Published by Delacorte on October 6, 2009
Genres: Dystopian, Science Fiction, Young Adult
If you ain’t scared, you ain’t human.
When Thomas wakes up in the lift, the only thing he can remember is his name. He’s surrounded by strangers—boys whose memories are also gone.
Nice to meet ya, shank. Welcome to the Glade.
Outside the towering stone walls that surround the Glade is a limitless, ever-changing maze. It’s the only way out—and no one’s ever made it through alive.
Everything is going to change.
Then a girl arrives. The first girl ever. And the message she delivers is terrifying.
Remember. Survive. Run.
I am a hoarder of the written word. If it’s printed across a page or illuminated on an eReader, I will devour it. But I have a particular soft spot for YA novels. I think the thing that resonates most about them with me, is that they make me feel like a kid again. I don’t just mean the age in particular, more that they make me feel like a kid READING again. As an adult, there are books that I fangirl over and cradle in a Gollum-like fashion, but I maintain that just like boy/girl first love in adolescence, first book love cannot be experienced in adulthood the way it does in childhood. I think that our staple favorites of childhood very much make up the adults we are today, and reading YA novels as a not so YA, is the closest we can come to emulating that feeling again. REALLY good YA novels are sometimes able to defy the rules of time, and evoke that EXACT feeling again.
The Maze Runner by James Dashner is one of those.
Dashner took me from helpless voyeur with Thomas in the blind ascent into The Glade via the dark elevator, to an active participant in the survivalist existence that Dashner artfully paints for his readers. I was riveted from the start, and turned each page with the desperate hunger of an orphan from Oliver Twist, begging my literary task master, “Please, Sir. More.” Each new discovery was but a tiny balm to my imagination and it’s voracious need to figure out the puzzle tattooed across my mind’s eye. Thomas, Teresa, Newt, Albie, Chuck……have taken my imagination hostage, and have taken up residence in my heart. My UPS driver will feel not unlike one of the Beatles disembarking a plane into the Americas when he steps off the delivery truck with my copy of The Scorch Trials as I gently accost him with a disturbing combination of a teary eyed, Chesire cat smile of gratitude at gifting me with the next installment of this fantastic story.
I put a paperback edition of The Maze Runner in the hands of my eleven year old daughter days after I completed it. I can’t wait for it to become a part of the person she’ll grow up to be.
Five out of five stars