Doubtful Willow Buds and thoughts on back story

If my husband weren't off on a musical tour of Japan, or if I had the necessary organizational and financial wherewith all to plan for evening childcare, I could head over to the Providence Athenaeum tonight, for a celebration of the 100th birthday of The Wind in the Willows, at which Mary Jane Begin will chat about her new book, Willow Buds, the Tale of Toad and Badger.

Here's the publisher's blurb:

Discover the world before The Wind in the Willows, the beloved classic by Kenneth Grahame--when the childhood adventures of best buds Ratty, Toady, Badger and Mole were just beginning! In this first tale, Archibald Toad the Third is used to having everything he wants to himself. So he's in for an unpleasant surprise when the new nanny brings her gentle son, Badger, to share in all that Toad Hall has to offer. Though Toady and Badger get off to a rocky start, they soon learn that having a true friend is worth a whole lot more than having all the toys in the world.

I haven't read the book, and I haven't even seen it, so I have no opinion as to its merits as an illustrated story. But I am doubtful.

My first doubt: I love The Wind in the Willows, in no small measure because of Ernest Shepard's illustrations. Ms. Begin, whose version of the Wind in the Willows came out in 2002, is a very talented artist, but why gild the lily?

My second doubt: Badger and Toad can't be kids together because they aren't the same age. Surely Badger is much older! And now I shall have to comb the book for textual support for my position....And Mole met everyone for the first time as a grown up, not as a child, which the blurb implies.

My third doubt (this one is weaker): Personality-wise, Badger and Toad are so different that it is hard to imagine them as childhood friends. But that's debatable, and possibly the book manages to make this convincing.

My fourth doubt: Badger's mother has supposedly been hired by Toad's family as a nanny. But Badger's family has its very large and comfortable ancestral set in the woods, and Badger seems prosperous and self-sufficient. I don't see why Mrs. Badger would have to go out to work.

My fifth, not really a doubt, but a feeling of unease: Badger has a mother ??!! I can only remember two female characters in W. in W. -- the jailer's daughter and the washerwoman. It is hard to imagine Badger in particular having much to do with a female character...

And finally, not a doubt at all but a strong feeling of unease: if a story is strong enough to be a good story, it does not need to be built on the scaffolding of a beloved childhood classic. I don't like, in general, spin-offs from the books I love, and I don't much care for fan fiction. And anyway, I have never felt that the back story of W. in W. was an aching gap. Maybe others have. But I prefer to have things get all misty around the edges of the known text, allowing every reader to imagine their own way (if they want to) from where the author left off (at least, when it's a book from my childhood that I love).

And now I am trying to thing of examples where other people coming in and writing back story was a good thing that resulted in books I like. With the possible exception of some sci. fi., I am not coming up with anything...

I am, however, coming up with good ideas for other books--I think someone has done the picture books of Black Beauty's childhood, but for older readers, how about the graphic novel about what really happened to Ginger after she and Black Beauty were parted...or perhaps picture books from the perspective of Heidi's goats (one could tie this in to a discussion of global warming and the vanishing alpine glaciers).

Elfrida Vipont

I just (30 minutes ago) had a very nice find at a library booksale--a lovely copy of The Pavilion, by Elfida Vipont, for fifty cents. Vipont is best know for The Elephant and the Bad Baby (if you've never read it to your small children, do):

but she also wrote excellent family/school stories, published in the late 1940s/1950s. The Lark in the Morn and Lark on the Wing tell the story of Kit Haverard, a motherless Quaker girl determined to become a singer (Lark in the Morn is mainly about young Kit at boarding school; Lark on the Wing is about Kit's training as a singer, and growing up, and a little romance).

These were in most US library systems until fairly recently (they were published in American editions in 1970--)--if your library still has them, check them out now! They are great (I am not the only who thinks so. Lark on the Wing won the Carnegie Medal). Because they were reprinted both in England and here, and were in many libraries, it's possible to find copies at reasonable prices.

There are three other books about Kit's family--The Pavilion, Spring of the Year, and Flowering Spring. The first is about the efforts of various Haverard cousins to save a old building that's part of their family's history, the other two are about Kit's niece, who hopes to be an actress (these two books are set in the most lovely English village imaginable). I just checked to see what The Pavilion is going for (to see if I can quit my day job; I can't). There are still some affordable copies. However, Flowering Spring and Spring of the Year are very rare, so if you see one in any condition selling cheaply, grab it.

Vipont also wrote about another family, in The Family at Dowbiggins and More About Dowbiggins (aka A Win for Henry Connors). These have almost a Noel Streatfeildian feel to them, but also quite a bit of gardening, which I like. They are also hardish to fine for reasonable prices. She wrote a few other fictional books, but they are disappointing, so I shall say no more.

It can be rather frustrating collecting English books here in the states--I hear many stories from friends in England and South Africa of the masses of wonderful books they find at car book sales and charity shops. So when I find a book like I did today, it is a very nice thing indeed. We go to England quite often, as my husband's family is there, but somehow never seem to find the right car book sales. However, my boys are saving up to go to Egypt (only a few thousand more dollars to go); I will be travelling with them as their chaperon, and since I read about the Cairo used book market, I feel much more enthusiastic. There were, I hope, many British ex pats who had large collections of girls' books which are now for sale and that no one else is buying.


I would also very much like to go to the British Virgin Islands, and other, more obscure, Outposts of Empire. A girl can dream...

Emperor Qin's Terra Cotta Army, by Michael Capek

Emperor Qin's Terra Cotta Army, by Michael Capek (Lerner, 2008, 80pp).
The farmers who lived in the shadow of Emperor Qin's burial mound told stories of ghosts beneath the earth. In 1974, the ghosts were found--the terracotta army of the emperor, thousands of clay warriors and their weapons, entombed over two thousand years before. This book is detailed account of their discovery, and the years of painstaking excavation that yielded fabulous treasures. It is told in the present text, so that the reader has the sense of making discoveries, first with the farmers digging a new well, then with the archaeologists, who are faced with one of the most formidable archaeological challenges ever:

"It seems that a vast room lies beneath the whole field. Terracotta pottery and metallic weapons fill the chamber. Yuan and the other archaeologists are overwhelmed. No one has found anything of this sort in China before. for that matter, no one has found anything like this anyplace else in the world."

Emperor Qin's army is a fascinating topic, thoroughly explored here. I wish there had been more room to place the army more firmly in its cultural and historical context--there are some sidebars, that begin to do this, but the book never strays far from the present. Copious illustrations, a glossary, a list of websites, a bibliography, and more, enhance this book's research value. And it is an excellent exploration of just how tricky archaeology can be, and how much patience can be required--today, when the museum visitor sees the warriors standing in their orderly rows, it is hard to remember that they were found in many, many pieces!

This review is my contribution to Nonfiction Monday over at Picture Book of the Day. I received my copy from the publisher.

The Books of March

Here are the books I read last month, not counting things read out loud to children and re-reading (I read quite a few of Miss Read's Thrush Green books, for instance--I had a cold and needed to cosset myself; these are about as cosseting as one can get).


Wilderness Roddy Doyle (I was a tad dubious about this one--the other book by him I've read, Paddy Clark Ha Ha Ha, was rather traumatic (poor Sinbad). But either I'm a stronger person now, or this one was gentler (the later) Two boys and their mother go off for a wilderness holiday in Finland in winter; back home in Ireland, their older half sister awaits the visit of her own mother, who left her when she was a baby. Nothing terrible happens).

Firegirl, by Tony Abbott (too short--I would have appreciated more of Tom and Jessica's relationship, but I guess part of the point is that even small meetings can have big impacts. Or something.)

Leepike Ridge by N.D. Wilson (one I'm looking forward to putting in my boys' hands in a few years--a great adventure story), and also Wilson's 100 Cupboards (the cupboard concept is great, and I'm looking forward to the sequel).

Good Enough Paula Yoo (loved it; planning on review in it detail)

Surviving the Applewhites (This was a 2003 Newbery Honor book; deservedly so. But I think that when a book starts from the point of view of a girl and you start investing in your relationship with her it's not fair to move almost entirely to the point of view of someone else altogether. But a good book nonetheless, especially for people like me who have a weakness for fictional amateur theatrical productions).

Songs for a Teenage Nomad Kim Culbertson (I'll be reviewing this one in detail d.v.)

Eggs Jerry Spinelli (it was ok, but I think I missed some crucial egg metaphor here. For instance, I noticed no hatching. Possibly some cracking out of shells???).

It's Kind of a Funny Story Ned Vizinni (very good book--quite high in my list of fictional teens in mental institutions, although I will always bear a torch for I Never Promised You a Rose Garden)

Freak the Mighty W. Rodman Philbrick (I cried. What a good good book. I'm not rushing out to get the sequel, Max the Mighty, just yet, in case it's an anticlimax. I don't see how it can not be).

The Alton Gift Marion Zimmer Bradley and Deborah J. Ross (need I say more. I've given up on the Pern books, but some things from my youth still call to me. Hawkmistress was a great favorite when I was 14 or so. I think readers currently devouring Shannon Hale's books would love it).

Long Live the Queen and Friends for Life Ellen Emerson White (I doubt I'll re-read either of these. Especially the first--I'm rather wimpy when it comes to pages and pages of horrible suffering).

The Whillougbys Lois Lowry, 2008 (loved it lots, will be reviewing it)

The Mummy Market Nancy Brelis (found a copy in Rhode Island's library system after reading about it here, at the great blog Collecting Children's Books; enjoyable and I'll buy it if I find it, but my socks stayed on).

Time Out for Happiness by Frank B. Gilbreth Jr (I was very chuffed to find this in a box of book sale donations--I enjoyed Cheaper by the Dozen and Belles on Their Toes very much, and although this book is more a biography of the Gilbreth parents, it was nice to visit the family afresh).

Home from Far Jean Little (she's a good writer, this is a good story about the death of a sibling and the arrival of foster children, but not one of her best books. On the other hand, I was reading it with a bad cold on a bus at 6:30 in the morning, so it had a lot to contend with).

The Compound, by S. A. Bodeen (here's my review)

Eighteen new books, many of which I enjoyed lots and will re-read. Pretty good.

For National Poetry Month

I just saw that someone found me by doing the following google search "poem children are like falling snow." Doing the same google search, I found that no one had written this poem yet, so always being one to think of others, I have done so, and present it in honor (dubious) of National Poetry Month. It is, by the way, tongue in cheek.

Children are like falling snow.

A whisper on the wind brings
small sounds,
Small cold fingers on your face.

Then the next thing you know,
Everything is utterly covered up and walking is difficult.

You clean the children off the paths,
Sweep them from the back stairs,
Watch snow plows push them into place.
Still they keep coming

Three different endings! (pick one, or write your own!):

Until your heart melts.

"Go outside! Mama is trying to read!"

Snowflakes—beautiful, magical, yet deadly.

Reading books about School Girls

Here are the thoughts of Lucy Mangan, a columnist for the Guardian, on why she is not rushing to embrace the remake of the Famous Five. She feels that "the assumptions that underpin these remodelling quests deserve to be unpicked from time to time - the main one being that children want, or should be provided with, only entertainment that reflects their own reality."

As a grown up who really does not want to read any book that reflects my own reality (especially the messy house bit), and who can attribute most of her general knowledge to reading books about places and peoples far away in time and space, I say hear hear. I read to be taken somewhere else, which is one reason I enjoy English school stories so much--the stark contrast between regimented tidy life of that alien creature, the School Girl, and my own life, to which cannot apply the word "controlled," is great. In my favorite stories, the School Girl turns against the regimentation, and bravely makes her own path, allowing me to think, comfortingly, that I would do the same (rather than just get into constant trouble over my untidy sock drawer).

Lucy Mangan is also a fan of school stories, and uses them as one of her own examples, although she highlights a different aspect of their unreality--"Dimsie, the Marlows and the Chalet School heroines articulated the vanishing ideas of moral duty and the honour of the school, and although I never got to demonstrate either - not being able to play lacrosse, never mind with a fractured leg, and the shortage of clifftop rescue opportunities in the Lewisham borough - it was good to know they had once existed, and the knowledge afforded a valuable glimpse into the minds of grandparents and teachers whose thinking had been moulded by such strange notions."

I've read the three series above--all are beautifully escapist, but I would most recommend Antonia Forest's books about the Marlow family. The writing is incredibly sharp.

And then there's the wonderful case of Millie in Diana Wynne Jones' The Lives of Christopher Chant, who uses this same genre to escape from her childhood as a living goddess ...

Progress--blogging, bookcases, and stones

Blogging from work is not a preferred option, and blogging from home has been technically impossible, but now, progress. The home computer is updated, and this is its first test...

I also made a very satisfying progress viz books--I got a check last week for an article that came out in Dig Magazine last October (the first time I've ever been paid for writing :) --if anyone wants to learn more about my real life as an archaeologist, there it is). So I went out and bought a book case, which has given the beloved fantasy books considerably more elbow room. There are open spaces for Chalice (Robin Mckinley), Lavinia (Ursula Le Guin), and new books by Patricia McKillip, Diana Wynne Jones, and Megan Whalen Turner (hope on hope ever).

And I have also made progress (about 20 feet up a steep slope) with the stone of today. I'm building a wall, which entails rolling stones up from the deep woods behind our woods...

Non-fiction Monday -- Two for One gardening books

We started our first lot of seeds inside a few days ago, and have begun busily digging and clearing outside...perhaps this summer we will actually live our dream of canning and pickling (although I am so traumatized by the exploding tomatoes in Then There Were Five by Elizabeth Enright that it might never happen. Even though I have never met anyone in real life who has a. been hit in the eye by a boiling hot tomato b. been cut on the cheek by an exploding glass canning jar). But anyway. Every March I, and many others, have a tendency to read books about gardening to the children. And being one who improves each shining hour, I appreciate books that combine gardening with other useful skills (colors, counting, the alphabet--The Little Seed, by Eric Carle, is therefore disqualified). Here are a few examples, and even though my children have already learned how to count, etc., we still enjoy them:

Jerry Pallotta is a winner as far as alphabet books go, and he has two that are plant related-- The Flower Alphabet Book and The Victory Garden/Vegetable Alphabet (the former seems to be the hard cover, the later the paperback). The flower one is lovely, but the flowers are not in garden context, so it doesn't quite inspire enthusiasm for dirt. However, the vegetable one is an inspiration to all of us who hope for produce.

.
Planting a Rainbow, by Lois Ehlert (1988), is an equally great inspiration for those who hope to grow flowers with very young children (2-4 ish), taking lovely plants from the ground to the end result. Not only does it talk about different colors and types of plants, this book comes right out and boldly uses the words "corm" and "rhizome." And why not. Eating the Alphabet is also a lovely book, but the fruits and vegetables it features have, as the title suggests, stopped growing, so it's not about gardening.

Counting in the Crazy Garden, by Margarette Burnette, illustrated by Brooke Henson (2008, JenPrint), is a newcomer to the genre of plant and learn books (I just got a review copy from the publisher). Arnold Bear loves playing chef in his garden, coming up with delicacies from 1 serving of worm cobbler to 9 sand sandwiches. Not surprisingly, his little brother and his friend Maria have no interest in sharing. At last Maria shows Arnold how to plant a real garden, and good food is had by all. The illustrations are cheerful, but a bit too un-nuanced for my taste; the story encourages kids to enjoy gardens, which is great. I think, though, that the pretend food looks more fun than the garden produce. I myself loved playing kitchen with bits of plants, and have tried with little success to get my children to do likewise--a book that encourages kids to use their imaginations outside, even though that's not the intended point, is a good thing. This is the only book I can think of that combines counting and gardening (as opposed to random things outside, that seem to be counted a lot)--am I missing something? (another review is here, at the Well Read Child, and here's the Chipper Kids website).

Another gardening classic with a bonus didactic component is of course the story of the Little Red Hen (and this lesson is not one my children have fully absorbed--"who will help me clean this house?" I ask, with predictable results). Thinking about it, within the fictional framework is a darn good non-fiction account of the hard work involved in going from seed to bread.

But at the end of the day, it is always nice to simply read one of the best gardening stories for kids ever--"The Garden" from Frog and Toad Together, by Arnold Lobel:

"All the next day Toad sand songs to his seeds.
And all the next day Toad read poems to his seeds.
And all the next day Toad played music for his seeds....."

For more non-fiction, head over to today's roundup of Nonfiction Monday posts here at Picture Book of the Day.

Imanginary Menagerie, a Book of Curious Creatures

Imaginary Menagerie, A Book of Curious Creatures poems by Julie Larios, pictures by Julie Paschkis (Harcourt, 2008).

After I read this book, I went out and bought a powerball ticket. I wanted to be able to buy one of the paintings...as usual, I didn't win. And today, after enjoying this book in our home, we are handing it over to the library, where it should disappear quite quickly into other homes. "No Mama!" cried my 4 year old, "No! Don't take it away!" In short, the paintings of mythical creatures in this book are some of the loveliest I've ever seen. I can't do them justice (Lindisfarne Gospel meets Ukrainian egg decoration? With variations, such as North West coast art? see below), so go look at the book yourself. (Although all the three styles I mentioned do share the commonality of occupying empty space with color and pattern and loving detail, so perhaps I am not so far off).

The downside of having such gorgeous pictures is that the poems end up a bit overshadowed. Ten of the fourteen poems address the reader with direct questions, giving them a certain sameness of voice that I found a bit disappointing. Here's my favorite:

Dragon

The air around me
burns bright as the sun.
I tell wild rivers
which way to run.
I'm arrow tailed,
fish scaled,
a luck bringer.
When I fly,
it's a flame song the world sings.
But you can ride safely
between my wings.

A nice touch to this book is the glossary of imaginary creatures at the end, where those who aren't quite sure what hobgoblins are can find out.

You can read another poem, Thunderbird, here at Kelly Fineman's blog.

And Harcourt has created a classroom kit for National Poetry Month and Young People's Poetry Week (April 14-20) based on this book--here's the link.

The Poetry Friday roundup is being hosted today at the lovely blog of Wild Rose Reader.

Just for kicks, here (not as beautifully laid out as they were supposed to be, grr) are a closeup from the Lindisfarne gospel, some eggs, and a North West coast chest:

Famous Five: On the Case

I had read about the new tv series, featuring a middle-aged Famous Five. But now comes this, from BBC News-Entertainment:

"Enid Blyton's Famous Five are returning to TV screens in a new animated series - with an updated 21st Century look. Famous Five: On the Case features the children of the original ginger beer-loving adventurers - and their dog, Timmy.

But the Famous Five's offspring are now multicultural; their enemies include a DVD bootlegger and they sport modern gadgets like iPods and mobile phones.

The new series launches on 5 May on the Disney Channel."

The characters include "12-year-old Anglo-Indian Jo, short for Jyoti - a Hindu world meaning light - who, like her mother George, is a tomboy and the group's team leader" and Anne's daughter Allie "a 12-year-old Californian "shopaholic" who enjoys going out and getting "glammed up" but is packed off to the British countryside to live with her cousins."

It is hard for me to imagine either of these as likely progeny, but whatever. I won't be watching--for me a large part the charm of the original books is their dated improbability, which is, of course, not going to part of this new adventure (although it might well have a large measure of its own brand of improbability).

Chalice, by Robin Mckinley, coming in Sept.

Over at Robin Mckinley's blog she put up a blurb about her new book, Chalice, coming this September. It looks really really good--magic, beekeeping, romance... I am a sucker for these romancy type fantasies, and she does them so well (when she feels like it). I am even almost tempted to squee in a fan girl kind of way...

Mass Extinction, by Tricia Andryszewski

Mass Extinction: Examining the Current Crisis, by Tricia Andryszewski (2008, Lerner, 111 pp, Grades 6-12).

Mass Extinction begins on an ominous note, describing the lost dogwoods of the Appalachians, and the sad plight of the hemlocks. A bit of a respite is provided in an overview of past great extinction crises--the Big Five. I enjoyed this part; it's safely in the past. But then Andryszewski begins to address her main subject--the extent to which humans are precipitating Big Six. And it looks grim. Chapters on altered and fragmented habitats, purposeful killing, invasive species, climate change, and toxins paint a deeply disturbing picture. The narrative is accompanied by side bars that include historical pictures and writing as well as photographs of living animals, adding depth and context.

This is not a cheerful book. It is beautiful written-- I read parts of it out loud, which I think is one of the best ways of finding flaws in prose, and found none to speak of. The vocabulary is simple, yet effectively used to convey complex information in a non-didactic way. It's well illustrated, and informative as all get out. But despite all this, it is not a pleasant reading experience, and I stopped reading it out loud to my older boy by the third chapter--much too depressing. And there's no comforting conclusion, no "if you turn off the lights when you aren't using them all will be well."

However, because this book is so matter of fact about the harm that has been done to the earth's ecosystems, and the consequences to us, its warning might be much more persuasive than some of the more evangelical environmental books out there.

This isn't one for young readers. Leafing through it with my children, I had to close it quickly when we got to the picture of the seven legged frog. There are things they are still to young to know, but the older readers, for whom this book is intended, should read and learn...and hopefully help.

One sidebar quotes Henry David Thoreau writing on extinction: "I should not like to think that some demigod had come before me and picked out some of the best of the stars. I wish to know an entire heaven and an entire earth." I, likewise, do not want my children to grow up in a rhinoceros-less, or even, heaven forbid, a frogless world.

On a positive note, I read today that the black footed ferrets had a successful breeding year in 2007--397 babies, and very cute they are.

(Disclaimer: I got my copy from the publisher)

I'm the Biggest Thing in the Ocean!

The first wave of books from my recent expenditure of library booksale money arrived yesterday, and included a picture book I've wanted to read for ages-- I’m the Biggest Thing in the Ocean, by Kevin Sherry (Penguin/Dial, May 2007, 32pp).

It was just as good as I had hoped it would be. It is, in fact, the best picture book I’ve read since Scaredy Squirrel. The “biggest thing in the ocean” is a Giant Squid, who smugly says on the jacket flap, “I’m bigger than this book!” Encounters with other sea creatures bolster his conviction that he’s the biggest, until the much, much larger Humpback Whale appears—bye bye squiddy. This is a powerfully illustrated scene (in a bright and playful way), showing the squid’s tentacles dangling horrifically from the whale’s mouth. We were a bit taken aback. Was squiddy gone for good?

Spoiler

No! On the next page, there he was inside the whale, with all the other sea creatures, looking sad and bewildered, but then --- “I’m the biggest thing in the whale!”

And don’t neglect to look at the back of the book -- “I’m bigger than this bar code!” says Squid, gleefully.

In a nutshell, I might have to actually spend my own money on another copy of this book. My 4 year old does not want it to go to on to its new life at the library, and the fact that we are going to keep the complimentary bath clings with which it came does not mollify him. I don’t think that bath clings are really something that should circulate, somehow…

This is Kevin Sherry's first book, but since he signed a three deal book with Dial, there should, d.v., be more to come.

Here's another review, at Pixie Stix Kids Pix

Book Buying

I have just had the pleasure of spending money that wasn't mine, on books I wanted to read. The books in question mostly came to my attention from various blog posts, so in case you wonder if anyone buys the books after you review them, the answer is yes.

My spending money came from my most recent Friends of the Library book sale, which was, as usual, a shattering amount of work. My reward is shopping, with the blessing of our children's librarian (and some specific requests). So here's what I bought, with titles linked, when relevant, to the blog reviews that inspired me (although some of these titles have been floating around on random scraps of paper so long that I have no clue why I though the book was a good idea):

I`m the Biggest Thing in the Ocean Kevin Sherry, 2007
The Neddiad Daniel Pinkwater, 2007
If I Had a Dragon Amanda Ellery, illustrated by Tom Ellery, 2006
Out of the Egg, Moonsilver, The Silver Bracelet, and The Silver Thread Kathleen Duey and Omar Rayyan. I know for a fact that I read about this series on someone's blog, around January, judging from where the piece of paper was stratigraphically, but I can't find it.
Good Enough Paula Yoo, 2008.
The Willougbys Lois Lowry, 2008
Imaginary Menagerie Julie Larios and Julie Paschkis, 2008. And this should have a link to it to, because I read about it on someone's blog, darn it, but can't find anything via technorati, blog search, or jacket flap. Was the little snippet buried deep in a post over at Seven Impossible Things, saying just that the book was coming, all that it took?
Dumped by Popular Demand P.G. Kain, 2007 ok, so the link here isn't actually to the book I bought, but to its sequel. But it made me buy the book. If you want Jen's review of Dumped you can read it here.
Guess What I Found in Dragon Wood Timothy Knapman, 2008
When Fish Got Feet, Sharks Got Teeth, and Bugs Began to Swarm Hannah Bonner, 2007
D Is for Dragon Dance Ying Chang Compestine, illustrated by Yongsheng Xuan 2006. Yeah well, every other library in the state had it on display last month, so we're a bit behind on this one. But as my husband says, "Better late than too late."
Caddy Ever After, Hilary Mckay. I can't believe I hadn't gotten it for the library before now.
Grumpy Bird Jeremey Tankard, 2007. I've wanted this one for ages.
The Way We Work, David MacAuley, 2008. I saw MacAuley talking about the writing process for this book about 2 years ago, during which (if I remember correctly) he shadowed anatomy students dissecting corpses. He passed around a few of his sketchbooks, which we handled reverently...
The Compound, by S.A. Bodeen 2008. I just reviewed the ARC of this book, and I bet it will go off the shelves quite nicely.


and finally,
Vulture View, by April Pulley Sayre, 2007. Everyone needs Vultures.





But I'm not going to order Love and Other Uses for Duct Tape, by Carrie Jones, 2008. I'm going to head down to the book store right now to see if they have it...

The Compound by S.A. Bodeen

In my capacity as a member of the Nominating Committee for the Young Adult Cybils, I read with great enjoyment several books from the fairly new (2006) publisher Feiwel and Friends (The Poisen Apples, Carpe Diem, and Get Well Soon).* So when I was offered an advance reader copy of one of their new YA books, I jumped at it.

The book in question is The Compound, by S.A. Bodeen (coming this spring). The Compound could be described as Anne Frank meets The Shining, but I'll resist the temptation.

Here's how it starts:

"My world ended with a bang the minute we entered the Compound and that silver door closed behind us.

The sound was brutal.

Final.

An echoing, resounding boom that slashed my nine-year old heart in two. My fists beat on the door. I bawled. The screaming left me hoarse and my feet hurt."

Eli and his family are locked into the safty of the compound his billionare father had built to save them from nuclear war. His grandmother and his twin brother didn't make it, and were left outside to face Armeggedon. Now it is six years later, and life in the compound is disintegrating. The food is not going to last--parts of the father's plan appear to have been sabotaged, and other aspects of it are so twisted that they seem the work of a mad man. And indeed Eli's father is getting stranger and stranger, and Eli begins to wonder what exactly the Compound really is, and what might exist outside it.

We pick up the narrative after the family has been living in isolation for six years, so the Anne Frank aspect of it all--the interpersonal relationships tested by claustrophobic closeness--are not the focus of the plot, although clearly Eli's character has been shaped by these unnatural circumstances, and by his grief and guilt about his twin. We see events strictly through Eli's eyes, and he is not the most empathetic, aware narrator. He isn't particularly sympathetic, either--when a first person narrator has a low opinion of himself, it can be hard for the reader to think otherwise. Faced with the crisis developing in the compound, however, he gains maturity and becomes more likable.

The crisis, a spiraling insanity (the Shinning part, although there's no supernatural element), is grippingly portrayed. There are clues from the beginning that things are very twisted, to which Bodeen keeps adding. It's a real page-turning read, even though the answers to some big questions become obvious to the reader a bit before they become obvious to Eli.

I was slightly dissatisfied by how things were resolved--it's not quite clear how insane the father really is. But this is a book I'd be happy to recommend to the young teen who like thrillers. It struck me as a book I'd recommend this to readers who liked The Shadow Children, by Margaret Peterson Haddix--similar in its plot of children trapped in mysterious circumstances.

*I'm not alone in this--see this post from Trisha over at the Ya Ya Yas.

The Missing Piece, by Shel Silverstein

For the past few days I have been in the throes of setting up a library booksale. This is a job with both cons (it's a heck of a lot of work) and pros (I get to take home books). I was very happy yesterday to find that someone had donated a lovely copy of Shel Silverstein's book, The Missing Piece (1970, Scholastic 1995). I was even happier when my seven year old seized it and started reading out loud to us. For the first two thirds of the book, I was day dreaming about the glowing blog entry I would write about it. Then, betrayal. Total betrayal.

The story is as follows- a happy-face (in profile) shaped piece is looking for his missing triangle. He rolls through the world, slowly because of the missing piece, smelling flowers, meeting various insects, and then encountering various triangles, one of whom doesn't want his identity subsumed by a larger shape, and many who just don't fit. At last he finds a triangle who fits beautifully, and is willing to enter into a relationship, and both shapes are happy. But not for long.

With the new triangle in place, the shape now rolls quickly, too fast for nature appreciation. So what does the original shape do? Does he say, "Let's stop for a while, and rest, and I'll explore a bit but come back to you?" NO! He leaves the poor triangle, who looks sad and stunned, in the dust, and totally abandons it! What a jerk. The message of the story becomes this--if your partner in a relationship holds you back from doing the things you liked pre-relationship, dump your partner without apology. I'm just glad they hadn't had any kids.

New book coming this fall from Patricia McKillip

The Bell at Sealey Head, by Patricia McKillip, will be released this September from Ace. I had heard a while ago that she was coming out with a new book, to be called Knight Errant, which struck me as an awful title. So I am pleased!

If there should be, by any chance, any people who like books and libraries reading this who like fantasy but haven't tried much McKillip, I heartily recommend The Alphabet of Thorn (2004)--here's a review that does it justice. And it has the most gorgeous cover, by Kinuko Y. Craft, shown here without all those pesky words:



All of Craft's covers are lovely, but this is one of my favorites (although, looking at it critically as art isolated from the text and the bookness of the book, it somehow doesn't seem quite as appealing as I thought it would).

The February issue of the Edge of the Forest is up!

Highlights include:

An interview with Eric Rohmann, by Julie M. Prince
A hearty defense of YA Literature, by Little Willow
Graphic Novels: A Gateway to a New World, by Kelly Fineman
A profile of illustrator Sylvia Long, by Kris Bordessa
A fantastic new column called A Backward Glance, by writer Candice Ransom
P.J. Hoover is this month's Blogging Writer, interviewed by Christine Marciniak
Reviews in all categories—from Picture book to Young Adult.

Thanks Kelly, of Big A little a, for making this happen!

Books I read in February

Here are the books I read last month, not counting re-reads, non-fiction, or picture books. Although since I lost most of the scraps of paper I wrote them down on, I'm sure I've missed more than a few.

London Calling, Edward Bloor (2006)
Letters From Rapunzel, Sarah Lewis Holmes (2007)
Monsoon Summer, Mitali Perkins (2004)
First Boy, Gary Schmidt (2005)
Edward's Eyes, Patricia MacLachlan (2007)
Looking for JJ, Anne Cassidy (2007)
The Scarlet Stockings, Charlotte Kandel (2007)
Forever Rose, Hilary Mckay (2007)
Strangers to the Marsh, Monica Edwards (Republished in 2007 by Girls Gone By)
Memories of Summer, Ruth White (2000)
Just Like Everybody Else, Lillian Rosen (1981)
Jump the Cracks, Stacy DeKeyser (2008) (thanks Stacy! I hope to review it soon)

If my scraps of paper surface, I will add to this...

Father Fox's Pennyrhymes

For those who like a bit of dark humor, but gently done, and in small doses, leavened by much old-fashined fun, there is Father Fox's Pennyrhymes, by Clayde Watson, illustrated by Wendy Watson (1971). It's kind of a twisted mother goose enacted by dressed-up rural Vermont foxes, who give voice to many snarky, humoerous, and even sweet asides in the pictures (so I can't really do it justice).

Here's an example of one of the "darker" rhymes:

Little Martha piggy-wig
Run away and dance a jig!
If you weren't so fat and sweet
You wouldn't be so good to eat.

The picture shows little Martha, the only pig on the fox-covered playground, jumproping for dear life (literally).

Poking around on line, I see that I am not make a new and earthshaking discovery here. Oh well. It just got a huge blast of publicity back in January,here at Read Roger, and Sam Riddleburger looked at it in some detail last September here, and doubtless there are many others. But I am the first, as far as I know, to feature little Martha.

I shall eagerly look for Father Fox's Christmas Rhymes when it becomes seasonally appropriate to do so.

The Poetry Friday round up is at Kelly Fineman's place (Writing and Ruminating) today!

Things that stuck in my head

A few days ago, a. fortis at Finding Wonderland wrote a post called "Things I learned from kids' books," which lists specific bits of information she has acquired. I agree heartily that kid's books are an excellent source of general knowledge, and I would know much less about history in particular if I hadn't read so many books.

But then I started to muse about what more abstract, but still very specific, things have stuck in my head from reading children's books. Things that are more guidelines for living than facts, and not big guidelines, like respecting others, but little things.

For example, in Elizabeth Goudge's The Valley of Song (a lovely book, but be sure to read it when you are young, because it's better that way), various children meet their signs of the Zodiac. The Capricorn child must plunge into a dark abyss, and is afraid. But "No child of mine, born to the hardness of the cold nights and the lashings of the winter winds, was ever a coward." says Capricorn (page 140) And in goes the boy. I'm a Capricorn, so whenever I have to go to the dentist, or get up on a cold morning, or deal with even worse crises, this pops into my head, and quite often stiffens my spine...

And there's this bit, from Taran Wander, by Lloyd Alexander:

Taran has learned how to weave, after much laborious effort. But then:

"The pattern," he murmured, frowning. "It-I don't know, somehow it doesn't please me."

"Now then, Wanderer," replied Dwyvach, "no man put a sword to your throat; the choice of pattern was your own."

"That it was," Taran admitted. "but now I see it closely, I would rather have chosen another."

"Ah, ah," said Dwyvach, with her dry chuckle, "in that case you have but one of two things to do. Either finish a cloak you'll be ill-content to wear, or unravel it and start anew. For the loom weaves only the pattern set upon it."

Taran stared a long while at his handiwork. At last he took a deep breath, sighed, and shook his head. "So be it. I'll start anew."

This one comes into my head a lot. And often it has spurred me on to make changes, to start again, even though it is hard.

And finally, here's one that mercifully has faded somewhat. Thanks to Meg Murray in The Wind in the Door, and the test involving Mr. Jenkins, I used to lie awake at night trying to think loving thoughts about my middle school principle. It is possible that this made me a better person, more apt to see the good in everyone I meet....it is equally possible it simply inflated my high opinion of myself.

I am, however, very grateful that, pious child though I was, I never felt compelled to play Pollyanna's Glad Game.

Gateway Monthly, also TH White

For those of us interested in book news from across the pond (that is, the UK), there's an online monthly magazine--the Gateway Monthly-- that is chock full of information, reviews, contests, etc. The March issue has just been put up. I was especially pleased to see that The Sword in the Stone , by TH White, is being re-published with a jazzy new cover; I love that book and hope it finds new fans.

The Sword in the Stone tells of the boyhood of King Arthur, and the story continues in The Once and Future King. However, a version of The S. in the S. can be found at the beginning of The O. and F. K., but the two are very different, and the S in the S is much, much better and more child friendly.

The S. in the S. version was T.H. White's final choice. The Book of Merlin, published after these two and continuing Arthur's story, uses material that appears verbatim in the The O. and F. K. version (Arthur's journeys to the ants and the geese, which are so much more effective when they happen in his old age. They also make much more sense to adult readers than to children).

So, to summarize: read The Sword in the Stone when you are about 9 or 10, then The Once and Future King when you are about 14 or 15, skipping the part about Arthur's childhood, then read, when you are even older, The Book of Merlin.

The Scarlet Stockings by Charlotte Kandel

The Scarlet Stockings--the Enchanted Riddle by Charlotte Kandel (Dutton Children's Books, 2007, ages 9-12)

Daphne has grown up in the Orphanage of St. Jude, in 1920s London. It's a fairly friendly orphanage, as far as these things go, but still a difficult place to keep alive a dream of one day being a ballet dancer. In her thirteenth year, she receives a mysterious parcel that gives her fresh hope--a book called How to Teach Yourself Ballet, a pair of magical scarlet stockings, and a mysterious riddle. Following the riddle takes her to a new family, who welcomes her with love, the chance to help out at their greengrocers stall and the fun of performing on the streets with other children. But this isn't enough for the ambitious Daphne, and, spurning her London friends and family, she pursues her ambitions to the Ballet Splendide, in Paris, where she will be tested by the magic of the scarlet stockings (shades of Anderson's fairy tale about the Red Shoes).

It's a good story, briskly told. There's a very Noel Streatfeild-ish** feel to the first part of the book--ambitious London child, struggling to find a way to dance--that I found very appealing, being an enthusiastic N.S. fan. As the plot takes Daphne away from the London family, it focuses more on her ambition, in which she is aided by the magic of the stockings. Caught up in her desire to reach the top, she gradually becomes a much less sympathetic, and more isolated, character (and my interest in her waned).

Finally she pays a steep price for reaching great heights in the ballet world,* and learns that fame is not all that is worthwhile. The action takes Daphne quickly from one setting to another; I would have appreciated a slower journey, with more time to get to know the supporting cast (or, to put it another way, I liked the sub-plots of orphan being adopted by loving family and children putting on shows so much that I wanted more of them!).

This book should be enjoyed greatly by girls who love stories about ballet and orphans, with a twist of magic. And the pink cover should add to its appeal to this audience....

*in case anyone is worried, Daphne does not, like Anderson's heroine, have to ask a woodcutter to chop her feet off. She is able to dance again.

** Noel Streatfeild is the author of Ballet Shoes, Theater Shoes, etc. The book of hers I was most reminded of, however, is Thursday's Child, about a Victorian orphan who ends up an actress.

(I received my copy of this book from the publisher)

Two snow poems by Robert Graves

It has been snowing today here in Rhode Island. The part of me that has to bring in firewood and drive places is dubious about the whole thing, but the gardener part is happy to see the bare soil covered, so as to better grow things next spring. (As, I think, Laura said to Almanzo, or vice versa, in The First Four Years, "Snow is poor man's fertilizer").

Here are two beautiful snow poems, by Robert Graves (early to mid 20th century, English, author of I, Claudius but primarily a poet in his own mind).

Like Snow

She, then, like snow in a dark night,
Fell secretly. And the world waked
With dazzling of the drowsy eye,
So that some muttered 'Too much light',
And drew the curtains close.
Like snow, warmer than fingers feared,
And to soil friendly;
Holding the histories of the night
In yet unmelted tracks.


She Tells Her Love

She tells her love while half asleep,
In the dark hours,
With half-words whispered low:
As Earth stirs in her winter sleep
And put out grass and flowers
Despite the snow,
Despite the falling snow.

Poetry Friday is at Big A little a today!

Top 50 UK children's books

"Narnia Triumphs Over Potter" is the headline in an article in today's Telegraph (UK), that offers yet another list of the top 50 children's books (at least, I feel that I have read many such UK lists in the past year...maybe it's just me). In this case, the books were chosen by parents, so many of the top books are older--Enid Blyton's Famous Five series is in third place, for instance. I devoured these when I was young, and was very angry indeed at my mother for leaving our complete set behind in the Bahamas when we moved back to the states when I was 11--like many parents, she never liked Blyton, which perhaps added spice to my reading experience. The fairytales of Hans Christian Anderson are in 22nd place, much higher than where I would have put them. Any collection that includes a story about insects crawling over the frozen-open eyeballs of a little girl (The Girl Who Stepped on a Loaf) is not one that I crack open regularly to share with my children.

It was very interesting, however, to learn that since its publication in 1960, The Very Hungry Caterpillarar has sold about 1 copy a minute.

Book shelves like you've never seen them...

At the moment, I have enough room for my books. But someday my boys are (selfishly) going to want to keep their own things in their closets, so perhaps it will come to this:

Yes, this is a functional staircase. There are more pictures here. I wouldn't want to keep my better books in it, but I do have a lot of science fiction and paperback children's books that would be suitable...

What fictional boarding school would you like to go to?

There's an interesting little article in the Guardian today, that asks the question--"What fictional school would you like to go to?" I'm an inveterate reader of English girls' boarding school books, despite the fact that I would utterly loathe the vast majority of the schools-- so much organization of one's time, so little chance to creep off alone with a book, so many long organized walks, cold baths, and compulsory games. There's one book, in fact, (Lucy Brown's School Days, by Dorothy Vicary, 1951), whose plot revolves on the rehabilitation of Lucy from a book reading, chocolate-eating introvert to a star athlete and all round team player. Horrors. Even the fact that many of these fictional boarding schools have great settings, such as Mallory Towers (Enid Blyton), a castle-like structure on the coast of Cornwall, I'm not convinced it would be worth it.

One school that breaks from the pattern is Josephine Elder's Farm School, which she wrote about in three books: Exile for Annis (1938), The Cherry Tree Perch (1939), and Strangers at the Farm School (1940). This is a rather utopian school, where you get to pick the direction of your own studies, all the while learning practical skills and helping to look after the farm. And the students are so busy actually doing their own projects at their own pace, and doing communal work, that they are never organized for Walks. So this is my pick for fictional school.*

Copies of the Farm School books are fairly common and inexpensive, but sadly most of these are the Children's Press Editions. Children's Press books are often, but not always, horribly abridged. I've never read the non-Children's Press editions of these myself, but it's my understanding that Exile for Annis survived pretty much intact, but the later two got damaged.

Sort of straying off the topic of fictional schools, I'd just like to say that The Best Girls School Story Ever is Evelyn Finds Herself, also by Josephine Elder. Which really deserves a post to itself one of these days.

*Hogwarts, fun though it is to read about, would be very frustrating to attend. Not just because of titanic struggles against evil and that sort of thing, but because of the inconveniences of the stairways and passwords and all, and the lack of a decent education. (And thinking about reading at school, does any student ever read any fiction for fun?)

Jellaby

Jellaby by Kean Soo (Hyperion, 2008) --a graphic novel about a girl, a boy, and a purple monster

Portia is an only child, whose father has vanished. She’s bored and lonely, unhappy at school, with no friends, troubled by nightmares and the mystery of her lost father. Then, out in the dark woods one night, she meets Jellaby, a lost and hungry alien/monster (?), sitting scarred and alone, clutching his tail (Jellaby is just the sweetest little old thing, in a voiceless, paw-twisting way). Soon a classmate, Jason, finds himself involved in Portia’s plan to try to find Jellaby’s home, and Jason, Portia, and Jellaby are off on a train ride to the Halloween Fair in the big city (Toronto).

And here, in the midst of disaster, with the mysteries of Jellaby’s origins and the fate of Portia’s father totally unresolved, the reader is told to wait for the next volume. Wah! We were riveted to the page! Totally engrossed! The three heroes had just jumped off a moving train! How will they get to Toronto now? Who is that scary bird beak man? Who, for that matter, is Jellaby? The cover doesn’t say a word about this being book one. Humph.

Jellaby is no Barney, and this book is more than a fun story about friendship. There are dark aspects to the plot, most notably the nightmarish bird beak man who might have information about Portia’s father (seriously scary—Portia first meets him shackled to a bench at the police station where her mother is filing the missing person report). Even though she has a mother who clearly loves her, Portia is an unhappy loner. Jason is home in an empty house with no parental care, and the victim of bullies at school. A lot of the poignancy is conveyed in the drawings—a page of Portia pictures in the back of the dark car, getting smaller and smaller as she asks, “Mommy, where’s my Daddy?”, and a whole series of pictures showing Jason eating his cup of ramen noodles, alone. These darker aspects seem aimed at an older audience than the 7-8 year old audience who would be drawn to the making friends with the monster plot.

But in short, this is a great book to give to a second or third grader, girl or boy, who is learning to read, and it is a great book for older kids to read too. And while we wait for the next book, there are some Jellaby shorts up Fuse #8, and at The Secret of the Wednesday Haul

Winner of the Waterstones Book Prize

The Waterstones Book Prize is a very prestigious award given by the British book seller Waterstones to a debut writer for children. This year's winner was just announced: Ways to Live Forever, by Sally Nicholls. You can read more here. I'm almost in tears reading the publisher's synopsis:

Ways to Live Forever is a scrapbook of lists, stories, pictures, questions and facts put together by 11-year-old Sam. He's a boy who collects facts and loves looking things up on the Internet. He's curious about ghosts and UFOs - and also death. Sam has terminal leukaemia. He is going to die. And dying is a fact of life.-it's about an 11 year old boy who is dying of leukemia.

Oh well. Death books are popular with the young, so this one will go on my shopping list for the library when it comes out over here.

Poetry Friday--Valentine's Day ish: Jenny Kissed Me

An old chestnut, but very sweet:

"Jenny Kissed Me"

Jenny kiss'd me when we met,
Jumping from the chair she sat in;
Time, you thief, who love to get
Sweets into your list, put that in!

Say I'm weary, say I'm sad,
Say that health and wealth have miss'd me,
Say I'm growing old, but add,
Jenny kiss'd me.

--Leight Hunt, 1784-1859

I've always been fond of this poem (except for the "into" in the fourth line- just "in" sounds so much better to me). Apparently the Jenny in question was Carlyle's wife, but I have always imagined her a little girl...


The Poetry Friday Roundup is at Hip Writer Mama's place today!

We have Cybilian Winners!

The winners of the 2007 Cybils Awards have been announced! Yeah Winners! And many thanks to the brains and beauty behind it all -- Anne Levy and Kelly Harold, our organizers.

In as much as I was a member of the YA nominating committee (oh happy days of having piles of books around the house waiting to be read; the cupboards are bare at present) I was of course very keen to see who they were going to chose. My money was on Sherman Alexie, but no. It was Boy Toy, by Barry Lyga.

I almost wasn't able to read this book. I thought about quitting several times. The plot--a 12 year old boy seduced by his teacher, and his road to recovery--was almost too much for me. In large part this was because the boy himself did not realize for a considerable part of the book the extent to which he had been abused. He refuses to testify against the teacher in court, for instance, because he doesn't see her as the horrible abuser that she is. I kept imagining my own boys, in a few years, reading this, and not realizing how awful it was that this boy was in love (which is how he thought about it at first) with this beautiful teacher, the stuff of adolescent dreams, and that she was taking him places no 12 year old should be going. As one reads on, it becomes clear that this is a Bad Bad thing, and so I, as a reader, started feeling a bit better, but still. This is not a book for 12 year olds. Or their parents.

But for older teens, yes, it is a very good book indeed.

Fairy Tales meet Science

Here's great article in a recent edition of Live Science on the science behind the fantistic. It seem like the perfect way to get the non-fiction loving type kid to read fairy tales. And I could also imagine this line of thought inspiring science fair projects for those who prefere fairy tales...

Here's an excerpt:

In the story, Ariel loses her voice because of a curse. However, a less
skilled sorceress could use a different method to silence a singing
mermaid. Scientists have figured out a way to bend sound waves around an
object and, can even prevent the escape of all sounds created inside a given
area (important for keeping a transformed, singing mermaid from being heard). In
the story, Ariel loses her voice because of a curse. However, a less skilled
sorceress could use a different method to silence a singing
mermaid. Scientists have figured out a way to bend sound waves around an
object and, can even prevent the escape of all sounds created inside a given
area (important for keeping a transformed, singing mermaid from being heard).

Chris Gorski, Live Science Feburary 11, 2008

Great stuff for those who love Mythbusters! I want more!

reluctant readers, again....

Everyday my seven year old must read for 10 minutes. The school says so. Some days it is not easy, and lord knows I don't want to force him to read at knifepoint. So here, for what it's worth, is a tip, which I think is rather a nice one, and which I've never heard anyone else mention it: on nights when I think it might be a struggle, I communicate only in written notes. One can still be sarcastic through facial expressions. And it gets him to read. (Here is the math I use, although I personally was always much better at reading: 3 short notes = 1 minute of reading, so after 30 notes we can stop).

This can also be made into a game--anyone remember the wonderful treasure hunt in Spiderweb for Two, by Elizabeth Enright, where written clue led to written clue over the course of the year? Notes about treasure always get read, and there can be as many clues as you want, ranging from the simple "look under your beg" to the dangerous "look in your closet" (he keeps his rock collection on the floor of it).

Over at Reading Rockets there's a request for suggestions on books to read aloud to two girls who have achieved Reading-ness, and don't particularly have any interest in being read to. I can't think of any books in particular, but I do have a thought. Reading out loud doesn’t have to happen on a sofa--we used to be read to while we colored, painted, sewed...although none of use ever did complicated models meant for much older children, like Petrova did in Ballet Shoes when they were all being read to. So maybe if the new book to be read aloud was begun with a new quite activity, it would give it impetus... (and if the girls in question haven't read Ballet Shoes, maybe that would be a good one....)

Which One Did You Like Best?

Tomorrow, bearing unforseen catastrophe, the results of the Cybils will be announced! But in the meantime, you can head over to the site to vote for your favoirtes (here). Emma-Jean Lazarus Fell Out of a Tree, by Lauren Tarshis, is currently leading the Middle Grade catagory, which pleases me greatly.

Interview with Sara Zarr

Today I have the great pleasure of hosting Sara Zarr (author of last year's Story of a Girl and this year's Sweethearts). Sweethearts is a very moving story about the love between two neglected children, Jennifer and Cameron, who are separated and then meet again in high school (my review is here).

Me: You write about the characters in Sweethearts with great compassion--it was clear you cared about them. Was it hard to write them into miserable circumstances? I'm thinking not so much about the more "traditional" abusiveness of Cameron's situation, but the neglect that Jennifer experienced. Her mother is a decent person, who loved her, but obviously for the purposes of your plot you couldn't make her realize what her daughter was going through. But were you tempted, in your own mind at least?

Sara: It's always hard to put characters you love through pain, but I have to say I was never tempted to do it differently. I have a lot of compassion for Jennifer's mom, too, who is caught up in this cycle of poverty and doing what she thinks is best and the necessity to get out of it as soon as possible. In doing what she truly thinks is best for Jennifer, she doesn't realize how much her daughter needs her. I think a lot of parents who sort of live on the edge of poverty have to make that choice and there's no good answer. The physical and practical needs are more immediate than the emotional ones. Your life becomes about paying the rent and figuring out how to get out of that cycle.

Me: And related to my first question, when you write, do you feel that there is an inevitability about all the events that even you can't escape (which is the feeling that Story of a Girl, in particular, gave me) or do your characters surprise you and go off on paths you hadn't anticipated?

Sara: A lot of stuff happens in revision. Characters might do or say things that weren't part of my original plan, but ultimately those things to seem to end up serving that original, inevitable path. Which is interesting to think about, because in theory the author has the power to do anything she wants, while in reality I think you're right---sometimes even the author can't authentically alter the story's destiny.

Me: After Cameron disappears, Jennifer reinvents herself as Jenna, an attractive, popular high school student, very different from her plump, sad, childhood self. Did it help the writing process to have a character with two different names and identities, or did it add a confusing schizophrenia to it all? Is she Jenna or Jennifer or both to you?

Sara: I never had trouble separating (or joining) them in my own mind. To me, she's Jennifer, grown up, calling herself Jenna and having a different outside appearance but dealing with the same fears about herself and the world around her that were ingrained early on. She's Jennifer who has transformed her outward self, and now the inside self is catching up.

Me: Reading your book made me want to eat cookies. Like Jennifer, I found great comfort in childhood by curling up with a good book and lots and lots of cookies (although I didn't actually require comfort in the same way that Jennifer did--I just really liked books and cookies). The only reason I didn't eat cookies with your book is that I make a point of not keeping cookies in the house. Not that they would actually be in the house for long, but still. Was this a habit of yours as well, and do you have a favorite childhood cookie?

Sara: Jennifer's eating issues come straight from me. I ate for company and comfort and entertainment as a kid, and continued that habit well into adulthood, into a full-blown compulsive eating disorder. It was only when I had made some sort of peace with that and learned ways to manage it that I could write about it. So I don't keep cookies in the house very often, either! I do like a good homemade chocolate chip cookie now, but back in the day you could give me a package of Oreos or Nutter Butters and I'd be in cookie heaven. Or Fig Newtons. Or Lorna Doones. Or...sorry, what were we talking about?

Me: You and I were both teenagers in the 1980s, which is a longer time ago every year. I just had my first online chatting experience a few weeks ago, and goodness knows I have no clue about the trappings of today's popular culture (although I didn't back then either). Have you made an effort to study Modern Teenagers? Did you have to practice on line chatting and so forth, so as to get it right in the book, or have you kept up with the technology?

Sara: Oh, I've kept up with technology. I was chatting online back in the CompuServe era when you paid for Internet by the minute! I'm kind of a computer geek, and a gadget geek, with a not quite healthy attachment to my laptop.

Me: Story of a Girl was your 4th book, the first one to be published. What has happened with books 1, 2, and 3? Will we ever see them?

Sara: They are far, far away in drawers and on disks. I don't think we ever need to see them. In retrospect, they were "practice novels." Of course, at the time I didn't think so and would have been offended if anyone suggested that!

Me: Do you think you're going to stick with realistic teen fiction, which you are obviously good at, or are you tempted by other genres, or even by happier stories rather than sad (but hopeful) ones?

Sara: Realistic fiction is definitely my thing. I have nothing against happier stories, but whenever I try to write one something angsty and tragic happens so maybe it's not in my genes. I'm interested in writing for all kinds and all ages of audiences, though, and hope to try a lot of different things over the next thirty years.

Me: And finally, here you are on this blog tour, being asked innumerable questions. If it were me, I would have been preparing mental answers to possible questions weeks in advance. Is there any question that you've been hoping would be asked, but hasn't been yet?

Sara: I don't have enough perspective on the book yet to think up possible questions. Maybe in a couple of years I'll think of something I wish you'd asked, and I'll get in touch!

Me: Thanks very much Sara! I enjoyed Sweethearts (in a sad and anxious kind of way, of course, which is what the subject matter called for) very much, and I'm looking forward to your next book-- I hope it cooperates!

Here are other stops that Sara has made on her tour (if I've missed anyone, let me know!)

Largehearted Boy (playlist for Sweethearts)
Oncewritten
Kate Messner's Book Blog
Shelf Elf
The Well-Read Child
Big A little a
Interactive Reader
Becky's Book Reviews a

Once I Ate a Pie- puppy poems for Poetry Friday

Once I Ate a Pie--13 Dogs Tell All, by Patricia MacLachlan and Emily MacLachlan Charest, illustrated by Kay Schneider (2006, Joanna Cotler Books)

If you have a picture book age child, say 3-7, who loves dogs and is learning to read, this is the book for you. Even kids like mine, who aren't crazy about dogs, loved the sweet puppies, the "Good" Dogs, the "Bad" Dogs (like the pie eater), and the sleepy older dogs featured in this book. Each of the 13 dogs featured has its own picture and its own poem. The pictures are enough to melt the non-doggiest heart. The poems are little vignettes of the dogs' behaviour, rellying on typeface, font, and layout rather than rhyme and rhythm to set them apart from prose. Without being able to do these things in blooger, it's hard to convey the full charm of these poem-lets, but here's an example:

Wupsi

My name is Wupsi, but they call me “cute.”
“Who’s cute?” they ask, smiling.
I cover my eyes with my paws and pretend to sleep.
“Who’s cute?” they call again.
I run to them. I can’t help it.
I am cute.

And he is, as is this book! Which makes it a good one, I think, for people interested in poetry for the uncertain reader.

(When googling for a picture, I found that Mother Reader had also reviewed this book for Poetry Friday, way back when in August of 2006. She thought it was awfully cute too).

This week's Poetry Friday Roundup is at AmoXcalli!

Marshmallow Fun

I am about to head home, where a treat awaits me (ha ha). I am going to help my son make a model of the leaning tower of Pisa using 100 marshmallows, in honor of the hundredth day of school. Wish me luck.