The Grimjinx Rebellion

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by Brian Farrey
First sentence: “Of all the wisdom passed down through the generations of the Grimjinx clan, the bit I think about most came from Jerrina Grimjinx, wife of Corenus, our clan father.”
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Others in the series: The Vengekeep Prophecies, The Shadowhand Covenant
Content: There’s some action, and a few intense moments. The length will probably deter less confident readers, but (aside from the made up words) it’s really a page-turner. It’s in the middle grade (grades 3-5) section of the bookstore.

Jaxter thought, after he defeated the Shadowhand, that his troubles would be over. But, the High Laird has been raising taxes, and the population of the Five Provinces are getting restless. None of this bothers Jaxter very much, until the mages kidnap his sister. Who happens to be a powerful seer.

Jaxter, of course, can’t let this happen. So he, his parents, and some of his friends, head off to rescue Aubrin from the power-hungry mages and discover that they’re plotting to overthrow the High Laird and take over the provinces. Once again, Jaxter (and the whole Grimjinx clan) is in over their heads. But, true to form, they rally and figure out a way to Save the Day.

This is such a solid series: a great overarching story (elements of the first book came back again in this one), that involves themes of freedom and who has the right to rule. But it’s also grounded in family: I love the whole Grimjinx clan (even the wayward uncle) and how they pull for each other. They can do things individually, true, but as a family unit, they’re unstoppable. And I love how Jaxter’s friends got adopted into the family: they’re as important to him as his actual family. I especially like his relationship with Callie: you can tell he’s concerned about her, but there’s no romance. They’re just friends, and that’s great.

I also loved how this wrapped up, but didn’t tie everything up in a nice, neat bow. Farrey chose to leave things hanging; and I appreciated the ambiguity. Anything could happen, and that’s just great.

It’s a fantastic end to a fantastic series.

The Terrible Two

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by Mac Barnett and Jory John, illustrated by Keven Cornell
First sentence: “Welcome to Yawnee Valley, an idyllic place with rolling green hills that slope down to creeks and cows as far as the eye can see.”
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Review copy snagged from the ARC shelves at my place of employment.
Release date: January 13, 2015
Content: It’s a bunch of silly pranks. Simple writing and lots of illustrations make it good for younger and reluctant readers. It will be in the Middle Grade (grades 3-5) section of the bookstore.

Miles Murphy is The King of the Pranks. Or, at least he was back in his old school. But in his new one? Not so much. Oh, he tries to become the king again. But in small Yawneee Valley, Miles is finding it difficult to get a good prank in. He keeps being thwarted by someone else. Soon, it’s an all-out prank war, the like Yawnee Valley has never seen.

As soon as I saw this one, I snagged it; Mac Barnett is one of my favorite picture book writers, and I figure he and his friend (or so the bios say) Jory John had to produce something worth reading. I was right (of course!). It’s hilarious. Silly and stupid. Dumb and amusing.

It’s perfect.

Really. It’ll be great for the reluctant readers who need something silly to keep them turning pages. (Plus: illustrations!) It’s got some great conflict, a hilarious buffoon of an adult to root against, and the best. ever. prank. at the end.

What more could you ask for in a book?

Absolutely nothing.

State of the TBR Pile: December 2014

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I know it’s a bit early for resolutions, but I have one. Next year, I’m going to control this mess:

Seriously. There are books several years old on this shelf that NEED to be read. So I’m going to stop checking books out from the library (*sigh*) at least until I can get a bit of a handle on this shelf.

However, I do have a few books out from the library that I need to finish, so this month, I’m going to try and read:

Marina, by Carlos Ruiz Zafon
Glory O’Brien’s History of the Future, by A. S. King
The Map to Everywhere, by Carrie Ryan and John Parke Davis
Absolutely Almost, by Lisa Graf

Hopefully, I can finish them in what’s left of 2014, and then I can start the new year fresh.

What’s on your TBR pile this month?

Graphic Novel Round Up, December 2014

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In Real Life
by Cory Doctorow and Jen Wang
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Content: There’s a couple instances mild swearing and because it’s about economics and gaming, it’s in the teen section of the bookstore. That said, A (who is in 5th grade) read it, understood most of it (at least the general idea), and really liked it. It’s in the teen graphic novel section of the bookstore.

I’ve never read anything by Cory Doctorow, but I was intrigued by this when it came into the store, and after reading a review of it for the Cybils blog I knew I needed to pick this one up.

Anda is a gamer. Which makes her a bit of an anomaly in her new school in Flagstaff, Arizona. So when a woman comes to their tech class, inviting them all to join this new online gaming community, Coarsegold, Anda jumps at the chance. Once inside the game, though, she soon finds out things are not all coming up roses. She hooks up with another player, Sarge, who introduces Anda to the world of gold farming. Actually, Anda and Sarge’s job is to kill off those who are gold farming — harvesting virtual gold for real money.

But then Anda befriends one of the gold farmers, a Chinese boy who goes by the English name, Raymond. She discovers that he’s being forced to work for hours on end without a break, for very little money and no health coverage. So, she gets Involved.

I enjoyed much about this foray into the gaming world. I enjoyed Anda as a character, and that Jen Wang drew her realistically. Even her avatar, which was slimmer and “whiter” than Anda was, wasn’t Barbie perfect. I enjoyed the fact that the introduction to the gamer world was a girl, as well. Especially with gamer-gate, acknowledging that girls are gamers, too (and good at it) is a good thing. Doctorow mentions in his introduction that this is not just about gamers, but it’s also about economics and making a difference. And I could see that as well; it’s a primer how electronic transactions take place and a reminder that in this world, no one is truly ever disconnected from anyone else.

Fascinating.

I Remember Beirut
by Zeina Abirached
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Others in the series (loosely speaking): A Game for Swallows
Content: Much like Hidden, this is about the effects of war on everyday people. It’s pretty matter-of-fact, but it feels like an older graphic novel. It’d be in the teen graphic novel section of the bookstore.

This is basically Abirached’s memories of growing up during the war in Lebanon. Her  house was in the middle of what she called “no man’s land”, which was a zone in between the worst of the fighting and the safer places in Beirut. Her memories are organized roughly chronologically, and range from the mundane — how they showered — to the macabre — her brother loved collecting bits of schrapnel — to the sad — when a neighbor had to move because their house got blown up.

Done in the same stark black and white drawings, it’s a reminder that no war is without casualties, and that sometimes those casualties are the everyday lives of people who aren’t even involved in the fighting. 

Sugar

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by Jewell Parker Rhodes
First sentence: “Everybody likes sugar.”
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Bought and signed by the author at KidLitCon 2014
Content: This one would be appropriate (and probably okay, difficulty-wise) for kids third grade and up. It’s in the middle grade section (grades 3-5) of the bookstore.

It’s 1871, and slavery is supposed to be over. However, for ten-year-old Sugar, on a sugar plantation in Louisiana, it doesn’t feel like it. Sure, the former slaves are free to go if they can, but they’re paid so little that it’s almost impossible for them to leave. And then the plantation owner, Mr. Wills, decides that he needs more workers, so he hires some Chinese to come and supplement the former slaves.

For Sugar, her life revolves around sneaking out to play with Billy, the owner’s son, and trying not to get under Mrs. Beale’s feet. And planting and cutting sugar cane. Once the Chinese arrive, however, Sugar’s world is expanded: one of them speaks English and she befriends them. In fact, she is the bridge that gets the whole working community to work together rather in competition. There’s a passage about halfway through that pretty much sums up what I think Rhodes was getting at in this book:

“How come I ca’t decide who I can see? How come I can’t decide my friends?”
“We don’t trust these men, Sugar.”
“I like Chinamen. Reverend, don’t you preach ‘Treat folks like you want to be treated’?”
“Well, now,” says Reverend, not looking at me, twiddling his thumbs.
“Sugar,” says Mister Beale, “folks get along best with folks like them. Always been that way.”
“Seems cowardly.”

Of course, things aren’t easy for Sugar and her friends: it is 1871 in the South, and white people — especially the former Overseer — are reluctant to change and adapt. There is some tragedy in this book, but it is a middle grade book, after all, and the tragedy is kept simple and appropriate.

It’s the overall message of friendship and inclusion that made this slim historical fiction book worth reading.

Dear Committee Members

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by Julie Schumacher
First sentence: “Dear committee members, Over the past twenty-odd years I’ve recommended god only knows how many talented candidates for the Bentham January residency — that enviable literary oasis in the woods south of Skowhegan: the solitude, the pristine cabins, the artistic camaraderie, and those exquisite hand-delivered satchels of apples and cheese…”
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Content: It’s very much an adult book in sensibility; not to mention about a half-dozen f-bombs dropped in frustration throughout the novel. It’s in the adult fiction section of the bookstore.

This one has been on my radar for a while; I even was given an ARC by the publishing rep when they came to talk about the lineup a long while back. I just didn’t get around to it until my book group foist it upon me, saying the same thing everyone else did: It’s hilarious. You’ll love it.

It’s the story of Jay Fitger, a tenured English professor at a small liberal-arts college in the Midwest, told entirely through his letters of recommendation (and other letters) for various people. At the outset, it’s a brilliant work of fiction: you get a thorough sense of Jay and the kind of professor (and person!) he is through the letters. Also, you get a sense of not just the passing of time, but also the kind of responses he’s getting, without seeing those. These are entirely one-sided letters, and yet I felt like I got a complete picture of everyone in Jay’s life, from his ex-wife and ex-girlfriend (both on campus) to the woman he had an affair with and modeled a despicable character in one of his (bad) novels after. I knew these people (at least on the surface) from the way Jay wrote to them (and about them) in his letters.

But that wasn’t enough for me to love this one. No, I didn’t find it funny because it hit too close to home; my husband is a professor in a small department in a struggling liberal arts college in the Midwest, and the things Jay was dealing with were just too familiar to be funny. In fact, I think this book is funnier the further away from academia you are. (Or at least the English department; the person who chose the book is a biochemistry professor.) But for those of us in the humanities, or at struggling small colleges, it’s just not funny. It’s Truth. And, at least for me right now, Truth wasn’t what I wanted to read.

Greenglass House

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by Kate Milford
First sentence: “There is a right way to do things and a wrong way if you’re going to run a hotel in a smuggler’s town.”
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Content: There’s nothing in the usual objectionable categories. However, it’s a slow book, especially at the start, and there’s some confusion sometimes when the characters switch names. That said, a good reader who loves mysteries would really like this one. It would be in the Middle Grade (grades 3-5) section of the bookstore, but I wouldn’t be adverse to putting it in the YA (grades 6-8) section either.

Milo and his parents run an inn at the top of a hill overlooking a river just outside of the fictional town of Nagspeake. The thing that makes their inn special is that it’s a safe having for smugglers. Milo and Mr. and Mrs. Pine know how to keep secrets.

However, it’s winter break, and Milo is looking forward to spending time alone with his parents. Without guests. So, he’s predictably disappointed when four guests, one right after another, show up for the winter.

Soon, they are in full swing, and have to bring up their usual cook, with her daughter, who just happens to be Milo’s age. Soon he and Meddy find themselves embroiled in an adventure and a mystery: figuring out why each of the four guests are there, their connection with the old house that Milo’s parents inherited, and who keeps stealing stuff.

The comparisons to Westing Game that I’ve read are valid. There is a mystery to solve, and it’s a quietly clever one, with a twist that I should have seen coming, but didn’t. (As we all know, I’m not the most careful of readers.) But it’s more than a mystery: it’s a lovely book, full of stories and quiet adventures (Meddy and Milo play a Dungeons & Dragons-like game for most of the book). I’m impressed that Milford wrote such a compelling book on such a small scale; because of the weather, Milo and Meddy hardly ever leave the house. It’s a very bleak landscape (Think The Dark is Rising bleak), but Milford infuses it with both warmth and mystery.

One more thing: Milo is adopted. He’s of Chinese nationality with white parents, and he feels that difference keenly at this point in his life. So, it’s not only a book with a mystery, it’s a book about belonging and family.

I loved it.

Audiobook: Joyland

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by Stephen King
Read by Michael Kelly
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Content: Lot of language, including a dozen or so f-bombs (and that was just in the first half). It’s in the adult mystery section of the bookstore.

I was wandering around the store, looking for something to listen to, and I asked a coworker for a recommendation. I had been listening to a lot of humor, and I wanted something with more… weight. This is what she suggested to me. She pitched it as a coming-of-age novel, no horror, a slight mystery.

And so I went for it.

And got about a third of the way into it before I bailed. It’s the story of the summer of 1973, a boy from Maine who worked at a third-tier amusement park in North Carolina and his experiences that summer. By the time I bailed, his long-term girlfriend broke up with him and he’d saved a kid from choking to death. And there was an illusion to a grisly murder four years before. But that’s it. And I think that’s why I bailed when something better came along. It was meandering — a ton of foreshadowing, which just made me annoyed — and circular, and while Devin was okay as a main character, I just didn’t really care. That, and King introduced the murder fairly early on and then just let it hang there. Which drove me nuts. What’s the purpose of the murder? Why wait until nearly halfway through to bring it back up?

*sigh*

I really am ruined for adult books. Either that, or I’m just reading the wrong ones.

The Madman of Piney Woods

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by Christopher Paul Curtis
First sentence: “The old soldiers say you never hear the bullet that kills you.”
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Content: There’s nothing, language wise. However, Curtis tackles some pretty heavy issues: slavery, of course; but also Irish immigration, abuse, racism. It’s in the middle grade (grades 3-5) section of the bookstore, but I would exercise caution about giving this to sensitive children. Good for discussion, though.

It’s 1901, and Benji is a pre-teen in the all-black town of Buxton, Canada. He has a couple of younger siblings that get on his nerves, a best friend who is a good orator, and is both an aspiring newsman and someone who loves the woods. Red is a pre-teen in the nearby town of Chatham. His grandmother was an Irish immigrant, and he’s positively scared of her wrath. He spends his days in school, with his friends — one of whom has an alcoholic, abusive father — and at home dealing with his grandmother.

They’re the most unlikely of friends, but when they do meet, they hit it off.

Which comes in handy the night that the Madman of Piney Woods — a local homeless black veteran of the Civil War — is shot. It’s up to Benji and Red to make everything turn out, if not okay, then at least better than it could have ended.

Perhaps I should have taken the time, once I figured out that this was set in the same place, to reread Elijah of Buxton. Maybe I would have connected to it better. But, I think the main problem I have with this one is that the plot took a long time to show up. It’s told in alternating chapters, one Benji (who was more interesting than Red), one Red. And it took FOREVER for them to meet. (More than halfway through the book!). Once they met, the plot picked up, and I was able to finish fairly quickly. I did appreciate that Curtis was exploring ideas and themes that are tough to manage: the way humans treat other people being the primary theme. It’s an important thing to expose kids to, and to do so with a bit of a mystery story (more or less) is a good thing.

But that wasn’t enough to make me love this book, even though I really wanted to.

The Bridge of San Luis Rey

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by Thornton Wilder
First sentence: “On Friday noon, July the twentieth, 1714, the finest bridge in all Peru broke and precipitated five travelers into the gulf below.”
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Content: There’s really nothing, but because it’s a classic, it would be in the adult fiction section of the bookstore.

For my in-person last month, we wanted to read a classic. We looked at this huge long list of modern-day American classics some guy put up (I can’t remember right now who it was or why), and chose this one (mostly because it was the shortest). I know very little about Thornton Wilder; I’ve seen Our Town a couple of times (and never really “got” it) but that was the extent of my knowledge.

This story is a short one, a series of short vignettes about five people who died in a (fictional) bridge collapse in Lima, Peru in 1714. They were loosely interconnected, and the framework is about this monk who spent time researching their stories. I think it was supposed to be about the randomness of life and death, that both good and people can die at any moment and how it really doesn’t matter how you live your life.

Whatever.

Seriously. That’s how I ended up feeling at the end. I read the words, but none of them registered in my brain. I didn’t connect with any of the characters, the plot was nonexistent. I do have to admit that it may have been me (why else would it be on all the “you must read” lists?), because this isn’t the first book lately that I’ve gone “huh?” when I’ve finished. Slumps will do that to you.

Or maybe it’s the book. Either way, I finished it, but that’s about all I can say.