Corey Ann Haydu

So many mixed feelings about this book. The prose is gorgeous and full of longing and pain. I felt Lorna's aching heart and grief and resentment because it came through in the language. And the book was extremely compelling - I read it through in one sitting.

But.

This is supposed to take place in some alternate USA where after a horrific bombing at Times Square, the country decides to take "never forget" literally to the point of fetishizing grief. The "Affected" - those who have lost a loved show more one in the bombing are written about and those who had been killed are remembered in history the same way we memorize historical figures.

Within that context are the Devonairre girls, who are cursed to have any boy they love die. There are whole rituals carried out by those who live on Devonnairre Street in order to... keep the order? Sacrifice? That all seem to stem from an even more extreme fetishization of grief. Angelika, the matriarch of the street, has a litany of rules: wear wool, drink lavender tea, women don't cut their hair, open windows after death, keep pictures of your dead loves, don't throw away the dead's belongings... Reader, decide if these all are meaningful or a way for a controlling old woman to maintain her hold on her community.

I found it all very disturbing. And the whole thing to be extremely akin to slut shaming. The onus is put on the girls to not fall in love -- and that included policing how much skin they showed and instituting a street-wide curfew at one point in the book. I think the author meant for it to be disturbing but never really addresses its problematic nature.

The book does explore grief, and collective grief vs personal grief. And raises the question: whose grief is it? But never takes the next step of looking at the emotional harm of never letting go of that grief and healing with the weekly minutes of silence, annual memorials. It is institutionalized mourning, which is even made more extreme on Devonnaire Street.

Overall, a gorgeous and lyrical book that raises some really important and interesting issues. But I was never quite sure which side the author wanted to come down on so it felt a bit waffly.

Review copy courtesy of the publisher via First to Read show less

The world tilted for Elodee this year, and now it’s impossible for her to be the same as she was before. Not when her feelings have such a strong grip on her heart. Not when she and her twin sister, Naomi, seem to be drifting apart. So when Elodee’s mom gets a new job in Eventown, moving seems like it might just fix everything.
Indeed, life in Eventown is comforting and exciting all at once. Their kitchen comes with a box of recipes for Elodee to try. Everyone takes the scenic way to show more school or work—past rows of rosebushes and unexpected waterfalls. On blueberry-picking field trips, every berry is perfectly ripe.
Sure, there are a few odd rules, and the houses all look exactly alike, but it’s easy enough to explain—until Elodee realizes that there are only three ice cream flavors in Eventown. Ever. And they play only one song in music class.
Everything may be “even” in Eventown, but is there a price to pay for perfection—and pretending? show less

Before you even ask, yes I did sob a bit during the reading of this book. It's nearly impossible to read a story like Rules for Stealing Stars and not have some deep feelings. This is a story about sisterhood. About family. About the fact that sometimes a family can seem like they're holding it together, but inside they're each falling apart. If you love magical realism and contemporary Middle Grade stories, you're going to fall in love with this book.

I have a soft spot for stories about show more children. While most people see the pain that parents exhibit when a family is broken, they forget that the children feel it even more clearly. Looking at an an ailing parent, at the depression and anger that they're dealing with on a daily basis, is hard enough. Looking at that same parent through the eyes of a child is even harder. Imagine remembering what your family once was, and wondering if it will ever be that way ever again. Not knowing whether to love that person, or to pretend they don't exist to stop the hurt. Is it any wonder that I got emotional? I think not.

Really, it was the sisters themselves that made this story for me. Eleanor, Astrid, Marla and Priscilla (Silly to her sisters), were such beautifully rendered characters. Each one dealing with this unstable part of their lives in such a different way. Eleanor choosing to run away from it. Astrid choosing to loose herself in her hobbies. Marla, trying so hard to change things and internalizing her fear. Finally, poor Silly and her inability to understand why her sisters didn't want to rally together. I watched as she did her best to figure out where she fit in this broken family, and I felt her hurt.

So what of the magical realism? Well, it's definitely there. Corey Ann Haydu does a rather excellent job of bringing a bit of magic into the world of these girls. At first, I wasn't sure how I felt about this addition. I won't spoil, but it felt a little unbelievable. This is coming from a reader who opens herself to pretty much anything. However, the more I read the more I realized how perfectly the concept that Haydu was weaving into the story fit. Sometimes you don't know what you need until it's right in front of you. That's exactly what Silly and her sisters soon came to discover.

Rules for Stealing Stars is sweet. It's sad. It's full of the kind of feelings that will make you want to curl up to stop the heartache. It's a gorgeous story, and one that I'm very glad that I read. show less

First off, if you're expecting a kinda-quirky, not-too-serious YA romance... this isn't it. That was sort of what I was expecting; I bought it when it was $1.99 on Kindle, and there weren't many reviews yet.

After reading the reviews--some from mental-health professionals and some from people with OCD--that talk about how accurate Bea's experience is, I'm a little concerned about my own mental health, because I could actually relate to much of her internal dialogue. I'm going to assume show more that's just an indication of Corey Ann Haydu's skill as a writer.

The story is good--no big plot twists or anything, but Bea's gradual awareness of what she's doing and how other people see her pulls you along.

The characters felt very real (with a couple of exceptions--more on that later). Lisha wasn't the usual best friend/sidekick character, and Beck wasn't the typical hunky boyfriend. Actually, I could hardly read about him at all, because he was just so... raw. I remember the guys who were really into bodybuilding in high school, and how they always seemed kind of uncomfortable, like their skin was too small; Beck is like that times three (thanks to the OCD, I guess).

I think it's a great book and an important one, but I'm docking it a star because the coincidences seem so forced. I understand that Bea sees patterns in life, and a coincidence to her is bigger than it is to most people, but the coincidence of having the boy she met in the dark end up in her therapy group is just too convenient. It's such a big coincidence that I can't imagine ANY teenage girl not seeing it as an omen of some sort. Her having happened to see the boy she had a crush on stab a guy with a bottle when she just happens to have been at the prison waiting for her mother who happens to be a prison guard was just completely unreal; for a while I thought maybe she had hallucinated it. And Austin and Sylvia being semi-famous (in a local way, anyway) was also just too convenient. It felt like the main reason for that was to make sure that they didn't freak out to find they had a stalker, because music people are apparently supposed to be used to that level of fan interaction. I really didn't buy Austin and Sylvia much at all, as a matter of fact. Is one of them independently wealthy? I don't remember if that was mentioned or not, but for them to afford their lifestyle--in Boston, no less--on the salaries of a couple of bar musicians really strains credibility.

Overall, I like the book a lot. I don't think it's too much for a teenager to deal with; at a young age I read a truly disturbing book called Listen to the Silence, along with classics like I Never Promised You a Rose Garden and even--in FIFTH GRADE--Sybil. I'm pretty sure that OCD Love Story is not only more accurate, but also just all-around better literature than the sensationalistic mental-health stories (fiction, non-fiction, or something in between) of my youth. I'm still thinking about it a week later, which is unusual for me with YA, no matter how good it is. show less