Continuing this trend of not really talking about the book for a second, can we have a 15 minutes of hate for this cover? WHO is that supposed to be? Because Ginny spends the whole novel in low-maintanence tourist-wear (t-shirt, white sneakers, braids, cargo shorts) and that is sort of a Thing of which some angst is made.
Contrariwise, there are VERY FEW descriptions of OUTFITS. Or HAIR. Or people’s SLENDER WAISTS, and the novel is mostly about what people are DOING or THINKING and not what they are WEARING. I am not used to this sort of focus in my YA.
The novel, though! Ok, so. Ginny’s aunt Peg was awesome but prone to doing a runner and then she died. Woe. And then Ginny, who is sort of Reserved (in the way that teen girls are) receives a packet of envelopes from Dead Aunt Peg, sending her on a scavanger hunt (to London! And Amsterdam! And Greece!) the prize at the end of which is, presumably, herself (er, Ginny. Not Peg. Peg appears to be concretely, real-worldly dead and not just Harry-Potter dead).
And I had this nutty theory about this being written in 2005, i.e. soooooer long ago, and not Johnson’s Apex of Great for that reason. But The Bermudez Triangle PRECEDES this, and that was so awesome I could have died. Theory: pantsed. I mean, still good, you guys. Ginny is very normal and encounters a sufficient amount of whimsy and the secondary characters are actually people and not just hangers on. Still better than a poke in the eye with a sharp Twi-lite. But the banter is not as banty and the jokes feel stilted and whether I ever love a Johnson as much as I loved her short story in Let It Snow remains to be seen.
Because I do need to find out what’s in that Last Little Blue Envelope.
Eight caterpillars, and pending.