First, I have to admit that my primary reason for writing this review is to justify my reading of this book. I’ll read almost anything that’s placed in front of me, but I try to avoid all things Nicholas Sparks. I liked The Notebook, yes, but after reading Message in a Bottle, I decided I couldn’t stomach anymore Sparks. He activates my gag reflex like no other writer.

However, when a friend, who equally disliked Message in a Bottle, picked this up on one of our trips to the used book store, I decided to give Nick another go. My friend said she knew it was somehow tied to The Notebook, which I enjoyed, so I took a chance.

A bad chance, as it turns out. I found the characters bland and the plot sluggish. The love story, while more realistic and certainly more common than that of The Notebook, is not nearly as inspiring. The plot didn’t move at a pace that held my interest, and it wasn’t until near the end that I really latched on. Sparks is lucky I gave him that long to hook me.

Worst of all, it was entirely too predictable. A novel can get away with predictability if the story leading up to the twist is also interesting and grabbing. However, I found Sparks to be almost insulting in his assumption that the reader can’t see right through his guise. He strings you along like you have no idea what’s really going on, then asks you to act shocked as he slowly reveals his secrets.

While this novel isn’t the worst I’ve read (that Bottle book was even worse!), I’d be forced to give it a single star if I had my own rating system. Which I don’t. Instead, I’ll just suggest that unless you like cheesy predictable love stories, you might find something better to read on another shelf.

If you’re only a chapter or two into Wicked, don’t give up. This book makes a comeback if you can hold out just a little longer. When I first began reading, I had to wonder what all the hype was about. Why was everyone salivating over this book? I didn’t understand it. It just didn’t grab me the way I thought it would, and in retrospect, I think that’s because it took a few chapters for me to really be invested in the characters. It starts out with an obscure story about the parents of Elphaba, the eventual Wicked Witch of the West, before she is even born. Even when she was a child, I didn’t care much about her or her family. But just as I was wondering if this thing would ever get rolling, Elphaba suddenly grew up in a matter of pages. Elphaba as a young adult is much more interesting!

It wasn’t long before I was introduced to Galinda (later known as Glinda) and Nessarose (the future Wicked Witch of the East). What surprised me most about this story were the personalities and relationships that these three had. I expected both “witches” to be naturally evil and twisted, but Maguire caught me off guard when he gave them each a heart and a multitude of thoughts and feelings. Most of what we were previously lead to believe as intentionally evil was actually, according to Maguire, purely circumstantial. The story is so well developed, that it’s hard to doubt that Maguire’s isn’t the true story.

As I followed Elphaba through college, a career in the militia, a stay at an Oz-like convent, and her journey west, I came to appreciate her as more than a green-skinned evil creature. In the end, I was even rooting for her, hoping that the tornado would never bring Dorothy to Oz, or that somehow the fateful bucket of water might never be lifted.

Even though it took more pages than I would have liked, Maguire eventually won me over with this delightful tale that treats Dorothy as a secondary character, and finally gives the Wicked Witch a story of her own. If you don’t wish to have your ideas of Oz questioned, maybe skip this book and rewatch the film. But if you crave a new perspective, Maguire does this story justice.

Yeah yeah, I’m in my mid-twenties and I’m reviewing this pre-teen icon. But I never read it before last weekend. I read plenty of Judy Blume to help me ease my way through puberty, but somehow I missed this well-known title. I guess I didn’t check when it was published (such a researcher I am!), so maybe it didn’t come out until I was well on my way to adolescence. Except they talk about using belts to hold maxi-pads in place…that was definitely before my time. Oh how I love you sticky adhesive!

Since I felt like I missed out on an important piece of literature by overlooking this novel, I picked it up at my local library and gave it a read. It’s the story of Margaret (did you figure that one out yet?), a pre-teen girl who just moved to a new town. Not only is she battling the awkwardness of puberty, but she’s the new girl in school too. Miraculously (or not, it is fiction after all, fiction meant to assure young girls that they are all normal and well-adjusted), she comes through it all unscathed.

It’s a happy time as Margaret deals with her first crush on an older boy, her first training bra, her first pubic hair, her first period. Oh not to mention her internal struggle with God and religion. I must say, the Are you there God’s get a little old. I found myself skipping over her little one-sided conversations with God so I could get right back to the meat of the story.

Will she or won’t she get her period before Nancy? Will Moose pay attention to her this time? What about her boobs? Have they started growing yet?

I feel satisfied having read this book, like I filled a part of childhood that had been missing. Now I’ll return it to the library and go back to my grown-up literature. Unless I have a daughter someday, then I’ll make sure she doesn’t miss out of course.

I read this book in two short sittings when I needed a break from a longer, more cumbersome book I’m working on. I read half in bed one night and the other half after work the next day. Short, easy read. Wiesel doesn’t mince words; he tells the story, short and sweet. First this happened, then this, then this. He doesn’t embellish or exaggerate. The story is important, not the telling of the story. Of course, the story of his time in a concentration camp is shocking and painful enough, you don’t need fancy plot twists to intrigue you.

My only complaint is that I felt a little unfulfilled with the ending. I was hoping he would have somehow found out what happened to his mother and sisters at Auschwitz or told me more about life after his evacuation. But Night is not about life after, it’s about life in a Nazi death camp.

Short, simple, intense and fearsome. I even recommended it to my boyfriend who isn’t exactly a literature buff!