Archives

Rescuing Seneca Crane by Susan Runholt

With this book I got an education in all things Scottish, including haggis and kilts and castles, and a rousing mystery story in the tradition of my childhood heroines Nancy Drew and Trixie Belden. Not a bad deal at all.

Lucas and Kari (both girls, age about fifteen) are off to Scotland in this second book of a series. In the first book, which I haven’t read, genius Lucas and intuitive Kari solve the mystery of a forged painting, The Mystery of the Third Lucretia. In Rescuing Seneca Crane, the girls meet Seneca, a gifted concert pianist their age who’s wishing for a more normal life. Seneca, also a girl, is caught up in her own desire to be really good at what she does but also in her (stage) mother’s ambitions and dreams on her behalf. Then Seneca gets kidnapped, and the adventure begins.

As I indicated this book reminded me of the set of thirty plus Nancy Drew mysteries that used to sit on the shelf in my bedroom when I was twelve years old and of my beloved Trixie Belden mysteries that still amuse and entertain my children. There’s nothing terribly deep or disturbing or philosophically challenging about Rescuing Seneca Crane, just good clean fun. I liked it.

What’s your favorite children’s or young adult mystery series?

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.

Dani Noir by Nova Ben Suma

Film noir: genre of film, originally between 1940 and 1960, originating in the United States, employing heavy shadows and patterns of darkness, in which the protagonist dies, meets defeat, or achieves meaningless victory in the end.
A film/movie characterized by low-key lighting, a bleak urban setting, and corrupt, cynical or desperate characters.
Dark film, a term applied by French critics to a type of American film, usually in the detective or thriller genres, with low-key lighting and a somber mood.

Danielle, aka Dani, is a big fan of film noir. She’s especially fascinated with femme fatale actress Rita Hayworth. And it’s good for Dani that she has something like old movies to think about and a place like Little Art movie theater to go to, because the rest of her life . . . well, as Dani herself observes, “If this were a movie, I would’ve walked out by now. . . . Kick the slimy dregs of popcorn under the seat and head home.”

I loved reading this book. Dani is a self-centered, thirteen year old brat in some ways, but I didn’t get annoyed with her the same way I do with some bratty characters either in books or in real life. Maybe I felt as if Dani was trying to deal with the difficulties in her life in the only way she knew how. She’s not very kind to her dad, but then again he’s just recently left Dani’s mom and moved in with his girlfriend, Cheryl, in a house on the other side of the river. And Dani isn’t very patient with Austin, the guy who works at the movie theater, but he really is sort of annoying. Also Dani doesn’t obey her mom and she lies to her mom and she is determined to get her own way, but Dani’s motives are pure, or at least sort of pure: she’s trying to help a friend and right an injustice.

Unfortunately, just like in a noir movies, there are a lot of shadows and grey areas and lies and imperfection in Dani’s life. And in the end movies are just movies and reality is something else, something that keeps going and doesn’t end, not with a gunshot nor with a kiss. But movies do help Dani, as she says:

“Movies can do that: make people forget everything that’s bad about their lives, and bad about the world, even make them ignore the fact that they’ve already run out of popcorn. All that matters is what’s on-screen, that world in black-and-white or bright color, the story that’s got its hold on you. Movies really can make it better.

If this were a movie and the sun was going down on Shanosha, the femme fatale would have the last laugh, of course, walking off into the sunset with all her secrets.”

Great book. It made me want to go watch all of the films mentioned in the book: Notorious (with my favorite, Cary Grant), The Lady From Shanghai (Rita Hayworth), Casablanca, The Big Sleep (Lauren Bacall and Humphrey Bogart), and The Postman Always RIngs Twice (Lana Turner).

Dani Noir is a fairly typical middle grade divorce story, but it’s enlivened by the noir atmosphere and the references to film and film history and by Dani’s voice which is snarky and vulnerable at the same time, like a femme fatale. Read it if it sounds like your kind of story, and in the meantime I have two questions for you to answer in the comments.

1. What is your favorite film noir?

2. What is your favorite comfort movie? What do you watch when you want to forget about your problems and get lost in movie world?

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.

Girl Power!

Yes, a girl CAN become a naturalist! (The Evolution of Calpurnia Tate by Jacqueline Kelly/ Semicolon review here.)

Yes, a girl CAN sell newspapers and even become a newspaper reporter! (Newsgirl by Liza Ketchum)

Yes, girls CAN fly airplanes and perform daring rescues! (Born to Fly by Michael Ferrari)

Yes, girls CAN play baseball! (The Girl Who Threw Butterflies by Mich Cochrane/ Semicolon review here.)

Yes, girls CAN rock out on the guitar and even write songs. (The Kind of Friends We used to Be by Frances O’Roark Dowell/ Semicolon review here.)

Yes, a girl, even a slave girl, can be a spy! (Chains by Laurie Halse Anderson)

Have you got the message yet? Middle grade fiction authors believe in Girl Power! I read Born to Fly by Michael Ferrari and Newsgirl by LIza Ketchum back-to-back, and both of these middle grade fiction novels had strong female protagonists who were obviously meant to be role models for girls reading the books. In his Author’s Note at the end of Born to Fly, Mr. Ferrari says he wrote the WWII action adventure story especially for “a ten year old girl who wanted to fly a P-40 Warhawk and her brother said she couldn’t.” In the book eleven year old Bird not only gets to fly an airplane, she also rescues someone-who-shall-remain-nameless (because I don’t want to spoil the story) from assassination and saves her friend’s life, too. It’s an exciting story, mandatory for anyone, boy or girl, who’s interested in airplanes, flying, or World War II stories.

“Just ’cause I was a girl in 1941, don’t think I was some sissy. Shoot, I saw stuff that would’ve made that bully Farley Peck pee right through his pants. . . . Seeing me in my World War One pilot’s skullcap and goggles and my Huck Finn dungarees, you would’ve never guessed that someone with a neat name like Bird McGill was actually just an eleven-year-old girl. But I was. I worked the controls carefully, scanning the skies for bogies at twelve o’clock.”

Newsgirl by Liza Ketchum takes place a century earlier than Born to Fly, but it has the same theme: Girls Can! Amelia, her mother, and their friend Estelle have come all the way from the East Coast to San Francisco to start a new life. They have their personal effects, some dry goods to make ladies’ clothing to sell, and a small amount of money saved up to buy land on which to build themselves a house. When Amelia discovers that people will pay a whole dollar for a two month old newspaper from New York or New Jersey, she cuts her hair, dresses as a boy, and sets out to sell papers herself, even though San Francisco is a dangerous town for a girl all alone.

Newsgirl is all about the empowerment of girls and women, and about Amelia’s longing to know her father, someone her mother has never been willing to talk about or even acknowledge. Amelia’s desire for a father, or at least a father-figure, is resolved in the book, rather unrealistically, by a succession of male friends who are kind to Amelia and her mother and by Estelle, Amelia’s mother’s friend and partner in business and Amelia’s “second mother.” Still, the story is exciting and fun and full of good solid historical detail. Amelia gets to ride in a hot air balloon, pan for gold, witness a horrendous fire that burns down half of San Francisco, and help her family to survive.

So, if you’re looking for strong, independent heroines in a book with a good story line, check out Born To Fly or Newsgirl —or one of the books listed above. And welcome to Middle Grade Fiction where all the women (and girls) are strong, all the men are good-looking, and all the children are above average!

By the way, don’t you love those covers? Both books are definitely in the running for my personal Best Cover in Middle Grade Fiction 2009 Award.

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.

After by Amy Efaw

I read this one because my eighteen year old brought it home from the library and read it, then recommended it to Brown Bear Daughter, who is almost fifteen. Then I found out it was about a girl who abandons the unexpected baby to whom she gives birth in the beginning of the novel. Then I saw that it was recently published (2009) and I looked to see if it was a Young Adult Cybils nominee. It is.

So I had to read it, even though I’m supposed to be reading about fifty more Middle Grade Cybils nominees. My final verdict as far as Brown Bear Daughter is concerned is a qualified “yes.” The story is intense. Devon, a straight-A, straight-arrow, responsible, star soccer player, is the last girl anyone would expect to become pregnant, hide the pregnancy from everyone, even herself, and then abandon the baby after its birth in a trash can. But she does. And After is the story of what happens to Devon, well, after that disastrous decision is discovered.

I’m not sure if Brown Bear Daughter will read the book or not. She’s very busy. If she does, I would want to talk to her about what she read and what she thought about Devon and her self-deception, and the perfectionism that leads her into making such bad choices. The book is well written, and the subject matter is something teens would be likely to see on the news or in a Law and Order-type TV episode. However, I find reading about a character’s inner feelings and thoughts a more intimate and disturbing experience than watching the same story on TV. Devon got under my skin, and I wanted so much to be able to share with her the grace of God and freedom from the legalistic code she imposed on herself, a code that wouldn’t even let her admit to herself that she had made a mistake and that the people around her might extend forgiveness instead of condemnation if they knew.

William S. and the Great Escape by Zilpha Keatley Snyder

Zilpha Keatley Snyder is still writing books? I remember reading The Velvet Room, The Egypt Game, and The Headless Cupid when I was a kid of a girl, and despite my youtful appearance and attitude, that was a long time ago. So, I looked at Ms. Snyder’s website to see how old she was and found there this note from the author herself:

As any reader of my books knows, some of them have been around a long time. As a matter of fact, so have I. Actually I’m quite a bit past retirement age. But for several reasons I keep on writing. The first and most important is that I like doing it. I just feel better when I’m involved with a set of characters whose lives I’m trying to unravel and turn into stories because . . .? well, because stories are things that have fascinated me since I was a very young child when, I am told, I wept bitterly when my mother’s nightly reading brought us to the end of a given book. (Heidi, Peter Pan, whatever) Not because it was a sad ending, but because it was done. The story was over.
So I keep on writing.

Isn’t that a delightful explanation from an octogenarian (b.1927)?

Well, all I can say is, more power to her. She hasn’t lost a beat. William S. and the Great Escape is a great story about an abused child during the Great Depression (1938) who loves Shakepeare and acting. In fact, William inserts the “S” in his name to emulate his favorite author, William Shakespeare. And he carries around a copy of Shakespeare’s Complete Works, given to him by his English teacher, everywhere he goes. And he acts out the part of Ariel from The Tempest to amuse his little brother and sister. Just great stuff.

Think The Boxcar Children. Or Homecoming by Cynthia Voigt. Maybe a touch of Ballet Shoes or some such similar siblings-helping-each-other kind of book. William S. and his younger sisters, Jancy and Trixie, and the youngest of all of them, four year old Buddy, decide to run away from home because things have become unbearable. The last straw is when the children’s older siblings do something really horrible to Jancy’s pet guinea pig. Can the the children travel over a hundred miles to their aunt’s house without getting caught? What will happen to them when they get there? Will their dad, Big Ed Baggett, come after them? Will their aunt let them stay if they do make it to her house?

I highly recommend this book. The abuse, consisting mostly of beatings and neglect, is bad, but not too graphically described for an audience of children. And the courage and determination displayed by the children plus the fact that the adults in the story do finally come to the rescue make this an inspiring read.

Bull Rider by Suzanne Morgan Williams

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

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.

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.

Return to Sender by Julia Alvarez

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.

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.

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

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.

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.

Texas Tuesday: The Evolution of Calpurnia Tate by Jacqueline Kelly

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 Callie’s grandfather’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: “It’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 wasn’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.