You can purchase The Screwtape Letters (audiobook dramatized performance)here or here. I’ve definitely got this one on my list for someone who shall remain nameless. (If you’re on my giving list, and you want it, you’d better get your request in soon. Otherwise, I may give it to myself!)

We’ve been listening to lots of audiobooks around here since Z-baby (age eight) can’t read at anywhere near the level she can understand. A few of her favorites, played, repeated and almost memorized, have been:
The Complete Chronicles of Narnia, Focus on the Family Radio Theater production.
Because of Winn-Dixie by Kate DiCamillo, narrated by Cherry Jones. Read Aloud Thursday interview with Z-Baby.
Betsy-Tacy by Maud Hart Lovelace, narrated by Sutton Foster. Read Aloud Thursday Interview with Z-Baby.
From the MIxed-up FIles of Mrs. Basil M. Frankweiler by E.L. Konigsburg. Narrated by Jan Miner. Read Aloud Thursday Interview with Z-Baby and Betsy-Bee.
Anne of Green Gables by L.M. Montgomery. Focus on the Family Radio Theater.
Little Women by Louisa May Alcott. Focus on the Family Radio Theater.
The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett. Focus on the Family Radio Theater.

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Read Aloud Thursday: Because of Winn-Dixie by Kate DiCamillo

Nov19

Z-Baby has been listening to the audiobook CD version of Kate DiCamillo’s award-winning book about India Opal Buloni, her smiling dog, and her preacher daddy all week long. The narration by Cherry Jones is great, with a thick Southern accent and different voices for all the characters.

Me: What made you laugh in this book? Why?

Z-baby: Well, what was kind of funny was that her dad called her by her middle name, Opal, which was her dad’s mom’s name. And it’s the same with me. I have my dad’s mom’s name for a middle name. And she called the Dewberry boys “bald-headed babies,” and that was kind of funny.

Me: Why do you think Opal wanted to know ten things about her mother? Can you tell what her mother is like from the ten things her father describes to her? Do you think that ten things can really describe a whole person?

Z-baby: Not really. If Daddy told me things about you and I had never seen you, I probably wouldn’t really know what you were like. But she probably wanted to know because most people want to know about their own mom.

Me: What else might Opal want to know about her mother? What else would you like to know?

Z-baby: She would want to know where her mom is and why did she go away. I would, too. Also, what color were her eyes? And was she a girly-girl or a tomboy? I would want to know a lot of things.

Me: Do you think you’d like to eat a Littmus Lozenge? Why or why not?

Z-baby: I don’t know. Probably, because I’d like to see what they mean by it makes them feel sad.

Me: Opal believes that life is like a Littmus Lozenge – that it’s sweet and sad all mixed up together and hard to separate out. Do you agree? Why or why not?

Z-baby: No, I don’t believe that. Life isn’t always sweet, and life isn’t always sad. And I’ve never experienced sweet and sad mixed together.

Me: At the end of the story, Opal seems to accept that her mother is not coming back. Why is this an important part of the story? What is something difficult in your life that you’ve had to accept?

Z-baby: A lot of times when somebody doesn’t have somebody and then they want that person, in the story they do get the person back. But it’s important that you listen and know that Opal’s mom isn’t coming back. Sometimes I ask my brothers or sisters to please do something for me, but they don’t. And I just have to accept that they’re not going to do it.

Me; Who was your favorite of Opal’s friends?

Z-baby: Probably Sweetie Pie Thomas. She’s five years old, and she invites Opal to her sixth birthday party. When Opal comes out of the pet store, she sees Sweetie Pie, and they talk about things.

Me: What kind of people do you think would enjoy this story?

Z-baby: The reason I listen to my audiotapes over and over again is that sometimes there’s something in it that I don’t understand the first time. But then when I listen again, I do understand. And people who like to listen to stories over and over would like this story because there’s always more interesting stuff there to hear.

Scholastic Discussion Questions for Because of Winn-Dixie.
More educational resources for Because of Winn-Dixie.
Because of Winn-Dixie Teacher’s Guide.

Bull Rider by Suzanne Morgan Williams

Nov13

Eight seconds of danger . . . a lifetime of honor.

Yeah, well, maybe. Bull-riding is not so much a sport as it is a deliberate courting of death or serious injury. The question is not whether you’ll get thrown off the bull, but when and how hard. And will you be able to scramble up and scale the fence before the bull turns around and tramples you?

Cam O’Mara is a member of a bull-riding family. His grandfather was a bull riding champion. His older brother, Ben, was a bull rider, too. Cam is more interested in skate-boarding, a sport with its own skills and dangers. However, when Ben returns from Iraq with TBI (traumatic brain injury) and confined to a wheelchair, Cam sees only one way to impress Ben and get him to work at his own recovery. Cam makes a bet with Ben: if Cam can ride Ugly, the fiercest, most dangerous bull on the circuit, then Ben will do whatever it takes to recover from his war injuries.

I really thought this book was both well-written and well-plotted. The details about the sports of skate-boarding and bull-riding felt right to me, although I probably wouldn’t know if they weren’t. Cam and Ben and their parents and Grandpa Roy all are full, well-rounded characters, and I wanted to know what would happen to them, how they would cope with the challenges posed by Ben’s injury. Author Suzanne Morgan Williams doesn’t give easy answers; Ben doesn’t miraculously recover to full health just because Cam tries to ride an angry bull. But there is hope and the support of family and friends. I recommend this book and the four others that I’ve read, published this year, about dealing with the stress of having a family member in or returning from Iraq or Afghanistan.

Do you have any other suggestions for this list?

Other 2009 fiction books for children about the family of service members and the aftermath of war:

Peace, Locomotion by Jacqueline Woodson.
Heart of a Shepherd by Roseanne Parry.
Operation Yes by Sara Lewis Holmes.
Scat by Carl Hiaassen.

Amazon Affiliate. If you click on a book cover here to go to Amazon and buy something, I receive a very small percentage of the purchase price.
One or more of these books is also nominated for a Cybil Award, but the views expressed here are strictly my own.

A Recipe 4 Robbery by Marybeth Kelsey

Nov12

Nothing deep. No burning political questions. No kids who are out to save the planet. No serious relationship issues. No murder and mayhem. A Recipe 4 Robbery is just a plain vanilla kids’ mystery about a jewel robbery. This mystery is just right for middle school readers who still don’t want to deal with the violence and seriousness of YA and adult mysteries, qualities which are working their way down into children’s mysteries, too. One of my daughters, even when she was junior high age, wouldn’t read mysteries at all because she said they frightened her. A Recipe 4 Robbery would have been something she could enjoy without being scared.

It all takes place at The Bloomsbury Cucumber Festival where Lindy is doing her best to avoid all vegetables, especially any concoction cooked up by Mrs. Unger, aka Granny Goose. Unfortunately, Lindy’s mom helps her plate to a heaping helping of Granny’s cucumber casserole. Fortunately, Lindy finds a ruby necklace hiding under the cukes and goop. Unfortunately, Lindy and her friends know that if they turn in the necklace to the police, Granny Goose’s goose will be cooked, and she’ll probably be arrested for the theft that happened a few days before at the Grimstone Estate. Besides, there’s a reward for the intrepid crime busters who find the perpetrators of the robbery.

So, Lindy, her best friend, Margaret, and saxophonist Gus Kinnard team up to find the crooks. Lindy wants to get enough reward money to go to band camp this summer. Gus wants to show off his skills gained as a member of the computer-based Not-So-Clueless Crime Buster Club (NSCCB). And Margaret just wants to be a part of the band –and vindicate Granny Goose, of course. As I said, it’s good clean fun.

Does anyone remember the Alfred Hitchcock 3 Investigators series? This book reminded me of those books: simple plot, quirky suspects, and kids running around having fun.

Author Marybeth Kelsey’s website.

Return to Sender by Julia Alvarez

Nov12

As soon as I realized that this middle grade fiction book was about illegal immigrants from Mexico and particularly about the plight of children brought to the U.S. by their parents, I was looking for a political bias or for an author with an axe to grind. And I found it. This story was unabashedly sympathetic to the difficulties and even horrors experienced by these economic immigrants, and it had a message. From the author’s letter to readers at the end of the book:

“Many farmers from Mexico and Central America are forced to come north to work because they can no longer earn a living from farming. They make the dangerous border crossing with smugglers called coyotes, who charge them a lot of money and often take advantage. . . . National troops are being sent down to patrol the border. We are treating these neighbor countries and migrant helpers as if they were our worst enemies.”

I could argue with some of what Ms. Alvarez says. (Forced? We shouldn’t patrol our own border? Maybe some of them are our worst enemies?) However, I couldn’t help finding my own sympathies engaged with the immigrants in the story who are, I believe, emblematic of most of the immigrants who do come to the U.S. Mari and her family come to North Carolina, then to Vermont, in search of simple things: work, a place to live, and opportunity. Mari’s father, uncle, and cousin are hard workers, content with low pay and long hours and a difficult job on a dairy farm. Mari herself is an intelligent, obedient child who just wants to do well in school and take care of her little sisters in the absence of her mother.

Because Return to Sender is a novel, not an essay or a working paper, Ms. Alvarez only has to tell a good story and present more than one aspect of the issue. She fulfills that task. I didn’t feel as if I were being preached at or tricked into believing that all immigrants should be allowed free rein in the U.S. even though the author rather obviously believes something of the sort. The book is written partly from the point of view of Mari, who quickly becomes a sympathetic character, and partly from the viewpoint of Tyler, the eleven year old son of the farmer for whom Mari’s family, the Cruzes, work. Tyler’s feelings and actions are conflicted. He doesn’t understand why his parents are willing to break the law in hiring illegal immigrants even while they tell him that he must obey the laws and rules to be a good citizen. He doesn’t know what to do about his sympathy for Mari’s family and his respect for the law of the land. Tyler even does something he knows is wrong while justifying it to himself with excuses, unintentionally mirroring his parents’ actions. Tyler ultimately falls on the side of compassion and friendship for Mari and her family but not without some bumps along the way.

Tyler, his parents, Tyler’s grandmother who also befriends the Cruz family, the elderly anti-immigration Mr. Rossetti, even Mari and her family, none of them ever resolve the underlying questions that the novel raises. What do we, the United States, do about the thousands of illegal immigrants who cross the border every year? Can we find a way to accommodate them, allow them to work here, and still maintain some kind of security that keeps criminals and terrorists out? Are these immigrants an asset to our country and our work force that should be welcomed or a drain on our resources that should be shunned and criminalized? What about the children who come the United States with their parents or who are born in this country to parents who are here illegally? How can we be compassionate as a people and still maintain the rule of law? What should individuals who are confronted with these situations do? Is it morally wrong, even if it is illegal, to hire people who want to work and whose work you need to keep your business or farm going? Is it morally wrong for people to cross a border to find work? Would you do the same thing if your family were living in poverty with no other way out?

Ms. Alvarez doesn’t really have answers for those questions. I don’t either. But we had better start talking about them seriously and effectively. This novel might be a good start to that conversation for middle school children, particularly if a teacher or other adult can bring out all the nuances and conflicting opinions on this issue. Yes, the book is biased in favor of the open immigration, and it repeated the obligatory, but annoying, slogan of the environmentalists: “we are citizens of the world, and you can save the planet.” Still, the characters and the plot are engaging, and the book could provoke a good, healthy discussion.

Grief, Guilt, and Recovery in Four Cybils’ Middle Grade Fiction Books

Nov11

The Last Invisible Boy by Evan Kuhlman.

Gone From These Woods by Donna Bailey Seagraves.

Love, Aubrey by Suzanne LaFleur.

The Girl Who Threw Butterflies by MIck Cochrane.

Disclaimer: There are some spoilers in these reviews. I couldn’t discuss the books otherwise. If you just want to know the general subject, see the title of this post and go read one or all of them. The Last Invisible Boy uses metaphor and imagination to deal with the grieving process in a creative way. Love, Aubrey is about a girl whose father and little sister have died in an accident and whose mother is so immersed in her own grief that she neglects Aubrey. In The Girl Who Threw Butterflies Molly deals with grief by using baseball as both therapy and metaphor. And Gone From These Woods is about a hunting accident. Read on only if you want to know more.

Betsy-Bee and I already discussed Love, Aubrey by Suzanne LaFleur in this post a couple of weeks ago. I reviewed The Girl Who Threw Butterflies, which I loved, here. I don’t have much to add, except that Aubrey and Molly seem much more resilient than the boys in the other two books featured here.

In The Last Invisible Boy twelve year old Finn Garrett is convinced that he is slowly fading into invisibility after his father’s sudden death caused by a heart attack. Everyone else in the book is also convinced that something is wrong with Finn since his hair has faded to white and his skin has become “as pale as a ghost’s.” I never quite understood what it was that was really happening to Finn, but I decided to just go with it, willing suspension and all that jazz. Obviously, Finn feels like “the Bleached-Out Nearly Invisible Boy,” so metaphor or fantasy or reality, it’s where Finn is, anyway.

And where he continues to be for almost 230 pages. The book is h-e-a-v-y, even though Finn gives the reader permission to take a break and go play outside. Finn has a lot of feelings to work through, and his grief and anger and guilt feel real. As bibliotherapy, the book might work, or might be such a downer that the child reading it would go into a major depression. I don’t know. As a picture of what it feels like to lose a parent and how grief is a process that takes time and energy and even decisions to feel better eventually, the book would be of interest to a certain type of psychoanalytic or morbidly curious child. That’s not a criticism, by the way; I have more than one “mordibly curious” child, and I’m a bit that way myself. I just don’t know if I could read this one, or if I would recommend reading it, when grief is fresh and personal.

Gone From These Woods is a more straightforward narrative about a boy, eleven year old Daniel Sartain, who accidentally shoots his favorite uncle and surrogate father, Clay, while the two are hunting. The accident is fatal, and Daniel feels like a monster. The book is not anti-hunting, although it seems to me as if it might a good book to give to a young man who’s going hunting for the first or the fortieth time to remind him to be careful. Daniel has to deal with not only grief, but also an overwhelming sense of guilt, since the shot that killed his uncle came from Daniel’s shotgun, even if it did go off accidentally. In fact, Daniel is so depressed that he nearly commits suicide, but his uncle’s memory keeps him from completing that desperate act. It is doubly sad that Daniel is bereft of his uncle and also of almost all support in dealing with his uncle’s death, since Daniel’s father is an alcoholic with his own demons of guilt and abusiveness.

I found this book to be “morbidly fascinating,” too. I’ll try it out on Karate Kid, but he may have too sunny a disposition for this kind of reading.

What about you? Do you have any “grief books” that you find especially insightful and even enjoyable to read? I define a grief book as one in which someone dies at the beginning, and the main character spends the book dealing with his or her grief and healing. Any suggestions, either for adults or for children? Come to think of it this recent read by Elizabeth Berg was a “grief book,” and I enjoyed it, too.

Texas Tuesday: The Evolution of Calpurnia Tate by Jacqueline Kelly

Nov10

I read several reviews of this debut novel set in 1899 in Caldwell County, Texas, before I actually read the book itself, and I remember all of the reviews being quite positive. That’s sort of a dangerous thing to do because my expectations can be raised too high—which is exactly what I think happened with The Evolution of Calpurnia Tate. Maybe if I had discovered it serendipitously, I would have liked it better.

As it was, the book felt preachy to me and sort of generationally snobbish, if I can use that term. We are soooooo enlightened nowadays, whereas back in 1899 girls could only become housewives and no one believed in Darwinian evolution. I know there was a time, not so long ago, when well-bred young ladies didn’t study science, at least not in depth, and when nobody who wasn’t heathen read Darwin. But in this novel, I felt as if the messages that “girls can become anything they want” and that “science is vitally important” got in the way of the story. I wanted to understand Grandfather, Calpurnia’s mentor in scientific studies, better and see what motivated him. I wanted a little more humor in the story. I don’t know what I wanted, exactly, but I do think mostly I just expected too much. And dare I use the B-word? Some parts of the book just dragged with very little action and a whole lot of exposition.

The setting itself was just right, though. Ms. Kelly begins the novel by describing the Texas heat, and she even gives a few methods for beating the heat back in 1899. My father-in-law, who was a boy back in the early 1900’s in West Texas, said that they used to haul their bedding outside and sleep out under the shade trees. Of course, if a rain storm came up, everyone had to high-tail it back inside. Calpurnia’s observations as an amateur naturalist are sprinkled throughout the book, and these passages are some of the most fascinating reading in the book.

If only The Evolution of Calpurnia Tate could have soft-pedaled the evolutionist and feminist preaching a bit, I think it would have come closer to being a favorite for me.

Other Bloggers’ Opinions:
Melissa at Book Nut: “I also liked the way Kelly evoked a particular feel; the sense of anticipation, of change that must have accompanied the time period was quite palpable in the book. It’s a historical novel that actually felt like it. Callie was modern, sure, but she was struggling with her modernity against all the traditional values that were around her, and that dichotomy was intriguing.”
Welcome to My Tweendom: “Jacqueline Kelly has written a piece of historical fiction with depth, detail and characters that leap off the page. From the first telephone coming to town, to Callieâ€™s grandfatherâ€™s first time sitting in an automobile, to the kerosene powered ‘wind machine’, readers will find themselves immersed in the sweeping changes that were happening at the dawn of the 20th century.”
The Reading Zone: “Itâ€™s historical fiction that kids will actually enjoy! There are great little tidbits about the turn of the century- kids will love the idea that Coke was invented and wasnâ€™t always around.”
Never Jam Today: “I loved the Tate family. I loved watching the interplay between seven siblings–you don’t get that very often. I loved the generation-spanning relationship between Callie and her grandfather. These things breathed.”

I told you most everyone else loved it. Use my review to lower your own expectations, and then form your own opinion. (I really hope this one doesn’t win the Newbery.)

Amazon Affiliate. If you click on a book cover here to go to Amazon and buy something, I receive a very small percentage of the purchase price.
This book is also nominated for a Cybil Award, but the views expressed here are strictly my own.

Sunday Salon: Books Read in October, 2009

Nov8

Children of God by Mary Doria Russell. In this sequel to Russell’s The Sparrow, ex-priest Emilio Sandoz continues to work out his salvation in fear and trembling as the fate of two cultures hangs in the balance.

Gateway by Frederick Pohl. Not recommended. Although both of Mary Russell’s sci/fi books (see above) have explicit sexual content that may make some readers uncomfortable, I thought it was both tastefully written and integral to the plot and theme of the novels. I can’t say the same for Gateway. The sexual content in this book was annoying and gratuitous, and the ending was forced and trying too hard to be philosophical and psychological at the same time. I was already nine-tenths of the way through the book when I realized that I didn’t like the story or the characters, but by then I did want to know what happened. I wish I had skipped the whole thing. For what it’s worth this one is supposed to be a classic in the genre.

A Thread of Grace by Mary Dorie Russell. Not science fiction. Not as good as The Sparrow or Children of God. However, this novel set in Northern Italy during the last year of World War II does have its moments. Either I was distracted or the changes in place and point of view are confusing. I had trouble keeping straight the various story lines and characters and events. The book did give me a perspective on World War II and The Holocaust that I hadn’t known before: I learned that many Jews and other fugitives fled Southern France and other places as it began to look as if the Germans would lose the war. Many of these fugitives came to Italy because Southern Italy had already surrendered to the Allies. Unfortunately the Fascists and their German allies remained in power in Northern Italy for another year while the Allies made their way slowly and painfully up the Italian peninsula. The Italians formed partisan resistance groups, hid many of the Jews and other on the German blacklist, and endured the German occupation as best they could —hanging on to a thread of grace.

The Texan Scouts by Joseph Altsheler. Semicolon review here.

Unsigned Hype by Booker T. Mattison. Semicolon review here.

Luke and the Van Zandt County War by Judith MacBain Alter. Semicolon review here.

West Oversea by Lars Walker.

The Year of Pleasures by Elizabeth Berg. Semicolon review here.

Cybils Reading:

Also Known as Harper by Ann Haywood Leal. Semicolon review here.

Anything But Typical by Nora Raleigh Baskin. Semicolon review here.

The Year the Swallows Came Early by Kathryn Fitzmaurice. Semicolon review here.

The Beef Princess of Practical County by Michelle Houts. Semicolon review here.

When You Reach Me by Rebecca Stead. Semicolon review here.

Any Which Wall by Laurel Snyder. Semicolon review here.

Mudville by Kurtis Scaletta. Semicolon review here.

The Girl Who Threw Butterflies by Mick Cochrane. Semicolon review here.

Models Don’t Eat Chocolate Cookies by Erin Dionne. Semicolon review here.

Neil Armstrong is My Uncle and Other Lies Muscle Man McGinty Told Me by Nan Marino. Bratty kid learns to say “thank you” but not much else. I didn’t care for this one much, but others may sympathize with the main character who is admittedly sort of a lost, neglected child in a dysfunctional family.

Sahwira: An African Friendship by Carolyn Marsden.

Carolina Harmony by Marilyn Taylor McDowell.

Tropical Secrets: Holocaust Refugees in Cuba by Margarita Engle. Semicolon review here.

My Life in Pink and Green by Lisa Greenwald. Semicolon review here.

The Kind of Friends We Used To Be by Frances O’Roark Dowell. Semicolon review here.

All the Broken Pieces by An E. Burg. Semicolon review here.

The Brooklyn Nine by Alan Gratz.

The Mostly True Adventures of Homer P. Figg by Rodman Philbrick.

Peace, Locomotion by Jacqueline Woodson.

The Dunderheads by Paul Fleischman. Semicolon review here.

The Problem With the Puddles by Kate Feiffer. Semicolon review here.

Dessert First by Hallie Durand. Semicolon review here.

Love, Aubrey by Suzanne LaFleur. Betsy-Bee and I discuss Love, Aubrey.

Anna’s World by Wim Coleman and Pat Perrin. Semicolon review here.

Wanting Mor by Rukhsana Khan. Semicolon review here.

Callie’s Rules by Naomi Zucker. Semicolon review here.

Leaving the Bellweathers by Kristin Clark Venuti.

Lincoln and His Boys by Rosemary Wells. Semicolon review here.

Solving Zoe by Barbara Dee

Nov7

In Solving Zoe by Barbara Dee, Zoe attends a sort of experimental school for gifted kids. It’s the sort of place that C.S. Lewis parodies in The Silver Chair; the school in Solving Zoe is something like the school Eustace and Jill attend. The teachers and the administration pretend that everyone at the school is gifted and allowed to express their talents freely, but when Zoe finds that her only passion is for pizza, she soon discovers that being an ordinary kid with no special talents or passions is not acceptable at Hubbard Middle School.

Sadly enough it is when Zoe is suspended from school and when she is doing her afternoon job babysitting a friend’s pet lizards that she learns and grows and seems to come alive. Her school doesn’t inspire much learning on Zoe’s part, even if the students do call the teachers by their first names and even if Zoe’s math teacher, Anya, tells her that she is free to explore, to just enjoy the numbers. “Numbers are sort of like toys. Try to play with them a little. You know, relax and mess around. Don’t worry about being right or wrong. Just have some fun with them, okay?”

Then, on the same page, Anya tells Zoe that she’s about to fail math because she’s drawing numbers and coloring them instead of doing “actual work.” I can’t figure out whether the author is making fun of the hypocrisy and sheer silliness of a school like Zoe’s, or whether Zoe is really supposed to learn something in such a confusing environment. The most confusing part of the book for me was the part where Zoe is suspended for two weeks to think about her life and about whether or not she really wants to attend Hubbard School, and she decides that she really wants to go back! She spends the two weeks in the library, learning about codes and ciphers and at her lizard-feeding job, learning lots of valuable lessons in responsibility and observation skills. And she seems to enjoy her two weeks of freedom. However, she can’t envision any other alternative than to return to Hubbard, meekly, and try to fit in with her schoolmates who have falsely accused her of a relatively minor “crime” and then blown the nonexistent offense up out of proportion to get Zoe kicked out of school in the first place.

This post isn’t so much a review of the book, which is a decently written story about friendship and about finding your own areas of giftedness. It’s more a biased homeschooler questioning: why would anyone want spend five days a week being given mixed messages and inadequate teaching in a school like Hubbard? And pay money for it?

Jemma Hartman, Camper Extraordinaire by Brenda A. Ferber

Nov6

Girls of a certain age do this friend ranking thing. They have “best friends,” and they get jealous if their best friend spends too much time with another girl. They write notes that ask “am I still your BFF?” and try to figure out body language and sub-texts to conversations, and it’s all kind of sticky-icky sometimes. For most girls it’s all part of growing up.

I have noticed that boys don’t mess with this kind of relationship/friendship stuff. Karate Kid (age 12) has nineteen or twenty best buds; he plays with all of them, hangs out, generally just enjoys whoever is around. He always has. I can’t imagine him or any of his friends getting mad because Joe is spending more time with Pete than with with Karate Kid. KK would just figure that they were doing something, so he’d find someone else to hang with for a while. Or he would go do something with the group, including Joe and Pete. BFF is just not an issue with most boys.

Why this division in behavior occurs, whether it’s nature or nurture, I’ll leave to the psychologists and sociologists. At any rate, Jemma Hartman is a girl book about girls being girls at a girls’ summer camp. I thought it was well written, especially from a psychological point of view, and that the author, Brenda Ferber, captured the voice of an eleven year old girl in a friendship crisis quite well.

I gave the book to Betsy-Bee, who has experienced her own friendship crises, and she is enjoying it. She did say that she thought Jemma’s erstwhile BFF was “mean.” I think when BB finishes the book we’ll talk about the difference between actual “meanness” and changes that happen in friendships as girls become older and as they, possibly, grow apart. It’s a hard lesson to learn.

Semicolon

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