Tara Altebrando

I’ve always had a soft spot for carnies, I’ll admit it. I don’t know if it was that X-Files episode featuring actual geeks from the Jim Rose Circus that I saw when I was 9 or 10, but they’ve always fascinated me. Even while reading biographies on Cheng and Eng and other famous geeks, I’ll admit that I still don’t have a great sense of actual carny life. But thanks to this book, I think that I might have a little bit of a better understanding of what it means to be different.

I show more love how Altebrando has spun the traditional teenage story line: girl transfers/moves to a new town/city, tries to fit in when she’s most definitely not even near the definition of “normal”, only to be accepted in the end by at least one person. Here, ‘normal’ is the abnormal, and Jane’s loss at what to do (including the small shock of being descended from carny folk) was absolutely delicious to behold. Her floundering in what would usually be a reverse situation (where society-dictated ‘normal’ would be on top, with the geeks at the bottom of the food chain) was wonderful and it was nice to watch her grow through her experiences with trying to find friendship and herself in what is known to be a very tight-knit and wary-of-outsiders community of people.

This book charts the usual teenage experience of trying to find oneself that is so often the main theme of normal (and by normal, I mean otherwise non-sub genre literature) YA lit but does it in a way that’s not only tolerable to people like me who get sick of that usual experience quite quickly, but does it with such charm that you can’t help but to love every single character in that book and not want to let them go. Even the usual idea of carny geeks is still pushed further to the edge – the bearded lady is a teenage girl, the dwarf is a goth, tattoo boy has intimate ties to the protagonist that both discover together through his tattoos.

And the mermaid for a mom angle was lovely, too. My heart ached along with Jane’s for her lost mother as she slowly grew to embrace her carny heritage from being a ‘usual’ (if not otherwise boring, as so many characters along the way pointed out) teen girl.

There’s also the issue of politics, but it’s woven in so deftly by Altebrando that you don’t really realize that it becomes a major part of the plot until after you’re about halfway done with the book. I won’t spoil that angle, but you do get the sense of community that wraps around you as you read that’s so powerful it really is as if you’re there with everyone else on the boardwalk, fighting to live your way of life.

As Peter Bishop said in “Fringe” this past season, ” ‘Reality’ is only a matter of perception”, and this book is yet another piece to back up that statement. But one should add – which reality would you choose? Would you choose to be with a traditionally outcast community? Or would you stay with the status quo? Would you deny your heritage for how society deems you should live your life? These are all essential questions that come up for the first time during one’s teenage years, and Altebrando really challenges the audience’s views the entire time, forcing you to think about what’s important to you versus what is “supposed” to be important to you.

Otherwise, a wonderful, masterful read. I can’t wait to read more of Altebrando’s work.

(crossposted to goodreads, shelfari, and witchoftheatregoing.wordpress.com) show less

Dreamland Social Club starts out like any other contemporary novel—motherless girl moves to new school, feels isolated—and then it just becomes something so breathtaking that you can’t stop turning the pages. The story defies all stereotypes (the school is full of freaks, and the new girl is normal, rather than vice versa), and really makes you think about the significance of places.

Dreamland Social Club is set in Coney Island, New York—a place I soon learned was filled with show more unimaginable sights. The way Tara Altebrando describes the place is perfectly tinged with nostalgia, and her words read like poetry. Through the eyes of Jane, the protagonist, we see that sometimes what was is just as important as what is.

Jane as a character was initially uninteresting, but that’s probably the point (she’s a “plain Jane”—nothing special). She eventually breaks out of her shell, and becomes this confident, driven girl that I really admired. Jane’s mother was an even more fascinating character—the way she approached motherhood was intriguing, and I loved how well she was developed through Jane’s childhood memories. It’s the first time I can say I’ve felt connected to the “dead mom” character. Tara Altebrando made her special.

Dreamland Social Club is an absolutely fantastic read about unlocking the mysteries of the past and discovering your potential. Almost impossible to put down, it will hook readers with its vivid descriptions, memorable characters, and truly intriguing setting. show less

This book just... Oh this book. I didn't like anyone. Seriously, I hated them all. Mary is crazy and obsessed with Carson, who's in love with Winter, who's also in love with Carson, while Patrick is in love with Mary, who isn't in love with Patrick, and Dez is just kind of in love with himself. That's what this book was about. It wasn't about an epic scavenger hunt that changed them forever, it was about some stupid fucked up love square with a little bit of scavenger thrown in to keep show more things interesting. Mary is crazy, Carson is a cheater, Winter is a cheater, Patrick is just kind of odd, and Dez is just.. Dez. I think the only person I could even consider liking is Dez. Why? Because he's not fucking batshit like Mary. Mary was seriously the worst YA character ever. I'm not kidding when I said that she was obsessed with Carson. She kept talking about how he was hers, and about how she knew that he secretly loved her, and how Carson's girlfriend, Jill, was getting in the way of their love. Then when she found out that Carson was in love with Winter, she was just like "THAT BITCH STOLE MY MAN! HE IS MINE AND HE WILL LOVE ME!" and she just got so much crazier. She's just so so so crazy. The only real distinguishable character in the book was Mary, and that's because she's lost ALL of her fucking marbles. Oh, and at the end when they stole their Principal's car? No. Just no. This book gets no happy faces from me. show less

I don't generally read YA but I couldn't pass this up (especially while in NYC). As a novel, it's a sweet coming-of-age story with themes of self-knowledge and acceptance. More than that, though, it's a love letter to Coney Island, and that is what I adored about it. I love Coney and I imagine teenage me would have been enamored of this book. There's a review farther down where the reader said she was confused as to whether we were supposed to see the old Coney attractions as fun and show more exciting or creepy and derelict. Yes dear, exactly. This section is where we get into grey areas, and I truly appreciate a teenage character dealing with a situation where there might not be a right or wrong answer. That's what coming of age is all about, isn't it? show less