Johnny and the Dead by Terry Pratchett. 

No one should need me to tell them that Terry Pratchett writes utterly enchanting young adult fiction. My first exposure was to The Amazing Maurice and his Educated Rodents. Pratchett's Johnny Maxwell series is one of those wonderful YA titles that's similarly accessible to children of pretty much all ages, as well as adults cloyingly referred to as the “young at heart.” This particular novel is second in a loose trilogy that begins with Only You Can Save Mankind, but I haven't gotten ahold of it yet, and had no problem following on with this second entry. Johnny, a middle-school aged boy, begins to speak to the dead in his local cemetary, who protest the destruction of their “home”; naturally, his friends think he's gone a bit funny, and the inhabitants of the cemetary start coming up with their own solutions to the problem. Pratchett also manages to throw in a bit of national history and a comic commentary on the shift in social mores, resulting in a timeless sort of children's novel that reminds me greatly of the works of Madeline L'Engle.

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows by JK Rowling.  

The seventh Harry Potter book – if you've read this far into the series, you've probably already snagged a copy and have made up your mind one way or another. While I couldn't avoid the constant signs and markdowns a couple of months back, I wasn't sufficiently motivated to queue up on release eve for a deal or slap down retail price for The Boy Who Lived. My first impression was the book's relative lightness – just around 600 pages. The second was that Rowling's writing hasn't gotten any more grown-up with her characters – the plotting and pacing is definitely one of a ya novel, and not a terribly sophisticated one.

Young Bond: Silverfin, Charlie Higson.  While it's a bit disheartening to find James Bond slickly packaged for a new generation, I'm a bit surprised it hadn't already happened. The book is a serviceable blend of 50s boys-own-adventure stories crossed with the English boarding school tale. Nothing new, but not terrible, either, this should appeal to fans of the ya Artemis Fowl and Hardy Boys adventures.

The Seventh Tower Volumes 1-3, Garth Nix.  I've avoided putting up a real entry for this, because I still hope to actually finish the series at some point, but it's becoming harder. Like many readers, I was blown away by Nix's YA Abhorsen trilogy, and the Seventh Tower packaging sounded attractive enough to pick it up. (From a purely aesthetic standpoint, the two Scholastic omnibus volumes are satisfyingly hefty and sturdily bound with attractive covers. I'd want them on my shelves even if I didn't necessarily read them). After reading the first 3, and part of the fourth, I've come to a standstill. Maybe it's because they're aimed at a slightly younger audience, but so much of the plot feels exceedingly contrived and overly questy. I don't know how much more of the nifty light-jewel descriptions I can take.  That said, elementary age fantasy addicts should find much to like in these tales of child heroes with powers well at ease in Rowling's universe.

  Abarat by Clive Barker.   Barker's first illustrated children's book arrived around the same time that several other adult mainstream authors were trying their hand at the younger set - Neil Gaiman had had a hit with Coraline, and Michael Chabon turned out Summerland.  I remember reading The Thief of Always when I was much younger, thinking that it reminded me of a deliberately nostalgic Bradbury tale.  While Thief got away with it, Abarat is far too deliberately young.  Not being the target audience, I can't say for certain how much young readers like slightly didactic novels, but its my impression that YA is becoming far more similar to its grown-up counterparts.  What's strange is that Barker should be so well known for his horror and return to a writing style evocative of the '30's or '40's. 

Un Lun Dun, China Mieville.  A surprisingly charming children's tale from the author of Perdido Street Station.  For a time it seemed very in vogue for adult dark fantasy and SF authors to tackle the YA section.  Mieville's entry is for younger than most, peppered with charming drawings of anthropomorphic milk cartons and torn umbrellas. 

Dark Cities Underground, Lisa Goldstein. A book chosen on the basis of cover and cover blurb alone, (thanks to the fantastic bookswapping service Bookmooch), Dark Cities Underground is perhaps my most satisfying blind grab this year.

The Water Mirror , Kai Meyer, Elizabeth D. Crawford (Translator).  A brilliantly immersive YA fantasy set in a magical version of Venice populated by weird inhuman mermaids, lords of hell, mummy armies, stone lions, and the "Flowing Queen." But such a dreadful cliffhanger really isn't fair! I can only hope the next two books are translated quickly.

Tanglewreck, Jeanette Winterson. Winterson's first children's novel retains the beautifully lucid prose that characterized her adult works, while literalizing her notion of time and love. It's a lovely endeavor, though perhaps a bit too simplistic for its thoughts. The villians weren't nearly as villianous as some of the truly scary children's books of late, and her heroine seems just a bit too naive for a modern child. But the idea itself is lovely and would easily spin into a series - it reminded me at times of Susan Cooper, C.S. Lewis, and those moments in Pullman's Dark Materials trilogy where he isn't desperately preaching against the church at the expense of his characters.

Twilight, Stephenie Meyer.  Twilight is young adult literature of the sort I would have expected to see about 10 years ago - it lacks much of the edgy, controversial subject matter more common today, and the language is simplistic, though not juvenile.  Simply put, it's a sweet little fantasy story aimed at the young girl still enamored with the romantic ideal of vampires - love without the slasher horror, with just a bit of danger to keep things interesting.  There's a forward-moving, dreamlike quality to Meyer's writing, and it speaks to her skill that the novel never seems to drag despite its nearly 500 page length.  An otherworldly cousin to Tuck Everlasting, or Bradbury's nostalgic novels of youth, the novel ends somewhat inconclusively, apparently dovetailing into the sequel, New Moon.