Rose

by Holly Webb
First sentence: “Rose peered out the corner of the window at the street below, watching interestedly as two little girls walked past with their nursemaid.”
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Review copy sent to me by the publisher for the Cybils.
Content: Aside from the creepy person kidnapping orphans (but it’s really not that scary), there isn’t anything untoward in this book. It would happily sit in the middle grade (3-5th grade) section of the bookstore.

Rose lives in St. Bridget’s Home for Abandoned Girls in London, with no idea, really, where she came from or who she is. (She’s named after the rose bush that was blooming the day she was found in a fish basket in the churchyard.) She really doesn’t have much hope of ever being adopted, so she trudges on, one day after another. Then one day, a housekeeper for a wealthy alchemist/magician arrives, and Rose ends up as a maid in the house. And she discovers that she has a talent for magic. It turns out, too, that orphan children are disappearing from the London streets. No one is really concerned — they’re orphans, after all — but when a friend of hers from St. Bridget’s goes missing, Rose knows she has to do something. And with the help of the magician’s apprentice, maybe she can.

This is, in many ways, a book that’s already been written. Orphan? Check. Plucky lower class girl outsmarting the gentry? Apprentice story? Check. Check. Evil magician stealing children? Check. It should have been by-the-numbers boring.

And yet, it wasn’t. Partially because of the writing — Webb does know how to keep the pages turning — but mostly because Rose is such an endearing character. She’s neither snarky nor plucky. She just does what Needs To Be Done. She’s hardworking, but doesn’t have any desire to be Great. She’s not terribly smart — she has no idea how she’s doing what she’s doing — but she is willing to learn. And she is, above all, loyal to those she calls her friends.

She is, for all purposes, a Hufflepuff.

And that is why I loved her. The story is good, as well. I think this is a first in a series, but it doesn’t need to be. I can see a lot of kids loving it — boys too, if they can get past the title and cover — because it’s quite accessible.

A true winner. (Go Hufflepuff!)

(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.)

SideKicked

by John David Anderson
First line: “Captain Marvelous sighed.”
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Content: There’s some violence, and a bit of a body count. And there’s a budding love triangle (with a couple of kisses), though it’s all pretty innocent. It feels older than elementary school, though, so I’d put it in my YA (6-8th grade) section. However, I wouldn’t be opposed to handing it to a 10- or 11-year-old.

A long time ago (when M and C were little), we had a They Might Be Giant’s CD enttitled NO! On there was this particular song:

I didn’t think much of it at the time (it wasn’t my favorite on the CD by far), but when I started this book, that song kept playing through my head. See: Andrew Bean — Drew to his friends — was born with a “condition” that makes all of his senses amplified. He thought, growing up, that he was just Weird, but then he discovered the H.E.R.O program (that’s Highview Environmental Revitalization Organization. Their motto? We keep the trash off the streets.), which is, in reality a sidekick training program. For superheroes.

Which kept reminding me of another favorite of M and C’s when they were younger: Sky High. (My favorite line from that movie? “Holy (blank), (blank) Man!”) It’s essentially the same plot: Drew (and his sidekick friends) must Save the City from an Evil Genius (though in this case, there was a twist — that I saw, but didn’t mind  — that made it interesting) because the Superheroes aren’t able to. (Except, in this case, one is Reformed and Comes to the sidekick’s aid.)

I guess that makes it sound like I didn’t like this. Which isn’t true: I did. I don’t think it was wholly original (the superhero thing was done most excellently last year with Geeks, Girls, and Secret Identities), but it was fun. There was action (it starts out with a rescue scene), some romance, some angst, and some laughter. And Drew’s voice was spot-on for a sidekick with pretty useless superpowers. It may not be the best book out there this year, but it is an enjoyable read.

(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.)

The Wells Bequest

by Polly Shulman
First sentence: “The Wednesday when the whole time-travel adventure began, I was fiddling with my game controller, trying to make the shoot button more sensitive.”
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Content: The main character is a bit obsessed with the girl (too much for my taste in a time-traveling, science fiction adventure book) and there’s a terrorist threatening to destroy NYC. It’s in the middle grade (3-5 grade) section of the bookstore, though I personally would hesitate before giving it to just any third grader, though I’m not sure I could pinpoint why.

Leo is the son of Russian immigrants who really only expect two things from him: excellence and to be scientifically minded. Leo — for better or for worse — is neither of those. At least not in the traditional sense. Leo is a Tinkerer. He loves taking things apart and putting them back together. He loves building new and better things. Which makes him perfect for the page program of the New York Circulating Material Repository. He gets there in a weird, round-about way, though: a time-traveling version of himself and an unknown girl (Jaya Rao, who was in the first book of this series The Grimm Legacy. Thankfully this one stands on its own, however.) stops in his room to tell him to read H. G. Wells’ The Time Machine.

I’d like to say that an adventure starts there, and there is a bit of an adventure that involves NikolaTesla, Mark Twain, and a crazed British page that has a raging crush on Jaya. I while I did enjoy reading this book, mostly I felt like it was a set-piece for Shulman to show off all the Really Cool Things that could come from reading science fiction books. There are many references to classic science fiction (which I got, but I wonder how an elementary school student would handle) and the inventions that come out of them are really neat. But I felt like that was the entire point of the plot. And I kind of wanted more action and less cool inventions.

(There’s also the side issue of Leo being Obsessed — though not in a crazy way — with kissing Jaya. I know he’s a hormonal pre-teen boy, but get on with it already. It’s a science fiction time travel book. I felt like it was a distraction.)

Even with my qualms, it was a fun story. And I’m curious about the first one as well.

(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.)

Magic Marks the Spot

The Very Nearly Honorable League of Pirates, Book 1

by Caroline Carlson
First sentence: “Ever since the letter had arrived from Miss Pimm’s, Hilary had spent more and more time talking to the gargoyle.”
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Review copy provided by the publisher for the Cybils
Content: There’s a couple of swordfights where no one gets injured. For a pirate book, it’s really quite tame. It’s shelved in the middle grade (3-5th grade) section of the bookstore.
Hilary Westfield has one dream: to become a pirate. Unfortunately the league of pirates in Augusta has one rule: no girls. Girls are sent to Miss Pimm’s finishing school, because that’s Where Girls Go. Thankfully, Hilary has Pluck and Determination and doesn’t let the Rules stop her. (This book insists you talk about Things in Capital Letters.) As soon as she gets a chance, she runs away from Miss Pimm’s and finds a pirate — Jasper, the Terror of the South Seas — who doesn’t care that she’s a girl. 
There’s more to this book — magic and treasure and an Enchantress and a Wicked Parent — but really, what I loved most about this book was that Hilary set out to be a pirate and succeeded ON HER OWN TERMS. No dressing up like a boy. No bowing to Tradition. No Resigning Oneself to her Fate and Making the Best of It. Nope. Not for Hilary. She (and her talking gargoyle, whom I really loved) decided that they wanted to be pirates, and Dang It, they became pirates. 
I liked this one an awful lot, mostly because of the above reason. But — aside from the unnecessary letters that were written in cursive, which is a real turn-off for kids These Days; the book got much better after I started skipping them — I really enjoyed all of it. There was humor (Miss Greyson, the governess/chaperone, was hilarious), sword fighting, a wee bit of romance (but not overstated; it was between the adults), and most of all Hilary being Awesome.
Yeah, it was a bit slow at the start, and I really don’t like that it’s yet another one in a series, but I thought the story wrapped up well enough, and I’d be willing to see where Hilary’s piratical adventures take her. 

(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.)

The Real Boy

by Anne Ursu
First sentence: “The residents of the gleaming hilltop town of Asteri called their home, simply, the City.”
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Content: Some intense moments — both physically and psychologically — and the language and pacing are a bit slow, especially for a struggling reader. Still, it fits in the middle grade (3-5th grade) section of the bookstore.
Review copy snagged from the ARC shelves at my place of employment.

After I finished reading this, A took a look at it and said,”Huh.’The Real Boy’? Is that like Pinocchio?”

Well, yes. Yes it is.

The island of Aletheia is full of magic, even though there are no wizards anymore. There are magic smiths, and Oscar is the hand to one. Which means, he collects and chops the herbs and basically stays out of the way. That is, until the apprentice turns up dead and the magic smith go missing. That’s when Oscar’s world starts unraveling: everything he thought Aletheia was built on, everything he thought his master was turns out to be built upon a lie. And it’s up to Oscar and Callie, the healer’s apprentice, to figure out what the truth is, and how to set everything right. And, because I alluded to it, yes, the Pinocchio story does play a small role.

This was a lovely, lyrical book; Ursu is a magnificent, quiet writer. She knows how to evoke a feeling and a place — the forest is dark and magical and calming. And even though it’s never explicitly said, Ursu makes it obvious through little words and phrases that Oscar has some form of autism. That simple fact upped the tension when it was up to Oscar become the Hero of this story. How — if he doesn’t know how to interact with people — is he supposed to figure everything out? Enter Callie, who was a remarkable character. (In fact, all the characters, from the magic smiths to the bullies, to the people in the city who were Indulged and Coddled, were remarkably written.) She is the healer’s apprentice, magicless in a world where magic is everything, and yet she’s smart and plucky and brave, but most of all caring.

In addition to all that, and refreshingly, it’s not a start of a series! Hooray for stand-alone books! My only detriment is that I’m not sure this will appeal to many kids. But for the ones who are daring enough (or quiet enough) to pick it up, they’re in for a real treat.

(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.)

The Garden Princess

by Kristin Kladstrup
First sentence: “Princess Adela laced her fingers under a clump of creeping Charlie and pulled, enjoying the satisfying crackle of roots ripping free of soil.”
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Content: Aside from your usual witches being Bad and princesses not wanting to be princesses and talk of Marriage for a 16-year-old, there’s not much here. It’d happily belong in the middle grade (3-5) section of the bookstore.
Review copy sent to me by the publisher for the Cybils

Adela, like many princesses in books like these, does not like being a princess. She would much rather muck around in the garden, creating landscapes, finding new plants. So, when the handsome gardener (whom she prefers hanging out with) gets invited to a garden party thrown by Lady Hortensia, Adela finagles her way along, mostly so she can see Hortenisa’s famed gardens. However, when she gets there, she finds that the gardens aren’t, well, normal. And Hortensia’s a witch, something Adela thought didn’t exist. It turns out that Hortensia’s plants are all actually beautiful girls. And Adela’s determined to set them all free.

So far, so good. It’s pretty run-of-the-mill, but nothing horrible. I actually kind of like Adela, and it’s not very often you get a princess obsessed with gardening. But, once at the garden, it went south for me. It got very lecture-y about Outer Beauty (which is bad!) and Inner Strength (which is good!), but I could deal with that. No, my problem came with the climax. See, Adela, for all her Heroism, doesn’t actually Solve the Problem. Nope, that goes to the guy/love interest in the story. And that bothered me. I wanted Adela to be Strong Enough and Smart Enough to beat the evil witch, but it turned out that she was only Good Enough to inspire the guy into figuring things out.

*sigh*

But other than that, it was a perfectly fine little fantasy.

(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.)

The Screaming Staircase

Lockwood & Co, Book 1
by Jonathan Stroud
First sentence: “
Support your local independent bookstore: buy it there!
Review copy snagged from the ARC shelves at my place of employment.
Content: It’s a ghost story and pretty scary at times, which means, while it’s on a middle grade reading level (and it’s shelved in the middle grade — 3-5th grade — section of my library), I’d be pretty wary about giving this to a Sensitive Child. There’s also a handful of mild swear words.

Even though I saw the rave reviews and the gushing praises, I put off reading this one for much too long. Even though I’ve loved Stroud’s books in the past, I was wary of the rave reviews: it couldn’t be THAT good, could it?

Well, yes. Yes, it was.

Set in a London where there is a Problem with ghosts — they’re everywhere, infesting the buildings and graveyards  — and where only the young can see, and subsequently fight, them. Usually, those with the Talent to see/hear the ghosts, are supervised by adults, but at Lockwood & Co. there’s no such oversight. It’s just Anthony Lockwood, George, and Lucy, teenagers and ghost fighters extraordinaire.

Okay, so it’s not that simple. Lucy and George constantly bicker, and Lockwood is more optimistic about the future of his company than actually capable of running it. But the three of them are talented ghost fighters (hunters? I wasn’t quite sure what to call them), and even though they’re not exactly careful, they get the job done.

Then, on a routine clearing, Lockwood and Lucy stumble on a particularly fierce ghost. It turns out that it was Annabel Ward, a socialite and actress who was murdered and shoved into a chimney. This captures the imagination of our narrator, Lucy, and she ropes the boys into helping her figure out what, exactly, happened to Annabel 50 years ago. One of the best things about this book is the way Stroud handles the mystery: he gives us enough clues as we go along to make a good guess, but it also isn’t the only element to the book. Neither is the ghost Problem. There’s enough layers and depth in this book to keep even the most reluctant of readers interested.

And even though it takes a good 2/3 of the book to get to where the title came from, it all comes together splendidly (fantastically, I might add) at the end.

Additionally, Stroud knows how to do atmosphere. It’s creepy, it’s funny, it’s haunting. It’s eloquent. One passage that stuck out (it’s near the end, but it doesn’t give anything away):

All around us rose the scream, issuing directly from the steps and stones. Its volume was appalling — as painful as repeated blows — but it was the psychic distress it carried that made it so unbearable, that made your gorge rise and your head split and the world spin before your eyes. It was the sound of the terror of
death, drawn out indefinitely, extending on forever. It spiraled around us, clawing at our minds. 

It’s not just good. It’s brilliant.

(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.)

EMGSF Smallish Books

The Lonely Lake Monster
by Suzanne Selfors
First sentence: “Pearl smacked the alarm clock until the loud beeping stopped.”
Content: Nothing objectionable or difficult at all. My only problem is deciding whether or not it’s happiest in the middle grade (3-5) section or the beginning chapter book (grade 1-2) section. It could go either way.
Others in the series: The Sasquatch Escape

I really liked the first one of the series; and this was more of the same. It wasn’t bad; Pearly got to shine as her own heroine, saving her friend Ben from a lonely lake monster. She came up with and executed a solution on her own, which I was very proud of and grateful for. It just lacked substance, which is just me as an adult talking. It’s perfect for the target age group.

The Ghost Prison
by Joseph Delaney/Illustrated by Scott M. Fisher
First sentence: “For pity’s sake, get up, lad.”
Content: Lots of ghosts. Would sit in the middle grade (3-5) section of the bookstore.

This is a ghost story. For kids. It’s got (duh) ghosts, and kid-eating monsters, and atmosphere coming out the wazoo. Except, it wasn’t scary. At all. Even the twist at the end wasn’t a surprise. Perhaps it was because I am an adult, and it’d be terrifying to a 7-year-old. But, honestly? You want something scary? Read Coraline.

Mickey Price: Journey to Oblivion
by John P. Stanley
First sentence: “Every great adventure starts with a moment.”
Review copy sent to me for the Cybils.
Content: Seventh-graders being put in dangerous situations. But other than that, nothing. Would reside in the middle grade (3-5) section of the bookstore.

Mickey Price — confusingly telling this story to his kids when he’s older — is a seventh grader who gets chosen to be a part of a super-secret astronaut program in 1977. They get sent to the moon and Save The World. There’s science and math because, you know, they’re Useful. And I spent the entire book alternately wondering WHY this was in the Speculative Fiction category — was it because it’s unrealistic to send seventh graders into space — and wishing Stanley had gotten a better editor. Good idea, lousy execution.

(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.)

Audiobook: The Boneshaker

by Kate Milford
Read by: Erin Moon
Content: some intense moments (the Devil’s pretty scary), some violence, some disturbing images (if it were a movie). Language is probably suitable for someone reading on a 5th grade level. Has the feel of an older Middle Grade book, so I’d probably put it in the YA section (grades 6-8) at the bookstore.
Support your local independent bookstore: buy it there!

It’s 1914, and 13-year-old Natalie Minks has a pretty good life. Her father is the local mechanic — bicycle, mostly, but he’ll tinker with cars — and her mother tells the most amazing stories about their town, Arcane. Natalie herself has a predisposition for both: she loves tinkering with her father as well as listening to her mother’s stories.

Then one day Dr. Jake Limberleg’s Nostrum Fair and Technological Medicine Show comes to town. It was a fluke — their front wheel came off at the crossroads, and they decided to set up shop while they waited for Mr. Minks to fix their wagon. And that’s when the Trouble starts. Natalie, for better or for worse, is tuned into it and with her frienemy Miranda (I think that’s what her name was; I can’t look it up in the book!) and her trusty Chesterlane Eidolon bicycle (a bone shaker of an old thing that would be the fastest in the world, if Natalie could ever ride it), she decides to take on Limberleg and solve the mystery, saving her town. If she can.

I don’t know how I can write about the way this captured my attention. Sure, I was on a long drive to Austin, and it had my full attention anyway, but I didn’t want to stop listening. Milford has taken the idea of a Faustian Bargain — you know: those stories where a character meets the Devil and then outsmarts Old Scratch? — and elevated it. Not only is there two elements to this bargain, but we get historical elements thrown in as well. The traveling medicine show (I loved the Paragons of Science, even though they were Evil), the bicycles, the references to the “war” (which took me a minute to realize they meant the Civil War): it all added Atmosphere, which made the fantasy element, the bargains with the Devil at the Crossroads, that much creepier.

(It also helped that I kept thinking about this song:)

In short: a winner of a book.

The Neptune Project

by Polly Holyoke
ages: 10+
First sentence: “I wake to an urgent tap at my window.”
Support your local independent bookstore: buy it there!

Nere Hanson (a terrible name, that, as A pointed out) has never understood why she felt more at home in the sea, with the dolphins. Her parents are scientists who study the ocean, but that’s not the whole picture. Nere has problems breathing on land, and it’s just getting worse. Then the government of the Western Collective (roughly some futuristic dictatorship that came out of the US; this is set along the Pacific coast) demands that everyone who lives by the ocean move inland, to help with “food production.” So, Nere’s mom pushes forward her plans, breaking the news  to Nere and her friends Robry and Lena that the reason why they struggle to live on land is that they’re genetically altered to survive — like breathe seawater and everything — under the ocean.

I’m going to stop here for a minute. I’ve read books about exploring the ocean as an option for when global warming takes over and turns this planet into one gigantic mass of water, and I’ve read books that deal with genetic mutation of people (and I think I’ve read one that combines the two in some search for Atlantis, now that I think about it), but this one struck me as unique. Holyoke has done her research and this one felt, well, authentic. I appreciated that. I also enjoyed her use of dolphins; they weren’t props, but rather their own characters, which added another interesting layer to the story.

After they make the change, and get away from the Marine Guard (read government thugs), Nere, Robry, and Lena have to figure out how to survive in their new environment. They meet up with another group of kids who have had this change done to them — Nere is resentful for a good part of the book because her mother did this to her, without her consent, and didn’t give her the time to adjust to this. I love Bad Mom Decisions in Middle Grade books — and set out for the rendezvous point. From there, they head north to Vancouver to the colony that Nere’s father is setting up.

Even though it’s a first in a series — I really would love a stand-alone speculative middle grade fiction book sometime — and it’s just an elaborate set-up, Holyoke does a fantastic job creating her world. And I liked the dynamics she created in the group. It wasn’t as middle school-ish as the jacket flap led me to believe, but a genuine portrayal of kids thrown in a new situation and forced to survive. And Holyoke isn’t afraid to kill characters off or have characters betray one another. It was complex, and I enjoyed that.

I only wish I had more of a sense of closure with this one; I’m not sure I’m all excited to read further adventures of Neve and the Neptune Project. But this one was definitely enjoyable.

(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.)