Paul Griffin

"What day is it? What night? I'm burning, burning, burning blue."

ooh a very good story. I liked the writing style - it was bouncy and a little disjointed. But it needed to be - as Jay attempts to piece together Nicole's attack and who done it...

And the conversations were short and witty and it let you draw the picture yourself without force-feeding you every last detail.

I like that this story was dark and personal - definitely a look at people and how we all have our secrets. You may think show more you know someone but....really, how well can you know anyone?

and as each secret was revealed, I was more and more surprised. show less

The beginning of Burning Blue was a little rough for me. I really liked Jay as a narrator – he was interesting and I loved his voice - but the way he told the first events as if he were there was distracting. He starts off by saying "From what I heard..." then goes on to say students were drenching Nicole in water after the incident, what the exact words she said were etc. I'm glad we got a clear picture of that huge moment considering acid being thrown in Nicole's face is the jumpstart to show more Burning Blue but it didn't make logical sense to me and it put a wedge between Jay and I. To be honest it made me suspect that he attacked Nicole which might have been Griffin's intention. I also wasn't a fan of Jay's 'future narrating' either. To me it's like giving spoilers away, it does nothing for me in the sense of heightening the anticipation since I find it so annoying.

"I had the opportunity to see him in action—see him by proxy rather, but I’ll get to that, to him, later."

"I should have figured it out right there. Nicole’s secret. Looking back, maybe I knew."

I really enjoyed that the attacker was communicating through email and that Jay was an adept hacker. Despite my slight narrating misgiving when it came to suspecting Jay, I liked that he seemed to be piling evidence against himself to start with (tech savviness, borderline obsession with Nicole, black outs, etc). Definitely enough to make you wonder if Jay is a lying narrator... haven't had one of those in a long time.

I absolutely loved how Griffin flawed and built his characters. A lot of the time, especially in YA novels, I find myself put off by the more flawed characters because they're often harsh stereotypes (for example a goth girl who no one understands with stringy dyed hair, loads of piecing, combat boots etc.) or just generally obnoxious. Griffin amazed me with his ability to skirt those stereotypes and actually create unique, flawed, believable teens.

Nicole's journals provided wonderful insight into her mind. It was really interesting to see her from Jay's point of view and then get into her own mind. I'm actually not crazy about multi-point of view books when there's a mystery involved but choosing to show Nicole's thoughts via her diary entries kept me in Jay's presence while giving me Nicole as well. I really liked that.

I'll admit that I picked this up after seeing a few people label it as romance. I'm a huge sucker for YA (non-angst) romance. I'm not sure I would haven given Burning Blue that label but the between friendship and romance relationship shared between Jay and Nicole was immensity satisfying and beautiful to follow.

The mystery... I loved how Griffin ended Burning Blue. The mystery was wrapped up beautifully with the perfect culprit. I never expected it but it made so much sense and I couldn't have been happier with how it ended. I feel a little guilty saying that but as a mystery lover it was just so great.

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For more reviews from me, please visit Bitten Books show less

Paul Griffin’s gritty 2008 young adult debut focuses on 14-year-old Ray and 15-year-old José, a couple of Puerto Rican youths who consider themselves brothers, although unrelated by blood. The two bonded while in juvenile detention and foster care. They’ve been on the lam for some time, hiding out in a run-down old railway station house in West Harlem’s Ten Mile River Park, on the banks of the Hudson River, ten miles up from the southern tip of Manhattan.

While José is the show more leader—the coordinator of criminal gigs that the two boys carry out for Jerry, the low-life owner of an auto glass repair shop in the Bronx—it is Ray, the 6’ 3”, 260-pound kid who is the moral centre of the novel. Even though he’s addled by the same testosterone that surges through his wily and conscience-free friend and just as prone to objectifying and fantasizing about women, the ungainly Ray comes across as inherently virtuous. He’s kind to a pack of abandoned dogs living in the woods; he worries about the poor people whose windshields the boys shatter to bring in business for Jerry, and he seizes any chance to make an honest buck. José regularly calls him “a girl”.

Ray is also extremely bright, evidently gifted, and responsible. He takes advantage of do-it-yourself workshops at Home Depot. These classes allow him to solve multiple practical problems of everyday life. We’re asked to believe, for example, that he knows how to tap into local energy sources to power a couple of old appliances the two have trundled to their shack in the woods. He reads extensively—physics, philosophy, and even Buddhism—and is troubled by the apparent meaninglessness of existence. The only thing he doesn’t seem to have scruples about is stealing the occasional book from Barnes & Noble.

The novel’s plot turns on Ray’s friendship with Trini, a 16-year-old Puerto Rican girl staying with her aunt, who owns a hair-braiding business in Washington Heights, a Latino neighborhood. Trini cuts Ray’s hair, or attempts to, one afternoon and the two have an immediate connection. For Ray, of course, it’s more than that, but he recognizes his disadvantage in the looks and weight department. Trini does indeed fall for José, the charmer. Learning of the boys’ parent-less state and seeing their squalid living conditions—but knowing nothing of their survival by crime—she’s determined to help them. In particular, she would like to see Ray attend school. Further turning points in the novel come when the two are apprehended after a job for Jerry goes very wrong and when an inebriated José is on the brink of sexually assaulting Trini.

One of the strengths of Griffin’s novel—the first of eight young adult titles he’s produced over the years—is the depiction of the relationship between the two young men. Another is that Ray, who is perhaps a little too good to be true, is lovable. The reader ends up willingly suspending disbelief and rooting for him. This is no small feat. The plot is brisk and occasionally tense, which I suspect would keep Griffin’s male high school audience engaged. Having said this, I found a number of plot points improbable. One of the boys’ criminal outings, for example, is foiled by a squirrel on the road at night, a highly unlikely event. I often joke that I live in “Squirrelville”—squirrels are everywhere and one must be ever vigilant when driving. Never but never in my 26 years here have I seen them dashing across roads at night. A further point: in spite of its having an engaging female character in Trini, I cannot see this book working for girls. Finally, based on my experience with adolescent readers, Griffin’s open ending would likely appeal to neither sex. The complete lack of a back story for the boys is another weakness. What events initially pushed both into crime, confrontations with the law, and foster care? We are given no clues whatsoever.

Ten Mile River received critical praise when it was first published. I purchased it back then based on the blurb, thinking it might engage some of the reluctant 14-year old boy readers I taught at the time. Reading the first few chapters years ago and seeing some of the language and mature content, I knew the novel wasn’t suitable for upper middle-school. In spite of my students being quite familiar with the matters within, I was sure I’d see some parents objecting. That’s never a fun thing. Sure I’ll go to bat for some books, but others aren’t worth the energy.

Now I’ve finally completed the novel. My view is that it’s a debut which showed promise but doesn’t quite live up to the accolades. With some reservations, I can recommend it for mature high school students. show less

Periodically a book comes along that seems to jump off the library shelf and into my heart. This was such a story. Ben is an orphan who has had his share of bad knocks. Ben's favorite place is the local library. His favorite person is his adoptive mom who suddenly dies. Flip is a stray dog whose owner sold him for $40 and then Flip became a stray. Halley is the librarian's daughter. She reads a lot in between chemo treatments for a rare form of cancer. Halley's mother mentors Ben and places show more books aside that she knows he would like.

Ben meets Flip when he followed him home from the library. Ben met Halley when she was also at the library.
Some might call this book syrupy sweet, and it is, but the author makes it work like magic. And, speaking of magic, Halley's father is a successful magician who only wishes he could wave a magic wand to take away his precious daughter's cancer.

When Ben's Aunt tries to take him in after her sister died, His Uncle proves lacking in the parental kindness department. Ben is taken in by Halley's parents, and magic occurs.

This is a wonderful book, filled with joy and sorrow -- just like life.

4.5 Stars. show less