What We're Reading - The False Princess by Eilis O'Neal

When I read - tried to read - Eragon by Christoper Paolini, I kept thinking that it was pretty good for a first-time author in his teens. But  I became increasingly annoyed with the elementary grammar and stilted dialog, and just couldn't go on. The precociousness of the author was not enough. Not enough for a book that was being widely celebrated,  praised, and  lauded.
Like this from Amazon:  If you loved J.R.R. Tolkien's " The Lord of the Rings", you will fall in love with this series of novel [sic] by Christopher Paolini. - The Man (328 reviewers made a similar statement .)
But really, Eragon is no LOTR.

Reading  The False Princess was equally annoying, although it does start off with an interesting premise.
The King and Queen are given a false prophecy that their baby daughter will be murdered by her 16th birthday and  are advised to place a decoy in her place and have the real princess reared by rustics in a safe location. The time comes when the girl who has believed for her whole life that she is the princess, is released from her role and the real princess brought in. She is turned out of the castle with a new name, but no sadness, consideration, or remorse from "her parents."

I admire people who are imaginative and can write.
But I wonder with this book, if the author unwisely chose her advisers and proofreaders -
maybe too many admiring close friends and relatives.
Her friends should have told her that the names were dull. Thorvaldor, the kingdom. Sinda, the False Princess. The King, The Queen - no names. Always, just The King. The Queen. 

And they may have saved her from this.
On page 84, O'Neal describes Sinda's magic mentor, Philantha,:  
"She was older than Aunt Varil by perhaps ten years. Wrinkles etched her brow and around her eyes, which were a startling shade of green, as sharp as pine needles."

On page 208, the evil conspirator, Melaina:
"She wore her long dark hair pulled away from her face and secured with a silver clip. 
Her green eyes were sharp as pine needles and rimmed with heavy lashes."

The reuse of the simile, "sharp as pine needles," no matter how unique and cleverly describing green eyes,
ruined any effectiveness the phrase may have had. The second time, it stopped the action for me. It reminded me that I was just reading some lines that somebody named Ellis O'Neal had written.
All suspension of disbelief was broken for me.
(And, no, the two women weren't twins.)

I don't recommend that small libraries, like mine in Monessen, purchase this novel for their YA collection. Instead, maybe get more Tamora Pierce for strong, interesting female protagonists.