this book is fine. 
 it had a good amount of violence and intrigue, it had a well-developed sense of atmosphere, i liked the beginning 1/3 of it very much, but then... i don't know. i'm not sure whether my mediocre response is justified or if i had just read too many books right before this that i enjoyed a whole bunch more. this one just kind of beigely occurred. it just felt like something i would put on the tv while i fold the laundry - the book equivalent of NCIS or without a trace. 
 i do think boys would like this. it has a male protagonist, there is a crush situation, but it's not all languid gazing and sparkling kisses, and there is bloodshed and growth and a pretty good father-son showdown. i think it is better written than a lot of fiction targeted towards boys, so i give it a thumbs-up in that department. 
 there are a couple of squitchy moments where a little agenda may have slipped in in the form of global warming schooling, but it skirted by just this side of preachy. that and the very conscious inclusion of every racial group, ("yes, one of those and yes, one of those, and oh - let's have two of those...") was kind of off-putting just because i could sense there was a PC checklist somewhere, and it made me blarg a little. haha this review is going to get me a republican reputation!! dana - come tell me how to be a good republican!! i just felt like i was in some educational pamphlet at times, is all. 
 it's like - today, i was reading a book of essays and stories and poems about queens. the borough. and there was this poem which i think is bad because it sounds like something the chamber of commerce would put on a mural or something to promote queens. here is a portion. this is part of a poem: 
 Queens Museum and Colden Center are community 
 landmarks to frequent with family and friends. 
 Queens Theatre erupts with vitality and emerald trees 
 with concerts by Ugandan children and more to excite us. 
 Hall of Science for budding scientists and curious. In 
 Queens 
 there's so much to do, or relax and stare at a rainbow 
 or invite black, white, red, yellow and brown for rainbow gatherings. Play a little music for your community of neighbors. A little Billy Joel, Lena, Cyndi Lauper with 
 Queens 
 ties, or toss on a bit of Sinatra and Ella for friends 
 to enjoy.They know thoughtful or buoyant talk abounds 
 with us. 
 They leave admiring the breeze and the trees. 
 sorry, that is just terrible. this woman has 6 published books of poetry. 
 i don't know why i am talking about this here, except to note that her poems were so self-consciously diverse, it makes me want to hide. i hate overenthusiastic inclusion poetry. i mean - rainbow gatherings?? if those are anything like rainbow parties, count me right out. 
 hmm - i feel like i have strayed from the matter at hand. alas. blame it on the theraflu, my friends...