I have to admit (and this is one of those really embarrassing moments) that when I first heard the buzz about this book, I thought “Jacqueline Wilson; I’ve read a book by her. It was all right, but I’m not really that interested in reading another one.” Then I read more about Candyfloss, and how Jacqueline Wilson was one of the top British writers, and how her books have a “cheerful integrity and lack of sentimentality” (Slate.com) and I started thinking that this wasn’t the same person I was thinking of.

Then it hit me: I was mixing her up with Jacqueline Woodson. So, for the record:

Jacqueline Woodson:

and Jacqueline Wilson:.

Not the same person. Not even close.

So, when I saw Candyfloss at the library, I threw it in the pile, figuring M would like reading it. Which she did. And so, because I had some spare time, I picked it up, too. And I thought it was incredibly cute. I know that’s an overused word, and not exactly a positive one, but I think it really describes Candyfloss well. I think that it’s because it’s cute, and accessible, that the deeper themes — of separation, dealing with divorce, and making and keeping friends — come across that much better.

Floss has a problem: her step-dad, Steve, has gotten a promotion and is relocating (for six months) to Sydney. In Australia. Initially, Floss was really excited, but then she got to thinking: what about her dad? He’s not exactly well-off; he runs a run-down cafe making chip butties (they are these, in case you were wondering. I was.). Floss decides, after much thinking, that what she really wants to do is stay with her dad. And the book is the story of that decision.

I think one of the reasons this was so cute was that that the characters were so down-to-earth. I loved Floss and her father; sure he’s a flake and she’s kind of odd, but they’re good people. And normal. I liked the differences between Floss’s friend Rhiannon and her other friend Susan. I liked Rose — the candyfloss lady that Floss and her dad meet at the fair — and the whole fair atmosphere. I loved the British slang that was littered throughout the book. (I liked the semi-snide comment in the glossary at the back: “slowcoach — slowpoke. Margot tries to talk with an American accent, but she’s not very good at it. I wonder if you guys ever try to talk with a British accent?”) I won’t say that this book is perfect, but I will say that it was very good.

And I’ll probably check out Jacqueline Wilson’s other work sometime.