Belly Up

by Stuart Gibbs
ages: 10+
First sentence: “I’d just been busted for giving the chimpanzees water balloons when I first heard something was wrong at Hippo River.”
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Teddy Fitzroy has had a charmed life. The son of a gorilla researcher and a nature photographer, he’s spent most of his life surrounded by animals in the Congo.

Now, at age 12, he’s found himself smack in the middle of the Texas Hill Country, at FunJungle, the worlds biggest, best, and newest zoo. It’s supposed to be state-of-the art, best researchers, finest environments for the animals, a whole safari experience without having to go to Africa. Except, Henry the Hippo — the mascot, and a huge, ornery, animal — has turned up (literally) dead. It looks like natural causes at first, but upon a closer look, it turns out that Henry was murdered. And it seems it’s up to Teddy (and his new friend, Summer, who is also the daughter of the park owner) to figure out who did it and why.

There’s adventure as Teddy and Summer try to unravel the mystery before them, with some close scrapes. It’s not so hard of a mystery that the reader can’t at least try to figure it out, but not so easy as to be predictable. It’s entertaining, and yet with all the animals, it kind of feels (I’m hoping it is at least) a little educational. If anything, it has a fabulous balance to it: well-written and engaging plus entertaining and kid-friendly.

Quite enjoyable, in other words.

(Just for the record: because this is a Cybils nominee, I’ve been asked to make sure y’all know this is my opinion only, and not that of the panel.)

Starcrossed

by Elizabeth C. Bunce
ages: 13+
First sentence: “I couldn’t think.”
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I adored Elizabeth Bunce’s first novel, A Curse Dark as Gold, so when I found out that she had another (thanks, Leila), I knew I would read it. And I kind of had an inkling I would love it. Which, of course, I did.

Without giving too much away, sixteen-year-old Digger is a thief in the city of Gerse. She’s made a living, ever since she ran away from the convent at age 11, stealing things for people. It’s been a good way to survive, especially in the increasingly intolerant and restrictive atmosphere of the capital city. Except, this time, the job went horribly wrong. The authorities were waiting, and Digger just barely escaped with her life. Twenty-four hours later, disguised, she falls in with a bunch of nobles and ends up in a mountain retreat with them. Where she finds that nothing is quite as it seems, especially since she’s being blackmailed to find out all the secrets.

It’s a complex world Bunce has created, fascinating in its religion and politics. I would have been captivated if it had only been that. She reveals things slowly, peeling back layer by layer, to keep you guessing and wondering and hoping. But it’s more than that: the characters, especially Digger, are fascinating. (Okay, it helps that I’m half in love with one of the men, yet again.) Like the religion and politics of the world, they are fairly complex; you can sense that even the stereotypical ones are hiding some sort of secret. Maybe it won’t be revealed in this book, but it’s there, lurking under the surface.

It’s the first in a series (I hope; there’s a sequel due out next year), something which I can’t wait to sink my teeth into.

Out of My Mind

by Sharon M. Draper
ages: 10+
First sentence: “Words.”
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Melody is very, very smart. She’s known words and ideas and concepts since she was very little. She loves music, and can see colors when it plays. But, she has no way to tell anyone any of this. Melody has cerebral palsey, and while she can hear and understand, she just can’t communicate. Which is incredibly frustrating to her.

She’s got her parents and her neighbor, Mrs. V, on her side: encouraging her, teaching her, trying to communicate with her. The book recounts the ups and downs she’s experienced her whole life — from birth to the fifth grade — as she tries to figure out how to communicate. She can accept most of her limitations, but she needs a way to express the words in her head. It’s an intriguing process, frustrating and hopeful, as she goes through it all, trying to figure out where she fits in this world.

If this is ever a treatise of the hopelessness of doctors and school teachers (even if there is occasionally one that “gets” it), then I don’t know what is. But, it’s also a treatise on the determination of one girl (and her family) and what that can do. It is, in many ways, a “message” book: disabled people are NOT different than the rest of us, and just because they look or act different doesn’t mean they are not worth getting to know and understand.

But Draper presents this in such a way so that the book doesn’t feel like a heavy-handed message book. It’s heartfelt, and you end up both cheering for and crying with Melody as she recounts her experience. It’s wonderfully written, and yet simple enough to be accessible to middle graders. It’s a story worth telling, and definitely one worth reading.

(Just for the record: because this is a Cybils nominee, I’ve been asked to make sure y’all know this is my opinion only, and not that of the panel.)

Happy Thanksgiving!

I thought about putting up reviews today, but… it’s Thanksgiving. And while I know not all of my readers are American, it’s still a holiday.

One in which I attempt to cook a 25 pound turkey for 18 people by this afternoon…

At any rate (I just realized I missed my blogoversary; how did I manage that this year!), after six years of blogging, I’m still very thankful for my little corner of cyberspace (and that people visit), for the friends I’ve made and met, for the books you’ve all recommended, and for the way blogging has shaped my reading over the years.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

Library Loot 2010-42

No pithy comments, today. Just the loot. 😀

Picture Books:
Aggie the Brave, by Lori Reis/Illus. by Frank W. Dormer
Bats at the Ballgame, by Brian Lies
I Really, Really Need Actual Ice Skates, by Lauren Child
Thank You, Miss Doover, by Robin Pulver/Illus. by Stephanie Roth Sisson
The Scarecrow’s Dance, by Jane Yolen/Illus. by Bagram Ibatoulline

Middle Grade:
Julia Gillian And The Dream Of The Dog, by Alison McGhee
The Popularity Papers: Research for the Social Improvement and General Betterment of Lydia Goldblatt and Julie Graham-Chang, by Amy Ingatow
Heart of a Samurai, by Margi Preus

Adult Fiction:
The Importance Of Being Earnest, by Oscar Wilde
Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe: A Novel, by Fannie Flagg

The roundup is either at Adventures of an Intrepid Reader or The Captive Reader. Obligatory FTC note: the links are provided through my Amazon Associates account. If you click through and actually purchase one of these books, I’ll get a teeny, tiny payment. But, since no one ever does, and it’s SO much easier using the associates account to put up these links, I’m going to keep doing it.

Shooting Kabul

by N. H. Senzai
ages: 10+
First sentence: “It’s a perfect night to run away, thought Fadi, casting a brooding look at the bright sheen of the moon through the cracked backseat window.”
Support your local independent bookstore: buy it there!

The target age group for this book were barely born when 9/11 happened. They missed all the stress (though they live with the aftermath, not having any idea what it was all like before), the tension, the fear. I know C was barely 18 months when the Twin Towers went down, and was blissfully clueless about it all. Even M, who was five, only has a foggy memory of what it was like during those days.

Enter Shooting Kabul. Set in the time right around the attacks, it gives us a peek into what life was like in Afghanistan at that time. Fadi and his family are intellectuals; they had lived in the U.S. while his father got a PhD before returning to Kabul to help the Taliban (yes, you read that right) eradicate the poppy fields and convince farmers to actually plant food to feed the Afghani people. Unfortunately, as the Taliban became more and more extreme, Fadi’s family’s lives were in danger and they managed to escape. Except, in the desperate attempt to get out, somehow the Fadi’s little sister, Miriam, gets separated from the family and lost.

Fadi blames himself (as does the rest of the family), and in San Francisco he keeps trying to concoct ways to get back to Afghanistan and find Miriam. It’s heartbreaking to think about the weight this poor boy is carrying around. As weeks and months go by, it seems less and less likely that they will find her. Especially since his father hasn’t been able to take a teaching job, and is forced to drive taxis, which barely covers rent and food. Things are tough, and get tougher with the racism and fear after 9/11. So, Fadi enters a photography contest with the hopes of winning the grand prize — two tickets to India — so he can do his part to find Miriam.

First off: it does have a happy ending. Miriam is found, and the way it happens is quite surprising and actually very realistic, which I found wonderfully satisfying. As was the rest of the book; I liked the use of photography, how Fadi stood up to the bullies without using violence, and the glimpse into what the lives of Afghanis are like, both in Agfhanistan and in the U.S. It’s a good book to interest kids in the area, to give them a picture of what life was like nearly 10 years ago (and remind them that things aren’t that different now), and give them a good, engaging story on top of all that.

Excellent.

(Just for the record: because this is a Cybils nominee, I’ve been asked to make sure y’all know this is my opinion only, and not that of the panel.)

Milo: Sticky Notes and Brain Freeze

by Alan Silberberg
ages: 10+
First sentence: “Summer Goodman never knew what hit her.”
Support your local independent bookstore: buy it there!

This is not your average mom-is-dead book. Sure, Milo’s mom is dead; she passed away from cancer a couple years ago. But, Milo, now eleven and in his fifth house starting another new school, is determined to push past the fog and make a halfway decent go this time.

It’s not a deep book, plot-wise; it’s basically the tale of Milo putting one foot in front of the other. Sometimes he succeeds: he really likes his new best friend, Marshall; grateful for the fact that they can just hang out and drink Freezies, and that Marshall doesn’t really push or demand much. Sometimes he fails: his other neighbor, Hillary, tries to befriend Milo, but he’s so caught up in having a total and complete crush on Summer that he doesn’t notice Hillary (not in a romantic way) until it’s nearly too late. Underneath it all, though, is the pain of loss. He misses having his mother around, especially the little things.

Instead of just wallowing in the loss (well, they did that already; this book is about learning to move on), he not only figures out a way to mourn his mother, but to help his family understand and accept the loss that they all went through. And it’s done with humor, love, and some good friends. (The ending even made me cry; not the sad kind of cry, either.)

Very touching and sweet.

(Just for the record: because this is a Cybils nominee, I’ve been asked to make sure y’all know this is my opinion only, and not that of the panel.)

Sunday Salon: Finding an old Favorite

First, a little background:

For the last couple of months, I have been working one afternoon a week as a volunteer at the library. I have learned several things about libraries and myself, like while I can alphabetize quite nicely, the whole number thing with the Dewey decimal system kind of throws me. Why do we need a 100.1 and a 100.11 and a 100.01? So, while I shelve non-fiction once in a while, mostly I stick to fiction and mystery and science fiction/fantasy and romance (oh, I love reading the jacket flaps on those) because it’s just ABC order and I can do that.

As I’ve mentioned before, I read a lot of (what I think of now as) crap when I was in high school. With M in high school, and making some of the same free-time reading choices, I think I can sense what drove it in me: a need for brain fluff, a need for release. For the longest time, though, while I could remember much of what I read, one series of books that I loved eluded me. I remembered that there were state names as the titles, that it was vaguely a historical romance, and that I read as many as I could. For years I looked off and on, just to satiate my curiosity with no luck.

Then, to my amazement, as I was shelving this past Thursday, I found them!

It’s the Wagons West series by Dana Fuller Ross. I was so happy, I did a little dance. Seriously. Now, I need to decide if I want to go back and read them all, just so I can see if they are as wonderful/corny as I remember them being.

Maybe I’ll make it a project for next year.

How I, Nicky Flynn, Finally Get a Life (And a Dog)

by Art Corriveau
ages: 11+
First sentence: “We have this dog now.”
Support your local independent bookstore: buy it there!

Nicky Flynn is not a happy camper. He’s not quite 12 years old, but his life the last few months has been turned completely and totally upside down. His parents split up, his mom dragged him away from his comfortable house, his good school, and landed in Charlestown, a not-so-prosperous area of Boston. She’s unreliable, completely worn out from her job as a secretary, and Nicky suspects that she’s not letting him see his dad. To top it off, on a whim she brought home this German Shepard, Reggie, who was a former seeing eye dog. Since his mother isn’t showing any interest in taking care of the dog, it’s just another thing Nicky has to do.

And yet, as Nicky starts walking Reggie around, he discovers that Reggie has a past, and that that past is as bit of a mystery, and through a lot of bumps and scrapes, figures out that maybe, just maybe, Reggie is the only living being he can count on in this life. Sometimes, really, the dog is your best friend. If you can only realize it in time.

It’s one of those books where the majority of adults are complete basket cases. Nicky’s not terribly sympathetic, either: he’s angry and has a temper as well as a bit of a lying problem. And yet, because the adults are so much worse, it’s quite easy to sympathize with Nicky: he is that way just because everything around him is falling apart. It’s a therapeutic book, one that looks at the aftermath of a messy divorce and sees not the roses but the thorns for most of the story. And yet, it’s depressing: there’s a lot of hope in the book (Hooray for a dog book where the dog doesn’t die!), and the relationship between Nicky and Reggie is quite wonderful (as far as dog-human relationships go).

In the end, in spite of the adults I wanted to scream at, an enjoyable book.

(Just for the record: because this is a Cybils nominee, I’ve been asked to make sure y’all know this is my opinion only, and not that of the panel.)

What Happened on Fox Street

by Tricia Springstubb
ages: 10+
First sentence: “Fox Street was a dead end.”
Support your local independent bookstore: buy it there!

Mo Wren loves her street. She’s lived there her whole life, and it’s her whole world. She has everything she needs: people to cut hair, tutor, watch after her and her little sister Dottie, her best friend comes to visit there every summer, and even the boy down the street is beginning to look interesting. Except things are starting to change. And Mo doesn’t like that.

First bad news is that her best friend, Mercedes, says that it might be her last summer on Fox Street since her mother’s marriage to a man who’s “comfortable” (ie, not rich, but much better off than they used to be) is changing things. They might also take Mercedes’ grandmother, Da, to come live with them, too. And Mo’s dad, who hates his job as a city water and sewer employee and has just been scraping by in the years since her mom’s sudden death, is thinking about selling out to a developer to go after his dream of owning a sports bar/restaurant. Her little sister, Dottie, is a wild child without discipline, taken to wandering the neighborhood adding to her bottle collection; what else can you expect from a girl without a mother?

Somehow, though this quiet (though sometimes tumultuous), yet heartfelt story, Mo figures out that not all change is bad, that she is strong enough to make the changes necessary. And that it will probably all work out for the best. A very hopeful, charming little book.

(Just for the record: because this is a Cybils nominee, I’ve been asked to make sure y’all know this is my opinion only, and not that of the panel.)