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.

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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.

Books I Read In January

For the first time in my life, I successfully kept a list of a month’s worth of books read (not counting picture books, books I read to the children, or comfort books I was re-reading). Here's the list, in all its glory. I wish I had the time to write properly about many of these books—if anyone is curious about any of them, let me know!

At the beginning of January, I was still frantically trying to read books for the Cybils, so this lot were read (quickly, but carefully and lovingly) in about four days. They are all worthy books, well worth reading.

Bloom, Elizabeth Scott
Tamar, Mal Peet
Finch Goes Wild, Janet Gingold (here’s my review)
Cassandra’s Sister, Veronica Bennett
Total Constant Order, Crissa-Jean Chappell
Before, After, and Somebody In Between, Jeannine Garsee

Next I moved on to a few Christmas present books:

First Term at Ash Grove, Mabel Esther Allen (1988. I’m a sucker for English Girls Going to School stories)
Operation Sea Bird, Monica Edwards (first published 1957. This is one of a long series of books about 4 kids running around with boats and horses in the south of England. They are being republished by Girls Gone By Press)
Spring Comes to Nettleford, Malcolm Saville (1954. More English kids, this time camping out while trying to keep egg thieves from robbing the nest of some Peregrine Falcons)
What I Am, Meg Rosoff (2007; here’s my review)

Then came the pleasure (denied to me during my Cybils reading, but I’m not complaining—it was totally worth it) of going to libraries and getting things that caught my fancy (with the exception of Homefront (2006) , these are all 2007 books).

Homefront, Doris Gwaltney (this takes place in rural Virginia, just as WW II is getting going. Our young heroine’s life is disrupted when her English cousin and aunt come to life with them for the duration. Isn’t it an unappealing cover?).
Into the Wild, Sarah Beth Durst (what fun!)
A War of Gifts: An Ender Story, Orson Scott Card (that Mr. Card sure is smart. But (getting political here) how can someone so smart admire our president so very much?)
A Crooked Kind of Perfect (an excellent read. I’m glad she got a piano in the end)
Rider and Ralynx, by Sharon Shinn (a good fantasy, but lacking in the numinous, if you know what I mean)
Second Fiddle: Or How to Tell a Blackbird from a Sausage by Siobhan Parkinson (an Irish middle grade book, with a great spunky heroine).
Repossessed, A.M. Jenkins (a Cybils shortlist title in Sci Fi, with good reason)
Someone named Eva, Joan M. Wolf (I kept getting distracted by thoughts of how I would have coped had I been Eva—would I really have forgeten my own language?)

And from its publisher, I got an ARC of
Sweethearts, Sara Zarr (see my review here; I’ll also be putting up my interview with Sara on the 11th)

And some random books that I’ve been meaning to read for a while:

Gloria, Ballerina (whose author totally escapes me and which I will try to remember to find once I go home again. This is a not bad story about a girl in 1950s NY city who wants to do ballet but is thwarted.)
Tomboys at the Abbey, by Elsie Oxenham (one of a long, early to mid 20th century, series about English girls, folk dancing, an old Abbey, and female bonding)

Learning to read with Douglas Florian

It was a slightly sticky week reading-wise for my 7 year old son--he just didn't want to read any of the chapter books I offered him. So I turned to poetry, specifically the animal poems of Douglas Florian, with the happy result that he read.

Poems are more friendly to read than the densely filled pages of chapter books--less intimidating visually, and once you've read a poem, you have clearly accomplished something. Florian's poems in particular, I think, are great for the reluctant reader. They are funny. They are informative. They have a fairly straightforward vocabulary. And I like his whimsically varied illustrations.

Here are a few poems that struck my fancy:

The Cheetah (from bow wow meow meow it's rhyming cats and dogs, 2003, Harcourt)

The cheetah is fleet.
The cheetah is fast.
Its four furry feet
Have already passed.

The Dachshund (also from bow wow meow meow)

Short up front
And short behind
But so long in-between.
The fleas all ride
Upon my side
In my s t r e t c h limousine.

The Diamondback Rattlesnake (from lizards, frogs, and polliwogs, 2001, Harcourt)

Fork in front,
Rattle behind.
The lump in the middle?
Don't pay any mind.

Scales up high,
Scales down low.
The lump in the middle?
You don't want to know.

Diamonds above,
Diamonds below.
The lump in the middle?
A rabbit too slow.

All three of these are pretty easy, quick, and funny to read--great confidence boosters.

My son also decided to bring home from the library Shel Silverstein's Falling Up --apparently the boy who is the Alpha Reader in my son's class has been reading it (having finished Eragon Harry Potter Cornelia Funke etc). Silverstein's poems, thought, aren't as uniformly easy readerish as Florian's; likewise Jack Prelutsky.

Any recommendations for other poets or books we could look for that still unfluent reader who likes science might be able to read easily?

And as a total aside, Shel Silverstein has a new edition of an old out of print book coming out this March-- Don't Bump the Glump which looks rather interesting.

The Poetry Friday round up is at Karen Edmisten's place today!

What I Was, by Meg Rosoff

This Christmas I asked my European dwelling sister to give me a copy of Meg Rosoff's latest book, What I Was (this is the British cover). I didn't want to wait for it to come out here in the states (although it is now available, so perhaps I should have been more judicious in my selection, but my other sister was already getting a copy of Forever Rose, by Hilary McKay which I actually was looking forward to even more). Rosoff's first book for teenagers, How I Live Now, had interested me but not compelled me, but I truly enjoyed Just In Case. So I began What I Was in a hopeful spirit.

The story is simple--Hilary, a 16 year old boy, begins life at his third boarding school, having been kicked out of two others. It is a depressing place with depressing people in it, including our narrator, who is not particurlaly cheeful about his situation (with reason). But he finds an escape while exploring the Suffolk coast where his school is situatuated--a cottage on an island, whose young resident, Finn, is resourceful, independent, and totally enigmatic. They strike up a friendship, based mainly on Hilary's fascination with Finn--an almost obsessive desire to be inside the self-relient mystery that is Finn's life. But it is impossible to keep secrets in a boarding school, and (this is Meg Rosoff after all) things fall apart tragically and spectacularly, atlhough they end up getting back together again, more or less.

Unlike her other books, however, things don't really start Happening till near the end. I got impatient with Hilary, and wasn't as interested in Finn as he was. The buildup in pace came a bit too late for me to care all that much. So all in all, a bit disappointing. But the fault could be mine- this was one of those books that made me wonder if I was Trying hard enough to be an engaged and critically appreciative reader. Because I think there is a lot to appreciate here, in Rosoff's use of language and setting. It just wasn't my cup of tea.

The American edition is published by Viking Adult, but I think it is comfortably a YA book -- teenaged narrator, nothing graphic in an Adultish way (although that dosen't apply to many YA books), and a plot concerned with self-knowledge, friendship, and growing up.

Class of 2008 Contest

Last year I enjoyed dropping in on the Class of 2007 -- first time authors of middle grade and YA books, banding together in promotional solidarity. It was a pleasure reading many of their fine books during my stint as a Cybils YA nominator (and it is also a pleasure to see gaps in my library's YA collection, where the review copies I donated are being checked out nicely).*

Now there is a Class of 2008, and they are currently hosting a Virtual Scavenger Hunt. With great prizes -- three of their own books!

*I have heard that in England authors get royalties every time their books are checked out from a public library. If true, it would be an incentive for authors to make lots of friends and have large families....on the other hand, if you don't know anyone with a library card, but keep checking your own book out, it defeats the purpose of having written it in the first place.

H.D. for Poetry Friday

I have been fond of imagist poet H.D. (Hilda Doolittle, 1886-1961) ever since I ended up at the same college (Bryn Mawr) as she did, was very taken by her picture, and decided on reading some of her poems that our minds worked much the same way (in the way that one does, when one is young and at college. I am now pretty sure our minds don't, although I still like her poetry).

What I did not know, until today, wandering around on line hoping to be inspired for Poetry Friday, is that H.D. also wrote children's stories, before committing herself to poetry. Two of them are available on line, here. I think she made the right choice. Here's one of my favorite poems:

Sheltered Garden, from Sea Garden (1916)

I have had enough.
I gasp for breath.

Every way ends, every road,
every foot-path leads at last
to the hill-crest --
then you retrace your steps,
or find the same slope on the other side,
precipitate.

I have had enough --
border-pinks, clove-pinks, wax-lilies,
herbs, sweet-cress.

O for some sharp swish of a branch --
there is no scent of resin
in this place,
no taste of bark, of coarse weeds,
aromatic, astringent--
only border on border of scented pinks.

Have you seen fruit under cover
that wanted light --
pears wadded in cloth,
protected from the frost,
melons, almost ripe,
smothered in straw?

Why not let the pears cling
to the empty branch?
All your coaxing will only make
a bitter fruit --
let them cling, ripen of themselves,
test their own worth,
nipped, shrivelled by the frost,
to fall at last but fair
with a russet coat.

Or the melon --
let it bleach yellow
in the winter light,
even tart to the taste --
it is better to taste of frost --
the exquisite frost --
than of wadding and of dead grass.

For this beauty,
beauty without strength,
chokes out life.
I want wind to break,
scatter these pink-stalks,
snap off their spiced heads,
fling them about with dead leaves --
spread the paths with twigs,
limbs broken off,
trail great pine branches,
hurled from some far wood
right across the melon-patch,
break pear and quince --
leave half-trees, torn, twisted
but showing the fight was valiant.

O to blot out this garden
to forget, to find a new beauty
in some terrible
wind-tortured place.

- H.D.

Poetry Friday is at Mentor Texts today!

P.S. The internet is truly amazing. I did not know that H.D. stared in a movie with Paul Robeson in 1930 (courtesy of Wikipedia)

Trout are Made of Trees

Try saying to your children, "Trout are made of trees." Assuming they know what trout are, they will think you are nuts, which perhaps you are, and they won't be shy about letting you know. But then, in a effort to restore your credibility, read them Trout are Made of Trees, by April Pulley Sayre, illustrated by Kate Endle (Charlesbridge, 2008, ages 4-7). "See?" you can say at the end. "I was right. You're made of trees too!"


This book tells of the journey from trees to trout, as two kids and their parents explore along a stream bed. The story sways between dreamy undemanding prose--"In fall, trees let go of leaves, which swirl and twirl and slip into streams" -- and crisper statements of fact -- "Bacteria feed on the leaves. Algae grow, softening surfaces." And the leaves are eaten by the shredding creatures, who are eaten who are eaten and so on, till we get to the trout. The result is a challenging book, vocabulary-wise, but the pictures help--in the bacteria section, for example, the kids are shown looking at rotting leaves with a magnifying glass--bacteria and algae must be small. And the impetus of the story carries the reader along, without calling out for much additional parental commentary.*

In short, this is lyrical science--not the non-fiction of straight explanation. The collage illustrations by Kate Engle also tend toward the lyrical as opposed to the science textbook. But collage when done well, as it is here, has a magical realism about it. In much the same way, a complicated story about nature is told in a way that a child can understand.

From my personal experience reading this at home: this isn't perhaps the easiest book to sell to the type of child that demands you read fact heavy books over and over again, but it's probably good for them to see science presented in different ways. And there are two fact heavy pages at the end that were much appreciated. My younger boy found the stream creatures enchanting; we spent a long time admiring the shredding creatures, and the little trout hatchlings.

Charlesbridge has organized a great competition in conjunction with this book. Find out more about Be a Stream Hero by going here and scrolling down till you see it.

Trout are Made of Trees is the first book by April Pulley Sayre that I've read, but Vulture View has been on my To Read list for ages (well, since it was short listed for the Cybils a few weeks ago). And now I'm curious to read Trout, Trout, Trout: a Fish Chant. Here's an interview with her over at A Year of Reading.

Illustrator Kate Endle has been guest blogging at Black eiffel--there are several posts, so keep moving forward in time to read them all, till you get to the contest (!) at the end. And how unselfish it is of me to let others know about it...

*I would like to say that it is nice that the author assumes we know what predators are. Of all the books about predators and prey I've read with my boys, this is the only one I can think of that doesn't stop and define it. But I could be wrong.

(Charlesbridge kindly sent me this review copy)

The January issue of The Edge of the Forest is up! I have a book review in it for the first time--a book I absolutely adore, Very Hairy Bear, by Alice Schertle, illustrated (and very nicely too) by Matt Phelan. My four year old has been quoting it and chuckling to himself ever since we first read it about 6 weeks ago...

Four Fur Feet for Poetry Friday

"Oh, he walked around the world on his four fur feet,
his four fur feet, his four fur feet.
And he walked around the world on his four fur feet,
and never made a sound-O."

So begins Four Fur Feet, by Margaret Wise Brown, illustrated by Remy Charlip (1990, Hopscotch Books). The walk around the world take a black pawed creature (the four fur feet are all we ever see) through cities, by rivers filled with boats and streams filled with fish, past a railroad yard, and through a countryside full of all kinds of animals. At last the black beast reaches a meadow, where he lies down to dry his paws (they'd gotten wet crossing the stream).

"And the sun shone down on his four fur feet,
his four fur feet, his four fur feet.
And the sun shone down on his four fur feet
and made them feel all warm-O."

As the creature moves around the world, the reader has to move the book around too, until at one point it's upside down. All part of the fun.

To my mind, the illustrations don't invite a great deal of interested looking--they are made of lots of ink lines, sometimes with individual shapes colored in, as on the cover, sometimes just drawn on a solid color background. But since the book itself is (literally) moving, it might be for the best that the pictures aren't such eye-candy that the young read-ee wants to keep the reader's arm from turning.

And it is the words, the swing and rhythm of them (that Margaret Wise Brown at her best has such a good ear for), which make this book great fun. Although it is "four fur feet" that really makes it--this verse dosen't have them, and suffers as a result:

"And as he slept, he dreamed a dream,
dreamed a dream, dreamed a dream.
And as he slept, he dreamed a dream
that all the world was round-O."

This book has practical utility, in that the poem can be adapted to those situations where you are trying to get your four year old child to move. Here's an example from last night:

Oh he walked to his bed on his four fur feet,
his four fur feet, his four fur feet,
Oh he walked to his bed on his four fur feet,
and didn't get up till the morning! (ha ha)

Or you can walk up the stairs, to the car, to the door, etc. It is interesting and effective at the moment (two days after reading), but I'm not sure how long it will last. (Fast forward ten years: Oh he took out the trash on his four fur feet...)

On the right is the 1994 edition of the same story, illustrated by W.H. Marx. I much prefere the earlier one, with its very mysterious creature. Leaving the creature to the imagination of the reader makes it much more interesting. You can draw a set of four fur feet for everyone:



And then they can draw their own creature, like so:


More creaures (including mine) will be added later--I forgot to bring them with me to scan.

And finally, back to the poetry part of it all, there's a lesson plan up on the web here on how to use this book to explain alliteration to young kids.

The Poetry Friday Roundup is here at the Farm School today!

Sweethearts

Sweethearts, by Sara Zarr (Little, Brown and Co. 2008)

Yesterday quite a few folks blogged about the books they couldn’t wait to read, and on several lists was Sara Zarr’s new book, Sweethearts. It wasn’t on mine, because an ARC had arrived at my work address that morning, and I had already started reading it. A bit at lunch, a bit more in the car on the way home, before finally settling down to do some more modeling good reading behavior for my children.



Jenna Vaughn is not real. Sure, she sits at her high school lunch table with nice looking people, including her nice looking boyfriend, and she looks pretty nice herself. But her friends don’t know that inside Jenna is Jennifer Harris. Jennifer, the fat neglected child of a too busy mother, mercilessly taunted by the other kids, a loser, an outcast. Not too lonely, though, because she had Cameron, another outcast, as her faithful comrade.

For a few years they had each other to love. Because of this, Cameron was (almost) surviving his sadistic father, and Jennifer was (almost) surviving the lack of any familial affection. Then Cameron disappeared on Jennifer’s ninth birthday, without saying goodbye. The other kids told Jennifer he’d died. Her mom didn’t deny it. So Jennifer struggled on, with half of herself gone*, till she changed schools, her name, and herself, becoming Jenna. The aching jaws from keeping Jenna’s happy smile on were a small price to pay.

But Cameron returns, and so does Jennifer.

"I ran a paper towel under the faucet and pressed it to my face, looking in the mirror to check the status of the redness of my eyes. Baby. Then a voice from underneath that, one I hadn’t heard before, talked back. You’re not a baby. Babies don’t tear away window screens with their bare hands to save themselves. I closed my eyes, wanting to hear more, trying to block out any image of Jenna Vaughn that obscured my view of Jennifer Harris. But apparently she’d finished talking."

The engrossing story of what happened to Cameron and Jennifer is unfolded slowly in flashbacks, tied in to Jenna’s own remembering of the two children who in her mind had died. Often when I read books about unhappy or abused children, the unhappiness is so much front and center that I find it hard to empathize with the main characters. But because the present time of this book is a time of facing the past and coming back together (Jennifer and Jenna, Cameron and Jenna, Jenna and her mother, Cameron and his siblings), this is not so dark a read as many others on similar themes (although in all honesty the level of abuse here is as nothing compared to some*).

This is a great read, with memorable characters, and a fascinating story. Sara Zarr writes about these two sad children with great compassion and respect--respect in that her characters aren’t given any easy answers. And more to the point, from a reader’s perspective, she doesn’t offer an easy answer to the question that everyone reading this book will still have at the end of it. I guess she is expecting us to be smart enough to figure something out for ourselves. Sigh. I’d rather know.

My only quibble lies with Jenna’s relationships with her high school friends, which felt a bit two-dimensional and not quite convincing. But when you have a main character who knows she isn’t real, I suppose it becomes tricky to create real friendships for her…

*Hence the cover showing a heart with a bite taken out of it
**Touching Snow, by M. Sindy Felin, for instance, or Bad Girls Club, by Judy Gregerson

In the interest of full disclosure: I got my copy of this book from the publisher, along with a small box of candy hearts (thanks), which I also enjoyed very much but which did not at all influence what I just said about the book.