In the beginning there were stories and one day they became books...

Every story has to start somewhere. I happen to like stories that start in medias res, so of course that's I'm choosing to start, in the middle. I've been reading more and more and more to generally escape from reality, and as an author to mimic styles of other authors I come to like and even pick up some plot bunnies of my own along the way. But by the beginning of 2011, I realized that I no longer had reading buddies to squee with over everything I was reading. It's like going to the movies by yourself and not having that person to turn to and mouth "OMG did you see that?!" and do a play by play with after the movie is over. In a college Creative Writing program I have realized that the people that I write with are fans of Cormac MacCarthy and Kurt Vonnegut, and here I am a fan of the weird, supernatual, vampiric, and geeky teen romance found in J.K. Rowling, Stephenie Meyer, and Richelle Mead to name a few. So yeah I'm missing that connection to someone who is as excited about the teenage first kiss as I am. I realized the best way to talk to someone about the books I'm reading is to just review them for myself, to make a mental note of the things I loved or hated about a book. But still, where is the fun in that? So here I am, putting myself out there as a reviewer of young adult fiction, coaxing others to read my library (or avoid titles that sold themselves short), and open up a book-club-like space to enjoy together. I'm here to review YA novels one book at a time as I stroll through the land of writer's block surrounded by a library of tattered spines...