This summer, I read The Floating Islands, a fantastic young adult book about cities that are buoyed in the air, tethered by magic and unfathomable technology. There are dragons and wizards and the usual suspects of fantasy novels, but the book felt fresh and was one of my favorite summer reads.
I am a huge fan of young adult sci-fi/fantasy novels. From Twilight to Hunger Games to the Wildwood Chronicles (which, by the way, is awesome) – I am fully up-to-date on the latest YA hits. Maybe it stems from my elementary school days of reading and re-reading all of Madeline L’Engle‘s books starting with a Wrinkle in Time. I remember the tattered copy I checked out repeatedly from the library — the faded cover and torn edges, the odd scrawled notes I would find on random pages.
I went to a movie party held for my daughter’s class this past weekend and saw a pre-teen reading the latest bestseller (an older sister forced to attend, looked like). She was squirreled away in the corner, trying to avoid all the first graders running about. That would have been me at age 11. I asked her how the book was, and she gushed about the plot points, so excited to share the story. We had an animated conversation about other titles and I realized that I really like that a part of me is still that bookworm-y little girl, sparkly-eyed about vampires and flying unicorns and telekinesis and everything and anything impossible and magical.
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