*wipes away tears*
*throws tissue into trash can*
*puts sad book back inside purse*
So I won Starseeker in a giveaway from Bart’s Bookshelf (thank you, I really liked it!), and I got it in the mail the other day and I read it today in between being scared shitless by “Hush” (why are the Gentlemen so scary? why do they do that with their hands and their faces?) and trying to figure out what the hell happens in “Doomed” (hell happens. They have to go back to high school to fix the stupid Hellmouth; such a subpar episode, plus there’s loads of Riley acting a fool, though – hey, goody – this is also the one where Spike figures out he can hurt demons!), which is what I’m doing now while I’m writing this, and it was really good, and it made me cry like a baby, a hungry angry baby.
Here’s what it’s about: Ever since Luke’s father’s death two years ago, he’s been a bit floundering, falling in with A Bad Crowd of rotten kids (what is with British schoolchildren? Are they really like this, or are British YA novels and my old flatmates lying to me?), and the aforementioned Bad Crowd has recruited Luke to break into an old lady’s house and steal a box that she has. But Luke is hearing things that other people can’t hear, voices, humming, the sound of a young girl crying – and when he breaks into the house, he finds a girl there. There’s a lot more than this going on – he has a gift for music, there’s a piano concert coming up, his mum’s thinking about remarrying – and when it all (tearing up again here) comes together at the end, it’s very lovely and moving.
I am still sniffly. I cried a lot of tears. Starseeker reminded me a smidgy bit of David Almond – with the gentle, delicate way of dealing with loss, and the slightly mystical thing. I like the slightly mystical thing. I am all about mystics; in fact, I am all about English mystics. Hooray for England! I support your long tradition of mysticism! British YA fiction seems to do this sort of a lot, all this touchy-feely mystical stuff, which is strange because American YA fiction doesn’t, and Americans are waaaaay more touchy-feely than Brits. Thoughts?