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How Does Something Like This Happen?

I’m writing this post two days before Christmas, but I’m saving it until after Christmas because it’s going to sound grinch-y. And picky. But I’m writing it anyway.

Isn’t Hyperion Books a major publisher? Don’t they have editors and staff and people who read their books before they are published to make sure there aren’t any grammatical errors or spelling errors?

I just read one of the books that was nominated for the Cybil Middle Grade Fiction award. This book was a hardcover copy of the book from the library, not an advance reading copy or a review copy. Near the end of the book I read the following: [Character in book] pushed for a marker on the sight of [historical character’s] house..

Yes, “sight.” It’s not a misprint or a typo. I make plenty of those and have no room to talk about other people’s. But where was the editor when this blatant error made it into print?

I know it’s obsessive/compulsive, but the mistake rather spoiled the book for me.

Heat by Mike Lupica and Alabama Moon by Watt Key

Michael Arroyo, age twelve, and Moon Blake, age ten, both have the same problem. Each of their fathers has died and left them without a parent to take care of them. And neither of them wants to go into foster care. Mike’s brother, Carlos, calls government people “Official Persons” and distrusts and avoids them. He and Mike manage, with the help of a friend, to hide their father’s death from NYC Officialdom and live on their own, sort of successfully. Moon Blake, down in the backwoods of Alabama, also distrusts the government and tries to hide the death of his father.

Heat by Mike Lupica and Alabama Moon by Watt Key do share a similar plot device: a young boy who has reasons to distrust the representatives of the state must figure out how to continue life on his own terms while navigating the adult world and avoiding both the well-meaning and the badly-intentioned interference of grown-ups. Finally, both boys must decide whom to trust and how much trust they can afford and how much help they need.

But there are some differences in the two books. Heat is set in New York City, and Michael’s father was a good man who died of a heart attack, unexpectedly leaving his boys fatherless. Michael does have his brother, Carlos, to take care of him, but Carlos is a minor, too, almost eighteen. The two boys are from Cuba, hence their lack of turst in the government, and they try to live in New York’s inner city on their own. But the adult world won’t leave them alone, and Michael finds out that even Little League baseball is played by rules that adults make and that kids need help to play the game. Michael know how to play baseball, but he doesn’t know how to take care of himself in New York City and neither does Carlos, really.

Moon of Alabama Moon, on the other hand, is much more prepared to take care of himself in some ways. His father is a survivalist, a believer in government conspiracies and in coming world war, and he’s taught Moon how to take care of himself in the woods. Moon knows how to hunt and fish, and build a shelter, and survive in the wilderness. He’s doesn’t determined to live free, just as he and his father did, but he doesn’t know what to do about all the people who won’t allow him to be on his own. And he doesn’t know how to cope with his own loneliness and isolation. Moon makes some friends after his father’s death, but having friends means living by society’s rules. Moon’s not so good at following rules made by other people.

Heat would be great book to recommend to baseball fans or kids who are interested in immigration issues or kids who read sports fiction in general. There’s lots of baseball description, but I found it fascinating rather than dry and technical. Michael’s difficult life and his father’s death are handled with sympathy, but nothing’s too dark or gruesome. Michael has friends and an interest in life (baseball) to keep him going. Even when Michael’s brother, Carlos, flirts with a life of crime in order to support himself and Michael, nothing too grim or dangerous happens. Carlos gets off with a warning, and the boys end up surrounded by love and support from friends.

Moon, the character, ends up OK, but the book Alabama Moon is much darker and more frightening than Heat. I liked Alabama Moon very much, but I wouldn’t recommend it for middle grade (3rd-6th) readers. It does feature a ten year old protagonist, but the subject matter and tone of the novel would be more appropriate for young adult and even adult readers. Moon’s father is mentally disturbed, and Moon must come to terms with the rest of the world after living his first ten years in isolation with only his eccentric father to teach him. The book also has a villain, a redneck Alabama constable who is just as mentally unbalanced as Moon’s father was. Alabama Moon is a dark and violent story in spite of its happy ending, and it raises questions that would be difficult to answer at the level of ten, eleven, or even twelve year old child. I know that Karate Kid (age 9) and even Brown Bear Daughter (age 12 today) would have trouble understanding why the father in the story was so distrustful and even mean to his own son and why the constable is so violently determined to capture Moon.

So, here are two great books with similar themes, one appropriate for boys (and girls) up to age twelve or thirteen, and the other for mature young adults who are beginning to understand that parents aren’t perfect and that some have serious problems. I was quite impressed with both books, and I’ll be looking for more from each of these talented authors. Both of these books were nominated for the Cybil Award for Middle Grade Fiction.

Clementine by Sara Pennypacker

Okay, fine. Clementine has had “not so good of a week.” The week starts with a visit to the principal’s office and ends with an almost disastrous going away party. In between, Clementine, although she almost always means well, manages to frustrate her best friend, her friend’s mom, her teacher, the principal, the principal’s secretary, and even her own mom. And she’s reminded to “pay attention” about a hundred times, give or take a few.

Clementine reminds me, of course, of Ramona Quimby. The book itself is a bit easier to read and a bit shorter than the Ramona books. (The book is written on about a second or third grade reading level, and it would make a great read aloud for classes at those grade levels.) But Clementine is definitely spunky just like Ramona. The picture of the little redheaded fireball upside down on the cover of the book reminds me of my little seven year old Bee. Any day now, Clementine should be joining the ranks of Jen’s Cool Girls from Children’s Literature, if she hasn’t already.

Clementine is not so good at journal writing and paying attention, better at math. She’s great at helping her comedian dad fight off the pigeons that mess up the front of their apartment building each day. She’s also a pretty good artist, but not so good at sitting still. In short, Clementine is a typical, wiggly, impetuous, bull-in-a-china-closet, little girl. She gets into lots of trouble, tries to help, and worries that maybe her parents will get tired of all her messes.

I think girls and boys will love reading about Clementine. Bee-girl, age seven, has started the book, and she’s enjoying it. Clementine is one of the best of the books nominated for the Cybil Award for Middle Grade Fiction.

Other blogger reviews of Clementine:

park(dale) life: “Okay, this book? The one that’s written for kids, like, less than a quarter of my age? It TOTALLY RULES.”

The Planet Esme: “I love these drawings, they are so timeless. Can they give a Caldecott for a chapter book?”

Fuse #8 Production: “Engaging, mischevious, never ever dull, and topped off by illustrations by Marla Frazee, Pennypacker’s early chapter book, Clementine, is everything you could hope for in a story for kids. Finally, a character that can challenge Ramona Quimby for her throne.”

Okay, fine. I think you could say we liked this book —a lot. And Amazon indicates that there’s a sequel, The Talented Clementine, coming out in April, 2007. Yes!

Weedflower by Cynthia Kadohata and Blue by Joyce Moyer Hostetter


Two books set during World War War II: One takes place in California and Arizona; the other book is set on the other side of the country in North Carolina. Sumiko is twelve years old and lives with her aunt and uncle and cousins on a flower farm; Anna Fay is thirteen and has become “the man of the house” since her daddy’s gone to fight in the war. Both girls are typical older children, responsible, obligated to grow up fast and take care of younger brothers and sisters. Both girls use gardening as a way to work through their problems and challenges. And each must face her own war, her own imprisonment, and her own fight against ignorance and prejudice.

Sumiko, heroine of Weedflower, is a Japanese-American girl; her parents are dead, and she faces prejudice against “orientals” from the beginning of the story when she is dis-invited to a birthday party for a girl in her class. The challenges only get worse after the Japanese bomb Pearl Harbor and all the residents of Japanese descent on the West Coast are gathered and sent to internment camps. Sumiko, her aunt, her two older cousins, and her little brother are sent to Poston in Arizona. There Sumiko must learn to survive and even overcome the heat, the dust, the hostility of neighbors, and even the threat of succumbing to “the ultimate boredom.” The latter is her grandfather’s term for the temptation to give up, to lose your dreams, to surrender hope, a temptation that Sumiko must face and defeat if she is to win her war.

Anna Fay, the main character in Blue has a battle to fight, too. A polio epidemic has invaded western North Carolina in 1944, and Anna Fay’s little brother Bobby falls victim to the dread disease. Later in the story, Anna Fay herself must battle polio, even as she worries about her daddy fighting Hitler in Europe and about whether her family will ever be together again. Anna Fay is trapped in the polio hospital just as Sumiko is trapped in the internment camp, and Anna Fay faces boredom and prejudice, too. The discrimination comes when Anna Fay becomes friends with a “colored girl” who also has polio, but the two girls can’t convince anyone that they should be allowed to share a hospital ward as well as a friendship.

I thought both of these books were excellently well-written. Blue goes for the tear-jerker, drama reaction; the writing in Weedflower is a little more restrained. Sumiko is the stereotypical Japanese, determined to keep her emotions under control and her tears hidden; Anna Fay is comforted by her friend’s word picture of a God who saves each person’s tears in a bottle on a heavenly window-sill. (Anna Fay’s bottle is blue.) Each girl compares herself to a flower: Sumiko is a weedflower, a flower of the field that is both beautiful and resilient; Anna Fay is sometimes as fragile as a mimosa blossom and other times as tough as wisteria.

These books would work well, paired, in a unit study on World War II to give students a good picture of different aspects of the time period. Other World War II books for girls:

Denenberg, Barry. Early Sunday Morning: The Pearl Harbor Diary of Amber Billows, Hawaii, 1941.
Denenberg, Barry. One Eye Laughing, The Other Weeping: The Diary of Julie Weiss, Vienna, Austria to New York, 1938.
Greene, Betty. Summer of my German Soldier.
Osborne, Mary Pope. My Secret War: The World War II Diary of Madeline Beck, Long Island, New York, 1941.
Rinaldi, Ann. Keep Smiling Through.

Weedflower and Blue also have another thing in common; both books are nominated for the Cybil Award for Middle Grade Fiction.

The Clue of the Linoleum Lederhosen by M.T. Anderson

M. T. ANDERSON is seven monkeys, six typewriters, and a Speak & Spell. It took them ten years to write The Clue of the Linoleum Lederhosen. Their previous books include Adf2yga^vvvv, Wpolw0ox.S Ppr2dgn shr Elssf, and The Riverside Edition of the Complete Works of William Shakespeare. Adf2yga^vvvv was a National Book Award finalist. The M. T. Anderson Monkey Collective is located outside Boston. Its hobbies include flash cards, hopping, and grooming for lice. It divides its time between the parallel bars and the banana trough.

Uh, yeah. I get the joke. I think I get the joke of The Clue of the Linoleum Lederhosen. Some of it was very funny. But did we have to discuss snot for so long, in so much detail? I got my fill, so to speak, of nasal excretions after about one sentence of descriptive prose, but it went on and on and on. It reminded me of a bunch of college guys who tell a gross joke, and then another, and another, and all the girls in the room are looking at each other and shaking their collective heads. (Now that’s an interesting word picture, collective shaking heads!)

The Clue of the Linoleum Lederhosen (I’m going to call it, affectionately, Lederhosen for short) is a pastiche of all those series you read when you were a kid back in the fifties and the sixties, if you were a kid back in the fifties and the sixties: Nancy Drew, the Hardy Boys, Danny Dunn, the Bobbsey Twins, cowboy series that I never read, stuff like that. Did you know that my librarian wouldn’t buy any of those series books because she said they weren’t up to the library’s standards? This was at the public library, mind you, not even the school library. I wonder what Ms. Karen, who in spite of her disdain for Nancy Drew and Trixie Belden, really was a great librarian, would think of Lederhosen? Actually, I shudder to think.

Because I tend to pick up the style of the last book I read, I’m now doing a poor imitation of the style of Mr. Anderson (and the monkeys) in Lederhosen. He does tend to get lost, wandering down various rabbit trails, before getting to the point of the chapter. And what was the point, you ask? Well, I meant to say that Lederhosen makes fun of our childhood heroes in a good-natured, but sometimes snotty, way, and I wonder if children of the twentieth-first century who haven’t read Hardy Boys or other series of bygone days, will get the joke? As I type this review, Karate Kid, who has read Hardy Boys, is reading Lederhosen. I promise to ask him later what he thinks. He’s not laughing out loud.

To be continued . . .

After a couple of chapters I asked Karate Kid what he thought of the book. He said it wasn’t as good as Hardy Boys, so I think he gets the connection but not the joke. However, he’s still reading.

I’ll update you again when he’s finished, or you could just pick up a copy at the library for yourself. I can promise you that it’s . . . different. Lederhosen is one of the many odd books nominated for the Cybil Award for Middle Grade Fiction. Ummm, I mean “good books.” M.T. Anderson is the same author who also won a National Book Award this year for his historical fiction title, The Astonishing Life of Octavian Nothing, Traitor to the Nation, Volume One: The Pox Party. I haven’t read it yet, but I gather it’s a much different book from Lederhosen. A prolific and versatile guy, Mr. Anderson, or maybe the monkeys . . . ?

Happy Kid by Gail Gauthier

Review by Brown Bear Daughter, age 11, almost 12:

I really enjoyed this book. It was absolutely HILARIOUS. It had a couple of places in the book where…oh…let me tell you all I liked about if before I tell you what I didn’t.

First off, as I said before, it was the most hilarious book I’ve read lately. Also, it shows the exact emotions that any real kid would show in the situations that the main character finds himself in. I just thought to myself, “This author (Gail Gauthier) must really understand kids.”

It was easy to imagine what I would do if I was accused of bringing a weapon to school, (though I’m homeschooled, of course) which does happen to Kyle, the narrator. Okay, now I’ll give a small summary of the first couple of chapters:

Kyle hears his mother yell for him to come open his “back to school present.” So after his sister opens hers, he unwraps Happy Kid: A Young Person’s Guide to Satisfying Relationships and a Happy and Meaning-Filled Life! After being reminded to thank his mother for the gift, Kyle says, “Thank you for believing I’m such a reject I need a book on how to be happy. I really appreciate the thought.” I couldn’t help but laugh at this because it sounds like something I would say. Is that good or bad? Anyhow, Kyle’s mother thinks that he looks at everything negatively…so when she saw the book that “just screamed (Kyle’s) name,” she bought it immediately.

There were a few gross parts which I will not mention, and a bit of bad language also, but altogether I consider it a very interesting and well-written book. I had sooo much fun reading it!

Happy Kid is another good book nominated for the Cybil Award for Middle Grade Fiction.

Framed by Frank Cottrell Boyce

Maybe Tom was right. Maybe the paintings weren’t just paintings. Manod had changed a lot since the paintings arrived. Maybe the paintings were like mutagen, changing the town. Maybe we were living in Ninja Manod!!

So there you have it. Framed is a kid caper comedy about Fine Art and Mutant Ninja Turtles. And small town life. And slate mines. And insurance fraud. And family unity.


Mr. Boyce says “Framed was inspired by a news story he’d read in an old scrapbook. During the Second World War, a collection of valuable paintings from the National Gallery was hidden in a slate mine for safekeeping. He couldn’t resist imagining how all that great art might have affected the people who lived near the mine.” Frank Cottrell Boyce is a screenwriter, and I could see that influence in the book. I kept thinking this book would make a good movie. It turns out that Boyce’s first book, Millions, was a movie. I’ve never seen it, but I might look it up.

At any rate, Framed is a funny story. The setting, the small town of Manod, Wales, sort of reminds me of Petticoat Junction with all the requisite characters, including a butcher who’s afraid of liver and a pair of sisters who share the driving since “Miss Edna can see but she can’t drive,” and “Miss Elsa can drive but she can’t see.” Then there’s Daft Tom who collects Mutant Ninja Turtle gear: T-shirts, videos, collectors’ cards, lunch boxes, models of the four turtles, and a full-size strap-on Turtle shell. Sheep run wild, but the distinguishing feature of Manod is its greyness. It’s all grey because it’s perched on the side of Manod Mountain, this great big mountain covered with slate, grey slate. Dylan, the dim-witted but loveable hero of our story, is rather fond of Manod, even if he is the only boy who lives there and consequently has to wait ten years or so for his baby brother Max to grow up before he can play a decent game of soccer.

So, Framed has Setting and Characters and Plot and Humor. What else does it need? Throw in a few mutant turtles and a lot of cars and a few masterpieces by Michaelanglo and Monet, and you’ve got an entertaining mix. The British/kid slang is a bit thick. If you’re NOT British, and you know the meaning of all the following terms, you’re legend. Get yourself a packet of crisps.

1. legend, as in “Ma made a legend breakfast.”

2. pillock

3. hectic, as in “That’d be hectic.”

4. nuddy

5. get nicked

6. a kick-around

7. packet of crisps

8. beastier, as in “DDS is even beastier.”

9. ticking over

10. trunk sale

Framed is one of the many good books nominated for the Cybil Award for Middle Grade Fiction.

Fly By Night by Frances Hardinge

“When words take flight, heroes are born.”

“Imagine a world in which all books have been BANNED.”

There you have the taglines, the story in a nutshell. Fly By Night is all about words and books and freedom of speech and wild heroics. It’s also full of plot twists, memorable characters, fantastical adventures, spies and secrets. Lots of spies and secrets.

In her first novel, Frances Hardinge drops her readers into The Fractured Realm, home of Mosca Mye and her homicidal goose, Saracen. The fractures are real; Mosca compares her country’s politics to a broken honey pot in which the pieces are held together by a fragile bond of honey that will come spilling out whenever any pressure might come to bear. The politics and religious controversies are a bit complicated, and it takes a dedicated reader to get far enough into the book to get it all straight. I found the story fascinating, and so it wasn’t hard for me to fit all the clues together to get a picture of a fantasy land where several religious/political groups are locked in a stasis of power. Any number of events could upset the delicate balance of political power in the kingdom; even the actions of a girl from a small town on the frontier of the country could influence the course of history.

This book reminded me of the Westmark books of Loyd Alexander; it made Betsy at A Fuse #8 Production think of Leon Garfield’s zany Victorian crooks and characters. If you want more information, read her review from last February. She’s a real fan(atic) about the book.

Once again, this book is one of the many good books nominated for the Cybil Award for Middle Grade Fiction.

Yellow Star by Jennifer Roy

This afternoon Brown Bear Daughter inhaled this story of a little Jewish girl who survived life during World War II in the Lodz ghetto, and I read it myself in one sitting a few days ago. It’s not a long read, 227 pages, and the prose text is arranged in an almost poetic form such that each page only has about a hundred words. So it doesn’t take long to read, but it does pack an emotional punch.

Ms. Roy wrote the book based on the true story of her Aunt Sylvia Perlmutter, who was one of only twelve children who survived the Lodz ghetto in Poland. If you read the introduction or know anything about the Holocaust, you know from the beginning that there are difficult things coming in this book. I hesitated to give it to my eleven year old daughter because I didn’t know how it would affect her emotionally. However, she read it, said it was a good book, and didn’t seem too disturbed. I was the one who mourned as I read for all those children who didn’t survive —and even for those who did.

The Jewish refrain in relation to the Holocaust is, “Never forget!” However, we’re always only one generation away from forgetting what horrors man can perpetrate upon other men. I don’t know what at what age a child is old enough to learn about the horrors of the Holocaust, but I agree that we must not forget that “civilized” man is only one step away from barbarous acts of cruelty. And at some point even our children need to know that sin and evil are real.

They also need hope, and Jennifer Roy manages to tell a story that is filled with tragedy and yet leaves the reader with hope. As the story begins in the fall of 1939, little Sylvia is four and a half years old. On January 20, 1945, the day after she and her family are liberated from the ghetto, Sylvia celebrates her tenth birthday. By the time she is ten, Sylvia has seen and experienced things that most of us have, thankfully, only read about. She goes on to live a full life, marriage, a son, grandchildren. For over fifty years she doesn’t talk about her experiences during World War II. Finally, she tells her niece in a series of telephone interviews what she remembers of what happened to her and her family during the Holocaust.

It’s a story worth reading and remembering.

Again, this book is one of the many good books nominated for the Cybil Award for Middle Grade Fiction.

The Year of the Dog by Grace Lin

“My favorite books when I was younger were by Carolyn Haywood– B Is for Betsy and Eddie and His Big Deals. The stories took place in school, in Betsy’s home, and in Eddie’s neighborhood. They had families and ate dinner and waited for the bus. . . When I read those books, it was as if I was wrapped in a warm hug. I saw all the things that I loved and lived— my neighborhood, my friends, and my school. The only thing I didn’t see was me.” —Author Grace Lin

So Grace Lin has written the Chinese American equivalent of B Is for Betsy. Except of course, no two authors are alike, and no good book is simply a copy of another with different characters. The Year of the Dog is a good book, in a comforting, Betsy-ish sort of way. Grace, however, instead of going Christmas caroling on Christmas morning, celebrates Chinese New Year with her family and extended family and lots and lots of food. The story begins with the new year, The Year of the Dog, and ends with another New Year’s celebration, beginning The Year of the Pig. The book is cozy and each story is somewhat self-contained, with little stories about Grace’s parents and grandparents interspersed throughout. The thread that ties all the stories together is Grace’s quest, during The Year of the Dog, to find out who she is and who she wants to become. The Year of the Dog is supposed to be good for thinking about that sort of thing.

It’s the stories themselves that are fun and revealing of Taiwanese-American culture. First of all, Grace can’t decide if she’s Taiwanese-Amercan or Chinese-American. The real Grace Lin says that this distinction was something that bothered her as a child, and I can see how it would be a puzzlement. The cultural differences in growing up Chinese in America are woven through the stories, but not intrusively so. What we’re left with is a year in the life of a little girl who is enjoying her school, her friends, and her family.

The reading level is fairly simple, so I’ve got Betsy-Bee (age 7) reading it now. Betsy-Bee’s favorite book is, yes, B Is For Betsy.

Two more things to note about this book: The cover looks better in reality than the Amazon-derived picture makes it look, and this book is one of the many good books nominated for the Cybil Award for Middle Grade Fiction.