Book Blog

Considering that this is my book website, I should get back to talking (well, typing) about books. About time, thanks, Olivia!

As a high school freshman, I’ve read many books for school and classics—and I know there are too many more to come. Yay. Absolutely YAY. Oh, but you love reading, so why the attitude now? Well, you asked for my opinion. 

Where should I start? That’s right; they’re hard to read, boring, and most of the time, the characters are less interesting than a textbook about the history of textbooks (NEW EDITION: NOW INCLUDES PICTURES!)

For context, I’ve read these: The Westing Game, “The Odyssey”, “The Iliad”, “The Aeneid”, The Outsiders, Lord of the Flies, Fahrenheit 451, and To Kill A Mockingbird. And countless short stories and poems that I don’t have time to name. 

The Westing Game was actually very good. I enjoyed the characters (all 16 of them), but the character analysis/tracker thing we had to do every time we read took away from the novel. But what’s new? Teachers love to have students fill out papers and answer questions because—God forbid—we actually just focus on one thing. 

Moving on to those ancient epic poems: Hard to read and understand. I don’t know, maybe it was better in Ancient Greek. As a mythology nerd, I love those stories, but I sure as heck didn’t learn to love them from the classics. No, I read Percy Jackson. (Oh, gods, here she goes again about that same series.) So, maybe we can forgo the 2,000+ year-old stories, but learn the same things from a modern lens—and there is so much more than just mythology jam-packed in those books. Just a little update, possibly. 

Next, The Outsiders. I thought the characters were fine; not great, not bad. The plot was decent, two groups with different lifestyles. The end was the best because I really felt the emotions of the characters and what was at stake. I liked it enough, but it was meh—there was something missing. And I hate to say it, but I’m not sure what. You know that feeling where a book, TV show, movie, or something is just MEH? Yeah, not a great feeling—or endorsement of the book. Actually, knowing me, it could very easily be the characters. 

Wow. Really helpful. I know. 

About Lord of the Flies...well, this was a painfully awful read. Personally, I love characters with a rich backstory, and this had none of that whatsoever. I know that each character is supposed to symbolize different sides of society (law and order versus chaos and barbarians), but I wanted to know what made Jack behave more uncivilized than Ralph—was it his homelife? What were his parents like? Did he have friends? But we got nothing. No details at all. Makes that textbook sound really interesting. 

Fahrenheit 451 didn’t have in-depth characters, which was a complaint I had, but it did have complex morals. Guy Montag had to decide if he should blindly follow the government (and burn books) or risk it all to be free, to have access to information that wasn’t controlled. That complicated theme really helped me enjoy this book—even if the characters were fairly bland. It wasn’t half bad (or half good) for summer reading. 

With To Kill a Mockingbird, I highly recommend—if you HAVE to read it—listen to it (and I hate audiobooks with a severe passion that’s not even funny). It’s written in a very southern way that didn’t sound right in my head, which made it hard to read and understand. I listened to a few chapters, and it was much better; it made the dialogue sound way more natural instead of grammatically incorrect. I felt like there were way too many characters (I couldn’t keep track of them all. Maybe I needed the character tracker I used for The Westing Game...), and there wasn’t a lot of character development and growth. 

You see, those two things are the deciding factor for whether I like a book or not. It’s all about the characters—especially the narrator, because you're always in their head and you eventually learn the way they think. For most of these books I was required to read, the characters did it for me. I couldn’t enjoy it if I didn’t like the characters. But I truly felt like watching paint dry would have more complex characters than these classics. I guess schools require reading classics because...well, I’m not sure? To practice analyzing literature? I kinda feel like this should be obvious. 

So, why did I write this? I know this seems more like an I’m-just-going-to-vent-about-every-possible-thing therapy session, but I really do feel like it would be better to switch up the standard books for school. Instead of the 2,000-year-old epic poems, maybe read Percy Jackson, which is a great, relatable series for teens. For historical books, reading Ruta Sepetys’s books or Kristin Hannah’s books would give kids a personal connection to the characters, feeling the characters as they find their way through a certain time period. Making these changes would help kids enjoy school, reading, and learning way more than, “Oh, time to read a novel that’s really fricking hard to understand and so boring that it could put a caffeinated ADHD student to sleep—AGAIN!” That’s my personal opinion, which probably won’t go anywhere, but at least I put it out there. 

 A bunch of you probably think, “Kristin Hannah (or whoever) is an amazing author.” But have you ever actually stopped and asked yourself why? Is it the characters? The setting? The drama? Or, like, something totally random?

For me, it’s all about the writing and the characters. Kristin Hannah, Ruta Sepetys (review coming soon, so stay tuned), and—you guessed it—Rick Riordan totally nail that. I won’t go off on Sepetys yet (I need to save something for a future blog post), but I’m definitely about to compare Hannah and Riordan.

“But Rick is a kids’ author! What could his books possibly have in common with The Great Alone?” (Cue me laughing so hard that I almost fell off my chair.)

Let’s start with the flashbacks. In Heroes of Olympus, Hazel is literally from the 1930s and went through some seriously rough stuff in Alaska. In The Great Alone, Leni’s dad was a POW in the Vietnam War, and his memories are just as brutal. But get this: somehow, both Hazel and Leni’s dad go to Alaska and—boom—suddenly the flashbacks are (sort of) less terrible. Coincidence? I think not. 🤯

Also, Alaska is basically this wild, “the land beyond the gods” place in both books. The characters definitely feel the looming vibes of the landscape. Alaska is honestly like that monster under your bed, ready to grab your foot if you step too close. 

In The House of Hades, Percy and Annabeth come across the goddess of poison/misery. And because he is the son of Poseidon (water guy!), Percy was able to control liquids—even poison. Annabeth totally freaks out when Percy goes full power mode, so he stops. Now, in The Great Alone, Tom Walker was about to go all Hulk-mode on Leni’s dad, but her mom “pulled him out of rage” (page 145). I was honestly so shook when I realized how alike these moments are.

Both books also have insane parental rivalries that seriously mess with the characters so much. Percy and Annabeth have to dodge Poseidon and Athena’s ancient grudge, while Leni and Matthew basically tiptoe around Leni’s dad, trying not to set him off. The struggle is real.

To wrap it up, the vibes are super similar, too. Rediscovery is huge—like when Percy lost his memories or Leni’s dad’s journey for happiness after the war. Resilience and loyalty? MAJOR. (Seriously, it’s literally Percy’s fatal flaw.) And don’t get me started on found family. Both stories have characters who keep pushing through and, eventually, find their people. It’s honestly kind of inspiring.

“Okay, enough comparing, Olivia.” 

Yeah, you’re right. My bad, I’ll chill out now.

I loved The Great Alone for many reasons other than its similarities to Heroes of Olympus. I couldn’t get enough of the characters, and the setting—PHENOMENAL (all caps necessary). Hannah’s writing is next-level—no joke, I almost cried like, five times. Large Marge is the GOAT neighbor, and not just because of her name. I’m literally sitting here trying to think of something I didn’t like, and I’ve got nothing. Nada.  I can’t wait to read her other novels! 

And, by the way, I’m so sorry for nerding out at you for this long blog post. 

If you've ever heard of the Percy Jackson book series, you probably think it's just for kids. Some people call it a young adult book—which, honestly, is way more accurate. Percy Jackson is super easy to read thanks to its humor, but it's also a must-read for teens because of its surprisingly deep themes.

There’s some abuse, parental neglect, depression, and death. Yeah. Not exactly “light reading.” Not sure about you, but I wouldn’t recommend a ten-year-old pick that up without at least a snack and some emotional support. It definitely is dark—like, real dark—at points.  

So why would I still declare it a must-read? You must think I’m nuts after I said that.

Because of the characters—and their resilience through all sorts of tragedies. They’re literally burdened by the gods (sometimes their own parents). But they become free as they discover real, unshakeable, found-family bonds.

Sure, I learned a ton about ancient Greece, Rome, Egypt, the Vikings, and all their chaotic mythologies—but I also learned how to be a better person.

So... did I convince you? Would you still call Percy Jackson a silly children’s book?

*A reader’s sobs in the background*

I didn’t think so.