Life Under A Rock

Yeah, so.  I went to see Inception last night (pretty good, or cheap mindfuck?  I can’t decide), and then I got home and started reading the new Tana French, and then I looked up at the clock and it was well past midnight, so I decided the read-a-thon might as well be ON.

And thus, because it was short AND she was the first to sign on, I read Lizaanne’s pick:

Phyllis Reynolds Naylor, Jade Green : A Ghost Story

Okay, I’m sorry, but I just wasn’t in love with this one.  To begin with, it’s got that stick-up-the-butt pseudo-Victorian narrator voice that great children’s authors of the 1980s always seem to adopt when they’re writing about the 1800s (think Cynthia Voigt in The Callender Papers).  I hate that voice.  Also, the whole thing just seemed…muddled to me.  Age-wise, I mean, not plot-wise.  See, the story’s about Judith, this orphan who comes to live with her uncle after her mom dies in an INSANE ASYLUM (wooooo!), and the only stipulation that her uncle has is that she CAN’T BRING THE COLOR GREEN INTO THE HOUSE.  But of course she does, because GIRLS IN THESE BOOKS NEVER LISTEN, and the house immediately becomes haunted.  Because it turns out that a girl named Jade Green (seriously, whut?) lived there before her, and Jade Green totes offed herself.  By cutting off her hand and letting herself bleed out all over the attic stairs.

Yeah, TOTALLY NOT A MURDER, Y’ALL.  Seriously, Naylor, who are you kidding?  NO ONE KILLS THEMSELVES WITH A MEAT CLEAVER.

Anyway, on the one hand (har), this is obviously meant for younger children, because the murderer is telegraphed from essentially the first time he runs his hands over Judith’s maidenly bosom buttons.  On the other hand (again, har), Judith is always talking about how the neighborhood boy is giving her the tinglies in her drawers and how she would very much like to roll around with him naked, and I’m thinking that’s just not going to appeal to an audience of eight-year-olds.  Naylor should have either cut out all the underpants-tinglies or pitched this older, because what we’re left with is a book that is a little too adult in content for readers who might appreciate its plot, and waaaaaaaaaaaay too simplistic in its plot  for readers who can related to their underpants tingling.

Recommended for:    Eh, eight-year-olds.  The sex stuff will be over their heads, anyway.  I hope.

Tracy Barrett, Cold in Summer

Ariadne’s family moves to rural Tennessee and she’s real whiny about it because she had to leave all her friends behind.  Eh.  Sorry, these plots don’t do much for me, because I was a military brat and SUCK IT UP, YOU BIG BABY.  Anyway, because she’s all lonely and sad and shit, she starts seeing a ghost.  No, seriously.  Aaaaaaaaaand…yeah, once again, in my desire to pick something short, omigod SHORT, I overshot the mark and got something that I’m just too damn old and grumpy to appreciate.  The mystery ain’t no mystery, y’all.  Skip this.

Next up: One for the Money!