Strawberry Hill

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by Mary Ann Hoberman
ages: 8-11
First sentence: “You would have thought it was the best news in the world.”
Support your local independent bookstore: buy it there!

It’s the Depression, and Allie’s father has lost his job in New Haven, Connecticut. He has, however, found another job in Stamford. However, that means the family — Allie, her brother Danny, and her parents — will be moving away from everything Allie has known.

However, when Allie finds out that they will be living on a street called Strawberry Hill, everything will be okay. Won’t it?

This is the story of how Allie came to accept the inevitable, learn to like her new home, and make friends. It’s a quiet story, somewhat predictable, that follows Allie’s ups and downs over the first year that she lives in Stamford. There’s new places to discover, there’s a new school class to get used to, there’s disappointments, there’s pretty mean girls (there’s ALWAYS pretty mean girls), there’s new best friends, there’s unexpected friends.

What really made this book stand out for me, though, was the undercurrent of Jewishness. Allie and her family are Jewish — something that, unlike in, say, All-of-a-Kind Family, isn’t readily noticeable or even prevalent, but nonetheless is still there. The only holiday we get is Hanukkah, and other than a few mentions of temple, that’s pretty much it. Except for an instance of Antisemitism. That, in particular, I found intriguing, especially when Allie’s mom lays into the kid. It was the most obvious sign of the times — aside from a few mentions of lost jobs and hobos, the book could have been contemporary — and one that I thought was done quite well.

Overall, though, the book could have been better. According to the author blurb, Hoberman is a poet of some renown, and I couldn’t help but thinking that the language of the book just fell flat for me. I expected more of a poet, I guess. Something more, well, poetical.

That said, it is an interesting look at the Depression-era, and a nice story of friendship.

(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.)

Joey Fly, Private Eye

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in Creepy Crawly Crime
written by Aaron Reynolds/Illus. by Neil Numberman
First sentence: “Life in the bug city.”
Review copy sent to me by the author, as part of a blog tourish-type thing.

I had this sitting out, intending to read it and A, my darling nearly 6 year old, asked if I’d read it to her. Honestly, I was a little suspect: it’s a bug book, a detective book, and I thought it wouldn’t be of any interest to her.

I was wrong; she loved it. It’s a graphic novel with something for everyone: noir humor and asides for me, pretty bugs for A to like (and ugly bugs for the boys), and a mystery for both of us to figure out.

Joey is your quintessential noir detective in the big city — a bit jaded, yet with a heart of gold. He solves all sorts of crimes, and is pretty much determined to eek out an existence by himself. Until Sammy Stingtail shows up in his office. Much of the slapstick humor comes from Sammy: when his long tail is not wreaking havoc in Joey’s office, the two are bantering back and forth about the “rules” of detective work. The “crime” is fairly simplistic — a butterfly comes in accusing one of her former friends of stealing her diamond pencil case out of jealousy. Of course there will be twists and turns, and the resolution is definitely age-appropriate. (No bug squashing here.) The world created is also quite clever: it’s a city, but everything was proportionate to bugs, and bug-themed. My favorite was the high-rise made out of a milk carton (I think; I’d check that, but my kids have lent out the book!).

The art is pen and ink, in various shades. Blue for night, sepia for daytime; I initially thought that the art would be distracting for A, but in the end, it not only enhanced the atmosphere of the book, it gave us good stopping points — when the color changed, we stopped.

The humor was a bit over A’s head, butoverall she enjoyed the whole reading experience. As did I. A strong start to a new series. I’m looking forward to the next one.

Tis The Season!

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Okay, sure, it’s only November 2nd, but unless you live in the US, there’s nothing stopping us from thinking about Christmas. Is there? (NO!)

I found this through Presenting Lenore: it’s the Book Blogger Holiday Swap (3rd annual, right Nymeth?). They’ve gotten very streamlined and efficient this year there’s a Holiday Swap blog complete with a form to fill out. You can follow them on Twitter.

The only catch to all this is that if you’re going to join in (and I HOPE you are!), you have to sign up before November 12th.

Please do. It makes the holidays more fun (and yes, even in these hard economic times, it’s doable. It doesn’t have to be expensive). And you’ll meet new and fun bloggers doing it, too.

Happy Holidays!!

Al Capone Does My Shirts

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by Gennifer Choldenko
ages: 9-13
First sentence: “Today I moved to a twelve-acre rock covered with cement, topped with bird turd surrounded by water.”
Support your local independent bookstore: buy it there!

Moose Flannigan is NOT happy about his father’s new job. His father is a guard and an electrician on the most notorious prison in the country, especially in 1935: Alcatraz. And, because it’s 1935, that means the family gets to come along, too. Which means Moose has to leave his friends and start over.

All this is complicated by his sister Natalie’s condition. With today’s knowledge, she’d be diagnosed with autism. In the book — and I give Choldenko so much credit for making it seem as it probably really was, which was alternately quite revealing and very painful — she’s just got a “condition”, something that needs to be “cured”. Moose and Natalie’s mother was the hardest character to stomach: she couldn’t deal with Natalie, pretending she was ten for years, because younger children have more of a “chance” and because she just couldn’t deal with the fact that child was not “normal”. That I cringed every time she began to speak is a testament to how well Choldenko wrote her.

While autism, as well as Natalie’s acceptance to a special school in San Francisco, played a major role in the book, it wasn’t the whole plot. When Moose wasn’t struggling with his feelings about, or taking care of his sister, he was trying to figure out how to deal with the kids on the island — especially Piper (whom I wanted to smack!), the daughter of the warden, and who had it in her head that she could get away with just about everything — and trying to make friends at a new school, which is never easy. Choldenko got middle grade awkwardness down pat, from Moose’s reluctance to make waves to Piper’s bossiness. I also felt like she caught the time period; it felt like the 1930s, or at least what I imagine the 1930s to feel like.

Oh, and the ending: perfect.

Which makes me wonder what she’s done with Moose, Natalie and the island in the sequel. Something interesting, I hope.

If I Had Me A Time Machine

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When I saw this post at Fuse #8, I knew it was TOO much fun to pass up.

The premise: You have a time machine. In this time machine
you may take seven books. Your mission is to visit yourself, in the past, and to give yourself the books you wish you would have read as a kid. They can be old books or new books, it doesn’t matter. But they must be books you’ve run across as an adult, loved, and you know would have appealed to (or been good for) little you.

Ages 2 to 5:

Knuffle Bunny Too by Mo Willems
Really, anything by Mo would work. I would have adored his books. Really. I loved to laugh, and I was a precocious little kid. I totally would have identified with Trixie. And I’m sure my parents would have rather read Mo to me instead of those Golden Book books (though The Monster at the End of the Book is a good one) or the Berenstain Bears. (Ugh.)

Ages 6 to 9:

Moxy Maxwell Does Not Love Stuart Little, by Peggy Gifford
Yeah, I’m still young enough to be read to, but (as I said) I was a precocious kid. What I was into: Little House on the Prairie. What I really needed was a good dose of the humor and wit and practicalness of Moxy Maxwell. I would have gone around imitating her (instead of Laura Ingalls). On second thought, maybe that would be a bad idea?

Ages 10 to 12:

Just Ella, by Margaret Peterson Haddix
I LOVED princesses. (I am a girl, after all.) I remember dreaming about being a princess, being well-off, having everything I wanted in life. I would have handed my little self this book just to remind me that sometimes happily ever afters don’t work out, and it’s not the Prince that always sweeps you off your feet.

Ages 13 through 15:

The Graveyard Book and Coraline, by Neil Gaiman
This was my dark period: I loved Edgar Allen Poe, Ray Bradbury, Piers Anthony. I would have LOVED Neil Gaiman (who was writing when I was 13… how did I miss Sandman?). He totally fits in with my interests at the time: dark, creepy, slightly weird, and yet ultimately hopeful. I was an odd teenager. (I did eventually ditch the nerd look, and get contacts, too…)

Wee Free Men, by Terry Pratchett
Can’t have Gaiman without Pratchett, can we? I would have picked up on the humor, I could have used Tiffany’s strong will and determination in my life, and I would have loved the hint of romance in the later books.

Ages 17 or 18:

Graceling, Kristin Cashore
What I needed at this point in my life: a kick-butt heroine, who didn’t let men decide her fate (or break her heart), who gets out there and challenges the world and the social norms, who finds herself on her own and celebrates that.

And, yeah, she falls in love, but that’s beside the point.

And to balance that out, give me…

Girl at Sea, by Maureen Johnson
Because what every 17-year-old girl really wants is to fall in love with a hot college guy. And MJ gives it to us with humor instead of drama.

There you have it. What would your books be?

October Jacket Flap-a-Thon

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October. That wonderful month of changes — at least here — when the world turns from Summer to Fall, when the mind turns to the holidays.

When life gets incredibly busy and there isn’t enough time to sit and read. Though I did get a fair amount read this month, surprisingly.

On to the best of the bunch:

The Summer I Turned Pretty (Simon&Schuster): “Some summers are just destined to be pretty. Belly measures her life in summers. Everything good, everything magical happens between the months of June and August. Winters are simply a time to count the weeks until the next summer, a place away from the beach house, away from Susannah, and most importantly, away from Jeremiah and Conrad. They are the boys that Belly has known since her very first summer — they have been her brother figures, her crushes, and everything in between. But one summer, one wonderful and terrible summer, the more everything changes, the more it all ends up just the way it should have been all along.”

The best of the YA romance books I read this year: short, sweet, and captures the book perfectly.

Sweetness in the Belly (Penguin Press): “An evocative and richly imagined story of a British-born Muslim woman’s search for love and belonging in two very different worlds. When Lilly is eight years old, her pot-smoking hippie British parents leave her at a Sufi shrine in Morocco and inform her they will be back to collect her in three days. Three weeks later, she learns they’ve been murdered. Lilly fills that haunted hollow in her life with the intense study of the Qur’an under the watchful eye of the saint’s disciple she was entrusted to. Years later, her journey from Morocco to Harar, Ethiopia, is half pilgrimage, half flight. In Harar, even her traditional Muslim head scarves cannot hid her white skin in her strange new surroundings; the world farenji — foreigner — is hissed at her at every turn. She eventually builds a life for herself teaching children the Qur’an, and she finds herself falling in love with an idealistic young doctor.

I often complain about adult blurbs, but I think this one is spot on in capturing the tone and plot without being overlong.

Liar (Bloomsbury): “Micah will freely admit she’s a compulsive liar, but that may be the one honest thing she’ll ever tell you. Over the years, she’s fooled everyone: her classmates, her teachers, her parents. And she’s always managed to stay one step ahead of her lies. That is, until her boyfriend dies under brutal circumstances and her dishonesty begins to catch up with her. But is it possible to tell the truth when lying comes as easily as breathing? Taking readers deep into the psyche of a young woman who will say just about anything to convince them — and herself — that she’s finally co me clean, Liar is a bone-chilling thriller that will have readers seesawing between truths and lies right up to the end.”

Great! Intriguing, without giving a single. detail. away. Perfect.

Alvin Ho: Allergic to Camping, Hiking and Other Natural Disasters (schwartz and wade books): “Alvin Ho does not think the great outdoors is great. It is super-duper scary. here are a few reasons why: 1. Flash floods. 2. Meteorites. 3. Lots of creepy trees. 4. Pit toilets! Luckily, when his dad suggests — gulp! — a camping trip, Alvin is prepared. He has: 1. A portable generator. 2. Night-vision goggles. 3. Toilet paper. 4. More toilet paper! So grab your mosquito netting and your heavy-duty flashlight and experience the great outdoors with the one and only Alvin Ho.”

How can you not love Alvin? Really. And I love that the blurb writer loves him, too.

Other books read this month:
The Key to the Golden Firebird
Mission Control, This Is Apollo
Nothing But Ghosts
Ice
A Civil Contract (DNF)
Trail of Crumbs (DNF)
The Brilliant Fall of Gianna Z
The Stand
The Princetta
Emma-Jean Lazarus Fell Out of a Tree
Something, Maybe
Emma-Jean Lazarus Fell in Love

Ninth Grade Slays
The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Society
Moxy Maxwell Does Not Love Practicing the Piano

Moxy Maxwell Does Not Love Practicing the Piano

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But She Does Love Being in Rectials
by Peggy Gifford
ages: 7-11
First sentence: “It was just after 10:00 a.m. on Saturday, April 7, and Moxy Maxwell was still in bed.”
Support your local independent bookstore: buy it there!

I love Moxy.

I’m not ashamed of this because Moxy is awesome.

Very few books make me laugh, chortle, snort, guffaw, and giggle. Moxy makes me do all of those. Perhaps that’s because my sense of humor is not very sophisticated — I mean why does this chapter crack me up every time:

Chapter 29: In Which We Learn What Was Inside The Envelope. Inside THE ENVELOPE was the note.

That’s it. Entire chapter. Cracks me up every time. As did the dog barking (“barking and barking and barking” written very small over and over… in the shape of a dog.) and Mark’s pictures, especially his titles. (“My Sister Looks Better with a Cape Over Her Face”) Or the other best chapter:

Chapter 7: The Hook. The Hook is the part of a story that makes you, the Reader, want to keep reading to find out what happens next. Ideally, the Hook should come as early as Chapter 1 — Chapter 2 at the latest. Any later, and the author risks “losing the reader.” Which means you, the Reader, might put this book down for just one second to get some gum and never come back. So please hang on — even though it is already Chapter 7, Something Really Big is about to happen.

And, yes, Chapter 8 is called Something Really Big.

There is a plot: Moxy is to be in a piano recital. Playing “Heart and Soul” with her little sister, Pansy. Except there’s two problems: Moxy has a hard time stopping playing when the song’s over (it’s too short… really, if she’s going to Be On Stage, then she ought to make the most of it), and she’s a bit too distracted getting together the Perfect Outfit in order to, um, practice. Yes, there are escapades (this time involving fake ermine trim and an explosion of Green Grass Powder Shake powder) and problems (what happens when it’s actually time to go On Stage??)

It’s so much fun, I was sad when it ended. Hopefully, though, Moxy will have many many more adventures. If only to entertain me, the Reader.

The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Society

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by Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows
ages: adult
First sentence: “Dear Sidney, Susan Scott is a wonder.”
Copy won in a contest sponsored by A High and Hidden Place
Support your local independent bookstore: buy it there!

Sometimes, when I read a book, one word keeps popping in my mind. For this book, the one word I constantly thought was charming. Utterly, unabashedly, and unreservedly charming.

The book reminded me in many ways of 84 Charing Cross Road, and it wasn’t just that it was an epistolary novel. Shaffer and Barrows got a feel for the time (post-war), the place (England), and the people. That, and it’s a book about readers and community and belonging, all of which I totally love. It’s got a bit of everything, too: romance, literary illusions, soaring descriptions, history. It’s a war book, an epistolary novel, a romance, a work of historical fiction.

It’s nearly perfect.

Perhaps the only thing holding it back was the hype. I’m always suspicious of NY Times best-sellers, and while I think this one proved my suspicions wrong, I do think that I wanted more out of it. I wanted it to be more soaring, to be more than it actually was. Perhaps that’s the nature of the book, though: to get so involved in it that you want more at the end. Whatever the reason, I did enjoy the journey: I just wanted something more out of it.

But what I did get was thoroughly captivating.

2009 Challenge #6: RIP

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The good thing about doing one book for many challenges is that you finish them up quicker. I set out to read two books for Carl’s challenge, ended up reading four, and only one of the two I had set out to read.

I had a grand time, though.

The four I read:

1. The Stand, by Stephen King
2. The Moonstone, by Wilkie Collins
3. Great Stories and Poems of Edgar Allan Poe
4. Ninth Grade Slays, by Heather Brewer (I did get a vampire book in!)

My favorite? Toss up between The Moonstone and The Stand, though I’m glad I read some Poe.

Thanks, Carl. It was fabulous, as usual.
Wish me luck!