, Six, Seven, Nate!. I've already downloaded the audiobook to my phone.

CODE NAME VERITY, by Elizabeth Wein

Quick Facts:
- Michael L. Printz Honor Book
- shortlisted for Carnegie Medal
- 368 pages
- review based on audiobook:
   + read by Morven Christie and Lucy Gaskell
   + 10 hr, 7 min

This book floored me.

No really.

It had me on the floor.

Code Name Verity, by Elizabeth Wein, is not a book for elementary students. It was recommended to me by a sixth grader (which is why I picked it up), but after reading it I would hesitate to recommend it for the average 11 year old. I think that thematically and in terms of the background knowledge required, it's better suited to eighth grade and up. That said, it is very likely that advanced middle school readers of all ages (like the sixth grader to suggested it to me) will be reading it, so it is certainly a book teachers should place on their to-read lists.

And also it's incredible. That's the main reason teachers and everyone else should read it.

Set in 1943, in Nazi-occupied France, Code Name Verity opens with a female, un-named prisoner of war being tortured for information by a commanding SS officer. The reader quickly learns three things about the narrator: she's Scottish, she's an Allied spy, and she is selling information to pay for her life. Wein, who has been praised for her historical accuracy, walks a careful line of accurately depicting the conditions of an Allied prisoner of war, without being sensational. Thus, although all of the Nazi hideousness we expect is present, it is not so explicitly drawn as to make the book too painfully uncomfortable to read, or developmentally inappropriate for upper middle and high school students.

This is a heavy place to begin. And yet, the narrator's voice comes through with such clarity, such humor, that it tempers the horror of her ordeal. One recurring point of frustration for our narrator is that her captors persist in calling her English:

“[I'm] . . . filthy, it goes without saying, but whatever else the hell I am, I AM NOT ENGLISH.”
- Code Name Verity

"I'M SCOTTISH!"
- Code Name Verity

This serves a duel purpose of developing the narrator as a character while also lightening the tone of the prose.

The conceit of Code Name Verity is that our narrator is writing for her captors a prose account of how she came to be in Nazi-occupied France, revealing secret Allied code and protocols as she goes. This is buying her niceties in her captivity. Like her own clothes returned so she doesn't freeze in her cell. Over the course of her account, she tells of her friendship with an female Allied taxi pilot named Maddie, and it becomes evident that the entire novel is ultimately a backdrop for the story of their friendship.

There is little more I can say about the plot or the structure of Code Name Verity without ruining a massive twist for future readers. That said, I will comment on the strikingly warm and authentic way in which Wein depicts a female friendship.

The Bechdel Test for evaluating film asks viewers to consider the following in movies they watch:

1. Are there two or more female characters with names? 
2. Do these characters talk to each other? 
3. Do they talk about something other than men?

This is a perfectly acceptable test to apply to literature as well, particularly literature written for young adult women. Too often books aimed at young women define their female characters by their relationships with men (see: Gossip Girl, Twilight), or feature an otherwise almost exclusively-male cast (see: The Fault in Our Stars). For anyone upset with me for calling out John Green's tale of teenage love, consider the following:

• There are three female characters with names: Hazel Grace, Mrs. Lancaster, and Lidewij.
• They do talk to each other, but besides Hazel's medical condition, the only thing two things they talk about are Gus and Van Houten. Men.

Which is not to belittle The Fault in Our Stars. Only to say that when even some of the most celebrated and wide-read literature for young women barely passes the Bechdel Test, books like Code Name Verity stand out in stark and reassuring contrast.

The friendship our narrator (who is eventually named) and Maddie share is complex. They talk about everything from food to planes to affecting foreign accents and working for the British Royal Air Force (RAF). Though men enter their conversation at times, it is always as a side note, and the men most often discussed are the narrator's brothers in the context of her family. Both these women, as well as the others in this story (who shall at this time remain anonymous in the interests of keeping this post spoiler-free) are well-rounded, dynamic female characters in their own right, and seeing them in contact with other well-rounded, dynamic female characters is such a refreshing change.

The audiobook was beautifully read, and I recommend it to anyone who has limited time. However, after picking up a print copy of Code Name Verity, I realized that the book is really designed for (and rewards!) a traditional reader. There are many choices Wein makes with the text, print and structure of the traditionally bound book that give greater depth to the story.

As I've said, I think that Code Name Verity is a bit too mature a book for most upper elementary/lower middle school students. However, it is an incredibly beautiful, heartbreaking, and intellectually rewarding read for those ready for it.

And it will leave you on the floor. A little weepy, a little numb, a lot exhausted, but not regretting a single bit of the ride.

THREE TIMES LUCKY, by Sheila Turnage

Quick Facts:
- Newbery Honor Award Winner
- 256 pages
- Review based on audiobook:
  + read by Michal Friedman
  + 7 hrs, 57 min

". . . but dreams are shapeshifters. Get close and before you can lay a hand on them they change."

- Three Times Lucky

Before I say anything else about this book, I'm going to say this: do yourself a favor, and listen to the audiobook. Though I chose this format based on convenience (I've got a daily 2 hour commute), Michal Friedman's reading of Three Times Lucky brings heroine Moses ("Mo") LoBeau to life in a way I simply cannot imagine would have happened had I read the print version of the book. Don't get me wrong- author Sheila Turnage's writing is lively and engaging and does 95% of the work in terms of giving Mo an incredibly unique voice. However, it's a voice that begs to be read aloud, and Friedman does an absolutely brilliant job.

[As a disclaimer, quotes used in this review will be exact but will not include page numbers because, well, audiobooks do not have pages.]

Rising sixth-grader Mo LoBeau has a lot going for her: devoted adopted parents, a stalwart best friend, a community that supports her, and even an arch-enemy to keep things interesting. She's clever and funny and perceptive, and any reader who things that eleven year-olds "just don't talk like that!" hasn't ever met my youngest sister, Maggie.

The story kicks off with a local murder, which in Mo's small town of busybodies is much more than a newspaper headline. It's an event that causes waves throughout the entire town of Tupelo Landing. Distrustful of the newcomer detective that is put on the case, Mo and her best friend, Dale Earnhardt Johnson III, decide to form their own detective agency, the "Desperado Detectives" (Lost Pets Found for Free). They set off to solve the murder case on their own, and plenty of hijinks ensue.

There are reviewers who have been confused by the style of Three Times Lucky, pointing out that for a story revolving around a murder, there isn't much creepy or murder-esque about the book. It doesn't feel like a mystery. Instead, it's wacky and a bit off kilter, more concerned with character development than in the careful placement of clues that lead to a satisfying final reveal.

This is a valid point, as is the observation that there are many plot threads in Three Times Lucky that are left unresolved (and in some cases barely even addressed!) by the book's end. However, I'd argue this is more a function of the type of story Turnage is telling, rather than poor writing.

Hint: I don't believe she wasn't actually trying to write a traditional mystery.

I would classify Three Times Lucky as southern gothic literature for young readers. I'm dubbing it "Southern Gothic Lite". Goodreads defines southern gothic as that which "relies on supernatural, ironic, or unusual events to guide the plot." Furthermore, it uses said events "to explore social issues and reveal the cultural character of the American South." (Goodreads)

Let's consider the following plot drivers from Three Times Lucky:

+ Mo's Journey to Tupelo Landing: during a great flood eleven years prior to the events of the novel, Mo's mother supposedly placed an infant Mo on a floating sign, sending the baby adrift downstream to be discovered by strangers who name her Moses (get it?) and raise her as their own.

+ Mr. Jesse's Murder: the grumpy old man that no one particularly likes (or is particularly sad to see go, beyond the worry that his killing suggests there is a murderer on the prowl) turns up dead. In his own boat. A boat which Dale Earnhardt Johnson III had just returned to him.

+ The Colonel's Lack of Memory: the man who discovered an infant Mo floating downstream eleven years earlier cannot remember anything before that date.

I think it's fair to say that all qualify as unusual, with the first two qualifying as ironic. However, what is key is that these events are not simply used for comedic effect, but to introduce social issues and cultural character unique to the American South; in particular, the small-town, poor American South. Mo's journey to Tupelo Landing sets up Mo's very real struggle with what it means to be raised by people other than one's birth parents. Mr. Jesse's murder trigger's an exploration of small-town culture and interconnectedness. The Colonel's lack of memory allows the characters of the Colonel and Miss Lana to, for the majority of the novel, be defined wholly by their position within the community and position as town "newcomers". Turnage's larger-than-life characters, rather than simply reflecting southern stereotypes, are actually being used to reflect very real, and often hard, truths.

Perhaps the best example of this is Dale's older brother, Lavender. Lavender is a nineteen year-old race car driver, who walked out of his parents' house on his eighteenth birthday as a result of his father's drinking and violence. Mo adores Lavender, and he is indulgent of this adoration, and a protective and present big brother for Dale. In his availability to help Mo and Dale, Lavender can at times seem almost too conveniently mature for his age, unless one thinks about the southern social issue his character represents.

Lavender is the eldest in a poor, rural family with an abusive, alcoholic father. The sad truth is that children in these situations are forced to grow up at a very early age. They often shoulder an increasing emotional responsibility at home, and end up trapped by the very circumstances they dream of overcoming. Lavender's "career" as a race car driver and his subsequent abandonment of it isn't just a nod to the South's preoccupation with watching motorized vehicles drive in circles, it's a statement about the limited opportunities many of these kids face in the American South: being a driver made Lavender something of a local celebrity; it was a career that both Lavender and the reader could see taking him out of Tupelo Landing. And yet, by deciding build cars rather than drive them, Lavender essentially consigns himself to never leaving the small town, and family, into which he was born.

The tiny town that Lavender will likely never leave.

Now, Southern Gothic literature typically uses grotesque characters and focuses primarily on thoroughly unpleasant aspects of Southern culture. Turnage instead uses humorously over-the-top characters and focuses on those difficult realities of Southern culture with which a child can relate. This is appropriate for the upper elementary age she is targeting. Nevertheless, there is plenty of sharp, sad, adult humor in it as well, such as when eleven-year old Dale reveals that nineteen year-old Lavender told him he was "too pretty to do hard time" in prison. Children may simply laugh about a boy being described as "pretty" but adults will wince over children having the knowledge and experience to make that kind of statement.

Which is why I'm calling it Southern Gothic Lite. In tone, Three Times Lucky is closer to the David Altman comedy film "Cookie's Fortune" than it is the much darker work of Flannery O'Connor. And yet the image of an infant Mo floating down a Southern river, along with the biblical connection to the story of Moses, makes me suspect that Turnage is not unfamiliar with O'Connor's short story "The River".

Which is all to say that Three Times Lucky is a novel that must be taken on it's own terms. It is a comedic, dramatic, Southern Gothic mystery that is at once all and none of those things. Try to pin it down and you end up compromising (or, as I did, qualifying your label with "lite" as an easy out).