Review: Shadows on the Moon, by Zoë Marriott

Suzume lives a life of pleasure and comfort - when her mother's not around to scold her, anyway - until the day the Prince's men come to her home. Branded a traitor, her father is killed, along with her cousin and their household. Suzume survives through the kindness of an old servant, Youta, and and her own unknown shadow weaving powers. Suzume can weave shadows into any shapes she wants; she can literally become anyone she wishes to be.

But this power does not help her. Hounded from her stepfather's house, she drudges in his kitchen, unknown to him, hiding among the shadows. An act of revenge takes even that small shelter from her and she is forced to run into the city. Only one man in the country can save her; the Moon Prince. Only by becoming his consort can she lift the label of traitor from her family name.

There's only one obstacle. Otieno. The shadow weaving boy whose life seems intertwined with hers. To gain her revenge, to reclaim her name, Suzume must reject him. And time is running out...



First of all; this book is for older teens. It is a retelling of Cinderella, loosely, but this is no children's fairy tale. It covers, among other things, murder, self harm and becoming a courtesan.

With that out of the way, this is also a beautiful, lyrical story. It's deeply embedded in Japan's feudal past, but not so much that it becomes impenetrable. Suzume is a fascinating character - a heroine whose deepest desire is to commit murder in the name of revenge? But it works here. You really want Suzume to succeed. Her allies are fascinating - Youta was my favourite, as you can never quite tell what his intentions are.

A fascinating, beautiful book, one I'll happily reread for many years to come.



     An overwhelming surge of anger crashed through me, bursting in my head and chest and limbs until I stood up straight, vibrating with it. My body still trembled, but the fear  – that fear which had choked me for so long – was gone. 

      They had done this to me. They were liars. Traitors, cowards and murderers, and yet I was running from them. They had killed my father. They had killed my cousin, the sister of my heart. They had taken everything – everything – from me.

     Why had I run?

     What did I have left to lose?

     I knew then that I would die that night. I did not care. I would die, but I would make them suffer first. I dropped to my knees, scrabbling in the dirt of the herb garden for the sharp fragments of stone that edged the borders. I would have used anything. Any weapon was good enough. I felt as if I could tear out my enemy's throat with my teeth, if only I could get close enough.

     I would wait, here in the dark, hidden from everyone. The only one who could see me was Terayama–san. He would find me, and when he did, I would not run. I would not give him the satisfaction. I would let my weaving fall, and I would scream out the truth fopr everyone to hear. When he reached me I would put out his eyes.

     For my father. For Aimi. For myself. For all of us. 

Review: Little Manfred, by Michael Morpurgo

Charley has never really understood why her mother is so fond of the toy dog, Little Manfred. She doesn't know why her mother cries when the toy is broken. But in 1966, just after the World Cup, she and her brother Alex meet two strangers on the beach below their house. Strangers with a story to tell...


Little Manfred was written for the Imperial War Museum. It's a (slightly) fictionalized account of a true story; Little Manfred was made by a German POW for the children of the family he was lodged with. Morpurgo's beautiful account captures the futility of war, and how even in extra ordinary circumstances, people can make ordinary lives.

Illustrations by Michael Foreman.

"The ship was already turning and steaming away. We had to stand there and watch. We left nearly 2,000 men to drown, not the enemy to us anymore, who had sunk the Hood, but fellow sailors. For one sailor to leave another to drown, no matter what uniform he wears, cries out against all he believes in, against all traditions of the sea. To leave one would be bad enough. To leave 2,000...I still see those men in the water every day of my life."

"But you did pick up nearly a hundred of us, Marty," said Walter. "I have told you often that you must never forget this. On the Hood, they never got a chance - only three survived."

For a while, neither of them spoke, but looked out to sea, each lost in his own thoughts. The silence was broken by a pair of gulls, screeching and swooping overhead.

I said the first thing that came into my head. "My dad says that every gull you hear is the ghost of a dead sailor, letting you know he's still alive."

...

"I also do not believe in ghosts," Walter told him, "but I like this idea of your father's  very much. "

Review: rot and Ruin, by Jonathon Maberry

Benny Imura is fifteen. Fourteen years ago, on First Night, he saw his parents killed by zombies. He's always kind of resented his older brother, who ran with him instead of trying to save their parents.

But now Benny's fifteen, and the rules of their enclosed little town say he has to get a job. And the only job he can find is working with his brother as a zombie killer.

It's not how he imagined it.

It's much, much worse.



rot and Ruin is unique among the zombie genre; the zombies aren't the bad guys. Sure, they'll eat you if they can, but there's no malice in it, any more than there is in the mosquito that bites you. Zombies are people who caught a disease, were bitten by zombies or died of other causes.

Of course, not all the characters share this view. Benny doesn't. But he grows and learns through the novel, and watching him is fascinating. Apart from a couple of speeches from his older brother, Benny is left to come to his own decisions, and through entirely natural growth his entire worldview has flipped by the end of the book.

This is the first of either a two or four book series, depending on who you believe. Either way, I'll be looking forward to the next book.




Benny shook his head. 'Doing this over and over again would drive me crazy. How do you do it?'

Tom turned to him as if that was the question he'd been waiting for all day. 'It keeps me sane,' he said. 'Do you understand?'

Benny thought about it for a long moment. Birds sang in the trees and the cicadas buzzed continually. 'Is it because you knew what the world was before?'

Tom nodded.

'Is it because if you didn't...then maybe no one would?'

Tom nodded again.

'It must be lonely.'

'It is.' Tom glanced at him. 'But I always hoped you'd want to join me. To help me do what I do.'

'I...don't know if I can.'

'That's always going to be your choice.'

Review: Flip, by Martyn Bedford

Alex wakes up one morning in someone else's room, in someone else's home, in someone else's
life. Philip - Flip - is his age almost to the minute, but that's the only thing they have in common. Except that Alex is now stuck in his life with no way out - and Flip is stuck in Alex's.


There's an odd creepiness underlaying this story. I have to say I was very relieved to find I'm past the age where PE - psychic evacuation - might be an issue. Imagine waking to find yourself in a country where you don't speak the language? The book is clear that while muscle memory may carry over, memories don't. Alex finds himself hurled into a new world without warning and with no map along the way. With only one person on his side, the weight on his shoulders is sometimes overwhelming, and the way he deals with it is very realistic.

The story touches on some moral issues - what is the soul, what is the mind, what's the difference, can your soul really be dragged from body to body - but thankfully keeps them in the background instead of preaching about them. Flip is a fantastic debut from Mr Bedford and I'll be looking forward to his next novel.

And I love the cover - the back cover is a mirror of the front, bar Flip's eyes being open - and the way the chapter headers are mirrored. It's a nice touch.

Parents be warned; there are direct and indirect references to suicide, and some kissing and drunkeness by teens.


The typical, all-too-familiar mood swings of the new PE was how Rob saw it.

"One day you feel great, like you've got a whole new lease of life; the next day you're so far down you could top yourself." Rob ran his fingers through his fake yellow hair, causing it to spike up even more than usual.

"Did you ever think about that?" Alex asked. "Topping yourself?"

Rob held his gaze. "Alex, there isn't a psychic evacuee who hasn't."

That shut them both up for a while.

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Review: Avalon High, by Meg Cabot

Ellie is used to new schools. Her professor parents have been dragging her around the world for years. But this time is different. This time, she's going to fit in.

Avalon High isn't like other schools. On the surface it's all the same; jocks, cheerleaders, that one kid who's always angry about something and takes it out on everything around him. Ellie doesn't mind, though, because she's met Will, the most perfect guy ever.

Too bad he has a girlfriend. {Although she is seeing his best friend on the side.} And his step brother seems to hate his guts. {Although they're actually half brothers, not steps.} And the mystical Order of the Bear, ancient protectors of King Arthur, seem to think he's about to rise again. {Unless the Dark Side gets to him first...}



The recent Disney movie took a lot of liberties with this, one of Meg Cabot's best novels. The book is a fun read, and it's interesting trying to figure out exactly who everyone is. The samples from The Lady of Shalott at the top of each chapter give a hint to what's going to happen, which is a nice touch. Will is a genuinely nice guy, and Ellie a fascinating narrator.

I've heard that Meg Cabot's history is not very accurate, but that doesn't detract from the novel at all. My personal favourite of hers, and her best selling.



As often thro' the purple night,
Below the starry clusters bright,
Some bearded meteor, burning bright,
Moves over Shalott.



'Oh, hey, Elle,' Will said when he saw me.

It was a sign of how freaked I truly was by what I'd just seen that my heartstrings didn't so much as quiver at hearing him call me Elle.

'Hi,' I said faintly.

'Have you seen Jen?' Will wanted to know. 'Someone said they saw her come up here.'

'Jen?' I echoed. My gaze, though I tried not to let it, strayed towards the closed door to the spare bedroom. 'Um...'

What was I supposed to say? I mean, really?