Twilight by Stephenie Meyer

Synopsis: Teenaged and angst-ridden Bella moves to Forks, Washington—a perpetually rainy town, to live with her estranged dad. Immediately, she meets and falls in love with Edward, who is—cue drum roll—a vampire. A teenaged and angst-ridden vampire. She falls, he rescues her, they deal with drama (most of it created by each other), they discuss their feelings. Lather, rinse, repeat. Oh, the plot: some bad vampire becomes fixated on Bella. But none of that is important.

The Good: Man, here I was, preaching about how I tend to read little-known authors and books. But between Harry Potter and Twilight, I’m losing all credibility. But with all the hoopla surrounding this book, I had to read it (and, um, see the movie). And, well, it’s catchy. Super catchy and almost worthy of the attention it has received. Their blossoming love story is very sweet and absorbing to read. The writing isn’t bad—about what you should expect for young adult fiction. The secondary characters have their own lives and personalities (even if they are generally focused on one or two aspects of that life: Charlie and his sports, Jessica and her obsession with Mike, Jacob and his car-building). I especially liked to read about Bella’s burgeoning relationship with Charlie. Finally, I appreciate that Meyer created her own facets of vampire lore. How boring would it be to read about yet another creature who would toast in the sun, sleep during the day, or shy away from crosses?

The Bad: Well, any bashing review you’ve read is right. Edward’s behavior borders on stereotypical, abusive boyfriend: he stalks her, tells her what to do, treats her like a child. That was a little irksome to constantly read. Bella’s ability to literally stumble through an entire book is mind-boggling. She’s a pushover and a martyr. Nevertheless, her character is endearing in its way. The main characters tend to be whiny, dramatic, and think they know everything. But, um, have you ever met a teenager? They are whiny, dramatic, and think they know everything. While reading this, I wasn’t especially annoyed at these aspects, because they are so typical of teenagers. Finally, this is definitely a Mary Sue novel: the average girl starts a new school and is immediately popular. The boys even fight over her. In keeping with the Mary Sue tradition, I wouldn’t be surprised if she turns out to have super powers or talents.

Do No Harm by Gregg Andrew Hurwitz

Synopsis: Clyde, a guy with a slew of mental and physical problems, attacks some nurses with a dose of alkali in the face, sending the hospital into a fear frenzy. David Spier is a prominent ER doctor who gets caught in the middle of the frenzy, when he chooses to treat the captured, but injured Clyde. To complicate matters, there are vengeful cops, corrupt hospital employees, and a certain looooooove interest.

The Good: “Do No Harm” was fast-paced, suspenseful, and interesting. It reminded me a lot of John Sandford’s novels in that the characters were well-rounded (a little too well-rounded in some cases) and the story fleshed out but concise. Despite the author’s leaning towards technical, no-frills writing, there were moments of flowing descriptions, realistic dialogue, and honest emotions. For example, “David let the beer dangle from two fingers and wondered if it made him look younger. He took a sip and remembered he didn’t like beer.”

The Bad: It. Wouldn’t. End. It just kept going and going, plot twist after plot twist. And halfway through, the protagonist started to irk me with his desire to always be involved in the drama. Midlife crisis, maybe? Also, there were many unfinished plot lines. Why was Rhonda, the mentally retarded woman, involved? To make Clyde more complex? Why couldn’t the book be from Detective Dalton’s point of view? He was, by far, the most sympathetic, interesting, and underused character. Hint, hint, Mr. Author.

Roots: The Saga of an American Family by Alex Haley

Synopsis: Roots follows a family through the generation, beginning with Kunta Kinte--an African slave--and ending with the author, Alex Haley. While searching for wood to make a drum, Kunta Kinte is viciously kidnapped from Africa and brought to America as a young boy. He tries many times to escape, and eventually comes to terms (albeit grudgingly) with his status as a slave. He marries a fellow slave and has a child, Kisey. And so begins the family lineage, with each generation telling the story of the next descendent. Surrounding the individual stories are the affairs of the time period: the American Revolution, the Civil War, and so on.

The Good: I really enjoyed the story of Kunta Kinte. That was, by far, the strongest part of the book. His home village, people, and customs were so well-developed, it was not hard to get wrapped up in the storyline. The description of the voyage to America, the treatment of the slaves, the realization that he wouldn't see his family again...it made me want to cry and yell "Down with the white folk!" Okay, not really...but it did make me want to cry. Kunta is given a full personality, with quirks and flaws and a distant likeability. I also liked to see the family evolve over the ages, to see how they are affected by the current events. In addition to reading about the various family members, I was also interested in the outside characters: the slave owners, their own families, and slaves from other plantations.

The Bad: Once the storyline of Kunta ended (far too abruptly, in my opinion, but I guess that was the nature of slavery), I just wasn't quite interested or invested in the subsequent characters, who seemed either bland or outright unlikable. It seemed that the farther down the line the book went, the less developed the characters became. Until finally, we reach the author's grandmother and mother and we never really learn anything about them. Even the author himself is a secondary character. To his credit, though, my interest re-sparked toward the end of the book, when the author narrates his journey to discovering his lineage. I would have liked to see some kind of resolution or winding down of one character's perspective, before moving on to the next. However, I can recognize that that approach might have taken away from the realism of the book.

Conversations with the Fat Girl by Liza Palmer

Synopsis: typical chick-lit. Really, that is enough to give anyone who has ever read chick-lit a good idea of the plot and characters. We have 1) the main character who is unsatisfied with her love life, her career, and her weight; 2) the love interest, who seems perfect except a few flaws which are meant to be more endearing than off-putting; 3) the kooky best friend; 4) the "dysfunctional" family; 5) the happy ending. Maggie is a barista who is highly qualified for a museum internship, but lacks the confidence to apply. She's in love with a guy at her work, but lacks the confidence to make a move. And so on.

The Good: I liked the sub-plot involving Olivia, her childhood best friend who has since evolved into somebody less likeable. Olivia used to be overweight--something that initially bonded her and the narrator as girls--but opted for gastric bypass surgery to quickly lose the extra weight. She built up a perfect world for herself...one that doesn't really allow room for Maggie. So, that was a pretty realistic and positive aspect of the book. I liked Dominic, the love interest. He also seemed genuine, with his nerdy behavior and shyness about girls. He's not the romantic, self-assured, successful hunk that is prevalent in many chick-lit novels. He's a 30-year-old busboy who works on dolls in his spare time, which is a character I can appreciate.

The Bad: Have you ever had a friend who seemingly complains nonstop (and not just about books, smart ass)? Now, imagine that you have a free pass to explore their inner thoughts. I imagine you would hear a whiny inner monologue that sounds a lot like this book. "This is why my landlord sucks." "This is why my boss sucks." "This is why my coworkers suck." Moreover, the narrator uses her weight as an excuse at every turn. I understand that this can be a big issue for some people...but the relentless self-pitying doesn't make for great reading material. I wanted to slap Maggie around a bit, tell her to either get over it or do something about it. I really should stop reading chick-lit.

Momzillas by Jill Kargman

Synopsis: Hannah Allen is a recent California-import to New York City. She's the young mother to two-year-old Violet and the loving (read: idolizing) wife to Josh. She enters the strange world of crazed SAHMs (stay-at-home-moms), playdate competitiveness, and money-obsessed state of being. She must juggle the expectations of her demanding mother-in-law and her new "friends" while trying to stay true to who she is. Throw in a spicy ex-professor for an even more complicated plot.

The Good: This was guilty pleasure reading, for sure. It was light and frivolous, as most chick-lit books tend to be. No worries here that upon finishing, your brain will be wracked with anything more troubling than fluffy clouds and pretty flowers. Since that was the kind of mild reading I was after, it fulfilled that desire. The "research" the narrator puts in to learning about momzillas is interesting and entertaining enough to keep me tuned in until end. She's sassy and witty and seems real enough that I felt genuine sympathy for her plight...well, as much sympathy as I can summon for someone who complains about how hard it is to find decent housing in NYC for their measly budget of $1.5M. Right.

The Bad: I wanted to strangle the narrator for much of the book. While I enjoyed the witty repartee of Hannah most of the time, I got annoyed quickly with the almost-constant slang and internet-speak that's littered throughout the book ("OMG" and "whatev," for example). Do people above the age of 16 actually talk like that? It just didn't seem right to hear 30-somethings saying these things, in person or in the irritating instant message exchanges. So many of the characters seem overly dramatic and depicted as either angelic or spawn of the devil. Aside from the childlike language (which, let's face it, is almost expected of chick-lit), I found the narrator's dominating traits annoying. Namely, her idolization of her husband and child, as well as her pushover tendency. Half of the book is dedicated to how much she adores being a mother to her little angel or how she can't live without her husband. When she's not waxing poetic about them, she's allowing people of all ages to walk over her, while thinking of mean mental retorts.

The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde

Synopsis: Dorian Gray is a young, beautiful man who sits for a portrait with his painter friend, Basil. The result is remarkable, but between the beauty of the painting and the advice of his vain friend, Lord Henry, Dorian's good nature is immediately changed. He becomes self-centered and focused only on the pleasures and beautiful things in life. He plunges into a world of sin and vice, but shows none of the effects physically. Instead, it is the painting that changes to show the deterioration of his soul.

The Good: I really like to read Oscar Wilde's philosophies. I may not always (or even often) agree, but I like reading them, nonetheless. He takes such an extreme position and sticks it out. He writes beautifully, ornately even. In fact, that may be the word to describe everything about this book: ornate. The writing, the characters, the descriptive prose, the conversations...everything is ornate. And in a book about living and admiring only that which is ornate, I can't imagine a more fitting style. I enjoyed the base plot line about the portrait which reflects Gray's deteriorating beauty, as well as his plunge into sin. While we get a good sense of many characters, we never really get to know any of them. I assume this is a device Wilde must have known he was employing, since it, too, seems fitting for the book. Just as both Wilde and Lord Henry suggests art should be, the book is beautiful but superficial.

The Bad: It reminded me a lot of Anna Karenina because of its tendency to drone on and on about subjects which aren't really necessary to the story itself. Do I really need to know all about gems and their qualities and histories to know that Dorian is becoming greedier by the year? I mean, Wilde could have written, "And Dorian became greedier by the year" and saved about ten pages. Sure, it's not as splashy, but it's easier on the eyes.

From the Corner of His Eye by Dean Koontz

Synopsis: This is the story of a cast of very different characters and how their lives intersect. Agnes is a young single mother raising an extraordinary boy named Bartholomew. Barty is rendered blind at the age of three, but displays a laundry list of talents and gifts. Celestina is an artist who takes on the responsibility of raising Angel, a little girl with abilities of her own, after tragedy strikes her family. Meanwhile, Detective Vanadium and all-around crazy guy Junior are caught up in a game of cat-and-mouse that manages to bring together all the characters. Throw in the concept of parallel universes and you have this epic novel that somewhat mirrors Stephen King's The Stand.

The Good: I'm a fan of Dean Koontz and his writing abilities overall. While I was not impressed with the book, I was kept interested enough to read it to the end. I enjoyed the idea of parallel universes, even if I didn't always understand it. Also, the storyline of Barty losing his eyes and vision was extremely well-done and really tugged at my heartstrings.

The Bad: He makes the characters realistic, if a little too perfect. Once again, the trend I'm seeing with novels of late--one that I call Higgins-Clarkitis--makes its appearance here, as well. The good characters are overly good and well-mannered and blah blah blah. The bad characters are almost entirely bad and without morals. This effect gives it a very one-dimensional feel. It makes me want to say, "I'm not stupid. You don't have to spell out which are the good guys and which are the bad." In life, no one (or at least, no one I've met) is all good or all bad. Everyone has flaws and everyone has aspects of goodness to them.

The Spoiler: ******************************************************
I really didn't enjoy the ending at all. It was way too neat. The group of people find each other and get along fabulously. They live next door to each other, they are all extremely successful in their respective ventures, they find love within their group, the subsequent generations also have this other-worldly bond with one another, and so on. Could we have just one scene of Celestina pulling aside her mother to dish out a little gossip about the angelic Agnes? Something to take away this image of perfection the author has created? To make it even worse, Koontz goes out of his way to point out that there is no premarital sex whatsoever...even among the adults. Clearly, to allow consenting, loving yet unmarried adults to give in and have sex would tarnish their saintly image. Oh brother.