Book Review: Grasshopper Jungle by Andrew Smith

Grasshopper Jungle by Andrew Smith
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

All the best books are about everything. You know what I mean?

Grasshopper Jungle is no exception. This book is about smoking cigarettes with your best friend, finding condoms and bibles in dresser drawers, grimacing lemur masks, plastic pink flamingos, shrinking balls, little blue kayaks, unstoppable corn, horny teenage boys, giant praying mantises and the end of the world.

And they all cross under our feet.

What this book is really about is connections. How the things we do and the decisions we make have an impact. How history tends to repeat itself no matter what. About how we keep doing the same sh*t over and over and why? Well, because we're human and that's what humans do because there are stupid among us. Because we don't look closely enough at those connections. We don't study the past to see where we went wrong and fix it. That's why.

Austin Szerba is your typical teenage boy. Sort of. He likes recording history, skateboarding and smoking cigarettes with his best friend Robby Brees. He's in love with his girlfriend Shann Collins. He's got both his parents, a brother fighting in Afghanistan, and a dog Ingrid, who lost her vocal cords when she was just a puppy. He's horny for Shann, but he also wonders if he might be gay for Robby and sh*t like that. He's not sure what to do about it.

Through a series of seemingly unconnected events, Unstoppable Soldiers, in the form of giant praying mantises, are unleashed on the unsuspecting town of Ealing, Iowa. All they want to do are eat and screw (not unlike teenage boys) and impregnate the female which will lead to the world being taken over by these Unstoppable Soldiers and the eventual end of the human race.

By digging through history, Austin connects the dots and finds that only he and Robby can stop the giant bugs and save the world. And nobody knows anything about it.

Grasshopper Jungle is weird, inappropriate, disgusting and one of the best books I've read in a long time. Its innovative, fresh and fun. Austin's voice is one of the most original I have read in YA, ever. Period.

Perfect book for boys, although, the appeal of this book is far reaching. Of course, I caution, not for those looking for a "clean" read. This book, like I said, talks about horny teens, masturbation, sex, etc. Typical teen stuff. If that's not your thing, stay away.

This is the truth. Andrew Smith has just become one of my favorite YA authors and I cannot wait to read more of his work.

Big thumbs up on this one. You know what I mean?

View all my reviews

Wednesday WIP

How about...hmmm, no idea. I don't have anything with me. Maybe I'll dig out something old, or write something of the cuff that I've had in my head for while.  BRB...

You know what's weird, I was just thinking about this WIP the other day. I've not written much on it, but the idea was conceived in the aftermath of the tornadoes that barreled through Alabama, Arkansas, Georgia, Mississippi, Tennessee, and Virginia two years ago. I'd read a newspaper clipping about some debris that traveled 100 miles and came up with a story idea. The premise is a journal that flies 50 miles to the front yard of a teenage boy. He reads it and gets involved in the writer's life only to find that she eventually wants to kill herself. So, he wants to find her to stop her. Anyway, I'd lost the beginning of that 1st draft, then remembered I'd posted it here a while back, so I'm posting it again. It's the first entry of that journal. Here ya go.

March 18, 2011 

I’m tired.  Tired of living in this sardine can of a home with its lack of windows, torn curtains, and the smell of dog piss emanating throughout.  I’m tired of going through the motions as daughter, sister, and friend when I feel like nothing more than a speck of dust on a window pane ready to be wiped clean away.  I’m tired of the snobs and flakes and posers at school who think they’re either better than you, smarter than you, or more pathetic than you and take pride in it.  When did we come to strive for depression.  The Emo boy and girls with their dark makeup and their skinny jeans brood in the hallways acting as if their blue-collar lives are pure hell while they listen to their iPods, play on their Xboxes, and talk on their cell phones.

They don’t know what it truly is to ache.  What it’s like to watch your dad walk out the door and never come back.  To watch your mom spend every waking moment with a drink in one hand and a cigarette in the other.  To be the sole provider for your family, the mother to your sister.  To be mocked and bullied at school because of it all.

And this journal, and the art, it’s not enough anymore.  I can’t do it.  I’m ready to free fall from life, to plunge into the unknown.

I’m ready to let death take me away from this place.  I don’t care what’s waiting for me on the other side.  It has to be better than this . . .

WIP Wednesday: Triggered

This is the new title of the novel I once called Lockdown. I can thank J. Anderson Coats for that. I wrote this book a few years back, in fact, I think I wrote it for NaNoWriMo 2009, so it's rough, really rough. I've decided to do a major overhaul on it and perhaps put it out as my next indie project after Dissected. We'll see. Anyway, here's a snippet, keep in mind, it's rough. Setting the scene, it's a book about a school shooting, these kids are on their bus on the way to school.

Cameron, a junior, was absolutely gorgeous.  His skin was like dark chocolate and he had these bright penetrating hazel eyes.  With a tall, muscular, lean body, he was a perfect fit on the basketball team.  A ready made star.  Only he didn’t play basketball, he played the drums.  Instead of being on the court, he was in the stands, in my opinion, a likeable choice.  He seemed like a cool guy, friendly with everyone, always cracking jokes and acting goofy.   He and Brady were best friends.  He sat with Kimberly across from Brady and Kat.  Cameron and Kimberly’s sister were a couple, another thing for her to be jealous of.

     “Hey Brady,” Cameron said.

     “Yeah.”

     “Why do men find it difficult to make eye contact?”

     “I don’t know, why?”

     “Because tits don't have eyes.”  Brady just shook his head.  He probably wanted to laugh, but dared not with Kat sitting right next to him. Cameron laughed at his own joke; a few giggles broke out throughout the bus.  “I have another one.  What did the blonde say when she opened the box of Cheerios?”

     Kat, being a blonde, shot Cameron a dirty look.  “I don’t know, what did she say,” Brady asked.

     “Oh look! Doughnut seeds!"  Cameron again laughed like a lunatic.

     “Cameron,” Kat said.

     “Uh-oh, I’m in trouble, huh,” Cameron said.

     “Kat ignored the question, “Why are blonde jokes always so short?”

     “I don’t know, why,” Cameron asked.

     “So guys can remember them.”

     “That’s a good one.”

     “ You know the problem with most men, Cameron?”

     “No, what?”

     “The problem is they’re assholes.  The problem with most women is that they put up with those assholes.  Cher said that.” 

     “Ooh, Cher’s smart.  You got served,” Kimberly said to Cameron.

     “So I did.  But who’s Cher?” 

     “You’re not serious,” Kat said.

     “What?”

     They all laughed together, happy little group.

     So many of the kids on the bus don’t even seem real, like they are imitations of one another, plastic and trying to be something other than what is real, a character in the teen movie of the week, a stereotype, a caricature of who they’re trying to portray.  In some ways, I suppose it’s expected, on other ways, it’s just pathetic.

     The bus driver closed the doors and began rolling down the street.  Angel was missing, Cameron’s girlfriend, Kimberly’s little sister.  She was my favorite to watch because she moved with this smooth elegance you only see on catwalks.  In fact, it was smoother than that even; it’s as if she glided.  She was beautiful enough to walk down a catwalk one day, with her long shiny black hair, her flawless brown skin, her deep brown eyes, and tall, slender frame.  Her name was fitting, as she was not only beautiful, but also soulful and kind.  If I were to have a friend, I’d want it to be Angel.   At first I was sad not to have seen her that day, but realized soon enough, she was one of the lucky ones.

    

Monkey Madness Monday: Writing in Scenes

 Do you ever write in scenes? I've only done it once before, of course, I never finished that book.

I find that with this fantasy book I'm writing, I'm going to have to. Because it spans centuries, I'm having a difficult time transitioning from one section to another.

I'd love to know your thoughts on this and how it has worked for you.

Happy Monday ya'll.

RAVENS!!! Yeah baby!

Photo credit: deVos / Foter.com / CC BY-NC-SA

Writing Wednesday: An Unbalanced Line

Tell me what you think.

He glanced at me again. “You should back up, stay out of the way.”

“Yes, sir.”  I saluted, watched for a minute or two then asked, “Dad, why do you practice in Spring, anyway?”

“What?” He turned, an expression of irritation across his face. “Because there’s only a few months left until the season,” he snapped. “Now hush up, girl. I can’t sit here and entertain you. I’ve got a job to do.”

I went back and leaned against the wall, watching the team scrimmage. I never really understood the appeal of the game. The Center—would hike the ball and the Quarterback, who always wore a red shirt so he wouldn’t get tackled, would catch it. Then the Quarterback would throw it, hand it off, pitch it, or run it himself. All the while, his opponents would lunge at him, trying to get through his offensive line.  The other defenders ran down field, chasing after the receivers. I thought it seemed like a simple game. As I watched though, I realized how many plays needed to be memorized, and how you always had to be watching and be on your toes, how you needed to be inside the head of your opponents, figuring out and beating them to their next move.  There was more to it than meets the eye.    

    “Hey, Dad, is there something I can do to help?”

     He gave me a quick glance. “Uh, not really, just keep a safe distance.” And so I did and kept watching, keeping a special eye on the quarterback, who was mesmerizing. He seemed to have the most difficult job on the field. He had to be fast and strong, and have good reflexes. He had to be able to see everything, in front of him, coming up next to him. He had to have eyes in the back of his head.  He had to be quick and accurate, graceful, yet tough. He was the leader, the captain, the hero. I was in awe of the responsibility he held. If he failed, the team was sure to fail.  And the quarterback was also the player my dad paid the most attention to. It didn’t suck that he was totally hot, either.

     During one play, the quarterback—Brady Briggs— who I immediately crushed over—threw a beautiful pass down the field. The receiver went up for the ball, but he tipped it off his fingers, popping it up in the air and out of bounds. It landed at my feet. I bent down and picked it up, flipped it end over end a few times. As I turned that ball over and over in my hands, I got an idea. One that would help me and my dad get along, to become like a real father and daughter.

     My dad came and snatched the ball away from me and tossed it back out to the quarterback. I looked up at him and smiled, knowing in my heart that this would bring us together.  My dad looked at me funny and said, “You look like you’re up to something.”

     “Chu—no.” He still looked at me suspiciously.

     I nodded and went back to watching the practice, plotting in my head all the while.

Monkey Madness Monday: One More Day

Tomorrow is the day and I'm pretty sure I'm still in a state of freaking out.

I couldn't fall asleep last night as I ran through my head the people that need to be thanked and what I'm going to say at the release party tomorrow.

What am I going to wear?

It snowed, will I be able to get out to get any last minute things done? I have books to pick up. And cookies.

Will people not show up because of the snow? If not, I guess I have 150 cookies to eat myself.

And then there's another party and out of town guests. And I have to clean my house. I have to get my kids to clean their rooms, I have to clean out my car (which I should really make the kids do since most that garbage and crap is theirs).

No, I'm not pretty sure I'm freaking out, I KNOW I'm freaking out. But, no matter what happens - I've nothing to wear, no one shows up, my house doesn't get spotless, it is what it is. Some things are just out of our control. I'm fallible, maybe I'll forget someone. Maybe I'll drop the cookies on my way into the library. Maybe I'll forget my camera, or my talk in 3 x 5 cards.

Maybe I'll forget to breathe. Thank god our breath doesn't forget us and forces it's way out when we've held it too long.

*takes deep breath*

Tuesday Tips: The Comma

Learning when to use the comma, semi-colon, colon, ellipse, and em-dash.  It's difficult for sure.  I still don't have it down.

Today we will talk about the comma.  I tend to overuse it.  I often use it in places it doesn't belong, and don't use it in places in which is does. 

The comma tells the reader to pause. Here are some guidelines about using the comma, which I gathered from Punctuation Made Simple.

1) Between Items in a Series

When you are listing three or more items in a sentence, simply place a comma between each member of the list. Here is an example:

Megan needs her computer, a notepad, a pen, a thumb drive, and a thesaurus in order to write a novel.

In that sentence it's pretty clear where the comma should be used.  However, modern writers believe that the conjunction (and, but, or) does the same thing as a comma: it marks the place between two items in the set so it's not needed between the last and second to last items. As a result, you now have the option to choose whether to include the final comma. If  your list is rather complex, however, omitting the comma may confuse the reader about where the second-to-last item leaves off and the last begins. In this case, of course, you would want to include the comma in order to avoid confusion.

2) Between Two Sentences

Many times a semicolon is used to connect two sentences. However, more often we glue two sentences together with a comma and conjunction (such as and or but). In fact, if you examine a document you have written recently, you are likely to find many such sentences; they’re so common that you don’t even realize you are writing them. When you do put two sentences together with a conjunction, you must also include a comma. That is, the conjunction and comma are equivalent to a semicolon when you’re connecting sentences. Here are three examples:

Megan has just finished her novel, and she has begun work on another novel.

The sentence above is made up of two sentences glued together with a comma and conjunction. For example, the first sentence is made up of the following:

Megan has just finished her novel.

She has begun work on another novel.

All you need remember is this: when you’re connecting two sentences with a conjunction, you must also include a comma because the conjunction and comma work together as a team.

Often you may use a conjunction but not have a complete sentence on both sides of it. In this case you do not need a comma. For example, you could easily rewrite the above sentences so that one part of each sentence is not a full sentence:

Megan has just finished her novel and  has begun work on another novel.

Because in the above examples you do not have full sentences on both sites of the conjunction, there’s no need to include a comma.

One last bit of advice: if your sentence is very short (perhaps 5 to 10 words), you  have the option of omitting the comma. Your reader can usually understand a short sentence more readily than a long one, and therefore you would not need a comma for readability. 

3) To Attach Words to the Front or Back of Your Sentence

Most of the sentences we compose really consist of a short core sentence with many details added to that core sentence. Frequently, we add information to sentences by attaching one or more words to the front or back of the core sentence. You don’t need to memorize seven or eight rules naming each of the different structures you can add to your sentence. Instead, remember that when you add information to the front or back of a sentence, you will want to alert your want readers in order to help them clearly understand your message. Here are four examples:

In her bid for world domination, Megan spent every dime she had on a fully equipped laboratory.

 Even when you add one word, such as certainly, at the beginning of a sentence, you want your reader to know where the real sentence begins. This is why you place the comma there.

4) On Both Sides of a Nonessential Component

Often, you will insert a group of words into the middle of a sentence. Sometimes this group of words will need to be set off by commas from the rest of the sentence, and sometimes you will not need commas. In order to tell whether you need commas, you must make a judgment about whether the added words are essential to the meaning of the sentence or whether they simply provide extra detail. 

In order to tell a reader that a group of words is a nonessential component, you place commas in front and in back of the group of words. However, if omitting the group of words would drastically change the meaning of the sentence, then those words are not a component; rather, they are essential to the meaning of the sentence. In that case, you would not want to put commas on either side of the component so that the reader knows that those words are absolutely important to the meaning of the sentence. For example, look carefully at the following sentences:

Megan Bostic, who is a young adult author, will release her first novel in January.

Authors who write for young adults often explore teen issues.

 In the first sentence, the information about me being a young adult author has no bearing on the main idea of the sentence: that I'm releasing my first novel in January.

The second sentence contains information that is absolutely essential to the meaning of the sentence: “who write for you adults.” If you were to place commas around these words, you would be telling the reader that the words constitute a nonessential component. For example, look at this sentence:

Authors, who write for young adults, often explore teen issues.

This sentence tells the reader that the main idea is that “authors often explore teen issues".  Not all authors explore teen issues, but by enclosing the information in commas you have said that they do.

And thus ends my (and Punctuation Made Simple's) lesson about the comma. Come back next week for a lesson about the semi-colon.

Writing Wednesday: Finding Nirvana

For today's Writing Wednesday, I've decided to pull out a novel I started that will more than likely never see the light of day.  And PLEASE don't compare it to Mama Mia, I've already been told the plot is similar, though I've never seen the movie myself.  Without further ado, the opening paragraphs of Finding Nirvana.

      My name is Lanie and I’m a grunge addict.  Yes I’m well aware that it’s 2010, and grunge was so 1990’s, but it wasn’t really a choice, it was a way of life.  At times I felt like I was born a decade too late.  I would have totally fit in with the Seattle grunge scene, but that was my mom’s life, not mine.  So deep into that scene, she chose to name me Layne Veddar Cobain Cornell Miller.  Ridiculous I know, but she couldn’t make up her mind between her favorite singers from Alice in Chains, Pearl Jam, Nirvana, and Soundgarden, respectively.  I decided when I started school that I would go by Lanie.  It sounded more, well, like a girl.

       When it comes to my dad, things get a bit more complicated.  You see, I don’t really know who he is, well, I kind of do.  He could be one of three guys, the first being Kenny James.  He’s a totally smart way cool dude who manages a couple local bands, the most “famous” if you can call it that being Toke.  The second might be BJ Dubois, the drummer for Drop Dead Lead, and no I don’t know if that’s his real name, or if he took the initials just to be funny or clever, which he’s neither though he thinks he is.  He’s a bit socially retarded, but he’s nice, and not bad to look at.  The last contestant on “Who’s My Dad” is Doug “Spaz” Harris, singer of The Deceased.  If you knew Doug, you’d know exactly why they called him Spaz.  First of all, he’s got Tourettes, so he tenses up and blurts out the most insane funniest shit at times, also, when he’s on stage, he dances like he’s having a seizure.

     These three are pretty much interchangeable to me, all white, all in their late thirties, all still living life as if they’re rock stars.  I can’t blame them really, I’ve got the bug myself and it’s hard to shake, plus I’ve never heard of a twelve step program for this kind of addiction.  When you look at those guys, there’s not one distinct feature you could point out and say, “oh, he’s GOT to be Lanie’s dad.”  I mean, my eyes are blue like Kenny’s, I have full lips, like BJ, and I’m tall and thin like Spaz.  And I guess seventeen years ago my mother loved them all.  So there you go.

Writing Wednesday: A Tattered Life

This is a new WIP (work in progress for you lay people).  It's unedited.  Let me know what you think. (No I'm not done with Sad, but sometimes when an idea pops in my head I have to go with it, to at least jot a little down so I don't forget it).

 March 18, 2011 

I’m tired.  Tired of living in this sardine can of a home with its lack of windows, torn curtains, and the smell of dog piss emanating throughout.  I’m tired of going through the motions as daughter, sister, and friend when I feel like nothing more than a speck of dust on a window pane ready to be wiped clean away.  I’m tired of the snobs and flakes and posers at school who think they’re either better than you, smarter than you, or more pathetic than you and take pride in it.  When did we come to strive for depression.  The Emo boy and girls with their dark makeup and their skinny jeans brood in the hallways acting as if their blue-collar lives are pure hell while they listen to their iPods, play on their Xboxes, and talk on their cell phones.

They don’t know what it truly is to ache.  What it’s like to watch your dad walk out the door and never come back.  To watch your mom spend every waking moment with a drink in one hand and a cigarette in the other.  To be the sole provider for your family, the mother to your sister.  To be mocked and bullied at school because of it all.

And this journal, and the art, it’s not enough anymore.  I can’t do it.  I’m ready to free fall from life, to plunge into the unknown.

I’m ready to let death take me away from this place.  I don’t care what’s waiting for me on the other side.  It has to be better than this . . .

T Tuesday. T is for The Class of 2k11

I mention them today because 6 of the 17 members books release this week.  Alissa Grosso's, Popular released yesterday.  Today Gae Polisner's The Pull of Gravity, Amy Fellner Dominy's OyMG and Christina Mandelski's The Sweetest Thing release today.  K Ryer Breese's Future Imperfect and Sheila O'Connor's Sparrow Road also release this week.

The Class of 2k11 also consists of:

Carole Estby Dagg
Trinity Faegen
Kiki Hamilton
Carrie Harris
Geoff Herbach
Tess Hilmo
Amy Holder
Tara Hudson
Julia Karr
Bettina Restrepo
Angie Smibert

You should check out their books.  The ones I've read so far have been fantastic and I plan to have every one of them on my bookshelf by the end of the year.  I congratulate all six who release this week, those that have already, and those that will later this year.

That is all,

Megan