legacies

Boarding schools. Myths and legend. Orphans. Wish fulfillment. Questionable authority figure behavior. Add in a little mystery, a dollop of angst and the faintest hint of teenage romance, and you’ve got Legacies, the first in a series by Mercedes Lackey and Rosemary Edghill. The Shadow Grail books feature magical teen orphans who are sent to a Montana boarding school called Oakhurst – and the school is hiding secrets and peril. Wondering if Legacies ticks ALL of the cliché boxes? It does, without irony.

Spirit White has survived from a deadly car crash that has killed her mother and father and her sister. She has been discovered by a school with special talents, called magic. A couple of months after staying, people begin to disappear, some vanish to be never seen again, so Spirit and her new friends begin the investigation. But will they find out the truth of what is going on? Or will Spirit and her friends suffer a terrible fate from which they don't know about yet?

Spirit White survives a horrific accident that kills the rest of her family, and after extensive therapy is bundled off to a school in the middle of nowhere – one that provides for her every need and also tells her that she has latent magical abilities. While Spirit makes friends and gets to know her surroundings, everyone she knows is under threat. Will she survive?

First of all, to the rhetorical ‘question’ I ask (and the official summary asks) above – OF COURSE she survives. There’s a book two! Secondly, ohmydeargoodness, there were so many things that rubbed my skin the wrong way with this book. Stand back and let me get started with the evisceration. I mean… analysis.

There were two instances that stood out to me as clearly abusive adult behavior for no apparent reason (no plot or character development occur as a result): first in the hospital, when Spirit is berated by an orderly who is named but has no other back story. He’s clearly a placeholder, which could be okay, but he yells at our main character. Who is healing and mourning. In, you know, a hospital. The situation is just so weird and out of place that the warning bells went off immediately. And the second, with the headmaster… we have a clear instance of TSTL (Too Stupid To Live) syndrome, my dears. If you can’t see that that’s unhealthy, you have no survival skillz, and you might deserve my contempt. Moving on!

Wish fulfillment – this is one element of Legacies that brought me out of the story over and over again. I understand, the place is luxurious and they’re given everything. However, the time spent describing consumer items would be better spent on the actual setting (and would alleviate a lot of confusion in the story world).

Another thing that constantly grabbed attention away from the action was the mishandling of cultural references and teen communication. Technology use didn’t fit the age group, the IM speak was embarrassing, and there was an Anna Nicole Simpson reference. That’s almost too old for me, and I’m 27 (not the target market). Mess.

Put all of the mismatched elements together, and a story won’t hold well (for me), no matter how good the plot. And you know what? The plot in Legacies was the only thing that kept me reading. Total bright spot, even if you can tell from a mile away that this is a set-up book. If you’re into the whole orphan-with-magic-in-a-boarding-school thing, may I point you in the direction of Jennifer Estep’s Touch of Frost? Same clichés, but with more humor and sass. Or if you do try this series – remember that I warned you!

Recommended for: die-hard fans of magic in school settings, Mercedes Lackey enthusiasts wondering what she’s serving up to the younger set, and those with an incurable sense of optimism. Good luck!

my (very) short and illustrious career as a gnome thief

I am one of those rare (watch me closely or I’ll disappear!) creatures who loved high school, but I don’t think they were the best years of my life. I just had an amazing time, and I knew that while it was happening. Yes, there were awkward bits. Living as me is pretty much one huge awkward piece of the universe. But since I am, you know, LIVING, it goes to show that anyone can survive awkward. Or something. Darn, that paragraph was awkward. *grin*

And every now and then I catch myself thinking I’m a dull person. BUT. Then I remember all of the pranks I’ve pulled and the fun I had doing it. And all of the wonderfully tasty things I’ve eaten, and all of the places I’ve visited. And my friends. I don’t think I’d have such great friends if I weren’t marginally interesting. Those are the reassurances I pull around myself like a downy blanket on a chilly morning when I’m moping about being boring.

[photo credit]

One of those stories that beats away dullness with a pitchfork and reminds me of the silly/wonderful days of high school is the time we went of gnome-stealing. You have to understand up front that I AM boring, horribly boring, if I don’t have people to egg me on. Those pranks? Were mostly instigated by some other soul. Thankfully someone invented peer pressure. What would high school be without it?

On the particular occasion of garden ornament theft, I was a senior in high school and one of the oldest girls on the school swim team. You see, every year the junior and seniors teamed up one night to kidnap the sophomores and freshmeat. These girls were taken to Denny’s (a 24-hour diner with abysmal service), fed breakfast, and then taken back to school and made to wear customized t-shirts in front of the entire student body. These t-shirts often had ‘special’ slogans on them. If you didn’t have a whole lot of self-possession, it could be a harrowing experience.

So there I was at the annual sleepover, minding my own business, drinking plain Gatorade and decorating a couple of t-shirts on the night before the big morning, and someone said, “Let’s go gnome-stealing!” It so happened that we were in a part of town where almost every lawn had some sort of ornamentation, be they gnomes, flamingoes, toads, plastic flowers…each one had something seriously ugly in it. And somehow I ended up in the van, tense with fright and consternation, and really, really not sure if it was okay. At least a part of that fear had to do with the fact that the driver had been drinking suspicious Gatorade.

Everyone was taking turns dashing out into the street and grabbing something, slowly filling the back with a variety of lawn ornaments. The jolting starts and stops of the van, the giggles in the background the soft ‘whoosh’ of the van doors opening and closing as another miscreant went off into the night – all were mingling to create an atmosphere of hysteria and hilarity. I was worrying enough for all of us about what would happen if the cops pulled us over. Just then, the door opened, and someone pushed me out of the car.

I stumbled out onto the pavement, indignant and scared, and even though I knew I wasn’t ‘doing the right thing,’ and even as I compulsively listed through all the consequences in my head, I ran as quietly as possible into the nearest yard, snatched up a gnome (they’re heavier than they look!), and sprinted back to the car. After I climbed in I erupted into giggles of relief, just like all the rest.

Later on someone took those lawn ornaments to the rival high school’s sign, arranged them and took a photo, and sent it in to the local newspaper. As far as I know, no one was ever caught. I like to think that most of the gnomes found their way home. But the flamingos probably didn’t, and that fake cactus wouldn’t have stood a chance. Lawn ornament hierarchy at its best, folks.

And THAT is the sum total of my gnome thievery. I told you it was a (very) short career.

I recounted this tale at the behest of Steph Bowe, awesome blogger and author extraordinaire. Her novel, Girl Saves Boy, comes out in September in Australia, and 2011 in the USA. She is hilarious, and she also writes about garden gnomes. You should probably check out her blog.