Review - "Crow"

Sometimes (more often than not, it seems), history can be a little dicey.  The course of human events is rarely neat and perfectly packaged.  We’re messy people, and our history reflects that.  Historical fiction thrives on our messiness and our mistakes.  We love to read about people who rise above their situations and survive the tides of history.  One such story is that of young Moses, in Barbara Wright’s Crow.  His journey through a rather unfortunate chapter in American history makes for a thrilling tale.

 One generation removed from slavery, Moses lives a good life in Wilmington, North Carolina.  His Howard University educated father is an Alderman, publisher of the only daily black newspaper in the South and a respected member of the African American community.  His mother has a steady job and his grandmother, Boo Nanny, is a fount of wisdom and stories.  But the innocence of Moses’ childhood bubble is about to break, with racial tensions soaring in town and a rising dread of what might happen if things get out of hand.  An editorial in the paper sparks a fire, and suddenly the streets are filed with mobs of Red Shirts, white men unhappy with the way things have changed and ready to take action with violence to change them back.  Moses finds himself in the middle of a firestorm, and must find hidden depths of courage he never knew he had.

It’s a sad thing to admit, but until I read this book, I wasn’t really aware of the Wilmington Massacre of 1898.  The name was vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t have told you any details if I tried.  That’s why I love books like Crow so much.  They open my eyes.  Moses’ story begins very episodically, with stories of school and strained friendships and new friendships, and a particularly memorable scene involving a stolen bike.  But as you read on, Wright pulls you farther and farther into Moses’ world until you’re completely immersed in the history and the violence and terror Moses faces leaves your heart beating in your throat.  This is not an easy book to read.  It presents a very ugly part of our past, and does so unflinchingly.  It’s for mature middle grade readers, that’s for sure.  But for those made of stern enough stuff to dive right in, it’s a sterling story, filled with wonderful characters and an ending that might have you reaching for the tissues, but feeling proud at the same time.

Crow by Barbara Wright
2012, Random House Books for Young Readers
Library copy

Review - "The Inquisitor's Apprentice"

A good book and a good mystery are like a good magic trick.  It's part skill and part misdirection.  We, the readers, must think one thing in order for us to be fooled by the eventual ending.  Chris Moriarty's newest book, The Inquisitor's Apprentice is a perfect magic trick, a mixture of good storytelling and sleight of hand.

Sacha Kessler has an unusual gift.  He can see magic when it is performed.  This makes him a valuable commodity, in a society where magic has been outlawed, and a police league of Inquisitors are on the prowl for anyone with magical ties.  Sacha soon finds himself apprenticed, along with the wealthy Lily Astral, to one of the greatest Inquisitors of all time, Mr. Wolf, an enigmatic slouch, who simply has to be more than he seems.  Before long, they are embroiled in their first big case, in which someone has released a dybbuk, an evil wandering spirit of the dead, on Thomas Edison, in the hopes of killing the great inventor.  The problem?  Thanks to Edison’s new witch hunter invention, every magically inclined citizen of New York City has a motive for wanting him gone.  Along the way, Sacha learns a new trick or two, makes new friends, comes to terms with his background and his future and faces great dangers, including one that could be the end of him forever.

The Inquisitor’s Apprentice is part historical novel (albeit of the alternative kind), part fantasy, part coming of age and all excellently done.  Moriarty draws upon real figures from history, Thomas Edison, J.P. Morgan and Houdini, and twists and shapes them to fit his new New York.  There is a side of history, that of the poor factory workers living in tenements on Hester Street and the Jewish community that has formed there, that you rarely find told in middle grade literature, and that alone is interesting enough.  Add to that a tightly crafted mystery and fantastical elements, and you have a wonderfully plotted book.  The Inquisitor’s Apprentice is not an easy book to read; it takes concentration.  It’s probably for the more advanced middle grade reader, someone who has the skills to tackle Moriarty’s vocabulary and complicated storytelling.  But there’s an audience for this tale, yes there is.  It’s just a matter of spotting the magic.

The Inquisitor’s Apprentice by Chris Moriarty

2011, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

Library copy

Review - "Tall Story"

There are big miracles, and there are small ones.  Small miracles are things like getting to play in a really important game, when you shouldn’t be allowed.  Big miracles, well, big miracles are big.  They can be life or death big, for one person, or even a whole village.  Candy Gourlay’s Tall Story deals with miracles, both big and small, and the ties that bind a family together, even from across the world.

Bernardo is tall.  Andi is not.  Bernardo lives in a small village in the Philippines.  Andi lives in a small (postage stamp small) apartment in London with her parents.  They may lead very different lives, but they have something in common: their mother.  They also have something else in common: a love of basketball.  Bernardo loves the game and famous players like Michael Jordan, but can’t play very much, because though he is very, very tall (eight feet!), his long limbs and big feet hinder his coordination and prevent him from running very fast.  Andi is often told (occasionally by her mother) that she cannot play basketball because she is too short.  This hardly stops her; in fact, she is very good.  She never misses a shot.  Never.Misses. She too is a fan of Michael Jordan.  The first miracle hits their lives when Andi’s family finally gets the house they’ve been wanting for so long.  Fast on its heels comes another miracle: Bernardo is finally allowed to come to the United Kingdom to live with his mother and step-father.

But miracles come with a cost.  In return for a new house, Andi must give up her hard-earned place on her school’s basketball team, and finds that her new school doesn’t allow girls to play.  And Bernardo leaves behind family and friends who love him, and a village myth that believes his presence is all that’s keeping the devastating earthquakes away.  Even the strange miracle of Bernardo’s great height comes with an alarming medical price.  As brother and sister get to know each other and how much they have in common, they learn about wishes and real miracles, and find that family might be the biggest miracle of them all.

Gourlay’s title, Tall Story, obviously refers to Bernardo’s eight foot tall frame, but elements of the story have a fable-ish quality to them, so it functions as a tall tale as well.  And what a tale she has told.  Both the mundane and the magical work so well together, told in Andi’s and Bernardo’s alternating voices, that the book reads like a dream.  I practically finished it in one sitting.  I was just as taken with Andi’s fierce moxie as with Bernardo’s gentle humility.  Gourlay has created very memorable characters, not only in our two narrative voices, but in their parents and caregivers, and especially Bernardo’s friend Jabby.  I enjoyed spending time in their world.  I look forward to seeing what Ms. Gourlay has coming for us next.  If Tall Story is any indication, it will be a delight to read.

 Tall Story by Candy Gourlay
2011, David Fickling Books
Library copy

Mini-Review - "What Animals Really Like"

Ah, the humor that comes from subverted expectations. Comedians the world over had made millions laugh with such verbal sleight of hand. One of the latest entries to this grand tradition of humor is What Animals Really Like by Fiona Robinson. Here we get the story of "legendary conductor Mr. Herbert Timberteeth" (excellent name, a beaver by trade), and his latest musical masterpiece. A whole menagerie of animals has come out to perform this latest opus, but little does Mr. Timberteeth know that his performers have a mind of their own. It all starts well: we have lions who like to prowl, wolves who like to howl, pigeons who like to coo and cows, who like to...dig. Dig!? It all goes downhill from there, as the animals take over and sing their own version of the song with things they really like to do. Did you know lions like flower arranging? Neither did I. Robinson's art, done in pen and ink and marker pens is imaginative, colorful and downright gleeful. Just imagine the expressions of some shrimp declaring their love of skiing. We also get a few wonderful shots of the listening audience, mere peering eyeballs in the darkness of the theater. The cover is a little bit of genius, bursting with animals in fancy dress preparing for the coming performance. The only thing that could have made this better would have been some giraffes. Seriously, where were the giraffes? This is going to be a wonderful read-aloud, perhaps well paired with JoAnn Early Macken's Baby Says "Moo"!.

What Animals Really Like by Fiona Robinson
2011, Abrams Books for Young Readers
Library copy

Review - "13 GIfts"

Life in Willow Falls has never been ordinary.  We've seen the evidence from Wendy Mass in 11 Birthdays and Finally, and in 13 Gifts, we see even more strangeness from this little out of the way burg.  After a school prank gone wrong (so much for fitting in with the popular kids), Tara Brennan is sentenced to a summer spent in her parents’ home town of Willow Falls.  While Tara plans on ducking her head and simply getting through it, her new friends insist on being, well, friendly.  They involve Tara in their activities, and sooner rather than later, Tara gets a glimpse into just how strange Willow Falls really is.  She makes a strange deal with Angelina, the oldest and most mysterious citizen, and has to find thirteen ordinary but unique objects before her thirteenth birthday, or risk endangering her very soul.  Thank goodness Tara has made friends, and friends who’ve dealt with Angelina before, because they all offer to help. 

13 Gifts is neither as magical as 11 Birthdays nor as age-sensitive as Finally, but it has its charms.  Tara is a wonderful character, full of rights and wrongs, and her willingness to simply jump in and believe in the unbelievability of Willow Falls is one of her best qualities.  Mass brings back characters from her previous works, Amanda, Leo and Rory, and has them act as guides to Tara’s extraordinary journey.  The conclusion is unexpected and a joy, something that gives everyone a little bit of what they want.  I don’t know if Mass intends to continue writing about the peculiar little town of Willow Falls, but I can see this series continuing on, up into YA territory, as the characters grow older, and Angelina and her duck (or is it a chicken?) birthmark gets new projects every year.

13 Gifts by Wendy Mass
2011, Scholastic Press
Library copy

Graphic Novel Round-Up Part Two

Anya’s Ghost – Any book that is blurbed by Neil Gaiman as being “a masterpiece!” (punctuation and everything) has got some big shoes to fill.  Such is the case for Vera Brosgol’s debut graphic novel, Anya’s Ghost, and let me just say, she’s done it.  This is a small masterpiece of a first book, a textured, dryly funny and seriously spooky tale of teenagedom and all the angst that comes with being an outsider.  It’s hard to speak of the plot without delving too far into spoiler territory, so I’ll be brief.  Anya is a Russian immigrant trying desperately to fit in to her private school life.  She has one good friend, one major crush on the star of the basketball team, and one tragic fall down an abandoned well that has her face to face with the ghost of Emily Reilly, whose bones have been lying at the bottom of the well for ninety years.  Hijinks ensue wherein Emily helps Anya with her schoolwork and with her social life, but soon Anya realizes Emily is a little too invested in Anya’s life, and things start down a dangerous road.  Brosgol’s art, in shades of black, white and gray, is wonderfully evocative.  What she achieves just with eyes (or lack thereof) is pretty remarkable.  The storytelling is really the star, however, as it takes hold of you early and doesn’t let go until you’ve put the book down and had a good long think.  If this is what Brosgol gives us on her first time out, I can’t wait to see what she’s got as a follow up.

Anya’s Ghost by Vera Brosgol
2011, First Second
Personal copy

Bad Island – Doug TenNapel’s follow up to the wonderful Ghostopolis, Bad Island, lives up to its name.  That is one bad island.  Think the “Lost” island mixed with The Island of Dr. Moreau.  The island has an ancient mythology and a family cast away on its dangerous shores.  Teenage Reece can’t get out of a family trip on the boat, but when a storm shipwrecked the family on strange shores, he’s glad to be with family, even his annoying little sister Janie and her dead snake Pickles (Pickles didn’t survive the crash).  Things seem normal at first, but soon the island starts showing its ugly side with strange monsters and carnivorous trees.  Reece and his family must solve an ancient mystery to unlock the island’s secrets and get safely home.  Like with Ghostopolis, TenNapel’s art is key.  From action packed battle scenes to intimate talks around a fire, every panel is imbued with life and color.  Some markings seem to glow right off the page.  I didn’t like the story as much as Ghostopolis (but then again, I’m a sucker for a good ghost story), and things do get a little muddled when moving back and forth between times, but for the most part, it moves smoothly and at a great pace.  As with Ghostopolis, I’m sure Bad Island will simply fly off my shelves, and I’ll rarely see it checked in for too long a stretch, which is a great thing.

Bad Island by Doug TenNapel
2011, GRAPHIX
Library copy

Sidekicks – Finally, I get to a “traditional” graphic novel, i.e., a superhero story.  It may be traditional, but there’s nothing conventional about Dan Santat’s Sidekicks, the story of a superhero and his super sidekicks, even the ones he doesn’t know about.  Sidekicks tells the tale of Captain Amazing, who’s getting a little long in the tooth.  He decides it’s time for a new sidekick, and his pets Roscoe (a dog), Fluffy (a hamster) and Shifty (a chameleon) are up for the challenge.  They practice in secret, with the begrudging help of Manny, aka Static Cat, who was Captain Amazing’s old partner and pet before he ran away.  Sidekicks has all the tellings of a great superhero legend.  It’s the classic origin story of how the gang got together and learned how to use their superpowers.  There’s lots of first rate action and witty dialogue and characters you can really get behind.  Who doesn’t want to root for little Fluffy in his red, white and blue bedecked costume when he hits the streets to fight crime?  I certainly hope this is only the first in a long line of Sidekicks stories.  There’s a whole wide world of superhero mythos to plumb, and I can’t wait to see what’s next for our heroes.

Sidekicks by Dan Santat
2011, Arthur A. Levine Books
Library copy

Review - "The Luck of the Buttons"

Plucky, intelligent young girls are hardly a new concept for juvenile literature. We've got our May Amelias, our Anne Shirleys, our Hermione Grangers. So it's hard to write a character like that and make her someone new, someone exciting. This is partially where I felt disappointed with last year's Newbery winner, Moon Over Manifest. Abilene Tucker didn't strike me as someone new or exciting at all. In fact, I felt I'd met characters like her a dozen times over, and it hurt my enjoyment of the book. So taking this into account, I approached Anne Ylvisaker's The Luck of the Buttons with some trepidation. What would this book offer me that others haven't? Would Ylvisaker be able to give me a character that was both original and interesting?

Tugs Button comes from a long line of the unlucky. So unlucky, in fact, the family has a pie-eating coping mechanism. So when lucky things begin to happen to Tugs, like getting invited to a birthday party and winning a raffle, the family doesn't quite know what to do with her. Luckily, Tugs always knows just what to do with herself. She takes her raffle prize, a camera, a Kodak No. 2 Brownie F model, and is determined to make the most of it. Meanwhile, there's a shady character in town, and Tugs seems to be the only one in town who isn't under his spell. Her quick thinking and investigative work just might be in time to save the day, and the town.

It turns out that Tugs Button was exactly the kind of character that I needed, and Ylvisaker did have something new and exciting between her pages. There are shades of other girls we've known and loved (especially fellow tomboy May Amelia), but Tugs is someone interesting on her own merit. The element of luck, her newfound talent for it and her family's lack of it, lends an unexpected element to the proceedings. I loved reading about how the family prepares pies for various misfortunes, and how Tugs finally loses her patience with the brooding, complaining family and speaks her mind. Tugs desire for friendship with the well-to-do Aggie and the girly, cliquey "Mary" girls is something we can all understand, as is her decision not to be "hemmed in by a dress", especially when there are much more exciting goings on.

I didn't love The Luck of the Buttons, but I did enjoy it. It left me feeling pleased I had taken the time to read it, and eager to read more, which is always a good sign. Whether Ylvisaker chooses to continue the adventures of the irrepresible Tugs or branch out with other characters and stories, I'll be anxious to see what she has in store for us.

The Luck of the Buttons by Anne Ylvisaker

2011, Candlewick Press

Library copy

Review - "Between Shades of Gray"

Between Shades of Gray tells a story of a portion of history about which I am largely ignorant.  My history text books did not take the time to tell of Stalin's reign of terror during World War II and beyond, so occupied were they with what the rest of the world was doing.  Stories like that of Lithuanian fifteen-year-old Lina were rarely told, and when they were, it was mostly as an afterthought.  This is part of the reason Ruta Sepetys' new young adult novel is so valuable.  It offers a testament to the horror of this time, and gives a voice to the millions of victims who have gone voiceless for so long.

 Lina is a typical fifteen year old girl.  She has her friends, her interests (painting and drawing, at which she excels) and her family.  But all that was normal and safe in her life is shattered one night when the NKVD, Soviet police, come barging in her home to arrest the family.  For what, Lina doesn't know.  From this point on, Lina's tale becomes one of survival, first the over-crowded, filthy train car, then work camps in Siberia and the dreaded winters.  All the while, Lina chronicles the horror around her in words and pictures that keep a spark of hope alive.

 I don’t want to write too much about what Lina goes through, partly because much of it is too horrible to repeat and partly because it has to be lived, as the reader lives it, in order to maintain the full value and impact of the text.  For impactful it is, hitting hard notes that certainly resonated with me.  The book is not a long one; it can be completed in one marathon session if you can stand absorbing the entire trauma at once.  But what it lacks in length, it more than makes up for in quality and texture.

 Lina is a wonderful character, one with faults and quirks, but one who discovers an iron backbone through her ordeal.  Sepetys’ secondary characters are just as wonderfully drawn, from Lina’s strong and nurturing mother, to Andrius, her complicated love interest, and even the bald-headed man who accompanies Lina and her family on their terrifying journey.  Everyone is given their humanity, with all its bumps and bruises, and their struggle for survival becomes a beautiful thing to behold.

I said before that Between Shades of Gray is a valuable book, and I stand by that.  Stories like these need to be told, and told often, and retold, until they permeate the general consciousness.  I can imagine Sepetys’ text becoming a standard with which this period of history is taught (and it should be taught), much in the same way that Lois Lowry’s Number the Stars tells a story of the Holocaust for younger readers.  It’s the perfect book for such an endeavor.  It’s horrifying, for sure, but just like the cover image, with its shoot of green through the ice, it is infused with hope, and that is something we can never do without.

Between Shades of Gray by Ruta Sepetys

2011, Puffin Books

Library copy

Review - "Marty McGuire"

Marty McGuire does not do princesses. She doesn't do frilly dresses or tiaras or waltzes. She'd much prefer to be playing outdoors, rescuing imaginary chimpanzees like Jane Goodall and pretending to win the Nobel Peace Prize. But when it comes time for the third grade play, "The Frog Prince", Marty is called upon to be the princess, and she's not happy about it. Eventually she gets into the whole acting thing, with the help of a wonderful teacher, and even finds herself having fun, learning to improvise and looking forward to the performance. But there's just one thing wrong: the stuffed frog taking the place of the enchanted prince is limp and silly looking, and after one particularly enthusiastic throw from Marty, missing a leg. So Marty and her friend Rupert come up with an ingenious plan to spice up the play, just in time for performance night.

It's hard to be different sometimes, but the refreshing thing about the title character of Kate Messner's Marty McGuire is that she finds being different not much of an issue at all. So what if she doesn't like princesses and dancing and other girly things? Marty is just fine with herself the way she is, and though she does learn to compromise, she doesn't change to be like the other girls. There is a subplot to the story that involves Marty's best friend Annie going over to the side of filly things and making new friends at dance class, and this obviously causes some jealousy on Marty's part, but again, doesn't have her running to "fit in" in order to get Annie back. She takes her mother's advice, and lets Annie come back on her own. It's nice to have a heroine like Marty, who is practical, in a third grade kind of way, and has the humor and sensibility to go with the bumps of life, even if it takes some talking to bring her around.

A note on the illustrations: Brian Floca does a wonderful job (surprise, surprise) of capturing little quiet moments, such as Marty listening through the door, with her favorite stuffed animal Bob the lion at her side, along with the bigger louder moments. The black and white illustrations are very lively. I love how the cover image catches Marty with her sleeves rolled up, in the process of doing a very un-girly thing. It's a perfect moment of stillness right before the action starts.

Marty McGuire by Kate Messner (ill. by Brian Floca)

2011, Scholastic Press

Library copy

Review - "Like Pickle Juice on a Cookie"

Everyone in the world knows the pain of having to say goodbye to someone they love. It's one of those universal levelers that make all peoples equal. Whether it's a parting of friends or a death of a loved one, no matter the age, the pain is real and tender. Books about saying goodbye are plentiful. There are books like Neil Armstrong is My Uncle and Other Lies Muscle Man McGinty Told Me that deal with a friend that has moved away and the hole that can leave in someone's life, and there are books too numerous to mention (but take Mockingbird for example) that look at the death of someone close to you. Like Pickle Juice on a Cookie by Julie Sternberg is one of the former kinds of books. The separation at the heart of the book goes right to the soul of its eight-year-old heroine.

Eleanor's parents have bad news. Not the worst (Grandma's doing fine), but still pretty bad. Bibi, Eleanor's one and only beloved babysitter, is moving away. This makes for a very bad summer vacation, "As bad as pickle juice on a cookie." At first, everything reminds Eleanor of Bibi, from her bike to Roma Pizza. Eleanor is blessed with two very understanding and helpful parents, who go out of their way to make things better for their only child. Eventually, Eleanor gets a new babysitter, who has all the right moves, but isn't Bibi. But slowly, this becomes okay. Eleanor and Natalie play games together, go on walks, and wait for the mailwoman every day for a letter from Bibi. Of course, the letter finally comes, and it allows Eleanor some closure.

Like Pickle Juice on a Cookie is written in a semi-poetic language, but one that feels very germane to inner workings of an eight-year-old. Eleanor's feelings are very raw, and very easy to relate to. As I said, who hasn't lost someone? Sternberg does a wonderful job of getting inside Eleanor's head and letting us feel her sadness, her apprehension about joining the third grade, and her growing okay-ness with Natalie and moving on. Illustrations by Matthew Cordell also add to the inviting atmosphere. Because Eleanor has everyone on her side, her parents, her new babysitter, even her friend who is away for the summer, there is very little conflict in this little book, but it seems to get by just fine without it. We wait, just as Eleanor does, for those sure to be comforting words for Bibi, and sure enough, when they come, it's enough to bring a tear to your eye. The final letter is clear and compact, but full of love. Like Pickle Juice on a Cookie is also light and small, but also full of lovely thoughts.

Like Pickle Juice on a Cookie by Julie Sternberg, ill. by Matthew Cordell

2011, Amulet Books

Library copy

Review - "The Midnight Tunnel"

I've said before that mysteries were not really my thing growing up, but I'm really starting to come around. There's something about an intrepid young detective that sparks my interest now. I don't know if it's the danger, the smarts or the twists and turns these young ladies (for it always seems to be a young ladies) face that are reaching out to me or if it's something else entirely, but I've just about turn around into a mystery convert. The latest young lady to take the stage is eleven-year-old Suzanna Snow, star of Angie Frazier's The Midnight Tunnel.

It's 1904, and another summer has come for Suzanna, of Zanna, at the Rosemount Hotel, which her parents manage. This summer, Zanna is apprenticed in the kitchen, but she'd much rather be out and about, taking notations in her notebook, honing her skills as a detective, just like her famous Uncle Bruce, who lives and works in Boston. Even though she takes notice of every small little thing (and you always know those small details will come back), Zanna hardly dreams that she'll soon be in the middle of an honest to goodness mystery when a young girl, a guest at the hotel, goes missing one stormy night. Zanna thinks she saw Maddie being taken away on the night in question, but she can't get any of the adults to take her seriously. So of course, this calls for some on the side investigation. Aided by Will, her Uncle Bruce's nephew, Zanna follows clue to clue through to the logical conclusion and, of course, saves the day.

What I like most about Zanna is her willingness to bend the rules to get what she wants or needs. She's not reckless or hurtful, just independent, like sleuths Flavia de Luce and Enola Holmes before her (ok, Flavia is occasionally hurtful, I'll give you that). She respects her parents, and tries to obey her mother's rules of "social taboos", but sometimes a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do. I liked her indignation when the search for Maddie slows down and people start to lose interest in the little girl's safety. Zanna's got spirit, yes she does. The setting for this mystery is another high point. With open beaches, long, dark tunnels and junk rooms filled with debris, the locations provided an excellent atmospheric backdrop to the action. What Frazier's really done is given us a solid mystery that's easy to follow, even when it has many balls up in the air, and a delightful new character to add to the pantheon of great girl detectives. I look forward to more Suzanna Snow mysteries, as I certainly hope there will be more to come.

The Midnight Tunnel: A Suzanna Snow Mystery, by Angie Frazier
2011, Scholastic
Library copy

Review - "The Trouble with May Amelia"

Oh May Amelia.  What shall be done with May Amelia Jackson?  She won't wear dresses, won't be a proper lady, and drives her family to distraction with all the trouble she manages to get into.  I was thrilled to learn that May Amelia, the irrepressible heroine of Jennifer L. Holm's Newbery Honor book Our Only May Amelia would be back for another adventure with The Trouble with May Amelia.  Children's lit needs girls like May Amelia, girls who are smart but not too smart, tough but not too tough and full of that particular kind of energy you get when a young girl is on her way to becoming a young woman.  Whether she likes it or not.

The Trouble with May Amelia is very much like its predecessor, in that it is mostly a collection of stories in chapter form.  We get the story of Friendly, the mad bull out to terrorize the children at the schoolhouse, the story of Jaakko and Helmi, May Amelia’s cousins, who come from Finland after a tragedy hits their family, and the story of a business venture that could change the face of the Nasal community and the lives of the whole Jackson family.  And through it all, May Amelia keeps her spirit, even when the worst happens and she finds herself on the outside looking in.

I love May Amelia.  I love her sense of humor, which is in full force here.  I love her dedication to and exasperation with her brothers and most of all her indefatigable spirit in the face of some terrible events.  Holm has once again given us a stellar character presented with unique (and entertaining) challenges and a touching, perfectly May Amelia ending.  I have to say I enjoyed this sequel just as much as the original, which I recently reread.  So what's to be done with May Amelia, who insists on being the grain of sand in an oyster, instead of the pearl?  Nothing, I suppose, because we wouldn't have her any other way.

The Trouble with May Amelia by Jennifer L. Holm

2011, Atheneum Books for Young Readers
Library copy

Review - "Inside Out and Back Again"

Verse novels can sometimes be difficult for me to get my head around. Poetry as a form seems so much more subjective to me than prose, so I tend to find myself struggling to parse and analyze what I see in front of me. The truth is, if I find myself spending time analyzing the form of the novel, it's already lost me. I should be able to drift off into the story, reading as easily as I would any other book. Thankfully, this is exactly what happened while I was reading Inside Out and Back Again, the new novel from Thanhha Lai.

Largely autobiographical, Inside Out and Back Again tells a year in the life of ten-year-old Kim Hà, as she moves with her family from her home in Vietnam when Saigon falls to Alabama, and the basement of her American sponsor. She moves from a life that, though troubled by war, is familiar and full of the things she loves, like her beloved Papaya tree, to a life of alienation and uncertainty. The novel is divided into four parts, labeled "Saigon", "At Sea", "Alabama" and "From Now On" and each entry is dated, though some have only approximate times, and some are even labeled "Every day".

I was drawn into Hà’s world very easily and was able to sympathize with her status as the youngest and only girl. Lai uses language beautifully to describe Hà’s confusion, determination and longing for a missing father she does not even remember. What is most enjoyable about this book, as I said before, was how easily it reads, smoothly and with nary a hiccup on the horizon. Lai hasn't taken too difficult things, a verse novel and an historical fiction novel, and blended them together beautifully, in a book that is both memorable and meaningful.

A note on the cover: While the art gives away nothing of time or place, I find the colors and the movement simply beautiful. It's probably my favorite cover of the year so far.

Inside Out and Back Again by Thanhha Lai
2011, HarperCollins
Library copy

Quickie Review - "Dragonbreath - Lair of the Bat Monster"

Danny the dragon is back in another adventure from funny gal Ursula Vernon. Lair of the Bat Monster finds our hero, along with his best friend Wendell and his cousin Steve, in Mexico. After saving a small brown bat (actually of the species "big brown bat"), Danny and Wendell want to learn more about bats, so they accompany bat expert Steve to the caves where he does his research and while there, they discover the stuff of legend. The Camazotz, the enormous lord of the bats once worshipped by the Zapotec people. Unfortunately, the Camazotz takes a liking to Danny, and Wendell and Steve are soon on a quest to rescue the little dragon from its fuzzy clutches. Like the other adventures of Danny Dragonbreath, Lair of the Bat Monster is full of jumps and laughs and jokes both elegant and ordinary. Wendell is a wonderful source of amusement, as he worries about mosquitoes, losing limbs and being eaten alive by bugs. Vernon's expressive illustrations go a long way towards creating the mood, and she has the design of her main characters down to an exact science. Every placement of the pupil in an eyeball is designed for full effect. This is a great series for fans of Wimpy Kid, comic books and funny bones in general.

Dragonbreath: Lair of the Bat Monster, by Ursula Vernon
2011, Dial
Library copy

Review - "The Incorrigible Children of Ashton Place: The Hidden Gallery"

There's something to be said for "more of the same". It can be a negative phrase, but I prefer to use it in a positive light. When I eat a delicious meal, I might ask for more of the same. And when I read a good book, it's almost a knee-jerk reaction to request more of the same. When I first read the first book in Maryrose Wood's series The Incorrigible Children of Ashton Place, titled The Mysterious Howling, I was entranced. I adored the Snickety (I do believe "Snickety" should be a proper adjective) language, and the memorable characters, even if the "mystery" isn't all that mysterious. And so it was with pleasure that I picked up the second volume, The Hidden Gallery, and was delighted to find more of the same.

In The Hidden Gallery, plucky young governess Penelope Lumley finds herself, with her three charges, swept along to London for the season, leaving Ashton Place behind. With the help of her "Hixby's Guide to London", Penelope plans to have many educational outings for Alexander, Beowulf and Cassiopeia, but things do not always go as she plans. Along the way, she meets a new friend, the children receive a chilling prediction, the subject of mail is discussed at length and a West End debut ends in a thrilling chase scene.

The Hidden Gallery is definitely "more of the same", but I'm happy to report it is more than that besides. There's more character development, more exciting set pieces, and though it offers no more answers than the first book, it has a satisfying conclusion, one that leaves you both content and ready for more. There are new elements to the series' main mystery, and they are very welcome, because they add a layer of depth that the first book lacked. Like its predecessor, The Hidden Gallery is a lot of fun. I already have several patrons in line waiting for it, but I know I'll also be recommending this series like crazy this summer.

The Incorrigible Children of Ashton Place: The Hidden Gallery by Maryrose Wood

2011, Balzer + Bray

Library copy

Review - "Bitter Melon"

I’m not sure what it is that appeals to me in YA literature these days.  When I actually was a young adult, I wasn’t reading typical YA fare.  There are classics in the genre that I didn’t read until I was an adult, and some notable standouts that I still haven’t read (Judy Blume, I’m looking your way).  When I was a teenager, I just wasn’t interesting in teenage things, and it wasn’t until I started running a youth/children’s department at a bookstore that I really started to look at what was being published and began to get interested.  Since then there have been books that I’ve loved, and books that I wonder how they ever got published.  Fortunately there were far more of the former than the latter.  Now that I’m a children’s librarian, YA literature isn’t a professional responsibility, but I still enjoy keeping up with what’s new.  And one title I picked up off the new books shelf was Bitter Melon by Cara Chow.

Frances Ching, a Chinese-American teenager, has her life mapped out for her: attend UC Berkley, become a doctor and help take care of her mother.  It’s her mom’s plan, and one that timid Frances has never really questioned.  That is, until a mix-up on her senior year schedule puts in her speech class instead of calculus.  Slowly, Frances realizes she has a voice, and beyond even that, she has a choice.  But how can she make choices that break her mother’s heart, after all she’s done for Frances, working long hours and sacrificing much for her daughter’s education?  Frances grows to realize that she’s suffered too, oppressed under her mother’s unrealistic expectations and sometimes cruel and unwarranted punishments.  She must learn the power of her own voice and make the tough choices that will lead her to her own life, not one that has been chosen for her.

Reading Bitten Melon was a little oppressive, and I mean that in the best possible way.  I felt all the pressure placed on Frances by her mother and her culture, and I related to her desire to make her mother happy, even when her mother seems to show no concern for her daughter’s happiness at all.  Chow does a wonderful job with the complicated emotions of Frances, and the even more complicated decisions she must make.  Frances is a likable, relatable character, as is her best friend Theresa.

It’s got to be a hard thing to portray child abuse in such a way that can still leave you feeling sympathy for the abuser.  In one scene, Frances’ mother beats her with the trophy she has earned in a speech contest, and yet still we feel for Mrs. Ching in small amounts, in the way she feels abandoned and betrayed, not only by her daughter but her way of life.  I have to wonder how much, if any, of this story, set in the late 1980s, is based on the author’s real life.  I also wonder about what a good pairing this would make with the controversial Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother by Amy Chua.  Bitter Melon is a gripping story, written with a confident hand.  I would definitely recommend it to any teenagers, or older tweens, that wander my way.

Bitter Melon by Cara Chow

2010, Egmont USA

Library copy

Review - "Swan Fake"

My love for fairy tales strikes again.  There are reasons these stories exist in our minds the way they do, their themes and structures lingering and leaving their mark on so many things we create.  The “Cinderella” story has been done over so many times, in so many different ways, from so many different angles (I particularly enjoyed Lily Archer’s YA title, The Poison Apples, which focused on the wicked step-mother aspect).  Maya Gold’s Cinderella Cleaners series is another modern take on the tale, in which Diana Donato works after school at her father’s dry cleaning business, at the insistence of her step-mother, Fay.  The sixth installment, Swan Fake, finds Diana agreeing to do a friend an enormous favor: taking her place in the ballet “The Nutcracker” for her opening dance.  Diana hasn’t taken ballet lessons in years, and has her own show to worry about, with her solo in her school’s production of “The Snow Queen”   Of course, it wouldn’t be a fairy tale if the heroine didn’t manage to help her friend in need and have her own moment in the spotlight, now would it?

The thing I like most about this series is its rebellious spirit.  Diana isn’t a perfect girl; not as a student, an actress, an employee or even a daughter.  She’s a good girl, but has in her a spark of disobedience that is required for most great adventures, and while her forays into the unfamiliar while wearing borrowed clothing don’t always lead her to extreme heights, it’s enough for a thirteen year old on a school night.  Cinderella Cleaners comes packed with a ‘be your own fairy godmother’ mentality that is a good thing to instill in a girl’s mind, even if it means being a little naughty, just a little bit of the time.

Cinderella Cleaners #6: Swan Fake by Maya Gold
2011, Scholastic
Library copy

Review - "Freedom Stone"

Jeffrey Kluger's Freedom Stone is an odd little book. Part historical fiction, part magical fantasy, it meshes together in the story of one slave child trying to write a wrong, save her little brother from being sold and see her family free. Lillie is thirteen years old when her father is killed fighting for the Confederate army, an act that should have freed her, her mother and her brother, Plato. But when a sack of Union gold is found on her father's person, he is called a thief, and their Master not only keeps the gold for himself, but refuses to free Lillie and her family. Lillie must prove her father was an honest man, and goes about doing so with the help of Bett, the old slave woman who bakes bread. Because Bett has a secret. Her baking can bend time, making it slow down, like the bees outside her cabin, or sped up, as Lillie needs it to do one night when she has a mission at another plantation.

I wasn't sure how I felt about Freedom Stone when I finished it. It had taken a day or two to really get into the story, though once it hit its stride, I was invested and eager to get to the conclusion. There was just something that unsettled me, and I think I know now what it was. The magical element of the story, while inventive, was not really needed. This was a story that could have been told, with only a few changes, with no magic at all. I would almost say the magic was wasted. Lillie is a wonderful character, full of strength and courage, and her story has a certain charge to it that would have been just as interesting without the magic of Bett's stones.

I would still recommend Freedom Stone to readers. My only issue was in wishing the magical elements of the story had been better integrated. As a whole it has value as historical fiction, and its point of view (acknowledging that slaves weren't simply, magically freed when Lincoln signed the Emancipation Proclamation) is one that you don't see very often and was interesting to read. And Lillie is definitely a character worth getting to know.

Freedom Stone by Jeffrey Kluger
2011, Philomel
Library copy

Review - "Amelia Lost"

Sometimes there is nothing quite so exciting as the unknown.  Unsolved mysteries may be frustrating, but they're fascinating in equal measure.  And any biographer who tackles Amelia Earhart must have a deft hand with the mysterious and the unknowable, not only because of the famous aviatrix's legendary disappearance, but because of the layers upon layers of "myth and legend" that Amelia herself piled upon her person during her lifetime.  Candace Fleming touches on this very difficulty in the opening to her Amelia Lost: The Life and Disappearance of Amelia Earhart.  Where does the image stop and the real person begin?

Fleming does a marvelous job at peeling back the layers of Amelia’s persona and presents a realistic, even handed portrait of a real woman, a woman with dreams and goals, the intelligence to surround herself with the people she needs and the driving force to make her dreams become reality.  Fleming’s Amelia is a complicated woman, and though she treads lightly, Fleming doesn’t shy away from topics that paint her heroine in a bad light.  Among the topics covered in the book are the beginning of Amelia’s relationship with George Putnam, while he was still married, and the numerous aviators and flying professionals who had serious doubts about Amelia’s skills as a flyer.  Fleming clearly has a lot of respect for her subject, and isn’t afraid to show her weaknesses. 

The most fascinating parts of this biography were the accounts of individuals who claimed to have heard the voice of Amelia Earhart through their radios on the day she disappeared.  People like homemaker Mabel Larremore, who heard Amelia’s voice calling for help.  Fleming ends each of these accounts with questions rather than statements.  “Was Mabel’s story really true?”  She doesn’t offer answers to the mystery, but leaves the reader to draw their own conclusions. 

I wouldn’t say I’ve always been fascinated by Amelia Earhart, but like many others, when the topic is broached, I’m an interested listener.  How could you not wonder how someone like that could simply disappear?  How could the Navy have failed to find her and navigator Fred Noonan?  How could Amelia have made such careless mistakes as not learning how to properly use her airplane’s radio communicator?  And why, after all these years, do we still not know for certain what happened that fateful day?  It’s a fascinating story, one I intend to read more about (I’ve already picked up Mary Lovell’s tame but readable The Sound of Wings), and Fleming has delivered a wonderful book, sure to entrance new readers for years to come.

Amelia Lost: The Life and Disappearance of Amelia Earhart by Candace Fleming
2011, Random House Children’s Books
Library copy

Review - "Cloaked"

I've said before that I'm a fan of fairy tales, and fairy tales deconstructed. I find these stories fascinating, the way they move across cultures and adapt for their surroundings. So any time a book incorporates fairy tales in its storytelling, you better bet I'll be nearby. I loved Alex Flinn's Beastly, a solid story from a different point of view with wonderful touches of magic and modernity. I haven't read her A Kiss in Time (it's on my list), but I just had the opportunity to put my paws on her newest novel, Cloaked, which once again takes up the hero's point of view and puts him on the road for a rollicking good adventure.

Taking its cues from half a dozen fairy tales (at least), Cloaked tells the story of Johnny Marco, a seventeen-year-old living in South Beach, working at his family's shoe repair shop.

"My family's run the shoe repair at the Coral Reef Grand, a posh hotel on South Beach, since before I was born - first my grandparents, then my parents, now my mother and me. So I've met the famous and the infamous, the rich and the...poor (okay, that would be me), wearers of Bruno Magli, Manolo Blahnik, and Converse (again, me). I know the beautiful people. Or at least I know their feet."

Then one day a princess walks into his shop, the young Victoriana from Aloria, a fictional, French-speaking country, and turns his life upside down. One minute Johnny's biggest worry is how to pay the electric bill, the next, he's off on a quest for the princess to recover her brother, Philippe, who has been turned into a frog and is loose somewhere in south Florida. There is magic in the world, he discovers, and he learns to use part of it by means of a cloak that will taken him anywhere he wishes (but he must learn to be very specific) and an earpiece that will allow him to speak with animals, at least those who used to be human. Along his way, Johnny is joined on his quest by his best friend, Meg, and sparks fly in every direction when they get close and when they fight. All fairy tales must have a happy ending, of course, and this one does it up right, with a few twists and surprises on the way (although I wasn't particularly surprised by one of them).

Part of the charm of Cloaked is Johnny. He's affable, a sort of teenage everyboy, but one that harbors a special dream and talent. He wants to design and make women's shoes. That in and of itself is unusual, but I love that Flinn doesn't make a big deal about it. The dude loves shoes, and that's just fine. Johnny's an easy character to like, necessary for the kind of journey Flinn puts him on, so that even when he does something dumb (and he does, often), you're still on his side. Meg doesn't succeed quite as well. She's a little bit of a stock friend character, but charming in her own way. I just happened to find the princess, with her frantic faith in Johnny as a "good boy" and slightly sneaky manipulation of her own image, a little more interesting, and I was a bit disappointed when we didn't get more of her.

The fairy tales are the real gem of this book, though. Here are stories less well known than your average princess tale, including "The Salad", a personal favorite of mine. Also at work in Cloaked are "The Elves and the Shoemaker" (of course), "The Six Swans" and "The Fisherman and His Wife". I was thrilled to find a fairy tale at work that even I was unaware of; Flinn names it "The Golden Bird", though it was originally a Russian tale called "The Firebird and the Gray Wolf". Flinn incorporates all these tales quite deftly, spinning them together into a story of her own, one that captures the imagination and keeps you on the edge of your seat. This is a must read for dedicated fairy tale fans.

Cloaked by Alex Finn
2011, HarperCollins
Library copy