by Hilary McKay
ages: 10+
First sentence: “Today I fell asleep in class.”

Things that are still true about the Casson books:
I adore Rose.
They make me utterly and unquestionably happy.
I find them hilarious in a wacky, British sort of way.
Eve is daffy and Bill’s a cad (though much less so in this book, if only because they show up much less).

The basic plot: Indigo likes Saffy’s friend Sarah, and so he finagles a way to sell tickets to the Valentine Dance. He sets Saffy up with Oscar. Saffy and Rose get “lost” on the moor (stranded is more like it) because of Oscar’s lousy car. Oscar and his older brother Alex rescue them and bring them home. Caddy’s waiting there, and she decides Alex is The One (mostly because he’s got permission to go to China to photograph panda bears). Except he’s not Darling Michael, to whom Rose promised not to let Caddy get married. Hence, Rose’s (in)famous wedding destruction at the end of the book.

Things that are different from the previous Casson books:
The chapters alternate between narrators (going, in order: Rose, Indigo, Saffy, Caddy, Rose again). I loved each voice, but I espeically loved that Rose was still omnipresent.
The appendices are really the best part.
I was expecting a huge climax at the church (because I read Forever Rose first), but didn’t get it, but it really didn’t matter. It was still funny.
There was a subplot about Saffy and Sarah not being friends any more becuase of a star balloon, but that was pretty silly (well, of course), and not really worth mentioning. Indigo was pretty awesome, though.

And, yes, I’m going to read Forever Rose again, just so I can put it in it’s proper place. And do a proper “review”.

by Hilary McKay
ages: 10+
First sentence: “David tramped along the road to the Casson house trying not to think too far ahead.”

My brain feels much better. Thanks for asking.

This book takes place soon after Indigo’s Star — Tom has left for America, and Rose has been patiently waiting all summer for some word from him. And has gotten nothing. She waits, every day for the mail… and every day the postman passes her by. This little daily exchange spurs two events: Michael (Caddy’s beloved) pinching roses for Rose (in The Early Morning Rose Delivery Service: bringing roses to Roses) so she’s not left empty-handed; and Rose shoplifting. Oh, it begins innocently enough — rearranging displays in shops — but evolves into taking things out of stores and leaving them on the street, and eventually to bringing things all the way home. Thankfully, David (former bully of Indigo, trying to make a go at an actual friendship), has taken to coming around, and (since he is a reformed shoplifter) is able to (eventually) put Rose to rights.

And, because this is a Casson book, that’s not the entire plot. Eve is spending the summer painting murals at the hospital, because she’s too sad to paint in her shed. Caddy is avoiding Michael, because even though she loves him, she’s not sure she really really wants to marry him. And Saffy has decided that she’s going to search for her father (with Sarah’s help, of course), which leads to a Really Big Revelation (that is a tad bit soap-operaish, but forgivable) in the end. Bill, as always, is a cad, living in London with his Really Nice Girlfriend, Samantha (which begs the question: why is it that the Really Nice Girls are always attracted to cads?)

I didn’t enjoy this one as much as I did the other two (I’m not counting Forever Rose, since I read the last one first…), but that’s not saying that it’s not fabulous or wonderful. It is. It’s just not as fabulous or wonderful as Saffy’s Angel or Indigo’s Star. Then again, if this is the series’ low point (and every series has to have one), I’ll take it. It’s still quite funny, and charming, and delightful, and lovely… it’s just darker and tends in a soap opera direction at the end that I think is a bit more disturbing for me than it probably should be. (Bill really is a cad.)

But, I’ll leave you on a happy note, with the one quote that had me rolling. Indigo and Rose have been reading Le Morte d’Arthur, and Rose is asking Caddy, who’s cleaning out guinea pig cages, about Sir Lancelot:

“He went on quests,” [Caddy] said. “They all did. Questing all the time.”

“What are quests?”

“Dares. Or big searches for stuff. Right now I’m questing for my old address book. Tell me if you see it, Rosey Pose.”

“What, in there?” asked Rose, looking in disgust at the stuff Caddy was shoveling into a bucket.

“No, of course not in here!” said Caddy, laughing. “And don’t pull faces like that! It’s only poo! You have to get used to poo! Even gorgeous Lancelot pooed!”

“No he didn’t!”

“Of course he did… Gallop through the forest… stop for a poo… bash off someone’s helm, rescue a maiden… stop for a poo… Everyone does it. Unless they’re dead.”

“Well, he’s dead!” said Rose, triumphantly producing the only fact she knew for sure about Sir Lancelot.

There you have it: pure, unadulterated Casson. Isn’t it lovely.? (Even if the book isn’t quite as lovely as I had wanted it to be.)

by Suzanne Selfors
ages: 8-12
First sentence: “Boom Broom awoke to find his little sister, Mertyle, looking for spots.”

It’s Friday the 13th, the day of the school Kick the Ball Against the Wall championship, and Boom Broom just knows he’s going to win. Except it seems the universe it out to get him. It’s not enough that his mother was stolen by a freak twister a year ago. Or that his father hasn’t come out of the attic since the accident. Or that his sister, Mertyle, has been coming up with increasingly inane (but creative) sicknesses to get out of school and stay home and watch game shows. Or that the housekeeper his father hired, Halvor, is a Direct Descendant of Vikings and refuses to cook or eat anything that isn’t fish, rye bread or marmalade.

No, today, of all days, Boom has to kick an apple through the window of Mr. Johnson’s house, which leads to him being late to school, which leads to him missing the Kick the Ball Against the Wall championship, which leads to him loaning his best friend, Wing, $7 of the $10 Halvor gave Boom to buy dinner (fish, of course) so he could pay off a bet, which leads to him rummaging through the reject bucket at the docks, which leads to him bringing home the one thing that will change their lives: a merbaby.

It’s a whimsical book, with absurdities and magic flowing freely throughout. Selfors has a way with descriptions, with situations that while not laugh-out-loud funny (for me, at least) are at least amusing in their absurdity. That said, there’s a dark streak running through the book; the neighbors across the street are delightfully snotty and bossy, and all that goes wrong for Boom in the weekend works most satisfactorily toward the lovely, happy conclusion.

In short: an absolutely delightful little book.

by Neil Gaiman
ages: 10+
First sentence: “There was a hand in the darkness and it held a knife.”

This book has been read by practically everyone (if you haven’t read it, why not?), and I don’t have much to add. So, some not-so-random thoughts (since everyone else has written a review of it):

I agree with those (like Natasha, most recently) who don’t like the cover or the illustrations. I’m not sure they added much to the book. And they just kind of weird. In cases like this, I’d much rather leave everything up to my imagination.

That said, I did like the story. It helped knowing it was patterned after Jungle Book; the pacing is a bit weird, and I think it would have bothered me if I didn’t know it was a conscious decision on Gaiman’s part to write it that way. But knowing that, I was able to put aside my irritations when they cropped up (which wasn’t often).

That said, I loved the story. I loved the intensity of the first and second-to-last chapters. During those, at least, I couldn’t put the book down. I loved Bod and the life that Gaiman imagined for him in the graveyard, including his relationships with the ghosts and Silas. There were moments of just pure wonderfulness, as well as small touches (loved the gravestones), throughout the novel.

I’m still trying to decide if it’s the best fantasy I’ve read in a while, or even if it deserves the Newbery. I think so, if only because it’s so different from anything else. Granted, different doesn’t always mean good, but in this case, I think different is unique and interesting. Which is really the best way to describe Gaiman’s work.

And this is no exception.

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.

by Eva Ibbotson
ages: 10+
First sentence: “I don’t think you ought to be crying at your age.”

This was a great sick day read (even though it took me two, since that’s the way my life ran this weekend). Light, fun, and terribly cute (with dark overtones), it was the perfect thing for my addled brain to handle. (I’m also feeling slightly uninspired as I write; my brain isn’t quite un-addled just yet.)

It’s 1939 London, and Tally is happy living with her two aunts and her father. Except the prospect of war is looming, and her father is concerned for her safety, so he sends Tally away to Delderton, a boarding school in the west of England. Tally doesn’t want to go, but once there, finds it an absolute heaven. Teachers that engage the students (rather than lecture), a loving, nurturing environment, and, of course, bosom friends. Then a letter comes inviting Delderton to a folk dance festival in the country of Bergania, and Tally basically bullies everyone into going. There, they meet the crown prince, and become involved in saving his life after the assassination of his father.

It goes on from there, but that’s basically the major plot points. I suppose some would say that she glossed over the war (it kind of just happens), but I don’t think this is a war book; rather, it’s more about friendship and duty and class and choosing one’s own path than adventure and romance (though there is adventure; romance is pretty understated). Ibbotson’s writing drew me into the book and held me there (even though I did the pickup-putdown dance quite a bit); I thoroughly enjoyed the alternate world, as well as the delightful characters, that she created.

I think I’m going to stop there. For more coherent thoughts (and why I picked the book up in the first place), read Fuse’s review. Or, just go read the book. It really is quite lovely.

by Patrick Carman
ages: 10+
First sentence: “There was a moment not long ago when I thought, “This is it. I’m dead.”
Review copy received from the author. Release date February 10, 2009.

First: This is no mere book. It’s an experience, one that (as M said when I told her about it) is a bit before it’s time. See, it’s a book, but it’s also a movie. But, it’s easier to explain using the plot…

Ryan and Sarah are best friends. Best friends who have been forbidden to see each other. Because they’ve been snooping around town, trying to figure out the mystery of the Dredge. They went out there, late one night, and Ryan had an accident and broke his leg. He’s holed up in his room, doing all the writing (the book part). Sarah, who can still get around, has the video camera, and emails him passwords to a website with her videos (the movie part). Between the two of them, they will get to the bottom of the mystery… (just not in this book, so you’re prepared.)

On the one hand, this is a brilliant idea. Really. Not just for reluctant readers, but for fans of mysteries… I loved the mood of the book, and that the mood carried over to the movies. I was concerned about it being hokey, but it actually works quite well. There’s no soundrack, so it’s all a bit eerie, which works in building suspense. The mystery itself is quite intriguing, but fairly complex (about halfway through the book, I figured there would have to be a sequel, because there’s no way it was wrapping up before the end of the book, at least not satisfactorily). There’s also a bit of mystery about the mystery: is it a straight-forward ghost story? Or a murder? Or a conspiracy? Very nice.

The technical side, at least for me, left something to be desired. Since I read while my kids watch TV, and the computer is in the same room, it often made it hard for me to hear on the videos what was being said. Especially since the videos entailed a lot of whispering and quiet or faint sounds. And then there’s the fact that my computer’s ancient, and the screen overly dark, so I couldn’t see what I was supposed to be seeing half the time. Frustrating. (But not the fault of the book or the author.) M suggested that it would be cool if it were all in one package (the Kindle perhaps?) where you could read the text and watch the videos without having to switch mediums (it is also not a book for reading in school… again, having to find a computer, and a quiet room, to watch the video “chapters”).

Still, I am intrigued by the idea, especially as a way to keep the book publishing business alive. I don’t think print books are dead, but there’s always room for experimentation. And this is one experiment that worked fairly well.