Excellent Young Adult Fiction No One Ever Talks About, Part 1

Growing up, I was constantly attempting to convert other people my age to fans of the amazing books I was reading. Evidently I was a fairly convincing kid, as many of my friends did share in my delight of the latest under-rated novel or series, but, judging by their almost non-existent popularity, not many others did. I still bring them up every so often in conversation, and I am almost always awarded with a blank expression. My only consolation is that most of them do have Wikipedia pages, although tragically, having an article on Wikipedia is no longer a tried-and-true sign of celebrity.

In a well-intentioned but probably fruitless attempt to direct attention towards the literature I was obsessed with as a thirteen-year-old and still hold in the highest regard today, I bring you a three-part series best young adult fiction that never received much media attention (i.e., was never made into a film starring actors who smoke pot, don't shower, or star in plays naked with horses).

1 - Broken Sky, books 1 - 7 (1-9 in the UK) (1999 - 2001)
by Chris Wooding


Best volume: 7. (Pictured above is the UK cover of book 5, featuring some excellent artwork by Steve Kyte).
Twice as long as all the others, it's an epic, moving, satisfying end to the series. I cried. Seriously. Books never make me cry, so that's saying quite a bit.

Broken Sky was the highlight of my elementary school existence. I loved it, I worshiped it, I thankfully did not write any fanfiction about it (give me SOME credit here).

I never had much interest in Tolkien-esque fantasy. Wizards, elves, dwarves, and dragons (okay, dragons are pretty awesome, but you get the picture) were unappealing and dull to me, as almost every single fantasy novel I read featured standard stock creatures and races. I also watched a lot of anime for the sole purpose of getting away from conventional Western fantasy and its recycled elements. So imagine my surprise when a young English author writes a series of novels heavily inspired by Japanese anime and mythology instead of Lord of the Rings, but still maintaining its own sense of imagination and individuality.

Broken Sky's plot is a time-tested and oft-seen one: a brother and sister are thrust into a very strange world they know nothing about, and devote their lives to overthrowing the tyrannical king who was responsible for destroying their family. But its a story that's so finely crafted, with compelling and fully three-dimensional characters and worlds, that it's impossible to not appreciate the care Wooding puts into his creations. Despite technically being for children and teens, the series' overlying theme is that of race relations, and although it makes its metaphors clear, the meticulousness in which it is applied does not make it an insult to the intelligence. The same is true for its sophisticated and mature, but never alienating, portrayal of resistance movements. Wooding, who previously had written several fantastic novels set in the real world (his first to receive acclaim, Kerosene, is a gripping and powerfully honest portrayal of a teenage pyromaniac and his drug-dealing best friend), has a masterful hold on realism in his fantasy. There is no deux-ex-machina in Broken Sky, no character or force who is invincible, no villain without a measure of empathy. The violence is surprisingly brutal for the novel's age group, and there is no glorification of war - the opposite is highly stressed. Although, as previously mentioned, the premise itself is certainly not new, the directions in which Wooding takes it and the characters - who never delve into cliche or formula, but instead, refreshingly for a fantasy series, behave as real people behave - make it memorable, fascinating, and really very fun.

I miss when vampires used to be cool.

I'm not sold on all this Twilight business.

I tried reading it. I really did. But somewhere in between the horribly awkward sentence structuring, the Hallmark card "romantic" dialogue, the bland characterization (even if there are entire paragraphs devoted to Hot Vampire Guy's appearance), and the throwback to 1950's female gender roles that only a Mormon stay-at-home mom could pull off, I lost the will to continue and couldn't finish the bloody thing.

I suppose it's the safe, traditional romance that draws in both teenage girls and those who wish they still were. Impossibly handsome and charming boy meets fragile damsel in distress, boy gallantly swears to never touch innocent, chaste lady, minor wrench (aka vampirism) is introduced to possibly harm the relationship, relationship survives against all odds, chastity still withstanding.

Therein lies the problem: what the hell does chastity and traditional courtship have to do with vampires? They're not supposed to be the perfect boyfriend, they're supposed to be dangerous, poetic, half-insane, sex-crazed gore fiends.

When I was the age the primary fanbase of Twilight are now, around 13 or so, this was what a vampire meant to me:

Good old Anne Rice vampire fare (yes, I was one of those goth 13 year olds who read Anne Rice. Oh, to be young again...). While they may not be literary masterpieces, they are classic vampire novels that sold millions of copies and broke through to the mainstream. This is exactly what Twilight has done, but compare my summary of Twilight above to the sorts of things that happen in Anne Rice's books. Lestat hates his blind dad, torments and feeds on hookers, turns a six year old kid into a vampire (six year old kid then proceeds to kill entire families), has his throat slit by the six year old vampire, is bitten by crocodiles, battles his way back from being half dead and turns into a rock star whose music wakes up a very sexy 7000 year old Egyptian vampire queen who can explode hearts and eyeballs with a single thought.

See? Not a second of wholesome morality or sweetness. Definitely out of a Mormon housewife's reach.