Geeky Naming

For this week‘s edition of Weekly Geeks, we’re going to take a closer look at character names. What are some of your favorite character names?

Go to Google or a baby name site like this one or this one, and look up a favorite character’s name. What does their name mean? Do you think the meaning fits the character? Why or why not?

If you’d like, look up your own name as well and share the meaning.

Just for fun, I asked my girls.

M said: Philippa Gaunt, from The Children of the Lamp series, by P.B. Kerr. Philippa’s source is Philippos, a Greek name meaning “Horse lover.” The character loves animals, so M thinks it fits. Though Philippa prefers cute, cuddly animals to horses.

C said: Gregor from Gregor the Overlander, by Suzanne Collins (which took a bit for her to get into, but she really, really liked). Gregor’s source is Gregorios, a Greek name meaning “Vigilant.” She thinks it fits because Gregor is really, really concerned about watching over his little sister, Boots, in the underland.

I’m going to pick Arwyn from Lord of the Rings (J.R.R. Tolkien, but you knew that), mostly because it’s the only character name I’ve ever considered giving one of my girls. (It was A, if you must know, because she was born a week before Return of the King was released. And yes, I am that sort of geek. I didn’t, in the end, because I figured she would kill me when she grew up.) Arwyn’s source is a Welsh expression meaning “Muse.” And yes, I do think that fits, especially in the books, because Arwyn doesn’t actually do anything, but sit around being pretty and inspiring Aragon.

And, for good measure, my name’s source is a Greek expression meaning “Bee or honey.” Which seems to fit, since I always need to be doing something.

And the Winners Are:

From the blog:

The 2009 Cybils Winners

Easy Readers

I Love My New Toy
written by Mo Willems
Hyperion

I Love My New Toy is a perfect example of an early reader book. Using simple, repetitive text and charming illustrations, Mo Willems gives the youngest reader a title full of emotion, humor, and action. Children can easily relate to this wonderful story of friendship at its worst and its best.

Fantasy & Science Fiction

Middle Grade

The Graveyard Book
written by Neil Gaiman
HarperCollins

Transcendent writing and wry bits of humor brought The Graveyard Book to the top of a strong field of contenders. Gaiman pulls off the trifecta of a ripping plot, nuanced characters and sublime prose. He submerges the reader into standard horror subject matter but freshens and modernizes it, never being predictable. The orphaned Nobody Owens, or Bod to his other-worldly friends, is being raised in a cemetery, where he masters a few tricks of the ghostly trade. His guardians have to hope it’s enough to protect him from the assassin who killed Bod’s family, and who lurks somewhere beyond the graveyard gates. This riff on the Jungle Book balances humor, heart and darkness, creating a winning read.

Young Adult

The Hunger Games
written by Suzanne Collins
Scholastic

The Hunger Games wins for its broad crossover appeal, complicated moral issues, and sociopolitical satire. In a richly imaginative twist on a familiar dystopian landscape, Suzanne Collins creates a deadly game using child combatants to explore the dehumanizing effects of war and violence. Katniss struggles against overwhelming odds while being groomed and polished for what could be her televised fight to the death. At each agonizing choice or fearful alliance, the reader is confronted with the same questions Katniss faces. How far would you go to save yourself? Can you meet violence with violence, yet preserve your humanity?

Fiction Picture Books

How to Heal a Broken Wing
written and illustrated by Bob Graham
Candlewick Press

This deceptively simple book achieves so much more than telling the story of a boy who notices a wounded bird in a busy city. By alternating single and double-page spreads with clusters of small panels, Graham creates almost a film strip of time passing. The artistic technique lends both intimacy and urgency to the boy and his family’s precarious mission to save the injured pigeon. The text is commendably lean, supporting the strong visual narrative and keeping a lighter touch to the theme. The cartoon-style, watercolor illustrations provide the perfect tone, and the accessible story offers connections for picture book readers of all ages. For all of these reasons, How to Heal a Broken Wing distinguishes itself as the rare picture book that speaks quietly, yet has volumes to say about courage, kindness, and hope.

Graphic Novels

Elementary/Middle Grade

Rapunzel’s Revenge
written by Shannon Hale and Dean Hale
illustrated by Nathan Hale
Bloomsbury USA

“What made this book stand out to the judges was that it takes a well-known story and does something recognizable, but unique, creating an adventure which readers of both sexes can enjoy. Those readers will get swept up in the rawness of the emotions presented. The art is bright and leaps from the pages, but the images don’t overshadow the story or mask weaknesses in the plot. The story and images carried the weight equally, were well-paced, engaging, and generally solid.”

Young Adult

Emiko Superstar
written by Mariko Tamaki
illustrated by Steve Ralston
Minx

“This title rises above a traditional outsider/teen angst tale because of its protagonist’s interest in her local performance artists, a subject that hasn’t been done to death in YA. The story is also novel simply because it’s about a teen exploring art and find how it can change you. Ralston’s art is an important aspect of the story, working in tandem with Tamaki’s unique story.”

Middle-Grade Fiction

The London Eye Mystery
written by Siobhan Dowd
David Fickling Books

Brother and sister, Ted and Kat, take their cousin Salim to see the London Eye, the city’s gigantic Ferris wheel. While Ted and Kat watch, Salim gets into one of the glass pods, but thirty minutes later he doesn’t get off. So the siblings set out to find their cousin. Complicating the situation, Ted’s brain “runs on a different operating system” from other people’s, which makes him a lot better at facts and figures than he is at reading people. Narrated in Ted’s voice, this is a page-turner that brings London to life and takes readers inside a powerfully rational mind. The London Eye Mystery shows off kids’ natural ingenuity and proves that difference can be a strength, as Ted and Kat work to solve the irresistible riddle of their cousin’s disappearance.

Non-Fiction MG/YA

Non-Fiction Picture Books

Nic Bishop Frogs
written and illustrated by Nic Bishop
Scholastic Nonfiction

Nic Bishop is known for his jaw-dropping nature photography. Open a book cover with his name on it and you’ll be greeted with stunning action shots, exquisite attention to detail, and sharp, sharp close-ups that inspire awe. Couple that with Bishop’s equally crisp, up-close and personal writing in Nic Bishop Frogs, and you’ve got an award-winning combination of text and illustration that captures a child-like wonder about a topic that is anything but new. That’s quite a feat. Bishop’s language is interesting and playful, and his analogies and references are right on, squarely aimed at where kids’ heads are at. Simple word choices never talk down, but will allow newish readers to find success easily. The book flows logically, covering life cycle, defense, diet, habitat, and other essentials you’d expect to find in an animal book, but the organization is refreshingly kid-friendly, meandering through the topics as though Bishop and the reader were having a conversation while sitting in a marsh waiting for a frog. It’s intimate and personal and accessible—frogs as you’ve never seen them before. Fascinating process notes are sure to inspire young photographers.

Poetry

Honeybee
written by Naomi Shihab Nye
HarperCollins

Honeybee is a hybrid of delicious poetry and lyrical prose poems on wide-ranging themes blending science and observation alongside personal memoir and political challenge. There are ideas buzzing here that young people have probably felt in their gut, but may not have verbalized. Isn’t this what poetry is supposed to do?

Young Adult Fiction

Disreputable History of Frankie Landau-Banks, The
written by E Lockhart
Hyperion

It’s a setting we know. It’s a theme we’re familiar with. But with The Disreputable History of Frankie Landau-Banks, E. Lockhart takes common features of teen fiction and turns them into a smart, fun, multi-layered, action-filled, coming-of-age story with a unique treatment and fresh voice. Frankie’s feminist-fueled and P.G. Wodehouse-inspired antics at boarding school are hilarious, but also tinged with the sometimes-harsh truths of growing up. A book complex and clever enough that wildly diverse readers will each take, and love, something different out of the narrative.

Becoming Jane Austen

by Jon Spence
ages: adult (though it could be read by 12+, if they’re interested)
First sentence: “In 1704, the presumed heir to the Austen family fortune, John Austen, lay dying of consumption at the age of thirty-four.”

Shall we start with another confession? (I’m in a confessional mood this week…) I picked up this book because I recently got the movie from Netflix and it made me curious about the book. (I saw the movie in the theater when it came out and had the same reaction, but never followed up on it.) I also recently saw Miss Austen Regrets, too, and between the two, I really wanted to know what was fact, and what was fiction.

Well, in the case of Becoming Jane, a lot was fiction. But that’s getting ahead of myself.

In this biography of Austen’s life, Spence takes a look at how Austen’s life is intimately reflected in her work. I haven’t ever read a biography of Austen before, so I’m not quite sure how it measures up scholarly, and I won’t say it’s a brilliant biography, but it’s a good one. Spence’s writing is accessible and interesting (though I think at times he gets a bit annoying with his perhapses and possiblys, but then since Cassandra burned most of their letters, it’s hard to know much about Jane, and a lot of it is perhaps and possibly…). And a lot of it is because Jane herself (probably much to her chagrin) is an interesting person. Or, at least, has become interesting because of her books.

So. What did I learn? Well, first off, the whole Jane-Tom Lefroy thing is only 15 pages in the book, and it’s all very sketchy. Spence asserts that, at least in Jane’s mind, they were in love (engaged possibly), and that affected her writing. She wrote “First Impressions” (which became Pride and Prejudice) around the time she knew Tom, and Spence writes this:

The energetic intensity of Pride and Prejudice attests to the effect that falling in love had on Jane Austen. It is an irrepressibly happy novel. Between October 1796 and August of the next year Jane wrote “First Impressions”; it was her unique way of thinking about Tom Lefroy and celebrate her delight at being in love — and at being loved. The novel that she later called “my own darling Child” was to be a gift of love for Tom Lefroy.

I have no idea if this is true, but it makes sense.

I also liked that Spence points out Austen’s propensity to switch genders from what she observes to what she writes. Tom — witty and clever — became Elizabeth, while she — reserved with strangers, seemingly haughty, yet loving to family — became Darcy. It happens others. I also enjoyed learning about the ebb and flow of her life and how it affected her work. Aside from P&P, Spence spent the most time on Mansfield Park, since that book had the longest gestation (10 years) of all her novels. He said this (which made me rethink at least my reaction to the novel):

We think we ought to like Fanny Price more than we do the fine, handsome Bertram girls and the warm, lively Mary Crawford. That it is difficult to do so, in our feelings and our reason, is precisely what Austen was determined to show. Our values tell us one thing, our hearts another. Mansfield Park is Austen’s most profound attempt to capture this inevitable confusion of feelings in human life — and her strategy was to make readers themselves confused in their own feelings about the characters in the novel.

And this:

Nothing is fixed and definite, and paradoxically the appearance of everything being so heightens our sense that it is not. Austen creates such a strong, distinct possibility in Mansfield Park that things did not have to turn out as they do that we are left in confusion. What might have happened is as real as what did happen. This disturbs us, makes us angry. We have been arguing vehemently with Jane Austen about the ending of Mansfield Park for two hundred years, exactly as she intended.

Fascinating, no? (Well, maybe not. But I thought so.)

Anyway. He does touch on all her other novels (though not so much on Northanger Abbey; it does tend to get slighted), as well her juvenalia and the fragment of the book she was writing when she died. I felt like the book ended abruptly, but overall I enjoyed the glimpse into Austen’s life; I think reading about her actually does heighten the enjoyment of her books, even if the whole Tom Lefroy thing was a bit blown out of proportion. And this is a good place for those of us without the desire to go and write a thesis on her, to get that knowledge.

The Bermudez Triangle

by Maureen Johnson
ages: 14+
First sentence: “The host stood at his podium under the pink-and-yellow neon arch and surveyed the three girls who had just come through the door.”

Things you need to know: Nina, Mel and Avery are best friends. Have been forever, or at least since they were five. The summer before their senior year, Nina heads off to Stanford to attend a conference. And Mel and Avery, left at home working dead-end jobs at a local restaurant, realize that they’re in love. Or at least think they are. And when Nina comes home, everything changes.

Why this is controversial: Mel and Avery are girls. Yup. There’re gay characters. Well, only one of them ends up being “really” gay (is that such a thing?); the other’s just wondering and questioning and trying to figure herself out. Obviously, this is disturbing to (many) people.

Why this is silly: They’re just people, kids trying to figure things out. And Johnson’s exploring whether or not a friendship could handle the stress of two of them dating (and hiding it; I think the hiding it was the most stressful part), and how these individual characters, who think they have known all about each other, would deal with something as monumental as one of them coming out of the closet.

My favorite thing: the guys. Actually, just Parker. He’s a guy the girls pick up as a friend… and he’s just awesome. There when they need him, willing to lend a smile or a shoulder. He was great comic relief, as well as just being an all-around good guy. Is it bad that in a book full of girls, I like the guy best? The girls, themselves, seemed a bit cardboard for my case (the overachiever, the aggressive one, the shy one), but I found that over the course of the book they kind of grew on me, especially Mel. In the end, she was my favorite. But, I still like Parker best.

It’s a good book — not my favorite of Johnson’s — but a good, solid story, one where friends stick it out through thick and thin, and realize that sometimes being friends — just being friends — and having friends is the most important thing.

Library Loot #6

The roundup is over at A Striped Armchair.

Small haul yesterday. I tried to keep it light so I can catch up on the large pile by my bed…

For A/K:
Dora’s Day at the Beach
Gabriella’s Song, by Candace Fleming/Illus. Giselle Potter
Valentine’s Day, by Gail Gibbons**
Arthur’s Valentine, by Marc Brown**
Kitty Cat, Kitty Cat, Are You Waking Up?, by Bill Martin Jr. and Michael Sampson/Illus. Laura J. Bryant
Pirates, Ho!, by Sarah L. Thomson/Illus. Stephen Gilpin**
Twelve Terrible Things, by Marty Kelley
What To Do About Alice?, by Barbara Kerley/Illus. Edwin Fotheringham**
There’s a Wolf at the Door: Five Classic Tales, by Zoe B. Alley/Illus. R.W. Alley**

For M:
The Magician, by Michael Scott*

For me:
Graceling, by Kristin Shore*

*Ones M read.
**Picture books we really liked.

The Four Agreements

by Don Miguel Ruiz
ages: any
First sentence: “Thousands of years ago, the Toltec were know throughout southern Mexico as ‘women and men of knowledge.'”

This begins with a confession: yesterday I completely and utterly lost it with the kids. It was over something ridiculous — they had eaten some cookies that I had set aside for a dinner I was taking to someone else yesterday evening — but I totally and completely wigged out. (No one was hurt, though all were scared.)

In the course of trying to calm down, my eyes fell upon this book, and I picked it up to flip through. And ended up reading the whole thing. I’m not saying it changed my life, but it did calm me down, give me a handle on what had just happened, and helped me focus on fixing what had just happened in a positive manner.

The basic premise is the Toltec principles of four agreements, things that can help you change your perspective and attitude toward others by changing how you react to others. Through these principles, if you apply them in your life, you will find a peace, a happiness, that alludes most people. Granted, I found a lot of the book a bit hokey and overly new-agey for my tastes, and the writing style was chatty and felt a bit off. I’m also not sure it should be taken as a “cure all” for everything. But. It did help calm me down. And the four agreements — being impeccable (careful) with your word, not taking anything personally, not making assumptions and doing one’s best — are good things to live by. And maybe, if everyone picked this up and read through it, if only to find out just exactly what Ruiz means, then maybe the world would be a happier place. (Though, I suppose I shouldn’t wish for world happiness, just personal.)

At any rate, it was food for thought.

The Adventures of Boone Barnaby

by Joe Cottonwood
ages: 9+
First sentence: “I live in San Puerco, California.”

I picked up this book because the author was so kind to email me, praising my blog (and my “shoot-from-the-hip style” — my immediate was: “Okay? Not something I would think of myself…”) and announcing that he’s re-released his title as a podcast. Here’s what he wrote:

I’ve just re-released my novel Boone Barnaby. What’s new is that this time, it’s a podcast. Scholastic in 1990 published The Adventures of Boone Barnaby as a middle grade novel (for a podcast, I had to shorten the title so it would show up on tiny ipod screens).

Maybe I’m breaking new ground here. Does a podcast qualify for a review? (And if not, shouldn’t we catch up with what kids already accept as normal?) It’s a way to engage kids, especially boys, in a literary story. No vampires, no superheroes. I was going to bring out a new print edition, too, but as long as Amazon is selling old copies for a penny, I can’t compete – and there are probably ten thousand copies still out there in garage sale land. Meanwhile, I’ve made it available as a PDF for a free download.

There’s no money in this for me. The podcast is free (dowloadable from iTunes), the PDF is free (from my website), even the one-penny copies on Amazon earn me no royalties. I’m just reviving a good book – and enjoying the new world of podcasting.

We went back and forth a bit about podcasts… here’s where I confess that we’re a (teeny) bit behind the times around here: when I asked M if she would listen to a podcast of this book, she asked, “What’s a podcast?” Obviously, that wouldn’t work. We don’t have iPods, and as I have mentioned before, listening to a book (if it’s outside of a car during a long drive) just doesn’t work with my lifestyle. So, the compromise I came to was read the book (my library is awesome) and review it, and mention that you can get it as a podcast. (I’ve already done that part.)

It’s a very good book. Boone is a 12ish (I’m not sure if we ever got his age; if we did, it’s not sticking in my brain) kid, living in a small town in California (northern, I guess, because of references to Redwoods). He’s a pretty low-key kid, not really great but not bad either. Then one fall, everything seems to change (it’s called the “Banana Effect”: bad — or good — things always come in bunches). Some of it’s for the better: Babcock moves in, the town’s pathetic soccer team begins winning games, Boone outsmarts the local miser in the Trashathon: an event to raise money for the soccer team to go to Australia for a tournament. But some of it’s for the worse: Boone’s father is arrested on suspicion for arson (the pub is burned down, and his father just happens to have been walking around late at night with a can of gasoline), his friend Danny’s family is going to be evicted, and he has a run-in with the town’s homeless man, Damon Goodey. Sure, everything works out in the end, but it’s not the end that matters in this book, but rather the journey. It’s a coming of age story, where Boone realizes that growing up doesn’t hold all the answers as well as figuring out a few of his own rules. Not to mention how he fits into the grander (well, maybe not grander, but at least larger) scheme of things. It’s a straightforward story; Cottonwood doesn’t write down to his readers, instead just laying out the “facts” and letting the story, and characters, speak for themselves. And although there’s some thoughtful themes in it (segregation, racism, drug use — in the parents’ past — and honesty, among others), it doesn’t harp on them, or beat them into the reader.

So. Find the book (buy it for a penny plus shipping at Amazon!), or download it on your iPod (because I’m assuming that most of you have one…). It really is worth the time.

(Another) Matrimony Giveaway

(This is a sticky post; scroll down for newer posts…)

There is a review coming, I promise, but I feel like CRAP today, and can’t think straight. I still wanted to get this up though. Joshua Henkin has been darling enough to 1) work with (and be patient with) me — he first offered me this book back in November, and 2) offer up a SIGNED copy of the book for one wonderful reader of my blog. I know reviews of this one are floating around; if you’re even remotely interested in the book, or would like to give it to a friend/spouse/significant other for Valentine’s Day, enter away. I’m too tired to think of anything special; just leave a comment with a contact email. If you spread the word on your blog, I’ll enter you twice; just be sure to come back and let me know that you’ve done that.

I’ll leave the post up until Feburary 10th at midnight; I’ll have one of the girls pick a winner the morning of the 11th; that way, you should be able to get your book by Valentine’s Day.

Good luck!

Madame Pamplemousse and Her Incredible Edibles

by Rupert Kingfisher
ages: 8-12
First sentence: “In the city of Paris, on the banks of the river, tucked away from the main street down a narrow winding alley, there is a shop.”
ARC sent by the publisher.

Madeline is the niece of Monsieur Lard, the owner of The Squealing Pig, a (not-so-respected) restaurant in Paris. Lard would love to be a world-renowned chef, famous for his delicacies. Unfortunately, his cooking is, well… bad. Horrible. Awful. And, on top (since it has to be this way), he’s a horrible, awful, bad person as well, treating his dear, sweet niece as a servant in his restaurant. She’s the dishwasher, one that’s often forgotten and much abused. Except, she (in her heart of hearts) would love to be a chef, too.

One day, the restaurant runs out of Monsieur Lard’s favorite (albeit horrible) pâté, Madeline is the only person free to go to the market to get new pâté. She doesn’t go to the market, though; she ends up at Madame Pampelmousse’s shop, a dark, dingy, out-of-the-way place that somehow holds the key to all edible delights. Madeline brings back some new pâté, which infuriates her uncle, until it’s served. It immediately becomes a sensation, and The Squealing Pig the hottest spot in Paris. Except Lard is unhappy with this turn of events, and he’s determined to get the recipe, so he sends Madeline in as a (unwilling) spy. What she discovers, there, is a whole new world, as well as a new way of cooking.

It’s a very cute story and a very cute book — from the way the story is told as well as the illustrations. I loved the touch of magical realism, how the food is magic, but only just-so, and only for those who truly deserve it. It was fun to read; funny in some parts, but mostly just smile-inducing. The book made me happy.

I kept wondering, though, who would read this. I’m not sure it would appeal to an eight year old — there are difficult words (how many third graders know pâté?), as well as the occasional “damn” that might put parents off, not to mention an odd (if cute) sort of storyline. But, it’s too spare and simple for an older reader; M had no interest in reading it, and not just because she goes in for food books. And it’s almost too bad that it has no built-in audience. Because it’s truly a little gem.

Teaser Tuesday, February 10

  • Grab your current read.
  • Let the book fall open to a random page.
  • Share with us two (2) “teaser” sentences from that page, somewhere between lines 7 and 12.
  • You also need to share the title of the book that you’re getting your “teaser” from … that way people can have some great book recommendations if they like the teaser you’ve given!
  • Please avoid spoilers!
  • From Becoming Jane Austen, by Jon Spence, (which I’m reading in little bits at a time) p. 111:

    Jane must have made excuses for him to herself — his studies, his difficult uncle. But the fact remained that he did not come.

    The roundup is at Should be Reading.