Archive: July 2018

Book Review: Smash: Trial by Fire by Chris A. Bolton & Kyle Bolton (2018)

Tuesday, July 31st, 2018

Superheroing with a curfew.

three out of five stars

(Full disclosure: I received a free copy of this book for review through Goodreads.)

Nine-year-old Andrew Ryan worships the local superhero Defender: his bedroom wall sports a Defender poster, he watches Defender’s exploits on television whenever possible (meaning whenever his jerk of an older brother Tommy will let him have the remote), and he has Defender’s official video game. He even goes as Defender for Halloween, even if it is just a homemade costume his mom Helen cobbled together using an old pair of long johns and his grandfather’s WWII goggles. (Punch ALL the Nazis!) But only in his wildest dreams could Andrew imagine fighting crime like his idol.

When Defender’s arch enemy Magus tries to drain Defender’s powers so that he can harness them for his own nefarious purposes, the machine explodes in a not-so-freak accident (it was a prototype, after all) – sending Defender’s powers straight into bystander Andrew’s body. With Defender dead, it’s up to Andy to step up and protect a city left, well, undefended. But how can a nine-year-old defeat bank robbers, robots, and minions, when he already has bullies, a sullen older brother, an absentee dad, piles of homework, and a curfew to deal with?

Smash: Trial by Fire is a cute comic, though not terribly memorable. The story line is engaging, if a little predictable. I think part of the problem, at least for me, is that Smash’s intended audience is quite a bit younger than myself – in the middle-grade range, most likely. The “kids can effect change / but don’t be afraid to accept help” message is simple yet effective.

I really liked the art, which has a retro vibe to it. Defender is your typical square-jawed, muscle-bound gorilla of a man; he feels like a throwback to the superheroes of the ’50s. Sparrowhawk/Smash’s costume has a fun vintage aesthetic. The goggles really make the outfit, and I love how they seem to be following you around from the cover of the book.

Book One also has some unexpected moments of levity – bordering on absurdity – such as when Defender’s contemporary the Wraith explains the circumstances surrounding his retirement to Andrew:

This would probably be a good pick for younger readers who are just starting to get interested in comic books.

(This review is also available on Amazon, Library Thing, and Goodreads. Please click through and vote it helpful if you’re so inclined!)

tweets for 2018-07-30

Tuesday, July 31st, 2018

tweets for 2018-07-29

Monday, July 30th, 2018

tweets for 2018-07-28

Sunday, July 29th, 2018

tweets for 2018-07-27

Saturday, July 28th, 2018

tweets for 2018-07-26

Friday, July 27th, 2018

tweets for 2018-07-25

Thursday, July 26th, 2018

tweets for 2018-07-24

Wednesday, July 25th, 2018

Book Review: I Am Alfonso Jones by Tony Medina, John Jennings, & Stacey Robinson (2017)

Tuesday, July 24th, 2018

“Slavery didn’t end in 1865; it evolved.”

five out of five stars

(Full disclosure: I received a free copy of this book for review through Library Thing’s Early Reviewers program. Trigger warning for racist violence.)

At just fifteen years young, Alfonso Jones has already endured more than any human – child or adult – should have to. Before he was even born, Alfonso’s father was wrongly convicted of the rape and murder of a taxi fare, a white woman. Alfonso’s mother went into premature labor when the officers investigating the case executed a search warrant on the couple’s apartment, knocking over an altar of candles and starting a fire in the process.

Many people would break under far less, but Alfonso’s family persevered. Though he mostly only knows his father through letters, Ishmael has worked hard to stay a constant in his son’s life. His mother Cynthia is Alfonso’s champion; through sheer force of will – and Alfonso’s stellar test scores – she was able to gain him admittance to the prestigious Henry Dumas School of the Arts. She and Alfonso moved in with his paternal grandfather, the reverend Velasco Jones, to be closer to his school, and so Alfonso could have a strong male role model in his life.

Alfonso loves playing the trumpet, dreams of portraying Hamlet in his school’s hip-hop production of the play, and works part-time as a bike messenger to save some money to visit his father in Attica. Or so he thinks: just as he’s nearing his goal, Ishmael’s conviction is overturned on DNA evidence. Instead of a ticket, Alfonso goes shopping for a suit for Ishmael’s welcome home party. There, off-duty police officer and Markman’s security guard Pete Whitson mistakes the hanger in Alfonso’s hand for a gun, and shoots him multiple times. Alfonso dies on the scene, as his crush Danetta screams in shock and horror.

When he awakens, Afonso finds himself riding a ghost train, filled with his ancestors and compatriots: other Black Americans who were murdered by police officers. Eleanor Bumpurs. Michael Stewart. Anthony Baez. Amadou Diallo. And, of course, Henry Dumas, for whom Alfonso’s high school is named. Alfonso’s elders guide him through the afterlife, as he checks in on the people who had such a profound impact on his life: his classmates and teachers; his parents and extended family; and, of course, the officer who killed him – and the communities that both defend and condemn Whitson’s actions.

Alfonso and his fellow spirits are destined to ride the ghost train until they find justice, making this a journey without end for so many of them – and giving a new meaning to the chant “No justice, no peace.”

I Am Alfonso Jones is not an easy read, but it’s a necessary one. It touches upon so many of the issues surrounding the Movement for Black Lives: not only excessive force, police brutality, and the shooting of unarmed POC, but also mass incarceration; victim blaming; #NotAllCops; racist media coverage; unequal access to education; the impact of technology on organizing and protest; the generational divide between activists; intersectionality; accountability; the blue wall of silence; the tension between professional nonprofits (read: showboating by outsiders) and local grassroots organizers; and the effects of trauma on survivors, to name a few.

By telling the story through Alfonso’s eyes, Medina provides a unique perspective: we get to put ourselves in the victim’s shoes, as Alfonso bears witness to the myriad ways his friends, family, and society as a whole cope with his murder. Framing this against the backdrop of a hip-hop Hamlet adds another layer of depth and originality.

I Am Alfonso Jones is both a heartbreaking and impassioned call to arms – and an eloquent introduction to the #BlackLivesMatter movement for younger readers. The ending, while especially merciless and unsatisfying, is all too believable and true to life. Medina doesn’t pull any punches or try to sugarcoat things with a shiny, happy resolution.

That said, the story is not entirely without hope: Alfonso lived to see the first Black woman president. We should be so blessed.

(This review is also available on Amazon, Library Thing, and Goodreads. Please click through and vote it helpful if you’re so inclined!)

tweets for 2018-07-23

Tuesday, July 24th, 2018

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Monday, July 23rd, 2018

tweets for 2018-07-21

Sunday, July 22nd, 2018

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Saturday, July 21st, 2018

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Friday, July 20th, 2018

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Thursday, July 19th, 2018

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Wednesday, July 18th, 2018

Book Review: Luisa: Now and Then by Carole Maurel (2018)

Tuesday, July 17th, 2018

Letters to My Teenage Self Meets Freaky Friday

four out of five stars

(Full disclosure: I received a free e-ARC for review through Edelweiss. Trigger warning for homophobia.)

When the book’s synopsis says that an adult Luisa “encounters” her fifteen-year-old self, I just assumed this meeting would be more metaphorical than anything else: Luisa rediscovers her old diaries, perhaps, or pens a letter to her younger self (a la Dear Teen Me). But this encounter is more literal – and science fictiony – than that.

One evening, on her way back from a friend’s house, young Luisa falls asleep on the bus – only to awaken seventeen years later, in 2013. All the technological wonders that surround her (cell phones! twitter! wi-fi! mp3 players!) pale in comparison to the chance meeting she has with her adult self … but not in a good way.

Whereas teenage Luisa dreamed of becoming a fine art photographer, adult Luisa specializes in porn – food porn, that is. (Nothing wrong with a good quiche, okay.) She lives in small apartment in Paris, bequeathed to Luisa by her estranged Aunt Aurelia, with whom she shares more in common than she can possibly know. She’s still single, flitting from one unsatisfying hetero relationship to another. Worst of all – to her teenage self, at least – Luisa never kept in touch with her first love: a girl named Lucy, who was the target of bullies and Luisa’s mother’s scorn alike.

As the two versions of the same woman begin to morph into one another in Freaky Friday-esque fashion, Luisa must confront her fears – and her family’s homophobia – in order to … what? Integrate her selves? Find her way home? Prevent the bloody apocalypse?

If I’m not always sure what’s happening in Luisa: Now and Then, at least I can say that it’s a touching, fun, and compassionate ride. The message about reconciling your present life with your past dreams is universal, and Luisa’s struggle to accept – if not define – her sexuality is handled with care, nuance, and love. Recommended for LGBTQ adults and teens, of course, and more generally everyone whose life didn’t go exactly as planned.

(This review is also available on Amazon, Library Thing, and Goodreads. Please click through and vote it helpful if you’re so inclined!)

tweets for 2018-07-16

Tuesday, July 17th, 2018

tweets for 2018-07-15

Monday, July 16th, 2018

tweets for 2018-07-14

Sunday, July 15th, 2018